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The midnight sun was something Imorean knew would take adjusting to. He was glad of the orange blackout curtains over his sliding, glass door. It was still strange to wake up early in the morning to find the sun already up. It never quite dropped from the sky. Even at midnight, it remained on the line of the horizon, a burning, orange ball. He had a horrible feeling Michael would use this to extend their training hours.
Imorean swung his legs out of bed and dressed in darkness. He didn’t want to open his curtains. It felt much more natural to dress while it was still dark. He pulled on a plain colored shirt and racked his brains. Kadia was arriving today. What on Earth did Michael want him to do with her? Surely, she already knew how to hold a sword? What if she didn’t? Imorean shook his head. He didn’t know at what level the rest of the students were working anymore. He paused for a fraction. He was out of touch with his fellow students. It was no wonder he preferred to be here at Felsenmeer. At least here he didn’t feel like an outcast.
Imorean rested a hand on his doorknob and glanced at himself in the mirror. The remnants of a graze on the side of his face still held onto his cheekbone. His dark, gray shirt, fatigues and boots made him look older and taller, but that could have been helped by the bluish shadows under his eyes. He furrowed his brow. He was only eighteen years old. Somehow, he looked forty. He took a deep, heavy breath and turned away, pulling the door open and leaving his bedroom. They shouldn’t even be taking on a new squad member now. Not when Toddy was being held as Vortigern’s prisoner. Not when Mandy and Dustin were dead. It wasn’t right. Imorean dug his hands into his pockets. Michael’s decision felt like a betrayal.
“Imorean,” called Colton.
A few strands of hair fell into Imorean’s eyes as he looked up. Colton stood in the doorway to the stairwell. Imorean quickened his step and joined him. Flying in front of him felt cruel. He would much rather be ground bound when he was around Colton.
“What’s up?” asked Colton. “You look preoccupied.”
Imorean felt his frown deepen. “We shouldn’t be having another member added to our squad. Toddy is still alive. It – it feels like we’re abandoning him. Having someone come in and take his place, you know?”
Colton sighed. “I understand, Imorean. I really do. Did you ever think, though, even if we did get Toddy free, he’d be too badly injured to come back to us?”
Imorean faltered a step. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered what Colton said. Hearing it said aloud, though ... that was more painful. It became real.
“He’ll be fine. I’ve run into Vortigern no less than three times now and I’m fine,” snapped Imorean, his voice angrier than he’d intended. He paused at the bottom of the stairs. Colton had frozen in place two steps behind him. “What?”
Brown eyes narrowed as Colton came down the last two steps, and Imorean shrank away as Colton reached out.
“You’re not fine. You say you are, but you’re not,” said Colton. His voice was so quiet Imorean had to strain to hear his words. “But me, Roxy, even the Archangels ... we know better.”
Colton’s hand landed on Imorean’s right wing and spread the feathers. A sharp breath worked its way down Imorean’s nose and he resisted the urge to jerk away. On both of his wings now were black streaks – remnants of his encounters with Vortigern. Every time any demon equipment or demon steel struck his wings, a horrible, black scar was left behind. The worst of these feather scars was the first he ever received. A massive, black blotch on his right wing.
“Every single time you’ve come into contact with Vortigern, you’ve come away with one of these. You try to hide it, but they’re not just scars on your wings. They’re on you, too. Toddy’s been around Vortigern since springtime. I can’t imagine how much he’s been affected. This?” Colton pointed at one of the black scars. “This isn’t fine.”
Imorean tore his wings from Colton’s grip and turned on his heel. “Toddy will be fine. He has to be.”
Imorean took little notice of Colton’s frown as he stalked toward Felsenmeer’s main doors. They opened automatically for him. Outside, he spread his wings wide. He hadn’t been changed by Vortigern. There was no way. He was still Imorean Frayneson. And he was fine. With a sharp downbeat, white wings sent him into the chilled, summer air. He could think much better up here. He needed space.
A powerful snap of wings and Imorean turned in the air. He glanced down. Felsenmeer was below him, a glittering building of glass and brown wood. He picked up a thermal and coasted over it. To the rear of the base was the library annex. A wingbeat. He soared over the obstacle course. Dustin had sprained a wrist there a few months ago. he flew on. Felsenmeer fell away behind him and he caught a new thermal, ascending higher into the sky. Relief flooded his chest. He was alone, level with some of the low mountain peaks. Even now in early summer, they still reared snow-capped heads. One wing tilted and he slipped down in the sky, descending.
Summer flowers reared their heads, lupine plants turned the hillsides purple and small stones dotted the landscape. Imorean grinned. The ruggedness of Baffin Island never failed to awe him. He spread his wings as wide as they could go, feeling each primary slice the air. Powerful, falcon feathers cut through the sky, itching to go faster. He pulled his primaries closer together, pointing his wings. He grinned as he picked up speed. The wind was in his favor, helping to blow out the thoughts plaguing his mind. Just for a few seconds, he could leave behind his worries about Vortigern, about his squad, about their newcomer Kadia, even his worries about Toddy and himself. For these precious seconds, he was free.
Then the thought crashed in. Angry and abrasive. “Where are you?”
Imorean groaned. Michael had noticed his absence. “I’m out flying. What is it?”
A pause. “Return to Felsenmeer at once.”
Gritting his teeth, Imorean extended his wings and swooped upward, doubling back in a wide arc. As though his fears and worries met him halfway, the flight back to Felsenmeer felt slower and heavier than his escaping sprint had been.
Much sooner than he would have liked, he felt tough grass squelch under his boots as he landed in front of Felsenmeer’s doors. He glanced over his shoulder. Both of Felsenmeer’s annexed outbuildings were dark and silent. Empty. Michael must have contacted him from the main building.
The double doors slid open as Imorean entered. He swallowed. Michael stood in the center of the entrance hall, arms folded. Imorean paused as he spotted his own sword leaning up against the back of one of the couches.
“Hey,” said Imorean, trying to keep his voice cordial. The annoyance in the air left a bitter taste on his tongue.
“Does that mean nothing to you?” snapped Michael, green eyes flitting sideways. Imorean followed Michael’s line of sight. His sword.
A confused frown pulled Imorean’s cheeks and he looked back at Michael. “It means a lot to me. You know that.”
“It would hardly seem so,” snorted Michael. He picked up the weapon and weighed it in his hands, then pulled the white blade from its sheath and looked down the length, dropping the leather scabbard to the floor.
“What is up with you?” snapped Imorean, taking a step toward his discarded scabbard. “What’s up with everyone this morning?”
“Do not move,” snarled Michael, extending his arm. Imorean couldn’t help but notice how tightly Michael gripped his sword handle. A monstrous anger in that green gaze froze him in place. “We gave you these weapons first and foremost to keep you safe. Killing demons comes as a secondary task. Yet you, you, of all hybrids, insist on leaving your best weapon far from your own reach.”
Imorean blinked. “No one is going to attack me here.”
“Is that what you thought in North Carolina?”
“This isn’t North Carolina.”
Something silver lashed past him, slicing through the air so fast he felt a breeze on his cheek. Imorean leaped sideways. There was a dull thud behind him. Horrified, he turned. His sword was embedded in one of the wooden pillars framing the doors.
“Have you gone nuts?” shouted Imorean, turning back.
One eyebrow crooked upward. “Have you?”
“I didn’t just throw an angel sword at someone!”
“No. But someone may throw one at you, regardless of how close you are to Felsenmeer.” Michael pointed to himself. “I will not always be around to defend you from attacks. That sword is the only thing that will protect you at all times. I thought that you, of all angels, would know that by now. Or should I concern myself with finding a better, more conscientious squad leader?”
“What? No!”
“Then carry that with you at all times unless otherwise ordered. Am I clear?”
“You’re insane.” Imorean regretted his words as Michael’s face hardened.
“Am I clear, Frayneson?”
Imorean looked at his sword, still jutting out of the wooden pillar. “Crystal.”
“If we are ever to defeat Vortigern, you must stay alive, Imorean,” said Michael. His voice softened. “If we are ever to shut him down permanently, we need you with us. I would be loath to lose you if it were simply due to the fact that you were unarmed.”
“I get it. You don’t need to lecture me, Michael.”
“I hope I have made my point.”
“Yep.” Imorean spared another glance at his sword. The handle was still vibrating.
“Good. Kadia will be arriving later this evening. Tomorrow you will begin training with her and Colton.”
Imorean shook out his hands and wrapped them around his sword handle, trying to pry it out of the wood. “Okay. In the meantime, do you have something for me to do or did you call me back just to lecture me?”
“Partly to lecture you. Partly because Raphael and Colton want to see you.”
Imorean stumbled as his sword came loose. “Do you want me to keep this on me in the building and while I sleep, too?”
“If you want to,” shrugged Michael. “Your friends will be joining us here in the next two weeks.”
“You waited this long to tell me that?” asked Imorean, buckling his sword on. “Why throw this at me if it can’t hurt me, anyway?”
“You jumped out of the way, did you not?”
“Well, yeah, but –”
“Then my point was made. Sometimes surprise is the best teacher. Colton and Raphael are in the hospital wing waiting for you.”
Imorean glared at Michael for a moment more. Did Michael take pleasure in finding new ways to keep him on his toes?
“You made your point pretty accurately,” replied Imorean.
“I throw very accurately as well, Imorean.” Michael folded his arms again and nodded toward the door to the hospital wing. “Do not keep them waiting.”
The hospital wing was the eeriest part of Felsenmeer. It always gave Imorean the creeps. He passed the white door marking the entrance to the operating theater and shuddered. There was something about this place with its skeleton staff, exam rooms and operating rooms that made everything at Felsenmeer so much more real, so much more visceral. He swallowed. At the end of the hall, Imorean saw one of the doors ajar. He could hear voices floating down the corridor.
“What do you think?”
Imorean quickened his steps. He hesitated in front of the door then rapped his knuckles on the wood.
“Come on in,” called Raphael from inside.
The door swung inward and Imorean paused. Colton sat on the exam table, his back to the room. On his back was a great, square pack. Fanning out from either side were bright red, metal wings. Raphael leaned on the cabinets on the other side of the room, his white lab coat back on his shoulders and a pen and clipboard balanced in his hands. He looked far more at home here than he had in battle against Fenrir.
“What do you think?” asked Raphael, turning and pushing his glasses up his nose.
Imorean stepped further into the exam room. “Stupid question, but ... what is it?”
“Prototype prosthetics,” grinned Raphael.
Colton turned. “They’re metal for now, but we’re thinking about redesigning to a carbon polymer.”
“Colton, can you move them?” asked Imorean.
Colton tensed and sat rigid for a moment, then the metal wings juddered to life, fanning out and extending. They flexed, then contracted again toward Colton’s back.
“They are controlled through Colton’s nerve endings,” explained Raphael. “Vortigern may have wiped off his wings, but the nerve endings are still there.”
“Will they fly?” asked Imorean, looking at Raphael.
“No idea. We have a remedy for that, though.”
Colton looked over his shoulder. “It involves you.”
Raphael nodded. “You will be our first tester.”
Imorean raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“You have a pair of working wings,” said Raphael, crossing the room to Colton.
Imorean paused. “... Well spotted, Raphael.”
“What I mean is, if the wings fail in the air, you will still be able to save yourself. If we were to run the primary tests on Colton, there would be the potential that he’d die. Michael believes that it would also help teach you and your squad about freefalling,” said Raphael, helping Colton pull free of the metal wings.
“Oh! So, this is a teaching opportunity,” scoffed Imorean, unable to keep the humor out of his voice. “I see.”
A smile tugged the corners of Raphael’s mouth. “You should know better by now for it to be anything else. Though, I’m inclined to agree with Michael. Anything can be made into a teaching opportunity. It might also help you and Kadia. Who knows, maybe we’ll put the prototype on her one day.”
“Speaking of which,” said Imorean. “Anyone know what time she’s getting in?”
“Late,” said Colton. “It’ll probably be nighttime. I don’t think she’ll be too keen to do any training then.”
“Too true,” nodded Imorean, watching as Raphael hefted the winged mechanism from Colton’s back. It looked heavy. Was it really possible they could lighten it enough to make it useable?
“You look worried, Imorean,” said Colton, rolling his shoulders out.
He looked up. “Yeah. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Would you mind coming down to the gym tomorrow morning with me to train with Kadia?”
“I can do that!” grinned Colton. He looked glad to be included. “What do you think you’ll be doing?”
“No idea yet,” sighed Imorean. He caught Raphael’s concerned, blue eyes. “Michael has given me no pointers. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Get to know her,” said Raphael. “Assess where she is. See what she can do. You will need a new weather tracker to fill one of the spots left open. Just take it slow. I’m sure you’ll know what to do when you meet her.”
“I hope you’re right,” shrugged Imorean.
