Wings of Sorrow (A horror fantasy novel) (8 page)

“I have no master but myself, and I will not allow you to hurt Scarlet. She is innocent.”

“This is no mere human standing before you. Her destiny is written, but you will not succeed in safeguarding it. The Spark will die here, today, and humanity will remain under the protection of the Father. Your day of reckoning will come, demon. Why your memory eludes you, is a mystery to me, but you cannot change what you are.”

Sorrow touched his face, which was now human again. “I know not what I am, but I do not seek to murder innocent girls. Who is the true demon here?”

The Saint seemed amused by the question. The corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. “Millions of innocents have died over centuries because of you, Manah. Even the day of this girl’s birth was marred by your meddling. Your whispers have stretched throughout history and maddened entire nations to murder. Men fly metal birds into buildings on your say so.”

“Is he talking about 9/11?” Scarlet asked, staring at Sorrow in disbelief. “Were you behind it?”

The Saint turned to her and had more to say. “It is true, child. Manah’s insidious mutterings ignited the flames of hatred in many of the men involved in the events of your birth date. He is here trying to protect your life, only to ensure the death of millions.”

Scarlet eased herself away from the counter and stood before the man meaning to hurt her. “I’m really going to be responsible for the end of the world?”

“You are an instrument of destruction—a weapon for the old ones to force their way back here. Yes, you will be responsible for the end of your world.”

“But I’m just a girl. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

The Saint seemed to soften at the sight of her misery, and bent slightly so he wasn’t quite so imposing. “It is a cruel fate to inflict upon a child, I know, but it is not The Father who did this to you. Those who Manah serves cursed you with your fate, and it is they who are to blame for your suffering. The Father does not wish you hurt; it is just what is necessary. Come to me now, and I will do what must be done and no more. Tormenting you is not my mission.”

“You won’t have her,” Sorrow shouted, then rushed at The Saint.

The Saint kicked out like a mule, hit Sorrow right in his ribs, and sent him flying back against the counter like a truck had hit him. “I shall do as I please.”

“No you won’t!” Indy did the unexpected and soccer-kicked The Saint right in the knee—hard enough to make a loud
cracking
sound—but The Saint barely registered noticing.

“Strike me again, boy, and I will kill you.”

Indy stood his ground, raising his hand with the red and white umbrella tattoo and shaking it, but Scarlet quickly pulled him back. “Get away from him; he’ll kill you.”

“I’ll kick his balls in, Scar. Just say the word.”

“No one is getting hurt because of me.” She took a step towards the man who wished to kill her and took a deep breath. She just wanted this to be over. “It won’t hurt?”

The Saint shook his head with all the compassion of an elderly school teacher. “I can make you dream, child. I will fill your heart with joy and make it seem like an eternity, but you must come to me now. Your life must end so that others do not.”

Scarlet took another step forwards—almost in her attacker’s clutches.

Sorrow stirred on the ground and let out a moan. Indy protested loudly, but she ignored them both. This was the only way to ensure they didn’t get hurt. If it was all true, then what choice did she have? She would rather die than be the reason for millions of deaths.

“Get back!” Mr Chester came hurrying out of the back area holding something in his hands. It was a burning candle—long, white, and tall—and looked like it had been smothered in blood. The massive gash on Mr Chester’s forearm suggested that it came from him. “You enter this place uninvited, in a realm not your own. As the lord of this hold, I bid you depart. Begone!”

The Saint sneered and took a step forward, but as his foot was about to make contact with the floorboards, it hovered. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his foot down, but he was seemingly unable. It was as if an invisible step lay beneath his foot.

Mr Chester hurried forward with his gory candle. “Be gone, servant! Return to your masters.”

The Saint growled, yet moved his foot backwards obediently. He started walking backwards and didn’t stop until he had moved back into the shop’s doorway. “You will not obstruct me, human. I am doing the Father’s work, here to ensure your future. Give me the girl. She is an abomination.”

Mr Chester placed his arm around Scarlet and pulled her towards the counter, but he kept his eyes on The Saint the whole time and still held the candle out in front of him. “You are incorrect. She
is
just
a girl, and until she becomes anything else, I will not let you harm her. By the blood of the Father and of my own flesh, move from sight.”

“You will regret this, blood mage.”

“Perhaps, but not now and not today. Begone!”

The Saint turned around and slowly retreated. A small assemblage of gobsmacked spectators stood outside on the high street, but Mr Chester hurriedly locked the front doors and snapped the shutters closed to put an end to their entertainment.

Once he was done securing his shop, he turned around with a ghastly expression on his face. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“How did you make him leave, boss?” Indy was trembling like a leaf, but he was visibly impressed by his usually bookish yet suddenly heroic employer.

Mr Chester had begun wrapping his forearm in a bandage and seemed to have gone grey with worry. “By using forces that are supposed to be forbidden, Indy. The only remnants of magic still left in this world are within each of us. Specifically, within our blood. When the Father cast the Great Spell to eradicate all magic, he left a tiny remainder in human beings. Our souls cannot exist without magic, so to eradicate it entirely would leave us no different from animals. Witches, warlocks, seers, and all other practitioners of magic, perform their spells exclusively through the use of blood. Blood magic only works with sacrifice. Bigger the spell, larger the sacrifice. I have not used the black arts since I was a younger man, and it has tainted me to do so now, but I saw little alternative. I need time to think things through.”

“You saved us,” said Indy. “It was pretty badass.”

“No,” said Scarlet. “You saved
me
, and I didn’t need saving. I was ready to end this. Sorrow is a demon, The Saint is a supernatural assassin, and I’m The Spark. I need to die to keep the world safe from magic. I get it.”

“No way, Scar. You can’t let that dickhead kill you.”

“I’m going to end the world, Indy. Don’t you understand? If I live, everybody dies. That’s right isn’t it, Mr Chester?”

He nodded gravely.

Indy stamped his foot. “To hell with all that. If your destiny sucks, then change it. My dad said I couldn’t get a Playstation 4, so you know what I did? I got this job and saved up, then bought one myself. Screw my dad, I said. Did I go in a strop because he said no to me? Hell no, I did something about it.”

Scarlet shook her head. “How is that in any way the same thing, Indy?”

He looked at her like she was an idiot. “Eh, because somebody told me I couldn’t get a Playstation 4, and I got one anyway. It’s the exact same thing. Somebody is saying that you’re going to destroy the world, so don’t. Do something else instead. Don’t accept what someone else is telling
you
about
you
. You’re the boss of Scarlet. You want a Playstation 4? Go get one!”

“He makes a certain kind of sense,” said Mr Chester, pulling the last inch of bandage tight and pinning it securely.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, eh, whatever you say, Indy.” Then she looked into the office where Sorrow was now unconscious on the desk. “Even if I try to change things, The Saint is going to kill me. Sorrow was sent here to protect me, but he’s failed every time.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” said Indy. “I call that a success. Blondie comes back, you still have me and Mr Chester to defend you. No reason to give up yet.”

“I think it’s time to drop the
Mr
,” said Mr Chester. “I hate Miles, so you can call me by my last name only. Indy is right, Scarlet, we still have options. The spell I cast will keep The Saint out for a while; I will create something more permanent in the meantime. My colleagues will be here soon. They can help.”

“Help with what?” Scarlet shouted. “Your colleagues want me dead. I’m the bad guy, remember? Why would they help me?”

“Because
I’m
going to help you,” he said. “We will figure something out; I give you my solemn promise.”

She sighed, but eventually nodded. “When do your friends get here?”

“
Colleagues
, and tomorrow morning, I hope. The White Order is sending one of their most knowledgeable shamans.”

“I can’t stay here until morning,” she said.

Chester chewed at his lip and folded his arms, but then unfolded them. “I suppose you’re right. Your father will be expecting you home, and we can’t involve him in this. Just give me an hour, and I’ll have something ready to help keep you safe. You can’t mention any of this to your father, Scarlet, do you understand? If the world found out about the true nature of things, it wouldn’t go well at all. It’s bad enough that Indy knows.”

Indy seemed unaffected by the comment, and asked a question. “So do vampires exist?”

“About as much as the Easter Bunny does. The world is much as you understand it, but there are forces acting against its boundaries all the time, trying to make everything topple. Those are the secrets of which the world can know nothing. Protecting our existence is a task better left to the few. Things are delicate. They always have been.”

Scarlet sat down and lowered her face into her hands.

Indy went over to her and started rubbing her back. “You know, if you’re stressed, I have the perfect way of relax-”

She looked up at him. “Seriously, Indy? Please, don’t hit on me right now.”

He nodded. “Understood. Maybe later?”

“Sure. If I’m alive this time next week, you can give me every line you have in your sticky, black book.”

“It’s a date.”

There was a deep bellow from the office and everybody sprang into action. Indy immediately went and stood in front of Scarlet, true to his word about defending her. Chester did the same.

The noise came from Sorrow.

It looked like he was still sleeping, eyelids flickering and head thrashing from side to side. An unpleasant dream had captured him, and he was unable to escape into wakefulness. His mouth puckered as he muttered and mumbled, and moaned.

Scarlet watched with unease. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know,” Chester admitted. “Just leave him be.”

She ignored his warning and went into the office. Up close, she could make out some of the words that Sorrow was saying: Bleed her. Make her pay. Without her dragging you down, you can do whatever you want. You’re a football star. She’s just a bitch. Kill her. Stab her right in the neck. That kike, Goldman, too. Do it!

“You should keep your distance, Scarlet,” Chester said as he moved up beside her.

“He’s just having a nightmare,” she whispered.

“No, he’s having a memory. He’s a monster, Scarlet. He talks weak men into vile deeds.”

Scarlet looked at Sorrow’s tormented expression and felt nothing but sympathy. He had done nothing but be kind to her, devoted even, and it was hard to dislike him for things people had only told her. He didn’t seem like a monster, but the things he was saying in his sleep… Were they true? Had he really talked some football player into murder?

Was he really behind September 11
th?

***

“It’s past seven, Boss,” said Indy. “I think I should scoot. Mum’s getting KFC tonight, and you never miss a date with the Colonel. We need to get Scarlet home.”

Chester shifted awkwardly and looked at Scarlet. “There’s really no way your father would allow you to remain here overnight?”

“What excuse could I even give him? I’m having a sleepover?”

“You could say we’re doing inventory.”

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t buy it. Why wouldn’t I have known in advance? He’ll just assume that I’m sneaking off to see some boy.”

“Then I’ll drive you home. Indy, will you be okay getting home? The Saint has no reason to target you.”

Indy slid on his luminous green baseball cap as if it were a cowboy’s Stetson. He left it tilted slightly to one side. “I’ll kick his backside if he does. I’m Kyle Reese, baby.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Indy, but thank you for everything you’ve done today.”

Scarlet added, “Yeah, Indy. You’re a lot cooler than I realised, and a good friend.”

He groaned. “Did you just friend-zone me?”

She chuckled. “It’s a pretty exclusive club, so you should be flattered.”

“I got your back, Scar.” He went over and gave her a hug, then headed out the front door without further ado. With him gone, Scarlet suddenly felt vulnerable. One of her protectors had just left. She turned to Chester. “We should try and wake up Sorrow. If The Saint attacks again…”

“I agree. His job is to protect you, so we’d be foolish to prevent him from doing that.”

They both headed into the back area and then into the office, where Sorrow was now sleeping more soundly.

Chester raised his voice. “Sorrow…? Sorrow? Eh, Manah?”

Scarlet waved at Chester to be quiet. “I’ll wake him up.” Moving over to the desk, where Sorrow was sleeping, she placed a hand against his cheek.
My skin tingles when I am near you.
She leaned over and spoke softly into his ear. “Sorrow, it’s me, Scarlet. I need you to wake up and keep me safe.”

Slowly, his eyes opened, just a fraction at a time. “Scarlet?”

She stroked his cheek tenderly, still finding it impossible to imagine him as a monster—despite having seen his true face only hours before. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s me.”

While in obvious pain, he fought to sit up on the desk. Holding onto her arm, he did not squeeze or pull, but only used her to help his balance. Once upright, he rubbed at his injured side. “The Saint has broken several of my ribs. Is this bad?”

“Eh, well… yeah. It’s bad for a human.”

Sorrow nodded thoughtfully. “I can already feel myself healing. I believe I will be okay. The pain is mild.”

“Can you walk?”

“I believe so.” He hopped off the table. “I am sorry that I failed you, Scarlet. The Saint is strong. His purpose is to fight; mine is to…
whisper.”

She frowned at him. “Whisper? Do you remember who you are now?”

“I remember who I
was
. I was Manah, a creature of vile nature. My mind is filled with bloodshed and suffering, of evil deeds done with gleeful smiles. But that was Manah.”

“Then who are you?”

“I am Sorrow. In your lake I was reborn. I will be no monster. I refuse. So much suffering, at my hands, Scarlet. Enough blood that I will never wash my hands clean, but I can promise to shed no more. You have opened my eyes.”

“Me? How?”

“You were willing to sacrifice yourself to The Saint. You showed me what humanity is capable of—compassion, courage, strength. Centuries spent defiling mankind, and I never once understood its beauty. My memories are fuzzy, but they do not seem my own. I am not Manah. He is gone, and I will never allow him to take another breath.”

Scarlet was about to speak, when she saw Chester standing in the doorway. He seemed intently focused on what Sorrow was saying—perhaps cynical, but obviously emotional.

Sorrow saw him standing there and nodded. “Thank you for protecting Scarlet, Mr Chester. You were right about who I
was
, but wrong about who I
am
.”

Chester looked like he was about to say something, but he only cocked a thumb. “Come on, we need to go. The Saint will return soon.”