I am rarely away from Freya anymore.  As a Virtue I am strong enough to only need brief rests in heaven, and while I have not given up on the hunt—Simmah has a new lead that I am following—for the most part I have allowed Anathalie and Orison to do their good work.  I spend every hour that I can with Freya.

And so I was there last night when Neige came to her room.

I was on guard, but I sensed nothing—one moment I was watching the quiet night, and then suddenly ice seized me, paralyzing me in place.  I had one glimpse of Neige’s ravaged face before she dragged her nails across my eyes.

Even as I screamed, I felt Freya wake.  She leapt up to stand on her bed, and Neige turned to face her.

Rigid, blinded, helpless, I listened desperately for any sound—had Neige struck her down so easily?  So close to the icy presence, I could feel none of Freya’s fire.  But Neige did not move, and it soon became clear why.

“How impressive you are, little sister.  I would not have expected the woman I saw only weeks ago to be able to hold me at bay like this.”

Freya did not answer.  I yearned for her to speak, just so I would know that she was still unharmed.  It was almost more painful not to be able to sense her than it had been to lose my sight.

“Ah, but you cannot cry out through my barrier, can you?” Neige chuckled.  “No, it is just you and me, fire woman.  I prefer an intimate gathering.”

“Let Asa’el go, then,” Freya retorted.  Her voice was strong and hot.  “Then we can try some one-on-one.”

My heart leapt, and then sank.  I would not leave her.  I could not.

Neige was quiet for a moment.  “Would it hurt you more, then, to see him die?  I intended to leave him for Asoharith, but…”  A cold finger touched my chest, enhancing the chill that held me in place.

“If you hurt him, I will burn you three times before you die,” Freya snarled.

“Can you, though?  It seems that you and I are at an impasse.  If it means so much to you, lower your barrier and I will let you come to him.”

I choked on the ice in my throat, trying to tell Freya not to do it, to let me die.

I heard Freya jump down to the floor.  “And then you’ll kill me.”

“Yes,” Neige said.  “Oh, I’m so glad you understand.”

Freya was silent.

“But take comfort—at least you would not die alone,” Neige added.  “As a kindness, I will send your lovely Guardian with you into the dark.”

But we would not go together. 

“Why do you want me dead?” Freya asked.

“Because you are a threat to me,” Neige replied.

It seemed it was as simple as that.  The silence stretched longer, and I waited for someone to strike, for the battle to begin.

What happened, though, was that Freya said, “You don’t want me dead at all, Neige.”

“I don’t?” Neige asked in pleasant surprise.

“No, you don’t.  Because when I die, I will become a saint.”

“Congratulations.”  For the first time, there was an edge on Neige’s voice, and just perhaps the slightest tint of pain. 

“You misunderstand me.”  Freya’s voice, on the other hand, was all edges, gleaming and sharp.  “If you think that I am a threat to you now, you cannot imagine the power and peril that will come after you when I have moved on.”

Neige was quiet for a long moment.  “Saints do not fight.  They stay out of the trenches, as it were.”

“Cupids don’t become Guardians,” Freya pointed out.  “Angels don’t reveal themselves to humans.  Humans don’t fight demons.  I’m already well versed in heavenly exceptions, Neige.  I will make myself into one, and I will find you, and I will destroy you in every way that you have ever used on your own victims.”

And I could feel, just a bit, the heat that was coming off her.  I wish I had been able to see the glory of her in that moment.

Neige considered this for a long moment.  “You make a compelling argument,” she said at last.   

Then suddenly I was falling to the ground, still freezing, but no longer held rigid.  I bounded up immediately, hands scrabbling through the air, but Neige simply seized me by the throat and threw me in Freya’s direction.

I landed at her feet, weak and sobbing, and she threw her heat over me, but blessed, brilliant Freya did not let down her guard for a moment.

Neige laughed softly.  “I believe you are right,” she said.  “You will be more interesting alive anyway.  Release me now, and I will do my very best to ensure you live a long and undisturbed life.”

“I should just take your word for that?” Freya asked. 

Shuddering, I pushed up to my knees and did my best to examine the barriers around us.  Neige’s was larger, cutting us off from heavenly eyes, but Freya’s locked both of them in place.  None of us could leave until those barriers were lowered.

“As you say, it’s in my best interest,” Neige said.  “And I do believe that battle between us now would be nothing but mutually assured destruction.  Let me go, and you may consider this nothing but a bad dream.”

“Tell that to Asa’el,” Freya said coldly.  “No.  It will take more than that to let you just walk out of here.”

“Then what will it take?” Neige asked, her voice more oily and threatening.  I shifted so that I was in front of Freya—if Neige were to attack, I could at least give Freya a bit of time.

Freya lowered her hand to me, and the warmth that washed over my face was blessedly comforting. 

“Your name,” she said.  “Give me your real name.  Then and only then can you go safely into the night.”

This was the longest silence yet.  I waited, taut with fear, for Neige has only survived this long by keeping her name hidden.  Surely she would strike Freya down rather than speak it?

But at last a very quiet voice spoke a lone word.

Freya’s hand brushed against my shoulder, and without having to hear her speak, I knew she was asking me if Neige was lying.  I shook my head, painfully, for I could hear the hatred and the agony that had built up in that word over many centuries.  Neige had spoken true.

Freya inhaled, and the heat around us intensified.  “Go,” she said, “and don’t ever let me see your face again.”

We stayed very still a moment longer.  I thought I heard one final small laugh from Neige, but it may have been my imagination.

I knew she was gone when Freya collapsed to her knees beside me, her hands fluttering around my face.  “Ace, Ace, your poor eyes,” she gasped.  “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” I demanded, wishing that I could catch those anxious fingers and hold them close.

“She never touched me.  Oh, God—Brid!  Brid!”

Brid was there the next moment, supporting me as Freya could not.  “What happened?” she demanded, and there were other voices then, asking the same questions.

I let myself fall into Brid’s arms, no longer obliged to fight the pain.  I expected to wake again in heaven, but instead I roused under a triangle of hands, three spirits stubbornly willing wellness into me.

“There he is,” Perrine said, with no small relief.  “Asa’el, how do you feel?”

I blinked up at the three human shadows pressed anxiously close.  “I can see,” I said, astonished.

“Clearly?” Brid asked, holding her own hand above my head.

“No,” I admitted—everything was a mash of light and shadows.  But I had expected far less, and I said so.

Perrine sighed.  “At least now we know that we can save his sight,” she told the others.  “I do not think we could have done it without you.”

Freya crumpled onto the bed, and George went to put his arm around her.  I reached out a hand to her, and she lifted her own, letting her fingertips pass through mine.

“How the hell did that bitch sneak up on you?” Kara demanded.  “All these heavenly eyes that are on you two, and nobody saw her?”

“When she decided to strike, she struck quickly,” Nodayimani said.  Her voice startled me—I had not seen her standing guard.  But of course we would be closely guarded from now on.  “There was no warning.  There never is, with her.”

“She won’t be back,” Freya said firmly.  I could hear, however, the exhaustion in her voice, the traces of long hours of worry and fear—and indeed, through the window I could see the growing light that showed the morning was not far. 

“Better not be,” Kara muttered, “or Imma do some eye-ripping my own self.”

Freya got up from the bed and came to kneel beside me.  “Are you all right?” she asked, her words only for me.

I tried to focus on her face, but could see only the shape and the colors of her, and that painfully.  I closed my eyes.  “I would be dead if not for you.”

“I will never let that happen.”

She realized as I did the eternal separation that would be, and it hurt her as much as it had hurt me.

I angled my head toward Brid, who seemed to understand what I wanted.  “He will be all right, Freya,” she said.  “You and the others have brought him past the worst.  His eyes will heal, it will just take time.”

Freya did not answer.  I knew without needing to look that she was staring at my face, the angry wounds over my eyes.  We both understand that even if my sight returns, I will always bear the mark of Neige’s careless viciousness.

“Nodayimani,” Freya said, her voice colder than I had ever heard it.

Nodayimani stood to attention.  “Yes, elder sister.”

She meant it as a term of deep respect, but it made me shudder, reminded of what Neige had called her.

“If I tell you Neige’s name, will you be able to find her?”

I could feel Nodayimani’s aura sharpening.  “It will be easier, yes.”

“Then find her, and end her,” Freya ordered.  “Her name is Tabanca.”

And so another hunt begins. 

Freya would not let me return to heaven.  She insisted that her aura could protect me almost as well, and that the benefit of staying with her would make up the difference.  Perrine and Brid did not argue, and so we rested together all day.  As frustrated as I am with my injury, it was lovely to spend all the day with my head resting on Freya’s shoulder, all but folded in her arms.  I am only here now to record my thoughts and grant her a little undisturbed rest, and she has already called twice to draw me back.

I am worried about the anger and fear in Freya’s spirit.  Did Neige leave a mark on her after all?  I knew that love was a double-edged weapon, but I never felt it with such power as I do now.

I will have to protect myself better now, for what would it do to her to lose me?  God grant that she never finds out.