Page 145 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Catastrophic.”
A solemn nod. “The way she eviscerated those demons and didn’t even try. Came back from her possession stronger, rather than depleted. It’s like…challenges just burn through one layer of her—like they release something new each time. Hydrogen to helium, and so on. Has she told you much about her mortal…existence?”
“Not a ton. She doesn’t like to remember…”
“Michael.”
I nodded. “Or the end of all of it. It seems that’s what’s most vivid.”
“It usually is. Alvara was gifted—or cursed, perhaps—as a human, too. Her visions came before she ascended. Not as powerful as they are now, of course, but she could read snippets of people’s futures through body or blood. Like a psychic. Her body would’ve been burned again, or at least ostracized, if they’d found her. Has probably faced the executioner more than we know, as her mortal bodies haven’t even contained what she is.”
“Did Michael know…that she was…different?”
“He loved her despite it. Or so I’ve gathered.”
“Why are you…sharing all of this with me?”
“Aren knows she’s changing—can feel it and has confided in me that he’s unsure of what to expect, or how to…control that unleashing of power. Harness it, so it doesn’t decimate anything she doesn’t mean to.”
“Should you be sharing this with me, or was it discussed in confidence?”
A genuine smile, barely touching the shadows in his eyes. “He says you’re a good man. I really want to believe him.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw again, and then drug his fingers through his hair before he continued. “Aren will come to you if he feels it’s necessary. I…Ifeel it’s necessary. I’ve led many armies, August. Death has been my…friend…my gift, and my curse. And I have a knack for moving soldiers where we need them, when we need them. My gut says we need you. Aren trusts me to…place our pieces on the board, per se. And I need you by Alvara’s side.” He sighed, straightening so he could turn and sit against the railing. “Whenever you can be. Be her…anchor in this. Because I’ve never once seen two souls toss their powers through each other the way you do. I’ve seen Aren command people through an exorcism. But you anchored her here, and you’re a fucking newborn. Perhaps—and there’s no way to know until we have to try it—the two of you can pull each other through the coming…implosion…too. Maybe, if you keep her preoccupied channeling your power, like a conduit, she won’t unleash her own.”
We both watched the hall below, bustling with souls coming and going. Retrieving cakes, cookies, and pies, and busying themselves with returning the treats to loved ones. The Greek Brothers emerged, each holding a different pie, and happily embraced a group of women who joined them as they left the hall.
“You believe I will somehow protect Ally, when I turn myself over to Adrastos?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t seen why you do what you do, just that you do it. But I believe we will come upon an event, that will require you to keep Alvara anchored to this world, so she does not destroy the very thing she intends to protect.”
He patted me on the back and turned for the common room.
“Ansel?”
He paused his long stride and turned halfway back towards me.
“Help me understand when to move.”
A flash of a grin crossed his stone face before it vanished just as quickly. “My pleasure, Commander.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
OUTMATCHED
ALVARA
He was late. Arrogant prick.
I sat and filled the silence with the scrape of my blade on stone. The days after Christmas seemed to drag on indefinitely, and sleep was nearly impossible to find. August had carried a weight with him since Christmas evening, after whatever chat he’d had with Ansel in the hallway.
Both men were careful to keep their walls thick as stone around me, but August’s eyes often traced my face like he wouldn’t see it again. Guilt pushed me to do the same. After Adrastos had stuck his tongue out at me, I decided to stop playing his games. The visions were brief and like ghosts—uncommitted, I realized. He would make no true decisions. But the ideas and concepts that rattled off day and night might have equipped me to get to know our enemy. So, I allowed it.
Soft as a mountain cat, even my ears barely heard the shoes across stray bits of gravel down the asphalt alley. The subtle clink of a stone rolling into a pothole was the most detectable noise. I schooled my face into that cold boredom Ansel and Aren had taught me.
“I’ve grown tired of your games.”
“Is that why you’ve stopped playing with me, cousin? You’ve grown bored of me already?” That drawling accent scraped over my spine, but I didn’t turn, wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction. Adrastos’ smoky mountain scent filled the alley, as he gracefully sat beside me. His proximity turned my stomach to lead, and his too-familiar, sprawled position made my teeth grind together. “Why is it, Alvara of Grayshell, that you’ve stopped bothering to block my plans…and yet that blood-soaked battlefield remains—more gruesome than ever? I don’t care for the number of men we’ll both lose, when they would better serve us standing together.”
I didn’t bother to respond, only focused on scraping steel across stone. He rumbled a low laugh.
