In the center of the clearing was a statue of an angel, but this was no cherub. It was the marble figure of a beautiful man of great height. Scaled armor had been carved on his body. He held a sword in one outstretched hand, etched with the words QUIS UT DEUS, and his head was thrown back as if he were crying out to heaven. James stepped forward, raising one hand—the one that bore the Herondale ring with its pattern of birds. “Quis ut Deus?” he said. “ ‘Who is like God?’ the Angel asks. The answer is ‘No one. No one is like God.’ ” The stone angel’s eyes opened, absolutely black, apertures
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