I nodded. “It looks that way.”

  “Then he’s not as powerful as he has everyone believe he is,” said Azrael. “He may be the first angel, but after God’s death and the Fall… he’s just as mortal as the rest of us.”

  “Let’s not underestimate him,” Micah put in. “He’s still incredibly powerful—we’ve seen it. But this is certainly an interesting turn of events.”

  “Why interesting?” I asked.

  “Well…” Micah paused. “I think it’s pretty clear there have been some changes since you left us. I, personally, have spent a lot of my time trying to regain some of the abilities I lost after I fell from Heaven. It’s gone quite well.”

  “You sell yourself short,” Azrael said. “Micah’s powers are incredible. If not for him, Lucifer would have destroyed this bastion a long time ago.”

  “You protected them from him?” I asked.

  “I only bolstered the abilities these angels already had. But the point remains, I have regained some of the power I had in Heaven, and given that Lucifer has lost some of his… I don’t want to suggest we could be evenly matched, but…”

  “Maybe you are,” said Hekata. “You have a plan, don’t you? Sneaky little cherub.”

  “Again, only maybe.”

  “Let’s hear it,” I said, “at this point, there are probably no bad ideas.”

  “Well… you know the story of Lucifer’s incarceration, right?”

  “I do. You told me.”

  “I also told you it was the cherubs who built his prison and incarcerated him in the first place, remember?”

  My eyes narrowed. “You did… what are you saying?”

  Micah seemed hesitant to continue, like he was worried about speaking out of turn or saying something incredibly stupid. “If Lucifer has been weakened… if he’s lost some of the power he had while he was in Heaven… I may be able to incarcerate him again.”

  “You what?”

  “I still need to figure out how it could all work, and we’d need to trap him first. I’m working on the specifics. But I think there’s a way forward, here.”

  “Don’t we need Lucifer, first?” asked Azrael. “We have no idea where he is or where he’ll go next.”

  “She wasn’t hard to find,” said Hekata, with a shrug. “Lucifer will be even easier to track down. He’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

  I shook my head. “We won’t have to do any of that.”

  “We won’t?”

  “No… we don’t need to go to Lucifer, because Lucifer will come to us.”

  “You don’t know that,” Azrael said, stiffening. “You can’t know that.”

  “I do. Just as the portal was closing, after the demons made their way through… here… Lucifer told me it had been his plan all along to let them take refuge here. That way he can come to Helena, destroy this place, and kill anyone who dares stand against him once and for all.”

  Azrael looked stunned for a moment, but her expression hardened. “Medrion tried to destroy this place and he failed. Lucifer tried once before, and he also failed. He will fail again.”

  “Maybe…” I said, “But he has something Medrion doesn’t.”

  “What’s that?” asked Micah.

  “He doesn’t care about getting back into Heaven. He doesn’t have a cause, or a mission like Medrion did. He only has one goal, and that’s to kill all of us for the crime of rebelling against him and his ideas.”

  Hekata scoffed. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “If he wants to fight until judgement day,” said Azrael, “then Helena stands ready. We know that he bleeds… and we’re going to make him regret ever coming here.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said. “Because once we’re all gone, there will be no one to stop him from taking this universe and doing whatever he wants with it. He will be worse than Medrion ever was.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  They put him in a cell and told me I couldn’t go see him. I knew Azrael thought she was making the right call by separating us both, but I didn’t even know if he was alive. I supposed they would’ve told me if he had died in his cell, or at least that was what I told myself to stave off the anxiety that came with not knowing.

  I had, at least, had a chance to eat, drink, and have an honest to God shower. It was glorious. I drank a gallon of water, ate a plate covered in sausages, eggs, and vegetables, and felt like I had just washed ten years’ worth of dirt and grime off my skin.

  Never in my entire existence had I ever felt as satisfied as I did, sitting in the small room I had been given. Yes, I was anxious about Abaddon, but I was fed, and watered, and clean for what felt like the first time ever.

  Knowing that Lucifer was likely to show up at the bastion at any moment made it difficult to get any rest, not that I would’ve been able to sleep anyway. I found myself wandering the bastion a lot, touching the vines, the flowers, running my fingers through the various ponds scattered throughout the place.

  Helena was still as beautiful and as full of life as I remembered. That, at least, hadn’t changed. But there was one thing that was different. I had felt it the moment I stepped through the portal, or rather, I’d felt its absence.

  The Beacon of Helena was no longer lit. There was something profoundly sad about that, as if the last Light in all of the world had finally winked out, and we were all that was left. The last remnants of everything that was supposed to be good, and honorable.

  Missolis and Hekata found me draped over a palisade, staring up at the unlit beacon. They leaned over the edge with me and looked up.

  “What was that supposed to be?” asked Missolis.

  It was a moment before I found the right word to reply with. “Hope,” I said. “It was meant to be hope. A beacon filled with angelic Light; a fountain of power and life in a barren desert.”

  “Sounds awful,” said Hekata. “I’m glad it’s gone.”

  “I watched an archangel murder an angel up there,” I said.

  “It just became infinitely more interesting…”

  I shook my head. “Feels like so long ago that I last saw her face. For the people here, it probably was.”

  “Who was she?” asked Missolis.

  “Her name was Helena, the angel this bastion is named after. She was a Lightbringer, like me. It was her Light that she’d used to create the beacon. Her intention was to create a well for all of us to drink from whenever we needed a sip of strength. Instead, a lunatic of an archangel saw it as a means to get back into Heaven.”

  “After the fall? I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “None of us did, not until Micah suggested it.” I sighed. “Helena was probably the last, best angel left on Earth before Medrion killed her. She sacrificed herself so that I would be able to get up into Heaven and stop all of this. Instead, I made it worse.”

  “Lucifer got out,” said Missolis. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “I was going there to free him. I thought he would… fix everything. I thought he would save us, save Heaven. Instead, he turned out to be a massive⁠—”

  “—dick,” said Hekata, finishing my thought even if that wasn’t the word I was going to use. “Huge disappointment. I can’t believe I fell for his lies.”

  “We all did,” said Missolis. “That’s why God imprisoned him. She must have known he was… broken. Must’ve known the damage he could do.”

  Hekata rolled her eyes. “She’s dead,” she said, “You don’t have to kiss Her ass anymore.”

  “You’re right,” I said, “She’s gone and we’re all that’s left. It’s up to us to put Lucifer back in his box, somehow, and avoid dying in the process.”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” said Missolis, sighing deeply. “Even if Lucifer is mortal now, he still has an army of demons at his back. We’re outnumbered, and as long as we’re here, we’re vulnerable.”

  I shook my head. “There can’t be another fight,” I said. “That can’t be the way we go out. Lucifer will win if we resort to violence.”

  A brief pause passed between us. I heard the gentle sway of the ocean, the rush of a soft, salty breeze as it climbed up and over the bastion’s parapets, the voices of angels talking amongst themselves. It was peaceful here. Quiet.

  “Do you know what Hellions are best known for?” asked Hekata.

  I looked over at her and shook my head. “I don’t,” I said.

  “We aren’t the strongest demons. We aren’t the ones that ride out with broadswords, hammers, spiked maces or whatever other instruments of torture a demon decides to make an extension of their own body. But we’re still the first to engage the enemy. Do you want to know why?”

  “I really do.”

  “Hellions ride out ahead of the other demons, we stalk our prey… watch them carefully, learn their movements, their patterns. We determine their weaknesses. Once we know where our target is most vulnerable, we swoop in like dark arrows and strike only those spots. If we’re lucky, we bring the prey down immediately. If not, we slow them down long enough for those instruments of torture to become useful.”

  “You’re suggesting I bite at Lucifer’s ankles?”

  “You have more of a history with him than any of us. You must know something about him that makes him weak. A blind spot, a vulnerability.”

  “Lucifer is…” I paused, shook my head. “No, he’s meant to be perfect, and he has more power than any of us. What vulnerability could he have that I could exploit?”

  “Maybe his weakness isn’t physical,” said Missolis. “Maybe it’s not about his power, or his abilities, but something in his character.”

  “He loves to talk,” I said. “If only we could get him talking, he’d never stop.”

  “I’m not sure how we can use that to our advantage, but it’s a start.”

  I looked up at the darkened beacon again. “What if it’s hopeless? What if our last, best hope is to surrender and hope he doesn’t kill us all?”

  “And then what? We become his pawns in whatever cosmic game he’s playing? I’d rather die a thousand deaths than allow myself to be subjected to that.”

  “I’m sure he could arrange for that,” said Hekata. “All you have to do is refuse him. He clearly wants to be adored, more than anything.”

  “Huh…” I paused. “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  A flicker of Light along the battlements caught my attention. It was soft Light, the kind that didn’t make Missolis and Hekata go running for the hills, which meant it could only have been Micah. When the Light settled, the cherub was there, a pensive expression on his face. He walked up to us without skipping a beat, then stopped short of reaching us entirely.

  “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

  “Only my musings,” I said. “If you’re here, then whatever you have to say is vastly more important than this conversation.”

  “I guess you could say it is,” he said, then paused. He was still unsure about speaking in front of the demons—I could see the apprehension on his face, in his bright eyes. “I’ve been talking with Azrael, and I have a plan.”

  “That was quick,” said Hekata.

  “Time is of the essence,” said Micah. “We don’t have a moment to lose.”

  I nodded. “What did you discuss with Azrael?”

  Micah took a deep breath. “We’re going to turn Helena into a trap.”

  I frowned. “Helena? Do we have enough time?”

  “I don’t know. Medrion had to fly to get to us, but Lucifer has the power to just… be wherever he wants to be. He could show up at any second.”

  “Then this conversation is pointless,” said Missolis. “You should already be working on your plan.”

  “And I am,” Micah continued. “I’ve already put things into motion, swift hands are hard at work drawing the sigil as we speak.”

  “Sigil?” I asked.

  “First, the entire courtyard needs to be covered in angelic runes so that it can contain Lucifer’s energy. One final sigil then needs to be drawn into the ground—that’s where we’ll trap Lucifer. Once we have him, the trap will trigger and it’ll send us to Heaven. More specifically, directly to the mouth of the Pit.”

  I shook my head. “Hold on a second. Back to Heaven? What are you talking about?”

  “I can get myself, Lucifer, and several of us into Heaven if this trap works.”

  “How? When did this happen?”

  “I told you, I’ve been working on my abilities since you left. Turns out I can do quite a few things now that I… regret not being able to do sooner.”

  A darkness crept across his otherwise bright eyes. I watched him glance up to the unlit beacon, and I could tell he was thinking of Helena, and how she died in our arms.

  “In my defense, I didn’t leave,” I said. “I was thrown into Hell.”

  “No one’s blaming you for what happened.”

  “No one’s blaming you, either.”

  My words lingered, and Micah and I shared a moment of eye contact. He nodded, gently, then took another deep breath. “If we can get Lucifer back to the mouth of the Pit, I may be able to incarcerate him.”

  “May?” asked Missolis. “Forgive me if I don’t trust the abilities of a cherub compared to the first angel.”

  “Don’t forget, Cassiel—we came before you did, and our powers were infinitely stronger. We were simply forbidden from using them outside of God’s direct commands.” Micah paused. “Lucifer is powerful, but the trap should drain just enough of his energy that I should be able to overpower him.”

  “You have said should twice, cherub,” said Hekata. “Do you question your own abilities?”

  “Everything about this is experimental and theoretical. It should work.”

  “I hate to ask,” I said, “but then what?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Micah.

  “Moving past the part where apparently you have the power to get yourself, Lucifer, and several of us back into Heaven without needing a ton of Light—I assume. Say we trap Lucifer, send him to Heaven, and clap him in irons. What do we do next?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Right now, my only goal is to contain Lucifer.”

  “He’s the only one who can fix Heaven and by extension fix Earth. He’s hardly going to do that once we make him our prisoner.”

  “Except he might,” said Hekata. “If he’s your prisoner, then you’ll have leverage over him. For example, you can offer to torture him a little less in exchange for his cooperation.”

  “How much is a little?” asked Missolis. “Because he deserves so much torture.”

  “So much,” said Hekata, nodding in agreement. “All the torture.”

  “No one is torturing anyone,” Micah put in. “But yes, the concept is sound. Once we have him trapped, we can negotiate with him to fix the Sacred Machinery.”

  “And if he doesn’t do it?” I asked.

  “Then we’re back where we were before Medrion, but at least Lucifer is locked away.”

  “This is risky…” I said, trailing off. “Azrael signed off on this plan?”

  “She hated it, too. But we’re out of options.”

  I nodded. “He won’t come alone. You know that.”

  “I know.”

  “I want permission to release Abaddon. We’ll need him when Lucifer and his demons arrive.”

  Micah stepped forward. “Sarakiel, I know you care for him, but you have to know⁠—”

  “—I know, Micah. I’m not stupid. But he’s one of the best fighters we have; that was as true in the battle against Medrion as it is now.”

  “And he’s the only one of us who has fought Lucifer and survived,” said Missolis.

  Micah sighed again, then lowered his head. “Azrael already agreed to his release. You can go and see him.”

  “Thank you, Micah,” I said, and without saying another word, I turned towards the edge of the palisade and vaulted over it, using my wings to guide me down to the ground below. It was time for Abaddon and me to have a conversation, while there was still time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Déjà vu struck me as I made my way down into the cells. I had done this before; made the exact same walk to visit the exact same prisoner being held captive in the exact same place. I had been on my way to free him, too. So, why did this time feel so infinitely different?

  It was as if these two separate moments were worlds apart.

  Entire universes apart.

  I had expected to find Abaddon standing in his cell, pacing angrily, desperate to be released. Instead, I found him lying on a bed in his cell, one arm tucked behind his head, one knee raised up. His wings were gone, tucked away for comfort. His horns, though—there was no hiding the marks of the sinner, and those looked uncomfortable as all hell.

  Pun not intended.

  Abaddon perked up as I entered the main dungeon area. He then struggled to sit upright as I approached the door to his cell. He wasn’t alone; one of Azrael’s armored angels stood guard, his sword at his side, his hand on the pommel. I asked the angel to give us some privacy, but the angel seemed hesitant. I had to ask a second time to get the angel to leave the room.

  When Abaddon and I were alone, I came up to the bars of his cell fully. Abaddon took a deep breath in through the nose, then exhaled. His eyes didn’t have that red sheen about them, but the rest of him… there were marks all over his body. Cracks and veins of deep purple that crawled along his skin in an almost artful way.

  “Have I been sentenced, yet?” he asked.

  “I’m here to release you,” I said, then paused. “Again.”

  “These angels are too soft on their prisoners.”

  “I told them not to hurt you. I begged them to heal you, in fact. I told them how you saved my life and rescued me from Lucifer.”

  Abaddon scoffed. “Rescued you,” he shook his head. “I did no such thing, only prolonged our suffering.”

  “Because of you, I’m not suffering right now. Neither are you.”

  Abaddon turned his eyes up at me, and I saw clearly now how deep the marks across his face and neck were. On the outside, it looked like him… I could still see the angel whose image I held firmly in my mind during my time in the Pit and in Hell, but that wasn’t his face anymore. There was a pallor to it that wasn’t there before, his cheeks looked a little more sunken than I remembered, and there was a strange blue light behind his eyes I had never seen before.