“Colonel Fireswift is tracking down a rogue angel. Osiris Wardbreaker,” I said.
Nyx’s dark eyebrows arched. “I’m not going to ask how you know about that. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go, Leda Pierce.” Nyx folded her hands together. “Yes, Colonel Fireswift is after Osiris Wardbreaker. I believe you’ve met him.”
I’d only ever met three angels: Nero, Nyx, and as of a few minutes ago, Colonel Fireswift. If you could count exchanging icy glares as ‘meeting’. But none of those three angels was Osiris Wardbreaker.
“You know him as the hooded bandit,” Nyx told me.
“That was a rogue angel?” I asked, remembering how he’d moved. How fast he’d been. How strong.
“Yes, a rogue angel is after the holy relics, and if he gets to them first, no one on Earth will be safe, not even the angels.”
10
Legion Legacy
Nyx followed up her doom-and-gloom warning with a bit of good news.
“For your unwavering determination to protect the Pilgrims and some very resourceful monster extermination technique, as well as your dedication to your continued magical development, I am promoting you, Leda Pierce, to the third level of the Legion. There’s just the small matter of surviving the ceremony, and then it will all be official.”
That ‘small matter’ was drinking the Nectar that would boost my magic to the third level—unless it killed me. My body took right to Nectar, so as long as I was ready, everything would be all right. And Nyx thought I was ready. I had to take comfort in that.
“You are ready,” Nero assured me when we were standing again outside of Nyx’s office. “The way you compelled those Pilgrims proves that. Don’t worry.” He glanced toward the door. “I have to go back in and speak with Nyx about my new mission.”
“Right.” I started walking. “So. Have fun.”
“Leda.”
I stopped and looked back at him.
“It’s always more fun with you,” he told me.
I winked, then continued walking. My destination: Demeter, the Legion canteen. They were just about to open their doors for dinner, and I was famished. The chocolate bar from Nero hadn’t been nearly big enough. And, unfortunately, a girl couldn’t live on chocolate alone.
I met up with Drake at the pasta counter. We carried our full trays over to the table where Ivy was already sitting with her boyfriend Captain Soren Diaz.
“So, Soren was just telling me that you guys had an exciting adventure on the Black Plains yesterday,” Ivy said as Drake and I slid into the chairs facing them. “Did you really fight a dinosaur?”
“I’m not sure if it was an actual dinosaur, but it did bear a striking resemblance to a tyrannosaurus rex. And there were four of them,” I added, impaling a tomato on my fork. I looked at Soren. “How did you know about that?”
“I was talking to Claudia and Basanti earlier, and they told me all about it.” He arched his dark brows at me, inviting me to speak. He probably wanted to hear all about how Nero had dove into the chasm after me.
I gave him monster details instead. By the time I’d told him about all the bizarre and terrifying monsters we’d encountered on the Black Plains, we’d all moved on to dessert. My time with my vanilla pudding was cut short, however, when Colonel Fireswift entered the canteen. The room fell silent, and everyone watched in surprise as he crossed the room to the head table and sat down in Nero’s chair. Well, that was ominous.
“The First Angel has put me in charge of this office until further notice.” His eyes flashed in triumph as they met mine. I’d never spoken a single word to the guy, and he already hated my guts. And now he was in charge. “Colonel Windstriker has been reassigned.” He spoke the words with a sense of finality, as though he never expected Nero to return.
Whispers rose from the crowd, and eyes turned in my direction. It seemed the events of last night’s adventure in the Lost City were common knowledge. And now they all thought it was my fault Nero was no longer here.
Colonel Fireswift lifted his hand into the air, and the whispers died out. “Things will be different here from now on. You’ll find that I am not as lenient as Colonel Windstriker.”
Jace slid into the seat beside me, looking positively ill. If Colonel Fireswift’s own son was afraid of him, the rest of us didn’t stand a chance.
“The First Angel wants you all to be ready,” Colonel Fireswift told us.
No one dared ask what it was we were getting ready for. The hard look on Colonel Fireswift’s face made it clear that frivolous questions would not be tolerated.
“Your updated schedules will be arriving shortly.”
Hundreds of phones buzzed simultaneously. I looked down at my schedule, which was blocked off for the mission on the Black Plains. Drake’s was the same.
“He neglected to schedule in time for sleep,” Ivy said drily, showing us her phone screen.
“That isn’t a mistake,” Jace said.
For the first time, Ivy looked like she actually felt sorry for him.
I’d lost my appetite. Not that there was time to eat anyway. According to Colonel Fireswift’s sadistic schedule, I had training in Hall Five with Jace. And the colonel himself would be overseeing this session.
An hour later, I had a broken arm and a bloody lip. My face was smeared with blood. My hair, which had started the training session in a ponytail, now fell across my shoulder. It was stained with my own blood too.
Based on my blurred vision and the persistent ringing in my ears—not to mention my complete inability to stand upright without swaying to the side—I was pretty sure I had a concussion. My body was a tapestry of fresh cuts and blossoming bruises. Colonel Fireswift believed in training with real weapons—and in fighting to kill. Jace wasn’t really trying to kill me, despite his father’s continued commands to do so.
The first five minutes of training had gone ok, up until Jace had knocked my sword from my hands, and I’d retaliated by throwing his metal thermos at his head. Colonel Fireswift had shot me with a telekinetic blast for my impudence and lack of proper decorum—and then promptly removed all such items from the room. Now it was just me, Jace, and the devil himself. Whose name was Colonel Fireswift.
“She’s barely standing. Knock her down now!” Colonel Fireswift snapped at Jace.
“There’s no honor in that,” his son replied.
“What has Windstriker been teaching you?” Colonel Fireswift demanded. “Honor is for fencing matches and ballet recitals. This is the Legion of Angels. We stand between humanity and its destruction, between good and evil. Soldiers of the Legion do not flinch, and they do not hesitate. We act, swiftly and mercilessly, to strike down the fiends. Before they strike down you.” He waved Jace aside. “I will show you how it’s done.”
Colonel Fireswift faced me, but his words were for his son. “The most dangerous monsters are not the beasts beyond the wall. They are the ones who look like us—supernaturals who serve demons, rogues who only serve themselves. Osiris Wardbreaker, what is he?”