Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Eyes hot and throat raw, she touched her fingers gently to the items before taking them out with care and placing them on the grass one by one.
* * *
* * *
Raphael spiraled up through the internal forest the Legion had birthed. It was no longer he and his hunter alone who came to admire this green jewel—many in the Tower had asked permission to visit, and Elena had given that permission with generous warmth. The only rules were that visitors were to cause no damage, and that they had to add a plant to either the inside or the outside.
Many of the Tower staff and residents had gone far beyond that, with some spending hours a week tending to the gift the Legion had left in their wake. He was sure he’d seen Holly and Venom walk inside with a pomegranate tree a few years ago, and today, he flew past a tree planted on what had been the eighth floor, its branches heavy with the distinctive purplish-red fruit.
He felt the urge to pick one of the fruits, tear it in half, and feed the luscious seeds to Elena. But something else drove him farther onward, higher and higher, until he thought he’d exit into the sky . . . but then he found himself slowing until he halted about three floors from the top.
To his left grew a tree that had rooted itself to the remnants of a lower floor and had then been further attached to the wall by vines that entwined around its trunk. It arched one strong branch over his head, the light that fell through the leaves a lace filigree on his skin.
He turned his hand under it, entranced.
Archangel? Did you find something?
Spell broken, he looked down and spotted the white fire of his consort’s hair. No. Have you had more success?
No. Her mental voice held a thickness of emotion. Just pieces of them.
He almost dropped, went to her, but he had to go left, to the tree that grew in the middle of a high-rise in Manhattan. Landing on the jagged outcropping that was just barely big enough for the tree and the ferns around it, he looked for that which wasn’t natural.
But his eye kept going to a knot of vines.
Power that ripples through time, he reminded himself, and didn’t fight the urge. Instead, he knelt by the knot and reached out to separate the strands. The Legion mark sparked so bright a fire that he caught the light on the edge of his vision. Elena. Fly to me.
Her wings sounded behind him even as he tugged the vines apart without causing fatal damage. “There.” The metal glowed obsidian-blue, and when he retrieved it, it pulsed with a gentle warmth.
The hum he’d first heard when Alexander showed them his piece of the Compass started again, louder and deeper. “Another gift, hbeebti, for which we must thank the Legion.”
His consort’s eyes were wide as she took in the object. Holding her hover because there wasn’t enough room for her to land beside him, she said, “I see what you meant when you said it might look like a blade, but it’s not.”
“It comes from another time,” he murmured. “A time that had to end before ours could begin.”
Rising, he stepped off the ledge and handed the subcomponent to Elena as they both hovered with the leaves rustling overhead and birds circling to the sky. He wasn’t the least surprised to see an owl with feathers as white as snow perched on a small orange tree opposite them, its eyes a pure and shining gold.
Thank you, Lady Cassandra, he said, knowing she’d hear him no matter if she was falling deeper into her Sleep—her owl would carry his words to her. For this interference that might save our very world.
Her answer was distant and tired but clear. It’s not yet time for you to become the Ancestors. Not for eons yet.
Elena’s eyes glowed when she met his, the power in them as wild and alive as her. “I can hear it singing.” A whisper. “A song inside my head.”
“I hear a hum. Is that what you hear?”
But she shook her head. “No, it’s a delicate melody . . . but it’s slightly out of tune.” She frowned. “Almost but not quite right.”
“Suyin.”
Elena’s eyes flicked up from the object on her palm. “The last piece. The discordant note. She hasn’t found it yet.”
“Hers has always been the most difficult task. There is no way she can search the vastness of her territory in the time given.”
Elena handed the living piece of their origins back to him. “The music’s stopped. I must have to hold it to hear the song.”
“The hum’s constant for me now, but not intrusive. Like . . . having a pet purring in the corner.”