(Picks up where Surprised by a Plan left off)
The hawk turned on a wingtip and arrowed back to the glove of its master. In its claws, Anasril fought to free herself.
Chero followed the hawk, angling his dive to parallel its trajectory. But the hawk was faster. With its wings pulled in tight, its more aerodynamic body shed altitude like a falling rock. He couldn’t close the distance between them no matter how fast he beat his butterfly wings. They just weren’t built for chasing hawks.
Below, a party of orange robed Seekers faced a lone man holding a baby. Drawn by the commotion in the sky hurtling towards them, everyone looked up. But only the orange-robed fanatics withdrew weapons.
“Run!” Chero shouted at Henneth.
Anasril cried out in victory as the hawk’s grip loosened and she fell in a blue blur. But it was too late, the Seekers had seen them. And those fanatics existed to destroy magic and all those who carried it in their blood and bones.
“Anasril!” he shouted as he changed his trajectory to align with hers.
“I’m alright.” Blue hair streaming behind her, she pulled out of her dive. So had the hawk; it swung around on another attack run. “Behind you!”
Chero glanced over his shoulder and spotted the feathered nuisance on his tail. Damn and the bird could out fly him. Of course, the Watcher of the Moon had abandoned them. So there’d be no divine intervention this time. Bending his track into a sharp incline, he gained altitude and headed for the clouds.
They were piling up too quick for a natural storm. The only storm god he knew had gone off on his own quest thanks to a psychopomp spider. So if it wasn’t Istan pulling the clouds in to cover the sun then who was doing it?
And they just kept rolling in, huge banks of clouds towering up into the stratosphere. Behind them, they dragged a thick blanket of shadow and hope ignited in his breast.
“Do you think it’s enough?” Anasril asked as she joined him.
They cut through the dense clouds easy enough. But the power charging within the condensed water vapor made their hair stand on end. Was it enough to make a difference?
“I don’t know but I hope so. She’s the only one of us who can fight those Seekers.”
But could it darken enough for Undreal to manifest? She was Undeem and couldn’t tolerate the touch of sunlight. Since the Sun God had let them go earlier that morning, she had ridden safe inside Henneth’s shadow.
Chero rolled into his back so he faced the hidden sun. Were the clouds blocking enough of its rays? How could he tell? He wasn’t Undeem; he was Anandarwen and his race had no issues with sunlight.
“For their sake, I hope it is. He can’t fight and run and carry an unhappy baby.”
“And we can’t help him.” Admitting that hurt but it was the truth. Though, he and Anasril had saved Henneth once already. So perhaps he should let this one go, except he couldn’t. He was born for more than this running away. But what could a man who stood twelve inches tall do against such reckless hate?
to be continued…