“That mask can truly raise the dead, then,” Naomi said hoarsely.
Bryce nodded. “The Fallen wouldn’t be given new, breathing bodies, but yes—they’d be able to help us.”
“What sort of bodies, then?” Isaiah asked, glancing nervously at Hunt.
“Ones the Asteri already made for us,” Bryce said a shade quietly. “Perfect blends of magic and tech.”
“The new mech-suits,” Hunt realized. “The ones the Asteri stationed on Mount Hermon.”
Bryce nodded gravely. “I think Rigelus stationed those suits up there to taunt you guys, but it’s about to blow up in his stupid fucking face. Lidia said the suits don’t need pilots to operate, so we don’t have to worry about any physical interference. Dec can hack into their computer system and block imperial access while the souls of the Fallen fuse with the mech-suits and pilot them under Naomi and Isaiah’s command.”
But to do what she was suggesting …
“We can’t,” Hunt rasped, wings slumping. “I can’t ask them to die for us again. Even if they’re already dead. The Fallen have given too much.”
Bryce walked over to him. Took his hand. “We need those suits piloted by the Fallen, or they’ll be used against us by the Asteri. We need the Asteri and their forces entirely occupied.”
But Hunt’s heart twisted. “Bryce.”
“It will be their choice whether to return, to pilot those suits. I’ll give them that choice, when I raise them. And I’ll be with you for every moment of it.” She nodded to Isaiah and Naomi. “They’ll command the Fallen. You don’t need to shoulder that burden anymore. I’ll need you with me—in the Asteri’s palace.”
He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. Celestina could have struck, he supposed, but she remained kneeling.
And just as he had that day when Hunt had given Sandriel her due, Isaiah suddenly knelt before him. Naomi joined him on her knees.
“I’m not an Archangel,” Hunt blurted. “And I haven’t agreed to lead you two. So get up.”
It was Celestina who said, “Perhaps the age of Archangels is over.”
“You sound happy about it.”
“I would be, if it were to come to pass,” Celestina said, and got to her feet. “I told you once: Shahar was my friend. I might not have had the courage to fight alongside her then …” Her chin lifted. “But I do now.”
He was having none of it. “And what are you going to do during all this?”
Bryce answered before Celestina could reply. “She’s going to Ephraim’s fortress.” At Hunt’s surprised look, echoed by Celestina, Bryce explained, “He’s the closest Archangel to the Eternal City. We need him occupied. If Ephraim joins the fight, it will complicate everything.”
Celestina nodded gravely. “I will make sure he does not come within a hundred miles of the capital.”
“How?” Hunt demanded. “Tie him up?”
“I will do whatever is necessary to end this,” Celestina said, chin high.
Hunt pointed to the Rift. “We’re going to open the Rift to Hel. You didn’t seem too keen on that a moment ago.”
Celestina glanced between Hunt and Bryce. “It goes against everything I’ve worked for, but … it does seem that all you two have done has been in the best interest of the innocents of Midgard. I don’t believe that you would open the Rift if it would jeopardize the most vulnerable.”
“Yeah?” Hunt snapped. “And where the fuck were you when Asphodel Meadows was blasted into nothing?”
That brought a measure of ice to Bryce’s stare. True grief filled Celestina’s eyes.
“It was the final straw, Hunt,” Isaiah said. “Why we—she—disobeyed the Asteri. They gave no warning. The ships pulled into the Istros, and they said it was for our protection. I didn’t even know the ships could send aerial missiles that far.”
Naomi’s lashes were pearled with tears that quickly turned to ice as she added, “It was the most cowardly, unforgivable … We don’t stand for that. None of us. Not Celestina, and certainly not the 33rd.”
Hunt looked back to Bryce, and found only pain and cold resolve staring back at him. She was right. They had enough enemies. Ones who had to pay.
And he might not have trusted one word out of an Archangel’s mouth, but if Isaiah and Naomi believed Celestina, that meant something. Isaiah, who had suffered under Archangels as much as Hunt had, was here, helping Celestina, knowing she had betrayed his friend. Isaiah wasn’t some spineless asshole—he was good and smart and brave.