“It’s because you’re looking in the wrong place,” Lassiter said.
“You can go now.”
“Every time you say that, it brings a tear to my eye.”
“Funny, mine too.”
The angel leaned down, the scent of fresh air preceding him. “Neither that wall nor that skull will give you what you’re looking for.”
Tohr narrowed his eyes and wished he were strong enough to fight the guy. “They won’t? Well, then they’re making a liar out of you. ‘Now is the time. Tonight everything changes.’ You give portent a bad name, you know that? You are just so full of shit.”
Lassiter smiled and idly adjusted the gold hoop that pierced his eyebrow. “If you think being rude is going to get my attention, you’ll be really bored before I care.”
“Why the fuck are you here?” Tohr’s exhaustion crept into his voice, weakening it and pissing him off. “Why the hell didn’t you just leave me where you found me?”
The angel mounted the black marble steps and paced up and down in front of the glossy wall with the carved names, stopping now and then to inspect one or two.
“Time is a luxury, believe it or not,” he said.
“Feels more like a curse to me.”
“Without time, you know what you got?”
“The Fade. Which was where I was headed until you came along.”
Lassiter ran his finger over a carved line of characters and Tohr looked away quickly when he realized what they spelled out. It was his name.
“Without time,” the angel said, “you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity.”
“FYI, philosophy bores me.”
“Not philosophy. Reality. Time is what gives life significance.”
“Fuck you. Seriously…fuck you.”
Lassiter’s head tilted to the side, as if he had heard something.
“Finally,” he muttered. “Bastard was doing my nut in.”
“Excuse me?”
The angel came back over, leaned down right into Tohr’s face, and said with clear diction, “Listen up, sunshine. Your shellan, Wellsie, sent me. That’s why I didn’t leave you to die.”
Tohr’s heart stopped in his chest just as the angel looked up and said, “What took you so long.”
Wrath’s voice was annoyed as his shitkickers thundered down toward the altar. “Well, next time tell someone where the fuck you are-”
“What did you say,” Tohr breathed.
Lassiter was utterly unapologetic as he refocused. “That wall isn’t what you need to be looking at. Try a calendar. One year ago your Wellsie was shot in the face by the enemy. Wake the fuck up and do something about it.”
Wrath cursed. “Easy, there, Lassi-”
Tohrment lunged off the cave floor with something close to the old strength he’d once had, and he hit Lassiter like a linebacker in spite of the weight difference, taking the angel down hard onto the stone floor. Wrapping his hands around the guy’s throat, he stared down into white eyes and squeezed, baring his fangs.
Lassiter just stared right back and thought his voice directly into Tohr’s temporal lobe: What are you going to do, asshole? Are you going to avenge her, or disrespect her by wasting away like this?
Wrath’s huge hand clamped on Tohr’s shoulder like a lion’s claw, digging in, pulling back. “Let go.”
“Don’t…” Tohr’s breath came in punches. “Don’t…ever…”
“Enough,” Wrath spat.
Tohr was whipped backward onto his ass, and as he bounced like a stick dropped on the ground, he came out of the murder trance. Came awake, too.
He didn’t know how else to describe it. It was as if some switch had been triggered and his bank of lights, which had been extinguished, suddenly went live with juice again.
Wrath’s face came into view, and Tohr saw it with a clarity he hadn’t had in…forever. “You okay, there?” his brother said. “You landed hard.”
Tohr reached out and ran his hands over Wrath’s heavy arms, trying to get a feel of reality. He glanced over at Lassiter, then stared at the king. “I’m sorry…about that.”
“Are you kidding me? We’ve all wanted to strangle him.”
“You know, I’m gonna get a complex over here,” Lassiter coughed out as he caught his breath.
Tohr gripped his king’s shoulders. “No one’s said anything about her,” he groaned. “No one’s said her name, no one’s talked about…what happened.”
Wrath held on to the back of Tohr’s neck and supported him. “Out of respect for you.”
Tohr’s eyes went to the skull on the altar and then to the etched wall. The angel had been right. There was only one name that could wake him up, and it wasn’t inscribed up there.