Caliane inclined her head as Raphael grabbed Illium before he would’ve toppled backward as he straightened from the bow. “Sit, child,” Raphael’s mother ordered. “You are damaged.”
Illium didn’t argue.
“Damaged?” Elena’s tone was sharp. “Is it something we need to worry about?”
“No. He should recover now that the power is out of him.” Caliane leaned back in her seat, her hair pulled back in a braid and her body clad in old combat leathers much like Elena. “Though the angel in my youth died, there were rumors of another young angel who ascended too early but who survived because he had a bond of blood—and of trust—with his archangel. He was weak after the power transfer, but made a complete recovery.”
She looked at Raphael. “The archangel, however, gained in strength.”
Raphael felt his blood cool. “I don’t intend to steal what is rightfully Illium’s.” He’d done what he had only to save Illium’s life.
“You may have it, sire. I insist.”
Ignoring Illium’s slurred words, Raphael held his mother’s gaze. “I can’t forcefully stop his ascension if this is what he’s meant to become.”
“The sudden ascensions of the too young occur only during a Cascade,” Caliane pointed out. “On all three occasions that I know of, the angel in question was either an archangel’s second or otherwise in his innermost circle.”
“You think the power transfer is the point.” Coming over so she could look at the screen, Elena stood with her body and her wings touching Raphael’s in a quiet, potent intimacy. “But what if Raphael hadn’t been here?”
“The Cascade is never predictable, Consort,” Caliane said, a sense of crushing age in her voice. “There’s no way to foretell if such an incident will reoccur, or if it was the only time and the boy is no longer in any danger.” Her eyes held Raphael’s. “All I can tell you is that if you don’t take the power, he’ll die and he’ll take tens of thousands with him. There is no other possible outcome.”
“The fact you can even absorb the power,” Elena said slowly, “that’s got to mean something, right?”
Caliane raised an eyebrow. “A salient point. A true ascension does not permit any interference, not even by the strongest Ancient.”
They spoke further, but Caliane knew little else. Signing off, Raphael turned to find that Illium had struggled to his feet again. His face was stripped of all shields, suddenly unbearably young. “I’m not ready,” he said again, his voice shaken. “I’m not ready to leave your Seven.”
Grabbing him by the side of his neck as he had earlier, Raphael hauled him into his arms. “I’m not ready for you to go.” His eyes met Elena’s over Illium’s head as the blue-winged angel held on tight. My mother is right. Now is not his time. Illium would become a power one day, but he had to grow into that strength, not have it forced into him by the violence of the Cascade.
Beside Elena stood a white-faced Aodhan. He’ll need you now more than ever, Aodhan, Raphael said. Keep him in the present, not in a future that may or may not happen.
Eyes of fractured blue and crystalline green, the shards bursting outward from jet-black pupils met Raphael’s. Yes, sire.
Releasing Illium only after the younger angel had stopped trembling, Raphael looked into eyes that were back to their usual bright gold, devoid of the dark red flame. “Go to your suite. Rest. We’ll speak more when you wake—but know one thing. If this happens again, I’ll be there.”
“Lady Caliane said it’s unpredictable.”
“If the power transfer is the point as it seems to be,” Raphael pointed out, “it’ll occur while I’m nearby.”
Illium’s shuddering relief was suddenly overwhelmed by an emotion that drew his skin tight over his cheekbones. “My mother—”
“I’ve already told Dmitri to make sure the Hummingbird knows you’re safe and that what happened today was a simple experiment to do with your abilities and mine, gone a little awry.” Illium’s mother was still in Raphael’s territory, but she’d gone to visit with Jason and Mahiya today. “Jason will confirm and keep her away from any recordings that may have been captured.”
The blue-winged angel’s eyes shone wet. “Thank you, sire. She . . .”
“I will watch over her, Illium.” Raphael would never be ungentle with the Hummingbird. “Now go.”
Waiting until the younger angel left the room, Aodhan acting as his support, Raphael turned to Elena. “So long as Illium is safe, the Hummingbird will accept a vague explanation, but we need to find a way to explain this to the wider immortal world as something other than an ascension.” Should any of the Cadre believe Illium a weak archangel, he’d become a target.
“I have an idea.” Dmitri ran into the office. “I’ve been working on it since the instant I saw you fly toward Illium.” Raphael’s second thrust a hand through his hair, his black T-shirt stretching over his chest. “All anyone really saw was Illium and you speed up into the sky. The images taken via telescopes and satellites just show a blinding haze of light.” He put several printed images on Honor’s desk.
Each showed a glow painful enough to cause flickering afterimages on the retinas. No way to tell who was inside the light.
“I’ll allow it to leak that you and Illium were testing a power transfer like Lijuan can do with her troops.” Dmitri’s tone was clear, his features grim. “I’ll also let it drop that it went wrong and Illium lost the power in an uncontrolled surge that caused the rain and lightning. No one’s going to forget the sheer fury of the incident—failed experiment or not, you’re clearly no easy target.” A short pause before his lips curved in a grim smile. “The belief that you’ve been running dangerous experiments with him will also answer the lingering questions about his earlier fall.”
“Do it.” Raphael had appreciated Dmitri’s tactical mind many times over the centuries, but never more than today. “No one wants to accept that an angel barely over five hundred years old could ascend. All we have to do is provide an alternative explanation.”
Elena picked up one of the photographs after Dmitri left. “Raphael, is it my imagination or are you stronger?”
Of course, his consort would feel the change. They were too intimately entwined for it to be otherwise. “What I drew from Illium didn’t leach off. It’s become woven into my body, an auxiliary generator of a kind.”
Dropping the photograph, Elena faced him, her boots touching his. “If Caliane’s power transfer theory is right, then Illium became more temporarily because you need more power than you can generate on your own.” She spread one hand protectively over his heart, brushing the thumb of her other over his right temple, over the Legion mark. “Something bad is coming. Worse than before.”
Enclosing her in his wings and his arms, Raphael didn’t say anything. They both knew she was right.
Eleven archangels.
A dangerous near ascension that could’ve annihilated an entire city.
Two Ancients walking the earth.
An archangel who could give a twisted form of life.
The Cascade was gathering momentum.
Beijing was already gone. New York and Elijah’s territory had barely survived. No one could predict how much of the world would be left standing when the Cascade ended.
“Together, hbeebti.”
“Always, Archangel.”