The Inner Circle: The Knowing (12 page)

A young woman in a bright yellow dress
stumbled as Ilgrin swooped. She glared with such ferocity that one
would’ve thought he’d personally wronged her. Flaring his wings,
Ilgrin slowed long enough to latch his toes around her arms and
drag her into the air. He’d have a better chance of escaping if he
had a hostage. At first the woman kicked and fought, but as they
ascended higher and higher she began to cling to Ilgrin’s legs,
fearful of falling.

‘
What do you want
from me?’ The girl cried.

‘
My freedom,’ Ilgrin
called over the wind.

‘
Please don’t kill
me,’ she begged.

‘
I’m not going to
kill you,’ Ilgrin said pityingly. ‘I’m no different from anyone
else.’

‘
You’ve kidnapped
me!’ she shouted. ‘I hate you. You’re a demon. I hate
you!’

Taken aback by her excessive display of
aggression, Ilgrin looked down to make eye contact. ‘You don’t even
know me.’

‘
Oh, I know you,’ she
laughed manically, her eyes becoming glassy. ‘Of course I know you!
I have the knowing. I’m Elglair.’

Ilgrin swallowed fearfully. Her
ordinary pupils told a different story, but the claim coupled with
her strange behaviour made him nervous nevertheless. Having gained
sufficient distance from the city Ilgrin banked toward the earth.
‘I’ll put you down,’ he told the woman, his eyes fixed on an empty
field.

‘
Don’t think you’ve
seen the last of me,’ the woman snarled. ‘You’d better remember me.
The day will come that I will slay you. All of you.’

‘
What is wrong with
you?’ Most people would’ve feared and even hated Ilgrin, but nobody
behaved this way. It was as though she’d lost her mind. ‘I’m not
evil!’ Ilgrin exclaimed, after putting the woman down safely in the
middle of the gently sloping field. ‘If I was, I’d have killed
you.’

The woman dropped to her knees and put
a hand to her forehead. ‘What happened?’ She shook her head in
confusion, seemingly having forgotten the whole experience. ‘Who
are . . . ?’ She looked at Ilgrin and screamed.

‘
Stop it.’ Ilgrin
pounced, but the woman fell back, more fearful than before. ‘I’m
sorry. I’m so sorry.’ He raised his hands and backed away. What’d
he done to her? His parents hadn’t raised him to behave with so
little respect for women.

‘
There it is. Kill
it!’ someone shouted from amidst an angry mob hurrying over a rise
across the field.

‘
You’ll be safe now.’
Ilgrin turned away. ‘People are coming. They’ll take care of you.’
He looked at the crowd. To them, he was no different from the
creature that’d attacked the preceding night, a monster. He leapt
into the sky.

After circling the city several times
to confuse anyone that might’ve been tracking him, Ilgrin headed
north. Once he was far enough away from the city, he flew in a wide
semicircle until reaching the southernmost farming district. He
landed in the farthest field at the back of the farm.

‘
Wish me luck,
Mother,’ he whispered at the small grey stone sitting beneath a
large oak tree.

Ilgrin crept through the fields,
staying low and weary of any movement. The distance to the
farmhouse lessened without incident. He pushed open the back door
and moved silently toward the front room.

‘
Mother,’ he called.
‘Fath--’ The word stuck in his throat.

The smell of blood filled Ilgrin’s
nostrils. Baen and Urelie were tied to kitchen chairs. Both had
been beaten almost beyond recognition before finally having had
their throats cut. A deep sob escaped Ilgrin’s lips as he stared
into the dead eyes of the only parents he’d ever known.

‘
No,’ he uttered,
flexing his fingers. ‘Not like this. It doesn’t have to be this
way.’ He marched through sticky red blood and touched his mother’s
face. ‘I brought you back once. I can do it again.’

‘
Now,’ a voice
shouted and a moment later Ilgrin found himself surrounded. The
leader dashed forward with a knife, but Ilgrin leapt aside causing
the man to miss by a handswidth. He snapped his hand around the
man’s neck and tossed him through the wall, which exploded in a
shower of wooden debris. The man did not get up.

The other three charged. Ilgrin flared
his wings threateningly, but knew he couldn’t defend himself
properly in such confines. One of the men swung a sword, but it was
wielded clumsily and without confidence. Ilgrin beat his wings
once, raised his feet and kicked him in the chest. The man yelped
as he sailed across the room. The other two imposters were stunned,
allowing Ilgrin to take the opportunity to escape.

He ran for the door, yanked it open and
leapt outside. There a fifth man was waiting. Ilgrin was taken so
by surprise that he was left without time to react. The man threw
back his arm and plunged a blade into Ilgrin’s shoulder, causing
him to cry out in pain. He grasped the man’s head and slammed it so
hard into the doorframe that it splintered the wood. Ilgrin
stumbled away with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at his fingers
to find them dripping with dark blue blood.

Fearing loss of consciousness, Ilgrin
ran from his attackers. He beat his wings, but his shoulder
screamed in protest, keeping him grounded. Something hit the back
of his head, sending him sprawling on hands and knees. Ilgrin
rolled onto his back, despite the discomfort the position brought
his wings and shoulder. A small group of men surrounded him,
carrying pitchforks and ancient swords. They looked rather proud of
themselves. They’d caught a fearsome demon.

‘
Go on then,’ Ilgrin
choked out exhaustedly. ‘You’ve taken everything else.’

As spots danced across his vision
one of the men lifted a pitchfork above his head, but before he
could bring it down a deep rumbling sound stole his attention. The
men turned around, their faces filling with terror. Their cries of
alarm filled Ilgrin’s ears as they ran down the street. He turned
to see what’d so frightened them. The monster from the day before
slid its beak through Ilgrin’s trail of blood. It seemed confused,
glancing at him once before screeching and continuing after his
attackers.

‘
Okay,’ Ilgrin
whispered. ‘Get up.’ But his body refused, the loss of blood having
left him light-headed and weak. ‘Get up,’ he panted, finally
rolling over onto hands and knees to crawl away from the road. But
to do so had been a mistake. The creature must’ve thought him as
good as dead, but now that it had seen him moving it banked sharply
in his direction. With what little strength remained, Ilgrin dove
behind some dense shrubbery lining a rickety old fence. Spots
played across his vision as the creature descended and darkness
closed in.

Revelation 12

7. And there was war in Hae'Evun:
Mi’Chael and his silts fought against the Devil, and the Devil
fought with his silts, and prevailed not, their place could no
longer be found in Hae'Evun.

8. And the great demon was cast out,
that old silt, called the Devil, and Sa’Tan, which deceiveth the
whole world: he was cast out into the Earth for eternity and his
silts were cast out with him.

12. And I heard a loud voice speaking
within the Ways, Therefore rejoice, ye Hae'Evun, and ye who dwell
there. Woe to the inhabitants of the Earth and the sea! For the
Devil has come down unto you, having great wrath, because he
knoweth that he hath but a short time.

13. And when the
Devil saw that he was cast unto the Earth, he persecuted a woman
who could bring forth no child.

14. And to the woman was given the
white of the middle eye, that she might escape to the frozen
places, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and a half
time, from the face of the Devil.

15. And the Devil cast out darkness
from the silent bodies after the woman, that he might cause her to
be carried away in death.

16. But the Ways helped the woman, and
the Ways opened up at her fingertips, and she caused the Devil
great distress, his will being fruitless against her.

17. And the Devil was wroth with the
woman, and went to make war with the remnant, which keep the
commandments of Maker, and have his eternal blessing in the frozen
places where he hath sent them.

Scriptures of the Holy Tome

CHAPTER Eight

Master Fasil

S
eteal
picked herself up, dusted off her dress, and gazed into the clouds
in time to glimpse the silt fading against the declining sun. A
moment later, she was surrounded.

‘
Are you all right
there, missy?’ a man asked, placing a hand on Seteal’s
shoulder.

‘
I’m fine.’ Seteal
turned to face a middle-aged man in attire befitting a commoner.
His breath was foul and his flesh was that of someone who’d spent
too many years in the sun, but his eyes were kindly so Seteal
adjusted her tone accordingly. ‘I’m sorry. You startled
me.’

‘
It didn’t hurt you,
did it?’ The man narrowed his eyes worriedly. ‘Pretty little thing
like you.’

‘
No, I’m fine, thank
you,’ she reassured the man, all the while discreetly trying to
wipe away tears.

‘
How rude of me,’ the
man grunted. ‘I’m Master Fasil.’ He took Seteal’s hand and kissed
it gingerly.

‘
Seteal,’ she
replied, retrieving her hand a little too hastily for common
courtesy.

‘
And whom, may I ask,
do you belong to?’

‘
Belong to?’ Seteal
cringed. ‘I’m afraid you’ve been mistaken. I don’t belong to
anyone.’

‘
Pretty little thing,
but none too bright,’ Master Fasil belly laughed. ‘It’s always that
way with the better ones.’

‘
I really must be
getting back,’ Seteal excused herself.

‘
That’s exactly my
point!’ Fasil bent over and laughed so hard that he belched. ‘I
left my carriage by the road on the other side of the field and I’d
hate to see you getting into any more trouble. I’ll give you a ride
wherever it is you’ve got to go.’

‘
Thank you, but no,’
Seteal stepped back in a vain attempt to avoid the man’s pervasive
breath. ‘I’ll make my own way.’ Master Fasil had somehow managed to
keep Seteal occupied long enough that the crowd had dispersed. It
was only when she began taking hurried strides across the field
that she realised almost everyone was gone.

Seteal trotted through the long grass.
She wouldn’t run. She needn’t look a fool. But she had to hurry,
didn’t she? The man wasn’t normal. There was something off about
him. Blood rushed by Seteal’s ears. She scarcely breathed, focusing
instead on reaching the road . . . a road that was completely
abandoned.

‘
Come on, missy,’ the
man called as he hurried after her. ‘Don’t be like that.’ He
grabbed Seteal’s arm and yanked her to a stand-still. ‘I just want
to help. It’s really no bother.’

‘
No!’ Seteal shouted,
a fearful lump growing in her chest. ‘Get away from me!’ She tore
free of Fasil’s grip. Appearing foolish no longer mattered. She no
longer had suspicions, but reasons to be fearful.

Master Fasil grabbed a handful of
Seteal’s hair and with a force that stung her scalp, snapped back
her head. He put his arms around her and blew his rancid breath in
her face. ‘You needn’t have been that way, young missy.’ His tone
was one of hurt. ‘I’m very gentle with good girls.’ As the words
escaped his lips, Seteal felt him tracing a blade along her neck
and down her breasts. ‘But you’ve been a naughty girl.’

‘
Let me go,’ Seteal
gasped. ‘Please!’ The word erupted from her lips, a desperate plea
encased by raw emotion. Master Fasil slid his hand down her belly
and reached lower to touch her inappropriately.

‘
Get off me! Get off
me! Get off me!’ Seteal shrieked, struggling against the man’s
grip, fearing a fate worse than death. She drove her elbow into his
stomach and managed to break free, but as she turned to run, a
clammy hand snatched at her wrist. Pulling hard, Seteal freed
herself a second time and caught off balance Master Fasil tumbled
to the ground. Seteal threw herself in the opposite direction but
he grasped her ankle and she fell onto her elbows, grazing them in
the grass. And then her life was over.

At first, she fought back. She slapped
him. In response, he beat her face until it was hot and bruised and
swollen. She punched him. He choked her and slammed her head
against the earth until blood gushed from her nose and her throat
became almost impossible to breathe through. He violated her,
pushing himself into her. He put his weight on her back and drove
her face into the earth with every thrust. Seteal stopped
fighting--not because she didn’t want to, but because her mind shut
down, receding into a place of solitude. The pain formed a rhythm,
misery to a beat that sang a jeering tune. Seteal squeezed her eyes
shut and screamed for it all to end through a throat that couldn’t
make a sound.

The rhythm changed. He moaned in
pleasure, pushed her away and stared down at her as though she
carried an incurable disease. Seteal was covered in mud. There was
blood between her thighs. At first she wondered if he’d cut her,
but that wasn’t it. Seteal rolled onto her side, gingerly putting
her legs together and staring into the man’s eyes. They made
contact for a brief moment, but he looked away to pull up his
trousers.