Two Archangels pull in front of me out of nowhere, throwing their wings up like a wall, and I’m so startled that I nearly lose control of my body again. I keep my head enough to phase, angling up and over their wing tips.
I reappear, suck in a desperate breath of thin air—
Another Archangel dives at me from above, clamp-like hands outstretched. I throw my legs behind me and twist the crystal hard, flooding the naphtha veins with power. The sharp metal tips of its wings slash across the side of my right leg as I shoot by, and I bite down on the cry of pain that rises to my lips.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears, vibrating against my rib cage, as two more Archangels come for me. I spin the crystal shut and drop past them before they can react, then phase back up as high into the air as I can.
I’m used to a rhythm as I phase, a pattern of breath and movement that I can sink into, but all of that is upside down up here and it’s all I can do to keep going, keep reacting, keep staying just out of reach as I work my way closer and closer to the Gate. Light emanates from every facet of stained glass, but I’m moving too fast to make out the scenes or images they’re depicting.
I’m almost there. I have no idea how I’m going to get in, but I can figure that out.
I just need—
An enormous blast of heat bears down on me. I twist and phase away an instant before it wraps around my body, trying to get my bearings again as I snap back together. All around me, the Archangels’ masks are spinning around—benevolent to malevolent—and their arms are rearranging into cannons.
Shit.
Opening up a flood of power from the naphtha heart, I shoot straight for the Gate, phasing between bursts of cannon fire, slamming into the glass side of it with my clothes pocked by tiny embers and trailing smoke. There’s hardly any purchase outhere, and I have to quick-phase up the side, gasping in air, dodging the Archangels’ hungry fingers.
They don’t shoot at me anymore, though. Not when their cannons might smash a giant hole into the side of this thing.
I cut the flow of naphtha once I make it to the top of the Gate and drop to all fours, panting hard, my muscles shaking with exertion as I try to form a plan because there doesn’t seem to be a door or window or anything I can use to get inside. And the Archangels are still coming.
One of them cuts downward, glowing through its wrathful face, and a desperate idea forms in my brain as I clamber awkwardly to my feet. When the angel gets close enough, I vanish and then reappear right above it, head down, feet pointed toward the sky as I crank the power flow all the way open. The naphtha heart flares, flooding the web of veins, rocketing me into the Archangel’s frame. My momentum propels both of us straight down into the glowing sphere.
In a tangle of limbs and metal, we crash through the top, shattering glass in a multitude of colors as we fall into the heart of the Gate of Heaven.
THEN
I am—
—Iam—
Papa’s soft, rich voice, singing
Gentle, calloused hands, Mama’s hands, cradling mine
—Iam—
Orion’s beautiful face, so close to mine in the dark
Dani at the helm, pretty Dani, with a grin like a knife
—Iam—
Standing on the Copper Plains, filling up with light
Tasting rain
Holding my sisters tight
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“BEWARE OF SELFISH DESIRES. WANT NOTHING FOR YOURSELF BUT WHAT THE HERALDS HAVE DESIGNED FOR YOU. FOR THERE CAN BE NO GOODNESS OR PEACE OR TRUE HAPPINESS OUTSIDE OF THEIR DIVINE PLAN.”
—THE SACRED LAW OF THE HERALDS
Glittering shards of red and green and blue glass slice through the air as the Archangel and I plummet downward. New cuts burn on my arms and body, across my forehead and cheeks. I wipe blood from my vision, and as soon as I can make out a solid surface below, I phase toward it, leaving everything else behind—the naphtha heart and veins, the devices caged to my feet, all of it.
