What happened next was as quick as it was unexpected. Raven saw Nilia flex her knees slightly as she spread out her arms, poised for attack—a bit like a karate black belt at the beginning of a fight but with one outrageous difference: two enormous, dark wings sprang forth from her back. The members of Diago’s group, who had them surrounded, instantly reacted in exactly the same way. A pair of white wings unfolded on each one of them as they prepared for the imminent battle. Raven admired their wings in astonishment. They looked like the wings of a gigantic eagle and had different thicknesses and hues, but they were all much lighter in color than Nilia’s.

  “Wait! Don’t move!” ordered Diago. He was the only one who hadn’t shown his wings. The rest of them seemed to settle back a little, but they didn’t take their eyes off Nilia. “You’re signing your own death sentence,” he said to her. “Even a traitor like you should know we are ruled by a code. Our orders are to capture Raven. You may be one of the strongest of the Fallen but what you’re doing is pure stupidity.”

  “I am one of the strongest, but not only of the Fallen, and you’re going to have the honor of confirming that.”

  “I still don’t understand this. You’re going to risk your life for a Minor?”

  “Well, you know, that’s just how I am. Raven doesn’t want to go with you; he doesn’t like you. I suppose it might be because you’ve been hounding him for years, but in any case, I feel compelled to help anyone who is half as revolted by you as I am. What can I say—I’m a sentimental girl.”

  Raven was stunned by their conversation. The Fallen? That’s how Diago had referred to the group Nilia was a part of. The truth was timidly creeping into the recesses of his mind, but it was hard to accept it. He pushed his brain to look for some other explanation but that was about as useful as wishing the Fog away. All his conclusions brought him to the same absurd realization. The signs were all right there in front of him—the wings, immortals, the Fallen . . . It was too incredible, too inconceivable, too extraordinary to grasp. He just could not comprehend anything of that magnitude.

  “Turn the Minor over to us,” demanded Diago. “This is your last chance.”

  Minor. So that’s what he was. Just coming to that realization made Raven’s head hurt. He was having trouble following the conversation now; it was as though their voices were coming from somewhere far off.

  “We also have the Minor to thank for Edmon’s death,” Vyns weighed in, taking a step forward. “I’m not leaving here without appropriately thanking him.”

  Could that be true? Raven didn’t remember having killed any of them, at least not intentionally. But if he had done it, it meant he’d killed a . . .

  “I thank him for that as well.” Nilia looked at Raven and motioned for him to stand beside her. He came forward with a lost look on his face and perspiration across his brow. “Killing an angel deserves my deepest appreciation.”

  She’d said it aloud. He no longer had to try to deduce anything or come to any conclusions. He had confirmation of what he’d already known but was afraid to admit. He was in the midst of a conflict between angels and demons.

  “We can resolve this honorably,” suggested Nilia, almost spitting out the last word. “What do you think, Diago? You and me, and may the best one win. You can bring Vyns. We left something undone during the War, remember?”

  “We didn’t leave anything undone,” Vyns corrected. “Are you still furious because you couldn’t catch me? You are so resentful,” he added with a smile.

  “You escaped. You fled like the coward you are.” Nilia almost sounded hurt. “You were lucky you could fly off. My wings were broken.”

  “They ordered me to defend another position.” Vyns took a step forward. “We did not flee. It’s typical for a traitor like you not to understand that.”

  “If that’s what you have to tell yourself to feel better . . .”

  “That’s enough, Vyns. Don’t take part in her little game.” Vyns stepped back into the semicircle they’d made in front of Nilia and Raven. “You don’t know anything about honor, Nilia. We serve a higher cause. Your words mean nothing. Your time has run out. Raven is coming with us now.”

  In a split second, Nilia grabbed Raven by the back of the neck and lifted him in the air with total ease. In her free hand appeared a glowing red dagger; she skillfully placed it under the tip of the human’s chin, threatening to slit his throat. Taken by surprise, it took Raven a moment to understand what had happened. He was in the air, facing Diago, clumsily flailing his legs. He brought his hand up behind his head, struggling to get hold of Nilia’s arm.

  Vyns and two other angels immediately reacted. In their hands shone blazing swords. Raven stared at them, stupefied. The handles of the swords didn’t look unusual, at least from where he was, but the blades were impressive. They looked like they were solid flames. Glowing as bright as molten iron, a flame completely enveloped them. The edges of the blades were a light bluish green from the hilt to the point. The combined flames were like a bonfire, though different in a most surprising way—they burned in absolute silence. They made only the softest whistling sound when they cut the air, leaving a yellowish tail in their wake. Although Raven wasn’t close enough to feel it, he was convinced these amazing weapons radiated no heat. And it wasn’t merely how they looked; the only law of physics the fire didn’t break was the propagation of light. The tunnel lit up when the angels unsheathed them and the shadows of their weapons were reflected on their wings.

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  “Stop!” shouted Diago. Vyns and the rest of them stayed in position but lowered their weapons so the points rested on the ground, making no move to return them to their sheaths. Raven watched as the flames ascended the blade toward the hilt, reversing their direction from when they were brandished and pointing at the ceiling. “Are you insane, Nilia? What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Just making sure that, whatever happens, you don’t get what you want.” She squeezed tighter and Raven let out a moan.

  “Stop! Even you could not be that ruthless. If you kill him, I swear—”

  “You are in no position to negotiate!” Nilia moved the dagger to her prisoner’s neck. “This is the last chance I’ll give you. Raven and I are going to walk calmly away from here. Or we can begin this fight and find out which one of us is right about how it will end. But keep this in mind: the first to die will be Raven, and you know perfectly well there’s nothing you can do about it. Then we’ll see who’s next.”

  Diago hesitated a moment and looked down. Raven wondered what might be going through his mind. His own certainly wasn’t in any better shape. From what Nilia had just explained, if they didn’t come to an agreement the only sure thing was that he would be the first to die.

  He was struck by mixed emotions. On the one hand, he was blown away by the fact that Nilia was a demon. The War they’d been talking about must have been the one he’d heard mentioned thousands of times as Satan’s rebellion against God. Nilia was playing with his life as if he were just a pawn in her own personal plan, as if he had no worth other than the fact he was important to her enemies. He’d spent his whole life running from angels and professing his eternal hatred of them for having plunged him into fear and uncertainty. He’d even killed one of them—even if he didn’t remember it.

  On the other hand, he still trusted Nilia. Down deep he wanted them both to make it out of this situation—together. He felt guilty for having healed the girl and alerting Diago when she’d warned him about the consequences. His life was in danger now because he hadn’t listened to her back on the platform. Of course, leaving that girl to die didn’t seem like a viable option to him, either.

  The confusion was too much for him. Managing this situation was way beyond his ability to reason.

  “All right,” Diago grudgingly conceded. I’ll let you go. You turn the Minor over to us and we’ll let you go. If you truly have so little respect for your own life that killing Raven and then trying to finish us off is what you want, go right ahead. I have orders and I will not let him escape again. We are more than prepared to give our lives if necessary.”

  “Do you think I’m that stupid?” said Nilia, her voice full of contempt. “If I let Raven go, you’ll jump on me in an instant. I’m not about to give up my only advantage.”

  “I give you my word,” Diago announced seriously. “Even you must acknowledge my word of honor when I make a commitment. This is the only way out. That, or we start fighting.”

  Several interminable seconds passed when no one spoke. In fact, no one even moved except for Raven, who viewed their utter stillness with amazement.

  “Fine.” Nilia put him down on the ground but did not let go of him or remove the blade from his neck. “Come over here, Diago. Alone. Shake my hand as a gesture that you’re giving me your word and I’ll turn the Minor over to you.”

  “No!” shouted Raven. “You can’t hand me over! I’m sorry about the girl, I . . .”

  He fell silent when a blow to his stomach knocked the wind out of him. His reflex was to double over to cope with the pain, but since she was still clutching his neck, the most he could manage was to clumsily thrash his feet. Nilia’s betrayal hurt him a thousand times worse than the punch she’d dealt him. His hopes of escaping with her went up in smoke the minute he heard her agree to give up his life to save her own.

  Diago motioned with his hand, and Vyns came up to him and said something to him that, judging by the look on his face, Diago apparently did not much care for. Diago again made the same motion with his hand and Vyns went back to his original position. Then the leader of the angels slowly and carefully stepped forward toward them. He had a harsh look on his face but carried no weapon and kept his wings folded. He stopped one step away from Nilia.

  “Let Raven go,” he said, extending his arm, his hand open. “You have my word; we’ll let you go without harming you in any way,” he added, his voice sounding as if each and every word was costing him a supreme effort.

  “A deal is a deal,” she said with a forced smile.

  Nilia released him and held out her hand. When she took Diago’s hand she jerked him toward her so quickly that Diago, who was not expecting it, fell forward and landed flat on his face just inches from the pit with the Fog.

  Vyns and the rest of the group sprang forward, brandishing their flaming swords and beating their wings. Raven was petrified when he saw nine fiery swords advancing on them, whistling as they left faint yellow trails behind them. If it hadn’t been for the terrifying situation he was in, he might have enjoyed the magnificent show unfolding before him. It was like being in a dream. And much to his surprise, he was not afraid for himself. He had no idea what Nilia was scheming but she had not given him up to Diago and, for the moment, that was enough to give him a glimmer of hope.

  Nilia moved to the wall on their right in two quick sideways strides. Wielding one of her daggers—which was now surrounded by an aura as black as the night—Nilia delivered a violent strike to the wall. The subway tunnel trembled, then rumbled with a long, low thundering. The ensuing cave-in deposited tons of debris between them and the nine angels that were descending on them.