Father and son, they would do this. Defeat this. But when his father did not join his side, Aedion turned. Gavriel had gone directly to the gate. To the golden line of his shield, now pushing back, back, back. Shoving that wall of enemy soldiers with it, buckling with every heartbeat. Down the passage. Through the archway. No. Gavriel smiled at him. “Close the gate, Aedion,” was all his father said. And then Gavriel stepped beyond the gates. That golden shield spreading thin. No. The word built, a rising scream in Aedion’s throat. But Bane soldiers were rushing to the gate doors. Heaving them
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