• • •

She awoke lying on her stomach in a candlelit room, on a bed of soft white linens.

Audric slept in a chair beside her, his hand holding hers, and Rielle herself lay with her head on a pillow in Ludivine’s lap.

Ludivine combed her fingers through Rielle’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

Remembering everything that had happened, Rielle set her jaw against a rising tide of shame. Her head pounded; her body felt beaten by a thousand angry fists.

She glared at the aged wooden floor. “Don’t you know?”

Ludivine’s finger caught on a tangle, which made Rielle wince. “I do, but I would like to hear you say it.”

“Fine. I feel like shit.”

Ludivine said primly, “I expect that you do.”

“Leave off, Lu,” murmured Audric. “She’s been through enough.”

At the sound of Audric’s voice, Rielle turned toward him and squeezed his hand. “Are you angry with me?”

He brought her fingers to his lips. “Yes. But more than that, I’m glad you’re all right. And I understand why you did it.”

Then she remembered. Panic punched her upright. “Atheria. Where is she?”

Audric hesitated. “She is not wounded, at least not that we could see, but she flew away shortly after the Gate threw you and hasn’t been sighted since.”

“I was mad,” Rielle whispered, tears sewing her throat shut, fists clenched against her thighs. “I lost my head. If she doesn’t return, it’s what I deserve.”

“Please don’t worry. She’ll come back to you. Just give her time.” He bent to kiss her, and Rielle cupped his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his, devouring the sight of his steady dark gaze, so close to her own.

“I just wanted to help,” she said.

“I know,” he replied softly.

And you wanted to show off, Corien pointed out, sounding sulky.

And you urged me on, she shot back, even knowing that it would hurt me.

He paused. I didn’t know it would hurt you that badly.

Audric would never do such a thing to me.

No, I don’t suppose he would, Corien replied, his voice curling. Not yet, anyway.

Rielle ignored him, preparing to apologize once more—but before she could, Jodoc burst in, accompanied by four Obex in plain gray robes. Beyond them, Ilmaire and Ingrid and three of their own guard stood at the ready.

Jodoc began speaking without preamble. “In the twenty-four hours that have passed since your foolish and perhaps disastrous attempt to repair the Gate—”

“Twenty-four hours?” Rielle glanced at Audric. “It’s been that long?”

“In those twenty-four hours,” Jodoc continued sharply, “I have already received a dozen reports from Obex around the world.”

He glanced at the stack of thin papers in his hands. “An earthquake in Astavar. A typhoon in the Vespers, which has destroyed six fishing villages on the eastern coast of the main island. A blizzard in the Mazabat city of Zamar—a tropical city, mind you—which has completely incapacitated the Ferej Canal, an important shipping route for that part of the continent. A tidal wave, even more enormous than the one you recently encountered, off the coast of Vindica—which is largely uninhabited, thank God. And in your own country, in the coastal city of Luxitaine, a flock of birds, thousands strong, dropped dead from the skies, killing several and terrorizing many.”

Audric closed his eyes and looked away.

Jodoc folded up the papers and placed them in his coat pocket. “And these, Lady Rielle, are only the events we know about.”

Rielle sat in silence as he spoke, ignoring the temptation to lower her eyes in shame. Instead, she met Jodoc’s flat gaze. “How could you know about such things so quickly?”

They have marques in their employ, Ludivine answered at once. They have offered them asylum from their governments in exchange for their service.

Jodoc raised an eyebrow. “That’s the question you would ask of me right now?”

“It’s a fair question,” said Ilmaire. “How are we to know you aren’t falsifying these reports?”

“And why would I do such a thing?”

“To frighten us into doing whatever you demand?” Ingrid snapped.

“Or to shame Lady Rielle?” Ilmaire added.

“She should feel shame, and you should feel frightened.” Jodoc faced Rielle. “What you have done has exacerbated the problem that already existed. The elemental scholars in our order, who have spent lifetimes studying the empirium, have now counted an additional thirty-three fractures in the Gate. The catastrophic effects of its accelerated collapse cannot be overstated and will touch all of Avitas.”

Ludivine’s grip on Rielle’s hand tightened.

“Have any additional angels emerged in the past day?” Rielle managed, after she had found her voice.

Ludivine shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

The look Jodoc threw at her was one of utter disdain. “But they certainly will. And we are equipped to fight them, for now. But our blightblade stores are not limitless and cannot be replenished. And when the Gate falls at last and all the angels return, our meager weapons will mean nothing.”

Ludivine fiddled with the end of her left sleeve, beneath which the blightblade scar glistened.

Ilmaire regarded Jodoc thoughtfully. “You said blightblades are forged using the blood of beasts called cruciata, and that cruciata come from the Deep. How did you obtain this blood?”

“A single cruciata escaped through the weakening Gate many years ago,” Jodoc replied. “We were able to subdue it, at the cost of many lives, and conducted experiments with its remains, which yielded us the first blightblade. We have access to only this one corpse, and when our supply of its blood is depleted, we will have no means of forging additional blightblades.” He paused, looking grim. “At least, not until the Gate truly collapses, and everything contained in the Deep comes pouring out.”

Into the ringing silence that followed Jodoc’s words, Audric spoke. “For how long can a blightblade contain an angel?”

“It depends on the strength of the blade,” Jodoc answered. “Some for only minutes; some for years.”

Audric began to pace. “So the question remains: How do we repair the Gate?”

“There is no way to repair the Gate. The kind of magic the saints possessed, the sheer power they used to create it, no longer exists in this world. The empirium is fading, and has been for years.” Jodoc glanced at Illumenor, now sheathed at Audric’s waist. “The kind of power you possess, Your Highness, is an anomaly now, as you well know. And even that is not enough to repair the Gate.” He glanced at Rielle. “Nor is the Sun Queen’s power, apparently.”