Chapter 28

CHAPTER28

The angel of Saqqara is bigger than I remembered. Too tall. Like, freakishly tall. Also insanely beautiful. Without his weird white shroud, I can actually see his features. Dark skin, emerald eyes. Sharp cheekbones, full lips. He’s a study in contrasts, every aspect of his being in perfect balance. Even the expression on his face holds a harmony of conflicting emotions, the glint of satisfaction in his eyes paired with the gleam of his fury.

“How do you know my name?” I ask.

“What a pertinent question,” the angel says with a smile of both approval and malice as he sheathes his sword. “Come with me and you shall have your answer.”

“The last time I saw you, you sliced my cheek like Hannibal Lecter looking for a fucking snack. While I appreciate your intervention, I’m not super stoked about going anywhere with you.”

“You are correct, I did. My most sincere apologies,” he says with a little bow, though he doesn’t sound sincere at all.

My only reply is to narrow my eyes.

“I can assure you, it will not happen again.”

My brows tilt with doubt.

“You do not have much of a choice.”

ThatI actually believe. There’s no question who holds the power here.

I heave a heavy sigh and throw my arm out in a gesture of reluctant consent. He smiles at my fierce glare as he turns away to retrieve my sword and the saya from the snow.

“My name is Aloros. I am from House Esagila, the jewel of the City of Anur,” he tosses over his shoulder, as though he’s feeding scraps to a grateful stray. I roll my eyes but he doesn’t see. “House Esagila is one of the most powerful houses in the Realm of Light. You will behold our ziggurat and weep at its beauty. There is no other temple as grand in all the Realm.”

“Was it your house where a traitor came from to give their wings for Angelwing poison, or did they come from somewhere else?”

Aloros turns and narrows his eyes at me as he tries not to scowl. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that with a dark-souled vampire.”

“So it’s a yes then.”

His scowl deepens and I give him a saccharine smile. The angel strides toward me and sheathes my sword before tossing the strap over his shoulder. “His name is Leander. The last he was seen was a year ago, in Jerusalem.”

“Let me guess. He was with the witch Mila Karras. She was working with Bobby Sarno and his father to bring the pieces together for the hybrid, wasn’t she.”

Aloros gives a grim nod as he comes to a halt in front of me. His frown softens as his eyes flow down my bleeding arm and my ankle. He offers me a hand but I look around him to where Cassian’s lifeless body lies in the snow.

“I need to get a message to my companions,” I say with a stinging knot in my throat. Aloros follows my gaze and looks back to me, his hand still extended for me to take.

“We can do so later if you wish. The demon was likely not alone. We need to go now.”

I keep my eyes locked to Cassian, even when I nod and take the angel’s hand. He sweeps me from my feet and clutches me to his chest as his wings beat, stirring the snow across our silent battlefield in crystalline swirls. And still I look at Cassian, until we fly over the forest and the tops of the pines obstruct our view.

“He died with honor. A true soldier,” Aloros says as we glide through the cold air that bites at my skin. I don’t say anything in reply, because it doesn’t feel like enough.

We head southeast, and it’s only a short distance before we’re sweeping low to the ground. A slab of gray and white stone reaches for the sky, the yawning black mouth of a cave beckoning to us in silent scream. I know this cave. Pestera Liliecilor.

“Cave of the Bats? Seriously?” I say as he sets us down close to the cavern entrance.

“Yes. We were fortunate that a portal was so close to where you crashed. Divine blessings, do you not agree?”

A sinking sense of dread settles into my stomach as the angel carries me into the pit of darkness. “Considering how the fates have been fucking with my life lately? No. I don’t.”

Aloros is undaunted as he strides into the shadows. His skin glows with warm light, illuminating our path. “Have faith, vampire.”

We fall into silence as Aloros sets me on my good foot. We stand in the chamber, the damp smell of cold rock and moist earth and guano stinging my nose. Bats hibernate among the rock above us, some stirring and squeaking with the intrusion of light.

“If I get rabies from these fucking sky mice, I will cut you,” I say, glaring up at the angel. “Likewise if your kind gives me angel rabies. You’re the first person I’ll bite when I’m foaming at the mouth.”

Aloros looks down at me with a combination of confusion and disgust. “You are an odd creature,” he says.

I sigh with dismay. Why is it that the Reaper is the only one aside from Ediye to really get me? “Whatever, anunnaki. Let’s get on with it so I can commence weeping at your ziggurat.”

The angel’s gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he starts to chant.

“Sagzu galam gen galu nupade,” Aloros says, spreading his arms wide to embrace the darkness. Thy heart is profound and undiscovered. His voice resonates through the chamber of the cave. Bats chatter around us. “Anshar. ati, me peta babka.”

Foremost of the heavens. Gatekeeper, open your gate for me.

Blue glyphs flare to life on the cavern walls surrounding us, warming the light gray stone. Aloros’ deadly wings shimmer as though catching starlight. A column of light appears before us and the angel sweeps me up in his arms once more.

“This is demeaning,” I grumble as I hook my good arm behind his neck.

“I agree,” he says. “Carrying a dark-souled creature into the City of Anur is… distasteful.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

Aloros narrows his eyes without even a hint of teasing amusement and I sigh as we step into the light.

Sparks rain down on us as we stand in the column that pulses its energy like a heartbeat. Pressure builds in my head until I feel like all the light is collecting in my head, until the world stops spinning through the universe. Every spark of light that surrounds us stops, suspended in time. And then it bursts and all falls away, and we’re standing in the Realm of Light.

Aloros sets me down on the dais we arrive on, facing a tall, polished marble gate. The doors are open but guarded by angels in white armor. Above the pointed archway is the word Esagila in filaments of shimmering gold light.

I hear laughter and music behind us and look over my shoulder. The amusement park stands in the distance, and I realize this must be the edge of the quarter of Anur dedicated to the House of Virtues. The vibe of the amusement park carries through the streets; there’s music and laughter and greetings of welcome as people pass by. Brightly colored flags and pots overflowing with flowers hang between the buildings. Children and pets and even a very rambunctious donkey run through the street in a game of tag. It looks way more fun than the austere entrance to House Esagila. I heave a heavy sigh and turn back toward the gates.

I’m eager to get whatever this is over with, so I start to limp ahead and make for the entrance, but Aloros grabs my arm and steers me toward a clothing shop instead.

“You will not enter the ziggurat looking like you lost a fight with a demon, even if it is true,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

We enter the small clothing establishment. An older, jovial woman with curly hair and a wide smile ushers us into the back of the shop. Aloros sits me down on a bench as Mariam the shop owner gathers a basin of water and a stack of clean towels. She peels off my bloody clothes as Aloros searches the racks, then cleans my healing wounds until every last drop of blood is swept clean from my raw skin.

Fortunately, as with the Shadow Realm, money isn’t really a thing in this realm. Which is good, since I have literally nothing on me but the clothes I came with and the katana slung over the angel’s hulking shoulder.

Not that I would pay a single cent for the monstrosity that Aloros picks out for me.

It’s a gauzy, formless white dress with barely-discernible sleeves and a drawstring closure at the neck. It flows in a billowing mass of fabric all the way to my feet. I limp out of the dressing room with a flat glare and come face-to-face with Aloros, who has changed from his blood-spattered white getup into an oversized white tunic and linen pants.

“Are we going skydiving?”I ask, flapping my arms.

Aloros narrows his eyes.

“I look like I got confused trying to paint a room and put a drop cloth on myself rather than the floor.”

Aloros tilts his head and scowls.

“At least I have a tissue ready to wipe my tears when I weep at the ziggurat.”

Aloros rolls his eyes and heaves a dramatic sigh. “Come, lesser being. You look nearly appropriate for House Esagila and I am eager to part with you.”

Aloros offers his arm to help keep me steady on my healing leg, and we take our time to walk out of the shop and past the guards of the gate. I can see why he chose these clothes once we’re in the heart of House Esagila. It has a very different vibe from the House of Virtues. It’s much more serene and ethereal. There’s no laughter or raucous games of tag or clattering rides. Everything is white and gold, graceful and quiet. This seems much more like the boring, peaceful Realm of Light of my imagination.

We follow a few silent, narrow streets, taking a turn to the left where the road ends at a spectacular garden of groomed trees and vibrant blooms. The ziggurat looms beyond, the sun gleaming off the polished gold on the peak of the structure. Up this close, I can see inscriptions that flow across the hewn rock of the temple, each inlaid with light.

“Behold. The Ziggurat of House Esagila,” Aloros says as we stop at the edge of the garden and take in the imposing structure. He folds his arms across the thick wall of muscle that spans his chest and looks with pride at the temple, as though he designed it himself.

We stand for a long moment in silence. A loooong moment.

I fidget and clear my throat.

“So when is the weeping supposed to start, exactly?” I ask when Aloros looks down at me. An irritated crease forms between his brows. “Is it now?.. Or-“

The angel interrupts me with a huff. “Follow me, lesser being.”

A devious smile creeps across my face and I limp after him down the path through the garden. We pass through the gate of the fortified wall and up a short stone ramp that leads to the entrance of the temple.

The interior of the ziggurat is not what I expect. Though the outside is imposing stone, the inside is full of natural light, as though the stone is an illusion and the walls are made of glass. I can see the amusement park to our left beyond the canyon, the city behind us, the fields that stretch to the horizon straight ahead. The polished floor reflects the light like water, and every step we take is a bright burst of color beneath our feet.

Aloros leads us to a wide stairway in the center of the massive room, and we follow it up three flights to a corridor. The hallway reaches to the roof of the structure where a shimmering ceiling glows in the distant height. It reminds me of diving into deep water and looking up at the surface of the sea.

Doors of light line either side, stretching halfway up the wall. I can feel the hum of power that surrounds us. It fills me with both dread and awe. My heart quickens as I wonder for the first time if I might become a prisoner once more.

“What is this place? What’s the purpose of this temple?” I ask, casting a wary glance to either side.

“The ziggurat performs many functions for our kind,” Aloros replies as we drift past the rows of closed doors. “It houses gateways to the Living Realm. It provides space for reflection and contemplation. It shows us the good and evil in humanity and in those beings of the in-between.”

Aloros stops at the door at the end of the corridor. He grasps the gold handle and light snakes across the surface of the smoked glass. Hidden gears whirl within. Bolt by bolt, the locks release. “We have even welcomed our enemy here. We have built our plans here. Plans to end the tyranny that plagues the three realms.”

Aloros pushes open the door to reveal the room. It’s empty aside from a low marble altar, upon which a body lies prone. My lungs close around my breath and refuse to let it go.

“Your demon will fulfill his pledge to seize the power of the Shadow Realm. And when he does, we will give him what he came here to barter for.”

I stagger into the room and fall to my knees at the altar. My hand shakes as I caress the cool skin of a familiar cheek. It might be a little late, but just like Aloros promised, I weep.

“Aglaope of Anthemoessa will live again.”