Armageddon (Angelbound) (28 page)

“Please stay.” Dad’s gaze locks with mine, and understanding shines in his blue eyes. “I know what you’re going through, Myla. I spent nearly twenty years in Hell. It’ll help to talk about it.” He gestures to the leather chair across from his desk. “Besides, Cissy left some brownies.”

Ah, my father knows me too well. I smile.

“Home-made?” Cissy’s cooking skills are nothing less than legendary.

“Just dropped them off today.” Dad slides a cardboard box to the edge of his desk. “Fudge almond.”

“Okay, that settles it.” I step into the room, sink down into the leather armchair, and start chomping away. “This is Heaven.”

“Where’s your mother?”

I speak through a mouthful of brownie. Not ladylike, but fudge almond is my favorite. “Trying to get Maxon to fall asleep.”

“Still?”

“He’s on another no-sleep-athon. Now he’s up to—” I check the nearest clock, silently making calculations. “Fifty-six hours now. I was with him for the last eight and, well, I had to take a break.”

“He’s worried about Hildy.”

“Yeah, Maxon’s convinced that if he goes to sleep, Hildy will forget to wake up.”

“And his flashbacks?”

“Still happening. If he gets into a confined space, he loses control. Thinks he’s back in his cell.” I shake my head sadly. “It breaks my heart, Dad.”

“Anything we can do to help?”

“You’re already doing so much. I really appreciate you and Mom coming to Antrum. It’s not easy running Purgatory from here, and you’ve been away a week already.”

“A week, a month, a year, it makes no difference,” says Dad. “We’ll be with you until you kick us out because you don’t need us anymore. Besides, I think the quasi population would riot if we were anywhere else. They’re very fond of Maxon, you know.”

“True.” Our home in Purgatory is almost submerged in flowers and candles.

Dad leans back in his chair and eyes me closely. “So, what happened, Myla-la?”

My chest tightens. I’ve been dreading answering to this question almost as much as I’ve been wanting to set the words free.

“I don’t know where to begin.” I decide that now is a really good time to check how my cuticles are doing. Yup, still there.

Dad’s voice is gentle. “Take your time.”

Stop pussyfooting around, Myla.
You can do this.

“I have a gift for you.” Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. This whole conversation makes me restless. It’s like I could crawl out of my own skin. “At first, I thought it would be a good thing to give this to you but then, I worried it might bring back bad memories.”

My father shoots me one of his trademark toothy grins. “I welcome any gift from my daughter.”

I let out an awkward chuckle. “Wait until you see it.” Slipping my hand behind my back, I pull an item from the waistband of my jeans, and set it gingerly onto the desktop. “It’s your old baculum.”

Dad’s toothy smile disappears. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches forward, his fingertips brushing along the baculum’s carved surface. “The Almighty gave this to me when I was created. My baculum.” His voice breaks. “I never thought I’d see it again.”

My father rises to his feet, his golden wings appearing down his back. He takes the baculum in both fists, igniting the blade as a long-sword. With blinding speed, he starts running through battle moves, including a bunch of fancy jabs that are part of the Dawn Crucible, a special type of archangel battle training. After a few minutes he pauses, holding the hilt at eye level, watching the blade crackle with angelfire in the dim light. A look of ultimate satisfaction glitters in his blue eyes. His gaze locks on mine. “Tell me you killed him with this.”

“Nefer and I did. Together.”

Dad extinguishes the baculum and retakes his seat. “Oh, ho! I want a blow-by-blow account.”

“Sure, but first I have to ask about something else.” I straighten my shoulders and stiffen my resolve.
I can talk about this.

“What is it, Myla?”

“It’s about Connor.” I fidget in my seat. “I think his soul may be trapped in Hell.”

“It is, Myla.” Dad folds his hands onto the tabletop, which is his ‘I mean business’ move. “Connor’s permanently tied to the torture pits. I’m so sorry.”

My body feels numb with shock. This can’t be right. Dad was supposed to find us a way out of this mess. “Aldred told me Connor was doomed to Hell, but I hoped we could change that. You know, pull Connor out to Purgatory or something. Get him a Trial by Jury. I thought you could help.”

“I wish I could, Myla-la. I did some digging while you were gone. I found out everything. Connor died while Sakura was still alive, so now his soul is trapped in the torture pits.”

“I was afraid of that.” I rub my neck in a weary rhythm. “What are we going to do?”

Dad’s big blue eyes fill with sympathy. “I think you already know that.”

A lead weight of dread settles into my stomach. “I need to summon Connor to a dreamscape and offer to kill his soul.” My throat tightens with a mixture of exhaustion and grief. “That’s the best I can do to help him.” My body trembles. I’ve only been out of the hospital a week; I’m not sure I can handle a killer dreamscape with Hell. Still, I can’t stand to think of Connor in pain.

Dad reaches across the table and sets his hand on mine. “You’re in no shape to dreamscape with Connor, Myla.”

“He can’t stay in Hell and be tortured, either.”

“I’ll see what I can do about putting him somewhere less painful, at least for a little while. It’s not a permanent option but it will buy you some time. Nefer owes me more than a few favors, anyway.”

“Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it.”

“Now, let’s return to more pleasant subjects.” Dad slides the brownie box closer and takes a peek inside. “Empty.” He rises to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. Your mother stocked the freezer with new ice cream from Earth.”

My brows lift with interest. Humans suck at a lot of things, but dessert isn’t one of them. “I scoured that kitchen. Where’s she hiding it?”

He offers me his arm. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I stand beside him and wrap my hand around his forearm. “Lead the way, General.”

# # #

It’s late by the time I slip back into my bedchambers, my belly filled with five different kinds of ice cream. Mom has finally gotten Maxon to sleep, but my mother ended up having to hold him in her lap like I did that first day in the hospital. The smile on her face says she doesn’t mind, but I can’t help but worry. Holding Maxon through the night isn’t exactly a scalable solution. Still, it’s better than nothing.

I tiptoe across the floor to our bed, but as I get closer, I realize I needn’t have bothered staying quiet. Lincoln’s wide-awake, too, staring at the ceiling with red-rimmed eyes. I slide under the covers and curl into his side.

“Dad confirmed it.” I don’t need to explain what ‘it’ is.
Connor’s soul is trapped in Hell.

“We can’t even bring him to Purgatory for a Trial?”

“No. Dad will talk to Nefer. Maybe we can get Connor placed somewhere comfortable until I can dreamscape with him.”

“Until
we
can dreamscape with him.”

I cuddle deeper into his side. “And what if Connor wants his soul to die?”

“Then, I’ll do it.” Lincoln’s voice breaks as he speaks. “And I’ll tell Mother about Sakura, too. She needs to know everything before she faces him for the last time.”

“No,
we’ll
tell her about it.”

Lincoln loops his long arms around me, pulling me onto his bare chest. “I love you, Myla.”

“I love you, too.”

A few minutes pass with our bodies entwined and souls finding a little bit of peace. Before long, we both fall into a deep and restful sleep.

It’s who-knows-what-o’clock in the morning, and Maxon is dragging me down a darkened corridor in Arx Hall. We thought that staying in Antrum would put his little mind at ease about Hildy, but if anything, being close to her has made him even more agitated.

As long as I’m awake, she won’t forget to wake up, either.
Classic kid logic, and I can’t talk him out of it. At least, he’s not having one of his flashbacks again. I found him cowering in the corner of his bedroom this morning, crying about the dark. Makes me want to weep too, every time.

“Come on, Mommy. Faster!” Maxon’s black hair sticks up at odd angles, as do the lapels on his striped pajamas.

I start to jog. “Okay, baby. But remember our deal?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

We turn down another hallway, taking the well-known path to the infirmary. “What’s the deal, then?”

“I see Hildy one more time and then, I go to sleep.”

“Okay, as long as we’re agreed.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

We reach the set of white doors that mark the entrance to the infirmary. Maxon presses them open, and then rushes inside. The place looks like it always does. White tiled floor and walls, tall arched ceilings. Maxon navigates his way through the maze of beds to a silver door along the back wall. Hildy’s private suite.

Stepping inside the room, we find a trio of familiar faces inside: one night nurse and two security guards. The steady ping of Hildy’s heart monitor fills the air. Her tiny body lies curled up on the bed.

My heart clenches in my chest. Hildy looks so small and frail.

A pang of guilt thrums through me, thinking back to the lively, feisty girl who came to my chamber door about two weeks and a million years ago. She barely spent two days with Maxon before she put her life on the line for him. And now, she may spend the rest of her life on this bed, all in a bid to help save our son. I’m grateful and angry and incredibly sad, all at once.

Maxon waves to the red-haired nurse. “Hi, Emily!”

“Good morning, Prince Maxon.” Emily turns and bows to me. “Your Highness.”

I eye Emily from head to toe. It’s hard to believe that this is the same young nurse we met the first day we saw Hildy in the infirmary. To her credit, Emily has worked extra hard to make up for her initial disregard for Hildy. I notice the new, larger bed that Hildy’s sleeping on. Emily’s handiwork, no doubt

Meanwhile, Maxon eyes the two guards suspiciously. “You two are new.”

They stiffen their stance, clicking their black booted heels together. The taller of the two speaks. “King Lincoln himself assigned us here. We’ve got family in Rixa as well as Striga.”

Maxon folds his arms over his chest. When it comes to Hildy, he’s very security conscious. “Show me.”

The taller guard holds his hand out, palm facing upward. A purple flame dances up from his skin. Maxon nods approvingly. “You’re both are okay, I guess.” He turns his attention to the sleeping Hildy. Her black hair has grown out, showing long blonde roots. Her hands curl under her chin, the black fingernails now half-free of paint. I inhale a shaky breath. Hildy did so much to protect Maxon. Will she ever wake up?

Maxon presses his fingers onto the edge of the mattress. “Why the new bed?”

“It’s bigger,” explains Emily. “Now you can sit next to her while you read her stories.”

Maxon’s face lights up, his mismatched eyes glimmering with excitement. “Wow, that’s great!” He scampers up onto the mattress and sits down beside Hildy, who doesn’t so much as flinch. “Do you have my book, Emily?”

“Sure do.” Emily scans the piles of toys and books stacked around the room. She hands Maxon a dog-eared copy of ‘The House of Horus.’

Maxon whips open the first page and starts reading. “Once up on a time, there was a thrax prince named Horus…”

While Maxon’s busy reading his story, I pull Emily aside. “Any change?”

Emily shakes her head. “No improvement.”

“We can’t keep Maxon in Antrum much longer. He isn’t getting any sleep and Hildy isn’t getting any better.” I exhale a long sigh. “We’ll need to pack up Maxon’s things later today. We leave for Purgatory in the morning.”

Suddenly, the steady ping of Hildy’s heart monitor goes into a fast drumroll. Maxon drops into a crouch so he’s eye-to-eye with Hildy. “Do you like my story, Hildy?” He presses closer until his nose almost touches hers. “I’m going to stay here and talk to you, just like you stayed in my head and talked to me. You’re going to get better Hildy, wait and see.” He sits back up, reopens his book and starts from the beginning. “Once upon a time…”

I pull Emily aside again. The ping of Hildy’s heart rate goes faster. “Has this happened before?”

Emily shakes her head, her eyes wide with surprise. “Never.”

I frown. “You don’t think it’s because of what we were talking about, do you?”

“I don’t know.”

One way to find out. I turn to Maxon and say in a loud voice. “We’ll stay right here in Antrum, Maxon, until Hildy wakes up.”

The heart monitor immediately slows to a steady beat. I share a look of surprise and excitement with Emily.

“I think she heard us,” I say.

Emily smiles from ear to ear. “I think so, too, Your Highness. Should I try another revival serum?”

“No, those haven’t worked and it only upsets Maxon. Whatever we’re doing, it’s working, so let’s not mess with it.” My chest lightens with a sense of joy and relief. I can’t believe it. The first signs of light and life from Hildy.

Maxon’s gaze snaps to mine. “Of course, she heard you, Mommy. I did too.” He pats Hildy’s head, his mouth set in a protective line. “Don’t worry, Hildy. I’m not going anywhere.”

The wave of relief I felt before transforms into a sense of overwhelming exhaustion. I slump over to the chair beside Hildy’s bed and sink in. As Maxon continues his story, I watch Hildy’s eyes flicker beneath closed lids. It’s the first time I’ve seen any motion in her face in what feels like ages.

Curling forward, I set my forehead into my palms, grief and joy tightening my throat in waves. I stifle the urge to sob, but tears still wet my cheeks.

Maxon’s right. Hildy may actually recover.

Hell, so might all of us.

I lie back in bed, close my eyes, and start the dreamscape. My jaw clenches with anxious energy and I wish I were somewhere, anywhere, doing anything but this. However, the truth is unavoidable. I’ve been putting off this dreamscape with Connor long enough.