by James Wisher
Gabriel scrambled to his feet, gasping for air, he saw his sword lying twenty feet to his right beside the roots of the giant oak. Before he could move the demon leapt between him and the sword. The demon’s hands burst into flame. Now you burn, human.
Frantic, Gabriel reached in vain for his sword. The Bright Sword responded to his need, appearing in his hand before the stream of fire erupted toward him like an erupting volcano. White light burst from the blade, swallowing every drop of fire the raging demon poured forth.
Gabriel clambered to his feet, shaking off the effects of the fall. For all its earlier arrogance the monster now circled him, claws extended. It was wary, respecting Gabriel’s power. If possible, it was now more dangerous. The demon charged again, it was so fast. Its shoulder hit Gabriel, sending him flying again. This time he retained both his sword and his wits. Instead of continuing its attack the creature lunged for the chest. Gabriel pointed his sword at it and a bubble of white energy surrounded the chest. The demon snatched its hand as if burned. It arched its back and screamed to the heavens.
Gabriel staggered back to his feet and waved at the demon, daring it to attack again. It obliged, claws leading. Instead of trying to block Gabriel used his brother’s trick, dropping to his knees and letting the demon pass over his head. As it passed he slashed across the back of its knees, sending the beast to the ground. Before it could recover Gabriel leapt to his feet and drove the Bright Sword through the monster’s chest. It roared, spraying fire in all directions. Gabriel held on, twisting the sword, gouging out an ever widening hole. At last the demon fell silent and stopped moving. The massive black form dissolved into a stinking gray sludge.
He pulled his sword free and stumbled away gagging from a stench that combined stagnant water and rotten eggs. He checked the sword for damage, but he needn’t have bothered. As though denying the monster existence, the Bright Sword gleamed as flawless as the first day he saw it on the church altar.
The bubble of white light disappeared from around the chest when Gabriel bent down to retrieve it. He tucked it under his arm, sheathed his sword and made his way back to his horse. When he got close she snorted and shook her head. “I hear you, girl.” He patted her neck and she calmed. “Ready to go home?”
The mare tossed her head and he smiled. “Me too.”
He guided her back to the road, it was late afternoon and he could hardly keep his eyes open. Exhausted and exhilarated, at last he’d brought justice to the monster that killed his family. After four years they could rest in peace.
He must have dozed off since the next thing he knew it was dark and the city walls were looming before him. Gabriel gathered the reins and urged his horse toward the church. He’d be damned if he would keep that cursed chest with him a moment longer than necessary.
Lights burned in the chapel and when Gabriel staggered to the door Solan meet him. Without a word he pressed the chest into Solan’s hands. The priest grasped it like a drowning man thrown a life preserver.
He ushered Gabriel into the church and helped him to sit on the nearest bench. Solan sat beside him, smiling. “Well done, my boy. Tell me everything.”
Gabriel started but a yawn followed every other word. Solan held up a hand and laughed. “It will keep until tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep.”
He needed no urging. Gabriel got to his feet and staggered to the door. He reached for the handle but Solan laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget to bare your sword’s blade before you sleep. After today you will be in even greater danger.”
Gabriel managed a grunt of understanding and left the church. The ride home was a blur, the horse had more to do with them getting back to the mansion than he did. A groom came running out of the stables as they approached.
“His lordship said you’d be getting home late,” the groom said.
“Thanks,” Gabriel said as the groom led his horse away. He went in and straight to his room. He closed the bedroom door and touched his glowstone. A grim man in a black leather half mask stepped out of the darkness, a cloak like living shadows swirled around him.
A blast of adrenaline drove the exhaustion from Gabriel. He drew his sword and leveled it at the intruder. Confronted with a sword in his face the man laughed, a harsher, more humorless sound Gabriel had never heard.
“That’s hardly the greeting I expected after so long, Gabriel.”
“It seems you have me at a disadvantage, sir.” Gabriel prodded his exhausted brain; surely he wouldn’t have forgotten someone so distinctive.
“Come now, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your little brother.”
“Xander?” Gabriel gaped, the Bright Sword dipping in his hand. Could it be?
“Very good, Gabriel. Did you miss me?”
“Xander. How?”
“Now that’s a long story.”
About the Author
James E. Wisher is a writer of science fiction and fantasy novels. He’s been writing since high school and reading everything he could get his hands on for as long as he can remember. This is his third novel.
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Also by James E. Wisher
Death and Honor Book 2 of 2
The Squire
Children of Darkness
Children of the Void
Children of Junk
