“Oh, no. Never,” he said drily.
“Come to think of it, I haven’t noticed any weaknesses in you or your father,” I said.
“My father doesn’t stand for any weakness; he annihilates them. And what weaknesses he hasn’t yet been able to destroy in breeding, he destroys in training. He trained me and my sister from birth, and he didn’t hold back. The fact that we were children was no excuse. He bombarded both of us especially hard with our magical weaknesses to build our resistance early on. That’s how he made up for any shortcomings in our magic heritage.”
“Nice.”
Jace shrugged as though it didn’t bother him at all. “Some magic powers still come more easily to us than others. My father is determined to neutralize those weaknesses in breeding. He’s made it his mission in life to create the perfect angel, the perfect soldier. For the sake of our family’s legacy.”
“I didn’t realize the Legion would allow an angel any choice in choosing a spouse.”
“The Legion doesn’t tell you there is choice, but there’s always a choice as long as you’re breeding for magic and not for something as fanciful as love.”
I snorted. “Yeah, because who needs love and happiness when you have duty and power?”
Jace kept talking, so caught up in his explanation that he’d failed to recognize my sarcasm. “There are often multiple spouse choices to choose from within a range of magical compatibility. When that’s the case, the Legion allows an angel to pick. The Legion doesn’t object to old families of magic producing more angels, especially ones with more power across the entire magic spectrum. After all, those angels would be very valuable assets to the Legion.”
As he explained all of this, I couldn’t help but wonder what my and Nero’s chances were. Were we compatible? Would the Legion approve of us as a match? As soon as the thought fluttered through my head, I felt guilty for even pondering it. Whatever the answer was, it didn’t matter. I had to save Zane. That was my purpose in the Legion, my reason for being here. Making magical matches to produce more angels and ensure the Legion’s future was definitely not part of the plan.
15
Field of Tears
Abyss, a town along the Frontier in Colonel Fireswift’s territory, was bigger than my hometown of Purgatory, but there was a similar feel to it. Frankly, it really did feel like an abyss. A fog hung over the town, and the dull street lamps did nothing to alleviate the darkness. The dreary street corridors were lined with boxy blocks of buildings about six or seven stories high. Standing there felt like being stuck in a dark valley after the sun had fallen behind the mountains.
An old, broken-down monorail hung overhead. It looked like it hadn’t been used in decades. Layers upon layers of graffiti were painted over the cars, the tracks, and the elevated stations—the painted timeline of the town’s history.
Like in Purgatory, the bars were full. They were the preferred place for people to drown their sorrows and forget their problems. Music spilled out of the open doorways, an open invitation to all who passed by. An old piano played an upbeat tune that was in stark contrast to the dreary street scene.
The people on the streets did, in fact, look depressed. There was a slouch to the way they walked, like the weight of the world and all its monsters weighed down on their shoulders, crushing them into the ground, into nothingness. Their heads were bent over, their gazes on the ground. It was all very different from the happy music, cheers, and singing emanating from the bars.
It was like when they stepped into those bars, the people transformed completely. They each became someone new. Someone with hope. Someone with dreams that still lived on. Someone the hard, cruel world hadn’t completely destroyed.
We drove under the gates, passing beyond the wall onto the haunted lands of monsters. A few hours later, we stood upon a cracked, dry patch on the Field of Tears, looking across the dusty red earth at the stone fortress. With its four towers, high walls, and drawbridge, Hardwicke’s stronghold looked like a bona fide castle rather than the shady digs of an infamous slaver. Word on the street was Balin Davenport had passed through Abyss and headed out onto the Field of Tears. So chances were good he was here now. If all went well, I would free my sisters and the last of the prisoners, and Jace would capture the Legion deserter.
“Security is tight,” said Bodybuilder One.
“Especially for a rogue band,” added Bodybuilder Two. “They have too many guards patrolling the walls, and they are all heavily armed. We are outmanned and outgunned.”
Because Colonel Fireswift had only sent a small team. Sure, Nero had appropriated Jace’s old team, but there were more than enough Legion soldiers in the Chicago office. Colonel Fireswift must have figured Jace’s victory would look that much better if he took the castle with only six soldiers rather than sixty. That was exactly the sort of thing he would do.
Nimble Knife laughed. “But we have the great Leda Pierce, Pandora, bringer of chaos and destruction.”
Jace’s soldiers laughed and pretended to shiver in their boots.
I covered my annoyance with a smirk. “It’s no wonder you need me if all you’re good for is running your mouths and shivering in fear of the stronghold you’ve already decided you cannot possibly take.”
“There are too many guards, and a Magitech barrier surrounds the whole castle. We cannot take it with the resources we have,” the petite soldier said, shaking her head.
“No, you just don’t know how to use the resources you do have. Or maybe you’re just scared.”
“How dare you call us cowards,” hissed Bodybuilder One.
“A Legion soldier is worth a dozen common thugs,” said Bodybuilder Two.
Nimble Knife nodded. “At least.”
“But Hardwicke has too many guards,” Petite Soldier concluded. “Many more than expected. His forces have gathered here from his other fortresses.”
“They are expecting us,” Jace concluded. “The numbers are not in our favor.” He said it like it hurt to admit it.
“In life, the numbers are rarely in your favor, and luck doesn’t just fall into your lap. You need to make your own luck. I’d say it’s high time we turned the numbers in our favor,” I finished as Calli and Bella parked their car next to our truck.
Jace’s hard eyes panned from them to me. “What are they doing here? I’ve made my position on this very clear. Your family is not to get involved.”
“You’ve all already given up and decided taking Hardwicke’s base is impossible. So what’s the harm in trying things my way?” I asked him.
“The harm is to our dignity, to the propriety of the Legion. Your way is dirty,” Petite Soldier said, pursing her lips in disgust.
“Since we’re talking about propriety, let me take this moment to remind you that I outrank you,” I snapped back, my gaze dropping to the small metallic insignia of a musical note on her chest, the symbol for Siren’s Song, the Legion’s third level. “So I’m going to invite you to shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself any further.”
Her face turned as red as her hair, but she didn’t insult me. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. Finally.
I turned back to Jace. “Let me and my family show you—show the Legion—just how effective these ‘dirty’ ways can be. What do you have to lose?”
I could see the battle raging inside his eyes. On the one hand, allowing civilians to take part in this mission was a major no-no, but on the other, he really, really wanted to catch the deserter. The fortresses defenses were much better than expected. If he played this by the books, at best his mission would fail; at worst, we would all die.
“Very well. You may proceed,” he finally agreed. He looked at Bella and Calli. “The Legion takes no responsibility for any maladies that may befall you, including injury, disfigurement, or death.”