Raven's Rise (World on Fire Book 3)

by Lincoln Cole

  Each of the pages held a family tree, detailing the lineage lines of various families. The first two pages expanded wildly, following a prolific growth pattern that would result in countless living descendants.

  The other bloodlines appeared slightly less prolific but still entailed quite a few people who might share the blood, provided none of the lines ended. Haatim only recognized the names of Gotlieb and Reinfer.

  The Gotlieb and Reinfer lines looked considerably less expansive, and the spouses or partners didn’t get documented at all if they didn’t share the bloodline directly.

  Someone had circled some of the names and left others alone, and the entire list began around the thirteenth century and continued up through the sixteenth.

  “They stopped tracking there,” Father Paladina said, seeing the question on Haatim’s face before he could even ask.

  “You have no records beyond this?”

  “Not from after they ceased to maintain the records. However, I’ve managed to find the links to pick up where those records left off in certain cases, using online tools and registries.”

  “These are the founding families?”

  “Their lineages, yes. The original seven. The Church tracked them for just such an eventuality, but the more time that passed, the less likely it seemed that what is happening today would ever come to pass. We grew lax.”

  “A little shortsighted if you ask me.”

  Father Paladina chuckled. “You try maintaining records that span centuries without complete information.”

  Haatim looked over the names. “Why are some circled and some not?”

  “The sons,” Father Paladina said, a hint of distaste in his voice. “More ignorant times, as though the blood of their daughters held less validity.”

  “So many names,” Haatim said, scanning the list. “How are we supposed to track down all the living descendants?”

  Father Paladina sighed. “As I said, four of the bloodlines are already compromised and not worth our time.”

  He reached across the table and filtered through the pages, removing four of them. “And Frieda’s blood got taken as well.”

  Then the priest pulled loose the Gotlieb page, leaving only two.

  “Two left,” Haatim said.

  One of them showed the Reinfer line, and the other, Otolan. Neither of them seemed as expansive as some of the others but still would result in quite a few descendants.

  “Yes.”

  “Still a lot of people to look up.”

  “I’ve been looking into it for weeks now. Of the Reinfer line, I can only be sure of one true descendent, and that is Jill Reinfer, who served on the Council. I’ve found a few others who might match the criteria, but if I had to guess, I would say that Jill would seem likeliest.”

  “Why?”

  Father Paladina frowned. “What happened in Switzerland feels distinctly personal. Jill served on the Council, albeit briefly. And targeting her would make a powerful statement, much like targeting Frieda rather than one of her relatives.”

  Haatim hesitated. “But, now the demon knows we’re onto it.”

  “True. I might have it wrong. In either case, the Otolan bloodline proves most interesting.”

  “Why?”

  Father Paladina pulled out the sheet and pointed toward the point where the families no longer tracked. “Around this point, nearly all of them died.”

  “What? Over sixty people? How did they all die?”

  “They got hunted.”

  “By whom?”

  Father Paladina stayed silent for a long time. “Us.”

  ***

  A stunned silence hung in the air.

  “You’re saying the Catholic Church hunted down and killed all of these people?”

  “Every single one; at least, as far as I can tell.”

  “Why? There are dozens of people here.”

  “So this ritual could not be completed. If all of them died, we surmised, then the ritual could never take place.”

  “That’s …” Haatim couldn’t think of the words to describe it.

  Father Paladina nodded. “I know. Barbaric. Genocidal. Darker times, Haatim.”

  “Why then? What happened to make them do it?”

  “If I had to guess, someone tried to do what the demon is doing today. Someone tried to release Surgat. The Church officials theorized that if one of the bloodlines got eliminated completely, then Surgat would stay trapped in hell forever.”

  Haatim fell silent while he thought through the ramifications. “Then, all of this is for nothing. If they murdered everyone involved, then the ritual can’t get completed, right?”

  “If that were the case, I doubt the demon would bother at all. The demon must know something we don’t.”

  “So the purge happened for nothing?”

  Father Paladina shook his head. “They didn’t get them all. They thought they had, but one of the children survived, and his bloodline continued. The only problem is, I can’t follow it past the mid-nineteen-twenties, so I don’t know who or where the descendants might be today.”

  “And you think the demon does?”

  “We have to assume so. If there remains even the slightest chance that the demon can find out what living descendent might have the necessary blood, then we need to find that person first.”

  Haatim tapped his chin, thinking. It made sense, though he had no clue where to start looking to try and figure this out. He would need a computer, a lot of time, and a general idea of where he should begin.

  If what Father Paladina said proved true, then he estimated that there could be no more than ten or twelve living descendants if each generation had the normal number of children. That meant that only ten or twelve people lived out in the world that Nida could use to complete her ritual and …

  After a few moments, he felt Father Paladina’s eyes boring into him.

  “You have it, don’t you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Frieda didn’t tell me that when she told me of you. Quite interesting.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Gift. The Touch. The Curse. Whatever you want to call it. You can channel, can’t you? I can sense it inside you. How many times have you done it?”

  The hairs rose on the back of Haatim’s neck. “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

  “Yes, you do. You know exactly to what I refer. Maybe that made for one of the reasons Frieda sent you here to me. She asked me to keep you safe, which I thought strange. Of all the places she could have sent you, she chose here. But, now it makes sense.”

  “What are you talking about? What do you mean that Frieda asked you to keep me safe?”

  “Come with me.”

  Father Paladina stood, sliding the papers back into the file. He walked quickly over to the counter, spoke to the woman, and handed her the folder. She slipped it back out of sight, and then the priest rushed toward the exit.

  Haatim struggled to keep up, not sure what was going on. What did the priest mean by “keep him safe?” Frieda had sent him here to find information, right?

  Keep him safe from what?

  They slipped back out of the dark library and into the sun, headed for the car. Father Paladina spoke at speed to the driver in Italian and then gestured for Haatim to climb in the back seat.

  “Where are we going?”

  “One last stop, then I will drop you off at your hotel for the rest of the day.”

  “Stop where?”

  “Please, Haatim, just get in the car.”

  Haatim hesitated, and then nodded. He climbed into the back, and Father Paladina stepped in after him. The driver put the car into motion, and they got back on the road in only moments.

  They traveled in silence, and Father Paladina wouldn’t even look at him as they went. The drive took about fifteen minutes, and as they went, the buildings grew less impressive and more rundown. They’d entered the slums.

  Finally, they stopp
ed in front of a nondescript older building with no identification or markers. It stood in a residential district that appeared incredibly quiet, with brick roadways and numerous arches segregating the areas.

  “Where are we?”

  “A training ground, of sorts.”

  “Training for what?”

  The priest didn’t answer. Instead, he opened the door and climbed out, and without looking back, walked into the building. Haatim glanced at the driver but found no help there. Finally, he unbuckled and followed.

  Dark inside, the building felt ancient. It had a low ceiling and smelled dank and dusty.

  It reminded him, just for a second, of when he had gone with Abigail into the caves in the forest outside of Raven’s Peak, where they’d found the knife; though they hadn’t known it at the time. That also made the first time he’d seen Nida, albeit only her feet through a tunnel. This building made him feel just as claustrophobic as crawling through those narrow holes deep underground.

  Father Paladina had gone already, walking further into the building. Somewhere up ahead, a door closed.

  “Hello?” Haatim asked. “Where did you go?”

  No answer. He waited a second, wondering where the priest had gone, but the room remained silent and empty. A hallway stretched off in front of him, heading deeper into the building, but it seemed quiet.

  He waited a full five minutes, but the priest didn’t return. Finally, hesitantly, he walked to the hallway and peered inside. It had no windows or lights, but he could see a faint glow somewhere further down. A faint sound came from the distance—like whistling wind or exhaled breath—but nothing else.

  “Hello?” he tried one more time. Again, he received no response.

  Haatim steeled his nerves and edged down the hallway, peering into the rooms on his right and left. They looked like cells in a prison, though with no attached doors or windows with views of the outside world. They seemed like empty boxes, roughhewn and uncomfortable.

  The deeper he went into the building, the heavier the air felt and the worse it all smelled. He came to the end of the hallway, where it turned to the right to a staircase leading down. The windy noise sounded louder now, but no more discernable than a few moments ago.

  Briefly, Haatim considered his options, sighed, and then started down the staircase. It went down into the darkness for a long way, with the stairs cut into the rock of the ground. It proved narrow and offered no handrail. The small steps, broken in places, made it difficult to navigate. If he tripped, it wouldn’t end well for him.

  He stepped off the final stair what felt like four floors deep into the ground, maybe more. Though still dark, just enough light filtered in from up ahead that he could see and move.

  He walked, one hand touching the cold and unforgiving wall until he came to another doorway. This one opened into a large chamber, and he could hear that windy/breathy sound coming from inside.

  His eyes had adjusted to the thick gloom, but he couldn’t see the far wall of the room. Had Father Paladina gone this way? Why on Earth had they come here? It all felt extremely eerie, and Haatim hesitated.

  “Father Paladina, are you in here?”

  No response. He thought to turn back and head for the car. Maybe the priest hadn’t come this way at all. Whatever was going on, it felt clear that Father Paladina wanted to mess with him, maybe even scare him.

  If that was the case, then it had worked.

  Haatim turned back toward the stairs, but then a shuffling sound came from the chamber behind. He glanced back. A form stood a few meters away, shrouded in the darkness.

  “Father Paladina?”

  Haatim pulled out his phone, flicking it to turn on the flashlight. The shuffling sound moved closer, and then came a metallic clanking sound too.

  Something felt wrong. The eeriness had gone, replaced by fear. He sweated and panted as he backed out of the room. Finally, Haatim managed to swipe his phone and get the flashlight activated.

  He held up the light.

  It shone onto a torn and ragged face in front of him, only a meter away and with a collar around its neck.

  It tried to jerk forward, face in a twisted grimace, but reached the end of its slack. It made a snarling sound at Haatim, and he saw rotten teeth and gums.

  A chained demon.

  Locked in the basement of this building.

  “What the hell?”

  The demon lunged at him, and he stumbled back. It couldn’t reach him but still scared the crap out of him. His foot caught on the rough ground, and he fell backward, landing hard on his tailbone with a grunt.

  “This is where we train new exorcists.” Father Paladina’s voice came from off to the right.

  Haatim turned on his light. The old Priest sat on a wooden stool in the corner of the room, watching him solemnly. “We give them their first taste of what they will have to deal with.”

  “What?”

  Father Paladina glanced over at him. “Most don’t even make it to this point. A few don’t make it past that. When you see something like this, it changes you. For the longest time, I knew nothing of this world. But then, my eyes were opened.”

  “You’re an exorcist?”

  “A scholar and teacher. My duty was to survey situations to determine where a true exorcist would be needed. We have so few, and their services remain in constant demand. In my lifetime, I’ve only known a few true exorcists. That’s how I could sense your gift. It’s tangible, otherworldly, and once you see it … well, you can’t forget it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Father Paladina shook his head. “When did you first channel? How many times?”

  Haatim hesitated. “Raven’s Peak. The first and only time. Frieda told me not to talk about it.”

  The priest nodded. “She told you right. Your gift could get corrupted as easily as harnessed. She should have sent you directly to us when she realized, but I can understand her reluctance. I haven’t felt anyone quite like you before. Most people only get a touch if anything at all, but you …”

  “What is the gift?”

  “The real power. The essence of how you can affect the world around you. It is divinity incarnate.”

  “And you think I have it?”

  “I know you do. What happened that first time?”

  “I …” Haatim frowned, climbed back to his feet, and rubbed his tailbone. It hurt, a lot. “I walked through a volley of flying objects and came out unharmed.”

  “Do you remember how you did it?”

  “I didn’t do anything. I just knew they wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Father Paladina nodded, then turned and gestured toward the chained demon.

  In the light, Haatim could see that it lay dead already, skin rotting off the corpse. It looked to have lain here for a long time.

  The priest said, “Expel this creature.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Command this creature to leave and return to hell.”

  Haatim stared at the priest.

  All of a sudden, the demon lunged forward, reaching for Haatim, who staggered back out into the hallway. It snarled, at the end of its chain.

  “What is wrong with it?”

  “It has been trapped here for a long time. The body died, and it lost the ability to communicate.”

  “You mean you’ve been torturing it?”

  Father Paladina frowned but didn’t answer. “It is a creature from hell. Send it back there.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can. You just don’t know how. Yet.”

  “Can you teach me?”

  Father Paladina shook his head. “I can guide you, but it isn’t something I’ve ever experienced personally. It remains an incredibly rare thing. Less than one percent of one percent of the population has it, and even then, very few ever learn how to use it even a little bit. You have the gift, and you have a lot of it.”

  “But you can’t teach me how to use it?”

  “Prac
tice. That’s the only way I know.”

  Father Paladina stood from his stool and walked toward Haatim. Then he went into the hallway and headed back toward the staircase.

  “You will return here daily. Learn how to control your powers. How to use them. Because they can make a weapon for good.”

  “We need to figure out who the demon in my sister has gone after,” Haatim said. “We can’t waste time on other things.”

  “This will not prove a waste. You will find it incredibly necessary, and it could prove vital.”

  “Why?”

  “I offer no exaggeration. When you can control your abilities, you can send these creatures back from whence they came. You can command and control them.”

  “I thought I needed to know their names.”

  “The name gives power, but you won’t need it. With your gift, you can send demons home without it.”

  Haatim frowned. “That still doesn’t help me with the ‘how’ of what you’re talking about.”

  Father Paladina laughed. “Hence the practice. Over the coming days, you will get to know this demon very well.”

  Chapter 10

  Dominick told himself that he did this for the sake of what Frieda wanted him to do. After all, he couldn’t do his job if the security team wouldn’t let him. Trent seemed the kind of guy only impressed by strength and courage, and the surest way to win him over would come through respect. And taking on his guys and winning would do that, so it appeared practical.

  But, to be honest, Dominick did it because it just sounded fun.

  Though sure these guys would prove tough opponents, that didn’t worry him too much. Win or lose, he felt confident he could make his point. Filled with pent-up energy and frustration, he needed to blow off some steam. He’d stayed cooped up for too many days now, waiting for something to happen, and had grown anxious.

  Plus, he could use the workout.

  Trent set up the fight on the west lawn, an open space with soft grass and firm soil. Only an hour after Dominick had thrown down the gauntlet, four men stood out there, already, waiting for him.

  Jill Reinfer turned up as well, scowling at Dominick when he walked across the lawn with Trent. She wore an expensive gown and sat in a white lawn chair that looked enormous. A butler stood just behind her right-hand side, watching everything and unmoving.