far more ancient even than the oak, beyond immortal to timeless. Gran Bwa, Loa of the trees and Earth, one of Voudon’s most powerful mage spirits had answered Lucinda’s call. He wasn’t alone. I blinked my eyes, trying to make sure I was seeing right, but I glimpsed a huge, white snake above me, its massive body coiled round and round the thick trunk of the Angel Oak. It was Damballah Wedo, one of the oldest Loa, a source of life itself.
I felt the Loas’ power tingle down the bark of the huge old tree, and sensed the awareness that was the Angel Oak connected with the ancient and powerful beings that had taken rest in its branches. My touch magic saw it all in images, not words, but I knew the tree and its guests had come to an agreement.
The Angel Oak began to glow, as if millions of fireflies alighted on every inch of its huge, twisting branches and its thousands of leaves. Standing beneath its gigantic canopy, hands on its rough trunk, I could feel the thrum of old power, as sure and steady as a river’s course. I willed myself into that flow, committing my magic to it, drawing it up through me heedless of the cost, knowing that such power was not made for mortals to wield.
I thought of all the blood that soaked the ground beneath the Angel Oak. Our blood. Nephilim and Watcher blood. Legends say blood does strange things to trees. Now, that ancient tree was waking up.
Teag felt it too, and so did Lucinda. I could see them rally, see the surge of magic fill them with new energy. The Watchers weren’t of this world. They couldn’t draw on that power. But we could.
Teag snapped his whip blade, and the silver-edged razor sang through the air, slicing through Watcher Four’s back and laying open his ribs. He got the fallen angel on the blade’s recoil as well, slicing through the muscles and tendons that would have held the wings if the Watcher transformed. His opponent gave a feral cry and turned on Teag, just in time for the long razor-sharp blade to snake across the attacker’s perfect face, cutting into the cheek, blinding him in one eye and taking off half his nose.
I heard a crunching, crackling noise and yelped as the ground beneath my feet trembled. The Angel Oak’s roots rippled beneath the dirt, then tough tendrils burst from the hard-packed ground, and wrapped themselves around Watcher Four’s feet.
Teag had his fighting net, and he used it to snare the Watcher’s grasping hands as his urumi went for the legs. The flexible blade snapped around the fallen angel’s ankles, and hamstrung him in a spray of blood. In the next heartbeat, Teag’s sword took Watcher Four’s head right off his shoulders. Another one bites the dust…
I raised my walking stick and pointed it at Watcher Two, who was still standing despite everything Daniel and Father Anne threw at him. I thought about Helen Butler and Edwin Thompson, about the nurses at Palmetto Meadows and the old ladies who took such joy from Baxter’s visits. I thought about how horribly they died, trapped in flames and smoke, because of Sariel. I took all my regret and remorse over not being able to save them, and turned it into molten hot vengeance. Then I willed the power of the Angel Oak and its unearthly visitors to channel through me, through my walking stick. Maybe it would kill me. Maybe not. But I would be avenged.
A torrent of flames burst from the tip of the old walking stick. I felt the power sweep up from the roots and down through the trunk, heard the hiss of Damballah Wedo and the soft lilt of Gran Bwa, felt the presence that was the Angel Oak and let it all flow through me, growing hot in my rage and sorrow, and felt it explode through the walking stick.
The fire didn’t just hit Watcher Two. It incinerated him.
Chuck was covered with blood. Some of it was his own. Most of it, I hoped, was from the fallen angels he had blown to bits. Now, he leveled his shotgun with the odd wires at Watcher One on the other side of the Angel Oak, the one who had eluded the roots that grasped for his feet and ankles and was streaking toward Lucinda faster than Daniel Hunter could intercept.
The shotgun barked and something streaked out of it. Instead