With a new sense of urgency, Rook cut back down to a main avenue that led directly to the church. He instructed Ralf to wait outside as he snuck Adonael into the building through the rear, near the clergy’s rooms to avoid any who might be in the nave praying near the altar, which seemed to be quite busy this night.
It was strange, but Rook thought the people’s faith in the Sleeping Goddess had increased since the Priest, his Oracle and Sin Eaters were removed. In the ten-years he had lived in Narbereth he had never seen so many people at the church, either by day or by night. There was nobody to read passages from the bible to them and nobody to shout at them from the pulpit, just lots of silent prayer.
And Rook thought that maybe that was the way it was supposed to be, for everybody to find their strength in the Goddess on their own. He certainly had. He had not been to a service since he was a boy in Jerusa; since that day his mother was taken from him. He recalled the day he was in the church with Ursula and the strange, old man with the sword through his heart came to him. Rook had asked him how anybody could know what was right, when nobody could even read the bible. The old man had told him that the beautiful thing about good is that you don’t need books or gods to tell you what is right or wrong; that the Goddess had placed all that knowledge inside every man’s heart. Rook liked that, and he believed it more now than he ever had. The knights who had turned against King Dahnzeg proved it. People knew what was right. But like the old man had also told him, sometimes good just needs a person brave enough to hold a light to evil.
In that Rook wasn’t sure he was the right man. Despite all that had happened and all that he had helped accomplish, he didn’t know if he could sustain holding that light. And besides, the light he held was tainted by the fires of Bulifer. That much had also been proven to him. Rook wasn’t exactly sure what the demon had in store for him, but he knew enough to know that it wouldn’t be for his benefit. Could he really be a hero if he was destined to help a villain? Rook often wished he could hold a light to his own self, but deep inside he was terrified of what lurked in the shadows. And chief among those frightening shadows was his sister, Ursula, who he had failed to protect. But he couldn’t think of that right now, so he pushed it aside.
Instead, Rook found himself wondering if Saints were given a heart that knew right and wrong. He had seen the terrible things Saints do to people. He had witnessed them slaughter an entire town as if its people were nothing but rats to be exterminated. Still, he couldn’t deny that not all were like that. Despite the briefness of their relationship, Rook knew that Karinael had been a good, loving person. Ertrael was friendly and kind. Karinael and her fellow Saints had even helped Gabidar deliver his shipments of food into Jerusa.
Yet, Hadraniel and these other Saints were still a mystery to him. They avoided everybody in town, including Ertrael. Karinael, more than any of them, had been the one to orchestrate the shipments with Gabidar. Without Karinael, Rook wondered if they’d all go back to doing what they did best? It was revenge, after all, that had brought them here in search of Ovid, rather than heading to Duroton as Karinael wanted. And he was reminded that Hadraniel himself had been one of the Saints he had witnessed slaughter an entire city with the help of the very Saint he was now escorting. He half feared what they might be up to. Despite having saved them from Ovid, he really didn’t know any of them very well. He didn’t even know if they still planned on going to Duroton, though part of him was curious about their mission there. More than curious, actually. Ever since he met Diotus, Duroton had been a subject of interest to him. A thought crossed his mind that he might even want to go with them.
But that suddenly made him feel selfish. Finding Ursula should be his priority. Finding his sister should come even before Free Narbereth. And now that he knew she was somewhere in Valdasia, could he really stay here? Another thought crossed his mind: perhaps he was slowly pushing Kierza, Sierla and Callad away because he knew his time in Narbereth was coming to an end. Now those frightening shadows were getting some light again and he pushed the thoughts away.
Rook led Adonael through the stone halls and to the church’s meeting room where Hadraniel and the other Saints often spent their time. As he neared the closed door he could hear them laughing. A brief image played upon his mind of him going into the room to find them torturing somebody, making a game of carving them up, piece by piece. They could be doing any number of vile things. Vile things were what Saints were known for. Steeling himself, Rook knocked on the door and entered.
It was a large chamber with a polished table down its center and a great fireplace at the far end. It was lit by numerous gaslamps on the wall, and though there were stained glass windows at one end, the Saints had broken out the glass on the face of Holy Father Admael and any that depicted an Oracle or Sin Eater. To Rook’s relief, the Saints were seated at the table, playing cards and drinking wine. Asteroth sat reclined at the head of the table, his feet up and resting on it as he held some cards in one hand and a chalice of wine in another. To either side of him sat Cabiel, Loganiel and Sodiel. Sodiel was laughing at something with Cabiel and Loganiel, but Raziel was further down the table sulking alone with a couple empty wine bottles on the floor beneath his chair and another one tipped over on the table beside him. They all stopped and their voices went silent as Rook entered, followed by Adonael.
“Adonael?” Sodiel stood up, followed by the rest.
Adonael nodded. His eyes fixed past them to a dark corner of the room. There, Rook saw the silver-haired Saint, Hadraniel, passed out on the floor. Beside him Rook could see an injector and a half-empty vial of clear liquid. It was that drug he had seen him taking before. Adonael turned his eyes back to the other Saints. “Hadraniel’s burns look terrible. Is he back to doing Ev?”
“We’ve all been through a lot, recently.” said Sodiel. “He’s coping the best he can.” Beside him stood Raziel and Rook thought he saw a flicker of anger in the Saint’s crimson eyes.
Adonael seemed to think better of his words and apologized, saying he had heard rumors of Hadraniel’s and Karinael’s encounter with Ithuriel. Then he said, “I also heard rumor that I might find you all here, though your numbers are fewer than what left Jerusa. I am sorry to have heard about Karinael. The news of her death is new to me.” He looked at Raziel. “And I am sorry about Gadrial. I found her bodysuit upon the river’s shore. I buried it beneath a peaceful willow for you.”
Rook saw Raziel’s hands ball up into fists. Asteroth placed a hand on the Saint’s chest and then stepped forward. “Why do you come now?” asked Asteroth. “Why did you not come with Erygion? If you had, perhaps our numbers would be whole.”
Adonael bent his head. “I haven’t come to discuss my actions,” he said. “I am given to Titan Mammoth and my time here is very short. I’ve come to tell you that you’re all in danger.”
“Danger from who?” asked Asteroth. “Sanctuary?”
“That would be the least of it.” said Adonael. “King Gatima’s Exalteds march on Narbereth as we speak.”
Cabiel snickered. “Sanctuary knows they can’t recall their Saints. They don’t want word getting out so they’re having Gatima do their work.”
“No.” said Adonael. “Gatima’s Exalteds come to take these lands for Gatima.”
The other Saints all looked at each other. “You mean to say Gatima betrays Sanctuary?” asked Sodiel.
Adonael nodded. “Queen Lustille and her Exalteds, the Viragos, came before Gatima to seek aid. Gatima had them killed, as well as an Oracle from Sanctuary.”
“That means Narbereth truly is ours,” said Rook, mostly to himself. “We really have taken this country.”
Adonael looked at him. “You have taken nothing. Gatima will take these lands. Count them his already.”
Rook turned his eyes to the Saint. He felt the Golothic burning in his pocket. Pent-up anger and hatred from his childhood began to bubble to the surf
ace, manifesting in his voice, “It is Gatima who has taken nothing. We have taken these lands, and we will keep these lands.”
Adonael sneered. “I’ll give you people due respect for what you have done thus far, but you will not defeat Gatima. He is ancient. He is a King of Kings. His Exalteds are more terrible than your imagination can allow for. Goliath Minotaur shall tear your walls from their foundations. Titan Mammoth will grind you to dust beneath his feet. And what they leave behind, Colossus Dragon shall reduce to burnt offerings in the name of Gatima, the King of Kings.” Adonael held Rook with his gaze for a moment. Then he said, “Where is Ertrael? You told me my old apprentice was here as well.”
Raziel smirked. “He stays with that one and his parents.”
“I can bring him, if you like.” said Rook, trying to cool his anger. Being dismissed so openly by Adonael had stirred some bitterness in him, but he’d be lying if he said that Adonael’s words hadn’t cast some doubts about his ability to defend this city.
Adonael nodded. “Bring him. I would like to speak with him before I leave.”
Rook nodded. Before he could take his leave he heard Ralf’s panicked shouts. “Rook! Rook!” he could hear Ralf screaming. “Rook!”
The Saints all looked at Rook. Rook sighed. “I’ll see what the matter is.” He turned his eyes to Adonael. “I’ll bring Saint Ertrael by shortly.”
“With haste.” said Adonael. “My time here is short.”
Rook nodded and then slipped out of the chamber.
“Why does Ertrael not stay here with his fellow Saints?” asked Adonael.
“He’s taken a liking to Rook and his family.” said Raziel with some disgust. “If not for him, perhaps Ovid’s head would have been mine.”
“It’s not his fault.” said Sodiel.
Raziel’s eyes narrowed. He stared at Sodiel. “If not for him splitting our numbers, maybe we could have taken Nuriel and Karinael would still be alive.”
“Enough.” said Asteroth.
In the background Saint Sodiel seemed to take notice of something unseen. His head cocked to the side, as if listening. Then he came forward. “You said you were given to Titan Mammoth.” Sodiel’s hand went to his bo-staff. “And you seem to speak highly of Gatima, though you know Sanctuary holds no sway over you. Tell me again why you are here, exactly?”
At once the other Saints all seemed to be on edge. Asteroth began looking around the room. Hands went for weapons.
“He means to betray us!” shouted Asteroth, grabbing his axes.
Adonael looked at them, “What?”
Asteroth moved in on Adonael.
“Wait!” yelled Sodiel. “It’s not him! There’s something in the church!”
Heads turned to Sodiel.
“We need to get out!” yelled Sodiel, but already he knew it was too late, and now Asteroth and Raziel sensed the same thing.
And then blinding white light and fire filled their vision.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
“You have to reach to me, Hadraniel.” whispered Karinael.
Hot tears rolled from Hadraniel’s eyes as he clutched Karinael’s limp body in his arms. He shook his head.
“You have to reach for me.” she whispered again, but her voice was not from her body. It came from somewhere in the fog that surrounded Hadraniel.
“But I’m holding you.” sobbed Hadraniel. “I’m holding on to you.”
“That’s not me.” said Karinael’s voice from the obscure bleakness.
“Yes it is.” said Hadraniel. He sniffled and brushed his hand through her long hair of crystalline amber.
“Look up and reach to me.” she said.
“I… I can’t.” He started rocking on his knees as he held Karinael’s body to his own. He knew that if he looked up he would see Nuriel’s eyes burning like golden embers in the mist. He also knew that to look away from her was to risk losing her again. If he closed his eyes or looked away, her armor would empty in his hands. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, Karin.”
“I never left you.” said Karinael. “Reach out to me and you’ll feel me again.”
Hadraniel was wracked by sobs as he clutched her possessively to his breast. “I can feel you now. I want to stay like this.”
“That’s not me. You have to reach.”
“I… I don’t want to.”
“Close your eyes, Hadi. Close your eyes.”
Hadraniel clenched his eyes shut, squeezing tears from them.
“Now open your eyes. Let all that you’re holding go, and reach to me here.”
Hadraniel shook his head. “No. You’ll be gone.”
“You must hurry.”
“I can’t. I can’t lose you again.”
“Let it go, Hadi. Stop clinging to my death and reach for me. Reach for me and I can live again in your heart.”
Hadraniel sobbed as he cracked his eyes open. He was only holding Karinael’s empty armor, her bodysuit limp and draped over his legs. “No! No! Don’t leave!”
“Reach to me.”
“I… I don’t want to.”
“Don’t be afraid of her.”
Hadraniel lifted his head. He saw those burning, golden eyes menacing him from the mist.
“Reach to me. You must hurry.”
Beyond the shroud of fog Hadraniel saw Karinael. She stood upon the fringes of the murky reality, her form dusted in a light that softened the form of her body into a hazy creation of Caliber energy. Behind her was a young Saint he didn’t know. She had the richest crimson hair and eyes he had ever seen and she wore the steel armor of a Templar, not the Star-Armor of a Saints Caliber. She was shy, hiding behind Karinael, but holding her hand. It was her Caliber, not Karin’s, that encompassed them. “K-Karin…”
She smiled. “Reach to me.”
Hadraniel stood up. Nuriel moved in on him, fixing him with her molten, hateful eyes. Hadraniel hesitated.
“Reach. Quickly.”
Slowly, Hadraniel extended his hand. Nuriel drew her claymore and flourished it.
“Hurry, you must reach to me.”
Hadraniel stepped forward. Nuriel growled and swung at him with her claymore, but it passed through his body.
“Reach!”
Hadraniel moved his arm out, and felt himself sucked away into a blinding, white light. “Karin! Karin! Where are you?!”
“Among the heavens where my Caliber has always been.”
Hadraniel felt a terrible heat course through his body. He closed his eyes, yet still the white light was blinding. He felt energy drifting from his eyes and hands; felt as though his body would be torn apart. “Karin!”
He felt soft lips upon his forehead. “Protect them all. And then go to Duroton.”
Hadraniel screamed as he felt the very fibers of his body tearing apart.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Thunder, louder than Kierza had ever heard, rocked the house and she shot up in bed. Ertrael sat up too, and Tomas, Jocab and Galen all started crying. Dust and loose thatch fell from the ceiling above.
“What was that?” Kierza’s hand went to her chest. She was trembling.
Ertrael looked to the window and pushed his way past Kierza. He threw the curtains open. Down in the city a ball of fire rose and distant screams floated on the winds.
Kierza ran to Ertrael’s side, watching as the fireball crawled its way into the night sky, lighting up the city. “Stars above,” she breathed. “What happened?”
Callad burst through the doors with Sierla. “Where’s Rook?”
Kierza and Ertrael looked back out the window, neither of them daring to speculate.
Sierla quickly got the boys out of bed and gathered them to her. “There now, little ones.” she cooed as they cried into her bosom. “Everything
will be all right.”
Kierza looked up at Ertrael. “You… you don’t think Rook…”
Ertrael raced from the room, pushing aside Callad. Like a comet trailing white light, he tore down the hill and into the city, bounding over walls and buildings as he headed toward the church. Everywhere people were running and screaming. As he neared the avenue that led toward the church Ertrael saw a cloud of thick, powdery dust pouring down the street. He slowed his pace to a walk and cupped a hand over his mouth as the cloud rolled over him. It smelled of brick and stone and smoke. He coughed. Through the cloud a dozen or more dark shadows hobbled toward him and Ertrael heard a child screaming and a woman sobbing. He stopped and watched as the group of bloodied people passed him.
Ertrael looked down the avenue. The dust cloud began to thin, and through it he now saw fires burning. Slowly, he walked forward. Ragged, shadowy forms came into view. They were like giant, crooked teeth standing hither and thither, and as Ertrael moved his way past the dust, he realized he was staring at what remained of the church. Rubble burned everywhere. Fragments of wall leaned at precarious angles. One of the church’s spires lay upon the ground, its shingles ablaze. The road was scorched all around the perimeter and the surrounding buildings were missing great pieces of their walls. A few had their roofs smashed where the church’s high steeples had fallen in on them. One of the buildings began to crumble and collapse even as Ertrael watched. There was nothing left. The church was gone. Somewhere a woman screamed. A child wailed. A man moaned.
It took Ertrael a moment to process it all; to remember that this was the church where Hadraniel, Asteroth, Sodiel, Cabiel and Loganiel were. As Ertrael stared at the disaster before him, something across the street caught his eye. In the shadows of an alley stood the dark forms of many men. An orange ember burned bright for a moment, and in its light Ertrael caught a glimpse of Grandon’s face. He watched as the man flicked his cigar to the street, and then turned and disappeared into the alley.
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