Heaven's Night

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by Harry Aderton


  My vision swam, pinpricks of light flashed randomly. Nausea clenched my stomach. I closed my eyes, the world spinning.

  “Get up,” Requel said from above me.

  My eyelids cracked open. “I don’t think I can. You go. I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

  “We’re wasting time!” She folded her arms and refused to look at me. “They’re still behind us. I made a false trail but I don’t know if it worked. We have to keep moving.”

  “Then perhaps you should go on without me. I’m only slowing you down.”

  Her lips pressed together angrily. “Are you going to get up or not?”

  Wearily, I climbed to a sitting position, my vision lurching. “I don’t know how much further I can manage.”

  Surprisingly, she lifted me up by my arm and I rose to my feet. I smiled gratefully.

  She scowled and turned hastily away. “There is a place we can rest up ahead.”

  I followed her again. But she moved more slowly this time and even let me walk beside her.

  The roar of a waterfall drowned out all noise long before we reached it. We trod carefully along the banks, keeping our trail to stones and hard surfaces. The waters surged and frothed. She led me up an incline past a copse of trees.

  The waterfall rose up thirty feet, the great rush of water saturating everything in the vicinity. We scaled the slope at the edge of the waterfall. The large stones were slick and we moved slowly. Halfway up, she ducked into a fissure I had not seen. I followed, bent over, the opening barely large enough for me to pass through.

  A small path opened into an alcove behind the waterfall. It was nearly twenty feet deep and narrow. We moved towards the back wall. Fur blankets were tucked in a corner along with tools and two large covered baskets. The stone floor sloped upwards gradually preventing any pools or puddles from collecting despite the heavy moisture.

  She spread two blankets on the floor, several feet apart, then sat on one. I sat on the other. She pulled her knees to her chest and stared fixedly at the cascading wall of water. “Why did you say all those things to me?” she asked quietly.

  “Because they were true,” I answered simply.

  “But I do not know you. Yet you speak as if you know me. How can that be?”

  “Because I do know you. I’ve known you for an eternity. I know you better than anyone else.”

  Her eyes focused on me for the first time that day and flashed angrily. “Then what is my name?”

  “Requel.”

  “That is not my name!”

  “Yes, it is. You don’t remember.”

  “What game are you playing at?”

  “No games.”

  “Who are you?” she snarled. “Tell me the truth!”

  “I have told you the truth and I told you who I am. My name is Sariel. I came to this place to look for you but I could never harm you.”

  “You invade my home, your people kill my people, and now you say you know me and would never hurt me? I’ve only seen you once, the day you tried to capture me! You called me a witch. Tell me who you are!” Tears sprang to her eyes and she turned away, wiping them with the back of her hand.

  “You’re right, I will tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

  So I did. I began slowly, speaking of our soul’s angelic heritage, the astral and the Causal, our home there, the war, our last meeting, how I tried to find her, and how it led me here into this body. I left nothing out. Hours passed. She said nothing. It was evening when I finished and spoke in the darkness.

  We sat in silence for some time. I wished I could see her face, to see if she thought me insane. A part of me was grateful I didn’t. I could only imagine how ridiculous I must have sounded.

  “Sariel?” she said at last, her voice timid.

  “Yes?”

  “I believe you. Do you know why?”

  “No. I can’t think of one reason why you should. In this place, in this world, the things that I have spoken of are like a dream and have no place in this grim reality.”

  “I believe you because of the way you looked at me when you first saw me in my village,” she said softly. “You looked at me the same way the next day when you said … all those things to me. I will never forget that look. It was as if you found something you lost. Such joy, such … love. It frightened me that night and confused me. I couldn’t sleep. But it also made me feel … special. I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

  My heart leapt at her words and warmth spread through me. I grinned. “I am glad.”

  “What happens now?” she asked finally.

  “I don’t know. It’s been a long day. Why don’t you rest? We can figure it out in the morning.”

  “Sariel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know I shouldn’t feel safe with you, but I do.”

  She curled up in her blanket. Soon she was asleep.

  I sat back. Will wonders never cease? I didn’t know what to do next, but it didn’t matter. She believed me. My heart soared.

  For the first time I could remember, I felt at peace. I lay down in the fur blanket and stared at the outline of her form. Love poured from me. My heart was filled. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and I didn’t want to. I floated in a sea of joy and I felt like myself again. I felt whole. How odd to feel this way, in this primitive world, in another’s body. But I did and I refused to question it. Requel and I were together. That was all that mattered to me in that moment. I savored it.

  What kind of spirit are you?

  My peace fractured. I wondered when Malak would come forward. He heard everything I told Requel, I was sure of it.

  Still, this wasn’t the question I expected from him. “What do you mean?”

  I heard you speak but I understood little. Are you a strong spirit?

  “Strong?” I chuckled. “Once, perhaps. Now I am as strong as your body allows me to be.”

  You were strong enough to take what was mine.

  “I would not call that strength. I invaded your body and caught you unprepared. It was a cowardly act, born of desperation. I’m not proud of it.”

  You sound as if I could have stopped you. Could I have?

  I shrugged. “Does it matter? That is behind us now. Let us not dwell on it. I promised to give you your body back and I will do so once Requel is safe. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  I will think on your words.

  I frowned but did not respond. I did not want to think of Malak, not when Requel lay so close. I continued to stare fondly at her form when my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  “Betrayer!”

  The voice was muffled and spoken as if from a great distance. I stirred from my sleep. The sun shone brightly high above and I stood at the base of a hill. Where was the waterfall?

  I turned to see two of Corm’s hunters holding Requel by her arms. She kicked out at me, teeth bared and snarling.

  “Betrayer!” she screamed again, tears streaming from her eyes.

  I could only watch in numbed horror. Was I dreaming?

  I felt my hand come up against my will and slap her across the cheek. “Quiet, witch!” my voice growled, my hand stinging.

  Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth. Hatred filled her eyes.

  Malak, what is happening here? I cried.

  “My spirit awakens at last,” said Malak.

  “Perhaps you should eat some more blood root,” said Corm stepping into view. The large chieftain smiled, showing two rows of crooked teeth. His cheek was black and swollen from where I had smashed it with a rock.

  “I have eaten enough,” said Malak. “The blood root in my belly will last until we get home.”

  “Make sure that it does,” grunted Corm. “If that spirit raises a hand to me again, I’ll kill you.” He moved off with a sobbing Requel in tow.

  Malak slowed to a stop and waited until all the hunters had passed. Satisfied he was alone, he spoke to me at last. “Do you know
where you are, spirit?”

  My anger rose. I steeled my will and asserted myself to take his body. But I could not find purchase to take hold. Again I tried, it felt as if my grip slid from slick stone and fell uselessly away.

  What is happening to me? I cried.

  “I took my body back when you fell asleep in the cave,” said Malak, his tone smug. “You’ll not take it away from me again. The blood root keeps my mind weak and safe from you until Sheerak expels you from me. But before she does, I will watch your witch torn to pieces first.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Malak! I roared helplessly. You cannot do this! She is not a witch, you know this. Do not hurt her!

  “She is a witch!” he spat. “My dreams were true. You’re the one who speaks lies.”

  What of our bargain? I promised to grant you knowledge if you helped me. Would you throw that away?

  “I have listened to your words and they are meaningless to me. Keep your knowledge. I have no use for it.”

  I couldn’t get through to him. I tried in vain, and in many different ways, but he wouldn’t listen.

  Again I tried to claim his body but my will and thoughts were sluggish, as if I swam in a pool of deep and swirling water, the under currents pulling me down. My arms and legs felt exhausted and weak from treading water. Whatever this blood root was, it imprisoned me as surely as the strongest of chains. I railed against it, wrenching at it with all my might. It was useless. I was too weak and it was too strong. Helplessness and despair dragged me down like an anchor and I could not rise against it.

  How had it come to this?

  “You fell asleep,” said Malak triumphantly. “I am smarter than you, spirit. I was patient and did whatever you asked of me. I waited. And watched. That is why I beat you and that is why I am the greatest hunter in my village.”

  Fell asleep? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “After you fell asleep, I took my body back and returned to my village in the night. Sheerak gave me blood root. It kept you sleeping. I told Corm where to find the witch. I waited for them on the way back to my village. It pleased me that you woke up just in time to see our reunion.”

  I listened numbly. Why did you wait? Why didn’t you take control of your body back while I was unconscious in the pit?

  Malak scowled. “The witch hit me in the head. I woke up the same time as you. But she will suffer for hitting me. Wait and see.”

  The village broke into view. Crowds lined up to stare at Requel as she was half-dragged, half-prodded through the village center. My heart broke at the sight. Children threw stones at her. She flinched as rocks bounced off her back, her head.

  Stop this! I screamed. I’ll do anything. Just stop!

  “It will stop when she is dead.” He made his way towards Sheerak’s cave. Toluk fell in beside him.

  “I see you found the witch,” said Toluk, his eyes distrustful. “Or am I speaking to the spirit inside of you that Sheerak warned me of?”

  Malak grinned. “It is me, Toluk.”

  Toluk grinned back. “Where is the spirit now?”

  “On a leash. I have conquered it with blood root. Sheerak will expel it from me.”

  “Sheerak will give you a new name after this.”

  “I deserve no less. I like Spirit Walker. It suits me.”

  Toluk nodded. “It is a name of strength.”

  “It is a name of a chief. Come.”

  * * *

  I could only watch in mute horror. Laughter carried from the other side of the village and I imagined the atrocities being committed on Requel. I screamed my anguish, my rage, my despair and none but Malak could hear me. I felt his glee every time I gave voice to it. He reveled in it, in his power over me, and it was absolute. Never in all my existence had I felt such abject misery and utter weakness. I had but one option open to me – I could release myself from this body and return to the astral. But in so doing I would abandon Requel.

  That, I could never do.

  Sheerak sat on a mat before her cave entrance. A small boiling pot hung over flames beside her. She glanced up, her eyes squinting. Kinat sat on a log off to one side, scratching his bearded chin.

  “Did the blood root hold?” she asked.

  “It did,” said Malak, sitting on a mat before her. “And you were right, the spirit offered me much in trade for his release. I did not listen.”

  “Good. They always make promises they cannot keep, it is part of their power over you. Do you know what this is?” she said, pointing to the boiling pot.

  Malak shook his head. “It smells terrible.”

  “It will taste worse. I began to prepare it last night just after you came to me. Where is the blood root I gave you?”

  “Here,” he fished into his satchel and pulled out a dried mushroom and handed it to her.

  She eyed him warily. “You took more than I told you to.”

  Malak shrugged. “I did not want the spirit to return.”

  “If you had taken any more, it would have stopped your heart.”

  “Then it is good that I did not. What is next?”

  “You drink this brew. It contains medicines and herbs. It will cleanse your body and chase the spirit away.” She picked up the pot with a leather rag and poured it into a wooden bowl.

  Malak shook his head. “Not yet. I told the spirit I would make him watch his witch die first for what he did to me.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Malak,” snapped Sheerak. “I asked my spirits about the one inside of you. They know of him. They say he is an angry spirit and a powerful one. The sooner he is gone, the better it will be for all of us.”

  “He is a weakling. He will suffer.”

  “I am certain he will. But let it be in the knowledge that his witch will soon be torn apart. Even now they bend the saplings and tether them to the ground. Do you hear me, spirit? We will tie bent saplings to her arms, legs, and her head before we cut them loose. It will rip her apart. We will then burn the body parts. It is the only way to destroy a witch and her spirit.”

  No! I cried, scarcely believing what I heard. My anger exploded. I will not let that happen!

  Malak laughed abruptly. Sheerak raised an eyebrow. “Did the spirit hear me?”

  “He heard you, Sheerak. And he is very angry.”

  “Good,” she grunted. “Now drink.”

  “It will be as you say.” Malak picked up the steaming bowl and swirled it. It was dark, almost black, and coated the inside of the bowl in a thick glaze. He raised it to his lips, drank, then set it down. “How long will it take?”

  “Not long. Perhaps you should lie down away from the fire. This will not be pleasant.”

  Malak moved away and lay on his back. Abrupt pain spiked in his head. I felt it too. I recoiled from it. His body began to thrash, to convulse. Pain raked over me, and then began to push through me like a dull knife. It was too much. I wanted to leave, needed to leave.

  “Is the spirit gone yet?” I heard Toluk ask Sheerak dimly.

  “No, but soon. The pain will be too great. It will flee.”

  “Won’t Malak feel it too?”

  “Of course. The poison will tear through him. But the antidote will work quickly once given. I will need your help pouring it into his mouth. It’s in that jar over there. Have it ready.”

  “What if the spirit doesn’t leave him in time?”

  “Then Malak dies.”

  Anguish ripped through me. My silent screams were matched by Malak’s guttural cries. Our body flailed, arms and legs smashing the ground. My stomach burned, my heart felt as if it would burst. I had to exit the body before it was too late.

  Thoughts of Requel pushed through my agony. She needed me. How could I abandon her again?

  The answer was simple. I could not.

  Leave! shouted Malak.

  I refused. I fiercely clung on as if it were a stone in a raging sea.

  I felt his body failing. It would not last long now.

 
; Out! snarled Malak. Get out!

  No. If your body dies, I will die with it.

  But then a thought struck me, and the simple truth of it stunned me. It was something I should have known all along, should have never forgotten.

  I cannot die.

  I had associated myself too strongly with Malak’s body in this primordial world. The limitations, the weaknesses, the hardships of this plane – they swamped my reason and clouded my judgment. I forgot who I was, where I came from.

  I am not this body. This body was born and it will die. I am spirit and I will never die. I am a soul created in the image of God.

  I am Archangel.

  Laughter bubbled from my lips. I released the stone I clung too and let the raging sea take me.

  Malak’s body stopped convulsing. It lay there, panting, eyes glazed over and staring open.

  “Malak, is the spirit gone?” asked Sheerak.

  “No, I am not gone,” I answered with Malak’s voice. I raised my body to a sitting position then climbed to my feet.

  Toluk jumped back. Kinat, startled, raised his spear. Sheerak’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Malak?” she asked.

  “You killed him. Your poison worked well and he is gone. You sent his soul to the afterlife. I’m the only one here and I’m not done with his body yet.”

  “Impossible!” hissed Sheerak.

  “Very possible. You see, I had it all wrong,” I said, walking over and grabbing the jar of antidote from Toluk’s grip. I drank it down then wiped my mouth and tossed it away. “I thought I joined with Malak but I was mistaken. I can see that now. How can a sea join with a stream? No, he joined with me. I should have realized it then. I was never limited by his body as long as I realized who I was.”

  “Kill him!” shouted Sheerak.

  Kinat drove his spear at me. I raised my hand and caught it. Toluk pulled a knife from his belt and slashed at my stomach. I caught his wrist with my other hand.

  I leveled my gaze at Sheerak. “You once asked what kind of spirit I am. I am Archangel. Here, let me show you.”

  Lightning flashed down in a white hot streak. Kinat and Toluk exploded backwards, the ground glowing red. A deafening thunderclap shook the village. The air sizzled and the sharp stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. Sheerak scrambled away, her face ghostly pale.

 

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