"David!"
The urgent call from Orion brought him back, and he pulled both his daggers in time to meet a frontal assault of Dark Ones who'd managed to rush the archers, break the line and swoop down upon the ledge.
A quick glance told him the Dark Ones were losing all over the field, dropping out of the sky, fleeing, being incinerated in the air. But apparently they'd decided the one objective still within their grasp was killing the Dark Spawn who had fought against them.
David sent out the call, and Jonah and his front line responded personally, diving into their ranks to even out the odds. Even so, it was bitter hand-to-hand fighting, the kind where David lost sense of time and space. There was only the next Dark One before him, sometimes two, the flutter of lost feathers from an angel who'd had a narrow miss, the shower of dark blood as a Dark One was vanquished. The give of the body as he plunged his daggers in and yanked them out before his hand could get sucked into the dark abyss of poison that existed inside the bodies.
At one point, he was surrounded, going down among four of them, because he was the one closest to her. They pressed in upon him so hard he somehow felt their intent. They were going to tear her to pieces. No, they would take her back, torture her for eons . . . make her suffer in their dark world, where she would survive in a half life . . .
No. They wouldn't. He'd failed to protect Anna. He wouldn't fail Jonah again. Or Mina.
"David. David." Jonah's sharp, authoritative bark brought him back.
He was slashing at air. Or, more correctly, at Jonah and Orion's faces, as they grabbed at his arms, hauled him back to his feet, held him while he swayed and got his bearings, blinked at the bodies lying around him.
"Most are yours," Orion observed dryly, his lips curving. "But the commander and I pulled a couple off of you before they could skin you alive."
David nodded, getting his breath back. Jonah's shrewd gaze was assessing him from head to toe, making sure he hadn't sustained any wounds. It was the first time he'd had more than a moment with his commander, and now everything about the past few moments disappeared for David. Jonah was assessing him for injury, when David could see the grief in his commander's eyes, waiting like a sword for him to fall upon when this day's battle was won.
"I'm sorry," David said. "My lord, I'm so sorry."
He always called him Jonah. Command hierarchy was understood among angels as necessity, but personally they were all on equal footing. But in this moment, the title felt necessary. Plus, David didn't think he could say his name without his voice breaking.
He dropped to one knee, startling Orion, he could tell, but he bowed his head, his daggers still clutched in his fists. "I wish I could have done better for you."
Jonah's hands were on his shoulders immediately, pulling him up. "Up with you, you young idiot." His voice was gruff. Cupping David's face, he turned it so he could see the bruises, tightening his hold and making a noise in his throat when David would have pulled away. "Look at me."
When David was able to obey the command, Jonah met his gaze squarely. "Victory isn't always in winning," he said. "Anna knew that."
As his commander said her name, David saw it in Jonah's eyes, behind the impassive battle expression. Saw the pain waiting to take him with the same fierce inevitability as the fire he'd unleashed on the Dark Ones.
"Jonah--"
Jonah shook his head. "Damn you and those basset hound eyes of yours. She never expected to live long. She told me . . . daughters of Arianne don't live past twenty-one . . ."
His voice broke, such a startling thing that the angels around them looked as if a new army of Dark Ones had appeared to face them, and maybe they would have preferred that. Jonah pulled it back in with a visible effort and a muttered oath, clapped David hard on the shoulder. "Never mind. Now's not the time anyway."
"Anna has lived under the shadow of an early death all her life. She never feared death."
Jonah and David's attention turned as one to Mina, who still had her back resting against the wall next to the trickle of water. She had her shoulder beneath it. At their sudden regard, she looked as if she'd regretted her words. Nevertheless, her jaw tightened.
"The night I called Lucifer and David to your aid, it was because I felt her fear. I knew it was Jonah who was in direct danger, because her terror was greater than it would have been for herself."
Jonah took a step forward as Mina continued in that same quiet voice, her features strained with the effort. She focused on some portion of the air over their shoulders, as if she couldn't bear looking at any of them. David turned suddenly and picked up the cloak she'd left behind as a dragon, which he'd had no time to bring to her before now. When she reached out her hand to take it, instead he spread it over her himself, saving her the effort. Blinking at him, she looked as if she might snap at him for doing what she could do for herself, but then she pressed her lips together and shifted her gaze to Jonah.
"She was completely selfless, keeping nothing for herself, though I'd never seen her want something as much as she wanted you." She worked the cowl up on her head, disguised her features in her normal way, and her voice strengthened. "She said she wanted to die with a heart full of hope, and she did."
That powerful grief suffused Jonah's features, and then it was gone, pushed away somewhere none of them could see, but David could feel it vibrating from him.
"She had another form, didn't she?" Jonah asked it thickly. "She never told me, but she mentioned it."
Mina flinched as though he'd hit her. David squatted at her side. He didn't touch her, though she leaned away from him as if she expected him to do so. He wondered if all the fire in Lucifer's Underworld could warm the cold desolation he saw in her face.
"It was a phoenix," she said at last. Before the hope could flare too brightly in Jonah's eyes, she added. "But it won't help. The ash, what she did there at the end. She gave her last energy to me, the energy that would help her rise again."
"Talk about a wasted effort." Orion's murmur couldn't help but carry. David tightened his jaw, but nothing flickered in Mina's dark eyes. Maybe she hadn't heard it. But Jonah apparently had.
"She lived her life fully," the Prime Legion Commander said, casting Orion a quelling glance before shifting his attention back to Mina. "Anna would want to give you the chance of embracing the same gift. I hope you don't squander it. Only then would I find it in me to despise you."
He looked then at the small remaining pile of ash Mina had carefully scraped together from what was within her reach. "We'll take those in the sky and scatter them over the ocean when we're done here today. Mina can show us the best place. We need to take her home."
He paused, looking back at Mina for a long moment. In his face, David saw a compassion there that surprised the other angels, who looked like being on this ledge close to the Dark Spawn was about ten miles closer than they wanted to be. "When a being dies," Jonah said, "a type of angel called the Gatekeeper comes to lead the soul to the spiritual realm. They don't speak to us, but I felt her Gatekeeper come for her, Mina. She is safe, and at peace. I hope that comforts you."
With that, he returned to the sky, taking most of the angels on the ledge with him, leaving just David and several of his men. He saw Mina's gaze lift, following Jonah's trail through the sky, and heard her murmur, "Will that be enough to comfort you?"
David leaned in closer. "Mina . . ."
She turned with visible effort to look at him. As she did, David unexpectedly recalled her bravery in approaching the line of Dark Ones. The fierce way they'd come after her, when they knew the larger battle was lost, their burning red eyes and bared fangs focused on the young witch. Just remembering it made him check that his daggers were still close at hand.
It occurred to him that today was not the end of it for Mina. Whether she liked it or not, someone would have the thankless task of keeping a close eye on her. The Dark Ones did not forget what they would perceive as treachery from one of their own.
r /> He didn't bring that up now, however, sure she would not take the news well. Plus he could tell she was somewhere far away from this place.
"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly, surprised when she answered.
"Anna was right. He is the leader she said he was. When he went into battle, even I felt the energy that pours out of him. But as a man, he is grieving sorely. It . . . I hope she's somewhere where she can know how much he loved her."
Twenty-six
THERE was work to repair the rift, as always, and it was a large one, such that a new nebula existed around the star when it was done. As they hovered in the dark vastness of space, bathed in the new star's bright light, Lucifer glanced toward Jonah. "I think this one should be named for you."
It was an honor often accorded to one of the soldiers who'd shown particular valor during a battle. It was not the first time Jonah had been offered the honor, but it was well-known he'd never accepted it. Nor did he feel that inclination this time. He was tired, just ready to be done.
"Arianne's Hope," he said shortly. Lucifer nodded.
Despite his weariness, Jonah looked around at his captains. While he didn't allow his usually commanding mien to change, he made sure he met each angel's gaze before he said his next words.
"I ask your forgiveness," he said. "For losing faith. It won't happen again."
"You will see her again, Jonah."
Jonah looked toward Lucifer. "When she'll have no memory of me but perhaps a lingering smile. Or sadness." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Luc. I will honor her memory by never straying from what she brought me back to. I never deserved her to begin with."
"No one deserved her more," Luc rejoined. But Jonah was already winging away into the darkness.
"He goes to mourn her," one of the captains said. A request for reassurance. "Can't we--"
Lucifer placed a hand on the captain's shoulder. "He'll be all right. He doesn't know it, but he flies into the Lady's arms, even now. Let Her take care of him."
THERE was a place in the universe Jonah preferred for his meditation after battle. It had a vantage point of the Milky Way, and he hovered there now, willing his mind to clear as he stretched out on a dense blanket of energy to hold him. He made his muscles ease, one by one, but the act allowed other things to sweep through him, over the shields against his emotions.
Anna, before his sword. Soft hair blowing around her, unafraid, even as he stood there like a Grim Reaper. Blood on her face from his fist, the power of his energy used against her. The rising cries of his captors egging him on. Kill her. Kill her.
He knew what he must have looked like, caring not who or what he killed. His eyes red fire, his heart no longer his own, a specter more terrifying than the army of Dark Ones behind him.
She'd opened her arms to him, her gaze seeing him, seeing past it all. Wisdom he'd known, but somewhere along the way the blackness of his soul had painted over it. The hope of the world was not in the complex theories of the philosophers or the politics of men, but simply in this. The power of love and creation, a touch of love and forgiveness waiting just a step away . . .
He'd felt it pervade him, her life essence, all her love for him. She'd given him another unbearably poignant gift. He understood that wisdom again; the blackness washed away. He knew why the Goddess had done what She'd done. A spark could grow into a flame, and when that light spread, all darkness would be warmed by it.
He remembered what Anna had said about Ix Chel and the underwater caves, how the Mayans had seen the openings to the caves as tunnels to the Underworld, to rebirth. Healing.
When Anna's blood had mixed with his, light had exploded through him, through his empty chest. He'd roared at it, at the feel of her mortally wounded body in his arms, even as her magic and the magic of the seawitch rushed through him. Dark Ones around him screaming in agony, scattering before that light. Anna's light became his as the coffin carrying his heart simply turned to dust in the hands of the one carrying it, and he felt its power and weight flood his chest again. The power to feel, to ache, yes. But also the power to love, which he now knew was greater than any agony, any loss.
Her smile . . . her touch . . . her faith in him. He couldn't lose faith. No, he wouldn't. For her. But his heart, the one she'd restored or given, felt so empty. To be able to hold her, press his face in her hair, smell it . . .
Her hair. He recalled the bracelet he wore for the first time, and it choked him to find it still there. The knot in his chest was so painful he pressed his wrist to his forehead, trying to feel past the loss. Burying his hands in her hair. Her laughter. She'd been a miracle.
A gift.
Her energy surrounded him, replacing his incorporeal bed with the substantial coils of Her presence, a warmth and comfort, but filled to brimming with all the grief and loss he'd experienced. Such that it was the easiest thing then to turn on his side, pull his wings over his head so he would not shame himself before Her, and let it take him.
He didn't think, didn't wonder why things couldn't be different, didn't imagine anyone to blame. He simply felt, loved and grieved.
The harsh sobs that wracked him went on for a long time. Perhaps a day, a week on Earth . . . one thousand years of pain unleashed. Her light built around him, charged with Her compassion, holding him, rocking him.
When at last he was done, She had him completely encapsulated, carrying him, cocooning him. Until Her gentle hand eased back a wing to see his face.
"My handsome, weary angel. You have suffered much for me, Jonah. Even angels who are warriors are beings of light, of life. To be immersed in death and destruction for so long, with such evil, it wears upon you, the soul, the mind."
He saw it in Her eyes, what Lucifer had tried to say about Her. "We all suffer, my Lady. For evil is something that will always be with us."
"But then why do you fight?"
"Because we must." He thought of the row of pictures in Anna's cottage. "She ended up dead, just as they did, but it wasn't that she feared. It was dying without hope, without light or purpose. Mina was right. The condition of the spirit will ever be the spark. The spark is You. And me. All of us."
He felt Her soft smile. "You said the witch's name rather than calling her Dark Spawn. There is hope for my stern and immovable angel yet."
In that one gentle moment of humor, his heart poured open to Her. He felt Her within him, himself in Her, and there was a stillness to him that made the sadness that much more acute and bearable at once. And She saw that as well.
"You've given me so much, Jonah. You've earned the honor of Full Submission long before now."
He considered that, straightening up to sit cross-legged on the bed created by Her energy alone, since all of his had gone into his grief. "Perhaps it is a male way of thinking, my Lady," he said slowly, "but I am charged to protect you, as I was to protect Anna. Because I was hers and she was mine. It's a part of what You are, but more than that, I don't wish to abdicate the ability to see right and wrong, to protect you when you need it."
"Even when I do not think I need it? I am at least over four billion years old, Jonah." At his uncomfortable shrug, her amusement surrounded him. "You are right, my Commander. It is very male thinking. No wonder you and my Lord get along so well."
"Lucifer."
"Yes." Myriad emotions curved around him. "He is my balance, as you know. And yet, that balance is strong because it shifts, grows, struggles . . ."
"Are You saying the two of You . . . argue?" He could not get his mind around such a thing, but then he remembered standing on a Sea of Glass, challenging Her, and a flush rose in his cheeks.
Her laughter was the winds, moving the stars and spinning them so they glittered like diamonds.
"I remember a bitter moment, after Ronin's death, when you mocked the text that said God made man in His own image. You thought there could be no greater insult to me. But what was in that one spark was the deepest essence of my image. An extraordinarily complex ab
ility to love, so complex it wars with the dark side of human nature constantly. It is the greatest gift I can give, and I hope that spark will never allow the darkness to gain dominance in the human heart, for their sakes as well as my own."
She grew serious then, the stars stilling, only flickering. "The Dark Ones have never understood, not since the beginning. I could tell them, but I don't think they would ever understand. It is their greatest weakness, as well as ours. It is also our greatest strength against them. You were more right than you know. Because even if they have an angel fighting at their head, if that angel is there because of a sacrifice of love, not because of a true surrender to evil, then love can call him back and turn the tide.
"You were so close at one point to proving that wrong . . ." She materialized enough for him to see the hint of a woman's face, so beautiful and timeless it made him miss Anna all that much more, even as he could not help but feel the peace She had to offer. It also made him remember how the poison had intertwined with his rage and grief and brought him to ugly places in himself . . . the red anger of Anna's back . . . his avoidance of the Joining Magic, of anything that would lead him back into the Lady's embrace . . .
Her gaze saw and knew it all. "But it was Anna's love that called you back to yourself, kept calling you back to yourself, until you were ready to step back onto the path yourself. It is always the way of it. We none of us do this alone.
"Anna's gift was that she was a complete balance. Through her shapeshifting, she was connected to all elements--fire as the phoenix, water as the mermaid, air as the fairy, and of course her flesh is of the earth. That is also why the magic was even stronger when you brought love forth in her."
Her tone softened. "Lucifer was also right, what he said about you deserving her. You did deserve her, Jonah, for all your many years of service. That's why she is my gift to you." She paused, and the universe turned around him, dark and light, all the planets and the stillness that existed out here, as well as within him.
That's why she is my gift to you.
Jonah's heart pounded up into his throat. "My Lady?"
"She waits for you in her ocean. Why do you make her wait, sitting up here talking to an old, old, old woman?"