Higher Power (Prophecy Of The Cataclysm Book One), page 19
Many people believed Reaper was a manifestation of Ishkael, the God Below, the ‘evil’ god, which was why those who followed him were so maligned by ‘polite’ society. Brandon could say with absolute certainty this was not so. For he had heard the call of Ishkael when he was young, before he became a Brother, and turned his back on it.
The hall began a gently sloping descent until it opened out into a wide cavern below the earth.
“I will leave you now,” the Brother said.
“Be sure to take good care of our horses,” Brandon said. “Especially the old mare. She’s very dear to me and I fully intend on coming back for her.”
“Of course.” The Brother inclined his head, then retreated into the hall.
“What was that all about?” Selene asked, eyeing him narrowly.
“What was what all about?” Brandon asked with an air of wide eyed innocence.
“The Brother treated you with respect,” Simon said. “Even deference. Why? What did he read in your tattoo to make him act that way?”
Brandon studied his nails. “I’d rather not say if it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s not all the same to me.” Simon took a menacing step forward and it was all Brandon could do not to laugh.
“A person is entitled to their secrets,” Nephima said, coming to stand beside Brandon. “You have no right to try and pry them from him.”
“Since I’m about to embark on a desperate and dangerous journey with the two of you, I think maybe I do have a right to pry into his secrets,” Simon said. “And yours, as well. I appreciate what you both did at the manor, standing with me to face the nightmare. But I don’t understand it. As I don’t understand why a demon should have found either of you to be a threatening foe. Excuse me for saying so, but neither one of you would be considered particular intimidating by a human being, let alone a creature of the aether.”
Brandon’s fingers twitched. A politely worded insult was still an insult and he did not appreciate being disparaged for his relatively small stature. Worse still, the man had insulted Nephima and Brandon did not take kindly to that at all.
“Simon, please.” Anastasia lay a hand on his arm. “These people saved my life. I think we can trust them. Besides, we may need all the help we can get to stop the Cataclysm.”
Simon glared at Brandon and Nephima a moment longer before turning away. “You’re right,” he brushed the back of Anastasia’s hand with his fingers, “as always.” He smiled at her. “Ever the level headed one.”
She smiled back. “Someone has to be.”
Off to the side, Selene scowled at them, though neither seemed to notice. And Loren, ever steadfast and silent, glowered at her behind her back. Brandon grinned. Oh yes, this was certainly going to be an interesting adventure.
Anastasia turned to Brandon. “How do we summon Reaper?”
“It’s simple, really.” Brandon moved into the center of the room and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Reaper, we seek audience with you.”
For a long moment, the only sound in the cavern was of their own breaths. Then the torchlight wavered and a shadow flowed across the wall like the rippling water of a pond. Anastasia gasped, moving closer to Simon. Loren dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword.
The shadow shifted, pulling away from the wall to form itself into the shape of a hooded man. His eyes were black as midnight. Reaper’s gaze rested momentarily on Brandon, before turning to Simon. “It is not often one sees an archangel on the lesser plane.”
“It is not often the future of the realms is threatened.” Simon pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to Reaper. “Fate told me to give this to you. She said you could take us to Oracle.”
Reaper took the ring, turning it over and over in his gloved hand. “So, the time has come.”
“You know of the Cataclysm?” Selene asked.
“I do.” Reaper’s fingers curled around the ring. “I was there when Oracle spoke her prophesy. And I was among those who pledged their faith to Shirelyn before she was exiled.” He looked at Anastasia. “So, you are the key.”
“So I’ve been told,” she replied, her voice shaking.
“Have you also been told only your death can stop the Cataclysm?”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Simon said, it was obvious he was trying to control his voice, but he couldn’t manage to suppress all the anger from his tone. “Fate said Oracle may know of another way. Will you take us to her?”
Reaper’s gaze lingered on Anastasia until she blushed and looked away. “I will take you. But we must journey through the Land Of Midnight to reach the place where she dwells and it will be no easy journey.”
“I grew up in the aether,” Simon said. “I do not fear a hard journey.”
“Nor do I,” Selene said. “And between two higher powers and an archangel, I should think we would be well equipped to handle any situation which arises.”
“Perhaps.” Reaper turned and lifted his hand. The air split down the middle with a sound of tearing paper. Beyond the opening, a dark forest loomed. “Once we enter the Land of Midnight when can only move forward. This rift is the entrance, the exit lies with Oracle. We cannot return to the lesser plane until we have reached her.”
“Fine,” Simon said. “Because I have no intention of leaving until she tells me what I want to hear.” He clasped Anastasia’s hand. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, though anxiety was written clearly across her face. “As long as I have you and Loren at my side, I know I have nothing to fear.” Together, they passed through the rift. Loren and Selene followed.
Reaper turned his attention to Nephima. “Where we go, no one can help us. The Land of Midnight is dark in the eyes of any who might seek to watch over you.”
Nephima lay a hand on her chest over the place where her talisman rested beneath her shirt. “I was brought to this place for a reason and I will not let fear turn me back now. Much of my life was lived without benefit of this talisman, I survived without it then, I can survive without it now.” She passed Reaper and entered the forest.
Brandon held up his hand. “Don’t say a word. I wouldn’t miss this adventure for anything.”
“It may be your last.”
“Maybe so,” Brandon looked through the rift at Nephima, a small, dimly outlined figure beneath the gloomy trees. “But if it is, then I least I’ll go out in good company.” He joined the elf woman. Reaper followed. And the rift sealed itself shut.
**********************************************************
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kyra Dune was born in Oklahoma, but spent most of her life travelling with her family. She is the author of more than two dozen fantasy novels, including: Shadow of the Dragon, Elfblood, and Firebrand. As a child, her favorite stories were those that told of ordinary children being whisked away to magical lands. She has yet to find her own secret wardrobe or rabbit hole, but she hasn’t given up the search. You never know what might be waiting over the next rainbow.
***********************************************************
Kyra Dune, Higher Power (Prophecy Of The Cataclysm Book One)
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The hall began a gently sloping descent until it opened out into a wide cavern below the earth.
“I will leave you now,” the Brother said.
“Be sure to take good care of our horses,” Brandon said. “Especially the old mare. She’s very dear to me and I fully intend on coming back for her.”
“Of course.” The Brother inclined his head, then retreated into the hall.
“What was that all about?” Selene asked, eyeing him narrowly.
“What was what all about?” Brandon asked with an air of wide eyed innocence.
“The Brother treated you with respect,” Simon said. “Even deference. Why? What did he read in your tattoo to make him act that way?”
Brandon studied his nails. “I’d rather not say if it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s not all the same to me.” Simon took a menacing step forward and it was all Brandon could do not to laugh.
“A person is entitled to their secrets,” Nephima said, coming to stand beside Brandon. “You have no right to try and pry them from him.”
“Since I’m about to embark on a desperate and dangerous journey with the two of you, I think maybe I do have a right to pry into his secrets,” Simon said. “And yours, as well. I appreciate what you both did at the manor, standing with me to face the nightmare. But I don’t understand it. As I don’t understand why a demon should have found either of you to be a threatening foe. Excuse me for saying so, but neither one of you would be considered particular intimidating by a human being, let alone a creature of the aether.”
Brandon’s fingers twitched. A politely worded insult was still an insult and he did not appreciate being disparaged for his relatively small stature. Worse still, the man had insulted Nephima and Brandon did not take kindly to that at all.
“Simon, please.” Anastasia lay a hand on his arm. “These people saved my life. I think we can trust them. Besides, we may need all the help we can get to stop the Cataclysm.”
Simon glared at Brandon and Nephima a moment longer before turning away. “You’re right,” he brushed the back of Anastasia’s hand with his fingers, “as always.” He smiled at her. “Ever the level headed one.”
She smiled back. “Someone has to be.”
Off to the side, Selene scowled at them, though neither seemed to notice. And Loren, ever steadfast and silent, glowered at her behind her back. Brandon grinned. Oh yes, this was certainly going to be an interesting adventure.
Anastasia turned to Brandon. “How do we summon Reaper?”
“It’s simple, really.” Brandon moved into the center of the room and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Reaper, we seek audience with you.”
For a long moment, the only sound in the cavern was of their own breaths. Then the torchlight wavered and a shadow flowed across the wall like the rippling water of a pond. Anastasia gasped, moving closer to Simon. Loren dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword.
The shadow shifted, pulling away from the wall to form itself into the shape of a hooded man. His eyes were black as midnight. Reaper’s gaze rested momentarily on Brandon, before turning to Simon. “It is not often one sees an archangel on the lesser plane.”
“It is not often the future of the realms is threatened.” Simon pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to Reaper. “Fate told me to give this to you. She said you could take us to Oracle.”
Reaper took the ring, turning it over and over in his gloved hand. “So, the time has come.”
“You know of the Cataclysm?” Selene asked.
“I do.” Reaper’s fingers curled around the ring. “I was there when Oracle spoke her prophesy. And I was among those who pledged their faith to Shirelyn before she was exiled.” He looked at Anastasia. “So, you are the key.”
“So I’ve been told,” she replied, her voice shaking.
“Have you also been told only your death can stop the Cataclysm?”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Simon said, it was obvious he was trying to control his voice, but he couldn’t manage to suppress all the anger from his tone. “Fate said Oracle may know of another way. Will you take us to her?”
Reaper’s gaze lingered on Anastasia until she blushed and looked away. “I will take you. But we must journey through the Land Of Midnight to reach the place where she dwells and it will be no easy journey.”
“I grew up in the aether,” Simon said. “I do not fear a hard journey.”
“Nor do I,” Selene said. “And between two higher powers and an archangel, I should think we would be well equipped to handle any situation which arises.”
“Perhaps.” Reaper turned and lifted his hand. The air split down the middle with a sound of tearing paper. Beyond the opening, a dark forest loomed. “Once we enter the Land of Midnight when can only move forward. This rift is the entrance, the exit lies with Oracle. We cannot return to the lesser plane until we have reached her.”
“Fine,” Simon said. “Because I have no intention of leaving until she tells me what I want to hear.” He clasped Anastasia’s hand. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, though anxiety was written clearly across her face. “As long as I have you and Loren at my side, I know I have nothing to fear.” Together, they passed through the rift. Loren and Selene followed.
Reaper turned his attention to Nephima. “Where we go, no one can help us. The Land of Midnight is dark in the eyes of any who might seek to watch over you.”
Nephima lay a hand on her chest over the place where her talisman rested beneath her shirt. “I was brought to this place for a reason and I will not let fear turn me back now. Much of my life was lived without benefit of this talisman, I survived without it then, I can survive without it now.” She passed Reaper and entered the forest.
Brandon held up his hand. “Don’t say a word. I wouldn’t miss this adventure for anything.”
“It may be your last.”
“Maybe so,” Brandon looked through the rift at Nephima, a small, dimly outlined figure beneath the gloomy trees. “But if it is, then I least I’ll go out in good company.” He joined the elf woman. Reaper followed. And the rift sealed itself shut.
**********************************************************
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kyra Dune was born in Oklahoma, but spent most of her life travelling with her family. She is the author of more than two dozen fantasy novels, including: Shadow of the Dragon, Elfblood, and Firebrand. As a child, her favorite stories were those that told of ordinary children being whisked away to magical lands. She has yet to find her own secret wardrobe or rabbit hole, but she hasn’t given up the search. You never know what might be waiting over the next rainbow.
***********************************************************
Kyra Dune, Higher Power (Prophecy Of The Cataclysm Book One)
