Apocalypse's Horsemen (Devil's Assistant Series - Book 3)

Apocalypse's Horsemen [6]

Chapter 6

The next few days in the northernmost reaches of planet earth were spent in almost complete silence. Every citizen spoke in lowered tones, a hush falling over the bright city. Even the glow that illuminated each street and building was duller somehow. Everyone had loved Phil in this remote place. He had been an unofficial figurehead to many of them even though he had never taken on any actual title or office.

And it truly did sound like him -  all the stories they told.

Despite the betrayal we all still felt from his actions, it was clear that most of what he did throughout his life was not for his own benefit. When he had almost brought about the apocalypse, it was not because of his own selfish desires. He had simply tried to protect his son, make up for his unintentional abandonment by telling him of the strange and wonderful world that existed right alongside the human world. But his love as a father had meant that Phil was blind to the cruelty that had lingered within his own progeny. He could only stand back and watch as chaos bloomed all around him.   

And now, he had paid the price.

For stepping in and saving the world when he was one of the few who had the power to do so he had made a powerful enemy. One who would not cower and hide. An enemy that would never be permanently defeated – could not be defeated lest it upset the balance of the world.

Looking into the ghostly white face surrounded by the equally white hair, I felt my heart give another painful jab. Phil had quite literally been put on ice since his death. His body cleaned and clothed in preparation for his final departure from this world.

It was bizarre to look upon him. He was so still and yet if you did not know the truth, Phil’s body would look nothing more sinister than an elderly man taking an afternoon nap. His gaunt features still remained but the pain that had tightened the corners of his eyes and the strain that brought his lips into a grim line had disappeared. All that was left behind was the absolute peace of death.  

I smiled sadly, stretched out a hand towards his cold and motionless form. However, before I could actually touch his cold skin, I brought it back and clutched my hand to my chest. One lone tear formed at the corner of my eye and dripped down on to my cheek. How sad and lonely his life must have been that it took death to finally give the man what had striven for his entire life.

Phil finally looked content.

I shivered and turned away. It was too strange to be looking at a body, to be alone with a body.  There were no mortal wounds apparent on his corpse just an old man who had died of supernatural causes. Another shudder ran up the length of my spine. It was terrifying that if death should wish it my life would just be extinguished. No wound would even need to be inflicted. If death decreed your life was at an end, not mortal blade or defensive training would protect from that magic.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I reached into the small wooden crate at my feet and pulled out the white tulle. It glittered and glimmered. The women of the sewing house had worked tirelessly the past three days, fashioning the thin netted fabric from the threads of finest silk. It was produced by small magical beings with wings. Apparently they weren’t fairies through.

Shaking out the delicate material, I draped it over Phil as a knock sounded on the door.

I jumped backwards, whirling around just in time to see it swing open. My breath whooshed out between my lips as startling blue eyes met mine.

“Lucius,” I whispered, stepping around the table that held the body so I could wrap myself in his arms.

“It’s time.”