CHAPTER 1

The well-manicured fingers curled into a fist and slammed onto the stone table hard enough to rattle the glasses filled with a pale-blond liquid. It also served to focus the attention of the sixteen who sat around the table.

"You let him slip through your fingers like dust." Caustin uncurled his fingers and then clenched them together again as if kneading the hilt of the sword that hung on his hip. "If it were my choice, you would already be flayed and hanging above the pit."

Caustin pulled rapid breaths in and out as his gaze lasered in on Zennon.

"Calm." Caustin's master, who sat to the right, stretched out his fingers on the cool stone, but that was his only movement. "We will hear a response from the accused before you speak again."

"He is incorrect, my lord." Zennon gave a slight bow of his head, looked up again, shifted his gaze to Caustin, and refused to drop his stare even though the eyes of his superior held death in them. Give in to intimidation? Never.

"I'm wrong?" Caustin leaned forward and his body quivered as if he was about to lunge across the round table and attack. "You have failed to destroy the Warriors Riding. Am I incorrect about that fact?"

"Yes. You are badly mistaken." Zennon bowed and kept his head down longer this time. Play the game. Give the false respect this imbecile requires. Bide the time because it won't last forever.

In truth, the time to strike was almost here. If one more member of the council would turn, the moment would be seized and Caustin's head would be separated from his body for eternity. Then Zennon would stand next to the Master in his place. "He is a fool, my lord."

Caustin flicked his finger to the right and then the left. Instantly Zennon was yanked from his chair and his arms were pulled tight across his back. The soldiers in Zennon's command who sat to his right and left didn't move to help. He didn't expect them to.

Caustin pulled back slightly but still rested most of his weight on his knuckles, pressed hard on the stone table. "normally I would slice your throat open for your expression of insubordination, but since the Master is willing to hear an explanation for your failure, I will allow you to speak."

They released Zennon and he returned to his chair. For that insult alone he would kill Caustin. Zennon seethed with rage, but he couldn't allow it to be seen. Not in front of the other warlords. Control was power. The slaying would come later. In private. Where he could savor Caustin's cries for mercy and watch him die slowly and in excruciating pain.

The Master still didn't move. "Review his actions." As the three words leached from his dark maw, they seemed to soak up the light in the room.

Caustin pointed at Zennon with a thin finger. "He was given dominion over Reece Roth, Dana Raine, Brandon Scott, and Marcus Amber. His assignment was simple. Take them out. Destroy their mission. Instead, they have thrived and continue to grow in influence around the globe. Yes, he destroyed Reece's eyes, but he now sees again, with a sight far more powerful than what he had before. Yes, he took out Brandon Scott's singing voice, but it is a minor victory."

Caustin pulled back from the table and paced behind the Master and the four warlords to his right and left. "Under his watch, the angel Tristan Barrow formed an alliance with the Warriors. Zennon knew Barrow before the leaving—he knew Barrow's power and what he was capable of—and yet Zennon was not able to take the precautions to stop it."

Zennon ground his teeth and forced restraint on himself.

"He infiltrated the life of Marcus Amber as a high school student but was discovered before any real damage was done. Then he tried to lure Marcus into an alternate reality and again was unsuccessful."

Caustin's voice rose. "Then a legion of underlings was obliterated when he tried to destroy Reece, Dana, and Brandon. The Wolf was destroyed instead. The talk-show host Carson Tanner has turned back to the narrow path and now is broadcasting a new message across the American continent. Poison seeping into ears of millions of followers of the Nazarene."

Caustin once again pointed at Zennon. "Finally, he allowed the magician to escape, which could decimate a crushing amount of what we have accomplished over the past hundred years if he remembers who he truly is."

The Master turned his malevolent gaze to Zennon. He blinked but refused to drop his eyes. "That Simon the magician no longer resides in the alternate realities is true, Master," Zennon said.

Caustin strode back to the table and slammed his fist down again. "I call for destruction of the accused."

Zennon shifted back in his chair, pulled his gold coin out of his pocket, and spun it on the table. The light from the candles seemed to soak into its surface, making it thicker, and the sound of the coin rang off the table with greater volume. "You see only inches into the lake, Caustin, while I see with great depth. This war is far from over."

Spittle formed in the corners of Caustin's mouth as he leaned forward. "Far from over? Again and again you have—"

"Enough, Caustin." Their Master's voice rumbled through the small council room. "You have spoken." He turned to Zennon and nodded.

"Fellow warriors." Zennon met the gaze of every council member at the table, then pointed to Caustin. "You've heard the words of this fool. You've feasted on his accusations—I see it in your eyes. You salivate for my demise. But it will not come. I have not lost. These minor setbacks will only serve to pave the road of my ultimate victory."

For the first time, a shard of doubt passed over Caustin's face and hesitation wavered in his voice. "What do you feel you've—?"

"Feel! This is not about feelings, is it? It's about facts." Zennon raised his fist and slammed it onto the table in the exact manner Caustin had at the start of the council. Again the glasses rattled, but this time the one in front of Caustin tipped over and spilled its yellow liquid over the edge of the table.

"See?" Zennon smiled. "I can be as childish as you."

The demon didn't move as the liquid spilled onto his lap. "I will kill you."

Zennon's show of defiance riveted every eye in the room on him. Now to finish strong. "The Warriors Riding have attained certain victories, but when is an enemy most vulnerable? When they are tipping back the elixir of conquest and are drunk on the wine of their inflated belief in the loss their opponent has suffered. While they have been focusing on the chess piece right in front of them, I have been planning my moves far into the future."

Zennon turned and spoke to the Master. "I caused Simon the magician to leave the alternate reality. And now, because of what he did for Marcus Amber and the other Warriors, they will fully inculcate him into their inner circle. They will trust him. Embrace him." Zennon flipped the coin into the air, let it land on his palm, and slid it back into his front pocket. "I foresee him being invited to Well Spring where he will change everything in my favor."

"Explain." The Master's voice grew louder, and Zennon knew he must not waste words.

"As I just said, the magician did not escape. I let him go. And while the first phase of my plan with him and the Warriors was thwarted and certain casualties occurred, the second phase is now in place, which will bring about a triumphant conclusion to this war."

Zennon stood and leaned forward on the table, his palms spread wide. "If we are to achieve a resounding victory, it is not enough to destroy Reece and the other members of his band. Their message has spread too far. Killing him would only serve to make him a martyr and rally the millions around the world who look to him for sustenance. They follow Reece. He is their guide. They listen to him. Hundreds of thousands now drink from his stream."

"Continue," the Master said.

"We must change Reece Roth at his core. Blind him spiritually. Help him forget his identity as I did to the magician. Cause what resides inside Simon to spread to all of the Warriors and beyond them."

"Simon has been infiltrated." The faintest hint of a smile appeared in the Master's eyes.

"Yes. He carries the warfare inside. But he has no idea. No one does." Zennon bowed, smiled, and once more forced himself to hold his Master's gaze. "But Reece and his fellow Warriors are about to feel its effects when it is unleashed on them."

The Master ground his knuckles into the table. "And that will happen?"

"Very soon."

CHAPTER 2

"When were you given this?" Reece sat in his upstairs den on Thursday and gripped the armrest of the chair he sat in. So much for any kind of reprieve for the Warriors after the battle against the religious spirit seven days back. He took another drink of his late-morning tea. It was lukewarm but he didn't care.

"I received it yesterday afternoon," Doug Lundeen said.

"Interesting that it was sent to you just days before our first gathering after getting back from Well Spring."

"I agree. It is the Spirit's leading."

"If the words are true."

Doug didn't respond.

Reece shifted in his leather chair and breathed the mid-July air coming in through the open window that overlooked his lush Pacific northwest backyard. "What if they're not ready to hear this?"

"I don't believe we have a choice."

"They've just been through an emotional Ironman triathlon." Reece rubbed the scar tissue where his eyes used to be with his thumb and forefinger.

"You've been through an emotional one as well, and my deep wish is that there was time to refresh and rest, but apparently there isn't."

"Read it again." Reece needed to hear it once more. Let the words soak in. Try to figure out what exactly each part of this new prophecy meant and how it would impact the Warriors Riding.

The rustle of paper filled Reece's ears and Doug cleared his throat.

When it is time, you will join them,

The four; the Temple, the Leader, the Teacher, and the Song,

They will need your strength for their last battle together,

For their great enemy is mounting a final strike against them and will hold nothing back,

And you will step boldly before the Temple and he will receive you,

And you must take the Leader into the gateway of death,

And in the gateway one will remain, which will bring sorrow but set in motion that which must be,

And you will embrace the Teacher for he is the friend of the restorer,

And one you will train when they ask it of you—and only that one will you train,

You are a warrior of warriors, live in the truth of who you are,

And ride with the wind.

It made little more sense than the first two times Doug had read this new prophecy. Someone else join the Warriors? Why? When? For what purpose? "Who is the one the prophecy was given to?"

Doug sighed. "I already told you, they requested I not say."

"This is me, old friend."

A second later Doug patted Reece on the back. "Yes, yes, and you know I would tell you if I could. But this person was told by the one who gave the prophecy not to reveal any identities. It wasn't an option."

"You trust this person, the one the prophecy was spoken over?"

"As much as I trust you, Reece."

A small list of names raced through Reece's mind. Doug's closest allies. The ones he'd told Reece about and the ones Reece had met. But none of those men made sense to his mind or his heart. But since when did God's thinking mesh completely with man's?

"And you believe the prophecy is true," Reece said.

"Reportedly this person has sought wisdom and revelation from the Spirit as to the truth of these words for the past year, and they told me they are true. And I believe them."

Reece blew out a slow breath. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out the prophecy is talking about Zennon attacking us."

"Of course."

"The Leader in the gateway." Reece gripped the arm of his chair harder. "I will not allow Dana to die."

"No. We will not."

"And who is this 'restorer'? Brandon?"

"That is not clear, is it?" Doug sighed. "What do you see as our next steps?"

"We send out an e-mail to the Warriors about tomorrow night. Tell them we have an announcement, to be praying about it, and leave it at that."

"Agreed."

Reece let his head ease down till it rested on the back of the chair. They weren't ready to hear about another battle, let alone engage in one where Zennon came after them with everything left in his arsenal. What they were ready for—what they'd most certainly earned—was rest. Refreshment from each other's company. But it seemed a dead-end sign had been placed at the end of that road, and the one the Spirit was taking them down instead was peppered with land mines.

CHAPTER 3

"Any guess as to what the announcement is Reece and Doug have in store for us?" Dana brushed back her light-brown hair and looked at Marcus as she took a sip of her iced tea. They sat in overstuffed chairs in the great room of Reece's log cabin-style home on the outskirts of Seattle. She loved his home almost as much as she loved Reece's private ranch in Colorado: Well Spring.

Marcus sat straighter and pushed up his glasses. "My fervent hope is he announces that our battles together for the kingdom have reached their conclusion. That it's time to retire Warriors Riding, he has commenced construction on a private luxury compound on the north side of Fiji with all the money he acquired selling his photo graphy business, and he's sending Kat and Abbie and Jayla and me there to live in paradise for the rest of our lives."

Dana crossed her legs and smiled at the professor's humor. "I think there's a greater chance that a wormhole will open up in Reece's kitchen over there and we'll all take a trip to the far side of the universe."

"All things are possible with a Creator such as ours, and there is a substantial amount of evidence that wormholes could be around every corner." Doug ambled into the living room from the kitchen. He carried a glass of ice water in one hand and a notepad in the other.

"You have to know what he's going to tell us, Doug," Dana said.

"Yes, I do." Doug settled into the leather couch across from Marcus and her.

Marcus pointed at Doug's notepad. "Would you like to give us a preview before Reece comes down and Brandon arrives?"

"Yes, I would." Doug smiled. "But I'm not going to. You all need to hear this at the same time."

"Okay." Dana clapped her hands together. "Then at least answer a question I've been dying to know the answer to ever since Reece first trained us."

Doug cocked his head.

"Reece trained the Warriors. You trained Reece. Who trained you?"

"Did you know Reece has asked me the same question a number of times?" Doug rubbed his knuckles. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, just as I have never told Reece. Not yet anyway. But things have transpired recently that make me think I will soon be able to. That a long missing piece of the puzzle will finally be restored to its rightful place. And when it is, I will be released to tell the story of the man who discipled me in ways he cannot imagine."

Dana studied Marcus's face. He looked tired, older than last time she'd seen him, and why wouldn't he? He was probably thinking the same thing about her. Their recent battle against the religious spirit had been triumphant, but also exhausting. Probably one reason Reece hadn't gathered the five of them together till now. She appreciated the break. It gave her the chance to get caught up on her work down at the radio station as well as take a few evenings around Puget Sound to exercise her love of photography.

At the same time, she'd missed being with the other Warriors the past eight days. And she wanted to see Brandon. She was worried about him. He'd gone hermit on them since they got back from Well Spring. No contributions to the group e-mail they were all part of. No every-other-day witty text messages to the group either.

Now they were together again as planned, but an ominous tone had been cast over the gathering because of Reece's cryptic e-mail: When we meet, Doug and I must speak to you about what is coming next for us. It won't be easy to hear, but the Lord is our shield, always.

"In some ways it seems like years since we were at Well Spring together. In others it feels like we were there yesterday," Dana said.

"Time tends to accelerate as we grow older." Marcus drew a small circle in the air with his silver mechanical pencil.

"Do you mean time accelerates literally or figuratively?" Doug patted his slightly oversized stomach and gazed at Marcus.

"My reference was to the physiological sensation of time increasing its velocity as we accumulate more years."

"I love you, Marcus." Dana laughed. "Since Brandon isn't here to translate, allow me the honor. Do you mean we feel like time goes faster as we age?"

Marcus brushed back his thinning brown hair and smiled. "Certainly that would be one alternative way to my thought."

"I can relate, Dana." Doug sipped his ice water. "Since I'm pushing seventy-three now, days seem to fly by like months instead. By the time I reach 173 years of age, the days will seem like seconds."

"You're going to live that long?" Dana smiled at his sense of humor.

"Why not? People used to live far longer. Or maybe I won't die and will simply be carried to heaven as Enoch was."

"There is always the possibility you are Enoch." Marcus pushed up his glasses again.

"Yes, I suppose that is possible. But in this case not true." Doug leaned to the side and tapped Marcus on his kneecap. "Sometime we should chat about the literal acceleration of time. And its literal deceleration." Doug winked. "It's almost time for that lesson, I believe. So many more lessons to teach all of you before my time on earth is finished. Even many lessons for Reece."