He’s going to fly away before we can even ask for his help and this will all be for naught, she thought wearily as blood loss made her dizzy. Then he glanced down, and she watched his expression shift from wonder and joy to surprise—and he dove to land in the middle of their circle. As he touched ground, there was a powerful sizzle, and the silver ribbon that had held the circle together swirled up, making the beautiful spiral design that was often associated with the Goddess, before it rushed to Kalona, straight into his wings. They glowed white-hot for a moment before the light disappeared.
“Who should I thank for awakening—” Kalona began, but his gaze found Neferet, crumpled and bleeding across Zoey’s lap, and he rushed to her, his wings tucked neatly against his broad, bare back.
“No shirt in either world,” she heard Zoey mutter, and would’ve liked to have asked her to expound on that comment, but the immortal was suddenly there, crouching beside her.
“Priestess, is it your blood that awakened me and completed the prophecy?”
Neferet tried to say, Yes, and you required entirely too much of it, but her voice wouldn’t obey her.
The annoying child answered for her. “This is Neferet. She fulfilled the neither friend nor foe bleeding part of the prophecy.”
Kalona looked from her wound to Zoey. “I thought it was interesting phrasing when my mother created the prophecy. I shall have to discuss exactly how it was fulfilled when I have more time, but for now, I give you my thanks.”
With one quick motion he pulled the arrow from Neferet’s chest. She did find her voice then, and Lynette echoed her shriek of pain. Then he covered the bleeding wound with his hand, bowed his head, and whispered, “None should be harmed to free me, as I slept of my own will and wish no one ill.”
Neferet’s chest felt as if it was on fire and she gasped as pain assaulted her, but it lasted only for a few beats of her frantic heart. Then there was no pain, no fire, only warmth as her strength returned to her. She blinked tears of agony from her eyes and looked down at herself. There was a jagged hole in her dress, but beneath it was the pink of newly healed flesh. She sat up, moving out of Zoey’s arms, and hissed, “Bitch! ” under her breath before she peered around Kalona and the rest of them to find Lynette. Anastasia had a tight grip on her, but she was still struggling to get free—to get to Neferet. Tears and grief ravaged her face.
“Dearest! I am well! All is well!”
Lynette froze and then her gaze met Neferet’s and she collapsed into Anastasia’s arms as her sobs changed to relief. Only then did Neferet look up at the immortal who now stood over her, wings already spread so that he could take to the sky. Shakily, Neferet struggled to her feet. Zoey was beside her and she had to fight the urge to slap her—hard. But right now, it was more important to keep the immortal from fleeing.
“Thank you, Kalona of the Silver Wings,” Neferet said formally, fisting her hand over the jagged rip in her dress and bowing to him as her mind whirred, trying to think of something—anything—to say to keep him with them.
“It is the least I can do, Priestess. And I would not have anyone suffer for my awakening.”
“Good!” Zoey said. “That’s great to hear, because we all had a part in awakening you, and we really need your help.”
Kalona gazed around the circle and the school grounds. “Much has changed over these many years. I wonder how long it has been.” He seemed to speak more to himself than to them. “I do thank you for releasing me, but whatever payment you desire must wait, though I do give you my oath that I shall return to thank you properly and perform whatever task you wish, should it be in the service of the Goddess and Light.” He spread his mighty wings, causing Kevin, Rephaim, and Aphrodite to move back so as not to be struck by them. “Now, I must go. I have too long been absent from my Goddess’s side.” His wings beat the air as they lifted him.
“Father!” Rephaim shouted, his arms wide and beseeching. “Wait! Please do not go! We need you.”
The immortal drifted back to the ground, though he did not close his wings. “Child, I am not your father.”
Rephaim hurried to stand in front of him, and bowed his head respectfully before saying, “Yes, I know. You are not my father in this world, but in another world, my world, you are—” He paused and then added, “Well, you were.”
Kalona cocked his head to the side, studying Rephaim. “How can one be a father, and then not be a father?”
“Because my father—my Kalona—he died.”
Kalona shook his head. His voice gentled. “You are mistaken, child. It is impossible for any being like me to die.”
Stark dropped his bow before moving quickly to Rephaim’s side to face Kalona. “No, it’s not impossible. In our world, a mirror version of this one, our Kalona died because Nyx commanded that he give me a sliver of his immortality to heal me.”
Kalona looked Stark up and down. “You must be very special to Nyx.”
Stark closed the few feet between himself and Zoey and took her hand. “Actually, it’s my High Priestess who is special to Nyx. I’m her Oathbound Warrior and Guardian—that’s all.”
Kalona’s lips tilted up. “That is enough.”
Zoey said, “When our Kalona gave Stark a sliver of his immortality, it left him vulnerable to our fallen High Priestess who’d become a powerful immortal Tsi Sgili.”
Kalona’s handsome face mirrored the disgust in his voice. “Tsi Sgili! They
