The Soul Destroyer: The Soul Summoner Series Book 7

by Hyder, Elicia

  Cassiel looked at the Father. “Is this to do with the famine crisis?”

  The Father nodded. “And even more to do with the government crisis. There hasn’t been a hunger crisis like this since the 1980s. That famine killed about four hundred thousand people. This one will rival it if something doesn’t change soon.”

  “Has there been a drought?” I asked, knowing it would be easy for him to bring rain.

  “There was, yes, and it killed the harvests, but that’s not why these people are starving now. The corrupt prime minister of Malab is withholding stores of food for his people, aid sent here from around the world to feed them. So I have come to teach these good people how to pull fish from the two vibrant river systems they have access to. Can you believe fishing is such a novelty here?”

  I answered no, and Cassiel answered yes at the same time. We exchanged a private smile.

  “But why not go straight to the government and force them to release the food?” I asked, confused.

  The Father put his hand on my shoulder. “I’d like to tell you the old ‘teach a man to fish’ proverb, but it seems a little satiric.”

  “I’ll go deal with the prime minister,” Reuel said, watching the boys throw sticks out into the water.

  “And I’ll let you.” The Father looked at the men on the riverbanks. “But my place is here, for now.”

  “What do they get if they win the tournament?” I asked.

  The Father smiled. “Pure gold.”

  My brow lifted. “Really?”

  The Father reached into his jacket and pulled out a bright yellow tub of Old Bay Seasoning. “Best thing in this realm to put on fish, you know.”

  Reuel and I both laughed. Cassiel took the container to study the label.

  “The idea is to teach them to bring in enough food to feed their families and to sell at the market,” the Father said.

  “That’s brilliant.” I shook my head. “It’s still really random.”

  The Father chuckled again. “Tell me, what brings the three of you so far from Eden?”

  Cassiel turned toward me and folded her arms across her chest.

  I took a deep breath. “Father, are you aware that the Council has sanctioned the killing of innocents to prevent the Morning Star from taking human form?” I kept my eyes away from Cassiel.

  He looked at her. Then he looked back at me. He put his arm around my shoulders. “Take a walk with me, Warren.” We walked away from the group, back toward the tree line we’d come through. “Did you really come all the way to Africa to tattle on Cassiel?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  “They’re talking about killing innocents, even children.”

  He turned to face me. “You understand that it’s nearly impossible for an angel to take a human child? That the child would have to be next to death anyway and completely unable to survive on their own.”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “And that in all cases of demon possession of an adult, it’s a willing partnership between the spirit and the human soul making them not-so-innocent after all.”

  “Yes, but—”

  He held up a hand to silence me. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really upset about.”

  “Father, Fury just gave birth to a son, an angelic son. Under the new laws, I’m obligated to destroy the child.”

  He put his hands on both my shoulders. “But it’s not a child. And you’re not destroying anyone. The body is but a shell, remember?”

  “I know, but Fury won’t see it that way. Even she knows the truth, and still—”

  “And still she’s grown an emotional attachment to the child. Have you considered that might be by design?” he asked, leveling his gaze with mine. “Do you think it was a random choice of a woman you once loved to bear an angel?”

  My face fell.

  “Duty is never easy, my son.”

  “There’s more.” I swallowed down all the emotion that threatened to boil over inside me. “They’ve decided I must bring Iliana to Eden as a baby.”

  “When?”

  “By her first birthday. She’s not even walking yet.”

  He looked at the ground for a long moment. “Warren, do you know why I appointed the Council?”

  I shook my head.

  “To make these kinds of decisions. The hard calls no one should have to make.” He sighed. “I trust it was not an easy or thoughtless ruling, and as much as I hate it for you, I must stand behind them in this.”

  My heart tumbled.

  He lowered his voice. “However, if you find the Morning Star before she turns a year old, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to the Council.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Hope swelled in my heart again. “Will you come with me to see Fury?”

  He shook his head. “My place is here, for now.” He took both of my hands. “I have faith in you, Warren. If I didn’t believe you could handle this job, I wouldn’t have entrusted you with the mantle of the Archangel. Never forget that.”

  I bowed my head, honored but still discouraged. “Thank you.”

  Behind us was a loud splash! followed by screaming. I looked over the Father’s head to see the youngest boy, Kelyle, thrashing around in the river.

  The current was swift, dragging him under as he fought unsuccessfully to keep his face above water. Reuel, Cassiel, and I took off running along with the local men toward him. I was the closest to where Kelyle was swept downriver.

  Without thinking, I threw my hands forward and unleashed my power, parting the Red Sea like Moses. A wall of water peeled back away from Kelyle, damming the river and dumping him in a sputtering heap onto the muck of the riverbed.

  One man rushed through the opening and lifted the child in his arms. Then he paused with a look of horror on his face as he looked at the growing wall of water in front of him.

  The other men began screaming and motioning him forward. His boots were sinking in the mud, making each step a challenge, and the wall climbed higher and higher as I held the water back.

  Finally, the man reached the riverbank and pushed the child into the arms of his friends. Then he clawed at the ground trying to get out. A friend grasped the back of his shirt, hauling him up on the back. One of his shoes was sucked off his foot by the mud.

  I unleashed the wall like a tidal wave. Fifty feet or more of water crashed back down onto the riverbed, and I held it within its banks to keep anyone else from being sucked downstream.

  On the ground, Kelyle was coughing and spewing water from his lungs. But he was alive.

  When the river calmed, I collapsed to my knees, breathless and sweating under the African sun.

  Cassiel came over and touched my shoulder. “Well done, Warren. You saved his life.”

  I used the tail of my shirt to wipe my face, then I rocked back onto my feet to stand.

  The locals gawked at me in fear.

  “I think that’s my cue to leave,” I said, taking a step back.

  The Father patted me on the arm. “I’ll see you back in Eden before long. Are you going there now?”

  “Soon, but first, we’ll pay a visit to the capital of Malab.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Father, do you know if Metatron or Sandalphon have the power to identify the Morning Star in infancy?”

  He laughed with surprise. “You know, I really don’t.” He lowered his voice. “Not in this form anyway.”

  “Of course.” I offered Him a sad smile. “Goodbye, Father.”

  He gave me a rare, very human, handshake. “Goodbye, Warren.”

  Chapter Ten

  The capital city of Tigahb was physically only eighty miles away from the Barid village, but it was light-years away in terms of modernization. Tigahb didn’t just have cars and electricity; it had interstates and skyscrapers.

  “Are we sure this is the place?” Cassiel asked when we walked out of the alleyway we had appeared in.

&nb
sp; I double-checked the map on my phone. “This is it. We’re only a few blocks from the Capitol building.”

  “What will we do when we get there?” Cassiel asked.

  Reuel smiled. “Ala cey en me vi.”

  Cassiel’s eyes narrowed looking up at him. “You know you can speak English, right?”

  “Oh, right.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he clapped his hand over it. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve never spoken English out loud before.”

  I laughed and patted him on the back. “Congratulations, my friend.”

  “But remember, they don’t speak English here,” Cassiel said as we walked along the alleyway.

  “What is it they speak?” I asked.

  “Tigrinya. I can translate for you both.”

  “Is there any language you can’t speak?”

  She just laughed and rolled her eyes.

  So smug.

  “All the angels except you can understand anything. Did you know that?” she asked.

  “Did you know that,” I mimicked in a high-pitch voice. “Yes, I’m aware. Thanks for rubbing it in.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  It was said all languages descended from Katavukai, and those who were created speaking it—all the angels but me—could interpret other languages through it, like it served as a universal cipher key to unravel the spoken word.

  Because my job spanned the globe, language barriers were a very real thing for me. Fortunately, the bulk of my work happened across the spirit line, where all souls and spirits could inherently speak and understand Katavukai.

  We crossed the busy street and turned right, following the turn-by-turn directions of my phone’s app. People were everywhere, walking along the sidewalks and weaving in and out of traffic. Shops and restaurants lined the road to the Capitol building, and the food smelled amazing. Sweet and spicy, unlike anything I’d ever smelled before.

  As we neared an intersection, commotion behind us caught my attention. A male voice was shouting over the noise of the block. Cassiel turned her ear toward the noise. “Someone is shouting wait.”

  The three of us turned. A man with a hefty bodyguard was pushing his way through the crowd to reach us. A quick scan of his soul revealed nothing sinister, so I allowed him to approach. He wore a sharp navy suit and shiny shoes, and his guard was nearly the size of Reuel. When the man was close enough, I saw his eyes. One was black; the other was gold.

  Cassiel put her hand on mine. “He knows us.”

  “Well, see what he has to say.”

  The man was chattering a thousand words per minute. Cassiel put her hands up to stop him and spoke to him in Tigrinya. He panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Finally, he had collected himself enough to speak to her clearly.

  “He wants to know if we’ve come to deal with the prime minister’s secretary,” she translated.

  “Who is the prime minister’s secretary?” I asked with a shrug. “And who is this guy?”

  She spoke to him again and then listened intently. “This man’s name is Umar Tadese. He’s the chairman of the People’s Liberation League, the largest political party here in Malab.” Cassiel looked impressed. I, on the other hand, knew nothing about politics. “He says he’s been waiting for someone to come and deal with Idris Baria.”

  Reuel looked confused. “Who?”

  She asked him then turned slowly toward me. “Idris Baria is a spirit.”

  “A good or bad one?” I asked.

  Her head tilted. “If he’s starving a nation, I don’t think I’d put my money on him being a good guy.”

  Damn it. I looked away and stuffed my fists into my pockets. Sometimes my stupidity begged for her smugness.

  “He’s a bad one,” Umar said.

  We all turned toward him. “You speak English?” I asked.

  “I speak eleven languages.”

  My head pulled back. “Wow. That’s impressive. Can you get us into the prime minister’s office?”

  “First, tell me why you are here,” he said.

  I looked at the bodyguard and lifted an eyebrow.

  Deciphering my meaning, Umar waved his hand. “My guard, Romodan, is loyal to me. You may speak freely.”

  “It is our understanding that your government is withholding aid from the starving people of Malab,” I said.

  Umar nodded emphatically. “Yes, we are, but it’s only at the insistence of the prime minister and his aide, Idris Baria. Baria is not human. He is like you.”

  I shook my head. “He is nothing like us.”

  Umar smiled. “Of course not. Are you here to remove him from power?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Reuel said.

  “Is Baria the one calling the shots for the prime minister?” I asked.

  “I believe so.”

  “Where can we find him?”

  He looked at his watch. “They are at the Capitol right now. There is a foreign-affairs meeting in progress.”

  “Can you get us in?” I asked.

  “Of course I can.”

  Cassiel took a step toward me and lowered her voice. “Given his title, he’s one of the most powerful men in the government of Malab.”

  I looked at Reuel. “Good enough for me,” he said.

  I gave a slight bow to Umar. “Lead the way.”

  Worry suddenly washed over Umar’s face. He turned to the left and to the right before gripping his skull with both hands—a universal sign of freaking out.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “My wife is in the café back there. She’ll be furious with me for breaking our date.”

  I chuckled. “I can understand that.”

  “Come, come. I will only be a moment,” Umar said, walking backward toward the café.

  We walked with him and waited near the door. Another guard was inside near the table he approached. Umar was having a lively conversation with the woman at the table. There were lots of arm gestures and head shaking, but she must have consented to let him leave. He picked up a brown leather briefcase and carried it over to us.

  His wife was glaring at me. I waved.

  “I apologize. It isn’t often she and I can have breakfast in the city,” he said when he reached us.

  From there, we followed him and his guards to a black full-sized SUV waiting at the curb. It was clearly armored, much like the ones at Claymore. The driver opened the back door and Umar and his guards climbed inside. The guards went to the very back, Cassiel and I sat in the middle seat with Umar, and Reuel got in the front.

  I suspected we could have walked to the Capitol in the time it took us all to squeeze into the car, but whatever.

  “What’s the story with this guy, Idris Baria?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.

  “Seven months ago, my predecessor, Saare Kelifah, was elected to the minister’s office. But about a month after he took control of the country, there was an assassination attempt on his life. He very nearly died. When he came back to office, Baria was brought in to be his first advisor.” He reached into the seat-back pocket of the driver’s seat and produced a magazine. He handed it to me. “Our prime minister hasn’t been the same since.”

  I froze. The man on the cover had a black goatee and deep-set eyes. He wore an expensive suit with the flag of Malab tacked to the lapel.

  Something was off. Way off.

  Cassiel gripped my thigh.

  I looked at Umar again. “This is your prime minister?”

  “Yes.”

  Cassiel took the magazine. “This isn’t possible.”

  “You notice something strange about him, yes?” Umar asked.

  I only nodded.

  The only other time in my life I’d ever seen anything like it was the first time I looked at a photo of Sloan’s biological mother. We’d mistaken her for a murder victim because neither Sloan nor myself could see a human soul. Back then, I could only see humans. Now I could see angels too, and this guy…was n
either.

  * * *

  The Malab Capitol building looked a lot like Fort Knox without all the fences and security cameras. It was a gray, two-story slab-like structure with small windows uniformly lined across the front of each floor. A small, flat pyramid rested on top with a tall antenna of some ancient communications system jutting from the peak. In the center of the bottom floor, concrete steps lead up to a covered entrance.

  We took the steps two at a time with Umar and his guards leading the way. “Please don’t speak to anyone unless spoken to until we get past security. It’s the only way in.”

  Reuel chuckled. “It’s not the only way.”

  I smiled.

  Umar stopped and turned toward us. “Are any of you carrying weapons?”

  My smile widened. “Not the kind that will set off a metal detector.”

  Obviously satisfied, he motioned us forward. The front doors opened into a wide lobby. Two security guards were waving metal-detection wands over people waiting in line. Umar took us to a separate area where security recognized him immediately. He said something to a guard in a green uniform who was sitting behind a large desk.

  Cassiel leaned toward me. “He’s telling the guards we’re here for a meeting with the prime minister.”

  The guard checked the computer in front of him, then shook his head. Umar waved his hand, clearly arguing with the man. After a moment, the guard carefully looked us over. Then he pointed to the security line.

  “It sounds like they’ll let us in, but we have to allow the guards to check us out,” Cassiel said. “Apparently, they’re having trouble with their computer system.”

  I looked at Reuel. “Did you have something to do with that?”

  He smiled and pointed at a security camera above our heads on the ceiling.

  “Good job, Reuel. You’re gonna have to teach me how to do that.”

  Umar waited for us behind the ropes. Reuel was carefully studying everyone in the room. “What are you thinking?” I asked him.

  He crossed his huge arms. “I’m hoping this isn’t a setup. You?”

  I turned my palms up. “Well, now I’m hoping this isn’t a set-up too. Thanks a lot.”

  He grinned.