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   Chapter 146 No.146

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5506

Updated: 2018-01-20 12:02


Something, moving fast, came bursting out of the distant doorway toward them. It was the pedestal, book and pen perched firmly on top. When the pedestal was beside her, Azriel resumed her proper form. She took up the pen. Myranda drew all of the heat she could from the branches. They stiffened, crackling and flaking as the cold rendered them fragile. The desperate girl lashed out against the embrittled wood. The limbs gave way far more suddenly and fully than she had expected. Every last branch and much of the trunk collapsed into large, icy chunks.

Myranda landed amid the rubble and scrambled to her feet. The bulk of the pieces had dropped atop Azriel herself, as well as the pedestal. There was a powerful aura emanating from beneath the pile. If the fury of one was ever strong enough to be felt by another, then this surely was it. Myranda sprinted away, terrified of what may happen next. After a few moments, Azriel exploded from beneath the pile. The sky turned blood-red, glowing with a light that permeated all beneath it.

"No one--no one--attacks me. You little witch. This is no longer just a game, " her voice thundered as she floated high above the tree tops.

With a thrust of her hand the trees were spread with such force that some were torn from their roots. Myranda was knocked to the ground by the force of the energy. The ground beneath her began to rumble. A vast rift split the ground, large enough to swallow trees whole. Myranda clung to the edge, but was suddenly wrenched into the air. She fought hard against the force that held her, but it had a grip on her that she could not break. The ground below her beg

to form again around them. A moment later, while she was still dazed from the sudden and complete change, Myranda's friends reappeared. Deacon rushed to her, having seen all that had happened. Myn scampered over, happy to see Myranda again, but stopped suddenly to survey her friend.

Myranda looked ragged and worn out. She was drenched with sweat. Vast patches of her clothes were scorched. Myn glanced first at Deacon, then at Azriel, eager to find someone to blame. The decision did not take long, as she gave Deacon a quick series of lashes with her tail as punishment.

"Ouch. I was beside you the entire time! I couldn't have done this, " he said, reaching down to help Myranda up.

"She should be very proud of herself. It was a tremendous showing. I dare say she figured a spell or two out for herself while she was being tested. The mark of potential to be sure, " Azriel remarked, once again fully composed and matriarchal. She was busy arranging the red and white books again, a look of mild confusion on her face. She was having trouble fitting them on the appropriate shelves.

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