Raven's Rise (World on Fire Book 3)

by Lincoln Cole

  Chapter 19

  Haatim felt considerably more refreshed when he woke up the next morning. This time, he’d dressed and stood ready to go before Savin managed to come up to his room. Instead, he met him downstairs in the lobby.

  The hotel served a continental breakfast with hardboiled eggs and toast, but Savin told him to skip it. Instead, he took him to another hole-in-the-wall restaurant for breakfast. They ordered soup, and it tasted delicious with leafy vegetables and huge chunks of ham. One of the best soups Haatim had ever had, and it surprised him to find out that it made for a regular breakfast item around the city.

  When talking with Savin, he learned that most locals ate all of their daily meals outside the home. The idea of a home-cooked meal seemed rare, and as such, numerous small restaurants sat on every street corner, served a single menu item, and only opened for one mealtime a day. It appeared a thriving business in the city; much more than he’d experienced in Arizona. People back home ate out a lot, but not nearly as much as here.

  They also, generally, ate the same food for each meal, something Haatim hadn’t experienced since growing up in India. In Arizona, he’d gotten introduced to a new culinary world where he could eat any number of different foods anytime he wanted, including dishes from just about every culture in the world that had gotten transformed into American cuisine.

  He loved that open-ended approach, but he also liked the idea of having a steady and consistent meal. It removed a lot of the guesswork and fretting about deciding what to eat and made it just a normal daily routine. It also went easier on the stomach and intestines.

  They got back to the market by around nine in the morning, doing their rounds and searching for Abigail. Savin took him to every location at which he’d seen Abigail and seemed to have an eidetic memory.

  Haatim also found out from speaking with him that Savin did this for a living. He watched tourists, and then helped people track them. He did this, he said, on behalf of governments, as a rule. For example, when known pedophiles hid out from charges in their home countries, he aided in their capture so that they could get extradited.

  He knew of twenty regulars who lived in his area of the city, as well as fourteen newcomers and tourists that hadn’t been here for more than a few days. Hell, he even knew the regular routines of each of these outsiders.

  Abigail’s schedule and routine had changed, Haatim discovered, when the other two men had shown up. The bald man and his friend had only arrived a couple of days ago, and almost always loitered at a high-traffic location, watching the passersby.

  Since they had turned up, Abigail had fallen off the grid, and Savin thought she might have shifted to another part of town that he didn’t frequent. Haatim hoped that didn’t turn out as the case. If she had left this part of town, then he would lose his only chance of finding her before the Church did.

  They stopped to get lunch a few hours later in one of the outdoor restaurants. He had a stew similar to the previous night, only this time a vegetarian one with a lot of chewy vegetables. Not nearly as tasty, it still didn’t seem bad.

  “Did you see her anywhere else before she disappeared?”

  “Outside the market,” Savin said.

  Haatim had tried to eat as fast as possible, but still, Savin had finished long before him. “Where?”

  Savin shrugged and pointed. “Over that way.”

  “What’s over there?”

  “Nothing,” Savin said. “It is near the elephant enclosure, and has a few shops and a Buddhist temple, but nothing else.”

  “What did she get closest to?”

  “The elephants,” Savin said. “And a church.”

  Haatim frowned. “A church?”

  “Yes.”

  “What denomination?”

  “Christian,” Savin said, making it clear he thought it a dumb question.

  “I mean, Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”

  Savin only stared at him. Father Paladina hadn’t told him anything about a Catholic Church in the area, but maybe he just hadn’t thought about it.

  “Who runs it?”

  “Matt Eicholt. He lives here. Not a tourist.”

  “Can you take me there?”

  “Yes,” Savin said. “Let’s go.”

  Just as they made to leave, Haatim received a call from Father Paladina. He answered, stepping away from Savin for privacy. “Hello?”

  “Haatim, you need to leave, now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I spoke to Frieda. Jill Reinfer is dead, but Nida didn’t go there like they anticipated.”

  “Where is she?”

  “We have no idea, but it is possible that she went to Cambodia. You must return to the airport and fly out.”

  “What about Abigail?”

  The priest stayed silent. “Our agents have reported in.”

  “Did they find her?”

  “Not yet, but they believe they know what she went after. A local, and they hope that tracking him will find her.”

  “Who?”

  “Haatim, just leave.”

  “You said he was a local? A Cambodian?”

  “No,” the priest said. “An expat.”

  “His name?”

  Father Paladina didn’t answer the question. “I’ve set up a flight for two hours away. I expect you to get on it.”

  “I shan’t leave.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll send agents to gather you, and then it will turn bad for both of us.”

  Haatim hesitated, and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll get on the flight. Two hours?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  Haatim hung up, and then turned back to Savin. “You said Matt Eicholt was an expat?”

  “A what?”

  “Not from around here,” Haatim said.

  “Yes. A white man.”

  What were the odds that Matt had become the Church’s target? Probably not great, but, for certain, not enormous with so few permanent outsiders.

  “Take me to that church.”

  Savin nodded and led him away from the restaurant. It proved a short walk to get to the church, which seemed little more than a little wooden building set on a street between a couple of shops.

  They passed one of the huge fences of an outdoor enclosure, and Haatim could see a group of enormous elephants inside. The fences ran right along the side of the road, which seemed strange to Haatim. It didn’t look like a zoo, just an enclosure with elephants and trees in the center of the city.

  The church appeared quiet and locked up when they arrived.

  “You’re sure you saw her near here a few days ago?”

  “Yes,” Savin said. “Matt will most likely have gone out to the market right now.”

  “Should we wait?”

  “We should go find him.”

  Haatim frowned. “What if he comes back? Matt might have seen Abigail and know where she went or what she’s doing here.”

  Savin shrugged. “You stay here. I will go find him and bring him back.”

  “All right.”

  Savin walked back toward town, leaving Haatim standing on the side of the road. Maybe Abigail had gone looking for Matt, especially if the Church had targeted him to track. Why, though? It didn’t make any sense for Abigail to go after him. Did they know each other? Old friends, perhaps? Or something else?

  Maybe old lovers?

  He pushed the thought away. Definitely not something that interested him in worrying about, and none of his business anyway. He bit back his jealousy and looked around the area.

  The market stood only a ways off, but this area didn’t have a lot of foot traffic. He glanced around but couldn’t see any good places to sit and wait.

  Instead, he’d do a circle around the block. If Abigail waited in this area and watched out for Matt, then he might spot her. He set off walking, and once he felt confident that no people came too near, he took off his scarf. It chafed his neck, and he liked to let the skin breath
e, but so far, anyone who had seen the scars on his neck had grown horrified at the marks.

  He stepped into an alley behind the church and rubbed at the tender flesh. It had healed quickly but still felt painful to the touch. It had also peeled, and he figured he would shed quite a bit before all got said and done.

  “Hello, Haatim.”

  The words froze him in place, hand on his neck, and a chill ran down his spine. The voice came from behind him, deeper in the alley, and he recognized it instantly. However, Abigail hadn’t addressed him.

  Nida had.

  ***

  He turned, slowly, spine tingling.

  Nida stood behind him in the mouth of the alley.

  She wore the same long clothing that the locals wore, plus a shawl to cover her head, which she had pulled aside.

  It chilled him more that she stood smiling at him.

  He might have thought her just another Cambodian woman in those clothes, except for her face, which looked scarred and torn and covered in pock marks and heat rashes. All of which made it almost impossible for him to make out his sister’s features.

  She looked wretched. The demon’s time spent inside of her had taken a serious toll, making her just about unrecognizable. She studied him with piercing eyes, standing calmly and watching him.

  He should run. Just sprint back to the street and keep going. This made for the precise confrontation that Father Paladina had worried about and prayed wouldn’t happen. Haatim found himself shaking in terror, his only option to try and get away.

  However, he didn’t run.

  “You aren’t Nida.”

  “No, not anymore,” the demon said, smiling. “Not anymore. But, I can access her memories, and I know everything she knew about you. Have you come here for me?”

  Haatim stayed silent.

  “No? I must admit, I feel a hint of jealousy. But, if you didn’t come here for me, why did you come?”

  He tried to find an answer, but facing off with his sister took away his ability to think straight.

  She studied him for a second, and then smiled. “My shadow,” she said. “You came here for Abigail.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Around. We’ve played something of a cat-and-mouse game, but sadly, our game draws to an end. I came here for business.”

  “What business?”

  “None of your concern.”

  His hands shook. The demonic presence inside his sister’s body felt strong, like with the other demon in the Vatican basement, but this one seemed different. More tangible, more real, less in control. When he reached out for it mentally, it felt like touching a powder keg.

  The demon seemed to sense him, too, and her eyes fluttered for a second in surprise. “Ah, Haatim, you are so much more special than I anticipated. You will prove tremendously useful to me in the future.”

  “I could send you back to hell.”

  “You’re welcome to try.”

  Haatim hesitated. He wanted to reach out like he had before, but something about the situation told him it would prove a bad idea. This felt anything but the same thing he’d experienced before, and he knew in only seconds that he hadn’t readied enough for something like that.

  Instead, he decided to appeal to his sister. She had strength enough to push out the demon if she only knew she could.

  “Nida,” he said. “Please. Nida, I know you’re in there.”

  “Nida has gone. Just us chickens, Haatim.”

  “No, I refuse to believe that.” He took a step back toward the mouth of the alley. “Nida, please. If you can hear me, give me some sign. Fight back. Take control.”

  The demon laughed, pursuing him slowly. “Ah, foolish and ignorant man, always clinging to your silly optimism. Your sister died. She served her purpose, and now she just gives rags for me to wear. Just like your father. So much meat and gristle.”

  Haatim hesitated. “What?”

  “You didn’t know? Your father is dead, murdered by the Church.”

  Haatim felt a burst of confusion and pain as he took another step back. “What?”

  “They didn’t tell you?”

  “You lie.”

  “You know otherwise. They found your father in Switzerland and butchered him like an animal. All in the name of the Church. After what he did, can you blame them? I’m sure you would have killed him, too.”

  Haatim pushed away what she said as best he could, trying to focus on events in the here and now, but part of him still attempted to reconcile the thought that his father had died.

  True? Could it be so? Had the Church hunted his father down after what happened at the Council?

  He had seen him get off the helicopter and go into the hospital in Switzerland but hadn’t tried reaching out to him since. Still, even then, he knew that Frieda would keep him safe.

  Wouldn’t she?

  Maybe the demon had told the truth. It also remained equally possible that the demon had lied to him, trying to get under his skin, but that reassurance didn’t give him enough to dispel the concern completely. He couldn’t help but worry that, maybe, the Church did kill his father and had withheld the information from him.

  Which, he knew, brought him to just what the demon wanted him to worry about. Whether or not it proved true, it didn’t matter. The demon wanted him distracted and weak. But, no, he wouldn’t give the beast that opportunity. He could worry about his father later.

  “Nida, don’t give up.”

  He closed his eyes and focused, trying his best to remember the sensation that had overcome him in the basement with the demon. He had reached out, not physically but emotionally and mentally, toward the demon. Though barely conscious when it had happened, he did remember the sensation. He tried his best to recreate that moment.

  With a steadying breath, he grabbed the demon mentally and started to crush it the same way he had the creature he’d faced in the Vatican basement.

  Within seconds, it became clear that he had made a grievous error.

  The essence of the demon compressed when he squeezed it, but the sensation got almost immediately replaced with something else, something akin to rage. Not an emotion but rather felt like a tangible object. It felt odd, at first, and difficult to understand.

  Then the demon lashed back, attacking him. It came like a mental blow that staggered him and blasted him away, and it landed with such force that it wrecked his concentration. Dazed and disoriented, it felt like he went out of his body. However, he could sense his body and its safety nearby, and so he moved toward it.

  The demon got to him first. Its presence surrounded him and clung.

  It constricted to crush him.

  Haatim felt shock, first, but a pure and primal terror unlike anything he’d ever felt before soon replaced it. The demon didn’t just want to kill him, it also prepared to snuff him out of existence. It attacked his psyche and toyed with his soul like a dog might a bone.

  He tried to break free. However, the creature had complete dominance over him. He couldn’t touch it at all, and it could do anything it wanted to him. If it so chose, it could destroy him and abolish his entire identity out of existence.

  But, the worst thing—he realized in those seconds—it had tricked him. It couldn’t create this connection to his soul and get him out of his body. Only he could do that through his special gifts. Had Father Paladina felt afraid of just such an occurrence?

  The idea that the demon could crush his soul and snuff him out of existence seemed bad enough, but the idea that he had created the bridge for it to do so felt even worse. It hit him as so much more terrifying than what Father Paladina had warned him about.

  Haatim collapsed to his knees and fought back with desperation. The world flitted in and out of existence while the demon attacked his soul. He pushed it back, tried to force it away and get back into his body, but he might as well have attempted to lift a collapsing building with his bare hands.

  The demon used him like a plaything, and he
could feel its amusement. Time ceased to exist while the demon pummeled him mentally, and his mind stopped answering to his commands. He couldn’t do anything except thrash around in this outside state and try to regain some semblance of control, but his struggle proved futile.

  Madness crept in. A sure and clear understanding that if the demon continued this for much longer, he would lose himself. The demon wouldn’t even need to destroy him, it simply needed to leave him in this state of brokenness for a while longer, and he would destroy himself.

  “You thought you could come here and challenge me?” the demon asked. “But you are just a weak and pathetic little boy. You are nothing, and you have nothing. You, Haatim Arison, are worthy of nothing.”

  The words struck him to his core.

  The demon slipped off him, releasing him. He felt confused and disoriented. Though he could sense his body nearby, Haatim didn’t have the strength to go toward it. Broken and weak, the end had come.

  He would die here, alone in the alleyway.

  He would watch himself expire.

  He had completely and utterly failed.

  The worst possible situation to find himself in.

  If he could get to his body, he would find safety, but it might as well have lain a million kilometers away instead of a few meters.

  He glanced to the side.

  Nida walked up next to him, and then knelt and put her mouth close to his ear. “I’ll come back for you, dear brother,” she whispered. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Chapter 20

  As soon as Matt Eicholt stepped inside his quiet little church in the center of Phnom Penh, something felt terribly wrong. The lights remained off, just as he expected, but he could feel the presence of someone else hiding in the room.

  The mere fact that they hid from him filled him with concern. He couldn’t see anyone but could tell they hid there.

  “Hello?” he called out in Khmer. “Who’s there?”

  No response. He tried English as well, but still, no answer came. Probably kids hiding away from their mothers. He’d experienced situations like this many times in the past, finding children avoiding their schoolwork or chores, though not usually this late in the day.