The Divided: Amalgam War

By P D'arcuri

The angels of Adaeus’ day denounced Deverill as myth.

They were wrong.

But nobody knows it.

It’s been ten years since the Summit War cost Inassa both her parents, but her resolve to continue their legacy remains undimmed. As heir to King Adaeus’ angelic nation, there’s one thing she knows for certain: the Supremacist Council isn’t doing half what it should to protect the humans on Horizon from the demon plague.

But Inassa dares not question the Council her father held in such high esteem . . . . Until loyalty to her closest friend compels her to defy Supremacist orders in a reckless rescue that brings her face-to-face with the suave demon ringleader. The encounter sparks an inferno of half-answered questions. With every passing day the demons ravaging Horizon devour more human souls, and Inassa’s nightmares––premonitions of a savage darkness consuming her essence––worsen.

Nightmare collides with reality when a man in a golden mask appears with a dire warning. He swears he’s come to help Inassa, but beneath his mask waits a revelation that will hurl her into a tempest of truths forgotten––or stolen. As her passion for protecting her people transforms into a battle for justice, each step lures Inassa closer to recreating the treachery of the past she’s trying desperately to flee.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P D'arcuri
• Release date: May 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370639335

P D'arcuri

P D’arcuri is a personal trainer and an ex-performer of the arts, but it is storytelling and digital design that are closest to his heart. An ardent creative writer and poem enthusiast, in his spare time he enjoys reading, self-educating, exploring and traveling. He loves meeting new people from all walks of life and accommodating friends and family when he’s able. D’arcuri discovered early on in life that he enjoys trying new things. In his early teens he began modeling for well-known brands such as GUESS, DIESEL, and SAMSUNG, but it was always movies and animation that captured his heart. As a hobby he began to write scripts, short stories, and poetry, and even started penning his own quotes to convey his views and experiences, sharing them on social media to encourage and inspire others. D’arcuri’s work is driven by a fervent desire to evoke emotion; every story he writes begins with an emotion that blossoms into an idea expressed vividly in words. Through the power of story he aims to motivate, touch, and edify others. Grant him a podium and the passion of his words, flawlessly sculpted, will strike the deepest chords of your heart. D’arcuri honed his storytelling skills teaching English to foreign students with a diploma earned through his two-and-a-half year military service. Combined with past and current jobs, his military experience molded his ability to communicate with people from diverse backgrounds, allowing him to master the art of driving a point across all audiences despite language and cultural barriers. He makes his debut into the realm of supernatural fantasy with The Div/ded: the compelling story of Inassa, an angelic princess heiress to an age-old struggle between light and dark who walks the knife-edge of treachery and compromise as she strives to protect the kingdom she holds dear. Rich with themes of drama, revenge, betrayal and love, Inassa’s story explores the fearsome courage of a young woman straining to reach truth through convoluted shades of good and evil. Through The Div/ded readers will have the chance to interact with D’arcuri, to sample his magical ingenuity and taste the complexity of his creativity. He also hopes to create a platform where fellow creative minds are encouraged to explore their own talents.

Book preview

INSOMNIA

Inassa dreamt.

In the dream she stood surrounded by softly-churning darkness. There was no sound. There was no movement. There was no light. There was just her, a young woman with eyes green like sea-glass, standing among the blackness in a dress of pale chiffon.

Inassa turned her hands in front of her face and frowned. Though there was dark all around, her hands were lit as if by daylight. What was this place?

Instantly the mist drew back and she found herself standing a ways back from the edge of a cliff. In front of her was another little girl, golden-haired with a pert little nose and dimples in her cheeks. She wore a blue dress with a ribbon round the waist.

Hello? Inassa took a tentative step forward. Who are you?

Smiling, the girl ran toward the edge of the cliff, golden curls bouncing on her shoulders.

Anxiety flickered dimly in Inassa. The girl shouldn’t be that close to the cliff. She shouldn’t be running. What if she tripped and fell? Wait! Inassa ran after the girl. Don’t go too close to the edge!

Ignoring her, the girl ran straight to the edge of the cliff and off it. Her blue dress disappeared into the clouds, ribbon fluttering, and Inassa dove after her. If she caught the girl, she knew, she could protect her.

Inassa plummeted through the sky. The wind whistled in her ears; her dress flapped frantically around her, tangling with her legs. Scraps of retreating darkness morphed into scraps of cloud, and Inassa clutched at them vainly as she plunged past. She twisted in the air, trying to see where she was falling, but her hair plastered across her eyes.

She struck a hard surface, the force of the impact driving her to her knees. For a long moment she stayed where she was, letting the pain of landing dissolve through her body. Air passed stiffly in and out of her nostrils.

Slowly Inassa stood. Soft, gasping breezes tugged at her hair and the fringes of her dress. She stood on the top of a building that towered above the surrounding city. City? No––it was a devastation. Except for the building she stood on, the entire city had been razed to the ground.

Heaps of rubble crawled up the skeletons of what once had been proud skyscrapers; loose papers tumbled through the streets on the currents of mindless whirlwinds. Everywhere was nothing but ruin and debris. The city was dead, as if it were a living thing whose bones had been shattered by some monstrous, destructive hand, and all its organs squeezed out through the rents claws had torn it its skin.

There were no people. There was no life. There was no movement. Even the air that trickled past Inassa’s face, though it was not still, did not seem to move. Even it was a dead, forgotten thing, wandering out the last of its waning breath.

Far in the distance, beyond the scar of ravaged buildings, an ocean lay gray and still under a morose sky.

The little girl in the blue dress was nowhere to be seen.

Overcome by the tragedy of the city around her, Inassa crumpled to her knees and began to cry. She cried for the people who had once lived there, for the loved ones they had lost and the lives that had been buried in the rubble. How, she wondered, could such a thing happen? What wicked power could have wrought so much havoc?

Soon, said a small voice from behind her, things will change.

Inassa whirled, staggering to her feet.

It was the little girl. She stood a few paces back on the roof of the building, hands held together in front of her as if cradling something infinitely precious. She opened her cupped hands delicately. Out of them flew a blue butterfly.

To say it was blue did not begin to capture the wonder of its color. To say it was a butterfly did not describe with due splendor its perfect, shimmering, celestial form. Its beauty was such as is spoiled by too many words, for words hold no meaning, no depth, no breadth, with which to draw it. It simply was. Flawless.

As if on the breath of an angel, the butterfly lifted from the girl’s hands and drifted toward Inassa. Stunned by its beauty she reached out her hand, trembling, and touched one of its wings as it flittered by her face.

The building crumbled. Inassa wailed as she tumbled downward amid a chaos of jagged cement blocks and steel beams that wrinkled like paper under the force of the destruction. Panic flooded her senses like a noxious gas and she clenched her eyes shut, screaming, as the ground rushed up to meet her.

Inassa struck water and sank into it. The shock of the impact drove the breath from her and her eyes and mouth jerked open. Water gushed down her throat. The water sucked her down, cruel, heedless. A silent scream filled her mind as she spun into its depths, clawing at the darkness that whirled bitingly around her.

Air seemed a very, very far way away. Inassa scrabbled against the current but her strength was nothing. Water filled her mouth, her eyes, her lungs. Her lungs! Her lungs screamed for air, but there was none.

Only blackness. Pain deep in her chest. Aching pain, winding tighter and tighter till she cried, but her tears were lost in the reckless maelstrom.

And then bit by bit the winding slowed, like the patient turning of a clock back in time. Time slowed. The world held its breath. Numb Inassa floated, arms and legs flung out around her as the womb of the deep caressed her into oblivion. No longer was there pain, or want. Not even for air. There was only peace. Fuzzy darkness crept in on her mind.

"Inassa." It was a young boy’s voice, so soft as to be little more than the whisper of a butterfly’s wings.

But the peace was all around her, and she barely heard. She drifted among the currents, dress billowing in the water. Her hair flared in a halo around her head, wisps of it coiling around her ears and chin.

Inassa. The boy’s voice came louder.

Inassa’s eyelids burst open and something inside of her erupted like the death of a star. An ineffable force of will drove her upward, parting the water like a knife. Water sprayed as she exploded from the surface and arced into the air, a veil of droplets streaming from her out-flung hair.

Gasping lungfuls of air, Inassa landed back in the water and pulled herself to the shore with long, strong strokes. She crawled onto the sand and lay there for a minute, coughing and panting. When she stood she found herself looking down at a pair of boy’s shoes, wet and plastered with sand. Puzzled, she bent to touch them. Movement rustled in front of her. She looked up, eyes wide.

A little boy stood before her. He had dark brown hair and eyes a brown so light it seemed the sun must have glowed within him. He smiled gently, reaching out one hand. There is no time left, he murmured.

Inassa blinked, water blurring her eyes, and reached hesitantly to take his hand.

The ground crumbled beneath her. Again. Whimpering, she tumbled into the earth’s maw and fell fast away from the brown-eyed boy. Dirt choked her and snagged at her dress. In a flash she saw the face of another boy, one with lighter hair and eyes red and cold as frozen flame. Her heart withered at the sight of him and she twisted away––

––and struck something hard.

Inassa jerked awake. Breathing stiffly, she stared up at the ceiling in the dark. Goosebumps crawled along her skin. Her stomach churned; she bit her lip and closed her eyes, trembling softly beneath the sheets.

Another dream. The dreams kept coming, night after night, summoning the specters of her worst fears and parading them behind her sleeping eyes in endless, futile circles. Every night she dreamt something different but similar, something she felt she ought to recognize but couldn’t quite place. And no matter how much she pondered her dreams she could never find a common thread to string them all together.

Sighing, Inassa let her head flop to the side and screwed up her eyes to read the glowing numbers of her digital watch, propped on her nightstand. 12:48. She groaned. Twice she had fallen into restless sleep this night, and twice woken restless still.

Beside the luminous integers lay the despairing letter the messenger had brought from Horizon yesterday––Earth, as the humans called it––but she ignored it.

Maybe I should tell someone, she thought, yawning and sitting up in bed. So far she hadn’t dared tell a soul––not Euclid or Bitel, not even Makenna. She wanted so desperately to figure the dreams out. But for all the significance she was sure they carried, their meaning remained stubbornly elusive.

I’m probably overthinking all of this. Things are falling apart in Haven; of course I’m having nightmares. Euclid is gone at war more often than he’s home, Staezzarud has grown belligerent about the border dispute, and I’m effectively useless for seven more weeks. Groggily Inassa swung her legs over the side of the bed. The marble floor, polished to shine like moonlight, sent a chill across her bare skin.

Seven weeks. She feared her patience would snap at six, or five. Or now. The circle of advisors who served as regents until she came of age were making little progress toward amending relations with Staezzarud, and no matter how fervently she wanted to help, her hands were tied until her nineteenth birthday. Nineteen was the year Haven law permitted her to assume the authority of governance. Six months ago it had seemed so close. Now, with politics what they were, it was irritatingly far away.

She sat a moment in the darkness, gazing at the dim shapes of her bedroom. Everything was tastefully elegant in its draping of white––diaphanous white curtains, white upholstery on the chairs, white marble floor, white sheets on her bed. Clean and pure and beautiful. Graceful as a princess.

Which was fitting, since she was a princess.

A princess with a title but no power. Inassa rubbed her eyes and smoothed her hair away from her face. The way things were going, Haven might be up in arms against Staezzarud before she took the crown. But it was Horizon Inassa lost sleep over. The demons on Horizon, the humans’ Earth, were getting bolder. They hunted more frequently and more openly. Reports from Euclid’s scouts indicated a demon ringleader––the offspring of an old enemy from the Summit War, though nobody knew which––was mustering an army to conquer the Human Sphere.

Whether or not that was true, it was hard to tell. The demons were cunning enough to never amass in large numbers, so Euclid and his armies skipped about Horizon, itching for an honest confrontation but catching only petty demons and old rumors. Demons here. Demons there. They were like foxes, always disappearing into their dens after the first glimpse. And while Euclid chased them futilely, their soul hunts grew in frequency and savagery. Demons had always needed human souls to sustain them, but only recently had they begun to attack openly.

Inassa fingered the corner of the letter on her nightstand.

If there is anyone watching over us, read my words and take pity. Monsters stalk among us. I beg of you––rescue us from the demons that haunt our Earth. Avenge the atrocities we’ve suffered.

If there is anyone guarding the human race, I pray, save us.

She shook her head, auburn hair tumbling around her shoulders. Protecting the Human Sphere is our duty. Embedded in our angelic DNA. But each day the demons ravage precious Horizon, and what do the Supremes do? Nothing!

There were no hidden meanings to her nightmares. The meanings were clear as summer sunlight. The foundations of the Angelic Sphere were trembling as tensions between Horizon and Staezzarud rose, consuming the Supreme Council’s attention and causing them to neglect the demon plague on Horizon. Nightmares were the most natural thing in the world.

Sighing, Inassa trailed to the glass doors leading out to her balcony

Seven weeks. Hold on, Haven. I’m coming. Pushing the doors open, she glided out into the luxurious warmth of the night. At the balcony railing she inhaled deeply.

You too, eh?

Inassa turned in surprise. Euclid! I didn’t know you were home! Between commanding Haven’s armies and acting as diplomat to the Supreme Council and other angelic nations, her brother spent most of his time away from home.

Euclid shrugged where he sat with his back to the wall on the side of his own balcony, adjacent to hers. I wasn’t hoping to be, but the trail we were following ran straight into a dead end. One of his knees was bent up; the other dangled over the edge, swinging peacefully as he stared into the deep velvet of the sky. Every time there’s a major hunt we’re on the scene within twenty-four hours and usually we can pick up a trace, follow the energy signatures to a demon gang. But sometimes it leads nowhere. Abandoned buildings. A crowded city center. And you know the frustrating thing?

Which one? Inassa leaned over the railing. Six hundred feet of playful breezes separated her from the ground forty stories below.

The weaker the demon, the fainter his energy signatures, the harder he is to trace. Euclid’s cheek twitched bitterly. "But any demon, no matter how weak, can kill a human like I can break a twig. It’s backward. The less powerful ones have an easier time surviving because they don’t have to worry about us hunting them down as easily after they make a kill. For once I wish they were more powerful, so we could track them."

Inassa bit her lip and twisted her fingers together, staring out over the vista of Lumiere, capital of Haven. It glittered sleekly in the night. Her precious city. Seven weeks until I have the right to govern you. We ought to persuade the other kingdoms to help. Imagine if we worked together like we did during the Summit War, Euclid. The Four Pillars of the Angelic Sphere coming into alliance to vanquish the demons once and for all.

There is no once and for all, with demons, Euclid muttered.

There could be!

The Four Pillar kingdoms were united during the Summit War, Inassa, and we didn’t destroy them then.

That’s because–– Inassa’s voice dropped "––That’s because Father died, Euclid, and the kingdoms withdrew to tend their own ambitions. Think of what might have happened if he hadn’t died? Instead of scattering to Horizon to live like cockroaches after we vanquished them from the shadow realm, the demons might have been exterminated altogether!"

Euclid shrugged. Although he had their father’s dark hair, the slant of his handsome, sharp-cut features had always reminded Inassa more strongly of their mother. You’ll wear the crown soon enough. See if you can do what I haven’t been able to, eh? If there’s anyone who could bully Staezzarud into order it’d be my little butterfly.

Euclid winked, and a wan smile flickered Inassa’s lips. Although he was older by two years, he had always been more of the recluse between them. He preferred leading Haven’s armies and staying out of its politics. Inassa didn’t care what she did. Fighting, politics––it was all the same to her. As long as she was improving the lives of her people and protecting the defenseless on Horizon.

I’m not thinking so much of bullying, she murmured, tracing the familiar cityscape with her eyes. Every swoop and steeple of Lumiere’s panorama she knew better than the whorls of her own fingerprint. "Bully someone into doing something and they’ll do it grudgingly until you turn your back; then they’ll go back to tending their own affairs. I need Staezzarud, Vithen, and Daetheia to catch my vision for eradicating the demons. It’s the vision that matters, Euclid." Only once all Four Pillars joined would they have the numbers necessary for such a colossal task.

And you’re starting with Staezzarud?

Naturally. Of the three, Staezzarud is closest to Haven.

That’s why Makenna’s here now?

Inassa nodded. What better way to convince Staezzarud to join us against this demon ringleader than to convince their princess?

Euclid laughed, tilting his head against the wall behind him. Makenna doesn’t need convincing, Inassa. She’ll agree with anything you say before you say it.

That was Inassa’s one trusted foothold in all this mess. No matter how intransigent Staezzarud was, Makenna and her had grown up closer than sisters. I wish the Supremes were as understanding.

Is that why you look as if you’ve seen a ghost? You’re worried about your audience with the Council tomorrow?

So he had heard. Good guess, but no. Just can’t sleep. A night train whirred around the loop of track spanning Lumiere’s central canal, its glow rippling across the water. To the left of the canal, underlit in white, the colossal statue of King Adaeus poised regally above the broad central plaza. I’m watching over you, little angel of mine, it always whispered to her. My spirit is with you always.

Nightmares? Euclid asked softly.

Inassa watched the night train until it swooped around the Celestia Hotel and disappeared into the shimmering depths of Lumiere. It’s not the first, either. They keep coming.

You worry too much. If you didn’t worry you wouldn’t have nightmares.

"How can I not worry? Inassa straightened from the railing, streams of blue-white flaring from her shoulder blades as she twisted to face him. Euclid, the Supremes are turning a blind eye to the massacre on Horizon! They’re the only ones with the authority to unite all Four Pillars. I’ve been haranguing them about it for weeks, but they’re doing nothing! Did you read the letter Zeke brought from Earth yesterday?" She flung a quivering finger toward her bedroom doors, indicating the letter on her nightstand inside.

Euclid’s eyes were unreadable. Zeke told me. Another soul hunt.

"It’s not just ‘another soul hunt’! Two girls died Friday night, Euclid. Tears trembled on the brinks of Inassa’s eyelids. The longer we sit and do nothing, the stronger the demons get. I don’t know why the Supremes won’t act. They’re being complacent, but I can’t. Somebody has to do something."

Maybe I can lead Haven’s army to attack the Supremes. Euclid winked. Whip them back into order, eh? He cleared his throat, sliding back into solemnity. Sorry, I know it’s a serious matter. But frankly I think we’re doing what we can. When I’m not up to my neck in politics or debating the other Pillars’ emissaries in front of the Supremes, I’m on Horizon hunting demons.

Inassa took a deep breath and composed herself. I’m sure they’re doing what’s right. The Supremes are the wisest of us all. The most powerful. They know what’s best. It’s probably foolish of me to question them just because I don’t understand their actions. One of the street lamps flickered on the street far below. From so far up it looked like a firefly blinking in the night. Father trusted them.

Euclid grunted agreement. All Four Pillars lost a lot during the war; it’s taken Haven this long just to get back on its feet. Remember, the Supremes are to credit for much of the reconstruction––not only in Haven, but in Staezzarud, Vithen and Daetheia as well. Regulating four kingdoms is an enormous task, Inassa. Our safety is their priority. If the Angelic Sphere isn’t secure, we can’t protect Horizon like we’re supposed to. He was silent for a long moment. Did Zeke tell you how he found the letter?

Said he chanced to be in the city when it happened. Inassa nodded vaguely. Heard about the deaths on the news the next morning. Learned there was a survivor and tracked her down. Apparently the girl––Lisa––wrote the letter and left it on the floor of her apartment before disappearing. The media have tried to find her without success. It seems she’s gone into hiding.

I sent a detachment of demon-hunters after the brown-eyed demon she described, but they never caught his trace.

Demon-hunters. They hunt humans, we hunt them. Inassa sighed and combed her fingers through her hair, watching one of the magnet-drawn canal trains glide into its port, a long, low building barely visible beyond the cascading terraces of Lumiere’s royal library. I wonder why he didn’t kill the girl, she mused. Have you ever heard of that? A demon killing another demon to save a human?

Maybe he has something for her.

This wasn’t a romance, Euclid. She was terrified out of her senses and he threatened to devour her if she didn’t run fast enough.

Who can know? Maybe he was full. He chuckled cryptically.

Are addicts ever satisfied? That’s what they are, you know. Addicted to human souls. It was ingrained in their DNA just like protecting humans was ingrained into the angels’.

The clock tower chimed 1:00 a.m. in the stretch of silence following Inassa’s words. To her right, bordering the Lumiere palace grounds, the overlapping domes of the martial training hall shone with a steady green aura. Shadows fluttered from the flags decorating each steeple, flags of all Four Pillars. In the hierarchy of kingdoms Haven ranked highest, meaning that warriors from every angelic nation flocked to its famed combat academy. Inassa and Euclid had both attended the academy since the age of six.

You’re anxious about going before the Council tomorrow, Euclid observed, eyes tender in the moonlight.

Inassa looked down. How can I not be? I may be the princess, but before their wisdom I’m still just a girl.

You’ll do well, Inassa. I know you will.

I’m angry at the demon, Euclid, but I’m still afraid. Her voice was thick. What he did to them was horrible. It was more than horrible. It was … . She shook her head. Things like that shouldn’t be able to happen. How he killed them … .

He was a demon. That’s what they do.

I’m angry, and I want to bring him––all of them––to justice. But still I am afraid I won’t know what to say in front of the Supremes. I don’t know how to fix all the problems facing us.

It’ll be alright, he whispered. Leave it in their hands for seven more weeks. They are capable.

The quiet, uncompromising steel in his voice strengthened her. Taking a deep breath, Inassa swallowed her tears. You’re right. I’ll do fine.

Euclid laughed. Come on––a little enthusiasm wouldn’t hurt! He yawned widely and climbed to his feet. I’m back to bed. See if I can catch some sleep. No more nightmares, alright?

Inassa smiled faintly. I’ll do my best.

PREPARATION

It was still across the city.

Wind crooned around the steel girders of the roof, fluttering the twin tails of Aloysius’ coat as he paced back and forth a handbreadth from the sheer edge. In the moonlight his sleek black coat gleamed like oil. Soon, he thought, we will have everything we need. The breeze ruffled his hair and he stopped pacing, tilting his head to listen to its hidden secrets.

Lights glimmered in the city beneath him like a reflection of the stars above. Soon, Aloysius thought, admiring the beauty of the sleeping cityscape. Soon … .

The breezes furled away before the wings of a cloaked man who skimmed out of the sky and landed a few paces behind Aloysius. The man was cursing even before he folded his wings––the blue-white wings of an angel––into invisibility behind him. Aloysius! Your brother is causing us major grief!

Don’t shout, Aloysius admonished mildly, not bothering to turn.

That inspired another bout of cursing. But he is hunting our demons! How are we supposed to expand our armies if he keeps feeding on our new recruits?

The man’s angry footsteps approached Aloysius from behind and he sighed. Why did the beauty of the city have to be ruined by such vitriol? It had been so perfect.

If not for him, the cloaked man said angrily, this would have been finished long ago! You’re too lenient, Aloysius. Aloysius half-turned as he flung back his hood to reveal an aged face framed by hair once dark, now striped dramatically with white. Your brother is a threat, he growled, stabbing Aloysius in the chest with a finger. Deal with it.

Smiling, Aloysius brushed the acrimonious finger away. I told you I would handle the matter personally, Brenholic. You chose to act contrarily. Perhaps you should stop complaining about losing men and start investing more effort into training your demonlings. Brenholic stiffened, but Aloysius raised a placating hand. Don’t worry. He won’t be intervening much longer.

Doesn’t matter, Brenholic snorted. "He’s lost us so much already. What am I supposed to do, Aloysius? It seems like I’m the only one trying here! I won’t lose any more of my servants because of your negligence! His voice grated, going low. I’m beginning to think your plans deviate from mine."

Aloysius laughed softly. Relax. All will be well. Do you have the pendant?

Brenholic slipped a silver chain from around his neck, letting the blue stone on its end drop into Aloysius’ palm. I’ll need it back after you’re done with it tomorrow.

As we agreed. Aloysius ran the blue stone beneath his thumb, admiring its purity. After ten years he finally had it back. Don’t let it into the rat’s hands or he’ll lose it again. He slid the chain around his neck and tucked the pendant beneath his coat. Be sure to never let my brother know you have this, once I’m done with it. He’ll cause no end of trouble.

Like he did last time, Brenholic grunted.

Yes, like he did last time. With regards to the princess, the best method is to draw her out. But––mind you––I need her alive. She is no use to us dead.

So? What do you propose?

A cunning smile lifted the corners of Aloysius’ mouth. What is the one thing angels simply can’t ignore? He raised a finger. Their compassion for humankind. This is their greatest weakness, and our greatest weapon.

She won’t come alone, Brenholic pointed out truculently. "Not with us having just attacked one of their Pillar nations. The Supreme Council may be unresponsive thus far, but Haven isn’t unaware of the humans’ plight. Our demons feed on human souls, Prince Euclid comes after them, and the princess––the princess may be sitting in Lumiere studying governance, Aloysius, but she’s worked up about the whole crisis. If she had her way she’d fly down here with every soldier from Haven, Staezzarud, Vithen, and Daetheia combined. Give her seven more weeks, and she’ll have the authority to try."

I know. Aloysius’ blue eyes glittered. In fact, that’s part of the plan. Let them come to us, and I will pick them off one by one. There’s no way the Four Pillars are uniting anytime soon. Not with border relations between Haven and Staezzarud what they are. Let the princess and her friends come. Their essences will strengthen our demons.

Brenholic scowled, the expression cutting stringent lines in his weathered face. It had better be so, he muttered, looking out over the city.

And you had better recognize who you’re speaking to, Aloysius retorted, and begin to treat me with proper respect. This alliance ends as soon as we both have what we want, Brenholic. After that you’d better stay out of my way. He loosened his hold on the power inside him ever so slightly, letting his eyes glow scarlet.

Brenholic curse and flinched away. Don’t let it out, Aloysius! It’s dangerous!

I am master of the Red Ripple, Aloysius smiled. And of you as well. So? You’ll stay out of my way once we’re finished?

You won’t have to worry about that, Brenholic glowered.

Aloysius laughed cryptically, smothering the Ripple. The last person who said that to me I ended up dismembering, so choose your words carefully, and your actions even more so. I am not my father, Brenholic. Remember that.

Turning from the edge of the roof, Aloysius approached the girl who stood in the shadow of an air vent, a hood drawn low over her face. She was so still the darkness almost hid her. Aloysius lifted her head with two fingers under her chin. I’m counting on you, he said softly.

The girl dipped her head in the barest of nods, face shadowed but for a slash of starlight that cut across her mouth and chin, illuminating lips full and red as a budding rose. They always reminded Aloysius of heartblood. Reverently, he leaned in to kiss them.

Great things are coming, he whispered. Succeed tomorrow, and you have proven that you are capable of holding your own against the future.

Straightening away from the hooded girl, Aloysius pointed to a group of women with masks and crimson eyes. He paced back to the edge of the roof, cloak flaring theatrically behind him. Tomorrow, he announced, we wreak havoc on Haven! Tomorrow everything moves––the gears turn, the machine spits to life! Our conquest begins … . not with death, but with the loyalty of a friend.

The women howled, pounding their clenched fists toward the sky. Bolts of ruby light lanced into the heavens.

You sure you know what to do? Brenholic asked, nodding to the hooded girl.

Of course. The girl’s voice dripped sweet venom. I know what I’m about. The plan will work.

Excellent.

Excellent indeed, Aloysius thought, striding to the edge of the building. His wings sprang to life behind him.

Spectral wings––visible during flight or fighting but otherwise transparent––let angels and demons walk the streets of Horizon without detection by the humans. That was what made humans such easy prey. If a demon was careful they could pass as a human for months––even years––without being discovered.

Aloysius did not pause to admire the cityscape. He did not pause to gaze down at the reeling drop. Tipping over the edge, he let the wind and its pure melodies catch him in their embrace.

SOVEREIGN

Remember, Brenholic said, "the wisdom of the Supremes is to be