‘Yes, you’re sorry. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry, Ilgrin,’ El-i-miir spat briskly as she moved to peek out through a dirty window. ‘Unfortunately “sorry” isn’t going fix what you’ve started here.’
Ilgrin approached slowly, but with a sense of surety. He held his breath and narrowed his eyes furiously, but refused to lose his temper. He put a hand on El-i-miir’s shoulder and turned her around. ‘This is not on my head, El-i-miir. Don’t you dare forget it. Not for a single second. Your people started this, not mine.’ He prodded the air with his finger a milliwidth from El-i-miir’s face. ‘Maybe it’s even your fault personally.’
‘What?’ El-i-miir scoffed. ‘You’ve lost your mind.’
‘No,’ Ilgrin snapped. ‘Think about it. If you’d warned Seteal about Far-a-mael instead of being such a coward, she’d have never gotten to the Frozen Lands. Seeol would still be in Narvon Wood killing stray dogs and wouldn’t have been travelling with you on the road out of Sitnic. Without Seeol there to change into his other self and kill Emquin, Far-a-mael wouldn’t have captured me. He wouldn’t have been able to concoct a story about an Old World invasion and the Elders would’ve rejected his application of War Elder.’
El-i-miir stared at Ilgrin for a long time, her face scrunched up in disbelief. ‘That is just so convoluted,’ she said after a pause.
‘Yes,’ Ilgrin winced at his own speech. ‘It kind of was. Even so, this war is the fault of the Elglair.’
‘I have to find Seteal,’ El-i-miir said dismissively, her eyes becoming distant as she tapped into the Ways. ‘She’s in the woods to the south. Goodbye, Ilgrin,’ she stated without even the slightest hint of affection.
‘But,’ Ilgrin gasped, ‘I just saved your life.’
‘How very gallant of you,’ El-i-miir said, exiting the musty building without a backward glance.
‘El-i-miir,’ Ilgrin raced after her and onto the street.
‘Watch out, miss,’ a soldier barked loudly, racing toward them.
‘Leave us.’ El-i-miir tossed her hand lazily and the man continued past. A shadow fell over them. Large wings spread and a silt swooped. Ilgrin snatched out his scythe, but El-i-miir spun around with a snarl and the silt disappeared back the way he’d come.
*
‘Seteal.’ Someone shook her shoulder. ‘Seteal, get up.’
‘What?’ She rolled over, but immediately felt giddy. ‘El-i-miir? Ilgrin!’ She gasped, spotting the silt with Parrowun cradled in his arms.
‘He was crying,’ Ilgrin said softly. ‘You’ve lost a lot of blood.’
‘Give him to me.’ Seteal grabbed a handful of grass and pulled herself along the ground. ‘He’s mine. What’re you doing here anyway? I thought you wanted to kill us all or some such.’
‘I never wanted that,’ Ilgrin said, but he failed to make eye contact and moved his feet uncomfortably in the dirt.
‘Give me my son,’ Seteal said forcefully while allowing El-i-miir to guide her to her feet.
‘Are you strong enough?’ Ilgrin asked.
‘Give him to me,’ Seteal lunged for the baby and snatched him from Ilgrin’s arms. ‘You can’t hurt him. I won’t let you.’
‘Hurt him?’ Ilgrin gasped, his expression reflecting his disgust. ‘Why would you even say that?’
‘Seteal? Are you all right?’ El-i-miir put a hand on her shoulder, but all Seteal could see was Master Fasil’s hairy knuckles. Her dress was covered in blood. There was dirt on her face. Her hair was a mess and there was a bruise on her cheek.
‘Get away from me!’ Seteal cried out irately.
‘Seteal.’ El-i-miir reached out to her, but the woman responded only by turning to run, dodging around trees and racing through knee-high grass. ‘Slow down,’ El-i-miir panted as she hurried after her and Ilgrin leapt from tree to tree.
Once outside the tree line, Seteal ran onto the road to look for help. El-i-miir leapt toward her, spun her around and slapped her across the cheek. ‘Do you want to get us killed?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Seteal shook her head and tried to control her sobbing before Parrowun seized the opportunity to start crying as well. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Trapped in here, I feel like I’m losing my mind.’
‘Is that . . . ?’ El-i-miir trailed off, focusing on something over Seteal’s shoulder. As she turned to see what the woman was looking at, Ilgrin’s face crumpled into one of fury. With two powerful beats of his wings he crossed the road and slammed a fist into Jakob’s stomach. He picked the man up and threw him across the dirt so that he continued sliding several strides.
‘Ilgrin,’ Jakob gasped. ‘Stop,’ he lifted his hands protectively, but they were useless against the strength of a demon.
‘Why?’ He slammed a fist into Jakob’s face so that his blood spattered the dirt. ‘Why?’ He threw the man’s head back against the road.
‘Stop it, Ilgrin,’ El-i-miir shouted. ‘You’re killing him.’
‘And?’ Ilgrin tilted his head, his face an expression of malice. He put a hand to Jakob’s throat, wrapped his elongated fingers around it and squeezed.
‘I can explain,’ Jakob spluttered, his eyes bulging.
‘Then do it quickly,’ Ilgrin growled.
‘Noah made me do it,’ Jakob squirmed. ‘He’d have killed me otherwise.’
‘Then you should have let him,’ Ilgrin said in disgust, but removed his hand anyway. ‘You’re a worm.’
‘I know that,’ Jakob panted. ‘I’m sorry for what I did to you,’ he wheezed at El-i-miir.
‘What you did is unforgiveable.’ She shook her head in contempt.
Seteal’s focus had been firmly fixed on the dirt at her feet. Her hair hung messily, shrouding her face, keeping her safely hidden from the world. Now she slowly raised her chin to look upon the assembly of unlikely associates. Her eyes locked on El-i-miir’s and she found herself asking the woman a simple question. ‘Is it?’
El-i-miir turned to face her. ‘Pardon me?’
‘Jakob kidnapping you: is it really unforgivable?’
‘Of course it is,’ El-i-miir said in frustration.
‘I see.’ Seteal nodded and turned away. ‘Then you must really think me a fool for forgiving you.’
‘Seteal,’ El-i-miir whined. ‘Where are you going?’
Moving one foot in front of the other, Seteal headed west, where she would be hidden by dense forest in circumnavigation of the city. ‘I’m going home,’ she said so softly that it was doubtful whether anyone heard. A moment later she found herself walking with Ilgrin to her right and El-i-miir to her left, Jakob seemingly having been left to fend for himself.
‘I’m going to help you get there,’ Ilgrin murmured sadly. ‘It’s the least I can do, all considering.’ Whether he was referring to his recent activities as the devil, or his past decision to drop her in the field outside of Sitnic was a mystery to Seteal.
‘Me, too.’ El-i-miir bit her lip. ‘I owe you that much.’
‘Be quiet. Both of you,’ Seteal snapped, having noticed Parrowun’s sudden look of distress. ‘It’s okay, sweetie,’ She kissed his warm cheek and hugged him tight. ‘Mommy’s here.’
*
Seeol twitched his tail nervously as he peered through the trees. The battle within the city behind him seemed endless, but nobody was interested in him. Apparently birds didn’t factor in as much of a threat. He clicked his head toward a faint crunching sound and soon zeroed in on human footfall. When he heard female voices and spotted movement through the northern woodland, he decided to see if he’d discovered what he was looking for.
Having found a suitable tree to land in, Seeol gazed through the woods and his heart leapt joyously. There before him, standing together was Seteal, Ilgrin, and El-i-miir slowly picking their way north. He’d succeeded in saving them when attacking Noah. He’d been so worried that Ilgrin hadn’t been able to catch El-i-miir in time, but here they were, living proof of his success.
Seeol’s eyes dipped lower at
the sound of a nasty, snotty sneeze. Parrowun was there also. Seeol shook out his feathers in irritation. That was one dangerous baby. Much like Seeol, he, too, was filled with darkness. Perhaps he would keep his distance for now. He would just watch them, making sure to keep them safe.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MURDERER
It’d been a couple of weeks since they’d left Belos and Seteal was feeling much better. Parrowun hadn’t once caused a fuss, Ilgrin had procured a cloak, and El-i-miir had managed to affiliate a horse breeder into giving them each a mount. They’d suffered many trials along the way, having been attacked by wild animals and caught in a terrible storm. Ilgrin would’ve suspected it to be Seeol’s fault, but the little bird was nowhere to be seen.
Parrowun was a peculiar child. He was content when other children would’ve been miserable. He remained completely unfazed by the disasters that’d befallen them and yet on previous occasions, he’d burst into tears without any recognisable stimulus. When Ilgrin questioned Seteal about it, he quickly discovered that she preferred not to dwell on his unusual character. He was her perfect little boy.
El-i-miir had scarcely spoken two words since leaving Belos, which was fine with Ilgrin. He was quite enjoying a break from their previously endless bickering.
‘We have a decision to make.’ Seteal pulled her horse to a stop and squinted at Beldin’s fortified walls in the distance. It was the largest city in Gordin, with a booming economy that rivalled the likes of Jenjol.
‘I say we go in.’ El-i-miir shrugged. ‘We’re running low on supplies and it wouldn’t hurt to top up before we continue on to Gor Narvon.’
‘Agreed.’ Ilgrin nodded. ‘You two make the necessary purchases and I’ll wait outside the western gates.’ With a nod of satisfaction, Seteal and El-i-miir made their way into the crowded city.
Making sure to keep a wide berth between him and the city, Ilgrin slunk through the trees toward the west. As he approached the road he came to an abrupt halt. ‘No way,’ he murmured in astonishment when he saw brightly polished shields reflected the morning sunlight. ‘It can’t be.’ He squinted at the distant figure leading a seemingly endless army that trailed over the horizon.
A rather haggard looking Far-a-mael limped toward the city, leaning heavily on a stick for support. His hadoan kept a respectful distance, but did not falter from formation. The gates swung open at a shouted order and the hadoan entered. Overwhelmed by the sight before him, Ilgrin almost failed to notice the distant rumbling in the south, but not quite. The sound had become too familiar for him to ignore.
A black line appeared in the distant sky, silts dipping and swooping about the greater mass. In contrast to the Elglair, there was no recognisable formation at all. ‘Torrid,’ Ilgrin exhaled slowly and cupped his hands over his face, before turning to stare up at the giant city walls. Beldin was the next city on the demon hit list, but it was currently a city inhabited by thousands of Elglair and his friends were trapped inside. He had no choice but to warn them.
Ilgrin paced back and forth through the trees, becoming increasingly anxious as the legion drew closer. There was no way he’d find them. The city was huge.
‘What do I do!?’ he cried in frustration.
‘You haves to warn them,’ Seeol croaked, the sound taking Ilgrin by surprise and causing him to jump.
‘Seeol?’ Ilgrin spun around until he located the bird perched in a nearby tree. ‘Seeol,’ Ilgrin repeated, an idea already forming in his mind. He threw off his cloak and took a step toward the owl.
*
‘I’m finally feeling somewhat normal again.’ Seteal smiled at El-i-miir as the pair took a moment to gaze admiringly at expensive jewellery in a shop window. ‘I think I may be ready to embrace life again, you know. I have my son and I’ll be home soon. Father will undoubtedly help out however he can.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ El-i-miir smiled back, while inwardly recognising the absent-mindedness of Seteal’s words. How long would it take for the legions of Hades to reach her miniscule village and destroy it? El-i-miir suspected not long. It was a strange twist of fate that New World’s greatest hope of salvation now rested in the hands of Far-a-mael, the man who’d been the sole cause of all this senseless destruction.
‘You will just love Elmsville.’ Seteal giggled as they continued along the busy road. ‘People say small towns are boring, but there really is plenty to do. Perhaps you’ll stay.’
‘Maybe,’ El-i-miir said distractedly as she approached a stall selling a variety of breads.
‘Morning, miss.’ A portly fellow tipped his hat. ‘I didn’t think your type would be here quite so soon.’
‘My type?’ El-i-miir frowned, still distracted by an itching in the Ways. ‘What is that?’
‘What?’ Seteal raised her eyebrows.
‘Far-a-mael is here,’ El-i-miir gasped when she recognised a familiar strand of light. It was different--filled with gaping holes and fraying sides, but it was Far-a-mael nevertheless.
‘What, in the city?’ Seteal enquired.
An explosion of excited gasps and screams arose in the west, immediately taking El-i-miir’s attention. She and Seteal turned their faces to the sky where a solitary silt swooped about shouting manically. ‘Is that . . . ?’ El-i-miir trailed off.
‘Ilgrin,’ Seteal finished. ‘What in Maker’s great goodness is he doing?’
‘El-i-miir!’ Ilgrin’s cry carried on the wind. ‘Seteal!’
‘He’s looking for us,’ El-i-miir said in astonishment.
An arrow flew through the air, but Ilgrin swung his fist toward it and it spun passed him on a sudden gust of wind. ‘What’s in his hand?’ Seteal frowned. ‘Is that an animal?’
‘It’s Seeol.’ El-i-miir gaped. A pistol blasted several strides away. Again, Ilgrin went miraculously unharmed. ‘I’ll affiliate him closer.’
A moment later El-i-miir beat her wings and made her way east. She spotted herself and Seteal standing by the stall and released Ilgrin’s mind as he closed in.
‘The legion!' he shouted. ‘They’re coming.’
A silt soared over the city wall to the south, followed by another and another. Ilgrin landed heavily, just one of many demons now doing the same. The fellow behind the stall cried out in fear and ran for his life. A woman hurried screaming down the street, her daughter crying in her arms.
‘We need to get out of here,’ Ilgrin said urgently as he uncurled his fingers to reveal a rather dazed-looking Seeol.
‘Again,’ Seeol commanded. ‘That was fun times.’
A young silt toppled through the air before hitting the ground across the road, where he screamed and clawed at his face, white mist reaching away from his pallid flesh. He howled in misery before becoming very still, the sieift fading against the blue morning sky.
‘The Elglair brought their angels,’ Seteal said wearily.
El-i-miir spun toward an explosion in the north. Masses of silts fell from the sky. Vibrant colours snaked away from the earth to penetrate demon auras and wrap them in horrors unknown. Wall archers took the opportunity with enthusiasm and arrows sprayed down from above. A gust of wind blew El-i-miir’s hair over her eye. Cold metal talons snapped around her arm and before she could react, her feet had left the ground.
*
Ilgrin wasted a shared moment where he and Seteal stared at each other, before granting her an apologetic glance and taking to the sky. The air swarmed and it was impossible for Ilgrin to fly without occasionally slapping his wings against someone else’s.
‘El-i-miir,’ he called, but his voice amounted to wasted breath in the melee.
The northern part of the city was packed with Elglair. Most were expert swordsmen. Others were formidable gils. Some had strange specialties that Ilgrin hadn’t even seen or heard of. A seemingly endless supply of silts flew fiercely into the city. Many had landed atop the walls where they indiscriminately hurled the soldiers of Beldin over the edge to plummet to their deaths.
/> The characteristic black clouds of silt warfare made their presence known as demons were unfairly brought back from the dead. Whisps billowed this way and that. Some dissipated immediately. Most did not. Pet dogs became strange mutant creatures that prowled the streets lusting to kill. Well-built homes crumbled, crushing anyone cowering within. Ilgrin’s jaw fell open in disgust when a whisp billowed away from one resurrected silt, only to take the life of another, who in turn was resurrected by the first.
‘El-i-miir!’ Ilgrin cried again, panic rising in his chest as he saw countless humans screaming through the air clasped between silt talons to be released once they were too high to survive the fall. ‘El-i-miir!’
‘I’m here!’ a male voice shouted from above.
Ilgrin looked over his shoulder to see a silt carrying El-i-miir in his arms. His eyes were vacant. El-i-miir’s were filled with the concentration required to beat someone else’s wings. ‘I’ve got you.’ Ilgrin slowed behind the other silt and wrapped his arms around El-i-miir. The silt released her and flew away. ‘Thank Maker you’re okay,’ Ilgrin dipped toward the ground.
The wind was torn from Ilgrin’s lungs as something slammed into his ribs and El-i-miir screamed. The legion silt had returned. The man snapped his talons around El-i-miir’s leg and started flying in the opposite direction. Caught off-guard, Ilgrin almost lost his grip, but managed to keep a hold of El-i-miir’s wrist. At such a strange angle the wind snapped back Ilgrin’s wing and he flailed out of control. El-i-miir screamed in pain as she was dragged in two separate directions.
‘Affiliate him!’ Ilgrin cried as he regained balance, but whether it was due to pain or fear, El-i-miir was unable to respond.
In an attempt to minimise the pull on El-i-miir’s body, Ilgrin flew with their attacker. With a desperate grunt he leapt forward and swung his knife at the silt’s back. He missed his target, instead plunging the knife into the legion soldier’s wing and tearing a hole down its length. The silt cried out in pain as he spiralled uncontrollably, his split wing incapable of properly capturing the wind.