The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

by Cael McIntosh

  34. Howl, ye shepherds, and cry; and wallow yourselves in the ashes, ye leaders of the nations; for the days of your slaughter and of your dispersions are accomplished, and ye shall fall like a pleasant vessel.

  35. And the shepherds shall have no way to flee, nor the leaders of the nation to escape.

  36. A voice of the cry of the shepherds, and a howling of the leaders of the nations shall be heard; for the Lord hath despoiled their pasture.

  37. And the peaceable habitations are cut down because of the fierce anger of the Lord.

  38. He hath forsaken His covert as the lion; for their land is desolate because of the fierceness of the Oppressor, and because of His fierce anger.

  Scriptures of the Holy Tome

  CHAPTER Four

  The other side of you

  The carriage bounced dangerously along the paved road. A single rock or chipped paver would send them flying, but the alternative fate was far worse. Seteal glanced over her shoulder and what she saw caused her heart to increase its rhythm. 'Go faster,' Father Marcel's shaky old voice cried fearfully.

  'I can't,' Seteal replied, whipping the horse repeatedly. 'Hold on,' she cried out as a mutant beast leapt onto the carriage from behind. Seteal turned around awkwardly, putting her knees on the seat to face the drooling creature, which itself looked to have once been a horse. The creature had jagged teeth, and razor-sharp claws where its hooves had once been. 'Get off.' Seteal threw out her hands, but nothing happened. There was no hot blast of energy, no mysterious power. Nothing.

  The beast lunged as the carriage hit a rock and the whole thing began to totter. Seteal screamed as the animal's teeth locked onto her arm and blood splattered the pavement. Together they hit the road and tumbled over and over each other. When they came to a stop, Seteal found herself on top of the whinnying monster. With blind fury and the churning Ways empowering her, she put her free hand against the creature's skull and pinned it to the road. The Ways squeezed through reality and coiled around her muscles. The skull cracked like an egg and Seteal's hand plunged into the creature's brain.

  Marcel leapt out of the wagon and started running. 'The box,' Seteal said to nobody as she raced around to the side. The other monsters were not far behind, but that was not what bothered her. Parrowun's white naked body lay sprawled out on the pavement, the crate having fallen open.

  Seteal put a trembling hand over her mouth and stared at the child in shock as the monsters bore down. 'Hurry,' Seeol said from his place perched on the upturned box.

  'This is your fault,' Seteal cried. 'You brought them to us.'

  'I'd never!' Seeol's facial feathers flared defensively, his head moving sharply from side to side.

  Seteal picked up Parrowun, shuddered at the touch of his cold flesh and put him back inside the box. Seeol fluttered his wings, but was too weak to fly. 'I'm sorry,' Seteal whispered to the bird as the monsters pounced, 'but if we're going down, you're coming with us.' She snatched the protesting owl off the road, threw him into the box with Parrowun and slammed down the lid.

  'Let me out!' Seeol shrieked again and again as Seteal put the box down and sat on top of it, monsters crashing down around her. She snapped out of her body and fell into the Ways. She lunged at the monsters, seeking to sever them from existence, but so insulted were the Ways by their presence that they failed even to acknowledge them.

  Darkness twisted like a frustrated hurricane around the box imprisoning Seeol. Would whisp-mutated animals destroy one of their own? As it turned out, they absolutely would. Seteal just hadn't expected Seeol to be the monster that won. His darkness spilled toward the discarded pistol by the carriage and miraculously the weapon accidentally fired when a monster's toe hit the trigger. The bullet seared through the air and struck the carriage's axel, which created a spark. The spark set fire to the wooden underside and a furious breeze proceeded to spread it. This all happened so quickly that the lunging creatures had no time to react.

  The carriage was engulfed in flames that leapt away to surround the box in a circular fashion, doing so by leaping between the monsters that'd been closest and taking its fiery strength from the burning of their bodies. Moments later the flames spread faster and faster, burning feathers and fur and hair and flesh. The monsters screamed, having lost interest in Seteal. One by one the hundreds of deformed creatures fell to the roadside shrieking or roaring in their sufferance.

  Seteal gazed over her body where it lay, having toppled to the ground. The woman seemed peaceful, mother and child joined together in eternal slumber. The bird scratched repeatedly at the inside of the box, an annoyance to Seteal. Still, the woman seemed peaceful as flames danced ever closer, threatening to incinerate her. The time had come, her spirit mused.

  'I shall be free,' Seteal's lips whispered as her spirit twisted and churned.

  The canvas became her companion. Eternity was her only limit. The spirit of Seteal dissolved, drinking into everything. And the scratching sound screamed in her ears. That patch of wicked darkness was an affront to her son's body. Seteal howled, compacted together and sucked down into the miniscule confines of human flesh. Her soul was raped and torn a million times as she again had to suffer the desecration of her body.

  Seteal picked up the box and dodged between stumbling, burning creatures. She realised then the true extent of the horrific, brooding power burning within the fragile form of the elf owl she carried.

  'Please!' Seeol shrieked. 'He's dead. It's yucky.'

  Seteal removed the bird and put him back in her pocket. It wasn't so much an act of mercy as it was one of selfish motivation, she no longer being comfortable with Seeol that close to her dead son.

  'Young lady,' Father Marcel hissed from his hiding place around the corner of a small building further up the road.

  'Eltari,' she replied as she got closer. 'Come on. We'd best get out of here before more of those things appear.

  'Miss Eltari,' Marcel began slowly, 'I don't think it's those particular monsters you need to be worried about.'

  'What?' Seteal murmured, turning her head to follow his gaze. The southern sky was filled with demons on a direct path for Beldin. 'All the more reason to hurry,' she said shakily, picking up her pace down the street.

  *

  Muscles contracted, inducing an involuntary action as an almost silent brain fired a command in a finalistic effort to remain alive. His throat reacted by gagging and coughing. Someone put him on his side and hot fluid rushed from his mouth and fell away from blue lips. His eyes opened only to relay confusing information. Framed by wet black hair, El-i-miir's beautiful face hovered above him, fear in her eyes. Ilgrin remembered who he was but failed to find the time to appreciate it before again losing consciousness.

  When Ilgrin woke for a second time, it was to the smell of smoke and the sensation of warmth on his skin. His first thoughts were vivid memories granted him during recent sufferings in Hel. But he wasn't in Hel anymore. Ilgrin moaned as he rolled toward the smell and found Teah sitting quietly on the opposite side of a small fire.

  'You're not El-i-miir,' he said through a scratchy throat.

  'Sorry to disappoint.'

  'You saved my life,' Ilgrin said gratefully. 'Thank you.'

  'I've also patched up your wing.' Teah nodded.

  'What?' Ilgrin weakly lifted his wing and examined the angel's fine stitching.

  'But don't even think about flying,' she warned. 'A single beat of those wings and you'll tear it open.'

  'I have to find El-i-miir.' Ilgrin sat up slowly. Every movement was excruciating.

  'Do you have any idea how far you fell?' Teah shook her head irritably. 'It can't have been any less than two hundred strides. Any higher and the impact would've killed you before drowning could've done the job.'

  'Believe me, I know.' Ilgrin gasped in response to the pain radiating from every muscle in his body.

  'Anyway,' Teah grumbled. 'You know I can't heal or else I'd have done so, but at least I can feed you. Here.'
She tossed him some cooked fish.

  'How'd you . . . ?' Ilgrin trailed off.

  'You know how angels kill.' Teah shrugged. 'Now eat. You need to get your strength back.'

  'What I need is to find El-i-miir,' Ilgrin said before taking a bite.

  'All right.' Teah sighed. 'Off you go, then.'

  'I can't,' Ilgrin mumbled after a few miserable seconds arguing with his muscles. 'How'd you find me?'

  'We were supposed to meet by the waterfall,' Teah reminded him. 'I was upholding my side of the agreement when I saw you hit the river right in front of me. I can't tell you how scared I was. I couldn't stand it if--' She cut herself short and looked away. 'Whatever. I swam down, pulled you out, and did everything I could to make you breathe.'

  'How come your clothes aren't wet?' Ilgrin asked purely out of curiosity, as he examined her black dress.

  'Does it matter?'

  'I guess not.'

  'I had to take it off,' Teah snapped. 'We'd have both drowned otherwise.'

  'Sorry,' Ilgrin said, having succeeded in causing both of them to blush.

  Silence endured while they ate before finally Teah decided to break it. 'Tell me about your family.'

  'My family?' Ilgrin jolted. 'Why?'

  'Because we're going to be stuck here for the night and I'm bored.'

  'I think you know most of it.' Ilgrin shrugged. 'My mother was the She Devil and my father--'

  'I didn't ask about Sa'Enoch's family,' Tea cut him off. 'I want to know about Ilgrin Geld.'

  'I see.' Ilgrin bit his lip. 'It's kind of hard. I don't have any siblings and my mother and father . . . well, they're no longer around.'

  'I'm sorry.' Teah moved closer and rested her hand on Ilgrin's thigh.

  'Mom used to make these ridiculous shoes for me.' Ilgrin's tone was melancholy. 'I complained endlessly. They were almost as long at the back as they were in the front. Looking back, it's a bit of mystery how I got away with it for so long, especially once I'd reached my full height. I mean, there I was in an oversized black coat, seemingly with a massive growth on my back, and with shoes that went backwards as well as forwards.'

  'People don't always see what they don't expect to be there,' Teah agreed, moving her hand a little farther up Ilgrin's leg.

  'It's not just that. I used to have a book of mythical creatures. There were trolls, elves, dwarfs, and all the other regulars, but it also had a section on demons.'

  'You're joking.'

  'Nope.' Ilgrin shrugged, only to wince in pain after doing so. 'The illustration didn't look anything like us.'

  'Well, the southern skies weren't always so dark . . .' Teah frowned. 'There was once a time when we had plenty of unpolluted land. We stuck to ourselves and after a few centuries, I suppose the northern countries started to forget about us.'

  'Still, I can't believe I took the risk of mingling with so many humans.' Ilgrin sighed. 'I think I must've been in denial.'

  'Denial?'

  'Yeah.' Ilgrin gazed into the fire. 'I thought I was human and I wanted to believe that it wasn't as risky as my parents made out. I dreamt that maybe my cloak would slip off and I'd be discovered, but everything would be okay. At first people would be a little shocked, but they'd soon come to accept me.'

  'I see.'

  'Don't worry. I know I was deluding myself,' Ilgrin said sadly, 'just like I did again when we took over Kintor. They'll never accept us and we'll never all live in harmony, will we?'

  'I don't think we will.' Teah put her hand in Ilgrin's lap.

  'Stop it, Teah,' he said awkwardly.

  'What?'

  'I know what you're doing.' He lifted her delicate bluish-white hand and put it back in her lap.

  'For Maker's sake,' Teah snapped and moved away. 'This is about that human, isn't it?'

  'Yes.' Ilgrin felt his face becoming hot. The way Teah said it made him feel like he should be embarrassed by the fact, which he kind of was. 'I know it sounds stupid to you, but we had a relationship and it wouldn't be fair to El-i-miir if we didn't see whether it could be fixed.'

  'Oh, my Maker! Did you have sex with it?' Teah put a hand to her mouth.

  'Yes,' he replied sheepishly.

  'You may as well have done so with a dog.' Teah recoiled in disgust. 'Or a cow. Or a goat. And then you had sex with me? That's disgusting.'

  'You know what?' Ilgrin snapped. 'Of all people, I expected you would stand against discrimination.'

  'No, don't you even dare compare this to the angel hunts.' Teah shook her head in disbelief. 'We were hunted down and slayed like animals, but we're still silts just like you.'

  'So it's okay to slay humans like animals?'

  'I didn't say that,' Teah replied curtly, 'but thanks to you and the little stunt you played outside of Belos, Noah's back in power and the angel hunts will resume.'

  'I'm sorry you feel that way. But I just don't see human life as being so inferior that I should ignore their deaths.'

  'I didn't say that,' Teah said stuffily, 'but you can't honestly put them in the same league as us.'

  'I can't believe I'm hearing this.' Ilgrin put a shaking hand to his forehead. 'It's like everyone has gone insane.'

  'Hey,' Teah muttered, 'you said it yourself, they'll never accept us and we'll never live in harmony. How can you possibly think that El-i-miir and you would be the only exception?'

  'Because I love her,' Ilgrin said in an unexpected burst of devotion.

  'Well, you'd better learn not to really quickly,' Teah lowered her voice. 'Prophesy has been fulfilled. The Holy Spirit has come to reopen the gates of Hae'Evun just as the Elglair prophets wrote so long ago. Angels and demons . . . you and me . . . soon enough we'll be going back to Hae'Evun.'

  CHAPTER Five

  silly stories

  When El-i-miir awoke, she discovered that her dress had been removed and someone had clothed her in a baggy shirt and pair of pants. There was a bandage wrapped tightly around the lower part of her chest and a soft pillow had been placed beneath her head. She threw aside the blankets and sat up, but immediately regretted having done so on account of the pain it caused her.

  The room was not overly spacious and the door was locked, but it didn't seem like a typical prison. Plenty of the items around the room could've easily been used as weapons: candlesticks, brooms, glasses, books. Clearly the place was designated for storage. It smelt musty enough for it. El-i-miir closed her eyes in an attempt to better clear her mind and access the situation.

  When she opened them, she began tracing the Ways around the room to decipher the complex web of energy surrounding her. There was a messy stain that trailed back and forth over the floorboards countless times before it finally left the room, but it was slowly beginning to fade. Someone had been pacing by the bed, but hadn't returned in some time. Had they feared her or been trying to protect her? El-i-miir forced her aura to concentrate at the tip of her finger--as she'd developed the bad habit of doing so--and carefully guided a strand of it into the space beyond.

  The tendril of light writhed through the air and became one with the energy that'd paced so restlessly. It recoiled and vanished in reflection of El-i-miir's surprise. The person had been both fearful and protective. The pacer was an older man--although not by Elglair standards, of course. He was not the shooter, but he knew who was and was fearful the shooter was soon to become guilty of murder.

  El-i-miir lifted her shirt and examined the bandage. Blood had stained through the material, but not as much as she'd feared. The man had left a few hours earlier, feeling relieved. He'd recognised that El-i-miir had come through the worst of it. Her fever had subsided. Fever? El-i-miir examined the tattered ends of her own strands of time into the past. She'd been there for a long time, perhaps even days.

  Moving away from the bed, El-i-miir put her hand on the wall and opened herself up to the house. Ordinarily three people lived there. One of them was the shooter. But many more people than that had been frequenting the premises since El
-i-miir's arrival. The local doctor had been the first to arrive. El-i-miir got up and banged her fist against the door and called out for her release. Then she waited, her Way readied for affiliation.

  The older man who'd been pacing when El-i-miir was unconscious opened the door, only to stumble backward with an expression of disbelief. 'You're Elglair.'

  'I am,' El-i-miir replied, examining the man's nervous aura. 'Do you mean me harm?'

  'No,' he said without causing a single ripple across the lustre of his honesty.

  'Good. I have to go,' she murmured, limping passed him and entering into a small kitchen. A heavily muscled younger man sat at a large table. He was at least two stridestall, but the expression on his face reduced his stature markedly. El-i-miir didn't even need the Ways to recognise him as her attacker. 'You shot me.'

  'I'm sorry.' The big man got quickly to his feet. 'I thought you were the silt.'

  'How could you possibly . . . ?' El-i-miir trailed off, breathing slowly in her efforts to supress a stab of pain in her side. 'Does it look like I have wings?' She put a hand on the table to stabilise herself.

  'Forgive Divad,' the older gentleman implored. 'He was as jumpy as a hare that day. We know the demon legions have invaded Beldin. It's only a matter of time before they branch out to smaller villages such as ours,' he said sadly, before his expression changed to one of curiosity. 'May I enquire as to your name?'

  'It's irrelevant,' El-i-miir said irritably, more focused on trying to ignore the spots dancing across her vision. 'I have to find . . .' She stumbled a few steps and knocked over a chair. The young man threw an arm around her and lowered her gently to the floor. 'The silt. Did they get him?'

  'You have nothing to fear.' The old man put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 'We got him.'

  'Oh.' El-i-miir sighed, a tear trickling down her cheek as she lost consciousness.

  *

  Seteal had been less fortunate the second time around, finding only a small two-seated buggy rather than the well-built carriage they'd had previously. Nevertheless, she and Father Marcel were comfortable and the solitary horse was willing to follow their commands.