The muscles in El-i-miir’s arm screamed as Ilgrin jolted, occasionally dipping and losing control as the wolves pursued from below. ‘I can’t keep this up.’ He clenched his teeth and the veins bulged in his neck. His face was blue with strain and his flight was becoming increasingly erratic.
‘Don’t you dare let go!’ Seteal shouted, her face a picture of panic. She twisted her hand so that she, too, was able to get a grip on Ilgrin’s forearm. A moment later, the ground spiralled up at them. Twenty strides from the ground, the silt regained enough control to prevent their impending deaths, but not so much as to regain any altitude.
Burning pain shot through the leg that hit the ground first, but El-i-miir had little time to focus on the sensation as a moment later she was rolling head over heels along the earth. She opened her mouth to scream, which was a mistake as instead it was filled with mud. When she came to a stop, El-i-miir opened her eyes to find a wolf standing over her, snarling and drooling. She screamed as the animal bared its fangs, but a moment later she was screaming for another reason entirely.
Ilgrin leapt over the creature and lifted it into the air with his bare hands. The wolf snarled and squirmed, but in competition with a demon, its strength was negligible. Ilgrin snapped its neck and dropped the corpse.
A second wolf leapt for Ilgrin’s throat as he raced toward it. Another of the animals snapped at Seteal’s heels as she attempted to climb a tree. El-i-miir possessed the animal and turned it against its kin. She spotted another and did the same. How many could she simultaneously affiliate? El-i-miir didn’t know. She’d never been able to test the limits of her abilities.
Five snarling animals circled Ilgrin as even more poured toward Seteal. El-i-miir looked back and forth at her companions, unsure of who she should protect with the wolves under her control. As one, the wolves renewed their attack.
Ilgrin snatched at the first one and used it as a club to beat off the others before breaking its back over his knee. Two others leapt at him. One he strangled, the other he grasped with elongated toes to throw fifteen strides into the air. The animal landed with a heavy thud and failed to move thereafter.
Clearly Ilgrin could take care of himself. El-i-miir bared her fangs and snarled. She felt her four sets of paws tearing across the earth as the wolves attacked those perusing Seteal. El-i-miir leapt, closing her jaws tight around the neck of her kin. At the same time, her other body leapt, sinking its fangs into the leg of another. The others fought back, but couldn’t compete with those under her control. As intelligent as they might’ve been, they couldn’t compete with the fangs of their kin coupled with the mind of a human.
The various El-i-miirs prowled about but she was content that the others were all dead. She let out a soft whine from two of her mouths and laid down subordinately.
‘We need weapons,’ Ilgrin said, gazing at the bright red blood covering his clothes before more closely analysing the puncture wounds on his arm from which his own blood trickled.
‘I think I’ll keep these two for a while,’ El-i-miir spoke through her human mouth while unable to avoid simultaneously growling through the mouths of her wolves. One of them had a slight limp, but had otherwise escaped unscathed.
‘Are you sure you can handle them?’ Seteal asked worriedly.
‘I’ve possessed more wilful creatures than these in my time.’ El-i-miir raised her eyebrows in irritation at Seteal doubting her, but after having noticed the turmoil taking place in her aura she found herself unable to maintain ill-feelings.
El-i-miir jolted and turned again to re-examine Seteal’s aura. There was something different about it, as though there was a smaller aura beneath the main one. El-i-miir couldn’t remember having seen anything like it. Still, there were more pressing matters that demanded her attention.
*
Despite the cold, when they came across a small stream, Ilgrin refused to pass up the opportunity to wash himself clean of wolf blood. He clambered over slippery rocks, using his wings to maintain balance, before pulling them tight and diving into the freezing water. The chill was motivation enough to complete his task at a harried pace.
‘We should camp here for the night,’ Ilgrin implored the others as he made his way back to the riverbank. The sun sat lazily on the horizon and he failed see the sense in passing up an opportunity to sleep by such a ready supply of water.
‘I’ll gather some firewood,’ Seteal said. Although she acknowledged his suggestion, she’d refused to look him in the eye.
By the time the fire was properly burning, the shadows were long and the night was fast approaching. Ilgrin hung his shirt and pants over a branch close to the fire in the hopes that they’d be dry by morning and wrapped himself in his cloak to maintain decency.
The group sat about the fire with stomachs rumbling while Seeol flittered about catching and eating whatever insects were unfortunate enough to catch his eye. Ilgrin watched in curiosity as El-i-miir turned to her wolves with a penetrating stare before they both scampered off into the night. When they returned, each held a hare in their jaws. Ilgrin took it upon himself to perform the less-than-glamorous duty of skinning and gutting the animals, before cooking them over the fire and doling out the meat.
Once fed, El-i-miir again sent the wolves into the woods. ‘They won’t be returning this time.’
‘Why?’ Seteal asked as she lay down. ‘I’d have felt a lot safer with them guarding over us.’
‘I can’t affiliate in my sleep,’ El-i-miir stated as though it should have been obvious. Her tone reminded Ilgrin that she was very much unused to spending time in the company of anyone but for other Elglair.
Silence prevailed for a good while thereafter, during which Seteal stared unnervingly at Ilgrin’s toes.
‘Can I help you?’
‘How am I going to forgive you?’ Seteal looked him in the eye.
‘Seteal,’ El-i-miir reprimanded.
‘No, it’s okay.’ Ilgrin put a hand on El-i-miir’s knee. ‘Let her speak.’
‘I’m not trying to be argumentative,’ Seteal said. ‘I’m just asking . . . how?’
‘I’m not asking you to forgive me,’ Ilgrin stated, ‘and perhaps you never will. But I want you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry for what happened to your mother.’
‘I know you are.’ Seteal exhaled slowly. ‘I know you never meant to hurt anyone.’
‘It means a lot to hear you say that.’ Ilgrin swallowed loudly.
‘But I can’t forgive you.’ Seteal’s voice became distorted by emotion.
‘I understand.’ Ilgrin lowered his eyes.
‘Damn it.’ Seteal’s eyes were rimmed with tears. ‘Why do you have to be so nice? You’re making me like you when I so badly want to hate you. It’s your fault my mother is dead.’
Ilgrin said nothing further and the three sat in silence. ‘I’m going to sleep,’ he muttered after half an hour of staring at his hands. He ascended the nearest tree and found a thick branch on which to perch. He squatted in an upright position and pulled his cloak tight.
Ilgrin had never slept well in the human fashion. His parents had provided him with a bed and he’d tried to sleep the way they’d expected, but his wings got in the way and he couldn’t make himself comfortable. In the end, he’d taken to perching on the wooden frame.
‘Goodnight,’ he called down, but only El-i-miir replied in like manner.
Ilgrin slept well until a loud crack woke him before sunrise. The branch broke beneath him and having been caught off-guard, Ilgrin failed to open his wings in time. He hit the ground with a thud. Seteal and El-i-miir were startled by the sound and stared anxiously about themselves.
‘Ilgrin! Behind you!’ El-i-miir shouted in alarm. He dove out of the way as the entire tree fell forward. It struck the earth and slid into the stream.
‘What is going on?’ Ilgrin mumbled to himself.
‘I don’t know.’ El-i-miir got to her feet to examine the tree base. ‘It looks rotten.’
‘What are the chances of that?’ Ilgrin shook his head in disbelief, his eyes landing on Seeol watching from a neighbouring tree. The bird tilted his head this way and that, seemingly uncertain of what’d happened.
‘We should keep moving,’ Ilgrin gathered his clothes and got dressed as modestly as the circumstances would allow for. After drinking their fill, the group made their way back to the weed-strewn path. Everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong had done so.
Ilgrin was not at all a superstitious man, but even he was beginning to wonder if they’d been cursed.
Deuteronomy 7
15. And the Lord will take away from thee all sickness and put none of the darkness of Old World, which thou knowest, upon thee, but will lay it upon those who hate thee. And many will hate thee.
16. And thou shalt consume all the people which the Lord thy Maker shall deliver thee: thine eye shall have no pity upon them.
Scriptures of the Holy Tome
CHAPTER FOUR
THE HIGH ELDER
By the time the ancient, dilapidated walls of Setbrana appeared in the distance, the travellers were tired and sodden. Seteal had twisted her ankle to such a point that she was forced to walk with a limp. The day after Ilgrin’s near brush with death, fate had thrown them yet another burden. While they slept, the campfire had gotten so out of control that it quickly surrounded and almost killed them. As silly as it sounded, it was beginning to seem to Seteal as though the Ways themselves had turned against her. Seeol was the only exception, thus far having gone unscathed.
‘We should wait awhile.’ Seteal eyed the ancient wall with uncertainty. ‘They may have watchtowers. We’ll continue after dark.’
Having arrived so late in the day, the travellers didn’t need to wait long for night to creep in with a fog so thick that even Seeol was unable to make out the city beyond.
‘Let’s go,’ Seteal said. Ilgrin threw his cloak over his wings and secured it as best he could. Likewise, El-i-miir raised her hood, thinking it better not to alert the locals to the presence of Elglair. Seteal took the lead, limping toward the black-bricked city.
It took until she was within ten strides of the wall before Seteal was able to make out its looming presence. The place seemed so entirely foreboding that she found it difficult to believe a man such as her father could’ve come from there. The path ended abruptly at a pair of black polished gates. Beside the gates was a much smaller door and it was to this one that Seteal turned her attention.
‘Stay back,’ she hissed at the others, who folded into the shadows at her command.
Taking a deep breath, Seteal reached out and tapped on the door. She waited a moment and knocked again, but no one seemed to be on the other side. She reached for the handle and wriggled it a few times, but as she’d expected, it was locked. Just as Seteal was about to turn away, a window slid open at the top of the door and a pair of suspicious eyes stared out from within.
‘What?’
‘We’re travellers,’ Seteal said softly. ‘We seek entry for lodging.’
The window slid shut and the door creaked open about a half handswidth. Seteal prodded the door with one finger and cringed at the echoing screech of the rusted hinges. Beyond the doorway was a small passage through the wall and out into the city proper. There were no signs of life, not even of the stranger who’d let them in.
‘I don’t like this,’ Ilgrin whispered as he and El-i-miir followed Seteal into the gloom.
‘This is dangerous,’ Seeol intoned from his place in the dirt at their feet. He glanced at the gatekeeper’s chair with suspicion.
‘What is that?’ El-i-miir enquired at the distinct rumble of an irritated cat echoing along the tunnel.
‘That’s a . . .’ Seteal trailed off, her eyes widening in horror. ‘Seeol!’ she cried, spinning around as the black feline pounced.
In that frozen moment, several things happened in quick succession. Seteal put too much weight on her injured foot, stumbled against the wall, and toppled into the gatekeeper’s chair. With her weight distributed unevenly, the chair tilted forward and one of the legs pressed down into a loose paver. The paver broke and a shard sailed through the air just as the cat’s jaws were about to close around Seeol’s miniscule form. The shard cracked against the side of the animal’s head, either knocking it out or killing it. Seteal put a hand to her mouth in disbelief.
‘That’s . . . not possible,’ Ilgrin murmured.
‘Is mean.’ Seeol fluttered onto Seteal’s arm and dug in his toes. ‘I nearly got eatted.’
‘Somehow, I don’t think so.’ Seteal bit her lip, suspecting that the cat’s fate was in accordance to something more than coincidence. ‘Let’s just find the inn. What was it called?’
‘The Dark Water Inn,’ El-i-miir replied, squinting at the crumpled bit of paper. ‘I think it’s this way,’ she whispered, analysing thin air where she was undoubtedly reading the Ways.
As she followed El-i-miir through the city square, Seteal made a point of memorising her surroundings in case of getting separated. The buildings came in varieties of black and grey. All of them were run down or dilapidated. Not a single soul moved about the cobblestone streets despite the evening being young.
‘Where is everyone?’ Seteal mused aloud.
‘Perhaps our luck has changed,’ Ilgrin murmured hopefully.
‘This place is horrid,’ Seeol intoned. ‘Ugly. Bad place. We should fly away quickly.’
‘It’s ok, Seeol,’ Seteal reassured the animal even as her own feelings of anxiety increased.
A strong breeze tore through the square and Ilgrin’s cloak fluttered open for only a second before he was able to yank it back into place. A door slammed across the street and a piercing scream tore through the night. The scream was a child’s and it was repeated over and over again. A man shouted something indistinct.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Ilgrin hissed at Seteal as they followed El-i-miir down an alley. ‘Is it much farther?’ he addressed El-i-miir.
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘Just hurry.’ Dogs barking echoed though the square and bounced around the ally. El-i-miir picked up her pace to a run. ‘Down here.’ She turned abruptly.
A window swung open above, hitting a vase that’d been balanced precariously on the ledge outside. The vase fell and shattered atop El-i-miir’s head. She hit the ground and didn’t get back up. ‘El-i-miir,’ Ilgrin gasped, releasing his cloak and gathering her into his arms.
‘Demon!’ a woman wailed from the window above, a cigarette flying from her lips and singeing Seteal’s arm. ‘That’s a demon!’ she cried out a second time before slamming the window so hard that the glass shattered.
‘Torrid.’ Ilgrin turned to Seteal, his large purple eyes wide with fear. ‘What now?’
‘I don’t know.’ Seteal raised her voice as the barking grew louder. ‘Come on.’ She sprinted along the alley in the same direction in which El-i-miir had been leading them. Ilgrin raced along beside her, while Seeol flittered from windowsill to windowsill. As he did, items started falling mysteriously at the barest hint of a breeze or the smallest bump in the night.
A rake hit the ground not far from Seteal’s bad foot. Ilgrin got caught in a mass of clothing when the line unexpectedly snapped. Vases and pot plants rained down around them to shatter and explode as projectiles of soil and shards of ceramics.
Seteal cast a glance at Ilgrin as he clung to El-i-miir’s unconscious form. Their eyes connected briefly, his reflecting the same fear that undoubtedly showed in hers. The Ways had turned against them, but together they ran, united in saving someone they loved. Then Seteal realised the truth--no matter how unusual the timing might’ve been. For a long time she’d been consumed by hatred and prejudice. She’d missed what was right in front of her. El-i-miir’s head bounced about in Ilgrin’s arms, blood trickling from her scalp. A lump of anxiety formed in Seteal’s chest at t
he thought that the woman might already be dead.
‘Ilgrin, wait,’ Seteal grabbed the silt’s arm and they came to an abrupt stop.
Ahead of them, a large black dog growled menacingly. Ilgrin took a step toward it, waiting for the inevitability of an attack. A glance back the way they’d come revealed at least ten more of the animals in pursuit.
‘It’s no use,’ Seteal panted.
‘To torrid with it.’ Ilgrin leapt forward, picked up the black dog and threw it yelping into some bushes. In the same streamlined motion, he leapt into the air, snatched onto a balcony railing and lowered El-i-miir onto the landing. ‘Seteal, take my hand!’
Seteal’s heart rate increased. The pack of dogs enveloped her and several began to pounce. Her mouth was dry. The wind moved uncomfortably against her skin. Her dress swished about her ankles. With a scream lodged firmly in her throat, Seteal thrust out her hands. A pulse of intense heat surged through her arms, not to be released until it burst away from her palms. An invisible force struck the dogs and blasted them backward through the air in a frenzy of snarls and yelps. Seteal panted rapidly, examining her hands fearfully. ‘What was that?’
‘That . . . was you.’ Ilgrin stared at her. ‘Are you ok?’
‘I think so,’ Seteal replied as she reached for Ilgrin’s hand and he lifted her onto the balcony.
‘We need to get her inside,’ Ilgrin said, shattering a window with his elbow before reaching in to unlock the adjacent door. An old man gasped and without hesitation Ilgrin pounced, firmly covering his mouth with one hand. ‘Bring her inside,’ he hissed at Seteal. ‘Quickly,’ he urged, restraining the old man against the far wall.
After doing as the silt had demanded, Seteal shut the door and turned to witness a scene that she hadn’t expected. ‘That’s him,’ Seteal stared at Gez-reil in disbelief. ‘Ilgrin, that’s him.’
Of course, by the time Seteal had spoken, it was already too late. Having regained his senses, the Elglair Elder seized the Ways and sent Ilgrin racing across the room like a fearful child.
The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit Page 5
