Airel - Aaron Patterson [47]
The sound of clicking and gurgling sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t want to look. But I had to know. Something within me was demanding that I turn to face whatever was there. I turned. What I saw made me wish for death.
The thing had a long black cloak with a massive hood pulled low. All that could be seen in the darkness were two dark red glowing eyes. Something wet and slimy dripped from the lip of the hood and made a puddle at its feet. I was frozen in fear, staring at it, unable to look away.
It reached up slowly with white and withered hands and pulled the hood back to reveal a dark mass of nothingness; an empty void where the face should be. It managed a grotesque smile in spite of this, staring down at my arm, drooling clotted slime all over the front of its robe, leaving a long stinking stain.
I felt something move by my leg and jumped with fright. I wrenched my gaze away from the figure before me to find my fingers brushing against my leg. My arm was whole again. The blood had dried and I let go of my arm, stretching it out to test it. It was good as new, as if it had never been broken, gushing blood, or hanging by a thread of flesh. I flexed and wiggled my fingers. There was no shooting pain; not so much as a scar was left where the bloody mess had been.
The thing screeched like a dying owl and splattered me with brown snot and slime. I recoiled and crouched down, ready for the attack. It came right at me, and I reached out to resist the monster. But as soon as I did a bolt of lightning exploded between us, throwing me backward. I landed some distance from the screeching thing. I saw it coming toward me with unreal speed and a huge black rock in its withered white hands. It raised the rock overhead, meaning to crush me. I rolled, but not fast enough. The rock caught me on the side of my head, crushing the right side of my face.
I saw bright white light and the strange world vanished painfully.
Chapter XXVI
1250 B.C. Arabia
Kreios and Yamanu were fast. Not long after they set off from Yamanu’s shack, they made their rendezvous with Zedkiel, Maria, and Kreios’s precious baby girl before sun rise. They were encamped among giant ferns in a thickly wooded forest, the sound of the river not too far distant. They were half a day’s journey from where Kreios had left them.
Maria must not have been able to go any farther. He hoped they were in time to save the baby that grew in her belly.
Kreios felt a tightening in his gut every time he heard water moving. His kind could survive great wounds, but drowning was a great danger. He had never been close, avoiding it at all costs.
Zedkiel stood when his brother arrived, glancing at his wife with a worried look. “She is losing strength. I believe she needs sleep and a good bed in which to rest for the remainder of her time.” In answer to an inquisitive glance from Kreios, he added, “We did not have any trouble along the way, but something tells me if we do not hurry the trouble will come.”
Kreios looked toward the small tent his brother had pitched, listening for his baby. She was lodged in Maria’s arms, fast asleep, her content and beautiful face radiant. He then turned back to conference with the warriors now assembled. “You remember Yamanu. He will help us to Ke’elei and then we will find out what this Seer wants with me. We will go at first light, after she has had a full night’s rest.”
As he spoke, Kreios was searching the woods around them. His senses filtered through the noises and movements, picking out anything unnatural or out of place.
Zedkiel took Yamanu by the hand. “Thank you for coming. We would be lost without you.”
Yamanu smiled in the darkness, causing all his teeth to gleam in the moonlight. “I am at your service, friend. I only hope we can make it to safety without our enemy seeing through my shadow.”
The camp did not have a fire that night. Kreios left the group to stand watch in the boughs of a tall tree. He did not trust his senses completely; he needed every advantage. The Seer, the powerful leader of the Brotherhood,