## Book Three

### The Inner Circle

The Gates of Hae'Evun

Cael McIntosh

Copyright © 2015 Cael McIntosh

All rights reserved.

ISBN-10: 0646938754

ISBN-13: 978-0-646-93875-2

## DEDICATION

### For those who mattered.

CONTENTS

Prologue: In the

1

Beginning

1 Wooden Box

20

2 Not Out of the Woods

29

Yet

3 Hunger

37

4 The Other Side of You 46

5 Silly Stories

54

6 Nothing Left of Me

60

7 Lost

70

8 A Funeral

78

9 He is a Terrible

90

Human

1 Just Like You

97

0

1 The Tome

10

1

3

1 Too Dead

11

2

0

1 Abomination

11

3

8

Cael McIntosh

1 Scriptures of the

12

4 Holy Tome

4

1 Isolation

13

5

2

1 The Truth

14

6

6

1 Talons

15

7

5

1 Perspective

16

8

2

1 Desecration of the

17

9 Spirit

3

2

Bird Cage

18

0

1

2

Exodus

18

1

9

2 The Burden or

19

2 Remorse

8

2 For Him

20

3

5

2 Refuge

21

4

2

2 As All of Us

21

5

7

2 The Price of Life

22

6

5

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

2 Into Her Darkest

23

7

2

2 Mendacity

23

8

9

2 Involution

24

9

4

3 Not You

25

0

3

3 Meet Your Maker

26

1

2

3 The Second Coming

26

2

8

3 The Gates of

27

3 Hae'Evun

9

Epilogue: Seteal

29

1

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Cael McIntosh

## PROLOGUE

### IN THE BEGINNING

In the beginning, Maker created Hae'Evun

then the Earth. Hae'Evun was Maker's first

creation since the creation of time itself and

therefore since he'd created himself. The

world was without form and void and

darkness was upon its surface. The Spirit of

Maker moved restlessly over the surface of

the waters.

'Let there be light,' He uttered and there

was light.

'Let there be a firmament in the midst of

the waters, and let it divide the waters from

the waters,' Maker said, and even as He

uttered the words, he saw the waters

splitting into clouds above and pooling into

great oceans below.

Satisfied with His work, Maker rested.

On the second day, Maker knew that

there was still much to be done. 'Let the

Cael McIntosh

waters beneath the clouds be gathered

together unto one place,' He said softly. 'Let

dry land appear.' A moment later, great

bodies of land reached up from the surface

of the water and the oceans began to

recede. Maker smiled over all he'd created

and called the place Hae'Evun.

'Let there be trees that grow mana,'

Maker announced, and trees erupted from

the earth, mana growing within small blue

flowers.

But there went up a white mist from the

earth and covered the whole face of the

ground. And the Lord Maker formed a silt of

the dust of the ground, and breathed into his

nostrils the breath of life. The silt opened his

eyes, having become a living soul. Maker

planted a garden eastward, and there He

put the silt whom He had formed. Satisfied

with what He'd done, Maker decided that

the third day should be one of rest.

'Of every tree in the garden thou mayest

freely eat,' Maker told the silt whom he'd

called Sa'Tan. 'From the highest branches to

the lowest, the mana thou shalt eat.'

Peering at the silt standing alone in his

garden, Maker suddenly became very sad,

for He'd noticed the man was all alone. 'It is

not good for a man to be alone. I will make a

companion for him.' With those words the

wind picked up and Sa'Tan looked about

himself fearfully. He was tired and his legs

soon fell out from under him. The silt

toppled over and fell into a deep sleep.

Maker sliced open his flesh and tore out one

of his ribs. He then focused on the wound

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

and watched as the skin writhed back into

place and sealed together as though it'd

never been broken.

Maker pushed against the Ways and

formed a white mist about Sa'Tan's rib. Dust

blew up from the surface of the earth to

form a beautiful woman, even as the man

awoke. 'This is now bone of my bones, and

flesh of my flesh,' Sa'Tan cried, overjoyed

that he shouldn't remain lonesome. 'She

shall be called Woman, because she was

taken out of Man.'

Sa'Tan and his wife Sa'Hin lived happily

for many years. They had children and

watched them grow into healthy young silts

and have children of their own. All was well

with the garden in Hae'Evun and the silts

were fruitful and became many and spread

throughout the land. Sa'Tan was the leader

among them, answering only to Maker

Himself. Seeing that His works were

complete, Maker folded Himself into another

Way.

In this new Way, silts did not exist, for

they were in Hae'Evun. They had been his

first creation--His experiment. Now He

would make a better creation, one that

would live in a paradise. He would create

not just one tree, but many, and they would

bare many flavoursome fruits. This place

would be filled with souls that crept and flew

and swam.

Turning His attention to the empty world,

Maker found it to be void with darkness on

its surface. The Spirit moved to the face of

the waters. 'Let there be light,' Maker said,

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Cael McIntosh

and as with His earlier creation, there was

light. 'Let there be a firmament.' Maker

twisted the Ways and watched as the waters

departed. Maker touched the waters and

land pushed into the air.

'Now,' Maker said, his voice filling with

anticipation for that which was yet to come,

'let the earth bring forth grass, the herb

yielding seed and the fruit tree yielding fruit

after its kind, whose seed is in itself upon

the earth.' Black mist blotted out the sun

and the planet was covered in darkness.

Then with a deep, rumbling sound, countless

varieties of radiantly flowered plant-life

forced its way from the surface of the

ground.

Maker saw that it was good.

'Let the mist bring forth abundantly the

moving creature that hath life, and fowl that

may fly above the earth in the open

firmament of the sky,' said Maker. And out of

the earth, Maker saw the embodiment of all

His creations into flesh. 'Be fruitful and

multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and

let fowl multiply on the earth.

'There is nobody to praise Me for such

beauty.'

Maker turned in dismay, staring at the

beautiful greens and radiant blues. Earth

was not at all like the dull grey realm of

Hae'Evun.

'Let there be a man,' Maker said. And

there went a mist to mingle with dust into

the flesh of a man. Maker created him

without wings, and strong legs for running.

This one would dwell on the earth.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Before breathing life into the man's

nostrils, Maker took one of his ribs and with

it created a woman in his likeness. He blew

life into their nostrils and their eyes were

opened. Maker took the humans and put

them in a garden filled abundantly with

birds, rivers and trees bearing many kinds of

fruit. 'Of every tree of the garden thou

mayest freely eat,' Maker addressed the

couple.

Favouring His most recent creation,

Maker stayed with Adam and Eve and

blessed them with many children. The tribe

of Adam continued to grow until it spread

out and around the original garden of Eden.

For a hundred years, Maker walked with the

humans of Earth. He stayed with them and

guided them, but they still had much to

learn. Too often they'd fall and become

injured. And Maker was beginning to lose

interest in them.

Twisting sideways, Maker folded into

Hae'Evun's universe. There the silts toiled,

farming mana and building cities, but many

had grown impatient with the Lord. They

cried out for purpose and felt cheated by his

abandonment.

Now, Sa'Tan--having lived for many

years--flew to the base of the mountain of

Horeb. There the Spirit of the Lord

appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of

the midst of a bush and Sa'Tan looked and,

behold, the bush burned with fire, and the

bush was not consumed.

'I will turn aside and see this great sight.'

Sa'Tan stumbled backward several steps, his

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Cael McIntosh

wings quivering with the temptation of

flight. 'Why is the bush not burnt?'

When the Lord saw that Sa'Tan had

turned aside to see, He called unto him out

of the midst of the bush and said, 'Sa'Tan,

Sa'Tan. Here am I. Draw not any closer. Put

back your wings and bow your head, for the

place where you stand is holy ground. I am

your Maker.'

Sa'Tan hid his face, for he was afraid to

look upon Maker.

'Sa'Tan,' Maker whispered at his ear.

'Look at me.'

Turning fearfully with downcast eyes,

Sa'Tan found a great crown with ruby horns

and a small black pebble at his feet. 'What of

the crown and this pebble?'

'I have made greater Ways,' Maker

murmured softly. 'Hae'Evun was the first

and Earth shall be the last. Because it is

perfect, I will move on to greater things. For

I am Maker.' The fire dulled for but a

moment before reigniting with great fury. 'Is

it true that there are complainers among

you?'

'There are complainers.' Sa'Tan

swallowed nervously. 'Please show mercy on

them, my Lord, for they are weak in the

Spirit.'

'I will give them a position of great

responsibility.' Maker sighed. 'You will be

the guardians of my other world,' the Lord

thundered in a voice so loud that every ear

in Hae'Evun could hear him. 'You will

protect the inhabitants of Earth.'

Even before the words had finished being

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

spoken, shadowy, wingless creatures

appeared in the midst of Hae'Evun. The

souls were vague, translucent images, that

faded as they moved away and became

clearer when the distance was decreased.

Children splashed about in the nearby river,

but in Hae'Evun, the waters did not move.

The shadowy reflections of the people of

Earth ate brightly coloured foods from a

seemingly endless variety of trees.

'Can they see us?' Sa'Tan asked shakily.

'They cannot,' Maker replied. 'You will

watch over them and heal them when they

are hurt. This is the gift I have given to all

my loyal silts. You may heal with a touch.

Only from death must you not bring back a

soul. It is a perversion in the eyes of the

Lord. You must protect the humans in my

absence, for they are my most favoured of

creations.'

'And what of the crown?' Sa'Tan asked,

picking up the crown.

'The crown is to tell all of siltkind that you

are My chosen one,' Maker replied. 'You will

be the Devil and command all the nations of

Hae'Evun.'

'What if someone should take it when I'm

sleeping?' Sa'Tan challenged the Lord.

'If any other should so much as touch this

crown, they will feel the fury of these

flames,' Maker answered and again the fire

grew taller and raged angrily.

'What of the pebble?' Sa'Tan picked up

the small black sphere that'd been left in the

grey dirt.

'The stone is for you alone,' Maker said,

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Cael McIntosh

'for you are My most loyal servant and

friend. Through the Stone of Maker, you may

access a portion of your Lord Maker's

power. You may use it three times because

three is the holy number of Hae'Evun and

every third day you rest. With each use, the

stone will grow weaker, because I cannot

endlessly trust even you with such power.'

'Why have you given me this gift?' Sa'Tan

gasped in astonishment.

'You are to use it after all else has failed,'

Maker replied. 'Should a war break out on

Earth and there be too many injured to heal,

then you may use the stone. When a plague

wipes out the cities of Earth, then you may

use the stone. When the harvest produces

little and the men of Earth have nothing to

eat, then you may use the stone. Should you

use it for selfish or trivial matters, I will

curse you for all eternity and the Ways

themselves will hate you and turn against

you and spit you out like poison.'

'Yes, my Lord.' Sa'Tan fell to his knees

and bowed down before the burning bush.

'I will feel the draw on My power,' Maker

said, 'that in the day of distress I shall come

to you with great haste.'

Lightning struck the side of the mountain

with terrible force and chunks of rock fell to

the ground at Sa'Tan's feet. Among them he

found two tablets with engravings on their

surface. 'These are my commandments that

I have given you.' Maker raised his voice so

that every ear could hear. 'I am the Lord,

your Maker, who has breathed life into you

and who has performed many wonders. This

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

is my covenant with all of those in

Hae'Evun.

'You must not have other makers before

Me or create a graven image of anything

and bow down to it, nor serve it. For I, the

Lord Maker, am a jealous Maker, visiting the

iniquity of the fathers upon their children

and their children's children and their other

children even to time indefinite for those

who hate Me.

'You must not raise the dead, for their

souls are mine.

'Remember the third day, and keep it holy.

'Honour thy father and thy mother.

'Protect the inhabitants of Earth with all

your strength.

'You must not kill.

'You must not commit adultery.

'You must not steal.

'You must not do harm to your neighbour.

'You must not blaspheme the Ways.'

When Maker finished speaking, Sa'Tan

put the crown atop his head and the Stone

of Maker into his pocket. He picked up the

tablets and held them in his arms.

'Thank you, my Lord,' Sa'Tan whispered,

a tear trickling down his cheek. A moment

later, the fire died away, leaving the small

grey tree unharmed. It was in that moment

that Sa'Tan knew Maker had truly left them

and he was the sole leader of Hae'Evun.

Sa'Tan turned away from the mountain

and wandered over to the river where he'd

seen human children playing earlier.

Although their images were difficult to see,

much like his own reflection in the water, he

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Cael McIntosh

gazed at the creatures in awe. Their flesh

appeared to be a soft pinkish-white or brown

and their features were oddly shaped.

Human limbs were shorter than those of a

silt and their faces less angular. Their eyes

were smaller and more circular, and their

fingers had a layer of hardened armour at

their tips. One of the boys raced out of the

water giggling and Sa'Tan gasped at his

unsightly feet, which were elongated and

tipped with no less than five stubby toes.

The child didn't even have a back toe.

Sa'Tan mused as to how the boy could

possibly maintain his balance.

The child laughed again, but it was a

distant sound, like that heard in a dream. He

raced along the stream only to vanish when

he was almost out of sight. Concerned for

his wellbeing, Sa'Tan hurried after the child

and as he caught up the boy began to

shimmer back into existence. The child

raced into the outstretched arms of his

mother, who twirled him about in the air.

Immediately Sa'Tan was enamoured by her

beauty. Rich brown hair flowing over her

shoulders and down her back served only to

complement the colour of her eyes. She was

slender in build and her grace of movement

was perfection.

A man approached and kissed the woman,

before sitting on a nearby rock. Sa'Tan

stared at the rock, his heart burning with

jealous desire. The woman turned toward

the bearded man and she leaned over to kiss

him in return. As she did so Sa'Tan moved to

sit on the same rock, it existing in both

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Hae'Evun and Earth. He and the man

occupied the same space and Sa'Tan

imagined that it was he who was being

kissed.

The woman pulled away, having kissed

her husband and known nothing of Sa'Tan's

presence, but her expression was one of

confusion.

'Your lips felt different,' she said with

concern. 'Are you all right?'

'I feel quite unwell,' the man's deep voice

echoed vaguely.

Sa'Tan leapt away from the rock, realising

that his continued presence in the same

space was doing harm to the man. But how

was that possible? They'd occupied the same

spaces for hundreds of years and never been

effected in such a way. Perhaps Maker had

brought their worlds closer than He'd

intended. The woman turned slowly and

squinted, her eyes momentarily connecting

with Sa'Tan's, but she simply shook her

head and took the child's hand.

'Come on, it's getting late. Let's go home.'

The beautiful, translucent trees swayed

gently on a breeze in the other world.

Sa'Tan reached out to the green leaves, but

they failed to react to his touch and his hand

merely slid through the air. Turning from the

river, Sa'Tan flew home, unable to dwell on

anything but the beauty of the woman he'd

seen. Maker truly had achieved perfection in

His new world.

Once he'd arrived in the city, Sa'Tan was

distracted by the masses of congratulations

and the camaraderie in the air and on the

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farms. The crowds swooped and danced and

chanted the name of their Devil repeatedly.

All the same, Sa'Tan could not escape the

image of the woman in his mind, so

desperately he desired to see her again.

In the months that followed, Sa'Tan

returned to the river every day at the same

time, but the woman did not again appear.

He was on the verge of giving up all hope

when he approached the river at the end of

a warm, sunny day. When he heard

splashing, he thought at first that some silt

children must be playing down there, but as

he approached, he recognised the strangely

distant, echoing sound coming up from the

riverbank. There, knee-deep in the water

was the young boy. Overwhelmed in his

excitement, Sa'Tan hurried passed the foot

of the mountain where he'd first seen Maker

and down to the river.

'You,' Sa'Tan called. 'Boy.'

'He cannot hear you, my Devil,' his friend

Mi'Chael said as he landed nearby. 'You

know that.'

'Are you so certain?' Sa'Tan replied as he

hurried over to the river. He tried again and

again to shake the boy's shoulder, but could

not.

'Are you playing the fool?' Mi'Chael

laughed.

'No,' Sa'Tan snapped, but his anger

cooled quickly as he was struck with an

idea. 'The bush,' he exclaimed. It must still

have some power in it.

'What do you mean?' Mi'Chael enquired.

'Maker appeared to me as a burning

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

bush,' Sa'Tan called over his shoulder even

as he hurried to the side of the mountain.

'His power must still be in it. You see, it is

killing the bush.'

Mi'Chael looked at the plant and nodded

his head in recognition of the wilting leaves.

Sa'Tan rapped his hands around the base of

the tree and tore it from the ground. With it

in his arms he raced over to the boy and as

he got closer his face became clearer.

'Boy!' Sa'Tan announced. 'Do you see

me?'

The human boy turned around, his face

becoming red as screamed at the top of his

lungs. A moment later, the beautiful woman

raced through the trees and looked about

protectively. Her eyes met with Sa'Tan's and

she took a step back in horror.

'What are you?'

'I am a silt.' Sa'Tan smiled.

'Have you come to harm us?'

'To the contrary,' Sa'Tan replied. 'We were

sent by Maker to protect you.'

'I must be sure that you are real.' The

woman gaped at his large wings and shook

her head in awe. She stepped forward

tentatively, whilst simultaneously pushing

her son farther away. Her hand moved

through the air, but instead of touching

Sa'Tan, it moved through him like he was

nothing. 'I must be dreaming,' the woman

whispered, 'but you are so clear before me.'

'Put your hand on the tree,' Sa'Tan said.

The woman did as he'd asked and her flesh

made contact with the plant, enabling her to

wrap her fingers about its surface. Sa'Tan

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Cael McIntosh

moved his hand and placed it gently around

hers, feeling her warm skin for the first

time.

'That's impossible,' the woman said.

'All things are possible in the Lord,'

Sa'Tan replied. 'Meet me here alone

tomorrow at the same time and tell no one

of our encounter.'

'Must you leave?' The woman maintained

her grip on the tree. 'I have so many

questions to ask of a being so close to

Maker. Your world, this shadowy one on top

of mine, seems so strange and grey.'

'I'm afraid I must,' Sa'Tan replied. 'But I

promise to return and we will talk long into

the night. For now, I must attend to other

matters. When I meet you again, come

alone,' Sa'Tan reminded her, nodding at the

child.

'Of course,' the woman murmured,

releasing the tree and moving away, she

looked back over her shoulder, but was

unable to locate Sa'Tan in order to make eye

contact. 'Come,' she said to her child and

the pair departed.

'Are you sure of what you're doing?'

Mi'Chael asked. 'Maker did not intend for

those on Earth to know of our Way. We are

only to watch and protect.'

'I am the Devil,' Sa'Tan growled. 'I'll do as

I please.'

Ignoring his wife's pleas for attention,

Sa'Tan abandoned her every night in the

weeks that followed so that he could meet

with Eve, the woman by the river. The two

became increasingly fond of one another,

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Eve likewise happily forfeiting time with her

husband Adam in favour of time spent with

Sa'Tan. After a few short weeks there

remained very little that they didn't know

about each other.

One night, when it was very late, Eve

sighed and said to Sa'Tan, 'Is it really so that

Maker has said you must not eat from the

fruit of this garden?'

'We may eat the mana that He has

provided us,' Sa'Tan replied, the

dissatisfaction plain in his tone. 'If we

violated His commandments in such a way,

I'm certain I would positively die.'

'You will certainly not die,' Eve said softly.

'The fruit is good and eaten often by those

on Earth. Perhaps Maker simply knows that

when you eat from it your eyes will be

opened and you will take what should be

yours by right.'

'What is mine?' Sa'Tan shook his head as

he watched Eve move to a nearby tree and

pluck a large red apple from its branches.

'You are the first born of all creation.' Eve

sat beside him and touched the apple to the

tree clasped in Sa'Tan's hand. He moved his

freehand, slowly wrapping it around Eve's

until he felt the apple leave her hand and

fold into Hae'Evun.

He held the fruit before his eyes and

wondered at its magnificence. His tongue

had tasted nought but mana throughout the

entirety of his days. He sank his teeth into

the flesh and tore away a chunk. As he

chewed he was unable to imagine how he

might ever find the words to describe the

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Cael McIntosh

flavour he tasted.

'You needn't be restricted to such a grey

world,' Eve continued. 'Come and join me on

Earth. Maker has abandoned us. Let us

unite and become the leaders of both

Hae'Evun and Earth.'

'But how?' Sa'Tan stared deep into Eve's

eyes.

'You have spoken of a stone of great

power,' Eve murmured.

'I should leave.' Sa'Tan got up abruptly. 'It

is late.'

'I haven't upset you, have I?' Eve

enquired.

'Get away from me,' Sa'Tan cried, 'for I

have committed a great sin against my

Father.' He allowed what was left of the

apple to fall to the dirt.

After the night on which he'd eaten the

fruit, Sa'Tan did not return to the river for a

long time. Instead, he hid himself away,

fearing that Maker would return with the

knowledge of his guilt. But Maker did not

return and the silts of Hae'Evun became

increasingly discontent. Maker's task had

not alleviated their sorrows. Rather, it'd

become fuel to the fire. One man found an

apple core down by the river and before

long had sown its seeds. Hae'Evun grew

both mana and apples.

One day, a human man tripped and broke

his leg. As he'd done many times before,

Sa'Tan reached out toward the man and put

his hand flat against his shadow flesh. The

wound was healed and the man leapt to his

feet praising Maker for such a miracle.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

'It was no miracle from Maker,' Sa'Tan

grumbled. 'It was I who healed you.' But of

course, the man could not hear him.

When Sa'Tan found himself flying above

the river several days later, he felt

compelled to see if Eve had continued to

wait for him. Upon landing he picked up the

old dead tree and found Eve sitting by the

river, a sorrowful expression on her face.

'Eve.' Sa'Tan approached, waving the tree

before him. 'It is I, Sa'Tan.' But the woman

could not hear him. 'Eve?' Sa'Tan crouched

before her and pushed the tree up against

her hand, but it only moved through her

flesh instead of touching it.

'Oh, Sa'Tan,' Eve whimpered. 'Why have

you forsaken me?'

'I have returned,' Sa'Tan cried. 'I love

you.'

'Sa'Tan?' Eve's face turned in his

direction but their eyes could not meet.

Perhaps, just for a moment, she'd heard a

whisper of his voice.

'I know what you've done,' Adam rumbled

as he appeared among the trees. Eve turned

slowly, her eyes wide with fear as Adam

threw back his arm and pierced her heart

with a spear.

'No!' Sa'Tan cried as Adam rushed back

into the woods. 'Don't you dare die,' he

pleaded as he slumped over Eve's body. 'I

won't let you.' Her eyes looked through

Sa'Tan and as she tried to speak a strange

red fluid spilled out of her mouth. So

unfamiliar was the substance that it took

Sa'Tan a moment to realise that he was

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Cael McIntosh

looking at human blood. 'I'll fix it.'

Resting his hands over her chest, Sa'Tan

pushed the healing force he'd been blessed

with across the boundaries of Hae'Evun and

into the Earthly realm. His hands were

warm and somehow he knew that her flesh

was cold. Sa'Tan focused and Eve's heart

moved just slightly. He focused again, but

could not make it beat. How could he heal

her with a spear still sticking out of her

chest? Sa'Tan stepped back and grabbed the

dead tree. With a desperate cry he swung it

at the spear. The two made contact and with

a spray of red blood, the semi-translucent

spear flew out of Eve's chest and

disappeared from view before it could hit

the ground.

On hands and knees, Sa'Tan prayed for

Maker's help, but Maker did not come. He

put his hands above Eve, but her wounds

were too great. She died and her reflection

in Hae'Evun vanished as though she'd never

existed. Sa'Tan sat back, choking on

emotion. Tears fell down his cheeks as he

cried out, blaspheming Maker's name.

'If I should spend an eternity burning in

the bowels of torrid, I shall do it to save this

woman,' Sa'Tan snarled, beating his wings

and swooping into the night.

After gathering together all those holy

objects with which he'd been blessed,

Sa'Tan returned to the mountain by the river

where he'd first met his Maker. He put the

dead tree back where it'd originally been

and rested his crown around one of its

branches. Sa'Tan placed the two tablets with

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

the ten commandments at the foot of the

tree and removed the black stone from his

pocket.

'Let there be gates to make passage

between Hae'Evun and Earth,' Sa'Tan

announced, squeezing the stone with all his

strength.

With a rumble like thunder, the earth

shook and the mountain threw down rocks

about Sa'Tan. The dead tree fell against its

surface and its branches inscribed a

gateway. The rocks became black and the

great arching gates surged away from the

mountain. With a loud cracking sound, they

swung open. Without hesitating, Sa'Tan

raced through the gateway and found

himself standing only strides from where

he'd been before and yet in a completely

different reality.

For a moment, he stood frozen, stunned

into silence by the beauty surrounding him.

There were more stars than in Hae'Evun

and the moon sat fuller above Earth.

Strange fragrances from thousands of

different flowers enticed Sa'Tan, but he

would not be blinded to his purpose.

Hurrying around the gates, Sa'Tan found

Eve's body and put his hands over her. The

healing power within him felt stronger now

that they were close. Perhaps it'd only been

distance that prevented resurrection.

Sa'Tan felt the woman's blood travelling

slowly toward her heart as its wounds

shrank and the surface came together. He

squeezed his eyes shut and focused.

'Just one beat,' he pleaded and beneath

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Cael McIntosh

his hands Eve's chest shuddered. 'Again,'

Sa'Tan demanded of the heart as it became

whole and released another quivering beat.

Then another. Eve's rib made a cracking

sound as it snapped back into place and the

broken skin on her chest slid together

leaving no evidence that she'd ever been

dead.

'Sa'Tan,' Eve said softly, putting her hand

to his cheek. 'You came.'

With a furious cry, Adam raced through

the trees, a spear once again in his grasp.

He charged at Sa'Tan and thrust the weapon

before him. Sa'Tan swatted it away as

though it were nothing. Adam continued

running and slammed into Sa'Tan, but his

strength was like that of a child. Sa'Tan

pushed Adam backward and wrapped a hand

around his throat. He lifted the human into

the air with ease and laughed in

astonishment at his weakness. How could

Maker have possibly felt he'd achieved

perfection with such creatures?

'If I see you again,' Sa'Tan threatened. 'I

will kill you.'

When Maker felt the drain on His power,

He returned to Hae'Evun with great haste,

but when He got there, He hardly

recognised the place. A great war had

broken out in Hae'Evun, with Sa'Tan the

Devil and his followers on one side and

Mi'Chael and his followers on the other.

There were humans in Hae'Evun and many

silts upon the Earth. The war reached a

climax and Mi'Chael was forced to retreat to

the distant parts of Hae'Evun. Sa'Tan and

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

his silts remained close to the gates, living

in both worlds as he saw fit.

Had Maker not been slow to anger, He

may have destroyed all life in His fury. But

something told Him not to. All the same,

when His Spirit went down upon the Earth

and found silts engaging in sexual acts with

humans, and others raising them from the

dead, His anger became as hot as the

blazing fires of torrid.

In those days, Sa'Tan and Eve had been

together for some time and were trying

without success to produce children. The

pair heard the sound of the Lord Maker as

His Spirit was walking in the garden in the

cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord

Maker among the trees. But the Lord Maker

called out to Sa'Tan, 'Where are you?'

'I heard you in the garden,' Sa'Tan

replied, fearful of the voice and knowing not

from which direction it came. 'I was afraid

because I was naked with Eve.'

'Who told you that you could be naked

with Eve?' Maker's voice grew louder. 'Have

you eaten from the trees that I commanded

you not to eat from?'

'The woman you put here on Earth; she

gave me some fruit from the tree and I ate

it,' Sa'Tan whimpered. 'Forgive me, Father,

for I have sinned.'

'What is this you have done?' Maker

asked the woman. 'Had I not given you a

man of your own? Did I not bless you with

many children?'

'The Devil deceived me and I gave him

the fruit.' Eve turned away, refusing to look

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Cael McIntosh

Sa'Tan in the eye.

'Because you have done this,' Maker said

to Sa'Tan, 'cursed are you above all living

things. You have come to think yourself

wiser than the almighty Maker, you vile,

retched demon. I will cast you out of

Hae'Evun and down upon the Earth. Cursed

are you and your children and your

children's children and your other children

to time indefinite. You will cry out in your

misery and suffer in the evil of your touch.

Cursed will be the good of your labour and

not a soul will go unpunished. You will be

hunted like an animal all the days of your

life. And I will put enmity between you and

the woman and between your offspring and

hers; She will crush your head and you will

strike Her heel.'

'As for you,' Maker said to the woman,

'cursed will be your life and the life of your

offspring. You will seek escape but have

nowhere to hide. They will destroy you,

reaching even the frozen mountains before I

will show mercy to you.'

Slithering through the film into Hae'Evun,

Maker found Mi'Chael and blessed him and

put a halo atop his head and atop the heads

of his followers. 'You have shown great

goodness in loving me. I will send but a

small number of you to remain upon the

Earth to ensure Sa'Tan cannot bring it

destruction before the appointed time.

After the chosen angels had exited

through the gates of Hae'Evun, Maker

closed them and sealed them off so that they

would not again be opened until the

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

appointed time. The gates faded into

darkness and no eye could see them.

Saddened by the betrayal of His beloved

human creations, Maker searched to see if

even one of them had remained true to Him.

Through the darkness He found a small

group that still worshipped and loved him.

They had not taken part in sinning against

him. These people would suffer, too, but he

gave them the gift of knowledge and

whitened their middle-eye as a defining

mark. These he called Elglair and told them

to travel north until the cold kept them from

going any farther. There they would take

shelter and live in peace and security until

the end of the system.

Thirty-two Elglair men were anointed to

write a book in which Maker told the

inhabitants of Earth about their only hope

for the future. It was a book in which He

could put the promise of His return, a book

that foretold the future through prophesy.

The book served as proof that His appointed

day would come and He would not forsake

those who loved Him. Those thirty-two

Elglair men wrote the compilation of books

that are now commonly known as the Holy

Tome.

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Cael McIntosh

Lu-ke 10

17. Then the seventy angels returned with

joy, saying, 'Lord, the demons are subject

unto us through Thy name.'

18. And He said unto them, 'I beheld

Sa'Tan as lightning fall from Hae'Evun.

19. 'Behold, I give unto you power to tread

on serpents and scorpions and over all the

power of the enemy and nothing shall by any

means hurt you until the conclusion of this

system.'

23. And He turned unto His Elglair and

said privately, 'Blessed are the eyes which

see the things that ye see.

24. 'For I tell you that many prophets and

kings have desired to see those things which

ye see, and have not seen them; and to hear

those things which ye hear, and have not

heard them.'

25. And behold, a certain lawyer stood up

and tested Him, saying, 'Master, how shall

they know us when we come upon them?'

26. He said unto him, 'By the light of thy

eyes.'

27. And he reached out his hand and light

came unto their eyes.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

## CHAPTER ONE

### WOODEN BOX

A wooden milk crate sat in the corner of the

room. It would soon find its purpose, but not

just yet. The deceased baby boy lay beneath

a soft brown blanket. His mother watched

him, her heart aching and her tears flowing.

Seeol stood in the doorway, intermittently

observing her and resting his head behind

his wing. He'd waited patiently throughout

the night--which Seteal appreciated--

although she very much doubted he was

capable of having any real understanding of

the situation. After all, he was only an elf

owl.

'Okay.' Seteal sniffed, dabbing her nose

with a sleeve. 'It's time to go.' Unable to

physically touch the boy, she gathered the

25

Cael McIntosh

blankets around him and placed him inside

the wooden box. As she lowered him the

blanket fell away to reveal the ugly welts

that'd formed beneath the weight of her

hands around his neck. 'I'm so sorry,' Seteal

whispered. 'You shouldn't have left us so

young. You shouldn't have to die when you

can fit into a box.' She laughed hysterically,

only to again fall apart.

After remaining fixed in place for some

time, Seteal did her best to rewrap

Parrowun in the blanket before replacing

the lid atop the crate. She scooped up the elf

owl, slipped him into her pocket, and

reluctantly turned back to face the crate.

Seeol remained silent. He'd lost a lot of

blood for such a small animal and Seteal

was certain that soon he'd die. She picked

up the crate. It was far too light to contain a

human being. When she arrived at the front

door, She took a deep, shuddering breath

and pushed it open.

At first, the sunlight was blinding, but

soon Seteal's eyes adjusted and when they

did, she found herself wishing they hadn't.

The city square was silent, without a single

living soul. She looked down at her feet and

realised she'd lost one of her shoes. She

must've looked quite the sight, standing in a

blood-stained dress and one shoe. She

kicked it off and stepped onto the landing.

The boards creaked noisily in the silence of

the square and Seteal felt herself struggling

against the urge to retreat. But that

wouldn't do. She had to get back to

Elmsville.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

As Seteal made her way down the old

wooden steps, she feared the beating of her

own heart would attract one of the whisp-

mutated creatures still haunting the area.

Placing one foot after the other, Seteal made

her way across the pavement. She tried to

avoid looking at the masses of corpses

scattered across the square. The morning

sun had already caused a foul odour to fill

the air and a hundred flies paid each body

careful attention. Seteal gingerly stepped

over the tip of an outstretched, white-

fleshed demon wing. She looked for the

owner only to discover his absence. After

dry-retching several times, Seteal took a

moment to get her bearings and continued.

A cotton doll lay in a pool of blood. The

girl Seteal presumed to be its owner was

face-down a stride away, her hand reaching

out toward the doll--small comfort in her

dying moments. Seteal exhaled and moved

on. A howl like that of a wolf sounded in the

distance, but it was far too deep and

continued on far too long for the animal to

have been unaffected. She headed in the

opposite direction.

Seteal was about to pass a fallen soldier,

when she noticed a pistol in his belt and had

to put Parrowun's coffin down to gingerly

unbuckle the holster. One could never be too

careful. She balanced the weapon atop the

crate and continued along a silent street,

which was home to an elaborate church

cradled among other ancient buildings.

The church loomed ominously with its

arching doorways and colourfully glassed

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Cael McIntosh

windows, depicting pivotal scenes from the

Holy Tome. Seteal hated the building. Her

heart beat faster as her anger grew. She

looked back at all the death and destruction

she'd seen in the square. There was no

Maker here. Seteal entered the church and

moved carefully so as not to draw attention

in a building so prone to echo.

On the far wall was a painted depiction of

the original Devil. His flesh was red and his

breath was fire. A crown similar to the one

Ilgrin had been toting around the last time

she'd seen him adorned the beast's head.

His hand was held at eye level and a

comparatively small black stone was

pinched between two fingers. Seteal

pondered over the stone for a moment.

Something about its black sheen was

distantly familiar. Unable to place the

memory, she decided that it must've been

something her father had told her back

when he'd still been living beneath the

delusion that he could convince her to

return to the faith. In the clouds above the

Devil--presumably in Hae'Evun--noble-

looking men with feathered wings stared

down at him in disgust.

Seteal shook her head at the idiocy of the

conception that silts in Hae'Evun would look

like humans with giant bird wings.

The wall beside her was decorated by an

image of men with white pupils, dressed in

old-fashioned clothing standing all in a row.

They made ridiculous, grandiose gestures

and stood knee-deep in a lake. A white owl

hovered atop their heads, anointing them.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Seteal moved to the back of the church

where the likeness of Maker stood with open

arms behind the podium. The graven image

depicted an old man with a thick, curly

beard. Maker had an owl perched on his

right hand, but in his left was nothing.

Seteal frowned at the statue. The way its

hand was positioned made her suspect

there'd once been something pinched

between the finger and thumb.

'Beautiful, isn't it?' A voice enquired.

Seteal snatched up the pistol and dropped

the wooden crate. She spun on her heals

and levelled the weapon in the face of an

elderly man. 'Not in Maker's Holy Church,'

the old man hissed incredulously. 'I mean

you no harm.' He put up his hands and

backed away.

'I'm sorry,' Seteal said without much

conviction, turning to readjust the lid on the

crate. She kept the pistol in her hand but

lowered it to her side. 'I thought everybody

was dead.'

'Most are, but blessed Maker in all His

wisdom has kept me safe in our humble

church.' The old man looked Seteal up and

down. 'I'm Father Marcel.'

'Yeah, right.' Seteal snorted at his idea of

humble. 'Why are his fingers like that?' She

nodded at the statue.

'There used to be an onyx set between

them.' Father Marcel sighed. 'It served as a

depiction of the Stone of the Devil.'

'The Stone of the Devil?' Seteal raised her

eyebrows, unable to recall having heard of

it.

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Cael McIntosh

'It's only mentioned a few times in the

Scriptures, but it's a very important part of

our faith,' Marcel reprimanded her.

'Your faith,' Seteal corrected.

'I see.' Marcel frowned disappointedly.

'The stone has great power and is the only

key to the gates of Hae'Evun. In the book of

Genesis, Sa'Tan used it to open the gates

before leading through a rebellion of wicked

demons into our world. That key could

reopen the gates and all this violence would

come to an end.'

'Then why doesn't somebody use it?'

Seteal challenged.

'Nobody knows where it is,' the Father

replied regretfully. 'Great men have lived

and died searching for it, but their time was

spent in vain. The Holy Tome tells us in

Matt-hew 16, verse 19 that, "if the key thou

shalt lose on the Earth, it shall be lost

forever."'

'So it's impossible to find?' Seteal

enquired. Although a small part of her

wondered why she was still talking to the

man, another part of her knew the answer.

Talking nonsense with the Father was the

only thing stopping her from thinking about

the contents of the wooden crate at her feet.

'If it's truly lost, then I'm afraid so.'

Father Marcel put his hands together

thoughtfully. 'I suppose we must all hope

that someone somewhere out there knows

where it is. Trust in the Lord, my daughter,

and all the desires of your heart will be

granted.' The old man put his hand on

Seteal's shoulder.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

'No!' Seteal slapped it away and raised

her pistol, her thoughts overwhelmed by

memories of Fasil.

'I'm sorry, my child,' the Father gasped.

'I'm not your child,' Seteal spat. 'I was

kidnapped and raped. I've been tormented

by demons, tortured, and cut. I was infested

by whisps and forced to murder my own son.

So don't you dare tell me to trust in the

Lord!' She pressed her pistol against the old

man's face until he quivered with fear. 'The

Lord doesn't live here anymore.'

Seteal felt the trigger beginning to move

beneath her finger. She liked the way it felt.

'Not . . . no,' Seeol rattled out from the

depths of her pocket. 'You don't have to kill

him. Dead people is everywhere.'

'You're right.' Seteal released the trigger,

marched over to the crate and lifted it

beneath her arm. 'Don't move,' she snapped

at Father Marcel while backing toward the

entrance. 'And I'm taking your Tome.' She

snatched up the thick book from one of the

pews and waved it above her head.

Uncertain as to why she'd done so, she

threw it down atop the crate and strutted

out the door.

She made her way across the street

where there was a white horse and carriage.

The animal seemed a little skittish, which

didn't come as a surprise, considering what

it had witnessed the day before. 'Easy girl.'

Seteal reached out to the animal, but her

gaze shifted when from the periphery of her

vision she noticed a woman sitting in the

black-polished carriage.

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Cael McIntosh

'Hello?' Seteal swallowed nervously as

she peered into the dark interior. 'Oh,

Maker!' She gagged and opened the door ,

thereby receiving an answer to her

suspicions. The woman was dead with half

of her head's contents sprayed against the

back window. Seteal frowned. Still, at least

she hadn't suffered. A bullet to the head

usually negated a drawn out death. 'Um . . .

' Seteal scratched uncomfortably at the back

of her head. 'Sorry,' she offered awkwardly,

took the woman's cold arm and yanked her

sideways so that she toppled onto the road.

The body hit the pavement with a

splattering crunch. A fat brown cockroach

leapt out of her dress and scurried away.

Seteal left the wooden crate on the seat,

hurried after the roach and squished it. She

immediately regretted having discarded her

only shoe and quickly found a patch of grass

to clean her foot. After she'd gotten rid of as

much insect juice as was possible, Seteal

made her way back over to the cockroach

and picked it up tentatively by the antenna.

Sliding her free hand cautiously into her

pocket, Seteal's fingers met soft brown

feathers. She scooped up Seeol and put him

on the seat beside Parrowun's makeshift

coffin. 'I got you something to eat.' She put

the roach in front of the bird, but he failed

to acknowledge the gesture. His eyelids

were halfway shut and his head dipped

toward the leather beneath him. 'You have

to eat something,' Seteal reprimanded the

little bird, pretending he was being stubborn

rather than the alternative. Seeol rested his

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

beak on the seat and closed his eyes.

'Please don't do this.' Seteal rested her

knees on the step into the carriage. 'Don't

die, Seeol. Don't die. I don't think I could

stand to lose you, too.' Seeol's eyes

remained closed. 'Damn it, Seeol.' Seteal

looked sharply to her left and stared at the

church across the road. She stared for a

long time, her hand hovering protectively

over the little bird. 'No,' she snapped. 'To

torrid with you! You'll eat it or I'll make you

eat it.' She snapped off one of the roach's

legs and forced it against Seeol's beak. 'Eat,'

she sobbed. 'Please, just eat it.'

'Yes,' Seeol said faintly, his eyes

fluttering. 'Is delicious one,' he murmured,

his eyes locking on the half-squished roach.

He opened his beak and took a lethargic

hold of the offering.

'Thank Maker.' Seteal exhaled slowly,

again staring off across the road. Then she

vanished. Monsters. Mutants. They were

coming; hundreds of them and they were

hungry for living flesh. 'All right.' Seteal put

a hand against her face and stepped back,

the knowing having left her feeling dizzy.

'You eat that.' Seteal left the roach and

closed the door. 'I'll just . . .' She trailed off

at the sound of distant growls, barks, hoots

and shrieks.

'Marcel,' Seteal called through the church

doors.

'Please don't shoot me,' the Father cried.

'I'm not going to shoot you,' she barked. 'I

don't even have my gun,' she insisted,

feeling altogether very vulnerable. 'Look, if

33

Cael McIntosh

you want to live, we've got to get out of here

right now.'

'Why?' Marcel's chin quivered.

'Because Maker cannot protect you from

what's coming,' Seteal replied. If Marcel

didn't follow, it was his own problem. He'd

been warned. Turning her attention down

the street, Seteal saw a mass of creatures

come pouring around the corner. No two

were alike, all having been altered through

whisp pollution. Among them were creatures

that'd once been human and silt. Some were

mixtures of the two. Others had wounds and

afflictions with which no naturally living

creature could've continued to live. Beside

them snarled strange dogs and wolves, some

with horns and standing thrice the height

they should have. But, of course, for most of

the creatures it was impossible to identify

what they'd once been.

'Hurry!' Seteal shouted over her shoulder

after spotting Father Marcel racing across

the road in his flowing church gown. 'Get in

the back, but watch out for the bird.'

'There's blood in there,' Marcel gasped.

'I'm so sorry,' Seteal snapped back

sarcastically. 'I'm yet to find the time to have

the upholstery cleaned.'

'What is it with that bird?' Marcel

muttered as he clambered into the wagon.

'Nothing,' Seteal said a little too hastily.

'He's only an elf owl,' she replied, struggling

into the driver's seat up top. She turned to

take one last look at the strange concoction

of monsters bearing down on them and was

all too aware of the probable reason for

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

their arrival. Apparently Seeol was getting

better after all.

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Cael McIntosh

Matt-hew 16

19. And I will give unto thee the key to the

Kingdom of Hae'Evun in the palm of thy

hands. And the gate thou shalt open on the

Earth, shall be opened in Hae'Evun, but if the

key thou shalt loose on Earth, it shall be

loosed forever.

20. For I will give unto thee the key even

in the lock, for thee but to turn it.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

## CHAPTER TWO

### NOT OUT OF THE WOODS YET

'Look.' Ilgrin pointed south where the

familiar site of dark silhouettes with beating

wings stole his attention.

'Reinforcements,' El-i-miir replied.

'Already?'

'They're determined not to lose Beldin.'

Ilgrin frowned. 'It makes sense doesn't it?

It's a large city, protected from the back by

Middle Sea and from the front by

impenetrable walls.'

'It's ironic.' El-i-miir sighed. 'The walls we

built to protect ourselves have turned out to

be a hindrance more than a help.'

'And, of course, the walls are useless

against my kind,' Ilgrin said little above a

whisper as he led El-i-miir through a patch

of forest south of the city. 'We all grew so

complacent. I've heard that many people in

the northern countries didn't even believe

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Cael McIntosh

silts existed until recently. Nobody thought

the day would come when they'd attempt an

invasion.'

'Attempt?' El-i-miir raised her eyebrows.

'Ilgrin, they're succeeding with ease.'

'I suppose you're right,' he said, peering

distractedly through the trees.

'How much further is it anyway?'

'We agreed that if we got split up we'd

follow the river to the nearest waterfall and

wait,' Ilgrin replied. 'Can't you feel her on

the Ways?'

'Angels are difficult to track. It's like they

don't quite belong in the same Way as we

do.'

'Look.' Ilgrin pointed at a dilapidated

shed that'd been left to rot in the middle of

the woods. 'Come on, let's check it out.'

'Oh, Ilgrin, I don't know.' El-i-miir resisted

him, but to a silt her strength was

comparable to that of a three-year-old child.

'We'll only be a minute.' He dragged her

into the shed behind him.

Inside it was dark, musty, and El-i-miir felt

the need to cover her nose. The sound of

Ilgrin's breath came closer and soon his

body was pressed up against hers.

'No,' El-i-miir gasped at the realisation of

his intention. 'Ilgrin!' She threw open the

door and hurried outside.

'Sorry,' the silt replied sullenly as he

followed her and did up his belt.

'I'm not yours to have any time you want

you know?' El-i-miir grumbled. 'Especially

not after recent events.'

'What do you mean?' Ilgrin mumbled,

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

embarrassed, with downcast eyes.

'You know perfectly well what I mean,' El-

i-miir replied shortly. 'We need to spend time

together talking. Not doing that.' She

pointed an accusing finger at the shed.

'When you became the Devil, you said and

did things . . . awful things.'

'I didn't want anyone to die,' Ilgrin said

defensively.

'Well, people are dying,' El-i-miir snapped.

'And what was I supposed to do?' Ilgrin

gritted his teeth. 'Was I supposed to let the

Elglair murder us? Why? Why is that, El-i-

miir? Why would you think it's okay for

humans to defend themselves, but when silts

are attacked, we're expected to just lay

down and die? Oh, wait, I know, it's because

you see human life as more valuable, right?'

'That's not true.' El-i-miir covered her

mouth, but couldn't help but wonder if Ilgrin

had a point. Had silts attacked mankind

first, she'd have agreed that they should

fight back, but she found herself wanting

when the situation was reversed. 'Look,

maybe a little bit,' El-i-miir said in defeat. 'I

don't mean anything by it. I can't help it. I'm

human, so humans matter more to me.'

'Well, I care about humans and silts

equally.' Ilgrin narrowed his eyes.

'Of course you do.' El-i-miir shrugged.

'Your parents were human. You lived a

human life. You wore human clothing. You

practically are human. It's different for me. I

grew up thinking silts were evil monsters.

My childhood bedtime stories likened silts to

ugly trolls living in sludge beneath a bridge.

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Cael McIntosh

That's a lot to overcome.'

'Trolls?'

'Yes,' El-i-miir said emphatically. 'I love

you, but not other silts. It's just not in me.'

'Ah, there she is.' Ilgrin threw out his

hands and laughed humourlessly. 'There's

the inner Elglair coming right out of your

mouth.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Here's what you do to me, El-i-miir.'

Ilgrin scratched his chin sarcastically, as

though he were in deep thought. 'You're the

sweetest, kindest, most considerate and

warm-hearted person I've ever met. You

make my heart want to explode with love,

but when it's just seconds away from

bursting, you say something so hideous and

painful that I'm utterly deflated. The love I

felt moments before is all but eliminated.

The cycle repeats again and again and again

and again! That's why I didn't want to talk

about it, because the truth is, when we talk,

it only ever ends in disappointment. The

only time we love each other is when we're

on the verge of losing our lives or having

sex. Conversation . . . it's just not working so

well.'

'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir gasped. 'I don't

understand where this is coming from.'

'That's the problem.' He jabbed a finger

through the air. 'You're so Elglair that you

can't even see what you're doing.' The silt

turned and slammed his fist hard into a tree.

The trunk cracked.

'I can't fix it if I don't know what the

problem is.' El-i-miir felt her lip quivering.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

'You have to talk to me.'

'Fine.' Ilgrin turned around rubbing his

knuckles. 'I'll break it down for you. I'm as

much a silt as any one of my kin. And they

are my kin, you hear me? I'm not some

human dressed in a silt skin, and I'm really,

really tired of you having to pretend that I

am just so you'll be able to abstain from

gagging long enough to look at me. If silts

are trolls hiding beneath a bridge, then so

am I,' Ilgrin snarled, looming over her. 'I'm

every bit the demon you Elglair are so afraid

of. And we're not the pathetic, inferior

creatures my parents made us out to be.

Humans are.' The silt gritted his teeth and

lowered his face toward El-i-miir's. 'So if you

were hoping that I'd weep bitter tears and

tell you how much I regret the decisions I

made in Hel, then I'm afraid you're going to

be very disappointed.'

'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir choked out, her

fingertips tingling as she felt the Ways

shifting irritably. 'Run,' she whispered,

turning to hurry in the opposite direction.

'What're we running from?'

'That,' El-i-miir replied, at the distant

eruption of hunting dogs barking.

'We have to split up,' Ilgrin panted.

'Why?'

'Because it's my scent that they'll be

tracking.' He gave El-i-miir a penetrating

stare. 'Hunting dogs don't chase down

humans.'

'What about you?' El-i-miir cried fearfully.

'As soon as I've led them away, I'll take to

the skies and they'll lose my scent. I'll come

41

Cael McIntosh

back for you. I promise.'

'Please do.' El-i-miir stopped running in

harmony with Ilgrin. 'That back there. That

wasn't us. That wasn't real. I love you.'

'They're getting closer,' Ilgrin said

urgently, picking up on the sound of men

shouting. 'Quickly.' He pushed her away.

'You go that way,' Ilgrin told her before

bolting through the leaf litter and

disappearing among the trees.

'Right,' El-i-miir whispered. She turned to

run. The wind whipped her hair over her

face as it danced about her shoulders like a

black veil, which suddenly seemed very

appropriate. The popping sound was so

distant and playful. It was hardly a force for

evil. El-i-miir's foot hit the ground, countless

muscles contracted, sending her other foot

flying forward in preparation to catch her

weight when it hit the earth. And there was

that popping sound.

Searing cold and then blinding white

pain. Blood and chunks of flesh sprayed into

the air before her. El-i-miir's foot hit the

earth, but the muscles within went limp. She

was deaf to anything but the blood rushing

in her ears and the thundering of her heart.

The ground flew up at her and El-i-miir slid

to a stop in the leaves.

With the last of her strength, she rolled

onto her back and stared up through the

trees. The sun shone too bright and she soon

found herself squinting to avoid it. Then it

seemed easier just to close her eyes

altogether. She rested, breathing steadily in

the darkness of her head.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

'No,' she murmured. 'No, don't sleep. Get

up. Get up!' Grunting at the pain and effort

required, El-i-miir rolled onto her knees and

pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. 'Okay.

All right, I'm up. I'm up.'

After stumbling several steps, El-i-miir's

eyes burst open and she received the rude

awakening that she was actually still on her

back. Unfamiliar faces bounced around her

field of vision, but all of a sudden it'd

become extremely dark.

*

Trees flashed by on either side of Ilgrin as

he sprinted through the forest, although

calling it sprinting was being rather

generous. Ilgrin's three-toed feet--so ineptly

designed for running--slapped through the

dry foliage underfoot. He leapt again for

freedom, only to be slapped in the face by

sharp branches and a densely packed

canopy. It felt like the thousandth time he'd

failed in becoming airborne, and the twenty

or so men tracking him were far superior

than he at the fine art of running.

A dog leapt out of nowhere and snapped

at Ilgrin's heels. Instinctively he beat his

wings, but they soon became tangled in

vines and shrubbery, causing him to come

crashing back down. As he leapt to his feet,

the hunting dog leapt for his throat with

jaws gaping. Ilgrin thrust out his arm and

snapped the animal's neck with a violent

jolt.

'There it is!' a man announced at the top

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Cael McIntosh

of his lungs. 'Get it!' cried another. A

gunshot rung out in the distance and Ilgrin

found himself praying for El-i-miir's safety.

An arrow plunged into the earth several

handswidths from Ilgrin's feet. A bullet

ripped through the air, shattering a tree

trunk and sending the towering plant

toppling to the earth. Those at the head of

the crowd were quickly gaining ground and

a glance over Ilgrin's shoulder revealed

their sweaty faces to be no more than ten

strides behind.

Another deafening gunshot blasted past

Ilgrin's ear. A second tree buckled and

toppled toward him. With a terrified yelp,

Ilgrin leapt into the air and over the tree. He

smashed through delicate foliage expecting

to land painfully on the other side, but much

to his surprise the impact never came.

After his face had been slapped

repeatedly by twigs and small branches,

Ilgrin exploded out of the trees, taking with

him a mass of greenery. Beside him a

waterfall roared, its stream continuing down

no less than two hundred strides below--a

free-fall that would've torn a human to

shreds. Eyes bulging and heart pounding,

Ilgrin threw out his wings, only to gasp as

three gunshots were fired in quick

succession. The only sign Ilgrin received

that he'd been injured was a warm burning

sensation in his wing, where the flesh was

thinnest. The sensation of pain was minimal,

but the sight of three bullet holes having

blasted through his wing was enough to

send Ilgrin into shock.

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

With one wing unable to properly capture

the wind, he found himself spiralling out of

control. The river tumbled toward him, the

clouds above rescinding their invitation.

Ilgrin inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and

squeezed his wings tight against his body,

bracing for the inevitability of what was yet

to come.

The impact was brutal. Ilgrin's head

snapped back and his wings were torn open

almost to the point of breaking. The breath

he'd taken seconds earlier was forced from

of his lungs as his chest was crushed. Every

muscle in his body felt as though it was

being sliced from his bones. The cold was

almost a blessing to free Ilgrin from the fire

within. Water forced its way into his mouth

and he started to choke. He begged himself

not to breathe but the urge was too great.

His mouth opened. He screamed and what

was left of the precious air fled his lungs.

The water became very still and Ilgrin's

body went limp. He could see the sun

churning in pieces above. Among bouncing

shards of light, he saw Seteal's sorrow,

having revealed the knowing about his

death. He heard El-i-miir's voice telling him

that she loved him and that it was okay for

him to let go. Ilgrin's mother reached out

and took his hand, her eyes filled with all the

love in the world.

With the surface so far above, and as

Ilgrin's head came to rest in sludge the final

remnants of his will shrivelled into obscurity.

'Just breathe,' El-i-miir's voice called softly.

'It's okay.' Ilgrin's lips parted and his mouth

45

Cael McIntosh

was filled with water. It didn't matter. He

inhaled, his eyes bulging and lungs burning.

The blue light danced peacefully about him

as his eyes closed and he abandoned his

final thoughts to the dark. 

## CHAPTER THREE

### HUNGER

Far-a-mael strode effortlessly through the

frozen corridors of the Third Cleff's central

building. From outside the structure was a

pyramid with a triangular base, but the

inside consisted of an intricate network of

tunnels and cavities housing great arching

bridges that stretched out across vast

expanses. It was by far the largest of the

cleffs, making it the most suitable as a base

for war.

Occasionally a moth fluttered away from

the lower parts of Far-a-mael's robe as it

bounced about his heels. But they always

returned as hurriedly as they'd been

dislodged. Far-a-mael raised his hand and

examined the almost undetectable pattern of

insect wings writhing across his skin. He

turned his hand over and examined the lines

on his fingers. The flesh was utterly

47

Cael McIntosh

convincing, but if he shook his hand

violently or slapped it against a wall he'd

lose it to a cloud of moths before they'd

again shuffle back into place. Even if Far-a-

mael removed his robe, by the time he'd

done so, they'd have dissolved into a mass of

the flying insects that moments later would

establish themselves to reform his clothing.

'War Elder Far-a-mael,' a young man

gasped from his position guarding the

closed doors of a meeting room.

'Get out of my way,' Far-a-mael snapped.

He'd been more irritable than usual lately

and had no time for young fools. Throwing

out his hands, Far-a-mael shoved open the

double doors and entered the room beyond.

There he was met by the shocked

expressions of the high elders.

'Far-a-mael,' his old friend Gez-reil

choked out the name and his face became as

white as a sheet. 'We thought you were

dead.'

'Try not to sound so disappointed,' Far-a-

mael drawled, before his gaze fell to the ice-

work table at the centre of the room. 'What

is this?' he barked, furiously scooping up

some papers the elders had been viewing.

Reading the first few lines confirmed his

suspicions and Far-a-mael soon found it

difficult to contain his fury. 'A treaty? Really?

You'd undo all the good I've done!'

'What good?' The high elder of the

Second Cleff stood. 'You've almost

singlehandedly destroyed the entirety of

New World.'

'Oh, for Maker's sake, must you be so

48

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

dramatic, Dam-al.' Far-a-mael rolled his eyes

before tearing up the contract into little

pieces.

'Far-a-mael,' Gez-reil said in a tone of

reprimand.

'Come now, Gez-reil.' Far-a-mael

chuckled. 'We're well past the point of

negotiation with these monsters. You must

know that by now.'

'Whether or not that's the case is no

longer your concern, old friend,' Gez-reil put

a hand on Far-a-mael's shoulder, only to

retract it sharply. 'Where's your aura?'

'I wondered when you were going to

bring that up,' Far-a-mael smirked. 'You

must be getting a little near-sighted in your

old age. But my aura is irrelevant. Of course

the negotiation of a treaty is my concern.

I'm your war elder.'

'Not anymore,' Gez-reil stated firmly.

'We've decided to remove you from that

position.'

'You don't have the power to make that

decision,' Far-a-mael said indignantly. 'It's

against the law.'

'To torrid with the law,' said Gez-reil. 'At

the rate you're going, there will be nobody

left to follow it.'

'Nonsense,' Far-a-mael sneered at Gez-

reil's lack of conviction. 'We're this close to

defeating the enemy,' Far-a-mael growled,

holding his thumb and finger slightly ajar.

'There's no one left to fight.' Gez-reil

threw out his arms incredulously. 'We have

one very small hadoan spread out across

eight cleffs. You've killed everybody else.'

49

Cael McIntosh

'That's why this time I'll be taking the

boys and the older men into battle.' Far-a-

mael shrugged. 'We'll also be enlisting

female an'hadoans.'

'Gordin has fallen!' Gez-reil shouted, his

face flushing red with frustration. 'What's

left between us and them? Egsean? Abnatol?

How long do you expect these pacifist

nations to stand up against a silt invasion?

No . . . no, Far-a-mael. It's time to look for

other methods by which to resolve this

matter.'

'No,' Far-a-mael said firmly.

'Unfortunately for you,' Gez-reil replied as

the high elders gathered behind him, 'you

no longer have a say in the matter.'

'Unfortunately for you,' Far-a-mael

uttered almost inaudibly, 'I'll do as I please.'

With that he raised his arms and watched

Gez-reil's face fill with disbelief as they

vanished to be replaced by thousands of

moths. A moment later Far-a-mael's legs

disappeared and his torso drifted toward the

ceiling on a cloud of insects. The room

darkened and the walls creaked.

'What is this?' Gez-reil inhaled sharply

and took a step back. 'Some new trick of the

Ways? I'm not scared of you, Far-a-mael.'

'You should be,' Far-a-mael murmured

before his face, too, disappeared and his

consciousness became scattered among

countless smaller minds. Individually, they

were capable of very little thought, but as

one they created an entire mind. At Far-a-

mael's command, the moths located Dam-

al's shocked expression and surged toward

50

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

his gaping mouth. They churned down his

throat and filled up his lungs. The man

coughed and choked and even enlisted the

Ways, but however he tried, he could not

dislodge the insects.

'Far-a-mael,' Gez-reil cried as the high

elders surrounding him started falling and

choking. 'Stop this.' By the time Far-a-mael

was done, Gez-reil's eyes glittered with

tears and he remained the only living man in

the room. 'What have you done?' He

shuddered in horror as Far-a-mael's body

resumed its previous form.

'I've taught you a powerful lesson.' He

narrowed his eyes as they came into

existence above his nose. 'Beautiful, isn't it?'

He lifted his arm as the remaining moths

struggled and squirmed into position,

forming the familiar shape of a human hand.

'What are you?' Gez-reil stumbled

backward. 'Because this,' he waved his hand

before him, 'is not the man I once knew. This

isn't Far-a-mael.'

'Of course I'm Far-a-mael.' He gazed

disdainfully upon the fallen elders. 'After my

parents were murdered, you became a

brother to me. And Sar-ni, your sister, later

became my wife. We had a daughter, but

sadly, she, too, has passed away. You see?'

Far-a-mael smiled reassuringly. 'I'm exactly

who I say I am.'

'Far-a-mael.' Gez-reil came close and

gazed into his eyes. 'You've just killed seven

people. What's wrong with you?'

'Nothing.' Far-a-mael laughed. 'That's just

it. I feel better than I have in my entire life.'

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Cael McIntosh

Gez-reil took a cautious step forward and

reached out to put a hand on Far-a-mael's

shoulder. His eyes widened slowly as

knowledge slithered through his touch. 'Oh,

no,' the older man whispered. 'A whisp. Far-

a-mael, my dear old friend,' he sobbed, 'you

may feel alive, but I assure you that you

already died on the battlefield.'

'I cannot die,' Far-a-mael stated with

finality. 'I am Maker's Holy Spirit.'

'What are you talking about?' Gez-reil

turned away. 'You don't even believe in the

Tome.'

'I do now,' Far-a-mael murmured. 'The

Holy Tome speaks of the Spirit of Maker

arriving with the clouds and I just arrived to

you as a cloud of moths.'

'Leave this place, whisp.' Gez-reil flicked

out his hand dismissively. He pushed passed

Far-a-mael and made his way toward the

exit. In a single fluid motion, Far-a-mael

transformed into thousands of winged

bodies, only to reassemble a second later in

front of Gez-reil to block the doorway.

'Think about it carefully,' Far-a-mael

insisted. 'I've been killed twice and each

time I've come back from the dead.'

'I assure you,' Gez-reil said bitterly, 'the

Far-a-mael that I knew is still dead.'

'With time, dear friend,' Far-a-mael put

his hand on Gez-reil's shoulder, 'I am certain

you will come to think differently. For now, I

have business to attend to.' He smiled

warmly and made his way out of the room.

Gez-reil did not follow.

After striding through a network of

52

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

seemingly endless corridors, Far-a-mael

found the door to his sleeping quarters wide

open, voices coming from within. 'What are

you doing?' He snapped at the portly woman

inside.

'We were directed to clean out your

room.' The woman's chin quivered. 'I'm so

sorry, War Elder. We were told you'd fallen

in battle.'

'It's an honest mistake,' Far-a-mael's

voice softened. 'Now, please, be on your

way. I have urgent matters to tend to.'

'Certainly,' the woman replied as she and

another younger lady hurried out of the

room.

Far-a-mael stepped inside and closed the

door, relieved finally to be alone. He strode

passed the comfortable-looking furniture

and threw open the doors upon reaching the

other side of the room. Before Far-a-mael

was able to access the balcony, a biting wind

tore through the doorway and dislodged

several of his moths, which then had to fight

against it to dig their way back in.

Fighting against the wind, Far-a-mael

stepped out onto the balcony overlooking

the better part of the cleff below. His room

was one of the highest in the pyramid and

seeing the wall slope away beneath him was

unnerving to say the least.

'Find her,' Far-a-mael whispered. A small

cloud of moths swept away from his body.

He felt diminished without them, but he had

decided that this matter was important

enough to suffer some temporary

discomfort. 'Find her,' he murmured. 'Find

53

Cael McIntosh

Seteal.'

*

'I'm hungry,' Noah rumbled irritably at

one of his many servants.

'May I fetch you some food, my Devil?'

The skinny little silt bowed fearfully, his legs

shaking as he did.

'Yes.' Noah smiled. 'Get me that young

blond girl we found earlier . . . and I think

I'll have her mother for dinner,' he finished,

strumming his thick grey fingers on the

armrest of the previous king's throne in

Beldin. 'And, slave,' Noah addressed the

man as he hurried toward the exit, 'do it

quickly, or else I'll be having you for desert.'

Jakob entered as the young silt left. 'My

Lordship,' he said with false humility. 'You

sent for me.'

'Humans must kneel in my presence,'

Noah uttered expectantly and waited as

Jakob lowered himself to the floor. 'Now,'

Noah began, 'you remember our dear friend

Ilgrin?'

'You mean Sa'Enoch?' Jakob replied, his

tone dangerously challenging.

'Don't push me, Jakob.' Noah stood,

revealing the enormity of his imposing

presence. 'I want you to find him and report

his location back to me.'

'May I bother you to find out why?' Jakob

replied cautiously. 'The legion is now yours.

Nobody would speak out against a man so

clearly the true Devil.' The young man

gestured regally toward Noah.

54

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

'You're a slippery one, aren't you?' Noah

growled. 'I don't fall for your displays. I

know exactly what you are Jakob: a

scoundrel, a worm, a creature with no

integrity. But I will tell you my reasons for

finding Ilgrin. I'll do so because I want you

to understand exactly what I'll do to you if

you fail me. I want you to find Ilgrin because

he disrespected me by his pretence at

playing the Devil. A man like that could

potentially trick fools like you into believing

in him a second time. He is a threat and

therefore I intend to eliminate him.'

'Then why not just send an assassin?'

Jakob enquired further.

'Because I'm going to eat him,' Noah

stated unapologetically. Jakob squirmed

uncomfortably at the sound of a girl

screaming somewhere in the building. 'Now

get out,' Noah snapped and watched in

satisfaction as the man all but ran from the

room.

Noah found himself having to swallow

repeatedly against the flow of saliva

entering his mouth as the intensity of

screaming increased and his meal grew

close. At last his servant thrust a teenage

girl into the room and slammed the door

behind her. The human child collapsed at the

mere sight of Noah, causing him to laugh

hysterically.

'Please,' she begged. 'Please don't hurt

me.'

'Come here,' Noah ordered. 'Come to me

and I won't hurt you.'

The girl approached nervously, but as

55

Cael McIntosh

soon as she came within reach Noah

snatched a handful of her curly blonde hair

and dragged her the remaining distance.

Ignoring her screams, Noah rose to his feet

bearing yellow fangs and drooling on her

face. He sniffed her several times in order to

truly appreciate such a tantalising snack.

'Oh, you will be delicious.' Noah lunged

forward and tore a chunk out of the girl's

face.

Blood poured across the floor as she

howled and shook in fits. Noah moaned in

delight as he chewed on her flesh. He traced

his finger through her blood and sucked it

dry before turning back to his food and

biting off one of her fingers. Her bones

crunched between Noah's teeth as he

delighted in her taste. He wiped a red-

blooded hand beneath his nose to fully enjoy

the aroma before taking another bite out of

the child's face and revealing a greater

portion of the human skull.

Noah enjoyed the suffering of his victim

almost as much as he enjoyed the meal

itself. It was always a disappointment when

they died, as they always seemed to do long

before he'd finished. Nevertheless, Noah

continued feasting until not a single piece of

flesh remained.

56

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

Jer-em-iah 25

30. Therefore prophesy thou against them

all these words, and say unto them: 'The

Lord Maker shall roar from on high, and utter

His voice from His holy habitation; He shall

mightily roar upon His habitation; He shall

give a vengeful shout against all the

inhabitants of the earth.

31. A noise shall come even to the ends of

the Earth, for the Lord hath a fury with the

nations. He will plead with all flesh; He will

give them that displease Him to the sword.'

32. Thus saith the Lord and Maker:

'Behold, evil shall go forth from nation to

nation, and the great cloud filled with sins

collected since the beginning will be raised

up from the south.'

33. And the slain of the Lord shall be at

that day from one end of the Earth even unto

the other end of the Earth. They shall not be

lamented, neither gathered, nor buried; they

shall be dung upon the ground.

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

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Cael McIntosh

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

58

## 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.

59

Cael McIntosh

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

60

The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

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

61

Cael McIntosh

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

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

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

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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.'

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'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.'

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'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?'

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'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

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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

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and demons . . . you and me . . . soon enough

we'll be going back to Hae'Evun.'

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## 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

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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

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Cael McIntosh

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

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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.

Seeol rode atop the brown mare, picking

lice out of its hair and eating them as the

animal trotted through the eerie solitude of

the road out of Beldin. He didn't much like

the taste of lice, but he yet lacked the

strength to properly hunt. 'Seteal,' he called

over to the woman sitting silently with a

wooden crate balanced on her knees.

'Yes?'

'It'll being okay.' He bobbed his head

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Cael McIntosh

reassuringly, but his friend only looked away

with glistening eyes.

Seeol bit down especially hard on the

louse between his mandibles and felt it pop.

He was so ridden with guilt. He'd heard

Father Marcel telling Seteal all about the

Stone of the Devil back at the church. It was

the key to the gates of Hae'Evun and Seeol

had lost it during his transformation in the

battle at the borderlands. It'd been in his

pocket, but when he'd become an owl again,

his clothes had fallen away, down into the

seemingly endless abyss that had been cut

through the earth. How could Seeol possibly

tell Seteal that he'd lost their only chance of

salvation and he'd lost it for all eternity?

'Daddy Muscle.' Seeol turned to the

Father.

'It's Father Marcel,' the man corrected

him irritably, adjusting his funny white

collar.

'Could you pleasing tell some of us more

about this silly Tome?'

'The Holy Tome is not silly!'

'El-i-mish says so.' Seeol puffed out his

feathers. 'Does good things happening with

your Spirit?'

'The Holy Spirit will come as a thief in the

night,' Marcel replied cryptically.

'The Spirit is a thief?' Seeol retracted his

head sharply. 'That is so naughty. Do go on!'

'No, I didn't say that.' Marcel's tone

revealed exasperation. He turned to Seteal.

'Does it even understand what we're saying

or is it just mimicking?'

Her eyes met with Seeol's. 'To be honest,

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I'm really not sure,' she uttered after a long

period of silence. 'He understands some

things, but it's impossible to tell how much

exactly.'

'Yes, is understanding,' Seeol snapped

defensively, before rubbing his beak back

and forth furiously across the horse's flank.

'Sprit Sprit Sprit.'

'Well . . . perhaps I could teach you a

little.' Father Marcel looked at Seteal

sideways, who had again turned away. Seeol

narrowed his eyes. He was under no

illusions as to who the man was addressing.

He was simply speaking to Seeol as a

method of reaching Seteal. 'It is written that

the Holy Spirit will cometh with the clouds

of sorrow. Maker's Spirit will come down in

the end times when the entire world is on

the brink of destruction. The Spirit will be

born half from the bloodlines of the ancient

prophets and half from the blood of sinners.

It is written that the Spirit will seek out the

key to the gates of Hae'Evun, but it will

constantly elude Her.'

'Her?' Seteal turned with a smirk.

'Indeed. The Tome often refers to the

Holy Spirit as female, but occasionally as a

male as well, depending on the context. The

consensus of most theologians is that the

Tome refers to the Spirit as male because

He is the Spirit of Maker, but also as a

female because She is described as having

great vulnerability and compassion.'

Seteal rolled her eyes at the blatant

example of gender stereotyping before

closing them and resting her head. 'I can't

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Cael McIntosh

believe people live and die by this rot.'

'Don't be silly,' Seeol reprimanded his

friend. 'Sometimes everyone needs hope. If

the sad people don't believe in all this

silliness they would be too sad to breathe.'

'I'd rather the hideous truth over a

beautiful lie.' Seteal frowned. 'I'd prefer to

live my life in misery and know what's real,

rather than take place in such a farce.'

'Not me,' Seeol said sadly. 'We is all going

to be dead soon enough. Happy times that is

not real is better than never having happy

times at all.'

'What's wrong with you two?' Marcel

snapped. 'The Holy Tome is the truth! It is

the Word of Maker delivered through the

hands of His prophets.'

Seteal and Seeol simultaneously turned to

stare at Marcel. 'You're serious, aren't you?'

Seeol was genuinely surprised.

Seteal shook her head. 'You'd get along

with my father.'

'Your father is a man of Maker?'

'Yes.' Seteal smiled for the first time in

many days. 'He's a good man. I think you'd

like him.'

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## CHAPTER SIX

### NOTHING LEFT OF ME

It was very dark and very late. Marcel had

woken her up so it wasn't entirely her fault.

But the way Seeol now looked at her . . . her

heart thundered.

They'd been on a bumpy dirt road, which

after several days of travel had had the

effect of rocking Seteal to sleep. She'd been

dreaming--vividly. It'd been horrible. Master

Fasil was there. It was happening all over

again. She'd been just as defenceless as

before. She'd been running through the

field. He'd pulled her hair and she'd fallen to

the grass. He'd lightly tapped her knee and

quite suddenly she was in a horse and buggy

with him. She remembered her connection

to the Ways and severed his soul in an

instance.

Farther Marcel's face was mostly

obscured in the dark. Seteal leaned over him

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Cael McIntosh

on the dirt road where his body had fallen

from the buggy. Tears fell from her chin and

wet the earth as Seteal rocked back and

forth on her knees. She was a danger to

everybody she knew. There was nothing

human left, she having become a killer right

down to her cold soul. Seeol watched her

from atop the buggy. Somehow his eyes bore

repulsion.

'Go ahead and hate me, Seeol,' Seteal

choked out.

She straightened the Father's robes,

before tracing her eyes along the earth over

to a wooden post penetrating its surface.

The sign was very old, but the word carved

into it was still clearly visible: Elmsville.

Father Marcel had been waking her up to

tell her they'd arrived. And she'd killed him

for his efforts. It was not safe for her to re-

join the ones she loved. Seteal cast her eyes

over the carved sign. She recognised her

father's work. She remembered watching

him make it many years earlier.

'What's that for?' she'd asked Gifn at five

years of age upon finding him in the

workshop.

'This is so people will know where we

live,' Gifn had replied, his tone soothing.

'But why?' Seteal had demanded a better

answer.

'Perhaps you should ask the mayor at the

meeting tomorrow.'

'Okay,' Seteal had huffed, before striding

out of the workshop. Gifn had probably

expected a normal, happy life for her. What

a disappointment she must've turned out to

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be.

'Who goes there?' a man called

suspiciously, jogging up toward Seteal.

'Under order of the night guard, I command

you answer.'

Night guard? Things had changed in

Elmsville. 'Seteal Eltari,' she sobbed.

'The Seteal Eltari?' The man approached.

'Gifn Eltari's daughter?'

'Don't come any closer,' Seteal warned,

but it was too late and the man froze.

'Is that a body?'

'Brindon,' Seteal said his name pleadingly

when she recognised his face from their

childhood. 'I didn't mean to. You must

believe me.'

'There have been stories, Set.' The young

man bit his lip. 'Mister Eltari thinks you're

dead. Others say you became a Sa'Tanist.'

Brindon shakily raised his sword. 'And . . .

there's a dead man on the ground right

now.'

'Okay,' Seteal said quietly, taking a shaky

step forward. 'People always gossip, but you

have to trust me.'

'Wh-what's in the box?' Brindon stuttered.

'Nothing.'

'Put it down.' Brindon took a step back to

match with the one Seteal had taken

forward.

'I won't.'

'Put it down.'

'No,' Seteal felt the word leave her lips

before she abruptly vanished into another

place, the knowing stripping through her to

leave her with an understanding that she

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Cael McIntosh

would regret forever. 'Oh, no,' she wailed,

leaping forward.

Brindon brought down his sword in fright.

It cracked against the wooden crate and

sliced Parrowun's body in half. Seteal

watched the pieces tumble to the ground.

She watched her son's innards spill across

the dirt. But there was no time. She ran

away from Parrowun, away from Brindon.

She ran down a dark path. The Ways became

one with Seteal's muscles, allowing her to

run so fast that each foot touched the

ground no sooner than every four or five

strides.

'Come back!' Brindon's shout faded to

obscurity.

'Please don't,' Seteal begged as she ran.

She burst into the town centre with a rush of

air. She snapped past the first row of houses

and hit her front door so that it banged

open. An explosion left her ears ringing and

blood sprayed across her face as the back of

Gifn Eltari's scull exploded into a thousand

little pieces.

She stood in the space of the door. Gifn's

head slumped forward and the pistol toppled

from his hand. Seteal heard every beat of

her heart as she crossed the room in slow-

motion. She stood before her father's

favourite chair, now dripping with red. His

precious Holy Tome was open on the table

beside him. Seteal put a finger beneath his

chin and raised his head so that she could

gaze into his blank eyes.

'What did I expect?' she said to nobody,

before releasing her father's head to gravity.

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Moving to the darkest corner of the room,

Seteal wedged her back up against the wall

and slid down its length until she was sitting

on the floor. She kept her knees up under

her chin and stared at Gifn's expressionless

face. Tears didn't come. Her heart rate

didn't increase. She didn't feel pain. Finally,

she'd become immune.

'There is nothing left. All right, Father.'

Seteal rose, 'I'll get this all cleaned up. You

just rest.'

She stepped out onto the landing and

made her way down the steps as the entire

town arrived to investigate the sound they'd

heard. Familiar faces hovered above hands

lit up by the torches they held. Not one of

them lacked an expression of disbelief.

'Sound the alarm!' Brindon shouted as he

finally caught up. 'She's a demon

worshipper.'

Seteal carved her way through the silent

crowd of stunned onlookers. Perhaps

something had changed in her face;

something that immobilised them. No one

tried to stop her. She was left unhindered as

she headed back up to where she'd left

Parrowun. She scooped up the pieces of his

body and wrapped them in a blanket with at

least a hundred faces watching in wide-eyed

disbelief.

Seteal pushed back through the crowd

and went home. People were inside staring

at Gifn's body like it was an exhibition at a

travelling circus. 'Get out,' Seteal intoned,

but the air around her rippled and her voice

emanated with power. The townsfolk

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obeyed. Seteal shut the door and leant

against it. She stared across the sitting room

and into the kitchen where her father had

made her breakfast the day she'd been

taken.

The house was different now. It smelt of

dust and mildew. The windows didn't look as

though they'd been opened in a very long

time. Seteal touched the wall and slid her

hand along its surface, before making her

way back to her father's chair. 'This is your

grandson,' she said, feeling the arrival of

tears for the first time since she'd been

back. But they lasted only as long as it took

for her to place Parrowun's decaying body

into her father's arms. 'I'm so sorry you

couldn't have met,' she whispered. 'I have to

keep him wrapped up now.'

Gifn's head fell a little lower, almost as

though he were bending over to kiss his

bundled up grandson. Seteal stepped back

and imagined the room illuminated by bright

sunlight. She dreamt of the fragrant smell of

the flowers she'd gathered for the table as a

child, knowing that her mother had often

done that very same thing before she'd died.

Seteal pretended that the wallpaper wasn't

peeling in all the corners. She imagined her

father laughing. It sounded thunderous to

the ears of a child. Parrowun would be

giggling and poking at his cheek with a tiny

finger. Gifn would stand up and twirl her son

around in circles as he'd once done for her.

Seteal found herself standing in a dark

and silent room that she didn't recognise.

There was a dead man in her father's chair.

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She turned away from reality and into the

warmth of her mind. She ran toward the

staircase and bounced up them two at a

time, knowing that when she got to the top

she could dive into her mother's arms. She

raced along the hallway and into her

parent's room, only to find a hundred

cobwebs and an unmade bed.

The small room down the hallway was

empty as well. Seteal looked at her bed. This

room was different. This one was clean. The

furniture had been kept in order and her

sheets were fresh. When Seteal rested her

head, she was able to enjoy the scent of

lavender on her pillow. But the pillow was

wet. She touched it to discover her face was

hot, covered in tears. She pulled the sheets

up over her head and curled into a ball as

low mournful cries shook her.

*

The mirror on Seteal's bedroom wall

reflected a face that was scarcely

recognisable. Her eyes were puffy and dark.

Her hair was a mess and her face was

devoid of the healthy colour she'd always

been proud of. She hadn't slept, but the sun

had come up and she had responsibilities.

There had been a recent drop in

temperature, but Seteal hadn't changed her

clothes in days, still wearing the blood-

spattered dress she'd been wearing in

Beldin. After making her way downstairs,

she used the hand pump in the kitchen to fill

a small bucket beneath the spout. The water

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banged about inside the copper pipes,

before splashing messily into the bucket.

Once several buckets of water had been

boiled over the fireplace and dumped into

the bathtub, Seteal peeled off her clothes

and slid into the quickly cooling water. Her

skin immediate turned bright red, but she

enjoyed the sting. After resting for a while,

she picked up a brush and block of soap to

scrub away the dried blood that covered her.

It wasn't until the water had gone cold,

that Seteal realised what'd kept her

immobile so long. Her eyes had been locked

on her father's slumped figure across the

room. That, and the bundle in his arms.

'Okay,' Seteal said through gritted teeth.

'I'm up.' She sighed, standing and towelling

off before making her way up stairs.

When Seteal came back down she wore a

black dress and heavy coat with a matching

scarf wrapped around her neck. She

scooped up the dress she'd left on the floor,

made her way out to the midden, and

dumped it in the bin. She turned and headed

for the workshop attached to the side of the

house, but when she got to the door she

found herself quite unable to open it.

'Seteal,' a familiar voice called.

'Mister Beura.' She turned toward the

man who she remembered as her father's

best friend. He was big with a warm smile

and a thick black beard.

'I heard you were back.' Rarmin Beura

was clearly dumbfounded by her

reappearance. 'Where've you been?'

Seteal stared into the man's eyes. How

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could she possibly answer such a question?

How could any amount of words express

what she'd been through to a man who'd

never been further than Gor?

'I . . . ' Seteal shook her head, unable to

find any words to speak. Perhaps her eyes

said enough.

'Oh, my dear Seteal.' Rarmin wrapped her

in his arms and stroked her hair as she

sobbed into his shoulder.

'I just hoped that one day I could come

back,' Seteal said. 'I thought that in the end

I could come back and everything would be

okay.'

The sound of hundreds of silt wings

approaching filled Seteal's ears. She craned

her neck and watched the distant figures

flickering against the sun as their shadows

slithered along the ground beneath. The

legion passed overhead, their sights set on

one of the northern cities; perhaps even

Sitnic or Gor.

'I don't think anything will ever be the

same for any of us.' Rarmin sighed as the

low rumble faded into the distance.

'I have to bury them.' Seteal pulled away

and opened the door to Gifn's workshop.

Rarmin followed Seteal's gaze to the

large table at the centre of the room on

which sat a readymade coffin. 'When he

returned, Gifn all but forgot about the

business, but sometimes I'd see the lantern

in the window late at night. I guess now we

know why.'

'When he'd returned?' Seteal asked in

confusion. 'What do you mean?'

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Cael McIntosh

'Oh!' Rarmin put a hand to his mouth. 'Of

course, you couldn't have known. He

followed every rumour, snatch of gossip, and

lie until he'd tracked you to the Frozen

Lands. I told him not to go.' Rarmin

frowned. 'I told him not to play games with

the Elglair.'

'But he returned,' Seteal said slowly.

'Yes,' Rarmin frowned, 'but he was

different. He'd been convinced by someone

that you were dead. I told him that unless

he'd seen your body he couldn't be sure, but

he was utterly convinced.'

'Did he mention a name?' Seteal

narrowed her eyes, her hands shaking with

hatred.

'Yes,' Rarmin murmured. 'It was an odd

name. I can't quite recall it, but Gifn did tell

me that the man had been your mother's

father.'

'Far-a-mael,' Seteal's voice shook. 'Far-a-

mael did this to him.'

'Yes.' Rarmin clicked his fingers. 'That

was it.'

'Would you be so kind as to help me with

my father's coffin, Mister Beura?' Seteal

asked coldly. 'I'd like to get it inside before

the rest of the town wakes up with a taste

for my blood.'

'It'll be okay, Seteal,' Rarmin reassured

her. 'Nobody actually believes that young

fool Brindon. We know you didn't kill the

preacher.'

'Are you quite so sure?' Seteal muttered

as she moved to the other side of the coffin

and waited for Rarmin to pick up his end.

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'You can lift it,' Rarmin said

disbelievingly, Seteal having absentmindedly

already picked up her end with one hand.

She quickly put her other hand beneath the

coffin and pretended to strain.

'I got it.'

'I could make a smaller one for the boy,'

Rarmin offered, shuffling backward through

the door.

'That would be very kind.'

'Might I ask about the father?'

'He's dead,' Seteal snarled.

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be.'

As they made their way around to the

front of the house the early risers of the

village ceased their various tasks and turned

to stare at Seteal as she passed. As she

made her way up the front steps she

watched the people gather into small groups

where they glanced at her and whispered

among themselves. They could gossip all

they wanted, but they would never

understand what Seteal had been through.

Nobody could.

Seeol landed near the top of a nearby

tree. The elf owl's eyes locked on Seteal's

and somehow she knew exactly what they

were saying: that when everyone else was

gone, when she'd been forsaken by the ones

she loved, as little as it was worth he would

be there. Forever watching with his piercing

golden eyes. Whether that was a good thing

or not was another matter entirely.

*

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Cael McIntosh

Seeol watched Seteal and the stranger

dragging a large wooden box into her house.

He felt sad. Seteal was so upset and he

didn't know how to make her feel better. It

was so cruel of the Ways to take away her

father on the night of her return.

People made excuses to linger on the road

in front of Seteal's house. He moved the

feathers of his facial disk to better capture

their voices from his place far above. 'It is

awfully suspicious that he died on the same

night of her return,' an older woman said

snippily as she tightened her bonnet.

'I know,' a second replied. 'Mistress Tess

told me that she saw the girl go inside and

then heard the pistol go off. And I must say,

Mister Eltari never struck me as one to take

his own life. His daughter, on the other

hand--'

'Oh, yes.' the first woman cut her off with

a hand to her lips. 'I taught her to read, you

know, and I have to agree she always was a

little strange, even back then.'

On the other side of the street, a similar

conversation was taking place between two

fat men with excessively large moustaches.

Seeol swooped toward the gossiping women

and landed at their feet.

'Seteal is the bestest and most loveliest

and you is naughty bad silly people

talking . . . stupid things!' he shouted

furiously before returning to his tree. That'd

shut their stupid faces up! Seeol watched in

satisfaction as the villagers scurried away,

their faces reflecting bewilderment.

88

## CHAPTER SEVEN

### LOST

'El-i-miir!' Ilgrin shouted through a raw

throat for what felt like the thousandth time.

'El-i-miir!'

'Ilgrin,' Teah said sharply, slapping a hand

down on his shoulder. 'We've been combing

these woods for days. I'm tired.'

'Me, too,' Ilgrin acknowledged the angel's

frustration, without fully understanding her

meaning. 'El-i-miir!' he shouted again.

'Ilgrin,' Teah snapped. 'Your wing is fit for

flight.'

'Thank Maker,' he said distractedly. 'We'll

be able to leave as soon as we find her.'

'Don't you think maybe it's time to

consider that maybe--'

'No,' Ilgrin barked. 'We will not give up

on her. I won't.' He waved a finger in the

angel's face, blinking away the beginnings of

tears. 'I won't give up on her and neither

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Cael McIntosh

will you, because she's out here somewhere.

She's scared and alone and I promised I'd

come back for her.'

Teah rolled her eyes in exasperation.

'There are more important matters to be

dealt with.'

'Like what?' Ilgrin raged.

'All right.' Teah took a few steps back.

'You really want to know? Fine. Follow me,'

she hissed before spinning into the air with

broad wing strokes. She reached the lower

branches of one of the highest trees before

turning to wave Ilgrin up and continued

climbing by hand and foot.

Ilgrin sprang into the air and alighted

where Teah had been standing moments

earlier. As disconnected as he'd always felt

from his own kind, Ilgrin never had quite

grasped the purpose of their extreme

strength. Watching Teah climb gave him the

answer. Following the angel's speedy ascent,

Ilgrin dug his fingers and toes into the bark

and started his ascension.

The trunk swayed gently as he pierced

the canopy, nearing the top of the tree.

When he found Teah resting on a slender

branch, Ilgrin swung his weight through the

air, spread his toes and clamped them

around the same branch. 'What're we

looking at?' he asked too soon, already

having found the answer to his question.

'Now do you understand?' Teah

murmured.

'So far north?' Ilgrin said nervously,

watching the mighty black whisp clouds of

Old World churning steadily. His eyes fell to

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

the dark shadow moving through the trees

no more than several miles to the south.

'Why is it doing that?'

'I know you don't believe in any of this,'

Teah said sadly, 'but this is just another sign

spoken of in the Holy Tome. "The great

cloud filled with sins collected since the

beginning will be raised up from the south."

Maker has returned to us in the form of His

Holy Spirit and we must go to Her.'

'Teah, I . . .'

'I know.' She sighed. 'You have to find El-

i-miir, but don't you see? She's not here

anymore. It's time to consider that maybe

she's--'

'Don't say it,' Ilgrin cut her off.

'I was only going to say that maybe she

headed back to Elmsville on her own.' Teah

frowned. 'You don't need to be so protective.

I've known a few gils in my time and her

mastery of the Ways is unparalleled.'

Ilgrin looked away. 'She wouldn't leave

without me.'

'Are you sure of that?' Teah asked.

'Maybe she recognises the signs as well as I

do. You once told me she'd been raised in a

religious family. Perhaps she's beginning to

accept the fact that your relationship has no

future. For that matter, maybe you should,

too.'

'I don't believe this "loving Maker" you

trust in so much would tear us apart like

that.'

'Loving!' Teah burst out laughing. 'Oh,

sure, the Holy Tome mentions a loving

Maker a few times, but more often than not

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Cael McIntosh

He's referred to as a wrathful or vengeful

Maker. We must love and obey Him, but

nobody ever said He had to follow the same

rules. He doesn't care about your human

love affair. Maker is more concerned with

justice and balance to the Ways than He is

with our pathetic little problems.'

'If she thought I'd gone,' Ilgrin mused,

'she would have headed after Seteal.'

Perhaps Teah was right. After all, they'd

been searching for days. 'But if she'd

wanted to find me, the Ways would've

guided her.'

'Exactly,' Teah said empathetically.

'So she's either gone off on her own, or

she's . . .' Ilgrin couldn't finish. 'All right.' He

nodded slowly. 'Let's go and find Seteal.'

*

El-i-miir dropped her spoon into a bowl of

porridge and watched it flick back over the

edge. She saw the big lump of goo fly

through the air and splatter across Jisinia's

face. 'Ouch.' The woman got to her feet and

scrapped at her face in an effort to wipe

away the hot substance.

'I'm so sorry,' El-i-miir called from the

bed, but her heart wasn't in the apology. She

was still distracted by a shuddering light

that'd passed through her aura just

moments earlier. Ilgrin had given up on her.

She'd felt the moment when he'd decided to

leave and had never felt so utterly alone.

'That's all right, dear,' Jisinia replied,

hurrying from the room in search of a wet

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cloth. When she returned she had a bright

red spot in the middle of her forehead.

'Really,' El-i-miir repeated. 'I'm sorry. It

must have slipped. You've all been so kind to

me and in return you end up with a spoon of

porridge thrown in your face.'

'Honestly, it's okay,' Jisinia insisted,

before inhaling sharply and again turning to

leave. 'I'll be back.'

Ordinarily, El-i-miir couldn't read

thoughts, but in this case it'd been pretty

obvious the woman was in desperate need of

some cold water. El-i-miir retrieved another

scoop and raised it to her lips, pausing to

blow on the surface. She felt the warm

steam, but had lost her appetite. She put the

spoon back and rolled out of bed with a

hand covering the bandages on the side of

her chest. 'I have to go,' El-i-miir muttered

as she entered the kitchen where she found

Jisinia washing her face.

'Pardon?' The woman pulled her head

away and flushed red with embarrassment.

'You mustn't leave yet.' She took hold of El-i-

miir's arm. 'You're still not well.'

'I have to find someone.' El-i-miir ignored

the woman when she tried to argue. She was

beyond hearing. So distracted El-i-miir had

been by the feeling she'd received in

regards to Ilgrin that she'd been temporarily

blinded to the remainder of the Ways.

Jisinia's mouth moved continuously as El-

i-miir stood spellbound by the invisible

streak of red light slicing through the

window. She was an expert at interpreting

the Ways, but even El-i-miir had a hard time

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Cael McIntosh

believing the message shining through. 'Get

down!' El-i-miir shouted, diving toward

Jisinia and slamming her to the ground.

Glass shattered into thousands of pieces

as Divad sailed through the windowpane and

slammed into the opposite wall. His body

was covered in blood and his eyes were

filled with shock. The front door swung open

as Barnin entered the house accompanied by

screams coming in from the dirt road

outside.

'They're here,' he choked out.

They'd all known it was only a matter of

time before the silt invasion reached them,

but now that the day had come, it felt like

it'd done so too soon. 'Out the back,' El-i-

miir urged the others, wincing at the popped

stitches in her side. There was blood on her

hand to match the bandages covering her

wound. 'I'll distract them.'

'We can't just leave you here,' Jisinia

objected.

'Please,' El-i-miir gasped at the pain in

her side. 'There are things I can do.'

'We're not going anywhere,' Divad rasped

as he dusted himself off and clambered to

his feet.

'You don't understand,' El-i-miir pleaded

with him.

'No,' Barnin said firmly. 'We're the reason

you're in this situation to begin with.'

Outside there was an explosion and

moments later El-i-miir heard the sound of

crackling flames accompanied by the smell

of thick smoke. 'They're burning us out,' she

murmured, closing her eyes to gather

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

herself. 'Everyone stay behind me and don't

do anything stupid.'

With a single fluid motion El-i-miir threw

open the front door ran out into the sunlight.

The Ways howled a warning. El-i-miir

grabbed Jisinia's arm and yanked her

sharply to the side. As she did so a gun

popped and the bullet whizzed passed.

Pushing the woman aside, El-i-miir leapt

forward and tripped Divad over. Silt toes

missed him by a handswidth.

'Quickly!' El-i-miir shouted, limping only a

few paces before tripping over her baggy

pants.

'Gotcha!' An excited young silt leapt

around the corner and levelled his pistol at

El-i-miir's face. She threw up her hands and

his aura was shattered by affiliation. The silt

cocked his gun and blew his brains out.

'This way,' El-i-miir encouraged the others

to follow her between two buildings. A

demon swooped low, wrapped his toes

around Barnin's shoulders and lifted him

into the air, but El-i-miir affiliated the silt

into releasing him. The man toppled a few

strides back to the ground, but seemed fine

other than having developed a slight limp.

The four poured into the centre of town to

witness a scene that El-i-miir was sorry to

acknowledge she'd become accustomed to.

Humans were yanked into the air only to be

released to plummet to their inevitable

demise: the demons' preferred method of

assassination. They did not discriminate

between men, women, and children when

they made their kills.

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Cael McIntosh

El-i-miir ignored the throbbing in her side

as she spun around, tossing tendrils of

affiliation in every direction. She ducked

bullets before they came, refusing again to

suffer the agony she'd faced in recent days.

'Barnin!' El-i-miir screamed as she felt a

black powder bomb being dropped too late.

The old man's eyes met with hers as he was

engulfed in flames, having strayed too close

to the targeted house.

'Barnin!' Jisinia screamed hysterically as

she watched her husband running about

howling. No part of his body was free of

flames. Finally, the man fell on his face and

became very still. Jisinia fell to her knees,

leaving El-i-miir with no option but to drag

her back up.

'We have to keep going!' she cried. 'We

have to . . . Divad!' She turned in time to see

a silt snapping his neck before El-i-miir had

the chance to take possession. The young

man hit the earth and Jisinia fell on top of

him in mourning. 'I'm sorry,' El-i-miir backed

away, her eyes glancing nervously about the

sky. 'I'm sorry, Jisinia. I tried, but I will not

stay here and die with you.'

'Go!' Jisinia shouted through tears. 'I

don't want to live.'

'I don't care,' E-i-miir snapped, affiliating

the woman and driving her to her feet. The

women hurried to the western end of town

and kept running. An older legion soldier

crashed down and snarled, lifting his gun.

But again El-i-miir made him shoot himself

instead, her eyes filled with tears for what

they were making her do. Perhaps it was for

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that reason she didn't see what was coming.

And maybe she hadn't felt it because she

was already affiliating Jisinia , or because

she was exhausted.

A demon landed gracefully and having

spotted El-i-miir's weakness, slammed a fist

into her side. She cried out in pain and lost

her hold on Jisinia! 'Leave her alone,' she

heard the woman shout, leaping at the

demon. The woman's body landed beside El-

i-miir with vacant eyes.

With spots on her vision, El-i-miir rolled

onto her back and looked into the female

demon's eyes. She raised her pistol and

levelled it at her face. 'No,' El-i-miir

whispered, taking a weak hold of the silt's

mind. So feeble was the hold that she could

neither make the demon lower her weapon

or fly away. A second silt landed and El-i-miir

gritted her teeth as she affiliated that one,

too. Then came a third and a fourth and a

fifth.

Pushing herself to her feet proved to be

difficult and El-i-miir almost lost hold of

those surrounding her. If she could focus on

just one, then perhaps she could find a way

out. She clambered toward a young male silt

with a pretty face and made him wrap his

arms around her.

'Get me out of here,' the silt whispered in

unison with El-i-miir.

Moments later, she felt the breeze on her

face as the two stole away from the horrific

scene below. When they'd made some

ground, El-i-miir felt her other strands

snapping. Keeping her eyes open was hard

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Cael McIntosh

work, but she needed to focus on beating

her wings and holding on to the woman in

her arms. He looked down at the Elglair

woman. He pitied herself. The pain in their

side was almost unbearable. El-i-miir forgot

to beat her wings and for a moment the two

dipped out of uncontrol.

'I must hold on,' she said through his

mouth. 'I must . . .'

El-i-miir felt the wind whipping through

her hair as she freefell. Her eyes flickered

open against the wind to see the silt

swooping about in confusion above, the

strand tethering them together becoming

increasingly weak. He glanced at the falling

human. Was he supposed to save her or kill

her? Weren't they the enemy? Hadn't the

legion trained him to feel nothing for these

humans? No! He was supposed to rescue

her. He . . . he was her.

El-i-miir retracted her wings and dove

toward the pale human as she came

increasingly closer to the ground. He threw

forward his toes and snatched her back into

his arms. El-i-miir felt herself in his strong

grip and knew she'd saved herself. He was

proud of himself for that. 'I'm okay,' the silt

mumbled. 'I've got me.'

The rhythm of their wings slowed in

preparation to land as El-i-miir felt her

strength waning. They landed on strong silt

legs and lowered the tired Elglair body into

the grass. 'I have to sleep now,' the silt

murmured as El-i-miir rolled onto her side, a

hand placed protectively over her wound.

The affiliation snapped and the Ways sang

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

sadist songs in preparation of delivering her

fate. She rolled onto her back as the silt tore

out his pistol. He was enraged at having

been manipulated. She could see it in his

eyes. The demon bared his teeth and put the

pistol half a handswidth from El-i-miir's face.

His features were not dissimilar to Ilgrin's

and for a moment El-i-miir was tricked into

thinking it was him. For just a moment.

Muscles tensed. His fingers squeezed. El-i-

miir pushed through the pain with a final

desperate cry. A pathetically feeble thread

slid into the silt's arm. The demon's eyes

widened in fear as he turned the gun against

himself.

'No!' He cried in perfect harmony with El-

i-miir. They pulled the trigger. Blood and

chunks of bone blew into the air. At last she

could rest.

99

## CHAPTER EIGHT

### A FUNERAL

The scrubbing brush had turned red. By that

point, it was probably replacing as much

blood as it was removing. All the same,

Seteal continued on in her feverish effort to

clean the floorboards. A bead of sweat fell to

mingle with the watery red puddle.

'Seteal,' Rarmin called in from outside.

She ignored him in the hope that he would

go away. She didn't want what he had come

to give her. 'I'll just leave it by the door, okay

then? All right. I'll see you later,' the man

finished, allowing Seteal to release a breath

held too long. His footfall thudded down the

front steps and vanished.

Seteal splashed the brush down into the

bucket and made her way outside. She

walked passed what Rarmin had left by the

door and slopped the contents of her bucket

over the landing. She moved back to the

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

front door, keeping her eyes straight ahead,

but came to an abrupt stop, her feet

together. She lowered her eyes and then

looked away on discovering the tiny coffin

that she had been expecting.

After carving it from oak, Rarmin had

polished it to perfection. The fumes from the

polish were overpowering and Seteal's nose

began to itch. She stared at the coffin for a

long time before dragging it inside where

she tiptoed around Gifn's drying blood. His

chair housed naught but the small bundle

she'd left in it, Mister Naa having collected

her father's coffin earlier. When Seteal

picked up the bundle, she did so carefully, so

as to avoid losing either half of Parrowun.

Dead people belonged in coffins. Little

babies did not.

After replacing Parrowun in her father's

chair, Seteal hurried next door and retrieved

a wooden crate from the workshop. It was a

sturdy box, similar to the one she'd used

travelling back to Elmsville. 'That's better.'

Seteal smiled as she placed Parrowun

within. 'You'll be more comfortable in here.

You're only sleeping now.'

Seteal felt for Parrowun's face and pulled

the blankets aside so that he wouldn't

suffocate. His skin had turned a strange

greyish yellow and the smell of decay was

almost overwhelming. All the same, Seteal

ignored it and stroked his soft blond hair

before putting the lid on the box and taking

it outside. She found a shovel in the

workshop and dug a hole beside the largest

tree in the yard.

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Cael McIntosh

The work was hard and the earth even

harder, but Seteal worked tirelessly until it

was at least a stride deep. She sat on the

grass and stared into the hole. She looked at

the box, then again at the hole. If Parrowun

was in danger of being smothered by his

blanket, he almost certainly wouldn't be

able to breath beneath all that dirt. Maybe

Seteal should've dug a shallower hole.

'For Maker's sake, he's dead,' she

reprimanded herself before lowering the box

into the earth. Although she'd only cast her

eyes upon them once, Seteal's memory of

the ugly red welts around Parrowun's neck

was still fresh. Perhaps it always would be.

'For what it's worth,' Seteal said as she

rose to her feet, 'I loved you for every

minute that I had with you and will do so for

the rest of my life.' It wasn't much of a

speech, but what did a mother say at her

child's burial when it had been she who'd

taken his life? After the hole had been

refilled, Seteal took Rarmin's carefully

prepared coffin to the workshop and

smashed it into little pieces with a hammer.

She then filled her bucket and resumed

scrubbing blood from the floorboards.

'Seteal,' a lively female voice called when

she went outside to empty the bucket.

Pretending that she hadn't heard, Seteal

hurried back to the door. 'Seteal,' the voice

persisted, now to be accompanied by the

sound of shoes tapping their way up the

stairs.

'What?' She turned to find two young

women of similar age to herself making their

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way across the balcony.

'You're back.' One of the girls giggled

excitedly, sending her brunette ringlets

bounced about her shoulders.

'I'm sorry.' Seteal put a hand to her

forehead. 'Do I know you?'

'Seteal . . . it's us,' a tall blonde girl said

with an expression of hurt.

'Oh, of course,' Seteal mumbled. 'I have

work to do, but thanks for stopping by.'

The first girl spoke again. 'You don't have

the faintest idea who we are, do you?'

A bitter cackle made its way out of

Seteal's chest as she stepped back inside. 'I

don't even know who I am anymore,' she

said and closed the door. Something about

the women had been familiar, but Seteal

couldn't think why. She refilled her bucket

and got back to scrubbing.

An hour or so later Seteal was still

scrubbing, despite the fact that her brush

had started falling apart. She looked up at

the clock and realised with a jolt that the

funeral was due to commence in less than

half an hour. That was why those women had

been all dressed up. She washed her hands

and hurried up stairs. She was about to pull

open her wardrobe, but her hand froze on

the handle.

The images carved into the surface of the

doors leapt out at her like they never had

before. Towering waves stood frozen in time

over people fearlessly standing beneath

them. On the other side, an image Seteal

had always perceived as a ripple in the

carved ocean now stood out quite clearly as

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Cael McIntosh

an Elglair dome. Gifn had created an image

of his memories of the Frozen Lands. The

wardrobe had been Jil-e-an's before it was

Seteal's. Gifn must have made it for her in

an attempt to make her feel more at home.

Seteal found herself having gained a new

appreciation for her mother's pain and sense

of isolation.

She pulled open the door and dug about

until she found the black dress she'd been

wearing the day before. She yanked on the

hanger, but it'd gotten caught and no matter

how she tried, she couldn't get it free.

Yelling furiously, Seteal pulled so violently

that the rod snapped and her clothing fell

out in a pile on top of her. She remained

buried in the dark beneath a sea of dresses.

She thought about getting up, but it was so

peaceful within her cocoon of clothing.

'Seteal,' one of the girls from earlier

called from the bedroom door.

'Go away.'

'Listen, I don't know what happened to

you out there,' she paused, 'or even what

you might've done, but we were once best

friends. So . . . so I'm going to help you get

dressed.'

Seteal's eyes burst open as memories

came flooding back. 'Cindi?' she enquired,

burrowing out of the pile.

'What're you doing under all of that

anyway?'

'They fell out,' Seteal told her childhood

friend, wiping at tears she hadn't realised

were there. 'I can't get them untangled.'

'Let me,' Cindi consoled, flicking back

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long blonde hair. A moment later she'd

expertly unwoven the tangled coat hangers

and pulled out a black dress. 'Come on, Set.

Let's get you ready.'

'We must be very late.' Seteal felt her

chin quivering.

'They can wait,' Cindi reassured her as

she slid out of her dress and into the black

one. 'Now let me do your makeup.'

'Must you?' Seteal frowned, having never

been terribly fond of the stuff.

'I must.' Cindi had adopted an

authoritative tone. She pulled out a small

case and brush. 'Now hold still,' she

murmured as she worked. 'So . . . I got

engaged while you were away.'

Seteal stared out the window and

watched the trees swaying gently in the

breeze. The sun was obscured by cloud and

it looked about to rain. A familiar

melancholy bird call outside told Seteal that

Seeol was somewhere nearby. It didn't

surprise her. Burden or friend, she'd never

be free of her little monster.

'Seteal,' Cindi reprimanded. 'You haven't

heard a single word I've been saying, have

you?'

'Oh,' Seteal jolted. 'I'm sorry. My mind

wandered.'

'I can tell,' Cindi muttered, putting away

the powder and then retrieving some

eyeliner. 'What about you? Where have you

really been? Did you find some secret

girlfriend or something?'

'Girlfriend?' Seteal's mind was filled with

images of Master Fasil's grizzled face

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Cael McIntosh

bouncing in and out of her vision as he

forced himself into her, his expression

feverish. She remembered the way the dirt

felt as it grazed her flesh during the friction

of the event. She remembered the feeling of

blood trickling over her thighs. She

remembered his fists pounding her face

until she could no longer see through one of

her eyes and her cheek had swollen up so

badly that she couldn't eat thereafter. 'No . .

. no girlfriend,' Seteal choked out.

'Set,' Cindi said softly. 'I know about you,

so . . . where did the baby come from?'

'Let's go,' Seteal sobbed, pushing Cindi's

hands out of her face, before turning to pick

up her cloak. 'I have to go.'

'I'm sorry,' Cindi said quickly. 'I didn't

mean to--'

'Let's just go!' Seteal wailed, pushing

passed her friend and barging out of the

room.

She hurried downstairs as though she

could escape the memories by doing so.

Seteal crossed the living room with Cindi at

her heels. She pushed through the front

door and stepped down onto the dirt road.

Like most places in Elmsville, the funeral

home was only several doors away. Seteal

went around the back of the building to find

people had already been seated before a

podium, the cemetery looming ominously

behind it. Father Garren strode over and

guided Seteal to a seat beside Cindi and

their friend. It was Anna, she remembered.

The eyes of the entire town bored into the

back of Seteal's head. She could feel the

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questions and the gossip. Father Garren

opened the service. He said a bunch of

things about Maker and how Gifn had now

joined him in the eternity of the Ways. There

he would have peace. The specifics were lost

on Seteal. She was distracted. Halfway

through the service, a small bird landed atop

the coffin and stared at Seteal knowingly.

Seeol had come to give his condolences in

his own peculiar way. He flicked his tail and

made a few decidedly morbid sounds before

fluttering back into the heights of a nearby

tree. It was a small gesture, but coming

from a night bird, it'd somehow meant a lot.

Before Seteal had even realised the

Father's absence, Mister Beura had taken

the stand to recite a host of happy memories

he'd shared with Gifn. He spoke about the

early days when Mister Eltari and his lovely

wife had first arrived in Elmsville. He spoke

about how long it'd taken for the young

couple to warm up to the rest of the village.

He spoke about how proud Gifn had been of

Seteal and what a great father he was, even

after Jil-e-an's passing.

Seteal stared in surprise when Cindi

stood up and spoke a few words. She was

sure her friend's speech would've been nice,

but Seteal was unable to focus on it. Her

thoughts drifted in and out like the tide . . .

until they didn't. Words fell slowly from

Cindi's lips, As they did thunder rumbled to

match Seteal's horror. She watched her

friend's mouth as she formed the sentence,

'And now Miss Eltari would like to come up

and say a few words.'

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'What?' Seteal hissed, causing Cindi to

hesitate halfway back to her seat. 'No,' she

whispered and covered her face as though

she could hide her entire self behind a single

hand.

The crowd of onlookers erupted into

hushed whispers of suspicion. 'I knew she

had something to do with it,' someone said

nearby. 'She's always been peculiar,' another

responded. 'Do you remember that time she

said Mister Eltari would break his leg, and

the very next day it happened.'

'Enough!' Seteal leapt out of her chair

and the crowd fell silent. She stepped

forward and felt the leaf-litter crunch

beneath her black shoe. She breathed. She

took another step. Seteal twisted her head

toward the looming trees above them and

found the elf owl's eyes boring into hers. He

bobbed his head rapidly in a show of

support.

Seteal found herself standing at the

podium. 'I loved my father,' she said after a

long shuddering breath. 'I know it must

seem strange that I've been away for so long

and believe me I wish I could take it all

back. I really do. But I loved my father.'

Seteal covered her mouth with a hand that

wouldn't stop shaking. 'He was the best

friend I ever had. He'd have done anything

for me.'

'And he did,' snapped Seteal's old piano

teacher as she rose furiously to her feet and

stabbed her crooked finger through the air.

'He travelled across the world looking for

you! He was convinced that you were dead,

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but now the truth comes out, doesn't it, Miss

Eltari. You came back here with a child born

out of wedlock, you little whore. She ran off

with some boy,' the old woman addressed

the people of Elmsville. 'You're all thinking

it. She ran off with a boy and came back

with her dead bastard when it all went

wrong!'

A sad smile slid across Seteal's features.

At first she was hurt by the woman's

comments, but all too soon she shook in fits

of laughter. She abandoned the podium and

strolled over to the old woman. 'Your

imagination is so limited,' she growled when

their faces were just handswidths apart. 'I

promise you that whatever you're capable of

imagining, I've done far worse than that.'

She let the statement hang in the air before

turning back to the crowd. 'Now, if you are

all finished gossiping might we get back to

my father's service?'

The remainder of the funeral passed

according to plan. Seteal's old piano teacher

stared at her with pursed lips for the

majority of the time, but she ignored the

silly woman and farewelled her father with

dignity. With what she'd put him through he

deserved that much. When the service was

over and the coffin had been lowered into a

grave beside Seteal's mother, she wandered

over to read the headstone for what felt like

the thousandth time.

Here lies Gifn Eltari

1767AW to 1820AW

A devoted father, loving husband and man

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of Maker.

Farewell Gifn.

Even through Seteal's glove, the

headstone was cold to touch. 'I love you,

Daddy,' she whispered.

As the people of Elmsville mingled, Seteal

made sure to hurry away before too many

could offer their condolences. She didn't feel

that she deserved them. The fruit tree

beside the overgrown path north of Narvon

Wood caught Seteal's eye and she made her

way toward it. She and her friends had often

played there as children.

'Seteal,' Cindi called, hurrying up beside

her. 'Where are you going?'

'I need to clear my head,' she grumbled.

'Okay.' Cindi smiled, continuing along

beside her.

'Alone.'

'Oh,' Cindi murmured and stopped

walking, only to grab Seteal's arm and pull

her to a stop. 'Who's that?'

'I have no idea.' She followed the girl's

gaze toward the kel'ad fruit tree. Through

the mist they were able to make out a dark

silhouette. 'Excuse me?' Seteal called as she

made long strides toward the stranger.

The dark figure flared his wings. Cindi's

face fell and she screamed loudly enough to

catch the attention of everyone at the

funeral. 'Run!'

And Seteal did run. She ran toward the

silt as he leapt into the air and swooped

toward her. She felt the Ways churning

around her legs and pouring through her

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muscles, her heart beating faster than a

human's should. Her blood screamed by her

ears as the silt came closer. Seteal slammed

her foot into the earth so hard that the

ground sank on impact. Her muscles

contracted in such a way that they propelled

her four strides into the air.

The silt banked sharply, but Seteal

grabbed his wing, spun him around and

slammed him onto the ground. His eyes

were wide with shock when she landed on

his chest and wrapped her hand around his

throat.

'What are you?' He gagged.

'This town, you cannot have,' Seteal

hissed. The silt struggled in vain against the

weight of the Ways. 'And here's a little

message you can take back to your Devil.'

Seteal pulled back her arm and clenched her

fist. She felt the power burn through her

bones until they were almost pushed to the

point of breaking. She thrust her fist

forward and beat the silt until he was

bloodied and bruised. 'Now run away,'

Seteal spat, climbing to her feet. The demon

limped several steps before beating his

wings and swooping woozily into the

distance.

When Seteal turned around she found the

entire town watching her with expressions

of fear. Cindi dropped the small bag she'd

been carrying and hurried back to the

perceived safety of the crowd. Seteal wiped

the back of her hand across her nose and

stared at them in disdain. 'What?' She threw

out her arms. 'What?' She challenged, but of

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course, no one said a word. 'To torrid with

the lot of you.'

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Cael McIntosh

Psalm 88

1. Oh Lord Maker of my salvation, I have

cried day and night before Thee.

2. Let my prayer come before Thee;

incline Thine ear unto my cry.

3. For my soul is full of troubles, and my

life draweth nigh unto the grave.

4-5. I am counted with them that go down

into the torrid pit; I am as a man that hath no

strength, cast among the dead like the slain

that lie in the grave, whom Thou

rememberest no more, and who are cut of

from Thy hand.

6. Thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in

darkness, in the deeps.

7. Thy wrath lieth hard upon me, and Thou

hast afflicted me with all Thy woes.

8-9. Thou hast put away mine

acquaintances far from me; Thou hast made

me an abomination unto them. I am shut up,

and I cannot come forth; mine eye mourneth

by reason of affliction. Lord, I have called

daily upon Thee; I have stretched out my

hands unto Thee.

10. Wilt Thou show wonders to the dead?

Shall the dead arise and praise Thee?

11. Shall Thy loving kindness be declared

in the grave? Or Thy faithfulness in

destruction?

12. Shall Thy wonders be known in the

dark? And Thy righteousness in the land of

forgetfulness?

13. But unto Thee have I cried, O Lord,

and in the morning shall my prayer come

before Thee.

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14. Lord, why castest Thou of my soul?

Why hidest Thou Thy face from me?

15. I am afflicted and ready to die from my

youth up; while I sufer Thy terrors I am

distraught.

16. Thy fierce wrath goeth over me; Thy

terrors have cut me of.

17. They came round about me daily like

water; they compassed me about together.

18. Lover and friend hast Thou put far

from me, and mine acquaintances into the

dark.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER NINE

### HE IS A TERRIBLE HUMAN

The tree--black from its roots up to its

leaves--stretched away from the earth and

emitted a foreboding energy. The tree was

cruel. Even from the edge of the clearing,

Seeol's head felt like it might pop. He

wondered how he could've ever tolerated

the place long enough to go from hatchling

to maturity. There was not a single other

animal or even insect in sight. Nobody

wanted to go anywhere near Seeol's birth

place.

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Ignoring the pain, he flew up and landed

on one of the branches. Beneath his talons,

the bark was as cold as ice and unaffected

by the wind. Seeol felt weak and sick, much

like he had after bleeding too much in

Beldin. Hurriedly abandoning his perch, he

flew back toward Elmsville. The pain

subsided and he was able to think clearly.

The moon was bright, but there wasn't

much in the way of food. Seeol had hoped to

find some in Narvon Wood, but the black

tree had done everything it could to scare

the insects away. He landed in the tree from

which he'd observed Gifn's service earlier

that day. Poor Seteal. She really had been

through too much for one lifetime. Seeol

hoped dearly that his friend would find some

peace now that she was home.

Skittish movement caught Seeol's

attention and he snapped his head around to

find a young man with curly blond hair

sneaking around the side of someone's

house. It was Jakob, that terrible man who'd

nearly gotten El-i-miir killed. 'Hey!' Seeol

called before landing on a branch that was

about level with the man's eyes.

Jakob looked about in every direction, his

expression one of confusion. 'Who's there?'

'It's me,' Seeol replied.

'What the torrid?' Jakob said, squinting

through the dark, reminding Seeol of just

how terribly inefficient human vision was.

'Oh . . . the talking bird. Seteal's pet.' He

shook his head and continued around the

building.'

'Is not a pet!' Seeol flew for his head,

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Cael McIntosh

landed among the ringlets and bit his ear

violently.

'Ouch!' Jakob battered Seeol away and

rubbed the side of his head.

'What is you doing in this Elmsvillage,'

Seeol demanded. 'You is a terrible human

and might hurt some good friends.'

'Shoo,' Jakob flicked his fingers out at

Seeol. 'Buzz off.'

'I am not delighted to wake up Seteal

because she is having sleepy times for the

first times in a long times.' Seeol stalled,

momentarily confused by the number of

times he'd used the same word, before

continuing once he was sure he'd made

sense. 'But I will tickle and scratch her

awake if you don't tell me what silly jobs

you're playing at.'

'Look.' Jakob raised his hands irritably. 'I

don't want any trouble, you annoying little

freak, I just need to know where Ilgrin is.

Don't tell him, though. We'll make a little

game out of it okay?'

'Why?'

'Because . . . I'm throwing him a surprise

party,' Jakob replied in frustration.

'That is uncharacterably nice,' Seeol

mused suspiciously, 'But Ilgy isn't hither. He

is thither.'

'What does that even mean!?' Jakob cried,

before quickly lowering his voice. 'Do you

ever make sense?'

'Sorry.' Seeol looked at his toes. 'That's

Holy Tome talk. He isn't here. I haven't

played with him since those scary actualities

in Belly-Beldin. I miss him because he is

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sometimes my friend but not always and he

was nice to me on the big riverboat when

Gilrei Far-a-mael wanted to squish me

before we went to the freezing cold lands

and I turned into a monster and didn't kill

El-i-miir.'

'Ah! You are hurting my brain. I don't

know what you're going on about,' Jakob

said after a moment of staring at Seeol in

stunned silence. 'Can you take me to

Seteal's place?'

'I will walk there. You can follow because

I don't want to sit on your shoulder or your

head because I don't like you and you can't

fly very fast or very far because you don't

have wings.' Seeol shrugged his own wings,

although he wasn't terribly sure if using the

gesture had been appropriate.

Seeol hopped toward Seteal's house with

Jakob in tow. He fluttered onto the balcony

and landed by the door, which swung open

before he could even tap against it.

'Jakob,' Seteal said as though she'd been

expecting him. 'Why have you come?'

'Noah has gone mad,' Jakob whispered. 'I

can't go home. He'll find me there and I've

got nowhere else to go. I was hoping I might

be able to stay here with you for a while. I'll

work around the house . . . anything . . . I

just can't go back there. He'll kill me.'

'Sure.' Seteal shrugged.

'What!' Seeol gasped.

'Really?' Jakob stepped back in surprise.

'That was easy.'

'He is a terrible human!' Seeol shrieked.

'Quiet down, you two,' Seteal grumbled,

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Cael McIntosh

'and come inside before you wake the

neighbours.'

Seeol waited until Seteal had closed the

door behind them and placed a lantern on

the kitchen table. 'Why?'

'Because,' Seteal's vision shifted from

Seeol to Jakob, 'I know you're probably up to

no good. I also know you're like a dog with a

bone and if you're planning something you'll

accomplish it whether you're living here or

not. Frankly, I'd rather you stick around so

that I will have a chance in figuring out what

you're up to. Then I can decide whether or

not to kill you,' she finished nonchalantly.

'And I should warn you, I could do it without

lifting a finger.'

'Sure,' Jakob said nervously.

'Can I have a talk to you?' Seeol narrowed

his eyes.

'What is it?'

'In privately.'

Seteal sighed irritably, but headed up

stairs anyway. Seeol followed. 'All right,

then,' Seteal said impatiently. 'What is it?'

'This is a terribly terrible idea,' he

replied. 'He could kill you in your slumber.'

'I'm not sleeping much these days,' Seteal

murmured and for the first time Seeol

noticed the tiredness in her face and the

vacant look in her eyes.

'He could poison a delicious meal that you

could eat.'

'I haven't been eating much lately.' Seteal

leaned against the wall and for the first time

Seeol noticed how much weight she'd lost.

'He could sneak up on you.' Seeol tried

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desperately.

'Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad

thing,' Seteal said dismissively.

'Don't say that!' Seeol shouted.

'Look.' Seteal rolled her eyes. 'This is my

house and I've made up my mind. Jakob is

staying.'

'You are playing a game with fire. He

betrayed you and Mish Mish,' Seeol

snapped, before flying back down stairs to

stare daggers at Jakob.

'Here,' Seteal said, stumbling down the

stairs with an armful of blankets that she

dumped in front of the fireplace. 'Make

yourself a bed.'

Jakob frowned. 'What about your father's

bed?'

'What about it?' Seteal replied with a

scathing tone.

Seeol made eye contact with the man and

very subtly shook his head in warning.

'Nothing.' Jakob bit his lip. 'The floor looks

very comfortable, thank you.'

'It does, doesn't it.' Seteal smiled with

mock-civility.

A rapid knocking at the door stole Seeol's

attention and he watched as Seteal moved to

the window and parted the curtain. A

genuine smile spread across her lips for the

first time in weeks, if not months, and she

pulled the door open.

'Ilgrin,' she said warmly, putting her arms

around the silt. 'You came.'

'It's good to see you.' He smiled back as

he and Teah entered.

'Who's she?'

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'She's okay,' Ilgrin reassured her. 'Teah's

a friend.'

'It's an honour to meet you,' the angel

replied, performing a very poorly practised

curtsy.

'Hello!' Seeol crowed and did a little

dance. In responce he received an

expression of recognition from Ilgrin.

Seteal peered passed the demon.

'Where's El-i-miir?'

Ilgrin's face fell. 'She's not here?'

'No,' Seteal said worriedly. 'She's always

with you.'

'She's always with you.' Ilgrin put a hand

over his mouth and his eyes filled with fear.

'Torrid,' he choked out. 'We've left her back

in Beldin. I told you we should've kept

looking,' he snapped at Teah. 'I've got to go

back.' He spun toward the door and yanked

it open.

'No.' Teah closed it. 'It's getting too light.

Look out the window.' Seeol flew up onto the

table and looked at the street to see a little

old lady already hobbling about her day.

Considering the speed at which she was

moving, he figured she probably needed the

additional time. 'El-i-miir will come,' Teah

said. 'We flew most of the way. She had to

walk.'

'I walked.' Seteal frowned. 'Granted I

found a carriage, but I've been back well

over a week. Now that I think about it, what

held you two up?'

'That'd better not be who I think it is,'

Ilgrin said through gritted teeth, his eyes

coming to rest on Jakob.

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'Hi, Ilgrin.' The Sa'Tanist waved, his face

still a little battered from Ilgrin's previous

beating.

Before anyone could react, Teah flashed

through the air and crashed down on Jakob's

chest. The two hit the ground and Jakob

gagged as Teah started strangling him. 'You

ruined everything,' she shrieked. 'We were

going to be free. With Ilgrin as the Devil, I

could've shown my face in public. I'll kill

you!'

'That's enough,' Seteal murmured, but

Teah either didn't hear her or didn't care. 'I

said enough,' Seteal snapped and the air

became hot as Teah was blasted backward.

The angel threw open her wings, smashing

into pots and ornaments to land with near-

perfect dignity. She glared at Seteal, but the

look was one of fear and respect.

Seeol cocked his head to examine Ilgrin's

stitches. 'What happened to your wing?'

'I was shot,' he replied distractedly.

'Humans were coming after us and I got

separated from El-i-miir. Seteal, I need to

know what in Maker's name he's doing

here.' He pointed at Jakob.

'Nothing,' the human replied anxiously. 'I

was just leaving,' he blurted out, hurrying

for the door and pulling it open. And there

stood Seteal's friend Cindi with her fist

elevated in preparation to knock. Her eyes

moved passed Jakob and landed on Ilgrin.

They moved slowly to Teah and then back

again. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell

open. For a moment she was too shocked

even to scream, but eventually the sound

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came out long and piercing.

'Cindi.' Seteal rushed over to the woman

and put a hand on each shoulder. 'Listen to

me.' It didn't work. The woman continued to

scream.

Seeol flew down to the floorboards and

looked up at her from his place at her feet.

'Shut up,' he barked and miraculously she

did, apparently so stunned by Seeol's ability

to talk that she herself had been left

speechless.

'Shut the damn door,' Seteal snapped at

Jakob, who promptly did as he was told.

'Now, Cindi.' Seteal stared into her

friend's eyes. 'You have to listen to me,

okay?' Cindi shook uncontrollably, her eyes

locked on Ilgrin.

'D-d-demon,' she stuttered. 'There are d-

demons in your house.'

'There are.' Seteal nodded. 'They're not

going to hurt you, Cindi. Cindi? Do you

understand what I'm telling you? You are not

in any danger.'

'There's more,' Cindi squeaked.

'What?' Seteal asked.

'I remembered what you d-d-did at the

funeral,' Cindi spluttered. 'Th-that's why I

came. Because of the other ones.' She

pointed toward the door.

Seteal and Ilgrin looked at each other

with matching expressions of concern.

'There are more silts outside?'

'Oh, my Maker,' Cindi cried hysterically

as the reality of her situation sank in. 'What

have you brought upon us? I believed in you.

The whole town was saying horrible things

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and I believed in you. You have demons in

your house,' she finished with an accusatory

tone.

'Well, technically . . .' Teah stepped

forward. 'I'm an angel.'

'Not helpful, Teah,' Seteal grumbled.

'Seeol, I need you to go and find out what's

happening.'

'I'd be delightful,' the bird replied

excitedly and then waited for Seteal to open

a window. 

## CHAPTER TEN

### JUST LIKE YOU

When El-i-miir woke up, she found herself

staring at the stars. Her wound was weeping

and hot to the touch. The rest of her body

shivered uncontrollably. Glancing at the

nearby demon corpse, El-i-miir caught

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herself considering whether she should slide

beneath one of his wings for warmth, but

the idea of doing so was too disgusting. She

rolled onto her knees with a guttural moan.

'Oh, good. You're awake,' a sinister voice

uttered from several strides away. El-i-miir

looked up to find herself being watched by a

demon.

'It's like they're everywhere,' She

muttered to herself, only to then gasp in

pain.

'Would you like to know why I haven't

killed you yet?'

'I'm guessing not because of your lovely

demeanour,' El-i-miir replied sarcastically.

'My name is Li'Mark,' the demon said

with narrowed eyes. 'And do you know who

he is?' He pointed at the corpse on the

ground. 'That was my brother, Li'Quin,' he

said with a sorrowful tone. 'That's why I

haven't killed you yet--because I wanted you

to know the name of the man you murdered

before I avenged him. That bullet was silver,

you stupid little cunt.'

'And now I know.' El-i-miir froze in place.

She gripped the grass and thrust a string of

affiliation toward her would be attacker, but

the strand was weak. It was so weak in fact,

that the demon scarcely hesitated.

'Now you know.' The silt curled up his

toes and kicked El-i-miir in the side. Blinding

pain filled her senses as she rolled along

ground. A hand snapped around her neck

and lifted her into the air. Mark's mean

black eyes bored into hers, but El-i-miir

hadn't escaped so many demons only to be

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killed by this one. Again she snatched up a

handful of the Ways and pushed it toward

the man's aura, but instead of burrowing

inside it simply slid off and vanished.

El-i-miir gagged when the demon thrust

her to the earth. She hit the ground with

such force that she rolled over several times

before coming to a stop. 'I can't--' El-i-miir

cut herself off when blood arrived in her

mouth.

'Does it hurt?' Mark snarled as he tore off

El-i-miir's bandage and shoved his finger

into the wound. He wriggled it about and El-

i-miir lost whatever control she'd had. She

squeezed her eyes shut and screamed

through the agony. Mark pulled back his fist

and punched El-i-miir so hard that she heard

ribs cracking in her chest. He rolled her

onto her face and brought his elbow done in

the middle of her back. El-i-miir realised she

could no longer feel the grass beneath her

legs.

'Tell me how much it hurts,' Mark

whispered in her ear. 'What does it feel like

when your spine is snapped?'

El-i-miir opened her mouth to release a

spray of blood. A blade touched her

forehead, but she could no longer scream as

the demon slide it horizontally and peeled

back her scalp. There was nothing she could

do other than breathe and her ability even

for that was becoming increasingly less.

Mark's hand landed softly, pinning El-i-miir's

head to the earth. Slowly he increased the

pressure . . . so slowly. Quite suddenly El-i-

miir's skull broke and his hand plunged into

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her brain.

Silence. And then. El-i-miir heard a

scream tear from her throat after her skull

had crunched back into place. She felt the

slightest sensation in her legs and her pulse

became stronger. She opened her eyes with

the dull hope in her heart that Ilgrin had

found her. Mark's evil face stared down at

her as he continued the resurrection.

'I've decided that that was way too much

fun,' he hissed, pulling back to let the whisp

escape into the air. 'Now let's do it again.'

He smashed his foot down into El-i-miir's

head, shattering her skull for the second

time that night. The last thought she had

before dying, was the horrified realisation

that this could go on forever.

El-i-miir opened her eyes.

*

Seeol returned shrieking hysterically

about having discovered silts beating up the

town mayor. Ilgrin watched in stunned

silence as Seteal strode across the room and

barged through the front door. He followed

cautiously as the woman made her way

between houses.

'Seteal,' Ilgrin gasped as she strode

brazenly into the town centre where three

silts were taking their time shaking up a

stubby little man with black hair.

'Hey,' Seteal snapped as the distance

shortened between her and the demons.

Ilgrin watched in stunned silence as the silts

turned their attention toward the frail

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woman. 'This is my town,' she said

threateningly. 'I thought I'd made that clear.'

Ilgrin came out of the shadows to stand

beside Seteal in a show of support. Not a

single other soul could be found outdoors.

Aside from the occasional movement of a

curtain, the town might easily have been

mistaken for abandoned. 'According to

Sa'Tan the Devil's decree,' the central

demon raised a piece of paper, 'this

township is to be declared silt property. If

you abide to the rules, you will be allowed to

continue living here in the New World order.

If you refuse, the town will be destined for

destruction. Not a soul will be left alive.'

Following the silt's speech came a silence

lasting so long that Ilgrin became

uncomfortable and turned to Seteal to

prompt a response. Her eyes were closed

and she swayed a little on her heels. The

wind moved her hair and she breathed in

shallow breaths. 'No,' Seteal whispered. Her

eyes popped open and she raised her hands.

As she raised them the three silts drifted

into the air with stationary wings.

The demons gasped and squirmed as they

were carried higher. 'What're you doing?'

the leader enquired furiously. The silts

drifted higher and higher, their eyes

widening in fear.

'Go back to your Devil,' Seteal

commanded them. 'Tell him what happened

here and tell him that the next time he sends

his minions, their fate will be far less

appealing.' With a flick of her wrists, Seteal

unfurled her fingers and the silts were

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blasted so far into the distance that they

could no longer be seen. Fearful eyes peered

through windows to crawl across Ilgrin's

flesh. They were probably wondering why he

alone remained.

'We should go back inside,' he urged

quietly.

Seteal said nothing, but turned and

headed for home. 'I've got to get rid of him

somehow.'

'Who?'

She nodded up at the window through

which Seeol observed their approach. 'Don't

you think you're overreacting a little?' Ilgrin

frowned.

'I don't believe so. Why did silts have to

come to this village first? They've scarcely

had time to take Gor let alone humble little

Elmsville.'

'You can't possibly think--'

'Of course it's him,' Seteal hissed.

'Seeol isn't that powerful,' Ilgrin replied

without conviction. 'He's only ever caused

silly little things to happen: wolves came

after us, El-i-miir got knocked out in

Setbrana. But what else has he really done?'

'Everything,' Seteal turned to him with

wide eyes. 'Why did you happen to snatch

me out of a crowd of thousands in Sitnic?

Why have I been in every damn city with

perfect timing for the silt invasion to catch

us up in the turmoil? Why did the earth split

in half precisely where I was hiding in the

borderlands? Why did my father kill himself

mere moments after Seeol and I had come to

town?' Tears rolled down Seteal's cheeks.

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'The whisp that got me when I was

pregnant. Oh . . . my baby boy.' She fell into

his arms and sobbed against Ilgrin's chest.

'Why did it do that to him?'

Ilgrin's heart turned to ice. 'Where

exactly is the boy?'

'I . . .' Seteal gasped. 'I . . .' She stumbled

back and stared at her hands as though she

didn't recognise them.

'What did you do?'

'I killed him,' Seteal said with a

shuddering breath. 'He's dead. I took his

little neck and I squeezed it. I squeezed and

I squeezed. He was a baby I never asked for.

I know that. I know he had a cruel

beginning. But, Maker, I miss him so much.'

Ilgrin realised that his mouth was

hanging open in disbelief. He couldn't

remember having ever been so disgusted. 'I

have to go.' He stumbled away from the

puffy dress and pile of tears that was Seteal.

'I need a friend,' she sobbed through

bleary eyes.

'I can't do this.' Ilgrin looked at her

sideways. He hardly recognised her. He'd

never really known Seteal before her rape,

but El-i-miir had told him about her smile.

Seteal used to smile and although she still

moved about like the rest of them, the

woman she'd once been was dead. 'El-i-miir

isn't here,' Ilgrin mumbled unapologetically.

'We searched for days, but she isn't here, so

I have to go back.' He said hurriedly. 'I have

to find her because I think that she might be

dead and if she is I'm going to have to do

something truly evil before it's too late. And

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then I'll be a monster, just like you.'

Matthew 12

31. Therefore I say unto you, all manner of

sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto

men, but the blasphemy against the Holy

Spirit shall not be forgiven unto men.

32. And whosoever speaketh a word

against the sons of men, it shall be forgiven

him; but whosoever speaketh against the

Holy Spirit, it shall not be forgiven him,

neither in this world, neither in the world to

come.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER ELEVEN

### THE TOME

'I am in such sorrow today.' Seeol

bounced onto Seteal's knee. 'Ilgrin has flown

away and El-i-miir could be alonely and you

have tears in your eyes already and now I

have to tell you some more of the very

saddest news.'

Seteal continued to stare at the wall for a

long time. 'What?'

'I am terribly angry at my secret because

I heard you talking to that silly preacher

who you killed when he was alive and in his

church. He told you about that stupid key

which looked like a big black pebble instead

of being a key like for a door and I keeped it

a secret that I lost it because I was scared

because that crazy Daddy Marcel said that if

I'd loosed it I'd have to lose it forever and

now we can't open that gateway to

Hae'Evun.'

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'That's nice, Seeol,' Seteal replied

absently, without really having paid

attention to anything the bird had said.

'You is ignored me.' Seeol pulled back his

head and looked at Seteal as though she'd

offended him. But that couldn't be right. He

was only an elf owl after all. 'Is okay.' Seeol

bobbed his head rapidly as he often did

when he was excited. 'It's not loosed if I

haven't lost it. I will flutter away back to the

Old Lands and get it.'

'Wait, you're doing what?' Seteal shook

her head, now determined to give the bird

her full attention.

'I know where that key ball for the

gateway is hidden,' Seeol rustled his wings.

'So is going to go get it and I promise to

coming back and we will save the world and

people will start to love me and they might

like to scratch my head for me and give me

green lizards. I will be gone for a longer

time because is a long way and I have tiny,

tiny wings.'

'Yes!' Seteal clapped her hands together.

'You should go. You should do so with

urgency.' She couldn't believe Seeol had

solved the problem of his dark presence for

himself. She doubted very much that the

bird actually knew anything of value about

the gates of Hae'Evun, but such a trip would

certainly keep him out of the way for a long

time.

'What is I am waiting for?' Seeol

twittered. 'I'm going.' He flew toward the

open window, but landed abruptly and

turned to stare at Seteal. A moment later he

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flew over to her shoulder and rubbed his

beak back and forth across her cheek. 'It'll

be okay. You'll be all right. Bye bye,' he

finished, abandoning Seteal for the window.

'Read that,' Teah snapped, slamming a

heavy book down on the table.

'No,' Seteal grumbled when she'd

recovered enough from her surprise, having

not seen the angel's approach.

'Why not?'

'I don't believe in it.'

'You will once you've read it,' Teah

insisted. 'What else have you got to do

anyway? Ilgrin told me you've been put

through torrid and now he's off looking for

that Elglair woman again. Your bird just flew

out the window and you're sitting on a chair

staring at the wall.'

'All right, fine,' Seteal slapped her hand

down on the cover of the Holy Tome. 'Just

leave me alone.'

'Start with the book of Revelation,' Teah

ordered. 'It's the last one and the most

relevant to our present situation.'

'You really do believe in this, don't you?'

'I can't help it.' Teah shrugged. 'There are

countless prophesies in there and nearly all

of them have come true over the last year or

so.'

'Well I'm not going to read it with you

staring at me,' Seteal said after an awkward

silence.

'I'll know if you sneak off.' Teah pursed

her lips, flicked her hair over her shoulder

and strode into the neighbouring room.

'Teah, wait,' Seteal pushed back her chair

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and hurried after the angel. 'I know I said

I'd read it but that was really just to get rid

of you. Ilgrin's right. I have gone through

torrid and reading a book that'll only curse

me for all of my sins is really the last thing I

want to do. I'm well aware of my sins, so

here.' She waved the book at the angel.

'Take it.'

'But the clouds,' Teah pleaded. 'They're

moving north.'

'Yes.' Seteal lowered her eyes. 'It started

months ago when the whisps latched onto

my aura. I knew it then, as I know it now. I

sort of . . . dragged them into motion when I

tried to escape.'

'But it's in the Tome.' Teah flushed blue

with frustration. 'And the Holy Spirit would

be seen descending in the clouds.' Teah

shook the thick black book. 'That happened

in Beldin. You must have seen the whisps.

They were circling you like a pack of hungry

wolves.'

'Wait,' Seteal cringed as she was struck

with a feeling of déjà vu. 'Not this again.

We've already been through this nonsense

with Seeol. Please tell me you're not saying

what I think you are.'

'Seteal.' Teah grabbed her shoulders. 'You

are the Holy Spirit. Your abilities far surpass

anything the Elglair can do. For Maker's

sake, you were floating through the sky.

Ilgrin told me you can project your spirit, so

why not call it a holy one?'

'Because there is nothing holy about me,'

Seteal said angrily. 'And before you get all

preachy, why don't you go and read

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Leviticus 18:22, because I'm well aware of

what it says there about people like me.'

Teah's face scrunched up in confusion.

'People like you?'

'I don't like men,' Seteal spat out. 'I like

girls.'

'Oh . . . um . . .' Teah was dumbstruck.

'Maybe it's just a phase.'

'A phase!?' Seteal shouted. 'Could you be

any more insulting? I know who I am, what I

stand for and which sex I'm attracted to. So

really, Teah, can you possibly conceive that

your Holy Maker's Spirit is--what is it that

Leviticus says, oh, yes--an abomination?'

'Maybe that was just the writer's opinion,

not Maker's,' Teah said desperately. 'Maker

has never been quoted saying that. It was

Pa-ul. Perhaps he got it wrong?'

'No,' Seteal said in disgust. 'Holy book.

Holy words. The Tome was supposedly

written by Maker through the Elglair

prophets. You don't get to pick and choose

which parts you want to believe in because

the other bits are less than palatable. It's all

or nothing.'

'Okay.' Teah nodded slowly, clearly lost for

words.

'I was planning that speech for the day I

told my father the truth.' Seteal felt her face

turning hot and the sting of tears in her

eyes. 'But now he's dead and I'll never get

to tell him. He believed in the Tome,' she

said with a shaky voice. 'He was a good

man, my father. He was someone Maker

would've loved. Not like me. He'd have been

so disappointed in me--to find out his only

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daughter is an abomination and a whore.'

'Oh, Seteal.' Teah took an awkward step

forward and then took one back as though

she wasn't quite sure how to console such a

recent acquaintance. 'I'm sure he'd have

loved you all the same,' the angel said,

putting a hand on her upper arm. 'I'm sorry

I've upset you.'

'You know what? It's not you.' Seteal

stepped away. 'I've been like this a lot

lately.' She chuckled and dabbed at her eyes

with a towel. 'It's nothing.' She sniffed

loudly and shook herself before heading to

the kitchen. Teah didn't follow.

*

Noah roared in his fury. The massive

mutant demon howled a second time and

smashed his fist clean through a tree. 'You

found him and then you lost him?'

'He went to a small town named

Elmsville,' Jakob said slowly in an attempt to

maintain his calm. 'I'm not sure why,' he

lied. There was no need to risk involving the

others. Maker only knew, Seteal had been

through enough. Jakob could be certain of

that much without any further evidence

other than the lifelessness in her eyes.

'Where is he now?'

'I don't know, Sa'Tan, my Devil,' Jakob

said in the vein hope that appealing to

Noah's ego might ease his temper.

'You're useless. What can you tell me

about this strange woman?'

'Excuse me?'

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'There have been some utterly absurd

stories coming back to me from that little

town.' Noah frowned. 'I cannot believe the

half of it, but anybody I send their either

fails to return or does so blathering

nonsense. Anyway . . .' He shrugged. 'I'm

not going to risk my own life. A Devil is far

too precious for that.'

Jakob bowed his head respectfully. 'Of

course.'

'I'm sending you back.' Noah smiled,

showing off his yellow fangs. 'You'll wait

until Ilgrin returns, and then you'll lure him

into the woods.'

'How could I possibly--?'

'That's not my problem,' Noah cut him off.

'I'll be waiting there in exactly one week.'

He thrust a map into Jakob's hands. 'Ilgrin

had better be there, too.'

Jakob looked at the map to find a blotch

marked out in the southernmost parts of

Narvon Wood. 'I'm sure he'll be utterly

delicious,' Jakob replied, nervously wiping

the sweat from his forehead.

'Oh, and, Jakob,' Noah rumbled, just after

having given him permission to leave.

'Yes, my Lord.' Jakob turned back.

'I'd advise you to take this timeline very

seriously. The town has been marked out for

total destruction on the same day that you

bring Ilgrin to me. Thanks to that strange

woman, I've decided to send a thousand silts

to take care of just one little town. They will

kill everyone.'

'How do you propose I get there so

quickly?'

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Noah sighed deeply. 'I'll send a demon

escort to drop you off in the woods.'

'I'm sure you'll enjoy an easy victory,'

Jakob placated the Devil, bowing again

before leaving.

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Leviticus 18

22 Thou shalt not have sexual relations

with man as with woman: it is an

abomination.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER TWELVE

### TOO DEAD

Ilgrin banked sharply to the left when he

noticed a group of silts flying toward him in

tight formation. One of them waved, but the

others ignored him as they passed by, having

failed to recognise him.

There was a small town not a mile south

of Beldin. Ilgrin hurried forward, realising

that he'd somehow missed it when he and

Teah had been looking for El-i-miir. The

place harboured the overwhelming scent of

decaying flesh. Ilgrin landed and covered his

nose, gazing about at the multitude of

corpses; food for vultures.

'El-i-miir!' Ilgrin shouted, but the only

answer he received was the echo of his own

voice.

He dove back into the air and spent some

time circling above. Then he saw it. In the

field several hundred strides away, a cloud

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of vultures had descended around a

mangled corpse with silky black hair. 'Oh

no.' His voice hollow. He propelled himself

toward the body at a feverish pace. 'Don't

let it be you.' Ilgrin hit the ground running

and then fell to his knees in front of the

body. The birds erupted into the air, buzzing

about in frustration.

Without delaying another second Ilgrin

grabbed the woman's slender shoulder and

in doing so accidentally pulled off a lump of

flesh. He gagged and put it aside, corrected

his grip and rolled El-i-miir onto her back.

'No no no,' he moaned.

There were cuts on El-i-miir's face.

Chunks of her scalp had been torn away and

lumps of her hair were tangled in the grass.

One of her eyes was missing. Her cheek

bone had been collapsed through blunt force

trauma. A bullet wound, though at some

point patchily stitched together, was now

torn open and riddled with maggots. El-i-

miir's spine was severed below her chest

and her stomach had been cut open in such

a way that left her lower body connected by

nothing more than untorn bits of her

innards.

Ilgrin lifted his hands. They shook

uncontrollably. He keeled over and vomited

in the grass. Frantically, he gathered up

whatever parts of El-i-miir he could find,

knowing that the more of her he could

gather, the greater the chances of her

survival. 'Oh, Maker, don't be too dead.

Anything but that.' Ilgrin pressed portions of

El-i-miir's scalp back against her exposed

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skull. 'Give me that.' Ilgrin snatched one of

El-i-miir's fingers out of a nearby beak. The

bird responded unfavourably, but Ilgrin

slapped it out of the way and shoved the

finger into the palm of El-i-miir's hand.

Ilgrin scanned his surroundings for the

missing eye, but found nothing.

It occurred to him that he was extending

his search out of fear. He didn't want to try

to resurrect El-i-miir because he already

knew it wouldn't work. He felt his eyes

filling with tears and his lower lip shaking. 'I

refuse to let you go.' He pressed his hands

against El-i-miir's body and focused on

finding her soul before it could dissolve too

much too bring back.

Ilgrin's hands tingled, but the body failed

to respond. 'Come on, damn you!' He gritted

his teeth, growling as he purged more of his

own life-force into the corpse. Through hot

tears he saw the skin surrounding his hands

beginning to ripple, but it stopped abruptly.

Ilgrin's hands were burning so hot that he

had to remove them. He looked at his palms

to discover dark blue blisters forming.

One of the vultures hopped over and

ripped off a small strip of El-i-miir's leg

before rushing away when Ilgrin leapt after

it. 'She's not dead yet! Leave her alone,' he

cried, shooing the persistent animals away.

Ilgrin moaned and rocked back on his toes.

'You'll come back. You don't get to do this to

me. I'll make you come back because this

isn't the way it was supposed to happen. You

hear me? I had to die for you. It was

supposed to be me.'

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Ilgrin slapped his hands down onto El-i-

miir's body and focused so hard that the

temperature in his hands became that of a

white hot iron. He screamed as the heat

crawled up to his wrists and slithered into

his arms. 'Come on!' In response to his

efforts, El-i-miir's flesh rippled lazily, but it

still refused to come back together. 'Come

on!' An artery slithered through the hole in

El-i-miir's stomach and reattached when it

reached the other side.

El-i-miir's cheek bone made a crunching

sound but it failed to resurface. 'No!' Ilgrin

wailed when the body became still again and

he was forced to tear away his hands. Blue

blood splattered against El-i-miir's face.

Ilgrin examined his palms to find them

steaming, his blood having literally come to

boil. 'It was supposed to be me,' he said

breathlessly.

'El-i-miir?'

He touched her face and was surprised to

see that her eye had grown back beneath his

blood. He rocked back in disbelief, again

examining his hands. 'It's in our blood.'

Fighting through the pain, Ilgrin replaced

his hands and slid them back and forth over

El-i-miir's body. He would drench her in the

hot blue liquid. If he had to, he'd go until not

a drop was left within him. He smeared her

face and her skin. He splattered it over the

gaping wound in El-i-miir's stomach and

rubbed it into her mouth.

Spots danced across Ilgrin's vision and he

became lightheaded. He fell onto his side,

his wings hanging open. 'Heal,' he begged,

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remembering always to keep his hands in

contact with El-i-miir's body.

Patches of hair vibrated as lumps of flesh

oozed back into their appropriate places.

Ilgrin's heart thundered as the agony in his

hands heightened beyond anything he'd ever

had to endure. The cuts on El-i-miir's face

slithered together and her cheek bone came

up with a pop. Ilgrin thumped his head

against the earth repeatedly in an attempt to

distract himself from burning agony. El-i-

miir's intestines slithered about,

rearranging themselves before being sucked

back into place. Ilgrin gasped, his teeth

puncturing his lower lip. He hadn't realised

he'd been biting it.

A wave of flesh unfurled across El-i-miir's

belly. Ilgrin tore away one of his arms and

punched the ground hating himself for his

weakness. Blood vessels slithered out of El-i-

miir's hand, burrowed into her detached

finger and sucked it back into place. Ilgrin

howled. El-i-miir's spine cracked loudly as it

straightened out and fresh bone fused. Her

eyes opened, she inhaled deeply and then

she screamed.

'Get away from me!' Her eyes were full of

terror. 'Get away!' she cried, slapping at

Ilgrin repeatedly. He laid there holding up

his hands protectively as the pain dulled to a

deep throb. El-i-miir rolled onto her feet and

started to run, but came to an abrupt stop

and turned around. After a moment of

hesitation she hurried back, but the moment

had lingered too long, revealing a lack of

trust.

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'I thought you were too dead,' Ilgrin

blubbered as El-i-miir toppled to the ground

holding her stomach, which was

undoubtedly beginning to cramp. 'Call me

evil like the others, but I'll never let you go.'

El-i-miir squirmed on the ground and

gasped. 'I think it got stuck.'

'Can they do that?' Ilgrin asked, his eyes

wide.

'How should I know?' El-i-miir tried to

stand, only to collapse again.

On all fours she gagged and coughed and

choked. Her face was red. She put a hand

around her throat like she couldn't breathe.

'Get it up,' Ilgrin patted her on the back.

'Don't die on me again.'

El-i-miir fell, slapping at her throat in

panic, but her face faded to grey and at last

the black vapour squeezed its way through

her pores. With a loud cough, El-i-miir

started vomiting up waves of whisp. So long

did the substance flow that El-i-miir had to

pause several times for breath. It was no

real surprised that the whisp took several

long minutes in its departure. Ilgrin had

expected it to be large considering the

enormity of the resurrection. El-i-miir

moaned, a puff of whisp coming out of her

nostrils. 'I think it's done.' She sighed before

coughing several more times to discover

little bits of darkness still leaking out.

'It'll be gone soon,' Ilgrin assured her.

'From what I've heard, whisps never return

to their cocoons.'

'Okay.'

'So you're not going to curse me and

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chase me out of your life this time?'

'At this point, what's the difference?' El-i-

miir peered up at the whisp wafting through

the bright blue sky on its way to join the

greater cloud moving sluggishly on the

horizon.

'What happened?' Ilgrin's face crumpled.

'We searched for days.'

'I got shot,' El-i-miir replied. 'Some

people were kind enough to take me in, but

then the war arrived. I tried to get out, but

there were too many. One caught up with

me.' El-i-miir shuddered. 'He kept bringing

me back to life so that he could kill me over

and over again.'

Ilgrin's mouth fell open at the idea of

actions so vulgar. 'Why didn't you affiliate

him?'

'He never healed me quite enough that I

was able to regain control.'

'Well, you're safe now. Come on,' Ilgrin

took a step forward to take her hand, but El-

i-miir flinched at his approach. 'You do know

that you're safe with me, right?'

'Yes,' El-i-miir said softly. 'Of course I

know that..' She added forcefully.

'If you need some time, you should take

it,' Ilgrin encouraged. 'You've been through

a lot.'

'Could you just take me . . . home?' El-i-

miir looked at her feet. 'Wherever that is.'

'Elmsville,' Ilgrin replied. 'Seteal's there,

too. Come on.' He offered his hand, but El-i-

miir looked at it as though he were

brandishing a weapon. 'I remind you of him,

don't I?'

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'A little bit.' El-i-miir finally allowed Ilgrin

to put his arms around her. 'I know you're

nothing like him. I know it. I trust you. I

do . . . so please, just take me home.'

*

Far-a-mael quivered with pleasure. 'Come

to me.' The cloud of moths returned through

the window. They burrowed into his flesh

and made their way down his throat and into

his lungs, finally allowing him to breathe

properly again. His cloak became heavier

and more complete. His heart beat more

soundly and his eyes regained their depth of

colour.

Next the memories came. Thousands of

tiny compound eyes had explored thousands

of parts of the world. They'd been to every

city and village. They'd seen the

approaching whisp cloud. They'd discovered

that the silts had established a footing

worthy of notice in Beldin. Far-a-mael jolted

in surprise. He remembered when the first

demons had landed in Gor. He'd seen rivers

of human blood in the streets and the

screaming faces on small children. They, too,

would either meet with death or be forced

into slavery. Of course, it wasn't the murder

of so many innocent lives that gave Far-a-

mael reason to pause. Rather, it was the fact

that the silt invasion had already come so

far north.

The moths burrowed through Far-a-mael's

skull where they shuffled into position and

morphed into pieces of his brain. The new

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memories continued his enlightenment.

Most of the information was useless and he

discarded it immediately, but every now and

then he'd arrive at something terribly

exciting.

There was a dirt road on which a young

woman stood. Her tear-filled hazel eyes

flashed for a moment as the moth bounced

and fluttered away on the cold wind. The

eyes were unmistakable, as was the town to

which the moth had been. 'You've gone

home,' Far-a-mael murmured, having

recognised his granddaughter. 'You

should've run a lot further than that, my

dear.'

Far-a-mael stepped back from the balcony

and closed the ice doors as the final moth

fluttered into his robes. He turned around, a

smile touching his lips as he headed out of

the room. He made his way along the

corridors and down countless stairs until he

arrived at Gez-reil's door. There he waited,

as it was customary to do among

respectable gils.

Gez-reil stepped outside and nodded. 'I

thought I felt your presence.'

'Shut the door,' Far-a-mael ordered,

concerned that Gez-reil's wife would listen

in. Once he would've simply known, but Far-

a-mael's abilities with the Ways had become

as fluttery and jittery as the moths with

which he was now composed.

The High Elder did as he was told.

'Whatever is the matter?'

'I've found Seteal,' Far-a-mael replied

quietly. 'She's gone home.'

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'Not this again.' Gez-reil winced. 'We've

tortured the poor girl enough. Can't we just

leave her be?'

'She killed me,' Far-a-mael complained

after glancing over his shoulder.

'But you're alive now,' Gez-reil reminded

him.

'She still did it.'

'I thought you'd be proud of her for that,'

Gez-reil said, his face showing confusion.

'I was,' Far-a-mael muttered. 'I am, but I'd

anchored her and when I died, well . . .'

'The anchor disappeared,' Gez-reil

finished for him.

'Precisely,' Far-a-mael stressed. 'And if

she was able to kill me before, I'm afraid

that she may very well wish to do so again.'

'So what do you propose?'

'Forced anchorage,' Far-a-mael replied.

'That's

illegal,'

Gez-reil

said

flabbergasted. 'You can't do that.'

'I can't,' Far-a-mael replied. 'Not alone

anyway.'

'No way.' Gez-reil put up his hands up in

rejection of the idea.

'She's a danger to all of us,' he insisted.

'I will not be involved in such a thing. It

goes against everything our people stand

for.'

'I'm afraid I'm not really giving you a

choice,' Far-a-mael lowered his voice

threateningly. 'Need I remind of what I'm

now capable of doing?' Perhaps I should

demonstrate on Hes-la-tie, your beautiful

wife.'

'You've been our friend for years, Far-a-

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mael,' Gez-reil said with hurt in his eyes. 'I

don't believe you'd do such a thing.'

'I wouldn't risk testing such a theory,' Far-

a-mael warned. 'Gather the twelve most

powerful gils in the cleff. Including yourself,

that'll make up the thirteen required.'

'You're asking us to anchor the poor girl

without getting your own hands dirty?'

'I'll be there,' Far-a-mael said darkly. 'I'll

just be occupied with matters more

important.'

## CHAPTER THIRTEEN

### ABOMINATION

With Teah wandering about like a lost sheep,

Seteal had made the decision to go out for a

break. She crossed the backyard haunted by

the place where she'd buried Parrowun. The

rusty key got stuck when Seteal slid it into

the lock of the rickety workshop door. No

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matter how she struggled she couldn't get it

in.

'That's what I get for locking doors in a

crime-free town.' Seteal laughed at her own

foolishness.

The brown lock had a few rust-free specks

that glittered in the son. Seteal stared at it

for a long time, before she heard a loud

clacking sound that demanded further

inspection. She grasped the handle and

pulled, realising that perhaps she hadn't

locked it after all.

The workshop was filled with half-finished

projects and odd lengths of wood. That

delightful scent of sawdust still permeated

the shop. It was the very same scent that'd

followed Gifn into the house of an evening.

He'd never been one to shout or drink

obsessively when he was under pressure.

Instead, he'd bury himself in his work. With

the amount of cobwebs in the workshop,

Seteal was forced to the conclusion that in

the case of her disappearance, Gifn had

handled life quite differently. He hadn't

handled it at all.

Seteal exhaled slowly--an attempt to

control her emotions. She needed to be hard

in order to keep herself together. She

gathered a few large pieces of timber and

settled them atop the work bench.

'Seteal.' Cindi appeared in the doorway.

She looked terribly nervous, her face as

white as a sheet.

'What's the matter?'

'You have to come quickly,' she said

breathily, turning to run.

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Seteal pursued her old friend until she

came out onto the town square where a

crowd of familiar faces stood waiting. 'What

is it? What's happening?'

'We want for you to leave.' The squat

mayor of Elmsville stepped out of the crowd.

'You can take your demons with you.'

'You've tricked me,' Seteal accused Cindi.

'You couldn't have warned me?'

'Sorry.' The girl wrung her hands

fearfully. 'You're just not the same.'

'You all agreed to this?' Seteal waved her

hands at the crowd, her feelings surprisingly

hurt. She stared at Dimain the butcher,

Cindi's father. She turned to her old piano

teacher, but, of course, she'd made her

feelings quite clear at the funeral. 'Mistress

Green?' Seteal said when she found the

baker's wife. 'Tessa?' She implored of her

childhood crush. 'Not one of you will stand

with me?'

'The people have made their feelings

clear,' the mayor said sternly. 'And thank

Maker your father didn't live to know his

only daughter as a demon worshipper.'

'I've been protecting you.' Seteal recoiled

in defence. 'You'd all be dead if it weren't for

me.'

'I'll stand with you,' Teah declared loudly,

landing with grace. The crowd stepped back,

some even turning to run. Others became

faint and collapsed.

'You were right, Cindi, I have changed,'

Seteal said bitterly. 'I wish I hadn't, but I

have,' she appealed to the greater crowd. As

her emotions and sense of betrayal became

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Cael McIntosh

increasingly tumultuous, the town's general

clutter left the ground and rose up.

A bicycle with both wheels spinning

hovered above Mistress Marn's front lawn.

Mister Button's leaf litter and clippers

drifted over his roof. Mister Dinn's entire

outhouse floated into the sky. The canvas of

the Ways slithered around Seteal and held

her tight as odd bits and pieces continued to

defy gravity. The townsfolk became pale

with fear. 'None of you tried to find me.

Nobody cared! Where were you then, when

he was hurting me?'

'Seteal,' Teah whispered in a cautionary

tone.

'You left me alone,' Seteal wailed, her feet

leaving the dirt. She drifted several strides

into the air, her hair floating about her head

as dark clouds rolled in. 'And now you want

to make me leave?'

'That's enough,' Teah pleaded fearfully as

people started crying out as they too

ascended against their will.

'They hate me,' Seteal shouted. 'Because

I'm a whore.'

Teah beat her wings, flew up, and slapped

Seteal across the face. Along with their

clutter, the townsfolk hit the earth, got up,

and quickly dispersed. 'Can we talk about

this?' Teah called up after having landed

once more.

Seteal turned her head to look at her and

said nothing for several seconds, her

expression becoming one of anger. 'I don't

want to talk,' she hissed. She turned toward

the house and in a flash of movement

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reached the steps. The door swung open

with a bang as she made her way up to the

landing. After she'd entered, it slammed

shut. Every cupboard opened, their contents

spewing out to float around the house. One

of the bottles came to rest beside a glass.

The cap burst off and as Seteal tilted her

head, the bottle tilted, too.

She took the glass from the air and

emptied the red wine down her throat with a

few gulps. 'More.' She waved the bottle over

to drink straight from the source. Seteal

danced, remembering a tune she'd heard

and loved on the riverboat. As she danced

the melody drifted out of her head and into

reality. She laughed giddily as the sounds of

wind instruments filled her house despite

the fact that they didn't exist.

'Teah,' Seteal giggled when the angel

wandered in with an expression of

bewilderment.

'How is this possible?' She raised her

voice over the music.

'I am truly capable of anything,' Seteal

sung, passing the bottle to Teah, who

shrugged and took a sip.

'Look.' Seteal burst out laughing afresh.

'It's a party!'

People folded into reality all around the

house to dance and sing joyously. Each of

them had a drink in their hand and wild eyes

on their faces. Seteal snatched back the

bottle and took another mouthful.

'Seteal.' She dropped it at the sound of

Gifn's voice.

The music stopped and the party

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Cael McIntosh

vanished. 'Father.'

'Isn't it wonderful?' He burst into tears

and embraced her.

'I've missed you,' she sobbed into his

shoulder.

'I've missed you, too,' Gifn replied, gently

brushing her cheek. 'Thank Maker that

pistol misfired.'

'Wait.' Seteal pulled away. 'What?'

'The pistol didn't fire.' Gifn smiled

reassuringly.

'Yes, it did.' She stepped back,

overwhelmed with understanding. 'I wish

it'd failed. You're just saying what I wish

was true. You're not real.'

'What is going on?' Teah murmured.

'I'm only doing what I've always done.'

Seteal turned to face her. 'The only

difference is that I'm projecting my

memories instead of myself.'

'Yes, you are,' Master Fasil whispered in

her ear before grasping Seteal's hair and

throwing her to the ground.

'Oh, my Maker,' Teah shrieked in alarm,

leaping at Master Fasil only to be repelled

as though she'd hit a wall. 'Seteal, snap out

of this. Think of something else!'

'You like that,' Fasil grunted, flipping

Seteal onto her face and punching her in the

kidney.

'You're fake,' Seteal wailed. She grasped

for the Ways, but they were useless against

something her own subconscious mind had

summoned. Master Fasil tore off her

underwear and pulled out his penis. 'You

little whore.'

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'Leave her alone,' Teah screamed,

shattering a bottle over Master Fasil's head.

He didn't even notice.

Burning with hatred, Seteal found a shard

of glass and thrust it into Fasil's neck. She

ground it into his flesh until his eyes became

lifeless. His body hit the floor with a thud

and Seteal turned away to fix up her

clothing. When she turned back she did so

to find a purple mixture: the blood of

humans and silts. Parrowun was lying in the

puddle. His eyes were shut and his neck

bore the fresh bruising of strangulation.

'My baby,' Seteal sobbed, picking up the

limp body and holding him tight in her arms.

'Oh, Seteal,' Teah whispered through

hands covering her nose and mouth below

eyes filled with tears. 'I had no idea. Ilgrin

told me a bit, but this . . . I'm so sorry.' With

a moment's passing, Parrowun disappeared

back into the past, leaving Seteal to rock

back and forth on the floorboards.

She grunted, got to her feet and looked

around the room with a vacant expression.

The array of items that'd previously been

floating were now spread out all over the

place, many of them broken. Seteal

haphazardly kicked a can of beans and made

her way up to the bedroom. She pulled back

the covers and slithered into bed. The light

was irritating and so night fell in Elmsville

less than halfway through the day.

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Deuteronomy 22

28-29. If a man find a damsel who is a

virgin who is not betrothed, and lay hold of

her and lie with her, and they be found, then

the man that lay with her shall give unto the

damsel's father fifty coins of silver and she

shall be his wife; because he hath humbled

her.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER FOURTEEN

### SCRIPTURES OF THE HOLY

TOME

Ilgrin held El-i-miir close as he flew. They'd

stopped at a stream earlier for her to wash

the blood from her clothes and she'd been

shivering ever since. A glance to the south

caused Ilgrin to shiver for an entirely

different reason.

The whisp cloud--previously of Old World--

filled the entire horizon, its dark shadow

resting halfway up the length of Narvon

Wood. 'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir called over the wind.

'What's that?' He followed El-i-miir's

extended finger to discover a blotch of

darkness, disturbingly reminiscent of a

whisp, hovering where Elmsville was

supposed to be. 'What did you do?'

'It wasn't me,' Ilgrin said defensively,

relaxing his wings in preparation to land.

When their feet touched the earth near

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the signpost with Elmsville carved into it, it

soon became apparent that it wasn't a whisp

they were staring at. Ilgrin hesitated at the

edge of what could only be described as a

wall of darkness. 'It's just . . .'

'Night time,' El-i-miir finished for him.

She took a step forward and was

immediately engulfed to the point that Ilgrin

could not easily see her. 'You're not going to

believe this,' she called over her shoulder,

prompting Ilgrin to follow.

After having passed over the threshold,

he waited a moment to allow his eyes to

adjust. 'I guess Seteal got tired,' Ilgrin

stated. He went to take El-i-miir's hand but

she snatched it away. They continued down

the road in silence.

People were doing the best they could to

go about their daily duties, but all too

frequently they would stop and marvel at the

strange dome of weak, twinkling light above

their heads. Ilgrin put a finger to his lips,

indicating for El-i-miir to stay quiet as they

dodged between buildings and snuck up to

Seteal's house.

'Come on,' he hissed upon the realisation

that El-i-miir had frozen in her tracks.

'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'It's just that

that house brings up a lot of bad memories

for me. What Far-a-mael and I did . . . what I

did to her was horrible.'

'You were a rei,' Ilgrin stressed. 'You

didn't know any better. You trusted your

gil'rei and I'm certain Seteal has forgiven

you, so please, let's get inside before we get

shot.'

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Ilgrin tapped on the door softly and

waited until Teah had opened it. She

ushered them inside before giving Ilgrin a

hug and El-i-miir a nod of acknowledgement.

'Where's Seteal?' El-i-miir said.

'She's upstairs,' Teah replied. 'I think

she's sleeping, but I couldn't be sure. You

made it out alive.'

'Not exactly.'

The angel raised her eyebrows at Ilgrin. 'I

see.'

El-i-miir glanced at the grandfather clock

sitting in the corner. 'Why is it so dark at

two o'clock?'

Teah nodded toward the ceiling. 'She

would be my first guess. You've both missed

a lot. The town turned on her and tried to

make her leave. She started floating again

and took with her anything that wasn't

nailed down.'

'She's getting stronger,' El-i-miir said. 'I

don't know how to make sense of it.' Teah

and Ilgrin cast each other weary glances.

'What is it?'

'I think--' Teah started, only to be cut off

by El-i-miir, whose eyes followed something

invisible around the room.

'The Holy Tome?' she said sarcastically.

'You think Seteal is the Holy Spirit. Oh,

Ilgrin, you must be joking; after all we went

through with Seeol.' Silence. 'You're not

joking, are you?'

'No.' Ilgrin turned blue with

embarrassment. 'I think there may be

something to what Teah has been saying.'

'What is this?' El-i-miir looked at the silts

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as though they'd lost their minds. 'Sensible

people don't believe in such rubbish.'

'Hey,' Teah snapped. 'You could be a little

more sensitive to people's beliefs.'

'Your beliefs are stupid,' El-i-miir said in

exasperation. 'We need to find a real-world

solution for our problems. I feel like I'm

fighting with my parents all over again.'

'Your parents are believers?' The surprise

was evident in Teah's voice. 'How could you

be so dim-witted as to turn away from what

you must know in your heart to be true?'

'My parents had a lot of silly beliefs,

Teah,' El-i-miir replied curtly. 'I'm sure you

can use your imagination to figure out how

they felt about your kind. Were they right

about that as well?'

'Of course not, but you could still show

a--'

'Shut up,' El-i-miir said, lifting a finger.

'Don't tell me to shut up.' Teah spat

threateningly.

'Please,' El-i-miir's voice shook, 'just be

quiet.'

'Do as she says,' Ilgrin urged the angel

upon recognising the look on El-i-miir's face.

She spun in a slow circle her head

snapping this way and that. 'Why'd you

distract me? Now there's no--'

The sound of glass shattering against the

house was the only further warning that

something was amiss. The temperature

increased, flames licked at the windows and

thick black smoke filled the air.

'Death to the demons!' someone shouted

outside. A bottle smashed through the

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Cael McIntosh

window, hit the floor and shattered.

Accelerant splashed across the timber

followed by burning hot flames. Ilgrin

dashed for the exit.

'Don't open that,' El-i-miir barked. A

bottle hit the front door and Ilgrin leapt

aside as it became alight. 'What about

Seteal?'

'What about me?' Seteal asked heading

down the stairs clothed in a flowing white

nightdress.

The house was filled with a cold wind so

intense that the fire vanished as suddenly as

it'd started. Seteal went to the front door,

which blew open before she could reach it.

'I'm going to ask you all nicely to return to

your homes and get away from mine.' El-i-

miir yelped at the sound of a gunshot. Seteal

spoke again. 'I've asked you very pleasantly

to leave.'

The air was filled with disbelieving gasps

as the crowd dispersed. Seteal stepped back

inside and kicked the door shut. She was

bouncing a metal sphere in her hand. 'Is

that a bullet?' El-i-miir enquired.

'Yes, it is. I caught it.'

'You caught it,' Ilgrin echoed.

'I'm so relieved to see you're all right.'

Seteal smiled at El-i-miir and hurried over to

sit beside her. She dropped the lead ball and

allowed it to roll away.

'Yes, I'm quite all right.' El-i-miir looked

as stunned as Ilgrin felt. 'I'm sorry about

your house.'

'What, this?' Seteal turned to the black

scorches marking the walls. 'I think it gives

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the place character, don't you? What time is

it anyway?' She glanced at the clock. 'It's

not even half past two. We should have

lunch.'

Ilgrin looked out the window to see the

darkness dissolve, allowing the sun to again

reach the street. 'I'm really not hungry.'

'Oh, come on,' Seteal insisted. 'It might

be nice to do something normal. I'd love to

hear all about your adventures, El-i-miir, and

you pair as well.'

El-i-miir winced. 'I really don't want to

talk about it.'

'Me neither,' Ilgrin concurred.

'Oh, I do,' Teah said a little too quietly for

the others to hear as she brushed her

fingers along the back of Ilgrin's wounded

hand.

'Well, I don't.'

'Yes.' Seteal nodded. 'We heard you the

first time, Ilgrin.'

'What about you, Seteal?' El-i-miir cocked

her head. 'What have you been up to?'

'I'm not sure what you mean,' she replied

as she laid out four plates, glasses and sets

of cutlery at the table.

'Where are Mister Eltari and Parrowun?'

Seteal dropped a plate and it shattered at

her feet. 'Let me get that.' Teah rushed

forward in search of a brush.

'No,' Seteal barked. 'You all need to stop

treating me like a cripple. It's my mess. I'll

clean it up.'

El-i-miir opened her mouth to push for an

answer, but Ilgrin volunteered the

information without prompting. 'I'm not sure

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about Mister Eltari, but I know she killed the

baby.

'Oh.' Seteal lowered her face to the floor,

her hair falling so that it was obscured from

view.

'Ilgrin,' Teah reprimanded. 'Why would

you say that?'

'There's no excuse for what she did and I

won't pretend that there is,' he replied. 'You

know my parents were human. Anybody else

would've killed an infant silt, but they found

it in their hearts to take me in. So this

matters to me. It's not okay to kill your child

just because you don't want them.'

'I did want him, you idiot!' Seteal's face

was a handswidth from Ilgrin's in less than a

second. 'I loved him so much. I did it for

you, and you.' She turned to El-i-miir. 'I did

what I had to do to save countless thousands

of lives. So you can all just go to torrid!'

'I saw it.' Teah's spoke quietly. 'The infant

was what caused us to fall from the sky in

Beldin.'

'The bleeding sickness.' El-i-miir turned

to Ilgrin disparagingly. 'Parrowun was a

seeol of the most dangerous kind. He'd have

killed every one of us.'

'Seteal?' Ilgrin said after a long period of

silence. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have

assumed.'

'No, you shouldn't have,' Seteal snapped.

'What is that about, anyway? Do tell me,

what could possibly make you assume that

I'd do something so horrible for the fun of

it? Do you really think so little of me? I loved

him so much that I'm still not sure whether I

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did the right thing. I fight this battle in my

heart every day.'

'It's just that I've seen you sever people

from the Ways before and--'

'They were people who were trying to kill

us!' Seteal shouted. 'That's not even nearly

the same thing.'

'I know.' Ilgrin stared at the table. 'And

like I said, I'm really, truly sorry.'

Seteal dabbed at eyes if only to dry them

and roll them. 'At least I know what you

really think of me.'

'It's not like that.'

'You know, I'd actually forgiven you for

killing my mother. I wanted to give you a

chance based on who you were, not on

something you did as a child. Why is it so

impossible for you to extend the same

courtesy to me? You're a Maker-damned

demon, but I let it go and came to trust you

and care about you for who you are. Torrid,

you even abandoned us, decided to become

the Devil, and then waged war on us, and

I've still made a place at my table for you.

They should lock me up because I must be

insane treating someone so well who

continually treats me like dirt!'

Ilgrin stepped back from the table. 'I . . . I

don't know what else to say.'

'So . . .' El-i-miir said softly after the other

two had remained silent for an extended

moment. 'Where's Seeol?'

'He's probably out hunting those little

green lizards he's obsessed with,' Ilgrin

grumbled when nobody else answered.

'Actually, Seeol decided to return to the

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borderlands.' Seteal shrugged.

'What?' El-i-miir and Ilgrin exclaimed in

unison.

Teah chuckled a little too forcefully. 'I'd

forgotten all about the little bird; hadn't

even noticed he was missing.'

'He left yesterday morning,' Seteal

replied.

El-i-miir burst out laughing. 'So he's still

in Elmsville then?'

'You needn't be so cruel.' Seteal frowned.

'He's just a little bird.'

'Yes,' El-i-miir smirked, 'a little bird that

has almost cost us our lives more times than

I care to count.'

'All the same.' Seteal shrugged as she got

out some bread and jam, putting it at the

centre of the table.

'May I ask why he's returning to the

borderlands?' Ilgrin said softly, his eyes

remaining lowered.

'I'm not sure,' Seteal replied. 'He waffled

on about having lost his key or something.'

'A key?' Teah piped in.

'I'm sure it's nothing.' Seteal picked up a

knife and spread some jam over a slice of

bread. 'What could Seeol possibly know? He

called it a ball at one point.'

'The key is a sphere,' Teah said

emphatically.

'Not now, Teah,' Seteal moaned. 'We've

been over this and I've really had enough. I

haven't eaten in days and for the first time

in a long time I'm hungry, so I just want to

get as much of this down as possible before

I lose my appetite. Plus . . .' Seteal put a

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finger to her lips and rocked a little in her

chair. 'I think I'm still a bit drunk.'

'Well, I'm not at all surprised with the

amount you drank this morning,' Teah

reprimanded.

'I know what this is,' El-i-miir blurted out,

collapsing into the chair across from Seteal.

'You remember when the Jenjen thought that

Seeol was the Holy Spirit?'

'How could we forget?' Ilgrin laughed.

'Those people will remain a mockery until

the end of time.'

'Yes, well,' El-i-miir continued, 'does

anyone remember that black pebble he was

toting around?'

Seteal nodded and bit into a thick slice of

bread. 'I can't imagine where he found it,'

she said almost unintelligibly before going

to great efforts to swallow the excessively

large chunk. 'That must be what he meant

when he said he had to find his "ball key."'

'That's it,' Teah choked out with wide

eyes. 'You've left the fate of the world in the

hands of an owl.'

'Oh, calm down.' Seteal waved her hand

dismissively. 'He doesn't have any hands,'

she joked before turning to Ilgrin. 'Is she

always like this?'

'Afraid so.' He smiled. Teah got up from

the table only to return moments later

flipping furiously through the pages of the

Holy Tome.

Ilgrin leaned in close to Seteal. 'Are we

okay?'

'Look, whatever, Ilgrin.' She waved her

hand distractedly. 'I'm over it. Just think and

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do whatever you want. It makes no

difference in the end.' She peered over

Ilgrin's shoulder. 'Would you please put that

thing away, Teah?'

'Just a minute.'

'But I want it to matter,' Ilgrin insisted. 'I

want us to be friends.'

'Oh, for Maker's sake.' Seteal put down

her knife and stood up, her friendly

disposition having transformed into

frustration. 'Put the damned book away! I'm

not interested.'

'There,' Teah cried frantically. 'There. It's

here.' She shoved the book up under

Seteal's nose. 'Please, Seteal. It's one

sentence. Just look.'

'"And Maker took the stone and made it

perfect so that no impurity could be found

within it by all of the Hae'Evunly host. And

Maker said, 'I, your Lord Maker, hath

invested power over the Ways within thy

Devil's stone, that ye may keep thy covenant

with Me.'" This could mean anything,' Seteal

said before taking another mouthful of

bread. 'It's just another story about Maker

putting powers into things.'

'Ridiculous,' El-i-miir snorted, slouching

in her chair and crossing her arms.

'Is this ridiculous, too?' Teah slid her

finger down the page where she ceased

moving it and waited while Seteal's eyes

followed the writing.

'So it basically says that Sa'Tan used the

very same stone to open the gates of

Hae'Evun.' Seteal bit her lip and sat back

looking perplexed.

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'Not you, too.' El-i-miir threw up her

arms. 'These are just stories. Silts have

shared the same world with us since the

dawn of time.' She stared up at a bunch of

blank expressions. 'You know what?' El-i-

miir wiped her hands on a towel and tossed

it onto the table, 'I'm going for a walk. You

all enjoy your little Holy Tome study group.'

She crossed the room, slamming the door

when she left.

Seteal scrunched up her nose and busied

herself collecting the dishes. 'I think El-i-

miir's right. Who's to say Seeol's pebble

isn't just some black rock he's picked up in

his travels? It wouldn't be unusual for him to

do that. He's always developing silly little

obsessions. You should have seen him last

year. He was utterly obsessed with El-i-miir.

You know he even became a--' Seteal froze

in her tracks and Ilgrin's jaw dropped at the

memory.

'He became a what?'

'He became human,' Ilgrin answered.

'He became human?' Teah repeated,

gaping at Ilgrin and then turned to Seteal.

'And you didn't wonder why?'

'You don't understand,' Seteal said

defensively. 'At the time it wasn't unusual for

Seeol's appearance to change. For a long

time he'd become a giant monster at random

intervals. He couldn't control it until finally I

did something to him. I'd only just recently

changed his Way and we really didn't know

what to expect out of him. When he became

human, we were all just sort of relieved that

it hadn't been something worse.'

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'But you said that he's never had control

over these transformations?'

'That's correct.'

'And you also said he was obsessed with

El-i-miir.' Teah sort confirmation, which she

received in the form of a nod from both

Ilgrin and Seteal. 'So becoming human was

very likely something he chose to do in the

hopes of gaining her respect as an equal.'

'Now you've lost me,' Ilgrin slapped his

hands down on the table and pushed back

his chair. 'There's no way in torrid Seeol has

that much cunning in him. I simply cannot

believe it. He's just a bird.'

'He can talk.'

'Lots of birds can talk.' Seteal nodded in

agreement with Ilgrin. 'Seeol is just not that

clever. You've seen the way he behaves.'

'You're probably right,' Teah murmured.

'Perhaps he thought of it more simplistically

than the way in which I described it. But

what if he was having a nesting instinct or

something of the sort and thought of the

stone as an egg. All he'd have to do was

accidentally touch the stone while feeling

whatever primitive love he has for El-i-miir

and the stone would've granted his desire.'

Ilgrin raised his eyebrows. 'This is just all

so surreal. Nobody really believes in stuff

like that.'

'I can show you more.' Teah shrugged. 'I

can show you the prediction that the great

whisp would come north, the story of the

Holy Spirit descending in the clouds,

prophesies foretelling the war we're living

through now. Even the angel hunts were

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predicted as a sign of the end. It's all in

here.' She waggled the Holy Tome before

their faces.

'So . . .' Seteal shrugged. 'Assuming

you're right--'

'Which I am,' Teah interjected.

'What do you propose we do?'

'We have to locate the gates of Hae'Evun,'

Teah replied. 'The Scriptures teach us that

Maker--being a merciful Maker--would place

the key in the lock, leaving the Holy Spirit

only to turn it so that the gates could be

opened.'

'Maker!' Seteal slapped the table.

'Of course, Maker. Who else?'

'When Seeol's time ran out as a human,

he fell down a crevice in the earth. That

must be where the key is.' When Seteal

looked up she must have glimpsed Ilgrin's

doubt because she rushed on to explain.

'Seeol would've had the stone in his pocket.'

Teah looked about ready to cry with joy.

'You are the Holy Spirit,' she whispered

gleefully. 'Look here,' she pointed at a

passage in the Tome. 'Nobody will know the

day nor the hour. No man nor the silts of

Hae'Evun, but only Maker. And if you're the

spirit of Maker, that includes you.'

'It might be time for us to stop fighting

this, Seteal.' Ilgrin reached across the table

and squeezed his friend's hand. 'Maybe you

are the Holy Spirit.'

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Matt-hew 24

32. "Now learn a parable of the fig tree:

When the branch is yet tender and putteth

forth leaves, ye know that summer is nigh.

33. So likewise ye, when ye shall see all

these things, know that the end is near, even

at the doors.

34. Verily I say unto you, that generation

shall not pass till all these things be fulfilled.

35. Hae'Evun and Earth shall pass away,

but My Words shall not pass away.

36. But of that day and hour, knoweth no

man, no, not the silts of Hae'Evun, but Maker

only.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER FIFTEEN

### ISOLATION

Seteal may have been content eating out of

cans, but El-i-miir certainly was not. It was

for that very reason why she used her time

away from the house to make some

necessary purchases at the local market.

After entering a rickety little building, El-i-

miir found herself swamped by nasty glares

and disapproving head-shakes. She hurried

about her business gathering vegetables and

a loaf of bread before making her way to the

counter.

'That's it?' the owner grumbled and then

demanded an unusually large number of

coins.

El-i-miir frowned, digging about in her

bag. 'That's a bit expensive, isn't it?'

'You scared my other customers away,'

the shopkeeper replied nonchalantly.

When El-i-miir cast her eyes about the

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market, she realised that the man was quite

correct. 'Sorry about that,' she mumbled,

dumping some bronze coins into the man's

hand. 'That's all I've got.'

'That'll have to do then,' the owner

uttered, shoving the money into the till. 'Do

try not to scare off anyone else as you leave.'

El-i-miir stepped outside and placed her

armful of paper bags on the bench in front

of the shop. She dug around in her purse

and felt the sharp angles of her mirror. She

pulled it out and stared at the reflection of

her eye. She stared for a long time at the

white pupil and wondered when it had come

to be something so feared. Was it the power

they knew she possessed that struck at the

people's hearts or had it been cruel men like

Far-a-mael who'd given the Elglair a bad

name?

By the time El-i-miir had slid the mirror

back into her bag and collected the

groceries, she turned around to find herself

confronted by a group of young boys. 'Stone

the witch!' the ringleader shouted, pitching

back his arm and throwing a rock at El-i-

miir's face. The pain brought tears to her

eyes.

'Little bastards.' El-i-miir cried out when

another couple of rocks bounced off her arm

and hip. 'Run!'

She felt her many pairs of legs turn and

hurry down the street in terror. She cast an

eye over his shoulder and saw herself

looking back at herself. When the children

were far enough down the road, she severed

the possession and made her way home. El-i-

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miir crashed through the door into a scene

that was quite different form the one she'd

left.

Teah sat beside Ilgrin with her hand on

his arm and the two were laughing,

apparently at something Seteal had said.

The laughter ceased when El-i-miir came

closer and Ilgrin pulled away from Teah. 'Is

something funny?' El-i-miir asked with a

forced smile as she set down the groceries

on the table in such a way that it limited eye

contact between Seteal and the other two.

'Your face,' Ilgrin said in alarm.

'It's nothing,' El-i-miir murmured,

whipping out her mirror and examining the

cut on her forehead. 'Some boys wanted to

stone me. And does anyone know what

"witch" means?' The others simply shrugged

or otherwise indicated their ignorance.

'Was there a tall blond boy at the front?'

Seteal asked. 'That would be the Ohrilly boy.

His parents should be flogged. He's always

stirring up trouble.'

'Let me get that.' Ilgrin reached across

the table to take the paper bags. El-i-miir

watched the stretch of white flesh with

vulgar blue hues. His fingers, devoid of nails

curled around the bags and dragged them

across the table. As he lifted them his wing

protruded slightly for balance. El-i-miir leant

back against the wall and despite her better

senses began to shake uncontrollably.

'Are you all right?' Teah stood.

'Get away from me,' El-i-miir said firmly

before exiting the room.

'El-i-miir?' Seteal hurried after her and

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took her arm. 'Ilgrin told us what happened,

but you're safe here. You know that.'

'The resurrections.' El-i-miir felt her lip

quivering. 'I've lost count of how many times

I've died.'

'Seteal,' Ilgrin murmured as he

approached. 'Let me talk to her. Would that

be okay, El-i-miir? Could I speak with you in

private?'

'Sure.' She wiped her nose. 'Of course,'

she added as the two entered the sitting

room.

'Listen,' Ilgrin whispered, placing a hand

on her shoulder. 'I know that what you went

through must have been traumatic.'

'To say the least.' El-i-miir dabbed at a

tear.

'Well, I didn't stop loving you when I

ordered you to leave Hel,' Ilgrin changed the

topic. 'I loved you very much.'

El-i-miir cringed at his use of past tense.

'Loved?'

'Um . . . recent events have shown me

that maybe a human and--'

'No no,' El-i-miir cut him off and backed

away.

' . . . and a demon,' Ilgrin picked up where

he'd left off, 'perhaps shouldn't be together.'

'Why are you saying this?' El-i-miir

choked out. 'I just need a little time. I'll be

okay. You don't need to do this.'

'It's more complicated than all that,'

Ilgrin insisted. 'Whether you want to believe

it or not, the gates of Hae'Evun are real and

when we open them, what do you think is

going to happen to me? I'll have to return to

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the world that my ancestors abandoned.'

'So that's it, is it?' El-i-miir stared

hatefully through the doorway and into the

kitchen where she could see Teah's wings

floating beside her chair.

'Yes.'

'Rubbish,' El-i-miir shoved him in the

chest. 'It's because of that bitch in there!'

'For the love of Maker, would you keep

your voice down?'

'Do you love her?'

'This isn't about Teah.'

'I don't believe you,' El-i-miir hissed.

'You're a liar. Liar! I know, Ilgrin. I always

know a lie.'

'All right,' Ilgrin snapped. 'I care about

her, yes, but I loved my mother, too, and my

father. Maybe even Seteal. But it's not the

same kind of love as that which I shared

with you. If you're so good at detecting the

truth, you must believe that.'

'Don't let her get in there, Ilgrin.' El-i-miir

poked the left side of his chest. 'Your heart

is mine.'

'Don't you think I'm painfully aware of

that?' The silt flushed blue, suddenly angry.

He threw up his palms to reveal his recently

acquired blisters and burns. 'I almost died

resurrecting you, just like I almost died

saving you from demons. I got shot when we

were looking for Teah. I almost drowned. I

was caught in the fires of Hel and I'm sure

you've lost count of how many times you've

died. Well, guess what? I've lost count of

how many times I've had to resurrect you.

And that's how I know . . .' Ilgrin's voice

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Cael McIntosh

shuddered. 'That's how I knew Seteal's

prophesy would come true that I'd die

saving your life, because as long as we're

together, I'll be there to protect you. That's

why we will never work.'

'I don't understand,' El-i-miir sobbed.

'I'm tired.' Ilgrin lowered his face so that

his dark blue hair fell forward. 'I'm tired of

being scared. Every time you get into

trouble, I have to wonder if it's my last day

alive. Will it be this time that I die? Is this

how I'll meet my end? It's driving me insane.

The cost of loving you is just too much. You

know how I know that? Because when I was

in the river, my body having almost been

torn apart, my head hit the bottom and I let

go,' Ilgrin stressed the final words. 'Do you

understand me? I gave up.'

'You nearly drowned?'

'I nearly drowned and Teah saved my life.'

Ilgrin nodded slowly. 'When I hit the bottom

I was grateful. Finally I wouldn't have to

wonder anymore. I knew that if I was dying,

you had to have been safe somewhere. So I

gave up. And I'd be dead if it weren't for

her.' He jabbed a finger toward the kitchen.

'Well, I refuse to waste another day fearing

it'll be my last.'

'But I love you,' El-i-miir said, trying to

restrain tears. 'Don't go.' She grabbed his

arm, only to be dragged across the room

with him. 'I love you.'

'Well, I don't love you,' Ilgrin barked,

shaking free of El-i-miir's grip so fiercely

that she hit floor. There she remained, her

eyes filling with tears as she inwardly cursed

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her Elglair heritage.

She stifling a sob. 'You meant that. You

really meant that.'

'Yes,' Ilgrin said slowly, seemingly unable

to believe it himself. 'Apparently I did,' the

demon murmured, leaving to resume his

conversation with the others. He closed the

door behind him, leaving El-i-miir to wallow

in self-pity.

*

When Seteal heard the front door slam

she took the opportunity to excuse herself

from the table and made her way outside in

time to see El-i-miir running away. She

pursued her, having concerns that she might

again be attacked by the pack of boys.

Seteal found her outside of Narvon Wood

sitting beneath a tree with her head down

and her arms wrapped around her legs. 'Get

up,' Seteal uttered.

'No,' came El-i-miir's muffled response.

'He said he doesn't love me.'

'Is that so?' Seteal replied tiredly. She

wished her biggest problems could've been

so small as those associated with romance.

'He meant it,' El-i-miir sobbed. 'I could

tell.'

'Maybe he did.' Seteal sat down beside

her. 'So win him back.'

'I shouldn't have to.' El-i-miir looked up,

revealing a face wet with tears. 'He should

still love me.'

'Maybe he does,' Seteal shrugged.

'I just told you--'

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'--that he meant it,' Seteal finished for

her. 'I know. So maybe he did mean it in the

heat of the moment. I once told my father

that I hated him. I was so angry that at the

time I truly thought I meant it.' Seteal

looked over at the graveyard with a heavy

heart.

'Perhaps you're right.' El-i-miir sniffed,

resting her head back against the tree.

'Seteal?'

'Yes.'

'You don't really believe in the gates of

Hae'Evun, do you?'

'I might,' she replied apologetically.

'You know what the Tome says about girls

like you, right?'

Seteal bit her lip. 'I do.'

'So you know if it's all true . . .' she trailed

off.

'I know,' Seteal exhaled slowly. 'He hates

me. I'm nothing holy.'

'Maybe you're supposed to change?' El-i-

miir offered.

Seteal suitably burst out laughing. 'If only

it were that simple. My whole life could've

been a lot easier.'

'So, the black stone?' El-i-miir asked after

a long while.

'That,' Seteal said slowly, 'I believe is

something truly remarkable. I only wish I'd

realised it earlier.'

'Do you think it could create an opening

into Hae'Evun?'

'It was able to turn Seeol into a man . . .'

Seteal rocked forward to make patterns in

the dirt with her finger. 'Listen, El-i-miir, I'm

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not sure how much of the Tome is really

true, but I can float. I can leave my body.

These things are true. So I don't know if the

Holy Tome got the details right, but I think

it's got a point. If there is a way to open up

the gates of Hae'Evun, why shouldn't we

seize it? I know it sounds desperate, but the

world is turning to torrid. Maybe we can get

rid of these monsters once and for all.'

Seteal slapped a hand over her mouth and

got to her feet, immediately regretting what

she'd said. 'I'm sorry.'

'No, it's okay,' El-i-miir choked out. 'He's

the love of my life, but that's not worth

losing the whole world for. I know that.' She

got up to look Seteal in the eye. 'So tell me,

what're you doing about it?'

'What do you mean?'

'If the key is so important,' El-i-miir

pushed, 'why haven't you projected. As a

spirit you could locate it in minutes and

bring it back here. You can make things

float, right? So when it comes to the fate of

our world, why the torrid are you depending

on an owl?'

Seteal pursed her lips. 'I'd rather not talk

about it.'

'That's it?' El-i-miir shot her a distasteful

expression. 'That's all you're going to give

me? We're supposed to be friends.'

Seteal opened her mouth, but found she

was quite unable to reveal the truth. 'Sorry.'

She turned to go home.

'Wait.' El-i-miir grabbed her arm. 'You

owe me an explanation.'

'I don't owe you anything, El-i-miir,'

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Seteal said accusingly.

'And what's that supposed to mean?'

'Well, it's true,' Seteal replied. 'I don't

owe you, or Ilgrin, or the rest of the world a

Maker-damned thing. Just because I can do

a few things that others can't, doesn't mean

I should have to.'

'I cannot believe how selfish you are.' El-i-

miir frowned disapprovingly and headed

back toward Elmsville.

Seteal watched the woman make her way

cautiously along the dirt road and into the

distance. Thunder rumbled. The sky

darkened to match Seteal's mood and as had

happened so many times before, she

vanished into the frozen reality of the

knowing. A legion of no less than one

thousand troops beat their wings on

approach to Elmsville. Seteal put a hand

over her mouth and took a few uncertain

steps. She could stop them before they

arrived. All she had to do was leave her

body. She pushed against the Ways and felt

the strings that bound her beginning to

snap. Her ability to see became something

other than what she saw simultaneously

through her eyes. The canvas of the Ways

exploded into existence before her, but she

was reluctant to release the final hold on her

body.

With a violent wave of nausea, Seteal felt,

smelt, and tasted Parrowun's decaying flesh.

She heard his screams from the past and felt

his pain and fear as he'd died. She felt the

pressure around her throat and the inability

to breathe. She pulled at her body firmly,

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desperate to escape the horrors that the

Ways forced upon her. Seteal stitched the

canvas back around herself, even as new

strands fell apart of their own volition.

'Let me stay,' Seteal cried, losing her grip

on the physical world.

'Is that what you really want?' a

serpentine voice hissed from somewhere

beyond the canvas.

Grains of dirt trickled into the wooden

crate buried behind Seteal's house. There

Parrowun's body decomposed: his eyes

sunken in, his lips eaten by worms, his skin

becoming hard and green. Seteal could feel

it all. 'I can't leave,' Seteal whispered as the

Ways settled down around her. 'If I leave

now, I'll never come back.'

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Heb-bri-ew 3

10. Therefore I was grieved with that

generation, and said, 'They do always err in

their heart, and they have not truly known

My Ways.'

11. So I swore in My wrath, 'They shall not

enter into My rest.'

12. Take heed, brethren, lest there be in

any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in

departing from the Lord Maker.

2 Pe-t-er 2

21. For it would have been better for them

not to have known the way of righteousness,

than, after they had known it, to turn from

the holy commandment delivered unto them.

22. But it has happened unto them

according to the true proverb: 'The dog turns

to his own vomit,' and, 'the sow that was

washed, to her wallowing in the mire.'

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER SIXTEEN

### THE TRUTH

The field was green, decorated by only one

tree at its centre. It was there that the silt

escort had left Jakob to complete his task.

From such a vantage point, the town of

Elmsville was a smear of white chimney

puffs and slate-tiled rooftops in the quaint

valley below. He knew what he should be

doing. He should scurry down there with his

hair in disarray making wild claims about

small children being tortured in the

southern parts of Narvon Wood. Or perhaps

he could claim that he'd discovered a

handful of dissonant silts that'd taken

human women as sex slaves. That'd be sure

enough to prick Ilgrin's overly righteous

conscience. This was all his fault anyway,

Jakob thought irritably. Noah would've killed

him, so he'd had no choice, but Ilgrin . . . If

he only would've let El-i-miir die, all of this

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could've been avoided.

Ilgrin was supposed to have been their

saviour. Jakob had worked hard to put the

rightful Devil on the throne and yet when it

had finally been accomplished, the

ungrateful wretch had just thrown it all

away. And for what? The Elglair--the enemy.

Over the years Jakob had assassinated

some thirty-eight people; the most recent

having been his own father. That, too, he'd

done for Ilgrin. He'd so badly wanted his

father to be the last and yet here he was on

the precipice of yet another murder. It'd

never bothered him so much as it did now.

But for his father, he'd never personally

known any of his previous targets and

certainly hadn't come to consider them as

friends.

Jakob cast his eyes over his shoulder,

expecting at any moment to hear that awful

sound. A thousand sets of wings would tear

the clouds to shreds as they made their way

to slaughter the inhabitants of the miniscule

town below. Ilgrin would suffer enough with

a life ended during battle. Surely he didn't

deserve the fate Noah had planned out for

him. But what would happen to Jakob if he

fail to deliver?

Rolling up his sleeve, Jakob stared

disparagingly at his silt wing tattoo with

loathing. It was a cruelty of life, having

received it before he was old enough to

know what it meant. It was unfair of his

parents to have decided for him in whom he

should put his faith. Now in his mid-

twenties, surely it was time for Jakob to

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choose his own destiny. He rolled down the

sleeve and turned around. Noah would find

him, of course. He'd lost the affiliates, but

that didn't mean there weren't other Elglair

Sa'Tanists loyal to the cause. Jakob pushed

back his blond hair and took a deep breath.

It was time for him to start taking

responsibility for his actions.

They could kill him if they wanted to, but

he was done with taking people's lives.

*

'Ilgrin tells me angels are capable of

controlling whisps,' Seteal said urgently,

having corned Teah in the kitchen.

'Sometimes.' Teah looked at her sideways.

'They're not usually very cooperative, but

sometimes we can manage to convince them

to find a new target. They tend to be more

agreeable if the trade-off appears to work in

their favour.'

'What about the white ones?'

'Sieifts?' Teah raised her eyebrows. 'You

don't need an angel for that. Most people

can control them in some rudimentary way.

They're docile enough and usually willing to

perform any good deed asked of them. What

is it with all the questions?'

'I need you to make one,' Seteal said

quickly before she could change her mind.

'You're not suggesting . . . ?'

'You can use me,' Seteal insisted. 'I'll do

it.'

'That's out of the question. You don't

know what you're asking.' Teah frowned.

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'It's pain unlike anything you could imagine,

like being burned by a thousand fires and

cut by a million blades all at once.'

'I don't care. We need that key and I have

to do something.'

'And what are you planning exactly,' Teah

narrowed her eyes. 'Even sieifts have their

limitations.'

'You could ask it to bring us the key,'

Seteal suggested.

'That would require that either the sieift

or one of us knew where it was,' Teah

replied. 'And besides that, I highly doubt you

could find a sieift with enough intelligence

to accomplish such a task.'

'All right.' Seteal looked about

desperately. 'Well, we could ask it to help

Seeol find it.'

Teah tapped her chin for a few seconds.

'That might work. At any rate, I'd have to

convince the sieift that such an activity is a

work of good. They're not interested in

doing mundane chores, you know.'

'Then you'll do it?'

'You're the Spirit of Maker.' Teah flicked

her hair over her shoulder and looked down

into Seteal's eyes. 'I'll do whatever you ask,

even if it is against my better judgement.

But I must ask, why don't you just . . .

project, I think Ilgrin called it?'

'I'm not able to leave my body for now,'

Seteal said evasively.

'But couldn't you just float down to the

borderlands and find it yourself?'

'I'm fast,' Seteal murmured. 'But I'm not

that fast. This way is better.'

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'Really?' Teah scrunched up her nose in

disbelief. 'Leaving the world's salvation to

an owl and a sieift is a better idea than

doing it ourselves?'

'I will not leave,' Seteal stated with

finality. 'Now, let's get this over with.'

'All right.' Teah followed Seteal upstairs

and waited for her to lie down on the bed.

'You mustn't stop until you're certain

you've created a sieift of infallible

proportions.'

'I'm really not comfortable with this,'

Teah objected.

'Just do it,' Seteal demanded before

clenching her teeth in anticipation of what

was to come.

*

El-i-miir threw down the chopping board

and started cutting the carrots into thin,

circular pieces. She wasn't feeling

particularly generous toward the household

in general, but preparing supper would

allow her to focus on something other than

her sense of isolation.

'What're you doing?' Ilgrin asked from the

doorway.

'What does it look like I'm--ouch,' El-i-miir

cried out, having slipped and cut her finger.

'Now look what you've done.' She found a

towel and put pressure on the wound.

'Listen,' Ilgrin started, his eyes on the

ground. 'I came to apologise for what I said

earlier.'

'What's done is done,' El-i-miir said

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bitterly and resumed chopping the

vegetables. 'I'm too much of a burden to

love. I understand. I'm surprised you didn't

turn against me sooner.'

'No one has turned against you, El-i-miir,'

Ilgrin said. 'I don't not love you.'

'You,' El-i-miir pointed the knife at him,

'are a very confusing man, Ilgrin Geld.'

'I know.' He replied. 'I know that.'

A scream fell through the floorboards

from above. So horrific was the sound that it

took El-i-miir a moment to recognise it as

belonging to Seteal. She tried to get out of

the kitchen, but Ilgrin moved to block her.

'Get out of the way!' she shouted as Seteal's

scream intensified.

'She made me promise we wouldn't come

up,' Ilgrin replied nervously.

'To torrid with that.' El-i-miir threw a fat

lump of affiliation into Ilgrin's aura that sent

him sprinting across the room. She ran up

the stairs and barged through Seteal's door

to find her writhing in agony. Teah hovered

above her with outstretched hands. 'Seteal,'

El-i-miir cried, before charging at the angel.

The angel thrust out a hand, snapped her

fingers around El-i-miir's throat and lifted

her, choking, from the ground. She kicked

out her feet, but couldn't quite make contact

with the angel's leg. She reached for Teah's

aura, but had become too lightheaded to

manipulate it by any useful means. 'I need

my hand back,' Teah growled. With a wave

of her arm, the silt threw El-i-miir across the

room where she crashed into the wall and

hit the floor with a thud.

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'Stop it,' El-i-miir sobbed. Teah replaced

her hand and Seteal's screaming ceased, her

agony becoming such that she could no

longer spare the breath to vocalise.

'Enough!' El-i-miir shouted. She affiliated

Teah's aura and the angel pulled away.

El-i-miir stepped back and Teah's face

became one of horror in reflection of her

own. She looked at herself panting on the

ground across the room, before turning her

attention back to Seteal in time to see a

white whisp purging its way from any exit it

could find.

'Seteal,' El-i-miir asked through Teah's

mouth. 'Are you okay?'

'Release her.' Seteal gagged, looking El-i-

miir in the eye. 'This is important.'

El-i-miir snapped the cord and Teah

turned to her with a look of disgust. 'I

should kill you, you miserable little

creature.'

'Teah,' Seteal said tiredly, sitting up as

streams of white mist flowed from her flesh.

'The task.'

'Of course,' the angel replied. She raised

her hands and the mist condensed. It

churned about itself, becoming an

increasingly dense ball. Teah gesticulated

and the ball floated close to her. As it came

to hover between her hands, her aura

started to shine vividly, allowing El-i-miir to

view it properly for the first time. The ball of

sieift blasted through the window and

vanished so quickly that El-i-miir hadn't

been able to follow it with her eyes. 'It's

done,' Teah murmured. 'The rest is up to the

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bird.'

El-i-miir hurried to Seteal's side. 'Are you

all right?'

'You should rest for a few days,' Teah

cautioned, 'but you won't have suffered any

permanent damage.'

'You're a monster,' El-i-miir said in

disgust.

Seteal wearily stood and turned to face

her. 'You . . . don't ever get to call me selfish.

Not ever. I have given everything. You don't

get to accuse me of that ever again.' That

said, she marched out of the room.

'What the torrid was that?' El-i-miir

glared at Teah. 'You talked her into it, didn't

you?'

'Seteal is capable of independent thought,

you know.' Teah looked at El-i-miir as though

she'd just taken a bite out of something

rotten. 'She's stronger than you give her

credit for.'

'Hey.' El-i-miir snatched at Teah's arm to

stop her from leaving. 'You just . . . you need

to stay away from these people. Maybe this

is all a game to you, but I actually care

about them.'

'Why don't you just say what you really

want to.' Teah smiled mockingly.

'All right.' El-i-miir took a deep breath

and looked up into her eyes. 'Stay away

from Ilgrin. We can work things out if you'll

give us some space to do so.'

'Really?' Teah raised her eyebrows. 'Poor

dear.' The angel petted El-i-miir's cheek

condescendingly. 'Your gil-honed abilities

are so flawed when it comes to that which

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you do not wish to see.'

'What?' El-i-miir almost laughed. 'You

cannot possibly think he's interested in you.'

Teah bent over and put her lips beside El-

i-miir's ear. 'It sure seemed like it when he

fucked me.'

El-i-miir fell back against the wall. 'You're

not lying.' Her voice shook. And through the

swirling mush of lights and streams flowing

in and out of Teah's aura, she found strand

linking the angel to Ilgrin. 'Oh, Maker.' She

covered her mouth in horror. The angel

simply laughed and left the room. 'How

could he?' El-i-miir squeaked to nobody as

she slid down the wall with a broken heart.

*

Seeol's muscles ached, elf owls not being

partial to such lengths of time in flight. His

wings were better purposed for fluttering

about the trees to capture bugs and squash

them, not flying endlessly. Seeol stopped

atop a slender branch which flexed wildly

beneath him. He dug in his talons, breathing

heavily and snapping at the bitter-tasting

ants biting his feet. They were disgusting.

He hated them!

Wondering where he was, Seeol peered

through the trees. On account of his brilliant

sense of direction, he knew that he'd been

flying southeast, but how far he'd come was

a mystery. He'd crossed a river at some

point, but was yet to breach the woods and

escape into the open countryside. Surely it

couldn't be too much longer. He'd been

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flying for days and was so very tired.

Seeol twitched toward a sound in time to

see a snake rear back and flash forward.

Snakes always seemed to be in such a hurry.

A branch snapped and fell toward them at

the exact same moment and as the snake's

jaws snapped shut they did so around the

branch. Seeol shrieked in alarm and took off

back into the night.

The thought of El-i-miir kept him going.

His heart skipped a beat. Seeol wasn't a

fool, having come to accept that she would

never feel the same way. She'd made that

abundantly clear. Still, love didn't have to be

returned for it to be maintained. Thunder

tearing through the sky signalled the

beginning of a storm and Seeol's flight

became laboured as his feathers moistened.

He dipped lower and lower until finally he

splashed into the mud.

'Is don't not matter, Seteal,' he murmured

to himself as he hopped along the ground. 'I

am not gonna giving up.'

The world was a dangerous place for an

animal so small as Seeol, and it'd taken him

a long time to figure out why he'd survived

at all. At first he'd thought Seteal had been

protecting him, but more recently had come

to realise that it was the inner darkness. It

had disturbed him greatly at first. If the

darkness was protecting him, then it

followed that it must've been doing so for a

dark purpose. Evil never produced good

works. Seeol had learnt that quickly.

A howl rose up from somewhere in the

north, but Seeol was fearless. He knew he

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could not be harmed by any earthly creation.

His darkness twisted and recoiled. It was an

uneasiness that Seeol was not accustomed

to. His stomach turned to lead and despite

the pouring rain the world fell silent.

Glancing about himself, Seeol found he was

quickly overcome by fear. He turned and

saw something churning against the wind.

The white mist stood out in the grey of

night. Long streaks of lightning illuminated

it ever more fearsomely. As the white spilt

toward Seeol, he found himself without

doubt that it was coming to get him. He

lowered his head and hurried on. He beat

his wings but couldn't even reach a half

stride into the air before splashing back into

the mud. He couldn't out run it. He couldn't

match it. The white mist bit into his flesh

and drained him.

Seeol opened his eyes to find himself in a

place of silence. Impenetrable white

surrounded him on every side. 'Hello?' he

called, but there was no response other than

for the white to close in on him. He

screamed in fits of agony as a putrid black

mist tore away from his body. He rolled

about in horror, flapping his drenched wings

and screaming. His heart burned and its

beat became irregular as the dark film

ebbed away from him. Blackness poured out

from Seeol's mouth and was snatched up

from his flesh only to be devoured by the

churning white vacuum.

Golden eyes burst open and Seeol

tumbled across the dirt. Above him the sky

was black. There were no stars and the

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lightning had changed. Prolonged strands

like purple serpents snapped at the earth

where fires came to life and animals became

monsters. Despite his disorientation, Seeol

tried to regain his senses. There, in the

distance . . . but it couldn't be.

The great crevice that cut through the

earth, leading down into eternity was only a

hundred strides away. Somehow, Seeol had

been propelled by the white mist into the

borderlands. He was back at the battlefield

where Far-a-mael and the Jenjen had made

their stand. This was where he'd lost the

Devil's Stone--the key to the gates of

Hae'Evun.

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## CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

### TALONS

Seeol bounced cautiously over to the

precipice. He knew that doing so may well

be risky business. The crevice had almost

swallowed him last time. He tried not to look

about himself too much. The number of

vultures had reduced, most of the bodies

having had every last scrap of meat stripped

from their skeletons. The vast majority were

human, the silts having resurrected many of

their own before they'd gotten too dead.

Peering over the edge, Seeol momentarily

lost his footing, but quickly regained it and

watched stones he'd dislodged fall endlessly

into the dark. He took a moment to wander

about the edge of the pit until finding a spot

where he was semi-confident could've been

the place where he'd lost his clothing. He

pitched forward and opened his wings.

Seeol was immediately confused by the

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sounds of echoing voices, but he couldn't

pinpoint them because they bounced of

every surface. He dipped this way and that,

inspecting a variety of ledges as he

descended. Eventually the light became so

poor that even he had trouble making out

the shape of the rock face. The voices

bouncing around the cavern didn't help

either, only serving to confuse his sense of

direction.

There was a loud roar as a mass of rocks

tumbled down from above and a gush of

wind sent Seeol spiralling out of control. A

moment later a thick column of purple light

blasted passed him and continued down into

the distance, thereby illuminating the pit.

Realising that the whisp lightning

wouldn't last long, Seeol seized the

opportunity to take in his surroundings.

Some fifty strides below a group of men

harnessed in a network of ropes were

searching for something. Twenty strides

above them a dusty lump sat precariously

balanced on a short ledge. The purple

lightning vanished. Leaving a black stain on

Seeol's vision, but it couldn't erase what

he'd already seen: his trousers.

'Did you see that?' A deep male voice

enquired from below. 'I think we might've

missed something.' A lantern illuminated his

face.

'Are you certain,' an oddly familiar voice

replied. 'I don't want to waste any more

time down here than we have to.'

'I thought I saw something on the ledge

above.'

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'I'll hoist you up,' a third and much

younger voice chimed in.

'Torrid,' Seeol hissed. The men had also

noticed his pants.

'What was that?' the familiar voice said

uneasily. Seeol inwardly reprimanded

himself for having spoken. If their voices

echoed, so too would his. Fortunately the

men's attention shifted when a guttural

moan erupted from the depths of the pit.

'For the love of Maker! It sounds like the

lightning left something down there for us.

Let's check out the ledge and get out of

here. We can start again tomorrow.'

As quickly as possible, Seeol flew to the

ledge and landed atop the trousers. 'What

was that?' the younger man cried fearfully

at the reverberating sound of Seeol's wings.

'It's just a bat or something,' the deep

voice said dismissively. 'Help me with the

rope.'

'It didn't sound like a bat to me,' the

familiar voice said suspiciously.

After sparing a second to ponder as to

how he knew the voice, Seeol dismissed it

and decided that there were more important

things to worry about. He slithered into the

mass of material in search for his right

pocket, but his efforts were useless against

the weight of the enormous garment. With a

final desperate yank, the trousers rolled

over and a pocket was revealed. But he'd

pulled too hard and before he could do

anything about it the pants slid right off the

ledge.

There was a gasp of surprise. 'What is

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that?'

'What's wrong?' The young voice

enquired.

'I think . . . yes, a pair of trousers fell on

my face,' the deep voice said in

bewilderment.

Seeol paced back and forth across the

ledge, not sure of what to do. He dove over

the edge and snatched at anything he could

for a place to land. The owner or the young

voice shrieked fearfully and battered Seeol

out of his tangled mop of hair. 'There's

something in here.'

'Stop being such a baby,' the deep voice

chuckled. 'It's just a bat.'

Seeol leapt onto the pants hanging from

the man's arm and wriggled into the pocket.

He squirmed down into the depths and

locked his toes around a cold sphere; the

Devil's Stone. He'd found it. 'Enough,' the

familiar voice announced. 'I can't see a

single thing down here. We'll resume the

search tomorrow. Now, unless you plan on

keeping those . . .'

'No, they're pretty filthy,' the deep voice

replied.

Seeol became weightless as he sailed

through the air and into the abyss, trapped

within the confines of his pant pocket.

Unable to control his fear, he shrieked,

flopping back and forth and around and

around.

'Wait,' he heard the familiar voice cry out

from some distance. 'I know that sound.' In

that very moment, Seeol too recognised his

voice. It was Phil Yas, the man he'd banished

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from the Jenjen army for knowingly putting

Seteal and El-i-miir in danger.

The voices disappeared into obscurity as

Seeol squirmed against the cloth all the

while trying to maintain his grip on the

Devil's Stone. When he'd finally untangled

himself, the sky above was little more than a

slither of barely distinguishable grey on

black. A thunderous roar deafened him and

left his ears ringing. He flew furiously but

was bumped aside as a cold scaly head

snapped past him followed by a seemingly

endless neck.

Increasing numbers of the creatures

snapped at Seeol as he flew for freedom, but

no amount of distance he put between

himself and the creatures seemed to

separate him from them. As the light

increased steadily, he was able to make out

that there was in fact only one monster, but

that it had seven heads and ten horns. It had

four legs and a long tail. The multi-headed

creature tore its way after Seeol and up

toward the surface.

The muscles in Seeol's wings burned, but

he didn't dare slow down and test the

degree to which his darkness would protect

him against such a monster. He propelled

himself out of the abyss and into the open

air, but he did so too late. One of the

monster's many heads shot out after him

and snapped shut.

Seeol shuddered in the moist darkness of

the monster's mouth as it tried to swallow

him whole. 'No!' Seeol shouted, losing his

grip on the Devil's Stone. It rolled to the

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back of the monster's throat. 'Is mine!' He

dove toward it, but was then pushed farther

back as the monster again tried to swallow.

Terrified for his life, Seeol bit its massive

tongue as hard as he could. The monster's

mouth burst open and Seeol was blown out

into the night on its hot breath. The stone

disappeared down the monster's throat.

Gunfire filled the air. Seeol tumbled

across the ground. The sticky saliva had

coated his feathers in a layer of dirt and

grass. The monster reared up on its hind

legs and snapped at a group of some thirty

Jenjen soldiers defending a small camp of

maroon-coloured military tents. Only when

each head had received a bullet, an arrow,

or had been severed by a sword did the

monster buckle and become silent. 'Yuck,'

Seeol grumbled as he tried to flick and flap

away the saliva and grime.

'Listen up,' Phil Yas called out to his men

when he was certain that the beast was

dead. 'I have reason to believe the false

prophet is close. It has likely returned to

find the very same artefact that King

Harundor sent us to retrieve. If you discover

it, you must capture it. If you cannot capture

it, you are to kill it. Is that clear?' Phil

continued once the men had shouted their

agreement. 'As for this monster of the deep .

. . put it back to the depths from whence it

came.'

'No,' Seeol whispered. He had to choose

between two equally unfavourable options.

Either he revealed himself and the location

of the stone to the Jenjen, or he pursued the

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monster into the pit and attempted to

retrieve the stone himself. There would only

be one way to do that. He'd have to go

inside.

Frozen by uncertainty, Seeol watched as

the men lined up to push the giant corpse

back toward the abyss. Seeol tried again to

shake the saliva out of his feathers, but the

stuff was impossibly thick. It occurred to

him that even if he could get inside the

monster, it was very unlikely he'd be able to

find his way back out. There really was only

one option.

'Phil,' Seeol cried, racing across the

expanse, his feathers too caked for him to

have any chance of flying. 'Phil Yas!'

Phil gaped at Seeol as he approached to

within a few strides. 'Get it!'

'The stone,' Seeol cried. 'The Devil's

Stone; the monster swallowed it.'

'Halt,' Phil barked and the men ceased

pushing the monster toward the edge. 'Get

the bird.'

For now the stone was safe, but there was

no telling what these men would do to Seeol.

He knew how they'd interpret what had

taken place when they'd considered him to

be the Holy Spirit. They'd blame him for it,

none having greater reason to dislike him

than Phil.

Seeol scrabbled through the grass.

Chunks of land erupted into the air all

around him as bullets hit the earth. He was

blasted sideways, leapt to his feet, and

continued at a feverish pace. An arrow

sliced through the air. Seeol fell onto his

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face, his wings outstretched. Searing pain

wove its way up Seeol's leg and he turned to

find himself pinned to the earth, his foot

buried beneath the dirt from which an arrow

protruded. He tore his leg free, to find that

only a bloody stump remained where his foot

had previously been. Blood squirted from

Seeol's leg as he hobbled over to a patch of

long grass.

Shock engulfed him. His darkness had

failed to protect him. He pushed through the

pain as heavy footfall flattened the grass

around him and giant hands swept about in

search of him. Seeol realised that his life,

perhaps for the very first time, was truly in

danger. The white whisp had sucked the

protective darkness out of him. Seeol felt

alone in becoming exactly what he'd always

wanted to be: just like everyone else.

'I've got it,' a man cried victoriously, his

hand squeezing Seeol and dragging him into

the air.

'No,' he cried shakily and bit the man's

finger as hard as he could.

Seeol fell back into the grass and started

hobbling away. 'Get it!' someone cried. He

almost passed out each time his bloodied

stump touched the earth, but he kept going

all the same. He stumbled, constantly having

to flick out his wings to keep balance. He

glanced at his foot and found the wound to

be clotted with dirt, trailing dark red

blotches with every painful step. He felt

dizzy.

'Got you,' Phil hissed victoriously,

snatching him into the air. Seeol tried to bite

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him, but the man held him in such a way

that he couldn't move his head, having

wedged it between two fingers. 'They said I

was mad,' he chuckled, 'but I knew that

sooner or later you'd come back to find it. A

creature of evil would never miss such an

opportunity for power, so I came prepared.'

'Please,' Seeol moaned wearily. 'Letting

me go. I'm having to do important activities.'

'I prepared for you all right.' Phil laughed

as he made his way over to a large black

horse. Hanging from the saddle was an

object Seeol had never encountered, but it

didn't take long to realise its purpose.

'There you go.' Phil slid a small door open

and forced Seeol into a circular bird cage.

'You're a greater prize than the stone itself.

The king will be most pleased.'

Seeol missed the perch and fell to the

cold metal floor. The door slid down and was

locked. Without anything solid to grip onto,

Seeol slid along on his feathers and attacked

the bars. His head then lowered

involuntarily and his eyes closed. He felt his

tongue clicking softly within his beak and

tried to breathe through the phantom pain

of an absent foot.

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## CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

### PERSPECTIVE

'I know.' The portly woman shook her head

and dumped a ladle of green mush into a

small bowl. 'I'm just saying, we have young

boys in this town and everybody knows the

sinful desires rattling about in a boy's head.

It's just not right,' she stressed. 'She can't

just go floating off in the sky like that. What

if one of them had seen up her dress?'

'Mother!' Cindi dropped the spoon. 'I'm

certain that was the last thing on anyone's

mind.'

'Don't be so sure,' Cindi's mother, Mel,

frowned and peered out the window to

watch her fourteen-year-old son kicking a

ball in the yard. 'Idle hands are the devil's

playground.'

'I'm going for a walk,' Cindi excused

herself and stood up.

'I'm sorry, dear.' Mel's voice softened. 'I

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know you cared about her very much.'

'I should go over there,' Cindi mused

aloud. 'Apologise.'

'What?' Mel gasped. Cindi spun around at

the sound of clattering cutlery. 'You cannot

possibly mean that.'

'Seteal won't hurt me,' Cindi said slowly.

'Are you blind?'

'What do you mean?'

'I'm simply asking if you're blind, dear.'

Mel shrugged. 'I'm doing so because I

cannot arrive at any other conclusion than

you having somehow missed seeing what

that Eltari woman did the other day.'

'We did try to chase her out of town.'

Cindi focused on the floor at her toes. 'She's

always been rather short-tempered. You

know that.'

'Now you listen to me,' Mel snapped, her

patience having run out. She stomped

across the room and took Cindi by the ear.

'You're not to go near her, do you hear me?

If you want to behave like a child, I will not

hesitate in bending you over and spanking

you with the cooking ladle.'

'Yes, Mother.' Cindi cringed, her ear

throbbing.

'There are demons over there,' Mel said

in a hushed voice. 'For Maker's sake, child,

don't be such a fool.'

'Yes, Mother,' Cindi repeated demurely.

'If I hear mention of this again, I'll have

no choice but tell your father. He'll

backhand some sense into you.'

Cindi turned silently and made her way to

the window. She stared out across the

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square and was able to make out the roof of

Seteal's house. She dared not disobey her

mother, but Cindi couldn't imagine Seteal

ever hurting her, no matter what she'd

become. She had always been rather quick

to anger, but above all else she had also

been fair.

The sky had been divided in two and it

unsettled Cindi as much as anyone else

living in Elmsville. The northern half of the

sky was perfectly normal, whilst Narvon

Wood had come to be bathed in eternal

darkness below the strange black clouds

that steadily moved north. It didn't take any

great stretch of wisdom to realise that soon

enough Elmsville, too, would lie in the

shadows. Cindi felt certain that if answers

were to be found, they would be at the Eltari

residence.

'What is that?' Mel enquired when a

strange sound floated in from outside.

Craning her neck, Cindi squinted at the

eastern sky. 'Thunder?'

A black line appeared on the horizon that

moved and flexed like a snake. Cindi tilted

her head in an attempt to make sense of

what she was seeing, but as the line got

closer the anomaly became less of a mystery.

The line thickened and the buzz became a

rumble. It was replaced by an obvious mass.

Cindi stumbled back in terror. There were so

many. How could there be so many?

'Cindi?' Mel hurried over and clamped a

hand on either side of Cindi's face to stare

into her eyes. 'What is it?' Without waiting

for an answer, she peered out the window

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and her face became as white as her

daughter's. 'Benje,' she cried, hurrying

across the room. She tore open the back

door and continued shouting at her son.

'Inside,' she shrieked. 'Get inside now!'

*

El-i-miir stood before the mirror clasping

Seteal's hair brush and moving it in long

strokes. It'd become free of knots at least

half an hour ago, which disappointed El-i-

miir. She'd enjoyed the knots; they'd given

her something to fight against. She gazed at

the bristles and raised her eyebrows at the

volume of black hair packed in among them.

Putting the brush aside, El-i-miir raised

her eyes to stare at her reflection. The war

had taken a toll on all of them and the

woman staring back had tired eyes. She

blew on her black-painted fingernails to

make sure the polish would dry. She also

wore a black dress. It seemed appropriate

after discovering the truth about Ilgrin and

Teah.

Turning away from the mirror, El-i-miir

caught sight of a glistening golden strand

drifting past the window. She squinted

through the grime, but was unable to

interpret the Way's meaning until she'd

opened the glass pane and snatched it into

her aura. 'Oh, torrid.' She hurried out of the

room. 'Seteal,' El-i-miir called out, taking

the stairs two at a time. She gasped when

she found her friend standing beside Teah

on the landing. 'They're coming,' she

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panted, grabbing the woman's arm in the

hope of shaking her into action. 'A legion of

demons are on their way.'

'I know,' Seteal muttered nonchalantly.

'You don't understand,' El-i-miir said,

feeling the panic rise in her chest. 'They're

innumerable.'

'No, they're not,' Seteal replied, without

making eye contact. She pushed back her

hair as though she didn't have a care in the

world. 'The legion is precisely one thousand

strong.'

'We have to do something,' El-i-miir

squealed, becoming increasingly distressed

by Seteal's behaviour. 'We have to warn

people.'

'As much as I hate to say this, she's right,'

Teah added begrudgingly.

'Why?' Seteal rested her head in her

hands.

'Have you lost your mind!?' El-i-miir

shouted when a distant buzzing filled the air.

'Oh, to torrid with you.' She hurried inside

in search of Ilgrin. She shouted his name

repeatedly, but there was no response.

'Okay, breathe,' El-i-miir told herself. She

looked back and forth across the room until

she found Ilgrin's past intentions. He'd left

through the back door. El-i-miir called out to

him until she found him in Mister Eltari's

workshop.

'We have to hurry,' Ilgrin said. His eyes

were fearful. Each hand carried a pistol.

'You know?' El-i-miir followed him around

the side of the house.

'It sounds like they're coming from the

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east. We'll make a stand in the town square.

Seteal.' He turned to rattle the kitchen

window. 'Come on.'

The woman's face hovered behind the

glass, but her eyes stared passed them,

seeming not to recognise their presence.

'It's just us this time.' El-i-miir took Ilgrin's

hand and made her way around the corner.

'Hey!' Teah pounced. 'I'm with you,' she

said with a pointed look at Ilgrin.

El-i-miir ignored the angel and raced out

to the town square. The townsfolk scattered

and disappeared when Ilgrin and Teah

joined her. 'You should hide yourself,' El-i-

miir warned Ilgrin as the first silts landed.

'Your strength is useless against your own

kind.'

'I'm not leaving you,' Ilgrin said forcefully.

'Yes, you are,' El-i-miir murmured. She

felt the inhuman strength of Ilgrin's muscles

as she affiliated him across the square and

made him hide behind one of the houses.

A number of silts landed with weapons--

scythes or swords--raised. Teah leapt in their

direction and a moment later they were

screaming in the dirt. Seteal stood

silhouetted in the doorway to her house, just

visible beside the one in front of it. Her face

was expressionless, cold and distant.

'All right,' El-i-miir whispered. 'It's up to

me.'

The Ways churned and danced about El-i-

miir's vision. Blinding light told vague

stories of what was yet to come. There

would be so much death. El-i-miir took a

deep breath and flexed her fingers in

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preparation as increasing numbers of silts

entered the town. She looked into the sky to

see pale figures flashing about against the

black clouds, knowing that she stood no

chance against so many.

A gunshot cracked across the square

causing El-i-miir to leap in surprise as a

demon she hadn't even noticed who'd breen

creeping up behind her fell to the dirt.

'What're you waiting for?' Ilgrin shouted

from his hiding place, the smoking gun

clutched in his hand. 'Do something!' he

cried, shooting a second demon.

El-i-miir spun around in time to find a

third attacker swooping down from above,

but instead of using the Ways against him

she fell on her face and cringed as she felt

the flurry of wings swish above her.

'Please don't kill me!' She screamed,

Mark's face filling her mind. 'Please!' She

was overcome by fear.

Rapid gunfire filled the air. Beating wings

blotted out all other sound. A demon hand

trapped El-i-miir's calf in an unbreakable

hold. The world spun as she was snatched

from the roadside and sent spiralling into

the air, where sinister faces danced and

mocked her.

*

Holding the lantern out in front of him,

Ilgrin negotiated a path through the spider

webs filling Mister Eltari's workshop. It

didn't take him long to find the old chest

Seteal had told him about. It was toward the

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back of the shop, secured by a rusty old lock

that'd proven little obstacle. He flipped open

the lid and discovered two pistols.

The eerie sound of silts approaching in

flight told him that he was running out of

time. A moment later, this was confirmed by

El-i-miir's fearful cries inside the house.

Ilgrin headed for the exit, but before he

could reach it El-i-miir had already opened

the door. 'We have to hurry,' Ilgrin said.

'Then you know?' El-i-miir asked, seeming

somewhat surprised.

'It sounds like they're coming from the

east.' He frowned at her assumption of his

ignorance. 'We'll make a stand in the town

square,' he stated, before becoming

distracted by a shadowy figure in the

kitchen window. 'Seteal,' he called, rapping

on the glass. 'Come on.'

'It's just us this time.' El-i-miir took

Ilgrin's hand and led the way around the

side of the house.

'Hey!' Teah pounced around the corner.

'I'm with you,' she said, staring into Ilgrin's

eyes. He didn't reply, but couldn't help

blushing.

With a disapproving shake of her head,

El-i-miir raced off without them toward the

town square.

'Ilgrin?' Teah took his hand and stared up

into his eyes.

'Not now, Teah.' He chased after El-i-miir.

'You should hide yourself,' she warned

when Ilgrin caught up. 'Your strength

useless against your own kind.' By her tone,

she'd clearly picked up on Teah's not-so-

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subtle nuances.

'I'm not leaving you,' Ilgrin said with all

the determination he could muster.

'Yes, you are,' El-i-miir replied. He agreed

instantaneously and crossed the square to

hide behind one of the houses.

Silts landed throughout Elmsville, with

their focus on the town square. Ilgrin

watched on in a semi-dazed state. Several

raised weapons, but Teah leapt at them and

a moment later they screamed and writhed

in the dirt. Ilgrin felt feel guilty. Perhaps he

should help out. He frowned. But he was

supposed to stay there. He was supposed to.

But wait, Ilgrin had Mister Eltari's pistols.

El-i-miir flexed her fingers, but her

expression was one of fear. Her face was

paler than usual and she was muttering

something to herself repeatedly. There was a

silt creeping up behind her and she was

completely unaware of it.

'Come on,' Ilgrin hissed. 'Sense him.' The

silt got closer and Ilgrin refused to wait any

longer. He aimed, all the while praying he

wouldn't hit El-i-miir, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed across the square

and the demon fell to the dirt. 'What're you

waiting for? Do something!' he shouted and

then shot a second victim.

When a third attacker swooped down

from above, El-i-miir spun around in time to

confront him, but instead of doing so, she hit

the ground and hid her face. 'Please don't

kill me!' she cried. 'Please!'

'What are you doing?' Ilgrin whispered to

nobody, his wings quivering nervously.

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Someone put their hand on Ilgrin's

shoulder. 'What're you doing back here?'

Spinning around in surprise, he came face

to face with a silt he'd never met, but of

course, that didn't mean the stranger

wouldn't recognise him. 'You!' The man's

eyes widened as he reached for his scythe.

Ilgrin reacted without thinking and pulled

the trigger on Mister Eltari's pistol. The

gunshot tore through the air and the

stranger hit the earth. When Ilgrin turned

around he saw El-i-miir becoming

increasingly overwhelmed by a flurry of

wings. The silts knew what she was capable

of and were closing in with caution.

Throwing himself toward the town

square, Ilgrin raised both hands in front of

him and fired repeatedly into the milling

crowd. A legion soldier cried out in fury,

snatched El-i-miir up by her leg and tossed

her into the air. Ilgrin threw open his wings

and thrust himself forward, but something

caught him and spun him around. A scythe

swung toward his throat.

*

The flowers were red and yellow. They

smelled nice but they were wrapped up in

an old cloth. It was all Seteal had been able

to find. She put the bunch down on the

gravestone and then blew her nose in a

handkerchief. 'I told Ilgrin where your guns

are,' she said quietly. 'I know you didn't

want me going near them so I didn't, I

promise. I just told him where to find them.'

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She laughed bitterly. 'If you could've gotten

past the wings, I think you might have liked

him. He's a good man. I'm sure he'll treat

them with respect.'

The graveyard had been emptied of

mourners since Seteal's arrival. There'd

been another two or three before she'd

come, but she was alone now. She rested a

hand beside the flowers. 'Red is your

favourite colour, but I thought you might like

the yellow ones, too. You always did like my

yellow dress. It's just that . . .' She trailed

off, supressing a sob. 'I'm not sure how

much will be left after today. They're

coming, you know? The demons, I mean. I

wanted to say goodbye.'

Seteal peered up at the southern sky

where the whisp cloud moved at a sluggish

pace. Purple lightning occasionally lit up the

atmosphere and rumbles deeper than

ordinary thunder followed the spectacle.

'Dad,' she whispered. 'Do you think mom

would've been proud of me? Do you

think . . . would you have been proud of me?'

Seteal covered her mouth. 'I'm going to

have to do terrible things today . . .

inexcusable things. Oh, Daddy, you'd have

done the same, wouldn't you?' She crouched

down and grasped the gravestone in both

hands. 'You'd have fought for Elmsville no

matter what, right? This is our home.'

The gravestone had nothing back to say.

Seteal got to her feet and continued to stare

at the stone.

'I'm glad you're dead,' She said bitterly.

'At least you'll never know what I've

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become. Goodbye, Father,' she murmured,

abandoning the graveyard.

When Seteal got home, she couldn't bring

herself to enter. It was Gifn's house, not

hers. She stood on the top step, her hand

resting on the railing. It'd been two days

since Teah had created the sieift and Seteal

was only just beginning to feel her strength

returning. She glanced up at the sky for

what seemed like the thousandth time that

day.

'It's getting close,' Teah said softly. Seteal

hadn't even heard her approach. 'The entire

world will be covered in darkness before the

end,' she finished wistfully.

'Here she comes.' Seteal hung her head in

exhaustion.

'Who?'

'Seteal!' El-i-miir's fearful cry drifted

outside.

'Oh, her,' Teah said distastefully.

'Seteal.' El-i-miir took her arm. 'They're

coming. A legion of demons are on their

way.'

'I know,' Seteal said softly.

'No, you don't understand.' El-i-miir's

voice became panicked. 'They're

innumerable.'

'No, they're not. The legion is precisely

one thousand strong.'

'We have to do something. We have to

warn people.'

'As much as I hate to say this, she's right,'

Teah agreed hesitantly.

'Why?' Seteal rubbed her forehead.

'Have you lost your mind!?' El-i-miir

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shouted as a distant buzz filled the air. 'Oh,

to torrid with you,' she fumed, rushing back

into the house and called out for Ilgrin.

'We cannot defeat a thousand on our

own,' Teah advised Seteal.

'I know that.' The distant buzz became a

rumble.

'Well, I hope you've got some sort of

plan.' She frowned. 'I'm going to go and find

Ilgrin.'

Seteal padded through the house in time

to see El-i-miir burst out the back door. She

made her way to the kitchen window and

stared across the yard at the tree beneath

which Parrowun was buried. She hung her

head as the rumbling came closer.

'Seteal,' Ilgrin called, slapping his hand

against the glass. 'Come on.' She ignored

him and soon enough he left her alone.

When the shouting started, Seteal tightened

her hold on the kitchen sink until her

knuckles turned white.

She strode through the house, pausing in

the doorway to gaze out onto the square.

Silt numbers continued to increase. El-i-miir

had been right. Compared to the number of

humans in Elmsville, the legion may as well

have been innumerable.

For the barest moment, Seteal glanced

over her shoulder in search of someone to

confide in. And it wasn't Ilgrin or El-i-miir,

Teah or her father. It lasted only a second,

but in that moment it'd been Seeol whose

company she sought. After all, wasn't he the

only one who truly understood the weight of

her sorrow? No, of course not; Seteal shook

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her head disparagingly. He was only an elf

owl, after all.

Seteal navigated the steps and made her

way around the squat little house in front of

hers. The square was in chaos. Demons

swooped and dipped. A group had

completely surrounded El-i-miir, who'd

somehow ended up with her face pushed

against the ground. Seteal spun around at

the sound of gunfire. Ilgrin was shooting

into the crowd with her father's pistols. She

followed him as he passed. When a silt

grabbed El-i-miir's leg and threw her into

the air, Ilgrin flared his wings and leapt after

her. A legion soldier hefted his scythe

toward Ilgrin's throat.

'I'm sorry,' Seteal whispered, squeezing

her eyes tight.

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Cael McIntosh

## CHAPTER NINETEEN

### DESECRATION OF THE SPIRIT

El-i-miir hit the pavement and the wind was

knocked out of her lungs. The skin on her

arm was grazed and her hip badly bruised.

Ilgrin's head landed beside her and

continued on rolling until she threw out a

hand and grabbed a handful of his hair. She

looked back in time to see his body hit the

ground squirting rich blue blood.

'Not today,' El-i-miir wailed. 'You won't

die for me today.'

She shuffled along the ground, dragging

Ilgrin's head toward his body, affiliating a

nearby silt as she went. 'Ilgrin,' she sobbed

through the silt's mouth. 'Oh, Ilgrin,' the

demon wept, falling over his decapitated

body. El-i-miir passed herself Ilgrin's head

and lined it up above his neck, but before

she could take further action a second

legion soldier swooped through the air and

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kicked Ilgrin's head so hard that it flew over

the first row of houses.

'No,' the affiliated silt wailed. He dove

into the air in pursuit of Ilgrin's head. El-i-

miir spread his wings and landed on the

other side of the houses, where they cast his

eyes about, searching desperately. They

found the head at the feet of a rather

shocked-looking Seteal. The woman stared

in silence at the head, her hair falling over

her face and obscuring it from view.

'Seteal,' the affiliated silt called. 'Throw

me his head.'

'Get away from me.' Seteal backed up

fearfully.

'You don't understand!' El-i-miir shouted

through his lips.

'El-i-miir!' Teah shouted as a demon

swooped toward her in the town square.

She rolled out of the way. As she did so

her affiliated silt twirled around in a circle.

'What're you doing?' Seteal said nervously.

'What're you doing?' Teah asked,

dragging her away from Ilgrin's body. Glass

shattered. Boarded-up doorways were

kicked down as demons entered homes in

their search for more humans.

'Get off me!' El-i-miir shouted from both

of her mouths. 'Seteal, do something.'

'El-i-miir?' Seteal gaped, stepping back in

recognition of who she was talking to. 'Go

on.' She nodded at Ilgrin's head. 'Take it.'

El-i-miir threw his hands around Ilgrin's

head before diving back into the air. She

landed beside his body, dodging through the

masses of silts as they spread out to stop

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anyone from escaping. 'What is he doing?'

Teah gaped, after having halfway dragged

El-i-miir across the square.

'I'm resurrecting him,' El-i-miir replied

determinedly.

'Go.' She gently pushed El-i-miir toward

him. 'I'll cover you.'

As though her words had called them into

action, El-i-miir, Teah, and Ilgrin's dead body

were then surrounded by soldiers. Teah

turned in slow circles, hands thrust out as

she unleashed her deadly power. There were

too many for her to do any real damage, but

at least she was able to slow them down and

little white puffs started bursting free from

their chests.

'Live,' El-i-miir begged through the

affiliated silt's mouth. She'd done this once

before, using Ilgrin to resurrect Far-a-mael,

but couldn't be completely sure as to how

she'd managed to do so. She snapped back

his hand and scratched at an annoying

itching sensation, only to then remember

something similar when she'd affiliated

Ilgrin. The silt sighed nervously as El-i-miir

replaced his hands. The itching returned,

soon to be replaced by a tingling that later

became a burn. Ilgrin's neck writhed,

reaching out toward his head, pulling it

close as his spine refused. His arteries

snacked back together and his purple eyes

opened.

'Oh, Ilgrin.' The affiliated silt put his hand

against his cheek and leaned down to kiss

him. 'I thought I'd lost you.'

'Get off me!' Ilgrin shouted, dark mist

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leaking from his mouth as he threw the

demon to the pavement.

'Torrid,' El-i-miir gasped, when she

realised what she'd done in her confusion.

'It's me.' She crawled over and cupped his

cheek even as the darkness spewed from his

flesh and wafted into the sky. 'It's only me.'

Teah's scream stole El-i-miir's attention

as she was swamped. She fell back into the

mass as they dragged her down. Several

reached for weapons, all too willing to kill

an angel. 'Seteal!' El-i-miir cried, catching

sight of the woman hiding beside a house

with big teary eyes.

A demon grabbed El-i-miir's ankle and

dragged her away from Ilgrin. Another drew

a sword tipped with silver and placed it

against his chest. 'Farewell, Mister Geld,' he

sneered. 'A human death for a human life.'

'Seteal!' El-i-miir screamed as the Ways

wrapped Ilgrin up in a threatening web of

red. 'Do something.' Seteal covered her

mouth and stumbled against the side of the

house sobbing. 'To torrid with it,' El-i-miir

cried as a demon put his pistol to her head.

She'd never wanted it to come to this.

She'd always hoped to remain a true friend.

Seteal had been violated too many times: by

Master Fasil, by southern whisp clouds, by

Far-a-mael and his anchor. Seteal didn't

deserve it, but El-i-miir would become

another in the long line to do so. She threw

out her hand and translucent strands spilled

from her fingertips. They coiled through the

air, dodging demons and twisting around

swinging scythes. The strands hesitated,

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reluctant about their destination, before

piercing Seteal's filmy, repugnant aura.

El-i-miir howled through both mouths,

overcome by Her almighty power. Seteal's

arms blew open and she rose up into the air.

El-i-miir whimpered. She couldn't control it.

She couldn't think. Her flesh burned. Fire

erupted from Seteal's hands. Lightning

struck the earth throughout Elmsville.

Seteal's body shook violently and El-i-miir

lost all control. A shockwave blasted away

from her in a circular fashion.

The house beside which Seteal had been

standing shattered into a thousand pieces

and was blasted into the one next door. The

people hiding within were incinerated, their

flesh boiling before they'd even known what

was happening. Any silts unfortunate

enough to have been in flight were sent

spiralling and thrashing, their bones

breaking, their wings torn to shreds.

El-i-miir felt Seteal's neck snap back.

Every tree in town burst into flames and the

houses pulled away from their foundations.

Now more fearful of Seteal than they were

of the silt invasion, the locals leapt out of

their homes to run in any direction they

could find escape.

In a distant place, El-i-miir felt her body

lying flat on the ground. She was convulsing

violently. Ilgrin had one of his wings

stretched out over her protectively as he too

stayed low to the earth beside Teah. That

was all El-i-miir was able to take in of her

past existence before drowning in the

entirety of Seteal, both unable to break the

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line that tethered them and also unable to

control it.

The thick strand of affiliation rippled.

Seteal shuddered, her body unable to cope

with the raw energy channelling through the

Ways. She jolted and the translucent cord

backfired, a wave speeding along its length

and reaching El-i-miir's hand. Her arm

snapped back and the line was severed.

*

Confusion was all about Seteal's mind, or

was she El-i-miir? The whisp sky shuddered,

enamoured by her power in its struggle to

embrace her. The hollow mind remaining

after affiliation sought freedom from its

grasp, or perhaps it was only she who

sought freedom from this reality. Seteal was

wracked by a spasm and a burst of raw

energy tore toward her friend, severing the

link. She fell ten strides to the earth, but not

a bone was broken. The fires of Elmsville

vanished and the remaining legion soldiers

not too maimed to do so, fled in terror.

Moaning at the realisation of what had

happened, Seteal closed her eyes and fell

away from her body into the canvas of the

Ways. She'd had enough. It was more than

she could take. She'd become more

damaging to the world than any silt invasion

could hope to be. That rotten body, the one

she could never make clean, disappeared

behind her as she embraced the Ways.

Seteal drank in the nonexistence and

banished that frail human corpse. She

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swirled and danced fading from the world.

Pain gouged into her soul. The baby

rotted so permanently in the ground. Gifn's

bones ached for justice. He'd been cheated

into giving up, into killing himself. Every

sorrow filled Seteal, the infant killer. She

received the death, felt the broken strands

and wept for her son. She slithered through

the canvas. What she'd done in Elmsville

wasn't something that could be forgotten or

forgiven.

Elmsville. Cindi slid out from beneath her

bed just moments after their home had hit

the ground. She held her brother's hand and

urged him to run. Dimain and Mel were in

the next room searching for their children.

Mistress Green was running north without

looking back. Tessa had thought herself

safest in a tree house her father had built

when she was young, whilst Mister Button

searched his shed for weapons. Despite their

unacceptance of Seteal, these people had

helped raise her, the poor girl with a vacant

father and an absent mother.

It was a cruel reality. At Gifn's funeral the

people of Elmsville had found solace in the

belief that he was joining Maker and

becoming one with the Ways. But Seteal

knew better. There was no becoming one

with the Ways for them. There was no

joining Maker or continuing to live in some

mysterious, magical place. There wasn't

even a torrid. All they had was this life,

which only made what she'd done that much

more deplorable.

Seteal had had enough. The rest could

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work itself out. She'd given enough. She'd

lost enough. And she'd taken too much. Into

the darkness, toward the sorrow Seteal

plunged. She fell infinitely away from the

body until it was scarcely a memory. Let it

finish itself, she pleaded.

'Not yet.' The two little words thundered

through her, tearing Seteal into a thousand

pieces before reassembling her and tearing

her apart again. The words had been more

of a sound than a voice and within them had

been the unmistakable tone of palpable

malice.

Falling back up to the Ways, Seteal

became increasingly whole again. Her

thoughts were confined to a smaller space

and reality felt increasingly cramped.

Writhing in agony, she begged and pleaded

that she not again be imprisoned. She

pleaded only for her freedom. She needed

not to be plagued by the misery of who she

was: a coward, a whore, and a murderer. But

the voice of malice laughed at her puny

attempt for freedom.

Seteal inhaled sharply, her vision once

again fixed on El-i-miir's horrified gaze. She

cast her eyes toward Narvon Wood, where

she was able to hear something for the first

time. There, in the dark, a beat not

dissimilar to that of a throbbing heart called

out to her. Entranced by the sound, Seteal

stumbled toward it. She ignored the purple

lightning that streaked and coiled, pushing

herself onward through the trees. Into the

gloom she persisted, until happening upon a

large clearing where everything was dead

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and the surrounding trees leaned away from

its centre. Some had even uprooted

themselves in their efforts to escape.

In the middle of the clearing stood a

foreboding tree, its trunk and leaves so

black that Seteal couldn't quite tell where

the tree ended and where shadow began.

Ignoring the dull ache in her head, she

stepped into the clearing and immediately

the temperature dropped. The dirt became

increasingly dark as she approached, before

finally matching the colourlessness of the

tree itself. Gnarled roots gouged into the

earth before disappearing at Seteal's feet.

Compelled by forces unknown to her, she

raised her hand and placed it against the

cold surface.

The sensation could not be differentiated

from pain as the cold stabbed through

Seteal's arm and burned into her mind.

Having been so preoccupied with reaching

the tree, Seteal hadn't recognised the

throbbing flowing throughout her body to

match with the tree itself. She hadn't

noticed when she'd started to cry. If she

could've just pulled her hand away, all of

this would cease. But she couldn't. Or

perhaps she wouldn't. Lost in delirium,

Seteal fell into a world of images, the tree

revealing its memories to her. It hadn't

always been this way. Once, it'd been like

any other.

The elf owl tumbled through the air,

landing between the roots to lay a perfect

black egg before flying away to die. The egg

remained in place for many years, pouring

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forth its misery into the tree and slowly

corrupting everything that'd once been good

about it. The tree became a thing of

darkness, which the animals of Narvon

Wood strayed far to avoid. By the time the

hatchling had revealed itself, the clearing

had been affected to such a degree that not

even the passage of a thousand years could

remove the stain.

The monster swooped low over the

woods. It shredded and sliced and killed its

victims. It destroyed indiscriminately, having

only evil in its heart. It never returned to the

tree . . . until it did. For a time, Narvon

Wood knew peace, the monster having

abandoned it. But it returned. It had

returned to the tree and hated the tree for

what it'd become even though the monster

itself was responsible for its desecration.

The elf owl destroyed anything that

remained too close for too long.

Seteal's eyes burst open and she was

propelled away from the tree. She stumbled

back along the cold earth. Her throat was

raw and her vision was fogged with tears.

She was pinned to the ground by a heavy

weight and it took all of her strength to drag

herself to the edge of the clearing where the

vegetation thrashed violently as it sought to

flee.

The wind was unrelenting and thunder

echoed as purple lightning flashed. Seteal

snatched at a handful of vegetation and used

it to drag herself to her feet. She stumbled

back through the woods as the rain began to

fall.

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'Oh, take me home,' she moaned. The

Ways snapped her up and sent her hurtling

above the trees. A moment later she stood at

the front door where she entered, her mind

buzzing. When she'd taken Seeol in, what

exactly had she chosen to sacrifice? Was he

the reason she couldn't find joy? Was he not

only the cause of Parrowun's death . . . or

her rape, but also of the general degradation

of her soul? It'd been Seeol all along. Just as

he'd poisoned the tree. he'd also been

poisoning her.

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## CHAPTER TWENTY

### BIRD CAGE

The seven-headed monster had been sliced

open down the length of its torso. Jenjen

soldiers with cringing expressions had

fished through its innards for the better part

of an hour, gagging at the foul stench and

seeking to avoid being splashed by black

blood.

Seeol watched through a haze of pain that

just wouldn't go away. He clung to a small

branch that crossed the width of the cage

with his good foot while sliding in and out of

consciousness. No matter how he arranged

his feathers, he was unable to properly

regulate his body temperature. One moment

he was freezing and the next he was burning

up.

'I've got it,' a soldier cried victoriously,

thrusting his clenched fist into the air.

Seeol's eyes burst open. He'd been

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anticipating this moment for some time. He

of all people knew the strength of the Devil's

Stone and feared how it might be used in

the wrong hands. It only had one use left,

which needed to be reserved for reopening

the gates to Hae'Evun.

'Show me.' Phil sauntered over, took the

stone, and washed it with water from his

flask. A smile crawled across his features

and he made his way over to Seeol's cage,

which hung by a leather strap from the side

of a soldier's horse. 'You see.' He pinched

the black pebble between finger and thumb.

'Now we have the stone and the false

prophet who lost it. King Harundor will be

most pleased.'

Seeol stared at the stone with a heavy

heart, but said nothing. Words were useless

in such a situation. Phil grunted and headed

for his tent. 'We set off at first light. I

suggest you all get some rest. There are

very few hours remaining.'

Seeol felt his eyes become heavy as he

watched the men make their way to their

tents. 'Seteal will come,' he whispered to

himself. 'She will know and she will come.'

*

Seeol woke with a start. It was afternoon

and the sun was unrelenting. He'd been

breathing with his beak open to compensate

for the heat without realising it. He raised

his wounded leg to find crusty blood that

occasionally oozed puss. With every step the

horse made Seeol was jolted hard. He lost

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his grip on the perch and fell into his own

faeces littering the cage floor.

'Admiral Yas,' called the soldier on whose

horse Seeol's cage was attached. 'He don't

look too well. We ought to give it something

to eat.'

'When we stop for supper, you can find it

something,' Phil replied from some distance

away. Seeol lifted his head against the sun in

time to see Phil turning away. 'It's a long

way to Veret. We cannot afford to stop.'

'What if it dies?'

'Then it dies,' Phil shrugged, without

turning around.

'Not to die,' Seeol wheezed. He took a

hold of the bars with his beak and good toes,

climbing slowly back up to the perch. 'Has

to help,' he murmured almost inaudibly.

'Helping my friends.'

It was dark when Seeol next awoke. There

was a small black snake in the bottom of his

cage. Its head and half of its body had been

squashed beneath a boot or something.

Beside it was a small cup of water. Seeol

hopped down and winced when he landed on

his stump. He didn't ordinarily drink a lot of

water, extracting most of the moisture he

required from his food, but Seeol's head was

aching and he thought it might help. He

filled his beak and tipped back his head to

let the dirty liquid run down his throat. He

nibbled on the snake for a while, but it was

bitter and cold. He'd never particularly liked

snakes anyway.

Unable to tolerate the dry, cracking saliva

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in his feathers any longer, Seeol took a final

swallow of water and used the rest to bathe.

He leapt in and out of the cup, taking special

care to clean his leg, before flying up to his

perch to preen for a good half hour. Pushing

his face against the bars, Seeol gazed out

across the camp to find the men singing

drunkenly around a small fire. Phil was

flashing the black pebble about boastfully.

Seeol cringed at the thought of him losing it.

Seeol tucked his head behind his wing and

went to sleep. Seteal would come.

*

'Ya!' Jakob cried, kicking his horse. If he

could just make it into the woods, he might

have a chance.

Dark shadows fell and Jakob was forced

to acknowledge that he'd lost the

opportunity. Unless, of course . . . Jakob

threw himself from the animal and tumbled

along the ground as Noah's clawed toes

closed around the saddle and the giant

demon lifted the animal into the air. He

tossed it aside a moment later. Jakob pitied

the horse, as all four legs were broken on

impact.

After diving into the woods, Jakob

sprinted through the trees, ignoring small

branches as they whipped at his face and bit

at his arms. Beating wings filled his ears and

the leaves fell away from the trees to spiral

about in gusts. Demons crashed down

around him, no doubt with Noah observing

from above.

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'Cease.'

A legion soldier leapt forward and placed

a blade at Jakob's throat. He leapt back and

spun around, but a second soldier swooped

in to block him. He was surrounded.

There was a heavy thud behind him and

Jakob closed his eyes in recognition of who

it was. 'Well, well, well,' Noah rumbled. 'You

wouldn't have been making a dash for

freedom would you, Jakob?'

'Not at all.' Jakob turned to face his

pursuer with a forced smile. 'My horse

needed the exercise.'

'Don't insult my intelligence,' Noah

boomed furiously, backhanding Jakob's face

with such force that it nearly dislocated his

jaw. 'Once a Sa'Tanist, always a Sa'Tanist,'

Noah growled. 'You know that.'

'Sorry, Noah,' Jakob moaned, immediately

regretting his mistake.

'My name is Sa'Tan,' Noah bellowed,

again beating the side of Jakob's head so

that stars danced across his vision. 'Why

have you failed me? Why have I been left

waiting to taste the flesh of the traitor?'

'I couldn't lure him out of Elmsville,'

Jakob sobbed, knowing well the punishment

for failure.

'What a shame,' Noah smiled

malevolently.

'Please,' Jakob sobbed, using his sleeve to

wipe snot from his nose. 'Don't kill me!'

'Oh, I will kill you.' Noah glared at him

'The question is as to whether or not I

should give you a second chance to do as I

asked.'

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'What?' Jakob shook his head in

confusion.

'Kill him,' Noah called over his shoulder.

'Make it slow. Be sure he suffers immensely,

then resurrect him and break his arm.'

'My arm?' Jakob murmured, scarcely able

to control his bodily shaking enough to

remain on his feet.

'Yes,' Noah sneered. 'In case you try to

run away again. You'll be slower with a

broken arm.' He turned to his men. 'I must

return to Abnatol. There is a feast waiting

for me; twenty-five human children.' He

winked at Jakob's shocked expression. 'It

will be divine,' Noah finished, leaping

through the trees and disappearing to the

north.

'Please,' Jakob took a step back as the

demons closed in raising weapons. 'Don't do

this. Just break my arm and we can pretend

like all the rest happened.'

'Sorry, son,' the closest legion soldier

replied, his eyes revealing sincerity. 'It turns

my stomach to do this, but you have no idea

what he's capable of. If he ever found out

we'd disobeyed his orders, he'd kill us, too.'

'Please,' Jakob begged, falling back

against a tree.

'I'll make it quick,' the demon whispered.

'That's as much as I can offer.'

'Okay,' Jakob inhaled deeply and closed

his eyes. There was a gunshot and Jakob's

leg buckled. His eyes burst open to see that

his knee had been shattered. He screamed

in pain as the act was repeated on his other

leg. A knife was stabbed through his

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stomach and quickly removed.

'I think that counts as suffering enough,'

the leading silt said apologetically before

plunging his knife into Jakob's throat. Blood

gushed and Jakob died.

His eyes opened. Someone took Jakob's

arm and he screamed as the bone was

snapped. 'It's done.' The demon's voice

shook. 'It's all right,' he cooed. 'It's done

now. It's over.' Jakob allowed the silt to help

him to his feet while he nursed his arm

protectively. 'Here,' he tore apart his own

shirt to make Jakob a sling.

'Thank you,' he managed to say.

'Just go,' the silt replied with desperate

eyes. 'Find Enoch and bring him to Narvon

Wood. If you value your life you'll ignore

your conscience and just do it. You want to

live, don't you?'

'Yes,' Jakob blubbered like a child.

'Then just do it and be done with it,' the

soldier urged. 'Enoch is just one man. Take

your life back.'

'Life?' Jakob looked him in the eye. 'What

kind of life is left for any of us?'

The question remained unanswered as

the demons ascended, leaving him alone in

the small patch of woods north of Elmsville.

Jakob turned slowly, ignoring the pain in his

arm. He put one foot in front of the other,

only to fall down coughing and gagging up a

wretched black mist that he'd come to know

too well.

*

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The whisp withdrew from the human

named Jakob and persisted through the

southern sky. Its target was in the distance,

where soon it would make its presence

known. There was nothing malicious about a

whisp carrying out its duties. If anything at

all, it was purely mathematical. People often

forgot that whisps were life-givers as much

as they were takers. This particular whisp

merely sought compensation for the fact of

its insemination, even if it intended on doing

so by the most effective means possible.

This was not the kind of whisp to spend

time seeking out a particular target and

bring death to that one insignificant

individual. No, Jakob's whisp wanted to

make a difference in the world and knew it

could never do so on its own, so instead it

churned toward the billions of kindred

whisps in the sky above. Too many had been

lazy, gathering together as a mighty cloud

rather than doing what they were supposed

to do. Together they could cause true

destruction. Together they would seek

compensation for countless other good

deeds yet to be repaid.

The black mist sank into the greater

cloud, its darkness merging and becoming

one with theirs. With the adoption of just

one more, the weight and density became

too much. A billion whisps moaned

harmoniously and thunder tore up the sky.

Lightning snaked toward the earth. And

soon the rain would fall.

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2 Peter 2

11. Whereas demons, which are greater in

power and might, bring not railing accusation

against them before the Lord.

12-14. These whisps, as unnatural brute

beasts, made to be taken and destroyed,

speak evil of the things that they understand

not, and shall utterly perish in their own

corruption, and shall receive the reward of

unrighteousness, as those who count it

pleasure to revel in the daytime. Spots they

are and blemishes, sporting themselves with

their own deceptions while they feast on you,

having thoughts full of adultery and who

cannot cease from sin, beguiling unstable

whispers of evil; their ways are exercised

with covetous practices; from the accursed

children!

15-16. Demons have forsaken the right

way and have gone astray, following the

ways of Sa'Tan, who loved the wages of

unrighteousness, but was rebuked for his

iniquity: the fool speaking with a man's voice

forbad the madness of the prophet.

17. These black clouds are without water,

clouds that are carried by a tempest, for

whom the mist of darkness is reserved

forever.

18. For when they speak great swelling

words of vanity, they allure through the lusts

of the flesh and through much wantonness

those who had clean escaped from those

who live in error.

19. While they promise life, they

themselves are the servants of corruption;

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for by whom a man is overcome, by the

same is he brought into bondage.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

## CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

### EXODUS

To my dear husband Gez-reil,

I'm writing to inform you of terrible news. The people

have lost their faith in the elders. This is true for none

more so than Far-a-mael. I've heard rumours from the First

Clef to as far as the eighth. Some say he's lost his mind.

Others claim he's been possessed by a whisp or some

other such unfortunate calamity. Myself? I am of the belief,

as you are aware from private conversation, that Far-a-

mael is quite simply a malicious, egotistical madman

that'll stop at nothing to satisfy his rather peculiar sense

of justice.

I hope you will forgive my language. I know well that

you were very close as children and young men. And of

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course I respect your judgement as always, but I fear for

your life and wish you would take every precaution. You

cannot trust him anymore. If you doubt this, you need only

dwell on his treatment of poor El-i-miir. Maker knows the

girl is probably dead. Need I bring up Jil-e-an's daughter,

the Eltari girl? His treatment of her was inhumane to say

the least.

I apologise, for I digress. I did not intend for the focus

of this letter to be toward the war elder. My intention was

to notify you of the dire situation taking place here in the

Frozen Lands. Far-a-mael has ruined us. More than half of

the gils we once had are now dead. The hadoans have

been reduced to such a small number that I dare not dwell

on it for fear of becoming too upset to continue writing.

And now Far-a-mael has taken the strongest of you and

abandoned us here with the silt invasion so close.

Again, I digress. Perhaps I fear your reaction. Maybe I

don't want your heart to sufer the same ache as mine.

Gez-reil, I suppose I must tell you that everyone is leaving.

The clefs have fallen silent. I cannot reach any of my

friends by letter and I'm beginning to doubt I'll reach even

you. Everyone is so scared. With the future so bleak it's

nearly impossible to keep a positive outlook.

Just last week I received word that Em-a-ra and her

family have moved to Sat Effin after hearing rumours, just

rumours, that the Riverenders are still standing strong

against the invasion. I weep in the knowledge that once

proud Elglair are seeking refuge among outlanders. It

breaks my heart, Gez-reil. I went outside yesterday and

cried out in the hope that anyone might hear me, but I

fear I'm the only one left in the clef. Even as I put pen to

paper I'm unable to believe the words I am writing.

Please come home, Gez-reil, so that we too may run

away before this madman destroys us all.

All my love,

Hes-la-tie

Gez-reil's hand shook as he put down the

letter and wiped his forehead, which had

come to be covered in sweat. He stared at

the papery skin on the back of his steadily

aging hand where it rested atop Hes-la-tie's

letter. 'What has come of us?' he asked

nobody with a shuddering voice.

Flickering lantern light stole his attention.

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Gez-reil was quick in using his Holy Tome to

squash the moth responsible for the dancing

shadows. 'I don't need you spying on me in

my own tent,' Gez-reil murmured as he

removed the book to ensure the moth's

demise.

'Gez-reil,' Far-a-mael's voice entered

before the man himself.

'Yes?' Gez-reil replied loudly. He

scrunched up Hes-la-tie's letter and shoved

it in his pocket.

'I've already read it,' Far-a-mael smirked,

his eyes turning to the squashed moth on

Gez-reil's desk. 'There's more than one of

me you know.' He opened his arms and Gez-

reil recoiled at the sudden increase of flying

insects. 'Fear not.' Far-a-mael's expression

softened. 'I have no qualms with Hes-la-tie.

She is a dear woman and I'm certain that

one day she will understand the significance

of these perilous times.'

'The people have lost faith in us,' Gez-reil

replied, no longer bothering to hide his

disgust.

'I know they have.' Far-a-mael's voice was

filled with sadness. 'And even worse, I know

that you have.'

'What did you expect?' Gez-reil said

exasperatedly, rising to his feet. 'You're

behaving as though you've lost your mind.'

'Trust me, as you did when I was a boy,'

Far-a-mael implored him.

'When you were a boy, you dragged me all

the way to Old World. I'd scarcely graduated

and was nowhere near ready for such an

adventure,' Gez-reil grumbled.

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'We survived it,' Far-a-mael chuckled.

'Barely.' Gez-reil caught himself almost

smiling at the memory. 'This isn't the same.'

'How can you be so sure?' Far-a-mael

rested a hand on Gez-reil's shoulder and

looked him in the eye.

'Too many people are dying,' Gez-reil

appealed to the conscience of the man he

knew now standing had once possessed.

'The Elglair are disbanding to the south.

They've lost any hope that their homes will

be spared.'

'Don't you see?' Far-a-mael squeezed Gez-

reil's shoulder. 'It has to be this way. You

were always so fond of that little book.' He

pointed at Gez-reil's tome. 'Recently I too

have taken an interest. I'm the Holy Spirit,

you see? I am Maker in the form of a man.'

'Far-a-mael . . . no.' Gez-reil took a step

back, his face falling as his old friend

revealed his inner madman.

'Don't you see?' Far-a-mael repeated,

stretching out his arms. 'I cannot die,' he

exclaimed, removing his knife and pushing it

slowly into his torso. Insect patterns

squirmed uncomfortably until he'd removed

the weapon, leaving not so much as a smear

of blood on his robe. 'I've been sent to rule

the world. This is so much bigger than the

Frozen Lands. I've been sent as a saviour to

all. I will destroy every last silt and the

world will know peace.'

'Then why haven't you done so!?' Gez-reil

shouted, having lost all patience.

'Because . . . she burdens my thoughts,'

Far-a-mael said distractedly

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'Who burdens your thoughts?'

'Why, Seteal, of course,' Far-a-mael

sneered.

'Just leave that poor child alone,' Gez-reil

wailed. 'Haven't we hurt her enough?'

'We've had this discussion! She killed me,'

Far-a-mael's voice fell to a whisper. 'She

could do it again.'

'Far-a-mael?' Gez-reil uttered after a long

pause. 'What are you actually planning to

do?'

'I'm going to kill her,' he replied.

'No,' Gez-reil barked. 'You said we were

going to anchor her, nothing more.'

'That's not true. I said you and the other

twelve would anchor her,' Far-a-mael

murmured. 'I intend to kill her as soon as

you've done so. We should reach Elmsville

by Wednesday. And you'll do as you're told.

My strength is growing, Gez-reil,' Far-a-mael

finished eerily. The tent soon swarmed with

a variety of insect and arachnid life.

Moths flew in from outside and fluttered

frantically about the lantern. Ants chewed

their way through the canvas and fat

roaches scampered across the floor. A dozen

spiders spun webs and a wasp stung Gez-

reil's arm. 'Ouch!' He slapped at the bite

and squeezed his arm.

Having made his point, Far-a-mael left the

tent and moments later so too did the insect

invasion. Gez-reil spun toward his desk and

snatched up a fresh piece of paper. He

paused and took a deep breath before lifting

his pen. He stared at the paper for a long

time, before writing the words he regretted.

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Dear Hes-la-tie,

Do not await my return. You must pack your things and

get out of the Frozen Lands. Find somewhere safe and do

so quickly.

Forever know that I loved you,

Gez-reil

*

'Don't move,' Jakob commanded, his

pistol pointed at the back of Ilgrin's head. 'I

swear if you so much as twitch those wings

I'll blow your brains out.

'Jakob?' Ilgrin turned, raising his hands as

he did. 'What happened to you?' he asked,

eyes dropping to the man's arm in a sling.

'It doesn't matter,' Jakob replied

miserably. 'Just do as I say.'

'What's going on?' Ilgrin's purple demon

eyes peered into Jakob's.

'Stop talking,' Jakob sobbed. 'You have to

walk ahead of me toward the woods.'

'Can't we just talk about this?' Ilgrin

implored softly, glancing toward Seteal's

house from his place in the workshop

doorway.

'No talking.' Jakob waved his gun

pedantically. He'd waited all night and some

of the day for Ilgrin to come outside alone.

Now that he had the demon, he couldn't risk

losing him. 'Start walking,' he said

forcefully, terrified that at any moment El-i-

miir would sense his presence. He slammed

the gun across Ilgrin's face and shoved it up

to his cheek. 'Move, Maker damn you!'

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'All right.' Ilgrin winced and did as he was

told. The people of Elmsville watched, but

did not object as they observed Jakob

holding a demon at gunpoint. 'I'm moving,'

he said. Jakob kept looking back until they'd

reached the outskirts of Narvon Wood

before allowing himself any hope that he'd

escaped El-i-miir's detection. 'Why are you

doing this, Jakob?' Ilgrin said gravely.

'Shut up,' Jakob snapped.

'You're better than this,' he insisted. 'I

know you think you have to do this, but you

don't. I can protect you from Noah.'

'I can't trust you,' Jakob bit back

miserably. 'You're just another demon. You

let us all down like the rest of them. You

were supposed to change everything, but

you ruined it.'

'I know that,' Ilgrin said regretfully as he

continued ahead of Jakob. 'I know I've made

mistakes. I should've done everything

differently. But it doesn't have to be like this.

Just tell me what's wrong. What do you

want?'

'My freedom!' Jakob shouted, waving his

good arm emphatically. 'Can you give me

that?'

'I could try,' Ilgrin said softly and stopped

walking.

'Keep moving,' Jakob snarled, but Ilgrin

ignored him and turned around.

'We were friends.' Ilgrin's face fell.

'Whatever happened after that doesn't

matter. I cared about you and I think if

you're honest with yourself, you'll admit that

you cared about me, too. So I'm asking you--

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Cael McIntosh

please, don't do this.'

'Maker,' Jakob sobbed, dropping his arm.

Ilgrin took a step forward, but Jakob had his

pistol raised again in a second. 'Don't move!'

he shouted hysterically. 'I didn't say you

could move.'

'All right, I'm sorry.' Ilgrin stepped back.

'I'm sorry, okay? I won't move.'

'I know what he's going to do to you.'

Jakob shuddered at the thought. 'I can't let

him do that to me, so you see, I have to

bring you to him. I have to.'

'No.' Ilgrin shook his head. 'Be better

than that, Jakob. I've seen it in you. I know

that there's something more to you than

cowardice. It's not too late. You can do

something good.'

'He'll get us both eventually,' Jakob said.

'Logic dictates that I should take you to him

so that at least I'll survive.'

'We can defeat him,' Ilgrin insisted. 'With

Seteal and El-i-miir, we can stop him, I

promise you.'

'He's going to kill everyone.' Jakob

sighed, staring at his pistol. 'Just look at the

world, Enoch. We had our shot back in Hel.

That was our chance and we've lost it.' He

raised the gun and put it against his head.

'You don't even understand. Everything is

gone, Ilgrin. Everything south, east, and

even north of here . . . they've taken it all.

They've taken everything. Where am I to

go?' Jakob blubbered, pushing the gun

against his temple.

'Don't.' Ilgrin gaped, reaching pleadingly

toward Jakob. 'Please don't do it. Don't do

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that!'

'He eats them!' Jakob shouted, his finger

tightening on the trigger. 'He feeds on

people while they're still alive. I've seen it!

This will be quick. This will be painless. I

can die on my own terms.'

Ilgrin's face squished up into one of

desperation. 'Please, Jakob.'

A gush of air threw Jakob onto his back

and into the leaf litter. He howled at the

stabbing pain in his arm as enormous wings

flared. Noah's toes closed around Ilgrin and

tore him up through the trees and into the

sky. 'Noah!' Jakob howled. 'Don't hurt him,'

he finished with a sob, before pushing

himself to his feet. 'We weren't supposed to

meet here,' he moaned, turning hurriedly

back toward Elmsville.

Jakob staggered along the dirt road

toward Seteal's house. As he came close, El-

i-miir burst outside and hurried down the

steps. She threw out her hand and made him

slap himself across the cheek. 'What'd you

do!?' she screamed, tears flowing down her

cheeks. 'What did you do?' She slapped him

again with her own hand.

'He's gone,' Jakob moaned.

'Where!?' El-i-miir shouted, waving her

hands frantically. Jakob snatched up his

broken arm and at her bidding started

twisting it with his freehand. He fell to the

ground screaming.

'Noah took him,' Jakob managed to say

through the pain. El-i-miir rewarded him by

releasing him from her power. 'They're in

Narvon Wood. I didn't mean it. I changed my

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mind. I was going to let him go.'

'Get inside,' El-i-miir snapped, casting her

eyes warily up at the sky.

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2 Thess-a-lin-ian 2

3-4. Let no man deceive you by any

means, for that Day shall not come, unless

there comes a falling away first, and that

man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition,

who opposeth and exalteth himself above all

that is Maker or that is worshiped, so that he

sitteth as Maker in the temple of the Lord.

5. Remember that when I was yet with ye,

I told ye these things.

6. And now ye know what withholdeth,

that he might be revealed in his time.

7. For the mystery of iniquity doth already

work: only She who now holdeth back will

hold him back, until he is taken out of the

way.

8-10. And then shall that wicked one be

revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with

the Spirit of His ways, and shall destroy with

the brightness of Her coming--even him,

whose coming is according to the working of

Sa'Tan, with all power and signs and lying

wonders, and with all the deceit of

unrighteousness in those who perish,

because they received not the love of the

truth, that they might be saved.

11-12. And for this cause Maker shall send

them strong delusion, that they should

believe a lie, that they all might be damned

who believed not the truth, but had pleasure

in unrighteousness.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

### THE BURDEN OF REMORSE

Seteal clenched the sink in anticipation of

painful energy. She squinted at her arms and

watched as strange bumps, like beads

beneath her flesh, followed the path of her

veins down into her hands, which she

clenched even harder for fear of their

escape. She jolted as her skin became

marred by black cracks that webbed out like

splitting porcelain. She held her breath until

the feeling had passed and the cracks had

faded.

This was not the first time in recent days

that her spirit had tried to escape. Her skin

felt like it was the thinnest paper ever to

have been cut. Seteal waited each time for

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the cracks to continue splitting, knowing

that sooner or later her spirit would break

free from the fragile barrier. Her time was

coming to an end.

'Seteal,' El-i-miir said cautiously as she

approached from behind. 'I'm sorry about

yesterday. I couldn't control it.'

'Me neither.' Seteal smiled at the irony.

'Don't worry about it. At least you did

something. I saw them coming. I knew for

days and I thought I'd be ready, but when

they swooped down from the sky . . . I just

couldn't bring myself to kill anymore. Do

you understand?'

'Of course,' El-i-miir put an arm around

Seteal's shoulders. 'You should eat

something.' She pulled away, surprised by

the bony frailty she felt.

'I'm not interested.' Seteal turned again

to look out the window. 'You were right,

though.'

'About what?' El-i-miir replied, although

her face revealed her distraction.

'It's time for me to find Seeol,' Seteal

replied. 'I will see that the town is evacuated

first, of course. I'm certain that more silts

will come and when they do, I don't want

any more deaths on my conscience.'

'How do you plan to do that?'

'After yesterday, I doubt it'll require much

prompting. I wouldn't be surprised if half of

Elmsville have already left.'

'And how do you expect to find Seeol?'

'I don't know,' Seteal shrugged, 'but if

there's even the slightest chance he's pieced

it all together and found this mysterious key,

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then I really must seek to pursue that. I

don't see any other way forward.'

El-i-miir smiled encouragingly, although

pityingly. She didn't believe in the key or the

gates of Hae'Evun. And she certainly didn't

believe in Seeol. 'We'll set off first thing

tomorrow.'

'What a sad world you live in.' Seteal

shook her head at El-i-miir. 'If none of it is

true, what hope can we possibly have?'

'You once told me that you'd rather the

hideous truth over a beautiful lie.' El-i-miir

raised her eyebrows, before taking Seteal's

hand. 'We can still fight without grasping for

comfort in antient myth as a magic remedy.

It's not over yet.'

'The war is done.' Seteal chuckled

mirthlessly. 'There never was a war, I

suppose. To think we could take on demons

and live . . . what fools.'

'We still have you.' El-i-miir squeezed her

hand.

Seteal laughed. 'Remember when Far-a-

mael made all of his big plans. He was going

to use me as his secret weapon. Goodness

me, how badly that plan failed! El-i-miir, I'm

not a very good weapon. I never was a

weapon. I was a person and now I'm pretty

sure that's gone, too.' She smiled bitterly,

avoiding El-i-miir's eyes. 'I can't just go

about killing people. I know that's what Far-

a-mael wanted and maybe you do, too, but

that's not me. It never was. You can't just

make someone give up their humanity. You

can't just aim me at something, pull a

trigger, and have me destroy it. How can you

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ask me to kill people when I don't even

know who they are or what they've done?'

Seteal exhaled in a rush.

'Okay.' El-i-miir nodded, a tear trailing

down her cheek. 'We'll go and find Seeol.

You and Ilgrin and me.' She smiled softly.

'We'll go and find that little bird, I promise.

And, Seteal . . .' Her voice shook as their

eyes connected. 'You'll be okay. One day this

will all be over and you'll get back to your

old self. You'll be able to smile and you'll

have something to eat, all right? I can't

stand hearing you go on about wanting to be

"free" anymore. I don't want for you to go. I

need you around. We all do.' El-i-miir bit her

lip. 'And not because of your abilities, you

understand? You have to hold on because

there are people who love you.'

'Sure,' Seteal said, hoping to placate her

friend, all the while knowing El-i-miir would

be able to detect her insincerity. She cared

about her as well. They'd been through so

much together, but she didn't belong in the

world anymore. It was only a matter of time

before she abandoned it.

El-i-miir's eyes widened and she put a

hand to her stomach. 'Oh, no! Ilgrin,' she

shrieked and ran for the door. She threw it

open and raced outside. 'What'd you do?' El-

i-miir screamed at a hunched-over figure

stumbling toward the house. Seteal watched

from the doorway. 'What did you do?'

'He's gone,' Jakob moaned.

'Where!?' El-i-miir shouted desperately a

moment before Jakob snatched up his arm

and twisted it.

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'Noah took him,' Jakob managed to say

through his pain. 'They're in Narvon Wood. I

didn't mean it. I changed my mind. I was

going to let him go.'

'Get inside,' El-i-miir snapped, casting a

wary glance at the sky.

Jakob stumbled up the steps and El-i-miir

shoved him to the floor. 'I should kill you!'

she shouted furiously.

'No,' Teah announced as she slid into the

room. 'We'll need him to find Ilgrin.'

'What if it's too late?' Jakob wriggled back

along the floorboards. 'He's probably dead.'

'He's not dead.' El-i-miir turned on Jakob

with an expression of contemp. 'You're going

to lead us to him. Come on.' She turned to

Seteal.

'I'm not going,' she replied. 'I have to find

Seeol.'

'I don't like this, Seteal. You shouldn't be

left alone,' El-i-miir bit her lip and stared at

her for a drawn out moment. 'Damn it,' she

turned to Teah, 'but we have to go. It's

Ilgrin.' The others raced for the door with

Teah dragging Jakob along reluctantly

behind her. 'Are you sure you won't come?'

El-i-miir implored one final time.

'Go,' Seteal waved her hand urgently.

'Find the man you love.'

*

He was aware that they were somewhere

north of Kintor in Kilk, but that was as far as

Seeol's knowledge extended. He shook

himself and watched in despair as far too

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many feathers fell away to meet with the

others he'd already lost. He used his leg

stub to scratch the back of his neck,

determinedly clinging to the perch. He

didn't want to fall into the mounting pile of

faeces and pellets. Was it so much to ask

that they clean his cage? Apparently so.

Seeol peered up at the northern sky, but

no matter how he craned his neck, blue

skies with puffy white clouds had become a

thing of the past. 'That leg is looking better,'

Marin acknowledged from his saddle,

glancing down at Seeol's cage which hung

lopsided by his knee.

'Yes.' Seeol examined the stump. 'Is sad

but because I was learning to read a bit and

I could turn pages. I don't think I'll turn

pages now.' He'd originally started replying

to his captor out of boredom and loneliness,

but Marin wasn't so bad. He was only

following orders and didn't seem terribly

fond of Phil Yas. So they had something in

common.

'You can read, eh?'

'Is true,' Seeol bobbed his head rapidly,

only to regret it when several more feathers

were dislodged.

'What's happening with your feathers

anyway?' Marin frowned and pointed.

'You've got quite a few missing there.'

'I does not!' Seeol retorted in his

embarrassment. He took a moment

thereafter to rearrange his feathers so that

they better obscured the bald spots. But the

problem was greater than one of vanity. He

was feeling the cold at night.

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'Must be the stress,' Marin mumbled

more to himself than to Seeol. 'My sister had

a bird once. Mind you, she wasn't a very

good keeper; always taking it out of the cage

and letting her kids squeeze it and such. It

lost its feathers from the stress. Then it

died.' He shrugged as though the fact were

an afterthought.

'This is such terrible news,' Seeol wailed.

'The poor little birdy.'

'Mister Gratt,' Phil called over his

shoulder. 'Would you shut that animal up?

For Maker's sake, do your job.'

'Better keep it down.' Marin nodded at

Seeol, turning to focus to the road ahead.

Seeol cocked his head to examine the

leather strap that looped through the bars of

his cage, keeping it fastened to the saddle.

He'd been secretly chewing on it at night

and nobody had noticed. A few more bites

and he was certain it would break. Maybe

one more night's worth of work and it would

be ready. He didn't know what good it would

do him. The cage was still locked. But even

having a little power over the situation made

it slightly more bearable.

'Here,' Marin murmured, squishing a

black beetle between the bars. 'I killed it

this morning.'

Seeol took the roach. He didn't mind

them. It was better than the snake he'd been

given previously. He beat it against his

perch out of habit before tearing off the

head and swallowing. He used to enjoy

holding his food, but now he had to squash it

between his foot and the perch as he held on

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and ate it by lowering his face to the meal.

Seeol examined his stump with a heavy

heart. He was ugly now. Everybody would

hate him and be mean to him. El-i-miir

would make fun of him and they'd probably

want to get rid of him even more.

Seeol finished his beetle and stretched his

wings. He hadn't flown in days. He rubbed

his beak against the bars to clean off the

insect goo, before fluttering down to his

bowl for a drink. The water had turned

green, but it would have to do. After

launching himself back onto his perch, Seeol

gazed silently into the distance.

When he'd been young and naïve in his

experience with humans, Seeol had taken

his continued survival for granted. He

thought about Far-a-mael and how the old

man with all his power and experience had

never quite managed to capture or kill him.

Seeol had been sheltered and oblivious to

his own fragility. Free of the darkness his

mother had left him, he could see that he

was indeed just a little bird, after all.

Seeol wondered, as he stared up into the

black whisp-infested sky, whether he'd been

too much of a burden on Seteal and the

others. He'd never understood fragility, and

had pursued them so persistently. It had

been wrong of him to do so when within he

carried the very same sickness everyone so

feared from the clouds above. He'd selfishly

pursued El-i-miir and had brought endless

miseries to Seteal without ever stopping to

consider how dangerous he was. He'd

pleaded for their friendship while failing to

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behave like a friend. He should have flown

away and never come back.

Of course, there was the stone, but in

Seeol's heart, his newly acquired

perspective was the very reason he needed

to survive. He had to look Ilgrin and El-i-miir

in the eye and tell them. He had to take

Seteal aside and make her understand. After

all they'd been through, Seeol needed her to

know how sorry he was and how much he

cared about her. She'd shown him more

friendship and kindness than he'd ever

expected, or deserved.

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

### FOR HIM

Ilgrin watched Jakob vanish as the woods

shrank beneath him and Noah swam higher

into the air. His toes were wrapped around

Ilgrin's torso and legs, pinning his wings

painfully against his body. 'I should crush

you,' Noah muttered. 'I should drain your

blood and break so many bones and . . .

that's why I'll . . . suck them dry.' Ilgrin

grimaced at the occasional snippets of the

mutant demon's mutterings able to reach

him over the wind.

A small cliff broke away from the trees at

about halfway through Narvon Wood. Ilgrin

yelped as Noah transferred him from feet to

hands before landing atop the cliff in the

midst of a group of at least a dozen legion

silts. He thrust Ilgrin into their hands. He

saw his chance and he took it. He threw a

fist into the soldier's face with as much force

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as he could muster and leapt into the air, but

Noah was too quick. His clawed fingers

snapped shut around Ilgrin's leg and spun

him back toward the earth. He hit the

ground with such force that the wind was

knocked out of him.

'Chain him to the tree,' Noah ordered

with a dismissive wave.

'What do you want with me?' Ilgrin

shouted as he was forced up against the

tree. 'Haven't you taken enough?'

'Leave us,' Noah ordered his men once

Ilgrin was suitably restrained. He came

close and spoke in a lowered voice. 'I know

who you are, Sa'Enoch. I know your

bloodline. In time my people will forget, but

I'll always know and it makes me sick.'

'Then you admit it?' Ilgrin was startled by

Noah's candor. 'You admit that I am the

rightful Devil?'

'I was changed,' Noah replied with a look

of satisfaction, 'but I didn't lose my mind.

The whisp . . . I really should thank you for

it.'

'You have horns.' Ilgrin squirmed away

from Noah's face. 'How can you be happy

like this?'

'They fear me.' Noah narrowed his eyes.

'And they're right to do so. I'm so much

stronger than anyone. I could snap your

neck with my little finger,' he jeered, his foul

breath assaulting Ilgrin's nostrils. 'My new

body makes for a very respectable Devil,

don't you think? I'd hate to have my rule

questioned again, should you ever choose

again to do so. No, it must be neat and tidy.

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I'll have no loose ends. And I'm hungry. You

couldn't imagine it . . . so hungry all the

time.' Noah's eyes locked on Ilgrin's throat

and stringy saliva trickled over his chin.

'Then why haven't you done it yet?'

'Because I'm trapped.' Noah's eyes filled

with rage. 'The Eltari woman,' he murmured

distractedly. 'What is she?' He demanded.

'How did she defend her pathetic little town

against a thousand demons?'

'She's half Elglair,' Ilgrin offered, knowing

well that such an explanation offered no real

answer to the question.

'Do you take me for a fool?' Noah

rumbled. 'I've known Elglair men and

women my entire life. Not one of them could

have stood against a thousand silts. No . . .

she is something different. She is something

more and she must have a weakness. You

will tell it to me.'

'I wouldn't tell you if She did.' Ilgrin held

himself as proudly as one could when

chained to a tree. 'But I can reveal in all

honesty that I don't believe She has one.

She is the Holy Spirit.'

'Bah,' Noah pushed himself back from the

tree and shook his head. 'Open up your eyes.

Maker is done with this place. If He ever

existed, He abandoned us long ago. Don't

you see, your friend cannot be the Spirit of

Maker. I refuse to believe it. There must be

some way to destroy her.'

'I couldn't help you if I were willing,'

Ilgrin said in frustration. 'She has never

displayed any weakness to me.'

'Are you quite sure?' Noah growled, once

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again coming very close. 'Because I'm going

to start hurting you. I'm going to wound you

in increasingly horrible ways. Perhaps doing

so will freshen your memory. Sooner or later,

you will die, and then I'll eat the meat off

your bones, rendering you far too dead to

resurrect.' Noah paused for a moment,

allowing the thought to sink in. 'Or you

could make this so much easier on yourself.

See?' He removed his pistol and put it

against Ilgrin's head. 'Tell me her weakness

and I will allow you a peaceful death. I've

been told it's like going to sleep, only

quicker.'

'I don't know what to tell you.'

'That is a shame.' Noah sighed. 'But I am

so very hungry.' He leaned in to take a bite.

The people of Elmsville scattered and

disappeared as El-i-miir and the others

hurried across town and into the outskirts of

Narvon Wood. 'There's an overgrown

farmhouse a little way south of here,' Teah

babbled, her expression one near to panic.

'You should wait for me there.' She turned to

El-i-miir and Jakob. 'I'll fly ahead to make

sure he's okay. By the time you get there, I'll

be on my way back.'

'No way,' El-i-miir snapped. 'You can't

expect me to sit around while Ilgrin is in

danger.'

'She's right.' Jakob frowned. 'We should

stick together.'

'I won't take long.' Teah ran her hands

through her hair and paced anxiously.

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'You're too slow. Where is he?' She grasped

Jakob's shoulders and shook him. 'Tell me

where he is.'

'There's a small cliff deeper into the

woods,' Jakob replied nervously. 'That's

where I was supposed to take him.'

'I'm going.' Teah spun around, but El-i-

miir grabbed her arm.

'Wait,' she cried. 'I can't stop you, but

please, I'm begging you not to do anything

stupid. Come back for us and we'll go for

him together.'

Teah wrung her hands. 'The overgrown

house is--'

'I know where it is,' El-i-miir murmured,

the unstable structure holding an all too

familiar place in her memories.

'I'll come back.' Teah spread her wings.

'Believe it or not, I want this to go as well as

you do.' Without waiting for a reply, Teah

vanished through the canopy and

disappeared from view.

'Come on,' El-i-miir mumbled, picking her

way forward through the woods. Some time

later, she and Jakob arrived at the

dilapidated old house where she and Far-a-

mael had originally held Seteal captive.

'I wonder what happened here,' Jakob

mused, examining the gaping hole in the

side of the house where they'd first met

Seeol.

'You don't want to know,' El-i-miir

whispered as she entered the house. The

place was an even greater mess than it'd

been when she'd last seen it. Half of the

ceiling had caved in and plants had broken

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Cael McIntosh

through every crevice or window. 'Get some

rest while you can,' she advised the

Sa'Tanist. 'I doubt Teah will be much

longer.'

'What about you?' Jakob asked as he sat

on a rickety old chair near the broken table.

'Don't be silly,' El-i-miir reprimanded him.

'How could I possibly?'

'You really love him, don't you?' Jakob

raised his eyebrows.

'I don't need to explain myself to you,' El-

i-miir replied, pacing about the room.

'I suppose we're not so different.' Jakob

sat back, stretching his legs.

'Don't fool yourself,' El-i-miir replied

curtly. 'You obey them like a dog.'

'You're chasing after your demon with the

dedication of a dog.'

'You're a coward. You obey out of fear,' El-

i-miir sneered. 'Ilgrin would never ask this

of me. I'm doing it because I love him.'

'I wonder . . . does he feel the same way?'

Jakob leaned forward attentively but El-i-

miir remained silent, confused as to how she

should answer the question. 'Of course, it'll

never work out. You must see that.'

'Are you trying to get me to slap you?' El-

i-miir stared at him irritably.

'Not at all,' Jakob replied. 'Yours is just

not a relationship one often comes upon.'

'I can't stand to be in here,' El-i-miir

grumbled, turning to leave. 'I'm going for a

walk.'

'I'll come,' Jakob stood.

'No, you won't,' El-i-miir replied, but soon

found Jakob following anyway. 'What is

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that?' She winced after they'd been walking

a while. The air surrounding them seemed to

be putting more pressure on her than usual.

'What is what?' Jakob replied as they

trampled deeper into the woods.

'Are you being funny?'

'Not at all.' Jakob stared at her as though

she were crazy.

'How strange,' El-i-miir muttered as she

examined the trees' auras to find them

slanting away into the woods, even though

the trees themselves leaned back toward

Jakob and her. The colours twisted and

flickered as though they were being drained.

'Come on.'

'I don't like this,' Jakob said softly. 'Are

you sensing something?'

'I think so.' El-i-miir gazed in wonder as

they continued on, the trees coming to lean

increasingly northward as though they were

trying to escape something. 'We'll have to go

back soon.' She sighed dejectedly. 'I have a

terrible headache.'

'You're not the only one,' Jakob said,

rubbing his temples. 'It's so quiet. Have you

noticed?' There were no birds chirping and

not a breeze could be felt.

'We should go back.' Jakob swallowed

nervously, the complete silence allowing El-i-

miir to hear him do so. Even the crunching

of the leaf litter beneath their feet had

somehow become muted.

El-i-miir ignored him, having spotted a

clearing up ahead. She wove through the

remaining trees and stepped out into the

open. Her headache got worse, but she took

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another step toward a black shadow at the

centre of the clearing. It took a moment, but

then El-i-miir realised that it was a tree.

'Is that a tree?' Jakob asked, his voice

strained.

'I've never seen anything like it,' El-i-miir

whispered. So dark was the tree that it

sucked up the surrounding light. The

temperature became chilling and the Ways

felt as though they were mourning

something terrible. El-i-miir had never come

across a place so entirely radiating with

misery. She reached out and pulled off a

freezing cold black leaf which immediately

dissolved like ash between her fingers.

'Let's go,' El-i-miir backed away, but

Jakob had already left the clearing.

The pair hurried toward the overgrown

farmhouse and as they did the pressure

lifted, the darkness becoming less. The

sorrow fled their hearts and the ache their

heads.

'Where were you,' Teah demanded,

jumping down from a tree.

'Oh, no.' El-i-miir clapped a hand over her

mouth. 'You're back already. We're wasting

time.'

'What were you doing in the woods?' Teah

said irritably. 'I've been waiting here for

over an hour.'

'An hour?' Jakob shook his head. 'That

can't be right . . . oh, wait.' A look of

confusion crossed his features. 'How long

did we stand by that tree?'

The words sent chills down El-i-miir's

spine. Her memory of the event was dull,

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but she might've been standing there for a

very long time. 'Did you find him?' She

turned to Teah, desiring to forget the

horrible experience.

'He's where Jakob said he'd be,' Teah

replied, turning to lead the way. 'He's alive.

I wanted to free him but there were too

many soldiers. I wouldn't have been strong

enough. We're going to need your

affiliation.'

'How is he?' El-i-miir asked, fearful of the

answer. 'Teah? How is he?' She repeated

when the woman failed to respond.

'We should hurry,' was the only answer

she gave.

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

### REFUGE

The fabric of this particular dress had

somehow managed to maintain the fresh

white colour of a perfectly new garment.

Seteal couldn't say how. It wasn't

particularly new, but it was one of her

favourites. She slid into the comfortable,

modest garment. It was a flowing, dignified

dress that stayed true to her class, without

airs or graces. She didn't want to look the

fool. Some considered the lack of sleeves a

little immodest, but Seteal wrote those

people off as prudish.

Never having been one to wear much

makeup, Seteal straightened her dress and

headed downstairs. She fixed herself a glass

of water in the kitchen and cast a look of

concern at the sky. The clouds were heavier

than usual. Seteal had heard of whisp rain

and doubted very much that she'd like it.

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She wiped her hand on a cloth and slid into

her best shoes before making her way

across town.

Elmsville didn't have a church or town

hall. It was two small to have one of each.

Instead, the two were merged into a single

building with a small steeple and bell. Seteal

allowed for such distracting thoughts as

they served a purpose in keeping her from

dwelling on the task at hand.

The bell had been rung shortly after El-i-

miir and the others left. It indicated an

emergency meeting. Most of the town would

be there. They'd probably decided to

evacuate for themselves, but Seteal had to

be certain. She pushed open the door and

made her way inside. The mayor stopped

speaking and the congregation turned to

stare. So complete was the silence, that

Seteal could hear the clock ticking against

the wall.

'I don't mean to intrude,' Seteal said

apologetically. She took in the stunned

expressions surrounding her and suddenly

felt uncertain as to how she should proceed.

'I wanted to warn you . . . to suggest that

you all leave Elmsville. More silts will come.

It's no longer safe here.' The silence

continued to the point of awkwardness. 'I'll

have to leave, too.' Seteal fidgeted.

The mayor finally spoke up from his place

at the podium. 'Half of our homes have been

burned to the ground or otherwise

destroyed. Look around you, Miss Eltari.'

As if his words had lifted a blindfold,

Seteal looked about to find piles of blankets

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and personal possessions lining the walls

beside uncomfortable-looking cots. There

hadn't been a meeting in session. The town

hall had been converted into a refuge for the

homeless and the injured. 'There must be

somewhere you can go,' Seteal stepped

forward, but stopped when people squirmed

in fear. 'They won't stop until we're dead.'

'We don't need you to tell us that,' the

mayor replied, making his way down the

aisle. 'We'll be packed up and gone by

tomorrow.'

'Where will you go?'

'You needn't concern yourself with that,'

the mayor said softly, his eyes piercing into

Seteal's.

'But of course I . . .' She began to reply

before trailing off at the realisation of his

meaning. They didn't want her to know.

They didn't trust her. 'Of course.' Seteal

nodded. 'Well, please hurry. I'm afraid you

have less time than you think.'

'Well, thank you for your concern, Miss

Eltari,' the mayor replied without a glimmer

of thanks in his voice. He raised his hand,

indicating that she should leave.

'If there's anything I can do to help, you

know where to find me,' Seteal said as he

ushered her out.

'You've done quite enough,' the mayor

replied shortly. Seteal turned around to

reply, but the door came to a close a

handswidth from her nose. She stepped

back, removed her white gloves and threw

them in the dirt, grimacing at the black

cracks crisscrossing her arms.

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On the way home, Seteal found herself

looking at the sky more often than where

she was putting her feet. She felt like there

was some urgency in finding Seeol--or

perhaps she just missed him--but she

supposed he could wait one more day.

Shirking her responsibilities to the people of

Elmsville in their darkest hour would just be

wrong.

*

Seeol had been awake most of the night,

finding it terribly difficult to sleep at such a

time. He couldn't sleep during the day, as

the bright sun and horse's trotting made

doing so impossible. The men ate breakfast

and Marin forced a chunk of cooked meat

through the bars. Seeol hated cooked meat

but chewed on it nevertheless.

The feathers covering the floor were not

enough to disguise the growing pile of

excrement and pellets beneath Seeol's

perch. He'd caught his reflection the day

before. There were feathers missing across

his body, the most striking being a bald

patch on the left side of his head. For Seeol,

losing his plumage was mortifying, perhaps

even more so than losing of his toes.

Marin rolled up his bedding and packed it

atop his horse. He hooked up Seeol's cage

and clambered onto his mount. The animal

snorted and stomped its foot, sparing an

irritable eye for Seeol. 'Wait,' Phil called,

dismounting and hurrying over. 'Wait just a

minute.' He snatched at Marin's reins and

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stared at the bird cage. Seeol watched as his

eyes slid over the leather strap woven

between the bars, a cruel smile working its

way across his features. 'Did you think I

wouldn't notice?'

'What isn't you noticed?' Seeol tilted his

head, hoping that playing dumb might

distract the man from what he'd discovered.

'This,' Phil snatched at the leather strap

and rubbed his thumb back and forth over

the badly frayed surface. 'You should've

noticed.' He slapped Marin on the back a

little too aggressively for it to have been in

fun.

'Is not Marin's fault,' Seeol croaked. 'He's

just a silly man.'

'Excuse me?' Marin grumbled.

'Never mind,' Phil snarled. 'It's easily

fixed.' He turned toward his horse, perhaps

to find some stronger cord.

Seeol leapt upside-down and clung to the

bars while rapidly biting at the remainder of

the strap. 'Hey,' Marin warned. 'Stop that,'

he ordered, slapping at the cage, which only

served in putting more pressure against the

leather.

The strap snapped and the cage fell. Phil

shouted something as the cage hit the earth

and Seeol was thrown about within. The

rusted door broke where it was hinged and

Seeol dove for freedom. Marin leapt off his

horse and accidentally landed on Phil who'd

been hurrying to the scene. Seeol squeezed

his head through the opening and scrabbled

against the bars with his foot. He exhaled in

an attempt to shrink himself. He flapped his

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wings and pushed and finally his keel bone

popped through.

A giant hand slammed against the door

but Seeol was ready and with a victorious

cry he bit hard at the pink flesh. Phil

snatched back his hand and with it came

Seeol. He threw open his wings and

launched into the air. Phil flailed his arms

and clipped Seeol's wing. He dipped out of

control and hit the dirt. Phil thrust out his

boot in an attempt to crush Seeol, who

rapidly fluttered his wings. But it was too

late. When Seeol was but a handswidth from

the ground Phil kicked out and the blow so

stunned him that he toppled onto his back

and stayed fixed in place, the sun burning

into his eyes.

A hand wrapped around Seeol so tight

that he couldn't breathe. A moment later

he'd been lifted up to Phil's red sweating

face. 'I could snap your neck,' he said in a

spray of saliva delivered through gritted

teeth. 'Oh I'd love it,' he snarled, taking a

hold of Seeol's head between his finger and

thumb. He pulled back so hard that Seeol

feared his neck would indeed break.

'Don't kills me,' Seeol shrieked at last.

'Please! Is sorry!' Phil released his head

with a dissatisfied grunt. 'Is sorry, Seteal,'

he said too softly to be heard.

'The satisfaction of killing you,' Phil said a

handswidth from Seeol's face, 'is so close to

being worth missing out on the king's

reward. You're fortunate that my family

need a roof over their heads.'

'You is such a horrible man,' Seeol wailed

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Cael McIntosh

emotionally.

'Well,' Phil shrugged, 'at least I am a man.

You're just a miserable, whisp-mutated bird.

What've you got? Who cares about you?' Phil

thrust out his hand at a rather stunned-

looking Marin. 'Put it back in the cage and

make sure you fix the damn door.'

Marin obeyed, all the while keeping a

concerned eye on Phil as he made his way

back to his horse to get a new strap. He put

him inside the cage and bent the door into

place. Seeol huddled down on the cleanest

available part of the floor and puffed out the

feathers he had left. Phil double strapped

the cage into place. Seeol's whole body

ached, his heart not the least.

'Seteal cares,' he comforted himself,

rubbing his beak back and forth on the tray

in reflection of the affectionate gesture he'd

often shown his friend. 'She'll come. Seteal

will come for me.'

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

### AS ALL OF US

Murky grey had faded to dismal black. Night

had fallen in Narvon Wood. The trees

became increasingly tightly packed as the

group of three wove tiredly onward. It was

as though the trees were huddling together

for support, their tops never far from each

other with their branches intertwined.

El-i-miir was worried about Ilgrin. Even if

he didn't feel the same way anymore, to

deny her feelings toward the demon was

impossible. She rested her hand against a

tree and came to a complete stop. Tendrils

of light wove through the forest vibrating a

warning for the Elgair eye to interpret.

After getting Teah's attention by tapping

her on the shoulder, El-i-miir put a finger to

her lips and pointed through the trees where

a number of demons were sleeping in the

branches. Teah nodded and passed on the

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Cael McIntosh

message to Jakob before continuing on with

greater caution. El-i-miir embraced the

Ways, pulling them into herself in

preparation of their use.

During the twenty or so minutes that

followed, El-i-miir remained silent but

became increasingly uneasy. The sky was

too dark, even for night beneath the

otherworldly cloud. She was beginning to

fear that a storm was brewing. 'It's around

here,' Teah whispered, leading El-i-miir by

hand.

The remainder of the journey was

exhausting and almost entirely uphill.

Several times the slope became such that El-

i-miir had to use her hands on the rocks for

fear of falling. Occasionally the climb

became such that no human could overcome

it and Teah had to fly each of them up

individually. When the slope levelled out

somewhat, El-i-miir found herself feeling

grateful that it was so dark. If she were able

to make out the distance they'd climbed she

felt certain she'd be terrified.

'Oh,' El-i-miir murmured when a strand as

subtle as a familiar scent penetrated her

aura. 'He's close. He's alive.' She exhaled on

a shuddering breath, not previously having

realised just how much she'd been fearing

the alternative. 'This way.'

'Slow.' Teah put out her hand to stop El-i-

miir. 'We don't know how many we're up

against.'

'We have to use what we've got,' Jakob

intoned. 'I mean . . . tactically speaking, the

element of surprise is all we've got.'

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'That doesn't mean we should rush in

without a plan,' Teah replied curtly. 'When I

was here earlier, Noah was interrogating

Ilgrin. I should warn you, he's been hurt

pretty badly. I don't suspect he'll be of much

use to us once freed.'

'He needs to be healed then,' El-i-miir

replied, recognising where Teah was taking

the discussion. 'He's that bad?'

'I'm afraid so,' Teah said softly. 'And I've

seen you do it before.'

'Of course,' El-i-miir replied.

'Yes, but I'm afraid it's a little more

complicated than that,' the angel continued.

'I counted at least a dozen legion soldiers

and then there's Noah.'

'I can do it,' El-i-miir said with more

certainty than she felt. 'If you take care of

Noah, I'll affiliate the others.'

'I'll free Ilgrin,' Jakob added. 'You two will

be plenty occupied with everything else. Let

me release him. I owe him that much,' he

finished, cradling his arm protectively.

'Let's go then,' Teah replied.

'If you betray us,' El-i-miir jabbed a finger

into Jakob's chest, 'I swear to Maker I'll

affiliate you into leaping to your death.'

The three felt their way through the trees

until their surroundings began to lighten

and the crackling of a fire revealed how

close they were to camp. The woods came to

an abrupt end, beyond which was a clearing.

A strip of pale white within the dark on the

opposite side of the clearing set El-i-miir's

heart racing. Ilgrin's aura swam weakly in

and out of existence around a limp body

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Cael McIntosh

chained to a tree.

'Is that . . . ?' Teah enquired by El-i-miir's

ear.

'It's him,' El-i-miir replied. 'Look over

there,' she pointed to their left where

Noah's gigantic grey mass slept hunched

beneath a tree.

'Could I have some water?' Ilgrin's tired

voice floated over to El-i-miir's ears and

almost rendered her unfit to move. It was

the same plea he'd once made of her as an

Elglair captive. He didn't deserve to suffer

that way twice . . . or at all.

'Be quiet,' one of the two demons

guarding him warned. 'Don't wake him up,

whatever you do.'

'We should circle around,' Jakob

whispered. 'There's no way we'll make it

otherwise.'

'You're right,' Teah replied.

As they snuck around the camp, El-i-miir

became increasingly aware of the large

number of silts sleeping above them. If one

of them should wake up, there would be no

hope. She stumbled and snatched at Jakob's

collar to yank him back just as he'd been

about to step over the edge of the cliff.

'Look,' she whispered, crouching down and

waving her hand threw thin air. 'It's the

edge.'

'Each of you take my hands,' Teah offered.

El-i-miir was grateful to take advantage of

the opportunity. Teah used her elongated

toes to feel their way along the edge and

back to the relative safety of the trees.

'Where's Noah?' The angel whispered,

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stopping abruptly. It was a question that

froze El-i-miir in her tracks. The mutant had

no aura and she was as ignorant to his

actions as anyone else. There was a loud

thud and a flash of movement as Noah leapt

toward them, roaring with extended wings.

Jakob threw up his pistol and a blast rang

out.

'Get down!' Teah shouted, pushing the

others to the ground before they'd had the

chance to do so of their own accord.

El-i-miir hit the dirt and rolled over in

time to see Noah slam into Teah and watch

as the pair sailed over the precipice.

'Torrid,' she gasped as the trees came to life

with the beating of too many wings. 'Ilgrin,'

El-i-miir cried, racing over to his sagging

body. 'Oh, Ilgrin.'

She wept at the sight of a body bruised

blue, covered in lacerations and horrific bite

marks. 'Go,' El-i-miir snapped at the

guarding silts, having affiliated them

instantly. 'How do I get these off,' El-i-miir

cried in frustration, yanking at Ilgrin's

chains.

'El-i-miir,' Jakob said as he approached,

again cocking his pistol. 'Leave this to me.'

He put the barrel against the chains and

pulled the trigger.

El-i-miir spun away as bark sprayed into

the air and the chains fell to the ground. She

heard Ilgrin topple forward and Jakob doing

everything he could to soften the blow, but

she could no longer help Ilgrin. If she

wanted him to survive, he could not be her

priority. The silts drew their scythes and

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Cael McIntosh

removed their pistols from holsters as they

closed in from every direction. Teah's

estimate of only a dozen had been terribly

incorrect.

While attempting to maintain her cool, El-

i-miir spun in a slow circle establishing an

affiliated link with as many demons as she

dared. 'There are so many of us,' she

whispered through fifteen mouths. Fifteen

people put a hand to their stomachs, feeling

nauseated as El-i-miir's consciousness

continued to divide. Several unaffiliated silts

landed before El-i-miir and one of them

slapped a hand around her throat. A moment

later, he released the human woman's neck

and stepped away. She flared her wings and

howled in dizzy frustration. Another demon

dove toward her and the masses of affiliated

ones threw out their hands in protest, crying

as one, 'Just stop!'

'El-i-miir?' Jakob called. She heard his

voice from across the clearing and from

right behind her. He was beneath her as she

flew and to her left and right. Some twenty

heads turned toward the man from twenty

different locations to perceive him in twenty

different ways. Everyone put their hands to

the sides of their heads and stumbled in

harmony with El-i-miir. She rested a hand on

Jakob's shoulder, but the man retreated in

fear. She looked at her hand to find that it

lacked fingernails. It wasn't her hand. It was

a demon's.

'He's dying,' Jakob persisted, turning to

El-i-miir. The woman's eyes were glazed

over and she fidgeted with uncertainty, just

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another of the bodies between which her

consciousness was divided.

'I can't,' El-i-miir said through twenty-

something mouths as the strands continued

to spread. 'Which one am I?' They uttered in

frustration. 'We are all of us.'

Teah hit the ground, flipped over, and

rolled several times before smashing into a

tree and coming to a stop facedown. Noah

landed heavily behind her, snatched at the

woman's leg, and spun her around before

releasing her to sail back over the edge.

'What is wrong with you all?' Noah

thundered at his legion of soldiers frozen in

place, a few of them watching him while

most of them focused on Ilgrin as his eyes

began to close.

'I have to save him,' the legion soldiers

wailed in unison. 'Help him,' El-i-miir heard

her true voice screaming from somewhere in

the clearing. 'Do something,' she cried

above the din of droning voices. Some

demons fell sobbing, others wailed their

dismay toward a Maker El-i-miir didn't

believe in. And still others began to twitch

about, wondering if they really were this

human woman, after all. 'Heal him,' she

howled into her countless ears and with an

explosive surge through every line they all

reacted at once.

El-i-miir felt her many legs charging

across the earth. 'We must help him,' they

all cried together. 'We have to fix him.

Ilgrin,' the many El-i-miirs gasped. 'I love

you.' Jakob's eyes widened and he leapt

back from Ilgrin's body as he was swamped

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with silts, all fighting to offer their

assistance. 'Don't you die on me,' the mass

pleaded, each reaching for Ilgrin. One

twisted his head one way, another pulled at

his body. A third threw himself around

Ilgrin's legs and held on tight murmuring, 'I

love you,' over and over again. A fourth

snatched up Ilgrin's wing and tried to drag

him free of the others. He had to save Ilgrin!

He loved him.

'What is this?' Noah shouted, waving his

arm through the legion soldiers with such

force that many sprayed into the air. El-i-

miir cried out as she flew in countless

directions and felt the pain of countless

blows.

'I have to save him,' shrieked the

possessed. El-i-miir flared her wings and

landed on Noah's shoulders, reaching down

to stab him repeatedly. She put too many

hands on Ilgrin's body and pushed against

him. 'Come back,' they cried, their hands

itching.

Noah tore El-i-miir from his face and

broke her wing before tossing him over the

edge of the cliff. She felt herself die. She

pushed through, but Noah found her and

broke her neck. She hit the earth to die yet

again.

'No, no, no,' she sobbed, finding a place

for human hands atop a chest covered in

long demon fingers. 'I can still fix this,' El-i-

miir sobbed, putting a hand on Ilgrin's

cheek, just for a moment remembering who

she was before Noah killed her again. El-i-

miir howled as her wing was torn and her

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ankle was broken. She tried to limp to safety

but Noah cut open her neck and El-i-miir

died again.

Jakob leapt away from the horde of

demons writhing atop Ilgrin and walked

toward Noah firing his pistol at the

monster's chest. Chunks of grey flesh

blasted away in a spray of blackish blue

blood. The monster moaned and then roared

his fury as he turned to face his old

Sa'Tanist, but before he could do anything,

Teah landed in front of him and threw out

her arms.

Noah stumbled back, his body quivering.

He fell to the ground flailing, but stopped

abruptly and stood to laugh. The sieift

churned free of Noah's flesh as he snarled

victoriously. Teah frowned, keeping her

hands extended so that the white mist

continued to flow. Noah didn't seem to care.

Several silts turned to face him in reflection

of El-i-miir's surprise. 'You're no match for

me.' He backhanded the angel across the

face. She flipped through the air and

skidded across the dirt.

'Please come back,' El-i-miir turned all of

her various attentions to Ilgrin. She pushed

every spare hand she had against him and

closed her eyes, rejoicing as they burned.

'You're coming back to me,' the silts

whispered.

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

### THE PRICE OF LIFE

An explosion by his ear left it ringing.

Without the chains for support, Ilgrin's body

fell to the ground. A mass of people

smothered him as his consciousness faded.

The legion soldiers cried out messages of

love even as they pulled painfully at his

limbs and pressed so hard against him that

he couldn't breathe.

Forcing his eyes open, Ilgrin found

himself staring up into a familiar face. El-i-

miir squirmed for her place among the

masses of demons. Her face reflected the

sorrow of everyone around her as they

pushed and fought to get closer. El-i-miir

was tiny among the creatures and frequently

got pushed or elbowed aside, but she

somehow always managed to struggle back

to the front.

If Ilgrin hadn't been so delirious on his

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deathbed he might've found time to wonder

at the peculiarity of the scene before him.

Instead he closed his eyes.

'I love you, son.' Urelie touched his hot

cheek and dabbed a cold towel against

eight-year-old Ilgrin's forehead. 'You'll be

okay.' She tapped the end of his nose.

'You're a strong boy and you'll be an even

stronger man. And do you know how I know

that?'

'How?' Ilgrin scrunched up his face in

confusion.

'Because you're a good boy.' Urelie kissed

his forehead. 'You're not like them. You're

perfect.' She smiled adoringly, while behind

her eyes lingered apprehension and fear.

'I'm a good boy,' Ilgrin murmured as the

hands pressed down on him. He coughed

once. He choked and coughed. His eyes

opened. The demons pulled away and Ilgrin

felt his veins beginning to burn. The whisp

lurched about inside of him, seeking

duteously to escape its cocoon. It wriggled

about in confusion, small portions of it

having come from dozens of separate tiny

acts.

'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir whispered alone, her

eyes wide and vacant. 'I can't hold them any

longer.' Her words were pinched. She

narrowed her eyes at him. 'Who are you?'

Her mouth opened in disbelief. 'Sa'Enoch!

He's here,' she cried. 'He's over here.' She

spun around in a sharp circle. 'Where are

my wings?'

'El-i-miir,' Ilgrin said raggedly. He pushed

to his feet and took her hand. 'Snap out of

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this,' he managed before doubling over to

choke and gag as the whisp came out of him,

dozens of separate little puffs.

'What happened to your wings?' El-i-miir

laughed. 'What about mine. Oh, my Maker,'

she giggled. 'I'm a human girl. You two stop

that. I'm a girl, too.'

'El-i-miir,' Ilgrin coughed, black mist

seeping out of his mouth and nostrils.

'Focus,' he shook her by the shoulders.

'You're El-i-miir.'

'We are?' El-i-miir enquired softly. The

murmur was repeated by the affiliated.

'Oh, Maker,' Ilgrin fell to his knees and

burped loudly, the whisps no longer

peaceable in their evacuation. The mist

puffed out of Ilgrin's mouth, hit the ground,

and rebounded into the air. He coughed

several times as the final whisps abandoned

him and the black patches drifted together

to sit above them as an ominous cloud.

'We are silts,' El-i-miir said in

astonishment. 'We're not a human girl. I'm

so confused.' She and the others laughed.

'We're so happy you're okay though,' they all

said with beaming smiles. 'We love you.'

Ilgrin's attention snapped across the

clearing at the sound of Teah's scream.

Noah was almost obscured by an endless

sieift flowing from his body. His foot was

pressed up against Teah's back as he pulled

on her wings. The joint in her right wing

popped and the woman flushed blue in

agony. 'Teah!' Ilgrin cried, hurrying over.

'No,' the legion soldiers howled furiously,

as they stepped in to block the way. 'You

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don't love her!' they shouted as one.

'El-i-miir.' Ilgrin spun around in search of

her. 'Don't do this. He's going to kill her.'

'Why should I care?' the legion soldiers

asked. 'We hate angels. In Hades we hunt

them for sport.'

'You're confused,' Ilgrin cried, pushing up

against the soldiers. 'Get out of my way,' he

demanded, punching one of them in the

face.

'Ouch.' The silt a bruised cheek and

looked at Ilgrin with hurt in his eyes. 'You

hit me. I never thought you would hit me.'

Noah fell to his knees, his wings

drooping. Teah's attack had started to wear

him down. 'Ilgrin,' she cried out for help as

the monster started to fall.

'Let me through!' Ilgrin shouted as he

fought against the masses. He tried to fly,

but they only beat him down again.

'Fine!' The soldiers parted abruptly. 'Be

with her. We don't need you. We'll fly home

alone.'

'Teah.' Ilgrin burst passed the silts as

Noah fell, his weight pinning the angel to

the earth. 'I've got you,' he grunted. He

grabbed Teah beneath the arms, but was

unable to make her budge.

'Ilgrin,' she whispered hoarsely.

'Don't give up.' He kicked at Noah in

frustration. 'I've got you.'

'Ilgrin,' Teah wheezed as she stretched

out a hand. 'El-i-miir.' She pointed shakily.

Ilgrin turned toward the precipice where

the legion soldiers were taking off one by

one. El-i-miir stood on the edge with arms

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outstretched. 'We can fly,' she whispered,

taking a step forward and vanishing in a

second.

'El-i-miir!' Ilgrin leapt to his feet and ran

for the edge.

'Stop,' Noah rumbled. His voice was tired,

but he was alive. Ilgrin halted at the edge

and turned back. The mutant had a silver

blade pressed against Teah's throat. 'Don't

move.'

Precious seconds were wasted. Ilgrin

stared into Teah's eyes. He wanted to

apologise for what he was about to do. But

her eyes pleaded too much and he was out

of time. Ilgrin spread his wings and dove.

'Ilg--' Teah's cry was cut off as her throat

was sliced open.

Still wrapped in affiliation, upward of

twenty silts fell toward the earth. She

must've suddenly realised that she couldn't

fly and as a result, neither could anyone

else. Not one of them beat their wings. They

simply howled, falling through the air in

fear. Ilgrin folded his wings tight, making

himself as streamlined as possible. If he

couldn't find El-i-miir, she'd hit the earth

and be killed for good. Such a fall would

render her far too dead to resurrect.

Handswidth by painful handswidth, Ilgrin

overtook the falling silts and found a

wingless figure flailing below. She was

falling too fast and although he couldn't find

it in the dark, Ilgrin was certain the earth

was quickly approaching. He opened his

wings just a fraction, risking the air catching

them and breaking them, so that he could

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propel himself to faster speeds. He opened

them just slightly, squeezed them shut and

was relieved to find an increase in

propulsion being added to his momentum.

A rocky ledge protruded from the cliff

face below. El-i-miir missed it by a

handswidth. As Ilgrin closed in he was able

to make out hazy patches of trees. He

pushed himself harder, all the while knowing

that there would be no escaping hitting the

earth and hitting it hard. He'd built up too

much momentum and they were far too

close.

Ilgrin thrust out his toes and snapped

them shut around El-i-miir's leg and arm,

before slowly opening his wings. If he did so

too fast, he'd break them; too slow and

they'd both wind up too dead. He

transferred the woman to his arms,

spreading his wings a little farther, slowing

their descent not nearly enough. 'El-i-miir,'

he cried over the wind, doubtful as to

whether she could hear him.

A legion soldier swooped toward them. He

made a grasp at Ilgrin but his grip failed,

the action only having managed to slow

them down. 'Ilgrin's going to die,' El-i-miir

wailed as the other silts caught up. They

snatched onto him for a moment each before

opening their wings and having them break.

Each time their descent was slowed just a

little. 'I've got you, Ilgrin!' a soldier shouted

by his ear, spreading his wings. The three of

them jolted. El-i-miir cried out in pain and

the soldier was lost to the wind.

'This is going to hurt!' Ilgrin shouted as

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the trees came too close. He spread his

wings. The strain was almost unbearable,

but at least they didn't break. So he pushed

them farther. When Ilgrin had finally gotten

his wings to open completely, they were

whipped back painfully. Slender branches

slapped at his face as he fought for control.

A tree loomed up before them and Ilgrin

manoeuvred sharply, but not in time to avoid

his legs hitting the trunk. Ignoring the pain,

he banked sharply to miss the top of another

tree. A branch leapt out of the darkness and

he dove beneath it. Leaves rained down

around them as he negotiated the canopy.

Beneath it conditions were much worse; the

darkness more complete.

Something was in his mind. Down, came

the penetrating thought. Ilgrin lost his mind

to be regained by another. He dipped his

wings and did as she had told him. El-i-miir

could see the trees' dim auras and knew

when they were flying too close. It took

every bit of faith he had, but Ilgrin gave

himself over, trusting in El-i-miir's vision and

hoping in her skills. She beat his wings and

they twisted sideways as the ground flew up.

'It's too fast,' El-i-miir cried out, releasing

control back to Ilgrin.

'Hold on!' he shouted, wrapping his arms

and wings around her to offer as much

protection as possible.

Ilgrin's feet hit the earth first, only to be

whipped out from under him. He was flipped

upside down. He squeezed El-i-miir tight,

determined to lessen the deathly blows to

her fragile human body. Ilgrin landed on his

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back, but somehow managed to keep his

grip, encompassing El-i-miir as they tumbled

head over heels through the leaf litter.

Ilgrin's elbow cracked against something

hard and sharp. He lost his grip and El-i-miir

was flung into the night. He rolled over and

over before coming to a stop when he hit a

tree, unable to believe that he was still alive.

'El-i-miir,' Ilgrin called weakly through the

dark. 'El-i-miir.' He crawled about, searching

for her. 'El-i-miir!' he cried desperately,

ignoring the aches throughout his body.

'I'm here,' she replied with eerie calm.

'Where?' Ilgrin asked, feeling his way

toward her.

'Here.' her voice was weaker than before.

'El-i-miir,' he moaned. 'Please be okay.'

His hand landed in a warm puddle. He

reached out, heart thundering. His hand

landed on a human arm. Her flesh was cold.

He felt along her arm and found her face.

'What happened?' El-i-miir whispered.

'My memory is so . . . fractured.'

'You affiliated everyone,' Ilgrin replied in

a shuddering voice.

'You're safe now though, right?' she

whispered.

'We're both safe.'

'I'm sorry about Teah,' El-i-miir

murmured. 'I know you loved her.'

'What're you saying?' Ilgrin tried to keep

his voice straight as his eyes filled with

tears. There was no response. 'El-i-miir?' He

patted her cheek before feeling down the

length of her body. His hand landed in blood

and then on the surface of a fallen tree

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branch. She'd been impaled. He grasped the

branch, snapped it in half and slid El-i-miir

off and into his arms. 'I'll just raise you

again,' he sobbed. 'Maker what have we

done?' He gazed up into the clouds. He'd

lost count of how many whisps he'd added to

their number.

'I love you,' Ilgrin whispered, squeezing

El-i-miir in his arms. 'It's always been you.'

His cheek against hers grew warm and

started to itch. His hand on her arm

responded in kind. Ilgrin pulled back his

head when her spine fell into place with a

thud. Tears trickled down his cheeks when

she took her first rattling breath and the

wound in her stomach disappeared. He

sobbed bitterly when she called out his

name. He would have her back. His tears

were not for her. He mourned for however

many others he'd chosen to murder in her

place. Loving El-i-miir had come with a hefty

price.

*

'My Devil.' One of the few remaining

soldiers landed before Noah, who panted

tiredly, resting against the rocks. He looked

at the dead angel in disgust. No wonder his

father had tried to wipe the creatures out.

They were far too dangerous. 'Are you all

right?' The demon persisted.

'Not at all,' Noah replied. 'Heal me.

Quickly.

'Of course.' The soldier stepped forward

to place his hands. Moments later the whisp

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wafted away, leaving Noah feeling as healthy

as ever. 'Elmsville must be destroyed,' he

growled, raising to his feet and glowering at

the angel's body in the dirt. 'Send everyone.'

'You're not saying . . .?' The demon soldier

trailed off nervously.

'I don't care if it we have to leave Beldin

and Gor completely defenceless,' Noah said

pointedly. 'You must find every last silt you

can and destroy that town. Kill everything

that breathes.'

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

### INTO HER DARKEST

Cindi stood to the side of the town square

from which point she was better able to

observe the Eltari residence. Through the

dirty window, she watched Seteal's blank

expression, her old friend staring over the

town, a white porcelain statue.

'Cindi.' Mel snatched at her arm. 'Go and

pack your things. We're leaving.'

'Yes, Mother,' Cindi replied obediently,

with a final regretful look back at Seteal's

house. As she made her way home, Cindi did

her best to avoid looking at the demon

corpses strewn across town. She tried hard

not to see their blood. The human bodies

had all been gathered by loved ones for

hasty burials.

As Cindi dragged out a bag she'd packed

days earlier from under her bed, she noticed

a doll squashed up against the wall. On

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hands and knees she strained until she could

reach it and pull it out. It was an ugly thing

with buttons for eyes. They weren't even the

same colour, one being red and the other

being black. It looked as though someone

had punched her in the eye. Its limbs were

attached by nails and its dress was a kitchen

towel.

Cindi had thrown a tantrum on her

seventh birthday after receiving the poorly

constructed doll. She had expected a better

gift from her best friend and hadn't been

even slightly consoled by her mother's

reminders that it was the best Mister Eltari

could do. The man was a carpenter, certainly

not someone familiar with the use of knitting

needles. Seteal had apologised profusely

through a constant flow of tears. Looking

back, Cindi recognised that it was she who

should've been apologising.

It was just one more of the countless

reasons she couldn't believe that Seteal

would do anything to harm Elmsville.

Whatever trouble she'd gotten herself

involved in and whoever she chose to

associate with, Cindi was certain that Seteal

had to be doing it for the right reasons.

Underneath the harsh façade she'd built up

to protect herself, Seteal was a good person.

After finding room for her bag atop the

family carriage and waiting until her father

had gone around the back to gather the

horses, Cindi hurried across the square. She

passed the first row of houses and crept up

to Seteal's with increasing caution.

Something cold landed on Cindi's arm,

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which she stared at in confusion. A bead of

black liquid ran down her wrist and onto her

hand, leaving a grey stain as it went. She

rubbed at the greasy fluid, only to succeed

in smearing it across her skin. She

shuddered as a sudden sting of pure hatred

punched its way into her thoughts. Terrified

by the peculiar sensation, Cindi ran the

remaining distance to Seteal's house and hid

beneath the eaves.

*

The town of Elmsville bustled with

activity as the locals made their final

preparations to leave. Nobody had bothered

to bury or burn the silts she'd killed. That

was how Seteal knew that they were leaving

for good. But for the Eltari residence, by

nightfall the town would be abandoned.

With the people of Elmsville departing,

she would be free to find Seeol. She smiled

at the thought of seeing him again. She had,

in some strange way, missed his company.

Seteal clutched the sink and moaned, her

body shaking uncontrollably. Black cracks

slithered across her skin. She felt like she

was going to burst. She held her breath and

waited for the cracks to recede. The familiar

bumps rolled beneath her flesh as the

energy sought release. She inhaled slowly as

the sensation faded.

After having taken only a few steps across

the room, Seteal stopped abruptly at the

sound of light rain on the window. She

swallowed nervously and turned to frown in

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dismay when she discovered murky black

beads tapping against the glass. Some of

them ignored the physical barrier and chose

to move straight through the glass and onto

the floorboards. Others slid down its length

leaving a dirty smear or a nasty crack.

Seteal backed away. 'Not yet,' she

whispered. 'They were just about to leave!'

she shouted at no one and ran from the

room. She huddled down in the corner of the

living room and covered her ears. Rocking

back and forth, Seteal squeezed her eyes

shut and tried to change the Ways. She tried

to think of something nice, but the Ways

didn't much like getting involved with

whisps. And there wasn't much that was

nice for her to think about anyway.

Memories of Parrowun's tiny fingers

squeezing her thumb had been replaced by

the one of her squeezing his throat. Her

father's loving smiles had been replaced by

his face after half of the contents of his head

had been sprayed across the room. Oddly

and somewhat unexpectedly, the only

comfort Seteal was able to find was in the

idea of locating Seeol.

Beneath the pressure of her hands on her

ears, she was able to hear an awfully close

and decidedly unwelcome tapping sound.

Not surprisingly, the ceiling had decided to

spring a leak, whisp rain being somewhat

impartial to physical barriers. Seteal

watched the black droplets falling one after

the other just a handswidth from her toes.

One of the droplets changed its path of

descent and landed on Seteal's bare foot.

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She rolled her head about her shoulders

uncomfortably before turning again to watch

the droplets fall.

Ilgrin had once described the feeling of

whisp rain. He'd said that it erased

everything and replaced it with an

otherworldly hatred. Seteal remembered

when Far-a-mael had violated her aura and

implanted so much anger that she'd been

unable to feel the underlying pain. She was

invincible, even after having so recently

been raped. She wouldn't have objected to

feeling so strong again.

'Don't be silly,' Seteal reprimanded

herself, but she didn't move her foot. A

second droplet made its way toward her.

'No, don't.' The droplet stoped in mid-air,

hovering, awaiting permission. 'Okay,' she

whispered. 'I'm ready.' The droplet

completed its journey and splashed onto her

foot.

Just a little bit wouldn't hurt. Seteal so

wanted just for a few minutes to be free of

the guilt she felt over Parrowun. Just for a

little while. If she could just clear her mind

of Master Fasil's face or forget what she'd

done to her father, she'd be happy at last.

Not to feel pain for just a few minutes was

all she needed. She'd stay inside and keep to

herself. She wouldn't take in so much as to

hurt anyone.

'Just a few minutes of peace,' Seteal

whispered as the black rain beckoned her to

lean forward. 'You won't hurt me now will

you?' The droplet to have originally landed

on her foot left a grey trail across her flesh.

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'Set me free.'

Reaching out with curiosity, Seteal put

her hand beneath the steadily dripping rain.

They trickled over her skin and in between

her fingers with a repetitive tapping sound

that bought her comfort. She chuckled as

her hand turned grey. She rolled her head

across her shoulders, listening to the little

clicks in her neck.

Seteal Eltari was ordinarily so weak. She

moped about the house, forever a victim.

She found herself standing. Seteal Eltari

was pathetic, forever dwelling on the past

when she could be out seeking vengeance.

She could tear them all to shreds. With a

single thought she could peel the flesh from

their bones. Instead, Seteal Eltari preferred

to slither about in the dark. Seteal Eltari

didn't feel like she had the right to take life.

She was weak with compassion.

Seteal's feet were planted firmly on the

floorboards. She felt every fibre of muscle

within her legs. She felt the Ways surging

back and forth within and without her. She

threw out her arms and tossed back her

head to laugh as the droplets splashed

across her forehead. Free at last, she spun

and danced in circles.

'That's enough,' Seteal gasped, stepping

hastily out of the stream. She'd taken in too

much. What if she hurt someone? 'So what?'

Seteal snarled.

There was a rapid knocking at the door.

Seteal realised that she should ignore it.

'Seteal, it's me,' a familiar voice called. 'It's

Cindi. Please let me in. I'm scared.'

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'You should be scared,' she said softly.

She raised her hand and the door blew open.

'You should come inside,' she said warmly.

'It's dangerous out there.'

'I don't know what's happening.' Cindi

quivered in her vulnerability; a little leaf

ready to fall from a dying tree. 'The rain

started to fall and people started going

crazy out there. I don't know what's gotten

into them. I think I saw Mister Green kill

someone.'

'Oh, no,' Seteal said with mock concern.

'What's that?' she asked, her eyes falling to

an item in Cindi's hands.

'Oh, I brought it over for you,' Cindi

replied, her eyes on the doll's face as she

caressed it.

'I always knew you hated it.' The door

slammed shut and the lock turned with a

click. A second leak had appeared in the

kitchen. 'You've come to rub my face in it

before you leave?'

'No, I . . .' Cindi was taken aback by the

malice in Seteal's voice. 'I wanted you to

have it to remember me. And I guess I

wanted to apologise. Whatever you've been

through . . . I know you. You're a good

person. You were always my best friend, but

lately I've failed to be yours.'

'You have, haven't you?' Seteal flexed her

fingers as small cracks broke out across the

surface of her arms.

'Seeing you mixing with demons was just

so shocking, but it's clear to anybody but

fools that you've been looking after us.'

'Are you finished?' Seteal uttered

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disdainfully, her eyes moving to the stream

of droplets in the kitchen. She found herself

quite unable to resist moving toward the

leak.

'What are you doing?' Cindi gasped as

Seteal placed her hand beneath the stream.

She caught her reflection to discover that

her eyes had become darker than usual, tiny

black fractures having formed around them.

'We've sprung another leak,' Seteal

whispered, returning her attention to Cindi.

'You know what they say; it'll ruin the ceiling

if we don't punch a hole in it.' She smiled

cheekily, beckoning the Ways. Her intention

was that a small puncture point should

appear, but she pushed too hard and a

portion of the ceiling no smaller than a table

caved in around her. Seteal laughed when

one of the rafters hit the ground and the

ceiling sagged.

'What're you doing?' Cindi squealed,

dropping the doll as Seteal stepped into the

rain and spun in a slow circle, swishing her

dress. The remnants of her miseries

vanished and rational thought abandoned

her.

'Whee!' Seteal sang as she spun around

and around, her hair becoming drenched;

rich brunette fading to black. 'Oh,' she

giggled, drunk on the glory of newfound

wickedness. 'I'm turning grey.' She raised

her arms to show Cindi. 'I'm so powerful.'

She came to a stop and dropped her head so

that her hair hung forward and she could

feel the cold spattering her neck. She

moaned softly. 'Oh, yes,' she whispered,

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lifting her head.

'Get out of there,' Cindi cried, snatching

at Seteal's arm and pulling. But Seteal's feet

were glued to the floor and Cindi's strength

was that of a gnat.

The bookshelf flew across the room and

slammed into the girl, before continuing to

crash against the opposite wall where she

was left to crumple. Dark energy radiated

through Seteal's soul as she stepped out of

the rain, black cracks spreading across her

entire body. With a small gesture, she sent

the bookshelf hurtling back across the room.

A second gesture had Cindi drifting through

the air. The woman's face was one of terror.

'You're all so weak.' Seteal narrowed her

eyes. Cindi's veins bulged, her face flushing

red.

'Seteal,' Cindi squirmed. 'I'm your friend.'

'Not a very good one,' she replied

pinching her fingers together. The ways

compressed the air around Cindy and she

yelped as her ribs started to break. The

pressure continued to build as Seteal tilted

her head sideways. Cindi's arms and legs

bled. Her shoulders were crushed together.

The woman stopped screaming when her

scull caved in on itself. Cindi's body hit the

ground.

She'd killed again. She'd killed her son,

too; sweet Parrowun. 'Get out of my head,'

Seteal shrieked, turning an accusatory eye

on the whisp rain. 'You promised,' she

hissed before doubling over and screaming

in agony as the black lines cracked and split.

The Spirit sought release. 'I mustn't,' Seteal

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howled. 'I'm not supposed to! Where are

you, Seeol?' She cried, before suddenly

remembering the bird's absence. 'Do

something,' she pleaded of the Ways. 'Stop

me!' She stood still. The room pulsated

around her. Somewhere deep inside

something kept her from moving, but it

lasted only a second. 'I need more.'

Seteal found herself pulling open the

front door. 'Leave me alone,' she demanded

of her memories. 'Give me more,' she

moaned, hurrying across the landing and

down the steps. She stepped out into the

rain. 'Please don't hurt them,' she whispered

before she became completely lost to

delirium.

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

### MENDACITY

'Wait here,' Ilgrin ordered, pushing El-i-miir

into a shallow cave in the cliff. 'I'm going

back.'

'You'd risk your life for him?' El-i-miir

glowered. 'Why? He's betrayed us countless

times.'

'Jakob helped free me,' Ilgrin defended

his position. 'We can't just abandon him.'

'What about Noah?' El-i-miir clung to

Ilgrin's arm, her tone reflecting her

frustration. 'What if he's still alive?'

'I'm not leaving Jakob up there,' Ilgrin

stated with finality and turned to leave.

'Fine,' El-i-miir said reluctantly, 'but I'm

coming with you.'

'It's too dangerous,' he argued. 'I won't

let you risk your life again.'

'I'm not doing it for you. I'm worried

about Jakob, too,' she brazenly lied.

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'I can't stop you, can I?' Ilgrin shook his

head, both frustrated and attracted to El-i-

miir's determination.

'Nope.' She took his hand. 'I'll possess

you if you try.'

'I'll just have to put up with you then.'

Ilgrin put his arms around her and flew into

the sky.

Before long, they'd reached the clearing

atop the cliff where the campfire still

burned. Teah was sprawled out on the blood-

stained dirt where she'd died. In death, her

eyes still bore the desperate plea for help

that Ilgrin had chosen to ignore.

'Jakob,' he called in a hushed voice.

'Jakob,' El-i-miir joined in, undoubtedly

also utilising her Elglair abilities to help

locate him. 'Ilgrin,' she said softly after

they'd called out a few more times. 'He's not

here.'

'Jakob,' he called out half-heartedly, after

having found himself standing over Teah's

body. 'You didn't deserve this,' he told her,

voice shaking. 'We have to bury her,' he

added more loudly, kneeling to straighten

out the body. 'We need to bury her,' he

insisted, turning to look for a stick or

anything else with which to dig.

'No, we have to go.'

'She deserves better than that,' Ilgrin said

emotionally, astonished by El-i-miir's

heartlessness.

'We have to go.' El-i-miir strode over to

Ilgrin, reaching for his hand.

He pushed her back. 'I'm not leaving her

like this.'

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'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir gasped stretching her

hands out to either side, 'it's beginning to

rain.'

As the words left her lips Ilgrin felt the

first cold droplet land on the back of his

neck. 'Then we'll have to be quick.'

'I'm sorry for what happened to Teah.

Honestly, I am, but there's no time.'

'This is your fault!' Ilgrin shouted

furiously. 'You jumped off the edge. I

could've saved her, but you forced me to

choose. That's all you Elglair do--manipulate

and control anyone foolish enough to stick

around.'

'It wasn't like that.' El-i-miir took a step

back when Ilgrin bunched his hand into a

fist. 'I lost control. I didn't know what I was

doing.'

'She deserved better than this,' Ilgrin

uttered, dropping to his knees to dig

frantically as the drizzle continued.

'Ilgrin,' El-i- miir sneered angrily. 'We're

leaving.'

'No,' he barked, slamming his branch so

hard against the earth that it cracked.

'You're an evil bitch and I want nothing

more to do with you,' he hissed, snapping

his head to the side, his eyes drawn

constantly to Teah's blood. He bent to sniff

it.

A rock hit the side of Ilgrin's head with

such force that he fell over. Warm blood

trickled down his face. He spun toward El-i-

miir in time to see her leap toward him,

Noah's silver-bladed knife in hand. Ilgrin

threw himself back, brought up his legs and

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thrust them out so that she was flung across

the clearing. She picked herself up, dusted

herself off and started back toward Ilgrin

with a limp.

'I'll kill you. I'm stronger than you.'

'You're utterly ignorant.' El-i-miir twisted

her hand.

Ilgrin screamed, his mind filling with

tortured memories, both true and untrue.

He fell to his knees as she picked through

his aura, tormenting and twisting his mind.

Her face appeared behind his eyelids. 'I own

you,' the words echoed for a hundred years.

He'd been there forever. He'd never escape.

But the rain continued to fall and Ilgrin rose

to his feet. El-i-miir's expression became one

of disbelief. She'd not anticipated that the

rain could overpower her possession.

Thrusting out his arm, Ilgrin grabbed a

handful of El-i-miir's hair and lifted her off

the ground. She yelped in pain and wrapped

her hands around his wrist in an attempt to

lessen the pull. 'You're a twig,' Ilgrin smiled

callously. 'I could snap you like one. I

wonder why I've let you live so long,' he

mused, wrapping his freehand around El-i-

miir's neck and then releasing her hair. 'I

should have done this a long time ago.' He

moved over to the edge of the precipice and

held her out as she choked and spluttered.

'I hate you,' she shrieked, trying to claw

Ilgrin's face.

He opened his hand, but as El-i-miir

began to fall she made a wild gesture that

looked as though she were throwing an

invisible object. The air became cold and

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Ilgrin's grip on his mind failed and he fell

into the night. 'I'm falling,' El-i-miir spread

his wings and leapt after herself.

Ilgrin threw his arms around herself. El-i-

miir writhed, spittle flying from her mouth

as she resisted every desire to rip out

Ilgrin's eyes. His mouth twitched and he

moved a finger. 'I can't,' El-i-miir moaned as

she lost control.

With a guttural cry, the demon released

her but with a desperate reach, she

managed to latch onto his ankle. Dodging

and swishing through the air, he did

everything he could to dislodge her, but the

woman held on tight. 'Get off!' He shouted

victoriously, finally kicking her free.

El-i-miir spun through the air. Their eyes

connected and Ilgrin's mind was engulfed,

the connection re-established. El-i-miir

swooped after herself and held her in his

arms even as she slapped at his face. They

screamed in harmony as they fell toward the

earth, fighting and biting and scratching as

Ilgrin's mind switched in and out of her

control.

'I'll kill you,' El-i-miir hissed, wrapping

her hands around his neck.

Ilgrin tried to breathe, but couldn't. Then

he could. Flaring his wings, he stabilised the

flight and took back control. He pushed

against El-i-miir's face until her head was

pressed back, coughing and spluttering in

the rain. He backhanded her and the woman

started to lose her grip. She affiliated Ilgrin

and he yanked her back to safety, but almost

immediately the connection was lost and he

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shook her free. She took him again and he

dove after her.

Although it couldn't be said under whose

control it was accomplished, Ilgrin flared his

wings as they approached the ground and

the two landed clumsily. He thrust out his

fist but at the last moment El-i-miir deviated

his motion so that Ilgrin punched a tree

instead of her. She dove for his throat but

was slapped out of the way.

So entirely focused on his present

situation was Ilgrin, that he failed to notice a

flurry of movement out of the caves they'd

found earlier. Jakob cried out as he brought

down a rock against the side of El-i-miir's

head. The woman gasped and fell to the

earth. Jakob dragged her unconscious body

into the cave, but Ilgrin lurched after him.

'Please.' Jakob's face twitched, spattered

by rain. 'It's not you. It's the rain.' He

released El-i-miir, having gotten her inside.

He held Ilgrin's stare and backed away with

hands raised.

'You betrayed me,' Ilgrin hissed. 'I lost my

legion. I lost my crown!' He thrust his fist

into the side of the cave with such force that

rocks rained down around them. 'I'll enjoy

this.'

'Stop him,' Jakob cried, wrestling a small

sieift from his pocket and tossing it at

Ilgrin's face.

He stumbled as his unreasonable hatred

faded away. He shook his head, confused by

the memories of what'd transpired. 'Where'd

you get that?'

'Oh, thank Maker,' Jakob said in relief,

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resting against the wall of the cave. 'Teah

was making heaps of them up there. Luckily

I managed to convince a bit to come with

me.'

'Have you got one for El-i-miir?' Ilgrin

asked turning to the crumpled figure on the

floor.

'That was all I had,' Jakob frowned.

'Sieifts never did tend to like me very much.'

'El-i-miir,' Ilgrin whispered, gently taking

her shoulder.

'Don't do that.' Jakob slapped his hand

away. 'Not before the grey fades from her

skin.'

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## CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

### INVOLUTION

The town square was filled with people

duelling by fist or sword. Others raced about

like madmen. Those few still unaffected

peeked out from behind curtains in houses

where lanterns had been put out. The clouds

boiled as they rumbled. Purple lightning

stained the air. Seteal shook her heavy wet

hair as purple filled her vision and she was

thrown backward by a string of lightning.

She landed on her feet and squinted through

the black staining her vision. Lightning

created by whisp clouds tended to linger

much longer than that which came naturally.

Seteal reached out to the band of energy but

it wouldn't obey her. She raised her hands to

the sky and gestured sharply toward the

earth. She may not have had authority over

whisp lightning, but that didn't mean she

couldn't create her own.

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Cael McIntosh

Streaks of blinding white struck at

various points around town. Seteal ran

across the square, having spotted Cindi's

mother, Mel, hurrying home. She threw out

her hand as though she were tossing a stone

and an invisible force struck the woman. She

spun around several times before hitting the

ground and failing to get up.

A house was torn from its foundations and

Seteal tossed it through the air so that it

crashed down on the opposite side of

Elmsville. She snatched up another and

another, revelling in the destruction.

Windows exploded and people fell from their

homes. A boy hit the pavement and sprayed

blood. Seteal threw one of the houses so far

that it crashed down somewhere in Narvon

Wood.

With a shout, she sailed into the air to

land before a man who'd been running for

his life. She threw out her hands and blasted

him into the sky. A woman who'd been

hiding in her cellar when the house cracked

away from the earth was torn to shreds with

a single thought. Seteal headed toward the

town hall. She knew where they'd be hiding.

As she approached, she raised her hands.

The doors were torn off their hinges and

blown out into the night. The people inside

cried out and tried to make themselves

scarce in corners. Countless buckets had

been laid out to rather ineffectively catch

the leaks, but for the most part, the ceiling

was holding. Seteal stood in the middle of

the hall with the townsfolk huddling against

the walls around her. She doubled over,

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taking a moment to moan as pain made itself

known throughout her body. She was too

fragile. Her skin was cracking.

With a low moan, Seteal stood upright.

She screamed in frustration. The windows

shattered amidst cries of terror from the

locals. The lanterns blew out and the

building shuddered as it crumbled. Winds of

incredible force struck the building. Seteal

threw up her hands and the ceiling was

blasted hundreds of strides into the air. She

slammed her fist into the ground and the

walls blew out around them.

People tried to run, but Seteal tossed

them about like old rags as she flew into the

air. She moved across town, slaughtering

anyone that caught her attention. The clouds

pulsed toward her. They wanted her. They'd

followed her. Seteal glared at them in

contempt. She was stronger than them.

She murdered again and again, drinking

it in, enjoying the scent of death. But it

wasn't enough. She still felt him, there in

the ground. 'Leave me alone!' A wave of

pure energy burst through the porcelain

cracks forming a shockwave that sped out in

a circular fashion. Anyone or anything that'd

thus far escaped her wrath was destroyed as

the ring of energy and debris spread

throughout Elmsville. People were thrust

into the air, their carriages torn apart, their

bodies incinerated. The remaining houses

crumbled to rubble.

Seteal collapsed in the mud. She felt weak

and opened her eyes to find that the rain

had stopped. She gulped for air. 'I need

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more.' She shivered uncontrollably, the

comforting hatred ebbing and the truth of

what she'd done beginning to dawn on her.

She clung to the hatred even as tears of

remorse came to her eyes. Her killings were

justified. She'd enjoyed it. It'd been right.

'Don't leave me,' she pleaded the sky as the

last drops hit the dirt. 'Don't leave me,' she

shrieked as Parrowun's cold, dead body

called out to her from the grave.

Grey flesh lightened as Seteal stumbled

through the destruction surrounding her.

Dead staring eyes accused her as she passed

by. The town was in ruins. 'Hello?' she called

out, but knew there'd be no response. She'd

killed everyone in Elmsville. She'd done the

silts' job for them.

Seteal stumbled drunkenly toward her

side of town. Remarkably--or perhaps by

unconsciously intention--her house was the

only one still standing. She fell onto the

front steps, tears gushing down her face as

the hollow loneliness of her reality returned

with greater force than before. 'I'm sorry,'

she wept, getting to her feet to stumble

through the front door.

Cindi's eyes stared from within the

sockets of her sunken-in skull. 'What have I

done?' Seteal moaned at the sight of her old

friend. She moved into the next room where

the floor was sagging. 'I'm sorry, Cindi,' she

cried wildly, getting onto her knees. She

leant forward, resting her forehead on the

floorboards. 'I'm so sorry,' she sobbed the

words, but no longer knew to whom they

were directed. Seteal remained in place for

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a very long time, unable to move through

her guilt. The number of lives she'd taken

was innumerable.

Something touched Seteal's arm. She

looked up to find a fly cleaning its limbs. It

hopped off and zigzagged this way and that,

its round red eyes staring at her accusingly.

She sniffled and fell back to lean against the

wall with legs outstretched. A large black

roach scampered across the room, probably

on its way to feed on Cindi's remains.

Seteal's head lolled to the side. She saw a

fine layer of dust and dirt floating up from

the far wall as though it'd been freshly

disturbed. Confused by the anomaly and

grateful for the distraction, Seteal wandered

over and rested her hand on the wall. There

was a sound. She put an ear to the

wallpaper and listened to a peculiar

scratching sound. The wallpaper gained a

million tiny tears. Seteal stepped back in

time to see it. With a shuddering crack the

wall caved in on itself and crumbled to the

earth outside.

'Far-a-mael,' she gaped, too astonished by

his presence to know what else to say. The

old man looked up at her with cold disdain.

He was surrounded by a semicircle of other

wizened gils all of whom were dressed in

formal attire. 'You're alive,' she said.

Far-a-mael's robe squirmed as did his

flesh, then before Seteal's eyes he dissolved

into a swarming mass of fluttering insects.

The moths surged forward, congregated

behind her and then reassembled into Far-a-

mael. 'Yes, I am,' he uttered, pushing her

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Cael McIntosh

with a sharp jab to the back.

Seteal yelped and hit the dirt. The gils

closed in around her. Much to her surprise

one of them was the high elder of the eighth

cleff. 'Gez-reil,' she gasped looking up at him

from her position of vulnerability.

'I'm sorry, my child.' The old man's lips

quivered with regret. Seteal's heart

thundered as she fell back and raised her

hands defensively. She scratched for the

Ways, but the canvas was lost, the energy

within her drained of all power. 'It's done.'

Gez-reil raised his eyes to meet Far-a-mael's

as they reappeared among a throng of flying

insects.

'Excellent,' Far-a-mael whispered as his

moths writhed together, forming his mouth.

'You!' The moths flew toward Seteal,

becoming a hand as they approached. 'I've

waited for this day.' The fully formed Far-a-

mael smiled malevolently, clutching Seteal's

jaw.

'What have you done?' she cried out,

frightened by the empty weakness she felt.

'By the look of this town, I've done what's

going to be the safest thing for everyone.'

Far-a-mael gazed upon the destruction. 'I've

anchored you.'

'Not that,' Seteal blubbered. 'I can't feel

anything.' She'd wished so many times for

Parrowun's absence from her senses, but

now that he was gone it was as though he

didn't exist. Painful though the connection

was, it was all she'd had left of her son. 'Let

me out,' Seteal shrieked, leaping to her feet

and charged toward Far-a-mael.

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The old man laughed as she hit him and

he erupted into a mass of insects that she

stumbled through. She laid her hands flat on

the earth and pushed against the anchor.

She felt the strands as they bulged about

her aura. She pushed harder and for the

barest moment felt the Ways leaning toward

her. 'Hold her,' Far-a-mael barked at the red-

faced, fearful looking gils surrounding

Seteal. 'It's time for you to do what you were

always supposed to do once your usefulness

had run out, and that's to die.'

Far-a-mael dissolved into the air. The

earth below Seteal churned as countless

varieties of insects pulsed up through the

soil and squirmed in between her fingers

and up her arms. 'No,' Seteal gasped,

leaping to her feet. She turned to run, but

Far-a-mael's head and torso partially

reappeared to block her. He punched her in

the stomach before his leg reappeared to

kick her back into the churning mud.

Seteal winced and slapped at a sting in

her arm and then another to the back of her

neck. She slapped at her clothing as insects

made their way into the folds. 'Stop this,'

she begged of Gez-reil. 'Please.' A beetle

flew up her nose and started picking at the

flesh within. Another insect shot into

Seteal's mouth and made its way down her

windpipe. Others burrowed into her ears

and she fell onto her back squirming in pain.

Insects poured up from the earth, their

supply unlimited. They bit into her flesh and

burrowed into her arms and legs. Seteal

screamed as beads of blood appeared all

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Cael McIntosh

over her. She clutched at her chest; the

tissue in her lungs attacked by those that'd

gotten inside. Seteal wheezed and thrust

about in the mud. Her eyes locked on Gez-

reil whose eyes, although refusing to make

contact with hers, were filled with tears.

'Please,' she moaned as something

burrowed beneath her eyelid and bit the

flesh so that it swelled to the point of

impairing her vision.

Gez-reil turned to Seteal and for the first

time he looked her in the eye. He raised his

chin, ever so slightly, nodded at her and took

a step back. Seteal reached out with every

bit of strength she had left. Gez-reil had

released his portion of the anchor. She flung

herself forward as the insects squirmed

deeper into her failing body. There was the

canvas; so very far away. It beckoned her.

Squeezing herself through the broken link

in the anchor's chain, Seteal felt it bend,

fracture and break. Tearing free of her body,

she became one with the Ways. Unable as

she was to contain her power, the eight gils

exploded with such intense flames that they

were incinerated on the spot. Seteal reached

for Far-a-mael's Way, but found nothing. She

turned to her body and found it to be

engulfed by a squirming mass.

'Far-a-mael,' Seteal's body cried weakly.

She thrust winds at herself but only

managed to sweep away a portion of the

crawling insects. She took a hold of herself

and tried to drag her body up from the

ground, only to find that she couldn't.

Seteal's lungs rattled as the tissues were

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

eaten away. 'Far-a-mael,' the sound was an

inaudible whisper beneath the crawling

mass.

'Oh, my sweet Seteal.' Portions of Far-a-

mael appeared and disappeared as the

moths swarmed this way and that. 'Did you

learn nothing from our time together? Have

you forgotten Cold Wood? How many times

must I tell you that the mind cannot exist

without the body?'

Seteal threw her spirit at the horde of

moths. She reached out to them, but found

only darkness. This wasn't Far-a-mael. This

was a whisp-mutated version of the man

who'd died weeks earlier. Seteal reached

away from the canvas, groping through the

dark in the hope of finding anything to latch

onto, but in the end there was only one way

by which to satisfy a whisp: to give life.

The body defencelessly laying on the

earth shook violently as Seteal fell back into

it. Her eyes burst open. She tried to breathe

but couldn't. Her heartbeat was laboured

and the agony was excruciating. She was

blind in both eyes and had fallen deaf. She

tried to move, but her limbs didn't respond.

She was dying.

Clawing back up out of her body proved

to be impossible. It resisted her will to live,

so prepared as it was to die. She fell back.

Her head flopped sideways and she tasted

blood in her mouth, its origins having come

from somewhere deep within. Her body fell

silent. Her heart took its last beat. One final

rattling breath breezed past swollen lips. As

Seteal faded the canvas rose away, its

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Cael McIntosh

protective warmth abandoning her to the

dark.

Overwhelmed by all that she'd done it

might have been the easiest option just to

let go, but the thought stayed with her in

that moment between life and death, that

she couldn't go without taking Far-a-mael

with her. She swung at the Ways and

snatched them back by the vaguest trailing

strand. The strand wound around her heart

and squeezed a muscle that was no longer

able to beat of its own accord. Her blood

moved slightly, the heart having received too

many punctures to perform adequately. She

twisted the Ways so that they forced air

down her throat, inflating lungs that

couldn't properly absorb it. But it was

enough. She squeezed the heart again. She

would make herself live.

The Holy Spirit flew into reality and

latched onto the darkness that was Far-a-

mael. There the man stood, staring down at

Seteal's body laughing at her in his victory.

She sank into his being and drew the whisp

into herself. Far-a-mael fell forward

frowning. He looked at his hands as they

dissolved, dead moths falling to the earth.

'No,' he howled. 'What have you done?'

He screamed at Seteal's unmoving body as

the moths of his torso and head dissolved on

the wind.

By the time Far-a-mael had died with

countless dead moths littering the earth,

Seteal was no longer there to see it.

Scarcely recognisable was the corpse of a

young woman where she lay beside a

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dilapidated house in the desecrated town

that'd once been known by its inhabitants as

Elmsville. Just as the old man had said so

many times before: with her body having

passed into death, so too had Seteal.

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Lu-ke 21

23. Then this saying went abroad among

the brethren, that the Spirit should not die.

Yet Maker had not said unto them, 'She shall

not die,' but, 'If I will it that She tarry till I

come, what is that to thee?'

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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Cael McIntosh

## CHAPTER THIRTY

### NOT YOU

His eyes opened when the cage lurched

away from the ground, human fingers

grasping it between the bars. Seeol had

survived another night. He fluffed up his

remaining feathers against the cold, but

with half of his body exposed it did him little

good. The sky was black, of course, but the

darkness seemed less oppressive today and

Seeol thought that maybe on the distant

horizon he'd glimpsed a strip of blue, if only

for a second.

'Give me that.' Phil snatched the cage

away from Marin so forcefully that his finger

got twisted in the bars. His face flushed red,

but the man didn't dare raise his voice to a

superior officer. Phil's fingers slid around

the bars and Seeol looked up at them, the

temptation to take a bite almost

overpowering him. But he stilled himself,

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knowing that to do so would cause more

trouble than it was worth. He peeked out

over the edge of the tray to observe his

surroundings.

Late the day before, they'd entered a low-

lying forest somewhere near the southern

border of Kilk Antet. Every footfall sank into

crisp brown leaves that crunched before

scattering on the wind. Tiny streams and

rivulets scribbled about the forest, the

Jenjen soldiers having to sometimes wade

through waist-high water or other times hop

across on conveniently placed rocks. Riding

horses had, for the most part, become more

of a hazard than an advantage and as a

result the men had taken to leading them.

'Sir,' a sweaty-faced young soldier

addressed Phil when he was about to secure

Seeol's cage onto his horse's saddle.

'Yes?' Phil uttered distractedly, examining

the leather strap in search of any damage

Seeol might've done.

'I took a walk when you and the others

were sleeping,' the man said hurriedly.

'There's a river not a mile north of here.'

'Trotem river?' Phil asked with raised

eyebrows.

The soldier shook his head. 'It's smaller

than that, but the water runs fast.'

'Did you see a way past?' Phil ground his

teeth.

'I think so,' the soldier replied.

'All right.' Phil nodded. 'Lead the way,' he

said, turning to the others. 'All right,

everyone. We're moving out.'

Seeol awoke sometime later, not having

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Cael McIntosh

noticed he'd fallen asleep. It was probably

the roaring water that caused him to come

around, because such was the noise that the

men had to shout over it to be heard. After

gazing about his filthy cage, Seeol somewhat

indifferently tucked his head back and

closed his eyes again. 'All right, son,' Phil

called out. 'You found it. Show us the way.'

'Me, sir?' The young man's nervous

enquiry took Seeol's attention and he again

peered through the bars.

The river was rushing, foaming and

furious, but across its width were a lot of

large, flat and rather slippery-looking rocks.

The young soldier stepped into the river and

immediately threw out his arms to keep

from losing balance. He waded in until the

water was knee-deep. From there he leapt

out toward one of the flat rocks. The toe of

his boot hit the edge, but he lost his grip and

slipped, landing instead on his chest and

arms.

'Be careful,' he called back. 'It's slippery.'

He turned, steadied himself and sprinted to

the edge of the rock where he leapt through

the air, this time landing successfully on a

somewhat smaller platform. Following the

path of randomly placed rocks proved

difficult, the soldier occasionally having to

backtrack and try another path, but

eventually he made it to the other side.

'Right then,' Phil said, indicating that the

other men should cross the river, before

turning to the remaining three. 'You can

take the horses downstream until you find a

town or village with a bridge.'

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'Yes, sir,' one of the men replied as he and

the others turned to gather the animals.

'What about him?' Marin nodded at Seeol.

'He's coming with me.'

'If you don't mind my saying so, I don't

see how we'll manage to get him across.'

'We'll have to,' Phil smirked. 'I can't trust

him to these idiots. I won't trust him with

anyone. The reward is mine,' he said with a

lingering stare, as though he suspected

Marin of having plans to steal it.

Marin nodded respectfully. 'Of course.'

'You'll go ahead of me,' Phil stated. 'Then

I'll toss the cage for you to catch. Then I'll

take it back off you and you'll go ahead. So

forth and so on.'

Marin shuffled uneasily. 'That sounds

dangerous.'

'That's probably because it is,' Phil

replied. 'Are you not a Jenjen soldier? Are

you not Veretian?' He clapped the man on

the shoulder. 'You must do your bit for king

and country. We all must.'

'Yes,' Marin said simply before glancing

at Seeol, the two of them for a moment

sharing an expression of mutual discomfort.

'Is you stupider?' Seeol piped in. Marin

wasn't going to fight the insanity, which

meant he would have to. 'You is making the

craziest silly decision.'

'If I wanted your opinion, I'd have asked

for it,' Phil said with contempt. 'Why don't

you just sit there and tweet like a normal

bird. Leave the thinking to us humans.'

'Because you is going to kill us!' Seeol

shouted stubbornly, flying up to his perch,

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Cael McIntosh

gripping it firmly with his good foot and

balancing a little on the other. 'Maybe you

should do some tweeting. Your brain is

stupid.'

Phil turned to Marin, having decided not

to waste any more time humouring Seeol.

'Let's go.'

'All right,' Marin replied, hesitantly

turning toward the river.

'This is such a stupidest stupidness!'

Seeol's heart thundered in apprehension.

When Marin made it to the first rock

without any mishaps, Phil clamped a hand

over each side of Seeol's cage and launched

it into the air. 'Now your turn.'

Seeol was thrown back against the bars

as the cage sailed through the air. All he

could see were the clouds above. He beat

his wings to no avail as he was bounced

about. Seeol caught a glimpse of Marin's

face, the rushing water, the trees across the

river. The cage hit the water with a splash,

stabilised for a second and then started to

sink. He clung to the bars as the water

covered him and pulled him under. Then it

was gone, a giant hand having reached

down in time to pull the cage back up.

'Gotcha,' Marin gasped, slipping onto his

backside.

'See! You is going to killed us!' Seeol

shouted furiously back at Phil as he

prepared to jump across.

Phil patted his pocket, removed the

Devil's Stone and put it in his mouth. At

first, Seeol was confused by such an unusual

decision, but on second thought realised it

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

was probably the safest place to keep it.

Phil landed heavily and removed the stone

from his mouth. 'Quit complaining, you

drowned rat. Next one, Marin.' Phil nodded,

running his eyes over the rock. 'Maybe the

next two.'

'What?' Marin gaped.

'We can't both fit on that one,' Phil

mused. 'You'll have to jump the next two. I'll

toss the cage and come after.'

'That's a long way to throw,' Marin

observed.

'Is a very long way to throw,' Seeol

agreed, shaking the water from his feathers.

'Have a little faith.' Phil winked. 'You are

the Holy Spirit, after all.' His voice was

dripping with sarcasm.

When Marin had made it over the next

two rocks, Phil heaved the cage toward him

and again Seeol was tossed about in

confusion. Sodden faeces and left over

beetle bits sprayed through the bars as he

clung on for dear life. As the cage spiralled

through the air, he was left to piece together

the bits his surrounds as they spun. Marin's

face flashed close and closer. He spread out

his hands, but clapped them together too

late and the cage crashed down on to the

rock.

With a shuddering crack the tray broke

away and Seeol found himself bouncing

along the hard, wet surface. He shook his

head, taking a moment to orientate himself.

He was free. 'Grab him,' Phil cried.

Seeol shrieked and shook more water

from his feathers. Marin simply stared at

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Cael McIntosh

him with a dumbfounded expression. He

desperately wanted to fly away, but was kept

fixed in place by his need to retrieve the

Devil's Stone. Marin dove at him, but Seeol

fluttered around the man and landed on the

other side.

'Must I do everything myself?' Phil grated

tearing his sword free and leaping for the

next rock, but as he went he slipped and fell

forward, limbs flailing. He hit the rock face-

down. His hand fell open and the Devil's

Stone flew through the air. It bounced off

the rock occupied by Seeol and Marin and

onto another. Seeol dove toward it as Phil

steadied himself and leapt once more.

'Stop him,' Phil shrieked. Seeol landed

atop the small rock. He squeezed his toes

around the pebble's cool black surface,

readying himself for flight. 'No,' Phil cried,

swinging his sword. Seeol tensed his legs

too late and the flat of the blade slammed

down atop his wing. He screamed in agony

as the wing and shoulder bones were

shattered to useless fragments.

Seeol groaned and flapped his good wing

to no avail, the action only sending him

spinning across the rock and into the

freezing cold water. He squeezed the pebble,

the river sending him speeding downstream

on the current with blood swirling.

'Just take me home,' Seeol spluttered

before his head went under. There in the

silence his mind turned to Seteal. He saw

her warm, inviting face; the only home he'd

ever really known. He longed only to be in

the safety of her pocket or caressed, cupped

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The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

in her hands.

The water vanished along with everything

else as the stone responded to Seeol's

desperate plea. He opened his eyes and saw

his mangled wing oozing blood, splintered

bone sticking out in various places. He

looked about in confusion, before then

recognising a half-destroyed building as

Seteal's house. His eyes fell to a mangled

corpse on the ground beneath a gaping hole

in the side of the building. The body was

wearing a familiar white dress. His eyes

snapped up to her face.

'No,' he moaned, fighting through the

excruciating pain in his wing to hobble over.

'Not you,' he wailed. 'Not you!'

With one foot missing and the remaining

one occupied by holding the stone, getting

to Seteal's body proved to be a challenge,

but Seeol pushed himself nevertheless. She

was pockmarked by thousands of holes and

bites, her face almost unrecognisable. 'Oh,

please, not you,' Seeol cried out, the pain in

his heart superseding that which he felt in

his wing. He brushed his beak back and

forth across her cheek. 'I shouldn't have left

you all by your lonesome,' he said, his voice

filled with regret. 'Seteal.' He limped back

and gripped the stone furiously. 'It isn't fair,'

he howled. 'I wanted to come back to Seteal,

not this. Come back.' He closed his eyes and

pleaded with the stone. 'Come back to me.'

But the Devil's Stone had lost its power,

having already faded to grey rather than

black and was quickly getting lighter. The

last of its power had been used in

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Cael McIntosh

transporting Seeol to Elmsville. He stared

desperately out over the town if only to

discover more and more destruction every

which way he looked. He turned back to

Seteal.

'You is my friendly and I loves you.' He

prodded her cheek with his stump, before

huddling up beside her body if only to keep

her company for a moment.

*

When El-i-miir woke up, it was to find

herself being carried in Ilgrin's arms. She

opened her eyes to find Jakob walking

beside them as they headed back through

the woods. 'I'm so sorry,' she murmured.

'You have nothing to be sorry for,' Ilgrin

replied, looking down into her eyes. 'It was

the rain. We both did terrible things.'

'Okay.' El-i-miir nodded, wrestling down

onto her own two feet. 'How long has it

been?' she asked, noting the lighter shade of

shadows, representing the day.

'Jakob hit you pretty hard,' Ilgrin said

softly, 'so quite a while.'

'Sorry.' Jakob smiled awkwardly and

waved his newly healed arm. 'We're almost

back to Elmsville.'

'Oh,' El-i-miir gasped and stopped

walking.

'What is it?' Ilgrin turned to face her.

'Oh, no.' Her lip quivered and her mouth

went dry as the Ways sang a tune of sorrow.

She screamed. 'Seteal!'

'What's wrong?' Jakob asked, but El-i-miir

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ignored him and set off at a run. She tore

through the remaining trees with Jakob at

her heals and Ilgrin becoming airborne.

Elmsville was an unrecognisable mess

with every home shattered and the square

littered with bodies. 'Seteal!' El-i-miir

screamed when she came around the corner

and saw a body sprawled beside the

lopsided house. She halted abruptly,

hovering over the body, not quite sure of

what to do. She moved back and forth, too

shocked to find words as Jakob came up

behind her and Ilgrin landed.

'Oh, Maker,' was all Ilgrin could say.

'You did this!' El-i-miir screamed when

she located a frightfully wounded and

almost unrecognisable Seeol huddled

against her friend's neck. 'You're a curse.'

She waved her hands, not knowing what

else to do with them. Hot tears poured down

her face as El-i-miir crouched to cradle

Seteal's head. 'It's always been your fault.

You did this,' she sobbed.

'I know!' Seeol yelled back with such

unexpected passion that it almost fooled El-

i-miir into thinking he had real feelings.

'Don't you think I know that?' he said more

quietly. 'I tried to get her back.' He nudged

a light grey stone with his beak so that it

rolled across the ground.

'You used it?' El-i-miir gaped in disbelief.

Instead of answering Seeol just looked at his

toes. Not only had he used it, but he'd

selfishly done so twice.

'Okay,' Ilgrin exhaled softly with wide,

hysterical eyes. 'We have to think.' He paced

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for a moment, before kneeling beside Seteal.

'We can still fix this. I can bring her back.'

'It's no use,' El-i-miir wailed. 'She's

entirely severed. There's nothing left to

bring back.' She wept over the empty body,

surrounded by not even the fading shadow

of an aura.

Ilgrin put his hands over her. 'She's too

dead,' he murmured, 'but I have to try.' A

moment later he recoiled and looked away.

'I'm sorry we weren't here,' El-i-miir

sobbed by Seteal's ear. 'I'm sorry about

everything. I wish you could know how sorry

I am.' Her voice broke in remembrance of

the kidnapping and subsequent events

that'd played a part in the slow destruction

of the woman before her now. The distant

horizon sung a song that'd become

disgusting to El-i-miir's ears and she looked

up to find it blotted out by thousands of

legion soldiers.

'Get inside,' Jakob said anxiously. 'They

mightn't bother to land if they think we're

all dead.'

'He's right.' Ilgrin wrapped his arms

around El-i-miir to drag her away.

'No!' El-i-miir screamed, kicking out her

legs. 'It's Seteal. We can't just leave her

here.'

'Listen to me!' Ilgrin shouted. 'Seteal is

dead and if we don't find a place to hide

soon, we will be, too. It's over, El-i-miir. The

stone has been used up.' He pointed at the

pebble, which had become bright white. 'If

they ever existed to begin with, the gates of

Hae'Evun will never be opened. We had our

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shot and we screwed it up.'

'Maker help us all,' El-i-miir choked out as

she hurried on beneath Ilgrin's arm. She

cast her eyes back over her shoulder in time

to see Seeol still huddled against the

underside of Seteal's chin, his eyes slowly

closing. Jakob tore open the front door and

raced inside followed by the others. The

flooring slanted off to one side and the

windows had nearly all been shattered.

Jakob hunched low and Ilgrin stood flat

against the wall. El-i-miir hid beneath a

window. She raised her head slowly so that

she could peek outside as the rumble of silt

wings drew nearer. Soft thuds told of their

arrival.

'They're landing,' El-i-miir announced

with a heavy heart.

'You watch the back,' Ilgrin ordered

Jakob. 'I've got the front.' He looked into El-

i-miir's eyes, his expression grim. 'I think it

might be time for me to die for you. I want

you to go upstairs and hide in a wardrobe or

anything else you can find. Don't come

out . . . not for anything.'

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## CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

### MEET YOUR MAKER

The canvas spread away as Seteal fell. Or

perhaps it was the canvas that fell. The

farther away she came, the more of it that

she could see. One Way was layered atop

another, Hae'Evun and Earth. They were so

close and yet so far apart; one layer of cloth

placed atop another, but separate garments

nevertheless. The enormity of the Ways was

overwhelming. Time ceased this far away,

and what was once Seteal's mighty power

on earth became but a smear amongst all

that existed. New World was a spot of land

on a spherical planet that circled a great

burning mass of gas that made up the sun.

Countless galaxies filled the universe,

leaving Seteal's world behind as an

underwhelming speck of dust.

As she continued to fall, even the universe

started to shrink, the galaxies and

constellations pressing ever closer together.

She was close to the border of creation.

Everything vibrated out there--mixtures of

pure energy. She crossed into the void

outside and all that existed was the blinding

white.

Seteal opened her eyes and lifted her

hands. They appeared much like her own,

but she was aware that they were only an

illusion. Nothing existed as far as the eye

could see; only the white, against which her

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dress was almost indefinable.

'Seteal,' a voice spoke from behind her.

'Who are you?' She turned around to find

herself standing before a strange man. He

wore a black suit and tie beneath which his

bright red shirt stood out. His hair was black

and slicked back. His sharp moustache and

patch of triangular beard were neatly

trimmed. His eyes were yellow and his

pupils were slits. His appearance matched

perfectly with the barely restrained malice

radiating from His voice.

'I am your Maker,' He answered softly,

raising His hands to either side. 'And you are

My Holy Spirit.'

'I wondered if we'd meet,' Seteal said

sadly. 'So it's over?'

'It could be.' Maker tilted His head

expectantly.

'What does that mean?'

'What does any of it mean?' He asked

illusively. 'Isn't that the question to the

answer?'

'Why did it have to be so cruel?' Seteal

looked away, still haunted by the life she'd

once lived. 'Why did we have to suffer so

much, when You could've just fixed

everything?'

'Well . . .' Maker smiled. 'That wouldn't

have been much fun, now would it?'

'That's your answer?' She looked at the

all-powerful being disparagingly. 'All of our

pain throughout the ages . . . all the death

and rape?' Her lips quivered as the final

word passed through them. 'You created us

out of . . .'

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'Yes.' Maker nodded. 'Out of boredom.'

'But the Tome says Maker created us out

of love.' Seteal found herself almost

pleading that he agree. This indifferent

monster couldn't possibly be the Maker even

she'd hoped, on some level, existed.

'That's what the men who wrote the Tome

probably wanted to believe. Just because

one has created something does not mean

they're bound to love it.' Maker shrugged.

'You of all people must know that.' When

Maker finished speaking He was holding

Parrowun's dead, strangled body in His

arms.

'I loved him,' Seteal shouted, giving in to

tears. 'That you cannot take away from me.'

'Perhaps you did,' Maker opened his arms

and Parrowun vanished. He walked away a

few strides, placing his hands behind his

back as he went. 'There was once a time

when I was fond of humans, silts having

grown wearisome to Me. They're fickle

creatures, switching allegiances at the drop

of a hat. You saw how it was with Sa'Enoch.'

'Ilgrin?'

'If you like,' Maker said dismissively.

'That's what started all of this. If you must

blame someone, blame them. It was they

who perverted My laws, entering your world

against My will. It sickens Me even now. And

the humans are not innocent in all of this.

They welcomed the silts with open arms.'

'Why didn't you just put them back and

seal our worlds apart?' Seteal shook her

head at the senselessness of it all. 'Why not

simply punish those in the wrong and leave

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the rest of us to be.'

'Oh, Seteal.' Maker turned around with a

cruel smile. 'Have you not read that I am a

vengeful Maker?'

'Seeking vengeance just seems so . . .

petty,' she spoke her mind without thinking.

'How dare you!' Maker threw out his

hand and Seteal flew back through the

white, landing heavily some distance away.

By the time she sat up, He was looming over

her. 'I wanted My creation to have free will.

Forcing you to do what I wanted would have

made that impossible. You had to be

punished so that you could learn to do as I

say.'

'What's the difference?' Seteal probed,

rising to her feet. 'You ask that we do as You

say under threat of punishments worse than

death. How can you possibly call that free

will?'

'There are rules,' Maker snapped.

'That You made up,' Seteal barked. 'My

son didn't have to die.'

'The first time the gates were opened, it

was done out of selfish lust and desire,'

Maker responded softly. 'Since their

inception, the Ways have demanded a

certain balance. Life granted requires life to

be taken and so forth. That's why it has to

be this way. The gates will only to be opened

through sacrifice and suffering.'

'But it's too late.' Seteal exhaled slowly.

'I'm dead.'

'Look there.' Maker pointed and Seteal

was able to see far below her feet, an

eternity away laid her corpse with a small

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elf owl pressed up against it. 'Do you see

Sa'Tan's old stone?'

'I thought it was supposed to be black,'

she murmured.

'Seeol used it in getting back to you,'

Maker chuckled. 'I allowed it to take him as

far as your body, but that wasn't really what

he'd asked for.'

'What did he ask for?'

'You,' Maker replied simply. 'All he wanted

was to be back with you.'

'What's happened to him?' Seteal reached

out to the bird, knowing she could never

touch him.

'He fought hard to reclaim the stone,'

Maker replied nonchalantly. 'That bird

deserves more credit than you give him.'

'I know that now,' Seteal replied with a

pang in her heart.

'Never mind. He's only an elf owl, after

all,' Maker stressed the final two words.

'Why didn't you give him what he'd asked

for?' Seteal's mind turned back to Maker's

earlier comment.

'It disgusts me,' He snarled. 'You people

never learn. Things are meant to die. I

afflicted you with whisps and still you raise

the dead or associate freely with those who

do. Even now, the little bird is begging that

the stone should bring you back to life.'

'Maker, forgive him, for he does not know

what he is doing,' Seteal pleaded on Seeol's

behalf.

Maker adjusted his tie and spread out his

hands. 'It is not for Me to decide on Seeol's

fate.'

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'Give him what he asked for.' Seteal

stepped forward aggressively. 'Send me

back.'

'Are you quite sure?' Maker asked. 'The

rest of it will be much worse than all you've

suffered so far.'

'But the gates . . .' she trailed off.

'Will remain sealed forever,' Maker

confirmed. 'Humans will become extinct and

not long after that, silts, too, will perish by

the darkness brought forth from their own

hands.'

'That doesn't matter to you?'

'Not at all,' Maker said with contempt.

'I've lost patience with creation. Their

deaths will restore balance to the Ways and I

will move on.'

'Send me back,' Seteal said with

determination.

'Who are they to you?' Maker shook his

head in disdain. His eyes fell to Ilgrin, El-i-

miir, and Jakob as they sought a place to

hide. 'You could be at peace.'

'I'll never be at peace and they deserve a

chance to survive. At least grant us that

much,' Seteal demanded. 'Just tell me what

to do.'

'You don't deserve anything from Me.'

Maker's lip curled in repulsion. 'But I did

invest My Holy Spirit into you so that this

would come to pass. So I'll grant you that

much.'

'But what about the key?'

'You still think it's the stone, don't you?'

Maker chuckled malevolently. 'It really

would be a shame to relieve you of the

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mystery.'

'Give me something,' Seteal pleaded, her

body beginning to fade.

'Dan-i-el chapter eleven, verse 31 and

Matt-hew 16, verses 19 and 20,' Maker

whispered with a cunning smile. 'And

remember: the stone's power is fleeting,

Seteal. You will not have long before you

again pass into death. And the suffering

must be deep to the soul.'

Revelation 1

17. And when I saw Him, I fell at His feet

as if dead. And He laid His right hand upon

me, saying unto me, "Fear not; She is the

first and the last.

18. She is the one whom liveth, and was

dead; and behold, She is alive for evermore,

Amen."

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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Cael McIntosh

## CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

### THE SECOND COMING

Ilgrin pressed back up against the door and

looked through to the next room, making

eye contact with Jakob and putting a finger

to his lips. 'Spread out,' a voice drifted in

from outside. 'Search every building. If

they're here, we'll find them.'

His breath coming in shallow gulps, Ilgrin

chanced a glance through the window

beside the door, but immediately pulled back

when he saw wings pass by. The steps

creaked outside. Ilgrin shot a fearful look at

Jakob, who reflected a similar expression.

He reached for the handle and squeezed as

someone rattled it on the other side. 'This

one's locked.'

'There's a hole around the side of the

building,' another replied. 'We'll go around.'

'Or we could break the door down,' the

first voice suggested.

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'There's been enough destruction here,'

the other silt grumbled, before their footfall

thumped back down the stairs.

Ilgrin hurried through to the kitchen to

join Jakob. 'They'll be in here any second,'

he whispered.

'What are we going to do?' Jakob hissed

back. 'I only have a few bullets.'

'Listen.' Ilgrin pointed a finger at Jakob's

face. 'You listen to me. Go up and get El-i-

miir as quickly as you can. I'll keep them

busy as long as possible while you two get

out of here. Head for the woods.'

Jakob shook his head in protest. 'Forgive

the cliché, but that's just suicide.'

'Do as I've asked.' Ilgrin squeezed the

man's shoulder. 'Please.'

'Okay.' Jakob swallowed nervously. 'Take

this.' He handed Ilgrin a rifle.

'Thanks.' Ilgrin exhaled slowly in an

attempt to calm himself and turned toward

the next room where voices trailed in from

outside.

'Like I said,' one of the soldiers said to the

other. A gush of wind told Ilgrin that one of

them had entered. Fearing he'd lose his

nerve, he threw himself around the corner.

He charged toward the legion soldier with a

shout that caught him off-guard, causing

him to stumble out of the way. Ilgrin threw

himself out of the house and surged into the

sky.

'Was that him? That was him!' a voice

cried from the ground.

From the air, Ilgrin was able to see how

truly hopeless their situation was. So many

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demons had landed in and around Elmsville

that they couldn't all fit in the town. The sky

was awash with silts swooping and

searching for signs of life. Word quickly

spread of who Ilgrin was and the masses

surged after him.

*

El-i-miir had agreed to hide only because

Ilgrin wouldn't have taken no for an answer.

And that wasn't her only motivation. From

Seteal's bedroom window, she was able to

see across town. Such a vantage point would

make it easier if she had to affiliate anyone.

So she waited, her eyes penetrating auras to

pick out the easier targets among the legion.

If silts found them, she'd be ready to possess

as many as she had to, hopefully this time

without losing her mind.

There was a shout, followed by a flurry of

motion that set the hair on the back of El-i-

miir's neck on end. She pushed up against

the window to discover what might've

caused so many silts to surge in one

direction. A single demon appeared in the

sky some fifty strides into the air. He dipped

and swooped with a rifle in hand. Hundreds

pursued him. He spun around and fired a

shot. A silt fell.

'Ilgrin!' El-i-miir slapped her hand against

the glass. 'Oh, no!'

'Come on.' Jakob's wrapped his arms

around her and tried to pull her kicking and

screaming away from the window.

'Let go of me!' she shouted. 'We have to

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help him.'

'Ilgrin chose his fate.' Jakob grabbed her

arm. 'He wanted you to get away. Don't let

him die in vain.'

'No.' El-i-miir burst into tears, but she

stopped fighting and allowed Jakob to drag

her from the room. There were too many.

She'd never be able to affiliate enough to

make a difference. 'Oh, Ilgrin!' she wailed.

'What have you done?'

'Shut the torrid up,' Jakob ordered by her

ear when they reached the door. Another

gunshot rang out and El-i-miir's attention

snapped back to the window in time to see

Ilgrin's flight become laboured.

'Oh, Maker,' she said through quivering

lips. 'They got him.'

El-i-miir became a helpless burden. She

couldn't think. She was numb. Seteal had

prophesied that he would die saving their

lives. The prophesy had finally come true.

Somehow Jakob managed to keep El-i-miir

moving through the hall, down the steps and

around to the back door.

'I've been sneaking around these

creatures my entire life, so be quiet, stay

low, and do as I say,' he said firmly, before

pushing the door open a half handwidth to

peek outside. 'Okay, let's go.'

The two stepped out, El-i-miir hurrying

after Jakob as he led the way. His

movements were sharp. One moment they'd

be running from one house to another, the

next he'd snatch at El-i-miir's arm and pull

her back just in time to avoid being seen.

'Okay go.' He shoved her forward. They ran

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up to the final house behind which was only

the graveyard and a long stretch of baron

land before the relative safety of Navon

Wood.

Before racing off to their probable deaths,

El-i-miir took a moment to cast her eyes into

the sky, pleading desperately for a glimpse

of Ilgrin. 'Maker,' she exclaimed when she

spotted him dangling from the arms of a

female figure who flew without wings.

'Is that . . . ?' Jakob trailed off.

'I don't believe it,' El-i-miir murmured.

Seteal threw out an arm resulting in a great

hole being punched through the mass of

silts. Those struck flailed and spun through

the air before regaining control or hitting

the earth.

'There's no time.' Jakob pulled on El-i-

miir's arm, her attention remaining fixed on

the sky. 'We have to get to the woods.' A

moment later they were running low

between gravestones and across the

expanse to Narvon Wood.

'There's no use in hiding,' a legion soldier

said from his place in one of the trees.

'We've conquered your world. Where will

you go?'

'Leave us alone,' El-i-miir stated, touching

the silt's aura. He flew away and became

distracted by other humans. El-i-miir

released her hold, grateful but confused as

to where he'd found other humans. 'The

overgrown farmhouse,' she said urgently. 'It

must be impossible to spot from above and

Seteal will know to find us there.'

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When the others had rushed off to hide,

Seeol was left alone with Seteal's body. He

wouldn't leave her no matter what. He

refused. El-i-miir had been right. This was

all his fault. If he hadn't left Seteal alone,

she wouldn't have been killed. He should

have protected her, but how could he? All

he'd ever done was hurt her. He nuzzled up

against her neck, careful not to step on his

mangled wing. It still oozed blood and

throbbed so forcefully that it felt like it

might explode.

A pair of legion soldiers came around the

corner of the house. 'I wonder what

happened to her,' said the first, nodding at

Seteal's rather unfortunate-looking remains.

'Maker only knows,' the other replied,

stopping to take a moment to stare, not

having noticed Seeol. He took off his hat and

squeezed it. 'Such a waste,' he said with sad

eyes.

'Just look at this damage.' The first silt

ignored him, instead examining the hole in

the side of the house.

'Like I said,' the other replied, his eyes

running momentarily over Seeol before he

turned to watch his comrade leap into the

house.

There was a shout and then Ilgrin breezed

out and into the sky so that the silt who'd

been inside almost toppled out after him.

'Was that him? That was him!' the demon

cried, before he and the other hurried after

Ilgrin, crying out to others as they went.

Seeol squeezed the Devil's stone as he

watched Ilgrin fly. It was something he

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would never be able to do again. 'Please

come back,' he pleaded of Seteal one last

time. 'We need you and I misses you too

much to breathe. Is my only friendly in the

whole wide world.'

As Seeol pressed up against Seteal's neck

he felt his head wobbling gently back and

forth. He examined her flesh to find it

pulsing. She had a pulse! Seeol stepped

back in awe as the bites and wounds across

Seteal's body sealed over and her flesh

became smooth and healthy. He hoped with

everything in him for her return, all the

while not daring to believe it was true.

'Seeol,' Seteal whispered on her first

breath.

He rocked back and forth for a moment,

unable to believe what he was seeing. The

stone had heard him. 'Is you,' he said in

disbelief. 'Is so happy.' He bobbed his head

rapidly.

'You're quite a sight, aren't you,' Seteal

murmured, carefully picking up Seeol as she

rose to her feet.

'I have the key.' He picked up the stone in

his beak and tapped it repeatedly against

Seteal's thumb.

'Thank you.' She sighed distractedly,

gazing up into the sky. 'Ilgrin,' she

whispered anxiously. 'What've you done?'

She reached up into the house and put Seeol

on the floor. 'I'll be back. Find a place to

hide.' With that she was jolted into the sky

as though she'd been dragged up by some

external force. Seeol limped across the

floorboards until he found an open,

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upturned copy of the Holy Tome. Its pages

had been crumpled in such a way that the

book stood like a little tent made just for

him. He nuzzled between the pages and

decided to rest for a while. His head

drooped to the beat of his throbbing wing

and his eyes came to a close.

*

The sky was a dense mass of winged

bodies that flew about one another with

startling proficiency. The whisp clouds

rumbled, daring the silts to add more to

their number. It didn't take long before

Seteal attracted attention, standing out: a

human flying in a tattered white dress.

Guns fired bullets that she stopped in

mid-air. Seteal spun around and waved her

hand so that a hundred demons blew away

into the distance. Coiling the Ways about her

body, she pulled herself toward Ilgrin, but

she arrived too late. Gunfire filled her ears

and Ilgrin's flight became laboured. He

dipped for a moment before finding the

strength to continue at a slower pace.

'Ilgrin,' Seteal cried in time to watch him

lose his battle with gravity. She rushed over

and threw her arms around his mid-section.

Dark blood trickled away from his torso in

line with his lower ribs. 'I've got you,' she

comforted the demon as his body shuddered

tiredly and his wings became limp. Seteal

shrieked as the mass of silts engulfed them.

She threw out her hand--allowing Ilgrin to

dangle from the other--and blasted a hole

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through the masses. The demons spiralled

away to regain balance or hit the earth and

die.

As Seteal dipped and twisted about the

sky, she hurriedly came to the realisation

that she was going to have to do something

more drastic if she hoped to escape without

killing everybody. She didn't want to kill

anybody. She'd done enough of that.

An idea struck her and Seteal started

freefalling. 'What're you doing?' Ilgrin called

as the legion soldiers caved in after them.

'Creating a distraction,' Seteal replied,

focusing on all that which she'd have

preferred to forget. For Ilgrin's sake, she

landed gently and allowed him to lean on

her shoulder. Master Fasil was there to

welcome them.

'Such a naughty girl.' He stepped forward

licking his lips.

'I need more.' Seteal focused.

'Who are you?' Ilgrin grimaced at Master

Fasil's predatory expression.

'Mister Eltari,' Gifn replied, stepping up

from behind them. 'My sweet daughter.' He

pushed his hand through Seteal's hair.

'That's your father?' Ilgrin gaped. 'I

thought--'

'They're not real,' Seteal grabbed Ilgrin's

hand and dragged him across town as the

folks of Elmsville reappeared all around

them to go about their daily activities. 'I'm

projecting my memories,' she called out

before waving her hand toward the crowd of

landing silts so that they were blown out of

the way.

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'Will they fight for us?'

'They'll do whatever my memory expects

them to do based on what I know about

them.' Seteal led Ilgrin toward the house.

'So that would be a no then?'

'They'll be slaughtered.' Seteal glanced

over her shoulder and raced up the front

steps, satisfied to see that the distraction

was working, the silts having busied

themselves killing those who were already

dead. 'It won't take long for them to figure it

out.' She winced when she saw a sword

strike Cindi, but instead of wailing or

pouring blood, the memory just shimmered

out of existence.

'What're we doing here?' Ilgrin asked as

he hurried inside and closed the door.

'We're safe for now.' Seteal's eyes

snapped back and forth across the room.

'I sent the others into the woods,' Ilgrin

said slowly, perhaps having thought Seteal

was looking for El-i-miir.

'Have you seen my father's Holy Tome?'

Seeol's patchily feathered head popped

out from beneath the upturned book. 'Is

here.'

'Come on,' Seteal said, scooping up Seeol

and sliding him into the safety of her pocket.

She picked up the tome and turned to Ilgrin.

The silt's face fell, his eyes locked on

something over her shoulder.

Seteal spun around faster than was

humanly possible and watched a bullet leave

its barrel through the window. She saw it

shatter the glass, plucked it from the air,

spun around and released it back at such a

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trajectory that it hit the shooter in the

centre of his forehead. 'Where were you

going to meet the others?' Seteal asked.

Ilgrin jumped when something exploded

against the side of the house. 'I didn't really

think I was going to come out of this,' he

replied apologetically. 'You were dead . . . I

just told them to hide in the woods.' Smoke

billowed in from outside.

'The broken house,' Seeol offered from

Seteal's pocket. 'Nobody can see it in the

sky.'

'Of course.'

'What broken house?' Ilgrin asked in

bewilderment, following Seteal into the

kitchen.

'Far-a-mael brought me there when we

first . . . met,' she said distractedly. 'If El-i-

miir needed to hide, that's where she'll have

gone.' Seteal pulled open the door.

A crowd of legion soldiers waited. With a

guttural cry she threw out her slowly

cracking arms. The demons flew as a hot

burst of energy left her hands. A moment

later she was running through the

graveyard, supporting Ilgrin with his hand

pressed against his ribs. When they reached

the open field increasing numbers of

demons started swooping after them, but

the majority were still distracted by Seteal's

memories.

After they'd reached the trees, she made

sure to lose anyone pursuing them before

making her way toward the overgrown farm

house. She stumbled through the shrubbery

and into the crumbling building.

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'Seteal,' El-i-miir gasped, tears running

down her face as she rushed to embrace her.

She sobbed into her neck. 'Thank Maker

you're alive.'

'I am,' Seteal said softly, knowing her

time was short, 'but we must act quickly. My

memories are fading,' she turned to Ilgrin,

'and sooner or later they will pursue us into

the woods.'

'What should we do?' Jakob asked,

stepping out of the shadows.

'The answers are in here.' Seteal opened

the Holy Tome.

'Oh, Seteal.' El-i-miir shook her head.

'Ye of little faith,' Seteal said with a half-

smile. 'You do realise that I was too dead,

don't you?'

'Yes,' El-i-miir said slowly. 'That's why this

is all so confusing.'

'When I died,' Seteal said softly, 'I met

with Maker. He told me exactly what parts

of this to read in order to find the gates of

Hae'Evun,' she stated, pawing through the

pages.

El-i-miir snatched at her wrist and looked

her in the eye. 'You actually spoke to

Maker?'

'Yes,' Seteal replied.

'Well, what did He have to say?' El-i-miir

asked in exasperation. 'What did He say

about the world and what's happened?'

'You know what? Nothing of any value.'

Seteal pursed her lips. 'To be perfectly

honest with you, I don't think I liked Him

very much at all. In fact, He was really quite

pathetic.' She looked up to find herself

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surrounded by stunned expressions.

Seteal realised then that with her father's

deeply held religious values she'd always

felt a sense of shame for being who she was.

But now it occurred to her that she'd spent

too much time fearing Maker's wrath. If she

was an abomination in His eyes, then that

was His problem, not hers. If Maker ever

wanted people to love Him, He'd have to

stop threatening to kill them every time they

had a differing opinion. To do so made Him

petty and insecure.

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Dan-i-el 11

31. Darkness shall pollute the sanctuary

and take away all the light, and there shall

be the gates, the abomination that maketh

desolate.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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## CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

### THE GATES OF HAE'EVUN

'The abomination that maketh desolate,'

Seteal read the words a second time. 'What

could that mean?'

She was answered at first by bewildered

silence. 'The black tree,' Seeol said softly--

the pain clear in his voice--from within

Seteal's pocket.

'The tree,' El-i-miir gasped. 'Of course.'

'What tree?' Ilgrin enquired.

'There is a tree south of here,' Jakob

intoned. 'It's unlike anything I've ever seen.

Nothing lives around it.'

'It's an abomination that maketh

desolate,' Seteal murmured, flicking through

the pages for the other verses Maker had

mentioned. Intent as she was, she failed to

notice the gathering demons outside or the

lit bottle being tossed through a hole in the

wall. Her eyes widened as it sailed through

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the air.

'Seteal!' El-i-miir dove for her before she

could react and the two stumbled out of the

way.

'The Tome,' Seteal cried as the bottle

shattered and the wall became awash with

flames that also ignited the ancient book.

'Come on,' Jakob helped her up while

Ilgrin tended to El-i-miir. The side wall

collapsed and the four of them hurried out.

Seteal threw up her hands and blasted a

dozen demons off their feet. El-i-miir

possessed a handful and turned them

against those who remained. One of her

demons handed a rifle to Ilgrin and then

Jakob. The men didn't hesitate in using

them. As they raced through the woods

dodging demons and entangled plantation,

Seteal made sure to cradle her pocket to

minimize Seeol's discomfort.

When they reached the clearing, she was

filled with an overwhelming sense of

foreboding. Her heart thundered and light

faded, but it was the clouds above that held

her attention. The whisps churned and

spiraled toward the clearing like water

turning down a sink.

'If you're going to do something, you'd

better do it quickly,' Jakob called, snapping

Seteal from her thoughts. He spun around

and shot a hole in a demon's chest.

Ilgrin let off a number of shots before his

weapon clicked and became useless and he

had to resort to using his fists. El-i-miir had

glazed eyes and raised hands. At her

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bidding, demons either remained stationary

or fought their kin. 'Hurry, Seteal,' she and a

nearby demon uttered in unison. 'I can't

hold them. There are too many of us.'

'I don't know what to do,' Seteal cried,

pacing irritably before the looming tree.

'What do I do?' She pleaded as the number

of silts increased.

'What scriptures?' Seeol called almost

inaudibly over the ruckus.

'Matt-hew 16:19-20,' Seteal replied,

anxiously removing Seeol from her pocket.

'Do you know them?'

'Sometimes Ieane would do reading with

me.' Seeol bobbed his head, which resulted

in a cascade of feathers falling away on the

wind.

'What does it say?' Seteal glanced over to

see El-i-miir's face covered in sweat and

contorted as her web of affiliation grew.

'Hurry,' Ilgrin cried, knocking out one of

the affiliated silts in an effort to lessen El-i-

miir's burden. Jakob glanced at her fearfully

before firing his last shot.

'And I will giving thee the key to

Hae'Evun in the palm of your hands,' Seeol

tilted his head and quoted the passage. 'And

the gate you is opened on Earth will be

opened in Hae'Evun, and if the key you lose

on Earth, it shall be lost forever. I will give

you the key into the lock, for you but to turn

it.' Seeol nodded. 'That's it.'

Seteal floundered in wonder for but a

moment, before her eyes locked on Seeol

where he rested in the palm of her hands.

'The palm of your hands,' she whispered

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with quivering lips and bleary eyes. 'Not

him,' she uttered as though Maker might

hear her plea. But He wouldn't. There was

not a bit of love in Him. 'Do you know this

place, Seeol?' Seteal asked, seeking

confirmation in the vain hope that she was

wrong.

'I hatched in the roots,' Seeol replied with

a nod.

Seteal said nothing, instead falling to her

knees in front of the tree. The gates of

Hae'Evun had been there all along, Maker

having placed the key in the lock, leaving

Seteal but to turn it. Seeol was the key to

the gates of Hae'Evun, not the Devil's stone.

This time the gates were only to be opened

through sacrifice and suffering, Maker's

words echoed through Seteal's mind. The

suffering must be deep to the soul.

Remembering the knowing that she'd had

long ago, Seteal's mouth dropped and she

realised how wrongly she'd interpreted it.

The knowing had predicted that the one who

loved El-i-miir would die saving them all.

The prophesy had spoken truth, but Seteal

had failed to interpret that its meaning was

referring to the love of an elf owl. As had

occurred so many times before, Seeol had

simply been . . . overlooked.

'Seteal!' Ilgrin shouted as he cracked a

silt's scull with a swing of his rifle. 'Do

something!'

'Help me!' El-i-miir screamed along with

the masses of silts surrounding her. 'We

can't keep going.' They clamped their hands

to either side of their heads.

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'Oh, Seeol,' Seteal leaned toward the tree,

which recognised her intentions, enveloping

the two in a private vale of darkness. The

world outside the tree's immediate

surroundings slowed to a crawl as the

abomination which maketh desolate leaned

forward to hang off every word.

'Is you okay?'

'No, I'm not okay.' Seteal wiped her nose

and swallowed hard to supress any further

tears. The tree was watching. For the gates

to open, the sacrifice would have to be

convincing.

'What's wrongness?' Seeol's voice

became sad as he rubbed his beak back and

forth over Seteal's thumb.

'The stone you told me about,' Seteal

choked out, working hard to keep her face

still and her voice steady. 'It's not the key at

all. You were wrong.'

Seeol hung his head. 'Is terrible.'

'I was a fool to trust in you.' She made

her voice hard. 'We're all going to die

because of you. You failed us, Seeol. You

failed me. You failed Ilgrin and El-i-miir. Yes,

she, too, will die because of you.'

'I'm sorry,' Seeol replied after a long

pause, his voice heavy with regret. 'I

thought that . . . you must know I didn't

mean it, don't you? Maybe we can go off to

find the real one.'

'Look around you.' Seteal stifled a sob.

'It's too late isn't it? We're surrounded and

I'm not strong enough to fight an attack of

this magnitude. The world of mankind will

be destroyed. The creation of whisps will

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continue and then Ilgrin's people will be

wiped out, too. The world will become a

wasteland of whisp-mutated monsters, just

like you.'

'My darkness is gone now,' Seeol raised

his eyes. 'I won't hurt you anymore. I can be

a proper friend.'

'My friend?' Seteal spat the word with as

much scorn as she could muster. 'You were

never my friend. You sought us out and we

did everything we could to escape you.'

'But I thought . . .' Seeol's voice wavered,

his eyes shining sorrow. 'I know about them,

but I thought that at least maybe you . . .

maybe you liked me. Maybe you sees me

inside and likes me a little bit.'

'How could I possibly like you?' Seteal

squeezed out the words as hot tears rolled

down her cheeks. 'You're just a little bird,'

she whispered the sentence she'd been

guilty of uttering so many times before.

'You're only an elf owl.'

'I tried,' Seeol whispered, further

burdening Seteal's heart. She looked up at

the tree pleadingly. Why wouldn't it take

him? How much more of him did she have to

destroy? 'I tried to make you some

happiness,' Seeol continued, 'when you was

sad. I didn't meaning for you to die. I went

to help and I'm sorry I left you all

alonesome. Don't being angry at me.'

'I'm not angry.' Seteal shook her head,

breathing in short gasps. 'I wanted you to

die. All of my torments were because of

you.'

'I know now,' Seeol replied despairingly.

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'I'm sorry. I didn't meant it. You is my friend.

I loves you.'

'Oh, Maker, why have you forsaken me?'

Seteal wailed up at the tree before releasing

a shuddering breath. In simple response the

darkness became silent. So still was the air

that Seteal was able to hear Seeol's rattling

breaths. 'I'm going to kill you now,' she

turned to look at the owl resting in her

palms. It took every last bit of strength she

had not to tell Seeol that she loved him too

and that he'd been the truest friend she'd

ever known. The tiny bird had won her

heart, but cruel fate meant that he was to

die without knowing it. He would die alone.

'Why?' Seeol asked after what seemed

like a long time. He moved about

uncomfortable as the darkness weighed

down, pressing heavily against him. 'I like

living.'

Seteal spluttered out the cruellest insult

she could think of. 'Because you're an

abomination.'

'I suppose you is right,' Seeol rattled, his

legs giving way so that he was forced to rest

on his scantily feathered keel. He rubbed his

beak absentmindedly against Seteal's palm,

perhaps the action having become as

greater comfort to him as it'd long been to

her. But he stopped abruptly to peer up into

her eyes. The darkness thickened and his

feathers became matted with blood. 'But in

the end,' he said so softly that Seteal had to

move her face close to hear him, 'did it

matter that I tried; that I cared? In the end,

did I matter?'

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There was an extended moment during

which Seteal couldn't speak for fear of

giving herself away. But then she answered

him. 'No,' she whispered fatalistically. Seeol

closed his eyes and the darkness washed

over Seteal's palms. When the tide swept

back it took with it his soul, leaving nothing

but the lifeless remains of an elf owl.

Seteal stayed on her knees staring at the

little bird, before tumbling forward sobbing

apologies that fell on ears no longer able to

hear. 'Of course you mattered,' she

blubbered over the body. 'Oh, Seeol . . . in

the end, it didn't matter what they thought

of you . . . or even what you thought of

yourself,' she sobbed, horrified by the

isolation in which she'd made him die. 'In

the end, all that mattered was who you

were.' She wept bitterly and stroked his

crown. 'And you were beautiful. And I loved

you.'

'For Maker's sake,' Jakob's panicked

voice cut through the void and shattered it.

'It's just a bird!'

Seteal placed the feathery body among

the roots of the tree. The stone's power

began to wane and tiny red bites appeared

across her flesh. With a rumbling sound, the

tree split down the middle and the roots

squirmed in opposite directions, dragging

each side away from the other. The upper

branches became entwined, forming an arch

above two pillars that came to a stop on

opposite sides of the clearing. The

impenetrable darkness between them was

pockmarked with small holes that spread

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out as the shadows solidified to form solid

black gates.

The whisp clouds funnelled feverishly

toward Narvon Wood and Seteal knew that it

was her they craved. They'd been searching

for her soul since they'd tasted it months

earlier. She looked at Seeol's lifeless body

one last time through teary eyes, his few

remaining feathers moving fitfully in the

wind. 'This will never happen again,' she

sobbed. 'I promise you that.'

The Ways murmured about Seteal as she

spread her arms and tossed back her head.

She took but a moment to think about

what'd happened to Seeol, her father, and

Parrowun before the whisps reached out to

her. 'Go on then,' she whispered through

gritted teeth, 'take me.' The black mist

rushed through the canopy and plunged into

Seteal's chest.

*

El-i-miir's head felt like it was about to

explode as she maintained the patchy web of

affiliation. Another mind was added and she

felt her strength failing. She could not take

another. Not a single one. They could not.

El-i-miir's mind bounced about her many

bodies while Ilgrin held onto and supported

her.

'Go on then,' Seteal said as El-i-miir

watched from countless perspectives, 'take

me.' At her suggestion the endless stream of

whisps plunged through the canopy and into

her chest.

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With a clunk the gates swung open to

reveal a strange shadowy world of purple

trees and grey dirt. Semitransparent figures

with great arching wings moved about on

the other side, but someone was screaming.

El-i-miir turned away from the gates,

distracted by the noise.

The Elglair woman clamped her hands

over her head and wailed in distress. It took

her a moment to realise that the woman was

her. But how could it be her if she was

watching the woman stumble, only to be

kept aloft by Ilgrin's strong arms? She had

to kill them. They were the enemy. Her

wings twitched. She had hundreds of wings.

The silts approached, brandishing their

weapons.

'Stay with me,' the words whispered into

her ear. Purple eyes and sharp features held

her attention. 'Focus, El-i-miir,' Ilgrin's

pleaded.

'Just leave me alone!' El-i-miir howled.

She blasted hundreds of thousands of

strands of affiliation out of her aura, taking

with them that one single overwhelming

message to every silt in the world. El-i-miir's

legs gave out as she released the web and

tumbled to the earth. Ilgrin was not there to

catch her. Like the other demons, his eyes

were locked through the gates as he

marched toward them with determination.

The clearing filled with bright light as the

sun and sky were revealed for the first time

in weeks. Seteal doubled over with her

hands on her knees, no longer standing

proud against the weight of a thousand

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whisps. Black cracks slithered across her

flesh as she panted raggedly with wild eyes.

'No,' she shouted up as the stream of

darkness, which had begun to pull away,

shuddered in defense. Seteal had drunk

them in and survived more than half their

number. The whisps were losing confidence.

'More.' She threw up her arms and drew on

the Ways, forcing the black mist to continue

its journey into her.

The clearing was choked with silts who

wrestled to get through the gates, the

powerfully affiliated message driving them

to do so. Never before had El-i-miir or any

gil in recorded history so completely

embedded an idea in so many minds

simultaneously. 'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir moaned,

snatching at his arm and tugging. 'I meant

the others,' she cried, burrowing a strand of

affiliation into his aura in the hopes of

dislodging the one previously laid. But it was

no use. Somehow she'd pushed the idea so

deep, that even she couldn't remove it. 'Stop

it,' El-i-miir pulled on his arm, but he was so

strong that she was only dragged along

behind him.

'I must leave,' Ilgrin droned. 'I must pass

through the gates.'

'Oh, Ilgrin,' El-i-miir released him and

covered her mouth with her hand. 'Whatever

happens . . .' She bit her lip when he

reached the gateway. 'Know that I love you.'

She watched the demon's hand fall flat

against the tree as he stepped forward. 'And

I'm sorry. For everything.'

A coughing sound stole El-i-miir's

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attention. Seteal collapsed, the final black

vapours wafting into her flesh. She looked

up to discover that the sky was clear blue

and her surroundings were bathed in

sunlight. 'Seteal,' El-i-miir murmured,

hurrying over to her friend as she choked

and shook, hands at her throat. 'What have

you done?'

'It'll be okay,' Seteal wheezed, clinging

shakily to El-i-miir's arm as she wobbled on

her feet. Her face was white porcelain

covered in cracks, her flesh fragmenting.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips were

split and dry. 'It's for the best.'

'No.' El-i-miir sobbed. 'Oh, Seteal!' She

threw her arms around her friend, but a

moment later she tumbled to the earth

where she remained with hazel eyes fixed on

the dazzling blue sky. El-i-miir sat down and

cradled her head.

'Don't worry,' Seteal said tiredly, even in

her darkest moment taking the time to offer

reassurance with a strained smile. 'At last

I'll be free.'

'Don't say that,' El-i-miir moaned,

squeezing Seteal's hand. 'Don't give up.'

'Take care of each other,' she rasped, her

eyes focused over El-i-miir's shoulder as the

light within them faded. The cracks crossing

Seteal's flesh became increasingly

prominent as they splintered further and the

darkness consumed her. With a strong

breeze she dissolved into thousands of ash-

like sheets that blew away on the wind. El-i-

miir opened the hand that'd been holding

Seteal's and watched the pieces blow away.

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'Because you have done this,' a voice

thundered throughout the clearing, 'cursed

are you above all living things!' El-i-miir

leapt to her feet and turned toward the

gates. Ilgrin remained transfixed, even as

countless other silts forced their way passed

him. 'You have come to think yourself wiser

than the almighty Maker, you vile, wretched

demon,' the voice continued, everywhere

and nowhere all at once. 'I will cast you out

of Hae'Evun and down upon the Earth.' The

words remembered from El-i-miir's

childhood Holy Tome studies were quoted to

perfection. 'Cursed are you and your

children and your children's children and

your other children to time indefinite,'

Maker thundered fatalistically.

'El-i-miir,' Ilgrin whispered, snapping free

of her spell. 'I cannot enter.' He faced her

with an expression of understanding. 'It

wasn't just Sa'Tan, but his entire bloodline

that was condemned beyond redemption.'

'You can't go!' El-i-miir exclaimed, wiping

the tears from her eyes. 'You're not going to

Hae'Evun!'

Ilgrin dodged passed the other silts as

they continued to flow through the gates. He

stopped abruptly, raising a hand to brush El-

i-miir's hair behind her ear before leaning

down to kiss her. 'We're stuck with you

then?' Jakob smirked.

'It seems that way,' Ilgrin replied, gazing

into El-i-miir's eyes.

'Oh, thank Maker.' El-i-miir buried her

face into his chest, before pulling back very

suddenly. 'But I thought you had to die for

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us?'

'Perhaps someday I will,' Ilgrin replied,

'or maybe Seteal was wrong. But if one day

it happens . . .' He lowered his voice. 'It'll

have been worth it because I love you.'

El-i-miir exhaled softly, satisfied in

hearing the three words that she'd so feared

Ilgrin would never say to her again. 'I love

you, too,' she whispered back.

Ilgrin led El-i-miir and Jakob out of the

clearing with heavy hearts over the loss of

their friend. Seeol's body was forgotten.

Nobody thought to stop and bury the bird

lying alone in the dirt. And why would they?

He was only an elf owl, after all.

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Job 21

25. And this other one will dieth in the

bitterness of his soul, having never known

pleasure.

26. Alone he shall lie down in the dust,

and maggots shall cover over him.

30. That in the day of disaster, who will

tell him that he will not be spared? At the

day of fury, who will tell him that he shall

know none but sorrow?

31. Who shall declare his Way even to his

face? And for all he has done, who shall

speaketh of his reward?

32. Ye shall turn him away as a leper,

claiming ye never knew him.

Scriptures from the Holy Tome

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## EPILOGUE

### SETEAL

THE YEAR 1998AW

El-i-miir sat at the kitchen table, her cup of

tea resting on a frayed doily. Her thinning

white hair framed a sunken face of pasty

wrinkled flesh. The arthritis in her knuckles

made itself known when she lifted her cup

and took a sip. Her mind wandered, but she

could forgive herself that much at the ripe

age of two hundred years.

The gates of Hae'Evun had remained

open for several months, allowing the

affiliated silts of Old World time to pass

through before the black tree returned to its

original position. Word spread that the silt

invasion had come to an end and that Old

World would never again be a problem.

Not having anywhere else to go and out of

respect for Seteal, with Jakob's assistance,

Ilgrin repaired the damage to her house. He

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and El-i-miir moved in shortly thereafter.

Jakob took over a vacant farm nearby and

worked honestly for the rest of his days.

Unable to have children as they were, Ilgrin

and El-i-miir took great pleasure in looking

after his whenever he and his wife desired a

night alone.

Eventually, people took over the vacant

allotments in Elmsville and the town was

repopulated. Naturally it took quite some

time, as people were at first unwilling to live

in a town where a demon had been left

behind. Some even cursed Maker for having

'forgotten one,' but eventually the people

came to tolerate and even respect Ilgrin,

unable as they were to remain blind to his

kind heart and honest character. He'd never

felt it below him to rescue a cat stuck in a

tree or to help out with the heavy lifting

around town.

When Ilgrin died at the age of ninety-

three, El-i-miir was utterly distraught. Her

face was still smooth, her hair thick and

rich. She was still young when they put his

elderly body in the ground. He'd lived a long

life for his kind and El-i-miir supposed that

she should find solace in that. She consoled

herself in the fact that no amount of time

with Ilgrin would've ever been enough and

that everybody had their day to die. She was

heartbroken in the truest sense and soon

found herself unable to remain in Elmsville,

the place having come to remind her too

much of him. So she left, not to return until

she was an old woman.

How the world had changed in El-i-miir's

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lifetime, her family's opinions not being one

of them. They'd never come to visit she and

Ilgrin, despite the fact that Elglair culture

had all but disintegrated. The Frozen Lands

were abandoned, the great structures left to

melt. At first the remaining elders had tried

to bring back order and exclusivity, but the

Elglair were never the same. Children read

about Miss Seteal Eltari in their history

books and how she'd brought salvation to

the world. With that on their minds, the

youth couldn't be made to think negatively

about half-castes. Young people heard the

exciting stories of El-i-miir's and Jil-i-an's

rebellion, ignored their parents, and married

whoever they wanted.

Although El-i-miir approved of the

dissolution of the cruel old laws, she

couldn't help but feel a pang of regret when

her people's time had come to an end. With

interbreeding, the Elglair eye was the first

thing to go and it didn't take long before the

white pupil became very rare indeed--a

feature exclusive to the older generations.

Along with the eye, knowledge of the Ways

also faded. Nobody cared about such old

traditions anymore. The Elglair were

diminished to the occasional quarter-blood

who might have some glimmer of special

insight. Such people often worked at fairs or

for travelling magic shows. They called

themselves psychics, fortune tellers, or

witches, but lacked any true command over

the Ways, unlike the great gils of the past.

When El-i-miir left Elmsville to travel the

world alone, she was stunned to discover

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how much it'd changed. Train tracks

squirmed across the map, making the world

seem so much smaller. She lived through the

industrial revolution and watched a

population boom. Unhindered by whisps and

the constant threat of war, mankind was

able to reach their zenith. There was the

discovery of electricity and the invention of

motor vehicles. Modern architecture

changed cities forever; massive skyscrapers

reached into the clouds where whisps had

once hung forebodingly. Exciting as it was,

however, this new world was not one in

which El-i-miir belonged.

At the age of one hundred and eighty-

seven, she repurchased Seteal's property in

Elmsville. There was a new house on the

land, the older one having been torn down

long ago. The building was a squat, red-

bricked place with a white picket fence. El-i-

miir hated it, but wanted to die where Ilgrin

had. Elmsville itself was no longer an

isolated town, but a small suburb in a

booming metropolis. There El-i-miir had

spent the last thirteen years dotting about

her days, waiting for her time to come.

There was a soft tap at the door followed

by a jangling of keys. The handle was turned

and El-i-miir's aged care worker entered the

gloomy interior. 'It's freezing in here.' Sonia

rubbed her arms, her aura vibrating colours

of discontent. 'I'll just pop the heater on,'

she murmured, heading over to the white

vented box on the wall.

'You needn't fuss,' El-i-miir called, but her

wizened old voice was ignored. 'We'll be

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heading off soon, won't we?' she asked,

excited by the idea of a little trip.

'Here.' Sonia fiddled with the lid of a

plastic container, removing a cupcake

bearing a small pink candle. 'Happy two

hundredth birthday.' She spoke the words

with an expression of awe.

Sonia worked for a healthcare provider

specialising in the needs of the elderly. She

wore glasses, had a pinched nose, and curly

brown hair. As a modern woman in her mid-

thirties, most of the time Sonia wore modest

blouses and blue denim jeans. She'd worked

hard to get the job of taking care of the old

Elglair wretch who wouldn't seem to die and

did her very best at being friendly while

maintaining a professional demeanour. She

threw her keys onto the table and put down

the cupcake in front of El-i-miir. Being a

smoker, it was no surprise that she procured

a lighter from her pocket and lit the candle

with expert precision.

'Thank you, Sonia,' El-i-miir said wearily,

before using her tongue to click her denture

into a more comfortable position. 'You really

needn't have done this.'

'Well, if I don't, who--?' Sonia cut herself

short. She often treated El-i-miir like a child,

but just because she was old, didn't mean

that she was senile.

'I'll eat it later,' El-i-miir muttered after

succeeding in blowing out the candle on her

third attempt. 'I'd like to get going.'

'Right away?' Sonia frowned. 'Are you

sure you're up to it?'

'Just fetch my walker, would you, dear?'

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El-i-miir winced at the pain in her joints as

she got up from the table.

'Here you go,' Sonia replied, wheeling the

four-legged walker over from its place

beside the door. She then headed back to

the heater and switched it off. She paused

for a moment, her eyes fixed on a photo

frame. She was rooted to the spot, staring

long enough for El-i-miir to wheel over with

her walker.

'That's my Ilgrin.' Her voice shook as she

examined the black and white photograph. It

captured Ilgrin in the healthier years of his

life, his age only just having started to show.

El-i-miir was standing beside him, her

appearance scarcely distinguishable from

when they'd first met. Ilgrin's impressive

height and great arching wings must've

been quite a sight for poor Sonia, whose

enthralled aura swirled with astonishment.

'I can't believe such creatures once lived

here,' she said excitedly.

'Don't call them that,' El-i-miir scolded.

'They were people, too, you know. They had

hearts and souls the same as you or I.'

'Of course,' Sonia said apologetically. 'I

meant no disrespect.'

'I know you didn't, dear,' El-i-miir said

with satisfaction.

'What must it have been like?' Sonia

wondered aloud. 'In my history class we

learnt about Old World and the whisp clouds

that existed way back before Hades was

inhabited by people. It all seems so

incredible.'

'What I wouldn't give,' El-i-miir

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whispered, her eyes twinkling as she stared

at Ilgrin's face, 'to fly through the sky in his

arms one last time.'

'You mean . . . he'd fly about with you?'

Sonia gasped. 'You're a brave woman.'

'I trusted him completely.' El-i-miir

sighed. 'I suppose it must all seem rather

scary to you.'

Sonia repositioned the picture and turned

around. 'Shall we go?'

'I'll get my purse,' El-i-miir replied,

turning her walker around.

'I've got it,' Sonia said, skipping around

her and snatching it up from its place in the

kitchen. 'Here you are.'

'Thank you, dear,' El-i-miir replied

bitterly. Such behaviour only served to

remind her of how decrepit she'd become.

Sonia picked up El-i-miir's walker at the

door and put it down outside, before offering

her hand. She ignored the offer, stepped

over the threshold and unsteadily grabbed

the handles. 'You've got a new car,' she

observed as they made their way down the

driveway.

'Do you like it?' Sonia asked, opening the

bright red door and helping El-i-miir inside.

'It's quite lovely, I suppose.' El-i-miir

shrugged and rubbed her nose as it was

irritated by the new car smell. 'Horses were

nicer,' she muttered once Sonia had closed

the door to make her way around the other

side.

The drive wasn't long, the cemetery being

only a block away, but these days El-i-miir

wasn't suited to a walk of even that

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Cael McIntosh

enormity. The women got out of the car and

with some haste made their way to Ilgrin's

gravestone.

El-i-miir turned to Sonia. 'Would you give

me a moment?'

'Sure,' the young woman replied. 'I have

to make a call anyway.' She procured a

phone from her pocket. 'I'll be over by the

gate. Just give me a wave when you're

ready.'

'I will,' El-i-miir replied as the carer

scurried away. She turned her attention to

the stone. 'I don't have any flowers.' She

laughed, knowing Ilgrin couldn't have cared

less. Their lives hadn't exactly been

conventional--a demon and a human in love--

and they'd been through far too many

horrors to worry about such little things as

flowers. 'Oh, my sweet Ilgrin.' She sighed.

The wind picked up, tossing El-i-miir's

hair about her face. The Ways whispered

about her revealing strands of light where

people had earlier stood. The pressure built

up in El-i-miir's ears and she gasped at a

stabbing sensation in her chest. She looked

about in awe, a feeling having overcome her

that she'd thought long ago disappeared.

'Seteal,' she whispered through shaky

lips, but of course there was no response.

There hadn't been since the woman's death,

but El-i-miir knew that in some peculiar way

her friend's spirit had remained bound to

the Earth. Maker had forsaken them, but

Seteal never would.

People knew of Seteal's presence. They

didn't refer to her by name, but ever since

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her death, justice was served whenever it

ought to be. Killers were caught and

prosecuted. Rapists lost their lives in

unfortunate accidents. Thieves had their

possessions stolen by other thieves. The

people unknowingly referred to Seteal as

karma, or the universe, or they toted

expressions like, 'what goes around comes

around.' El-i-miir knew her quite simply as

the Holy Spirit and her friend. Still, it'd been

many years since she personally had felt

Seteal's spiritual presence.

'I've missed you,' she whispered hoarsely.

The breeze pressed up against El-i-miir's

cheek and seemed if only for a moment to

solidify, giving the impression of a kiss. She

touched her cheek with a shaky hand, her

eyes filling with tears. 'I hope you found

your freedom,' she uttered. 'I hope you

found your peace.'

A moment later the presence vanished

and El-i-miir waved at her carer who was

now so wrapped up in private conversation

that she stood leaning against the fence with

her back turned. She called out, but her

voice was too weak to be heard. El-i-miir

guided a translucent strand of affiliation into

Sonia's aura. The young woman turned

around to see herself waving at herself. El-i-

miir severed the link and smiled.

'Sorry about that,' Sonia panted, after

jogging up the hill. 'Are you ready to go?'

'I want to go to the tree,' El-i-miir

murmured in response, Seteal's recent

occurrence having left an indelible mark.

'The Eltari Tree?'

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Cael McIntosh

'Yes, of course,' El-i-miir said, guiding her

walker down the gentle slope.

A short drive later, she found herself

approaching a black tree that was

rediscovered when Narvon Wood was cut

down for residential development. Given its

unique history, the tree had been protected

and surrounded by a small fence so that

people could come and view it. Since then it

had become a significant tourist attraction.

The fabled black tree of the gates of

Hae'Evun loomed above a crowd of

onlookers. No longer was it surrounded by

the intense morbidity that El-i-miir

remembered, but never had a tourist been

caught smiling in close proximity. Time

moved strangely about the tree and one

could easily lose track of it, lost in

melancholia.

El-i-miir stared at the bark for a long time

in remembrance of what Seteal had done.

She still had no idea how the woman had

accomplished it. They'd always thought that

the gates required a key, but somehow

Seteal had bypassed that need. One moment

she'd been cradling Seeol as the little bird

died and in the next moment the gates had

opened. Something about that gave El-i-miir

reason to pause, but she couldn't quite put

her finger on what it was, so she dismissed

the peculiar feeling and went home. There

was no need to dally too long on the memory

of a long-dead bird.

*

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The wind lifted. The Ways churned about

the foreboding black tree reaching out of the

dirt like an ancient claw. Around it nothing

grew. The clouds above were dark and

heavy. Sheets of lightning roamed within

them. The spirit focused on the tree and the

wind picked up to such a pace that it could

be heard howling through the branches, the

pitch elevating to become more reminiscent

of a woman's cry than that of any natural

occurrence. And there the Ways felt bitter

remorse for an injustice to which amends

could never be made. There was the place

where the ethereal spirit had caused such

injustice to transpire. And so she sang her

song of regret, forever mourning, never

free.

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Revelation 22

21. And such is the dance of the inner

circle.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cael McIntosh is the author of The Inner

Circle trilogy and is currently working on

several other projects. Having been born

and raised as a Jehovah's Witness, only to

leave the faith in his early twenties, he has

developed a unique perspective on religion

and its implications. From that, along with

other life experiences, he finds inspiration

for his tales. It is his greatest hope that his

works will inspire people to analyze and

question their beliefs from an unbiased

perspective.

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