CHAPTER FOUR
“Is it the soul eater?” Emma asked just barely above a whisper.
Depositing Travis onto a rotting pew that looked like one of the few that wouldn’t fall apart on contact, I straightened, closed my eyes, and listened. Not just with my ears but I reached out to listen with the whole of my senses, gently probing at the energy outside the door.
The malevolent presence was almost overwhelming, yet I knew it would not be able to pass the threshold. Then again, the soul eater had already done one impossible thing today. Looking back at Emma I nodded. “Do not go near the windows or doors. It’s trying to scare us out into the open. We will wait until its power has dissipated. It cannot stay on this plane for long. Already its energy is ebbing.”
Much of my energy had been expended as well, but I pressed on.
Emma shivered despite being engulfed in my warm coat. “Good thing Travis is out cold then. I doubt his anxiety could handle the stress. He’d be running up and out the chimney if it was his only exit.”
There wasn’t a chimney in the small church. It was one large room with boarded-up windows. Golden light from the late afternoon sun seeped through cracks in the boards illuminating dust particles dancing angrily in the air at our disturbance. The banging echoed throughout the room like thunder, as if it were a sound chamber meant to amplify the knocks. The church smelled like rotted wood, along with the slight vanilla scent of the aging pages of books, reminding me of the Temple. Trash and pine needles littered the floor. Over by the pulpit, an oil drum lay on its side along with an abandoned, gray, tattered blanket. Vagrants had squatted here before.
I glanced down at Travis, the Propheros. If he knew the whole truth of what he was, he’d probably try more than climbing out of a chimney to escape his fate. The Propheros is the true savior, it is foretold that he shall rise to banish the coming darkness. As a Chevalier, I was bound to protect him with my life until he made the ultimate sacrifice.
“What’s a Chevalier?” Emma asked in a low voice, sitting on the edge of the rotting pew across from where I deposited Travis.
A jolt of surprise went through me.Could she hear my thoughts?
The heavybang bang bangcame again. Emma jerked and closed her eyes against the assault, her hands disappearing into the coat sleeves.
It took a moment to remember she couldn’t read my mind despite her bewitching presence. She must have heard the soul eater call me that.
“You’re sure it can’t get in?” There was a plea in Emma’s eyes, begging me for assurance.
I’d do anything to make her feel safe. After watching her for a week, the fantasy life I’d built around her was utterly out of hand. Also, I liked the way she looked bundled up in my coat far too much.
“Yes, I am sure.” I nodded. Then to assure her further I walked to the half-broken podium at the front of the church and reaching into its base, pulled out my broadsword. It was best to prepare any potential safe houses near the vicinity of the hunt.
Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she assessed my blade.
“A Chevalier is a servant to the Light.” I wanted to tell her more, but I stopped myself.
I must remember, as a servant, I am of no consequence to anyone and can never be so until I have atoned.
“So you are like super strong?” Her eyes swept up and down my body with interest. My body temperature rose several degrees.
“My physical strength is derived from the same means as a civilian. I train my body every day with the dawn. I have no abnormal physical ability.”
Her mouth twisted in displeasure. “While I can’t even manage to get my ass to Zumba classes.”
I didn’t understand to what she was speaking of, but she seemed to say it more to herself anyway.
“But you can do magic?”
The woman was a veritable fountain of questions.
“That is a word for it, but it is the power of my will that held the Soul Eater at bay.”
“So I could just will things away if I tried hard enough?” She held her hands up, trying to mimic my earlier movements. I suppressed a smile.
“No. I have been fashioned since birth to be a force of will. I am shaped by belief and with that strong, unerring belief, I can wield great power.”
Her eyes grew round and hungry. “You’re like some kind of mega manifestor, then. I read the Secret once, so sometimes I try to manifest parking spaces.” Her words weren’t making sense to me, once again. “How many people can do it like you?”
My heart became leaden. I was not a person, and her referring to me as such caused pangs to shoot through my heart.
“There are very few,” I said, trying to keep any emotion from touching my face. “Others who are strong in their beliefs can sometimes use certain objects or passages from a sacred text to generate power that is similar to but not as powerful as a Chevalier. Even then, the believer must be strong indeed. It takes tremendous focus and fortitude to expend the necessary energy.”
