Death of an Adept

A breath of sulphurous wind from the west was the first harbinger of Soulis' impending return. Trembling in body and spirit, acutely aware of the immortal danger in which he willingly placed himself, Adam offered himself for Soulis' enticement, faithfully reproducing his utter vulnerability before that other assault, when Soulis had probed so deeply into his soul. Far on the distant horizon to the west appeared a looming mass of dense black cloud, charged with venomous flickers of lightning.

Closer to the storm, a menacing rumble of thunder reverberated on the physical plane as well as the astral. The rumble was loud enough to penetrate the roar of the Lynx's powerful rotors as it streaked westward in hot pursuit of a fleeing smaller helicopter. Eyes intent on the quarry, Harry Nimmo noted the approaching storm beyond, but could see nothing else amiss.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered through set teeth.

Sitting next to him in the co-pilot's seat, hurriedly scanning their instrument displays, Kinsey shook his head.

"Nothing mechanical," he reported. "Must be the weather up ahead. Everything reads normal."

"I'm not sure that's weather," Harry muttered under his breath, as he bore down harder on the throttle.

Out in front, dipping in and out of the searchlight spear of the pursuing Lynx, the fleeing target skimmed dangerously close to the trees below, jinking left, then right, then left again as its pilot tried to shake off pursuit. Undaunted, Harry kept the Lynx close-handled and steadily narrowed the gap between himself and his airborne adversary.

"Another minute, and we've got 'em," he said aside to Kinsey. "I'd really like to shoot 'em down, but I suppose that would create a lot of bad press for Noel."

"Not to mention what the general would say."

"Guess we'd better force 'em down, then."

Even as he spoke, another boom of thunder spoke, heavy enough to rattle the Lynx's armored bulkheads. Biting off an oath, Harry made a rapid-fire adjustment to their trim and, in that instant of diversion, heard Kinsey utter an explosive profanity. As he glanced up in alarm, it was to see a black wall of cloud rising up before both aircraft.

The cloud bank was heading their way with the speed of a tidal wave. Banking sharply, the chopper in front made a vain attempt to outflank it, only to be overtaken and engulfed. An instant later, the cloud was illuminated from within by a stark blaze of lightning. Harry caught a fleeting afterimage of the other craft suspended in a corona of flame just before its fuel tank caught fire and exploded.

The thundercloud rolled on, raining burning debris from its underside, the Lynx squarely in its path.

"Jesus, Harry! Get us the hell out of here!" Kinsey shouted.

Harry was already taking measures. As the storm cloud levelled out over the treetops, he punched the throttle into overdrive and sent the chopper clawing for altitude. The engines stuttered, and for one awful moment he thought they were going to be overwhelmed.

Then the rotors caught an updraft and lifted them clear with only yards to spare as the uncanny cloud mass surged past beneath them.

Back at the ruined chapel, well aware of Soulis' approach on two levels, Adam briefly opened his eyes for a last scan on the physical before battle was joined. He was aware of Peregrine supporting him, of McLeod at his left side, of Donald Cochrane now crouching down by his feet, head bowed over the Masonic ring he always wore. Behind Donald, Ian Duart and two of his troopers were hunkered down with heads bowed over their MP5's - further reinforcements for the Masonic support Adam had already noted on the astral. At his left, Ximena had turned to assist the SAS medic in lolo's treatment, and was stretching to hang another IV between the two she had already started for Adam.

Commending them all to the protection of the Light, he let his eyelids close, again focused wholly on the astral as he braced himself for Soulis, bait for the trap, still offering no resistance. It was no easy thing to stand thus, as the wind of Soulis' approach was suddenly upon them.

But though a suffocating darkness accompanied the psychic gale that heralded Soulis' descent, sufficient Huntsmen rose up to just deflect it - a calculated defense to begin diminishing Soulis' power before he realized he was being drawn into a trap. The assault was still sufficient to buffet Adam to his very core; and the answering surge of Soulis' dark anger very nearly reached him before McLeod and then Philippa diverted it.

But he dared do nothing in his own defense, lest Soulis take alarm and draw back, or even escape. Adam must keep the lure of his soul dangling before Soulis, enticing him to squander his energies until it was too late to break away.