The stone and the power of the prince who laid claim to it bided all time in anticipation of the moment when the truth could finally be revealed. Before the seafarers, before the Alexander, before currents and the vicissitudes of time cut off the Bloodstone from its true host, while Qiel lay in stasis under the oceans, the stone wormed its way deep inside his heart, deep inside his mind. There it pricked his conscience, there it had begun the bloodletting, and there it had bonded with Qiel’s very blood.
“It’s in your blood, Derackson.” A laugh resounded, but he couldn’t tell if it was in his head or if it was not. “It’s in my blood.” Qiel—the only Seer bound by blood to the Bloodstone.
Calm washed over him. When he opened his eyes, the lights in the auditorium flickered on, illuminating the room. Demon Brothers and men scrambled to bow to him, muttering their prayers. Qiel looked down to see that his shirt had become torn and filthy. It hung over his body like a rag. He tore it off and gloried at how his skin glowed with youthful vibrancy once more. Muscles rippled under the skin of his arms. The power surging through him from the deep brought a smile to his lips.
“Qiel.” A small voice called to him.
He turned to behold his mother. She was standing before him with flickers of hope and confusion running across her features. “Mother.” Qiel betrayed no emotion.
He watched as tears streamed down her face. The witnesses parted and she walked on unsteady feet toward him. “I thought you were . . . I thought . . . my son…” She reached to embrace him, and he opened his arms. She sobbed into his neck, tears trickling down his chest.
In one swift move, Qiel pushed Uriel away and yanked the sword from its sheath that hung at her hip. “I do hope you are ready to die,” he said, and without hesitation stabbed the bloody blade deep into her belly. “Ah. There it is. The Mark.” He worked the blade in deeper, drawing up.
Blood poured out like water as she fell to her knees. Her mouth swung wide and empty. Qiel didn’t wait for her to find any more words. He heaved the blade free and swung it, decapitating her with her own sword.
A roar ensued and the building shook again, the demons swarming over its skin and fouling the air, beating their chests and issuing their war cry.
“Her debt is now paid. She will not betray again.”
Another ground-shaking roar.
“Brothers, the time has come. We now rid the world of the weak. Those who belong to El.” He called forth the great deeps. He would finish with Airel. She was the daughter he never wanted to have, the offspring who never was, the one person who should never have been born.
CHAPTER XI
CREATURES EMERGED FROM THE ocean that now covered the ground below. Skyscrapers leaned and toppled over, and demons attacked the city and its inhabitants with a newfound fury. Like a beacon in the gathering storm, the silver tower gleamed in the setting sun.
There were now many angels flying into the melee. Some of them picked off hundreds of dark warriors, drawing them out away from the tower. Others plunged straight into the darkness. Most of those did not come back out again.
Come on, girlie. Master your fears.
I flew straight down into a thick cloud of demons and hacked a dozen of them in half before anyone of them noticed I was even there.
As I circled back around, though, I had their attention. They converged on me. The beauty of being small and fighting an enemy that’s bigger and strong in numbers is that it’s hard to miss your opponent.
Light pouring from the Sword of Light blinded my foes. I dodged a huge paw and severed a head from its owner. I could feel my heart begin to open, to let go, but something still hid there. I wanted to let it all out, to be free at last, to allow El to work through me unhindered.
Why do I still hold back?
Something swatted me. I tumbled end over end and the wind left my lungs. I righted myself and crossed swords with a slender red devil. I made him follow me, dropping like a stone from the sky. I turned, rolled, and looped back, buzzing close, dragging my Sword through his belly. He disintegrated into ash. I cut the wings from two others on my way up, breaking free above the battle.
Howls echoed below, darkness crawled toward me, crackling like a thunderstorm. I could feel the power building inside me as I circled the raging storm of the Brotherhood. They flew in circles trying to keep up, but soon they retreated to a hover as I flew, enclosing a few thousand inside the globe of my light trail.
Time to see what I can do when I let go.
I coasted to a stall and turned toward my prey, hovering. Both hands on the Sword, I leveled it at them and, breathing out, finally gave myself over completely to the will of El. An explosion of light erupted through the odd-shaped hole in the hilt of the Sword. I didn’t know at first whether it had come from the Sword or not. But as I looked down, I found my heart glowing in electric blue in the cooling power of the aftereffects. Thousands of demons instantly turned to ash. My power and energy doubled with the discharge. “You are drawing energy from them through the Sword,” She said. “The more you kill, the stronger you will become.”
Maybe that’s the function of the hole in the Sword . . .
But my small victory was short-lived.
A huge winged demon broke free from the swarm around the tall silver tower. Its wings spanned the late-evening sky, dwarfing the other demons. Fear tried to rake my mind, but I would not allow myself to be ruled by it.
Thick fangs protruded from its lower lip like spears sticking out of the ground. Two horns curved from the side of its head, their sharpened tips pointing upward. Scales lined its body, a hard armor covering.
I dodged low and it roared as it flew over me. The lesser demons scattered to get out of the way of the great beast. It grabbed one in its long-fingered clutches and tossed it into its maw. It was but a snack.
It came circling back around.
I reached for Michael but couldn’t sense him anywhere. He has to be inside the tower. That’s where the Seer would be. But before I could go investigate for myself, I had to take care of my outdoors business.
The house-sized demon beat its wings, coming closer. It would be a tough one to defeat—my mind raced. As much as I hated the idea that came to my mind, it was the best I could do. The closer I am to that thing, the safer I’ll be.
I sighed again, grossed out. “All right, let’s get this over with.” The mouth of the thing was ten feet wide—difficult to miss. I launched myself right into it.
* * *
QIEL, EXULTANT, STOOD OVER the lifeless body of his mother, Uriel.
Michael Alexander came running from the cowardly shadows to sob upon her corpse.
Qiel was past regret. He held the Bloodstone in his hand as the Brotherhood generals robed his body in pure white silk. Pulling the hood over his head, he turned to them. “The half-breed Airel is here, and Kreios is coming. Make ready.”
The generals agreed with bows and hushes of praise.
He turned to Michael Alexander. “As for you, boy, this is sedition. Why should I allow you to live?” Qiel crouched and peered into the young man’s raw eyes. “No. I shall keep you alive. Kreios and Airel may hold still long enough for me to be able to kill them if they believe you still draw breath.” Michael pulled himself up and stood over him. He might have said something, but Qiel flicked the air between them and Michael flew across the room, slamming against the wall and crumpling to the floor, motionless.
Qiel stood and straightened his robes, addressing the generals once more. “Bring me Airel. Alive.”
They left carrying the unconscious Michael Alexander with them.
The two anticherubim were the last to be dealt with. They stood over the remains of the body of Jiki, twitching. Qiel read their fear like a cheap book. They had no secure ground on which to stand.
Qiel now knew everything the Bloodstone knew. “Have you word of the Tree? Is it secured?”
“Our sister has not reported to us any change. We know of neither victory nor
defeat, master.”
“No word is defeat. Victory is the quickest word there is. One never is slow to brag of success.” The anticherubim had backed the wrong horse. “What’s to be done with you, my pretties? My traitorous pretty pets?” Qiel ground his teeth in a towering rage. Without gesture or further thought, he said, “Die.” So they died at a word, and he reveled in the stench they left behind. There was nothing else left of them.
It is all clear now. I am Seer. Qiel had never abdicated in the first place. He had merely forgotten the truth. Red darkness filtered through the room. His horde grew thicker on the building, all converging on this place. He would begin his command here, where the earth was thinnest. From here, he could go in between realities at will. Even now, the room, the building, and the earth below flickered like a hot road in mid-summer.
CHAPTER XII
I WAS DEEP IN the belly of the beast. Once I finally landed on the bottom of its horrible-smelling stomach, I went to work. Riverso Tondo, a horizontal strike from left to right. The sword cut clean and without effort as I spun through a full 360 degrees, slicing the stomach in half.
Since the thing was so huge, I hadn’t done much damage beyond, well, cutting the stomach in half. And then really pissing it off. It must have then twisted itself over because my world went berserk, pitching and rolling wildly.
I tried to get some footing or leverage inside, but the relative isolation of an intact stomach had given way to a flood of viscera and blood crowding in on me from all sides, and I couldn’t breathe. I’ve had about enough of this. I crouched down and held the sword straight out. Giocco Stretto.
I summoned all my strength and then launched, Sword first, thinking of maximum speed and power. The force of my efforts not only sliced the beast through, but because of the blast of my light trail, also tore it asunder behind me.
Emerging into clean air upside down at—it took my eyes a moment to calculate—9,800 feet.
The great demon stopped flapping its wings and groaned as it turned to ash. It rained down like black snow.
Hovering, soaked in blood and guts, the pure blue light that now resided in my heart glowed outward from me against a darkening sky. I huffed a lock of hair out of my face. Well, it’s been worse, hasn’t it?
I assessed the state of the battle. Straight below me was the tower. There was a new threat—the biggest demon I had ever seen.
Within the sweep of its wings, there were whole battalions of the enemy horde flying escort. It belched miles of scorching crystalline fire from its mouth, and wherever the clear flames licked, all life was desiccated.
This could only be the Devourer.
It was coming right at me. Still a few miles off, it released another burst of fire. The flames, which looked more like ripples of intense heat because they lacked all color, didn’t quite reach me where I flew, but I could feel the sucking heat and I wasn’t going to hang around until I got burned.
Taking off, I burst immediately to 500 miles per hour. Most of the guts came off me in the wind.
I looked behind me. With one sweep of its wings, the Devourer had halved the distance between us. Its mouth was opening.
I broke left, circling around the tower.
It followed instantly, loosing another barrage.
I dove for the ground and spun around, sword in the Guardia Seconda, angled up and to the left, the flat toward the blast so it could be deflected away from me.
It worked. I broke hard left again, buzzing around the tower like a fly being chased by a hungry bird.
The dragon gave chase, but it wasn’t quite as agile as I was, nor as fast. I poured on the speed and circled around to attack it from behind.
It happened in the space of less than two seconds, but time slowed for me as I hacked my way through the lesser demons in the dragon’s train. These were hangers-on, like pilot fish attending the shark, and they were quick work. Stocatta, Imbrocatta, Punta Riversi. And then Fendente as I brought the sword down along my own axis, hacking a devil in two from skull to pelvis.
I let fly my battle cry. It was like the shriek of an eagle. I was now chasing the Devourer—its tail was right over my head. I held the sword high and poured on more speed. The blade penetrated deep into its belly, cutting easily from the hindquarters to the ribs, its work like a heavenly rebuke. There was retribution interwoven in this blow, and I was reminded whose sword I wielded.
The beast reacted violently, moving into a displacement roll. With the tower to our left, it broke upward and to the right to get away from me. It barrel rolled, looped, and then banked back toward the tower in an effort to regain the advantage of pure pursuit.
But it was too late. Its wounds were too serious. Whatever its anatomical construction, something had come loose internally, and the fantastic heat and fire it was able to generate as its primary weapon now turned against it.
It caught fire, starting at the cut the sword had made in its gullet. Now completely out of control, it swooped numb and mostly dead directly toward the upper third of the tower.
CHAPTER XIII
MICHAEL WOKE WITH A killer headache.
But he was alone in an empty room, and when he looked around, he found that the door had been left open.
He knew his only chance was to run, to get out of there and hope Airel didn’t come within a thousand miles of this area. His heart was that of a 12th round heavyweight fighter. All he wanted was to have a spare moment to cry for Ellie, to weep for the loss of Airel’s father. There were fates worse than death, and being the Seer of the Brotherhood was at the top of that list.
Flexing his toes and fingers to be sure everything still worked, he struggled to his feet and crept to the door. He slipped into a painful run in the hallway. Through the tears that streamed down his face, he saw a bank of elevators. He pushed the DOWN button over and over again.
After a lifetime, the elevator “bong” went off. It was here.
The doors slid open too slowly. Still no one in the hallways. It was now or never. Michael practically leaped into the elevator and the beckoning safety of its capsule.
He pressed the button for the ground floor. It was time to get out of here. The excruciating second or two that elapsed in the interim between his floor selection and the eventual closing of the doors, he could hear the creature’s growl rising in pitch and volume. It stood every hair of his body on end.
Somethings coming. The doors slid shut.
* * *
I COASTED TO A higher altitude as I watched the airborne remains of the Devourer collide with the tower. The explosion was immense, and it shook the structure to its core. Clear fire issued forth in fountains like water, erasing everything in its path, dissolving and blackening the things on which it landed like sulfuric acid, turning them to wrung-out charcoal.
The carcass had impacted the tower at its upper reaches, just below the spire. The collision split the creature in half along the cut I had made. The effect was akin to watching a stream pour around a stone deeply embedded in the ground. On the opposite side of the impact, there would be much destruction once the beast and the pieces of its unique chemical weapon finally touched down 150 stories below.
Higher up, where it had struck the building, I watched the spire sway under its own weight.
* * *
AS SOON AS THE doors closed, Michael felt everything explode. The building shook. The whole building, Michael thought. God help me.
Everything was very hot suddenly, and smoke was pouring downward through the gap in the doors. He had been thrown down onto the floor of the elevator, and he could feel it bounce on its cables. Now more than ever, he was acutely aware of the sheer height of his position. The meaning of the 150th floor was driven into his understanding like a 16d nail.
Then something dripped onto the floor of the elevator car, splattering and hissing. A drop flecked onto the skin of his forearm, and it stung bad. He swiped at it, making the pain worse. He looked up.
Something was drippi
ng from the corner of the stainless-steel trim overhead. He made up his mind instantly that the elevator had outlived its usefulness. He resolved to get out of it.
He put his fingers in the seam between the doors and pulled. Something overhead groaned moving the elevator downward—he could see the floor of the lobby outside rise by a foot or more.
He pulled on the doors harder. He could now just barely fit through their width if he went one shoulder at a time.
More groaning—it sounded like the whole building was coming down around him. The lobby floor rose again, this time by three feet. His window of escape was now about twelve inches wide by twenty-four inches tall. He groaned one arm and shoulder out, his elbow cocked like a wing against the lobby floor, now at chest height, the fingers of his other hand hooked onto the piece of floor trim that, only a few seconds ago, he had walked right over as he’d gotten into this death trap.
The foremost fear in his mind was that he would get partway out only to be sliced in half by an elevator in sudden freefall. But there were worse ways to die. He knew that much from experience, especially lately.
He pushed off the floor and pulled himself upward and out, like getting out of a pool without a ladder.
He landed in the lobby, and just as he did, the elevator let go, taking one of his shoes with it. The tug of war hurt badly, and as he backed away from the edge it occurred to him that his ankle might now be sprained, if not broken.
He looked around in a panic. Was this the same place? Everything was different now, destroyed. The lights were out. Auxiliary lighting had come on, casting evil shadows. There were red letters on exit signs, emergency beacons were sounding off, and a few fire sprinklers above his head were spewing water. Everything was filthy—adding water to it just made thin mud. He leaned up against the opposite wall and tried to breathe, getting soaked.
Then it occurred to him: What is chasing me?
The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance Page 88
