“Yes,” answers Dad happily. “The troops are starting to come in. I’ve had them bivouac around the Spires.”
Lincoln steps up beside me, scanning the same view. “There must be millions of warriors down there.”
“About five million,” announces Dad. “Within a week, we’ll reach a hundred.”
A jolt of worry zings through my nervous system. “It will take them a week?”
“Fast, am I right? We’ll be able to move out in two weeks. That’s amazing for an army of this size.”
“But Hildy can only protect Maxon’s mind for another day or so.”
“Please, Maxon will be fine.” A manic gleam sparkles in his eyes. “I was under Armageddon’s thumb for twenty years and look at me.”
“Yes, look at you.” I scrub my hands over my face. “You’ve never really recovered from your time with him. We both know that.”
“How can you say such a thing? I’ve an archangel’s power to heal.”
“And Maxon doesn’t,” says Lincoln.
My father folds his arms over his chest. “Maxon’s part archangel.”
“Fine.” My tail points right at Dad’s nose. “For the sake of argument, let’s say Maxon does have your power to heal. Even you still get nightmares. And you’re growing more obsessed with killing Armageddon by the day. That’s the first thing you said just now. Kill Armageddon, not save Maxon.”
“I want to kill the old bastard because he took my grandson,” growls my father. “I realize that you’re unused to war, but that’s what’s going to get your son back. The sooner we all accept that and turn our minds to planning the battles, the better.”
“But war is the only way you’ve considered, Dad. We haven’t even spent a minute thinking about other options.”
“Because there are none. If all goes well, I can get Maxon out of Hell in a month or two.”
“And if it doesn’t go well? King Aethelwulf started a war against Hell, and he fought it for decades.”
“I’m not King Aethelwulf.”
“So, can you assure me that your war won’t take decades, too?”
Dad’s mouth thins to a determined line. “There are no guarantees in war, but going into it questioning yourself will only doom you to failure.” He points to the millions of troops on the ground. “They can smell fear in their leaders. It takes the fight right out of them.”
“It’s my job to ask questions, Dad. I’m their Queen.”
Dad rounds on Lincoln. “And what do you say as King?”
“I say that what’s most important is this.” He gently cups my wrist in his hands, exposing the Looking Glass image that still appears there. “To be a great king, Maxon needs to be whole and well. We need to look into all—” His voice drops off as he stares at the image on my wrist.
I follow his gaze and my world shatters.
The Looking Glass shows Maxon inside his prison, wide awake. His mismatched eyes dart wildly around the cell as he screams in terror, his fists pounding on the shifting walls. Although the Looking Glass doesn’t allow me to hear my son, I know exactly what those screams sound like. Every cell in my body is electrified with alarm. Even my igni take up the cry, filling my head with weeping.
Someone speaks in a whisper. I realize it’s me. “I thought Hildy was protecting him. What if Armageddon’s in his throne room right now? He’ll know Maxon’s awake. He could start torturing him any second.”
Lincoln grips my wrist harder. “It’s already been a day, her powers must be running out.”
In the Looking Glass image, Maxon’s eyes flicker between their typical hue and the all white look of Hildy’s powers. After a few seconds, his irises and pupils disappear once again. He sits calmly against the cell wall.
Hildy’s in control once more. I watch the Looking Glass, searching desperately for any sign that Armageddon heard my son’s cries and has decided to hurt him. Nothing happens. I let go of a shuddering breath. My child is still safe.
Terror tightens my throat, making it hard to speak. “Maxon’s okay for now, but Hildy’s powers are breaking. We don’t have more than a day before by baby is at Armageddon’s mercy. We have to do something right now.”
Lincoln steps away, the lines of his face set and hard. “It’s obvious what we have to do. Prepare for war.” He gestures to my wrist. “Hildy’s already failed. Forget about her. Maxon will get shattered in Hell, yes. But we’ll figure out how to put the pieces back together after we get him out.”
Shock prickles across my skin. “So that’s it. We’re giving up on Maxon. He’ll be tortured in Hell and that’s fine.”