Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [93]
The demons had come again. And she had not—at least, not yet.
But there was no time for doubt. He poured all his faith into the words of the prayer. He realized he was on his knees, sweating, his eyes squeezed shut. The prayer was done. He caught his breath.
“Is it … Should it have worked by now?” said Levac.
Rafiq opened his eyes. There was no change. The boy was still an animated corpse.
“That should have … That should have done it,” said Rafiq.
“He’s still … He’s still not any better,” said Levac, his voice carrying a note of rising panic.
“No!” shouted Rafiq. “That was it! That prayer has cured corruption of all kinds. It’s the word of the angel Asha herself. Don’t you doubt her!”
The creature called Vali snarled and writhed about, its black eyes rolling with hatred.
“Look at this. This is … You said you could help my boy!” cried Levac.
“It isn’t my fault. The prayer should have worked. This boy is an abomination!” shouted Rafiq.
“You bring back my son!” cried Levac.
“Our son is dead,” said Salay.
The two men looked at her. She was holding an axe from the hermitage arsenal.
“Salay—” started Levac.
“This monster is not him. Vali, our son, is dead. And you two won’t see that until this thing stops deceiving you.”
With that, she swung the axe, and chopped off the zombie’s head with one clean stroke.
The head rolled, and the creature sank into stillness. Salay dropped the axe, blinked unsteadily for a moment, and promptly fainted.
Levac went to her, and put his arms around her. He shook with weeping.
Rafiq just stood there, watching the couple. He didn’t retrieve the sigil. He didn’t leave to rejoin his troops. He just let events wash over him. He tried to figure out something encouraging to say, but he couldn’t. Deep inside of him, entrenched somewhere under layers of memory and formative experiences, inside of a staunchly protected shell of Rafiq’s innermost self, something died.
GRIXIS JUND FRONTIER
This must be it,” said Kresh through his hand. The stench was unbelievable.
Ajani, Kresh, and the remaining warriors of clan Antaga had pressed on in the same direction they had been traveling, hoping that the path that led them to Rakka would also lead them to her master.
They had climbed over shards of rubble to get to their vantage point, and Ajani wished they hadn’t. Jund had given way to Grixis. The landscape of Grixis spread itself out before them, repugnant and obscene like a naked corpse. And the mana—the Grixis mana smelled to Ajani like death, even more profoundly than the literal air. It had the same aura to it as the creatures that had attacked the night Jazal died. Ajani’s heart went cold.
“I think you’re right,” Ajani said. “This is the place.”
“What horror is this place, that has invaded our world?” asked one of the warriors.
“It’s not an invasion,” said Ajani thoughtfully. “It’s a unification. This isn’t a foreign world anymore—it’s part of our world.” And somewhere in there is the being that caused Jazal’s death, he thought. The enormity of the task ahead overwhelmed him.
“Take heart, warriors!” said Kresh. “Look, they’ve got land, and mountains, and clouds. They’ve got beasts clambering around, and flyers in their skies. It’s just another Jund—only it’s darker and deader. We care not. For us, it’s just another hunting ground. For us, this is the final hunt!” He banged his sword on the bone of his chest armor.
Ajani marveled at Kresh’s irrepressibility. He needed some of that fire. Maybe they could do it.
GRIXIS
We should move on soon,” said Kaeda the aven.
“The undead armies have passed.”
“If we move, they’ll find us again,” said Levac. “The rank and file aren’t smart, but their leader is a cunning demon called Malfegor.”
“Malfe—what did you say?” asked Rafiq.
“Malfegor. They call him the Abomination, or the Annihilator.