Airel. Part 6

Then I did something I stil don't believe I had the guts to try. I reached back into the trash can, took a knife-like chunk of the remains of the gla.s.s, and held it up in front of my face. There, between the mirror and me, was a moment like ripples in a pond.

The girl in the mirror looked defiant and brave al at once. The real girl, if I could cal myself that, felt scared but impulsive. The shard of gla.s.s looked wicked, dangerous. Now, I felt it down to my very bones, I knew what it felt like to be completely crazy.

I laid my hand palm up on the top of my dresser. I grabbed an old t-shirt from the drawer and bit down hard on it. I raised my right hand and stabbed the gla.s.s knife into my left I screamed through the t-shirt with clenched teeth. If Mom heard, she would probably just think I stubbed my toe or just remembered some unfinished homework.

Blood. Both hands were now badly cut. My right palm was sliced to ribbons where I had grasped the weapon and my left was absolutely pierced. The gla.s.s was stuck through it into the top of my dresser like a dagger.

I pul ed, and with some effort, dislodged the gla.s.s shard from the dresser top, dropping it back into the trashcan. It chimed abruptly as it hit the other pieces of gla.s.s. I looked down at my hands with a look of horror on my face. What have I done?

Chapter XVIII.

1250 B.C. Arabia Kreios slept by the warm fire that had died down to coals, casting an amber glow on the hard-packed wal s. Just before he had fal en asleep, he let his mind come to rest on part of his talk with Zedkiel.

His brother had mentioned a large city, two weeks' journey to the west, where they were building structures out of stone and granite. He remembered living in a city much like the one his brother described, but a long time ago. That was another time, another life; but he al owed his mind to dwel in those memories as he drifted off to sleep.

It was now very late. Nothing moved.

A dark shadow crossed the room without a sound. Kreios awoke, becoming alert without opening his eyes. He had been trained for combat, and his sleeping habits had not changed much over the years. He slept soundly, yet very lightly. The slightest sound that was out of place was enough to wake him ful y, and he had disciplined himself to awaken without changing his breathing pattern in the slightest.

He waited, unmoving. Now he could hear something moving around inside the hut. The heat from the sword that lay under his arm confirmed the danger he felt.

Cracking his right eye open, he looked around the room. On the other side of the fire pit stood a figure cloaked in darkness, a long haggard robe draped down, dragging on the floor. Kreios's hand rested near the grip of his sword and he moved his fingers slowly, wrapping them around it and enclosing it like a band of iron. Every muscle in his body tensed. You will only have one chance. Make this count.

In a blur of speed and in one motion, Kreios jumped to his feet and unsheathed the Sword of Light. The hulking dark visitor screeched in pain but did not shrink back as blazing light fil ed the room. Kreios could feel the demon drawing on his life force. But an unexpected sensation interrupted al of this.

With sword in hand, Kreios could now feel it resisting the demonic draw. It was restoring him, renewing him, and he regained what had been stolen as energy returned, flowing up his arm, into his chest. He betrayed himself with a faint smile, flashing across his face.

From the corner of his eye, Kreios saw another filthy black figure, stepping from the next room. He decided to begin the fight by ending it. Quickly he swung the Sword and split the midsection of the closest enemy, spil ing his bowels onto the ground.

Before it could roar with indignant pain, he had begun fluidly moving the Sword back into the attack, arcing low, barely touching the dirt floor, and coming back around to shoulder height. He was poised and did not hesitate. With a backhand swing he took off its head and watched as its jagged sword clacked to the ground, its body crumpled in a b.l.o.o.d.y heap.

Kreios immediately felt a surge of power returning to him and his birthmark glowed up his arm as if on fire. Now for another.

He turned toward the second intruder, closing with it quickly. As Kreios drew back to strike, the beast savagely plunged a crooked black dagger into him. Kreios felt searing pain as the blade penetrated his chest. His thoughts turned toward his precious daughter in the next room. As he fel to his knees, stunned, he prayed desperately for her safety.

No words pa.s.sed between the two enemies as they stared at each other. Kreios stil held the Sword in the vise of his grip as it flamed brightly, the white light revealing the hideousness of his enemy. It was disgusting, pathetic. A dirty waxy hood concealed its face, revealing only the glow of eyes within that were fueled by the fires of Hel itself. Leaving the dagger jutting from Kreios' chest, the demon raised its wickedly curved black sword high overhead, savoring the coming strike at the heart of his foe.

Its stinking festering body tensed in preparation for the final blow. Abruptly, however, the thing retched; black liquid gurgled up from its throat, and its sword fel clanging to the floor. Its mouth hung open wide, and in the light of the Sword Kreios could see the sharpness of steel sticking through the beast from the back of its head, protruding from its gaping mouth.

Zedkiel!

Kreios pul ed the beast's dagger free of his own chest and turned it homeward, burying the smoking tip within the sickening folds of the robe of the demon. He rose up, ignoring the pain shooting through his ribcage, and swung the Sword violently across its neck, severing the head. The demon fel to the dirt floor, dead. Tacky blood spil ed from its body. Zedkiel put his foot on the head and pul ed his sword free, standing over the lifeless form with contempt.

"Are you wounded?" Zedkiel looked at Kreios and leaned down to examine his injury.

"He missed my lung. I can already feel it healing. I wil be whole by the sunrise." Kreios grimaced. "Thank you." He struggled to remain standing. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, leaning on him for support.

Kreios wiped the blood off the Sword, sheathed it, and slung the scabbard over his shoulder, keeping the sword tight and snug to his body.

Zedkiel placed much wood on the fire, which began to roar l.u.s.tily. Then he cut up the bodies into pieces so that he could burn them. As Kreios helped his brother with this grisly task, he could not help but feel like something was amiss. He could not place the feeling, but something was not right.

Kreios walked out the front door and looked up at the clear night sky. The air had a bitter quality. The sulfuric smel of the fuel now burning on the fire did not help matters. He listened for the sound of horses. Maybe he would be able to discern, by straining his ears, the approach of the Brotherhood coming to finish the job. The vil age stil slept and did not know what had just transpired. It was better that way.

"I believe they only sent two of them. It would have been an easy kil if it was not for the Sword you carry." Zedkiel stood in the doorway and searched the sky with his deep dark eyes. The night was stil and calm, completely clear. The stars il uminated the val ey in resplendence and it reminded him of another age.

Kreios did not like knowing that he had brought the demons there. His problems were not his brother's. In his haste to save his daughter, Kreios had put the whole family at risk. "I fear you wil have to move away from Gratzipt. They know you are here now. They wil send more." Kreios knew his brother would refuse, but he was compel ed to speak the truth, no matter what his brother might say.

"I cannot remove us from this life. We cannot rebuild again. Maria could not endure it, especial y now. The child is nearly here and we have a good life in our little vil age." He paused, and the moment was heavy. "No. We wil wait and set snares to protect ourselves. With you here, with the Sword, our strategy can be adjusted. We do not need to run."

Kreios said nothing. He was sure that his brother would see how the decision to stay would rain down hel fire upon al the innocent vil agers, punishing them for daring to live next to angels who provoked battles with the Brotherhood.

He turned, walking back into the house. Kreios knew his brother would not listen to wisdom just now, so he decided to drop the subject. He wanted to be sure his baby girl was stil snuggled in safety.

Kreios found Maria sprawled crookedly in the corner on his brother's bed. "Zedkiel!" He cal ed to his brother as he ran to Maria. Zedkiel came quickly and they sat her up, cautiously. She began to sob, moaning with her head in her hands. Kreios jerked his head to where his baby girl was sleeping. He rushed over and pul ed the skins back.

She was gone.

Maria sobbed and looked up at him with grief in her eyes. "They took her, there were four of them! Two went after you and the other two left with the child. They would have kil ed me as wel , but ran with the baby when they heard you." She had red puffy eyes and her face was wet with tears. Kreios wanted to scream. He fil ed with rage as a knot bound up the pit of his stomach.

"I tried to scream when they took her but they struck me and everything became dark. I thought I was dead! Oh, Kreios, I am so sorry!" Kreios went to her and embraced her. He was glad that his brother's wife was alive. She would bring Zedkiel a child soon and it was by the grace of G.o.d that the Brotherhood had not kil ed her.

Kreios stood, malice flashing in his eyes. "I must go. They want me. They wil not harm her as long as I am alive!" It was a pleading prayer. Kreios hoped it was true, but deep down he suspected he would never see his daughter again.

Kreios took a sling and fil ed it with some barley cakes and then quickly grabbed a skin for water. He waved off his brother's attempt to go with him.

"You need to be here to protect Maria. They wil come back for her... and you." Zedkiel wandered about with a lost look on his face; the inner turmoil he felt was obvious. He pul ed Maria close and watched as Kreios prepared to leave.

Kreios donned his coat and tied his belt tight. If it was battle they wanted, it was battle they would taste.

He stepped out and looked up at the star-fil ed sky. With an agile movement he sprung up, shooting into the night sky, leaving a smal light trail behind.

Chapter XIX.

The air had a cool bite to it as Kreios flew through the sky. He knew that the Brotherhood had taken his daughter and he was having a hard time control ing his anger. His thoughts were racing with recklessly crafted scenarios in which he was slicing the enemy to bits and pieces. He was shouting at them on the battlefield, running toward them, praying for more demon flesh to cleave, and when he had exhausted these fantasies his mind turned toward what he would do to the Seer when they met.

His body was shaking with rage and his eyes burned with righteous hatred for the cowardly sneaking filthy beasts that had taken his daughter. He had every right. He would send every last one of them to Hel personal y.

After having lost his wife, he was broken and desperate. Now that he had lost his daughter, and he wasn't sure if she was dead or alive, he felt the eyes of the heavens upon him and his quest for justice. Now vengeance would belong to Kreios, and he would deliver it without mercy.

Kreios breathed heavy. Tears streamed down his face but he wiped them with the back of his hand. There would be a time to mourn, but this was not it; he needed to be strong for his daughter.

He descended into the trees and alighted softly, deep in the dark woods, near the main road from Gratzipt. He could smel horse manure. The demon horde would be on horses, moving fast through the forest to make as much time as they could. He moved toward the road quickly.

At its edge, he stopped. He could now smel dust in the air, along with the scent of the horses and the unmistakable choking signature of decay. They had pa.s.sed by this spot not long ago.

Softly, he retreated to the cover of the woods and climbed a tal tree. He had ascended to its uppermost reaches within seconds. He observed the terrain for miles around, looking for any trace of his prey. He could sense that they were near but now he could hear the clatter of hooves on the road, toward the setting moon. He knew which way to go now.

Kreios wanted to go in with sword drawn and slice them to pieces, but he feared what would become of his sweet baby girl. He pul ed his hood low on his head and silently dropped to the ground in the dark shadows of the forest. With deceptive speed he began to close in on the enemy, running in complete silence along the roadside, dodging brambles and leaping over fal en trees.

He could feel his strength start to fade, felt them feeding off him with every step he took. He had to move fast and with a sure hand if he was to see his little girl reach her first birthday.

Up ahead, at a wide spot in the road, there stood two horses, black as night. Sweat was pouring from them and Kreios could tel they had been ridden hard. He could hear the murmuring of a stream nearby as he stopped to take cover and observe them. The riders were taking a drink from the stream that flowed through the center of the clearing. These two must be the rear guard of the army. The rest would have gone on ahead and probably had his daughter.

Kreios took a moment to listen to the sounds of the woods. An owl cal ed out. The little creek steamed as it flowed over rocks and under old logs, and the smel of snow and deep forest decay fil ed his nostrils. Every sound in nature, including some that were not of the world, flooded his senses. He could hear the sound of their blackened hearts beating, the lapping of their lips as they drank like dogs.

There was a smal adjoining meadow by the wide spot in the road, fil ed with dead moistened stalks of tal gra.s.s left over from the heat of the summer.

Kreios slipped into the field and moved forward like a panther stalking its prey.

He could hear a baby's cry close by, m.u.f.fled. He saw a jiggling movement in one of the saddle bags. One of the horses moved in reaction to it, which brought the cry to his ears again, this time more insistent. It made his heart soar to the heavens. She is alive! And not with the horde, but here, with these two. He had to act with haste. His presence would very soon be felt by them as they fed more and more on his energy.

The stench was nearly overpowering already. Beastlike creatures, they smel ed of fire, sulfur and smoke. But it went further than that. The smel of decay and rotten flesh, the parasitic smel of an ugly life form feeding on another, growing like a fungus, was ever present. If Kreios had not been exposed to it many times before, it might have overpowered him.

He knew that one of them was human and one was not. He could smel the one that was of the original clan. These were bigger, had sharp shoulders and long arms that almost touched the ground.

Kreios was nearly upon them when the bigger one, the beast, stiffened and sniffed the air. Kreios silently drew the Sword of Light, knowing ful wel he had to kil the demon first, then the man, if the wretch could be cal ed by such a name. The demon turned as he pul ed his long black sword from his side, breaking the silence with a screeching, sc.r.a.ping sound.

A blinding light flashed out like a shot and the sword cleared the air. It fil ed Kreios with a burst of power and with every bit of it, he swung high and down, slicing the demon's head in half. He jerked the broadside of the sword in a snapping motion and the head of the creature fel to the earth in two pieces. Kreios was expecting it to be more difficult. The man, standing before him in awe, must have thought the same thing.

Kreios was not in the mood to be taking any chances, however. He lifted his sword high again, pointed toward the earth, and plunged it downward powerful y into the beast's heart. Thick, black blood gushed from its neck and up into the air as Kreios pul ed his weapon from the twitching body.

He turned to the man and held out his glowing sword. The demon's carca.s.s fel beside them with a dead thud, but the eyes of the man and the angel were locked upon one another.

The man was tal , with thick arms and broad shoulders. His long black hair streamed down from his head, crowning him in greasy filth. His sword was drawn and he held it like a man who knew how to wield it.

Kreios stal ed, waiting for his power to return, by asking the man a question. "Before I kil you, tel me why you took my daughter. What is she to you?"

The man looked at him, then up to the sky. He shifted his weight as if bargaining with a merchant, then spoke with a hideous voice. "We knew you would come for that, p.a.w.n. We do not want it-we want you." He spat on the ground as if completely bored by the situation. "You puppet. You fool for a lost cause! You think you know. You know not. The power now ranged against you and your blood-mates is more than you could imagine. We wanted to draw you to the canyon just beyond the forest edge," he motioned over his shoulder to the west, "then capture you alive and deliver you to the Seer." The man flexed his shoulders and planted his feet.

Kreios looked to the west and c.o.c.ked his head. "Why tel me now? You know I am going to kil you."

"Our number over that ridge are many. If we, the rear guard, do not ride into camp tonight, they wil come for you. We know where you and your brother are hiding. We wil kil the entire vil age for sport." His smile turned wickeder and fil ed with evil delight as his eyebrows arched. "We wil stop at nothing."

Then a sneer escaped the man's lips and his face contorted as he bared his teeth at Kreios.

"I have nothing you or your kind could want. Leave now and I wil let you live to tel your Seer to forget this foolish mission." Kreios saw instantly that his offer would not be taken. This man was determined to die.

"We want you-and we wil take you-for reasons that I wil not reveal to you. It is what the Seer has ordered and we wil deliver no matter the cost." The man rol ed forward onto the bal s of his feet, ready to strike. His eyes flashed with hatred as his grip tightened on his sword, which was stil pointed at Kreios.

"You would dare kil me when you are ordered to bring me alive to your Seer?"

"He can revive you as long as you have your head intact. He can bring you back. I wil kil you, bring your body to him and regain my place as captain of a hundred. Please do not tempt me."

"As you wish." Kreios sheathed his sword and stepped back toward the horses, in-between the attacker and his baby girl. Kreios had caught the man's mention of having been demoted from the rank of centurion. He was amused that the man thought he could stand in battle against one of the Sons of G.o.d without his demon to give him strength.

The man started forward, turning his sword across his body. With two steps he was upon Kreios faster than he had thought possible for a human. The man's sword slashed across and sliced deep into Kreios's chest. The man stopped and looked at him in shock when he didn't respond to the wound.

Kreios grabbed his coat where the sword had cut through and tore it from his body. His pure white skin had a faint glow to it and a bright red slash bled from where the man had cut him.

The human stared at Kreios's perfect skin. He took a step back as the wound healed right before his eyes. Kreios smiled and thought about how he was not even cold as he stood bare-chested in the freezing wind. He only wore human clothes to better blend in with them. A naked man with pure white skin would not go unnoticed very easily.

Kreios looked over to the wriggling saddlebags and his anger rose, boiling over. This human had dared to steal her away from him. In a flash of speed, he had grasped the muscular man by the hair and flung him into the sky, sending him high above the treetops. Jumping after him, he met the man in the air, burying a shattering fist deep into his abdomen.

The man tried to grapple with him as they began to fal back to the ground, but his wil had left him, having been replaced by terror. Kreios was hurtling downward, the man in his iron grip, with al the speed he could muster, like a bolt of lightning. The ground thundered as they made impact, sending gra.s.s and chunks of hard frozen dirt into the air.

Amid the crater, Kreios stood up. He dusted himself off, wiping blood and rubble from his chest and arms. The man was dead. Every bone in his body had been shattered from the impact. Blood began to pool where he lay.

Kreios found his torn coat and, taking the baby in his arms, he wrapped her tightly in it. Like a shooting star, Kreios sped through the night sky. The dark firmament held many shooting stars but on this night it played host for an ominous observer. The hol ow glistening eyes of the Seer looked on as Kreios raced across the sky.

It was time.

Chapter XX.

Kreios touched down in the woods just outside Gratzipt. The smoke from the huts hung low to the ground like a blanket. Kreios ran the rest of the way into town and down the main road to the humble house where his brother had hid his little family. It was just before dawn, the moon long ago set. A crackle of firelight on the eastern horizon prophesied the coming day. Not one townsman had awakened from his deep sleep, though death and evil surrounded them.

Zedkiel opened the door . Hugging his daughter, Kreios said, "She is safe, but we cannot stay any longer."

Zedkiel waved him in. "We have packed and are ready to leave. We must go now if we are to survive the day." He had a large makeshift pack fil ed with the essentials on the ground next to the door. Blankets, dried barley bread, a knife, wood and bone utensils, and a few things for cooking. They did not need much food, only enough to keep Maria nourished. The rest they could hunt and cook over an open fire.

"They are camped a few miles from the gorge with an army. The Seer is with them...they are planning something," Kreios said. He stuffed a bundle of rope and more dried food in his pack as he spoke. "I kil ed two of them. The Sword has restored me faster than I have ever experienced. I actual y healed from a mortal wound right in front of the man. Something is happening-and I must confess that I do not know what it is."

"You have your daughter and that is al that matters. I must take Maria away and keep her safe. I fear I wil not be able to accompany you on your journey.

But we wil keep your baby safe." Zedkiel cal ed Maria from the other room and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was tender, speaking much more than words could say.