chapter XIV
Cape Point, South Africa, present day
DREIOS DECIDED TO MAKE landfall in an isolated spot. Cape Point provided that in spades.
An isthmus that projected from the continent, it was the south-westernmost point of Africa, and it divided the Atlantic ocean from the Indian ocean. The land raced upward from sea level like a scalded cat, its steep slopes creating precipitous and sheer drops from dizzying heights to the crashing surf below.
Kreios swooped in along the tops of the waves as he approached, feeling the salt spray in his face as he went. Considerably far below the Cape Point Lighthouse, he alighted gently on the cluster of rocks that El had heaped up here as a boundary to the deep.
“This far and no further,” he said to himself.
He scrambled quickly up the rocks toward safer altitudes, reflecting on the sheer boldness he had employed to rescue Airel’s body from the water, what seemed like only yesterday. Too late. Still, he wondered. Why had I not drowned then? I should have been utterly swamped and useless. He wasn’t sure why, at this point, he had even attempted it. He had known it was suicide. Perhaps that was why. And yet El in His infinite wisdom had tweaked the situation, as He so often did. But why?
Kreios climbed upward away from the dangerous crashing waves to safety. He could remember: as he had rescued Airel’s already dead body, the way he had actually gained speed underwater. It was impossible.
“With El,” he said, finally gaining a rude little path on which he could walk from there on, “all things are possible.”
“And impossible that an angel should be saying so,” he added as an epilogue. Ah, if she could hear me now. Which she? Any of them. All of them.
Rage once again took him by the heart, stabbing its poisoned blade deep into the center of his will, radiating out from there manipulative currents that told him where to go, what to do.
A noise in the hardy shrubs off to his left set him on edge, and he drew his sword.
Just in time, too, because a baboon leapt out at him for crowding its turf too closely. Kreios reacted swiftly with his blade, hacking the unfortunate beast clean in two. It was a pity. He was hungry, but baboon was not a sweet meat. Terrible for food, carnivores. These are the work of the devil anyhow. Brute savage things.
He left the useless bits of carcass where they lay and didn’t bother cleaning his blade, resheathing it in the scabbard on his back, under his hoodie. The next member of the Brotherhood he encountered would commingle its blood with that of the baboon. It would be two of a kind, then. Fitting. Kreios continued on up the path.
Ascension Island, present day
“Where do we start?” I asked, bewildered.
“Witnesses,” Michael said.
“Wait,” Ellie said. “I need a moment.” She closed her eyes and sat down on the tarmac. Several minutes elapsed.
I nudged Michael. “Dude. What is she doing?”
He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Communing with her ancestors?”
“Shut up, you two. I’m trying to feel which way it went. I’m trying to do something here.”
“Feel…which way…it…went?” I asked.
Ellie did not look up at me as she rebuked me. “Listen, mate. You have your gifts, I have mine. Don’t interrupt me again; you’re wasting time.”
Humbled, I leaned into Michael’s chest and said softly, “Uh-oh. I’ve gone from ‘girlie’ to ‘mate.’ Now I’m lumped in with you.” I grimaced at him.
“You’re totally screwed,” he whispered.
More agonizingly silent and motionless moments went by. It killed me. Never mind that my friend Kim wasn’t even herself anymore. Never mind that whatever part of her I had loved for so many years was now probably lost forever in the smashing of her mind. She was shattered now, but I still felt crazed about finding her. Even if it was only her body, even if she was just an unholy habitation for some overly ambitious demon. Even if it meant mortal single combat between us, I was desperate to find my Kimmie.
Ellie broke the silence. “East,” she said, her eyes still closed. “It’s east.”
“I know why you’re calling her it, but I don’t like it.”
“I’m not calling her it. I’m calling the Bloodstone it. There’s still a difference.”
My heart was actually hurt more by the prospect that Kim was somehow still there, still suffering under all the garbage being poured out on her. “We’ve gotta find her.”
“Working on it,” Ellie said, sitting still. Her tone of voice was as if she was sitting at some control panel, working dials and switches as she gazed deeply at some readout or something.
I was dying to ask her what she was doing and how she was doing it. But my love for Kim, whatever remained of her, surpassed my curiosity.
“Okay, we’re good,” Ellie said finally, opening her eyes. She sprang up from the pavement and grabbed my hand, pulling me along. “Walk and talk, girlie. You too, commando Joe. We need all hands on deck now.”
“What’s going on?” I hazarded a question as we ran toward the hangars.
“Kreios was here,” Ellie said.
“What?! When?”
“Day or two at most.”
I wanted to skip for joy. We were getting close. I wondered why I couldn’t feel him, couldn’t reach him in my mind. It annoyed me that Ellie could and I couldn’t, but should have been able to.
Ellie continued to drag me along; she was faster than she looked. Michael was falling behind, though he was sprinting and trying his best to keep up with us. “Hey,” I said, “wait for Michael. Hey!” The pace wasn’t slowing. “Hey, Ellie, where are we going?”
“I’m looking for a tool!” she shouted at me, exasperated.
We ducked in and out of open doors, around corners, looking for this tool, whatever it was, in every shed and hangar in the area. Occasionally the odd mechanic or private pilot would look up at us as we sprinted from one place to another, popping our heads into and out of doorways.
Finally, around the back of one of the hangars, there was a small shed rotting away in a state of rusty dilapidation, its corrugated metal sides and roof evoking something out of a role-playing video game. Ellie, still grasping my hand, gave a final burst of speed for the structure and kicked the door down. “There!” she shouted in triumph.
I didn’t get it at first. I was looking for some kind of hand tool, falling for, as Ellie had put it earlier, basically whatever my mind expected to find. I didn’t understand fully until Michael finally caught us up, panting furiously.
He placed one hand against the doorframe and looked into the darkness within the shed. “Whoa,” he said hoarsely, “A Bowler Wildcat!”