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“It needs to be big enough for all of us.”
“All of… what?”
“I made a promise to them. I can’t just leave them here—I have to take them somewhere safe, or they’ll die out here.”
It was there that Micah had drawn his line. Yes, many of these demons were once angels in Micah’s charge, and yes, he’d had a fondness for those angels, but they were no longer those angels. Convincing him to allow an entire host of potentially dangerous demons into Helena was going to be a hard sell.
“Sarakiel…” he paused. “Think of what you’re asking me to do.”
“They helped me. I need you to bring them with us.”
He lowered his voice. “They helped you because they had something to gain from it. I have to think of the safety of everyone at Helena.”
“What of their safety? Lucifer dumped them all in a desert and left them to die. Helena is a bastion?—”
“A bastion for angels,” Micah hissed. “I came here to get you. Can you imagine what would happen if I showed up with hundreds of demons?”
“One hundred-ish,” I said. “I know what I’m asking of you, and I know I have no right to ask it, but they’re mortal now, Micah. Without food, water, or shelter, they’ll die out here—and that’s if the other loyalists don’t get them first. You’re the only one who can help these people.”
Micah’s face darkened once more. “This is an army, Sarakiel. An army I’d be delivering right to Helena’s doorstep.”
“Lucifer opened the gates of Hell… he has an army of his own. What do you think he’ll do once the surviving demons get to him? One by one, he’ll attack every single angelic bastion on Earth until there’s none of us left. We’ll need all the help we can get if we want to stop him. That means rallying every angel, every bastion, every demon willing to?—”
“You don’t know…” he said, trailing off.
Micah’s expression had changed. It wasn’t surprise, or shock, or even anger I saw on his cherub face anymore, but a kind of devastating sadness.
“Don’t know about what?” I asked.
Micah’s throat worked. He shook his head. “There… there are no more bastions. There’s only Helena.”
“What? Wait, what are you talking about?”
The cherub looked down at his feet, then back up at me. “Lucifer started destroying them almost a year ago. It only took him a couple of months or so to ruin almost every bastion we knew about; all but ours. We were able to hold him off, but now he has legions of demons at his back.”
“A year?” I shook my head. “No, that’s not right. It hasn’t been a year.”
“Maybe not for you, but it has been for us. You went up to Heaven a year ago, Sarakiel; a lot has changed since then. Not just for us, but for the mortals, too… you must have seen all the ash.”
No.
I’d known as soon as I’d seen it, but I had hoped so desperately that I was wrong. A year—a whole year in which Lucifer had run amok upon the Earth. With all the bastions destroyed, there was no one to challenge him as he turned his attention toward the humans he loathed so much.
I didn’t want to know exactly what he’d done to them. That train of thought lead to Abaddon, and anxiety over his role in all of it. I was still holding tight to some hope that it wasn’t what it looked like, but then, why would he look so marked…
Like it or not, it wasn’t the time to be asking questions. I had to swallow every ounce of emotion and stay firmly locked in Lightbringer mode, because it was clear Micah was growing more uncomfortable by the second. If Helena was the last angelic bastion on Earth, it was going to be difficult to convince him to risk it.
Almost as if she had read my mind—or at least accurately read the sudden tension—it was Missolis who spoke next. “If Lucifer is the kind of angel I think he is, he will not abide your bastion to continue standing. He will throw army after army against its walls until they crack, like waves wearing down a cliff. He is patient, but he will see it fall one day.”
Micah stared at Missolis, then looked back at me. “You must understand, I can’t simply allow a horde of demons into Helena. There are so few of us left, morale is at an all time low, things have changed since you left, Sarakiel, and not for the better.”
“Micah, please. You know their names, their true names. Look at them. They rejected Lucifer, they rejected Hell. They wanted to get back into Heaven, hoping that by spitting demonism back into Hell’s face they could earn their redemption. This is their chance, and it’s our chance too.”
“Sarakiel—”
“I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m asking of you, but I’m also asking you to see the bigger picture. What are the odds that fate would deliver these rebels to you when you needed them the most? Imagine the boost to morale when the angels find out that actual demons are on their side!”
Micah looked around at the demons waiting to hear his answer. There were more of them, now. They had all flown up to the rooftop to listen to this conversation, to await their fate. They weren’t interrupting, they weren’t yelling, or shouting, or trying to convince him to take them in. Not even Hekata had piped up, which was a surprise considering how vocal she usually was.
