Airel - Aaron Patterson [52]
“Argh!” The Seer spit and cursed at the sight of his arch enemy.
In answer to his question, pure red hatred split the bloodstone open in a tight beam that spread wide, covering the Seer in a bath of evil. The old man writhed, rocking back on his heels and toppling over, sprawling on the dirt floor. Dust clung to his filth.
Arms curling into cadaverous claws, the Seer opened his mouth to scream out in pain, but nothing came forth. The bloodstone became hot and burned his hand, melting the skin, filling up his mind with a vision of the future; breaking his will even further. His body nearly snapped as his back arched and he thrashed against it, fought it, spewing and retching—but to no effect.
A silken voice then spoke to him in a lost tongue. He could not have dared to try to speak it, but here in the wretched dirt he could at least comprehend it. “Listen to me, Seer. You will never be what you are supposed to be if you “fight” like this. I am here to bring you life…a life of which you have never dreamed. You do not have much time. The immortal Kreios draws near to the City of Refuge. You must seize the child before they reach the walls…or shall I have no use for you anymore?”
The Seer lunged upward from the ground as the red fire from the stone blanketed his body. He hovered wildly and upright, eyes wide and knowing. Clutching the stone, he whined like a whipped dog as spittle drenched his cracked and bleeding lips. The bloodstone went dark, abandoned him. He was thrown violently to the ground.
Crumpled on the floor like so much waste, the Seer groaned, coming back to himself. He shook his head and got to his feet. He looked at the now cold pendant with dim recognition, as if he was not able to recall something very important. He replaced it around his neck and tucked it under his robe. Hanging over his mind like a ready avalanche was the certainty of the next step the army was to take. He flattered himself that he was a partner with his master. But that was why he was Seer—he was so simply persuaded of his own importance. He did not dare to dream that he was completely replaceable.
He needed air. He pulled back his hood, revealing the face of a young man with smooth black hair and unblemished pale skin.
Wickedness housed in a single grin crossed his face. His black eyes simmered in a stew of hatred. He brooded over what he would do to Kreios. The smile pulled taut. He contested with voices in his mind about what would be done with the girl, and as he did, hellish light flashed in his expression. So much enjoyment awaited him. He would try to savor it this time…and Kreios could watch.
Chapter XXX
The three angels silently but speedily packed their small camp, burying the fire and anything else that might leave a trail. Kreios knew they had been spotted, but he didn’t want to throw any bones to the dogs. Since they had a Shadower with them, he knew that the Brotherhood could only track them by following their physical trail—if they left one.
Kreios glanced at Maria, then Zedkiel. Maria was obviously exhausted at this point, but travel was a necessary evil. No amount of rest would rejuvenate her until she delivered the baby. She needed skilled help for the remainder of her pregnancy or she could die along with her baby.
Zedkiel had made a decision. “No need to worry about hiding the camp. We must take to the sky and hope that Yamanu can hide us from the surveillance of the Seer.” He shoved the last of the deer jerky into his pack, tied the drawstring, and slung it over his shoulder. His face was drawn tight with worry, but when Kreios smiled he loosened up; bringing back the sparkle in his eyes.
Yamanu cut in. “Do not be troubled, my old friends. I am as strong as I ever have been, and with the presence of the Sword of Light, I am even more powerful. The enemy hordes will have been