Palan released his powers, causing his body to plummet towards the ground. A few earthen houses and huts had been erected in neat rectangles, presumably by Mathias. He could tell because of the slogans on the rooves of the buildings. They were written in cursive and said, “Quality you Centrust. Made by centaurs for non-harpies. If you’re reading this and you’re a harpy, then that’s impossible because harpies are too dumb to be literate.”

“Why’s the sentence mocking harpies longer than the slogan itself?” Raea muttered as she hovered in the air.

“What’s it say?” Cory asked, tilting her head at the script. Raea had never taught the harpies how to read cursive. Why did Mathias even know?

“Nothing,” Raea said and sighed. How accurate. “You’re not allowed to lose to the centaurs, got it?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to antagonize them?” Cory asked and tilted her head.

“I changed my mind.”

A thunderous explosion resounded through the air before Cory could respond. Palan landed on the ground, causing it to shatter, creating a web of cracks beneath his feet. A brown layer clouded the streets as dust shot into the air. He hadn’t used his powers to increase his weight when he fell, but his tails were heavy enough by themselves. A few pained cries came from collapsed houses, and armed halflings swarmed the streets. They were wearing robes and sandals. They hadn’t only taken hostages apparently.

“Demon?” A goblin asked and furrowed his brow. The halflings lowered their weapons before reentering their dwellings. A few diligence beings fixed the broken houses while kindness beings healed the fallen.

“Where’s Pyre?” Palan asked. His tails spread out and swiveled their heads around, taking in his surroundings. He didn’t recognize any of the halflings around, but that was expected—he only knew two or three anyways. None of the buildings looked like they’d house Pyre. They were too bland.

“He’s underground,” Cory said and landed on Crimson Snek’s body, flapping her wings to maintain balance before settling them by her sides. “He’s expanding the tunnels with the blockhead. I think they wanted to bring all the supplies from the second sector to here.”

“What about the angels who escaped?” Raea asked Cory. The harpy was directing Palan towards the stairs leading underground with her wings. “Are they being chased down?”

“No,” Cory said and shook her head. “The insane man said it’d be easier to finish off the angels if they grouped up first.”

“I see,” Raea said. She pursed her lips. “The angels near the eastern border. Did they escape?”

Cory shrugged. “I was watching over you two the whole time.” She glanced at Raea with eyes that said, “Praise me.”

Raea sighed and patted Cory’s head. “You did well. Send some subordinates to see if the Caelum household is still standing.” As long as the B.F.G. explosion didn’t reach them, they should be fine. She didn’t want her parents to die—she wanted to talk to them. Then maybe after that they could die. She hadn’t quite forgiven them for trying to kill Palan even though she had her revenge on the capital. Would Sely be disappointed?

“I can do that,” Cory said. She threw a few white thunderbolts at some harpies flying in the sky. She cupped her wings around her mouth and shouted, “Go that way and tell me if there’s any houses.” The harpies squawked and flew away. Cory nodded at Raea. “All done.”

“That’s awfully convenient,” Raea said as the harpies disappeared into the distance. Palan was descending into the earth, following a stone path. It didn’t feel like they were entering a cave. If Raea hadn’t known, she’d have thought the stairs were part of a castle. As they traveled through the halls, they passed by jail cells with angels inside of them. She recognized a few faces from her time in the capital, but they didn’t recognize her. Their gazes were glued to the floor as if they were scared to make eye contact with anyone. Is this what she wanted? What did the ordinary civilians of the capital have to do with her exile?

After walking for a few minutes, the group stopped in front of a wooden door. Cory knocked on it with her wing, but Palan kicked it open, launching it off its hinges. Inside of the room, Pyre was lying face down in the middle of the floor. There was a pipe in his mouth, and a magic circle made from purple ashes surrounded his body. His arms and legs were splayed, and he didn’t react when the door bounced near his head.

Palan’s brow furrowed. “Is he dead?” His tails were picking up Pyre’s body temperature, and his electromagnetic sense was picking up his heartbeats. “Pyre.”

A long sigh escaped from Pyre’s nostril, ejecting a stream of smoke into the floor. “Yes?” Pyre asked and rolled over. His robe was loosely fastened, exposing his bare chest and stomach.

“Explain yourself,” Palan said with a snarl.

“Explain myself?” Pyre asked and tilted his head. “What’s there to explain?”

“You fired your cannon while I was still inside of the tower.”

“And?” Pyre asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“What if I didn’t survive?” Palan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Then I would’ve died,” Pyre said. “We have a blood contract, remember? I’m not allowed to harm you, and you have to kill Sariel for me.”

“How’d you know we’d survive?” Raea asked.

“I didn’t,” Pyre said. “My goal was to destroy the capital. Blowing up the tower with my B.F.G. accomplished that. Even if I died, it would’ve been worth it.” Palan took a step forward, causing Pyre to laugh. “Even if you kill me now, I wouldn’t care. I did it. I accomplished my lifelong goal a few years before I’d die of old age. Anyways, we can dissolve our contract if you’d like. I have no idea where Sariel is, and I wouldn’t want you to die because you failed your part of the deal.” A yellow parchment appeared in Pyre’s hand, and he passed it to Palan.

Palan read over it before nodding. He pierced his thumb with his tooth and pressed it against the paper. Palan’s and Pyre’s body shone with a golden light that died away as the paper crumbled to dust. Palan crossed his arms over his chest. Cory glanced back and forth between the two people. “I thought you were going to kill him,” she said and rubbed her head. “Your face was really aggressive earlier.”

“I need him to teleport me back to Eljiam.”

“What about Sariel?” Raea asked. “Don’t you have to kill her before going back?”

“That’s not necessary.”

Raea tilted her head, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I’ll just kill Abaddon.”