him coolly.
He forgot the murders, ignored the smoke and the screams, had no care for the fear of those driven before spreading flames. Sathariel had come and all the world's troubles were but trifles compared to Jinn's desire for the angel's pain. He jumped onto the bar, prepared to charge and end his years-long quest.
'Jinn!'
A faint voice cried out from somewhere amid the smoke, giving him a moment's pause, but he strode forward, stolen blade rising in his hand almost of its own accord, brandishing itself like a holy symbol to rebuke the unholy. He kicked half-empty glasses out of his way, striding toward his foe, but Sathariel's shadows began to dissipate, the wings slowly withdrawing.
'No! Gods damn you, come back!' he cried as the black eyes faded.
'Jinn!'
He blinked, fury clouding his vision until the angel was gone. The pressure in his chest faded, the needling on his skin disappearing in a breath. Turning, he found Quessahn at the bar, frantic eyes pleading for him to hear her, though he'd abandoned his last care for anything else at the sight of the angel.
'Allek is up there!' she pointed to the stairs and the cloud of smoke drifting from the second floor like misty snakes crawling along the walls. He gasped, cursing as the peculiar bloodlust left him, the stolen blade in his hand lowering as he realized he had forgotten his friend.
Jumping down from the bar, he raced for the stairs. At the bottom step, he caught a blur of motion above him, a dark shape hurled against the upper wall like a rag doll. Wood splintered beneath Allek's body as the rorden fell limp on the stairs, arms splayed over his head, his uniform's tabard torn away. Blood trickled down from the carved wounds upon his chest, already pooling in the hollow of his neck, dripping like a crimson necklace to the stairs. His friend's blank eyes stared at him almost accusingly beneath the wavering, smoky figure that stood at the top of the stairs.
Shadowy curls of black mist obscured the figure's features from head to toe, only the fiery glow of two flaming green eyes was visible within the insubstantial cloak. Allek's blade gleamed with red in the figure's hand.
Sigils, Jinn thought. Green flames. The killer.
He took the stairs two at a time as the figure turned away, billowing shadow stuff trailing behind the murderer in wispy ribbons. Jinn skirted the edges of a roaring flame, his boots crunching on the shards of a broken lantern as he made the last step. A private feast hall lay in ruins, the long table and chairs thrown aside, blood streaked across the floor. The killer stood at the broken window, eyes tilted curiously as Jinn approached.
'We do not recall you, deva,' it said in a hollow, split-toned voice that growled and rolled through the room well after the words had been spoken.
'After a day of being recognized by strangers, I find that refreshing,' Jinn replied and charged forward, but the figure had already slipped through the broken window and had begun to climb.
Jinn followed, pulling himself out onto a small balcony and jumping for the edge of the low roof. Shouting voices filled the streets, and fire bells had been rung, summoning water lines to douse the flames inside. He struggled at the damp edge of the roof, fingers chilled by bits of forming ice as he pulled himself up into a crouch. At the top of the cornered rooftop, the killer stood watching, eyes still tilted quizzically at his efforts.
He bounded up nimbly, navigating the rows of roof tiles. Swords raised, the pair met in a flurry of flashing blades. In three quick, hand-numbing clashes, their blades locked and the killer leaned in close, studying Jinn's face casually as the deva struggled against its unnatural strength. Winter wind whipped at his cloak and blew thin the wreath of smoke around his opponent, revealing a human figure if little else beneath the obscuring mist.
'Why have you come here?' it asked. A warm stench like burning flesh wafted across Jinn's face. 'What do you wish of us?'
Blood, Allek's blood, slid down the killer's sword, dripping cold over Jinn's hands. He squinted in the ghostly light of the green eyes. The wetted blade pushed closer to his throat, and he strained, finding strength enough to hold it back.
'The angel,' he managed to answer.
'Ah,' the killer replied, pulling back. His blade twisted in a smooth motion, sliding down with a hellish screech until the pommel rested on Jinn's shoulder. The push seemed effortless, though it threw Jinn back as if he weighed nothing. He rolled down the roof, knocking tiles free as he scrambled to halt his descent, stopping only at the edge, his boots braced just at the drop. The killer never moved. 'We smell vengeance in your blood, deva.'
A chorus of discordant chuckles growled at Jinn as the killer tossed aside his bloody weapon, letting it fall to the street as he walked the apex of the roof, standing at its edge carelessly.
'It seems we know of you after all,' the figure continued, letting one foot dangle over the drop. 'We shall speak again, killer of angels.'
In a whoosh of smoke, the figure fell, disappearing as Jinn crawled to his feet and ran to where the killer had disappeared. Though the alley behind the Storm's Front was still dark, he could see the dying light of the flaming green eyes as shreds of shadow dissipated and flew away from the broken body below.
Quickly he lowered himself over the side, climbing down from one windowsill to the next lower until he could jump to the ground. As he approached the body, the smoke was all but gone, the emerald light leaving behind pale, glazed-over eyes.
The body of a young woman, one of several who'd been in the tavern barely hours earlier, drinking and laughing, lay dead in the alley. Jinn shook his head, sheathing his sword and kneeling to study the girl in confusion.
'Possession?' he muttered quietly, feeling the chill of the girl's skin on arms as fragile as a child's, nowhere near capable of the strength he'd encountered above. Allek had spoken of multiple suspects, of madness and frantic claims of innocence. The fallen rorden's words began to fall into place, answering questions and at the same time creating new ones. Jinn stood back from the body, recalling more of what he'd been told. 'Green flames… and skulls.'
Iron clattered to the cobbles at the other end of the alley, a long, metal hook left in the wake of a frightened lamplighter. The boy glanced back once, enough to provide the Watch with an accurate description of what and who he had seen. A flickering glow of firelight illuminated the dead girl as shouts for water echoed from the front of the building. Jinn sank back into the shadows, his stomach turning as he caught his breath and contemplated his options.
'What lows to which you have stooped, deva,' called a voice rumbling with power. A night black figure with wide wings, dark and feathered, crouched on the roof above. It half unfolded its wings with the hissing and crackling noise of dead leaves. 'Presiding over the deaths of innocents? What a cold and unfeeling thing you have become, Jinnaoth.'
Jinn stared up into the midnight dark of the angel's glistening, black eyes, hand drifting to his stolen blade, overcome by a familiar sensation of unnatural bloodlust.
'Sathariel,' he whispered through clenched teeth, cold steel tingling beneath his fingertips as he faced his enemy.
FIVE
NIGHTAL 20, THE YEAR OF DEEP WATER DRIFTING (1480 DR)
Quessahn flinched as flames licked above her head, cinders popping around her as she knelt over the rorden's body. She traced the sigils carved in his chest one by one, noting the depth and preciseness of the cuts. She fought her natural instinct to look away, to flee the encroaching fire, her breaths coming short and quick as she tried to ignore the blood on her hands and the pale bone showing just beneath the edges of Allek's wounds. Lost in the puzzle of arcane runes and trying to remain calm, she almost missed the rorden's hand.
It had fallen across the human's stomach, seemingly normal, until she noted the dark spot of one knuckle. Leaning closer, she found the left ring finger neatly severed and wondered at the mutilation, some obscure bit of her studies attempting to surface in her thoughts. At a loud crack, she abandoned the body and her curiosity as a section of the ceiling fell onto the stairs. She threw herself backward, landing awkwardly near the bottom of the
