Free Hell's Foundations Quiver by David Weber

carafe and poured into a cup. “Sandaria?”
    â€œChocolate will be fine for me, as well, Major.”
    He nodded, handed the first cup to Aivah, and poured a second for the “maid,” then glanced at Nimue, who shook her head with a faint smile of her own.
    He set the carafe back on the table, adjusting the cap rather more carefully than usual, then snorted quietly as he realized he was deliberately delaying the moment. He drew one of those deep breaths a PICA no longer required and settled into his own chair at the head of the table.
    â€œAs I’m sure both of you have realized by now,” he said, “‘Nimue’s Cave’ isn’t the seijin training camp you thought we were taking you to, Aivah.” His eyes met hers. “And, as I told you on the flight here, Captain Chwaeriau’s first name does, in fact, have quite a lot to do with the reason we call all this”—he waved one hand in a gesture that took in the entire complex—“ Nimue’s Cave. But it’s not because she was named for it. Actually, it was named for her . In fact, it was created for her over a thousand of your years ago.”
    Aivah’s eyes widened, and he heard Sandaria inhale sharply.
    â€œThis chamber, these caverns, were here before the Day of Creation,” he continued steadily. “They predate the Church, predate Armageddon Reef and the War Against the Fallen, predate even the first time the ‘Archangel Langhorne’ set foot on Safehold. You asked me once if I came from the same place all of the Adams and Eves had come from at the Creation, and the answer is that I did. So did Captain Chwaeriau. And so did the Archangels themselves, because they weren’t Archangels. They were mortal men and women pretending to be Archangels.”
    Aivah and Sandaria were both staring at him now, their faces very pale.
    â€œI know that’s not what you expected, despite everything in Saint Kohdy’s journal, but it’s the truth. In fact, it’s almost certainly what Kohdy had come to suspect—or to wonder about, at any rate—when he shifted to Español. And I’m positive it’s the reason he died when he took his suspicions to Schueler.”
    â€œThat’s … that’s not true!” Sandaria whispered. “It can’t be true!”
    â€œYes, it can.” Merlin smiled compassionately, even regretfully as he saw the shock in her eyes. “The Archangels were as mortal as you or Aivah, Sandaria. As mortal as Nimue and I used to be.”
    â€œWhat?” It was Aivah this time, her eyes just as huge, just as shadowed with shock and what looked too much like fear. “What do you mean ‘ used to be ’?”
    â€œI know it’s hard to believe,” Merlin said gently. “But it’s the truth. No, we’re not demons, but Nimue and I used to be the same person, you see. And that person died over a thousand years ago.”
    *   *   *
    â€œI’m still not sure I can wrap my mind around it,” Aivah Pahrsahn said several hours later.
    The wine and chocolate had been supplemented by bowls of hot soup, accompanied by salads and thick slabs of hot, freshly buttered bread. By the time Owl’s remotes had delivered the food, Aivah and Sandaria had been past the first stunning shock, and they’d watched in fascination as the soup tureen and bowls floated to the table on a counter-grav serving unit. There’d been more than a little fear in that fascination, perhaps, but the thick, tasty soup had become a solid, thankfully familiar, and thoroughly mundane anchor to the reality they’d thought they knew.
    â€œIt does take some wrapping,” Nahrmahn Baytz told her. “You should try it from my side, though!”
    The portly little prince’s hologram “sat” in a chair at the foot of the table, looking up its length at Merlin. In deference to their