The Ethereal Squadron_A Wartime Fantasy_Sorcerers of Verdun by Shami Stovall

Author:Shami Stovall [Stovall, Shami]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TCK Publishing
Published: 2018-12-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE RESISTANCE

GEIST PLACED HER HANDS ON top of her head, lacing her fingers together through her curly hair. Vergess followed suit. He stood still, keeping his gaze down and his posture relaxed.

The soldiers approached with Mauser rifles at the ready. They surrounded Geist and Vergess, jittery, casting their commanding officer frequent glances. Keller, his uniform tunic splattered with his own blood, muttered warnings and curses under his breath. He pointed to Vergess.

“They attacked us,” Keller stated. “And he consorted with the Belgians.”

Geist straightened her posture. “We’re citizens of the United States. We’ll return to our ship.”

Perhaps her statements would have allowed her to return to the docks unmolested, but Vergess destroyed all chances when he spat on Keller, his saliva arching to hit the soldier on the jaw. Geist had heard stories about the Germans. Always serious. Taking every offense to heart. If she could, she’d shake Vergess by the collar of his jacket—or strike him for his foolishness.

The enemy soldiers shouted among each other and brought their bayonets to bear on Vergess’s neck and Geist’s back.

“We’re in charge here,” a soldier stated. “We’re taking you both into detention.”

With a few quick shoves the soldiers pushed Geist together with the Belgian father and his teenage son. They gave her sorrowful glances, both a mix of pity and frustration. Vergess joined them, but not until one soldier struck him across the face with the butt of his heavy rifle. The force of the blow sounded as if it would hurt a normal man, but Geist knew it couldn’t have done much to an apex sorcerer. To her amusement, Vergess stumbled back and played into the blow, his black hair disheveled and hanging across his face.

Soldiers wrestled him into the group of detainees. Vergess kept himself close to Geist as he scanned the soldiers, his gaze lingering on their guns and ammunition. Geist kept her wits about her, knowing that normal men could still kill a sorcerer quite easily.

If an opportunity presented itself to attack, she would take it. But revealing their sorcery here in Antwerp would blow their cover.

But the moment we’re alone…

Civilians peeked out from behind wooden shutters and thick curtains, but when Geist met their gaze, they hid away. Doors locked and shops closed.

“God, forgive me,” the father muttered under his breath in hasty statements. “Watch over my family. Let my wife know I love her. Protect my unruly son.”

The teenager, sullen, stared at his feet. Blood dripped from his nose and lips, spilling in droplets across his leather shoes.

“March,” Keller commanded.

Geist walked where the soldiers told her to walk, biding her time, her mind racing. The Germans steered her toward the edge of Antwerp.

The old stone walls of the city stood in shambles. Debris from the German siege littered the outskirts—barbed wire filled in the holes in the wall and shreds of clothing caught on the sharpened metal told a desperate story Geist didn’t care to think of.

A terrible odor of decay hung in the air with the fog once they exited the city.

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