Page 79 of Revelations

A sob escaped them both as they ran to embrace each other.

“Thank heavens, you’re okay. I feared the worst!” Thomas exclaimed as he held her at arm’s length to check her over. After confirming for his own eyes that she was indeed all right, he pulled her to his chest again.

After a few moments of just enjoying the fact that they were both alive and relatively undamaged, he asked, “Okay, can you tell me what all this is about, because that jackass didn’t explain anything to me?”

“Not for a lack of you throwing endless questions at him, if I know you,” she laughed.

“Hey, you know me.” He wiggled his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

“Apparently, the big guy has some internal affairs that he needs to straighten out in his organization. He used us to uncover the problem.” Greylyn hoped that her tone came off lighthearted, but deep down, her blood grew icy cold at the image of Olivier torturing Kael for his lack of loyalty.

She knew that she had failed when Thomas squeezed her hand in understanding. “He’s got Kael, doesn’t he? What do you think he’s going to do with him?”

Vehemently, she replied, “I don’t have a clue and I can’t think about that now. We have to get out of here. Kael’s a big boy. He can either rescue himself or Olivier will succeed in correcting his attitude. Even if he’s not outright destroyed, the next time we see him, he’ll be completely Olivier’s creature.”

“You have that right, my dear.” The fallen archangel’s modulated voice announced.

Looking up at him as he took up the entire frame of the gigantic door, Greylyn felt more than fear and anger pierce her heart. Unfathomable contempt festered deep within. At that moment, she knew that she had to defeat him. Not just defeat, but annihilate. Right now was not the moment. She needed to plan, to strategize the best way to overthrow this megalomaniac while preserving those whose lives he held over her head.

What nagged at her heart most was an image of Kael, strung up and bloody as she had been. Olivier would do far worse to him. When she could, she would swear vengeance—for Kael. Right now, her bravado hung by a thread, fear laced through her veins; fear that this was the end of Kael—the Kael she knew, anyway. Any hope of him returning to her died. A part of her would die with him.

Forcing the tears back and the ache in her chest to retreat, she faced Olivier with a sweet smile plastered on her face. “So, I don’t suppose you have a wyvern or other flying creature to return us to South Carolina?”

Chapter 20 – The Icy Road to Nirvana

Well, it was not a wyvern that got them back home. And it did not happen quite so quickly, either. No, Olivier was not feeling quite so hospitable. Instead, he dumped them out into the snow. The only generous thing that he did was to have his minions escort them to the base of the mountain.

Looking up through the raging blizzard, Greylyn recognized where they were—Mount Kailash, the main peak of the Gangdise Mountains and a famous pilgrimage site of Buddhism, almost as legendary as Mount Meru. It was also sacred to over a billion Hindus who considered it to be the home of Lord Shiva, as well as Bonpos and Jainas, who considered it to be the center of the universe.

It was easy to recognize from this distance by its primordial stupa of black rock covered in snow. Buddhists believed that a pilgrimage around the mountain purified a lifetime of bad karma and circling it one hundred and eight times brought about Nirvana.

Too bad it’s a gateway to Hell.

Shivering against the frigid winds and wet snow, the duo trekked to the nearest village at the base of the mountain. Darchen was little more than an outpost with rudimentary lodging in the form of a handful of guesthouses and tents, as well as pilgrim shops for those daring enough to undertake the arduous journey around the mountain. Under normal circumstances, the distance was not that great, but the trek down the mountain pass was rife with the harsh elements of Tibet.

Mount Kailash was six thousand, six hundred, and thirty-eight meters above sea level and it was easily considered to be one of the most challenging treks in the world. Greylyn enjoyed hiking—it was one of her favorite hobbies, if one could say that she had time for a hobby—but even she had never dared to dream of making this particular holy pilgrimage; and now she knew why.

Darchen, at an altitude of nearly four thousand, five hundred, and seventy-five meters, was a mere speck compared to the majesty of Kailash. The desolate plains did little to assuage the harsh, blistering winds. By the time they reached a row of tiny white one-room abodes with boarded up windows, barely more than a blur in the raging blizzard, they were both nearly frostbitten and on the brink of collapse.

Thankfully, Thomas had not shown any symptoms of oxygen deprivation. For all that he hadendured, he was managing himself extraordinarily well for one so new to the action side of fighting the supernatural.

Only a shock of red from the roofs lining the slushy street stood out against the blinding snow. There were not a lot of signs of life in the little makeshift village, despite its proximity to one of the more revered mountain climbing sites in the world.

Greylyn approached the first tiny house with smoke coming out of a small hole in the roof. Luckily, the middle-aged woman who answered the door took pity on them. Her chestnut eyes rounded with concern at the sight of what she must have suspected to be tourists looking to brave Mount Kailash; even though thesetouristslacked anything remotely suitable for such a hike.

Without a word, she ushered them quickly inside where flames from under the makeshift stove gave off more smoke than heat in the stuffy, confined space. However, consideringthe circumstances, Greylyn would have graciously accepted being put into the cooking pot to boil along with whatever savory meal was currently simmering.

After a few awkward attempts to speak and explain their predicament, the sweet woman nodded her head as if she understood and waved them both over to sit by the stove. Before either of them stopped shaking, she had set out two bowls into which she ladled what looked to be Thenthuk, a traditional Tibetan noodle soup enjoyed by nomads to warm them during long winters.

Conversation was sparse, as the woman simply stared at the strangers, particularly at Greylyn. This was not uncommon, as the guardian angel knew that she cast a welcoming aura to others, even on her worst day. The attention did not unnerve her as she sipped on Lhasa beer, a highland barley wine with both sweet and sour tastes and a little alcohol in lieu of the traditional tea offered.

Tibetan was not a language familiar to Thomas, so he kept his head down in his bowl of food. His mostly futile attempts to communicate his appreciation came in the form of gestures—hands together and bowing to the woman in thanks.

Greylyn was a bit rusty with the dialect, but managed to squeak out a half-assed excuse for their sudden appearance in the village, as well as questions about the best and fastest way out of the country. With alittle nourishment and warm toes, she was anxious to get back on track.

The run-in with Olivier had fueled her inner sense of urgency. She had stalled as much as she could, regarding the prophecy. Now the walls were closing in on her.

Nausea suddenly overcame her. It had nothing to do with the savory noodles, nor the beer. No, this was far worse. The hairs at the nape of her neck bristled just as the heavy wooden door banged open. Along with a gust of bitter wind and a flurry of snow, there stood a burly man in full Sherpa gear. He stalked inside. His skin was weathered and wrinkled from continuous exposure to the harsh elements. His beady eyes glared at the woman tending the kettle before turning to the unwelcomed visitors.

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