Piercing the Darkness by Frank Peretti Read Free Book Online

escaped from our fist, a worse threat to us now than ever she was!”
    A prince stepped forward and bowed. “Will my lord consider aborting the Plan?”
    The Strongman straightened, and his fists thundered down on the hearthstones. “NO!”
    The prince stepped back into the ranks under the condemning stares of his fellows.
    “No,” growled the Strongman, “not this Plan. Too much is at stake, too much has already been established and prepared. There is too much to be gained to let one little woman, one little pitiful soul, ruin it all!”
    The loathsome spirit tried to relax, leaning his head back and letting his amber tongue roll across his lips.
    “The town was so perfect,” he mused. “The saints of God so few, so penniless . . . and our people, oh, so strong, so numerous, so . . . so pioneering! We worked so hard to establish the foothold we have in that town. Ah . . . who knows how long it took . . . ?”
    “Twenty-three years, Ba-al,” said a well-meaning aide.
    The Strongman glared at him. “Thank you. I know.”
    The aide bowed and retreated.
    The Strongman continued his mental review. “And the petty little saints in the town were . . . obscure, don’t you see, far from help, far from the mainstream, alone amid the rolling farmlands . . . unknown. It was a perfect place to begin the process.” His beastly face grew tight and bitter. “Until they started praying. Until they ceased being so comfortable and started weeping before God! Until they began to reclaim the power of the . . .” The Strongman sealed his lips.
    “The Cross?” the aide volunteered.
    “YAAAAA!!” The Strongman’s sword sizzled through the air and missed the aide by inches. No matter. Several princes grabbed this foulmouthed vassal and ousted him.
    The Strongman settled onto the hearth with a thud. “Destroyer!”
    The princes looked toward the other end of the room. A mutter moved through their ranks. Some stepped back.
    A shadow stepped forward, a silhouette. It was tall, shrouded in billowing wings. It moved so smoothly, so silently, that it seemed to float. The other demons dared not touch it. Some bowed slightly.
    It moved across the room and then stood before the Strongman, its head lowered in obeisance. It remained absolutely still.
    The Strongman studied this dark, silent shape for a moment. “You have been noticeably silent during these discussions.”
    The thing raised its head and looked at its lord with narrow, calculating eyes. The face was not entirely hideous; it was almost human. But it was evil; it was cold and filled with hate.
    “Speak, my Ba-al,” he said, “and I will answer.”
    The Strongman’s eyes narrowed. “Your minions failed, Destroyer. She is alive and free. What do you say to that?”
    Destroyer’s face was rock-hard, his spine straight. “Is she still mine?”
    There was a strange, cutting tone in the Strongman’s voice. “Do you still deserve her, Destroyer?”
    Destroyer didn’t seem to appreciate the question.
    The Strongman spoke clearly, threateningly. “I want you to remove her, so that she will never reappear again.” There was a slight tinge of doubt in the Strongman’s voice as he asked, “ Can you do that?”
    The thing didn’t move for a moment.
    SLASH! Red flash! A sizzling sword cut through the air and divided space into burning segments. Black wings filled the room like smoke and rolled like thunder. The princes fell back against the walls; the Strongman actually flinched.
    The thing stood there motionless again, the eyes burning with anger, the black wings slowly settling, the glowing red sword steady in his hand.
    His low, sinister voice was seething with resentment. “Give me some real warriors, not Terga and his bungling, whining little imps of Bacon’s Corner! Turn over your best to my command and let them empower Broken Birch, and you will see what your servant can do!”
    The Strongman studied Destroyer’s face and without the slightest smile asked, “What