A shrill human scream wailed over the sizzle of the fire swords, and I did stop. I looked around, searching for the source. I found them: three Pilgrims besieged by a fiend. But the fiend wasn’t a monster; it was a man in a hood, his face concealed, his sword drawn.
I turned away from the snap dragons, sprinting straight for the man in the hood. He stepped aside with fluid ease, moving faster than anyone I’d ever seen. Like he was the wind. My sword cut through empty air. I thrust with my second sword. He caught my arm, holding it there for a moment. I pushed against his grip, but I might as well have been encased in stone. He released me, dancing back. The fire on both my swords went out. Oh, shit.
He struck fast and hard, throwing me at the three Pilgrims. I looked up, jumping to my feet, but he was gone, without a trace. Well, almost. I had a sizable bump on my head that could attest to his existence. Still, I had to ask…
I glanced at the Pilgrims. “Did you see that man in the hood?”
“Of course,” Grace replied.
Yay for me not imagining things that weren’t there. At least not this time.
“Where did he go? Why didn’t you stop him?” Valiant demanded, hurrying toward us. Behind him, the ground was a thick carpet of dead monsters.
“Does anyone require medical attention?” Nero asked.
“Leda does,” Claudia sang with a smirk, adding in a whisper to me, “You’re welcome.”
Nero moved forward, his eyes flickering up to the wound on my forehead.
“I’m fine, Nero,” I told him, brushing his hand aside. “But Grace is bleeding.”
His gaze slid to the cut on her finger. He uncorked a healing potion.
“I’m all right. It’s just a scratch.”
“Magic isn’t the only thing that attracts monsters,” I told her as Nero poured a drop of potion on her cut. “Many of them are drawn to the smell of blood.”
“Oh, of course. I should have remembered that,” she said, blushing. “It’s been ages since I’ve been this close to monsters.”
“Oh, yes. Monsters. How frightening. But we have far bigger problems!” Valiant exclaimed, his mouth trembling. “Where is that hooded bandit?”
“Bandit?” I asked.
“Yes, bandit. He stole my research notebook. He must have been following us all along, just waiting to rob me.”
“Calm down, Valiant,” Grace said in a soothing voice.
“Calm down? That notebook contains everything. All my notes on the relics, all my research.”
“You mean our research,” said one of the Pilgrims.
“We’re teetering at the precipice of disaster, but, yes, by all means let’s argue semantics,” Valiant snapped.
“How essential is this notebook?” Nero asked.
“Weren’t you listening? I said it contained all of my research!”
“Our research.”
Nero looked at Grace.
“Losing the notebook is bad, but not catastrophic,” she told him. “Valiant has backups of his research.”
“Where?” Nero asked him.
“In New York.”
“I’ll have it sent over.”
Valiant sighed. “No need. I have it memorized.”
“The whole notebook?” I asked, impressed.
“Yes. But we have a bigger problem. Remember how I was telling you about keeping the relics safe from those who would use them to do evil? Well, one of those evil fiends just got his hands on my notebook.”
“How do you know he’s an evil fiend?” Claudia asked him.
“I’m going to go with Valiant on this one. That guy hit like an evil fiend.” I rubbed my forehead.
“Well, even with the notebook, it will take this ‘fiend’ some time to decipher it,” Grace said.
“You wrote it in code?” Nero asked Valiant.
“Yes, a precautionary measure in case it was stolen. I didn’t actually expect anyone to steal it, especially not with the Legion guarding us. You need to go after the hooded bandit and get my notebook back before he deciphers it,” he told Nero.
Nero gave him a cool look. “No. The sun will be setting soon. We’ll head back to town, then return here in the morning.”
“The bandit’s trail will be cold by then,” Valiant protested.
“If he’s after the relics, he’s not going far. And he will return here. My first priority is to your safety. The Black Plains are even more perilous by night than they are during the day, especially in recent weeks. I will not take the chance that you and your colleagues will be killed.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” Valiant insisted.
“This isn’t up for discussion. We will return to town and come back here tomorrow.”
Valiant seemed ready to plant his feet in the ground and refuse to go, but the cold fire in Nero’s eyes must have reminded him that Nero was an angel—and that angels had no problem hurting you to keep you safe.
We made it back to town without being eaten by monsters. Considering the day that I’d just had, I was counting that as a victory. Valiant was feeling notably less victorious.
“I’ll go out there alone. No one else will be in danger,” he said to Nero when we were all back in the Legion office inside the temple.
“This matter is closed.”
“I disagree.”
“Disagree all you want. It won’t change anything,” Nero said icily.
“Valiant, do show some restraint,” Grace said gently. “Colonel Windstriker is an angel.”
“He is being unreasonable.”
The other Pilgrims looked appropriately shocked by his mild complaint. I’d never seen a Pilgrim argue with Nero. They were always too busy revering angels to disagree with them.
“The man in the hood was probably just a common thief,” one of the Pilgrims said. “The Lost Relics have been missing for centuries. A thief like that wouldn’t even know they exist.”
“Lost Relics?” I asked. “I think I’ve read about them. Is that what we’re after?”
Valiant frowned at his colleague. “Nice going.”
“From what I remember, the Lost Relics were made by gods,” Captain Somerset said.
“Yes, made by gods for angels,” said Nero. “It is said that these are the most powerful weapons the Earth has ever seen.”
“What do they do?” I asked.
“They can kill an angel in a single strike.”
7
Dark Delights
Killing an angel wasn’t an easy feat. So many doses of gods’ Nectar, so much magic, so many tests—altogether it made angels nearly unkillable. It was scary to think there was a weapon that could kill an angel in a single strike. It was even scarier to know that weapon was out there now, just waiting to be found.
It all made sense now, why the gods had granted the Pilgrims’ special assistance from the Legion, including that of an angel like Nero. But the gods had still left Nero in charge of this mission, and he was right. There might be a weapon beneath the Lost City with the power to kill angels, but there definitely were monsters out there right now on the Black Plains with more than enough power to kill anyone crazy enough to be caught outside at night.
The magic tides of the world were changing. We’d just been through more monster attacks during the day than I’d ever experienced, even at night. Going out there right now was suicide and I said it.
Nero nodded in approval, but Valiant frowned at me like I’d just fallen a few notches in his esteem.