Here Shines the Sun (77 page)

Rook saw Raziel’s hands ball up into fists. Asteroth placed a hand on the Saint’s chest and then stepped forward. “Why do you come now?” asked Asteroth. “Why did you not come with Erygion? If you had, perhaps our numbers would be whole.”

Adonael bent his head. “I haven’t come to discuss my actions,” he said. “I am given to Titan Mammoth and my time here is very short. I’ve come to tell you that you’re all in danger.”

“Danger from who?” asked Asteroth. “Sanctuary?”

“That would be the least of it.” said Adonael. “King Gatima’s Exalteds march on Narbereth as we speak.”

Cabiel snickered. “Sanctuary knows they can’t recall their Saints. They don’t want word getting out so they’re having Gatima do their work.”

“No.” said Adonael. “Gatima’s Exalteds come to take these lands for Gatima.”

The other Saints all looked at each other. “You mean to say Gatima betrays Sanctuary?” asked Sodiel.

Adonael nodded. “Queen Lustille and her Exalteds, the Viragos, came before Gatima to seek aid. Gatima had them killed, as well as an Oracle from Sanctuary.”

“That means Narbereth truly is ours,” said Rook, mostly to himself. “We really have taken this country.”

Adonael looked at him. “You have taken nothing. Gatima will take these lands. Count them his already.”

Rook turned his eyes to the Saint. He felt the Golothic burning in his pocket. Pent-up anger and hatred from his childhood began to bubble to the surface, manifesting in his voice, “It is Gatima who has taken nothing. We have taken these lands, and we will keep these lands.”

Adonael sneered. “I’ll give you people due respect for what you have done thus far, but you will not defeat Gatima. He is ancient. He is a King of Kings. His Exalteds are more terrible than your imagination can allow for. Goliath Minotaur shall tear your walls from their foundations. Titan Mammoth will grind you to dust beneath his feet. And what they leave behind, Colossus Dragon shall reduce to burnt offerings in the name of Gatima, the King of Kings.” Adonael held Rook with his gaze for a moment. Then he said, “Where is Ertrael? You told me my old apprentice was here as well.”

Raziel smirked. “He stays with that one and his parents.”

“I can bring him, if you like.” said Rook, trying to cool his anger. Being dismissed so openly by Adonael had stirred some bitterness in him, but he’d be lying if he said that Adonael’s words hadn’t cast some doubts about his ability to defend this city.

Adonael nodded. “Bring him. I would like to speak with him before I leave.”

Rook nodded. Before he could take his leave he heard Ralf’s panicked shouts. “Rook! Rook!” he could hear Ralf screaming. “Rook!”

The Saints all looked at Rook. Rook sighed. “I’ll see what the matter is.” He turned his eyes to Adonael. “I’ll bring Saint Ertrael by shortly.”

“With haste.” said Adonael. “My time here is short.”

Rook nodded and then slipped out of the chamber.

“Why does Ertrael not stay here with his fellow Saints?” asked Adonael.

“He’s taken a liking to Rook and his family.” said Raziel with some disgust. “If not for him, perhaps Ovid’s head would have been mine.”

“It’s not his fault.” said Sodiel.

Raziel’s eyes narrowed. He stared at Sodiel. “If not for him splitting our numbers, maybe we could have taken Nuriel and Karinael would still be alive.”

“Enough.” said Asteroth.

In the background Saint Sodiel seemed to take notice of something unseen. His head cocked to the side, as if listening. Then he came forward. “You said you were given to Titan Mammoth.” Sodiel’s hand went to his bo-staff. “And you seem to speak highly of Gatima, though you know Sanctuary holds no sway over you. Tell me again why you are here, exactly?”

At once the other Saints all seemed to be on edge. Asteroth began looking around the room. Hands went for weapons.

“He means to betray us!” shouted Asteroth, grabbing his axes.

Adonael looked at them, “What?”

Asteroth moved in on Adonael.

“Wait!” yelled Sodiel. “It’s not him! There’s something in the church!”

Heads turned to Sodiel.

“We need to get out!” yelled Sodiel, but already he knew it was too late, and now Asteroth and Raziel sensed the same thing.

And then blinding white light and fire filled their vision.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

“You have to reach to me, Hadraniel.” whispered Karinael.

Hot tears rolled from Hadraniel’s eyes as he clutched Karinael’s limp body in his arms. He shook his head.

“You have to reach for me.” she whispered again, but her voice was not from her body. It came from somewhere in the fog that surrounded Hadraniel.

“But I’m holding you.” sobbed Hadraniel. “I’m holding on to you.”

“That’s not me.” said Karinael’s voice from the obscure bleakness.

“Yes it is.” said Hadraniel. He sniffled and brushed his hand through her long hair of crystalline amber.

“Look up and reach to me.” she said.

“I… I can’t.” He started rocking on his knees as he held Karinael’s body to his own. He knew that if he looked up he would see Nuriel’s eyes burning like golden embers in the mist. He also knew that to look away from her was to risk losing her again. If he closed his eyes or looked away, her armor would empty in his hands. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, Karin.”

“I never left you.” said Karinael. “Reach out to me and you’ll feel me again.”

Hadraniel was wracked by sobs as he clutched her possessively to his breast. “I can feel you now. I want to stay like this.”

“That’s not me. You have to reach.”

“I… I don’t want to.”

“Close your eyes, Hadi. Close your eyes.”

Hadraniel clenched his eyes shut, squeezing tears from them.

“Now open your eyes. Let all that you’re holding go, and reach to me here.”

Hadraniel shook his head. “No. You’ll be gone.”

“You must hurry.”

“I can’t. I can’t lose you again.”

“Let it go, Hadi. Stop clinging to my death and reach for me. Reach for me and I can live again in your heart.”

Hadraniel sobbed as he cracked his eyes open. He was only holding Karinael’s empty armor, her bodysuit limp and draped over his legs. “No! No! Don’t leave!”

“Reach to me.”

“I… I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be afraid of her.”

Hadraniel lifted his head. He saw those burning, golden eyes menacing him from the mist.

“Reach to me. You must hurry.”

Beyond the shroud of fog Hadraniel saw Karinael. She stood upon the fringes of the murky reality, her form dusted in a light that softened the form of her body into a hazy creation of Caliber energy. Behind her was a young Saint he didn’t know. She had the richest crimson hair and eyes he had ever seen and she wore the steel armor of a Templar, not the Star-Armor of a Saints Caliber. She was shy, hiding behind Karinael, but holding her hand. It was her Caliber, not Karin’s, that encompassed them. “K-Karin…”

She smiled. “Reach to me.”

Hadraniel stood up. Nuriel moved in on him, fixing him with her molten, hateful eyes. Hadraniel hesitated.

“Reach. Quickly.”

Slowly, Hadraniel extended his hand. Nuriel drew her claymore and flourished it.

“Hurry, you must reach to me.”

Hadraniel stepped forward. Nuriel growled and swung at him with her claymore, but it passed through his body.

“Reach!”

Hadraniel moved his arm out, and felt himself sucked away into a blinding, white light. “Karin! Karin! Where are you?!”

“Among the heavens where my Caliber has always been.”

Hadraniel felt a terrible heat course through his body. He closed his eyes, yet still the white light was blinding. He felt energy drifting from his eyes and hands; felt as though his body would be torn apart. “Karin!”

He felt soft lips upon his forehead. “Protect them all. And then go to Duroton.”

Hadraniel screamed as he felt the very fibers of his body tearing apart.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Thunder, louder than Kierza had ever heard, rocked the house and she shot up in bed. Ertrael sat up too, and Tomas, Jocab and Galen all started crying. Dust and loose thatch fell from the ceiling above.

“What was that?” Kierza’s hand went to her chest. She was trembling.

Ertrael looked to the window and pushed his way past Kierza. He threw the curtains open. Down in the city a ball of fire rose and distant screams floated on the winds.

Kierza ran to Ertrael’s side, watching as the fireball crawled its way into the night sky, lighting up the city. “Stars above,” she breathed. “What happened?”

Callad burst through the doors with Sierla. “Where’s Rook?”

Kierza and Ertrael looked back out the window, neither of them daring to speculate.

Sierla quickly got the boys out of bed and gathered them to her. “There now, little ones.” she cooed as they cried into her bosom. “Everything will be all right.”

Kierza looked up at Ertrael. “You… you don’t think Rook…”

Ertrael raced from the room, pushing aside Callad. Like a comet trailing white light, he tore down the hill and into the city, bounding over walls and buildings as he headed toward the church. Everywhere people were running and screaming. As he neared the avenue that led toward the church Ertrael saw a cloud of thick, powdery dust pouring down the street. He slowed his pace to a walk and cupped a hand over his mouth as the cloud rolled over him. It smelled of brick and stone and smoke. He coughed. Through the cloud a dozen or more dark shadows hobbled toward him and Ertrael heard a child screaming and a woman sobbing. He stopped and watched as the group of bloodied people passed him.

Ertrael looked down the avenue. The dust cloud began to thin, and through it he now saw fires burning. Slowly, he walked forward. Ragged, shadowy forms came into view. They were like giant, crooked teeth standing hither and thither, and as Ertrael moved his way past the dust, he realized he was staring at what remained of the church. Rubble burned everywhere. Fragments of wall leaned at precarious angles. One of the church’s spires lay upon the ground, its shingles ablaze. The road was scorched all around the perimeter and the surrounding buildings were missing great pieces of their walls. A few had their roofs smashed where the church’s high steeples had fallen in on them. One of the buildings began to crumble and collapse even as Ertrael watched. There was nothing left. The church was gone. Somewhere a woman screamed. A child wailed. A man moaned.

It took Ertrael a moment to process it all; to remember that this was the church where Hadraniel, Asteroth, Sodiel, Cabiel and Loganiel were. As Ertrael stared at the disaster before him, something across the street caught his eye. In the shadows of an alley stood the dark forms of many men. An orange ember burned bright for a moment, and in its light Ertrael caught a glimpse of Grandon’s face. He watched as the man flicked his cigar to the street, and then turned and disappeared into the alley.

Ertrael looked back at the burning ruins. Slowly, he stepped forward. There was a strange silence in the air that made every little sound more real; more dreadful. Wood cracked and popped as it burned. Somebody coughed. A fragment of wall crumbled and glass broke. There was an arm laying on the street. He saw a smoldering shoe, covered in dust, laying upon a cracked slab of stone among some broken stained glass. He took a few more steps toward the rubble. He bent down and picked something black up from beneath a pile of shattered bricks. It was a star-metal axe. It was one of Saint Asteroth’s.

Behind him, Ertrael now heard the shouts of men, barking dogs and clomping boots. He turned around to see Blake with some thirty knights racing toward him. A handful of the knights were led by slender, rawboned quick-hounds that tugged at their leashes, hollering their high-pitched cries.

“Quickly!” he heard Blake shout. “There could be survivors!” Then Blake’s eyes caught Ertrael’s and he came running up to him. “Where’s Rook?! Have you seen Rook?!”

Ertrael didn’t answer. He looked at the axe he held in his hand. It fell from his grip and hit the road with a tremendous impact. The loudness shook him from his daze and he looked at Blake. “Rook was here?”

“He came here with another Saint. Adonael, I think his name was. Did you see him?”

Ertrael opened and closed his mouth, but he couldn’t get any words to come out. Adonael? Adonael had come here? Saint Adonael had been his mentor, back in his days in Jerusa. He looked back down at the star-metal axe that lay upon the street. The church was gone. Adonael had come here with Rook; Asteroth and the others were staying here, and it was gone.

Blake turned to the knights. “Get the dogs into the debris!” he ordered. “There could be survivors!” Blake knocked Ertrael on the shoulder. “Come on, we need you!” he shouted, and then he and his men ran off, scattering into the ruins, the knights being tugged this way and that by their quick-hounds.

Ertrael shook his head, trying to get his wits back. He didn’t know why this destruction phased him so much. He had seen cities slaughtered; witnessed roads running red with blood. He had seen fellow Saints fall to a well-placed shot from a bolt-thrower. Death and destruction were not new to him, and yet standing here among the devastation—wondering if Rook had been inside the church; wondering if the other Saints, and maybe even his old mentor, were inside—was tearing his mind down; threatening to topple him. He saw a blackened hand sticking from the rubble like a charred branch and he shook his head again, refusing to fall back into a daze.

“Rook! Rook!” he cried. He jumped up onto a pile of rubble and began tossing huge chunks of debris. “Rook! Hadraniel!” Frantic, Ertrael began calling out any of the Saints’ names that came to mind. He groaned as he heaved up a burning timber and tossed it aside. He turned his head away. Blackened, smoking bodies lay scattered beneath bricks, glass and broken pews. Their identities, Ertrael knew, would never be known.

Then a cry pierced the silence that surrounded Ertrael. “We found something!” He turned and saw Blake clambering across the remnants of a fallen wall to where two knights stood. At their feet a quick-hound was barking and scratching at the debris.

Even from where Ertrael stood he could see a faint glow coming from the cracks between fallen fragments of stone, lighting up a broken pane of stained glass. It was not the glow of fire, but rather of pure light, soft but brilliantly white. It was Caliber light.