The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit (12 page)

Harundor lifted a hand to his forehead
and squinted at the crowds below. ‘I, Braihon Harundor, protector
and humble servant of the people of Jenjol, hereby swear fealty to
Seeol, the Hand of Maker and the Holy Spirit. I give my kingdom
over into His hands: the hands of Maker Himself. I do so with a
humbled heart that the Lord may do with me as He pleases.
Amen.’

The man took a step back and bowed. In
like manner, the people dropped to their knees and lowered their
faces to the dirt.

Seeol felt overwhelmed to say the
least. He didn’t understand every word that’d been spoken, but as
far as he could tell, he’d recently made a great deal of new
friends. Silence prevailed, both the royal family and the folks
below maintaining their positions. Finally, Seeol realised that
perhaps he was expected to say something: to introduce himself. ‘I
am Seeol,’ he began. ‘I will be your friend, but I must go to Old
World.’

‘
Of course, Holy
Spirit.’ The king rose steadily and with him did his subjects. ‘The
time has come and with Your good will, we cannot fail.’

‘
We must find the
Elglair,’ Seeol continued. ‘They will be my friends, too. Please
don’t hurting them anymore. We can all go to Old World together and
help.’ Seeol smiled inwardly. He just knew that the other silts
would be like Ilgrin and everyone would be able to get along like
the very best of friends.

‘
Of course!’ Harundor
exclaimed. ‘We will do as you say and form an alliance with the
Elglair. Together we will be indestructible. Together, we shall
travel to Old World and there we shall obliterate the demon
threat.’

‘
Yes!’ Seeol shrieked
excitedly. He’d never heard the word 'obliterate' before, but felt
certain it must mean something similar to 'cuddle.' ‘We will
obliterate them!’ Seeol cried, hopping about excitedly on his tall,
golden perch.

The crowd below roared with enthusiasm,
cheering and shouting joyously. Seeol’s heart swelled at the
realisation that he’d made them happy. El-i-miir would’ve been so
proud.

‘
My Lord, Holy
Spirit,’ the king said with quiet determination. ‘I must tend to
your orders immediately. With your blessing, I will send scouts
ahead to meet with the Elglair.’

‘
Yesh.’ Seeol bobbed
his head. ‘But don’t trust Far-a-mael.’

‘
He is their
leader?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
We will never trust
them too much, Holy Spirit,’ Harundor said reassuringly. ‘The
Elglair abandoned You long ago. We know this just as You know that
we are your true people.’

‘
They did abandon
me.’ Seeol gaped at Harundor, surprised by his knowledge. How could
he have known that El-i-miir and the others abandoned him in the
tool shed? The king truly must be a powerful man. ‘But we must find
them all the same.’

‘
Of course.’ The king
bowed as he moved away. ‘An alliance is the only way we will be
strong enough to take Old World.

‘
Yes.’ Seeol tilted
his head, uncertain as to where exactly the king was planning to
take Old World. He might’ve enquired further, but Harundor scurried
away to carry out his duties.

‘
My Lord, Holy
Spirit, the Hand of Maker, our Father from above,’ said a girl
several years younger than Seteal as she approached in a silky
maroon dress. She wore a single golden glove patterned in leaf-work
embroidery and had rich red hair that tumbled down her back. ‘I am
your humble slave, Ieane. Of course, you may call me whatever you
wish. King Harundor has asked me to show you to your personal
chambers.’ She raised her gloved hand, allowing Seeol to step up
onto her fingers.

‘
Yes, please, Ieane.’
Seeol bobbed his head in agreement. ‘We will be good friends and
you will not be a slave because you are my friend.’

‘
As you wish, Holy
Spirit.’ The girl bowed her head respectfully before making her way
inside, Seeol perched on her decorative glove. A short trip along
darkly lit stone corridors led to a rather old-looking door. At the
top of the door, a square hole had been carved hastily to allow for
the comings and goings of an elf owl. A small maroon curtain hung
in the owl-sized entrance out of respect for Seeol’s privacy. Not
that he really needed any. He was only an elf owl, after all.
Seteal and the others made sure to remind him of that.

‘
Your chambers, my
Lord,’ Ieane raised her hand toward the square entrance.

‘
For me?’ Seeol
stepped into the opening and nuzzled the curtain aside. ‘Can I look
and play?’

‘
You may do as you
wish, my Father,’ Ieane replied, her eyes downcast.

‘
Thank you.’ Seeol
tilted his head, confused as to how the girl might’ve mistaken him
for her father. But of course, these people called him a lot of
unfamiliar names. It didn’t bother Seeol. He was happy just to have
so many new friends. Not so long ago, Seeol hadn’t even had a name.
He’d accepted Seeol only because it was what the others chose to
call him. Why not allow the Jenjen the same opportunity?

Seeol flew down into the chamber. It
was all too much. The bed could’ve fit several humans. There was a
table and chairs. There were mirrors and bookshelves. There was
even a large clock. Seeol practiced his laugh and flew back to the
doorway.

‘
Come in! Come in,
Ieane.’

‘
May I?’ a deep voice
rumbled. It was not Ieane’s. The girl stood behind a tall slender
man wearing an imposing green robe. He had black hair and dark
eyes.

‘
Come in,’ Seeol
replied with caution, before flying toward his table and coming to
rest on the back of a chair. The main door opened to reveal the
strange man returning a key to Ieane before entering.

‘
I am Den Damah.’ The
tall man bowed several strides from Seeol’s chair. ‘High Priest of
Veret.’

‘
Yes.’ Seeol shrugged
his wings.

‘
Yes . . . ?’ High
Priest Damah narrowed his eyes. ‘As the all-knowing Hand of Maker,
you must know the truth of my secret.’

‘
I know many naughty
secrets,’ Seeol said in confusion. Had the stranger learnt of
Seeol’s past misdeeds?

‘
I’m certain you do.’
Damah’s voice quivered anxiously. ‘But I’m humbly asking if you
might explain this?’ He reached into his pocket to retrieve a
spherical stone no larger than Seeol’s eye. So black was the stone
that it appeared to shine darkness, thereby draining the light from
its immediate surroundings. As a result, its exact dimensions were
hard to determine.

‘
That is mine.’ Seeol
stared at the stone in horror. He had never seen it before, but it
looked exactly like something he knew very well.

There existed a tree in a clearing in
the northern parts of Narvon Wood. It was black to such a point
that it drained light from the air and set a burden to the soul. It
was the tree beneath which Seeol had hatched.

‘
Yes, Master.’ The
high priest fell to his knees. ‘It is yours.’

‘
It is of terrible
evil.’ Seeol’s face sunk to the floor. It could only be a thing of
evil, just like him.

‘
Then you truly are
He.’ Damah’s chin quivered. ‘You recognise your own creation for
the darkness it bears.’

‘
Yes
,’ Seeol said bitterly,
realising that the stone must have been found near his tree. ‘It is
from the woods were it all began.’

‘
Yes,’ Damah replied.
‘You trusted it to Sa’Tan, but he defied You. Instead of doing as
he’d been instructed, he used it to forge a gateway between our
worlds and illegally entered the garden of Edin.’

‘
What?’ Seeol cocked
his head in utter confusion. ‘Where is it from?’

‘
We believe it was
found by demons in Cold Wood, where the gates were opened for the
first time so very long ago,’ Damah replied, failing to answer the
question that Seeol had actually asked. ‘They took the Devil’s
Stone to Old World and there it remained for thousands of years.
And, of course, You know it was brought here by a distant ancestor
of mine. Thereafter, it was passed down from father to son. But You
are the rightful owner of the stone.’

‘
Ancestor.’ Seeol
tried out the word, unfamiliar of its meaning.

‘
I’m sorry, Father.’
The blood left Damah’s face. ‘Forgive me. Forgive me, but, yes, my
long dead ancestor was a Sa’Tanist. Although he did commit the
unforgivable sin of demon worship, in the end he came back to the
fold to resume his worship of You.’

‘
Don’t care,’ Seeol
replied, having become bored of the conversation. ‘Give it.’ He
pointed at the stone in the man’s hand.

‘
Of course.’ Damah
placed the stone into Seeol’s talons. ‘It is yours to do with as
you wish.’

‘
What should this do
with it?’ Seeol asked.

‘
That is not for
mortal man to decide.’

‘
Just tells me,’
Seeol grumbled in frustration.

‘
Of course! You’re
testing me,’ Damah squeaked. ‘The Holy Tome refers to it as a stone
of great power. When Maker went away, it was given to Sa’Tan the
Devil so that he could protect the inhabitants of our world from
his residence in Hae’Evun. Instead of doing as he’d been
instructed, he used the stone for evil. He was jealous of our world
and created a gateway. Then, after stealing the sacred power of
resurrection, he and his kin broke through into the realm of
man.’

‘
What did happened to
the gates?’ Seeol asked.

‘
Many months after
the gates had been opened, they grew weak and collapsed in on
themselves, thereby ceasing to exist. Maker had been wise enough to
know that even His most beloved servant might use His power for
wickedness. In the case of such heresy, He’d given the stone’s
power certain limitations. It can work miracles, but they do not
last indefinitely. It is fabled that the stone can only be used
three times and that each time its power will grow weaker and its
duration much shorter.’ Damah sighed. ‘We turned our backs on You
and now our world is rife with sin.’

‘
Thank you.’ Seeol
stared into the hypnotic blackness of the stone. Unlike the tree
beneath which he’d been born, the stone was strangely warm and
welcoming. ‘I think I will be rested now.’

‘
Of course.’ Damah
backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Seeol flew over to his large bed and
landed in its centre. He dropped the black sphere on the blankets,
before taking flight to the bookshelf.

‘
Holy Spirit?’ Ieane
called, lightly tapping on the door.

‘
Yes
?’ Seeol
responded.

‘
Forgive me this
intrusion, Great One,’ Ieane said with lowered eyes as she entered
the room.

‘
You is a great one,
too.’ Seeol bobbed his head, appreciating the
compliment.

‘
King Harundor has
asked if you’d like to attend the hanging this
afternoon.’

‘
Okay,’ Seeol
replied, despite having no idea what a hanging was. ‘Will you help
this book down?’ Seeol tapped his beak on a thick black book that
looked similar to the one Seteal had been carrying
around.

‘
Certainly.’ Ieane
pulled it out. Seeol flew over to his table and she followed,
placing the book flat on its surface.

‘
What is this?’ Seeol
prodded the golden text with his toe.

‘
You must know,’
Ieane gasped. ‘It is the Holy Tome.’

Seeol looked away. ‘I can’t read.’

‘
You can’t read?’
Ieane seemed shocked.

‘
Writing is a human
thing,’ Seeol said defensively. ‘Nobody ever taught me.’

‘
Of course,’ Ieane
said apologetically.

‘
Will you teach
me?’

‘
I’d be honoured,’
Ieane replied. ‘But if you wish to see the hanging, we really must
make our way outside.’

‘
Okay,’ Seeol
replied. ‘We’ll read later!’

*

The door opened with a clunk.
Briel awoke with a start. He thrust out his hand and gripped Fes’s
arm. He used his feet to push himself back against the slippery
wall. His chains clinked noisily and he cursed them silently. How
had he slept? How had he slept knowing
that today was the day?

He tried to plea for his wife’s
salvation, but the sound that came out was unintelligible. Light
poured into the dungeon and Briel’s eyes met Fes’s. Hers glinted
big and round, full of fear. The guards surrounded them. Men
grabbed their shoulders and prodded them onto hands and knees.
Briel wasn’t used to using his legs. He stumbled and came to a stop
when his head cracked against a wall. Blood oozed away from his
scalp.

A woman screamed. Was it Fes? Cruel men
laughed. A tunnel. Briel was in a tunnel, a sword pressed into his
back. He stumbled forward, one hand over his wound, the other still
maintaining contact with his wife. Bright light. Crowds were
roaring, screaming, excited by the coming execution. The sun shone
blisteringly bright in the eternal blue sky.

Fes fell on her face only to be kicked
in the side. Briel grunted as he leapt toward her aggressors, but
was dragged away up a short flight of stairs and onto the wooden
gallows platform. A rope was tightened around his neck. The king of
Jenjol watched, along with his royal cohort. There was a bird.