How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 43

Temperance could feel the weight of something menacing in the room. She seized control of her emotions, but the quickening of danger threatened deep inside of her. It was unusual for her to feel the stroke of fear, and yet she knew it, it seemed to bear the face of a friend to her. Within her visions she would receive that incoming jolt of something. This was similar to that, except now it bore an undeniable note of wickedness. Evil she indeed had seen, but fear never stood hand and hand with it.

She hoped with all the recent dreams and brief interludes with the angels, meant that her gift was resurfacing. Any inkling of sight was a good sign. It signified her abilities would take root in her again. She pushed at her mind, tried with every grain of her power to reach the home of her sight. Her brows furrowed heavily, driving forward to that field of lucidity. It entered briefly then, a blaze of untamed magic, lingering for long moments.

She smiled and gently breathed in, excitement surging within her chest, and then it departed like an unwanted guest. She squeezed her eyes tightly, her face indicating utter defeat. Immeasurable moments passed and she stood, breathing out heavily in frustration; realizing the weakness of her gift, yet noting that indeed it came to her again.

That in itself was good, she thought. Hope was not forever lost. But alas, because of its unhealthy status, she was not to tap in and reach the place where evil lay. She had just wanted to see, wanted to inquire. Damn it, she wanted answers without going on a scavenger hunt.

When she had thought her ludicrous plan had failed entirely, something was about to make its introduction.

The silence was abruptly known now, so suppressed and hushed that it was discordant. Then instantly, pandemonium materialized, sweeping over the surface of her room, licking and climbing the walls; bearing down like a sworn enemy. Its horrid sound was like that of nails scratching the wood of a coffin in an unmarked grave. It dug in deep, ripping at Temperance, coming at her with a force that questioned life and death, reality and fiction. She put her arms around herself, circling within the ring of candles, fear consuming her.

Sudden, yes...
It arrived with a vigorous power ,far beyond the explainable.

Harrison still stood where Augustus had left him, his eyes wide with utter disbelief. He could not fathom why she would think this would help their cause. His disappointment in mortals only increased tenfold witnessing this. He didn't care if her motives were good. You never shake hands with the enemy.

Augustus made it back in time to see the candles take on new life, evil  generating by the second.

Fear was not present within Augustus, however. The shield was summoned; his arrival, moments away.

"All will be well, Harrison," Augustus reassured, stepping back closer to the wall where Harrison remained.

"Evil is breaching, Augustus," Harrison replied dryly. "Do you not feel it?"

The room was thick and heavy with it , shifting in and out like a rainstorm in the summer when the clouds couldn't make up their mind.

"It can't breach fully because she has faith again," he smiled, his voice soft, yet held much zeal.

"That matters not, right now! She still summoned."

Harrison could feel the closeness of the enemy. He knew all too well the rancid aroma of evil when it tried entering. He had just battled with it last week when Augustus made the error of sending Temperance on that realistic dream.
He could save her then, after all, it was Augustus' error, but this time she would have to ask for help.