A Fey New World (The Godhunter #32) - Amy Sumida Page 0,99

surged forth on its own?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“It did.” he gave me a wounded look. “I may not have been able to stop it from spreading, but I was able to guide it in small ways. I did what I could to help them and I will continue to do so.”

“Oh,” I deflated. “Good. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Azrael grinned. “Would you like to fly up to its branches and take a closer look?”

I stared up at the ebony branches that swayed ever so slightly despite the fact that they were too massive to be moved by any breeze. “Uh. No, I've changed my mind. Let's go to the Louvre.”

“The museum?” Azrael frowned.

“Yes, the museum.” I gave him a long look. “You love art, Azrael. Maybe even more than I do.”

Az blinked and considered this. “You're right, I do. Very well.” His wings whooshed open. “Let's go to the Louvre.”

I spread my wings and launched myself into the night sky. I had to admit that it was glorious to fly freely across the world with Azrael beside me. We had flown over human cities before but always hidden under magic. Now, I could see him beside me. The moon glinted off Azrael's golden horns and softened his fey features. He was still in there, just past the madness and ferocity. The magic hadn't won yet.

We flew over Paris and I had to admit its new look was beautiful. The historic architecture was enhanced by the climbing vines and alien flowers. The cracked streets, sprouting trees in a rainbow of colors and mazes of thorny thickets, looked like a watercolor painting from above. The wrought-iron balconies and gates were perfect for hosting fragrant night blooms, and will-o'-the-wisps danced through the dark alleys, shining on prowling predators whose feral beauty came alive in the glowing light. Echoing cries of night creatures and the scent of exotic flowers filled the air.

But the flora was consuming, the fauna dangerous, and several buildings had changed into other things entirely. The city that had survived bombings and fires and all manner of destruction was buckling beneath the weight of wild magic from another realm. Most of its citizens hid in what was left of their homes, windows covered tightly (in some cases boarded), and those who walked the streets were either armed heavily or transformed.

Gangs of ex-humans stalked the streets. Muscles bulging beneath patches of fur, scales, or pebbled hide; long hair twining with feathers, or horns, or leaves; teeth tapering into dangerous points; and limbs ending in hooves or talons. They weren't any race of faerie I'd ever seen but instead, a new race. The Wild Fey—that's what Azrael had called them. They stopped what they were doing to watch us soar above them, then howled and roared at us. I wasn't sure if it were in greeting or warning.

Then we reached the Louvre.

The famous glass pyramid had survived the magic but had become a greenhouse, full to the top with plants, some of which glowed. The buildings that curved around the pyramid glowed as well, lit by fey lichen and flowers. Whole sections of architecture had been transformed into crystal, trees, and, in one case, a waterfall. The front entrance was gone, but we found a way in through a tangle of vines that drew aside like a curtain at Azrael's approach.

Azrael held his arm out to me as if we were entering a ballroom. I took it and let him lead me inside. Light bloomed above us, arcing across the domed ceiling, as we strode forth, and sleeping flowers opened their petals for the Faerie God. The thick bushes that spotted the cracked marble floors rustled and creatures ventured out of their hiding places to stare at Azrael in fascination. Furred things with huge eyes, scaled things that spat flames, little things that flew on insect wings, dark things that vanished into mist, and slimy things that surfaced from marshy puddles—they all paid their respects to their god.

Azrael waved his hand and the foliage coating the walls parted, revealing precious paintings by dead artists. I left his side to go to the art, inspecting each piece carefully for any damage. Painting after painting was revealed, all unharmed, and although the ancient statues on display were now adorned with plant life, they were also whole. Well, as whole as they had been before the world went fey.

“They're all right,” I said in relief.

“Of course, they are.” Azrael took my hand and started