Airel - Aaron Patterson [87]
He closed his eyes, thinking back, going deep into the folds of his mind, remembering the door once again. He wondered how he had missed it for so many years. The door had not been there in the past, but now there was nothing he could do to make it go away. Its presence filled him with elation and fear, because he felt that whatever stood beyond that door was not good. He knew, furthermore, that he was going to have to pass through it. The thought made him want to run far and fast.
***
Yamanu stood by watching his friend, smoking his pipe. He could see deep lines chiseling themselves into the surface of Kreios’s face, and it worried him. This upcoming task was suicidal. The only thing keeping Kreios from knowing his thoughts was his ability to shadow them. Yet he would fight, and fight to the death with every fiber of his body and soul. If he were to die, so be it; and if by some miracle they lived…“All glory be to El, and to El alone,” he said.
Kreios nodded, sheathing the Sword and strapping it on. Pulling on his cloak, he tied his pack to his belt and lifted the hood over his white blond hair.
The air felt alive. Kreios walked to the open window and jumped out without a moment’s hesitation. A crack of sound followed his arc through the clear blue sky as he broke the sound barrier. Yamanu shook his head and muttered under his breath. He shoved his pipe in his pack and jumped from the window. “Showoff.”
Chapter XIX
Somewhere in the Mountains of Idaho, Present day
I walked on a thin path that ambled its way through massive green trees in full leaf that towered over me. I felt small and so confused, realizing that one of the things about Kale that didn’t compute, among the millions of others, was that, if I remembered right, he had kidnapped Michael and me on an autumn evening in late September.
Why then is it summertime in the mountains? I almost said aloud. It was backwards, just like my brain. But like just about everything in my life, I simply had to let go. I decided that I might very well be completely out of my mind—but I also decided that, all things considered, I may as well enjoy it.
Kale had given me that old book, told me to read it. He said it was history, part of my school work I guess. I held the book under my arm as I walked. I could feel it there, as if it was alive and our movements through the wood were mutual and agreed upon at every step. Green fiddlehead ferns peppered the shady areas, and some strange plants with red-tipped leaves grew on either side of the path. Michael and Kale had stayed behind—they had ‘things to discuss,’ and I wanted to be alone with my own thoughts anyway.
How did we get here? At one point, an eternity ago, we had been kidnapped by a killer. Now, I had let myself slide into the kind of thinking that allowed me to consider the idea that a murderer was to be trusted. He had physically taken us; kidnapped us from the mall parking lot. It sometimes made my head swim in chaos—but I felt the Book under my arm would provide the anchor I needed in the midst of my stormy existence. I couldn’t name the assurance I had, but it was there nevertheless.
A large boulder blocked the little trail, but I climbed over it without thinking. It was as if I was in a dream world. All the woodland sounds seemed closer and clearer than usual. None of this was lost on me, either. I was aware of my awareness; it was like the Book—or maybe just whatever it had awakened in me—was stimulating a dormant seed that God Himself had planted within me.
If I was really descended from a race of immortal angelic beings, it only made sense that that seed came from somewhere farther up my family tree, waiting for the right moment to spring forth. I brushed aside everything I couldn’t understand, which was plenty, and just felt the sun beaming down on me through the canopy of the trees.
I saw a patch of sunshine off the path, up on a little knoll. I turned toward it and began to climb. It was a small natural clearing of wildflowers and