The Armies of Heaven (25 page)

He had to stop for a moment, unable to see from his damned watery eye, and when his vision cleared, he saw someone standing on the opposite bank. Beside a kneeling peasant stood a golden-haired boy. Kae’s heart nearly stopped. He would have known the child anywhere. It was Azel.
His Ola’s Azel.
It was his son.

§

“Now,” the angel instructed. “You must throw the child into the river.”

“Please,
gospodin
.” Kirill pleaded with the angel. “I cannot do this. Set some other task before me, I beg of you!”

“Are you talking to God?” asked the boy.

“Man of God! Prove your faith and do as you are bidden!”

Kirill lifted the little boy in his arms and nearly stumbled, the being’s light and the still-combusting firedust making him dizzy. He hugged the boy to him and wept against his golden hair. “I’m so sorry.” He stood to do the angel’s bidding, but he wavered. If he did this, even if it was God’s will, he couldn’t live with himself. But he couldn’t fail God after all the wrong he’d done.

He stepped up onto the bridge. “Stay there,” he ordered Ola. In his confusion and grief, he never considered what would become of her once he jumped. He crossed to the highest point, where he sat the boy on the stone railing and started to climb over.

“We’re not going to Elysium, are we?” The boy seemed resigned. On the riverbank, Ola began to cry.

As Kirill swung his leg over the railing, a sudden, steel grip seized him, and he thought,
Thank God! The angel has spared me!
The hand dragged him back and spun him around, and the masked field marshal struck him so hard his brain seemed to burst into a shower of light.

§

Love couldn’t believe her eyes. On the bank of the Acheron as they emerged from the alley, Ola stood crying. She was dirty and unkempt and seemed near starved, but it was Ola.

Love ran to her, oblivious to the drama unfolding on the bridge. Ola cried harder as Love swept her up, the kind of desperate crying of a child who realizes through the fear of her elders that she’s been in terrible danger.

“Oh, sweet baby,” Love whispered. “I’m here. Love’s here. You’re okay now. I’m not going to let you go again.”

“Ki’ill,” sobbed Ola, pointing at the bridge.

Love turned to see Anazakia’s cousin drawing his sword as he stood over a demon peasant. Only it wasn’t a demon—it was Kirill. Kae raised the sword to plunge it into Kirill’s chest and Love screamed. As Kae halted at the sound and stared up at her, Gereimon ran past her onto the bridge and grabbed his sword hand.

Kae shoved him away. “Get back, damn you!” His voice was raw with pain and anger as he forced himself to be heard. “He was going to kill my boy!”

On the railing, a small boy with beautiful golden curls like Anazakia’s sat watching the scene. His hands and feet had been bound, but he seemed unmoved by it all except for an unnerving, knowing look in his eyes that didn’t seem to belong to a child.

Love turned to Loquel as the rest of the Virtues caught up with her. “Take Ola. It’s okay, sweetie,” she promised as Ola clung to her. “You go with Loquel. He’s our friend. I’ll be right here.” It broke her heart to leave Ola crying, but Gereimon wasn’t having any luck deterring Kae. She ran onto the bridge and threw herself in front of his sword on her knees beside Kirill, and Kae swore as he stopped short.

“Move aside,” he growled, but he looked startled by her appearance. The bruises hadn’t much faded since she’d left St. Petersburg.

“It’s Kirill. You can’t.”

“I know who it is, damn you! He was going to kill Azel!”

The boy observed them silently.

“Then you should get him down from there before he falls into the river,” Love snapped. “Stop waving that sword around like a maniac!”

Kae stared at her in surprise and then looked at the curious, golden-haired boy. He sheathed his sword and backed away, shaking his head. “Gereimon, you take him.”

Love raised Kirill’s head onto her lap as Gereimon untied the little boy and lifted him off the railing. Kirill didn’t respond, not quite unconscious, but expressing no awareness of anything around him. He’d traded his robes for the garments of a local, and a sweet, peculiar scent clung to him.

“Dear Kirill,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “What were you doing?” Two of the Virtues stepped in and Love moved aside as they lifted him to his feet.

Ola quieted immediately when Love took her back from Loquel, and when little Azel looked up at them, Ola patted Love’s arm and said “Lub!” with an air of triumph.

Devyatnadtsataya
: The Least of These

from the memoirs of the Grand Duchess Anazakia Helisonovna of the House of Arkhangel’sk

Kae had made himself scarce at breakfast and when I heard him ride into camp, I took my tea and stepped from my tent to express my displeasure. A small platoon of Virtues walked behind him in the early morning mist, dragging a prisoner between them. I delayed my rebuke, puzzled by the strange appearance of the group. One of them led a small boy, and I couldn’t imagine why they would have taken a child prisoner. Perhaps he’d been orphaned and they hadn’t known what to do with him.

From behind this Virtue, however, another person stepped out. My cup dropped forgotten from my hand and shattered on the ground.

“Mama!” Ola squirmed in Love’s arms, and Love let her down to run to me. I swept her off the ground, unable to speak for the torrent of emotion that threatened to overwhelm me, and held her so tightly she protested. I’d stopped dreaming of her a week past, and I’d been too frightened of what it might mean to tell anyone. And somehow here she was—ragged and dirty, but to me she was beautiful. To me, she still smelled like an Arkhangel’sk wildflower
.

“Oh, my darling girl,” I whispered at last. “Where have you been?”

“With Azly.” Ola pointed proudly at the little boy.

I’d forgotten Azel. I looked up into my sister’s deep celestine eyes in a smaller version of Kae’s face. He was an astonishingly beautiful child. And inside his gaze was a haunted look of recognition.

“Stop it!” he yelled suddenly, startling us all, and pressed his hands against his ears as if he stood in an incredible din.

Because Kae wouldn’t go near him, Gereimon became Azel’s temporary caretaker, bringing him to wash up and get something to eat while I retreated with Ola and Love to my pavilion. With so much to absorb at once, Love’s appearance hadn’t registered until we were alone.

“What kind of monster would do this to you?” I inspected her bruised face after she’d told me about her interrogation by the
Angliski
Nephilim.

She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “Zeus’s brother.”

“Oh, sweetie.”

Love waved away my concern. “Belphagor and his ‘boys’ literally flew to my rescue. It was pretty impressive. I didn’t realize you all had wings.”

I smiled as I remembered how I’d once been tempted to display mine for her back in the world of Man when she’d been innocent of Heaven and its inhabitants. Part of me wished she could still be innocent of us, but I was so pleased to have her back. I’d missed my friend.

“And where’s Belphagor? Lively passed on a message from you, but it was a bit vague.”

Love frowned. “Well, the thing is, we’re not sure exactly. He missed the train, and then he called Loquel to tell him we were to go on without him, but he didn’t explain. Loquel kept trying to get through to him, but the cell phone Belphagor bought for him ran out of juice and I guess Bel must have the charger.”

“Beli,” said Ola, sitting contentedly in Love’s lap. “We go see Beli now?”

I shook my head, amazed at how much she seemed to understand. “Not just yet, darling. But soon, I hope. And Papa, too.” I looked at Love. “He’s still in the palace.”

Loquel arrived with a tray of fruit and cheese. “I thought the little duchess might be hungry.”

My heart hurt at how eagerly she took it. “Say thank you, Ola,” I prompted.

“
Spasibo
,” said Ola shyly, looking up at Loquel.

Love laughed. “I’m afraid she spent too much time with me. I’ve made a little
Russkaya
out of her.”

Loquel bent to my ear as Ola busied herself with her food. “The field marshal would like a word with you. It’s about the monk.”

Love jumped up and grabbed my arm. “Please. Don’t let Kae hurt him.”

“Of course not,” I promised, not certain what this was about. I’d seen them drag Kirill in as if he were ill and couldn’t walk on his own.

“Just let me come with you,” she pleaded. “Loquel can stay with Ola for a moment.”

Loquel nodded. “I don’t mind, Your Supernal Highness.”

I agreed reluctantly. “Will you stay here with Loquel, sweetie?” Her worried look twisted my heart. “Mama and Love will be right back. I promise.” I kissed her cheek, hating to leave her, and went with Love to where Kae waited outside.

He glowered at Love. “I don’t suppose Love has mentioned yet that we found the monk about to drown Azel?”

“Drown him?” I glanced at Love, who looked miserable. “Why, in Heaven’s name?”

“Perhaps you should ask him that.” Kae’s visage was dark with anger. “They’ve managed to rouse him a bit with some ice-cold water from the Acheron. I believe he’s drunk.”

Love and I hurried to the tent where Kirill had been taken and found him on his knees between two Iriyan officers. Drenched in water with his hands tied behind his back, he was trembling violently. Love fell on her knees and I waved the soldiers back as she threw her arms around him.

“Lyuba,” he murmured against her, and then gasped as she drew back and he saw her face. “What…?” He struggled for words. “What have they done?”

“I fell from a horse, but I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. Where have you been? What’s happened to you?”

Kirill closed his eyes, swaying slightly. “Angel of light.”

“You see?” growled Kae. “Drunk out of his mind.”

“No,” Love insisted. “He doesn’t smell like alcohol. He smells…sweet.”

When I bent down, I could smell the scent in his hair and clothes. It was something I’d smelled before. “Firedust.”

Kae gave me a dubious look. “The demons’ drug? I thought that was a myth.”

“The Fallen smoke it in the dens of iniquity. I’ve smelled it many times.” I turned Kirill’s head to try to get him to look at me. “Kirill. Did you smoke something?”

“Time for devil dust?” he asked hopefully.

“Someone’s drugged him,” I said to Kae as I stood. “And quite heavily—or maybe it affects humans more strongly. I’ve never seen anyone this ‘hot,’ as they call it.”

“You see?” Love looked up at Kae. “He didn’t know what he was doing. It wasn’t his fault. He would never hurt a child.”

“The angel provided a sacrifice.” Kirill’s words seemed momentarily lucid before he closed his eyes again, looking as if he’d mentally wandered away.

I sighed. “We won’t get any sense out of him until the firedust loses potency. Best let him sleep it off.”

We left Kirill to his delirium and returned to my pavilion, where Ola greeted us happily, staring with curiosity at Kae’s mask as Love picked her up. Kae, in turn, seemed somewhat awed by her.

Loquel handed me a bundle wrapped in brown paper and string. “A messenger brought this for you.”

“From whom?”

“He didn’t say. Just that someone had delivered it to the camp.”

I opened it carefully and found two plain but neatly made dresses just Ola’s size, and a pair of slippers that also looked custom made for her, with a note tucked into one of the shoes.
Auntie thought you might need these
, it said in Lively’s handwriting. Helga wanted me to know she was well aware we had Ola and Azel. She’d probably gotten the information that Kirill had the children as soon as Lively divined it, and must have set Lively to sewing as soon as I’d escaped. I was tempted to burn the garments, but the oversize dressing gown Ola had arrived in was dirty and torn, and she really did need a pair of shoes.

I sighed and held them up. “Helga knows Ola’s here.” I took her from Love’s arms. “I suppose we ought to get you a bath. Wait for me here, please,” I said to Kae. “We need to discuss our strategy.”

Kae opened his mouth to protest, but stared past me, speechless. Gereimon stood at the opening of the tent with little Azel.

The Virtue gave me a graceful bow. “Pardon me, Your Supernal Highness. I didn’t know where you wanted Master Azel.” It was his Virtuous way of reminding me it wasn’t his job to be a nanny. I regarded Azel, touched once more by his similarity to my sister.

The blue eyes returned my gaze evenly, and then he startled me with a word. “Hello, Nenny.”

I handed Ola back to Love and gave her the package of clothes. “Can you take her to get a bath?” I nodded to Gereimon. “You can leave him here with me. Thank you very much for stepping in to help.”

When they’d gone, I sat at the wooden folding table the Virtues had acquired for me and studied Azel. “Where did you hear that name? Did Helga tell you?”

He shook his head but offered no explanation. If he truly had my brother’s spirit within him, I didn’t know how to communicate with him. He was a child of only three years, yet my brother had been nearly thirteen at his death.

“Do you remember me?”

He studied me with serious eyes. “I saw you in a dream one time. You’re Ola’s mama.”

“That’s right. And I’m also your aunt Anazakia. Your mama was my sister.”

Azel’s face remained expressionless.

“It’s a bit of a mouthful.” I smiled at him. “You can call me Aunt Nenny if you like. It’s a nickname my family used to call me when I was a girl.”

“Helga isn’t my mama,” he blurted out, part question, part statement of defiance.

“No, she isn’t,” I agreed, trying not to show my outrage that she’d made any such claim. “Your mama was the Grand Duchess Omeliea Helisonovna of the House of Arkhangel’sk. We called her Ola, just like my daughter.”

I glanced at Kae and he shook his head at me, his face white beside the mask. He’d backed into a corner as if trapped by the boy’s presence in the entrance.

“That makes Ola your cousin,” I told Azel. “You looked after her, didn’t you?”

“Helga kept her in an oubliette,” he said unexpectedly, sounding disturbingly older than his physical years, and his voice had taken on a somewhat supernal tone—like my brother when someone had offended his sensibilities. “And she kept me in…” Azel paused, the color slowly draining out of his little face. “Kept me…” He stopped suddenly and stared at me. “Am I ill?” he asked and fainted dead away.

Kae rushed forward and picked him up, too late to catch him, and his scarred face twisted as he stared down at the child in his arms. “Why does he talk like that?” He clearly didn’t expect me to provide the answer. “It’s very strange. He seems much older than three.” He brought him over to my bedroll and laid him down with a father’s care, tucking the blankets around him.

“I have to tell you something.” I swallowed, afraid my voice would fail me. “He’s not just your son.”

The discomfort on Kae’s face at being acknowledged as Azel’s father was quickly supplanted by a look of suspicion. “What do you mean he’s not?”

“I received some intelligence recently. Helga did more than steal Ola’s child. She stole my brother’s shade.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t really know how I survived, do you?” We’d never spoken of it. He didn’t want me to. We both needed to forget that night. I spoke again before he could object. “I bought a spell in Raqia years ago. It allowed me to separate myself from my shade, which took on a temporary physical form and stood in for me at the palace when I wanted to sneak out. It was my shade-self you saw at the palace that night.”

Kae looked ill and I knew I shouldn’t continue, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “You did kill me, Kae,” I said quietly. “You killed me, and I felt every moment of it when my shade returned to me.”

“Please.” His voice was as rough as gravel, but he said nothing else, as if he didn’t know quite what he was pleading for.

“Helga wanted to keep Azel alive as she had me, by capturing his shade when he died, but he had no temporary body…so she took one.”

“What?” Kae’s face drained of color.
“What?”

I pondered the unconscious boy. “He is both Azel Kaeyevich and Azel Helisonovich. I don’t know how Helga did it, or what he’s suffered because of it—or whether he can survive it,” I added sadly. “And I don’t know what he remembers. But he is my brother as well as my sister’s child.”

Kae stared at his son and when Azel began to stir, he turned and fled.

The boy recovered quickly and didn’t seem to remember the incident afterward. One of the Virtues brought in a stool and a slate with a piece of chalk they’d scrounged up somewhere, but Azel simply sat and stared at the slate as if he’d never seen one before.

“You can draw on it.” I drew a little smiling face for him, but he didn’t respond. I wondered whether Helga had ever given him anything to play with or had bothered to read to him. I was filled with rage and heartache at the idea that he might have lived his whole life in a small, empty room like the one I’d seen in my dream, with nothing to stimulate him and no one with whom to interact. If my brother’s spirit was conscious in him, imparting the skills and memories of thirteen years of privilege and indulgence as the Crown Grand Duke, he wasn’t showing it.

When Ola returned from her bath, she promptly took the slate from Azel and amused herself drawing squiggles and formless shapes she dubbed “Papa and Mama” or “Beli” or “Lub and Ola.” Azel looked on with interest but made no attempt to join her in the activity.

I watched her when she napped later, sprawled un-self-consciously across Love’s lap on the bedroll, her freshly washed hair almost floating about her head like a peach-kissed halo from a Russian icon. The periwinkle dress, as I’d expected, fit her perfectly. It was a plain commoner’s pinafore, but made of fine linen, while the celestine-blue slippers were embroidered in gold thread with the double-headed Seraph of the House of Arkhangel’sk. I suspected Lively had added the slippers to the package without Helga’s knowledge. Azel, meanwhile, remained perfectly still on the little stool, uninterested in napping.

I might have sat and watched Ola all day had it not been for an unexpected assault from the Supernal Army. They’d managed to skirt the fighting in the city before dawn to come up on our flanks in increasing numbers throughout the morning. Occupied with this defense, our troops were taken by surprise when a large contingent charged from the rear to surround us.

The soldiers poured across the Acheron—some cavalry by bridge, some infantrymen breaking through the flanks along the river, and others simply plunging into the Acheron and swelling over its banks in numbers too many to count. Aeval had spared no resources for this assault to try to overwhelm us, a tactic Kae told me she’d used at Gihon to great success, having far more men she considered disposable than did we.