said, but it's so weird to think of you as brothers.
We were all a family at one point.
Yeah, but, like, forever ago.
You think just because something's been one way for a few thousand years, that it's fixed across eternity. Daniel shook his head. Everything is in flux. I was with Cam at the Dawn of Time, and I'll see him through the End Times.
Shelby's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. You think Cam's going to come back around? Like, see the light side again?
Daniel started to stand. Nothing stays the same forever.
What about your love with Luce? Miles asked.
That stopped Daniel cold. That's changing, too. She'll be different, after this experience. I just hope ... He looked down at Miles, who was still seated on the bank, and Daniel realized he didn't hate Miles. In their recklessly idiotic way, the Nephilim had been trying to help.
For the first time, Daniel could say truthfully that he didn't need help anymore; he'd gotten all the help he needed along the way from each of his past selves. Now, finally, he was ready to catch up with Luce.
Why was he still standing here?
It's time for you two to go home, he said, helping Shelby, then Miles to their feet.
No, Shelby said, reaching for Miles, who gave her hand a squeeze. We made a pact. We're not going back until we know she's--
It won't be long, Daniel said. I think I know where to find her, and it's no place you two can go.
Come on, Shel. Miles was already peeling away the shadow cast by the olive tree near the riverbank. It pooled and swirled in his hands and looked unwieldy for a moment, like potter's clay about to spin off the wheel. But then Miles reined it in, spinning it into an impressively large black portal. He pressed open the Announcer lightly, gesturing for Shelby to step through first.
You're getting good at that. Daniel had drawn up his own Announcer, summoning it from the shadow of his own body. It trembled before him. Because the Nephilim were not here through their own past experiences, they would have to leapfrog from Announcer to Announcer to get back to their own time. It would be difficult, and Daniel did not envy them their journey, but he did envy them because they were going home.
Daniel. Shelby's head popped out of the Announcer. Her body looked warped and dim through the shadows. Good luck.
She waved, and Miles waved, and the two of them stepped through. The shadow closed in on itself, collapsing into a dot just before it vanished.
Daniel didn't see that happen. He was already gone.
Cold wind gnawed into him.
He sped through, faster than he'd ever traveled before, back to a place, and a time, to which he'd never thought he would return.
Hey, a voice called out. It was raspy and blunt and seemed to come from right beside Daniel. Slow down, will ya?
Daniel jerked away from the sound. Who are you? he shouted into the invisible darkness. Make yourself known.
When nothing appeared before him, Daniel unfurled his rippling white wings--as much to challenge the intruder inside his Announcer as to help slow him down. They lit up the Announcer with their glow, and Daniel felt the tension inside him ease a little.
Fully extended, his wings spanned the width of the tunnel. Their narrow tips were the most sensitive to touch; when they brushed against the dank walls of the Announcer, it gave Daniel a queasy, claustrophobic feeling.
In the darkness before him, a figure slowly filtered into view.
First, the wings: undersized and gossamer-thin. Then the body deepened in color just enough for Daniel to see a small, pale angel sharing his Announcer. Daniel did not know him. The angel's features were soft and innocent-looking, like a baby's. In the cramped tunnel, his fine blond hair blew across his silver eyes in the wind that Daniel's wings sent back each time they pulsed. He looked so young, but of course, he was just as old as any of them.
Who are you? Daniel asked again. How did you get in here? Are you Scale?
Yes. Despite his innocent, infantile appearance, the angel's voice was gravel-deep. He reached behind his back for a moment, and Daniel thought perhaps he was hiding something there--perhaps one of his kind's trapping devices--but the angel simply turned around to reveal the scar on the back of his neck. The seven-pointed gold insignia of the Scale. I'm Scale. His deep voice was rough and clotted. I'd