Father Desmond Porter's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

Elina stood in the dirt with her wings spread wide and the colored glass throwing shapes across the ground. Desmond stepped out behind her with his spear in one hand. The east was empty for a breath. Then he saw them. Six shapes coming fast over the ridge, low to the ground, purple armor catching the sun. More than he had ever counted in one place. He set his back against the chapel wall and gripped the shaft tighter. "Stay by the door," Elina said. She did not look at him. She bent her knees and pushed off the dirt. The wings snapped open and she was up, ten feet, twenty, the shards throwing hard color across the chapel roof. The Vael broke pace when they saw her. Their heads tipped back. One raised a weapon and she dropped on him before he could fire. The sharp edge of her left wing came down through his shoulder and out below his ribs. He fell in two pieces. The others scattered. That was the mistake. Elina turned in the air and drove them apart with hard, low passes, forcing them toward the chapel wall. Desmond saw one break from the group and cut for the corner of the building. He stepped from the door and set the spear low. The scout came around the boards fast and ran onto the point below the throat. Desmond drove his weight forward until the shaft stopped against bone. He worked the head free and let the body drop. His hands were shaking. He backed against the wall again. Elina killed two more in the open. She hit them from behind, wings tucked, then flared at the last second so the edges caught. A fifth tried to run. She overtook him in three beats and came down on his back. The last one turned toward Desmond with a shard raised. Desmond met him with the spear point up. The scout swung wild and Desmond took the shard across his forearm. He drove the spear into the scout's belly and pushed him down into the dirt. Elina landed beside him. She put her boot on the scout's chest and finished it with the edge of her wing. The yard went quiet. Six bodies in the dirt. Desmond's arm was open from wrist to elbow, bleeding into his sleeve. He sat down against the chapel wall. Elina folded her wings against her back and knelt in front of him. She looked at the cut, then east again. "More will come," she said. "They heard the panel. They know where we are." Desmond pressed his hand against the wound. The chapel was not a hiding place anymore. It was a mark on their map.