AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Whispering a prayer, perhaps I could reach the angel inside the monster.
Recoiling, it rolled to its side, wailing as it covered its face. I felt a dozen eyes on me, watching from behind the masks. The sect leaned over the wooden railings, some whispered amongst themselves, and I caught my face, wrinkled, worried in their mirrored masks.
Groaning, the beast curled, drawing its knees to its chest, shaking as I continued the prayer. His cry tore through my heart as he suddenly jolted, moving onto his hands and knees, convulsing.
I edged back as an angel fought to free itself from the fur and muscle of the werewolf. The stench of blood and flesh filled my senses as his skin tore open. I grimaced at the sound of his bones snapping as the beast disappeared and the angel was free.
As his screaming continued, Adara stood deathly still. He was left shrieking, his voice hollow before the surrounding air thickened. A shimmering cloud of silver shrouded him. Then he became silent.
Standing before me, his face resembled a Renaissance statue. High, smooth cheekbones, straight nose and rounded chin. A tumble of white curls hugged his ears. His body was taut, lean like a warrior, fast on his feet. Small plump lips parted, but his eyes, the colour of spun gold, stared forward, lifeless. Soulless. Just like a statue. And what looked like hoarfrost on his lashes, on his fair brows, and twinkled in his hair. His wings were still bent and torn. He made no move. More like an automaton waiting to be plugged in.
Mesmerised by his beauty, aside from his wings, his perfection, I found I was almost frozen.
So I had unlocked the angel from the monster. What now?
I jumped as a voice shouted above me.
“Nunc!”
I knew that nunc was Latin for now and just like that, the dead angel sprung to life…
Hollow eyes bore into me. A glint of light gleamed from his blade. Wasting no time, I pulled the cards. Knight of Swords.
In seconds, I closed my eyes, visualising the power of the knight, as the sound of metal scraping on the ground screeched through me. The angel held his sword low, dragging the blade across the stone floor. It juddered across the metal grating.
My mouth watered, frowning. I had to concentrate; I had to pull in the power. But now I couldn’t stop trembling, even though I had just forced the monster back to an angel.
He strode closer. My hands trembled. I had nothing. Again, I forced the feeling, imagining I was the knight of swords. How did the knight feel? Strong, fast, relentless? My muscles stiffened as I fought, trying in vain to embody the characteristics from the tarot. Strength, power as the angel drew ever closer. It was like my magic was being blocked.
Squinting, I looked up to see him raise his sword as he drew closer to me.
I threw the card at him. It was weak, feeble. Was Adara obstructing me? They stood there, hiding behind their masks, not moving.
I landed on my backside after the floating card jolted me backwards. Unable to spring up, I felt weighed down. My wrist was grounded to the floor because in my hand I held a heavy sword.
I really should’ve thought harder about that card.
Pushing myself up, I lugged the sword up, then realised my error as the angel had gained on me faster than I’d realised.
His eyes seemed to glow. I pulled the weapon before me to block his sword. Forcing my arm down, his strength was ten times stronger than mine, even with magic.
It compelled me to lurch back, dart as quickly as I could with a sword behind him before my arm, animated with magic, came crashing towards his back.
But he had been a warrior in life, and even though he was animated by enchantment, he had more experience than me. He’d spun around quickly.
My blade met his in a clash of steel. I stumbled as he drove me backwards. Gritting my teeth, I widened my stance. But he was simply too strong.
My arms were driven up, almost above my head, then he flicked his wrist, and I felt a sting on my thigh, sweat breaking on my forehead.
And the burning in my wrists and arms as my muscles cramped. Magic only took me so far. Unlike him, I wasn’t trained in the art of war.
A low rumbling of a growl in the distance had my heart skip a beat, my confidence almost defeated.
I should run away. I parried for what seemed an hour, but was a matter of seconds before running back, panting, trying to catch my breath.
Then another growl came again from within the corridors that surrounded this keep, echoing through the walls. Adara stirred. Some peered, leaning over the barriers above the archways, trying to see the monster that was heading my way.
A fearful glance over my shoulder, I now saw what Adara sent to finish me.
