Hodvekt was just an hour away.

Sebastian and the Arkangel caravan had been on the road for about two days straight—only stopping to switch drivers or to clear the road of fallen trees and snow blocks. The Ordinaires of Western Canada needed to do a better job of keeping their streets clean. Then again, they were far removed from any civilization. Their journey to House Brynjir's headquarters kept them out of sight and mind. Now and then a truck or car would pass them by, but no one paid them any mind.

Apparently, large convoys of armored vehicles were normal in this part of the world.

He peered out the window next to him. There was nothing but snow, trees, and mountains in the distance. That's all it had been the entire duration of the trip. Grumbling under his breath, he decided to look at something far more pleasing.

Imogen sat across from him with her cheek pressed against the glass. Her hazel eyes followed the road they left in their wake; her face was more downcast than the grey sky outside. She hadn't spoken much since her conversation with Jocasta two days prior. Sebastian didn't attempt to get her to talk.

He grew up as the antisocial, quiet kid who hated when people spoke to him unnecessarily. Whatever Jocasta told her clearly screwed with Imogen's head. There likely was a lot on her mind. The least he could do was give her some space to process it all.

She caught him staring out the corner of her eye, and he immediately paled. Averting his attention, she got up from his seat and decided to aimlessly roam the limited space there was inside their transport. Dorian was laid out in the back, curled up like a dog as he snored loudly. Sebastian rolled his eyes at the werewolf.

The only one left in the cabin was none other than the queen of the Arkangels—Jocasta. She sat behind a tiny table with a cup of steaming coffee and a digital tablet displaying a map of the area they were driving through. Sebastian wrinkled his nose at the device. The ordinaires loved their technology. They relied on it even.

But he knew magic was far more powerful than anything their fragile little minds could invent.

"Is there a problem, Sebastian?" the woman asked without lifting her eyes from the screen.

"Er, no?"

"Then why are you pacing?"

He glanced at his shoes. He hadn't even realized.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he reluctantly took a seat across from her. Exhaling silently, he slouched into his chair. He took another glance at Imogen before narrowing his eyes at her.

"What'd you say to her?"

Jocasta set her tablet down.

"That's none of your concern."

"Well, it kinda is. Imogen's...she's my—"

He stopped himself. What was he about to say? That she was his girlfriend? He couldn't say that. Or could he? The specifics of their relationship were hazy—even more so now after what happened after he woke up from his manticore poison-induced nap. Jocasta smiled coyly at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he said.

She chuckled. "Relax." She tilted her head at him. "You seem more wound up than usual."

How observant of her.

"I guess I am."

"You're nervous."

"No kidding. I'm about to walk a hundred Arkangels into a village full of people who hate their guts. We all might end up dead."

Jocasta nodded slowly. She didn't seem afraid in the slightest. In fact, she seemed to be amused at his anxiety. That only made him scowl at her. He would've thought she'd be showing some more concern.

"Relax," she told him again. After bringing her cup of coffee to her lips, she drummed her manicured fingers against the table. "Would you like to hear a story?"

"A story?" He scoffed. "I'm not five."

"Could've fooled me."

He rolled his eyes at her remark. Shaking his head, he gestured for her to continue.

"My family descends from the creator of our faction, Azrael the Protector. He created the Arkangels to protect Europe from rogue magicians and the threat magic posed to society. But it was never his intention to hunt them."

Sebastian snorted.

"Do your people teach of Ivan the Destroyer?" Jocasta inquired.

Tensing, he nodded cautiously. Every magician child—at least, the Eldairs—was taught about Ivan. While they didn't refer to him as a "destroyer", he was known as one of the more unsavory figures in their vast history. The warrior mage from House Brynjir's Norwegian sect was a previous leader of the Eldenarian Council.

How did Jocasta know of him?

"What exactly do you know about Ivan?"

"Not much, honestly." Sebastian racked his brain for the bits and pieces he'd learned over time. "He's regarded as one of the worst leaders of the council to exist. He was a tyrant and is part of the reason why our community decided to withdraw from the rest of the world. But that's all I know."

In many ways, Ivan was like his father. That might've been the reason why he hated learning about the man as a child.

"Your people are not honest with themselves."

"That's rich coming from you. You claim to want to protect people, but all you do is hunt my kind like we're monsters."

"Some of your people aren't far from monsters."

His scowl deepened. But with the actions of his father and the Order of the Black Lotus on his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if she was right.

"Ivan and Azrael were good friends," Jocasta said. "Some recounts insinuate they were something more. Azrael was born a Solair. Their friendship became strained when Azrael chose to denounce his magician heritage and join the church. He believed magic was a gift from God, not the gods."

Sebastian blinked twice. He certainly hadn't learned that in his classes.

"Ivan became paranoid that Azrael was working with the Pope to remove magicians from the earth. An assassination attempt was carried out, but Azrael survived. He blamed Ivan, but the magician claimed he had nothing to do with it. They later met to iron things out, but unfortunately, the meeting went sideways. It ended with Ivan's death. Azrael formed the Arkangels shortly after to protect humans from any retaliation from magicians."

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to process. What Jocasta was saying lined up with the timeline in his head. Ivan's death in the eleventh century marked the beginning of a new age for magicians. The Eldenarian Council created the laws that forbade magicians from casting in the presence of an ordinaire—along with other laws barring them from mating or even associating with their non-magic counterparts. They withdrew from the world, taking their magic and memory with them.

But he never knew exactly why.

The council never told anyone. And no one ever asked.

"Why are you telling me this?" Sebastian asked.

"Your friend Imogen got me thinking," Jocasta explained. "Perhaps some changes need to be made. Our peoples don't need to be enemies forever because of the foolish actions of two equally foolish men a thousand years ago."

He stole a look at Imogen over his shoulder.

Now he really wanted to know what the two of them talked about.

Jocasta's words bounced around inside his head. While peace between magicians and Arkangels was a nice idea, he wasn't sure it was a practical one. He also wasn't sure he even wanted it. There was too much bad blood to wash away. Someone had to pay for those crimes. Jocasta's willingness to erase this fact put him on edge. Hindsight revealed how easy it had been to convince her to help him fight the Order.

He wanted to believe she truly was as noble as she seemed. But there was always something when it came to the Arkangels. He'd never be able to trust them completely. There was every chance that they turned on him once—or if—they defeated his father.

As he opened his mouth to speak, their vehicle jolted. They came to an abrupt stop and their driver rushed outside with his gun drawn. Brows furrowed; Sebastian ran over to the window. Arkangels were pouring out of the trucks and cars now with weapons pointed toward the snow-capped trees framing the road they were on.

One of the trees had fallen into the street. Fresh pine needles fell from the downed tree, the branches wavering slightly in the wind. The burn mark at the base of the trunk was concerning. The hairs on Sebastian's neck rose. Dorian appeared at his side, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

"This looks like a trap," the werewolf said.

"Yeah, no kidding."

He looked to Jocasta. She remained seated despite the commotion. A steely look filled her face. Imogen was standing now with a look of concern on her face. She met Sebastian's eye. They both nodded at each other. Dorian opened the door, inviting in a rush of cool air from outside.

With a shared look of uncertainty, the trio joined the Arkangels outside.

#

That tree didn't fall on its own.

Sebastian cut his eyes to the treeline in search of the perpetrator. Dorian took a couple of steps through the snow with his nose upturned. He sniffed the brisk air, searching for a scent. Imogen stood between them both with her blade ready.

"There are a lot of people in the trees," Dorian whispered.

Sebastian cursed.

He knew exactly what was happening. They hadn't even made it to Hodvekt yet and they were already being attacked. Their truce was off to a great start.

Right on cue, an armored man emerged from the cluster of pine trees framing the road the Arkangel convoy was parked on. He stepped into the open alone, but it didn't take long for Sebastian's eyes to discover the battlemages hiding in the snow. Their traditional House Brynjir armored sets had been enchanted to mirror the snow and trees around them, nearly making them invisible to the naked eye.

Orange hair spilled down the shoulders of the warrior who revealed himself. Upon removing their helmet, Sebastian realized it was Hannibal Washington, one of Ajax's older brothers.

He let out a breath. At least it was someone he knew.

Hannibal summoned his vayrir—a massive broadsword—and pointed it at the battalion of magician hunters. "Turn back. Now."

In an instant, dozens of rifles were pointed at him. Multiple lasers from their guns dotted his skin. He stood tall. His grip on his huge blade never wavered. They stood at a standstill for a few tense seconds. Each one felt like an hour to Sebastian.

Something needed to be done before this erupted into a full-on fight. If that happened, they could kiss House Brynjir's help goodbye. He needed the battlemages for what he had planned.

For the past two days, he'd been formulating a plan to take down the Order. But it only worked with both the Arkangels and the battlemages. Without them, it couldn't happen. That meant he couldn't let them fight.

Before either Hannibal or someone else could escalate things, he ran into the middle of the conflict. Imogen joined him reluctantly. Dorian remained behind.

"Let's all just calm down," Sebastian urged. He turned to Hannibal. "Listen, just put the sword down. I can explain all of—"

"Sebastian?" The ginger lifted his chin. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"If you'd just stand down, I'll explain—"

"You were headed straight towards Hodvekt," Hannibal accused. He looked beyond him and at Jocasta, who'd just stepped out of her transport. She remained near the vehicle with her arms folded across her purple winter coat. "And you brought Arkangels." Suddenly, the sharp tip of the hulking man's weapon lingered inches from Sebastian's chest. "First you bring the Order to us. Now them?"

He grit his teeth.

Hannibal had a point, though. The attack on Hodvekt had been his fault. Now he had brought another enemy to their home. They had a right to be skeptical. But if they would just let him explain, they'd see the Arkangels weren't a threat. They were on the same side—for the time being, at least.

The sound of a gun cocking filled the air.

Hannibal whistled sharply. The other battlemages emerged from their hiding places. Within seconds, they were surrounded by angry-looking magicians, each wielding a weapon nastier than the looks on their rugged faces.

Sebastian swallowed hard.

This isn't good.

"Get back in your little metal deathtraps and leave," Hannibal ordered. "I won't tell you again."

"We're not going anywhere, Carrot Top!" someone shouted.

Sebastian resisted the urge to facepalm.

Imogen moved in front of him. She'd sheathed her dragoniron sword and pointed a hand at the two warring groups. A stern expression had seized her impish features, making her look like an enraged fairy. Sebastian couldn't help but realize how attractive it made her.

"Everyone stand down!" she shouted. "We're on the same side here."

"Same side?" Hannibal scoffed. "You're insane."

"Maybe." She pointed at him. "But you need to stop all this and listen to us. We brought the Arkangels here for a reason."

Hannibal sneered at the girl. "I can't fathom what reason you have to ever bring them here."

She stomped up to him and placed her hands on her hips. To Sebastian's surprise, the stoic expression on his face crumbled slightly. He shied away from her, earning a cheeky grin from the girl in response.

"The Order of the Black Lotus has an army of zombies and five Eldenarian artifacts. If we want to take them down, we need the Arkangel's help."

Hannibal gulped. The battlemages behind him bristled as they pondered her words. "You're serious?"

"Deathly."

The battlemage dragged a hand across his bearded face. He squinted at Imogen for a few moments. He cursed under his breath in Norwegian before closing his fist. His vayrir disappeared into the mark in his hand. Behind him, his fellow warriors did the same. They remained at attention, though, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

Slowly but surely, the Arkangels replied by lowering their guns and blades.

Sebastian gawked at Imogen. Even Dorian stared at her with his lips slightly parted in awe.

How had she pulled that off?

"You're getting really good at this public speaking stuff," he said. She smiled triumphantly at him.

"Look," Hannibal said. "Even if I wanted to bring these scum into Hodvekt, it's not my call."

"Whose call is it then?" Imogen asked.

Sebastian peered at the trees. Someone else was walking through the underbrush. Everyone turned to acknowledge them. Fiery hair tied into a fishtail braid fell across the woman's broad shoulder, which was covered in fur-covered armor likely taken from a grizzly bear. It wouldn't have been a stretch to say the woman slayed the bear herself.

Familiar green eyes shone through her helmet. Freckles dotted her weathered cheeks. A double-sided hammer was grasped firmly in her calloused hands. She walked through the group of battlemages with her head held high. They all kneeled as she passed them.

Hannibal dropped down to his knee once she arrived next to him.

"Oh, Hanny, get up," she hissed. "I'm your mother, for Ghalion's sake."

Face redder than dragon scales, Hannibal jumped back up to his face and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, mom. Force of habit."

"Catherine!" Imogen exclaimed with a smile.

The leader of House Brynjir returned the gesture. She nodded at Sebastian before peering across the street at Jocasta. The grey-haired ordinaire kept next to her vehicle. Her arms remained folded. Catherine Washington simply snorted.

"What's this talk about a zombie army?" she asked Sebastian.

He dug his foot into the snow. Memories of the battle in Vashara resurfaced. He still remembered seeing all those fallen magicians rising from the battlefield, their bodies stiff and full of sinister magic. It was like invisible strings were attached to their limbs and his father was their puppeteer.

"He's getting stronger," he told her. "We have to stop him. As soon as possible, preferably."

"Agreed."

"We need the Arkangels."

"Need is a strong word."

Sebastian frowned at her.

She raised her hands innocently. Then she turned to her son. "Head to the gate. Have them let our new...friends....in."

He threw her a bewildered look. "But, mom—"

"Hannibal," she warned.

Cursing, he shook his head and trudged through the snow back toward the trees. The battlemages turned and followed him back to Hodvekt's gate. Both Sebastian and Dorian stifled laughs as they watched them retreat. Jocasta ordered the Arkangels to return to their vehicles. They did as they were told.

Catherine looked at Sebastian. "I hope you're right about this." Then she turned on her heel and disappeared into the trees.

He released a breath.

I hope I am too.

"That went better than expected," Dorian said.

Imogen laughed. "Yeah, I guess it did."

"Come on," Sebastian grumbled as he made his back to their vehicle. "It's cold out here."