As she rode upon the dragon, holding the amulet before her, Issari felt something new, something that dampened her eyes and lit her heart. For the first time, she felt pride. She felt power. She knew then that dragons were not weak, cursed creatures for some to hunt, for others to pity and save. She knew that Vir Requis, the children of Requiem, were mighty and strong.

I am proud to fight with you.

As they flew across the city, casting back the demons with fire and holy light, sadness too dwelled inside her, for she knew that she would never see her brother again.

You will fly north with them, Sena, she thought. You will be proud and free.

She looked at him—a blue dragon, the beast that had shifted in their chamber in secret, that now flew and blew fire and roared. Issari had often pitied him, thinking his magic a handicap, but now she envied him. Now she wished she too could shift, could fly, could fight with fang and fire.

She looked down at the city—a city of evil, of fear. And she knew that her task was different than his. Her burden, heiress of a kingdom, was to rule.

Ahead she saw it—the coast of Eteer and the black sea. It would take him home. It would leave her here, empty, missing him, a single light in a dark city.

"Fly north with us!" Tanin said between blasts of fire. The red dragon looked over his shoulder at her, his tongue lolling, his face scratched but his eyes bright. "Join us in Requiem."

Riding on his back, Issari lowered her head. She looked down at her city, and she saw it there, rising from smoke and shadow—the palace. Her father was in the north now, enlisting his allies, hunting Laira. This was Issari's kingdom to rule, to inherit, to save from damnation.

"I cannot," Issari said. "Place me down upon my palace, my friend, I—"

Fire blazed ahead.

Issari stared, gasped, and her heart seemed to stop.

The demons across the sky shrieked and fled like birds from a running dog.

Below in the palace courtyard—the place where Raem had beheaded so many Vir Requis—the ground shattered. Cobblestones flew. A rent tore open, and a creature burst from underground, wreathed in fire, beating bat wings. The figure soared, leaving a trail of smoke and cinder. Her body was carved of stone, curved and cracked, seeping flames and smoke. Fire girded her loins, and her fangs shone. Her eyes blazed like cauldrons of molten metal, and a ring of fire haloed around her head. She stretched out her arms as she rose, a pillar of sulfur and heat and light, laughing, shrieking, painting the city with red light.

"Angel," Issari whispered. "Queen of the Abyss."