Page 84 of Angel Lost

“You will let young master Engill look into your memories, hada,” he commands.

She nods slowly, something flickering across her face—distrust? Resentment? Malice?

The professor talks me through the process. It’s different with people than objects. I managed with Lorelei, slipping into her memories just milliseconds after they formed. But reaching deep into the past, pulling the right moments to the surface—it’s harder. And only possible because the hada allows it.

A shadowed glen shimmers into view, moonlight slanting through gnarled trees. High-pitched laughter rings off the hills as hada hover around me, wings casting flickering shadows. At our center, darkness writhes, straining against unseen bonds.

We chant. The Fates demand it. The air twists, thick with dark energy. A fiery glow pulses, the summoning complete. Growling drowns our voices.Red eyes ignite in the black. The bloody jaws of a hellhound snap as the fabric of reality tears. The circle shatters and we scatter.Forgive me…

The memory warps.

Bright light. A nursery. A clean, cheerful room. Toys scattered across a soft rug. A cot and a bed, covered in delicate, handwoven throws. A baby and a toddler sleep peacefully. The door splinters open. The hellhound moves fast, too fast toward the babe. A flash of fangs; a wet, sickening crunch. Blood blooms across the white blanket. The toddler wakes, screaming. The beast turns, clamps down, shakes. The cries cut off.

Stillness.

I blink back to myself, retching. The rotten scent in my nostrils, the red, red blood staining the back of my eyelids. I heave up the whiskey. Then I heave more, dry retching until salt stings my eyes.

“I am sorry you had to see that, Zephyr. You’re a gentle soul. But you see, the hada are decidedly not gentle. They are agents of chaos. That fateful day, they released hellhounds.”

Acid burns the back of my throat, and I swill a tiny sip of whiskey around my mouth to dispel the bitter taste. Something about the nursery bothers me. The toys had no charms. There were no protection runes. “Were they…human children?”

“Defenseless humans. A massacre.” The professor touches the center of his forehead in prayer. “By the will of the goddesses, when they tried the same in the angel nurseries they were caught.”

My hand shakes and I place my glass carefully on the tray before I drop the thing. The angel nurseries? They should be the safest place in all Eltanin.

“My sister works in the nurseries.”

Professor Lumis pats my shoulder. “It was a long time ago. The nurseries are safe from hada now. We made them safe by hunting down those responsible, by binding all hada to servitude for their crimes. But many, manyyoung angels died because of what the hada chose to do. Young angels, like your sister, tried to defend the nurseries. They were ripped apart.”

He presses my glass back into my hand, and I take a gulp. My sister is barely more than a kid herself. What if she…I pass a hand over my face and stare hard at the old hada.

Of course she should be punished. Forced into servitude for what she did. Iwatchedas she summoned those hellhounds. She knew what she was doing.

The professor offers me a few dry nuts. Cracking them open, I look the hada in the eyes and flick the shells onto the floor at her feet.

Professor Lumis covers his smile with his hand. “I see we are now of a mind.”

The hada stoops, sweeping the shells up. She glares, but not at me, at the professor.

There’s more here. She felt…remorse. She asked for forgiveness, even as she released the hounds. Visions aren’t always what they seem…I should know. And yet, she clearly was part of the atrocity.

“Why were all hada punished?” I ask the professor, and the old hada’s face twitches almost imperceptibly.

“They are chaos makers,” the professor says with a growl. “Think of the angels’ ages with your sister. Think of your sister. If the hada were free, they could do the same again.”

My sister…My wings threaten to unfurl, and I have to push past the panic that the thought brings. “But still, they didn’t commit a crime.” Lorelei would hate a whole race being punished for what some of their relatives did. I hate it.

The professor leans back in his chair, whiskey in hand. “Well, I tell you what. Since you wish to be their champion, and I want us to build some kind of rapport, I’ll listen.”

He will? To me?

“I’m a teacher at heart, Zephyr. Education is freedom. Why don’t we start by providing the youngsters tutoring? I’ll leave it to you to persuade the other professors to give up their time.”

“You want to indoctrinate our young.” The old hada’s high-pitched voice is barely audible.

The professor waves a hand at her.

“It wouldn’t be indoctrination, right?” I ask warily.

---