Page 134 of Wings of Death

She folds her arms as she lets out a huff.

“Serona,” Harlum says as he steps closer to her, “is there any truth to her words?”

My mother swallows. “All I have done is speak with angels in Zarquon and Galespo. I have discussed the treaty and asked if they want to re-look at the terms of the agreement. I only suggested there may be a better way, a more harmonious way for us to coexist. We all know of the tension between the Kingdoms. We all feel it. We are on the brink of war, and I believe we can fix it.”

Anger seeps into Harlum’s features. “That is not for you to decide!”

Hethenos smirks. “I told you.”

“You do not know of what you speak, Hethenos. It was never done with personal motives in mind. I had the best of intentions. If you would just speak to those angels, you will find?—”

“Enough of this!” Hethenos screams. “Enough of the lies, Serona! You must pay for what you have done!”

She grabs my mother by the throat, lifting her into the air. She reaches for her sword, and before Amaros can stop her, she plunges it into my mother’s stomach.

I immediately recognise the sword, with the intricate angel detailing and the unique metal. The Sword of Silanthia, one of the five weapons of the gods.

“No!” Amaros screams as she drops my mother to the ground.

He shoves Hethenos across the room. She smashes into a table, knocking a vase of flowers to the floor that shatters into a thousand pieces. Amaros carefully removes the sword and tosses it across the room, and then he cradles my mother in his lap as he searches her face for signs of life.

Harlum rushes to Hethenos and helps her up while I sit inside my cot screaming and crying for my mama.

“Do something!” Amaros yells at them both, but they don’t move.

Harlum glares at Hethenos. “What have you done?”

She glares right back at him without an ounce of remorse or regret. “What I’ve always wanted to do. What no one else would. I took care of it, because I knew you never could.”

“No, no, no…” Amaros says as he gently rocks my mother and leans down to listen for her breathing.

“We need to make some quick decisions,” Hethenos says.

“Decisions?” Harlum asks as he runs his hands over his face.

She nods and paces the room. “About what happened here. About who is responsible.”

Amaros gently lays my mother on the ground and rises to his feet, unsheathing his sword. He moves toward Hethenos with a determined glare in his eyes.

Harlum raises his hands. “Stand down, Amaros.”

Amaros halts, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths, and he eventually slides his sword back into his holster.

“I do not want any part in this,” Amaros states.

Hethenos laughs. “Well, it’s too late for that. You’re here. You’re as much a part of this as we are.”

She stands in front of him and cups his cheek, and he shoves her hand away.

“We know your affections for her. But do not forget who your King is. WhoIam. We can just as easily put the blame onto you if we so choose. Or perhaps I should pay a visit to the other gods and tell them you are hiding here in Silanthia.”

Amaros smirks at her. “Perhaps you are forgetting whoIam. I can easily do much, much worse. Do not forget that.”

“Enough. We need to go,” Harlum says. “Someone may have heard the commotion in here. We can’t risk being seen. It was an enemy angel from Zarquon. Agreed?”

Hethenos nods, and Amaros looks down and shakes his head.

“I trust you can take care of this,” Harlum says, gesturing at me with a wave of his hand.

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