Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One (12 page)

Pick them up!  Pick them up!

The demons’ words echoed in Sariel’s mind as his gaze
remained fixed on
the bones.
 
Just then, s
omething in the sand caught the light of the midday sun.  Sariel squinted at the reflection, then quickly pulled
a short, thin reed
out of the marsh by its roots.  Snapping the stalk, he used the
makeshift
pole to reach toward the sand beneath the water.

“No. No
!
” the demons screamed.  “Take it for yourself.  You don’t need a stick.  Are you afraid?  Is the
C
hild of
L
ight afraid of a shiny rock?” they mocked.

Probing in the sand, Sariel brought something golden to the surface.  It shined like nothing else around it.  He took one careful step forward and peered down into the water to see a small
figur
ine
fashioned from gold
, in the form of a predatory land animal
.

Humans don’t yet know the art of working metal
!
 
Someone
made
it
for them
.  Or
show
ed
them how to
craft
it
for themselves
. 
Wh
ich means—

Sariel’s mind raced to conclusions which contradicted what he already knew to be true. 
As his mind struggled to comprehend what he
was observing, he also noticed a braided thread that was strung through a hole in the top of the
statue
.  Pushing his reed into the sand, he
lifted
the gold
en
object by its thong and held it in the air, where it swung and rotated, catching the light of the sun.

Immediately, one of the demons rushed
forward
and tried to hold it, though its hands passed through it like mist through a forest.

“Take it
,” it said
. 
“
You can have it if you want.  The humans don’t need it anymore,” it sneered.

Interesting
.

Without touching the
figurine
,
Sariel
used the reed to fling the cursed object far out into the field, away from the lake.

Just as he suspected,
one
demon was forcefully dragged through the air
, leaving traces of putrid green swirls in its wake.  The
figurine
landed with a bounce among the tall grasses
while the
demon
involuntarily mirrored the movement,
jolt
ing and tumbling as it went.  When the
figurine
came to a stop, the demon tried to regain
its bearings,
shifting its gaze quickly around the new territory with a
n
excited
but
disoriented
look in its dark eyes.

Sariel spun around to face the others, who looked as though the pleasure of their secret was just stolen.  “Who are you working with?”

The demons shrank back in fear, but remained silent.

“Who made these?” he demanded, assuming there were more
figurines
beneath the sand.

One small voice replied, almost a whisper.  “We don’t have to tell you anything.”

Sariel locked eyes with the creature
and
scowled
.  “
Of course you don’t have to.  You always have a choice.  But I can affect your choices.  Tell me what I want to know, or I will make your already pathetic existence even more painful.”

The
demons weren’t moving anymore. 
Their sharpened claws were embedded in the sand
; their silent forms crouched as if ready to attack
.

“W
HO ARE YOU WORKING WITH
?”

Their faces slowly distorted
;
fanged mouths stretching into smiles of pleasure.

Sariel gritted his teeth.  I
t seemed that while he had been fighting
futile, but straightforward battles
in the Eternal
R
ealm, the war
had spread to the Temporal. 
The questions racing through his mind, and the creatures facing
him now
,
were
confirmation of the fear that had been growing exponentially in his heart.  This war was already far more complex than the
Amatru
was willing to admit.

E
nding the existence of these horrid beings would have been as simple as
shifting into their location along the
spectrum
and crushing their fragile bodies with his bare hands. 
But these demons represented something significant, even if he didn’t yet know what it was. 
His d
ays of act
ing before thinking were over.

Backing away
, Sariel
s
hifted
hi
s consciousness fully into the T
emporal and watched the sickly bodies fade, replaced by the calming vision of the rippled water on the lake surface.

*   *   *   *

Enoch wasn’t sure what the elder had
said to the hunters.  B
ut whatever it was, it made a
big
difference in how
they treated him. 
After being hunted like an animal, tied, beaten, and
stripped of his clothing,
they now
bathed
him, dressed his wounds, and fed him.  After several confusing days of this
behavior
, they painted his skin in white ash
like the elder
, with large swatches of red river clay around his neck and abdomen.  Then, he and another group of men set out from the village and marched
east
toward the mountain
. 
T
his time, his wrists weren’t bound, and he wasn’t poked and prodded like an animal.  Instead, they showed him honor as if he were a special guest.

For more than a week, Enoch traveled with three men in front of him and three behind. 
They no longer wore the head coverings of their hunting dress, but a simple draping of reptile hide over their shoulders, which fell across their chests and backs. 
Amidst
dense thickets and tall trees, they pushed through the rolling landscape, always climbing in elevation
toward
Gadol Har
-
Marah
.  On the eighth day, the land jutted upward at a sharp angle, signaling that they had reached the base of the mountain.  Then, they began to climb, single-file, up a winding path worn into the packed soil.  Sometimes it was necessary to climb on hands and feet over boulders and up large cracks in the side of
the
cliff
s
.
  By the time the path leveled out, the sun was already beginning its descent and Enoch was exhausted.

The men simply smiled, patted him on the back, and continued forward into the trees.  Passage was easier now that the land was level.  And when the
forest
overhead parted enough to see the sky, Enoch could make out
a thin line of white water meandering down
the sheer face of the
mountain.  From somewhere, the faint sound of rushing water could be heard.

“Where are we going?” he asked again.

“Hetha thud
-
eyuk.  Hetha thud
-
eyuk
,
” they repeated for the hundredth time, waving him forward.

Minutes later, the forest began to clear as they approached a small lake that butted up against a sheer rock face on the east side.  Against the dark, gray stone was a
white swath of water, cascading down from the heights above and falling into the lake.  Though little could be heard above the rushing water, Enoch knew that
all
else
was silent.
  This place was special
; h
e could feel it.

“Hetha thud
-
eyuk
. 
Nuhana
heya dakribun honekha.
”

Enoch nodded his head and smiled
, understanding nothing except that they wanted to keep moving
.  Then something caught his attention and he abruptly stopped walking.  A short distance ahead, the southern shoreline of the lake
sloped gently toward the water except for a large, flat area of rock which stood several feet above the waterline.  At the center of this area, a thick
,
wooden pole rose from the ground, the diameter of a man’s body.  Whether
it was
a tree without limbs growing from the stone, or a pole planted by human hands, the ropes hanging from it revealed its purpose
.  T
he blood-stained rock
beneath it
and the shallow trench leading toward the water made his body go weak in the knees.

“Hetha thud
-
eyuk,” they said, looking back at him.

Enoch couldn’t believe his eyes, or prevent his head from swaying side to side.  “No,” he whispered.

“
Nuhana
heya dakribun honekha,” one man said with a
furrowed brow.

Without warning,
Enoch was pushed from behind.

“NO!” he screamed
, as
he
slipped on the loose soil and fell.

At once, several hands were on him, restraining his flailing arms, lifting him from the ground.
  They were incredibly strong
,
and Enoch could
do
nothing as they carried him to the pole and tied his wrists with the rope.

Once Enoch was fastened in place, the men backed away,
frowning as if
confused by
Enoch’s reaction
.

Enoch hung from his wrists
.  H
is toes barely touch
ed
the ground,
not enough to
support
the weight of
his body.  Everywhere he looked, he saw the dark brown stains of blood.  On the pole.  In the crevices of the rock beneath him.  On the rope.  Old blood, shed over the course of years.  He knew now that he was to be a sacrifice to whatever spirit they hoped to appease.  Out of instinct, perhaps out of spite, Enoch immediately
closed his eyes
.

Holy One of
H
eaven.  Do not forsake
Y
our servant
, he pleaded. 
You have always been with me, even when I was a child.  You spoke to me and I listened.  I have come into this strange land, among these strange people, at
Y
our request.  I wish only to be obedient to
Y
ou.  If it is
Y
our will that I die in this way, then so be it.  But how could
Y
ou be honored with
actions
such
as theirs?

Enoch opened his eyes, expecting to see a weapon of some kind.  Instead, the men just backed away toward the trees, their faces
now without
expression.

Certainly, they do not worship
Y
ou, but some other
thing?
  Certainly,
Y
ou are not pleased with their actions?
  Their wickedness
is proof of their ignorance.
 
Does this not bring You to anger?
  Save me.  Do not let me die at the hands of these
lost
people.  They practice wickedness because they do not know
Y
ou
.  Do not let them slay me, for they will have learned nothing but to continue in their wickedness
.

A sharp screech cut through the air.  Reverberating off the water and stone, it brought an end to Enoch’s prayer and clouded his mind with fear.  Like the calls of the hunting party when
they took him
captive, and the shrill cries of the women when he entered their village, this
noise conveyed meaning.  Something terrible was about to happen.
But this sound was stronger
,
purer
,
clearer
.  And now he realized that the calls of the Kahyin people were only pale imitations of
this sound
.  In his mind, he saw the hides on their backs, the spines protruding from beneath the skin.  He could see the length of the teeth in the necklaces that the women wore around their necks.  He could see the fanged skulls
that
the hunting party wore on their heads.