The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun by Cael McIntosh
*
Seeol watched Seteal and the stranger dragging a large wooden box into her house. He felt sad. Seteal was so upset and he didn't know how to make her feel better. It was so cruel of the Ways to take away her father on the night of her return.
People made excuses to linger on the road in front of Seteal's house. He moved the feathers of his facial disk to better capture their voices from his place far above. 'It is awfully suspicious that he died on the same night of her return,' an older woman said snippily as she tightened her bonnet.
'I know,' a second replied. 'Mistress Tess told me that she saw the girl go inside and then heard the pistol go off. And I must say, Mister Eltari never struck me as one to take his own life. His daughter, on the other hand--'
'Oh, yes.' the first woman cut her off with a hand to her lips. 'I taught her to read, you know, and I have to agree she always was a little strange, even back then.'
On the other side of the street, a similar conversation was taking place between two fat men with excessively large moustaches. Seeol swooped toward the gossiping women and landed at their feet.
'Seteal is the bestest and most loveliest and you is naughty bad silly people talking . . . stupid things!' he shouted furiously before returning to his tree. That'd shut their stupid faces up! Seeol watched in satisfaction as the villagers scurried away, their faces reflecting bewilderment.
CHAPTER Seven
lost
'El-i-miir!' Ilgrin shouted through a raw throat for what felt like the thousandth time. 'El-i-miir!'
'Ilgrin,' Teah said sharply, slapping a hand down on his shoulder. 'We've been combing these woods for days. I'm tired.'
'Me, too,' Ilgrin acknowledged the angel's frustration, without fully understanding her meaning. 'El-i-miir!' he shouted again.
'Ilgrin,' Teah snapped. 'Your wing is fit for flight.'
'Thank Maker,' he said distractedly. 'We'll be able to leave as soon as we find her.'
'Don't you think maybe it's time to consider that maybe--'
'No,' Ilgrin barked. 'We will not give up on her. I won't.' He waved a finger in the angel's face, blinking away the beginnings of tears. 'I won't give up on her and neither will you, because she's out here somewhere. She's scared and alone and I promised I'd come back for her.'
Teah rolled her eyes in exasperation. 'There are more important matters to be dealt with.'
'Like what?' Ilgrin raged.
'All right.' Teah took a few steps back. 'You really want to know? Fine. Follow me,' she hissed before spinning into the air with broad wing strokes. She reached the lower branches of one of the highest trees before turning to wave Ilgrin up and continued climbing by hand and foot.
Ilgrin sprang into the air and alighted where Teah had been standing moments earlier. As disconnected as he'd always felt from his own kind, Ilgrin never had quite grasped the purpose of their extreme strength. Watching Teah climb gave him the answer. Following the angel's speedy ascent, Ilgrin dug his fingers and toes into the bark and started his ascension.
The trunk swayed gently as he pierced the canopy, nearing the top of the tree. When he found Teah resting on a slender branch, Ilgrin swung his weight through the air, spread his toes and clamped them around the same branch. 'What're we looking at?' he asked too soon, already having found the answer to his question.
'Now do you understand?' Teah murmured.
'So far north?' Ilgrin said nervously, watching the mighty black whisp clouds of Old World churning steadily. His eyes fell to the dark shadow moving through the trees no more than several miles to the south. 'Why is it doing that?'
'I know you don't believe in any of this,' Teah said sadly, 'but this is just another sign spoken of in the Holy Tome. "The great cloud filled with sins collected since the beginning will be raised up from the south." Maker has returned to us in the form of His Holy Spirit and we must go to Her.'
'Teah, I . . .'
'I know.' She sighed. 'You have to find El-i-miir, but don't you see? She's not here anymore. It's time to consider that maybe she's--'
'Don't say it,' Ilgrin cut her off.
'I was only going to say that maybe she headed back to Elmsville on her own.' Teah frowned. 'You don't need to be so protective. I've known a few gils in my time and her mastery of the Ways is unparalleled.'
Ilgrin looked away. 'She wouldn't leave without me.'
'Are you sure of that?' Teah asked. 'Maybe she recognises the signs as well as I do. You once told me she'd been raised in a religious family. Perhaps she's beginning to accept the fact that your relationship has no future. For that matter, maybe you should, too.'
'I don't believe this "loving Maker" you trust in so much would tear us apart like that.'
'Loving!' Teah burst out laughing. 'Oh, sure, the Holy Tome mentions a loving Maker a few times, but more often than not He's referred to as a wrathful or vengeful Maker. We must love and obey Him, but nobody ever said He had to follow the same rules. He doesn't care about your human love affair. Maker is more concerned with justice and balance to the Ways than He is with our pathetic little problems.'
'If she thought I'd gone,' Ilgrin mused, 'she would have headed after Seteal.' Perhaps Teah was right. After all, they'd been searching for days. 'But if she'd wanted to find me, the Ways would've guided her.'
'Exactly,' Teah said empathetically.
'So she's either gone off on her own, or she's . . .' Ilgrin couldn't finish. 'All right.' He nodded slowly. 'Let's go and find Seteal.'
*
El-i-miir dropped her spoon into a bowl of porridge and watched it flick back over the edge. She saw the big lump of goo fly through the air and splatter across Jisinia's face. 'Ouch.' The woman got to her feet and scrapped at her face in an effort to wipe away the hot substance.
'I'm so sorry,' El-i-miir called from the bed, but her heart wasn't in the apology. She was still distracted by a shuddering light that'd passed through her aura just moments earlier. Ilgrin had given up on her. She'd felt the moment when he'd decided to leave and had never felt so utterly alone.
'That's all right, dear,' Jisinia replied, hurrying from the room in search of a wet cloth. When she returned she had a bright red spot in the middle of her forehead.
'Really,' El-i-miir repeated. 'I'm sorry. It must have slipped. You've all been so kind to me and in return you end up with a spoon of porridge thrown in your face.'
'Honestly, it's okay,' Jisinia insisted, before inhaling sharply and again turning to leave. 'I'll be back.'
Ordinarily, El-i-miir couldn't read thoughts, but in this case it'd been pretty obvious the woman was in desperate need of some cold water. El-i-miir retrieved another scoop and raised it to her lips, pausing to blow on the surface. She felt the warm steam, but had lost her appetite. She put the spoon back and rolled out of bed with a hand covering the bandages on the side of her chest. 'I have to go,' El-i-miir muttered as she entered the kitchen where she found Jisinia washing her face.
'Pardon?' The woman pulled her head away and flushed red with embarrassment. 'You mustn't leave yet.' She took hold of El-i-miir's arm. 'You're still not well.'
'I have to find someone.' El-i-miir ignored the woman when she tried to argue. She was beyond hearing. So distracted El-i-miir had been by the feeling she'd received in regards to Ilgrin that she'd been temporarily blinded to the remainder of the Ways.
Jisinia's mouth moved continuously as El-i-miir stood spellbound by the invisible streak of red light slicing through the window. She was an expert at interpreting the Ways, but even El-i-miir had a hard time believing the message shining through. 'Get down!' El-i-miir shouted, diving toward Jisinia and slamming her to the ground.
Glass shattered into thousands of pieces as Divad sailed through the windowpane and slammed into the opposite wall. His body was covered in blood and his eyes were filled with shock. The front door swung open as Barnin entered the house accompanied by screams coming in from the dirt road outside.
'They're here,' he
They'd all known it was only a matter of time before the silt invasion reached them, but now that the day had come, it felt like it'd done so too soon. 'Out the back,' El-i-miir urged the others, wincing at the popped stitches in her side. There was blood on her hand to match the bandages covering her wound. 'I'll distract them.'
'We can't just leave you here,' Jisinia objected.
'Please,' El-i-miir gasped at the pain in her side. 'There are things I can do.'
'We're not going anywhere,' Divad rasped as he dusted himself off and clambered to his feet.
'You don't understand,' El-i-miir pleaded with him.
'No,' Barnin said firmly. 'We're the reason you're in this situation to begin with.'
Outside there was an explosion and moments later El-i-miir heard the sound of crackling flames accompanied by the smell of thick smoke. 'They're burning us out,' she murmured, closing her eyes to gather herself. 'Everyone stay behind me and don't do anything stupid.'
With a single fluid motion El-i-miir threw open the front door ran out into the sunlight. The Ways howled a warning. El-i-miir grabbed Jisinia's arm and yanked her sharply to the side. As she did so a gun popped and the bullet whizzed passed. Pushing the woman aside, El-i-miir leapt forward and tripped Divad over. Silt toes missed him by a handswidth.
'Quickly!' El-i-miir shouted, limping only a few paces before tripping over her baggy pants.
'Gotcha!' An excited young silt leapt around the corner and levelled his pistol at El-i-miir's face. She threw up her hands and his aura was shattered by affiliation. The silt cocked his gun and blew his brains out.
'This way,' El-i-miir encouraged the others to follow her between two buildings. A demon swooped low, wrapped his toes around Barnin's shoulders and lifted him into the air, but El-i-miir affiliated the silt into releasing him. The man toppled a few strides back to the ground, but seemed fine other than having developed a slight limp.
The four poured into the centre of town to witness a scene that El-i-miir was sorry to acknowledge she'd become accustomed to. Humans were yanked into the air only to be released to plummet to their inevitable demise: the demons' preferred method of assassination. They did not discriminate between men, women, and children when they made their kills.
El-i-miir ignored the throbbing in her side as she spun around, tossing tendrils of affiliation in every direction. She ducked bullets before they came, refusing again to suffer the agony she'd faced in recent days.
'Barnin!' El-i-miir screamed as she felt a black powder bomb being dropped too late. The old man's eyes met with hers as he was engulfed in flames, having strayed too close to the targeted house.
'Barnin!' Jisinia screamed hysterically as she watched her husband running about howling. No part of his body was free of flames. Finally, the man fell on his face and became very still. Jisinia fell to her knees, leaving El-i-miir with no option but to drag her back up.
'We have to keep going!' she cried. 'We have to . . . Divad!' She turned in time to see a silt snapping his neck before El-i-miir had the chance to take possession. The young man hit the earth and Jisinia fell on top of him in mourning. 'I'm sorry,' El-i-miir backed away, her eyes glancing nervously about the sky. 'I'm sorry, Jisinia. I tried, but I will not stay here and die with you.'
'Go!' Jisinia shouted through tears. 'I don't want to live.'
'I don't care,' E-i-miir snapped, affiliating the woman and driving her to her feet. The women hurried to the western end of town and kept running. An older legion soldier crashed down and snarled, lifting his gun. But again El-i-miir made him shoot himself instead, her eyes filled with tears for what they were making her do. Perhaps it was for that reason she didn't see what was coming. And maybe she hadn't felt it because she was already affiliating Jisinia , or because she was exhausted.
A demon landed gracefully and having spotted El-i-miir's weakness, slammed a fist into her side. She cried out in pain and lost her hold on Jisinia! 'Leave her alone,' she heard the woman shout, leaping at the demon. The woman's body landed beside El-i-miir with vacant eyes.
With spots on her vision, El-i-miir rolled onto her back and looked into the female demon's eyes. She raised her pistol and levelled it at her face. 'No,' El-i-miir whispered, taking a weak hold of the silt's mind. So feeble was the hold that she could neither make the demon lower her weapon or fly away. A second silt landed and El-i-miir gritted her teeth as she affiliated that one, too. Then came a third and a fourth and a fifth.
Pushing herself to her feet proved to be difficult and El-i-miir almost lost hold of those surrounding her. If she could focus on just one, then perhaps she could find a way out. She clambered toward a young male silt with a pretty face and made him wrap his arms around her.
'Get me out of here,' the silt whispered in unison with El-i-miir.
Moments later, she felt the breeze on her face as the two stole away from the horrific scene below. When they'd made some ground, El-i-miir felt her other strands snapping. Keeping her eyes open was hard work, but she needed to focus on beating her wings and holding on to the woman in her arms. He looked down at the Elglair woman. He pitied herself. The pain in their side was almost unbearable. El-i-miir forgot to beat her wings and for a moment the two dipped out of uncontrol.
'I must hold on,' she said through his mouth. 'I must . . .'
El-i-miir felt the wind whipping through her hair as she freefell. Her eyes flickered open against the wind to see the silt swooping about in confusion above, the strand tethering them together becoming increasingly weak. He glanced at the falling human. Was he supposed to save her or kill her? Weren't they the enemy? Hadn't the legion trained him to feel nothing for these humans? No! He was supposed to rescue her. He . . . he was her.
El-i-miir retracted her wings and dove toward the pale human as she came increasingly closer to the ground. He threw forward his toes and snatched her back into his arms. El-i-miir felt herself in his strong grip and knew she'd saved herself. He was proud of himself for that. 'I'm okay,' the silt mumbled. 'I've got me.'
The rhythm of their wings slowed in preparation to land as El-i-miir felt her strength waning. They landed on strong silt legs and lowered the tired Elglair body into the grass. 'I have to sleep now,' the silt murmured as El-i-miir rolled onto her side, a hand placed protectively over her wound.
The affiliation snapped and the Ways sang sadist songs in preparation of delivering her fate. She rolled onto her back as the silt tore out his pistol. He was enraged at having been manipulated. She could see it in his eyes. The demon bared his teeth and put the pistol half a handswidth from El-i-miir's face.
His features were not dissimilar to Ilgrin's and for a moment El-i-miir was tricked into thinking it was him. For just a moment. Muscles tensed. His fingers squeezed. El-i-miir pushed through the pain with a final desperate cry. A pathetically feeble thread slid into the silt's arm. The demon's eyes widened in fear as he turned the gun against himself.
'No!' He cried in perfect harmony with El-i-miir. They pulled the trigger. Blood and chunks of bone blew into the air. At last she could rest.
CHAPTER Eight
A funeral
The scrubbing brush had turned red. By that point, it was probably replacing as much blood as it was removing. All the same, Seteal continued on in her feverish effort to clean the floorboards. A bead of sweat fell to mingle with the watery red puddle.
'Seteal,' Rarmin called in from outside. She ignored him in the hope that he would go away. She didn't want what he had come to give her. 'I'll just leave it by the door, okay then? All right. I'll see you later,' the man finished, allowing Seteal to release a breath held too long. His footfall thudded down the front steps and vanished.
Seteal splashed the brush down into the bucket and made her way outside. She walked passed what Rarmin had left by the door and slopped the contents of her bucket over the landing. She moved back to the front door, keeping her eyes straight ahead, but came to an abrupt stop, her feet to
After carving it from oak, Rarmin had polished it to perfection. The fumes from the polish were overpowering and Seteal's nose began to itch. She stared at the coffin for a long time before dragging it inside where she tiptoed around Gifn's drying blood. His chair housed naught but the small bundle she'd left in it, Mister Naa having collected her father's coffin earlier. When Seteal picked up the bundle, she did so carefully, so as to avoid losing either half of Parrowun. Dead people belonged in coffins. Little babies did not.
After replacing Parrowun in her father's chair, Seteal hurried next door and retrieved a wooden crate from the workshop. It was a sturdy box, similar to the one she'd used travelling back to Elmsville. 'That's better.' Seteal smiled as she placed Parrowun within. 'You'll be more comfortable in here. You're only sleeping now.'
Seteal felt for Parrowun's face and pulled the blankets aside so that he wouldn't suffocate. His skin had turned a strange greyish yellow and the smell of decay was almost overwhelming. All the same, Seteal ignored it and stroked his soft blond hair before putting the lid on the box and taking it outside. She found a shovel in the workshop and dug a hole beside the largest tree in the yard.
The work was hard and the earth even harder, but Seteal worked tirelessly until it was at least a stride deep. She sat on the grass and stared into the hole. She looked at the box, then again at the hole. If Parrowun was in danger of being smothered by his blanket, he almost certainly wouldn't be able to breath beneath all that dirt. Maybe Seteal should've dug a shallower hole.
'For Maker's sake, he's dead,' she reprimanded herself before lowering the box into the earth. Although she'd only cast her eyes upon them once, Seteal's memory of the ugly red welts around Parrowun's neck was still fresh. Perhaps it always would be.
'For what it's worth,' Seteal said as she rose to her feet, 'I loved you for every minute that I had with you and will do so for the rest of my life.' It wasn't much of a speech, but what did a mother say at her child's burial when it had been she who'd taken his life? After the hole had been refilled, Seteal took Rarmin's carefully prepared coffin to the workshop and smashed it into little pieces with a hammer. She then filled her bucket and resumed scrubbing blood from the floorboards.