The ORDER of the PHOENIX: Merkabah and city of lost souls by J. Cammeron

Author:J. Cammeron [Cammeron, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: k'12
Published: 2017-03-08T16:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

Magical Tools

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

~ The song of the dead ~

Ragel often used portals. He was used to feeling weightless and dizzy. It almost felt like he was being taken apart atom by atom and reassembled somewhere else. But this time it was different. Very different. The icy whirlwind swirled them endlessly in the current of air, which, ironically, he couldn’t get enough of. He thought they would suffocate before than they would reach some God forgotten corner of the world. At last, Ragel felt a brisk impulse, and he and Zoe plummeted down.

Preparing for the rough fall onto hard ground, he balled his legs, but instead he plunged into icy slime-smelling water. When he felt the bottom with his feet, he pushed away, emerged on the surface, and took a deep breath as he looked around to see where Rampla’s corridor brought them.

The hunter brushed away his wet hair that was sticking to his face and stared into the darkness diluted by the faintly shimmering stars and the waxing crescent. The mirror surface of the lake reflected the distant scattered light of the yellow street lamps creeping up the serpentine from the ground to the very skies.

But he didn’t care. Splashing through the water, he ran to Zoe who was lying by the shore. Her face was dead pale and her shirt was soaked in blood and mud. Her tangled hair wrapped around her neck like a cocoon. In one swift motion Ragel took off his cloak and laid it on the ground. Carefully he put Zoe on it and pushed away the torn ends of the cloth to observe her wounds. Her arms and shoulders were covered in deep cuts, while there was a smooth yet gaping hole just beneath her shoulder blades. He brought his ear to her chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat. Fortunately, in the dead silence he discerned a barely audible flutter of a heart.

“Hold on just a little longer,” he whispered. The young girl’s eyelids quivered slightly, as if to let him know that she was trying her best. Ragel raised the edges of his cloak, as if swaddling a baby, and looked around. The river water still streamed down his hair and face, tracing his cheekbones and chin and dripping onto his protruding clavicle. The night was too dark for him to see anything.

The hunter pressed his fingers on the ‘Nair’ symbol that allowed him to see in the dark.

“Phonex Sed veni, et confortavit me.”

The next moment the darkness around him dissolved as if a drop of chlorine was added to a cup of coffee, and the hunter’s pupils dilated, taking up the entire iris of his dark eyes.

‘I never thought I’d find myself here again,’ Ragel stared before him with a gloomy face. On the peak of the Moss Mountain stood Nordgarde.

This place was infested with countless evil spirits, far more than in any other corner of the world. The outskirts of Bron, where Nordgarde was located, was swarming with Strigoi – dangerous and bloodthirsty beasts.

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