Feeling naked without them, but aware she couldn't risk betraying her one small advantage, she hid the blades deep under the mattress, slid her feet into the black silk slippers that had come with the outfit, and opened the bedroom door. Her waiting escort was a female vampire this time, the other woman's skin creamy as fresh milk and her cheekbones wide and flat below eyes of dark hazel, her uniform the familiar formal black worn by the citadel's household attendants.
The trip to the throne room passed in silence.
On arrival, Andromeda discovered Lijuan speaking to Xi. She walked to the edge of the steps and waited politely for the two to finish. With an archangel as traditional as Lijuan, simple good manners might be enough to save her life at some point. No need to waste that chance when it cost her nothing.
It wasn't till a minute later that Lijuan looked at her, her face normal enough for the moment, though anger had darkened her expression. "Before you tell me your decision, scholar, I have a small matter with which I must deal."
Relieved at the reprieve, Andromeda stepped aside and away from the throne. An angel with wings of dirty cream was dragged into the room soon afterward. Dressed in the colorful silks of the courtiers, his broad face was pale, his brown eyes beseeching. "My Lady." Tears ran down his cheeks, his breath hiccupping. "I meant no betrayal."
"Yet you were feeding Michaela information about my court." Ice hung off each word.
Andromeda's chest squeezed at what was surely to come.
Prostrating himself at the foot of the stairs, the angel sobbed. "I was seduced by her beauty, my Lady. I was weak and she took advantage."
"You are a fool." Lijuan was pure regal goddess in that moment. "But I will be merciful because Michaela has a way of bewitching men. You will be permitted to live."
The angel began to blubber his thanks, but Andromeda, her gut twisting, knew he was speaking too soon. She'd seen the wooden frame that had been brought out of the shadows behind him. Two minutes later, the wild-eyed courtier was manacled to that frame in a spread-eagle position. He was still wearing his clothes, but they were slowly, methodically cut off him by the blond guard until he was totally naked.
Then the frame was turned horizontal by four guards, one on each corner, leaving the angel being punished facing the floor.
"Come," Xi said to Andromeda as the guards began to move the frame out of the throne room. "My lady believes you may find this edifying."
Bile burning her throat, Andromeda walked out with Lijuan's favored general. The guards took the frame to the courtyard and placed it on four posts that seemed to have been erected in the center of the open space for exactly this purpose. The angel now faced the cobblestones, held up about a foot from it, his spread-eagled body exposed to the air and to the pitying gaze of others.
Walking over to the sobbing angel, one of Xi's men began to slice him, the cuts relatively minor. Andromeda's stomach stopped lurching as she took her first real breath since the angel had been brought into the throne room. If this was his punishment for such a deep betrayal, he'd gotten off with nothing more than a rap over the knuckles in immortal terms. She hoped he understood the depth of his luck.
Perhaps he was a favorite of Lijuan's.
Then the guard with the blade backed off, and Andromeda heard the barking. "No," she whispered, stepping instinctively toward the helpless angel.
Xi caught her wrist in an unbreakable grip without taking his eyes from the brutal scene about to play out. "Do not intervene or the hounds will tear you to shreds."
Two seconds later, the first hound appeared. Drawn to the blood, the sleek black animal licked at the sobbing angel . . . and then it bit. The angel screamed. Andromeda closed her eyes but she couldn't close her ears to the horrific sounds. She forced her eyes open a heartbeat later. She would escape this place and when she did, she would record this horror.
Of course, the vast majority of angelkind would find nothing wrong with the punishment. Being immortal wasn't always a good thing. It meant the ones meting out the sentence had had centuries to think of suitable punishments . . . and that to fit the crime, sometimes that punishment was brutal. There was no point lashing an older angel when the wounds would heal within days.
Even Raphael, an archangel not known for cruelty, had once broken every bone in a treasonous vampire's body. The unfortunate vampire, his body hanging together by stringy tendons and shattered bone that stabbed through his skin, had been left on display in Times Square for three hours.
To betray an archangel was to make a mistake that could never be undone.
The angel who'd made that mistake in Lijuan's court was covered in bites within minutes, his skin streaming liquid red. He was also missing pieces. The frenzy continued until his screams of terror and pain eventually died down to whimpers, then to silence. That didn't mean he was dead--Lijuan had given him her word that he'd live, and so he'd live.
Feathers flew into the air as the hounds began to rip at his wings for what appeared to be the fun of it, having already feasted on the flesh that had been their first target.
"How long?" she asked, her voice a rasp. "How long will his punishment last?"
"Until my goddess wills otherwise." Xi finally released her wrist. "You know his crime deserved no less. Why are you shocked?"
Andromeda swallowed. "It has been centuries since I witnessed such a punishment." Hundreds of years since she'd run from the terror-soaked home where she'd been born.
"Yes, you are a scholar," Xi said, as if that explained everything. "Come."
As they turned to reenter the citadel, Andromeda tried to temper her visceral response to what she'd seen, but she knew she was pale, her skin cold as frost. Not that Lijuan could be surprised by that. Fear, slick and choking, had been the archangel's intention when she made sure Andromeda witnessed the punishment. A thin scream rose into the air at that instant, as if the angel had found a final dreg of strength.
Andromeda's hands clenched. "He'll go mad," she said to Xi.
"An unavoidable side effect." The general stopped without warning. His eyes were unblinking when they met hers. "Any one of the Cadre would have meted out a punishment as severe for such betrayal. Heng was a trusted member of the inner court."
Thinking once again of the vampire in Times Square, Andromeda was forced to nod. And Raphael wasn't the only other archangel who'd delivered pitiless justice. Astaad had once staked a duplicitous angel in a pit filled with poisonous beetles whose bite caused flesh to necrotize, and left him there for an entire month. As for Michaela, she'd ordered every part of an angel flayed off piece by piece, including his eyelids . . . and by the time the task was done, the angel had started regenerating enough that the cycle could continue.
A shiver crawled up Andromeda's spine.
"I take your point," she said to Xi through teeth that wanted to chatter. "Our world is a harsh one."
Xi started walking again. "Immortality equals arrogance for many."
Andromeda wondered that he didn't see the irony of his own statement. Lijuan was unquestionably the most arrogant of all the archangels. She believed herself a goddess and perhaps she was: a goddess should be able to give life, and Lijuan had created a whole new entity.
Simply because the reborn were ugly mockeries of life didn't change the fact that Lijuan had the ability to alter the very nature of mortals and immortals both.
This time when Andromeda entered the throne room, the guards closed the doors behind her, cutting off all evidence of the outside world. Watching Andromeda and Xi walk toward her, Lijuan glanced at Xi, clearly speaking to him as an archangel could with those she chose.
Whatever his report, it seemed to satisfy the Archangel of China.
Andromeda had braced herself for Lijuan's attention, but the touch of those bloody eyes still caused her primitive, survival-driven hindbrain to attempt to take over.
"Now, scholar," Lijuan said. "You've had a night to sleep on your decision. Will you share your knowledge of Alexander?
"
Unspoken was the silent threat that if she didn't, she'd suffer a fate similar to that of the unfortunate angel in the courtyard. "My Lady," she said, "it is difficult for me to break my vows when it comes to those who Sleep, but I believe you are right. The Sleeping ones need to wake to help steady the world."
"Tell us," Lijuan said.
Cold perspiration threatening to break out over her skin, Andromeda lowered her gaze, as if in deference. "All my research suggests that he would trust his Sleep to Titus." The friendship between the Ancient and an angel who had once been a child in Alexander's court was legendary.
Lijuan's eyes grew sharp. "Yes."
Andromeda pushed on. "The difficulty is in pinpointing the exact location." Titus controlled the sprawling landscape of southern Africa, the line that separated his lands from Charisemnon's cutting the continent in half. "However, after reading through all known records of their friendship, I believe he must lie beneath or within Mount Kilimanjaro."
Lijuan smiled right as her face took on that impossible, haunting beauty. And for a moment, she was piercingly young. "I remember the stories of what those two did on Kilimanjaro's peaks." Her laughter was light, carefree. "A young and headstrong Titus once challenged Alexander to a climbing contest and beat him. At which point, they challenged one another to climb down in the dark."
Andromeda was astonished at the warmth in Lijuan's tone. It was as if she was a different woman. And the history that was her memory . . . Andromeda would've been no kind of historian if she hadn't been drawn by it. "Did you know Titus as a youth, my Lady?"
"Yes. Always obstinate that one, but with such a huge heart that none could hold a grudge against him." Smile fading, youth fading, Lijuan herself faded and came back into focus in a way that seemed more . . . blurry than before. "I can see Alexander choosing to Sleep under the mountain he well loved, in the lands of a friend he trusted."
"Alexander was known for his attachment to his people," Xi said into the whispering quiet that had fallen. "And he left behind a son who even now resides in his palace."
"Rohan was an overconfident infant." Lijuan's features turned skeletal, the maggots crawling in her eye sockets making Andromeda's stomach turn. "Instead of alerting the Cadre after Alexander chose to Sleep, he attempted to hold his father's territory, almost caused a vampiric bloodbath."
"Regardless," Xi said, "he was deeply trusted by his father."
Lijuan gave a small nod. "Scholar, what say you on this?"
Biting her lip and hoping her voice wouldn't break and betray her, Andromeda shook her head. "I considered Alexander's attachment to his people and to his son," she said, "but as you yourself noted, he was a great tactician. I do not think he would make such an obvious choice."
"Emotions can blind," Lijuan said, before glancing at Xi. "However, it could also be said that Alexander would not place his son in danger by going to Sleep below his palace."
Xi inclined his head in acceptance of the point before saying, "It could also be a double-bluff." He glanced at Andromeda. "Friendship alone isn't why you believe it's Kilimanjaro."
"No." Andromeda told them of the scrolls she'd read, the stories she'd found in the Archives, even requested a piece of paper and mapped out Alexander's possible location on the mountain. "A bare year before his disappearance, Alexander was seen on this exact spot by another angel, and yet it was later discovered that Titus knew nothing of the visit." Andromeda had been so excited when she'd discovered that piece of what had then been an intellectual mystery.
"I follow you," Xi said, examining her hand-drawn map. "No archangel would cross over into another's territory without permission unless the need was critical. And to not tell his friend, it suggests an attempt to protect Titus from the weight of the knowledge."
Andromeda's pulse pounded. "Yes, exactly."
"Head to Kilimanjaro," Lijuan ordered Xi. "I will decide our next course of action once you either find Alexander, or clear the region." Blood-drenched eyes held Andromeda's again. "While Xi is gone, you will write down every other possibility, no matter how small."
Only one answer was safe. "Yes, Lady Lijuan."
"I will send advance scouts today, make preparations to leave on the next dawn." Xi's wings caught the golden lamplight as he resettled them in what Andromeda knew wasn't a restless move but that of a warrior who wanted to ensure his wings didn't cramp. "We must take extreme care. Titus has ramped up his security since the rise in hostilities with Charisemnon."
The general glanced at Andromeda, the intensity of his gaze a glistening black blade. "You are certain Kilimanjaro heads your list?"
You have secrets. You wear another skin, too.
Andromeda clung to the memory of Naasir's words, to the skin of an intimidated and scared scholar that was her shield. "Yes."
Lijuan leaned back on her throne, her body translucent. "Remember this, scholar." Words that echoed with so many screams, Andromeda's eardrums threatened to bleed. "If I find you have lied to me, Heng's punishment among the hounds will appear as nothing."
Andromeda bowed her head. "Lady, you must understand I can offer no certainties." No one could. "I am but an apprentice."
No answer, and when she looked up, Lijuan was gone. As if she'd turned into her noncorporeal form. Even as Andromeda's breath caught at this evidence of Lijuan's "evolution," she wondered if the choice to become noncorporeal had been a conscious one. It seemed to her that Lijuan had simply been too tired to hold the physical manifestation of her form.
"I hope for your sake that you do not lie." Xi's voice was a scalpel.
"I would be a fool to lie." She was proud her voice didn't tremble. "There is nowhere I can go to escape punishment."
13
Naasir entered citadel territory after nightfall.
Jason's spies in the villages that lay directly below the flight paths to that citadel had confirmed that Xi and his squadron had flown in at dawn the previous day. They'd been carrying an unknown burden in a sling.
Andromeda.
A growl built in his throat at the idea of Andromeda trapped and treated like prey.
But his anger turned into a teeth-baring smile the next second. Because Andromeda wasn't prey. However, she was smart enough to fool Xi and Lijuan into believing such, so that she'd be left alone to think up an escape. Gritting his teeth at the realization she might try it before he was there to help watch her back, he continued to lope through forests in the shadow of mountains, just another shadow among shadows.
The sky hung low and sullen above him.
It was in the last patch of forest before the grasslands that Jason had told him surrounded the citadel that he caught the ugly, rotting scent that denoted the presence of the reborn. He hissed out a breath. The world believed Lijuan's infectious creations erased from the earth, but clearly, she'd managed to save this nest. To survive, the reborn must've been allowed to feed on mortal or immortal flesh--or had been fed.
Naasir wanted to kill each and every one, but Andromeda was waiting for him.
An angry, rumbling sound vibrating in his chest, he avoided the creatures--not difficult given their stench to his sensitive sense of smell--and made his way to the grasslands. Those grasslands were a good precaution by Lijuan's generals, ensuring a direct line of sight for the sentries.
Too bad the grasses had been allowed to grow to knee-high. That was plenty long enough to hide Naasir's form, such grasses an environment which part of his nature knew how to utilize instinctively. He reached the outer wall of the citadel without being spotted. From there, it wasn't difficult to avoid the vampiric guards, but it did take precise timing to make sure he remained unseen by the winged squadron.
He could smell rain on the winds. That could be an asset or it might be a threat. It would depend on the skills of the woman with secrets who smelled like his mate. The heavy cloud cover was an undisputed gift, hiding as it did the light of the moon. Naasir could use the moon's light to his advantage, his body a rip
pling ghost, but Andromeda's lickable, honeyed skin would've been spotlighted by it.
Prowling along the edges of the wall, he watched the guards, listened to their conversations, and when one of them went to answer the call of nature just as the sentry in the sky angled off in another direction, he slipped over the wall right under their noses.
Cunning and stealthy and unseen.
Reminding himself of Jason's words, he spilled no blood and left no trace of his presence as he went over the second wall and jumped down into the inner courtyard. He landed in an easy crouch on the cobblestones, his bare feet absorbing the impact through his entire body without giving him a hard jolt.
Slightly spoiled meat and blood and the ugly miasma of fear.
A predator at home in the moonless night, he made his way toward the tainted meat that must've been lying in the sun for hours. It was alive, he realized as he got closer. Alive and marked by the scents of multiple dogs. Feathers told him the meat had been an angel before being fed to the dogs. It was now in pieces, though the head remained attached to the gleaming, exposed spinal cord.
Either exhausted or simply weak, the meat was motionless but for a closed eyelid that flickered in a rapid pattern--as if the angel was dreaming. His other eye socket was a gaping hole clotted with viscous fluid that had either dried in the sun, or was a result of his body attempting to regenerate itself.
Brutality didn't interest Naasir; he'd seen more than one pitiless punishment over the centuries and he wasn't going to judge this one without having the details. What did interest him was the scent that lingered around the man.
Andromeda.
She'd been here recently. Why?
He looked at the meat again and had the thought that maybe the woman who smelled like his mate might have a soft heart. From the position of her scent, he could tell she'd stood or sat close by the head, possibly in an effort to provide what comfort she could.
Deciding he liked the idea of a mate who had a soft heart, he tracked her scent into the citadel. Seeing an angelic courtier up ahead, he jumped up to the ceiling and held himself there using his claws to hook into the ridged detail. He dropped down as soon as the courtier was out of earshot and continued to track the delicious, unique scent of his warrior-scholar.