I didn’t hesitate. Clambering to my feet, I dragged Jo and Bond behind me through the door, and there was a loud clang that I could only assume was Azazel deflecting one of Pythius’ attacks. We burst out into the field surrounding the cabin and stumbled to the edge where the woods began. We huddled behind a tall bush, and I collapsed to the ground, feeling suddenly exhausted. I could quickly feel the energy draining more and more away from my body, and I struggled to get breath in.

“Alright, what are we supposed to do from here?” Bond asked quietly. The wind rustled in the trees overhead, the forest was almost whispering its secrets, trying to speak of what was happening in the cabin.

“I don’t know,” I choked out, still trying to catch my breath.

“Why don’t we just go back home?” Jo asked.

“I don’t think that’s really an option,” Bond responded gravely.

“Why not? Why can’t that be the option?”

“For starters, Ama has a goddamned wing on her back. How do you explain that to people?”

“Obviously she’s a half-angel half-human hybrid freak.”

“Wow, you think so highly of me, thank you,” I grunted, slowly turning over to my side. Cold quickly crept up my fingers and toes, entwining around my bones and holding me still.

“Are you okay?” Jo asked, coming to huddle over me.

“I’m freezing,” I spat out.

“Here, hold on,” Jo said, taking off her jacket, and I shook my head and said, “No, keep it. You guys almost died a couple of minutes ago.”

“I feel perfectly fine, don’t worry,” she said, wrapping the jacket around my body. Bond went about warming my hands and arms in his hands. He made a sound of surprise, probably at how chilly my skin was. It did nothing to belay the uncontrollable shivering that overtook me.

“What is going on?” I muttered to myself, curling more into myself.

“She’s harnessing her fire,” Madison answered beside me. She was sitting cross-legged, staring at the cabin, and I strained to see what she was seeing. The cold seemed to even freeze my muscles. My whole body felt stiff and was unyielding to my actions. I groaned in frustration, and Jo and Bond passed some words back and forth, but I was listening to Madison. She said, “Azazel is Bearer of the Divine Fire. It can burn through anything, obliterate anything, but it takes a lot of energy to channel. That’s why you’re so cold. She’s taking your energy.”

“Divine Fire?” I asked, feeling my body lock up.

“Yeah, just give it a second. You’re in for a show,” she said back. From the cabin, Pythius let out a monstrous roar that rattled the trees in the forest, and a second after that, the cabin exploded. Pythius was still roaring, but they turned into agonized cries, and the feeling and motion was suddenly released back to my body, and I sat up just in time to see Pythius staggering out of the fire. In the overwhelming light of the blaze, his face was melting and enraged, and for a split second, our eyes met.

“You!” he bellowed. He shot out tendrils savagely, and I immediately cowered, bringing up my arms to try to protect myself. My wing curled in front of me, and there was a sound like a ball hitting glass, and I slowly opened my eyes. The tendrils were still hovering in place, frozen in their attack, but Pythius was standing awkwardly, crookedly, and there was a glowing spear poking out of his chest. He was still staring at me from across the field, and his whisper carried through the distance, “You are too late. Everything is going according to plan.”

A gust of wind carried across the field, and with it, Pythius. In a swift and broken motion, he flung himself forward off of the spear and sprinted off. He took one giant lunge, landing somewhere behind the cabin, and I stared in horror for a few moments at where he had gone. We all listened anxiously, but nothing happened, and the danger seemed to have retreated. Jo and Bond were behind me, and then Bond cleared his throat and said, “So . . . you have a force field now?”

I glanced at him, then back at the fire as Azazel headed toward us. “Um, I guess.”

“So, this is kind of, weird.” Jo and I turned to look at him, and we gave him identical looks. ‘No shit, Sherlock.’

“Are you all safe?” Azazel asked as she approached us.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jo answered. They helped me to my feet, and I glanced over at Azazel. Her clothes were ripped in a couple of places where Pythius had probably stabbed through her, but she seemed fine for the most part. She looked very tired, probably as I was, too.

“What are you going to do about Pythius?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed.

“He is far too weak to be of any real danger to anyone, as am I. I will allow him to roam for now, but he will be coming back again.”

“Shouldn’t we go out and hunt him down?” Bond suggested.

“Even in his weakened state, he will still kill you and your companions in an instant. It is best to wait for me to regain enough energy.”

“What about Eleanor and Agatha? Where are they?” Jo asked.

“They are safe. I sent them to the Ninth Branch,” she said, rubbing her face. She was smudged all over with soot. Her clothes were surprisingly modern, and I hadn’t noticed until she wasn’t trying to kill me. She had a sleeveless black shirt and slim fitting jeans with a pair of combat boots.

“Where did you get your clothes?” I asked curiously.

“Really?” Jo asked behind me.

“Shut up, it’s an actual question,” I barked at her.

Azazel glanced down at her torn outfit and answered, “The Branches have always kept clothes for me.”

“The Branches?” I asked, at first confused, but then it hit me, and I asked again, “They all knew you were coming?”

“I have always been here. I have not always been in this country. I go where my wing is, and all of my followers understand that,” she said back, giving me a peculiar look.

“Wait, are you still going to kill me?” I asked, looking at her warily.

She looked at me for a moment, sizing me up, then answered, “No. I will not kill you for now, but one day I will take back my wing, and whether that takes your life or not will be of no concern to me.”

Stunned, I just stared, and Jo and Bond spoke up behind me, protesting. I shook my head and hushed them, said, “I guess I can’t fight you on that. This is yours, after all, but there’s something we need to do first, isn’t there?”

“Agreed.”

“Did you see the vision?”

“No. Only Agatha saw the vision.”

“How did you even get them there?”

“I didn’t send them anywhere. I brought them far enough away from the cabin, and they headed out on foot from there.”

“So they could be lost in the forest is what you’re saying,” Bond spoke up.

“No, because I know exactly where they are,” she answered back. She pushed past us and began walking. I glanced at Bond and Jo and shrugged. Flying was evidently out of the question. There was no fast way to get to them, but we would eventually find them. Azazel was more in tune with Agatha and Eleanor’s thoughts and emotions than I was. It made sense that she’d be able to find them faster.

“Wait, where’s my car?” I asked suddenly, alarmed.

“Agatha and Eleanor have it. It was the fastest way for them to get out,” Azazel said indifferently.

“Aw, what the hell,” I groaned. “Is she even still alive?” Azazel glanced back at me and said, “Yes. She is the reason I am so weak now.”

“What did you do?” Bond asked.

“I reworked her energy to heal her body, but in doing so, I used a lot of my own energy. An injury like hers would kill a normal human being.”

“But she’s not normal is she?” I asked.

“No, she is not, otherwise she would not be a Grand Moderator,” Azazel said, a hint of pride in her voice.

“Is she okay?” Bond asked.

“She is weak, but she is still alive,” Azazel responded, and then silence fell on us. Part of me was still back near where the cabin had exploded, how Pythius had fled and was hiding somewhere in the woods. I tried not to think too much about how he could be hiding anywhere, but I had to rely on Azazel’s confidence in this situation. If she felt he was too weak to do anything, to hurt anyone or stalk us out, maybe he actually was. There wasn’t any use in psyching myself out when I was already exhausted. I could feel Azazel’s exhaustion radiating about her like a cold aura. She was more tired and drained than she was letting on. I studied her silently, feeling safe to be fascinated by her in this moment.

She and I were the same height. Her hair was jet-black and just past her hips. Her wing was tucked neatly on her back behind her hair. I glanced back at my own. I hadn’t figured out how to tuck it away. I’d only managed to put it behind me so that it wouldn’t catch too much air and pull me back as I walked forward. The tips of my wing were dragging on the ground softly behind me. I made a face, but did nothing.

Azazel even walked like me. Her hips swayed in a determined, confident manner. Her arms seemed to move in a similar way, and she held her head up with an almost arrogant demeanor. Like me. Or was I like her? This was a weird concept for me to still wrap my mind around. How much of me was me? How much of me was her? It didn’t help that she didn’t have any of the answers I was looking for either. I didn’t know how much of her memories she didn’t remember, or if she still remembered all of them and I was just observing them and learning about her life. It was really fascinating, or at least I tried to be fascinated by it. There was a precarious see saw tilt of fascination and existential terror. Did I actually exist? Or was I just a copy of her?

I was physically identical to her, and she was an actual living relic, a piece of myth come to life. I had actual concrete evidence that angels existed, which must mean that God existed. My mind spun briefly with all the possibilities this could mean for the world, but just as quickly as my mind rushed to ending so many arguments that survived the years, the truth of how people really were hit me harder. First, the government would likely try to investigate, take her, take me, probably do an ungodly amount of tests to see how we ticked. Never mind how humans reacted, though. If angels existed, so did demons like Pythius and the one in the basement of the fake Azelian cult.

What if evidence of her existence did come about? Would that force all the demons to come out, too? Would it be a war? Would it mean more people would die?

“You would bring about the Swell,” Azazel said suddenly, still looking forward.

“What?” Jo asked.

“Amor is wondering what would happen if knowledge of my existence came about. I’m sure you both were thinking it as some point as well,” she responded, gesturing to Jo and Bond.

“To answer your question, what would happen is you would bring about the Swell.”

“What’s the Swell?” Jo asked.

“If the Swell were to happen, demons and humans alike would be at Amor’s head to either kill her or dissect her, and she is nowhere near capable of protecting herself from any threat that will come your way.”

“Hey,” I protested.

“You did not know that the Fallen Pythius was so close to you, and it almost killed you and your companions,” she said pointedly. Without warning, she stopped walking suddenly and turned to me. She approached me menacingly and grabbed me by the arm and spun me around, holding my arm in a painful grip. An agonized yelp escaped my mouth, my shoulder shot through with pain. “If you cannot even defend against an attack you saw coming, how can you keep yourself alive against creatures that will creep up on you in the dark of night?”

She let me go and forced me to straighten, then she grabbed my wing and I let out a yelp of surprise. She folded it in certain areas and pressed it against my back, and it held in place.

“You cannot even tuck your wing away. As it is right now, I am forced to protect you and keep you safe, and what’s worse is that you are my weakest point,” she scoffed coldly, walking ahead again.

“Oh,” I said sadly, feeling properly dejected.

“How do you think this is on us? On her?” Jo protested.

“What does it matter?” Azazel shot back bluntly.

“What kind of question is that?” Bond snapped.

“I would like to know your logic behind the perceived necessity that I understand the position you all stand in,” she responded, stopping to turn around and look at us.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you understood how we felt? How this is all new to us? I don’t know, maybe help us out? At least sympathize with us,” Bond threw out, exasperated.

“Humoring the idea that it would be beneficial that you had all the information necessary, that does not take into account the skills each of you lack to keep yourselves alive. It does not matter how much you know or do not know. It only matters if you can stay alive long enough to learn and then relay that information.”

“Do you have any of that information then?” Jo asked.

“What is it you want to know?”

“Where did you come from?”

Azazel gave us a pointed look and rolled her eyes. She said, “I am a creation of Heaven. I was created by what you call God.”

“Does it have a face?” Bond asked.

“No. It is merely a presence that you feel.”

“Then how can you know God exists if you’ve never seen it?”

“How do you know the air you breathe exists?” she snapped.

“By the wind I feel on my face,” Jo said under her breath.

“Just as its presence is felt on mine, there is your answer. Do you have any more ridiculous questions?”

“They’re not ridiculous,” Bond said back.

“Can we finish this discussion when we get to the Ninth Branch?” Azazel shot back.

“Can we continue it as we walk?”

“You are insufferable.”

“And you are impatient.”

“When you’ve been bound to this world as long as I have, yes, patience tends to wear thin,” she said, turning her back and continuing to walk.

“Why do you call them the Fallen? Are they not demons?” I asked.

“In the beginning, Omnis created the creatures of this world, both of spirit and of the land—”

“What does that mean?”

“The creatures of the land are the ones you see today. The birds in the trees, the rabbits in the ground, the fish in the water. They were born of this earth, they feed off of this earth, and they will return to this earth. The creatures of spirit, what you call mythological, are the unicorns that roamed the fields, the sirens of the sea, the monsters of great. Most of them were hunted to extinction,” she added with a dark, sad note.

“Unicorns existed?”

“Yes. There were many of them. As many horses as there are today, there were three times as many before, but most of them have died out.”

“How did humanity hunt them all down?”

“Humanity did not hunt them down. After the creatures of spirit were born, there was another Omnis created. They were the first autonomous creatures. They were beautiful and intelligent and dangerously willful and arrogant. They abused the land and the creatures of spirit. The world as you see today is nothing as it was millennia ago when the Fallen ruled the land. They were given a name, but Omnis took it away. After their name was taken, their autonomy was taken.”

“What do you mean, ‘their autonomy’?”

“The Fallen are conditional creatures, now. Though vastly intelligent and powerful, they must still operate within the confines of consent and permission. If one does not will it to be so, the Fallen cannot do anything. Deals must be made. Contracts and promises, most of the time of blood.”

“What about you? What is your kind called?”

“Angels,” she answered simply. “It was the name we were given and the name we keep. As angels, we do not possess the idea of free will, as do the Fallen and humans. We were created for specific purposes, and it is not often we stray from that purpose.”

“Well, what about you?” I asked cautiously. “You’re a Destroyer, right? So you’re the ones ordained to kill the demons and the Fallen, and you’re supposed to protect mankind but—”

“The Destroyers of the Final Trinity are not like the other angels,” she cut in dismissively, and I closed my mouth shut. Her tone was heavy and final. She did not want to talk about Destroyers or being a Destroyer, and I did not want to probe any further, lest she lose her temper with me. We continued on in silence after that. When we finally got to a road, some two hours later, the sun had begun to crack against the horizon. We walked along the road for a couple of minutes before someone pulled up to us.

“Where are you guys heading?” the man asked from the driver’s side. He was driving a modern-looking pickup, and he had a trucker’s hat and a thick, grisly beard. I was very tired by then and very irritable, so I looked to Azazel. She looked at him squarely and said, “We are fine. You do not need to worry about us.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I insist. Y’all look like you’ve had a rough night,” he said, looking over each of us.

I looked over to Azazel, my mind buzzing with exhaustion and slowly seething at her refusal to take the ride. She looked at him a second longer and answered, “Do not worry over us. We will be fine. We are not far from our home.”

“Ya sure? The nearest building isn’t for another couple of miles. Why don’t y’all just hop on in. Don’t worry about it,” he said kindly.

“Sure,” I said quickly before she refuse him again. She shot me a look but said nothing as we climbed into the truck slowly. I sat closest to the man and Azazel was beside me. Jo and Bond sat in the back seat. Azazel’s bloody red triangle shot out to me when I glanced at her face, and I groaned inwardly. There was the slight concern that our wings would be visible, but I was wearing Jo’s jacket still, and Azazel had tucked hers underneath her shirt. Though they were large, they folded perfectly against our bodies, completely hidden.

The man put the truck in drive, but before he could head off, Azazel said, “Our home is behind us.”

“Ah, right,” he said, making a u-turn. I scooted a little closer to Azazel and tried to keep my eyes open. The exhaustion was weighing heavier on me the more the sun rose in the sky.

“So what were you guys doing out there?” the man asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

I looked to Azazel without thinking, and Jo answered, “We were camping.”

“Oh, you guys found a good campground out there? It’s mostly just forest and brush. Better for hunting, really.”

“Yeah, we managed to find a good spot,” Bond said behind me. An awkward silence fell inside the truck again, and the man again tried to make a conversation. “So, uh, where’s all your stuff then, huh?”

“Our what?” I asked, feeling myself grow irritated at his questions.

“Your camping gear. Your stuff? Y’all said you went camping right?”

“Right, uh, we got attacked by some deer. We were in their territory,” Bond put in.

“Huh. Haven’t heard of any deer attack in a while,” the man said, rubbing his beard. I could feel him glancing at us, and he said, “That why you guys look all torn up?”

“Yeah. Deer was pretty angry,” I said gruffly.

I could feel him glancing at Azazel and I, and he asked, “So, uh, you guys twins or something?”

Azazel turned to say something. I could feel the smart retort on her tongue, and I shoved her roughly and said, “Yes. We’re identical. The only way you can tell us apart is our hair.”

“And those tattoos of yours, right?”

“Right, right. These are tattoos.”

“Why’d you get them, if you don’t mind my asking. I like a good tattoo story.”

“Um,” I said, my eyes going wide as I looked out the window.

“We are very eccentric people,” Azazel said coolly. The tone of her voice was decisive and final; the man closed his mouth. The rest of the ride was quiet, and the man would ask every so often, “So, do I just keep going?”

To which, Azazel would respond stonily, “Yes.”

After about forty-five minutes of driving, Azazel finally told the man to pull over, and he glanced up to see more forest, but I could faintly pick up the gravel path leading to the Ninth Branch.

“Here?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, opening the door before he could ask another question.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said hastily. “Sorry about my sister. She’s just cranky.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, a little surprised at our quick escape. “Are you sure this is it?”

“Yep,” I called back, closing the door behind me, and I followed Azazel past the trees to the long path, and surely at the end of it, my car parked beside the drive. There was a peculiar relief that washed over me upon seeing my car was unscathed.

“That was a huge investment for me,” I murmured underneath my breath, trying to justify the concern.

“What?” Jo asked.

“Just super glad my car is safe,” I told her as we approached the old school building. The curtains were drawn now. Without so much as knocking, Azazel pushed open the door, and we followed behind her. The followers were all standing together in the room, chatting quietly and indistinctly. A hush fell over everyone as soon as Azazel walked in. She looked around at each of their faces, studying each person carefully. Without warning, everyone sank to their knees, whispering something along the lines of,

“My Lady had returned.”

“Please, rise. There is no need to kneel before me,” she said kindly, looking at them all.

“Please, are you all safe? Has Pythius come for any of you?”

Slowly, they rose shaking their heads, and she sighed with a relieved smile. “Where is Agatha? Where is Eleanor?”

“They’re in the back, My Lady,” Alana said, moving through the crowd. “Eleanor is okay, but Aggy is still resting.”

“Did she speak of any visions at all?” she asked as we followed her. Before we got too far, she glanced back at Bond and Jo and said, “Tend to them.”

Wordlessly, two followers broke off and gestured for Jo and Bond to follow. I looked back at Azazel, mildly concerned. She said nothing, made no indicators to anything, and as much as I worried about Jo and Bond, I needed to see what was in that vision. I needed to know what she saw, because I had a feeling what she saw was exactly what Pythius was trying to threaten me
with.

The room Agatha was in was deep in school building. The door leading to the room was ornate and beautiful. It was silent in the room. The walls were covered in thick red drapes, and the floor was covered in white chalk and various symbols and designs. There was a single, large book case standing off from the furthest wall. On either wall to the sides, there were tables littered with flasks and glasses filled with colorful liquids and various other instruments. Alana led us straight to the book case and behind it, where a black chaise was snuggled against the wall. Agatha was laying there with a hand thrown over her eyes. Eleanor was holding her other hand, kneeling beside her.

Eleanor looked up, and a look of relief passed over her face. She smiled up at Azazel and said, “My Lady, I’m so glad you are safe.”

“What is this place?” I asked in a low voice to Alana. “This room looks like an alchemist’s lab.”

“It’s the Grand Mod’s office. Agatha does a lot of research on occult practices,” she answered.

“Never mind about me, Eleanor, how are you? How is Agatha doing?” she asked, kneeling down to her.

“She’s doing well because of you, My Lady. She wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t saved her,” Eleanor said gratefully, looking back at Agatha.

“Am I supposed to feel this terrible?” Agatha suddenly moaned, her head rolling back, eyes still closed. There was red mark on her neck from where Pythius had stabbed her. It was completely healed now.

“It is different for everyone. Generally, it will be uncomfortable for the first few days until your body gets used to it, but you will be fine,” Azazel said warmly, rubbing her hand.

“Thank you,” Agatha responded back, not moving her head. “I was definitely about to die.”

Azazel smiled warmly at Agatha, then looked at Eleanor and up at Alana and asked softly, “Can we have the room?”

“Of course, My Lady,” they said simultaneously. Alone together in the room, Azazel turned to Agatha and asked softyly, “Can you tell me what you saw? I do not know what it is Amor forced you to see, or how much of it you saw, but can you tell me what happened?”

Agatha brought her head up to look Azazel in the eye, and she said, “They’re doing something nefarious.”

Azazel’s eyebrows knit together, and she asked, “What do you mean?”

Agatha closed her eyes, rubbed the bridge of her nose and answered, “It’s a little fuzzy still, but it was just madness. I saw the triplets. I don’t know where they are, but I know they’re trapped, and the Fallen are trying to corrupt them. They’ve already gotten Aion, and they’re close to getting Sol.”

“Corrupt? No, no, they cannot corrupt an angel. They can kill, they can maim, they can hurt, but they cannot corrupt an angel, not of the Final Trinity,” Azazel responded, starkly disbelieving.

Agatha said nothing for a moment, allowing the seriousness of the situation to settle. Azazel looked off, and a sort of mourning passed over Agatha’s face. Azazel looked away, an identical stab shooting through my chest, and Agatha said, “They’ve already done it. I don’t know how they did it, but they did.”

“Selin? What about Selin?” Azazel asked desperately. I watched her carefully as Agatha tried to piece together the visions she saw.

“Selin shut down. He retreated into himself to keep from being corrupted.”

“So he’s hibernating,” she sighed, her face dropping. In a small voice, she asked, “Are they in pain?”

Agatha made a face and said, “Selin is. Now that they have Aion, they’re using her against Sol to corrupt him. He’s trying to resist them, but he’s struggling. That’s his sister.”

“Yes, yes, as she is mine. I was there when they were created,” she said sadly. There was another pang in my chest, and I got a quick flashback of three winged people stepping out of the arch in Azazel’s memories. “And you have no idea where they are?”

“No,” Agatha responded, dropping her head dejectedly. Azazel put her head against Agatha’s hand and asked, “What else did you see? What are they trying to do?”

“I saw . . .” she started, squinting her eyes, “There was a lot of chaos. There was a lot of screaming, and the demons came up. There was a huge black dragon that came up from the ground, and there was giant snake in the oceans. We tried to fight them, but so many people just kept dying. They killed a baby. There was something about this kid. I don’t know what it was, but they killed it, and then . . . and then–”

“The angels came,” Azazel finished, lifting her head. She wasn’t looking at Agatha then. She wasn’t looking at anything, really. I could feel her heart sinking in her chest, and that cold realization filled her veins with ice.

“Yes, the angels came. Azrael and Abaddon were the first and then I can’t remember much after that,” Agatha finished, looking up at the ceiling. A heavy silence followed Agatha’s words. In my own head, I was trying to understand all of what was happening, or how any of it could be happening, or what they were completely talking about. I had just enough information to put together a vague picture of what was happening, but I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

Glancing at Agatha, she was pale and her green eyes looked dark and tired. There was something off about the look in her eyes, though. She didn’t understand the details of vision she had seen, but she knew the danger that was coming. The dark circles beneath her eyes had an unworldly gray tint to them, and I wondered briefly if she’d actually died. One step forward, two steps back. I had some of the answers, but all they did was beg more questions. I resisted the urge to let out a frustrated groan.

“So, that is what they are doing,” Azazel said, sitting back and leaning gently against the bookshelf. She looked over to me and said, “We have to stop this.”

“Stop what?” I asked, looking between Agatha and her.

“The Swell. The Fallen are attempting to bring about the Swell,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

“Why would they want to do that?”

“It is a last resort to reclaim the Promise Land. It is all or nothing in the battle of the Swell, of which only one comes out.”

“What do you mean?”

“In the Swell, only of your god’s creations will survive. It will either be the humans, the angels, or the Fallen.”