Brimstone had had a cathedral beneath the cityAkiva hadnt found it when he walked in a daze through the ruins, because it had been buried, its entrances collapsed and disguised. And in it, in stasis, were souls. Souls uncounted. Children, women. The souls of thousands of chimaera who hadnt yet gone beyond hope of retrieval.
Akiva had told Karou, back in Morocco, that he would do anythingthat he would die a death for every slain chimaera if it would bring them back. Hed said it in the bleakness of believing the words were hollow, that there was nothing he could ever do to prove that he meant them. But there was.
Let me help you, he said at once. Karou please. So many souls, you cant do it alone. Shed said it wasnt quite redemption? It was so much closer than hed ever thought hed come to it. And if redemption was self-serving, coming as it did ribbon-tied to what he wanted most in life? For once, Akivas shame wouldnt rise to the bait. He wanted what hed always wanted, and hed better just say it, his own worries and fears be damned. Whoever she loved, him or the Wolf or no one, he would find out. Its all I want, to be beside you, helping you. If it takes forever, all the better, if its forever with you.
And the stone table was between them, a barrier, but there could be no barrier to the smile that was her answer. It was another new species, and Akiva thought that he could spend a thousand years with her please and still be discovering new species of smiles. This one was unbearable, sweet as music and heavy as tears. It was all her tension, all her wariness and uncertainty, melting into light.
It was her heart, this smile, and it was for him.
Okay, she said. Her voice was small, but the word was bright and heavy, like something he could reach for, and hold.
Okay. Okay, he could help her? Okay to forever?
Okay.
If that could have been the end of it. Or the beginning. If they could fly together now to Loramendi. Let forever begin now . But of course it couldnt. Karou spoke again, and her voice was still small, still bright and heavy, but if her okay had been serene and sun-warmed and smooth as a stone, her next words had thorns.
If we live that long, she said.
31
THE OPPOSITE OF SURVIVAL
Ziri
stood in the doorway. In a glance, he perceived the situation.
Three of his soldiers were dead at his feet. Oora, Sihid, Ves. Wasted flesh, wasted pain, and more blood to walk through. Of those still living, Rark loomed largest, his great ax glinting in the dim, but Ziris eyes cut straight to Liraz. Her wingfire burned lowit burned dying lowbut she was still the brightest thing in the room. She was shudder-wracked and waxen white, empty-eyed and hollowed out, and she was laughing? Crying? A horrible sound. She was hemmed in by chimaera, held up by them, and only their grip could be keeping her upright in such a statekeeping her upright and killing her at the same time.
Could a seraph die from the touch of hamsas? One sight of Liraz, and Ziri thought yes . But that wasnt how they meant to kill her. They held her arms stretched out before her, and in that first glance, Ziri thought he understood.
Rark. The ax. They were going to cut off her arms.
But the ax was at rest against Rarks thick shoulder, and the truth came together out of shreds. Sound, sight, odor. The snarl. Slaver strung from yellow fangs, and the reek of triumph. Ten.
That fact hit Ziri like a sucker punch, driving the breath from him. It was Ten. Oh Nitid, oh Ellai, no. Of all the soldiers under his command his fellow trespasser, his co-conspirator. The one who knew his secret.
She was poised to lunge. And though her body was more human than not, right now her back humped wolflike above her lowered head, fur bristling at the ridge of her shoulders, and the sound of her growl was animal and guttural felt as much as heard. The room reeked of blood and bowels and burning, hot and close and dead. Corpses and vengeance and no turning back. And Ziri knew what Ten Haxaya meant to do.
Stop. It was the White Wolfs voice, smooth and cold as iron, but it was underscored by a horror that was purely Ziris. This scene would not have horrified the Wolf, who had ripped apart angels with his own sharp teeth. And once the immediate threat was averted and Ten had swung around to face him, Ziri wasnt sure why it horrified him as profoundly as it did. He didnt kill with his teeth, but hed fought alongside many chimaera who didand with beaks and claws and horns and spiked tails, and any other weapon at their disposal. Against the superior might of the seraphim, it was a matter of survival.
But this wasnt. This was the opposite of survival.
This was everything put at risk: the alliance, of course, but the deception, too. Because it was Ten.
Because it was Ten, Ziri stood stiff and silent as Rark and the Dracands spun to face him, too, and Nisk and Lisseth drew up behind him. Because it was Ten, he didnt know what to say. He felt Haxaya peering out at him through the she-wolfs yellow eyes, and there was no fear in her, only a sly and roguish contempt.