Page 119 of Deck of Scarlets

Nurse Amelia came rushing inside with a medical bag, which she began to unzip on the floor in front of Abraham.

“We sent a Saint and Scarlet to come to find you but found your house was empty,” said Father Benedict.

“You did what?” shouted Dean Poverly.

“Why didn’t you just call him instead of almost killing two trainees?” Thatcher snapped.

Abraham coughed, the sound of his chest rattling with effort. “We always send a Scarlet and a Saint; it’s always been done like that.”

Father Benedict, watching Nurse Amelia attend to Abraham’s wounds, started to dab his forehead with a small white cloth. “They told me you left everything behind.”

Abraham squinted at him. “There wasn’t time, not after the vision I had of—” He broke into another coughing fit, blood coating his palm, which prompted Nurse Amelia to take a small vial from her bag and encourage him to drink.

His voice was rough with fear and pain when he said, “Its presence was pure evil. The darkness that followed swallowed me whole.”

“Ulrodak,” breathed Father Benedict.

“I hid my wife and children, concealing us as long as I could before I made the trip to you. Little did I know it was following me. This one is different, Ben. Nothing like the books taught us.” He winced as the nurse dabbed his face with a soaked cotton ball, cleaning the cut across his cheek.

My conversation with Father Benedict before we came to the dining hall filtered back into my mind.

“Father?” I had said. He’d just finished calling the morgue to retrieve Asher’s body.

His eyes darkened, taking a seat on one of the empty beds. “An Ulrodak demon is lethal. Its power does not match the others.”

“Why? Why is this happening?” I cried. All I could think about was the carnage it had left behind, and I wondered if it hadn’t stopped at just Asher. What kind of chaos would we find?

“I don’t know. I thought the prophecy would give us that answer, but it’s just a dead end. This might be the end as we know it.”

The wind escaped from my lungs at the possible inevitability of our future. “What is an Ulrodak demon?”

Father’s eyes gazed upon mine; a look of pure terror sending unwanted chills down my arms. “A fallen angel of death.”

“A fallen angel of—.”

Abraham’s attention flickered over to me, cutting me off. “Yes.” The brush of a hand grazed my arm, and I pulled my attention away to find Josh standing inches from me. My heart fluttered at the sight of his closeness, surprised he’d wandered over to my side.

The other Aces stepped forward, Dean Poverly leading the group. “So, what do you suppose we do?” His question was directed only to Abraham.

The nurse had just wrapped a bandage around his hand when he finally looked into the eyes of the Dean. “We need the Accane Blade.”

Poverly’s face twisted with anxiety. “That weapon hasn’t been seen in decades.”

“Without it, we can’t stop what is to come.”

“Yes, the Ulrodak demon, we know,” Adler repeated.

“No, something far worse than its presence,” breathed Abraham.

“And that is?” asked Thatcher behind Poverly’s shoulder.

“The end of the world.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

The early autumn night chilled my bones as I trekked through a sea of people on 87 th Street. Nobody paid attention to the girl in scarlet, the cape wrapped securely around my frame, the hood covering the dark shadows under my eyes. My dagger was strapped tightly to my hip, hidden from any wandering eyes. Regardless, if they avoided my vacant stare, people tended to observe one’s attire and judge. Fashion in New York City needed to make a statement, and if they noticed anything out of the ordinary, it would show up on a fashion blog the next day.

And that wouldn’t fly with the Order.

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