“How do we fight this?” Dana said.
“It’s obvious.” Marcus rubbed the end of his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Truth must prevail. He believes the lie. He’s accepted it so we must war against it.”
Dana knelt in front of the mist—now almost black—and spoke with more power than Brandon had ever heard from her. “We come against the lie that Reece Roth killed his daughter. That he killed his wife. By the blood of Jesus and the power of his crucifixion, the power of his resurrection and the power of his ascension, we break that agreement, we break its oppression, we break any power it holds over Reece.”
Blazing sparks of light appeared over the cloud, swirling like a gyroscope. Then they dropped like bullets into the black-red mist, which turned to red to pink to yellow to a flash of brilliance so bright Brandon covered his eyes.
When he opened them the flower was gone, the ground charred in the spot from which it grew. Reece was up—on his knees—gasping for air. A few seconds later his breathing slowed and he glanced at the sun, then turned his squinting eyes to where they stood.
Confusion was carved into his face and he frowned as he studied each of them. Reece put his head down and pawed at the grass and sand as if to dig a trench to hide in, then stopped and stared up at them again.
“I need to sleep. What do you want? Who are you?”
Dana stepped forward, her gaze locked on Reece. It was a lie. She felt it in her spirit. He knew exactly who they were but the enemy had him wrapped in deception. Bring truth, Lord.
There! A shimmer of light. For a flash she saw the true Reece under the muddled countenance in front of them. She took another step forward. “You’re one of us. We are the Warriors Riding. And the four of us are one in Christ Jesus. His power and Spirit live in your heart.”
“I met you in a dream, yes?” Reece sat back and wrapped his arms around his knees.
Good. The lie was cracking. “No. In life. We are your intimate allies.” She turned to the others. “Pray.”
As Marcus and Brandon prayed silently, she held out her hand. “Come out, Reece. Breathe the air of freedom.”
Another flash of the real Reece, then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I don’t know you. And I killed them.” He got to his knees and stared at the black circle in the ground where the flower had grown from. “I have to go back.”
A green shoot seeped out of the ground and snaked toward Reece, waving in the velvety island breeze. Reece reached out trembling fingers to touch the flower but before he could, a ball of fire slammed into the flower and consumed it in an instant.
Reece fell back and slumped to the ground, the light from the fireball swirling around him for a moment before fading into the sky. Surprise filled the professor’s face as he spun toward Brandon. “Where did you learn that?”
“Inside your soul, bro.” Brandon winked. “I’ll teach you how someday.”
Dana knelt in front of Reece and took his hands. His eyes were clear. The fire had worked. At least for a moment. “Reece, are you with us?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Dana.”
“Are you all right?”
“No.” Reece shuddered. “I can feel the pull of the poison even now.” Sweat dripped down his forehead and his hands shook. “I don’t know how to hold out.”
“Ideas?” She turned to Marcus and Brandon but did not let go of Reece’s hands. “Quick.”
“Yes.” Marcus squatted beside her as Brandon did the same. “The student must instruct the master.”
She instantly knew what the professor meant and jerked on Reece’s hands. “Look at me, Reece. Now!”
The big man’s head weaved but he didn’t break eye contact.
“You must repent and turn. You’ve embraced the lie. You must change your thinking. What is the truth?”
Reece’s lips quivered and beads of perspiration dropped from his graying eyebrows. “The truth is . . . that I . . . I killed—”
“No! What is the truth?”
He stared at her, a war raging in his eyes, their color shifting from blue to black back to blue. Ages later Reece grasped her hands and his words sputtered out one at a time as if weights were on his lips. “He. Has. Forgiven. Me.”
“What is the truth? Again!” Marcus and Brandon rocked forward onto their knees on either side of her and each grabbed one of Reece’s arms.
“I am forgiven.” Reece blinked.
She whispered the words, “Once more.”
“I am forgiven.” His hands went limp and the last hint of darkness vanished from his eyes.
Reece’s head fell back and Dana released his hands. He raised his arms to the sky and shouted the words, “I am forgiven.”
As the words echoed through Reece’s soul he brought his head forward and stared at them. The brilliance of his blue eyes was mesmerizing. Dana smiled and looked at Marcus and Brandon, who returned her grin. They’d done it.
“I’m free.” Reece glanced at each of them. “I’m finally free.” He leaned back and laughter—deep, from-the-gut laughter—poured out of him. “You came for me. And you set me free.”
“It’s over,” Brandon said, a smile continuing to light up his face.
“I’m sorry, my dear friends.” Reece’s smile vanished and he shook his head. “Even though I most certainly would have given my permission to enter if you had asked, the fact remains that I didn’t give it. Consequently, I don’t believe this battle is yet finished.”
FIFTY-ONE
THE MOMENT THE LAST OF REECE’S WORDS ESCAPED HIS mouth, the sea around them vanished. in its place appeared hills of rock and sand that rose on every side. They were in a bowl the size of a small arena and heat radiated off the sand as if they stood in an oven cranked up to 450.
A hard wind blew from behind and peppered the back of Brandon’s neck. The sky in the distance swirled and dark gray clouds streaked toward them. The smell of strong ammonia assaulted his nose. As he stared at the horizon where the hill met the sky, the air shimmered and eight men appeared on the ridge. He glanced behind them to the ridge on the other side of the bowl. Five more. All held swords.
“Steady, friends.” reece’s strong voice rang out over the shriek of the wind. “look in your hands.”
Brandon stared at the sword that had appeared in his hand and glanced at the ones now in the hands of Dana, marcus, and Reece.
“You can leave, you know,” Reece said. “This isn’t your battle.”
Brandon wasn’t going anywhere. He knew Marcus and Dana wouldn’t be either. “We’re staying.”
The men on the hills above them sprinted down the slope, dirt and sand spraying up behind them like a curtain.
“Form a circle, backs to each other. Stay together. Don’t let them separate you.” reece shouted instructions as the men rushed toward them. “Their greatest weapon is fear—and we have nothing to fear. God is for us. Our lives are in his hands.”
Grins burst out on their attackers’ faces and Brandon shivered—an icy blast cut through his skin and raced through his body as if trying to penetrate his mind. He staggered and dug his feet into the ground. “I don’t know how to use a sword, Reece!”
Reece shouted back against the wind, “You do, Brandon! Fight with the sword of the Spirit. It’s not you alone wielding that sword; it’s you and the Spirit of power.”
Brandon’s mind went blank. Sword of the Spirit? The men racing down the slope were only twenty yards away. It hit him when one of the demons was five feet from him, his dark blade lifted high above his head, ready to flash down like lightning into Brandon’s neck.
God’s words. His truth. So razor sharp it could separate soul and spirit. Brandon braced himself and shouted into the screaming wind, “’In My name they will cast out demons.’ He gave his own the power and authority over all demons. No weapon formed against us will prevail. Jesus, come!”
As the words erupted out of his mouth, Brandon
raised his sword and it sliced through the air, parrying the sword of the demon in front of him. The demon roared, its hot breath scalding Brandon’s face. Another flash of the demon’s sword. Another parry, the clash of metal ringing through the air and joining the sound of the others’ as they each battled their own demon.
Another attack came from the demon in front of him, this time at Brandon’s legs. As he jumped he thrust his sword into the demon’s exposed chest. The demon’s eyes widened, then narrowed as Brandon thrust the sword deeper.
As the demon crumpled to the ground, Brandon shouted, “’Through You we will push back our adversaries; through Your name we will trample down those who rise up against us. For You have guided me with strength for battle; You have subdued under me those who rose up against me.’”
Brandon held up his sword and lasered his eyes on another demon five yards in front of him. This one didn’t charge but sidestepped to his left, his gaze riveted on Brandon, a thin smile at the corner of his mouth.
Worthless. That is your true name. You know this to be true. No psychobabble pack of lies from your guru and others is ever going to change that.
The thought smashed into Brandon’s mind and he gasped. Then an image of his stepmom screaming at him flashed through his brain and his grip on his sword loosened.
Yes. Embrace the truth. You are nothing. Worthless.
The demon continued to circle, the radius growing tighter.
And you can pretend you’ve come back to God, but it’s only emotions. The truth is, the only thing you care about is Brandon Scott. The vine of praise has taken root in you and is growing. And you like it. Confess the truth and this battle will end. You will save your friends. You will save yourself.
Brandon sank to his knees. “No.”
Yes, surrender and save them. It’s your only hope.
Brandon’s breaths grew shallow. The demon closed his circle tighter.
Save them, Brandon.
The sword slipped from his hand and thumped into the sand and time slowed. The demon leapt forward and its sword flashed toward him. No chance to move. But as it streaked to Brandon’s throat a blade flashed out of the corner of his eye to block the strike. The demon’s steel glanced off the other blade but it wasn’t enough.
It tore through Brandon’s shirt at his shoulder, slicing through his skin. “Arrrgh!”
Then a cry above him and a piercing scream from the demon that had almost ended his life. Brandon staggered to his feet. The professor stood in front of him holding Brandon’s sword, but he was staring at something to the right. Brandon turned. Three more demons twenty yards away warily approached, spreading out on their left and right. Brandon held out his hand for his sword, but Marcus didn’t give it to him.
“I think now would be an excellent time to give me back my sword.”
“You don’t need it.”
“Are you crazy?”
“It’s time to live from your strength, to fight from your glory, to battle from the core of your gifting.”
Brandon glanced at the demons, now fifteen yards away, then stepped toward Marcus. “No, I need my sword.”
“You wield the sword well, but you wield something else with even more power.” The professor pointed at Brandon’s mouth. “You are the song. Step into it now without holding back, with all faith in the Spirit.”
An image of himself singing on top of a snow-covered peak as a morning sun crested a far range of mountains flashed into his mind, then vanished. Yes. Brandon blinked and leveled his gaze on the demons. He opened his mouth and a song poured out he’d never heard. The sound of it thundered throughout the battleground and grew still louder—the melody soaring to the sky and shaking the ground.
As he continued to sing, Brandon advanced toward the demons, whose eyes widened as they staggered backward. Brandon closed his eyes and ten seconds later the song was over. He opened his eyes and where the demons had been a moment earlier only gray dust remained.
He spun toward Marcus. “Did you see that?”
“You are indeed the song.”
“And you most certainly are the teacher.”
The professor smiled.
“Thank you.” Brandon embraced Marcus, then took his sword and glanced around the bowl. None of the demons were left unless they had regrouped behind the massive boulders the size of a small building to his left. “Did you see where Reece and Dana went?”
“I was too engaged with other activities.”
“Same here.” Brandon pointed to the pile of boulders. “You circle from the left, I’ll come in from the right. It’s the only place they could be.”
Marcus nodded and in a less than a minute they reached the boulders and split in either direction. After six paces he found Dana leaning against the rock wall, her chest heaving as she sucked in breaths and glanced rapidly side to side. She slumped forward when she spotted him. Splattered blood covered her left side and her hair looked like she’d been in a wind tunnel.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded and let the tip of her sword drop to the ground. “Better now. And you?”
“I’m okay.” He pointed over her shoulder. “Marcus went that way to find Reece. Let’s go find them and get out of here.”
They jogged around the circumference of the boulder, but after only ten strides a piercing wail filled the air and they stumbled to a halt. “We need to keep going.” He glanced at Dana’s wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She pointed to the top of the bowl. At least forty demons were climbing down from the ridge toward them. An instant later another wave appeared behind them and followed them down. Then another wave behind those.
“Where are they coming from?”
“Remember what Reece said? I’m guessing too much time has passed since we came inside. The gate has been open too long and the enemy is sending reinforcements.”
“We have to get out now.” He grabbed her hands.
“No. We have to all be together.”
She was right. Reece had said if they didn’t leave together, some of them could get stuck inside. Brandon turned to the demons sprinting toward them, swords raised, guttural cries pouring out of their dark maws. He opened his mouth to sing but this time no song came. Not good. He raised his sword and braced for impact. “We have a problem.”
Dana didn’t answer and sank to her knees.
“What are you doing? There’s no time for prayer.”
She didn’t answer.
“Dana! Get your sword up!”
“Trust me, Brandon, as I trusted you.” He barely heard her response against the wind and the shrieks of the demons. “Join me.”
“You’re calling for angels.”
“No, something more powerful. Trust me.”
The demons would reach them in twenty heartbeats at most. But multiple times since coming to Well Spring he’d seen her sense things in the spiritual realm he hadn’t. In her soul he’d asked her to trust him. And she had.
Brandon knelt and closed his eyes, ready for his head to leave his shoulders at any second. The screech of the demons’ voices sliced through the air and images of death filled his mind.
“You are a consuming fire, Lord. Consume us now, and bring the power of your light.”
“So be it.” Brandon opened his eyes to a wall of demons closing in on them. Three seconds. He grabbed Dana’s hand and wrapped his other arm around her in a futile attempt to block her from the onslaught.
As he did, a razor-thin column of light appeared between them and the demons and grew till it was as thick as one of the redwoods inside Dana’s soul. Then it exploded into bits of light the size of snowflakes, filling the air around them. Then each snowflake of light exploded and Brandon covered his eyes and fell flat on the ground. A sound like thunder rushed overhead and then there was silence.
Brandon pushed himself to his knees and pulled in a breath. The air was cool, the heat had vanished, and thin blades of grass pushed their way up through t
he barren soil. Hundreds of demons lay motionless on the sand and as he stared at their bodies they turned from black to gray to the color of the soil. A moment later they sank into the ground and were gone. He raised his face to the now-blue sky and continued to take in huge draws of air. This time it was over.
Blood seeped out of the wound on Brandon’s left shoulder and the right leg of his pants was ripped and smeared with blood, but he couldn’t feel it. All he felt was freedom. After a minute he glanced up at the field of battle. Dana breathed deep and opened her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded but didn’t speak, her eyes bright.
He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go find Reece and the professor.”
When they rounded the far corner they spotted Marcus on the ground fifty yards away. Marcus knelt with his back to them, gulping air into his lungs—but where was Reece? Oh no. Reece lay on the other side of Marcus—motionless—the ground in front of him stained with blood. Brandon and Dana staggered over to them and thudded to their knees.
“No.” Brandon pressed his hand on Reece’s chest where blood seeped out of a long gash.
The big man laid one palm over the top of Brandon’s hand, the other covering his eyes, and smiled.
“We’ve got to get you out of here now.”
“Yes, it’s time to go, but don’t worry, Maximus. The cut is not deep, the wound not mortal. I’ll be all right and I will have a nice scar on my physical body to remind me of this battle.”
Brandon sat back on his heels. Not a mortal wound. Relief surged through him.
Reece coughed. “Remember me talking about your final lesson? The one I couldn’t tell you when it would happen? This was it. And you have all passed with soaring colors. Well done.”
“Defeating the enemy and setting you free,” Brandon said.
“No, that’s not the lesson. Maybe you haven’t passed.” He squeezed Brandon’s hand. The grip was strong. Reece would be all right.
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