my hands entwined with Tascius and Belial’s. “I don’t think so, but don’t quote me on that. I touched him. Physically, I mean. The Chain didn’t want me to get too close, but I just managed to brush his shoulder.” I looked back up at Azazel. “He felt like he was burning, Azazel. It was like touching a fire. But even if he didn’t see me, he seemed to sense something was there. He was trying to reach back out when the Chain pulled me away again.”
Azazel nodded slowly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Perhaps the Chain had the right of it.”
“So you know this land?” Tascius asked, his metallic eyes focused on the Watcher. “You looked like you knew what she was speaking of.”
Azazel’s jaw tightened, just a fractional movement that gave away so much about his feelings. “I have very strong suspicions, but I want to scry the area myself before I claim anything with greater confidence.”
I leaned forward. “And if you’re right, we’re going. Let’s all agree now. The moment we know where they are, we go.”
He gave me a sharp look. “Satan is with him, Melisande. The Sword is in pieces.”
“We have a smith,” I countered. “I’m sure Wayland will put it back together.”
Azazel’s eyes softened. I knew he would go with my plan, unwilling to blunt my hopes. “If Wayland can touch the pieces, then we’ll have it remade. But we’re not rushing in without a plan.”
I nodded, but my mind was now a million miles away. I didn’t think my hopes were wrong at all. Having faith that everything would be well was how I made it through the darkness; I wouldn’t lose it now.
Not when everyone needed it the most.
13
Melisande
Tascius looped an arm around my waist, looking down into the abyss below. “Ready to go in?”
Without total faith in the ability of my wings to support my weight, I was feeling actual vertigo for once. The depths of the Pit seemed so much more shallow when I knew I could pull myself out; right now, I mostly just felt a sense of impending dread while peering towards the invisible bottom.
I felt for the pouch tied to my belt, ensuring it was firmly attached to me. “Ready. Let’s drop.”
Tascius leaned forward and plunged into the drop, bringing me with him.
The air whipped my hair up behind me as we fell, plummeting right through the icy, pale blue fire that shocked me and crept over my skin like lightning.
When the spires of the towers below came into sight, Tascius’s wings spread wide and caught the air, slowing our plummeting descent to a gentle fall. He gripped me even tighter, his brow furrowed with concentration as he found a clear landing spot on the black floor.
As soon as he put me down, I unhooked the bag’s loops from my belt and pulled it open. “Maybe you should let me handle this part. Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean it’s inert.”
Tascius shrugged one broad shoulder, looking around the Pit with a suspicious eye. “We don’t know until we try.”
I didn’t complain about his unsubtle recon of the area. The assassin in the Sixth Circle had been far too close a call for my liking, and for all we knew, the loyalists had moved into the Pit as soon as Satan left.
Far above us, Azazel was in his shadowy raven form, circling over the entrance to the abyss like a vulture. As we’d agreed, if anyone stepped foot near here while we were at the bottom, he wouldn’t hesitate to swallow their souls.
I’d tried to convince him to at least get an explanation, but no one was willing to be that lenient, and with the potential for more angry assassins, I couldn’t say I’d fought too hard against their bullheadedness.
But it was dead silent down here. Not even the wind overhead could be heard; it was a silence so complete it pressed in on my ears, with the exception of Tascius’s soft footfalls and our breathing.
I found the remnants of the broken Sword of Light almost immediately, thanks to the soft glow Tascius now seemed to permanently give off. The pale light glinted off the silver shards scattered across the floor and caught the warmth of gold; the hilt laid there forlornly as though waiting for me to pick it up, surrounded by its broken body.
I bent low and picked up a shard of metal, twisting it between my fingertips. It was a clean break, not even