Rise of the Seers

Book 1

Daniel Whyte IV

Copyright 2015. Torch Legacy Publications. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except for brief quotations included in a review of the book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

"When the Bible used that very expression about fighting with principalities and powers and depraved hypersomatic beings at great heights (our translation is very misleading at that point, by the way) it meant that quite ordinary people were to do the fighting."Eldwin Ransom
Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis

Merlin's ProphecyWhen Demons walk uncloaked among men
When Heaven's words are hard to perceive
When the Dark Throne begins a new age of Sin
Many years after the Virgin conceived
As Guardians ready for war across all lands
When the darkness of Hell wrests light from man
When Seraphim despair because no one will stand
The Seers will rise to guide us again.

Stonehenge (c. 550 AD)

Hsss. Hsss. Ka-hsss. Khaaa.A mass of Tempters swirled above the stone formation. Hissing angrily, they jostled frantically for position to see the proceedings below.A wizened old demon stood in front of the headstone. The crooked staff in his hand matched his bent form. The silver moon that hung low on the horizon cast long shadows to the east. The low rumble of thunder warned of a storm rolling down from the Scottish highlands.Raising his staff, the wizened demon silenced the Tempters and spoke. "Dark ones, comrades, Lords of Chaos, Dukes of Sin, loyal servants of his Infernal Majesty: We are gathered here tonight, for our lord's will is complete." At these words, there was a murmur of approval from those gathered. The Dark Angels stood stoically, their muscular arms folded across their broad chests; heavy iron swords hung from their sides. Their massive, black, feathered wings were folded neatly at their backs. Gathered alongside them were the demons the foot soldiers of the Dark Throne organized by rank. On the outskirts of the gathering, the Druids stood, their eyes gleaming red as they watched, for Stonehenge was their sacred ground."Bring him. Bring him. Bring him." The low chant began as the Druids beat out a rhythm on their huge skin drums. "Bring him!" The Tempters' frenzied hissing increased until the master of ceremonies stretched out his crooked staff and commanded silence.Ka-hsss!"Bring him," he ordered.A rank of demons split, and two of them marched forward, dragging between them a man in chains who was dressed in a tattered blue robe. They pulled him up to the headstone and thrust him to his knees.The old demon handed his staff to a young imp, and drew a knife made entirely of ivory from his belt. A wicked grin crossed his lips.Lucifer will be pleased,he thought. He looked down at the kneeling human as the knife's blade cast a pale glow over the man's face a face lined with years of honest labor and worry for others. And now, he was ready to pay the ultimate price.The demon spoke. "For five hundred years, the revenants, these ones born again from the grave " (He directed a kick at the kneeling man.) " have thwarted the plans of the Dark Throne. But tonight, we have prevailed. We have searched every corner of the earth and stamped out every Seer and their accursed descendants. None has escaped our hands. And tonight, O Lucifer, we bring the last one under the judgment of your terrible wrath."A powerful thunderclap shook the massive stones, and the horde gathered at Stonehenge pressed in closer thirsty for victory, thirsty for blood.The crooked demon raised the knife.Murmuring a prayer, the old man lifted his eyes to the stormy heavens, baring his neck to the blade.The knife gleamed in the moonlight as the blade fell, swift and sure.The man's guttural cry was drowned out by the rush of blood, the cheers of the demons, and the hissing of the Tempters._______

A tall man, whose strength and gait belied his years, strode purposefully to the water's edge. As the water lapped the toes of his heavy boots, his eyes scanned the horizon. He turned and scanned the tree line of the forest from which he had just come.It was pitch dark. But to the old man's gifted eyes, that was no hindrance. He could see shadows against shadows. All things were illuminated to him. And, thankfully, this night, there was no sign of demons or Dark Angels nearby. He cocked his head and listened for the familiar hiss.And no Tempters.Still unsatisfied though, the old man let down the hood of his heavy cloak and allowed the smells of the night to wash over his face.Good. No hint of their foul scent either.That only meant they were many miles away at Stonehenge, perhaps, by now, already celebrating the death of the last Seer.The old man shook his head sadly. He sighed and trudged towards a rocky outcropping on the beach. The waters of St. George's Channel lapped noisily against the shore. Raising his staff, the man struck the face of a large rock. The boulder seemed to crumble to dust revealing an opening. Two sets of eyes peered out of the previously hidden cavity.A middle-aged man dressed in commoner's clothes crawled out on his hands and knees. He turned and helped his wife out of the secret hiding place before regarding the man who had unlocked their prison."This is farewell, then, father?" he asked."Yes, this is farewell," the old one replied. His gaze drifted from the man's face to the woman. Worry was etched across her brow as she stood close to her husband cradling an infant in her arms. The infant stirred as the wind whipped up waves and drove them against the shore, spraying the baby's face."Do not fear, daughter," the old man said to the woman. "The will of the Eternal One will be accomplished. And though the darkness is great, the light will be all the more gloriouswhen it comes." The baby whimpered, and the old man placed a finger on the infant's lips. "Sleep, child," he said softly. "Do not let the darkness trouble your innocent soul. You must not cry now, for you have a long journey ahead of you. Sleep, child.""Where will you send us?" asked the man as the baby settled into a peaceful rest."Across the great ocean to a land that no man in Logris has yet seen. And very few outside of Logris have dared venture that far. I, myself, have seen it vaguely, in a dream or a dream of a dream, as it were. But the Eternal One has told me to send you there. And the Knights of the Black Lion nor any of Morgana's allies will pursue you at least for a long time. You will be safe.""What will we find there?" asked the woman urgently."Are there people? Is it barren?" her husband prodded."What I know is very vague. I have not been given such depth of vision," said the old man."But you have the Farsight, father," the woman pleaded."But I can only see so far. Even then, it is only revealed to me things happening at the instant. I am not able to tell you what will meet you when you arrive." The old man turned and stepped toward the water. "But I will lift up your names daily in my petitions to the Eternal One. Now, we must make haste. That foul army is finished with their ceremony."Raising his staff over the water, the old man murmured a command in an ancient tongue. The waters before him split, and a ship with three masts rose to the surface of the waves. Its sails quickly filled with the wind. "This is how you will make your voyage.""Rather large for three people," commented the man who had crawled back into the hidden space and came out with two sacks all that belonged to him and his wife."And also rather sturdy. Nothing like it has been built in Britain. An angel revealed the design to me in a dream. It is well-stocked with provisions. I have placed a special blessing on the fruit stocks to help them stay fresh."A gang plank, seemingly carried by invisible hands, fell from the deck and onto the shore. The woman, carrying the infant, boarded slowly. Her husband, carrying the sacks, followed. On deck, they turned and nodded towards the old man who remained on shore. He raised his staff toward them. "Farewell, friends. If I do not see you again in this life, then I will see you in the one to come. Always trust the will of the Eternal One."A westward wind billowed into the ship's sails, driving it away from the shore and into the dark and distant unknown.The old man watched until the ship was out of sight, and then trudged slowly back toward the woods. When he reached a rise in the hilly landscape, he paused. Using his gift of Farsight, he could see the lamps glowing in the windows of the Great Hall of Camelot many miles to the northeast. From the shadow that fell in regular intervals across the windows, he could tell the king had stayed up late again, pacing the floor, deep in thought.The old man sighed. What would become of his beloved Britain? With the Seers gone, would evil prevail? Could the Knights of the Round Table withstand the assault from Morgana who had allied with the Dark Throne?The old one shook his head.He had hope, and he would cling to it. But, in his heart of hearts, he felt that the Golden Age of Camelot was ending, and a Dark Age was beginning.

Chapter One: Outer Darkness

"Attention." The pilot's voice crackled over the plane's speakers. "We are currently experiencing turbulent flying conditions. Everyone, please remain in your seats. The flight is on schedule, and will arrive in Houston in approximately an hour and a half."The Boeing 777 banked dangerously to one side. Ethan braced himself against the armrest. He snatched up the drawing pens he had been using just before they rolled off the edge of the pull-down table on the back of the seat in front of him. He twisted the leather string around his left wrist nervously. There were three small wooden beads on the string, each etched with a strange black mark. His parents had told him that it was the only thing his birth mother gave to them when they adopted him as a baby.It was night. In the cabin, passengers awakened wanting to know what was happening. Flight attendants on unsteady feet walked up and down both aisles soothing passengers and handing out pillows, blankets, and drinks.The pilot's voice crackled again. "We would like for everyone to remain in their seats and to put on their seat belts. Thank you."With a sudden jerk, the plane righted itself. In the seat next to Ethan, his sister, Samantha, lurched forward, her long, strawberry-blond hair swinging wildly. Ethan stuck out his arm and pushed her back into her seat."Seat belt," he said.Samantha grimaced at the iPad in her hand. "If this plane doesn't stop jerking around, I'm never gonna get past the level in this game," she said. Setting the iPad in her lap, she buckled her seat belt. "Are we in a storm?""Yes," said Ethan. A noise like thunder rumbled and shook the aircraft. "Definitely, yes." An icy tingling sensation ran up his back.No, not now.The giant aircraft seemed to move up and down as though it was being dragged over huge rocks. Another rumble shook the cabin.Ethan had always wanted to see what the inside of a thunderstorm looked like, but he couldn't shake the familiar uneasy feeling. He cast furtive glances around the cabin searching for a shadow that as far as he knew only he would be able to see.Samantha watched him out of the corner of her eye. "What are you looking for?" she asked as she followed his gaze.Ethan pressed his back against the seat. "Nothing, Sam." He glanced across the aisle to where his father and mother were seated. His father, Reagan Eclaan, was still asleep, snoring softly, his eyeglasses rising and falling rhythmically on his nose. His mother, Amanda, tapped away at a spreadsheet on her laptop. She frowned as another rumble shook the aircraft.The intercom crackled as the pilot tried to deliver another message. But it never came. The lights went out, and the cabin was plunged into darkness. Ethan felt his stomach turn. The icy tingling he had felt now increased. Despite the feeling, he began to sweat.A few seconds later, the battery-operated overhead lights came on faintly, washing the passengers' faces in a dim, eerie glow. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath."Are we crashing?" asked Samantha.Ethan shook his head. "I don't think so."Not yet.His lips were stretched in a tight line. His head throbbed. His throat was tight. He had dreamed of a plane crashing the night before at the hotel in San Diego.A violent jolt shook the plane. Ethan thought he heard the sound of metal tearing. Suppressed screams escaped passengers' lips. Breathing masks dropped from overhead. Flight attendants, their eyes wide with silent fear, sought to keep passengers calm. Amid the momentary commotion, Ethan thought he heard the sound of metal tearing again. He glanced toward the plane's window."How do these things work?" Samantha asked as she fumbled with the gas mask. Her green eyes appeared even brighter in the dimness.Ethan glanced back toward the window. Something was out there. Whatever it was, it drew him. Impulsively, he lifted the window shade. An inky darkness seemed to reach beyond the glass, like a shadowy claw stretching toward his heart. Ignoring it, Ethan pressed his face to the glass, allowing his eyes to adjust to the outer darkness.Then he saw it.A demon perched on the plane's wing.A maelstrom of dark clouds swirled above the plane. Beneath, as far as Ethan could see, billowing dark clouds rolled and rolled. The rumble of thunder shook the aircraft. Another metallic screech was echoed by the passengers' screams. Ethan slammed the window shade down.Samantha tugged Ethan's arm. "What's happening out there?" She had unbuckled her seat belt and slid forward to see out the window.Ethan grabbed Samantha's arm and tried to pull her back in her seat. But his hand slipped. He hadn't realized he was sweating so much.Samantha lifted the window shade and peered. "A storm," she said. "We're flying through a storm!" She grabbed the iPad out of her seat and leaned back towards the window to take a picture. Just then, the plane pitched forward. Samantha pitched with it. A cacophony of voices rose as the passengers began yelling all at once."Samantha!" Amanda screamed her daughter's name as another metal-tearing shriek pierced the cabin, causing the plane to shudder.Ethan could feel the plane's rapid descent as he reached for Samantha who had bashed her head against the seat in front of her. The iPad dropped and clattered against the floor. Ethan spun Samantha back into her seat and buckled her seat belt. "You okay?"Samantha nodded and reached for the iPad. "Battery's dead," she mumbled.Ethan peered out the window again.Another demon had joined the first. Intent on their task, they ripped the aluminum from the plane's wing with their bare hands. Their curved, scaly, bat-like wings were spread half-way open apparently helping the demons keep their balance on the plane's wing. Every time a heavy claw ripped into the wing of the plane, it was accompanied by a screeching, tearing sound.Visions of death clouded Ethan's mind. Was he ready to die? He wasn't sure. Would he stop seeing the demons if he died? Or would they be waiting to seize him just beyond death's door?Suddenly, a new thought gripped him. What if the demons had come for him? What if they only wanted him dead? Crazy, he knew. But, he couldn't shake the dreadful idea that over three-hundred and fifty others would lose their lives because the demons he wished would go away had finally caught up with him.Ethan glanced over at Samantha. Her knuckles white as she gripped the armrests. She stared straight ahead as though she had fallen into a trance. Her mouth was set in a firm line.No, I can't die.Ethan desperately wanted to know why he was able to see the demons and no one else could.God, he prayed.Don't let us die. Don't let this plane crash.He peered back out the window. The demons were still tearing up the wing. Most of the metal had been stripped off and cast thirty-five thousand feet to the Texas ground below. The demons now focused their frenzied attack on the two engines. Ethan hoped that what he had heard about some four-engine planes being able to fly on only two engines was true. This plane was going to need it as the two engines on the left wing were goners. The plane rocked, buckled, and began to spiral. Ethan gripped the armrest tighter, but kept his eyes on what was happening outside.Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light. Ethan thought it was lightning. The light was so bright that it blinded him momentarily. When he recovered his sight, his heart lurched in his throat.Another being this one cloaked in brilliant light descended from the broiling dark clouds above. He was followed by another angel their glistening, white, feathered wings outstretched. They swooped silently toward the ailing aircraft.Ethan waited eagerly to see how the demons would react. They, apparently, were too focused on what they were doing to notice the angels.The first angel drew a silver sword from his back as he descended. The second angel glided under the left wing and disappeared from Ethan's sight beneath the belly of the plane.The first angel closed in on the demon tearing apart the engine further out. He brought his silver sword crashing down between the demon's shoulder blades. A plume of dark particles erupted from the demon's back. He reared, lost his balance, and plummeted into the maelstrom below.The other demon jumped back and drew his own sword as the attacking angel landed on what was left of the plane wing.Ethan felt the plane shudder as heavy blows silver upon iron fell. The demon and the angel seemed equally matched. Using their outstretched wings to help them stay balanced, the fighting was quick and sure powerful blows matched with dexterous steps. It was like a dance a dance the demon and the angel had been practicing for eons. And more than three hundred lives hung in the balance.Ethan's heart plunged as the demon knocked the angel's sword from his hands.The angel's eyes glowed with ferocity. He crouched down, his arms stretched in front of him, his wings stretched out behind him. He watched the demon who brandished his own weapon warily.Then, with a motion as fast as lightning, the angel lowered his wings and charged, catching the demon off-guard. The demon, who had folded his wings behind his back, flailed before snapping them open to steady himself. But the angel's impact forced the demon backwards. The combatants struggled and then toppled off the airplane wing. Like twin comets locked in a deadly embrace, they plummeted head first toward Earth, leaving behind a streak of light mixed with dark dust.A gentle thud preceded a buoying of the aircraft. The plane seemed to be gliding now. Ethan remembered now the other angel who hadn't engaged the demons.He settled back into his seat, grateful that the aircraft was now being carried on angel's wings.The passengers seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief."What was happening out there?" asked Samantha."Nothing," said Ethan as he re-buckled his seatbelt."You were watching something.""Just the storm," said Ethan. "We're out of it now."

Chapter Two: Sinister Visions

Ethan stood on the steps of the Gothic cathedral. His feet were bare. The steps were cold. From behind the huge, oak doors in front of him, he could hear chanting, though he couldn't make out the words of the chant. To his left and to his right, spires rose. Atop each spire perched four gargoyles facing the points of the compass. Their lips twisted into mocking grimaces.Ethan knew he had to enter. From behind the closed doors, the hideous chants in an unearthly, dissonant language continued. Ethan laid his hand on the carved wooden handle and pushed. The door swung open and the cacophony of the chant assaulted his ears. He couldn't make out the words, the rhythm, or the meaning, but the chant seemed victorious, as though something grand were about to occur.A dozen and a half rows of ornate wooden pews lined both sides of the interior. The gray stone interior rose into an elaborate vaulted ceiling, which was blocked from view by a swirling cloud of black dust which churned and boiled. The cloud seemed to expand spreading across the ceiling, and then down the sides of the sanctuary, distorting the light from the stained glass windows. Creeping across the floor, the dust cloud grew, swirling so thickly that Ethan couldn't see his bare feet. He shuffled down the aisle as the dust cloud rose to his shins.The chanting increased, and Ethan now realized it was coming from the dust cloud itself from the darkness around his feet, the darkness hiding the light, the darkness gathered above. The pandemonic cacophony made the sanctuary tremble and groan. Rumbling altos and dramatic tenors crashed over each other as the dissonant tone continued.Ethan noticed an area at the front of the room that was illuminated by a halo of light. He couldn't see where the light was coming from certainly not from outside, but the darkness had not infringed on that space. Perhaps whatever was in that space was the cause of their celebration.As he neared the front of the church, he could see a communion table bathed in the effervescent glow. Two feet above the table, a human body seemed to float.Now, Ethan hurried down the aisle despite the inky blackness that swirled about his feet. Something about the body was familiar. As he neared the tables, he could see the corpse was of a girl clothed in a simple, white dress. She hovered above the table flat on her back, making her strawberry-blonde hair hang straight down from her head. The girl's white skin practically glowed under the shaft of ethereal light.Reaching the table, Ethan looked down on the body. The pale face, though still, had yet to gain the pallor of death. But a pair of dead, green eyes looked up at him.Samantha!Ethan's heart pounded as he awakened. His hands and forehead were wet with sweat.Even though the dreams had occurred more frequently since his family had returned to Houston from their vacation in California, they had never involved people he knew. He had no idea what the dreams meant. Perhaps, this one meant Samantha was in danger perhaps already dead. He shuddered.Throwing off the covers, Ethan slipped his feet into his slippers and headed down the hall to Samantha's room. He opened the door softly, exhaling when he saw her hair spread across the pillow like the rays of the sun. Staring down watchfully from above her head was aHalo: Forward Unto Dawnposter. Beside it hung a large yellow poster with the words "San Diego Comic Con International" squared around a gray eye. A photo of his parents, Samantha, and himself in the San Diego Convention Center was taped onto the corner of the poster. His own tousled black hair tousled because he had just pulled off the Darth Vader helmet Samantha had persuaded him to wear to the convention stood out from the various shades of red hair that adorned his adoptive mother, father, and sister.Samantha's room reflected her passions video games, comic books, and superhero movies. When their father said he would let them decide where they would go for vacation that year, Samantha persuaded Ethan to say they both wanted to go to San Diego. Samantha had been dying to go to Comic-Con for years.When they returned to Houston, Samantha had spent two days redecorating her room with the items she had picked up at the convention. Now, a huge poster of Loki hung on the back side of her bedroom door. MiniatureStar Warsfigurines stood on her dresser beneath the window. A stack of soon-to-be-read Spider-Man comic books sat in one corner. And a five-foot wide inflatable replica of theStarship Enterprisehung from the ceiling.The sound of Samantha's clock interrupted Ethan's thoughts.Three in the morning. I need to get back to bed. First day of the new school year; it won't make a good impression if I'm drowsy in class.As soon as Ethan was back in his own room the dream of Samantha, or at least a girl who looked like Samantha, hovering in the air in the cathedral rushed back into his mind. As he had done many times before when he had had strange dreams that he couldn't forget, he reached underneath his bed and brought out a drawing pad and a pair of pencils. He was no artist, but something was different about the dreams he had: he was able to draw perfect depictions of his dreams on paper. It was weird because whenever he tried to draw anything else, it wouldn't come out right.But he could draw his dreams. He flipped over to a new sheet on the drawing pad and set the point of the pencil down on the paper. He half-closed his eyes and summoned the dream back into his mind. Then, in a trance-like state, his fingers began to move rapidly over the paper. It was as though something or someone had taken possession of his hand. Every line was precise, every shadow was shaded perfectly, every angle was accurate.It took him less than seven minutes to draw the whole scene the rows of pews, the vaulted ceiling, the communion table, and the girl floating above it. When he was finished, he looked at the work grimly, and then stenciled his initials, a backward E and a forward facing E, in the bottom-right corner along with the date as he always did. He set the drawing pad on the bedside table and flopped back onto his pillow.Closing his eyes, he tried to get back to sleep. But like other nights on which he dreamed, sleep wouldn't come.I must find out what's going on with these dreams.Fifteen minutes later, Ethan still lay there. Thirty minutes later forty minutes later.Might as well get up and do something useful.

Chapter Three: About Grigori

"Oooh, you made breakfast," said Sam as she entered the kitchen."You don't have to sound like it's the end of the world," Ethan teased. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured another cup for himself, making sure to leave enough for his mother, Amanda. His father had swore off coffee years ago, preferring tea instead."I'm not, but it's definitely one of the signs of the times," Sam shot back. She lifted the lid on the pot of oatmeal. "Mmm, cinnamon."Ethan was glad to see she was pleased. "Ready for school?" he asked."Not really. Summers should last forever. Anita told me we're going to start algebra this year.""Algebra's not bad," said Ethan. He poured a glass of orange juice and set it on the dining table for Sam."It sounds like some kind of disease," said Sam wrinkling her nose. "It's not going to be one of my favorite subjects.""I hope you're not bad-mouthing school before it even starts," said Amanda as she waltzed into the kitchen. The caramel colored business suit she wore and the way her auburn hair was pulled up into a bun communicated that she was definitely eager to get back to her accountant's desk in downtown Houston."You're a numbers woman, Mom, and evidently I didn't get those genes," said Sam as Amanda ran her fingers through her hair."Oh, Ethan, you didn't have to make breakfast," said Amanda."I know. I couldn't get back to sleep so I got up to do something useful.""Nightmare?" asked Sam."Just a dream," Ethan shrugged. He hadn't told anyone how the strange dreams had kept him awake for more nights than one.Amanda poured herself a cup of coffee and sweetened it with sugar and then put on the kettle for her husband's tea. "All right, we'll be right down for breakfast. You two can start," she said as she carried her cup of coffee back upstairs to the attic which doubled as her home office."What do you want on your oatmeal?" Ethan asked."Strawberries, raisins, granola, and milk," said Sam brightly."Mom's rule is three toppings only," said Ethan raising three fingers."Thatisthree toppings," Sam pretended to be shocked."That's four.""Technically, milk isn't a topping. Milk is just milk. It always goes to the bottom of the bowl anyway.""You are such a manipulator," Ethan teased as he grabbed the container of strawberries out of the refrigerator.Sam smiled, satisfied. "What are you having on yours?""Molasses and apples."Samantha stuck her finger in the jar of molasses and licked it. "That's gross.""We're having a meeting this Thursday."Ethan, Sam, and Amanda looked up at Reagan Eclaan as he entered the kitchen where they were eating breakfast. They stared blankly. No matter what he was doing, the head of the Eclaan household managed to pull off the persona of a dignified, self-absorbed, slightly-distracted professor. Dressed in a plaid brown house robe and slippers, he gripped a three-ring binder in one hand and a cup of steaming Earl Grey tea in the other."Morning, Dad," said Samantha."Honey, you're starting in the middle of your stream of thought again," said Amanda. She patted his placemat on the table. "Sit down, and start from the beginning." She got up to fix another bowl of oatmeal.Reagan set his tea cup and binder on the dining table and kissed Amanda on the cheek. "You smell like numbers. That's how I know you're not dressed this nice just for me."Sam rolled her eyes at Ethan across the table as Amanda's cheeks flushed red.Reagan sat down and took a sip of his tea. "And you two, the youngest members of the Eclaan clan, you look bright and chipper and eager to learn. The Eclaans are always eager to learn, isn't that right?"Ethan nodded. "What's this meeting on Thursday about?""Oh, that," said Reagan taking off his glasses and cleaning them on a napkin. "I've cut a deal with a new book agent possibly. He's coming on Thursday so we can talk and finalize all the details. And, after that, well The Grigori Chronicleswill soon hit bookshelves.""That's great!" said Amanda."What doesgrigorimean?" asked Sam. She said the strange word slowly, rolling it around on her tongue before letting it pass her lips.As a speculative fiction writer, Reagan made up a lot of words. He had even invented a language which he used in his most recent series of high fantasy novels. Most people would consider Mr. Eclaan odd, but Ethan thought he was brilliant in a unique way not doctor or scientist brilliant, but something else entirely. He enjoyed poring over his father's old notebooks which were filled with half-finished stories, strange names, and long expositions about worlds and people that only existed in Reagan's imagination."Does it have to do with that Russian guy Rasputin?" Ethan asked.Reagan chewed a spoonful of oatmeal slowly. "No. That's a good guess, though." He raised his spoon and stabbed it in the air. "Grigori was Rasputin's first name. He was a mystic and adviser to the royal Romanov family. The Grigori I'm writing about " He paused, set his spoon back in his bowl and leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him and dropping his voice to a hushed tone. "The Grigori I'm writing about are also known as the Watchers. You might remember that word from reading the book of Daniel in the Bible. They were heavenly beings a class of angels originally placed on Earth to watch over mankind, but some of them rebelled. They mated with human women and had children known as Nephilim half-human, half-angel beings. The rebellious Watchers, or Grigori, were imprisoned beneath the Earth. That's the gist of it."Ethan's eyes glazed as his mind spun watchers, angels, half-angels, rebellious angels, imprisoned angels.With his dreams and his ability to see demons and angels which apparently no one else had, this information was too much to process at once. He could hear the chants of the shadows in the cathedral in his dream.What if rebel angels are escaping from their underground prison? What if that is why they sounded so victorious?He felt someone shaking his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts."Earth to Ethan, earth to Ethan." Sam was staring at him."You were saying something?" Ethan asked as he glanced around the table. Amanda had that tight-lipped, half-apologetic expression on her face people get when they catch someone else doing something embarrassing like staring off into space oblivious to what's going on around them. Ethan hated how even a tinge of the supernatural seemed to set him off-kilter.Sam said, "No, um, I was just thinking that if we hurry and finish eating we can go out to the cathedral before school."

Chapter Four: Stained Glass Angels

Ethan dragged his feet as he and Sam neared the cathedral. He wondered if Sam knew something about his dream, or if she had just suggested visiting the old church to delay the inevitable moment when they would arrive for the first day of school. If he hadn't had such an unnerving dream, he wouldn't have minded the idea of stopping by the cathedral anyway. As it was, it seemed like more than a coincidence. He tucked his skateboard and drawing pad under his arm as Sam urged him to hurry."Come on. I thought you wanted to get to school on time impress the teachers on the first day and all that."The rising Texas sun, an orb of swirling pinks and oranges, peeked over the trees that lined the wide avenue, shooting bright rays that bounced off Sam's head making it seem like her hair was on fire.The sun warmed Ethan's arms and any hopes he had for a cooler day in the middle of August went away. He hitched his brown backpack, which was mostly empty, higher on his back. It was the same backpack he had used for the past two years. Sam, on the other hand, sported the new Avengers backpack she had picked up at Comic-Con.The gentle breeze turned chilly as they turned the corner onto a side street lined with thick trees and unkempt shrubbery. It was a dead-end road. The cathedral loomed up ahead of him and blocked out the rising sun. The old Gothic structure, complete with flying buttresses, would have looked out of place if it hadn't been for the thick, dark foliage that grew around it and the vines that snaked up the sides of the building clinging to the stones. Every time he turned the corner onto this quiet, mostly abandoned street, which most people only used as a turnabout, he felt as though he were stepping into another world. Even though services were no longer held there, the church still had a rector who attended to the upkeep of the grounds and the few people who came by to sit, meditate, and pray on the weekends. Occasionally, groups of tourists came by to walk through the building and pose for pictures. At one point, the city wanted to tear the building down, but the community's loud protests had prevented that.Now, standing in the shadow of the building, Ethan looked up. Twin spires rose on either side of the entrance. Atop each spire was a single gargoyle. Though grotesque, they didn't resemble the crouching monstrosities that had marred Ethan's dream. Their sad, stony faces looked straight ahead with unblinking eyes. A single horn protruded from the forehead of each."Help me," Sam grunted as she pushed against the heavy wooden doors. Ethan ascended the steps and shoved the door open. The cool, dry air of the interior brushed against their faces.As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, it seemed as though they had stepped back in time into a hallowed, revered space. The interior was dim lit only by the multi-colored light that streamed in through the sanctuary's twelve stained-glass windows which each depicted an angel. The soaring vaulted ceiling was only interrupted by a row of small, square windows high above their heads that wrapped around the sanctuary.Sam set her backpack down on the back pew with a reverberating thud that echoed around the room. She ran over to the far wall and stood beneath the first window gazing up at Gabriel descending from a cloudy sky, his mighty wings outspread as he neared the Virgin bowed in prayer. Ethan stood there and watched as Sam's face lit up in the rainbow luminescence. Sam ran from one window to the next reading the gold plates beneath the windows that described each scene.Ethan stood in the center aisle and let the feeling of quiet peace wash over him. This was the reason why he and Sam had made it a habit to come out to the cathedral ever since their parents allowed them to ride their bikes alone. Walking into the cathedral seemed to shut them off from the world. The sanctum was a place where they were content to sit quietly, barely daring to whisper, letting their thoughts run free in the presence of warrior angels.Those were the angels Ethan liked best. The ones with drawn swords, and fierce faces, and eyes like fire. Somehow, just knowing that they were there seemed to balance out the scale that was tipped towards evil.Neither Ethan nor Sam spoke. Their scruffy footsteps against the hard floor was the only sound that echoed in the sanctuary. Ethan walked slowly to the front of the church. Even though he had been apprehensive about coming out to the cathedral, he didn't want to disappoint Sam, and he was determined not to let what happened in his dream invade the present reality.As if that's actually gonna work.Shoving his hands into his pocket, Ethan gazed up at the enormous cross that hung above the choir box in front of the bronze organ pipes.As his eyes fell on the communion table in front of the podium, he felt his heart beat rise. The table looked almost exactly like the one in his dream. He approached the table slowly and stared down into the dull, polished surface. For a moment, he let his fingers hang half an inch above the table top and then he let them drop.The instant his fingers touched the table, his mind seemed to leave his body. He was back in his dream, surrounded by the hideous chanting and the swirling darkness. The sounds were louder than before as though each voice was competing to be heard above the others.Ethan opened his eyes and looked down. The girl's body was gone, and he discovered that he could see directly through the table to the ground below. Something was moving down there. A circular pinprick of darkness expanded until it was a hole a foot wide. Red-tinged smoke rose from the hole. An acrid smell assaulted Ethan's nostrils. Something green and glowing moved in the cavity.The green thing came rapidly into focus a serpent rising up out of the earth. Its lidless eyes burned the color of sulfur. It opened its mouth.Hsss. Hsss. Ka-hsss.Fangs dropped beneath the serpent's lips as it rose beneath the table.Ethan panicked. He jerked upward, pulling his hand back from the table.Instantly, the vision vanished. He was standing in a quiet cathedral with a cross high up above him and a traditional communion table etched with the words, "Do this in remembrance of Me," in front of him. The silence was only broken by Sam's laughter in the far corner of the sanctuary.Ethan stared at the table for a moment and then turned toward Sam. She was at the very last stained glass window gazing up at the depiction of her favorite angel, Raphael. The artist had decided to show him different from the other scenes. He wasn't dressed in warrior's attire like Michael or in the plain, white attire of the messenger Gabriel. Rather, his clothes were an assortment of bright and vivid colors. Instead of a sword or a scroll, he wore a thick gold belt around his waist, and attached to the belt were more than a dozen pouches of various sizes. His orange eyes sparkled with a happy light."He just winked at me," Sam laughed."It's just your imagination," Ethan said curtly reaching her side and staring up at the window."You didn't see.""Come on, we have to go. Get your backpack."Sam stared at him for a moment, and then grabbing her backpack off the back pew asked, "Your dreams really are getting to you, aren't they?""You don't know anything about it," Ethan said. The nightmares dark dreams, visions or whatever they were did seem to make him more brooding and anxious.The heavy cathedral doors closed with a thud behind them."Your papers are falling out," Sam said.Ethan knelt on the top step to reset his drawings neatly in his drawing pad. "Thanks," he muttered. "I need a new drawing pad.""Anything new in there?" Sam asked as she knelt beside him."No." Ethan didn't mind Sam looking at his drawings if he could call them his. She didn't attach any particular meaning to them. But he was careful about letting others see them.No need to let everybody know I'm such a weirdo.Ethan retucked the drawing pad under his arm and turned up the street to walk the final four blocks to where his high school and Sam's middle school sat across from each other.

Chapter Five: Things Old and New

Ethan had been taught that segregation was a thing of the past. Now, after dropping Sam off across the street at the Milton Evers Middle School, he stepped on the grounds of Perry Dante High, and found he wasn't so sure. The students hung around outside as if clinging to the last vestiges of summer. And across the front lawn, around the track, and waiting on the patio in front of the school, the students had already begun to congeal into three distinctive groups.First, there were the jocks and the cool kids. The boys from the football team and their cheerleader girlfriends. The popular kids and the perfect couples who stole kisses in the hall between classes and always bragged about the parties they attended. Ethan had never fit in with them. He had wanted to join the football team; even Coach Carter said he was pretty good when he had tried out as running back. But Ethan always imagined the nightmare that would inevitably happen: The last few seconds of a football game, with the ball soaring over his head, he would reach for it and it would graze his fingertips as his toes dragged in the corner of the end zone. Then, he would freeze. Because out of the corner of his eye he would have spotted a demon somewhere in the stands or, much worse, on the field.Ethan shook the thought out of his head. He wouldn't dwell on what could have been.He turned, weaving his way through the crush of students, and accidentally stumbled over a pair of black lace-up boots. The boots belonged to a tall, lanky, black-haired girl whose name Ethan didn't know. He only remembered "Graveyard Girl." That was what they called her, supposedly because she had been adopted by the strange mortician who had just come to work at the funeral home."Morning," Ethan offered.The girl nodded at him and turned away and walked to the fringe of the crowd, back to the place where the second group of students usually hung out away from everyone else. Those students were the unwanted, the distant, the freaks, the Goths, the kids whom nobody else seemed to understand. The kids who ate their lunch in silence underneath the stairs and didn't talk to teachers unless it was absolutely necessary. Ethan felt something for those kids. But they were so hardened on the outside, he didn't want to waste time talking to them. They were wary. They always kept their guard up.Heading around the corner of the main two-story brick building which contained the cafeteria, the gym, the indoor rec center, and dozens of classrooms, Ethan looked forward to his own clique the group of kids he felt comfortable being around. They were the quiet ones, the studious ones, the ones who excelled at their work, and got steady grades. But that wasn't the reason why Ethan liked them so much. He liked them because each person was different and some would say they were odd. They had their little quirks. But they each accepted the others as they were. When Ethan froze up at the appearance of a demon only he could see, no one bugged him about it."Ethan!" a preppy voice broke into his thoughts. The voice belonged to Pixie Delos. Ethan smiled as she waved. Her beaming face and uninhibited, bouncy spirit brought an extra measure of joy to any circumstance. Oversized, pink earphones covered her ears and held her black hair, which didn't quite reach down to her shoulder, away from her face. Her Asian features crinkled into a broad smile revealing perfect whites. Ethan noticed she was wearing the same faded, sky blue t-shirt that read "Music is life," which she had been wearing the last day Ethan had seen her, just before his family had traveled to California for vacation.Pixie waved Ethan over to the usual spot where he hung out before and after school just where a grove of trees clustered at the far corner of the main building.As he waved back, another student jostled him. His skateboard and his drawing pad which had both been tucked under his arm clattered to the ground. He immediately stooped down, rushing to gather his drawings.If anyone sees theseJust then, another pair of hands darted into his field of vision. It reached for a wad of papers."Hey, are these your drawings?" a voice asked.Ethan looked up at the girl kneeling in front of him. His grey eyes met a pair of black ones set in the most perfect face he had ever seen. The face was framed by luscious waves of long fiery red hair. The girl's lips quirked up in a smile. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Ethan had ever seen. He stared for a moment, his lips apart, before finding his voice."Uh, yeah," he said."They're really good," the girl said. She handed him a handful of papers, and Ethan stuffed them back between the covers of the drawing pad."Thanks," he mumbled.The girl reached for the last drawing and stood up as Ethan grabbed his skateboard. Ethan cringed. That was the image he had drawn that very morning.The girl appraised the image, scrutinizing every detail.Ethan placed his thumb and forefinger on the paper, tugging it gently. The last thing he needed was one of the popular kids spreading rumors about his weird artwork and the red-haired beauty in front of him definitely looked like she belonged with the popular crowd."Thisisreally good," the girl said earnestly. "Are you in Ms. Ferren's art class?"Ethan shook his head."You should come. She would be really impressed.""I'll think about it," Ethan said still holding the corner of the paper.The redhead surveyed the image again and then looked up. "Oh, I'm Ariadne," she said."Yeah, mine's Ethan. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the help." Ethan's eyes locked with Ariadne's, and he suddenly felt as though something was off about her. Nothing too noticeable more like the last strains of a song being played in the distance. His heart beat just a little bit faster.But the shadow that darted into his peripheral vision, made it beat much faster.No, not now.Ethan froze. He vaguely registered that Ariadne was saying something else. But he couldn't make it out. His mind seemed to be melting.A few yards away, a demon weaved his way between students. It's scaly wings were folded neatly behind its back. An iron sword swung at its side. Ethan could feel the evil presence, and it made his skin crawl. It was so close to innocent kids who had no idea a demon was walking in their midst.The demon seemed to be watching and thinking. A muscular hand scratched its chin. Then, the demon turned and walked out of Ethan's sight. A few moments later, Ethan could sense the dark one had left the immediate vicinity.He returned to reality."What were you staring at?" Ariadne was saying."Nothing," Ethan mumbled as he finally pulled the drawing from her grasp."You were watching something. You kind of zoned out there for a moment."Ethan's mind raced. He wasn't about to admit to this girl,Yeah, I saw a demon walking about ten feet away from you.But he didn't want to make her feel like he was snubbing her by just walking away. Shehadhelped him when she didn't have to.He looked up. Ariadne was watching him, studying him. Her eyes questioned.Think fast. Explain this.The sun finally cleared the circumference of trees around the school's property a blazing disc in all of its fierce orange glory."Really, it was nothing," Ethan stuttered. "Just, your hair when the sun catches it. It's nice."A small smile forced its way into Ariadne's expression.Ethan held up the drawing. "Thanks, again," he said as he turned around. He found Pixie standing right behind him, her happy eyes twinkling with amusement. She looped her arm into his and walked away with him.Ethan knew what was coming next. "What?" he said."First day of the new school year and it looks like someone already has the hots for you," said Pixie."Negative," said Ethan. "I dropped my drawing pad and she helped pick up the papers.""And the long staring session afterwards?""Nothing. I got distracted.""Of course you did," Pixie said, her tone low and conspiratorial, but when Ethan looked down at her he had to smile. Because she worked as the editor of the student-run school newspaper, Pixie was always angling for information. She had the inside scoop on everything that went on at Dante High from sports scores and academic competitions to who was falling in love with who."Really, it was nothing," Ethan said."We'll see" Pixie said.Pulling away from her grasp, Ethan turned to greet Zach and Akeela. Zach was sitting cross-legged on the grass staring at half-a-dozen clear marbles."Morning," Ethan said, nudging Zach.Zach looked up. His face was unusually pale, and his black hair looked like it hadn't been combed in weeks. He only nodded, and Ethan knew that that was all he was going to get out of the usually silent Zach. He never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he used as few words as possible. Pixie looked down at him with pity.Akeela, as expected, had a book open on her lap. "Good to see you guys," she said pushing her thin-framed, rectangle glasses up on her nose.Just then, the bell rang, and the crowd of students pressed towards the entrance.

Chapter Six: Up from the Abyss

Deep in a cave behind the Nebiler waterfall, six figures slumbered as silent as statues. Cloaked in robes the color of parchment, they sat in a circle around a hole in the ground. But it was no ordinary hole: it was a portal to the Abyss the underworld domain of the Dark Throne. For centuries, these six had sat in their semi-sleep state, only awakening at the call of their master. The cave they sat in was small and craggy. And the constant flow of water at the mouth of the cave made it muggy on days when the weather was hot. But the six who slept noticed none of this. They were still-spirits unaffected by the passing of time or the rushing of wind or the crashing of waves. That was a gift given to them by their master.Ka-hsss!A Tempter burst into the cave through the waterfall scattering droplets on the stone floor. Fluttering furiously above the heads of the robed figures, it looked like a giant moth with six wings. It spoke directly into the minds of the sleeping ones, bringing them news of the outside world. But the still-spirits neither moved nor uttered a sound, and the Tempter left when it had delivered its messages.That is how things went on in the cave behind the waterfall. Always still except for the incessant falling of water. Always silent except for the Tempters who visited now and then. That is how things went on until the day when the smell of sulfur rose from the hole in the ground and into the nostrils of those six who sat and slumbered.Gradually, the still-spirits began to awaken. The portal was opening. Their master had returned from his sojourn in the Abyss.The smell of sulfur intensified and a white smoke billowed up from the hole in the ground. The still-spirits opened their eyes and watched intently.A man rose up from the earth immaculately dressed in a brown tailored suit with gold pinstripes. His cat-like eyes glimmered gold, and he wore a ring on nearly every finger. As he stepped onto the stone floor of the cave, he took a deep breath through his nose like a man savoring the smells of a place he had been away from for a long time. He stepped away from the hole, and the portal snapped shut the smoke and the smell of sulfur vanishing as though it had never been.The six still-spirits bowed their heads in respect. "Hail, Master," they said in unison. Each mouth moved, but they spoke with one voice. "Has the time come?"The man, the one they called "Master," said, "Yes, the time is nigh. Bring me thechosaigems."One of the robed figures got up from the circle and rushed to a crevice in the wall withdrawing an oblong wooden box. He brought it back to his master.The master took the box and rubbed his hand over its surface, caressing the wood which was carved with strange images and the words of an ancient tongue. Prominently featured on the lid was a woman a queen sitting on her throne, stars arrayed above her head. The master lifted the box to his lips and whispered, "Reclude." Open. The lid lifted, and the master smiled as he peered at the artifacts draped in a piece of silk inside the holy and unholy side by side.He lifted the ivory blade with the black symbols carved on its shaft and held it up to the light that filtered in from the other side of the waterfall. He smiled as the blade sang to him, as bloodthirsty as ever. Satisfied, he tucked it into his belt. Then he reached for thechosaigems two precious stones as big as walnuts one purple, one emerald. The master's fingers hovered over the gems for a moment, his cat eyes narrowing as he peered at them uncertainly. Finally, he grasped the emerald one, but it burned his fingers and he dropped it back against the silk cloth.Cursing mentally, he reached into his pocket and brought out a leather glove and a satin pouch. After he wriggled his right hand into the glove while balancing the box in his left, he seized the emerald gem and dropped it into the pouch. Then he did the same with the purple one and stuffed the satin pouch back into his pocket.He shut the wooden box and kissed the lid. "Soon, my queen," he whispered to the enthroned lady carved on its face."Soon," said one of the still-spirits, echoing his master. This one stood up from the circle, staring at the place in the ground where the portal had opened. "If it is so soon, where are the rest of them? We were expecting you would return with an army."The master smiled. "I have determined wiser ways to implement our plans. Soon, the world will be served on a platter, and you will be free to devour as much of it as you wish.""Then tell us our role in the taking of this world," said the still-spirit. "From what the Tempters have told us, a storm is already brewing. No doubt you have heard that some say a seer is upon the Earth.""I haven't," said the master. "But if it is true, then we must beware of the words of Merlin the Sage, though I doubt we have much to fear from a son or daughter of the race of revenants. Their gift will merely be a torment to them. For now, however, there is a task that you must accomplish swiftly, for the Hallowed Evening hastens upon us. Summon the chief clans of our Lady Lilith Cleopatra, Athaliah, Makeda, Lamia, Persephone, Naamah, Morgana, Gorgon. Call them together for a Conclave. I will tell you of the place and time shortly. Go forth now, swiftly and secretly.""What of Jezebel the chiefest of all the clans?" said one of the still-spirits."The chiefest, yes, but also the most accursed," said the master bitterly. "Have not I told you never to speak that name?"The still-spirits remained silent."Go, now, and do as I have commanded."The still-spirits glided toward the entrance of the cave and through the waterfall. They seemed to vanish into the air as they were touched by the sunlight and rushed off to do their master's bidding.The master himself remained in the cave a moment longer. He closed his eyes, thinking on the woman who had taken the name Jezebel the woman he had once loved, and perhaps still did. She had been brave, and they had cast their lot together those hundreds of years ago. They could have ruled the world; that was the plan. Instead, they stood together on the Aventine Hill and watched Rome burn. The master could still feel the fire in his cat-like eyes and Jezebel's fingers crumbling to ash inside his palm. The rest of her body had soon followed and then she was no more. Her followers were either scattered or non-existent. It was only in lore that Jezebel was the chief of the clans.The master took a deep breath and strode toward the entrance of the cave. There was no use dwelling on the past. He had learned from it, and he wouldn't make the same mistakes again. He blinked twice, and his cat eyes transformed into ordinary human ones with warm, brown irises.No use frightening the mortals.He split the curtain of cascading water and stepped into the fresh air and sunshine, gliding quickly to the ground below.He had a good idea where to find the Seerand the thing his heart truly desired. After all, he had planted the seeds years ago.

Chapter Seven: The Usual Suspects

Technically, study hall was supposed to be done in the high school library, but Ethan and Zach preferred to escape to the theater for the hour-long study session just after lunch. The theater was just as quiet as the library and there was less of a chance of being interrupted by other students. Besides, the teachers didn't mind as long as they kept it quiet. Which, when studying or doing anything with Zach was not a problem (except for when he had a gulping fit because of his Tourette's).This day, however, the drama club had taken over the theater after lunch and were currently having a loud debate on which play they wanted to put on before Christmas The Picture of Dorian Grayor a gothic re-imagining ofLittle Red Riding Hood. So, Ethan and Zach headed for the gymnasium to squeeze in their hour of studying.The dimly lit, airy space smelled of sweat and sneakers as Ethan swung open the door that connected the main school building with the gym. As they headed for the top bleacher seats beneath the large window that opened onto a view of the track field, Zach blinked furiously as his face contorted into what looked like a scowl. Due to his Tourette's syndrome, he often had ticking fits blinking and making gulping noises almost involuntarily. When he was younger, he had been teased for it.A few minutes into their study session, the double-doors on the other side of the gymnasium swung open and two boys walked in."I can't believe Coach did that," said one boy who was bald except for the four-inch high mohawk down the center of his scalp; it was black except for the tips which were dyed red. "I mean,Joe Wayneof all people. I'd make a way better quarterback than him.""Yeah, I know," said the other boy who was just as tall as the first, but a bit stockier and well-muscled. "Nothing you can do about it now."Mohawk-hair just grunted.From their perch at the top of the bleachers, Ethan and Zach watched and listened silently. Ethan knew the Mohawk-haired boy was Arioc, and the stockier one was Alfred, the captain of the school's wrestling team. For two years straight, they had won the National High School Wrestling Championship. They were only two-fifths of the "Tagram boys" as he and his classmates called them. They had three brothers all the same age because they were pentuplets. From what he had heard, their father was a wealthy music label executive who had moved with his family to the Houston area two years prior."If you wanted it so bad, you could have," Alfred hesitated before continuing in a quieter tone, "you know, worked your magic.""No," said Arioc sounding frustrated. "Father said specifically not to do that while we're here.""Like he'd know," Alfred snorted. "But you shouldn't, anyway." The boys grabbed a pair of gym bags from the bench at the side of the hardwood and turned toward the door that Ethan and Zach had come through a few minutes before. "Good thing we're leaving here in a few weeks."Arioc shrugged. "I'm not that excited about leaving. I like it here better than the private schoolthe teachers are nicer, the subjects are easier, we actually get to see girls every day.""You and your girlfriends," Alfred shook his head. "You better not get too attached to this place.""Yeah, well, you seem to cherish that wrestling trophy.""It's nothing. I'm like a dragon I like hoarding shiny things," Alfred put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "But seriously, you have to be careful. We're here for a very specific reason; that comes first. We can't get distracted playing at mortal games. We can't let our glamour slip you especially. It's just a matter of time before a Samson meets his Delilah.""Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Arioc. "But, I'm gonna have fun while I have the chance. And I know that chance is shrinking.""Well, don't leave too many broken hearts in your wake.""I won't," said Arioc, "But I was talking about Joe Wayne. He's going to have a broken leg real soon."Ethan didn't think Arioc was joking; he wouldn't put anything past the Tagram boys. On top of that, he was confused about their conversation. What did they mean by "glamour"? And what was the real "reason" they had moved to the Houston area? He glanced at Zach who was having another ticking fit. As Arioc and Alfred left, he was blinking furiously and scrunching up his face. Then came the gulping noise which sounded louder than it really was in the cavernous gym.Ethan hoped the boys wouldn't notice, but Arioc did. He turned around just as the door was swinging shut and gave them a hard stare. His lips moved, but Ethan didn't hear any words.When the door slammed shut, Ethan said, "Man, you screwed that up."Zach blinked at him. He looked confused. "Whatwhat just happened?"Ethan started to gather up his books. "You heard them. We have to warn Joe Wayne.""What? Why?" Zach stared down at the book in his lap as though he couldn't remember why he had opened it. Checking his watch, he said, "We've only been here like fifteen minutes.""Didn't you hear what Arioc said?" Ethan asked.Zach looked around slowly. "No, I didn't hear anything. Was he here?"Ethan pressed his fingers to his forehead and squeezed his eyes tight. Was he imagining things now?

Chapter Eight: Ice Queen

"Ew, Samantha, I didn't know you liked to hang out after school with a bunch of stinky, sweaty guys," Anita called as she ran across the viewing platform of The Rink an indoor skatepark which also housed an adjoining ice rink to the front row of seats where Samantha sat."I'm not just hanging out," Samantha said without looking up from the textbook open on her lap. "I'm almost done with my homework. And you should be the last person who talks about who hangs around stinky, sweaty guys. You have five brothers.""Whatever," said Anita lazily. She flicked her chin-length, honey-blonde hair back from her face. The sound of wheels against the hardwood filled the air as skateboarders Ethan among them practiced kickflips, wheelies, and pivots."What do you want anyway?" Sam asked."Oh, I forgot to tell you something."Samantha rolled her eyes. "We were sitting beside each other in classes for eight hours and you forgot to tell me something?""Well, I did." Anita swung her backpack around and set it on the empty seat beside Sam. She unzipped it and pulled out a folded card. "Here," she said holding it out to Sam with both hands. "It's an invitation to my birthday party.""Oh, thanks," said Sam. "But isn't it like four weeks from now?""Well, yes," said Anita slowly. "I want to give everyone plenty of time to think about what presents they are going to give me."Sam shook her head but didn't say anything. Anita could be a bit self-centered."And one other thing," said Anita."What?""All the girls are wearing dresses to the party.""Sooo""You have to wear one too.""Or what?" Sam's wardrobe consisted of a very small number of dresses which she mostly wore to church, or to weddings and funerals (neither of which she had been to in her life)."Or nothing. You just have to wear one.""Fine," Sam sighed. "I'll see what I can do, but I'm making no promises." She closed her textbook and stuffed it, her completed homework, and Anita's party invitation inside her backpack."I'm sure you'll come up with something. And if not, we can always go shopping and " Anita suddenly stopped, her voice taking on a dreamy tone in addition to its usual laziness. "Oh, look, there's Joe Wayne.""And, exactly, who is he?" Sam said glancing up at the five-and-a-half foot tall brown-skinned, black-haired boy who was making his way to the hardwood after storing his books in one of the cubby holes by the door."You know," said Anita. "The new quarterback at the high school." She smoothed her hair, stood up straight, and smiled as he passed by the viewing platform. "Hi, Joe!" she called."Uh, hey," Joe said barely sparing her a glance."He said hey' to me," Anita whispered to Sam her voice brimming with satisfaction."I know. That is an utterly life-defining moment for you," Sam said. She wondered not for the first time how she and Anita had become friends.Out on the hardwood, Sam noticed Ethan call Joe over, and the two boys started talking. She waved until she got Ethan's attention and pointed to the door leading to the adjoining ice rink. He nodded in response."Where are you going?" asked Anita."To the ice rink. I need to practice. Wanna come?""Nah, I think I'll stay right here. I might ask Joe Wayne for his autograph." Anita pulled a bottle of nail polish from her backpack and sat down in the seat Sam had just vacated.

The interior of the ice skating arena was dimly lit. The pale, oval rink had a dull gleam. On one side of the arena were rows of seats ascending several rows back and up. The arena was surrounded by a gold rail. There was only one other skater a girl whom Sam thought, by her graceful bearing, was a much better skater than she was.The other girl, who was older by several years, skated over as Sam sat on the bench by the Zamboni to put on her skates."Hi." She had long, black hair and dark eyes, and wore a silver jacket with the Olympic logo on the front."Hi," said Sam. "You were in the Olympics?""No," the girl smiled. "But I hope to qualify next year. What about you?""Nope. I only started skating because my parents think I play video games too much."The girl laughed. "I'm Felicia, by the way." She fingered a silver chain with a tiny diamond pendant on it."I'm Samantha," said Sam. "Nice necklace."Felicia looked surprised that Sam had noticed. "Thanks," she said. "Well, back to practicing for me." She glided backwards toward the middle of the arena, clasped her hands behind her back, and started making circles and figure-eights around the edge of the ring. As they skated, Sam watched Felicia out of the corner of her eye and tried to imitate her form leaning slightly forward and using the upper part of her body to direct her movement. She didn't dare go as fast as Felicia for fear of falling.As she skated, Sam began to feel drowsy which was strange. She swung her arms to liven things up and tried to go a bit faster. She figured Ethan would come for her in about ten minutes; they normally were home by at least an hour after school. Her drowsiness seemed to increase, and soon, she was just gliding by the gold rail around the edge of the ring. Her eyes closed. Her thoughts turned inward. She forgot all about Felicia.Around and around she went. She wondered what was taking Ethan so long. Sam remembered he seemed preoccupied talking with Joe. Maybe he hadn't really been paying attention and thought she had gone home. If so, then she should really get going.But, she stayed on the ice going around and around.Maybe I'm sleepwalking, she chuckled to herself.No, that would be sleep-skating. It feels so good. I'm nearly weightless. It's almost like flying. Maybe one day I'll be as good as Felicia.Sam was snapped out of her reverie by a crash and a yelp.Felicia!Sam gripped the gold bar to keep her balance and spun around. Near the center of the oval, Felicia had fallen and was trying to get back up always an awkward thing to do on the ice. Sam sped over to her, her sleepiness vanishing as suddenly as it had come."Thanks," Felicia grunted as Sam helped her to her feet. "I felt dizzy there for a moment.""That's funny," said Sam. "I did too Wait, here's your necklace." She stooped down to pick the jewelry up off the ice. The diamond pendant swung from her fist as she offered it to Felicia.But Felicia didn't take it. "Hold it a minute," she said, bending over pretending to tighten the laces on her skates.Sam did hold it. As she gazed at the diamond, she thought she heard a voice someone whispering. She spun around in a slow circle, but no one else was in the arena with them. She shrugged and looked at the diamond again, figuring it was nothing."Daughter," a woman's voice breathed."Who said that?" Sam called spinning around again. She looked back at Felicia who was tying the laces on her other skate."I didn't hear anything," Felicia shrugged, looking up at Sam, her eyes appeared to gleam in the dim light.Sam looked at the diamond. Was it making her hear things?No, that's impossible."I did," the whisper came again, and this time it was accompanied by a light breeze, as though someone had turned on the air condition in the arena. The cold air felt like icy fingers caressing her cheeks. "I did, daughter," the whispering voice said.Sam gasped and dropped the necklace. The pendant made a pinging sound as it struck the ice. The pinging grew louder and louder, a ringing that filled the air of the arena. The noise was irritating and deafening. Suddenly, it was interrupted by a loud crack.Crack!Sam looked down. A silvery-blue jagged line, several feet long, stretched across the ice. Sam knew she should be scared; she should run. Something very wrong and very dangerous was happening. But she was fixated on the crack in the ice.A form materialized beneath the surface blue-white and clouded in mist. The mist cleared, and a woman appeared pale, cold-looking, and regal. She appeared to be sleeping or frozen until her lips moved and she spoke."I did, my daughter." Her eyes opened, revealing icy blue irises, and she looked directly at Sam sending pinpricks of unspeakable fear across her skin. Sam screamed. Her feet suddenly regained their willingness to move. She turned and sped toward the entrance, her blades leaving deep grooves in the ice.The door opened before she could reach it, and Sam nearly slammed into Ethan. "Whoa," he said jumping back in surprise.Sam grabbed his arms and held on to keep from falling. The sounds of laughter and skateboard wheels against hardwood reached her ears from the adjoining arena. She sat down on the carpeted floor by the entrance to take off her skates."You look scared. Are you all right?" Ethan asked.Sam swallowed and took a deep breath. Her head was spinning. "I'm fine," she said."Are you sure? I thought I heard screaming. Was somebody in here with you?""Just another girl," Sam said as Ethan opened the door to the ice rink again. Sam peered around her brother to see inside.But Felicia was gone, and the ice was smooth, flat, and dull-looking.

Chapter Nine: Nicolai

The hot, afternoon sun burned Ethan's neck as he turned the corner and headed down the street to his house. He had spent the last hour skateboarding at The Rink. Something about being airborne, if only for a few seconds at a time, helped him clear his head. Getting back in the school routine had been pretty easy. Except for the science teacher, all of his other instructors had been at the school the previous year.A couple days earlier, he had talked to Joe Wayne and did his best to get across the message that one of the Tagram boys had it out for him and that he needed to watch his back. He hadn't seen Joe since and hoped he was taking his advice. He also had talked to Zach again, but Zach still acted as if he couldn't remember anything that Ethan was pretty sure he had heard Arioc and Alfred talking about in the gym that day.In other news, Ari had stopped asking him about joining art class. Ethan hadn't told her no outright, but he didn't want her to feel like he was hedging on something she obviously thought was important.Meanwhile, his strange dreams had increased. Like a recurring nightmare, the cathedral vision kept replaying in his head at nights sometimes, the dark scene was accompanied by the hideous chanting and other times with perfect, eerie silence. Sometimes the gargoyles were perched above the cathedral's windows and at other times they were marching back and forth outside the edifice. One thing that was constant though and this terrified Ethan more than anything was that every time he went inside, Sam was there, her green eyes dead, her skin sickeningly white. The emerald serpent was always there too, sometimes ascending from the pit, and other times vanishing into it, its fangs dripping with blood.Ethan shivered as he opened the front door to the two-story, pale brown, stucco-sided house. It was the only two-story house on the block.As soon as he stepped inside, he felt something was off.He pushed the door shut quietly and stood in the little hall which served as a coat room and opened up into the living room. He heard voices coming from the kitchen. His dad's, his mom's. And someone else's.Thursday.Ethan remembered that his father's new agent was supposed to be visiting. Reagan had had visits from book agents before. They sat down and discussed contracts, royalties, bidding, and book tours. Nothing odd about that.Get a hold of yourself, Ethan scolded. Another incident like this and he would admit himself to an asylum. He tried to relax the muscles in his neck and shoulders.Then he turned the corner into the kitchen, and the tension flooded his mind. His throat tightened and a cold chill ran up his back.There, in Ethan's seat at the dinner table, was a strange man. The agent?He had a thin frame and wild dark brown hair that looked as if it had been singed at the ends. The stringy hair seemed to move eerily about the man's head of its own accord as though it were floating in its own breeze. Ethan's mind conjured the image of Medusa the blind Gorgon of Greek mythology whose head writhed with serpents. But he quickly shut the door on that kind of thinking. The man's narrow face looked like an aged version of the Loki poster Sam had in her bedroom sly and beguiling. He sat with the chair tipped backwards against the wall, as though hebelongedthere.As Ethan entered the dining room, the man's eyes riveted upon him. Sitting up suddenly, he brought the chair down hard, the legs clattering against the kitchen tiles."Ethan!" he exulted. "How nice to meet you."Ethan cocked his head. The man had an odd way of speaking. His voice didn't seem to carry naturally across the room. It seemed to come fromelsewhere."Ah, Ethan," said Reagan looking up from a stack of papers he had been poring over possibly a contract. "This is Nicolai Malleus. Looks like we'll be working together for a while.""Indeed," said Nicolai.Ignoring Nicolai's outstretched hand, Ethan nodded stiffly and turned towards the refrigerator, grabbing the orange juice to chase away the dryness in his mouth. He poured himself a glass and turned back to the table leaning against the counter. Drinking slowly, he watched his mother and father discuss the terms of the contract.Sam.Where was she? Ethan looked around the table and saw Sam standing beside Nicolai's chair. Nicolai had one hand on Sam's shoulder as though he had known her all his life. Ethan must have been so fixated on the stranger that he had totally overlooked his sister."You learn much in school today, miss?" Nicolai asked."Sam, you want something to drink?" Ethan asked quickly."No, I'm fine," Sam said."Samantha." Ethan said sternly lowering his gaze until his eyes locked with Sam's. She understood immediately."Excuse me," she said as she slipped around Nicolai's chair. She glared at Ethan.What's your problem?"Matter of fact," said Amanda. "Pour us all something to drink, Ethan."Ethan pulled three more glasses from the cabinet and filled them, setting them on the dining table. He grabbed his own drink and watched Nicolai out of the corner of his eye. Nicolai guzzled the drink and set the empty glass down on the table with a loud clunk."Ah! More!" he said.Reagan laughed good-naturedly. "You know," he said, "our orange juice is the same kind you get at the grocery store."Ethan grabbed the glass but nearly dropped it in surprise. The glass was scalding. He balanced it on the tip of his fingers all the way to the sink where he washed it out with cold water. Just to make sure, he pulled the fresh carton of orange juice out of the freezer and poured a glass-full.There, definitely cold.He slid the glass across the table to Nicolai, who seized it and raised it to his lips. This time, drinking more slowly.Ethan folded his arms and watched him closely. After a few seconds, he blinked twice.No way.He narrowed his gaze.Sure enough, tendrils of smoke rose around Nicolai's fingers making the glass mist.Ethan gaped.He's heating the juice with his bare hands. Who does that? How?Nicolai noticed Ethan watching. He pulled the glass from his lips and winked. "Some like it hot."

Chapter Ten: Blue Eyes

Ethan walked into his room and shut the door behind him. A few seconds later, the door opened and closed again."What was that all about?" Samantha asked."I don't like that man," said Ethan."Why?"Ethan shrugged. "He's evil. I can tell. And creepy.""You don't know that. And you can't just go around not liking people, Ethan." Samantha sat down on Ethan's bed, plucked his pillow from the bedspread and wrapped her arms around it. "At least get to know them first.""You didn't notice what he did with the juice." Ethan couldn't decide if he should make it a question or a statement."He drank it like he was thirstyreally thirsty."Ethan shook his head. It was no use trying to explain. He walked to the window and pushed aside the curtain. The dying sunlight streamed into the room. Since theirs was the only two-story house on the block, he could see the whole street from his window. Sam chattered on about something behind him. The sky was bruised dark blue, except for low down on the horizon where it was still tinged with an orange haze.Ethan placed his fingers against the glass, but the glass wasn't there.He was sinking being dragged down by something he couldn't see. The dark blue in front of him swelled and surrounded him, becoming darker. It wasn't sky; it was water. He was drowning.Suddenly, Sam appeared in front of him. She wore a party dress, which was odd. Panic was painted across her face. Her green eyes, open wide, were illuminated in the underwater gloom. Her cheeks puffed out as she fought to keep oxygen in her lungs. Her arms flailed. She hadn't learned to swim. She was drowning.Ethan felt tightness in his lungs. His oxygen was gone. He was sinking, being dragged down by the invisible thing clutching his ankles. Down, down, down. He didn't know how much longer he'd be alive."Ethan! You're not even listening to anything I'm saying."Ethan blinked and turned away from the window. "What?" he said, his breath catching in his throat. He suddenly felt tired, as if he'd been fighting someone or swimming for a very long time."Oh, Ethan! Your eyes!" Sam exclaimed jumping up off the bed."What?" said Ethan."They're blue!""No, they're not.""Look in the mirror."Ethan turned to the mirror over the dresser. Was that a tinge of blue in his irises? He blinked and looked again. No, his eyes were grey as always.In the mirror, Sam appeared beside him. She turned his face between her palms and studied his eyes. Ethan studied his tiny reflection in her emerald irises."Nope," Sam said, sounding a bit disappointed. "Boring gray as usual."Ethan grinned. "I like boring. What were you saying againbefore you thought my eyes suddenly changed color.""Nothing important." Sam turned the knob on the door as Ethan sat down at his computer desk. His vision returned to him."What are you up to?" he asked."Going to playHALOtill dinner.""You're not going anywhere?""Umm, no. Why?""Just wanted to know." Ethan pressed the power button on the iMac. "Have fun."As the computer booted, Ethan pondered the meaning of his vision at the window. In the vision, both he and Sam were drowning. But where? When? Why? He knew how to swim, but hadn't been in any water since the family's vacation to California. He didn't have any plans on getting in water anytime soon. But what if he and Sam were forced to? What if NicolaiNicolai!Yes, Ethan needed to find out more information about Nicolai Malleus.He logged in to the chat room that Zach had set up for the kids at his school.Zach u there?he typedWhat?Even in a chat room, Zach was curt.Need you to help me look up something.What?A personNicolai Malleus.There was nothing from Zach's end for a few moments and then a link to the website for Maleficarum Literary Agency.Got that from Google already, Ethan typed.Dig deep Think of him as a cat. I need info on his nine lives.My pleasureMore silence from Zach. Ethan drummed his fingers on his desktop and waited. A few moments later, Zach typed:Malleus last name of Germanic origin. Put together with the name of his agency, it means hammer of the witches.'More silence, and then:Name is linked to drug smugglers in S. America. Otherwise, the trail is clear.Ethan felt like they were missing something.Maybe it's not his real name, he typed.Maybeor he may be very good at covering his tracks.A ping sounded, and a new avatar popped up on the chat-room screen. The automatic welcome message read,nicolaimalleus has joined this chat.Ethan's mouth fell open.See this?he typed.A blinking cursor appeared by nicolaimalleus' username, and then the words,Looking for me?Ethan's fingers froze over his keyboard wondering what to type.Nicolai if it was really him typed again:Seek and ye shall find.The chat room screen flickered, wiping out the conversation, and a new message appeared:This chat has ended."Snap," said Ethan. He ran his hands through his hair. His cellphone rang. "Hello."Zach was on the other end. "He just fried the chat server.""Ohsorry, I think," said Ethan."No worries. He's gonna pay for destroying one of my machines." Ethan heard a rare spark of life in Zach's voice fueled by the desire to knock down firewalls, engage in digital espionage, and track an offender's whereabouts through the internet. Zach made a loud gulping noise on the other end of the phone before continuing. "But, whatever you're trying to track down this guy for, I suggest you keep it off the radar."The phone clicked as Zach hung up.

Chapter Eleven: Fire Dream

It was night, and Ethan wasn't familiar with his surroundings. The sky above was devoid of stars. His feet didn't seem to be touching the black pavement beneath him. He tried to turn to get a better look at where he was, but found that he couldn't. He felt like he was being held fast from behind and above.Straining to see out of his peripheral vision, he could make out nothing else but shadows thick, living blackness that he could feel.Suddenly, a hand materialized from the shadows at his right. A muscular boy's arm. Ethan felt as though he'd seen that arm somewhereattached to a body, of course, but he wasn't sure. The fingers gripped a piece of white chalk.Again, Ethan strained to see who the arm belonged to, but every time he felt as though he were about to get a glimpse of the person beside him, the shadows coalesced around the figure shrouding him from view.The arm stretched down to the pavement the person apparently was kneeling and drew a circle with the chalk. Inside the circle, five straight white lines were drawn, and a pentagram quickly took form. The arm retracted into the shadows, and then returned with a tiny, green object, setting it in the center of the pentagram.Ethan recognized it as a miniature house the kind that came with a monopoly board.The arm vanished again and then returned, this time holding a match. A cruel chuckle sounded from the shadows as the flame on the match-head touched the monopoly house.The flames licked the tiny house for a brief moment and then erupted consuming Ethan's vision. Ethan lifted his arm to shield his face from the wave of heat that surged toward him. He suddenly felt as though he were being lifted up and back. He clenched his eyes tight.A second later, he felt grass beneath his bare feet. He was standing in a front yard, and the two story house in front of him was on fire. A bike rested on its side in the grass near his feet, and beyond that, a football. A lawn mower sat by the fence. The property was hemmed in by a row of carrotwood trees on either side of the yard.Ethan looked around for any sign of where he was or whose house he was looking at, but the neighborhood, while unremarkable, was also unfamiliar. The windows of the second story of the house he stood in front of glowed a furious yellow-orange. Dark, billowy clouds of black smoke poured from an open window on the first floor. Ethan was starting to sweat. He took a step closer to the house straining to read the numbers painted on the mailbox by the front door. He wondered if anyone was inside.Just then, a burst of flame in the air caught his eye, and he looked up in time to see a fiery shingle break from the roof and tumble down to the yard. Ethan stepped out of its path. It crashed into the grass near the football, setting it on fire.Now flames shot out from where the shingle had fallen, crackling and hissing as it licked up the grass. But another sound had captured Ethan's attention.Is that someone screaming?Looking up at the second-story windows, a dark form flailed amidst the red-orange inferno. Ethan started for the porch, unsure of what do, but sure he had to do something to save whoever it was in the second-story room. As he reached the steps, he heard the sound of laughter behind him.He turned and. . . . . . . . . . . .Ethan awakened, tangled in the bedsheets, choking and gasping for breath. Sweat ran across his body in rivulets. He'd been standing very close to a burning house, yes. But, whose house was it? And who had set it on fire? And why was he there?He tossed aside the bedsheets and pulled his sweat-soaked t-shirt off. If it was just another vision or nightmare why was he sweating so much? Did he actually go in the house? Who was in the second-story room? And who had been laughing behind him? The voice had sounded familiar, but Ethan was too uncomfortable to try to figure out where he had heard it before right then.Need some water. Need some air.Ethan got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and let it run down his body. Reaching for the worn leather string tied around his wrist, he tried to pull it off, but it was too tight for him to pull over his hand now. He fingered the wooden beads with the strange black marks the only thing he had in his possession from his parents who had given him up for adoption when he was a baby. Not for the first time, he wondered what the black marks meant.As he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, a thousand questions flitted through his mind about his strange visions, about his real parents, about the house fire in his dreams. What did it all mean? Suddenly, the bathroom seemed too tight a space to contain him and all his questions.Need some air.Ethan snatched the door open and headed for the attic so he could get out onto the roof.

Chapter Twelve: Widow's Walk

Left hot and sleepless by his dream, Ethan quietly climbed the steps to the attic at the back of the house. He pushed open the circular wooden door painted green with a bright yellow knob in the middle and was met by the warm, golden glow of the vintage desk lamp that rested on a wooden ledge jutting out from the severely sloping ceiling. The ledge served as a desk. Slumped in a chair from the dining room with her head resting on her arm was Ethan's mother, Amanda. Her auburn hair covered her face, and her arm rested on her laptop keyboard pressing the keys causing a rapid succession ofe'sto appear on the spreadsheet that was open on the screen.Overworked already,Ethan thought. He gently moved his mother's arm off the keyboard and backspaced the errante's.With one finger occupied on the backspace' key, the day's mail which was partially opened and scattered on the cramped desktop caught his eye. He picked up an envelope addressed to "Mr. & Mrs. Reagan Eclaan"; the return address was from "Our Lady of the Angels Monastery" in Crozier, Virginia. Ethan's breath stopped for a moment, and his eyes traveled to the filing cabinet in the corner where he knew his adoption papers were stored. He had never looked at them he didn't know who his real parents were but he did know he had been adopted through an agency in Virginia.Our Lady of the Angels?It was too much to be a coincidence. Ethan flipped the envelope over. It had already been opened. It would only take a moment to peek at the letter inside.Just then his mother stirred, her hair billowing out from her face as she exhaled. Ethan quickly set the letter back on top of the other mail.He turned to the French doors on the other side of the attic which opened onto a walkway on the roof. The walkway led to the widow's walk that stretched out across half of the back of the house. It was a great place to observe the stars at night and Ethan had once suggested putting a telescope up there.He leaned over the railing now looking down on the backyard whic