by Robert Ross
She stopped. Kellan reached for her, staring into her light brown eyes and brushing a finger gently along her cheek which was pink with exertion. He bent down to kiss the enochian scar left there by Asmodeus, but her expression went hard and she said something which he couldn’t hear. Confused, but undeterred, Kellan leaned in again while lifting his hand to cup her breast through the brown leather tunic. She batted away his hand. He saw flecks of green glow in her eyes as she wound up, and slapped him hard across the face.
Kellan’s eyes flew open. “What the hell was that?” he yelled to open air, then inwardly thought, Was that a dream? He frowned, disgruntled, sunk further into the tub and closed his eyes again. Shitty dream.
“Kellan!” He sat up alarmed. That was no dream. He could hear her in his head and something was very wrong. The Sentinel reached inward and drew from the emerald stream. He fused his will with the knowledge Lucifer shared of dark portals and saw a black oval rotate into view. “Shannon?” he called and felt confusion in his mind. She had heard him. He concentrated on the portal and it slowly faded to a gray through which another place could be seen, albeit dimly.
Shannon squinted and ran toward him, then jumped. She vanished from view. A moment later, he saw her suddenly appear again, landing with her back to him as if from another jump. She turned, clearly frustrated, and glared at the Sentinel.
“Kellan Thorne, what nonsense is this?” She walked directly in front of the portal and put her hands on hips. “You open this portal right now.” He saw her eyes narrow and mouth open slightly. Kellan recognized the expression.
Uh oh, he thought.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded, her face a thunderhead. “I’m getting attacked by demons and you are soaking in our tub! What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m by myself?” offered Kellan weakly.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Kellan, you are lucky I am not there to box your ears. A cadre of angels and demons have made off with the spear.”
Kellan leaned over the tub, alarmed and tried to further clarify the portal without making it fully open. Each time he made it stronger, he could feel the drain on his power increase. Few things drained him as quickly as opening a temporal-spacial portal. The dark portals required much less, but these gray ones were also taxing. With the connection clearer, Kellan could see Shannon carried several small wounds and her leathers were also torn in several places.
“What happened to you, Shannon,” Kellan asked as panic began to rise in him. “Why aren’t you wearing the kevlar stuff Meghan got you?”
“Kellan,” she began and he immediately recognized her you are being an idiot, voice, “What do you think happens to women in the 13th century who are found wearing clothes made in the 21st century?” She didn’t wait for an answer, “They get, burned, Kellan. As witches. Now open the portal, I need the Seal of Solomon.” She looked scared for a moment. “You did get the Seal, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I got it, but has your soul tether regenerated?”
“I don’t know, but it won’t matter much if I can’t stop that demon from getting the Spear of Longinus to the Cabal, now will it?” She tried to leap through the portal again, then circled around to glare back at Kellan.
“What is this new portal toy you’ve developed, Kellan?”
“It’s a dark portal. It let’s me use less energy so I can keep them open longer. No way I could have kept a white portal open this long.”
“You wouldn’t have had to,” she said flatly, “because I would have already come through.”
“Yeah, but I’m not letting you through until we know its safe. You nearly died, Shannon.” He paused. “You did die and I can’t risk that, again.”
“We are talking about the world dying. You have responsibilities. Let me though.”
“No! Not ’til I know you can come safely.” He watched as Shannon stomp a booted foot into the ground while making fists with both hands. He’d never seen her so angry which, he reminded himself absently, was saying something. Kellan softened his voice and tried to mollify her. “Look, Shannon, I know you hate it when you feel someone is controlling you, but—“
“Shut up, Kellan Thorne. Just shut up and get me the Seal.”
“I’ll come there and help,” he offered.
She held up a hand, “You will do no such thing. You are supposed to find the Cabal and that is exactly what you are going to do. It is one demon Kellan. One. I killed the other three. Well, two were angels, but as soon as they touched the spear,” Shannon paused and Kellan saw her shiver, “As soon as they touched the Spear, they screamed, their wings went black and they became like the others. Fell I suppose. Anyway, they were easy to kill, but the last bastard got a way.” She stomped her foot again. “I’m so mad I could spit. The scaly shit has one of my mother’s daggers in him.” She stared at him. “What are you still doing in that Tub? Get me the Seal!”
Kellan leaped out of the tub nearly slipping on the wet tile and scrambled to his office where the Seal of Solomon rested in the leather valet next to his phone, keys, and wallet. He grabbed it and scampered back to the bathroom to find her smiling at him.
“Hey, that’s better,” Kellan said. “You’re not mad anymore? Wait,” his voice grew suspicious, “You never get over being mad that quickly.” The young Sentinel watched her eyes trace him from head to toe as she took a deep breath.
“Oh I’m still furious, but when I’m faced with,” she waved her hands up and down in his direction, “that, I am capable of having multiple emotions at once.” Kellan looked down, having completely forgotten his state of undress and blushed furiously. Shannon gave him a wolfish grin. Give me the Seal and promise to make all this up to me, and I’ll cease being cross with you.”
Kellan concentrated and watched as the center part of the portal cleared completely. Shannon walked up and extended her hand through the opening. Kellan did likewise, placing the Seal of Solomon in her hand as the two locked eyes. He felt her fingernails dig into his outstretched wrist and power rushed out of him as her eyes took on a brilliant glow. He started to pull back his hand, but she held firm, draining him further.
“Shannon,” Kellan began, “It’s too much. You are going to hurt yourself.” He could see her beginning to tremble as sweat beaded on her forehead, but still she would not release him. “Shannon!”
“I’ll be fine,” she answered through gritted teeth, “Just a little more.” Finally she released him and Kellan stumbled, barely able to maintain the portal as it dimmed to gray.
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said, “But it is a major demon after all.”
Kellan shook his head, clearing it, “Wait, What? A major demon?”
“Of course, silly, you don’t think I would have let a minor one get away, do you?”
“Shannon, a major demon has enough power to widen any existing fissure in creation and escape!”
“A fact of which I am well aware and will use to my advantage,” she responded evenly.
“Shannon, that is, in no way, an advantage, he’ll—“ Kellan paused, his stomach twisting, “Shannon McLeod, don’t you follow him through any fissures. Promise me.”
She grinned at him, “Don’t be stupid. That’s why it’s an advantage I know exactly where that demon is headed. Have to go now, Sweetie. Thank you for the sparkles.” She turned and whistled. Moment’s latter a midnight black stallion trotted up beside her shaking his head and whinnying. Shannon tossed her hair back and deftly leaped into the saddle while Kellan stared on helplessly.
“Where are you going?” he called as he saw her dig her heals into the stallions side.
The horse leaped forward but she called back over her shoulder, “To the Creag at Inverness.”
Chapter 16
Demon Hunter
Shannon bent low over the galloping horse as bits of mane caught the wind and softly whipped her face. She breathed deeply, enjoying the musky sent of the animal as it seemed to effortlessly pr
opel her across the highlands. Shannon looked leftward out to sea and saw the first hints of dawn in the eastern sky. The soulborn whispered encouragement to her steed and smiled as his ears pivoted backwards to more easily catch the words she knew he couldn’t understand but that she said more for herself. Still, it was the tone that mattered.
“Frazier, my beautiful boy, I need you to run hard for me. We go to Dornoch first to get you a drink and a bit of rest, then cross the Firth to Tain.” She rubbed his neck affectionately as he whinnied. “I know, and then almost forty miles to the stones at Inverness, but it’s important.” She leaned further forward her red hair mixing with the black of his main as she whispered, “So run my clever boy and remember that the world and my love depend depend on us both.”
The sun had climbed halfway up the sky when Shannon reined Frazier up near the Cathedral within Dornoch proper. She slid out of the saddle and called to several priests that were just entering the large stone structure. The three stared at her a moment as she walked Frazier toward them, then the two younger priests glanced at their elder and took a step backward.
“Good morning, Father,” said Shannon with a smile. “I’m on a rather urgent errand and would be much obliged if I might water my horse and maybe provide him an apple or two, even a carrot though he doesn’t like them overmuch.” For his part the older man dismissed the two acolytes. One went willingly while the second’s eyes seemed to linger on Shannon. She smiled at him causing the boy to blush furiously, then turn to follow his fellow. That one is going to have a very tough time as a priest, thought Shannon as the elder priest rested his hand appreciatively on Frazier soft muzzle.
“I am Bishop Alan de St. Edmund, said the priest as he took in Shannon’s somewhat disheveled appearance and wounds. It would appear you need a bit more than apples and water, child. What has you in such a state?”
Why, chasing a major demon who stole the very spear that pieced the heart of Jesus, Bishop, thought Shannon and worked her jaw while inwardly cursing Kellan for rubbing off on her. Then she blessed him a moment later for the lie she formed was born of that self-same closeness.
“It was a vision, Bishop. I’ve been riding since dawn from the northern Highlands and must get to Inverness before midday, so says the vision. I woke up with it, Father.”
“A vision you say. And what was this vision?”
Shannon affected her most earnest express and said, “It was Bishop de Moravia. He came to me in the dream.”
The older man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Gilbert? You speak of Bishop Gilbert de Moravia?”
“The very same. He appeared to me standing over a dragon. It was dead by his hand, I am sure of it. He looked right at me and said ‘Shannon McLeod,’ I need you to ride now for Inverness. Arrive there by midday. Once there I am to find a man named Friar Duncan and have him pray for our blessed, departed, Gilbert to intercede lest a dragon descend on Inverness and put it to flame.”
“Child, child,” began Bishop de St. Edmund, “Sometimes, a dream is just a dream. You are young and impressionable. No doubt tales of our sainted Gilbert have reached your village in the north and have likewise invaded even your dreams. The road is long to Inverness and not without peril. I cannot in good conscious aid you in what I believe to be well intentioned folly.” He smiled and turned to go, but Shannon reached out and grabbed his arm.
“It was no simple dream, Bishop. Gilbert warned that many would die and that horrors would be visited upon both me and those who prevented me from my task.”
The old Bishop, smiled patiently but simply shook his head and said, “My answer remains, no, child. Now come inside and have something to eat.”
“No, no, no,” cried Shannon covering her face with both hands and sobbing loudly.
“Shannon,” said the priest, his voice becoming cross, “This is not becoming at—“ He broke off staring up as the sun suddenly became obscured by roiling black clouds that seemed for form from nothing. The air became charged and the Bishop took a step back, then crossed himself. The door burst opened and the two Acolytes joined him, both looking up fearfully as their hair began to rise.
“It’s happening,” screamed Shannon as he continued to keep her eyes well covered while feeling the telltale warmth of Kellan’s borrowed power within them. In her mind’s eye she saw the river of his power as it flowed within her. It lapped and splashed against banks higher than ever she’d seen before, but Shannon knew that, unlike with Kellan, when this power was expended, it would not return without him being near enough to touch. Still, forming the charged clouds didn’t use much. She just hoped a further demonstration wouldn’t be necessary.
“Apples and carrots you fool boys,” yelled the Bishop. “Bring them at once to the stable and make sure there is fresh water. Quickly! For the love of God, Saint Gilbert has sent this child on a holy mission and we will not impede her further.” The boys scampered off and Shannon released her grip on the power with a relieved sigh. She lowered her hands and Bishop de St. Edmund reached forward to take them in his own, while casting a furtive glance at the clearing sky. He stared into her pale brown eyes and shook his head. “Forgive me. Forgive me. I fear I may have lived too long without experiencing true miracles to recognize when I am in the presence of one.” He kissed her hands. “Come, Shannon McLeod, we will provision you well for the rest of your journey.”
Shanon could feel the Seal of Solomon becoming colder the closer she came to Inverness. It had been well over an hour since she stopped in Dingwall to give Frazier food, water, and a few minutes respite. She glanced up, squinting at the near noon-day sun and reined up to survey the landscape. She’d only been to the druidic stones at Inverness once and that was shortly after her mother’s death. Her whole family had come at Micah’s request and Shannon had always thought it odd that a Christian Priest would want to bring them to a pagan stone circle to pray. She smiled sadly at the memory. Of course Micah had been a lot more than a simple priest and, she reminded herself, a lot less as well. Over the intervening years Shannon had learned much, not the least of which was that such stones were often placed at locations of either great power or where the veil between worlds was weakest. The Creag at Inverness was of this latter type and Shannon knew the demon would seek to use the stone’s power to force open a portal to, she assumed, the Cabal.
One doesn’t grow up in the Highlands without developing a fine sense of direction. Shannon chuckled to herself, thinking of how much trouble Kellan would be in were he here. That man couldn’t find his arse with both hands, she thought affectionately. She smiled as her thoughts turned to him then shook her head. Can’t get distracted with that now. She recognized a small outcropping that seemed vaguely shaped like an axe head and urged Frazier on in that direction. Once she reached the summit and stared westward, the remaining landmarks resolved themselves from memory. She was close. Shannon gave the stallion a soft heel to the ribs and he cantered down the hillside then, at her urging, broke into a gallop. She turned him leftward and had the horse run along the center of a small stream, his hooves kicking up cold water that chilled her legs even as the Seal continued to do the same nestled between her breasts.
Moment’s later, she reined up and set her jaw. There, rising from the stream and to the right, she could just make out the tips of a stone circle. Frazier pushed with his powerful hind legs and propelled them out of the stream and up the shallow hill. An they cleared the trees, an open moor expanded before them, dominated by a large stone circle. The stallion trotted up to the nearest of the massive stones and whinnied.
Shannon patted his neck gratefully as she dismounted and gave his soft muzzle a kiss. She looked into his dark eyes and said, “You got us here, boy. Thank you.” With a shiver, she reached around her neck and pulled on the leather thong. The Seal of Solomon left what felt like a line of ice as she pulled it free of her tunic. Shannon glanced at it a moment the looked back to Frazier. “You need to go now.”
The stallion sputtered and
shook his head. Not for the first time, Shannon wondered just how much this horse understood. He had always been strange. Whether it was Frazier, her, or the spark of Sentinel energy she carried, the soulborn didn’t know. She did know that the horse always seemed to sense what she needed of him. Shannon pulled out the last apple and showed it to him. “I’m going to give you this, then I want you to go home.” Another shake of the head accompanied by a stomping of hoof. “No, Frazier, I’m not going to argue with you. I already have one insufferable male in my life. You’ve done your bit. I’ll not have you distracting me. Go back to Glenn Ferry and make Donal give you whatever you want. You know he can’t resist you.”
Frazier whinnied in what Shannon took as reluctant agreement and she smiled, handing him the apple, then examined the circle. The outer stones consisted of nine rough hewn pillars that were mostly square at the base, but tapered to the top of their twenty foot height. At the center of the circle, stood an even more imposing stone. Shannon placed her hand on it and gazed up at its nearly thirty foot height. Like the outer stones, it began with a square base but, unlike the others, did not taper at its top. As her fingers traced one of the numerous enochian runes that etched its surface, Shannon thought she could feel power coursing through it.