Page 18 of Wolf of Ashes
“As you like.” Without further hesitation, he ascends the stairs, and once again, I follow.
If I had more strength, I would take the lead and assert dominance.
I tell myself I’m simply allowing him to act as my shield.
I’m being wise, not weak.
The stairs advance to a corridor with ivory walls. There’s no natural light, only lamps set at intervals along the wall. The brightness isn’t too unpleasant, which I hope means my eyesight is beginning to adjust.
An opaque door sits at the far end of the corridor obscuring whatever lies beyond it.
Despite the barrier, my sense of smell is detecting…
What is that?
Something utterly revolting to my senses. It’s like flowers… but not flowers.
It sets the hairs at the back of my neck on end.
“Angels,” I whisper. “It’s fucking angels.”
CHAPTERFIVE
The keeper presses his palm to the door, the same way he pressed his hand to the ground in the burned courtyard.
“I believe you’re correct,” he says.
“Can you tell if there are any Sentinels among them?”
He shakes his head, humming in the back of his throat, but some of his tension finally eases. “I can’t be certain, but I don’t sense any strong light magic. Whatever battle was being fought in this place, I no longer sense the presence of those powerful creatures.”
I breathe out my relief. Not that I wasn’t ready to take them on, but I’m happy I won’t have to do it right now. “That’s good. Regular angels don’t bother me.”
The keeper’s hand lands on my shoulder. “A trail of blood is not in our best interests. You need a clean path behind you or you’ll forever be looking over your shoulder.”
I’m already looking over my shoulder. Even now, my jailer could be tracking me. At some point, I’m going to have to tell the keeper where I’ve come from and what’s coming after me. But right now, standing in a hallway on the other side of what could possibly be a legion of angels, doesn’t seem like the time.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I didn’t say I was going to kill them.”
“Then you’ll trust me to deal with any angels we encounter?”
“It depends on how you plan to ‘deal with’ them.”
Presumably, it doesn’t involve any blood since he seems against that.
He gives me a smug smile. “You’ll see.”
I’m ready to protest, but he’s already pushing the door open.
The panthers hold back, their growls coming low and soft, as if they’re as disconcerted by the smells in our new surroundings as I am. They’ll be wary of angels, given what they must surely have experienced at Zadkiel’s hands.
The door opens into a large room.
Despite the keeper’s belief that there are nopowerfulcreatures present, I was bracing for a room full of angels, but there are none in sight.
The walls are cracked, fissures extending across their surface, and chips of paint and plaster are strewn across the floor. It looks as if the entire structure was shaken. I sift through my memory of environmental factors, wondering about the tremors that my mother called ‘earthquakes,’ but I quickly dismiss that possibility. These cracks are combined with burn marks that indicate targeted fire, the scorch lines streaking across the walls as if from some sort of flamethrower.
I’m glad we haven’t been confronted with angry angels, but their absence is becoming more disconcerting.
