Leviathan

Camael stared thoughtfully at the Lab, absently reaching up to run his fingers through his goatee. “Interesting,” he observed. “Perhaps your animal has become more complex than even you understand.”

Aaron shook his head, confused. “I don’t…”

“When the animal was healed before—”

“This animal has a name,” Gabriel interrupted with a

“It’s okay, boy,” Aaron said, patting the dog’s head, comforting him.

“As I was saying,” Camael said, glaring at the dog, “when the animal was healed before, the power you wielded was raw, in its purest form—its most potent state. You commanded it to repair Gabriel, and it did just that—only I think it may have altered him as well.”

“I don’t feel altered,” the dog said. “My leg just hurts.”

“Are you saying that Gabriel is too complicated a life-form for me to fix now?”

The angel nodded.

“But how could I have done that?” Aaron asked as he gently stroked his dog’s side.

“You didn’t,” Camael corrected. “You just gave the command, and the presence within you took it from there.”

If he hadn’t been afraid of the power that lived within him before, he certainly would be now, but that didn’t change the fact that Gabriel was still hurt. “Gabriel needs medical attention,” Aaron said, staring down at his best friend. “He may be a complex life-form, but he still needs to have that bite cleaned up.”

“Then I suggest we continue on with our journey,” the angel said, “and hopefully we’ll be able to find medical help for him in Blithe.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Aaron said after a moment’s thought. He reached out and hefted the eighty-pound canine over his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said sarcastically to the angel, grunting with exertion, “I got him.”

“Yes, you do,” Camael said as he strode into the woods toward the direction of the car.

“Sometimes he bugs the crap out of me,” Aaron muttered, following the angel, careful not to stumble with his burden.

“That’s just how they are,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly.

“How who are?”

“Angels.”

“What, you’re an expert on angels now?”

“Well, I am a complex being,” the dog replied haughtily.

CHAPTER FOUR

I am the shaman. They should have listened to me, Shokad of the Orishas thought as he feverishly wove his ancient elemental magicks and tu

His throat as dry as dust from spell casting, Shokad stopped speaking, and the earth stilled around him. He leaned close to the curved tu

Where do I go from here? the shaman pondered. He closed his eyes, and his mind immediately was filled with blissful images of what could only have been the Safe Place. He saw his people, the ones who had abandoned the Deheboryn many seasons ago, living in harmony with nature, no longer fearing the wrath of the Powers. “They were not killed,” he muttered, completely enthralled with the vision. They had managed to evade the wrath of Verchiel and his soldiers, and had found Paradise.

Shokad blessed himself repeatedly, basking in the glory that was the vision of his people thriving within the confines of the Safe Place. It filled him with such joy—and a newfound purpose.

The shaman opened his eyes to the cool darkness of the tu

He faced the solid wall of dirt before him and recited the ancient words taught by his angelic creators. With these words he could commune with the elements, making them bend to his requests. Shokad asked the dirt wall to allow him passage, and it did as it was asked, flowing around the shaman as he moved toward the promise of Paradise. The wings upon his back flapped eagerly as he trudged through the earth, the Safe Place whispering in his ear, closer—and closer still.

Again he saw them in his mind, those that had left the tribe long ago. So happy, he thought. If only Mufgar had had the courage to abandon the old ways, he and Zawar and Tehom could all have experienced the joy that was soon to be his.

The Safe Place was singing now, urging him forward with even greater speed. You are so close, it said in a voice filled with promise. So close to realizing your dream.

Shokad spoke the words of the spell faster, and the earth in front of him melted away like water. Partly ru

“Oh, Shokad, you are almost here.”

The Orisha began to giggle and angled his tu

“So close, Shokad. So, very very close.”

The shaman broke through to the surface. His hands were cracked and bleeding, and the air upon them was cold and damp. Where is the warm sunshine? he at first wondered.

Shokad squirmed from the hole in the ground and peered through the eerie greenish light. He found himself in a vast, underground cavern. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the walls of rock, he could hear the rush of water.

“I am here,” he said aloud, expecting his people to come forward and welcome him. They did not—but something else moved amongst the rocks at the far end of the cave.

“Greetings,” Shokad said as he scrambled toward the noise. It was an odd sound, like something large and heavy being dragged across the rocks. “I am Shokad.”

Perhaps they are afraid, he thought as he climbed over the rocky ground, deeper into the cavern. “I mean you no harm,” he said aloud. “I, too, have come seeking Paradise.”

As he drew closer, he could just barely discern objects in the shadows—fleshy, egglike sacks that hung upon a large, muscular mass, blacker than the cave’s deepest shadows. It writhed and pulsed, a thing alive.

“What are you?” Shokad whispered. Cautiously, he stepped forward. “Where are my people?” He stood on tiptoe to peer inside some of the opaque, membranous growths—and his questions were answered.

The Orisha shaman wanted to scream, to ask the divine power that had brought him here why it had shown him this horror, but he didn’t have a chance. Something slithered with lightning speed from the shadows behind him and grasped him it its heavy, wet embrace.

Yes, Shokad wanted to scream—for neither he nor his people had found Paradise.

So this is Blithe, Aaron thought as he drove into the center of town. He expected more, but it was much like every other small town they’d driven through in the last two weeks. Quaint old shops, their windows displaying dusty souvenirs, surrounded a grassy common with a fancy white bandstand in its center. It was a beautiful, su

“How you doing, Gabe?” Aaron asked the dog lying quietly in the backseat.