Gideon rolled down the slope of the roof out of control, until Ethan grabbed him. “Thanks,” Gideon said.
The pirate captain appeared at the window. He howled in pain as his men pushed behind him, mashing his broken arm. “Off me, you dogs!”
Ethan and Gideon ran along the shingles until they found an adjacent rooftop. It stood about ten feet lower than the roof of the Weary Traveler with a gap of fifteen feet. “We’ll have to jump for it,” Gideon said.
Ethan was not afraid of heights, by any means, but the jump looked like a one-way ticket to a broken ankle. Gideon took a good run and sailed over the expanse. His loose-fitting, priestly attire billowed around him. He dropped to the neighboring rooftop, allowing his body to collapse at the knees. He rolled out of it and back to his feet.
Ethan didn’t know if he could make it or not. He was quite sure his attempt would not be as graceful as Gideon’s, even if he did make it. The sound of pirates smashing through the window and spilling out onto the roof convinced him.
Ethan backed up, then surged forward into the fastest run he could manage before running out of rooftop. He kicked off with the last step, vaulting through the air. There was nothing now but wind and gravity in the dark. He tried to judge the distance and speed, but didn’t quite manage it. He landed with a bounce, of sorts, shaking every bone in his body from his feet upward. His tuck and roll fumbled into a stagger and crash.
Ethan hit the roof hard with his shoulder and face. Gideon rushed to him and helped Ethan back to his feet. The left side of his face felt numb, yet it burned at the same time. Blood dripped from cuts on his cheek and shoulder.
More pistol fire erupted behind them. Gunpowder flashed in the dark. They heard shots whiz through the air around them, ricocheting off the rooftop as they ran across it trying to find a way down to the street. The deep voice of the pirate captain bellowed behind them, “Bring me their heads!”
OVER THE ROOFTOPS
The demons had taken up the chase by now, but they were not going to get far without natural eyes. The clientele inside the Weary Traveler suited their special needs. The nightly patrons were just the sort of dregs and addicts who made it easy for the demons to move right in, control their weak minds, and inhabit their bodies.
The heavy wooden door burst open, and a motley crew of demon-controlled bar patrons spilled out into the street. This lot would not clamor on the rooftops with bumbling pirates. They took the swifter route through the streets. Now they had natural eyes with which to see Shaddai’s Deliverer.
There was an old woman in her eighties. She had lived a hard life addicted to Pharmakia and could barely walk these days. But under the control of these dark forces, particularly the demon leading the brigade, she was more spry than a ten year old on chocolate.
The next was a man in his fifties. He had served in a previous war, losing an arm for his service. A hooked hand now resided in its place. Hook hand had lost his wife to a bout of plague sweeping through Tilley nearly ten years ago. These days he was a regular patron at the Weary Traveler, mostly because they allowed him to purchase his drink on credit for a few days at a time.
The last was a young man who swept and mopped the inn. He was also responsible for removing the rowdies. Being a man of considerable size, he would bounce them out on their heads into the street whenever the barkeep gave him leave. Being a bit of a street bully growing up, the bouncer enjoyed this part of his job the most.
Three demons had been near the docks when the wounded pirate captain had shown up earlier screaming his head off about his broken arm and the young man who had done it. When the captain’s arm had been set into a splint onboard his ship, by the resident surgeon, the same three demons had been listening.
The pirate captain had sworn his revenge on the young man in the green cloak and the ruddy youth traveling with him. When the captain had organized his men to go back to the Weary Traveler inn, three demons had followed them. They waited to see exactly who the youths were and where they could be found. Now, the pirates had flushed out the prey. Three demons sped down the dark streets of Tilley inhabiting the only three people who had not fled the inn when the pirates had returned.
Five blocks away from the Weary Traveler Inn, Ethan and Gideon paused, attempting to find a safe way down to the streets, or a way to circle back to the stables and their horses. The noisy pursuit of the pirates had faded by now as the boys had nimbly outmaneuvered them several rooftops back. The city sounded alive below them. People made their way to taverns where they could spend what little money they had on drink and frivolity.
“There’s an alley on this side with some crates and hay bales, Gideon. Do you think we could make the drop here?”
Gideon walked over to where Ethan was standing on the edge of the roof. Under the cast of an oil burning street lamp, they saw what appeared to be a delivery yard for a seed and feed business. Bales of hay and stacks of seed bags lay just beneath them. A wagon sat parked on the opposite side. The drop from here was more than twenty feet.
Then Gideon spotted something that might help them. Against the wall, on the opposite side of the alley, lay a tall ladder on its side. Other farm equipment and tools were stacked nearby or hung on the wall by hooks. But there was no way for them to reach the ladder.
“What happened to you exactly when you disappeared back at the camp?” Gideon asked.
“I’m not quite sure. I wasn’t trying to make it happen,” Ethan said. “I suppose I must have entered into the realm of demons or something. The demons could see me. The weird thing was that my appearance changed too.”
“Really, how so?” Gideon asked.
“I was wearing this armor that resembled mercury all over my body. And I was carrying a sword. The blade was as brilliant as the sun to look upon and it hung by my side without any connection to my body. Every time I’ve seen the demons, they’ve been carrying similar weapons.”
Gideon looked back at the ladder and pointed. “Do you suppose you might be able to pass through the spiritual realm and get to that ladder?”
Ethan judged the distance. He could not, the way he was. As for the spiritual, he simply did not know. “I’m still not sure how I entered that state.” Ethan looked hard at the ladder lying there against the wall. If they started back across the rooftops then they might run into the pirates. Surely, they had not given up their search. He knew he had to make this power work for him, somehow. Then, almost as if a switch turned on, Ethan disappeared.
Just as before, the world took on a more vivid state for Ethan. He saw more, heard more, and felt with more clarity than he ever could in his natural state. Once again, he found himself in the quicksilver armor with the brilliant shining sword at his side.
Ethan felt power surging through his spiritual body as though he were a waterwheel fed by a raging river. He saw Gideon smile when Ethan disappeared. He tried to speak to Gideon, but the warrior-priest did not hear him, just as he had suspected.
Ethan ran to the edge of the roof, leaping away without fear. He sailed out over the courtyard much farther than he would have been able to manage naturally. He somersaulted, six flips through the air, coming down on his feet. It was an exhilarating feeling.
Ethan returned to his natural state as he ran toward the ladder. He had been able to turn off this realm shift with a thought. Can it really be that easy to shift from one realm to the other? he wondered.
“That was perfect, Ethan!” Gideon shouted from the rooftop.