“Protect us from what?” Audric asked, his voice fraying. “You’re dancing around the point. Speak clearly—and quickly.”

Ludivine breathed in and out, clenching her fists. When she spoke once more, it was with a sense of tired finality. “The Gate is falling.”

The room fell into silence.

“The further it weakens,” Ludivine said after a moment, “the more we will see the shocks. Tidal waves, terrible quakes, other disasters I cannot predict. And when the Gate falls at last, the angels will return, just as Aryava said. Imagine a door being battered constantly from one side by hands that will never tire. That is the Gate, and the hands are those of my kindred, locked beyond it.”

“Trapped in the Deep.” Audric sat unsteadily on a chair by the wall, far from them both.

“Yes. In the Deep.” A small, strange shadow moved across Ludivine’s face; an echo of it rippled inside Rielle’s mind, like a shift during sleep.

“How many of you are there?” he asked.

“Millions.”

“I meant here. In this world. If you came here, then others must have as well.”

Rielle stiffened. Without thinking, her mind reached out to him:

Corien? Are you there?

He did not answer. He had been silent since the day she burned him.

Ludivine looked quickly to Rielle. “Yes. I was not the first. And I was not the last. With every passing day, cracks widen in the Gate’s structure. Not all angels are strong enough to escape. The Gate is strong and well-made. Escaping its gravity is difficult; one crack opens, and another one repairs itself. But enough angels are managing to break through that it will soon be a problem for you. Dozens right now. Soon? Hundreds.”

“You weren’t the first.” Rielle lifted her eyes slowly to Ludivine. “Who was?”

“He is very strong,” said Ludivine quietly. “The strongest of us left alive since the Angelic Wars. It took him centuries to escape, but he did it. I slipped out in his wake, along with a few others, before the Gate resealed. I’ve watched over Rielle, in one form or another, for thirteen years, as did he. His name is Corien.”

Thirteen years. Since I was five years old, Rielle thought. A field of flames flashed before her eyes. A crumbling house. Her father, falling to his knees.

She decided she would go see him after this conversation. She would wake him up, bring him hot cocoa, keep him talking until the sun rose and she no longer felt so afraid.

Then her mind caught up with the truth: his bed would be empty.

“The day your mother died, Rielle,” Ludivine said, pity in her voice, “we felt your power erupt. Corien came for you soon after, and I did as well. Only…I am quite young. My mind is nothing compared to his. It takes nearly everything I am to protect you from even some of his thoughts.”

“And why do you?” Rielle bristled at the careful compassion in Ludivine’s voice. “Why do you want to help me or any of us? Don’t you want revenge for being trapped in the Deep for centuries?”

“No,” Ludivine said simply. “Humans and angels were at war. I don’t blame you for the actions your ancestors took to save themselves. You are innocent.”

Ludivine reached for Rielle, but Rielle flinched away, and Ludivine withdrew at once.

“Corien, however, desires revenge above all else,” Ludivine said quietly, “and it isn’t fair that you should suffer for it. I will do what I can to stop him because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Really?” Rielle raised an eyebrow, determined to remain unmoved at the sight of Ludivine’s tear-filled eyes. “How noble of you.”

Ludivine’s expression crumpled. “My dear, I’m sorry I’m not a stronger ally. I know it is difficult for you. I feel it every time he speaks to you.”

“Corien—the angel from the attack?” Audric looked first to Ludivine, and then to Rielle. “What does she mean, Rielle? He speaks to you?”

Rielle’s panic rose swiftly. He will be furious when he finds out.

No, he won’t, came Ludivine’s firm reply. He loves you.

But for how long?

Forever. He will love you forever.

“Months ago,” Rielle began, her voice unsteady, “on the day of the Chase, I heard a voice in my mind.”

Don’t tell him everything, Ludivine suggested. Spare him the worst of it.

The worst of it: That dark vastness, the throne made of bones. Corien’s name on her lips as she awoke lonely in her bed, and the ghost of his hands on her skin.

Rielle swallowed, shame burning tears from her eyes. “He visits me in dreams—and sometimes when I’m awake. He talked to me during the trials. He tells me…”

Go on, Ludivine urged gently.

Rielle touched her temples, swallowing hard.

Audric knelt before her. “What does he tell you? How can I help?”

She met Audric’s steady dark eyes through a haze of tears. “He wants me,” she whispered. “I don’t know what for. He wants me to go to him. He says he won’t always be so patient. He tried to make me leave with him, the day of the fire trial. I wouldn’t. I burned him, but…I can’t say if that will stop him.”

“It won’t,” Ludivine said, “but he won’t recover from that for some time.”

Rielle threw her a dark look. “So you say.”

Ludivine looked as though she’d been slapped. “You don’t trust me anymore.”

“I should think that much would be obvious by now. And anyway, can you blame me for that?”

“I understand. I’ll have to earn back your trust.” Ludivine nodded, pressed her lips tightly together. “I can do that. I will do that.”

“My God.” Audric’s worried expression tore Rielle’s heart in two. “Rielle…why didn’t you ever say anything about any of this?”

“I was frightened. I didn’t know what you’d think of me.”

He cradled her face in his hands, catching her tears on his thumbs. “I could have helped you.”

“I hate him,” she whispered, and it was true. But it was not the whole truth, and she despised herself for it. “And I don’t know how to be rid of him.”

“We will find a way,” Ludivine said, coming to sit beside her.

“Have you been in her mind as well?” Audric asked sharply. “Like him?”

Ludivine met his eyes. “Yes. For three years now, though I have been near her for much longer.”