“Those are not the demons who attack. You speak as if you have not sat with us for all of these years trying to protect the city from the enemy. The enemy you want to surrender to.” Isabel could not believe what the Elder was saying.
“I sat as you ordered. No one else’s voice could be heard above all your gospel about The Order’s might.”
“The Order have protected the humans, and the Witch and Wiccan communities. Even now, my people have committed to a Call to Arms. Our civilians have chosen to take up the fight.” Isabel dropped her guardian’s mask. She wanted Abigail to see the disgust on her face.
“You have made us believe we cannot survive without The Order’s protection.”
Hushed talking rumbled around her. The other Elders exchanging words of agreement and opposition. The Council of Elders was being divided. The Council could not fracture, not now. Why was Abigail being antagonizing? Maybe it was the duress of their situation, the hopelessness of it. But to propose surrender? Unthinkable.
“The Anakim have served and sacrificed without any expectation of return from the other communities. We have lost many sons and daughters.” Pater, the Watcher leader spoke up. “Our numbers dwindle, while everyone else’s flourishes.” There was fire behind his eyes. “We protect the innocent.”
“All the innocent!” Chimed in Edward, the second Watcher Elder. “We protect because it is our calling, not because we try to convince you of anything.” He was as fired up as Pater.
“Abigail is right.” It was Grace’s turn. “We have our strengths. Our own powers, but we’ve been made to believe we need the Anakim and The Order.” Her words were strong though the strength didn’t carry in the tone of her voice. She turned to Abigail as if looking for approval. “Maybe it is the Anakim that need us. Not the other way around.”
The argument was escalating. The tension between the Elders was thick and ready to break. Disagreements were not uncommon between the Council. In fact, it was expected. Seven strong willed individuals could not possibly agree 100% of the time. But what was happening was unlike any debate this group had ever had.
Isabel called upon Mother Gaia. Great warmth spread through her body. Like syrup spreading atop a pancake. It was silky and soothing. She channeled the warmth to her hands calling it to concentrate and burst forth. “Stop!” she bellowed, releasing an earthly boom and tremor into the room. The Elders quieted immediately. “We must come together.” Isabel stood, looking at each of the Elders in earnest.
Abigail was pointing, her finger stabbing the air repeatedly, an ugly sneer curling her lips. “This is exactly what I mean. You make a show of your power to quiet us into submission! After all of these years, Isabel. I now see we never had an alliance.”
Isabel’s stomach churned, the accusations both saddening her and infuriating her at once.
“I...” Abigail turned to Grace, the other Witch leader, “We. We will no longer stand by this.”
Grace seemed to droop in her seat, her gaze held to the floor. She raised her chin slowly, avoiding looking at Isabel or the other Anakim leaders, Pater and Edward. She swallowed, her lips pursing tightly. “We will call upon our own. We will stand on our own and make decisions for our community. Without the Anakim.” She pushed up from her seat.
Abigail looked triumphant. Her smile smug as she swept her gaze over the Council.
“Let’s go, Grace. Gather our people.”
“You cannot do this!” Isabel pleaded. Regardless of her anger towards Abigail, she couldn’t allow this. Too many would perish. “You are safer here. The city is now overrun with demons. We are stronger together.” She turned toward Grace. “Grace, please. All these years, have I ever misled you?”
Grace refused to look at her, and started to walk away.
“Grace, please.” Isabel reached out
Abigail narrowed her eyes, leveling her condemning stare at the High Mother. “Give it up, Isabel. Grace sees the truth.”
Warmth flooded behind her eyes. “What have you done, Abigail?” Her tone was sharp.
“I’ve only opened her eyes, High Mother.” Her title was voiced in mockery. The corner of her lip turned upward, the smile cold and malicious.
Isabel watched Abigail walk out, the Elder’s steps measured and deliberate. Grace followed behind her, but looked defeated. Isabel turned, wanting to see who was stepping behind her.
Salvador was approaching.
“Are you leaving as well?” She asked the Human Elder, dreading the response.
“I am staying, High Mother.” He reached for her hand and gripped it softly.
There was one last Elder sitting at the table, his hands steepled against his forehead as if in prayer.
“And you... David?” Isabel asked, her voice weary. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want to see the Council further damaged. David was in a silent debate against himself.
“I am unsure, High Mother,” he admitted as he turned to face her. He looked burdened. “We, humans, have the greatest numbers, yet we’re unable to gather but a handful. Our people are being killed as we speak, yet the truth is so far from their understanding, they cannot see the demons for who they really are. Our people are easy prey. Simple fodder for hungry beasts.”
“There are a few who would rise up. Those who see the truth.” Salvador added eagerly. His gaze held to the High Mother.
“But so very few.” David sighed. “My continued allegiance means nothing.” He bowed his head.
“That is not true,” Isabel replied. “It takes only a few to convince the masses.”
David got up from his seat. “Give me time to think about this.”
“There is nothing to think about, David.” Salvador spoke up. “We stay with The Order. We help the Anakim.”
“Is it really smart to stay where the target has been placed?” He headed for the door.
“David!” Salvador tried to stop him.
“Give me time to think, my friend,” he said softly as he walked out of the chamber.
“David. We have to stand together in this,” Salvador pleaded as he followed the Elder out the door.
“Dark times are upon us,” Pater announced as they watched David and Salvador walk out, and the future of the Council cracked like a crevasse underneath their feet.
Isabel remained stunned, her mind trying to make sense of what just transpired with the Council. “Pater, the alliance…” She looked at her old friend, her eyes welling with tears.
“The Anakim stands alone, High Mother.” Pater responded with a heavy sigh. His gaze still held to the opened door of the chamber.
Isabel could feel the sadness rolling off of her friend, his disbelief as great as hers and Edward’s. “We must stand strong, High Mother.” Edward looked at the empty chairs around their table. “There may be no Council of Elders, but the three of us are still here. As friends and family, we join our people in this war. We fight alongside them as warriors, as we once were. Our experience will still be of value.”
“You are right, Edward.” The High Mother rose from her chair and sniffed back a sob.
“All is not lost.” It was Pater. “David and Salvador could still come back.”
“Perhaps,” the High Mother sighed, “but David is right. There are so very few humans to rally. Worse yet, most of the humans have fallen under some type of enchantment cast by the demons.”
“They cannot see what is clearly in front of them.” Edward was shaking his head. “I don’t care how stubborn humans are. If they saw what was truly happening, they would not stand for it. They are being eliminated without a fight.”
“Whatever magic hangs over the city is strong and dark,” Pater chimed in.
Isabel straightened, her system renewed with cautious excitement. “My friends, I cannot believe I haven’t thought of this before… I… I,” she stammered. “Dearest Creator, forgive me. The fog I was in must have been thicker than I realized…”
“What is it?” Pater asked.
; “Wandalerius Magicae Album.” Isabel smiled.
“Gesundheit!” Edward blessed her.
“What is it?” Pater asked again.
“Not what, my friend. Who.” Isabel’s smile widened. “Follow me. We need to locate Wandalerius.”
The men looked at each other in surprise, quickly following the High Mother out of the Elder’s Chamber. “Wandalerius, as in the Grand Sorcerer? He moves constantly.” Pater didn’t seem convinced.
“Wandalerius is here.” Isabel called out as she ran down the hallway. “He came with Will and Sarah.”
The men behind her remained quiet, their steps keeping pace with hers. They were as steady as they had been in their younger years when they served within the ranks of the Guardians. Isabel looked over her shoulder quickly, reminiscing about their younger days when the three of them served under Raijin, Elysa’s grandfather. It would be time for them to come together again as warriors, just as Edward had declared. She wished Raijin were here now, to lead them again. She still missed her old friend, even decades after his death.
“Where are we going, Isabel?” Edward called out.
“To the lab. That’s where Will and Sarah have been spending most of their time. I’m sure Wanda will be with them.” Her heart twinged at the mention of the lab. Most of the Sisters spent their time there, practicing their craft. Anya, The Order’s Oracle, was a constant at the lab. It was Anya’s sanctuary. But with Abigail and Grace leaving the alliance, they’d threatened to take all the witches with them. Isabel braced herself as they turned the corner, and came upon the arched entryway to the lab.
Prepared to see the space vacated by the Sisters, Isabel choked back a happy tear to see some of the Sisters had remained; Mary, Teresa, Tess, and Anya. The women stopped their activities immediately, surprise brightening their eyes. “High Mother, thank the Creators.” Mary was walking briskly toward her, the hem of her light blue dress flittering gracefully around her thin ankles. “Abigail was here. She said the Wiccans and Witches have left the alliance with The Order. She convinced many of the Sisters to go with her and Grace.”
Isabel could feel Edward and Pater bristle behind her. Isabel took Mary’s hand and cupped it. “It is true. The Council has been broken. After all of these ages, when we need to come together the most, is when we fracture.” She let out a heavy breath. “Have all the other Sisters gone?”
Mary was shaking her head. “Leah, my assistant in Infirmary has stayed as well as her sister, Myra. Gina, Anya’s student is also here. We’ve contacted High Priestess Samantha; she and her coven remain true to The Order. They will stay in the city and continue to help in the fight.”
“The Corvidae Coven and seven Sisters have remained here at the estate. That’s better than zero! I was afraid everyone would have left,” Edward boasted.
“Samantha warned that news of the Council’s dissolution is spreading quickly amongst the witch community.” Mary was shaking her head. “Who knows how many more will join Abigail’s madness.”
Isabel gripped Mary’s hand tighter, “Thank you.” She swept her gaze to the others. “Thank you, all.”
“Our loyalty is to you and The Order, High Mother.” Anya’s sweet voice rose up. “The Order is our family. It does not matter that we are witches. Being of the same kind does not mean instant trust or fealty.” Anya frowned as she crossed her arms across her small frame. “Abigail is mental and Grace is swept up in her craziness. They’ve never shown interest in me or the other Sisters till now.” She pointed to the other women.
“Whatever you need, High Mother, we will do our best to make it happen.” Mary gave Isabel a solemn smile before stepping back.
“Have you seen Wandalerius, Mary?” Pater asked quickly. That had been the purpose of their coming to the lab.
The stalwart woman shook her head slightly. “I have not seen him, nor Will or the others for some time. I’ve heard they have been busy searching for Elysa.”
Disappointed and weary, Isabel turned to Edward and Pater. “Why don’t you get some rest? It has been an agonizing evening. I promise I will call you when I find Wandalerius.” She turned again to the women in the lab, her gratitude lifting her spirits. “Thank you, again. My debt to each of you is eternal.” She walked out slowly, planning to head to Control.
Chapter Fifteen
Nether
Jarron twisted in place, holding the death rider in his arms. He needed to examine her, make sure she was unharmed, but the plains were barren and empty of any visible resources. Whether it was his imagination or not, the Nether seemed to be getting darker.
He heaved Katcher over one shoulder and began to walk, securing her legs beneath his forearm. If anything attacked, he would at least have one hand free. In the meantime, he called upon White Purity to light the way. Immediately, wisps of dark souls scattered away, but remained outside the perimeter of his light, following them. It reminded him of stray dogs looking for food and attention. Time as he knew it did not feel the same in this realm. There was no telling how much time had passed, what he could quantify as minutes, felt like days. Fatigued from walking, he set Katcher down gently on the ground. “I had hoped we would have run into some kind of structure by now.” He told the unconscious woman. “I had hoped you would be awake by now.”
He knelt on one knee next to his companion as he looked around wondering how Ellie survived this place on her own. It was no wonder her meeting with Will in this realm ended in his mortal death. No one would have faulted her for it. Will did not, but knowing Ellie she would not have been so easy on herself. He blew out, “She doesn’t deserve any of this.” He scoffed at the irrationality of everything that Ellie had been put through and continues to suffer.
He looked at Katcher and hovered his hands over her form. Her energy was weak but steady. Physically, he did not detect any injuries. But her energetic signature was damaged. Torn and unstable in areas. It could be why she passed out. He did not know much about Death Riders, but she emanated the same type of auric fields as Others. He could help.
He breathed in, collecting his own energy within his palms. He pushed white light into her crown, causing her to wince.
She was responding.
“Katcher. Wake up.” He looked about, his head turning towards every sound. He cradled her head, careful not to drop the woman on the packed dirt. His gut was tightening along with his chest as White Purity began to pulse inside of him. Something was coming. “Katcher.” He jostled her a little bit. “I’m going to need your help.”
The woman moaned as she sat up, and grabbed the top of her skull. “My head,” she grimaced, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Can you get up?” He asked as he shifted on the balls of his feet. “We got incoming.”
Katcher blew out a ragged breath and stood up with a slight wobble. “I will be alright, Jarron St. Sebastian.” The death rider was unsteady, her balance off, and her coloring a sickly gray.
Jarron studied his companion closer even as his mind worked on alternatives to get out of their situation. “Katcher. Keep your back to mine. Pull on my light. Use it as a shield.” He swallowed as the ground beneath them began to tremor. “Don’t get too far from me. Even when the battle starts, stay within the perimeter of my light. It’ll help you with the energetic intoxication.”
Katcher closed her eyes and swallowed as she wobbled once to her right. She held up a palm even as she teetered to stop him from helping. She mouthed something in silence as her consciousness found his, and he allowed a bond to form between.
“Tap into my light,” he directed. Sharp, focused pain curled in the middle of his chest. The stimulus speeding the already churning element just beneath his skin. White light illuminated their area, as a stream of his energy poured from him to Katcher. It was working. Katcher was steadying on her feet, her form straightening, and her eyes brightening.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged.
“Get behind me. Whatever is coming. It’s getting close.”
“How did you escape the dark spirit?” she whispered as they circled to monitor for the intruder.
He sighed sharply, not wanting to talk about his ordeal.
“You helped me.” Katcher shifted behind him. With the light bonding them together, their movements were coordinated.
“I wanted to kill you. Worse, I wanted to torture you.” He admitted, shame riding him. “If you hadn’t run. I would have harmed you.”
“You did not come after me.”
Jarron’s jaw clenched. He remembered watching her run. He remembered looking forward to hunting her, and making a game of it. He remembered the evil overcoming him, and his soul being forced into a cage. He had been possessed. But that’s where his recall ended.
Black dirt and gravel shot up from the ground like inverted rain pelting them. All around, the ground trembled attempting to throw them off their feet. Back to back they balanced each other as they circled, gazes darting to watch the perimeter.
“How are you feeling?” Jarron asked as his gut clenched, knowing a powerful demon would soon appear.
“Sick,” Katcher admitted. “I feel like the darkness is trying to overtake my essence.”
“You have to fight it Katcher. You are attuned to the light. To demons, you must look like a lighthouse. They will be drawn to you. They want that light, that essence that is connected with the divine. It’s something they’ve lost. It’s why they consume essences.”
With White Purity connecting them, he could see Katcher in his mind’s eye close her eyes and focus on his voice.
“Ground your energy. The earth can neutralize any negativity you feel. Pour it all into Her.”
“Please, Mother,” she prayed. She twisted her feet into dirt, the thin, flat soles of her shoes allowing her to feel the dirt beneath. Gaia twined with White Purity, the energies binding and strengthening each other. Gentle warmth surrounded them, grounding them together.
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