Blood opens gates. Yours is not all Light.
What did that mean? Was it mere nonsense? Or—had the Rozhanitsy meant that Katerina’s blood was affected not by the Darkness that bled down her bond with Niko, but by the child she might bear? She had no idea what it meant for a Dimi to birth a Shadow-child, let alone one whose father’s soul was half-claimed by Darkness.
One thing she did know: if she were indeed carrying Niko’s child, she would cherish it—all the more so because if he were taken from her, a piece of him would remain. Not in the way he’d meant after the demon attack, but in a real way, a way she hadn’t been able to keep her mother or her father or anyone whom she’d loved, save Sofi and Ana. A person the two of them created together would be wondrous, and demons damn anyone who suggested otherwise.
But the prophecy the Rozhanitsy had shared…what had it meant? What was she to do?
And what if her subconscious were spinning stories? What if she’d sat here for hours in the grass, holding a conversation with no one?
She straightened, wishing there were someone, anyone she could talk to about this. She had never felt more alone.
Sant Antoniya, she prayed again, her hand still pressed to her belly, help me.
And then she saw it, winking at her from the grass at the base of the altar, a flash of light in the gloom.
It was impossible.
It was also proof.
A single, iridescent Firebird feather.
Chapter Thirty-Five
SAMMAEL
Something was terribly wrong.
The mirror that sat above Gadreel’s dresser—the one he had taken as the spoils of war centuries ago—had a twin that Sammael kept locked away in his scrying room. The very last thing he needed was for Gadreel to get his hands on the matched set.
Sammael had embedded a location-specific spell in the rune-stone he’d given Azazel, with instructions to hide the stone as close to Gadreel’s mirror as he could. The spell would force the mirror to do Sammael’s bidding, rather than Gadreel’s; he was its rightful owner, after all. When Gadreel peered into it, he would see what Sammael wanted him to see; and then, thanks to a particularly tricky bit of magic, it would act as a portal to take him there. It was quite an accomplishment, if Sammael did say so himself.
The archduke had returned, flush with success; the Dark Angel of War’s palace had been a wreck, he’d shared with no little glee, and as vacant as Hell’s sauna. He’d tucked the rune-stone in the back of Gadreel’s top dresser drawer, behind any number of unspeakable items, made off with a painting he’d always coveted, and arrived back in Sammael’s domain, radiating victory.
The venture had cost Sammael a bottle of his finest Soulfire Reserve, as the archduke had blathered on about his adventure over drinks for some time. But it would be worth it, to see the look on Gadreel’s face when Sammael interrupted his upcoming tête-à-tête with Dimi Ivanova.
Sammael hadn’t been entirely truthful when he’d told Elena he had no means of determining what took place aboveground. He had this: a mirror that showed him whatever he most needed to see. Of late, though, it had become capricious. Even stubborn, refusing to reveal anything even when Sammael offered magical inducements. He had never known it to act this way before, but with the rise of the Darkness, nothing was behaving as it ought. Why would his mirror be any different?
Frustration gripped Sammael as he braced his hands on his desk and peered down at the mirror’s obscured surface. He needed to know whether his plan was working, before he decided to act.
It was complex but well thought-through, all things considered. Sammael had made a list:
Have Azazel plant the spelled rune-stone near Gadreel’s mirror, opening a portal to the shores of Lake Svetloyar.
Rely on Gadreel’s impulsive nature to lead him through, without questioning why his mirror had suddenly taken on qualities it had never possessed before. Knowing Gadreel, he would simply believe the world had tilted in his favor.
Wait patiently while Gadreel lurked in the woods, anticipating Dimi Ivanova’s arrival on the lake’s shores. Naturally, when the Dimi and her party arrived, Gadreel would attack, seeking to kidnap Katerina Ivanova and use her to drive the Darkness back—but also, to kill her companions, who would only get in his way.
Step in and ambush the lot of them, under the guise of helping the Dimi.
Under siege by Gadreel’s forces, she would welcome Sammael’s appearance and his offer to fight on her side. Together, they would conquer Sammael’s oldest enemy, and then Dimi Ivanova and her cursed Shadow would set about returning the Darkness to the Void, there by the shores of a lake whose protections were among the strongest in all of Iriska. If Niko Alekhin were to perish in that final fight, well, such was the collateral damage of war. Then Gadreel would be gone, Dimi Ivanova would be grieving but grateful, the Darkness would be vanquished, and Elena would be herself once more.
Not to mention, Sammael would be hailed as a hero from one end of the Underworld to the other, and all of Gadreel’s territory would now be his. Truly, it was a win-win for everyone.
Well, perhaps not Niko Alekhin, but that was what ballads were for.
Humming to himself, Sammael sat at his desk and traced an intricate klyuchi rune on the mirror’s enchanted surface. “Show me Lake Svetloyar,” he commanded. “Show me the Dark Angel of War.”
The surface of the mirror rippled, then cleared, revealing Volshetska’s stone edifice, set on the banks of a massive tidal lake. He smiled in triumph; all he needed now was to wait and watch, choosing the perfect moment to attack.
