Space Angels: find the Gift (complete)

ЄD0Ɲ: Ŧhe Ɗ£Ş£ŔŦ ~ Chapter Twenty-one

Seraphim Landing Zone ~Ŧhe Ɗ£Ş£ŔŦ

20 – the devil in the desert (1090)

Dust billowed as the chariot's wheels skidded to a halt on the desert road a few cubits ahead of Fereshte. Two doors opened at the vehicle's front. Fereshte walked on, her elegant gait and antique robes caused the two men who had emerged to eye each other in puzzlement. Dressed in grubby loose-fitting trousers and tunics they sported weapons constructed of brown wood and long black metal. Her narrator explained the weapons' curved metal cases contained deadly darts, like an archer's quiver.

She nodded to the pair and issued a greeting as she passed, delivered in an older, classical tongue, causing the men to bow in respect. She heard a third door open with a click and then a growling voice, thick with menace, shouting an order.

"Stop!" it commanded.

She turned towards the voice, knowing it belonged to Kaleb.

His eyes struck her first, jet black with fire at their edges – not a fire of passion or anger, but of burning hatred. She noticed his clothing was not traditional like the others: a small cap with a semi-circular brim turned backward, shielding his muscular neck from the unyielding heat, blue breeches made of a stiff cloth and a thin white shirt. He was tall and well-built, a small weapon tucked into his waistband.

{I do not like the look of this one, Fereshte,} Sofiel whispered.

"Where are you going, girl?"

"I am following my destiny," Fereshte replied.

A smile played on Kaleb's lips. It was not a smile of joy or greeting but the mocking smile of a bully who'd cornered his prey.  

"Out here in the wilderness? I do not believe you. Perhaps you know the one I seek and are in league with him."

"I am in league with no man."

"This is not a man but a boy and one who has disobeyed me."

            "What will you do with him when you find him?" Fereshte asked.

"That is none of your concern. He will be sacrificed – a brave soldier who will wreak havoc against the cursed invader. He will be rewarded in paradise."

"But what if he is not ready to do this?"

"Do not question our holy mission, child. We will make him ready. Does this mean you know where he is? Tell us or we will beat you."

Fereshte said nothing, instead giving Kaleb a defiant stare.

He stepped forward and, when he pushed her roughly to the ground, she was surprised at his strength. She fell heavily, creating a small dust cloud with the impact. Sofiel's silent wrath was absolute {What disrespect! I will cleanse him to the bone!}

"No!" Fereshte yelled aloud, and, looking up at Sofiel, then added in Seraph thought, {Remain kindled, Sofiel. I will decide when to act}. But when Kaleb lifted his arm to beat her, she knew she would have to defend herself.

A cry pierced the desert and she turned her head. Ishmael had left his hiding place and was sprinting towards them, arms raised.

 "Kaleb! Leave her! I surrender," he yelled.

The three men turned towards him. Ishmael fell at their feet, his head bowed.

"The rat has come from his hole," Kaleb said smiling.

"Do not harm this girl, Kaleb. It is me you want."

Kaleb pulled the youth's head up by his hair. "You do not know her?"

"No, sir. She is a stranger – not from our village."

"Put him inside!" Kaleb ordered, and his soldiers dragged the boy up, slapping him about the head before they bundled him into the back of the chariot.

Kaleb scowled at the prostrate Fereshte's still defiant face. "Why are you here in the desert alone? Does your father know where you are?"

Fereshte said nothing.

"I'm sure he'd pay a fine ransom for you if you were taken, and it would serve you right for wandering without a man to look after you. Let's hope God protects foolish girls," Kaleb said finally and climbed into the rear of the chariot, shutting the door.

The motor roared and the vehicle pulled away in a cloud of dust. Fereshte dragged herself up, watching its sandy trail grow smaller. She brushed dust from her robes and said, "It is you who will need protection."

{Ishmael was brave wasn't he Fereshte?}Sofiel said with a sigh.

"Yes, he was. He sacrificed himself for me. This planet humbles and sickens me in equal measure."

Fereshte heard Sofiel gasp. {Look behind you, Fereshte.}

Fereshte turned briskly to see a glint in the air above her head. It was a small spinning rod of gold. She opened her mouth in awe, watching its increasing revolutions swiftly propel it away from them.

"Follow it, Sofiel! Fly as fast as you can. Catch it and bring it back. I have to say goodbye to Nani."

Fereshte felt the whoosh of Sofiel's wings as she chased the now distant rod of gold.

    Nani was distraught at Ishmael's abduction. But when Fereshte promised he would return to her before nightfall the old woman became calm.

"I am grateful for my sight, holy angel, but I would give it up for Ishmael's life."

"I know you would. But you do not need to. He will return."

"Thank you, Fereshte. I will pray for you. "

"I am honoured, Nani. But save your prayers for Ishmael."

"I will, child, but take this," she said, removing the shawl from her shoulders. "Even a holy angel will feel the cold of the desert night."

Fereshte allowed her to drape the coloured garment over her, before kissing each of Nani's cheeks and looking into the old woman's eyes.

"When you return to the cave, you will forget me," Fereshte told her. She felt a tug in her chest when Nani left in a trance-like shuffle.

 After descending a dune, Fereshte sat on a rock. She pulled a dried biloba branch from the sand and, using her Object Enchantment ability, fashioned a parasol from the branch and the shawl. Next, she commanded the rock to rise. Her far sight could stretch many leagues, even across Edon's continents and seas; she could easily track the progress of Kaleb's chariot. The hovering boulder carried her swiftly between the dunes, her colourful umbrella shielding her Edon body from the glare.

"This is not your concern, Fereshte," her narrator reminded her. "You should return to your Seraph form and aid Sofiel in catching the spinning rod. It may be what we're seeking."

"Sofiel needs to do something for herself, narrator." She smiled to herself. "And so do I..."

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