Ethereal

Chapter 4: The journey

The bell hadn’t rung yet.

Heaven was quiet the way it only got before blood was shed.

The pale stone of the place of execution still bore stains. Not Ethereal’s. The headsman’s. The arrow remained where the guards left it. Black-feathered, humming faintly with Athena’s magic. No one dared touch it.

Above, the three thrones were vacant. The white curtains stirred in a wind that smelled of ozone.

In the High Council Chamber, the light through the stained glass painted everything in bruises. Red, gold, violet.

Here the king sat on no throne. Just a carved-marble chair. Cold.

And before him, on both knees, stood his son.

Prince Skye of the Sky.

His armor was missing. His crown was lost. His hair, once tied back for war, hung loose and dirty about his face. His hands were blistered from holding the reins for three days straight. The hem of his tunic was still spotted with mud from Athena’s side of Heaven.

He didn’t look up.

The room was packed. Lady Mire. Archangel Cael. Archangel Serin. The lords. And right at the back, propped against a pillar like he owned the place, was Lucifer. Black robe. Hands clasped. That same soft smile.

Silence.

It went on until the air was painful.

At length the king said, “Speak.”

He did not raise his voice.

That was worse.

Skye clenched his jaw. “I grabbed her, Father...”

A whisper.

“To Athena’s side...” Skye went on, voice flat. “Past the Western Veil. In the remains of the old temple. She was bleeding. Bad.”

“The wards were broken.”

“And you,” the king leaned forward, “you brought her back?” he screamed sarcastically

“I rode for her.” Skye’s hands tightened on his knees. “All day. All night. I didn’t stop.”

Lady Mire shut her eyes. Cael’s gaze went to the floor.

“And why?” said the king. One word. Heavy as a mountain.

“You think you're a hero, and now you confess all this” he continued

Then Skye raised his head. His eyes were red but dry. “Because she’s my spouse.”

Lucifer laughed. Soft. “And because he loves her more than he loves Heaven, apparently.”

“Be silent,” said the king, without looking at him.

He got up. Paced once. Twice. Hands clasped behind his back, knuckles white.

“A prince does not abandon his place,” he said. “No prince threatens the King’s Guard, no prince lies in front of the royal court. A prince does not go to the land of the enemy and snatch a condemned woman from the very eyes of Heaven.”

Each word was a nail.

Skye didn’t flinch. His head remained bowed.

The king stopped. Turned.

He looked at his boy. Really looked.

He saw the boy who once slept on the arm of his throne. The boy who learned to wield a sword because his father told him a king must defend. The boy who married Ethereal in the Garden of First Light, with circling doves and playing harps, who swore before all of Heaven to keep her safe.

Pity rose in his throat like bile. Warm. Disgraceful.

He swallowed it down.

A king could not afford to be soft. Not now. Not with Lucifer watching. Not with the lords whispering. If he showed weakness, Heaven would c***k. And Heaven needed a strong king.

Especially now.

“Archangel Serin,” said the king. “Read the law.”

Serin cleared his throat. “Article 7, Subsection 2. Treason against the Crown. Aiding a sinner condemned to death. Obstruction of Royal Justice. The penalty is...” He paused. “Banishment. Or death, at the King’s discretion.”

Death.

The word hung there.

Skye smiled. Small. Bitter.

“No.” Too quick. The king stopped himself. Cleared his throat. “No. You are my son. And you will live. But you will pay.”

He sat down again.

“You will lose your title for one year. You will serve in the outer courts. You will seek her for me for she must be punished. And you will kneel here, before this council, and you will tell them why you lied.”

Skye jerked his head up. “I—”

“Why,” the king interrupted, voice like iron, “did you testify against her?”

The room went quiet.

Even Lucifer stopped smiling.

Skye looked at his father. Then at Lucifer.

Lucifer tilted his head. Just a little.

“I was protecting her…”

And Skye remembered...

Three nights ago. The dungeon. Cold air. The scent of rust.

Lucifer had come alone. No guards. Only him and torchlight.

“Prince,” he purred. “We need to talk.”

Skye had drawn his sword. “Leave.”

Lucifer didn’t move. “She’s going to die, you know. The order’s already signed by the King... unless.”

“Unless what?”

Lucifer stepped closer. Voice almost a whisper. “Unless you help me. Testify. Say you saw her. Say she lied. And I promise you... she lives.”

Skye laughed. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Lucifer smiled. “Then why is the execution set for dawn? Why are the bells being tuned?”

He leaned in. “Do it, and I’ll make sure she’s sent away. Not dead. Gone. To a place no one can find her. But if you don’t...”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. The threat hung in the air, heavy and nameless and terrible.

“Decide by sunrise, Prince,” Lucifer said. And left.

Back in the council room, Skye’s throat bobbed.

“I was afraid...” The lie tasted like ash. “I thought... if I told them, they’d be easy on her.”

A lie to hide a lie.

The king gave a single nod. He knew it wasn’t the whole truth. He could see it in his son’s eyes. But he also knew he couldn’t ask for more. Not here.

“Then it is done,” said the king. “Guards. Take the prince to the east wing. He will remain there until his sentence begins at dawn.”

Two guards stepped forward.

“Wait,” Skye said. He stood on his own. “One more thing.”

The king raised a brow.

“I was the one,” Skye said. “Who found her. I was the one who rode to Athena. I was the one who pulled her off the block.”

He looked straight at Lucifer. “And I will be the one who protects her.”

Lucifer’s smile faltered.

“Take him,” the king said.

The king didn’t watch Skye being led out. He stared at the stained glass instead. At the red light.

As the doors closed, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

---

Night came to Heaven.

The palace was still. The guards in the east wing changed shifts. As always, the meditation cave was sealed when a royal went in to atone.

Inside, candles burned low.

Skye knelt before a small altar. Head bowed. Hands folded.

At the door stood his steward, an old man named Orin, who had served the royal family for forty years.

“Your Highness,” Orin said softly. “The King says you are to be left undisturbed. He says this is... good. That you acknowledge your sins.”

Skye didn’t move. “Orin.”

“Yes, my prince?”

“I’m going.”

Orin froze. “My lord?”

“I’m going to Earth.”

“Your Highness, that’s... that’s a bad idea.” Orin stepped forward, voice shaking. “The King will... Heaven will...”

“I know,” Skye said, cutting him off. He turned. His eyes were no longer tired. They were sharp. Certain. “But she’s there. Alone. And Lucifer knows it. He’ll find her.”

Orin wrung his hands. “Then tell the King. Let him send—”

“The King can’t,” said Skye. “Not openly. Not without declaring war on Athena. But I can. Quietly.”

He rose. Walked to Orin. Placed his hands on the old man’s shoulders.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything, my lord.”

“When the morning bell rings, tell them I’m still in here. Meditating. Praying for my sins. You will tell Heaven. You will tell my father. You will swear to it.”

Orin’s eyes welled up. “They will send guards to watch.”

“Let them,” Skye said. “By the time they realize it, it will be too late.”

“Why me?” Orin whispered. “Why ask an old man to lie?”

“Because you were there,” Skye said quietly. “When I was born. When I married her. You know I’m not a traitor. I’m just... a husband.”

Orin broke. He nodded once. “I promise you.”

Skye squeezed his shoulder. Then he turned.

At the back of the cave there was no door. Only stone.

He placed his hand on it. Whispered words not spoken in Heaven in a thousand years. Words his mother taught him in secret.

The stone shimmered. Split.

Cold air rushed out. The scent of rain. Of city lights. Of Earth.

Skye stepped through.

Behind him, Orin fell to his knees and began to pray.

Outside, the first guard came to watch the cave.

“Is the prince inside?” he asked Orin.

Orin nodded, tears on his face. “In meditation. As every sinner should.”

The guard nodded, satisfied. Took his post.

None of them saw the faint ripple in the air where the stone had been.

None of them heard the soft whoosh as a prince fell from Heaven.

And on Earth, in a small apartment with cream walls and butterfly designs, Bridget rolled over in her sleep.

Because somewhere, far away, someone was coming for her.