Page 164 of A House of Gold
"Can you feel us?" Croesus asks me gently.
I nod weakly. I can feel all of them. Not their thoughts, thank god, but their emotions, their presences, like seven distinct flavors in the back of my mind.
"How long until the battle?" I whisper.
"Hours," Seraph says. "Dawn is still far off. You should rest."
"Can't." I try to sit up, fail. "Too much. Too many voices."
"They're not voices," Croesus says. "Just emotions. You'll learn to filter them. But that takes time."
"Time we don't have."
"No." His hand finds mine, squeezes. "But you'll manage. You're stronger than you think."
Through all seven bonds, I feel their agreement. Even Seraph, even Caspian, they all believe I can do this.
I wish I had their confidence.
Dawn comes cold and gray.
We gather at an abandoned industrial complex on the outskirts of the city, neutral ground, chosen specifically because it's far from populated areas. If this goes wrong, at least we won't take civilians with us.
The seven angels stand in a loose circle around me. I feel their tension. Their readiness. Their fear.
"We can't stay," Seraph says abruptly. "The archangel will sense us the moment they arrive. Seven fallen angels in one place, we might as well send up a signal flare."
"But..." I start.
"The bonds will work regardless of distance," Croesus interrupts, though through our connection I feel his hatred of this plan. "We'll retreat to our respective houses. You'll still be able to pull on our power, the bonds don't have a range limit."
"You're leaving me alone?" My voice cracks.
"We have to." Kael's ember eyes are sympathetic. "If the archangel senses us here, they'll know it's a trap. They'll either not engage, or they'll call for reinforcements. Either way, you die. And we’d all go to war."
"But if we're not physically present," Dorian adds gently, "then as far as Heaven knows, you're just a sin eater who happens to be very powerful. The bonds are internal, invisible to everyone except us."
We'll still feel everything, Idris assures me.
"And we'll be ready to come if the plan fails," Lysander says. "Treaty be damned."
"No." Seraph's voice is sharp. "If this fails, if she dies, we do not break the treaty. That's the whole point of this plan, plausible deniability. The archangel must believe she's acting alone."
I feel Croesus's fury at that. His desperate need to stay, to protect me, warring with the cold logic that says this is our only chance.
"He's right," I say quietly. "You have to go."
"Raven..."
"Go." I look at Croesus, trying to memorize his face. "I can do this. I have to."
He pours everything into me, love, strength, absolute faith. Then, reluctantly, he nods.
"We'll be watching through the bonds," he says. "Pull on us. Use everything we can give you. Don't hold back."
"I won't."
One by one, the angels disappear. Portals opening to their respective houses, golden light and smoke and mirrors swallowing them.
