The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit (28 page)

‘
Stop!’ Ilgrin
shouted as he closed in, but his voice was snatched away, another
voice lost among the battle-cries of war. The scene before him was
one of total devastation. The Elglair were a powerful enemy to
silts, physical strength having little value against those with the
power to manipulate one’s soul. ‘Stop!’

‘
Who are you?’ a silt
asked as he matched Ilgrin’s flight-pattern.

‘
The Devil,’ Ilgrin
waved the crown in the man’s face.

‘
It cannot be.’ The
silt recoiled beneath his blue military uniform.

‘
It is,’ Ilgrin
snarled. ‘Spread the news. This war must . . .’ He trailed off, his
eyes locking on a sight that made his blood run cold.

There, in the middle distance, a silt
swooped over the ground above a mighty gorge. His toes closed
around a pregnant woman and snatched her into the air. The pair
ascended. Ilgrin twisted his wings dangerously and fought for a new
destination.

‘
Hold on, Seteal,’ he
begged over the wind. ‘Just hold on.’ Ilgrin tumbled through the
air, winded by a knock to the side. He turned to find his attacker
was an angel. ‘I thought you were on our side.’

‘
We’ve never been on
your side, silt,’ the angel said with all the malice his Elglair
puppet-master could muster.

Ilgrin doubled his efforts in getting
away, but as he flew he felt a deep ache beginning in his bones and
leaching from his flesh. The ache became agony and his flight
faltered. Raising his hands before his eyes, Ilgrin watched as a
sieift started oozing from his flesh.

‘
Stop,’ he cried
weakly before plummeting, his wings having become too weak to
support him.

An arrow slid through the air,
likely intended for Ilgrin, but instead struck the angel. The
creature fell away and having lost its hold, Ilgrin turned his
attention back to Seteal. Scanning the sky, he found it impossible
to locate her. Silts were flashing in every direction carrying men
and women, tearing them apart or simply dropping them to their
bloody deaths. It was only when a sharp scream pierced the darkness
that Ilgrin was able to find Seteal, her captor having released
her.

Ilgrin banked sharply after the
woman and snatched her from the air. ‘Ilgrin?’ She gaped in
surprise as he moved her from his toes to his arms, cradling her
protectively while making sure to keep the crown from touching
her.

‘
We really must stop
meeting this way,’ Ilgrin said once they’d landed safely. ‘What’s
going on with the angels?’

‘
Angels?’ Seteal
appeared to be confused for a moment, but then her eyes widened in
realisation. ‘That’s what they are? I think they’re all
possessed.’

‘
I know that,’ Ilgrin
replied. ‘Those Elglair work for us.’

‘
I don’t think they
do,’ Seteal said, shaking her head. ‘The Elglair work for nobody
but themselves.’

‘
But that’s . . .’
Ilgrin frowned and turned his attention to the sky. ‘You’re right.’
He swallowed as angels dipped and turned, no longer pursuing
humans, but demons. Time after time, the demons fell to the mighty
force of angelic power and plummeted dead or dying through the
air.

‘
What’s that?’ Seteal
frowned at the large crown gripped in Ilgrin’s hands.

‘
There’s no time.’ He
gritted his teeth. ‘I have to stop this before it’s too late.
Far-a-mael might’ve won the battle, but I’m not done with him
yet.’

‘
What do you mean?’
Seteal bit her lip, but Ilgrin ignored her and leapt into the
throngs of battle.

‘
Retreat,’ Ilgrin
shouted, waving the crown about his head as he banked and swept
through the crowded sky. ‘In the name of your Devil, Sa’Enoch, I
order you to retreat to Hel!’

Progress was slow, but as
increasing numbers of silts heard his words and saw the crown they
started following Ilgrin’s command. Much to his relief, the angels
did not follow. He glanced back in dismay at the sheer volume of
dead on the ground and realised that his first challenge in getting
his people to follow his lead would be in convincing them that it
was unacceptable to resurrect the fallen.

By the time Ilgrin reached the tree, he
was blind with fury. He slammed against the bark and roared like
the demon he was before scampering up the side using fingers and
toes, accomplishing that which was impossible to weak humans. No
more pretence. No more illusions. It was time to embrace his
inhumanity. Ilgrin leapt through one of the entry points and
guessed his way through countless tunnels before entering the main
chamber. From there he half-flew, half-fell to the ground floor and
made his way toward the roots.

‘
You,’ Ilgrin snapped
as he passed a servant. ‘Take me to the dungeon.’

‘
And who might you
be?’ The servant narrowed his eyes at Ilgrin’s plain and rather
unusual clothes. Ilgrin raised his crown. ‘This way.’ The silt
stumbled back and would’ve fallen if not for the dexterous use of
his wings.

The roots consisted of dark, closed-in
tunnels that wove up and down and all around the place. Lanterns
were placed sparsely, the atmosphere almost becoming pitch-black
before the next would appear. The walls were constructed from
stone, but here and there the root system itself had been hollowed
out and adopted as a passageway. Eventually they came to a large
door guarded by two rather muscular silts.

‘
Where’s Du’Noah?’
Ilgrin snapped.

‘
Inside, my Devil.’
The guard kept his eyes respectfully lowered.

‘
Well?’ Ilgrin
barked. ‘Let me in.’ The big man fumbled with his keys but his
hands were shaking too much to function. ‘Oh, for Maker’s sake,’
Ilgrin growled, snatching the keys from his hands and shoving them
one by one into the lock until it turned with a loud clunk. ‘Stay
out here,’ he snarled. ‘And you,’ he called to the first servant.
‘Find me clothing befitting of a king!’

‘
A king?’ The man
quivered.

‘
A Devil . . .
whatever,’ Ilgrin snapped irritably. ‘Just find something
respectable.’

He slammed the door and the sound
echoed repeatedly from the surrounding walls. ‘Noah! Where are
you?’ The room consisted of a long hallway with cages lining the
sides. ‘Show yourself.’

‘
What do you want?’
the man replied from several cages away. ‘Have you come to
gloat?’

‘
Not at all,’ Ilgrin
replied, making his way steadily to the tired looking silt. Not
only had he been arrested, but it appeared he’d also received a
fairly decent beating. ‘What do you know about this foolish
alliance your father made with the Elglair?’

‘
It was no alliance,’
Noah hissed furiously. ‘Humans are never our equals. They’re
underlings. It is we who have our origins in Hae’Evun! Some Elglair
were wise enough to realise that and agreed to work as
Sa’Tanists.’

‘
Fools.’ Ilgrin
punched the wall only to groan at the pain it caused him. ‘How can
you all have been so stupid? The Elglair are the most ruthless,
obnoxious, self-consumed people in the world. They care for nothing
and nobody outside of their own society.’

‘
What’re you
saying?’

‘
The angels changed
sides.’ Ilgrin shook his head in disgust. ‘That means the Elglair
affiliating them did, too.’

‘
Impossible,’ Noah
said dismissively. ‘Those Elglair have been serving us for a
hundred years.’

‘
Don’t you see?’
Ilgrin said bitterly. ‘The Elglair would feign loyalty for a
thousand years if it meant a tactical advantage. They were never
Sa’Tanists. They’re Frozen Land spies.’

‘
I don’t believe
you,’ Noah uttered, his smile having vanished.

‘
Really?’ Ilgrin
began pacing anxiously. ‘Whose idea was it?’

‘
I don’t
understand.’

‘
Whose idea was it?’
Ilgrin shouted. ‘A hundred years ago when our ancestors decided to
have the angels affiliated to kill whoever they couldn’t, whose
idea was it?’

Noah swallowed and his eyes revealed
dismay. ‘The Elglair approached us.’

‘
The Elglair had you
murder your own protectors,’ Ilgrin said coldly. ‘Now the only
angels left are under their control.’

‘
Torrid,’ Noah
whispered.

‘
Torrid is right.’
Ilgrin nodded before turning to leave.

When he reached the throne room, Ilgrin
was pleased to find neatly folded clothing prepared by his servant.
He changed into the royal garments coloured in dazzling blues and
flowing gold. The table at the far side of the room had been
trained away from the floor, but the throne was something else
entirely. The large chair was made of precious metals and encrusted
with expensive-looking stones. The back was slender, allowing for
the Devil’s wings to move freely behind it.

Four silt generals soon arrived and
stood around the table, awaiting Ilgrin’s command. Still uncertain
of what to say, Ilgrin simply sat on his throne and stared dead
ahead.

‘
So let me get this
straight. About a hundred or so years ago my great-grandfather was
approached by a small group of affiliates.’

‘
That’s correct,’
General Li’John replied.

‘
The Elglair struck a
deal with your people,’ Ilgrin stated. ‘They promised to affiliate
the angels that kept the Devil under their thumb in exchange for
what?’

‘
The Devil would have
complete freedom,’ Li’John replied. ‘The Elglair would become the
highest ranked Sa’Tanists and be granted all of the privileges that
came with the position. They were given endless luxuries and
wealth.’

‘
So the Elglair
affiliated the commanding angels and used them against their own
kind in the angel hunts that have continued to this day,’ Ilgrin
confirmed. ‘They killed most of them, but kept some under constant
affiliation to be used in battle or when the generation of a sieift
was required.’

‘
That’s correct,’
another of the generals confirmed with a nod.

‘
But then we got onto
the battlefield today . . .’ Ilgrin trailed off.

‘
It was a trap . . .’
Li’John’s eyes showed his devastation. ‘One hundred years in the
making.’

‘
And now Far-a-mael
has an army of angels, which he undoubtedly plans to use against
us.’

‘
That’s about the
gist of it.’ John swallowed nervously.

‘
Are silts ordinarily
so foolish?’ Ilgrin said angrily, stepping down from his
throne.

‘
The Devil wanted his
freedom,’ John said slowly. ‘He made a mistake in trusting the
Elglair, but it seemed like a good arrangement.’

‘
The Elglair are not
to be trusted,’ Ilgrin spat. ‘I’ve seen them for what they are.
They prance about arrogantly. They think they’re so perfect, hidden
away in their Frozen Lands. They look down their noses at everyone
else. I’ve been there, you know.’ Ilgrin shuddered, remembering the
tortures imposed on him. ‘They will not get away with it this time.
Please excuse me.’ Ilgrin dismissed the generals. ‘I need time to
think.’

‘
My Devil,’ each of
the men said with respect as they left.

‘
Bring her to me,
Adam.’ Ilgrin turned to the servant waiting by the door.

‘
Now?’ Adam asked.
‘Don’t you think you should first address the people? They want to
know what’s happened to their Devil and why you’ve ordered a
retreat.’

‘
I will see her
first,’ Ilgrin snapped. ‘Bring her to me.’

‘
Of course, your
highness.’ Adam bowed out of the room.

Ilgrin moved back to his throne, put a
hand on the armrest and exhaled slowly. He removed the rather
gaudy-looking crown from his head and placed it on the cushioned
seat. He didn’t want El-i-miir to see him wearing it. He wasn’t
sure why he felt that way, but was absolutely resolute. Perhaps he
felt ashamed, but ashamed of what, he couldn’t say. Was he
embarrassed by his demonic heritage? Had he grown accustomed to
making himself as human as possible for El-i-miir’s sake?

‘
Ilgrin.’ Teah
stepped into the room wearing a flowing black dress. ‘I sent the
guard to collect Jakob from the cliffs. He’ll get quite a fright,
but I didn’t think such a task would be fitting of your new
station.’

‘
Jakob is my friend.’
Ilgrin turned sharply. What was wrong with him? He felt so
defensive, snapping at the slightest thing. ‘Why wouldn’t I have
time for a friend?’

‘
Because there is
much work to be done,’ Teah said hesitantly. ‘You didn’t think your
responsibilities would come to an end once you had the crown, did
you?’

‘
I don’t know what to
think.’ Ilgrin’s shoulders slumped, his wings reaching the floor.
‘This is all happening so quickly. I feel like I’m losing myself. I
am Ilgrin Geld, son of Baen and Urelie Geld. I’m a farmer’s boy
from Sitnic.’

‘
And nobody can take
that away from you.’ Teah took Ilgrin’s hand and looked him in the
eye. He was taken by surprise, noticing for the first time that
Teah’s eyes contained the same mix of squirming colours as her
halo. ‘You’ll always be Ilgrin in here.’ The angel tapped his
chest. ‘But out there, you have to be the Devil,
Sa’Enoch.’