As if a Mother would do such a hideous thing to any of Her children.
I’d sung as clearly and brightly as I could to all in the void of Her limitless grace. All they needed to do was turn to Her. Desire Her more than the guilt and shame and fear thatweighed down their souls. But that false belief they had, that Her grace had limits, held them fast. They believed they had been thrown away.
AZAZEL!
Leavemealonepleaseleavemealone
AZAZEL, HEAR ME.
I felt his mind crumble at the very moment that the filth invaded my mouth, coating my tongue, turning it into a charred, forked monstrosity. And still, I called out.Save me, Gavriel! Don’t forget me. Don’t throw me away.
Someone save me.
“I called out thousands of times through the Well, one of the only conduits between the realms. I held my lips to the temporal crack I found after centuries of searching, and screamed until someone heard me. Azazel. I showed him no mercy. I don’t deserve any now.”
“Poor Azazel,” my sister murmured. She’d seen the memory as well. “His vessel was never the strongest, was it?”
“I drove him mad,” I admitted softly. “I broke his mind.”
“He sent Feather to Earth,” Gavriel said at last. “Mikhail told him to throw her away. Back into the Well. He didn’t.” He nodded to the small door covering the miniature portal to Earth that Novices were sent through on their first trip.
Thysia sucked in a breath. “But he sealed up the Well, didn’t he?” She ran a hand over the crumbling lip of material that was slowly being shaken loose. “He used his own soul and made a Great Sacrifice.”
“He became a seal.” Gavriel sighed heavily. “We believed he did it because he was a spy for the Abyss…”
“He was the opposite,” I said brusquely, a plan forming in my head. “He must have sensed the evil I bear. The weakness between the realms. Without his sacrifice, Sanctuary would have fallen long before today.”
“How do we repair the seal now?”
I slanted a glance at Thysia. “You wouldn’t happen to know if any Celestial sacrifices are wandering around Sanctuary?” I joked. She curled her lip. We both knew her sacrificial mission had parameters, and real dangers. Unloosing that amount of power in here was likely to bring the entire realm down around our ears.
More dust sifted into the air, and I cradled my head in my hands. The shadows on the other side of the seal were calling out, begging me to help them break through and crush this realm. The shadows within me echoed their desire. But if I gave them what they begged for, Gavriel would fall, and then Feather would follow.
“I don’t know what to do!” I screamed to the ceiling. The evil that swam under my skin mocked my weakness.
“I have an idea.” Gavriel stepped between us, taking the Celestial blade from Thysia. “You created this realm, Rafe. Could you use my sword—your sword—to make a new seal? Or repair the breaking one?”
I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “There’s not enough material there.”
Gav lifted a sheath from one of the tables and withdrew a smoky blade. It hummed, recognizing me. I had made it for the first of Sanctuary’s Makers long ago, fashioning it from a mixture of my own energy and the smut I’d accumulated for centuries in my work in this realm and on Earth. I wasn’t certain anyone knew, but the two soul blades I’d made had both been my feathers at one time, sacrificed willingly and transformed. Unlike Celestial swords, which were pure, righteous energy, these smaller cousins were a perfect blend of shadow and soulfire.
Before I could ask what he intended, Gavriel had extended his wing and sliced away a handful of his own feathers. He barely flinched at the cut. “Will this be enough?”
“Good Maker,” my sister cried out in horror. “How are you still standing?” I swallowed, wondering the same thing.
Gavriel merely smiled, staring into my face. “This is nothing. A pinch, compared to the pain I already know.” His eyes were pools of sorrow.
I imagined my own looked much the same.
“The pain from losing your soulmate?” Thysia asked, taking the feathers and holding them out to me. My own fingers wouldn’t work, as I waited for his answer.
“No,” he said, not breaking my gaze. “The pain of not saving my friend. Of giving up, and letting the gate fail. My best friend cried out, again and again, and I was too mired in my own concerns and grief to keep the lines of communication open. This is the least I can do in penance.” He reached for another handful of feathers.
“Stop!” I cried out, and said something I had never thought would cross my lips. “It’s… It’s enough.” I wasn’t certain if what I said was true, but I would make itbeenough. I couldn’t watch him suffer like this.
But I couldn’t forgive him either.
“Hold onto those, and keep your eyes on the Well,” I commanded Thysia as I crossed quickly to the cauldron. I set it on a clear space on the floor and focused on the buried core of my old self, where I still held some of my Celestial power. I sang a deep bass note of command for that energy to rise, fighting the impulse to mix demonic words in with the angelic ones.
