It was the same exact coloring as the Primary had, the Legion all minted on the same press, but she knew this wasn’t the Primary. While the leader of the Legion gave off a sense of terrible age, of infinite memory, this fighter appeared oddly young to Elena’s senses. As if he’d been barely formed before their eons-long Sleep in the deep.
Raising her hand, she waved, just to see what he would do. Only the Primary had spoken to Elena and Raphael thus far. Interaction such as she’d had with him on the rooftop that day was even rarer. “Hello!” she called out in concert with her wave.
The Legion fighter tilted his head to the side like a curious bird and swung closer. Then he raised his hand and echoed Elena’s move. Delighted, she laughed and waved back. His lips moved, as if he were trying to figure out how to laugh or smile. Though he gave up the attempt soon afterward, he stayed by her side across the Hudson.
Do you wish me to command them to stop the escort?
Elena shook her head at Raphael’s question. They seem to like doing it for some reason and it’s harmless enough. The escort home—whether to the Enclave or to the Tower—had begun quietly, soon after the initial postbattle repairs were complete, and was now a ritual. Unless you’re planning to sweep me up into a dance . . .
Are you agreeing to be naked above Manhattan?
Not this century. Skin heating at even the idea of it, though not all of that heat was mortification, she swept down to the river. The Legion fighter dropped with her and skimmed over the rippling water at her side, a puzzled expression on his face. I think he’s trying to figure out why I’d want to do this.
I do not think the Legion yet understands joy. Raphael winged down to join her before the two of them soared back up almost vertically to reach the top of the cliff beyond which sat their home. Elena’s muscles strained at the ascent but she was exhilarated at completing it without faltering.
“Yes!” She pumped her arm up and down as she joined Raphael on the lawn.
The Legion fighter landed beside her, while his partner came down next to Raphael. Turning to her archangel, she said, “How was my form?” It was a serious question.
“You’re listing slightly to the left.”
“I had that feeling. I can’t quite get the balance right.” Frowning, she settled her wings and looked to the Legion fighter who’d waved at her. “Any tips?”
“You are accustomed to carrying a crossbow on the right side of your body, and you tilt to balance yourself out even when you don’t have it strapped on.”
Elena stared. Did I just imagine that or did he speak?
He spoke. Raphael shifted his attention to the fighter. “Your insight is acute.” Turning to Elena when the fighter inclined his head toward him, in the way the Legion had of doing with Raphael, he said, “You don’t need to fix the listing. Learn to be aware of it and conscious of how it affects your balance when you don’t have the crossbow.”
Elena nodded, thanked the Legion fighter, then said, “Want to come for a walk?” to him and his partner both. “I’m heading to the greenhouse.”
Guild Hunter, what are you doing?
Trying to humanize them, so to speak. She couldn’t keep being disturbed by a force that belonged so deeply to her and Raphael that the knowledge was a hum in her bones. Wouldn’t you need a few pointers if you’d been buried at the bottom of the ocean for millennia?
“I will tell Montgomery to send refreshments to you.”
When Elena swiveled on her heel to walk toward the greenhouse, both Legion fighters fell in with her. Hah, she said to Raphael, bet you didn’t think they’d accept my invitation.