CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Andreya’s Secret
All three of us skipped the festivals to patrol outside the sagekeep that afternoon, and stayed there into the evening. It was Midwinter's Eve, the coldest night of the year, and my breaths came out as opaque mist. While normal students were eating roast venison and laughing by the fire with their friends, I was waiting for night so I could get into Vormund tower. I paced around in the snow, holding my fur-lined hood close against my face and wiping my nose. Not with my hood, of course; I'd brought a handkerchief. I'd at least learned that much from etiquette class.
I leaned against the carved arch of the sagekeep wall, watching for the sages or a sign of the Angel. Nothing inside, nothing outside. I took out a book on Baldr the Philosopher from my pocket and read through some of it while I waited. Mira and Will were waiting on the other side of the sagekeep with pipes and lute to warn me if anyone approached. I found myself dozing several times before I finally put the book away and watched the snowflakes fall instead. I did feel a bit like Baldr, though, trapped in an icy land and confused about my place in the world. I hoped he would approve of what I was doing tonight.
Someone rapped against the window and joined me outside. It was Will. "Just checked the tower entrance. Still plenty of sages guarding it, but the rest seem to be gone."
"No one at all watching the base of the tower?"
"Nope. Mira says you should try one of the serpent drawings first." He pointed across the snowy landscape. "Closest one is over there."
"All right. I'll wait another few minutes."
Will rubbed his hands together and pulled on his gloves. "You all right out here? It's freezing."
"I'm fine."
"You sure? Your lips look kind of purple." He cleared his throat. "I mean, can't you turn into Lightning Girl and warm up?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea," I said. "The Angel knows how to find me if I transform. Besides, it's not too bad." The tension was eating at me more than the cold. "Just kind of weird to spend Midwinter's Eve like this. Waiting outside a sagekeep to sneak into my mother's tower."
He laughed. "Who would have thought? And my father said I'd never do anything important with my life."
"Don't say that," I said. "You're a nice guy. You'll do great things, I'm sure of it."
"As long as the human race survives this Angel, you mean." He handed me a pouch of sulfur and a black gemstone wrapped in cloth. "You sure you'll be all right in there?"
"If anything bad happens, I'll turn into Lightning Girl and run off," I said. I wasn't as nervous about running into trouble as I was about misinterpreting my mother's plans. I had to get this right. I had to prove I was worth something to her.
Will smiled and held up his pipes before stuffing them into his coat. "You remember the songs, right? I'll play them extra fast if there's an Angel around."
"I think I'll be able to tell. But thanks. And you be careful too."
With a flourish of his cloak, Will strode back into the sagekeep. I stayed next to the arches, letting them block the wind, until I could barely see in front of my face. If I wait any longer, I won't be able to see where I'm going. I started out into the snow, guided by the last reflections of light on the window of my mother's tower.
When I reached the base, I saw the brightly painted serpent's head. It was about eye level, so it would make sense if there was a passage hidden here. I held up the key to the stone, but nothing happened. I tried waving it high over the drawing and walking all around it. The key didn't work.
I gathered my hood against my face, biting my lip to keep my teeth from chattering. The wind howled in my ears, bringing with it a tide of icy force. I trudged through the snow toward the next runic inscription. Once I made it inside, it would be warmer. And if I checked the whole tower and found nothing, I could transform to warm up and meet back up with Will and Mira at the Bard Song. I just had to get through the snow a little longer.
The second inscription led to nothing, as well as the third. The fourth was another serpent's head, but the key still refused to glow. I was starting to wonder if the key only worked on that particular alcove in the archives. But if that was true, how did my mother expect me to get in?
The sound of pipes stopped me in mid-step. I listened, cupping my hand over my ear. The song was slow and melodic: it was Mists of Morning, the one for someone who wasn't Traum. I peered through the gloom, but saw nothing. Who could it be?
The song stopped, and when it resumed, it was twice its ordinary speed. The melody sounded rushed and frantic, and Will was missing some of the notes on his pipes. What did this mean? If Traum was coming, he said he'd play the other song faster.
A crash from above answered my question. I looked up at the window of the tower, which was shattered inward, cold air making the curtains billow into the night. Jans, I thought. Did he jump, or did he fly? Whatever he'd done, I didn't have time to find the secret entrance anymore. I needed to try the main entrance, whether or not there were sages guarding it. They wouldn't be able to stop me if I transformed.
I ran across the snow, heading for the sagekeep. A crossbow bolt whirred by my ear. "Who goes there?" asked a firm voice. I stopped. A figure emerged from the shadows to the side, clad in a gray cloak that hung open to reveal a black coat underneath.
"Galen?" I asked. "Is that you?"
The figure stepped forward, lowering the crossbow. In the waning light, I recognized the blonde mustache and disheveled hair of Henri, my mother's lieutenant. "Young Lady Staalvoss," Henri said. "Your timing is impeccable, though your arrival was hardly anticipated. Come with me." He strode over to the wall and felt around on its rough-hewn surface.
"So there is a passage?" I said. "I was looking for it, but nothing opened."
"You need to know where to look," Henri said. "And what you're looking for." There was a clicking sound, and the grinding of stone followed. A doorway opened from the side of the tower, with a staircase leading upward.
"How did you do that?" I asked. "Do you have a relic too?"
He gave a slight smile. "This is no magic here, Kaybree. The magic of man, more like." He started up the staircase.
I followed after him, and the grinding of stone closed up the passage, shutting out the cold and the wind. We were in a dark stairwell, and I gripped the stone railing as we ascended. "So this was the plan all along," I said. "I think the Angel may have already gotten in. It's looking for whatever my mother used to fight the first Angel." We continued climbing, but Henri didn't answer. "You do know how she fought the first Angel, right?"
Henri pushed open a door, and we emerged into one of the hallways. He turned to look at me, his face serious. "I am not at liberty to tell you that just yet," he said. "But if an Angel has indeed entered this tower, it may soon find out for itself." He waved me forward. "I need to get to the armory, but we have no idea how far the creature has penetrated. Can you draw him off?"
I felt a sense of elation. He wasn't going to give me answers, but he was including me in a mission. Was I finally part of Vormund? "Of course," I said. "But how do we know that he won't run into you first if we split up?"
"Your transformation, girl," he said. "I've no doubt he'll sense you the moment you transform." He gave a quick salute and began walking down the hallway, picking up his feet and making no more noise than a cat.
I took the relic from my pocket and took the other path, heading for the tower keep. I slid the bone-white bracelet on. The relic warmed my skin where it touched, and a tingling sensation came over me. I tried to calm down so I could gradually slip into focus and activate its power. This one felt different from the ring, though I couldn't say how. My mother would have chosen one suited to me, I hoped. I rounded a corner, passing a pile of fallen swords and a mangled suit of armor. Claw marks scarred the walls. The door to the tower keep lay up ahead.
A blast shook the tower. The door flew open and fell at my feet with a thud. Jans stood there, robes billowing in the icy wind, t
ransformed into his monstrous Angel form. His robe bulged from a pair of spindly wings beneath, his hands had bloated into curved claws, and his face had turned a pale gray. His features had changed as well, his face contorted into a grotesque, elongated mask, but his eyes remained the same. "You're here," he said.
I grabbed the pouch at my belt and realized it had lit on fire. My whole body was aflame, though I couldn't feel it. A violet blaze enveloped my skin, and the bracelet on my wrist glowed. This must be what the bracelet does. I threw off my coat and opened the pouch of sulfur. Jans rushed at me, and I hurled the pouch at him, scattering sulfur powder along the floor.
He raised his robe, ducking beneath it and blocking the sulfur rain. He slipped off the outer robe and threw it—back at me! I pushed it away, but as I did, my hands burned where it touched the sulfur. Vivid blue smoke rose from the contact, reminding me of the candles in the classroom. Jans held an object out toward me: a black gemstone, mounted on a wooden ankh with a pyramid engraved on it. The stone emitted a high-pitched screech that raked against my ears. I staggered back, stunned for a moment. Gritting my teeth against the rattling in my skull, I kicked the ankh out of his claw, knocking it down the hall.
"You seem surprised, Witch," he said. His voice sounded little different from the Jans I knew and loved, but eerily hollow. He drew a mirror out of a pouch in his inner robes and thrust it at me. Instead of seeing my reflection, a searing blast of light blinded me for a second. Before I could focus, something slammed into me and threw me to the ground.
Come on, Henri, where are you? I kicked and thrashed as I came up, blinking away spots of color from my vision. A claw slashed my arm, but I pummeled him with a fiery fist. He flew back into the tower keep, and I rushed after him. In my Fire Girl form, I could blaze across a room in seconds. Jans slashed again, and I dodged away. I punched at him, sending him into the wall. The stone cracked where he hit. He shot back at me, cuffing me across the face. My vision spun, and he hit me again. I crashed against a table, splintering the wood.
Jans leapt at me, and I rolled to dodge. I scrambled to find a weapon. No sulfur, no gemstones. He slashed at me, and I ducked. My necklace bounced against my chin. Wait, the heretic's bone! I ripped the finger bone and its leather cord off of my neck and whipped it at Jans's face. It seared his cheek, and he yelled and stumbled away. I held it out, watching for his next move as the bone dangled in front of me. "Why are you doing this?" I asked. "Why are you attacking us? We've obeyed the sages and the words of the philosophers. What have we done wrong?"
Jans scowled, crouching against the windowsill and using his hands to shield his face. "You should know, Witch." He clutched the smoldering spot on his cheek. "Traum will be here soon. He'll find you and expose what you truly are." I stood there, confused. He shook his head, and his eyes softened. "Give this up. Your Weapons and your devices will serve no one. The sins of your fathers must not be repeated."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. The wind from the broken window rushed in, blowing the splintered bits of the table around the room. "We only use the Weapons to defend against you."
Jans bared his teeth and sent a wave of howling wind at me, knocking me against the wall. "Are you so delusional? This world is not your plaything. The people here deserve to know what you are. At least your daughter."
Daughter? He thought I was my mother. "Jans, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to know what's going on. Why are you doing this?"
He hurled a sharp chunk of the table at me. "You are the disease that cankers this people. You are the disease that rises and refuses to die. You are the bane of humanity." I ducked the projectile, which hit the wall behind me. "I love these people too much to let you live."
"What am I doing that's so wrong?" I asked, exasperated. I couldn't understand it. All I'd done was defend the city against the Angels.
Jans snarled and crashed into me. I kicked him away, shattering another window as he smashed through it. He clung to the edge and vaulted back inside, shaking off shards of glass. Droplets of silvery blood dripped onto the floor.
"She's not Andreya," said a voice from the side.
My heart lifted. Mikael strode toward us in the tower keep, his long cloak fluttering in the wind. It was just like I'd thought. He was working for my mother all along. "Mikael?"
He drew out a crossbow and fired it. At me. I was too shocked to dodge, and the bolt stuck in my side. Pain exploded through me, and before I knew what was happening, I lay on the ground with blood covering my fingers. My blood. Wait, how can I bleed when I'm made of fire? I looked down at my hands; they'd returned to normal. I tried to focus on the relic, but Mikael grabbed my hand and tore the bracelet off. "What are you doing?" I asked, frantic.
He slid the bracelet into his coat pocket. "You see?" he said to Jans. "Just a girl. Like I've been telling you." His skin blazed where the bracelet had touched. Pure white, the color of something I'd seen in recent memory. In my visions.
I stared up at Mikael. He was my Angel. And he was here to kill me too.
"But . . . ." Jans shook his head in disbelief. I clutched the nasty wound in my side. "There must be some mistake. Kaybree?" My vision spun, but I saw his face had paled.
"The pieces fit, Giles. We didn't sense her until fifteen years ago. Each Witch is capable of destroying us from the moment of her birth. And only one Witch is born every hundred years. Two in the same generation would be impossible."
Jans met my gaze. I struggled to keep breathing; it hurt every time I did. "So fifteen years ago, what killed Astriel was . . ."
Me. I saw through the haze of pain what I'd feared all along. My mother hadn't killed that Angel a decade and a half ago, and the Angels weren't looking for an ancient relic. They were looking for me. "But why?" I whispered. "Why am I a Witch?"
Mikael stepped in front of me. "You see, Giles? She's harmless."
"And what does that mean, Mikael?" asked another voice I knew. A figure crouched by the window loped out into the tower keep. The wolf. "Will you try to control her, then? Charm her into following you?" A growl issued from its throat. "Do not interfere with our divine injunction."
"Jans, what's going on?" I asked. "Why does he keep calling you Giles?"
Jans looked pained. My side had gone numb, and my mouth was dry. "Giles never saw an Angel in a vision," he said, blinking back tears. "I . . . am he. Eight hundred years ago, I founded the order of the sages. There I vowed to do whatever was necessary to protect humanity."
"But I don't understand!"
"No, you don't," he said, walking closer. His gaze darted from his claw and back to me, as if ashamed at what he was about to do. "You weren't there. You did not see men and Angels murdering each other. Cities set aflame. Children massacred in the streets." He shook his head. "Humanity was not meant to have such power."
He gestured at my mother's office as he continued his somber advance. "Lady Staalvoss uses you and your blood for her experiments. She and her minions aim to recreate the ancient relics. They seek power over life and death." I stared at him, finally comprehending his purpose in coming here. And realizing why my mother had my blood taken every week. She had used me to defeat the first Angel all along.
I glanced over at the piles of weapons. Jans had blasted a hole in the wall, and swords and shields lay scattered about the floor. Polished white objects lay next to them—the relics. I bolted forward, stumbling because of my throbbing side, and grabbed the first relic I could find. Another bracelet. I put it on and threw myself into it. Immediately the pain in my side disappeared, and my skin blazed with violet fire. I met his gaze stoically, awaiting his attack.
Mikael and the wolf stepped over to block my escape out the hall, forcing me to take another route. I ran headlong at Jans—Giles—and swerved at the last moment, leaping out the window to soar outside into the frigid air. Snowflakes peppered my skin as I flew. An exultant ecstasy swept over me as I sailed above Kant Vakt, wind howling through my hair of flames and whippi
ng against my violet skin. The city lay below me, a grid of houses in neat array, with people moving like ants through the streets.
To my dismay, the ground began to rise up to meet me. I tried to float back up, but to no avail. I could leap great distances, it seemed, but extended flight wasn't an option. Wind flattened my cheeks against my jaw. I grabbed onto a spire of the sagekeep as I fell. My nails screeched against the spire, grating on my ears but slowing my fall. Sparks flew from my hand as I desperately tried to stop myself. I landed at last on the roof of the sagekeep, with a numb right hand and a wind-whipped face. The moon shone brilliantly in the sky, blazing through the gray snow clouds. I winced at the scar my nails had left on the spire: four ugly red claw marks.
"Kaybree!" said a voice below. Will and Mira waved up at me from the courtyard. In this desperate moment of my battle, I wondered if they would throw some secret weapon to me, to help me win the fight. That's what always happened in the Sagas. But they didn't throw anything. Instead, they pointed frantically, their eyes wide with fear. Behind me.
I dodged aside, and a hairy shape flew past. The wolf. "You know, I have to give it to you, little Witch," he growled, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. "It was a good hunt. Your delicate little finger bones will make a nice conversation piece."
A figure leapt up from the broken window onto the roof. "Away from her," Mikael said, putting himself between me and the wolf. "This is one chosen for vision. You may not harm her."
The wolf growled, his features twisting into a very human-like anger. "Know your place, Syn'Kurir. Your people discovered the Witch and her mother's sins. But if you hinder our mission, you will be destroyed."
Mikael drew his sword and fell into ready stance, his skin glowing with white light. "I am a messenger of the Almighty," he said. "The Domari cannot destroy me."
The roof tiles exploded upward, flying into the darkness. Giles the Philosopher-Angel climbed through the jagged hole of stone and heaved himself onto the roof. His body was misshapen, swollen so it almost looked like it would burst. He let out a bestial roar, and his robe ripped free, showing a mass of writhing tentacles. He was a monster, a horror I could barely comprehend, and he continued to grow as I watched. Claws formed on the ends of his hands and feet, stabilizing his position on the roof. Horns grew from his head, curling downward. Tusks formed on the sides of his mouth.
"Look out!" Mikael cried. I spun to see hordes of creatures crawling up the sides of the sagekeep. There were things with spidery legs and men's twisted faces, hairy shapes that could have been trolls from a storybook, and black lizards with bulbous heads and rows of sharp teeth. Mikael swung at a spider, gashing its body and causing yellow liquid to ooze out. A lizard leapt for him, but I shot forward and slammed it with my blazing fist, sending it over the rooftop.
"What are they doing here?" I asked.
"They're here to kill you," he said.
"I'm flattered they'd go to so much trouble."
"Witches were the cause of the War of the Angels," Mikael said. "The Domari will stop at nothing to destroy you. Even if it means taking the whole city with you." He slashed at a hairy shape, and it leapt back out of reach. "You have to stop Giles. He's the one behind this."
"But why won't he understand? I'm just a kid. I don't want to hurt anyone."
"The Domari cannot be reasoned with. They perform their duty. That is their purpose."
A wave of monsters charged us, and Mikael rushed forward to meet them, slashing in wide arcs to keep them at bay. I tried to think about my training with Galen, but all I remembered was face planting in the mud. My sword and staff skills were weak, and my fist fighting was clumsy. But I'd killed an Angel before—twice, in fact. How had I done it then?
"Your death is not in vain, Kaybree," Giles said, a face forming on the monster for a moment. "Please understand. You must die so others may live. It is the will of the Almattugur."
The wolf snapped at me. I slammed him in the face, but his teeth still sunk into my leg. I heard a sickening pop, glad that the transformation filtered out the pain. My leg didn't work right, but I did manage to throw him off. I glared at Giles as he returned to the towering monster, willing myself to anger in hopes that it would keep my mind occupied.
But I couldn't stop the fear from paralyzing me. Father Above, I'm only fifteen. I don't want to die. Why did it have to be me? I'd never wanted to be a Witch whose power everyone fought over. I'd never wanted to save the world. I just wanted a normal life! I wanted to listen to the bards with my friends. I wanted to chat with Galen out by the forest. I wanted my mother to care about me, without worrying about righting all the wrongs of the world. I wanted to feel the rush of the wind, to hone my fashion sense, to walk through the forest and smell the freshness of the pines and watch the seal pups play. Not get eaten by monsters on the roof of a sagekeep.
A sensation came over me, like someone was pulling the power right out of me. A beam of light shot upward, searing Giles's monstrous form with a blinding flash of flame. Henri vaulted onto the roof, coming out in a roll beside Giles. He raised his arms and unleashed another blast of energy, twin bolts of lightning that struck Giles in the center of his body. The creature's tentacles whipped out at Henri, and he dodged aside.
I recognized the bone-white gauntlets on his arms. They were the relics my father had described in his journal. That's how she did it. My mother had channeled my powers through the relics to kill the first Angel. I watched as Henri burned away a group of monsters charging at him, sending their bodies off the roof. He drew his sword, holding it until it glowed white-hot, and hurled it at Giles. The creature deflected it with a clawed arm, sending the blade to clatter next to me. The weapon left a smoldering brand where it had touched.
I glimpsed Mikael's shining form at the edge of the roof. His eyes met mine for a moment as he slashed at a tusked creature. Power can be used for good, or it can be used for evil. You can't just put it on a shelf and let it gather dust. He was right. Whether I used my power or not, my mother would. She would use me in her experiments, or her soldiers would use my power to defend their secrets.
But Mikael believed in me. He was willing to risk his life, even fight his fellow Angels to save me. He knew that I'd make the right decision.
Giles knocked Henri to the side, hurling him across the roof. I felt out for the gauntlet relics on his hands, listening to their harmonious resonance with my energy. The tentacled creature raised a claw and swung it down at Henri. Twin plumes of flame shot from the relics, raking across Giles's body. The creature bellowed. I grabbed Henri's sword from the roof and started forward, focusing on the blade. Lightning crackled from the steel. Sparks shot out as I walked forward.
The monster turned toward me. Lightning gathered in the sky, and bolts of white energy struck the ground beside me. I had to use my power for something, so I would. I'd use it to protect others. I set off another blast through Henri's gauntlets, searing a pair of tentacles. They hung lifeless, charred by the flames. Giles slammed a clawed fist onto the roof. I leapt aside and cut at him with my sword of lightning.
A tentacle whipped forward, striking me in the stomach. I flew back, colliding with one of the sagekeep's spires. I looked up and met Henri's eyes across the roof. He hurtled to his feet, unleashing a fiery blast from the gauntlets. I rushed at Giles, hacking at him with my lightning sword. The blade sliced clean through his slimy flesh, but not nearly deep enough. Another tentacle threw me the other direction, and I rolled against the roof, coming up beside Henri.
I scrambled to my feet. The gauntlets. I tossed his sword at his feet, and he nodded, releasing the gauntlets and letting them drop. I caught them as they fell, slipping them on. Giles crawled toward us, a black tide of monstrous creatures coming from all directions. I let the power of the gauntlets fill me, raw energy beyond my imagination. I grabbed the sword and felt it blaze with violet fire and crackling lightning.
I ran at Giles, slashing and ducking as I advanced. The tenta
cles battered me, but I kept running, feeling Mikael's and Henri's faith in me carry me on. I raised the blade and plunged the sword into the heart of the writhing mass, and a bright light exploded from the wound. The last thing I remembered was falling, but not hitting the ground.