“I did sleep.”
“For about three hours. You look exhausted.”
Alex glanced at Dracht and quirked her lips at the corner. For such dark eyes, his were expressive. When he wanted them to be. Just now she could see a faint glimmer of humor laced through the seriousness.
“Well, it's been a long week. But I feel rested. That's what counts, right?” she asked.
Like it was an impulse, Dracht reached over to pick up a piece of her hair and bring it to his nose. The long length of it, dry now after the rain, looked silky between his rough fingertips. Alex shifted her attention from the texture of it and his skin, finding his eyes again. Sometimes, Dracht had a way of making a point without saying anything at all. The point he made just then didn't have anything to do with sleep or rest.
“It'll catch up with you later,” he said, letting her hair fall back to her shoulder.
“You should be thinkin' ahead to China, not worryin' about me,” she pointed out.
“I can do both.”
He sounded so matter of fact that Alex didn't have a quick comeback. How much worry was due to his job, and how much was personal? She had avoided thinking too deeply about it, letting all the distractions take her mind off it. But she couldn't deny that she was curious.
“What?” he asked, cutting into the silence.
“Nothin'.” She tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Alex wasn't about to have that kind of conversation. Maybe she read him all wrong. Maybe those electric looks and his caution in her stead were her imagination. Or just how he did his job.
Before she could get too comfortable, the jet lurched sideways, the right wing tipping down so suddenly that it threw her against Dracht. A high pressure whine raced through the cabin, the engines screaming.
“Evasive maneuver, hang on!” Roman called over the intercom. His voice carried the strain of urgency.
Dracht slung an arm around her shoulders and pressed her even closer. The armor made it somewhat uncomfortable, but that was the least of her worries.
“What's happening?” she rasped, holding onto the chair arm and Dracht both.
“Don't know. He's trying not to hit something, or an unexpected object loomed up on the radar.”
Across the cabin, Evelyn woke up with a startled gasp. Alex watched Rhett clutch her to him while the slant deepened. An impossible angle, she thought, that sent a shudder through the aircraft.
It righted and dipped the other direction but not as sharp of a tilt; out the small oval window on her right, Alex saw what Roman was evading.
In the black earth below, a fount of red lava spewed into the air, rivers of it spreading out like octopus arms in every direction. It was difficult to tell the ash cloud from the regular gloom, but they were low enough that Roman probably saw the darker column coming up from the glow of red and swerved to avoid it.
“Where are we?” Alex asked. She wasn't sure how long they'd been in the air. Four, five, six hours?
“Somewhere over Turkey, I'd guess. I know Roman said he was going to have to land there to refuel at some point.”
“Let's hope it's not any time soon.” Alex felt a pang of remorse for the people on the ground, who probably never had any warning an eruption was coming. The earthquakes, pestilence and storms were bad enough. Volcanoes with their choking ash and burning lava would only add more mayhem. To distract herself from the ugly scene below, she returned her attention to Dracht.
He was looking at her, face solemn, mouth compressed into a line of displeasure.
“What do you think of Khy?” she whispered. Maybe she could distract him from the hellfire and death.
“I think we don't have any other choice but to trust him.” He spoke low, moving his lips closer to her ear.
“But what's your gut instinct say?” she pressed.
“That he means what he says. I don't think he's leading us down a false path. Whether we're going to get the other Seals with his help? Hard to say. We sure as hell have a better chance with him along than without him. What about you? You feeling something off?”
“No. I don't remember him from my time in Eden. Which doesn't mean anything. There were hundreds of them I never met. I do remember Ashrael telling us a really long time ago that a few of the Fallen had tried to make amends, that they wanted their Guardian status back.”
“Did they ever revert?” he asked.
“No. Not one.”
Chapter Twelve
The Yangtze River snaked through the landscape, a twisting, curving body of water that looked as dark as the sky above it. Cliffs, hills and gorges surrounded the River on both sides, and Evelyn thought it was probably beautiful on any normal, given day. Without the sun, doused in gloom, it lost a lot of impact.
After so many hours in the jet, with two refueling nightmares behind them, she was ready to get down to business. Anticipation made her shoulders tense now that they were descending to land. Roman set them down on what appeared to be the flat top of a cliffside, but there must have been a runway or a road because the landing was smooth instead of bumpy.
Rhett touched a kiss to her temple and after they gathered their weapons, the group filed out of the plane onto the ground. A brisk wind twitched her hair around her shoulders, the mass unrestrained. A distinct smell of lush foliage, water and earth mixed with the electric sensation of lightning and rain.
Even here there was evidence of the pestilence that plagued the rest of the world; glittering, wet carapaces littered the ground, a layer of black that wasn't as thick as when it descended after the rain washed some of it away.
Against the moody, gray sky, the Templars looked more like warriors than ever to her. Each one wore an expression of chiseled determination, jaws set, muscles flexing from the weight of their armor and shields. They walked with proud postures and brisk strides, eyes forward on the Fallen that led them away from the plane.
Roman had found a desolate road to land them on in the middle of nowhere. To their right sat a two-hundred foot cliff overlooking the gorge and river below; to the left, nothing but miles of lush foliage, sporadic trees and stunning landscape. The pewter cast to the atmosphere couldn't strip all the beauty away, and Evelyn promised herself that if they made it through, she would return here for a visit some day.
Khyamaeus, with his bow and arrows strapped to his back, sword sheathed at his side, led them off the runway deeper into the greenery. The foliage here ranged between hip and shoulder height, with some bushes towering above their heads. Broad, glossy leaves caught puddles of rainwater in their crevices that dripped out one drop at a time.
Evelyn, Minna and Alex all had swords from the Servants and the Fallen from the castle as well as their daggers. The weight of the sword wasn't familiar but it was a weapon and one she would use if she had to. They had no sheaths, so they carried them in their hands.
Leaving the plane behind, she fell in behind Minna on a thinner trail that forced them to walk single file. Christian brought up the rear and the Fallen took the lead.
Deeper and deeper, they wound and twisted along a path that followed the gently rolling terrain. Sometimes she had to duck out of the way of a branch or a cluster of leaves. Other times the foliage drew back from the foot trail enough for her to see for a quarter mile in any direction. Despite the way it seemed they worked inland, it was only an illusion; the gorge remained on their left, a steep cut through the earth giving way to a heavy flow of water at the base.
Forty-five minutes into the trek, Khyamaeus stopped. Turning around, he gestured them to gather closer. Once they made a tight knit circle, he bent his head and lowered his voice.
“We're about eighty yards from the temple. Expect anything and everything from here on in. There's no perimeter wall, only the four lookout towers I told you about on the plane. Once we breach the main entrance, it'll be open season. Keep the layout I described in mind. We need to pass through the temple and into the inner courtyard. That's where they're keepi
ng it.”
Evelyn watched Khyamaeus' eyes. Alert, sharp, he looked between them, holding their gazes for long seconds at a time.
Before landing, Khyamaeus had gathered them all around one of the tables and sketched a layout of the temple. The square structure had an enormous courtyard right in the middle of it, open to the sky, with statues and small bridges built around Koi ponds. He indicated the Seal would be on a throne made for the Emperor centuries ago, and had pointed out all the places the Fallen and their Servants could hide to attack from.
Too many places. Every building, every door, every manicured hedge could shield them from view.
“I'm going to get on the roof so I can shoot down into the courtyard. Keep going. I think they'll have the majority of their protection somewhere near the Seal, so you should be relatively safe until then,” he said.
“How many Fallen are we dealing with here?” Rhett asked. “There were two at the castle—will there be more than that?”
Khyamaeus twisted a look in the direction of the temple. “It's hard to say. We can block each other from knowing when one is close. I can't feel or sense any of them right now, and I've employed the same mechanism for me. Be prepared for two, but expect one.”
“What about the Servants?” Dracht asked.
“There are four that I know were coming with them. Expect at least that many.”
“Any other surprises?” Dragar inquired.
“Not that I can tell. Just take it one step at a time. The longer we stay out here, the more we put ourselves at risk. Let's go.” Khyamaeus made another round of eye contact before turning to lead them along the path.
Evelyn gripped the hilt of the sword, beginning her mental preparations for confrontation. She went over the floorplans in her mind, memorizing the basic layout so she knew where the likely spots were they'd hit trouble—if the Servants happened to be inside instead of in the courtyard.
The number of variables was staggering.
Twenty yards later, the Temple came into view. Red tiles trimmed in gold decorated the pointed roof. A broad breezeway ran the length of the building in the front, with archways lacking doors and windows without panes overlooking the landscape. Elaborate and secluded, the vibrant temple looked old but was obviously well cared for. The grounds immediately around it had been trimmed and clipped, forming a maze of paths aside a main cobbled walkway to the three steps leading in.
Breaking from the cover of the trees, Khyamaeus sprinted toward the temple.
Dragar, Dracht and Rhett burst into the open on his heels, charging along the cobbled walk toward the main building.
Minna diverted to the right on her own, vaulting up over the railing onto the breezeway that ran around the front and sides of the structure. Quick footed and sure of herself, she didn't miss a step.
Evelyn tried not to be distracted by the fact her sister deviated from the plan and followed Alexandra out of the foliage, running forward with Christian coming right after. She heard him suck in a breath when he saw Minna swerve off, and although the men in front must have seen it too, none of them deviated from the original course of action.
Just before Khyamaeus reached the steps, he vaulted into the air, a lunging jump from the ground to the roof that should have been an impossible feat. There was a whisper in the air around his shoulders, like the feathery flap of wings, but Evelyn saw nothing other than Khyamaeus and his armor. It was a sensation more than not, an invisible swish she couldn't attribute to someone dashing past leaves and trees.
Dragar took the steps in one running leap, agile for his age, and went in through the main archway crouched, sword at the ready. Dracht and Rhett followed in the same manner, going in quick, disappearing into the dimmer interior.
Cursing Minna under her breath, Evelyn jogged up the steps and followed Alexandra inside. Rhett was halfway across the room by then, sword and shield in place.
The cold, flat floor stretched out to either side of the archway, giving them a clear shot left and right through the spacious room. Built into the walls were niches that housed holy statuettes. Benches sat before each one under a towering ceiling engraved with scenes of battle.
Set against the farthest wall where another archway led out into the inner courtyard were stone serpents, scales covering the creatures snout to tail, their postures depicting them as guardians. Each one was easily as tall as she was.
Seeing no Servants, or any other creature that didn't belong, she crowded in behind Alex while Christian stayed behind her, covering the rear.
Dragar and Dracht stopped with their backs against the wall to assess the inner courtyard through an open door way.
Evelyn caught glimpses of a pristine garden setting, with carefully manicured hedges, small flowering shrubs and more benches lining walkways that meandered around fountains and ponds. Fish bobbed to the surface and disappeared, tails lashing the water. Heavy clouds rolled overhead, casting the scene into shades of gray. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, no movement, no surreptitious flickers.
Where were the Fallen? Or the Servants? It set her on edge when they weren't met with the same kind of resistance they found at the castle. On the plane, she'd given the compass back to Rhett, so she couldn't feel exactly where the Seal was.
Khyamaeus had said it would be here in the courtyard, and she believed him. So far, she didn't see it, but that didn't mean it wasn't here.
The way Dragar, Dracht and Rhett all paused made her think they were reassessing the situation, too. For all intents and purposes, it looked like they could just stroll on in, claim the Seal and leave.
Nothing was ever that easy.
Without a word between them, as if on some silent cue, Dragar, Dracht and Rhett crept forward into the courtyard. They spread out evenly, three or four feet between them, creeping instead of running.
Rhett made a gesture with his hand that told Evelyn he wanted her and Alexandra to stay there.
Maybe he and his brothers and father were trying to draw the Servants and the Fallen out.
The three Templars stalked over cobbled walkways, through the trimmed hedges and around fountains toward the gold throne.
Thunder cracked ominously through the sky, a portent that more storms were about to unleash upon the land.
Somewhere up on the roof, Khyamaeus waited with his lethal bows and arrows to down the Fallen and Minna...well she didn't know where Minna had gone. Christian crowded close to her back, a reassuring presence and Alex stood with her spine flush against the archway directly in front of her.
Time ticked by in silence, split only by the growling sky. Evelyn thought she preferred open aggression and in-your-face threats rather than this. Never would she have guessed she'd wish for confrontation.
But this eerie vacancy, this guesswork over what plots and plans the Fallen had put her on edge as much as facing off against a vicious enemy. She didn't like that Rhett and the others had to try and draw fire first.
From outside the courtyard, to the right of her position, Minna screamed.
†
Minna wasn't, and never had been, a screamer. It sent a jolt through Evelyn that she saw manifest in Alex as a twitch. They exchanged startled glances.
In the courtyard, Dragar cut away from the others, vaulting several bushes in the direction it came from.
Suddenly, everyone was moving.
Rhett and Dracht rushed forward on their different paths toward the gold throne; Alex burst from the archway onto a sidewalk running along the inside of the buildings, black hair streaming behind her. Christian cut away, back through the main room of the temple toward the front doors, apparently intending to go back around the way Minna had to help her confront her enemy.
Evelyn dashed forward into the courtyard, the sword heavy in her palm, ready to give Rhett and Dracht backup.
What she didn't expect, was the rise of a serpentine, black shape out of the garden to her right. Startled, she swung the sword automatically, bracing her feet apart, ref
using to give in to the abrupt, sick lurch of her stomach.
The black cobra, hood fanned out, veered back out of the way of her sword. It stood taller than she, its sleek, black body as thick as her calf.
It was huge.
Beady, black eyes and a flickering tongue added to its sinister qualities, and when it struck, it struck so fast that Evelyn didn't have time to react. While her arms were stretched to the left after the swing of the sword, the cobra attacked.
She had a glimpse of fangs like syringe needles and then she tumbled backward onto a hedge from the impact. The sword clanked out of her fingers onto the stone walk.
A slithery hiss echoed around her and only when she was flat on her back did she realize there wasn't just one cobra. Swaying reeds of black flashed up out of the courtyard, right up out of the ground it seemed, their hoods broad and their bodies poised to strike.
She expected to feel venom race like fire through her veins and begin its incapacitating ruination of her nervous system. A moment later she realized she didn't feel puncture wounds or the burning sensation of needle teeth in her skin.
And yet another moment beyond that, as the cobra slithered closer, it dawned on her that the armored shirt had saved her. The teeth hadn't sunk in; she'd gone flying back from the force of the hit, nothing more.
If the snake struck her legs in the spots her pants didn't have the same protection, all bets were off.
She rolled over and jumped to her feet, prepared to dash away from the looming snake, only to come eye to eye with another.
Its flickering tongue tickled her upper lip.
Instead of freezing, self preservation kicked in; her dagger lashed out sideways, straight through the air in front of her, palm gripping the hilt so hard her knuckles ached. It was her or the snake, life or death, succeed or fail.
The blade sliced through the heavy body even as the tongue flickered out again. Spinning on a foot, she struck out behind her, too, instinct warning her that the other cobra would take advantage of her distraction.
Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3) Page 60