‘Ouch,’ Ilgrin slapped Seeol off before slipping over in the mud. ‘El-i-miir . . . is she okay?’ His voice bore concern.
‘So you does still have some of a heart.’ Seeol bobbed his head. ‘But I won’t tell you. You is not deserving to know. You have become too naughty.’
Teah stepped forward, her curiosity having gotten the better of her. ‘What an interesting little bird.’
‘There’s nothing interesting about it,’ Ilgrin snapped, staring into Seeol’s eyes. ‘It’s just a whisp-mutated owl. Why don’t you fly away, Seeol. No one wants you here. Go back to Seteal and El-i-miir. Oh, but wait, that’s right, they don’t want you either. In fact, nobody does.’
‘You is very cruel,’ Seeol shouted before leaping into the night.
*
Noah crept through the trees beside the road, stalking three young women hurrying fearfully through the northern gates. He remembered one of them: the Elglair girl. El-i-miir had been taken prisoner by the affiliates when she’d come to Hades in search of Ilgrin. Yes, he remembered now. It was very clear she loved him, as disgusting as that was. Noah scratched his chin and watched her close, wandering whether it was possible Ilgrin had ever felt the same way about the feeble human.
El-i-miir’s head snapped back in his direction and Noah froze, hoping the trees would be sufficient in keeping him hidden. A moment later she shook her head and hurried after the others. He would have to be careful about keeping his distance. He of all people knew what the Elglair were capable of. He wanted to crush her. He wanted to kill her and roll about in her blood, but he needed to resist such urges. He knew it was the whisp that’d made him think in such ways. If Noah wanted to regain his legion, he’d have to keep his head clear.
El-i-miir was the answer. Noah was sure of it. She was Elglair, but Ilgrin would refuse to kill her. Showing such weakness just might be enough to turn the legion against him. Noah smiled. But not yet. First he had to satisfy the urges that came with his new body. Noah slunk away into the dark looking for a stray human he might be able to kill.
*
Ilgrin pushed against the door and was satisfied to hear it creak open. He stepped into the dark interior, knowing that the palace was quite safe, having already been searched. Still, he refused to light a candle or lantern, for some reason favouring the dark. He made his way through the large building silently opening doors as he came to them before continuing on.
One door squeaked and Ilgrin froze when he eyed the interior. There was a small bed, low to the ground, with a pink bedspread. A doll with one eye had her head rested on the pillow and boasted a dopey smile. Her pigtails looked as though they’d been brushed recently. Ilgrin stepped over to the bed and sat down. He picked up the doll and stared into her eye. It was only when a wet tear sank into her cotton face that Ilgrin realised he’d been crying. Before long deep sobs wracked his body and he breathed in shuddering gasps.
Ilgrin had grown up in a bedroom not dissimilar to the one in which he now sat.
If the blanket had been brown and there’d been pictures of dragons on the walls, the room could’ve been his. Ilgrin had loved dragons as a little boy. He read fantasy books about them and dreamed of a world in which they existed. Perhaps among humans he felt a kinship with the fearsome leathery-winged creatures. Certainly now, he felt more similar to a dragon than he ever had before. Who was the child that belonged to this room? Had her mother or father been killed? Was she scared out there in the dark, placed under the guard of nightmare monsters?
In a fit of rage, Ilgrin tore off the doll’s head and slammed the pieces down either side of him. Mankind had betrayed him again and again. If only they’d loved him. If only they’d been fair to him, he might’ve never been driven to such extremes. It was their fault!
‘I’m so sorry, Briel,’ Ilgrin whispered quietly, removing the crown from his belt and tossing it across the ground. ‘You didn’t deserve it.’
How would poor Fes be coping with her husband’s passing? Ilgrin pictured the big man smiling and holding his wife. Those two had represented what any young couple dreamt of . . . what he could never have with El-i-miir.
‘Ilgrin?’ Teah said softly as she entered the room. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ Ilgrin quickly wiped his nose and stood up. ‘I’m just perfect.’
‘I’m sure it can’t be easy,’ Teah said softly, putting a reassuring hand on his chest.
‘It’s not.’ Ilgrin stepped forward, nuzzling his face into her neck and wrapping his arms around her. He tried not to touch the wings if he could avoid it. They made it difficult to imagine that she was El-i-miir. ‘Be with me.’ He kissed her neck, picturing El-i-miir’s pale pink flesh and the scent of her dizzying perfume. His hand moved steadily down her neck to open the top of Teah’s dress.
‘Oh, Ilgrin,’ Teah panted, her voice quivering with desire as she moved her hand over the front of his pants.
Losing all patience, Ilgrin tore open Teah’s dress and held her breasts. He kissed her neck, slowly reaching lower and lower until his mouth found her nipple. He kissed it gently, before moving back to Teah’s mouth and kissing her deeply. Teah tore at Ilgrin’s belt and unbuttoned his pants, which fell to the ground and tangled around his feet. He stumbled backward into the wall and heard it crack as he made an impacted.
After a short struggle, Ilgrin heard Teah’s dress slip away entirely and she pushed her hot, naked body against his. Again they locked lips passionately before tumbling onto the little pink bed. Teah’s hand slid down the length of Ilgrin’s chest and stomach until she found her mark. She manoeuvred him into her and Ilgrin was unable to help but immediately thrust deep. Teah moaned as the two became locked in ecstasy, their bodies moving to the beat of passionate lust.
Ilgrin ached for the pleasure of being touched in such a way, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut for fear of catching a glimpse of his lover. The angel was one of the most beautiful creatures Ilgrin had ever laid eyes upon, but she was not El-i-miir. He grunted as he pushed into her. El-i-miir’s beautiful blue Elglair eyes filled his mind. Her supple lips touched his. He buried his face into her neck. She released a gasp of climactic pleasure, and a moment later so did he.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE GATHERING WINDS
Jakob kicked his horse to a gallop, having chosen to give Kintor a wide berth. He didn’t want to risk running into Ilgrin. After all, he’d been ordered to remain in Hel and assist the mothers and children. Such orders were an insult after everything Jakob had done for that silt. Just because he was human, didn’t make him useless. Jakob knew what was coming and had family in Beldin who he still felt somewhat responsible for.
Ilgrin had lost his mind, originally only wishing to defend against the Elglair and then choosing to attack the Elglair. Now he wanted to take over the entirety of New World. And Jakob had little doubt that he could accomplish it with a legion so powerful as Hel. Oh, he’d said all the right things. He’d nodded and agreed. It was in a Sa’Tanist’s best interest to agree with their Devil at all times. Jakob was all about self-preservation, but Ilgrin had gone too far. Never had there been a Devil before him willing to wage war on the entire human race.
Something struck Jakob’s chest with enough force to knock the wind out of him. His horse continued galloping, but Jakob hovered in mid-air, the front of his shirt clutched in a huge grey fist. Noah’s foul breath blew across his face as the mutant demon lowered his horned head.
‘What a surprise,’ his deep voice rumbled. ‘You’ll do nicely for supper.’
‘Noah,’ Jakob choked. ‘No!’ Noah opened his mouth to reveal razor sharp teeth that he lowered toward Jakob’s throat. ‘I’ll do anything. I can get you Ilgrin,’ he pleaded.
‘I don’t want Ilgrin,’ Noah rumbled as he pulled away, his face lighting up with an idea. ‘I want his girlfriend.’
‘What?’
‘There is an Elglair affiliate farther along this road,’ Noah said. ‘I want her.’
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‘How am I supposed to capture an affiliate?’ Jakob recoiled at the impossibility of his task.
‘I’d suggest you start by gaining her trust,’ Noah replied chillingly. ‘Just make sure to have her at the southern gates of Belos when Ilgrin’s legion attacks the city. I’ll be watching you. I know exactly how slippery a Sa’Tanist you can be, but don’t dare make the mistake of trying to escape me. It would cost you very dearly.’
‘As you wish, Noah.’ Jakob swallowed nervously as the giant beast lowered him to the ground.
‘Noah is dead,’ the beast replied. ‘My name is Sa’Tan.’
*
‘My ladies,’ a young man’s voice called out from behind. Suspicious of just about everything, Seteal turned to eye off the blond, curly-haired man. ‘I see you’re in need of a mount,’ he said confidently.
‘Who are you?’ Seteal narrowed her eyes as she removed Parrowun from her breast and wiped his chin.
‘I’ve escaped the city. Much like yourselves.’ The young man smiled broadly. ‘As you can see, I have a spare horse. These animals are all I have so when I fled I took them with me, but I only need the one.’
‘You’re lying,’ El-i-miir said softly. ‘You weren’t even in the city.’
‘Quite right.’ The man laughed nervously. ‘You must be a very powerful gil.’
‘Actually no.’ El-i-miir narrowed her eyes. ‘I never graduated.’
‘I certainly wasn’t in the city.’ Jakob smiled reassuringly. ‘I skirted past it. Having seen what was coming, I had no desire to get involved.’
El-i-miir nodded, satisfied by his adjusted answer. ‘And you’ve decided to offer us your horses out of the goodness of your heart?’
‘Well, no.’ The man frowned. ‘Have you ever tried riding one horse while guiding another? It’s rather slow going. If you could ride my spare animal I’m sure we’d both benefit.’
‘I’m Seteal.’ She finally smiled, approaching to shake the man’s hand.
‘Jakob.’ The young man nodded back. ‘If the young lady wouldn’t mind, she could share my mount . . .’ He nodded toward Ieane who blushed and proceeded to introduce herself. El-i-miir climbed reluctantly onto the spare horse in front of Seteal. ‘So where are you heading?’ Jakob asked, encouraging his horse to a trot.
‘Gor Na--’ Ieane began, only to be cut off by El-i-miir.
‘Belos for now,’ she intervened.
‘It’s a terrible affair, this Old World invasion, isn’t it?’ Jakob said in a clear attempt at small talk.
‘Perhaps more so for us than for you,’ El-i-miir sneered.
‘El-i-miir!’ Seteal reprimanded. Clearly the woman had developed a dislike for the poor man, or maybe she was just upset about Briel.
‘No, no.’ Jakob shook his head. ‘Your friend is right. I’d imagine that the Devil has a special vendetta against the Elglair. I’ve heard that your people had some involvement with angel possession.’
‘You sure know a lot for a commoner,’ El-i-miir said suspiciously.
‘Well, you know how it is.’ Jakob shrugged. ‘Idle pub talk spreads like fire.’
‘I don’t think you even drink,’ El-i-miir mused.
‘You are very good.’ Jakob clapped his hands together.
‘She can detect any lie,’ Ieane piped in.
‘That’s enough out of you, thanks, Ieane,’ El-i-miir snapped abrasively. There was a short silence thereafter, before El-i-miir once again turned to Jakob. ‘You look familiar to me. Have we met?’
‘I imagine an Elglair as powerful as yourself feels that she’s met most people before actually doing so,’ the man said slowly and with a sense of caution that made Seteal feel nervous.
‘Actually, no,’ El-i-miir pursed her lips, but didn’t pursue the conversation any further. ‘Oh, Maker,’ she gasped before ducking her head forward.
‘Are you okay?’ Seteal asked. Parrowun squirmed uneasily in his sling.
‘Yes, I . . .’ El-i-miir sneezed into her hand, which remained obscured from Seteal’s vision. Parrowun’s face flushed red and it crinkled up. He started to cry. ‘I’m sure it’s just a nose bleed,’ El-i-miir said softly as Seteal attempted to comfort her son. She caught a glimpse of El-i-miir’s hand and saw that it was spattered with blood.
‘El-i-miir,’ Ieane’s face filled with fear when a droplet of blood fell from her nose as well.
‘What in Maker’s name is going on?’ Jakob spat onto the road and Seteal noted his saliva to be tinted red.
‘Stop the horse!’ Seteal cried.
‘I don’t understand.’ El-i-miir sneezed again, spraying the horse’s main.
‘Stop the Maker-forsaken horse!’ Seteal shouted as she threw her leg over the side of the animal and toppled to the ground.
‘What are you doing!?’ Ieane squeaked.
‘Just get away from me!’ Seteal cried over her shoulder as she raced into the woods beside the road.
‘Seteal!’ El-i-miir shouted after her but didn’t follow. Her voice faded into the distance as Seteal ran through the undergrowth, Parrowun wailing in her arms.
‘Shh.’ Seteal stroked his head. ‘Mommy’s here. Mommy loves you.’ She rocked the child back and forth, kissing him on the forehead and clutching him tight. ‘It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,’ she whispered as slowly Parrowun regained his calm, dark eyes gazing up at her adoringly. Something snapped in the middle-distance and Seteal squinted against the harsh sunlight through the trees. She took a step back toward the road, satisfied that Parrowun would behave.
The loud snapping sound, similar to that of branches breaking caught Seteal’s attention a second time. She turned around and squinted again through the trees. There was something. She lifted a hand against the penetrating sun to catch a glimpse of what seemed like a bulky, grey animal. Certain that her mind was playing tricks, Seteal cast her eyes over the strange shape until she reached the top. It was then that she saw it had an eye and realised that it appeared to be focused her.
Despite the thundering of her heart, Seteal was determined not to disturb Parrowun. She turned as calmly as she dared and hurried back to the road. The grey thing didn’t follow and by the time she reached the others, she realised it was probably just her mind and the sun playing tricks on her after all.
‘What was that all about?’ El-i-miir frowned. ‘You didn’t think we’d caught what Fes had, did you?’
‘Let’s just go,’ Seteal muttered, relieved to see that her friends and Jakob were now free of the bloody discharge. With a hand from El-i-miir, she leapt back onto the horse and they continued on their way.
‘What if we’d been dying,’ El-i-miir murmured. ‘You’d just run away? Honestly, Seteal, the better I get to know you, the more peculiar you become.’
Ignoring El-i-miir’s comment, Seteal cast a glance back into woods where once again, if only for a second, she thought she glimpsed the grey beast as it moved parallel to them. But she was just imagining things. Seteal often saw Master Fasil right before her eyes. It didn’t mean he was really there.
She looked into Parrowun’s big eyes and was surprised to find him smiling up at her. His tiny arm wriggled out of the blanket and he curled his tight little fingers around Seteal’s thumb. Her heart melted at the sight. He was so tiny and yet already so strong. The grey beast vanished from Seteal’s mind as she stared at her son with a heart full of pride.
*
Far-a-mael watched his new hadoan of thousands gathering in the plains above Esp. He smiled, but immediately regretted the decision as his lip tore open and some black gunk spilt onto his gown. He tried to wipe it away, but his hand only added a smear of puss to the garment. Grumbling disparagingly, Far-a-mael turned his attention back to the hadoan. Vague glimmers of light momentarily flickered into existence before his eyes as the Ways churned about their eternal dance. All too soon, the weaving vanished and Far-a-mael was left as blind as any ordinary human.
‘It’s time to get these men marching.’ F
ar-a-mael turned, only to find his new sy’hadoan had vanished. The boy had a weak stomach and seemed almost always on the verge of throwing up in the presence of his War Elder.
‘Do I have to do everything myself?’ Far-a-mael shook his head and kicked his horse down the hill. He didn’t dare try affiliation, not in his present state. Far-a-mael had lasted a great deal longer than he’d expected, but didn’t imagine his luck was going to hold out. His dream was to return to Old World and see Hel in the hands of the Elglair, but he was determined to at least make it so far as Beldin where he could recruit more New World soldiers to the cause.
‘Das-nil!’ Far-a-mael shouted when he spotted the sy’hadoan. ‘Sound the marching trumpet.’
‘Yes, War Elder Far-a-mael.’ The boy turned and scurried away as quickly as he dared. Moments later the trumpet blew and a sea of horses and their riders surged forward.
‘Onward to Beldin,’ Far-a-mael said tiredly.
CHAPTER THIRTY
DISRUPTION
El-i-miir wandered through her frozen dream. Great and unusual ice structures rose up around her, making her feel impossibly small among them. Before her was a blue glass flower. It had been trodden on by a thousand feet. Its stem had snapped and its petals had shattered. ‘He’s coming,’ hissed the wind. Bathed in the shadow of immense structures, El-i-miir picked up the sharp remains of the glass flower. She put it close to her nose, but the ordinarily pleasant scent had become a bitter odour.
‘Wake up. He’s coming,’ mourned the Ways.
A tear slid down El-i-miir’s cheek as the musty smell of reality entered her nostrils. She ignored the pull, preferring to remain in this sad representation of the Frozen Lands. It was still home . . . after a fashion. ‘Get up. Run,’ the words screamed in her mind. The sun began to rise in the east and the tops of the tallest sculptures started melting. El-i-miir realised she had nothing on her feet when cold water began to trickle up between her toes.
‘Get up and run,’ El-i-miir whispered to herself. ‘It’s Jakob. He’s a Sa’Tanist. He’s coming for you.’