Airel: The Awakening (Airel Saga Book One)

Chapter XXVII

KREIOS AND YAMANU JOINED Zedkiel at the headwaters of the Two Rivers, and it didn’t take long to assess their situation. Maria needed rest and help. They would have to split up. Adding to their urgency was Zedkiel’s report that their encampment had been detected not long ago. In the darkest phase of the night, he’d heard the watchful breathing of a Brotherhood scout over the susurration of the rivers.

The three angels silently but speedily packed their small camp, burying the fire and anything else that might leave a trail. Kreios knew they had been spotted, but he didn’t want to throw any bones to the dogs. Since they had a Shadower with them, he knew that the Brotherhood could only track them by following their physical trail—but only if they left one. 

Kreios glanced at Maria, then Zedkiel. Maria was obviously exhausted, but travel was a necessary evil. No amount of rest would rejuvenate her until she delivered the baby. She needed skilled help for the remainder of her pregnancy or she could die along with her baby. 

Then Zedkiel announced his decision. “No need to worry about hiding the camp. We must take to the sky and rely upon Yamanu, that he will indeed hide us from the reconnaissance of the Seer.” He shoved the last of the deer jerky into his pack, tied the drawstring, and slung it over his shoulder. His face was drawn tight with worry, but when Kreios smiled he loosened up, bringing back the sparkle in his eyes. 

Yamanu broke in. “Do not be troubled, my old friends. I am as strong as I ever have been, and in the presence of the Sword of Light, my gift shall be even more powerful. The enemy clans will have been wandering in the woods for days by the time they realize we are gone.” He snapped his fingers and shadow dust floated in the air, shedding foggy blackness. Whenever he moved, it fell off his body to the ground. 

Kreios was itching to go. “The time for talking has now passed us by. We must move. I can feel their army near; they must be no farther than over the nearest rise to the west, and they are moving fast. It will be impossible to fight them in the air while also keeping my daughter and Maria safe. It will leave us outnumbered, with too much distraction from the fight.” Kreios possessed a practical mind, but now he seemed like he had no sense of humor at all. The message was received. This was not a game.

Their mounts would hide themselves deep in the wood, far from where any man would tread. Kreios, removing bridles and saddles, sent the horses away with a glance, placing his daughter carefully in her little sling.

The angels rose slowly from the ground in battle formation: Kreios on point, Zedkiel tenderly carrying Maria at his right hand and Yamanu on his left, already difficult to see. The air was cool under the brightness of a full moon. A touch of spring could already be felt, a prophecy of hope to them. 

Kreios looked to the west. The unholy flicker of Brotherhood war torches, fueled as always by the fat of swine, greeted his gaze. Black and gray mist hovered around the angelic troika, fingers of dark smoke, masking them in shadow. They quickly faded into the night sky. 

Turning north, soaring like eagles on desert updrafts, the travelers coasted gracefully toward a city to which they had never been. They hoped and prayed it did exist. They hoped more fervently that Yamanu’s gift would be effective, that the secret city would remain a secret.

The sword grew warm against Kreios’ back. An idea surfaced in his mind that the Sword knew the way home and would lead them.

He breathed in, a sigh of relief that he allowed to become tainted with hesitation. There was something else, too. Something that he had been avoiding. The Sword was definitely connected to his daughter—he had been feeling that very clearly, and it was obvious why. After all, why not? She was her father’s daughter. Why shouldn’t she too be able to wield it when she was ready? Kreios therefore struggled with the very notion that he might one day share the responsibility of the Sword of Light with another, especially since up to now he had been flattering himself that it had been forged for him alone.

He pushed away from these troubles. They were for another day under the sun. For now, he would not rest until he was sure they were safe, having arrived in the safest place on earth.