To Tara Kay She said, As to the matter of your birthmark...It is my fault that your Guardian has no way to properly claim you. What I have taken, I can return. At that a single ruddy golden tear fell from her eye. She caught it in a tendril of hair, a thread of fire, a coil of heat. She held out the gift to the Oldest.
Oren shook his head. “I would serve your vessel.” It was never for him to choose though he would have chosen Tara Kay given the opportunity.
The ground under Kay's feet moved her towards Kiyahwe. A wind carried the birthright until it came to rest like a necklace in the hollow between Kay's clavicles. Kay's silent scream rumbled beneath them. The smell of cooking flesh filled the air as the lava gem burned through Kay's flesh. Even after seated, it did not cool. It flowed and rippled.
I am afraid my mark is a burden but it carries a benefit just as heavy. You carry a bit of me within you. A bit of Kiyahwe will give you an advantage in your battle with the Shinar. It will mark you as claimed. Your blood cannot be used to make another DakuAhu. You will not be cursed to live as a danger to your own kind.
Tara Kay blinked and Kiyahwe cooled. Her molten body began to solidify. A volcanic statue stood before them, forever frozen in Her image. I am not your only hope. There are others who can repair cuts in the veil between this world and that of the Shinar.
“Who? Where are they?” Tara Kay blurted out.
Kiyahwe's voice was dim now, like she was talking through a long cave. I cannot see them. Shielding is their natural gift. She was gone.
***
The halfbreed whose gift was shielding watched as the First and Kiyahwe's vessel left the site he had so carefully arranged. Their Nephilim followed behind them. One carried the holy mother. He laughed, the sound like a cheese grater to a man's skin. Fox, his last remaining vrykolak, took two steps away. Even his child, so vicious as to think nothing of tearing apart the women the Paion had killed, feared him and rightfully so. His appearance was frightening and he had a mean streak to match.
He was tall, built like a brick wall. A hairy brick wall. His complexion could only be described as ruddy, probably from the massive amount of blood he consumed. Large bat-like wings, tattered and torn, at least twelve foot in wing-span, extended from behind his shoulders. His face was that of a dog, distorted, jaw and lips elongated into a muzzle, teeth stained brown. Most disturbing were his eyes. When he got angry, as he was now, they went totally red, lid to lid and corner to corner. No pupil or iris, they were completely alien with their slight glow.
He held this form at all times. His shield made it impossible for Nephilim to sense him, and difficult for Annu to give them his exact location. He had no reason to hide. He was careful to hover a few inches off of the ground. He couldn't risk making contact with Ki.
He made that sound again deep in his throat. It wasn't an amused laugh. It was frustration. Anger. Determination. He needed to get his hands on the other shield maker. She was his. She lived with the Daughters. Her shield protected them. Even he could not cross if she didn't want him too.
He had hoped they would bring her here. If they had, he would have taken her. He'd watched the whole thing, from the Oldest's rising to Kiyahwe's manifestation, but she'd never come. It was a set back, nothing more.
He leaned over and took his vrykolak by the nape of it's neck with his teeth. He carried his child like a wolf moving her pups. Like a pup, the hold forced the were to relax. It did not struggle. It hung there. With one strong beat of his wings, they were flying.
The Shinar were able to open the veil. There were numerous sites where the veil was thinned by blood or weakened by violence. That was one thing about humans. There was no shortage of atrocities, the magnitude of which could be used by the Shinar. He just had to find one and wait. They would bring him what he desired.
***
The being who was William Cunningham before being torn in half, tested his new legs. Near weightless, they made him fast and strong and whole again. The Shinar, though they insisted he not use that name in their presence, had miraculous powers. They were God. Maybe they weren't exactly the Trinity of the bible, but they were the real deal. The bible was filtered through the limited minds of humans, after all. There were bound to be some inaccuracies.
Those Who See and Observe, who refused to take names, Shinar or otherwise, had cared for Will after saving him from the earth witch. So powerful was Tara Kay that Will, in his human life, had thought he loved her. He knew better now. She was demon. Or if not by that name, she was at least the enemy of God, so what did that make her?
Will was now the chosen vessel for Those Who See and Observe. He could open the veil to let them through. He could wield the dagger for them. Once he stained it with the blood of an unclaimed Sinnis, it would be a weapon to match him: unstoppable.
He looked around what seemed to be a nursery. A nursery with walls made of rough cut stones, no less. The arches and heavy wooden doors with rounded tops screamed catholic mission. He was here to kill Ishtar, the One the humans would worship and the Shinar feared so much. Luckily she was housed where the veil was thin enough that a human could be pushed through. Those Who See and Observe could not come through here. The blood shed had not been the right kind or in high enough levels, though the blood of the First had almost done it. In addition to that, the shield maker was here. She could easily repair the veil and once that was done, this portal would be dead. The Shinar used it sparingly. Will knew he was the second man to be pushed through.
They had told him that time passed differently in their realm. He didn't know how long it had been on earth while he was with the Shinar. He didn't know where he was but the warm air coming through the window told him it was summer. He approached the bed. They hadn't told him Ishtar would be so small. He should just stab through the small covered mound but he needed to see. He pulled down the sheet.
It was just a toddler. Two years old, maybe three. The letters above her bed said her name was Genevieve. Will lifted the dagger, ready to murder an innocent and then something happened. He couldn't kill her. He wanted to leave, to run, to never look back. The dagger did not want that. It had a way of getting what it wanted. His arm lashed out slicing through the tiny palm resting on the mattress over her dark haired head.
She screamed.
Will stared at her, at the red that coated the dagger's edge and the red that soaked her blankets. They were an odd texture. The plain unbleached cotton threads, hand woven into a simple fabric seemed out of place in the modern world. Then again, everything in this nursery seemed out of place between the ancient stone walls.
He felt the pull and disappeared back into the tear in the veil he had come through. He was back with Those Who See and Observe, all thoughts of her gone. He hadn't killed her but the dagger was coated. It was now a DakuAhu. The Shinar would be happy enough that it could be used to kill the halfbreeds.
Thank you for reading book 4 of the Sinnis Series. Please drop me a note on facebook (Author Natalie Gibson) and check to see if my website (ishtarbooks.com) is up yet. And if you enjoyed the book, please leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or anywhere else people go to talk books.
Book 5 is Veil of Ishtar and centers around Christy (the girl with the newfound shielding ability), Ini-herit (the Nephilim who's too attractive for his own good) and one really scary Akhkharu who is impossible to track, much less kill. He just happens to be fixated on Christy. I can't give you an sample chapter because the book isn't written yet. I hope to have it ready before the end of 2012.
Look for my first horror novel, Carrier, in its entirety September 2012.
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Ishtar Rising (a book of Sinnis) Page 19