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her shoulder. When she looked up, Avia was staring right at her. The olive-skinned woman blinked, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

“You’re right,” she said, dismissing her last question. She lounged back onto the pillows and returned her gaze to the ceiling. “You’re not as weak as before.”

Val waited for her to continue but silence filled the space between them. Reading that the conversation was done, she turned to leave.

“Wait.” Avia was still staring off, but something like a smile hinted at her lips. Relaxed, even. “The showers on the eighth floor get the hottest.”

Val smiled. At least they had one thing in common. When Avia didn’t say anything else, she took her cue to leave. She started back down the hall and heard the metallic door slide shut.

It was done. She had no idea where to go next, but what had just occurred was a major success.

Step one: befriend the Sin of Wrath.

Well, befriend was a strong word. Even still, she hadn’t gotten burned alive, so that had to count for something. Any win was a victory if she hoped to stop a war.

Epilogue

Vladimir stepped into the memorial courtyard and sat on the nearest bench. The silence was killing him. Not even the waterfalls lining the perimeter made a sound. He glanced up at the angel and tried to read an expression. Red hair veiled his face in a breeze that was just uncomfortable. It was like the air couldn’t read the room and discern its caress wasn’t welcome.

After the mild interrogation about being late, Zadkiel had realized it wasn’t worth the effort. The angel had been stressed. No mask of indifference could eclipse the hundreds of tiny lines that cracked beneath his surface. As per usual, it came down to Vladimir to make the first move.

“So Wrath met Bael, huh?”

Zadkiel shrugged and leaned back against one of the many stone statues. “Greater demons, bindings, and a human Raven.” He shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the world was ending.”

Vladimir gave a soft laugh and laid back across the bench. “Glad to see His Highness is taking it so seriously.” His eyes drifted to the colored bricks beneath them. He followed them past Zadkiel. They circled around the stones until they formed the mural of the late king and queen.

“He’s been…” Zadkiel paused, searching the sky for words. “Occupied. Wrath surprised us, to say the least. She channeled the aether into her body and opened a gateway directly onto the castle grounds. Not even angels can do that without a pre-existing Avenue.” He scratched the roman number two that ran along his neck. “Michael has also been distracted by his new spell book.”

 â€śHe does love his spells.” Vladimir glanced up when Zadkiel didn’t answer. The angel was again lost in the passing clouds. Shadows crossed his face and the scarlet mane outlined tension in his jaw.

“It’s crazy, the thing with Greed,” Vladimir continued.

Zadkiel blinked and turned, as if slowly remembering he wasn’t alone. “Yes. It’s… strange.” His eyes wandered across the stone sculptures that ornamented the enclosure.

Solomon. Ramiel. Fin. Arthur. Joan.

Heroes of Heaven, Earth Proper, and the Annwn were all scribed into the history of the world. Zadkiel’s gaze fell on the statue of Solomon, and he turned away in response.

“What’s that thing humans say? Die a hero…”

“Or live long enough to become the villain,” Vladimir answered quietly.

His gaze fell; Vladimir could practically bend the shadows that crossed the angel’s face. Cheering him up was a pointless endeavor. It always had been. Standing to his feet, he stretched and cracked his neck. “I want to get going. I’ll go crazy if I sit around until the Summit starts.”

Zadkiel laughed. It was a small sound, but genuine. “So, what you mean is that you don’t want to risk running into the Queen of the Eastern Kingdom?”

“Exactly.” And with that, Vladimir spun on his heels and walked to the waterfalls. There were seven that ran down the east wall. Each poured into one of a dozen tiny ravines that branched through the courtyard. They would continue down the mountain into the main river that ran through Le Ciel. From there the cycle would repeat.

Down. Across. Down. Up.

Down. Across. Down. Up.

It was like a soldier following the orders Queen Hyacynthie had given when she enchanted the river millennia before.

Vladimir swung his arms in a mock of the Host’s march as he led them inside. “Just think about it. We get to stretch our wings and chill in the God of the Dead’s palace. They have the best food—”

Zadkiel sighed. The ever-familiar kill me now expression replaced the somber visage. “It traps you there forever.”

“Then it must be good!” Vladimir turned down the next hall and looked over his shoulder. “And I’ve heard the women are to die for.”

Zadkiel rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smirk.

Several minutes later, the hall shifted. The Fenestram to the Underworld was smaller than the other portals. It was a swirling arch of black and brown. There wasn’t another doorway for miles. Vladimir stared into the darkness and tightened his fist. There was no lock, no spell. It was just common sense to stay out of the realm of the dead without an invitation.

Tearing away, he stared past the endless expanse. He narrowed his eyes on where the castle would be. It was only four steps away. He hadn’t realized how long he’d zoned out until Zadkiel forced an impatient cough.

“Worried about your ghoul?”

Vladimir looked back to the gate and smiled. “Not at all.” And with that, he closed his eyes and stepped forward into death.

Outerlude

“It looks like another piece will be entering the board,” the blue player said. “I want

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