Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(22)

Avelina had been his lieutenant when he’d ridden into battle as a general, had agreed to stand as his second for the moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t wish to be in his court. Quite the opposite. “I’m a good lieutenant,” she’d said to him, “and I will of course walk by your side as you grow into your power. But seconds have to be so much more than lieutenants and I won’t hobble you due to your loyalty.”

When Alexander had scowled, she’d laughed, her trademark husky tone warm with affection. “Oh, Alex, you know how you are. There’s arrogance there, but it’s well earned—your most enduring trait, however, is that you are loyal to those you choose as your own. You might now be an archangel, but that doesn’t mean you’re no longer the same warrior I followed into battle and who I knew would have my back in any situation.”

Only very few people still spoke to Alexander with such openness. That was a reality he hadn’t understood until he ascended. Now it made so much sense to him that Callie had never put distance between them; she’d needed the frank honesty of a friend. Such was a gift, one that became near impossible to find when you were one of the most powerful beings in the entire world.

Today, Avelina nodded over at where Zanaya was departing the court, her squadron fed and rested and ready to take off from the desert sands so prevalent in his territory. Much of his land was colored in the hues of sunset, and Alexander would have it no other way. As Osiris had his lush tropical island, Alexander had his land of whispering sands, date palms tall and proud, and hidden aquamarine oases.

He and Avelina stood on a high parapet of the old fort of rich red stone that had already been in place when Alexander took over these lands. He’d build his own fort, to his own specifications, but until then, there was nothing wrong with this one—built by another warrior archangel, it was designed for defense and offense both.

“She is lovely and strong,” Avelina said, “and I see how she looks at you.” A slight narrowing of her eyes as the desert breeze blew across the scents of the bustling marketplace just outside the walls of the fort. “There’s arrogance there too—but it isn’t earned. Not yet. She’s young, a little foolish. But we were so as youths, too. Do you remember?”

“Far too well,” Alexander muttered as he watched Zanaya take off in a sweep of wings that reminded him of the stars at midnight, diamond pinpricks in the black. “It’s all I can do not to pull her back, not to have her by my side, but I know that in so doing, I’ll change her.” It was inevitable.

“Yes.” Avelina pushed back from the parapet. “One day, she’ll understand that.”

Until then, he thought, she’d think him a coward unwilling to take a risk. Alexander would’ve raged against anyone else who dared have such thoughts—but Zanaya was young and a little foolish. That was the way of things.

“Come,” he said to his friend and acting second, “we need to finish our sweep of the eastern border. The fortifications there are crumbling.”

“Yes, it’s lucky that you have Sha-yi on that border,” Avelina said as she put space between them so they could take off without tangling wings. “She’s old and pondering Sleep and not in the mood to pick a fight with a young archangel.”

Alexander paused. “Do you think it’s odd? So many of the old ones starting to slip away?”

Avelina made a face. “These are not things I think about, sire. I’m a battle hand.”

On that blunt statement, they flew out to the border that had none of the forbidding and ice-laden mountains that could be found in other parts of his territory, but the question was yet on Alexander’s mind when he met up with Caliane the next winter. She’d flown to him for the visit, for her land was now far more stable—she’d had longer as an archangel, was already becoming known in the Cadre for her calm way and unyielding spine.

When he brought up the subject with her as they sat side by side on rocks perched on a snowy mountaintop that was part of a much bigger range, the two of them feasting on the dried meats, nuts, and plump dates they’d brought along for lunch, she said, “I’ve noticed it too. I even spoke to the Librarian, asked if we had records of past Cadres.”

“You mean he hasn’t keeled over dead yet?” The Librarian was so old that Alexander was certain he must have cobwebs growing in his full white beard.

Caliane blurted out a laugh. “Alex!” A punch to his shoulder.

Alexander grinned and tore off a piece of dried meat. “I mean he has to be old,” he said after he’d chewed and swallowed. “He actually looks old!” Immortals didn’t show age after they reached a certain point of adulthood, their physical progression from that time on so imperceptible as to be non-existent.

“He’s always had white hair, you idiot. All his family does. As you well know.” Lips still curved, she dug into the bag for her favorite dried berries. “But yes, he does look a touch older than is usual among our kind—which makes him a great Librarian and Historian. He knows so many pieces of our history that I sometimes wonder if he even knew the Ancestors.”

A cold wind swept through Alexander’s bones at the mention of the angels said to Sleep below the Refuge. Angels who were so old that they might well be another species altogether. “Have you ever asked him?”