Archangel's Enigma
Page 100
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“The Cadre will decide,” Favashi said, spreading out her wings. “For now, I will go and welcome him to the world.”
Raphael rose into the night sky with her, showed her to the village. And he warned Alexander of her impending arrival. The Ancient was standing laughing with his sentinels when they landed, nothing in his stance or expression to betray his vulnerability. He’d woken at far too high a speed, would need at least six months to recover. Until then, he was at risk of a deadly attack, but only if someone realized the extent of his weakness.
Raphael would’ve worried Lijuan would launch another assault except that she’d retreated far too quickly from this battle. According to what Andromeda had seen in Lijuan’s citadel, the Archangel of China had only been partially healed when she’d decided on this mission. A second wildfire injury on top of the first should take her out of the equation long enough for Alexander to come to full strength.
“Can we kill her?” Favashi asked flatly once she and Alexander had completed the formal greeting. “While she’s weak?”
Alexander frowned.
Raphael, knowing the Ancient’s beliefs on honor and the rules of battle, expected him to negate that option. But he’d forgotten the rage now in Alexander’s blood. “Any archangel who attacks a Sleeper and murders his son is not worthy of respect.” Each word was a chip of ice. “I see no reason not to strike at her while she’s wounded.”
“We considered it after she attacked my city,” Raphael said, “but Lijuan isn’t stupid. Neither my spymaster, nor the spymasters of my allies, were able to pinpoint the location where she went to ground.” It hadn’t, despite appearances, been her citadel.
Favashi’s wings glowed. “Perhaps she has developed the ability to bury herself in the same way as Alexander and Caliane.”
Alexander stirred, his jaw no longer held in a vicious line. “Caliane? She has woken?”
“Yes.” Raphael met the other man’s gaze. “She will be pleased to see you—I think I take no liberties in extending an invitation for you to visit her territory.” Caliane would expect him to offer the invitation, for while he was Cadre, he was also her son.
Their relationship would never be simple or one-dimensional.
Alexander inclined his head in gracious acceptance of the offer before returning his attention to Favashi. “This land was once mine and still sings to my blood. Yet you have held it safe since your ascension.” The implication was clear: Alexander wanted his territory back.
Favashi didn’t back down. “As always, the Cadre’s decision will be law.”
“Agreed.”
“However,” Favashi added, “until the Cadre meets, the section of my territory which fell under Rohan’s aegis is yours.” Grief thickened her voice. “He always said he was looking after it as you would’ve wished.”
Alexander’s eyes sharpened. “You mourn my son.”
“Yes.” White lines bracketing her mouth, Favashi spread her wings. “I leave for my stronghold,” she said to Alexander. “Rohan’s palace—your old home—is badly damaged, but I can send a team to help repair it should you wish to use it.”
“No.” Alexander’s voice was subtly gentler. “I thank you, but my people and I will do what is needed.”
Favashi left without further words, but her mind reached out to Raphael’s as she flew toward the stars. I thank you for not allowing such an evil act to occur on my soil, Raphael. I have stood on the sidelines long enough—from this day forth, consider me your ally.
Raphael acknowledged her words, but he didn’t take them as unfiltered truth. Favashi played a deep game; he couldn’t trust that this wasn’t a great double cross, for the fact she mourned Rohan didn’t mean she didn’t want Alexander dead.
As the Ancient had just proven, he wouldn’t stand aside when it came to matters of territory—and in this land, loyalty to Alexander ran deep. Favashi had garnered respect in the short time she’d ruled, but even amongst mortals, the legend of the archangel with silver wings was talked of with awe and wonder.
Alexander had held this land for millennia before his Sleep.
As such, Favashi must’ve always known that if Alexander rose, she’d lose either all or a massive percentage of her current territory, face having to start all over again. The Cadre’s decision was a mere formality.
“Raphael.”
“Yes?”
“My squadrons will return to me,” Alexander said with a confidence that betrayed his own arrogance. “They’ll sever their contracts and fly home from every corner of this earth, but for now, I have no one who can fly to Titus’s territory.”
Raphael heard the unspoken request. “I must return to my own territory.” He had people to protect, too, and a consort who’d worry until she saw him safe. “However, I’ll fly through Titus’s territory and ask him to send Xander home with an escort. You can trust Titus. He is as he always was.”
“Blunt and honest.” Alexander nodded. “Tell him I will speak to him personally once I have things in order here.” He stared out at the caves under which he’d Slept. “A son should not have to mourn his father when his father is in the prime of his life, and a father should never have to mourn his son, but Xander and I will do this. We will give Rohan life in death and in vengeance.”
45
After everything that had happened, the trip back to the Refuge seemed to go by at the speed of light. Andromeda and Naasir flew in the jet as far as it was possible to fly that way, their time together beyond precious to her. Upon landing, Naasir picked up a small pack of cold-weather clothing Galen had left for him at the airport, and told her to take the skyroad while he straddled the motorcycle the mechanic had retrieved for him.
Raphael rose into the night sky with her, showed her to the village. And he warned Alexander of her impending arrival. The Ancient was standing laughing with his sentinels when they landed, nothing in his stance or expression to betray his vulnerability. He’d woken at far too high a speed, would need at least six months to recover. Until then, he was at risk of a deadly attack, but only if someone realized the extent of his weakness.
Raphael would’ve worried Lijuan would launch another assault except that she’d retreated far too quickly from this battle. According to what Andromeda had seen in Lijuan’s citadel, the Archangel of China had only been partially healed when she’d decided on this mission. A second wildfire injury on top of the first should take her out of the equation long enough for Alexander to come to full strength.
“Can we kill her?” Favashi asked flatly once she and Alexander had completed the formal greeting. “While she’s weak?”
Alexander frowned.
Raphael, knowing the Ancient’s beliefs on honor and the rules of battle, expected him to negate that option. But he’d forgotten the rage now in Alexander’s blood. “Any archangel who attacks a Sleeper and murders his son is not worthy of respect.” Each word was a chip of ice. “I see no reason not to strike at her while she’s wounded.”
“We considered it after she attacked my city,” Raphael said, “but Lijuan isn’t stupid. Neither my spymaster, nor the spymasters of my allies, were able to pinpoint the location where she went to ground.” It hadn’t, despite appearances, been her citadel.
Favashi’s wings glowed. “Perhaps she has developed the ability to bury herself in the same way as Alexander and Caliane.”
Alexander stirred, his jaw no longer held in a vicious line. “Caliane? She has woken?”
“Yes.” Raphael met the other man’s gaze. “She will be pleased to see you—I think I take no liberties in extending an invitation for you to visit her territory.” Caliane would expect him to offer the invitation, for while he was Cadre, he was also her son.
Their relationship would never be simple or one-dimensional.
Alexander inclined his head in gracious acceptance of the offer before returning his attention to Favashi. “This land was once mine and still sings to my blood. Yet you have held it safe since your ascension.” The implication was clear: Alexander wanted his territory back.
Favashi didn’t back down. “As always, the Cadre’s decision will be law.”
“Agreed.”
“However,” Favashi added, “until the Cadre meets, the section of my territory which fell under Rohan’s aegis is yours.” Grief thickened her voice. “He always said he was looking after it as you would’ve wished.”
Alexander’s eyes sharpened. “You mourn my son.”
“Yes.” White lines bracketing her mouth, Favashi spread her wings. “I leave for my stronghold,” she said to Alexander. “Rohan’s palace—your old home—is badly damaged, but I can send a team to help repair it should you wish to use it.”
“No.” Alexander’s voice was subtly gentler. “I thank you, but my people and I will do what is needed.”
Favashi left without further words, but her mind reached out to Raphael’s as she flew toward the stars. I thank you for not allowing such an evil act to occur on my soil, Raphael. I have stood on the sidelines long enough—from this day forth, consider me your ally.
Raphael acknowledged her words, but he didn’t take them as unfiltered truth. Favashi played a deep game; he couldn’t trust that this wasn’t a great double cross, for the fact she mourned Rohan didn’t mean she didn’t want Alexander dead.
As the Ancient had just proven, he wouldn’t stand aside when it came to matters of territory—and in this land, loyalty to Alexander ran deep. Favashi had garnered respect in the short time she’d ruled, but even amongst mortals, the legend of the archangel with silver wings was talked of with awe and wonder.
Alexander had held this land for millennia before his Sleep.
As such, Favashi must’ve always known that if Alexander rose, she’d lose either all or a massive percentage of her current territory, face having to start all over again. The Cadre’s decision was a mere formality.
“Raphael.”
“Yes?”
“My squadrons will return to me,” Alexander said with a confidence that betrayed his own arrogance. “They’ll sever their contracts and fly home from every corner of this earth, but for now, I have no one who can fly to Titus’s territory.”
Raphael heard the unspoken request. “I must return to my own territory.” He had people to protect, too, and a consort who’d worry until she saw him safe. “However, I’ll fly through Titus’s territory and ask him to send Xander home with an escort. You can trust Titus. He is as he always was.”
“Blunt and honest.” Alexander nodded. “Tell him I will speak to him personally once I have things in order here.” He stared out at the caves under which he’d Slept. “A son should not have to mourn his father when his father is in the prime of his life, and a father should never have to mourn his son, but Xander and I will do this. We will give Rohan life in death and in vengeance.”
45
After everything that had happened, the trip back to the Refuge seemed to go by at the speed of light. Andromeda and Naasir flew in the jet as far as it was possible to fly that way, their time together beyond precious to her. Upon landing, Naasir picked up a small pack of cold-weather clothing Galen had left for him at the airport, and told her to take the skyroad while he straddled the motorcycle the mechanic had retrieved for him.
