Ebony Wings

32

~Ali~

The clobbering of flesh pulping flesh, of daggers clashing with daggers sends ice crystals slushing through my veins. Jaz's breath quickens to a pace I begin to suspect hyperventilation. 

"Shh, shh," I coo, resting one hand on her shoulder and pressing a finger to my lips with the other. "Jaz, calm down," I croon. The hand softly touching her shoulder bounces up and down with each of her successive breaths. "It's going to be okay. We have two angels kicking demon butt out there, and if that isn't enough, there is a glamour around the church that will buy us some time while we figure out what to do." I look around the darkness, my vision now accustomed to the lowlight, hoping for something of use. Supportive beams sprout periodically from the ground, miscellaneous ancient debris littering the floor - a knocked over column here, a broken pew there, a dented goblet thrown in the corner. But nothing particularly helpful.

She shivers with The Book held to her chest, not realising the cloths are steadily slipping. A nervous sweat breaks out across my skin and I reach out.

"Here, pass me the book." I nudge her arm, pulling The Book from her fearful vice. I shudder from the magnetic sensation buzzing up my arms but push the feeling to the back of my mind and set the cloth bound book by my feet. "I want you to sit down, okay?" She nods her head absentmindedly as I take her elbow, guiding her to one of the wooden pillars. She leans against it and slides to the floor without complaint, as if her legs couldn't take the weight any longer. Her entire thorax balloons and deflates in rapid succession as she braces her hands on the tops of her knees. The clamouring outside rages on. I lower myself to the floor beside her.

"Now, let's just breathe. In..." I mimic my words with movements, drawing my hand from my belly to my lungs, hoping that I look like I know what I am doing. "And out." My fingers graze their path back to my sinking stomach. "In... And out." I keep regulating her breathing until the veil of panic lifts from her eyes. After a few minutes Jaz finally calms down. 

Jaz looks around the room carefully, gulping through her dry throat. "I think I'm good now. I just need a second. My head feels a little on the light side."

"Take your time. I'll watch The Book." She smiles gratefully and leans her head back against the pillar, eyes shut.

I scoop The Book up from the dusty floor, pacing away to give her some breathing space. The pages hum in my hand and I almost break into a second, deeper sweat trying to ignore its compelling nature. Just as I feel my resolve slipping, toying with the flimsy material, the air turns heavy, pungent with a sulfuric, acrid stench. The impulse to gag is strong any thoughts other than the immediate danger above us are thwarted. 

"Ali... What's happening?" Jaz whispers beseechingly. "It is freezing down here." I look down to my pebbled arms, the fine hairs raised like a dog's hackles. "Wh-"

"Shh!" I hiss quietly, waving an arm in her direction. My laboured breaths leave my nose in thin, white coils.

A crackling sound charges the air like an exploding electrical wire. The inhuman cry of a Fallen outcompetes the deafening rattle.  

"They're here." 

"The wall?" Jaz mouths, pulling herself up the pillar to a stand. I nod and motion for her to take care walking over the broken glass as she approaches me.

Claws rake across the church's exterior walls, the grinding sound filtrating to our ears, reminding us that if we can hear them, they can hear us. Jaz slows her advance, gently placing each footstep.

"How do we even know they're in here?" One of their voices grunts. "We could get scorched for nothing!" 

Jaz is almost by my side now, just a few steps away as I ready The Book to pass it over. Once freed from The Book, I can draw my dagger, hopefully without the pleasure of having to use it. 

Jaz takes her final step, eyes focusing on grasping The Book in such a place that it holds the rags tight. In doing so, her overlooked foot shatters a shard of glass. It tinkles like a ringing dinner bell in the quietness. I reach for my waistband, pulling the dagger free. Jaz stops and so does my heart. 

"Yep, they're hear alright." Another sniggers and their footsteps move with more determination.  

Nausea rolls in my stomach and I pray for a quick death, clutching the heavy metal blade in my hand until it turns white. Although not much use against a mob of Fallen, it leaves me with some deceptive sense of protection.

Another sound of sizzling flesh fills the church, the growls of frustration angrier than before. I imagine them testing the boundaries, toeing the threshold until their skin blisters under the protective magic of the church.

"Jump through faster!" One yells impatiently.

"Be my guest! My hand already hurts enough as it is," a fallen grunts.

Another sizzle and howl. "Don't push me! That fucking hurt, Kael!"

They sound so close. 

"Devil knows you needed the push. You would have never gotten in on your own." Kael, I assume, assails. I blanch. 

My shoulders hunch with failure, the dagger limp in my hand. Like the final images before death, I see hazy playback of my parents, the weekend markets and the old produce farmer. I remember the honey warmth of the sun and the silk of the country air. Images, sounds, feelings, tastes all mingle in my memory, a final recollection of my happiest moments.

And then his face appears, so clear in my mind I could almost convince myself he was stood before me. The strong bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, the arch of his brow, the immeasurable profoundness of his electric eyes. I am even sure I can smell his leathery, teakwood scent on my skin. Ethan, all in such focus as he is dragged to my attention, dulls the fear. Only his survival carries any meaning and everything outside of that focus subsides.   

I am more than a human coward, my mind growls, ears tuning into the indiscreet movements of the Fallen above us. I am more than a human hide to be hunted and sold. My knife is alert, raised by my ribs, ready to sever flesh. And in this moment, I feel more than just a human. A raw, animalistic drive engulfs my being and an unearthly power blazes in my stomach. My neck hums, my fingers tingle, body erupts in goosebumps and my soul explodes within me.

His footsteps echo over the floorboards as he approaches the pit, mere steps away from our heads. I wait a moment, the timing not quite right.

3.

2.

1.

I run through the darkness and leap onto the broken column under the opening. Positioning my dominant leg forwards, I lunge straight out of the pit, weapon raised as I fly towards the Fallen.

Like a hot knife through butter my dagger plunges into the Fallen's chest, sinking straight through his heart. He falls and the army howls.