But as I spread my wings to fly up, Samiel grabbed my ankle. Right. He was an immortal. He could see me even though I would be invisible to a human. Stupid. My brain wasn’t working right. I was too tired from my ordeal in the Maze and, hey, just a little blood loss.

I blasted his hand where it gripped my ankle but he held on tight. It was as if he’d been programmed to destroy me and he was not going to stop. Ever. He dragged me down and began to hit me in the face with the same steady determination that he had used the first time we’d met.

It is very hard to strategize when you are being pummeled to death. But I had a flash of wrapping Antares in a rope of nightfire.

I called up all my strength, all my will, all the power that had helped me survive the Maze. The clearing was suddenly lit with a blaze of sunlight, and I knew that it came from me.

A sinuous strand of nightfire curled out of my palm and wrapped around Samiel’s arms. It whirled around him until he was bound completely from neck to midthigh. He fell to the ground and so did I, my eyes momentarily blinded from sweat and blood, and my head dizzy.

After a minute I was able to get up, collect the sword, and stagger over to Samiel. He sat on the ground wrapped in the nightfire rope, and his face was furious.

I knew that if I killed him, Lucifer would be pissed at me. Amarantha was right—Lucifer was fanatical about his bloodline. But if I didn’t kill Samiel, he would just keep coming after me until he succeeded in pounding me to a pulp.

I raised the sword, intending to cut his head off. He watched me, not flinching, not making any attempt to save his own life. He was angry that he had lost, but there was also something resigned in his face.

That resignation made me stop, made me lower the sword to the ground.

Samiel shook his head at me, and he seemed angrier still that I had halted his execution. “Ed-by.”

“Ed-by?” I said. “What is that, some kind of demon curse?”

“Ed-by!” he shouted. “Ed-by, ed-by, ed-by, ed-by!”

Something in the rhythm of his words reminded me of the vision I’d had of him and Focalor in the Forbidden Lands. Ed-by. Enemy.

“Enemy?” I repeated and as I looked at him all the pieces clicked together.

Samiel’s total silence in the face of pain. The grunting and gesturing he’d used to communicate with Focalor. The strange pronunciation of “enemy.”

Samiel couldn’t hear.

“Ed-by!” he shouted, and his green eyes were filled with furious tears that ran down his face. “Ed-by! ED-BY!”

I backed away, shaking my head. Suddenly he didn’t seem like first cousin to the Terminator. He seemed like a lost and broken child. He’d come after me because he had seen me harm his mother, and now that I wouldn’t fight him he had nothing left.

I sat down on a rock and covered my face with my right hand. What the hell was I going to do with him? He was an abused kid who’d been raised by two psychopaths. I couldn’t kill him, no matter what he had done to me and mine.

My hand still bled, although the flow seemed to be slowing a bit. I held Lucifer’s sword to the stumps and they cauterized as my wounds had in the Maze. And yes, it hurt like hell and there was a lot of yelling involved.

I ignored Samiel for a moment and crossed the clearing to Gabriel. He still breathed, although it was so slow and shallow that I wasn’t sure how long he would last. I broke the arrow in half and pulled it from his body, grateful that Gabriel was out cold. Then I used the sword to seal the wounds, and turned back to Samiel.

He was rocking in the center of the clearing, his legs straight in front of him like a child’s. He kept repeating “ed-by” over and over again.

I knelt in front of him and put my hands under his chin so he would look up at me. He yanked his face away from my touch and I dropped my hands.

“I am not your enemy,” I said slowly and clearly. I’d seen him communicate with Focalor in the Forbidden Lands, so I assumed that he could read lips.

“Ed-by,” he repeated stubbornly.

I shook my head. “Not your enemy.”

“Ed-by!” he shouted.

I held up my hand to show him my missing fingers. “I have paid a blood price for harming your mother. Our quarrel is over.”

He stopped shouting at me and looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. He clearly understood me if I spoke carefully.

“Dead,” he said, although it was a struggle for him.

“I did not kill your mother,” I said. “Ramuell killed her.”

This was true. I had fought Ariell to a standstill, but Ramuell had eaten her.

His eyes filled with tears again. “Dead.”

“Yes,” I said. “But I am not your enemy.”

He hung his head, and tears dripped off his face. I hated to keep him wrapped in the nightfire rope. It had to be causing him horrible pain even if he didn’t express it.

I released the spell that held the rope together, and suddenly Samiel was free. He looked up at me in astonishment.

I stayed crouched where I was, only a few inches away. I was taking a terrible chance. If I hadn’t gotten through to him, he would probably descend on me before I was able to respond.

“I am not your enemy,” I repeated again.

Then I put my hand over my heart, and reached my broken hand toward his chest. He went as still as a deer that hears a wolf in the forest. I covered his heart with my hand.

“Friend,” I said.

He looked down at my hand on his chest, the one that was missing two fingers, then up at me. His gaze was still suspicious.

“Friend,” I said again.

He closed his hand around mine, and I was struck anew by his overwhelming strength. I think he meant to be gentle but he was crushing my remaining fingers in a death grip.

I nodded, trying not to show how much he was hurting me. If I yanked my hand away, he might change his mind and decide to attack.

He gave my fingers a final squeeze, and then let go. I exhaled the breath that I had been holding and stood up. Samiel stood up, too, looking lost.

“Do you know the way to Amarantha’s castle?” I asked him.

He looked puzzled.

“Faerie castle?” I tried again. There was no reason for him to know the queen’s name.

His face cleared and he nodded.

I gestured toward Gabriel. “Can you carry your brother?”

Samiel glanced at Gabriel in surprise, then back at me. I knew what he was asking.

“Same father,” I said. “Ramuell.”

Samiel closed his eyes, and it seemed that he was not reliving happy familial memories. I could only imagine what it must have been like for him, growing up in the Forbidden Lands with an insane angel for a mother and a murderous nephilim for a father.

Then he opened his eyes again, and gently lifted Gabriel into his arms. There was a heartbreaking tenderness on his face.

He smiled for the first time, and it was like seeing the first blossoms of spring after a long winter.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” I said.

That was when Beezle flapped into the clearing, looking completely exhausted. Samiel tightened his grip on Gabriel and stood in front of me, as if to protect me.

I put my hand on his shoulder and made sure he was looking at my face. “It’s okay. Beezle’s a friend.”

Samiel looked doubtful, but he stepped aside.

Beezle landed on a tree branch, looking super grouchy. “What in the four hells has been taking you so long? I’ve been looking for the stupid Maze for the last two days.”

“Two days?” I said. I hadn’t realized that much time had passed. “What were you doing looking for me, anyway? I thought you’d given me up as a lost cause.”

“Don’t be a dork, Maddy,” Beezle scoffed, grooming one of his wings and studiously avoiding my eyes. “I’ve never given up on you yet.”

I blinked and felt a tear rolling down my cheek. Beezle looked up and frowned.

“Well, don’t get all sappy about it, all right? I’m here now, we’re reunited, I knew you would succeed, yay. And who’s the big fella holding on to Gabriel?”

“Samiel,” I said.

He crinkled his forehead. “The son of Ramuell and Ariell?”

I nodded.

“The one who tried to kill you?”

“Twice,” I said.

“Is there a reason why he’s walking along next to you like he’s out for a Sunday stroll?”

“He’s coming home with us,” I said. I wondered what Lucifer would think of that.

“What are we, some kind of halfway house for nephilim children?” Beezle said. “I hope he doesn’t like popcorn, because I’m not sharing any of mine.”

I smiled at Beezle as he settled on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. There will be enough popcorn for everyone, especially you.”

He glanced down at my left hand, the cauterized and bloody remains of my last two fingers. “I thought you told me you’d come back in one piece.”

“I’ve still got all the pieces that matter,” I said.

“Let’s go shock the hell out of Amarantha,” he said, shifting around to make himself more comfortable. “Wake me up when we get there.”

17

TO SAY THAT WE CAUSED A STIR WHEN WE ENTERED the throne room would be an understatement. I threw the doors open and strode ahead of Samiel. I must have been a sight to see—my torn clothes, my missing fingers, my face swollen and blackened from Samiel’s punches, and trailing behind me a strange half angel carrying Gabriel.

Amarantha was perched on the edge of her throne when we entered. Focalor sat beside her on a low stool, and he had obviously just said something to make her laugh when I entered. When she saw us, the smile faded from her face. Focalor blinked at me in surprise.

I came to a stop before them, the assembled courtiers whispering all around us. Samiel sidled up to me and pressed his arm against mine. I could tell that the crowd made him nervous and I gave him a reassuring little shoulder bump.