Arithem swung his glowing blade across the necks of two demons, severing both their heads with one sweep. Instantly their bodies turned to dark ash and floated away on the breeze, their hideous shrieks fading in the distance.
Tagas crashed his spiked hammer onto the head of a short, squat freak covered in a slimy stench that made even Zarall’s nose curl. Pain sliced his leg. Spinning about, he swung his ax before him. Three demons leapt back, growling.
Onafiel flew above them, holding a bucket. “Move Zarall,” he shouted.
Zarall barely had time to get out of the way before Onafiel poured a river of burning lava on their heads. They melted to the ground in pools of black sludge.
“Thank you.”
Nodding, Onafiel flew off to help Arithem. But the mighty angel quickly dispatched the last depraved spirit, sheathed his blade, and nodded in victory toward his companions.
“These were strong ones,” Zarall said, shoving his ax back in his belt.
“Aye, the beast who summoned them is powerful.” Arithem nodded toward the fallen one disguised as the old man.
Anahel approached, his breath coming hard. “You should be proud, Zarall. Your ward discerned from whence the storm hailed.”
He smiled. “Aye, and she used the authority granted her from the Commander.”
Arithem glanced at Tori. “She has passed this test.”
“Why does the beast wish them not to go to Atlanta?” Tagas stared at his ward, Sara, who was shivering and hugging herself.
“I know not yet, but I sense there are things there which Thomas must see,” Arithem said.
“Oh, my!” Onafiel flew to where the small babe lie in the mud. “Alas, I was so distracted by the fight, I didn’t see…”
“’Tis alright, Onafiel.” Arithem approached. “Fear not. ’Tis part of the Father’s plan.” Folding arms over his chest he glanced at Zarall and then at the daughter of Eve, Tori. “Let us watch and see what she does.”
???
The funnel cloud dissipated. The rain stopped. The wind ceased. Rays of golden sunlight speared through the remaining dark clouds.
With the power of the Holy Spirit still buzzing through her, Tori dashed over to Callie, who lay still on the muddy ground at least five yards from where they all had huddled.
No! No! No, Lord!Her insides screamed, dragging claws of terror over her soul.Not Callie, Lord!
Brianna dropped to the ground beside her baby and gently picked her up. Callie didn’t move. The despondent mother let out a scream so full of horror and sorrow that it leeched all hope from Tori. Desperately searching for wounds, Brianna listened for breathing, even gently shook her baby, all the while every one of her agonizing wails stabbed Tori in the gut.
Thomas and Sara stood at a distance, shock and horror on their faces. Aaron approached, his expression unreadable.
Carla slipped beside her mother and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It will be all right, Mama. Don’t worry.”
Holding Callie tightly to her chest, Brianna leaned over her and released another torturous howl.
And Tori remembered her vision. The tornado had been a spiritual attack. She’d finally sensed that, albeit a little too late. But she’d commanded it to cease in Jesus’ name. And it had. Just like that. Perhaps Callie’s death was also part of the same attack.
Kneeling beside Brianna, she held out her hands. “May I?”
Brianna looked at her curiously, eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her cheeks. She seemed unwilling to release her precious child, toeverrelease her.
“Please,” Tori pleaded.
Brianna reluctantly handed her the child, sobbing.
Tori held the lifeless baby tight and closed her eyes.Lord, is this Your will? Will You grant me Your power?
Yes. The voice was barely audible, but firm, and Tori knew what she had to do.
