The burial mound heaved and another rumble passed through the ground. Bane took a step closer, then halted when crunching sounded. The grass once lush and green was now brittle and dead. The Ghost Orchids with their dainty white petals shriveled and turned to ash in front of his eyes. Next the vibrant red petals of the Chocolate Cosmos faded to black and crumbled to the dry grass, followed by the Lady Slippers and Jade Vines. The trees, the grass, everything green and alive, died, taking all the light out of the room. However, the UnHallowed didn’t need light to see.

“What just happened?” Rimmon demanded.

“No idea.” Bane moved to the burial mound and jerked to a stop. Fingers, clawing through the soft dirt, appeared first. Next, her head, shaking free of the dirt clinging to her face and hair. She heaved into a seated position and sat there for a moment, breathing. Then she went preternaturally still.

Bane didn’t know whether to stay away or reach for her. This was what he wanted, except something, besides the obvious, was wrong.

Amaya kicked the dirt from her legs and climbed to her feet, only to groan and drop to one knee. He took a step toward her. Two sets of hands halted him from proceeding. He fought to be free, but, from behind, arms banded around his chest as a scream ripped from Amaya. Hunched over on all fours, the hospital gown parted revealing her sleek back. She screamed again, a wretched sound which had Bane fighting his way to get to her.

“Wait,” Daghony hissed in his ear.

“Release me or—”

A shaft of light erupted from sudden slits appearing on either side of her spinal column. Bane’s back ached in symbiotic remembrance. He knew what those slits meant, yet couldn’t absorb the event unfolding in front of his startled eyes.

She went into the ground a dead Halfling and emerged as a…what? What kneeled in front of him? She cried out again as the bony framework of a pair of wings slid from the new openings. Shiny, new skin formed, then downy newborn feathers sprouted as she slumped back into the makeshift grave.

Daghony’s arms dropped from Bane, but he was too stunned to move.

“What the f—”

“Holy sh—”

“Oh. My. G—”

“Kill it!” shouted Kush, raising his blade, and storming forward.

For the briefest moment, Bane agreed. Kill it! But it was Amaya. Not a thing to be slain. Where the other UnHallowed moved out of the way allowing Kush access, Bane stepped into his path, prepared to die defending her.

Lightning struck the ground behind him, between Bane and Amaya. Bane spun and had to shield his eyes. Lightning didn’t appear in a cave. The flash was gone before he managed a single step, and Michael stood in the space. “She is not to be harmed.”

Kush snickered. “I’m not gonna harm her. I’m gonna hack her into pieces.”

Wobbly, she climbed to her feet. In the scant space of time since the lightning struck the ground, her newbie appendages had grown into a set of arched bi-level wings with large snowy feathers. A shudder wracked her body, which made her wings flutter as if caught in a storm. She hunched over to brace her hands on her knees.

“What is she?” Tahariél flanked Michael and Amaya. The rest of the UnHallowed took note and did the same.

Michael freed an empyreal sword from the folds of his long robes. Not his borrowed sword from Metatron. This weapon was unmistakable with its ivory handle encased in an intricate empyreal weave that twined around the handle and hilt. Every UnHallowed knew to whom the blade belonged. Empyreal objects bonded to their owners, becoming one with the person who wielded them. It channeled their power, directing, redirecting, amplifying. And becoming inert without that bond. He tossed the weapon.

Amaya caught the sword on the fly, with one hand. At her touch, it hummed and glowed with a radiant light that had the entire chamber illuminated. Perfect for witnessing her wings changing from the pristine white to the blood-tipped white feathers only Braile had possessed.

“This shit can’t be real,” Zed snorted.

“It’s not—not real. Not him. Not Braile,” Razuel whispered, his voice haunted.

“But it is…sort of,” Chay said.

“In the most fucked up, twilight zone way,” Riél added.

“Here we are thinking she’s a Halfling, but it’s much worse,” Sam growled, his attention on Michael, not Amaya. “Isn’t it?”

“Talk to me. Not around me,” Amaya croaked, her voice huskier and gravelly. She planted the sword and leaned on the hilt. Her gaze swept around the room, eliciting startled snarls and sharp inhales from the UnHallowed.

Her eyes! Bane stepped forward to cup her face and get a better look. Until her frigid gold-eyed glare froze him. The lightning bolt through her pupil had transformed into a thick gold band circling her green irises.

Sam shifted and his human façade stripped away, revealing a scarred flaming skull. “You’re not his daughter. He created you.”