Michael (40 page)

But then he felt the prick of what could only have been a hypodermic syringe.
Great, John. Now what?
Everything went dark.

Arabia, 1232 B.C.

Kreios had been preparing a lecture for her in his mind as he killed the last few members of Subedei’s stupid entourage. Of course he had known; what father would release his as-yet unformed adult daughter into the wilds without at least watching over her? He had known she was headstrong, even stubborn, but this…this had been a surprise.

Had he not tried to instill more sense into her? Had he not spent himself in her childhood, trying his utmost to raise her to be prudent and wise? What she had done this night felt like betrayal.

He swooped upward toward the treetops, thinking on all she had done. She deserved a stern word or two, and he would not fail to deliver. But as he approached the bough where he had left her, he knew she had gone. He cursed himself. He had placed her there in the hope she would be both safe and unable to flee easily from him. But she had found a way.

How had she managed that?

Unless she had been taken. His heart suffered the pang of anxiety as he circled the treetops in the vicinity, double and triple checking that she was indeed not there. He descended to the path below, where the leaders had circled to discuss the incident.

Yamanu was among them. “Have you seen Eriel?” Kreios grabbed his tunic gruffly.

Yamanu turned to him, surprise and concern showing on his features in the darkness. “Is she not safe?” he asked.

“I do not know,” Kreios said, panting a little. “I thought I had left her in a safe place during the skirmish.”

“The one called Subedei escaped,” Yamanu said. “That was the one Eriel had come out to meet…”

As he said the words, Kreios knew in his heart what had happened. “What are you not telling me?”

Yamanu did not speak immediately, and still more angels gathered roundabout, awaiting further orders, further action.

Kreios extended a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Tell me, friend.”

Yamanu shook his head. “I am afraid, Kreios, that I am responsible for this debacle.”

“Why do you say such a thing?”

“Because, friend, I had been teaching her how to use the gift of the Shadowers. Perhaps before she was yet ready.” His face was downcast. “I could not help but see a predilection in her for the gift. She has much potential, Kreios; you should be very proud of your daughter. After one lesson, she escaped through the defenses of the great city and found her way to liberty.”

“Are you telling me that she is still somewhere near? Perhaps hiding from us even now?”

Yamanu’s face betrayed the deep fear and pain he felt in regard to Eriel. “My friend Kreios, there is more that remains to be revealed to us. I am sorry. I started her training too soon. She was not ready! She does not yet understand the purpose of the gift; she cannot properly bear its attendant burden.”

Kreios grasped Yam by both shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, his own eyes begging without words for a morsel of bare truth.

“I am afraid she could be anywhere, Kreios.”

“We must find her!” Kreios turned to bolt; he wanted to begin the search and make sure she was not taken by the boy.

“Kreios,” Yamanu said, touching his arm from behind, “we cannot.”

“What do you mean?!” Kreios asked him incredulously. “This is absurd! We cannot?”

Yamanu nodded quietly.

“Why?”

Yamanu paused before answering. “Because, friend, she does not want to be found.” He waited yet another moment for this new and profound information to settle.

Kreios slumped.

Yamanu grasped his shoulder. “She is that good. Until she wants to be found…we will never find her.”

CHAPTER XX

Somewhere over the South Atlantic, present day

EVERYTHING EXPLODED.

I had been knocked unconscious.

When I came back around to myself, the air was filled with an enormous roaring sound. From the instrument panel behind me there were a gaggle of loud buzzers sounding off. I peeled my eyes open and they were instantly stung by a thousand needles of thin atmosphere. I was dizzy; it was difficult to breathe. One arm was hooked through the supporting structure of a seat, one leg was cocked up and wedged behind me in the doorway to the flight deck. I looked out the closest available window: one of the windscreens in the cockpit behind me, and I saw what looked like blackness with an occasional pink-orange stripe passing vertically from right to left.

Then I realized:
that’s the sunset. The horizon.
We were sideways and cartwheeling through the air.

My body was being pulled. I looked back to the direction I was facing, the direction I was being pulled. There was Michael, still buckled to his seat and passed out. More importantly though, there was wide open nothingness where the back of the plane had been.

And I was being sucked toward it.

Where is Ellie?
Hex and Bishop were gone. I could see Michael, and I tried to make my way toward him. I knew I would be able to use the sucking momentum to get to him, but I had probably only one shot. If I messed up I would be sucked straight out the back without him. And I needed to rescue him.

I wasn’t sure of the details, but I knew I had to get him out of the plane.

Pressure pulled relentlessly at every part of me. I had to get across the aisle and move…fly… about ten feet toward the rear of the plane in order to connect with him. It was very difficult to breathe. I felt my body flirting with another blackout.

I had to make my move.

It was ugly. When I let go, everything happened so fast. I became airborne and hurtled toward the wide open. I almost missed my shot. If I hadn’t pushed off with my legs a little I would have gone straight out the back.

But I didn’t. I collided with Michael’s chest like a 98 pound football, startling the crap out of him and waking him up. He grasped me in a bear hug, looked around with wild eyes, saw me, saw the foggy atmosphere in the plane and craned his head all over the place like a bird. “Airel, wha…” His eyelids grew heavy, his grip on me weakened.

He passed out again.

Oh, no.
I clung tightly to him, trying with one hand to reach the release on his buckle.

“Hey!” Ellie screamed into my ear and I jerked back a little in surprise. My eyes asked the question for me. “Never mind!” she screamed above the roaring noise. “Just grab the parachute!” She was standing in the aisle, her feet braced hard between two seats.

Parachute. I didn’t think we would need those…
I thought about the inflatable raft I had seen in the cupboards as well; the survival beacons. Everything suddenly became far too real.
This is life and death. In a wrestling match.

I grabbed the chute from Ellie; it was an enormous thing. I slipped my free arm through the straps, grabbing Michael with the other.

“Ready?” Ellie screamed again.

I nodded.

She let herself go. She was sucked violently from the plane. I decided it was a very scary thing, but I didn’t want to die, either.

Holding fast to Michael and the parachute, I found the seat belt release and pulled.

Cape Town, South Africa, present day

Kreios felt the draw on his strength as he neared the center of the principality of the evil prince Nwaba, the enormous high-rise citadel of the Nri. He did not wanted to admit it to himself, but he could feel himself weakening, feel the longing for the Sword, wondered why he could not retrieve it now of all times. He consigned himself to the strong possibility of a suicide mission.

But now everything was different.

When he had seen the great demonic horde flying west, he was struck. In his impetuous youth he would have given chase, which would have ended in a sound defeat. Instead he bode his time and thought it over.

He had guessed Nwaba was at the head of his westering detachment then, and now he was quite sure. He felt his strength returning in waves. The prince was away. The city was unguarded. And Kreios could attack in strength.

He would do what El had done to Sodom and Gomorrah. He would burn it to the ground.

CHAPTER XXI

Somewhere over the South Atlantic, present day

IT WAS LIKE WE were shot out of a cannon. Everything around us was completely dark, and if it was difficult to hold onto both Michael and the parachute in the confines of the plane, it was seriously close to impossible while falling through the sky. All the problems I had inside the plane were now magnified: it was louder, harder to breathe, more physically demanding, and I couldn’t see because I couldn’t open my eyes.

She
said,
“Let Ellie help you.”
It was a good thing I had ample warning, because before I knew it Ellie was shouting in my ear again. Something about getting the parachute on. Clumsily, I gave her one arm at a time as she helped cinch everything up.
This is insane.
The straps were either big enough to bundle me together with Michael or there was an extra set. I didn’t care about details, I just wanted the madness to end.

I worried that we were going to hit the ocean at any minute, that I wouldn’t see it coming. It was really bizarre that my number one instinct was to see it coming when it came. Now that there was at least a parachute though, everything should have balanced out. But it didn’t.

She
was going berserk I my head, Ellie was shouting, the wind from our descent was debilitating.

I forced my eyes to open. My tear ducts were emptying themselves in the fierce wind and my vision was blurry. It didn’t help that we were falling through the last dying embers of the sunset, either; it was almost pitch black.

Except for a weird cluster of light off to one side, that is. As my brain tried to process this new information, I became sick with fright: I was looking at the city lights of Cape Town. From like, thousands of feet above it. I could see the outline of the coast of South Africa below, but it wasn’t directly below. It was below and far away. We were going to fall into the ocean.

Ellie shouted something into my ear again, grasped something on the front of me and then pushed off violently, yanking hard on the straps as she went. “Hey!” I shouted in total impotence, the pelting wind sucking all the volume from me. And then I realized something new. Ellie had pulled my ripcord.

It was like hitting pavement.
Or maybe like getting your arms ripped completely off.
Whatever the case, the chute opened above and Michael and I were saved. I realized how thankful I needed to be for all that had happened at Ellie’s hands. I couldn’t have held onto Michael if I had wanted to. I was very glad to have him strapped to me.

I looked around me, trying to orient myself by the lights of the city and what remained of the sunset behind us. Below, I saw Ellie’s chute deploy in a bright red and white flume, filling with air, arresting her descent as well.

I breathed a sigh of relief and wept silently to myself.
This is totally crazy. I can’t believe Hex and Bishop! Is Michael okay? How do we get out of this one? Are we going to just crash into the ocean? Who will save us then?

I looked out to the horizon again, glad for a moment’s peace. A bloom of white and orange erupted far below us.
That was the plane. It just crashed into the ocean.

Then something flew by me. Something big and dark.
Dark.
My mind returned to the dark cloud I had seen from the cockpit before everything had gone horrible.

“Get ready,” She
said.