Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(43)

“My mother’s not having a good day,” he said, turning his head in the direction of his home. “She’s somewhere else today. Healer Keir is with her. I didn’t want her alone.”

“I’m sorry, Blue. I know you wanted her here.”

“She was so excited about me becoming First Wing.” Illium’s hand clenched around the small pin he’d been given as part of the honor. “When she realizes that she missed it . . . it’ll make her so sad, Adi.” His eyes shining wet, he swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to fix that.”

Aodhan’s chest got all tight. He couldn’t bear it when Illium was sad. “I have an idea,” he said. “Wait here.” He left his friend in the company of two other trainees who’d run over to congratulate him—no one was jealous of Illium gaining the honor. No one was ever angry at Illium. He was everyone’s friend, often helped others better their skills—and they all knew how hard he worked.

Aodhan’s Blue put in twice the hours as most trainees.

It took Aodhan a bit of time to twist and duck and make his way close to Raphael, and then he had to stand off to the side until the archangel noticed him. Youngsters didn’t go up and interrupt archangels while they were in conversation. But Raphael turned to him far quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Aodhan,” he murmured, after excusing himself from his discussion with a senior trainer. “Where is Lady Sharine?”

Raphael was one of the few people who used Eh-ma’s name. Most people called her the Hummingbird. “She’s away,” Aodhan said, knowing Raphael would understand. “Illium is sad because her heart will break when she realizes she missed this.”

Raphael’s eyes darkened, and he brushed his fingers over Aodhan’s hair. “He’s too young to have such worries on his shoulders.”

“I was thinking,” Aodhan blurted out because he could see someone else heading this way, no doubt wanting Raphael’s attention, “that when she’s better, you could come and present him with his pin again, and we could pretend it was the ceremony?”

The intense, dangerous blue of Raphael’s eyes pierced Aodhan, the power that burned off him an incandescent heat. “I do not believe in lies, Aodhan,” Raphael said at last, “but there are some lies that are told to save a heart. So we will do this so Lady Sharine’s heart doesn’t break.”

A firm, reassuring touch on Aodhan’s shoulder. “Tell Illium not to worry and to enjoy his day. He’s earned it. I’ll speak to the head trainer and make sure he’s also present at our private ceremony—he’s a good man, and he loves Lady Sharine as well as you or I.”

Eyes hot, Aodhan wanted to wrap his arms around Raphael, but he was nearly a halfling now, and such impositions into an archangel’s personal space wouldn’t be forgiven as they would in a child. But then Raphael enclosed him in his arms and in his wings, and murmured, “You are a good friend, Aodhan.”





Power isn’t everything—the bonds that tie us to one another, forged by emotion and battle and friendship, that’s what makes us strong.

    —Illium





25



Today

Dawn had come.

Suyin’s people had woken and broken bread.

It was almost time for Aodhan to say good-bye to his archangel as she led the survivors toward the open, windswept piece of the coast where she would build her new stronghold—a place of grace and beauty that was true to her. The defenses would be external, the home within a balm to her wounded soul.

Even now, she chafed against the need for what she termed a “defensive display.” “It doesn’t suit who I am, Aodhan.”

About to remind her that necessity had to trump her dedication to architectural form, he stopped and thought about it. “Raphael’s Tower is in the center of a thriving city, and has no battlements,” he said. “But everyone knows that sentries monitor all approaches to it. It’s also no secret that the top of the Tower can be turned into a battle command station.”

Aodhan had never thought about the subtleties of Raphael’s show of power until that moment. “The display doesn’t have to be overt,” he verbalized to Suyin. “It just has to be known.”

Suyin gave him a long look. “You’ve taught me much, Aodhan.” A fleeting touch of his hand, a gentle softness to her expression. “Would that we could be more as desired by so many, but we are too akin, you and I.”

It was the first time she’d made any reference to what others in angelkind had whispered of for the past year. Aodhan knew of those whispers because his sister had passed them on—they’d become closer after the birth of his nephew, Imalia having pronounced him the best of uncles, and now she spoke and wrote to him on a regular basis. She also loved to gossip.

“Most of the Refuge is convinced you’d make the perfect couple,” she’d said early on in his sojourn in China. “Both of you beautiful and artistic and quiet. They’re saying your home would be a place of perfect grace and harmony.”

Aodhan didn’t know his sibling that well, not when they’d so recently reconnected, but he knew her enough to pick up a particular tone in her voice. “You don’t agree.”