Read The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit Online

Authors: Cael McIntosh

Tags: #friendship, #murder, #death, #demon, #religion, #sex, #angel, #war, #holy spirit, #owl

The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit (27 page)

The dark figures tore through the night
sky, their wings becoming increasingly loud as they approached.
‘Catapults,’ Far-a-mael called and was satisfied to hear his orders
being repeated down the lines of men. The silts came closer and
closer, soon filling up the sky and causing the men to shuffle
nervously.


Fire!’ Far-a-mael
shouted.

Massive stones were launched into
the air targeted at the steadily approaching legion. Many silts
were able to dive out of the way. Others were less fortunate.
Far-a-mael smiled as limp bodies sprayed across the sky, but his
smile was lost as others pursued and resurrected them before they
could hit the ground.


Archers!’ Far-a-mael
called, satisfied in the knowledge that many of the arrows had been
tipped with silver. ‘Fire!’

Thousands of arrows whistled toward the
silt legion and soon a spray of the creatures fell like rain from
the air. At first others went after them, but when their attempts
at resurrection failed, they knew that they’d been bested.
Realising that the time was short to use his greatest advantage,
Far-a-mael ran over to the nearest catapult and ordered the
operators to load the black powder bombs. They were a new invention
introduced to him by the alchemists of Jenjol, but Far-a-mael was
satisfied by their capacity for destruction.


Fire!’ he roared.
Weighted capsules of burning black powder sailed through the air.
Several failed to explode. Others whizzed through the ranks of
silts and exploded too late . . . but others. Far-a-mael laughed in
the glory of it all as the capsules blew up: thunderous balls of
fire. Countless silts were incinerated, instantly rendering them
far too dead to resurrect. Others fell away, screaming and burning.
Some of them tried to keep flying, but quickly lost their
strength.


Isn’t it beautiful,
Sar-ni,’ Far-a-mael sang out joyously. ‘It’s all for
you!’

Then came the return fire and
Far-a-mael ceased his rejoice. Silt arrows rained down upon the
great army of New World. Men threw up shields while others were
struck dead.


Fire at will!’
Far-a-mael shouted furiously as the silt legion started flaring
wings for descent.

Far-a-mael took the opportunity to
squint into the distance. There he saw something that brought a
grim smile to his decay-hardened and cracking lips. Twenty horses
galloped with their twenty Elglair riders. The Sa’Tanist
affiliates. He’d waited so long to meet them in battle. Craning his
neck, Far-a-mael caught a glimpse of several silts flying rather
cumbersomely, a familiar glimmer of angelic light occasionally
flashing into existence above them.

A man several strides to
Far-a-mael’s left was the first to be taken into the air. A demon
thrust out his metal taloned feet and tore the soldier into the
sky. There the creature ripped him in half and allowed the pieces
to fall. Blood sprayed across Far-a-mael’s face as he tore free his
pistol with one hand and his sword with the other. A Jenjen soldier
fell screaming in fits of agony before dying, white mist forcing
its way from his flesh.

Flaring his wings, a demon landed
before Far-a-mael. ‘You think to attack Hades and live?’ The
creature laughed and swung his scythe.


I do.’ Far-a-mael
evaded the weapon easily and burrowed into the creature’s aura. A
moment later the silt hit the ground begging for mercy and crying
like a child. Far-a-mael took his sword and ploughed it through the
demon’s heart. He smiled in satisfaction as its disgusting blue
blood spilled onto the grass.


Stop this!’ a
familiar voice cried. ‘How could you? You haves trickst
us.’

Far-a-mael turned around in time to see
Seeol slam into him bodily. The two tumbled across the grass to the
sound of Far-a-mael’s breaking bones.


Get off me.’
Far-a-mael wrestled through mud and blood in an attempt to push
Seeol away.


You trickst me!’ The
man’s face was red as he screamed. ‘This ones are my friendlies. My
friendlies! You is an evil, nasty monster.’


Get off me.’
Far-a-mael punched Seeol in the face, having to resort to physical
violence in the absence of an aura. He heard some of his knuckles
popping with the impact.


Ouch,’ Seeol moaned,
holding his nose tentatively.


I don’t want to kill
you.’ Far-a-mael put his pistol between Seeol’s eyes. ‘Don’t leave
me without a choice.’


You is killing my
frienssshh,’ Seeol sobbed and as he did so his tongue changed shape
to that of an elf owl’s. At the same time a silt hit the ground
behind him and swung her sword.


Watch out.’
Far-a-mael tried to aim his pistol around the young man, but
couldn’t manage a clear shot.


Ish!’ Seeol cried
unintelligibly, scratching at his mouth and bending over in pain.
The sword flew over his head, spun in a complete circle--its owner
having lost her grip--and plunged deep into the silt’s throat. She
fell to the earth, her eyes closing in death.

Panting loudly, Far-a-mael turned
in a full circle to take in the destruction around him. Countless
New World soldiers squirmed on the ground under attack by possessed
angels, sieifts flooding away from their bodies as they died.
Strands of light snapped about the air like whips as gil’hadoans
danced expertly through the fray twisting and distorting silt auras
as they went. Men were snatched from the ground between the
razor-sharp talons of demons that hauled them into the sky only to
be dropped from dizzying heights. Deadly black mist rose up from
the battlefield as time after time the silts resurrected their
fallen. A cloud of darkness billowed across the earth, opening up a
gaping hole that swallowed countless soldiers who fell screaming
into the abyss. A whisp sank into Elglair flesh and transformed the
man into a hideous monster that roared and tore the heads off
anyone who got close.


Far-a-mael.’
Tim-a-nie rushed over, slicing his sword through the belly of a
silt as he went. ‘We must make the call now. We’re losing too
many.’


Yes.’ Far-a-mael
swallowed. ‘It’s time.’


Shtop it,’ Seeol
gargled as he scurried off hunched over into the fray. Those who
pursued him fell on their own swords or met an equally as unlikely
fate.


Give it to me,’
Far-a-mael reached out to take the horn from Tim-a-nie. He put it
to his lips and blew.

 

*

 

Seteal watched from the back of the
wagon as man and silt fought for their lives. She huddled behind a
pile of crates, fearing what would happen should she be revealed.
There were silts out there with powers unlike anything she’d seen
before. One of the formidable creatures killed a Jenjen soldier
before her eyes and it struck Seteal as odd in some distant part of
her mind. The strange silts only attacked the Jenjen and other New
World soldiers, but never the Elglair.

As a Jenjen soldier’s head hit the
grass and white mist swept away from his flesh. Seteal gasped
disbelievingly at what could only be described as a white whisp.
The silt’s head snapped in her direction and it lumbered toward the
back of the wagon. Seteal scurried back into the depths, but it was
too late. The silt had his eyes locked on her. It reached inside
and clutched at her dress with a deathly white hand. It pulled her
forward snarling and Seteal screamed in horror.

A horn sounded in the distance and the
strange silt released her. Its head snapped around as if looking
for something, Seteal all but forgotten. The silt leapt into the
air and snatched at a regular demon who screamed as she was
engulfed by white mist.

Curiosity driving her, Seteal shuffled
toward the back of the wagon and peeked into the sky to find a
sight that left her gaping. The silts with the lights above their
heads had turned on the demons. The flow of battle changed. Silts
were dying in increasing numbers, such that no one could find the
time to resurrect them before they too were killed.

All was chaos. Seteal’s vision blurred
as her head was slammed against the side of the wagon. The crates
she’d been hidden behind lifted into the air and the entire wagon
toppled sideways. A drooling beast with great horns and sharp teeth
stuck its head through the back and snapped at Seteal’s feet.


No!’ she screamed.
‘Get away!’ She kicked at its face.

The beast groaned and pulled its
head out of the wagon. Surely Seteal couldn’t have hurt it that bad
. . . and she hadn’t. Seeol stood outside using his sword to hack
repeatedly at the beast’s neck until he’d severed it. He waved for
Seteal to follow, but refused to utter so much as a word. There was
something wrong with him. He seemed smaller and hunched over.
Seteal’s eyes widened as feathers started sprouting from his face.
‘Oh, Seeol,’ she gasped.


Pleash!’ the
bird-man cried. ‘Not safety,’ he finally managed. ‘Pleash . . . is
coming.’


Who’s coming?’
Seteal asked nervously.


Pleash,’ Seeol
beckoned her to leave the safety of the wagon.

After a moment’s hesitation, Seteal
thrust herself forward, took Seeol’s hand and leapt free of the
wagon as the earth shuddered beneath them and a gaping hole
slithered across the battlefield. The wagon moaned and rolled
backward into a seemingly bottomless pit. Seteal held her stomach
as she was dragged along by Seeol. The earth tilted. Rocks and
debris slid away and Seteal began to lose her grip. Seeol picked
her up and threw her forward onto the stable land ahead of them
before trying and failing to scurry up the length of the falling
chunk of earth.


Seeol!’ Seteal
screamed. ‘Take my hand!’ She laid as flat as she could and
stretched out toward him.


Seteal!’ His eyes
became wide with fear as he dove for Seteal’s hand. Their fingers
touched, but the land fell away too soon and Seeol was lost,
flailing into darkness.


No,’ Seteal choked
out as she watched him fall, rocks and boulders too soon obscuring
him from view. ‘Please, Seeol,’ Seteal sobbed through gritted
teeth, unable to tear her eyes from the endless crevice in the
land. ‘Come back.’

As though in answer to her plea, a
creature no larger than a dog beat his poorly developed wings in an
attempt to escape the abyss. ‘Oh, Seeol,’ Seteal gasped as a beak
formed on his face and his body shrank further, becoming much
better suited to his wings. By the time he’d reached solid ground,
Seeol stared up at Seteal, once again no more than an elf owl.
‘Thank you,’ Seteal whispered, taking in the destruction
surrounding them.

The army of New World had been
victorious and a group of strangely dressed Elglair stood grouped
together with Far-a-mael several hundred strides away. One by one
the silts with the flickering lights above their heads landed
beside them in allegiance. Seteal stared at their blank faces and
guessed that they’d been affiliated. Far-a-mael was using them as
weapons, just as he’d originally intended for Seteal.

The Jenjen were crippled brutally and
many looked disillusioned by the absence of their Holy Spirit in
their hour of need. ‘It’s over, Seeol. You have to stop this.’


Yes
,’ Seeol spoke softly. His
voice was forlorn. ‘Is not a Holy Sprit. Is just an elf
owl.’

Seteal disappeared. The owl became a
speck on the ground that soon faded to nothing as she was jostled
into the sky, sharp metal talons tearing at her leg and back. ‘Let
go,’ Seteal shrieked, pummelling the demon with her fists.


Are you
sure?’


Don’t let go.’
Seteal gaped at the world dangling below her feet. ‘Please don’t
let go.’ She gazed in dismay at the countless fires and rivers of
purple mixed human and silt blood. White and black whisps churned
around each other, circling like hungry dogs before violently
cancelling the other out.


Too late,’ the silt
hissed, thrusting Seteal forward and opening his toes. She
screamed, for the first time not only fearing for her own life, but
that of her child. Instinctively Seteal lunged for the Ways, but
felt nothing other than a solid wall. The world lurched toward her
and there was nothing she could do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Matt-hew 24

31. And he shall send his angels with
the great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather with his elect
from the north, having come from one end of Hades to the other.

 

Scriptures of the
Holy Tome


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
Twenty

The Inner Monster

 

 

Ilgrin beat his wings harder than
he ever had. His crown was too cumbersome to wear during flight, so
he clutched it protectively as he tore through the sky. In the
distance
he saw countless silts swooping
and diving above a crowd of screaming humans. Every natural
instinct told Ilgrin to turn around and free El-i-miir, but his
sensibility knew that the lives of thousands were more important
than just one. And Teah had promised to ensure no harm would come
to her while he was away.

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