The Record of the Saints Caliber (62 page)

The Oracle tilted its head. “Another Saint, you say?”

Nuriel bit her lip. “Yes. She was…she was different. None of us knew her.”

“Different? In what way?”

“I…I don’t know.” said Nuriel. “She…she was…”

“What was her name?”

Nuriel bit her lip and looked at the Oracle. “She said her name was Celacia.”

Suddenly the Sin Eaters went silent and even the Oracle seemed to become more attentive. Nuriel looked down at the dirt road and with her foot scraped out Celacia’s strange stellaglyph. “That was her star.”

The Oracle looked down at it silently and the Sin Eaters cringed and seemed to withdraw behind the Oracle as they huddled and whispered in the night.

“She…she killed the others.” said Nuriel. “I…I tried to fight her but…but when I touched her my hand withered. She…she killed everybody without even touching them. I…I tried to fight her but…I…I don’t remember…”

The Oracle looked back at Nuriel and she could see her warped reflection in its silver mask. She bit her lip, trying to figure out if it believed her or not. It betrayed no hint of anything. It just stood there looking at her with that faceless, silver mask.

“You don’t remember what?” prompted the Oracle at last.

“I…I just remember falling and then everything going black.” said Nuriel. “I thought I was dead, but then I woke up a few days later.”

“I see.” said the Oracle. “The news of this…
rogue
Saint named Celacia is disconcerting to say the least. I am afraid we are going to have to take you back to Sanctuary, Nuriel.”

Nuriel felt her stomach drop out.
Did it believe her? Did it know she was lying?
Worse,
did it know the truth?
“I…but…I mean…you, believe me, right?”

“We did detect the death of an Unbound demon recently,” said the Oracle. “However, the news of—”

Just then there was an intense brightness in the night sky. Nuriel looked up, and in the southern sky there was a white streak that was gone in an instant, followed by what sounded like the roar of a dragon. Nuriel’s mouth opened.

It was a falling star.

She knew it. She had seen a falling star. Another star had fallen from the sky, and she had actually seen it happen. She had heard about them, but never before had she seen one.

“It would seem our trip to Sanctuary must now be delayed, Saint Nuriel.” said the Oracle. The Sin Eaters all began pulling papers and brass compasses from their robes and looking at the sky with astrolabes and other tools. The Oracle looked at the Sin Eaters and said with some haste, “South by south-west, three-degrees. Two-hundred miles. The star was Draco-Novem.” The Oracle looked at the two Clerical Guardsmen and said, “Inform the church. Tell father Erinys to send word to Sanctuary. Tell him it was Draco-Novem that fell. We’ll need horses ready. We must leave tonight.”

“Yes, sir!” said the guards in unison, and with a clap of their armor they turned and hurried down the street.

“What…what’s going on?” asked Nuriel. “Was…was that a falling star? Did we just see a star fall from the sky?”

The Oracle turned to Nuriel. It seemed to mull something over in its mind momentarily before saying, “Saint Nuriel, there have been a number of uprisings throughout Jerusa as of late. The people didn’t take too kindly to Gatima declaring a steel shortage last month. There is a caer—a small town—just south-east from here. Caer Gatima. Seems the people there have done quite a job taking the city for themselves. They’ve already burned the church and killed Father Tarask and his clerics. Saints Adonael, Ovid and Hadraniel are here, on their way there in the morning. I would like you to join their constellation and quell the uprising there.”

Nuriel pursed her lips. The name Adonael was a familiar one. He was the boy who tossed her cat out the window. Being as no Saints ever shared the same name, not even after death, it had to be the same Adonael.

“They’re at the church house now, I believe.” said the Oracle. “Please, meet up with them tonight and report for duty.”

“But…what about Gatima and Sanctuary?” asked Nuriel. “I…I don’t want to be recalled.”

“Don’t worry about that.” said the Oracle. “I’ll send word to Gatima and Sanctuary about what you’ve told me. Eventually, however, we’re going to have to get some more information from you. The news of this Saint you call Celacia is quite troubling.”

Nuriel nodded. “Understood.”

“Thank you very much, Nuriel.” said the Oracle with a slight bow. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mentor, as well as the others. I’m sure it’s been quite hard on you.”

Nuriel diverted her eyes and nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

“Once you finish your work in Caer Gatima, report directly to Gatimaria.” said the Oracle. “And Nuriel, do not speak a word of what you have told me to anybody. Not even King Gatima. If anybody asks, the others died fighting the demon Yig, and you narrowly escaped.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

A long fence of rusty iron spikes, patrolled by a large number of Clerical Guard, separated the church from the rest of the city. Here the roads were paved with nice stones and illuminated by lamp posts that flickered with yellow-green gaslight. The surrounding homes were brightly lit and inviting and Nuriel knew that the clergy, their guards and higher ranking city officials all lived here. The church was definitely original construction to the city and was the only such structure still completely intact. Its gothic demeanor and high spires seemed at odds with the surrounding homes of more modern timber and brick construction. Upon its front, beneath the bell tower, was a large, circular stained glass picture of Aeoria with her arms spread wide. Lining the walls were tall, narrow stained glass windows depicting modern Saints, including one of Umbrial that made Nuriel cringe. She looked away but she swore she could feel his accusing eyes following her as she went around to the back of the church.

Most churches had a residence for Saints, as did this one. A set of stone steps led up to a large building of original construction that was connected to the church. There was a pair of heavy, oaken doors banded with decorative bronze straps, and above it, a gold plaque with the Star of Aeoria upon it. Nuriel pulled them open and stepped into a spacious chamber.

A fire blazed in a giant fireplace and a wooden table was set with freshly cooked foods and a couple decanters of water and wine. Sitting around the table were three Saints in their leather bodysuits and black Star-Armor. Two of them—one with hair and eyes as shiny and black as polished obsidian, and the other with hair and eyes as silver as Isley’s—sat reclining in their chairs as they watched a number of half-starved naked women attempting to dance provocatively for them. The third Saint was laughing as he sat reclined in his chair, his star-metal boots up on the table. He tossed a grape at one of the dancing women and it bounced off her forehead. She looked down at it hungrily as it fell to the stone floor.

“Go ahead, eat it you dumb bitch.” said Adonael. His hair and eyes were as ruby-red as Nuriel remembered. The woman began to bend over for the grape when Adonael yelled at her. “Turn around so we can see your ass.” He threw a few more and they bounced off her boney butt cheeks. He laughed as she scrambled to pick the grapes up, shoving them in her mouth as fast as she could. The other women looked on expectantly—ravenously—through their long, dirty hair. They stood around the room swaying and twisting sheepishly, their skeletal frames and withered breasts leaving little to desire.

The Saint with the chrome hair and eyes grabbed a couple rolls from the table and tossed them at the women. Five scrambled for them, fighting and pushing and clawing over the two measly buns.

The Saint with the black hair and eyes grabbed a few more rolls and tossed them out for the others. “Eat.” he said, his voice as deep and cold as the ocean depths.

Adonael laughed as the women clutched greedily at the rolls, shoving them into their mouths as fast as they could. They cautiously eyed the Saints, as if they feared their meal might be ripped from their grasps. “If that bread makes you thirsty I’ve got something for you to drink,” said Adonael, motioning at his crotch as he lay reclined with his legs on the table. “They call it milk of the Saints. Good for what ails you.” He laughed and grabbed a vine of grapes and threw it at one of the women. “Come suck me off and I’ll give you some of this here—”

Adonael toppled into the table and it all came crashing down on him as Nuriel’s fist slammed into his cheek with all the force of Caliber she could muster. She thought she might have even felt his jaw break. The other two Saints shot up from their chairs in the blink of an eye, their weapons drawn, as the surprised women—still bold enough to take their food with them—all scuttled into the corner near the fireplace.

“That’s for my cat.” spat Nuriel. She kicked the downed Adonael in the ribs, her star-metal boot clanking loudly against his breastplate. “And that’s just because I don’t like you.”

Adonael’s red eyes shone wide with stunned surprise as he looked up from the floor and mess of food he was covered in. His surprise quickly melted into a smile as he came to recognize Nuriel’s snarling face. He stood up and wiped the splattered food from his armor, the whole time looking at Nuriel, smiling brightly. He was about a foot taller than she, and taller than the other two Saints as well. He rubbed his jaw, encompassing it with golden Caliber energy as he healed the bruised tissue and broken bone.

“Nuriel. Long time no see.” he said when at last his jaw was back to normal. He opened and closed his mouth a few times to test it out. He shook his head and looked back down at her. “You’re still upset with me I can see, but seems you’ve grown bold enough to at least tell me so.”

“Ex-girlfriend?” asked the Saint with silver hair as he sheathed his sword. His companion with the obsidian hair did the same.

Adonael laughed. “Nah. I couldn’t even get her to give me a kiss. She’s mad ‘cause I threw her cat out the window.”

The silver haired Saint chuckled. “Don’t mess with a woman’s pussy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Adonael huffed a laugh and smiled down at Nuriel, his ruby eyes raking over her.

“Saint Nuriel, pleased to make your acquaintance. Well, certainly more pleased than Adonael anyway, and I’d like to keep it that way.” said the Saint with silver hair. He bowed deeply. “I am Saint Hadraniel.”

“Saint Ovid,” said the Saint with the black hair and eyes, bowing slightly. He had an eerily calm and cold presence about him, and his eyes lingered on Nuriel. His voice was deep and resonant as he spoke. “You must be back from the dead. There’s been talk that a number of Saints might recently have fallen or died. Your name was among them.”

Nuriel returned his glare. “We ran into an Unbound named Yig and he got the best of us. So yeah, I suppose I am back from the dead.”

“Your mentor Isley.” asked Ovid. “Did he fall or did he die?”

“Isley, Tia, Umbrial, Gamalael and Arric all died in battle.” said Nuriel coldly. “None of them fell. They all died in honor to Sanctuary’s service.”

Ovid nodded with something like approval. “Many thought Isley would fall one day. I’m glad to hear he died with honor.”

Adonael rubbed Nuriel’s shoulder and said, “Sorry to hear that. I fought an Unbound about two years ago with Saint Asaph. He didn’t make it out either.”

Nuriel sniffled and tucked her hair behind her ear and turned away from him. “Yeah, well, we all die in the line of duty at some point, I guess.”

Adonael nodded. “So what brings you here?”

“I’m supposed to join your constellation and help quell the uprising in Caer Gatima.” said Nuriel.

“We’re leaving at first light.” said Adonael. “I’ll be glad to have you. This won’t be as easy as it usually is. Word is that the townsfolk already overthrew the church and Gatima’s soldiers. They all have bolt-throwers and who knows what else. They’ve walled themselves up and are prepared to fight.”

Nuriel sniffled and nodded her head. She bit her lip and looked at Adonael. “Do you guys got any Ev?”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty.” said Adonael. “This church is pretty well stocked. Take what you need before we leave.”

Nuriel felt relief wash over her. “Where is it?”

“I’ll show you.” said Hadraniel. “Father Erinys keeps it all—”

“What’s going on out there?” asked Ovid, he gestured toward the window where the shadowy forms of Sin Eaters carrying lanterns were scrambling back and forth. The muffled voice of the Oracle could be heard shouting orders as well.

Nuriel frowned. “When I arrived there was a falling star.” said Nuriel. All eyes turned to her. “I think it put the Oracle and Sin Eaters on edge.”

“Yeah, that’ll get their dander up.” said Hadraniel. “Hopefully it wasn’t over anywhere we’re going.”

Nuriel looked at Hadraniel. “Why?”

“It’ll be swarming with Sin Eaters and Oracles, that’s why.” said Adonael. “And if they even think you saw something, you’ll disappear real quick.”

Nuriel’s brow furled. “Why? What happens where a star falls?”

Hadraniel shrugged. “Who knows. Who cares. All I know is you don’t go there until things quiet down.”

Ovid nodded. “I saw what happens once. It was shortly after I received my Call to Guard. I was mentoring with Saint Lucretius in Valdasia and we saw a star fall far to the west. We decided to go see. By the time we got there the Oracles and Sin Eaters were already there. They had killed all the villagers and they carried something off with them. What, I don’t know. I never saw it. We only heard from some of the escapees. Told us they took something from one of the houses and killed anybody who might have seen what it was.”