Finally, Abraxas broke. “Let us walk,” he offered, gesturing down the path. “You did not come here to renew old wounds.”

She hesitated, distrustful of his change of tack.

“Not to worry. I’ll return you safe and sound, and we will put our past aside for tonight. I know Mariel’s life is at stake. I will be on my honor.” He smiled, a slice of cold comfort. “How is that for a first rule?”

She gathered her purpose around her. He was many things, but he was not the kind to break his word. “It is a start.”

They walked down Zion in the opposite direction of the camp. The road quickly succumbed to an old mining trail, the civilities of town giving way to a bitterly barren landscape. Cracked black earth, the remnants of lava flow, ran underfoot, and haphazard piles of black rock as tall as a man lined the thin path. Ash still sifted down around them, riding that ill wind, and it looked for all the world like Abraxas was leading her into some burned-out version of hell.

“I’ve never seen this road,” she said, alarmed.

“Aventum Angelorum,” he explained. “The earth plays tricks tonight. This was how it looked when it was an ancient battlefield. Here, demonkind battled the angelic choirs of seraphim until they were driven back to hell in retreat.” His eyes touched briefly on the great mountain rising in the distance, and his tone turned bitter. “And there great Abaddon fell. And now they mine his body for their progress.”

“You were with him. I remember you told me.”

“I was.” His shoulders bowed, and his gaze was distant, as if he saw the battle still.

“I forgot what this night meant to you,” she admitted. “That you would be grieving.”

“It’s nothing.” He shook himself free of the memory. “Age quod agis.”

“Latin?” It was a habit he had when he was contemplative. He had told her that it was because the old language was the closest to the demonic tongue, but she suspected he just liked the Roman philosophers.

He looked surprised that she’d remembered.

“I’ve missed hearing it,” she admitted. It was a small concession, but she could see it pleased him.

“Tell me why you’ve come to me, Celeste Semyaza.”

“Hypatia told you already.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Mariel is accused of killing a Virtue. They’ve taken her, and I’m afraid they will execute her tomorrow.”

“Execute her, yes. Tomorrow?” His eyebrow rose. “Unlikely. What do you know of the Virtues?”

“Only what everyone knows.”

“Then nothing.”

She bristled at that, but it was true enough.