Page 149 of A House of Gold
The truth, Idris's voice slides into my mind.And the truth is deadly.
"Stop talking in riddles!" I slam my hand on the desk, the sound sharp in the tense room. "You want me to survive this? Then tell me what I'm up against!"
"No," Croesus says firmly. He moves to stand between me and the others, protective. "We're not telling you. Because the moment you know, the moment you truly understand what you saw, Heaven will sense it. Knowledge like that, it changes you. Makes you visible in ways that no ward can hide."
Through our binding, I feel his absolute terror. His certainty that if I learn the truth, I'm as good as dead.
I want to argue. Want to scream. Want to demand answers.
But I can see it in all their faces, the fear, the horror, the understanding that whatever I saw in that vision is worse than anything my grandmother uncovered.
"Fine," I say finally, forcing my voice to steady. "Then we have a different problem. Whoever sent that vision knows I saw it. Which means they know I'm getting too close to whatever truth you're all protecting."
"Agreed," Seraph says. "They'll come for her. Soon. Probably tonight."
"Then we kill them first," Kael says simply. "We set a trap. Wait for them to make their move. All seven of us against whatever archangel they send."
"Finally," Lysander drawls, pushing off from the wall. "A plan I can get behind. Violence always simplifies things."
"Wait." Caspian's tired voice cuts through the room like a blade. He's been silent until now, leaning heavily on his cane in the corner, barely participating. But now those pale eyes fix on us with something that might be alarm. "We can't fight Heaven. The treaty."
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees.
"Fuck the treaty," Kael snarls.
"Fuck the treaty?" Caspian's laugh is hollow. "You want to start a war? Because that's what breaking the treaty means. Heaven destroys us. All seven houses. Everything we've built over three thousand years, gone."
"So we just let them kill her?" Croesus's voice is deadly quiet.
"I didn't say that." Caspian shifts his weight, grimacing. "But we need to be strategic. The treaty is binding. Ancient. Negotiated after the Fall when the Gods decided we were too dangerous to destroy but too useful to ignore." He looks at each of them in turn. "We agreed not to challenge Heaven directly. They agreed not to pursue us. If either side breaks that agreement, it all falls apart."
"He's right," Seraph admits, and the words seem to pain him. "As much as I'd love to demonstrate Heaven's foolishness in sending assassins after her, we can't engage directly. The political ramifications..."
"Political ramifications?" I interrupt. "They're going to kill me!"
"Yes," Seraph says simply. "And we can't stop them. Not directly. The moment any of us raises a hand against anarchangel, the treaty shatters. And Heaven will come for all of us."
The room erupts in argument, angels shouting over each other, power flaring, the air crackling with barely contained violence. I stand in the middle of it all, watching seven deadly sins tear into each other while I'm apparently supposed to just–die.
"ENOUGH!"
Croesus's voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. Gold light flares from his hands, bright enough that everyone stops mid-argument.
"There has to be another way," he says, voice tight with controlled fury. "We can't fight directly. Fine. But there are loopholes in every contract. Every treaty. We just need to find it."
"There is no loophole," Caspian says flatly. "The treaty is absolute. We cannot engage Heaven in combat. Period."
"But she can."
Everyone turns to look at Seraph.
He's standing perfectly still, mirror eyes thoughtful. "We can't fight. But she can. She's human. The treaty doesn't apply to her."
"She's human facing an archangel," Kael points out. "She'd last maybe thirty seconds."
"Alone, yes," Seraph continues. "But what if she wasn't alone? What if she had access to our power?"
The room goes silent as everyone processes this.
