Archangel’s Ascension: Chapter 35

After telling Dmitri they needed a few extra days away from New York, and receiving the second’s go-ahead, Illium and Aodhan flew directly from the celebrations in India, to Africa. Instead of traveling overland, however, they flew over water, their destination the border city of Narja. Titus controlled the section of the continent below the dividing line, while Zanaya held the northern half.

At first sight of a long-range scout Illium recognized as Kwayedza, one of Titus’s senior people, Illium immediately winged over. “Hello, my friend.” They exchanged a forearm grip, the other man’s grin a bright glow against the rich dark of his skin. “Do you know if my mother is still at Narja?”

It had been her intended destination when she left India, but as Guardian of Lumia, she could as often be found in Morocco as in the lands held by her beloved Titus. He knew the two missed each other beyond bearing when separated, but they also accepted the duty each had to the people under their care. For Illium’s mother, however, her fidelity to her post had another, more visceral meaning.

“I will never again stop being Sharine—and Sharine has been entrusted to watch over Lumia,” she’d said to him on one visit—when he’d acted as a courier to ferry a fragile piece of art to the place that, among its other charges, was the repository of angelic creativity.

“That Titus not only understands that,” she’d said, her expression tender, “but is proud of me for the position I command, my dedication to duty? It plays an important role in why I love him so. Love should seek to make you bigger and brighter, Illium, never smaller.”

It had taken Illium a long time to realize that he could never have any true comprehension of being made smaller by love—because even in the worst depths of his own anguish, Aodhan had always encouraged him to fly. He hadn’t ever tried to keep Illium locked to the Refuge, to him. Illium had been important enough to Aodhan that though he hadn’t spoken much after his abduction, he’d found the will to confront him about his hovering vigil.

“Don’t you dare bury yourself here,” the other man had growled at Illium a year after his rescue, while he continued on his long recovery.

A piercing look out of those eyes devastated by lingering physical pain. “Fly, Blue.” The first time in over a hundred years that he’d used that childhood nickname. “Dazzle the world as you’ve always been destined to do. I’ll never forgive you if you dull your shine because of me.”

Illium wanted to turn, kiss the life out of his lover, but Kwayedza was replying to his question.

“You’re in luck.” The scout’s smile cut even deeper grooves in his cheeks at the mention of the adored Lady Sharine. “If you stay on your current trajectory, you will be with her before dark.”

“My thanks. And while I know you have to alert the citadel that we’re on our way, could you ask them to keep it a secret from her?”

Kwayedza chuckled. “Yes, no problem. Titus has made it known that you are free to fly through his lands whenever you wish to see Lady Sharine. Aodhan, also.”

“My thanks, too, Kwayedza.” Aodhan exchanged a forearm clasp with the other man before he and Illium angled away to continue their flight to the border city.

Narja was a bustling metropolis centered around the citadel that sat on a rise at its center. It had begun life as a trading city, a center of commerce between territories, turned into a battle citadel when Charisemnon became an obnoxious—and later, an evil—neighbor, only to once more return to its original function after Zanaya took over Northern Africa.

While it was a thriving modern city of steel and glass, its streets flowing with cars and motorcycles, it had no skyscrapers—because skyscrapers were targets in a border city. The only reason the citadel itself sat high was that it permitted expansive sightlines in battle—and even the citadel had been shaped to have a massive footprint, so that it couldn’t simply be knocked down. It was too heavily rooted to the earth.

Illium heard the car horns drifting up from the city as they flew through, smiled. “Narja’s always reminded me of New York even though it looks nothing like it.” Quite aside from the lack of skyscrapers, the streets weren’t laid out in a neat grid, but in a chaotic sprawl designed to fool the eyes of winged enemies.

“It’s the energy of it.” Aodhan rode an air current a distance before returning to Illium’s side. “It has the same vibrant heart.”

“I think you’re right.” Having stayed high for the most part, Illium now began to descend toward the roof of the citadel.

Aodhan followed.

The lower they went, the more of the city they could see and smell and hear. A low murmur of noise that was pure life, enmeshed with the scents of food, produce, and people. Rich and layered and textured, Narja enticed with its warmth and complexity while hinting at the sleek efficiency of its infrastructure.

Titus wasn’t the most tech-minded of archangels, but he had people on his team whose job it was to stay on top of innovation. That was what made him a good archangel despite his personal preferences.

They landed to a smiling welcome from one of Titus’s vampiric staff members. “Lady Sharine is in the courtyard, practicing hand-to-hand combat.”

Illium had to wrench on the reins to halt his instinctive protective response. His mother was no longer a fragile being with a fractured mind. These days, not only was she the Guardian of Lumia, she was also the lover of an archangel who could be too much for even other archangels—and she had no trouble holding her own with him.

Not particularly wanting to think of his mother and the word in the same breath, Illium skated away from that thought as he and Aodhan made their way into the warm stone of the citadel. “That way”—he pointed right—“pretty sure there’s a balcony there from where we can look down into the courtyard.”

The citadel had an external wall, which meant the courtyard could be fully enclosed. However, the large main gates were left open for the most part. Illium didn’t initially spot his mother in the huge space active with movement…but no, there she was, in the far right corner, the sunlight-dusted indigo of her wings held tight to her back as she circled her opponent. The two were in a more private area of the courtyard, a section surrounded by its own walls.

Her gold-tipped black hair woven back into a tight braid, she wore a dark brown tank top and sleek black pants, both similar to things he’d seen other women wear when training. No shoes, both his mother and her opponent in bare feet.

She seemed so young that it made his breath stop in his chest.

Sometimes, he looked at her and almost didn’t recognize her, but in a way that made him ferociously proud of her. His mother was fully now, defiant and intent and a law unto herself.

She also moved with a dangerous grace that had his mouth falling open. “When did she learn to do that?”

“Is she sparring with Ozias? I can’t make out the other fighter’s features from here, but she has the falcon wing coloring and she’s tall enough.”

“Yes, that’s her.” Titus’s spymaster—and a deadly warrior. “Knives! Why are they using knives?”

Aodhan gripped the back of his T-shirt when he jerked forward. “Do make Eh-ma angry when we’ve only just arrived.”

Illium gritted his teeth. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch.” He promptly closed his eyes. “Tell me when they’re done.”

A warm chuckle had Illium barely cracking open one eye. He winced as Ozias got in a hard kick, then grinned when his mother retaliated with a punch the spymaster never saw coming. By the time the two bowed to each other to finish off the bout, he had both eyes open and a fist up in a silent cheer.

His mother’s head jerked up right then, though neither he nor Aodhan had made a sound; she flew over to them a heartbeat later. “Boys! I hoped you’d detour this way!” Huge hugs and kisses from the tiny storm force of a woman who had given birth to Illium, and who had held Aodhan’s hand through unimaginable pain.

She alone would always have the right to call them boys—though Illium knew she’d be annoyed with herself for the slip. Even after all this time, she took intense care to treat Illium as an adult, her son who she’d so often treated as a child during her lost years.

After she’d lavished them both with affection, she just beamed at them. “You look so happy.” The champagne hue of her eyes sparkled. “What have you been up to?” Delight in her voice, along with a faint maternal suspicion that made Illium want to laugh—he couldn’t really blame her for it, not after all their previous escapades.

“We snuck into Aegaeon’s territory and put statues of butts facing his palace,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened before she caught his twitching lips and threatened him with an invisible slipper. “I swear, you’re getting worse the older you get.” Her own lips twitching now, she turned to Aodhan. “I used to think you’d be a good influence, but then I realized you’d happily do things like make butt statues for him.”

Aodhan’s laugh was a huge thing as full of light as his voice. “I love you, Eh-ma,” he said before enfolding her in his arms and wings.

Illium didn’t hear what his mother said in response, but whatever it was made Aodhan’s cheeks crease again before he released Sharine. “We haven’t been doing mischief,” he said before holding out his wrist with its amber bracelet.

Sharine’s hands flew to her mouth as she looked from Aodhan’s wrist to the hand Illium flexed next to it. “Oh, oh.” Her eyes filled, her tears welling over as she took both their hands and just looked.

“I always knew your hearts were bound together,” she said later, after she’d dragged them to the privacy of the sitting area in her and Titus’s suite. “That your friendship would never break, no matter if you quarreled.” She ran her hand over Illium’s cheek. “But to see it come to this…my joy is infinite.”

For a moment, as she looked at him before turning to Aodhan, Illium saw endless rivers of time in her eyes, pain upon pain, happiness upon happiness. She was changing, becoming, but Sharine, the Hummingbird, already carried lifetimes within her.

“I am so grateful to be your son,” he found himself saying even as Aodhan drew her into a side hug, more comfortable with her than he still was with most people. “Your love taught me the meaning of love.”

Her lower lip quivered.

“Blue has the pretty words, Eh-ma, but he says what’s in my heart, too.” Aodhan’s voice was rough. “You helped me grow into the man I’ve become in a way so significant that I’ll never be able to tell you the entirety of it.” A kiss pressed to her temple. “Thank you for being you and for fighting to hold on to me when I wanted to forget myself.”

Sharine cried again, all the while scolding them both for making her lose control even as she hugged and kissed them at the same time. “You must stay,” she said when she could speak. “We will celebrate like the mortals do when they wed each other. It’s not the done thing in angelkind, but Titus says I have a rebellious streak.”

“Where do you think inherited it from?” Aodhan said, pointing at Illium.

The dry words made Sharine laugh and Illium grin, and of course they stayed—and two nights hence, after Aodhan’s parents and sister and her family accepted the invitation to join them, Sharine and Titus celebrated Illium and Aodhan in a small inner courtyard awash in flowers and lights and overflowing with food.

It was a small and intimate gathering of family, but that made it no less raucous. Especially when two of Titus’s sisters joined them…to be followed by Naasir and Andromeda, then Raphael and Elena.