Before he could think, I summoned a ball of nightfire and then turned it into a rope. The rope lashed around him and he cried out in surprise. I pulled on the rope and swung it to one side to launch him into the cage that had so recently held Gabriel. Antares slammed into the electrified bars and howled in pain.
Somehow I knew that the sword could rebind the bars that it had so recently cut. This new knowledge was more than a little disconcerting. It was like having Evangeline inside me again. As useful as the sword had been for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted another entity working through me.
I waved the sword at the fallen bars and they lifted from the ground, rejoining the rest of the cage. Before Antares had stopped screaming I had pressed the blade to the cuts in the metal and they instantly resealed. Antares was trapped.
“What was that again about claiming honors from Focalor?” I asked.
Antares glared at me. “You will pay for this, sister.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. You see, you are an outcast from Azazel’s court. That means that Focalor is in big trouble for harboring you against the laws of Lucifer’s kingdom in addition to all of his other crimes. It also means that Azazel will be very happy to know your location.”
I leaned close to the cage and showed Antares my teeth. “Do you think our father will be happy with you when he finds you?”
Antares couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. “I will be long gone before Azazel arrives.”
“We’ll see. These cages have bound the nephilim for thousands of years.”
He scuttled on his knees to the bars, but was careful not to touch. “When I am released from this cage, sister, I will . . .”
“Tear out my entrails, eat my eyeballs, cut off my tongue, blah-de-blah-blah. Get a new tagline,” I said.
Then I turned my back on him, took Gabriel’s hand in mine, and walked away to the sound of his furious howls.
We had walked for a while in silence when I said, “Do you have any idea where we are?”
He shook his head. “I was blindfolded and placed in the cage. The cage was then put in the heart of the Maze and my blindfold removed. I am sure that Amarantha did this deliberately to prevent my assisting you should you reach me. But, Madeline, we do have wings.”
I smiled at him. “I don’t know why I always forget that. It would probably be a lot easier to find Amarantha’s castle from the sky.”
He grinned back, and despite the obvious suffering he had endured he was still the handsomest man I had ever seen. Suddenly he went still, coughed, and blood covered his smile. It was then that I saw the arrow protruding from his chest.
“Gabriel!” I shouted, and he fell heavily to the ground on his side.
“Oh, gods above and below,” I said, falling to my knees. I was sure this wound would be nothing to him if he wasn’t so weak already. But he had been tortured and abused for days, and likely starved. I put my hands over the wound in his chest. “What should I do?”
“Arrow,” he said, and it was a struggle for him to get out that one word.
“Right, get the arrow out,” I said. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly. The tip had sliced cleanly through his skin so I needed to break the shaft and then pull each half from his front and back.
But I didn’t get a chance, because that was when the train wreck hit me. Again.
A huge and heavy body knocked into me and sent me flying. I slammed into a tree and fell to the ground, dazed. Samiel stalked toward me, his green eyes furious and insane—Ariell’s eyes. He wore a bow slung over his shoulder. I scrambled to my feet and blasted him with nightfire before he had a chance to get his paws on me. I wasn’t about to let him beat the crap out of me again.
The nightfire hit him square in the chest. I could see it rend his skin, leaving a horrible burn. But he didn’t make a noise, and he didn’t stop. He just kept coming at me, hands curled into fists.
I gave him another blast and then dodged out of the reach of his hands. He simply turned and continued to come after me with the same bullheaded determination. Pain didn’t seem to affect him.
I felt a little squiggle of panic. Then I saw the sword that I had dropped at Gabriel’s side. I called it to me and it came to my hand. As Samiel approached, I swung the sword down toward his chest.
And he took it right out of my hand, even though the blade sliced his palm open. He flipped the sword in an instant and slashed it down toward me. I held my hand up like an idiot to block his blow, and the blade sliced off the last two fingers of my left hand.
I screamed and gave him a full blast of nightfire in the face. He couldn’t ignore that, so he dropped the point of the sword to the ground and backed away for a minute, rubbing his eyes. He still had not made a single sound.
“Okay,” I said, cradling my injured hand to my chest. Blood spouted from the stumps of my fingers in quick bursts. I pushed my wings out and winked out of sight.
I wasn’t going to stand there and let Samiel chase me all over the clearing. My magic was ineffective against him. He had taken my sword and part of my hand. My best bet was to grab Gabriel and fly out of there before Samiel had a chance to figure out what was going on.
But as I spread my wings to fly up, Samiel grabbed my ankle. Right. He was an immortal. He could see me even though I would be invisible to a human. Stupid. My brain wasn’t working right. I was too tired from my ordeal in the Maze and, hey, just a little blood loss.
I blasted his hand where it gripped my ankle but he held on tight. It was as if he’d been programmed to destroy me and he was not going to stop. Ever. He dragged me down and began to hit me in the face with the same steady determination that he had used the first time we’d met.
It is very hard to strategize when you are being pummeled to death. But I had a flash of wrapping Antares in a rope of nightfire.
I called up all my strength, all my will, all the power that had helped me survive the Maze. The clearing was suddenly lit with a blaze of sunlight, and I knew that it came from me.
A sinuous strand of nightfire curled out of my palm and wrapped around Samiel’s arms. It whirled around him until he was bound completely from neck to midthigh. He fell to the ground and so did I, my eyes momentarily blinded from sweat and blood, and my head dizzy.
After a minute I was able to get up, collect the sword, and stagger over to Samiel. He sat on the ground wrapped in the nightfire rope, and his face was furious.
I knew that if I killed him, Lucifer would be pissed at me. Amarantha was right—Lucifer was fanatical about his bloodline. But if I didn’t kill Samiel, he would just keep coming after me until he succeeded in pounding me to a pulp.
I raised the sword, intending to cut his head off. He watched me, not flinching, not making any attempt to save his own life. He was angry that he had lost, but there was also something resigned in his face.
That resignation made me stop, made me lower the sword to the ground.
Samiel shook his head at me, and he seemed angrier still that I had halted his execution. “Ed-by.”
“Ed-by?” I said. “What is that, some kind of demon curse?”
“Ed-by!” he shouted. “Ed-by, ed-by, ed-by, ed-by!”
Something in the rhythm of his words reminded me of the vision I’d had of him and Focalor in the Forbidden Lands. Ed-by. Enemy.
“Enemy?” I repeated and as I looked at him all the pieces clicked together.
Samiel’s total silence in the face of pain. The grunting and gesturing he’d used to communicate with Focalor. The strange pronunciation of “enemy.”