Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Marduk nodded. “Add that to the rest, and you have had too many destabilizing events within a short period.”
Only an immortal of Marduk’s age would term a span of over a millennium as short.
“It has ramped up to the extreme in the last quarter century,” Marduk continued, “but even that concentration of events would not have been enough to tip the scales if not for the previous incidents involving the deaths of multiple archangels within as short a lifetime as Raphael’s.”
“Are you saying the Mantle is failing because our kind has suffered shock after shock?” Alexander scowled. “Surely it would’ve fallen before were that the case. This can’t be the most unstable period of all.”
“It is,” Marduk said bluntly. “If we don’t take into account the period that resulted in the eventual birth of the mortals. That was worse. But this . . . this is another lethal wave in the timeline of angelic history.”
Raphael sat back, his head spinning. He’d thought this chaos of existence normal. The last decade had been one of the most stable he’d ever experienced—and even then, they’d had to deal with lingering reborn and vampiric uprisings. “Are you saying archangels can go entire millennia in peace, without madness, without wars?”
All the Ancients stared at him.
And he knew the answer before Titus said “Shite!” and rubbed his hands over his face. “That the youngest of us can’t even comprehend the idea of a time of extended peace is confirmation of Marduk’s words.”
If they excluded Suyin, who had only ruled since after the war, Titus was the second youngest in the present Cadre in terms of the length of his rule. Yet it was clear from his words that he had experienced a time of peace and calm.
“Is there a solution?” Suyin’s quiet voice tempered by the steel in her spine.
Raphael knew he wasn’t the only one holding his breath.
49
“Yes.”
Marduk’s response sent a cacophony of questions into the air. But the archangel out of time waited until they’d died down to speak. “This knowledge should be part of your history.” His eyes were no longer angelic but of the other part of his nature. “It should never have been lost, not when the old ones put processes in place to ensure it would pass from one archangel to the next.”
Caliane’s brow furrowed. “It has been an eternity since your time, even longer since theirs. The Ancestors are legends to us, ghosts of a past long forgotten.”
But Marduk sliced out a hand. “This was set in place for eternity. But that is a problem to fix after we fix the Mantle.” He leaned forward, both elbows on his thighs. “You must reset the #?**!!”
Raphael winced, while the others hissed out pained breaths or gritted their teeth. Because the word Marduk had spoken had no meaning to them beyond being a string of guttural sounds that hurt the ear.
Marduk looked from one to the other, a scowl on his face. “In the new language, it would translate to . . . the Compass.”
“A compass?” Aegaeon threw up his arms. “What use is a compass?”
“It’s not an actual compass,” Marduk growled with the first hint of temper. “It is merely the closest word in the current tongue. You, it seems, cannot speak its true name.”
“What is it?” Alexander asked, and it was the practical question of the general he’d been before his ascension. “An object?”
“The Compass was created by the combined power of the old ones,” Marduk answered. “Such power as you cannot imagine. The subcomponents will never wear, no matter how many eons are to pass, and the base, too, is endless and self-regenerating.”
The hairs on Raphael’s arms rose up at the idea of an object of such age, a thousand questions in his mind.
“The subcomponents are tied to archangelic blood. No one but a member of the Cadre can hold on to one. Another being might pick it up, but they will be overcome within moments with the urge to put it down and walk away.”
“How?” Titus demanded, the gold of his breastplate shining under the chandelier his love had created. “You are talking of power that bends time to its own will.”
“There is a reason the old ones Sleep forever.” Marduk’s tone was ominous. “Their world is gone, their time is gone, their power too damaging for this world.”
“You’re saying even if these subcomponents, these pieces of the Compass, have been misplaced”—Elijah frowned—“they will be misplaced within an archangel’s territory?”
“Closer. An archangel’s home or other trusted place they frequent.” Marduk leaned back in his chair, slapping his hands to his spread thighs. “The tie is absolute. Each piece will always attach itself to one archangel. No archangel can hold two.”
“What about in times like now?” Zanaya demanded. “When we no longer have a full Cadre?”
“It doesn’t matter. A subcomponent is only ‘alive’ when it has an archangel with whom to resonate. So for you . . . you must find eight. The dormant pieces aren’t part of the equation.”