This Present Darkness (51 page)

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Authors: Frank Peretti

BOOK: This Present Darkness
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“Yes, speak up!”

“He is gathering the prayer cover for the operation tonight. He should be here any moment.”

“Any moment may be too late.” Guilo looked toward the buildings below. “Any moment and Susan might be dead.”

 

TAL WATCHED WHILE
the gathered people prayed intently as the Holy Spirit led them and empowered them. They were praying specifically for the confounding of the demonic hosts. It just might be enough! He slipped out of the house, shrouded by the darkness. He would pass quickly through the town and then fly to the Strongman’s Lair, hopefully in time to save Susan’s life.

But no sooner had he stepped into the narrow and rutted alley behind the house than he felt a sharp pain in his leg. His sword flashed into view in an instant, and in one quick movement he beheaded a small spirit that had been clinging to him. It dissolved in a puff of blood-red smoke.

Another spirit clamped onto his back. He swept it away. Another on his back, another on his leg, two more slashing and nipping at his head!

“It is
Tal!
” he heard them squeak and chatter. “It is Captain Tal!”

Much more of this noise and they would bring Rafar! Tal knew he would have to vanquish them all or risk exposure. The demons around his head went quickly enough. He swept his sword up and across his back and dismembered the one clinging there.

But they seemed to multiply. Some of them were quite sizable, and all were greedy for the reward Rafar would give for whoever revealed Tal’s whereabouts.

A large, laughing spirit flew in close for a look at Tal, and then shot straight into the sky. Tal followed after him in an explosion of light and power and grabbed his ankles. The spirit screamed and began to claw at him. Tal dropped back to earth like a stone, dragging the spirit down with him, the spirit’s wings flapping and fluttering like a torn umbrella. Once under the cover of trees and houses, Tal’s sword sent the spirit into the abyss.

But more demons were coming upon him from all directions. The word was spreading.

 

TWO POWERFUL AND
muscular guards, the same two men who had once been her tuxedoed escorts, dragged and carried Susan between
them, hardly letting her use her own feet to carry herself, across the grounds, up onto the porch of the big stone house, inside, up the ornate staircase, and down the upstairs hall to her room. Kaseph followed, cool, collected, perfectly ruthless.

The guards threw Susan down in a chair and held her there with their full weight, preventing her escape. Kaseph took a long, icy look at her.

“Susan,” he said, “my dear Susan, I am not really shocked at this. Such problems have happened before, with many others, many times. And every time we’ve had to deal with it. As you well know, such problems never remain. Never.”

He moved in close, so close his words seemed to slap her like little whips. “I never trusted you, Susan, I told you that. So I’ve kept my eye on you, I’ve had the others keep their eye on you, and I see now that you have rekindled your friendship with my …
rival
, Mr. Weed.” He laughed at that.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, dear Susan. Since the moment your Mr. Weed went to the
Ashton Clarion,
we have made his business, every aspect of it, our business: where he goes, whom he knows, whomever he calls, and whatever he says. And as for the hurried and careless call you made to him today …” He laughed loudly. “Susan, did you really think we wouldn’t monitor every phone call going out of here? We knew you would make your move sooner or later. All we had to do was wait and be ready. An undertaking such as ours is naturally going to have enemies. We understand that.”

He leaned over her, his eyes cold and cunning. “But we most certainly do not tolerate it. No, Susan, we deal with it, harshly and abruptly. I had thought that one little harassment would silence Weed, but now I find that, thanks to you, he knows far too much. Therefore, it will be best if you
and
your Mr. Weed are taken care of.”

All she could do was tremble; she could think of nothing to say. She knew it would be useless to beg for mercy.

“You have never been to one of our blood rituals, have you?” Kaseph began to explain it to her as if giving a short lecture. “The ancient worshipers of Isis, or Molech, or Ashtoreth, were not too far afield in their practices. They understood, at least, that the offering of a human life to their so-called gods seemed to bring the gods’ favor upon them.”

“What they performed in ignorance, we now continue with enlightenment. The life-force that intertwines itself through us and our universe is cyclical, never-ending, self-perpetuating. The birth of the new cannot occur without the death of the old. The birth of good is created by the death of evil. This is karma, dear Susan, your karma.”

In other words, he was going to kill her.

 

A WARRIOR ASKED
Guilo, “What is that? What are they doing?”

They both listened. The cloud, still stirring and swirling slowly about the valley floor, was trickling and babbling now with a strange sound, an indefinable noise that gradually rose in volume and pitch. At first it sounded like the rush of faraway waves, then it grew into the roar of a numberless mob. From this it crescendoed into an eerie wailing of millions of sirens.

Guilo slowly brought his sword out, and the metal of the blade rang.

“What are you doing?” asked the warrior.

“Prepare!” Guilo ordered, and the order was spread among the group. Ring, ring, ring went their blades as each warrior took his sword in his hand.

“They’re laughing,” said Guilo. “There’s nothing we can do but go in.”

The warrior was willing, and yet the thought was unthinkable. “Go in? Go into … that?”

The demons were strong, brutal, savage … and now they were laughing with the smell of approaching death like sweet perfume in their nostrils.

 

TRISKAL AND KRIONI
came swooping into the valley, swords blazing and sweeping in lethal arcs of light as demons disintegrated on all sides. Other warriors shot into the sky like flares from a cannon, plucking fleeing demons out of the air, silencing them.

Tal was in a real bind, wishing he could release his fighting power full force and yet needing to remain subdued lest he draw attention to himself. Thus he could not vanquish the spirits now clustering on him
like angry bees in one violent attack, but rather had to pluck them off one by one, hacking and chopping with his sword.

Mota entered the scuffle and came in close to Tal, swinging his sword and plucking demons off his captain like bats off a cave wall. “There! There now! And another!”

Then came one infinitesimal moment when Tal was clean of demons. Mota quickly slipped into his place while Tal vanished into the ground.

The spirits were enraged by the fighting, and at first continued to flock and circle about the area; but then they realized that Tal had somehow slipped away and they were only placing themselves in the hands of heavenly warriors to be destroyed for no reason.

Their numbers quickly dwindled, their cries ebbed away, and soon they were gone.

Several miles outside of Ashton, Tal shot out of the ground like a bullet from a rifle, streaking across the sky, a trail of light following him like the tail of a comet, his sword held straight out in front of him. Farms, fields, forests, and highways became a blur beneath him; the clouds became rushing mountains passing by on either side.

He could feel his strength building with the prayers of the saints; his sword began to burn with power, glowing brilliantly. He almost felt it was pulling him through the sky.

Faster and faster, the wind screaming, the distance shrinking, his wings an invisible roar, he flew for the Strongman’s Lair.

 

A VERY STRANGE-LOOKING,
black-robed and beaded, long-haired little guru from some dark and pagan land stepped into Susan’s room at Kaseph’s bidding. He bowed in obeisance to his lord and master, Kaseph.

“Prepare the altar,” said Kaseph. “There will be a special offering for the success of our endeavor.”

The little pagan priest left quickly. Kaseph returned his attention to Susan.

He took one look at her and then gave her the back of his hand.

“Stop that!” he shouted. “Stop that praying!”

The force of the blow nearly knocked her out of the chair, but one
guard held her firmly. Her head sank and she began to sob in very short, shallow gasps of terror.

Kaseph, like a conqueror, stood above her and boasted over her limp and trembling form. “You have no God to call upon! With the nearness of your death you crumble, you fall back upon old myths and religious nonsense!”

Then he said, almost kindly, “What you don’t realize is that I’m actually doing you a favor. Perhaps in your next life your understanding will be deeper, your frailties will have fallen away. Your sacrificial gift to us now will build wonderful karma for you in the lives to come. You’ll see.”

Then he spoke to the guards. “Bind her!”

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