Tracing Parr

Prologue: To The Unknown

As Mark's Pontiac disappeared into the distance, Bartholomew sighed deeply, a huge weight lifting off his chest. He'd done it. The group was on their way back to Minnesota. He folded his white wings along his back, feeling the chilly morning breeze ripple past him. There was no way of knowing just what was in store once Mark and Anne returned to Minnesota. Bartholomew honestly couldn't say that he knew what Parr was planning at all. Right now though, he didn't need to worry about that. All he had to focus on now was protecting the group as they returned to their home state. There was no doubt that the dark ones would be after them. They, unlike Raymond Parr, knew exactly where Mark and Anne were, and there was no doubt that they wanted them destroyed just as much as Parr did. Apparently, whatever Parr was planning was something that they too wanted to happen: whatever that something was.

Ardor landed beside him, crossing his arms over his chest. "They're on their way," he said softly.

Bartholomew nodded. "Alert Andraste that they'll be coming within the next two days. Take Waldemunt with you to hold down the fort until the rest of us join you."

Ardor nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Most of the rest of us are going to follow the car. I'm going to need two warriors to go to Elijah's house ahead of time though. We don't need any surprise attacks."

Ardor nodded. "Would you like to arrange that?"

Bartholomew nodded. "I can take care of that. You and Waldmunt head to Minnesota to give Andraste the support he needs, all right?"

Ardor nodded a final time and saluted. "Yes, Sir. I will."

"Godspeed, Ardor."

"The same to you, Bartholomew," Ardor replied, unfurling his wings. With a single, mighty flap, he was gone. Bartholomew sighed deeply again, the short-lived relief he'd felt moments ago disappearing. There was no time to waste anymore. He had a team to command, a mission to accomplish, and quite a few people to protect and keep alive. He couldn't linger here too much longer. Turning away from the road that Mark and the others had disappeared on, he lifted off, gliding down into Normand hall to his makeshift office. Ardor and Waldemunt were already gone, but the rest of his warriors snapped to attention the moment he entered the room. He waved his hand and shook his head.

"Relax, all of you. Mark, Anne and the others are so far safely on their way back to Minnesota."

The entire room seemed to let out a deep breath of relief. "What do you want us to do now?" Barak asked.

"I'd like Barak and Alesandro to go to the home of Elijah Akarim," Bartholomew replied. "Protect the home until Mark and the others are long gone. The rest of us will join you tonight. Until then, we'll be protecting the Pontiac that Mark is currently driving. Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded, replying with a thunderous, "Yes Sir!"

"Then let's move quickly!"

No one hesitated to obey. Barak and Alesandro were gone with a flash of white wings. As they disappeared, the rest of the angels stood rigid, awaiting Bartholomew's order. Bartholomew turned his face upward, morphing his wings and taking a deep breath. "El Shaddai," he though silently. "Please be with us." Then he spread his wings, and leapt into the sky, the rest of his warriors following him. There was only one thing he could focus on now, and that was the future. So, come what may, there was no turning back.