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The Warlord Season: The Covalent Series, #4
The Warlord Season: The Covalent Series, #4
The Warlord Season: The Covalent Series, #4
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The Warlord Season: The Covalent Series, #4

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Tyranny often comes from within. Beware the warlord.

 

The battle in the Destructive Realm is over and Zan O'Gara wants to love her mate in peace, but nothing is ever simple when it comes to the Covalent.

​With many warriors wounded or exhausted by the fight, a new villain sees an opportunity to take power. He imprisons the Council and the healers. He hunts any warrior who refuses to submit to his authority. He throws Pellus' mate into the Wasteland Dungeons.

 

An attempt on Barakiel's life while he is in the healing sleep forces Zan and Pellus to flee to the Earthly Realm with the warrior long before he recovers from his wounds. Despite his injuries and loss of Balance, Barakiel pledges to reunite Pellus with his beloved. He vows the warlord will pay for this injustice in blood.

 

WARNING: This book contains foul language, violence, and explicit sex. Adults only! This is not a stand-alone novel, but the fourth in a five-part series. All other books in this romantic science fantasy are now available. The Covalent Series is complete!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLibby Doyle
Release dateJun 16, 2020
ISBN9780997298581
The Warlord Season: The Covalent Series, #4
Author

Libby Doyle

Libby Doyle escapes real life by writing extravagant tales, filled with adventure, sex, and violence. When not tapping away at her fiction, she's been known to work as an attorney and a journalist. Libby loves absurd humor, travel, punk rock, and her husband. She is the author of The Covalent Series, an epic science fantasy in five parts.

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    The Warlord Season - Libby Doyle

    Also by Libby Doyle

    The Passion Season

    The Pain Season

    The Vengeance Season

    Nuzan

    Learn more at libbydoyle.com.

    I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,

    Taught by the heav’nly Muse to venture down

    The dark descent, and up to reascend.

    – John Milton, Paradise Lost

    COVALENT BOND

    A bond in which one or more pairs of electrons are shared by two atoms to create a stable balance of attractive and repulsive forces.

    COVALENT PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

    Rainer (ry•ner) Barakiel (ba•rack•ē•el)

    Pellus (pel•les)

    Remiel (rem•ē•el)

    Abraxos (ah•brax•sōs)

    Osmadiel (oz•mod•ē•el)

    Ravellen Ravellen (ra•vel•en)

    Donoreth (don•or•eth)

    Thanis (than•is)

    Camael (kam•ā•el)

    Galizur (gal•ih•zer)

    Larethael (la•reth•ā•el)

    Yahoel (yah•hō•el)

    PROLOGUE

    I SLEPT SO WELL within the sound of your heartbeat, the sound of death receding. I wish I could take off this helmet, feel your skin. When you’re healed, we’ll lie naked together for days. Days. The only duty we’ll have will be to each other.

    A fire of light. The Sylvan Three in a trance beside you, here in the Turning. I don’t even understand what I’m seeing. Like we’re sitting at the center of a giant plasma generator. Jagged bolts of purple and silver penetrate the healers’ bodies. They answer with feathers of hot, white radiance. I feel their joy. Through you, I remember their power. The power of Creation. All that Destruction in you, it kept you alive. We owe it a debt, but it’s time to let some of it go now, Rainer. The Three can lead you to Balance.

    PART I ♦ AFTERMATH

    CHAPTER 1

    ZAN O’GARA adjusted herself on the medic’s sled. A new phase in Rainer’s healing was about to begin. She prayed she didn’t have to leave him for the Sylvan Three to finish their work. That she could stay by his side when they returned to their chambers in Covalent City, where he would enter a deep healing sleep in comfort and under their protection.

    Please tell me I can keep my hands on him.  

    Her helmet in the crook of his arm, she snuggled closer, vaguely aware of shouts coming from inside the Turning, beyond the bands of silver and amethyst light at its edge that pulsed all around her. The voices grew frantic. Reluctantly, she rose to her feet.

    Have the Corrupted mounted one last desperate attack?

    Weapon in hand, she moved out of the wall of light. She felt good. Strong. She didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping within the sound of Rainer’s beating heart, but it had done her wonders. She emerged from the swirls of light to find Remiel and Pellus huddled together, their eyes glued to an approaching line of Covalent warriors.

    Pellus, Commander Remiel, Zan said. "What is happening? An attack?

    We do not know, Pellus answered. We cannot tell the nature of the shouts we hear.

    Those warriors must be from one of the reserve battalions, Remiel said. Perhaps they have come to safeguard the sector.

    When the roughly thirty-strong contingent had nearly reached them, no one came to address Commander Remiel per the normal protocol. Instead, they plunged into the wall of light. Zan fiddled with her weapon.

    I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

    Evidently, so did Remiel, who ran into the radiance, pulling her sword from beneath her robes. Zan and Pellus sprinted after her. Zan gasped to find warriors surrounding the Sylvan Three. A few grabbed their arms, disrupting their trance. The healers’ thrashed their delicate heads, the pure halo of their healing power transformed into fury that flashed from their silver eyes.

    What is going on here? Remiel demanded, striding forward. Unhand the Sylvan Three! Let them finish their work.

    Their work here is finished. High Commander Galizur passed from behind his personal detail, his spotless armor revealing he had rested in comfort during the hideous battle with Lucifer’s Corrupted. He motioned to his warriors, who sped off with the Sylvan Three in their clutches. The healers screeched in rage.

    They are not to waste their power on this criminal, Galizur said. He pointed to Rainer, still unconscious on the medic’s sled. Kill him.

    Two warriors stepped forward with swords raised. Remiel and Pellus gaped at the high commander, but Zan felt no shock. Only clarity of purpose. She ran in front of Remiel, pressed the emerald function on her blaster, and used its fine laser to cut the two warriors’ heads clean off, one after the other. Now, it was Galizur’s turn to gape. As his personal detail swarmed and pulled him to the ground, Zan used the opal multitargeting function on her weapon to put a hurting on nearly half the assembled Covalent. She knew Rainer wouldn’t want her to kill them if she didn’t have to. They were only following orders.

    I’d kill that no-neck bastard Galizur if I could get a shot at him.

    Pellus, get him to a rift! Zan shouted, taking a position between Rainer and the warriors now rushing from the rear. She secured Rainer’s sword on his sled, then fired. The warriors fell, but the others had recovered from the relatively weak blast the weapon could deliver against multiple targets. Galizur and his personal detail also surged toward her.

    Not caring a whit that she lacked armor, Remiel charged with a ferocious shriek to engage Galizur and his squad. Zan dared not use the multitargeting function with the commander so close. She returned to emerald to take out their enemies with laser slices at their legs.

    Help me! Pellus bellowed from behind her. I cannot pull him quickly enough! Warriors are approaching in force!

    Zan didn’t know whether the topaz function on her trusty blaster—which expelled spent fuel to shoot her with incredible speed from one place to another—could get them to the rift. Before she could find out, Remiel scooped her up like she was a sack of potatoes and ran toward where Pellus stood over Rainer. The commander tossed Zan and Pellus on the sled and took off. Pellus directed her as Zan targeted their pursuers to slow them down. In a few bright pulses of the Turning, they passed into the kinetic rift.

    When Zan traveled the rifts, her connection with Rainer usually lit her brain in a three-dimensional lattice of tendrils that looked like neurons firing in a hundred shades of red. Her mind invented the images as a way to cope with the sensory vacuum inside the flows of dark energy Pellus used to travel the cosmos. This time, her sense of Rainer’s power was intermittent, bolts of jagged lightning swallowed by bulbous gray clouds. Rage fuzzed like static at the edges of her awareness. Rainer’s time in the healing sleep had been cut short. Destruction pooled in his consciousness like a heavy-metal contaminant.

    Is it a poison or a power? After all, it kept him alive.

    When they exited the rift in Philadelphia, Pellus collapsed on the ground beside the sled. Zan thanked the stars above that they’d emerged in the compound. In his weakened state, it may have taken Pellus some time to conceal them under his curtain of refracted light.

    A second later, Rainer convulsed, moaning, his eyes fluttering. Zan clung to him. What’s happening to him? Please save him. Please. She sobbed. Without the Turning’s power, he’s dying. He’s dying!

    Pellus scrambled upright, his face a crumpled mess. I do not know what to do. I am tired. So tired.

    Electricity! Zan shouted, jumping to her feet. Remember the trains, Pellus? That time the demons sabotaged the trains? You did something with the electrical system that Rainer used to get stronger. Can you do it again?

    He stared at her wide-eyed then looked around the yard. Thank the Guardians, there is a transformer there. He pointed to a pole just outside the compound. It should be simple to draw the magnetic flux toward Barakiel. I will try. He positioned himself midway between the transformer and the warrior on his sled. Remiel, we do not want you to draw the power instead of Barakiel, and it might kill Zan, suit or no suit. Please take her some way up the river. You will know when I have finished.

    Before Zan could protest, Remiel snatched her and zoomed along the bank. In a moment, Zan heard a hot pop and a bolt of power arced high into the sky, then down at a sharp angle. The lights that dotted the Betsy Ross Bridge in the distance winked out. Zan heard Rainer’s anguished cry and struggled to escape Remiel’s grasp.

    It is done, the commander said. We will go to him.

    Once back, Zan threw herself on Rainer, who faintly moaned but no longer convulsed.

    He absorbed the power, Pellus said. All of it. He is stable.

    Zan kissed Rainer’s torn face and closed eyes. She stroked his arm. That’s it, honey, she said. You can sleep again. You can heal.

    Pellus stumbled then sat abruptly on the ground. Remiel crouched and grasped his arm. Are you all right? she asked. He nodded, and requested a pulse or two to collect himself.

    Thank you, Pellus, thank you, Zan said, but I need to know—should I call the electric company? That transformer isn’t a hazard to anyone, is it?

    Er, uh, not a hazard, but I caused a blackout. Perhaps widespread. The power drain will mystify them.

    Shit.

    While they spoke in English, Remiel wandered off a few steps to gaze at her alien surroundings. She wore a bemused smile as she examined the black alders at the edge of the yard. Their tear-shaped leaves fluttered in the warm breeze, allowing their pale green undersides to catch the late afternoon sun.

    They flash and whisper, she said.

    I will show you all around the compound later, commander. We need to get Rainer and Pellus in the house so they can rest. Zan spoke Covalent, knowledge she’d acquired since she’d bonded in Union with Rainer.

    Yes, Zan, thank you, Pellus murmured. Some rest. A little rest.

    Remiel reluctantly tore her eyes from the trees and sky, nodded and took up the sled. She managed to carry the unconscious Rainer up to bed. A few minutes later, Pellus was slumbering in the guest room. Zan and Remiel trudged back downstairs. Zan put her blaster in the gun locker in the back storage room. When she came out, Remiel was moving around the airy space, gazing at the paintings and touching the leather furniture. She picked up sculptures and lamps to inspect them, her features locked in a harsh scowl, although Zan suspected it had little to do with the house.

    May I ask you a question, commander? Zan said.

    Please, Zanogara, there is no need to call me commander. I fear I will never march my battalion into battle again.

    Oh no. Zan took a few steps toward her. I think you have anticipated my question. What is happening? Why do you think those warriors tried to kill Rai, er, Barakiel? I know Abraxos and Galizur view him as a threat, but he defeated Lucifer. Did they think they could slaughter him without consequence?

    Remiel stared at Zan for a long time, her jaw tense and a storm in her black eyes. When she spoke, her words were barely audible. There was no one left to stop them.

    Zan wanted to blurt, What the hell are you talking about? but she bit it back. She looked up at the streaked blue rectangle of a skylight, her mind racing. The battle? she said. Is that what you mean? Are the Council Forces who fought in the Destructive Realm so depleted that Abraxos can use the reserve battalions to do whatever he wants?

    Yes, Zanogara. I feel so foolish I could vomit. Remiel strode across the room, worrying the fabric of her dark blue robes. We should have known this would happen. Metatron warned Barakiel and Pellus about this very thing! We knew the Council’s failure to listen to Abraxos had enraged him. Most of the warriors in the reserve battalions are stupidly loyal to him. I fear he will use their misplaced fealty to take over the Realm.

    Take over the Realm? Zan could feel the color draining from her face. He would not dare.

    I do not know what Abraxos will dare. I think the death of his mate has driven him mad. Certainly, given that he tried to kill Barakiel, he will not hesitate to mark Barakiel’s closest allies for assassination as well. If I show my face in the Realm, I could be arrested and summarily executed. Remiel clenched her fists. I should have killed that worm when I had the chance.

    Do not blame yourself, Remiel. No one hates Abraxos more than Barakiel, but even he did not suspect this. Metatron said Abraxos truly believes Barakiel is a threat to the Realm. We thought he rejected the Council’s decision about the offensive against Lucifer, not its right to rule.

    We handed him the perfect opportunity. Remiel hid her face with her hand. Oh, Osmadiel, my friend, she said. I would rather have fallen myself in the battle with Lucifer than lose you. How I wish you were with me. I need your strength. Your wisdom.

    Remiel sounded so grief-stricken that Zan had no idea what to do. Please, commander. Do not assume the worst. We are safe for now. You should rest.

    I do not need to rest, Zanogara. I was fortunate enough to be fully healed before you returned from the Destructive Realm. However, I do wish to be alone. The events of the past few turns have caught up with me.

    Of course.

    Zan showed her to the weapons room, where she could relax in a comfortable armchair. Remiel stood quiet in a pool of sunshine that poured in through one of the south-facing windows as she looked over Rainer’s weapons collection, an array of swords, axes, pikes, and halberds that gleamed in the vibrant yellow light.

    Fascinating.

    These weapons represent hundreds of, um, tens of thousands of phases of human martial history, Zan said. Amazing to see them all in one place.

    Remiel nodded. They are beautiful. The Covalent looked like she was about to cry. Zan padded to the door.

    The collection must remind her of High Commander Osmadiel.

    I will leave you to your thoughts, commander. Call me if you need anything.

    Thank you, Zanogara, and please call me Remiel.

    All right, Remiel. Call me Zan. They shared melancholy smiles and Zan departed. She slipped into the room with Rainer. His pulse was strong. She slathered his torn face with kisses and lovingly kneaded his ravaged limbs. Fear pooled in her gut, despite the injection of power he’d received. She knew his deep sleep was normal, but she didn’t know how his incomplete healing would leave him.

    Whatever happens, he’s alive, and sleep can do nothing but help. I have to believe that. When Pellus wakes up he’ll know what to do.

    Barely taking her eyes from Rainer, Zan took off her suit, hung it in the walk-in closet, and realized she had no idea if it required maintenance. Another question for Pellus. She took a long, hot shower, slipped into yoga pants and a T-shirt, and plopped into a comfy chair to gaze at her sleeping mate. After a few minutes, she realized she was ravenously hungry. She went downstairs, fixed the flashing microwave that told her they’d restored the power, and made herself a sandwich. She switched on the television. A half-chewed bit of sandwich fell out of her mouth.

    Oh my god, no, no, no.

    She’d turned on the local news, which aired video of demons being killed and National Guard vehicles rounding the plaza in front of Philadelphia City Hall. The anchorwoman explained that martial law was to remain in place nationwide until the authorities were satisfied that no more creatures would appear. At this point, the call would come from Washington, D.C. The president was conferring with his overseas counterparts as leaders the world over tried to cope with the unprecedented attack, which some were calling an alien invasion and others the wrath of God.

    Zan watched with a gob of spit, bread, and cheese in her mouth, unable to move.

    The world will never be the same.

    Just as Remiel thought she should have known what Abraxos would do, Zan told herself she should have seen this coming. No sooner had the thought formed than she searched madly for her phone, grabbed it, and dialed Mel, her former FBI partner.

    Zan? Mel’s voice was strong and alive and about one of the best things Zan had ever heard in her life. Thank Mary, mother of Christ, Mel said. I thought I’d never see you again.

    The demons, Mel! My god, what happened?

    What do you think? They came through at the solstice. I think they used every rift branch in the world.

    Are you all right? Lucy? Emmett? So many people must have died. What about our colleagues? You must have been on the front lines! Is everyone all right? Are those things still running—

    Stop, Zan! Let me talk!

    With a sharp intake of breath, Zan cut off her panicked words. Sorry. Please, talk to me.

    Lucy and Emmett are fine. So am I, but now I need you to tell me what happened in the Covalent Realm. Are we going to go through the same thing at the equinox?

    Lucifer is dead. Rainer killed him. We’re safe, Mel. Thanks to him, we’re all safe. Zan tried not to blubber.

    I knew he could do it! That’s my badass boy! Is he all right?

    I think so. He’s badly injured, but we got him to the Covalent healers in time. They saved his life, but he’s sleeping now and he will be for days. It’s how the Covalent recover. I promise I’ll tell you the whole insane tale soon enough, but give me some time. I feel weird. None of it seems real, now that I’m sitting here in my house. I feel a little crazy if you want to know the truth.

    I understand.

    Please, you have to tell me about everyone else. Our colleagues? Jamal? Are they okay?

    All the FBI people made it. Jamal is fine. Philly PD’s detectives weren’t really involved, but I can’t say the same for S.W.A.T. Some of those guys died trying to stop the demons before they knew what they were dealing with. Uh, Ken Foster, Julian Rangel. They were so brave, Zan. Mel’s voice broke.

    I’m so sorry, Mel. I’m sorry.

    Look what I’ve brought down on the world.

    It’s not your fault. Please don’t think it is. And anyway, thanks to you, I could help. I told them what I knew, even if I couldn’t tell them how I knew it. We got them, Zan. I took out five with a Remington, from a helicopter. Every single one of those ugly sons-a-bitches is dead. At least in this area.

    You killed five? From a helicopter? You’re amazing. You’re a total fucking hero.

    Ha! Nguyen says that now, too. Your crazy shit has been supplanted with even crazier shit.

    Which is just more of my crazy shit.

    Stop it, Zan, please.

    How many people died?

    Locally, we’re still figuring it out, but it’s in the hundreds. Worldwide? Tens of thousands.

    Zan couldn’t speak.

    Listen to me, Mel said in a soothing voice. By the time you understood the situation, it was already too late. Lucifer already knew that Rainer loves you. That he cares about humans. It’s not your fault. At all. Not at all.

    I know. I just, uh, I can’t cope. I can’t. I can’t talk anymore. After teary goodbyes, Zan sobbed to end all sobbing. Everything she’d been holding together over the past few days came apart like a sugar cube in boiling water. Remiel must have heard her. She came down from the weapon’s room.

    Are you all right, Zan?

    I have no idea. Zan rubbed her eyes and sniffled. She had to get herself together enough to make some calls. To her brothers. The boys in the band. To Kurt and Malcolm.

    Please, please be all right.

    Zan couldn’t deal with telling Remiel what she’d just learned. Not at the moment. She hurried into the kitchen for a tissue. Enough of that, she said after a minute, dabbing at her face and taking gulps of air. Are you hungry, Remiel? You can look around and pick something that looks edible to you.

    I could not possibly eat. May we go outside? I think the whispering trees will make us both feel better.

    I think you are right. You go outside and I will join you in a little while. I have to contact some humans that I know.

    As was his habit, Pellus kept his eyes closed for some time after he woke. The fog of sleep lifted more easily if he limited his sensory intake. He had to steady himself or he would fall apart.

    Jeduthan, my beloved mate. Have I lost you? Guardian save me, I cannot go on without you. Please be alive.

    Physically, Pellus felt restored. He prayed his emotions would not impair his abilities. He stretched in the huge bed, where he’d slept many times before. It smelled different now, an earthly scent he knew. Lavender.

    Zan must like it.

    Zan. He could hardly believe the things she’d done in the Destructive Realm to save her mate, her strength of will and courage. His chest ached when he remembered what a fool he’d been, how he’d tried to keep them apart. How he hadn’t trusted Barakiel to choose a mate wisely. He understood now—Zan was a fine match for the mightiest warrior in the Realm. The two of them would stop at nothing to recover Jeduthan if she’d been taken by their enemies. He knew.

    They will die for me. I must have faith.

    He opened his eyes to gaze at haunting images of mountains shrouded in mist, a palette of pale blues and grays. They hadn’t been hanging on the walls the last time Pellus used the room.

    Perhaps these photographs depict Zan’s home. Barakiel told me she comes from the mountains.

    Pellus focused on the images as he considered the attempt on Barakiel’s life and everything it could mean. He could sense his warrior asleep in the next room, his energy signature weak and erratic, even after the infusion of power he’d received outside. With a thumping heart, Pellus fought to quash his panic. As soon as he walked out that bedroom door, Zan and Remiel would look to him for answers. For ideas. He examined the light slanting through the windows. He’d slept for nearly an entire earthly day. They would be anxious. He rose.

    In the shower, he let the hot water seep into his stiff muscles. He focused on its pleasant sound, but it failed to ease his mind. Everything they’d accomplished would mean nothing without Jeduthan.

    How could I have been so stupid? Of course, Abraxos would avenge his mate. How could I have not seen this?

    The shower carried away his tears. He would allow his emotions to pour out of him like water, here, where no one would witness his weakness. And his weakness would be banished.

    Once dry, Pellus donned his chestnut brown robes. They also smelled like lavender. Zan must have washed them for him. With his hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath, then thought better of heading downstairs just yet. He sat on the bed, closed his eyes, and considered how his conversation with Zan and Remiel might transpire. When he felt like he could face them, he left the room. He was needed.

    The two of them sat on stools at the kitchen counter as the shadows deepened and the skylights showed the violet-hued sky of the approaching sunset. They had their fingers on the pages of a magazine. It seemed as though Zan was giving Remiel an English lesson. They jumped up at the site of Pellus, as he knew they would. Zan ran to him and took his hand.

    How are you feeling, Pellus? Do you need anything? Coffee? Food? She spoke in his language, except for the coffee. The Covalent had no word for it.

    I am holding on, Zan. Thank you. I feel rested. I will need food soon, but right now I would love some coffee.

    Zan has introduced me to coffee. I find if I drink enough, the effects are similar to belnen, Remiel said, referring to a glowing orange soup made by Covalent artisans from a fungus that grew on the underside of rocks.

    Yes, a mild stimulant, Pellus answered. Remiel leaned toward him, her black eyes boring into him like she expected him to pronounce their fates at any moment. Pellus appreciated her effort at small talk, as well as Zan’s concern with his well-being. He would ease their tension. We need to discuss events in the Covalent Realm. We need to discuss what we are going to do.

    Remiel exhaled and sat back against her stool. Yes, we do. As I have told Zan, I fear Abraxos may attempt to take over the Realm because the Council Forces are too depleted to stop him.

    Balance help me, Pellus said. I had not thought that far. My concern has been only for Jeduthan.

    Zan left the gurgling coffee maker to run to him. She grasped his hand. Do you think Abraxos would hurt her?

    Pellus was afraid that if he spoke, he would fall into her. Zan hugged him. We’ll rescue her, she said in English. Rainer will wake up soon. You know him. Nothing will stop him.

    He returned her hug, certain her thoughts were the same as his.

    Did Barakiel have enough time with the Sylvan Three?

    He will wake up soon, won’t he Pellus? Zan said, her voice fragile and muffled against him. He squeezed her tighter before he straightened and smoothed his robes.

    I am not sure. We should not wake him. Even if he were still with the Sylvan Three, I cannot imagine he would wake for at least five more earthly days. He was nearly dead. His body needs a chance to repair itself. Pellus looked up at the skylight and rubbed his chin. Yes, repair itself, he muttered.

    What are you thinking? Zan asked, once again speaking Covalent.

    The roof. We should bring him to the roof. The night sky holds power, and when the sun rises to shine on the solar array, he will draw its energy. The one-time electrical charge may have stabilized him, but he needs more. Pellus nodded, as if to himself. Barakiel has used the solar array before. When he lost Balance after killing the false monks, he would lie next to it.

    I am so glad you woke up, Zan said. She handed him a steaming mug of coffee, then ran her hand softly along his face. Rainer will rescue Jeduthan. Nothing will stop him.

    Pellus hid his face with the mug, unaccustomed to his emotions getting the better of him. Remiel, he said. Will you be able to carry Barakiel to the roof? I will help you. We must use the steep staircase from the back balcony.

    I think so. Both of you should help.

    And I will stay with him. Sleep beside him, Zan said.

    Yes. He needs his mate. Pellus stared into his coffee, working his mug like a worry stone.

    We will attend to Barakiel in a pulse or two, Remiel said, but right now we need to discuss Abraxos.

    Yes, we do, Pellus pinched the bridge of his nose. You think he is attempting to take over the Realm?

    I think he has probably accomplished it by now, Remiel said. We were fools to leave the battalions loyal to Abraxos intact. Fools. She gripped the edges of the counter so hard she cracked off pieces of the coppery granite. Oh! I am sorry, Zan.

    Do not worry about the counter.

    You may be right, commander, Pellus said, which means we cannot linger here. Abraxos knows where Barakiel lives, and will send warriors to dispatch him the first chance he gets.

    Zan turned abruptly and shuffled around the dishes in the sink. Remiel gaped at Pellus. How in the name of the Guardians does Abraxos know where Barakiel lives?

    It is a long story for another time, Pellus said. We are lucky he has not sent a murder squad already, which leads me to another point. We should not assume the worst. Abraxos may be having difficulty. We need to discover what is happening in the Covalent Realm. I will go there.

    Are you sure you will be able to avoid detection? Remiel asked. The adepts loyal to Abraxos may have set traps for you. If you are discovered, you will be arrested, and very likely executed. When Zan looked sharply at her, she hastened to add, I am sure Jeduthan will escape this fate. She was not involved in the offensive against Lucifer.

    No, Jeduthan will not escape it, not completely, despite your kind assurances. Pellus leaned his elbows on the counter with his forehead in his hands. I have no doubt you are correct about the traps. Jeduthan is their bait. I may not be able to defeat their barriers to rescue her, but they will not detect me. I can cloak myself, and I learned techniques in the Destructive Realm beyond the conception of other adepts.

    I will go with you, Remiel said. I will fight for you should something go wrong.

    No, I must do this alone, commander. I do not know what I will find, and I may not be able to spare the effort to cloak you.

    Remiel nodded and walked deeper into the room, now almost completely dark. Zan switched on the lights and poured herself another cup of coffee as Remiel wandered back to them.

    I understand it will take effort to cloak me, but I may be able to obtain better information than you. If I can find my warriors, they will assist us.

    With a wry smile, Pellus raised his mug toward her. It is true I do not have scores of warriors willing to die for me.

    You have the warrior sleeping upstairs, Zan said. He would die for you.

    Yes, he would. Pellus fixated on the damaged countertop. Remiel had left the shards of granite perched on its edge, so he gathered a mild electromagnetic wave and pushed it to envelop the crumbles of stone. He loosened their bonds until they became a thick liquid that flowed to the damaged bits. He re-solidified the stone, then gathered the granite dust that had settled on the floor or still hung on the air, layering molecule upon molecule until the mass and appearance of the counter was more or less as it had been before.

    At least I can still control the materials in front of my face.

    I will take you to the Covalent Realm, commander, after I have learned Jeduthan’s fate and discovered what they have done with the Sylvan Three, he said. Reconnaissance will make a second trip more useful.

    Good. We have a way forward. Remiel smiled and Pellus felt better. It had been so long since he’d seen her smile he’d forgotten what a sight it was.

    Um, Pellus? There’s something I should tell you, Zan said, reverting to English.

    Why do I get the feeling I will not like it?

    Demons came through the axial rift at the summer solstice. From the number of them worldwide, they must have come through every branch.

    Pellus reeled backward as his vision grayed at its edges. Remiel ran to him, grabbed him by the elbow, and guided him to the couch by the fireplace. He slumped there, his head hanging, as Zan spoke to Remiel in Covalent. He barely heard her.

    All our efforts to remain hidden and Lucifer ruins it in a pulse. I can picture him cackling as he sent his idiot beasts through the rift.

    The cushions beside him shifted. Zan took his hand. Pellus, please, look at me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

    No need to apologize. Pellus straightened and pushed the hair out of his face. You had to tell me, but I have no idea what to do. He squeezed her hand. At that moment she seemed more solid than anything else. I cannot cope. I have reached my limit.

    You don’t need to do anything, Pellus. Mel thinks most of the demons have already been killed. Humans aren’t helpless. We can handle them.

    I am afraid to ask you the theories humans are spinning.

    Zan patted his back. Well, the most prevalent theory is that the demons are signs of God’s wrath. Others think Satan is coming for us. The alien invasion people are outnumbered.

    I do not know if that is bad or good.

    Me neither, but at least no one has advanced the theory that Satan is an alien who’s coming for us.

    "Satan was an alien. Now that he is dead, we can console ourselves with the knowledge that no more demons will come."

    Yes, we can.

    Remiel cleared her

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