Regal magnificence fixed its fierce eyes upon her, drew her inside them. Despite the waves of pained dizziness that lapped on the shores of her brain, Mariana could not look away. When it spoke, the sound was like unto that of breezes rustling leaves or the cut of the wind upon the swells of the ocean—soothing, yet still commanding all at once.

His appearance, I must know it. She wasn’t sure if the creature spoke solely to her inside her mind or if Ja’gan, too, could hear.

Almost immediately, the image of Max dead on the altar rose unbidden in her thoughts, every detail still disturbingly stark in her memory. Upon realizing what she was thinking, the vampire angel shook her head violently, dispelling the image and replacing it with a less morbid one. She didn’t know that he was in any danger at all, and she needed to banish this persistent pessimism.

Hræsvelg leaned his head to the side briefly. He had seen the first thing that had appeared in Mariana’s head, and he brushed a gentle stream of wind against her cheek, offering a small comfort. Then, he released her eyes from his hold on them and turned his back on both Mariana and Ja’gan, folding his great wings against his body in deep concentration. Slowly, thin wisps of wind—visible wind—seeped from his body and floated, lazily at first, off in every direction. As the seconds ticked by, the minute wisps turned into strong gusts, racing off as though they were sentient beings in themselves.

Mariana watched the streams disappear into the horizon and then glanced over at Ja’gan, who gave her a look that said, “Just wait.” In barely two beats of the vampire angel’s heart, Ja’gan’s words of advice proved trustworthy, for the ribbons of green came streaking back into view. They swirled around the wind guardian, and he tilted his head to the side as though listening intently. After several moments of eager anticipation, Mariana couldn’t help herself any longer and broke the silence.

“You…you know where he is, don’t you?”

__________________


Lovely sig and avy by insaney
"Our secret affinities remain secret even to ourselves....We fall in love with certain works of art, as we fall in love with certain individuals, for no very clear motive."
~Joyce Carol Oates