Eye of the Oracle - By Bryan Davis Page 0,9

his forehead with his sleeve and breathed out a long sigh. “The king chose well to have you two guard me. I had my doubts about the female’s experience, but she has certainly proven me wrong.”

“We are both honored to serve the children of Adam. And you are right about Thigocia.” Makaidos swished his tail toward her. “My father believes she is the most promising young warrior in his kingdom.”

Thigocia closed her eyes and bowed. “Praise the Maker,” she whispered.

The old man sighed again. “Yes . . . promising.” He held out his hand, allowing a thin pool of water to gather in his palm. “Earthly promises are washing away, as are the lives of Adam’s progeny. Life itself fades like withering grass.” He patted Thigocia on her flank. “And warriors must learn other arts . . . at least for a time.”

Thigocia raised her head. “Other arts? What other ”

Makaidos snorted a plume of smoke. “I sense a Watcher close at hand! Guard the Oracle!”

Thigocia wrapped up the old man again, pinning him to her side, and ignited the surrounding grass to create a ring of fire around herself and Makaidos. A mammoth-sized angel with dark red wings appeared out of the thick blanket of clouds and flew to the earth. He stalked around the blazing circle, his radiant robes reflecting the tongues of sizzling fire. “A ring of flames, dragoness?” the angel said. “Not very creative for such a wet, dreary day, but that’s to be expected of a senseless beast like you.”

Makaidos flicked his tail toward Thigocia. “Do not answer him. He is baiting us.”

She growled. “I have fought this demon before. We must be on our guard. He is powerful and crafty.”

The Oracle’s shaggy head pushed through a gap in Thigocia’s wing. “He is drawn to the Ovulum’s power. I can feel his mind connecting with its energy field. There is no use hiding it from him.”

Thigocia reignited a dampening arc in the protective circle. “But how could he have found the Ovulum’s signal among all the decoys?”

“The question is irrelevant,” the Oracle replied. “All our energy must be focused on protecting the Ovulum. Its shield must cover the refuge boat. Nothing else matters.”

Makaidos lowered his voice to a faint rumble. “I will lure him away. I know a ruse he likely has not seen.”

Thigocia whispered back. “Do not try it! Your father wishes that we stay together.”

“He wishes that I protect the Oracle and the shield. That wish trumps all others.” Makaidos unfurled his wings and rose into the air.

“Be careful!” Thigocia shouted. “Other demons might be on the way!”

Makaidos launched his body upward, beating his wings against the stormy breeze. Sharp droplets stung his eyes as he zoomed toward the billowing clouds. Then, gliding just below the dark ceiling, he watched for the demon to give chase, but the cascade of water blurred his view. He could see the meadow and the prophet’s fig tree orchard, but little else. Even Thigocia was just a smudge in the center of her blazing ring.

Makaidos took in a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, pushing a narrow stream of fire into the breeze. Flying awkwardly, like a wounded duck ready to plunge to its death, he allowed the flames to sputter into weak sparks. He glanced down again and caught sight of the Watcher. The demon lifted into the air and glided over the fig trees in a low circle, rising with each arc.

Makaidos laughed to himself. What a fool this demon was to wander into the prophet’s land alone! Was he a scout? A castoff? No matter. That corrupted son of God would soon fry in the abyss.

A heavy mist swirled around Makaidos. He aimed his ruby eyebeams into the fog. Where was the scoundrel now? Had he figured out the ruse and fled?

Two huge creatures in gleaming chain mail suddenly dropped from the clouds, shooting black streaks from their fiery eyes. Makaidos dodged the first volley, but the second splashed against his right flank. He collapsed his wings and plummeted headfirst. He had to get away and warn Thigocia before the darkness spell could take hold.

The burning black resin spread across his scales, climbing toward his face like acidic worms. The field below rushed toward him as a troop of towering demons stalked Thigocia and the prophet. The Ovulum’s scarlet halos pulsed over them like bloody ocean waves.

Makaidos’s sense of danger blared in his mind. He tried to stretch out his weakened wings. Would they be

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