Neil, watching all that was happening was unable to comprehend just what in the hell Lisa was doing. This had to be what was so dang important to her and the reason she had been in a hurry when she had left his house. Finish something she had said. When did she start this and what was it?
He didn’t understand any of it. He had not known that she could speak another language for one thing. And he sure couldn’t figure out what kind of crap she was acting out. In the nude at that! The two women looked as though they believed in what they were doing though.
When he had at first noticed the women were unclothed, all he could do was stare at Lisa’s well-defined form glistening with a slick sheen of sweat in the firelight. The longer he observed her actions though, he became mystified.
Neil could see her holding the cup, motioning to the flames, speaking in a dialect he had never heard before. He had watched with the bewilderment of a child as Lisa turned towards the wood, facing them yet not knowing they were there.
Whatever she was doing, whomever she was trying to communicate with had held her full, undivided attention. He probably could have rose straight up from his hiding place and walked right at her, she never would have noticed through her seeming trance.
It was at this second she had begun asking Mother Nature for her blessings. Mother Nature? Was there such a person, an entity? The women obviously believed there was from the way they were carrying on.
He was suddenly aware of the wind picking up in a dramatic fashion. As Lisa continued to speak, the surrounding trees began bending towards her as though bowing to her. It was then that he heard Rick’s sharp intake of breath, having to pull him back down into cover.
THE ARRIVAL
As Lisa finished asking Brother Moon for his assistance, she started to lose her sense of reality. Nothing that went on around her other than the summoning caught her attention. By the time she had conversed with Mother Nature, she had lost herself in the magic. Only she had heard the reply to her request in the wind.
Nothing to her existed in this time and space, she was being torn between the two realms. Devoid of all feelings and thoughts, except for the ecstasy of this dream-like state, it was becoming hard to concentrate.
It was as though an ancient soul had taken control of her mind and body. Each movement she made, each word pronounced in the forgotten Cherokee language of magic, came not from her, but through her.
Turning back to face the fire, Lisa motioned for Becky to step forward and hand her the parchment-like Cedar shavings. These she dropped into the flames reciting each name as it caught ablaze, beginning with Kevin’s and ending with Leonard’s. As they first touched the flames, they burst into multi-colored billows of smoke.
The final parchment piece released was shaved from Locust, not Cedar. On this one was written the name of the Daemon, Chivas. When it began to burn, it did not immediately turn to ash as the others had done, but slowly blackened around the edges. The letters flared up in a glowing white.
At this juncture, Lisa poured what potion remained in the chalice onto the Locust as the edges still darkened. It was also the exact second when one day retires to the next. MIDNIGHT. The Locust erupted in a bright silver flame shooting over eight feet high. A dark gray fog, thicker than ever seen before, enveloped the clearing only to be dispersed by the winds.
The brightness of the moon increase ten-fold, shooting a beam akin to a spotlight on the ceremonial fire. Lisa felt some of her senses returning to her as Becky laid her hand upon her shoulder. The younger woman was pointing to a dark human outline in the center of the inferno.
Becky retreated a few steps as the figure emerged from the blaze, making a downward sweep of it’s hands, vanishing the fire as if it had never existed. The knowledge that she had succeeded entered Lisa’s mind. She approached the large male form, viewing it from head to toe, admiring her handiwork.
Since vanquishing the flames, the Daemon had not moved an inch, nor had he opened his eyes she noticed. She took in the long black hair flowing halfway down his back, large muscular arms and chest combined with powerful looking legs. The figure before her had the stance of a caged animal that had just been freed. He looked as if he were ready to pounce.
“Ancient Daemon of the Cherokee,” Lisa began, “I have summoned you from your prison for a season to perform four tasks for me.”
The Daemon still stood motionless, appearing as if he were not even breathing.
“I believe these tasks will be to your liking, enjoyable for a creature such as yourself,” Lisa continued.
She was slowly walking around him. Inspecting him as if he were some newly acquired personal property.
“When you arose back to this Earth, when I RAISED you back up, I bore in your mind four names. You have their scent and images embedded into your senses. These are your four sacrifices,” She stated.
She reached out a hand to caress his strong chest as she made another circumference of his being expecting some movement on his part. There was none. Stopping in front of him to stare at his face, she continued.
“Punish those men in any fashion that meets your pleasure. When you have completed this, you are to return here. I will meet you to restore you to your slumber. do not touch or harm any other,” Lisa instructed. “Slay only these four that i give you permission.”
Becky’s breath caught in her throat as Chivas finally opened his eyes, taking in his new surroundings. The Daemon’s eyes were an intense, bright silver that glowed with a mesmerizing ferocity. There was no emotion shown on his face as her first stared at Lisa, then Becky.
Haltingly, he turned in each direction seeming to make quick calculations in his mind to gauge his position on the mountain. Realizing where he was, he moved to stare Lisa in the eyes, showing a mixed bag of both respect and loathing.
“I am Chivas, both savior and destroyer of the human race,” he spoke. “I was sent to the Netherworld from this exact place One hundred and ninety-eight years ago.”
“I know this,” Lisa said taking a step backwards.
“It took many warriors, much stronger than you, and wizards of great power to banish me then. There were many deaths,” Chivas spoke on. “Why did you, a puny nothing of a female human, think that you could control me?”
That statement being made, Chivas stretched to his full height of six-foot-six, extending his arms out and down to his sides. Shaking out his mane of hair, he stiffened, spreading his fingers apart from which sprouted razor-sharp claws. Bringing them around, he struck Lisa in both face and chest at the same time.
The blow knocked her fifteen-feet backwards against a fallen tree. It was all she could do to maintain consciousness. With blurred vision she saw the Daemon approaching. He towered over her.
“You never had a chance at controlling me,” he said. “This was doomed for you from the beginning. The Death Spirits prepared the way for me. Not the likes of you.”
Lisa’s first thought went to the old witch Keeler. “He tricked me.”
“The summoning spell given you was laced with a chaos enchantment,” Chivas informed her. “With gratitude for unleashing me from my prison, I will let you live. If only to witness what you have brought into this world.”
Half, Lisa saw movement emerging from the treeline. It appeared as if someone were running towards them. That could not be. Believing herself to be dreaming, she had the vague recognition that Rick Harris was coming into the picture.
“Please no,” were the only words to pass her lips as she lost all consciousness. She was out cold.
