A Temporal Trust (The Temporal Book 2) Read Free Page B

on Sam’s sagging shoulder and with a healthy slap to Sam’s back, he said, “Well, come, Sam, let us return before Ian begins the interrogation without a referee.”
    “Before we do, Marcus, there is something I don’t understand. The Nephloc that I experienced in Japan and the Nephloc that attacked us here today were huge, strong, menacing, and every bit as scary as the monster from under my childhood bed. And yet, the creatures in there are now small and weak, pathetic even.”
    “The Nephloc feed on fear, Sam. Without fear, they have no power. When confronted by a superior force or a fearless enemy—no matter how much the odds tilt in their favor—they revert to their natural state.”
    Sam shook his head. The change had been dramatic and instantaneous.
    Marcus continued, “You must remember that evil is empty. It is an eternal emptiness even if it may wield real and overwhelming temporal power. This spiritual emptiness always seeks to be filled, but even when evil gives the impression of being fulfilling, the light of truth reveals the utter emptiness.” Marcus turned on his heels.
    “Wait, you knew they would do this. You knew they were weak. Why didn’t you tell us?”
    Marcus, still facing away from Sam, paused and said, “Builds character.” He then continued to the others.
    “Thanks,” said Sam to an empty audience. “I’m sure you’ll look back at this one day and laugh.”
    Sam entered to see Ian parading in front of the still cowering Nephloc, laughing and mocking.
    Marcus was immediately in front of Ian, walling him off from the Nephloc prisoners. Sam and Suteko took position to either of Marcus’ sides not quite sure whom they would have to restrain. Marcus shook his head and then turned to face the prisoners.
    The three creatures were huddling together in a corner making noises that could not be construed as meaningful language. Between grunts, they let out more wheezing than breathing. They seemed ignorant of the brewing anger in the room.
    Then, quite suddenly, Sam heard whispers among the three as if they were carrying on a conversation. But instead of words volleying back and forth between speakers, they each were facing away from the other two and speaking out of turn, seemingly to no one.
    The words between wheezing were too low for Sam to discern, but the most disturbing aspect was their eyes; they spoke as if in conversation but with no one visible, and all the while, the eyes were moving in various directions rapidly, without stopping to focus.
    Ian stomped the floor in disgust and in attempt to gain some measure of authority. Ian truly did cut an impressive figure. He was tall, taller than the six-foot Sam. He had eyes that radiated authority and taut lips that demanded it. He dressed well, giving the air of an aristocrat. But his muscular build and the scar that was visible when the left arm of his suit jacket pulled up an inch from his wrist suggested that there was more to him than the quiet life of an English gentleman.
    In response to Ian’s actions, the creatures fell to the floor; it was a single motion as if choreographed. Sam now only saw a mass of black cloth, their faces and bulging eyes, hidden. The Nephloc, defeated as they were, clustered in a way to prevent even an inch of their flesh from being shown. From their feet to the hood over their head, all Sam could see was darkness. At least he was spared from looking into their hollow eyes, horrific and empty.
    “What are your names?” Marcus’ powerful voice resonated above the meaningless whispers.
    Other than an occasional whimpering, the creatures were now silent. The chants and whispers ceased.
    Sam stood rapt, fascinated by the scene. These creatures had been so frightful, so seemingly powerful, and yet here they were even more helpless than an infant.
    “I command you to speak. You are captured. Your life is within our hands.”
    This caused the whimpering to intensify, but there was some movement of cloth