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points. I groaned. It was a compass. Sadriel whispered something, and it spun in a circle, the longer of its legs leading the way as it soared through the air and lodged itself with a metallic twang in the far wall. We chased after it, the muscles in my legs already complaining from all the rushing and running.

“Behind there,” Sadriel said, pointing as if the compass hadn’t already shown us.

“How are we supposed to – ”

Samyaza smashed his fist through the wall, bringing it down in a tumble of powdered brick and blue divine fire. I waved away the cloud of dust that formed, coughing and covering my mouth, my eyes stinging. And there they were, in a recess behind the wall: our secret nephilim.

“It’s a girl,” Samyaza said proudly.

“Of course I’m a girl,” said the girl, a slender thing with red hair, ruddy cheeks, and a baseball cap. She pushed herself up off the floor, standing no taller than my shoulders. “Get me the hell out of here. Those jerks were gonna kill me.”

“Not anymore,” Sadriel said, placing a hand against her chest. “My name is Sadriel. We’re here to help.”

“Lina,” said the girl. “My name’s Lina. Get me out of here.”

“You’re so young,” I said, still somewhat stunned. She must have been fourteen, at most. Somehow I’d expected someone my age, maybe a little older.

“And so dead if we don’t get out of here,” she shouted, her eyes wide as she took in the surrounding fires. “We gotta go, now.”

“But how?” Florian ran up to us, huffing. “I checked the exit. It’s blocked and on fire.”

The girl stamped her foot. “I survived this long and I am not going to die here.” She folded her arms, glowering at us, very clear on her stance about the subject of staying alive. The stubbornness, the indignation, the crimson glyphs on her collarbones – yeah, okay, she was definitely a nephilim.

No time for prayers and rituals. I threw my head back, lifting my voice up high. “Raziel! We need you. Now!”

A shaft of light appeared within seconds, piercing through the ceiling like it was beaming down directly from the high heavens. Raziel dug his pinky finger into his ear, frowning.

“Good gracious, Mason, there’s no need to shout. I could sense your panic. Just what in blazes – ”

“Exactly,” I said, casting my hand around the locker. “Blazes. This place is falling apart and we need to get the hell out of here. You and Sadriel can do that beamy thing, but the rest of us can’t.”

Samyaza coughed softly. “I can, a little bit.”

I threw my hands up, my eyes huge. “Then do something already!”

Samyaza frowned and grunted something that sounded suspiciously like “teenagers” as he stepped over to Raziel. The two linked hands with Sadriel, who nodded us over.

“Now. Grab on tight.”

Artemis did so hurriedly, dismissing her bow. “I’m better at this teleportation stuff by night. No moon, no zoomies, sorry.”

Apollo’s forehead creased as he grabbed Samyaza’s wrist. “We could have taken my chariot.”

“No time,” I yelled, stepping up next to Florian, both of us holding onto Raziel’s forearm. I glanced around for the last member of our group. “Lina? You coming?”

Her voice came from inside the circle. “Already here. Nobody’s leaving me behind. No way.” She poked her head out between Sadriel and Samyaza. “Let’s go already.”

“Then we fly,” Raziel said, his eyes and his mouth filling with golden light.

A pleasant warmth coursed through my blood, the kind you get from a gorgeous cup of coffee, a breezy day in summer. I blinked, and the sensation passed. We weren’t in the Cornucopia dimension anymore, but the center of Paradise. Priscilla, who’d been reclined on the sofa and watching TV, promptly fell off in surprise.

The angels unlinked their hands, catching their breath and panting. I didn’t realize they could actually teleport a group of people long distances – between dimensions, even – but the feat had clearly been taxing, even with three of them working together. Florian collapsed into the grass, spreading his limbs out in the Paradise sunshine, probably something to do with photosynthesis. Apollo sat cross-legged next to him, staring directly up into the sun.

“Oh,” he said absently. “I should call for my car.”

“Ook,” Priscilla screeched, picking herself up off the ground and waving her fists above her head. “Ook, ook.”

Artemis shook a finger at her. “No no, you don’t get to complain. You should’ve seen how bad it was in there.”

“Ook,” Priscilla ooked, her arms folded imposingly. “Ook, ook ook.”

Artemis’s shoulders slumped, and she scratched the back of her hand. “Yes, you’re right. You did volunteer to come along. Never mind.” She mussed her hair, wandering off towards the kitchens. “I’m gonna make a pitcher of frozen margaritas, and I’m not sharing. Mama needs a big old drink.”

I lowered myself onto the grass, groaning as I stretched my legs out and leaned back on my hands. Lina did the same, shrugging off her jean jacket, her sleeveless shirt exposing more of her glyphs. I recognized some of them from my own, and from those on Samyaza’s skin. I nodded at her.

“So Lina, right? Is that short for something?”

She looked down for a moment, her cheeks turning redder, closer to the color of her hair and her glyphs. “It’s – you know, I really don’t like it. But it’s short for Angelina.”

I snickered. “You’re joking.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “As if your name’s any better. What is it, anyway?”

I squared my shoulders and stuck my chest out, big strong man with a big strong name. “Mason. You can call me Mason.”

She laughed out loud. “Like a Mason jar? Hah. Lame.”

“No,” I said, frowning, slighted. “Like a builder. A guy who builds things.”

Lina nudged Sadriel with her elbow, giving me the side-eye while she stage whispered. “He’s named after kitchen equipment.”

Sadriel giggled. Really? This was the lady who didn’t know what bullet journals and pocket protectors and compasses were really for.

“My name is Raziel,” Raziel said, bowing his head

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