27

Raphael landed on the border between his and Elijah’s territory after a long flight from New York. Elijah had flown approximately the same distance from his home. A number of birds of prey sat on the branches of the tree under which he waited for Raphael.

“I see you have an escort,” Raphael said.

“They can be possessive creatures.” Elijah, dressed in worn leathers of dark brown, drew him into a backslapping hug.

Raphael returned the gesture because he knew it was meant in good faith. “You are well?” he asked afterward. “How is Hannah? I am instructed to tell you to say hi to Hannah from Elena.”

“I have been given much the same task.” Elijah’s hair glinted gold even under the dappled sunlight, his smile open. “Hannah and I are content. It is good to have peace, and to be able to remain at my home with my consort—and the vast array of creatures who consider my court their personal playground.”

The Cascade had brought with it new powers for all of them. Where Raphael had inherited the Legion, Elijah had gained the ability to control cats both large and small as well as birds of prey. The wild beings were drawn to him, like metal to a magnet. “No one will ever again be able to sneak up on you at least.”

“There is that.” Elijah held up an arm clad in a heavy leather gauntlet, and a large eagle flew to land on his forearm, its claws closing tight. Rubbing the fingers of his free hand over the creature’s head, the bond between the two apparent, Elijah said, “I think you bring me no good tidings, Raphael.”

“No, though I would be glad for any you have to share.”

“I’m afraid I will disappoint you.” Elijah lifted his arm so the magnificent bird could fly aloft into the sky once more.

After watching the eagle soar against the gray-blue of the sky, the two of them fell into step beside the tree-shadowed stream that was their meeting point.

“Jason has come back with disturbing reports of Favashi gathering an army,” Raphael told his fellow archangel. “It’s concentrated near her stronghold.” A stronghold that had been built for Lijuan by an architect gifted and tragic.

“My spymaster has not returned home yet,” Elijah murmured. “I thank you for the warning, and I have something I can share with you in turn.” He folded back his wings even tighter, his feathers a pure white. “The reason my spymaster isn’t home is that he’s investigating reports of ghost villages on the edges of Favashi’s territory.”

“People missing or killed?”

“The very question he seeks to answer.” The sunlight spearing through the canopy highlighted the strong angles of Elijah’s face. “The villages are rumored to just be sitting there empty, as if the residents had simply stepped out for a moment and been sucked into the ether.”

A long silence filled only with the sound of water tumbling over rocks.

“We are both thinking the same thing,” Raphael said as they came to a halt at the curve of the stream.

“Lijuan Sleeps,” Elijah pointed out. “An archangel in Sleep cannot affect the external world. Else chaos would reign.”

“Lijuan was no ordinary archangel when she went into Sleep. She is the only one of us who has ever been able to turn non-corporeal.” Raphael thought of the old voice in Elena’s head, her sense of a being that was stirring awake. “It’s also possible she’s begun to come out of Sleep and to interact with the world once more.”

“I see your point.” Eli didn’t flinch when a gyrfalcon most likely resident in Raphael’s territory winged over to land on his right shoulder, its claws curling into the leather that now reinforced the shoulders of all Elijah’s shirts and tunics. “Do you think she is feeding on the disappeared?”

The suggestion wasn’t an outlandish one, not when it came to this one archangel. During the course of their battle above New York, Raphael had seen the dried-out husks of the ill-fated from whom Lijuan had sucked their life force. “It’s possible—I have a theory that she has found a way to create a reservoir of power for her eventual return. That is why she went into Sleep. To glut herself.”

“I hope you are wrong, my friend.” Ice threaded Elijah’s voice now. “She is already almost beyond our ability to defeat. She does not need access to more power.”

“It’s also possible her people are joining her at an unknown location.” Despite her depravities and how many of her own she’d massacred in her lust for power, Lijuan was considered a goddess by many.

But Elijah shook his head. “The lost are simple villagers—not the kind to be welcome in Lijuan’s court as anything other than menial servants.” Eyes of golden brown held Raphael’s. “We cannot neglect the probability that Lijuan truly Sleeps and the disappearances have nothing to do with her. Favashi’s current behavior is not what anyone would expect from her.”

The two of them began to walk again.

“Perhaps,” Elijah continued, “she has ordered her generals to take ruthless action to instill fear in the populace and the ghost villages are only the tip of the iceberg. China is a large territory for a young archangel to control—and she is fighting an uphill battle, given her predecessor.”

“Yes.” Lijuan’s people were used to being under the hand of the most powerful archangel in the world—there was little doubt that the older vampires and angels in the territory were only giving lip service when it came to their loyalty to Favashi.

Such was the unavoidable side effect of taking over a territory where another archangel had either died or gone into Sleep. The new archangel had to earn the fidelity of those left behind—or rule by creating a primal fear that overwhelmed history and loyalty in favor of pure, animal survival.

In some cases, the balance was never struck, and those loyal to the previous archangel scattered on the winds, to find new homes and positions. The vast majority were capable of loyal and devoted service to another archangel—just not to the one who’d usurped their archangel.

Many of Alexander’s people had served others with utmost fidelity but had tendered their resignations the instant he rose again—then they’d flown home. It would be the same with Raphael’s people, should he ever go into Sleep. As for his Seven, that was a certainty. No one would be surprised when Dmitri, Jason, Naasir, Illium, Aodhan, Galen, and Venom returned to him. Even were Illium to ascend, he would be as Eli was to Caliane—forever loyal.

Some bonds did not break.

“Lijuan might’ve been mad to our eyes,” Elijah said quietly, “but to many of her people, she is a living goddess. It does not matter if she is in this world or if she Sleeps, she remains the one to whom they direct their prayers.”

Raphael watched the gyrfalcon preen Elijah’s hair. “Her most loyal people could be erasing villages in order to make it seem as if she is present in the world, so her grip on her territory never fades. Their belief in her is fanatical.” Even the horror of the shambling “reborn,” that mockery of life everlasting, hadn’t altered their faith.

Elijah reached up and the gyrfalcon hopped from his shoulder to his forearm. Stroking the wild creature, he said, “I know it is not the way of the Cadre to interfere in the affairs of another archangel, but I feel we cannot leave Favashi to stumble into war.” Elijah’s voice was of a man who had seen too much battle in his long lifetime. “Before I left to meet you, I received a call from Neha. She has withdrawn her ambassadors from Favashi’s court, and she tells me Michaela’s ambassadors are also not happy.”

Raphael considered the water, the clarity of the liquid over the stones. That Neha hadn’t spoken to him was no surprise. Their relationship had broken on the blade of her daughter’s lust for power. But that she’d taken the step of recalling her ambassadors . . .

It was a prelude to war.

“Your thoughts are sound, Eli, but we will invite war ourselves if we step into Favashi’s territory without invitation.”

“Then, my friend,” Elijah murmured, “we will have to inveigle an invitation.”