Page 16 of Sanctuary

Wayne leaned to the priest and pointed at Roman. “Look, Farhang. Evil!”

Awareness sparked in Farhang’s eyes. A sluice gate had opened, and the chaotic maelstrom of his power had found a target.

Shit.

Roman planted his staff onto the porch.

Light exploded from Farhang, rolling like a blast wave, shaking the snow off the trees. It smashed into the staff and broke on its shaft, rattling Klyuv in Roman’s fingers. The house shook behind him. Inside Roro howled with an unearthly voice.

Farhang turned his hands downward and spun them.

What are you?

A loud, triumphant chant spilled from the priest’s lips. Unfamiliar words, a foreign language, channeling power. The snow swirled around him, mixing with golden light.

Finn stepped outside.

“Get back,” Roman told him.

“No.”

The light coalesced into rings that slid up and down around Farhang with an electric strumming sound. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. He was like a volcano about to blow.

The kid raised his head and took a deliberate step closer to Roman.

“What are you doing?” Roman growled.

“Being a human shield.”

“Do what now?”

“They won’t hit you if I stand close.” Finn edged a little closer.

Farhang clapped his hands. “…Ahura…!”

Oh, fuck it all.

Roman grabbed Finn and yanked him to the floor of the porch.

Missiles of golden fire erupted out of Farhang and streaked toward the house.

The bone hands burst from the ground, clamping together into a shield. The golden fireballs hammered into them. The skeletal shield shook under the barrage, sizzling from the impact.

Inside the house Roro yowled like a demon.

Of all the denominations, it had to be that one. What did those svolochi do to him? Had to be something really potent. A restricting amulet would’ve emitted its own magic, but Farhang was putting out so much power it was hard to sense anything in that blinding light.

“What the hell is he?” Finn squeezed out.

“Get into the house!”

“I will shield you! They want me alive!”

“He didn’t get that memo, kid. Inside. Now!”

Slivers of bone peppered the floorboards as the light struck chunks from the bone fingers. Finn scrambled into the house on all fours, landed just inside the doorway, and stayed there.

The mercenaries advanced in a ragged line. He could see them through the gaps in the damaged fingers, eight figures carefully moving in, Wayne in the middle, in the second line. The two shooters remained in their spots on the flanks, waiting for the right moment to put a bolt in his chest.

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