by Bryan Davis
She cringed at the sound of her voice. It had been months since she had spoken, months since she had vowed never to speak again until she could be reunited with Elam and tell him . . . tell him . . .
She flopped down on her back. Not those words! They were too sad to utter, even in her mind.
Holding the cross upright on her chest, she gazed at its dark wood, now weathered and worn. Strange that it had always stayed smooth when she used it to open portals. As she traced her finger along its edges, an image from long ago appeared in her mind Elam walking into an Easter service at a church in Glasgow, and a cross decorating the front of the sanctuary. One of the songs played like an enduring echo, a song of death, resurrection, and victory.
Sapphira winced at the lyrics. The song didn’t make any sense. There was no joy in getting mocked and abused, living a life of torture, then dying a cruel death. So what if a messiah died and rose again? What good did it do? Elohim didn’t resurrect Gabriel’s body after he sacrificed it for a friend. He didn’t whisper in Paili’s ear to warn her when the devil’s mistress gave her the food of death. And he didn’t seem to care any longer about a freak of nature buried alone under thousands of feet of rock.
She sat up and slung the cross at the portal screen. It agitated the light as it passed through and bounced across the rocky floor on the other side. She flopped back down and, sliding her hands behind her head, squeezed her eyes closed. She sniffed and spoke out loud, her words pouring forth in a lament. “Elohim, please tell me you’re not just another Nimrod. Tell me you aren’t a king who just uses people for what you can get out of them.” She extended her open hand upward and shouted through her sobs. “You danced with me! Don’t you care about me anymore?”
She rolled over and stuffed her blanket into her mouth, biting it hard as she cried on and on.
Circa AD 1988
Gabriel floated high over the Drake residence, surveying the dim, moonlit landscape. The remote cabin sat alone at the top of a rural mountain, so strangers had no reason to venture the long, narrow road that ascended the steep incline. From his vantage point, he would be able to see any car headlights as far away as Flathead Lake at the base of the tree-filled slope. So far, no one was in sight.
Since Hannah and Timothy had gone to a movie in Kallispell, leaving Isaac Stalworth, Timothy’s “adopted” father, to babysit Ashley, Gabriel paid closer attention to his job than ever. Isaac was a trustworthy old man, but could he handle an attack by a slayer? Vigilance was in order for other reasons as well. Ever since he had created that telegram, it seemed that his parents had been shadowed by a mysterious stalker, making that form of communication too dangerous to continue.
Gabriel flew lower and peered in through the window. Isaac bounced little Ashley on his knee, making her straight brown hair sway across her back. She pointed at him, apparently saying something, but her voice didn’t penetrate the glass.
After filtering in through a narrow slit under the window, Gabriel drew close. Isaac rested his leg and patted his chest, wheezing. “I’m getting tired. Can’t we do something else?”
Ashley slid closer and laid her hand over his. “Do your lungs hurt, Dada?” she asked.
“Strange.” Isaac lifted his palm. “They did hurt, but they feel better now.”
She crawled back out on his knee and slapped his thigh with her little hand. “Then one more ride before I tuck you into bed.”
“Tuck me into bed? Don’t you want me to read to you?”
“No!” She crossed her chubby arms over her chest. “You never want to read what I want to read!”
“Look, young lady,” he said, shaking a finger at her, “I endured Lord of the Rings, but I’m not cracking open War and Peace. I’d be asleep before the second page.”
She spread out her hands, and her smile dug a dimple into each of her cheeks. “Then you go to bed, and I’ll read it to you.”
Isaac nudged her chin with his finger. “You’re only two years old! You shouldn’t be filling your head with all those war stories.”
“Why not?”
He tapped her head. “You know what your mother says.”
“Don’t say it!” Ashley covered his mouth with her hands. “I won’t let my brain choke.”
“If you’re not asleep when Mommy and Daddy get home,” he said, mumbling between her fingers, “I’ll be in big trouble.”
Ashley pressed a fingertip on his nose. “You’re too big to spank!”
A sudden popping noise pricked Gabriel’s senses. He peered out the window. A car rolled into the gravel driveway, its headlights dark. The car’s doors opened, and two shadows skulked toward the house.
Gabriel flew up to the ceiling and jammed his finger into an empty socket in a hanging light fixture. The shock sent him flying into the hallway, and the bulbs in the other sockets exploded.
Isaac scooped up Ashley and hunched over her, protecting her from the shower of glass. “Not a sound!” he said. “You know the plan.”
Ashley pressed a shushing finger over her lips and nodded.
Isaac scrambled to the back door, but when a beam of light flashed through the adjacent window, he pivoted and ran toward the hall, whispering to Ashley. “Remember how we practiced jumping out the window?”
Ashley nodded again. Isaac stomped right over Gabriel, and the two disappeared into a bedroom.
The front and back doors flew open. Bright beams slashed the living room, each one finally landing on the other’s source and illuminating the intruders’ faces. Dressed in chain mail and draped with surcoats, Devin and Palin drew out their swords.
Devin, the candlestone swinging over his chest, pointed his sword at the hall. “That’s the only way he could’ve gone!”
Palin resheathed his sword and ran. Gabriel plugged his fingers into a nearby outlet. Instantly, pulsing energy swelled his body. Palin set his feet, but his momentum carried him into Gabriel’s glowing field.
Palin’s face lit up, and streaks of electricity spewed from his mouth. Devin grabbed Palin’s hand and pulled. The current arced into Devin’s body, but with a backwards lunge, he yanked Palin free.
Lying on the hallway floor, Palin pointed at Gabriel. “Who is that winged boy?”
“It must be that mongrel I hunted back in England.” Devin rose slowly to his feet. “I think his name was Gabriel. Morgan told me he’s Thigocia’s son. It seems that he survived his execution.”
Gabriel unplugged himself. His energy field collapsed, but jolts of electricity continued to sizzle across his body.
Palin rose slowly, wobbling on shaky knees. “What is he made out of?”
“It looks like electrical sparks of some kind.” Devin kicked at Gabriel’s dwindling energy. “But whatever he is, he doesn’t appear to be physical, and it doesn’t look like he can move.”
As the sparks dissipated, shadows enveloped the two slayers. Only the moonlight from the living room window illuminated their dim frames. Palin nodded toward the bedroom. “Should we try to find the old man?”
“He was alone, wasn’t he?”
Palin flicked on his flashlight and ran its beam along the hallway floor. “I didn’t see anyone else.”
“As soon as we prepare Thigocia’s welcome home surprise, we’ll look around, but he’s not likely to be able to warn her from out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Palin limped toward the front door. “I’ll get the gas.”
As the last of Gabriel’s sparks winked out, his outer extremities stretched toward the candlestone. He tried to resist, but his confused atoms did little to defy the gem’s power.
Devin turned on his own flashlight. Some of the beam’s particles seemed to break away and trickle in the opposite direction. “Your mother hid her tracks well, but not well enough.”
After returning with a gasoline can, Palin splashed the contents over the furniture and rugs. Pausing for a moment, he set
the can down and picked something up from the floor. The clump of material draped over his hand looked like one of Ashley’s rag dolls.
Gabriel cried out in his mind. Now they would know about Ashley, and they would comb the forest until they found her!
Glancing at Devin, Palin stuffed the doll under his surcoat and continued his morbid job. When the last drops drained out on the hallway carpet, he handed Devin a glass bottle with a rag sticking out of the top.
As Gabriel stretched toward the candlestone, Devin stomped on the carpet. “I know you’re still around here somewhere.” He raised the bottle. “Ever heard of a Molotov cocktail? When your mother returns, Palin and I are going to propose a toast, thanking her for donating her blood to our cause. If our little explosion doesn’t kill you, then I guess nothing will.”
Gabriel strained against the candlestone’s relentless pull. With the slayer standing right over him, the gem seemed to lasso his body and drag him upward. He finally gave in. As he flew toward the glittering crystal, the room stretched out into warped colors and disappeared.
Chapter 8
Bonnie Conner
August, 1995 A.D.
Gabriel? Can you hear me?”
The eerie voice seemed unearthly, yet familiar. Gabriel opened his eyes but could see only darkness. He turned his head to one side. With a veil of blackness in view, he couldn’t tell if he was standing, sitting, or lying down.
“Over here, Gabriel.”
He swiveled his head to the other side. A bright humanoid shape reached a shimmering hand over his brow.
Gabriel whispered, “Merlin?”
“Yes. It’s time for you to wake up.”
Gabriel stood and shook his head, clearing his foggy mind. “Wake up? How long have I been sleeping?”
“Ever since you reentered the candlestone seven years ago.”
“Seven years? How could I sleep for seven years?”
“Because of necessity and mercy.” Merlin pointed a radiant finger at him. “Your energy was nearly spent in your battle with Devin and Palin, so you needed to recharge. Sleeping was also an act of mercy, for wandering here for years on end is not exactly a pleasant experience.”
“I remember shocking the slayers, but ” An image of Palin drenching furniture with gasoline flashed in his mind. “Merlin!” he shouted with his static-filled voice. “Did they kill my parents?”
“I’m afraid so.” Merlin laid a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Yet, there is still hope for them, and we must work together to salvage what we can.”
“There’s hope?” Gabriel rolled his fingers into fists. “What do I do? Where do I go?”
“Patience. The path to their restoration is not straightforward. First we must take care of the dragon offspring.”
“Like Ashley? She got away, didn’t she?”
“Ashley is in no danger. Her grandfather adopted her and changed her last name to his own. Since her dragon traits are not easy to detect, she will not attract the slayer’s attention.”
“That’s a relief.” Gabriel relaxed his fingers. “So do I get to guard her again? I managed to save her, didn’t I?”
“There is no doubt that you saved Ashley’s life.” Merlin’s bright silhouette paced in front of Gabriel. “After losing Shiloh, you rebounded well as a guardian angel.”
“Thanks. I know I’m not a real angel, but sometimes I felt like I was supposed to be. It’s hard when you can’t always figure out what to do.”
“Intelligence must mingle with wisdom and shrewd planning.” Merlin stopped and touched Gabriel’s chest with his glowing finger. “You cannot rely on your physical field alone. Electricity manipulation is limited and dangerous.”
“I know. It’s sort of shocking, too.”
Merlin’s energy field flashed red. “Very funny. You almost disintegrated, and now you’re making jests.”
“Right.” Gabriel bowed his head. “Sorry.”
Merlin slowly faded back to dazzling white. He floated to the darkest part of the chamber and knelt next to a fissure in the floor. “I awakened you, because you are likely now strong enough to leave the candlestone.”
“I feel strong.” Gabriel knelt beside him. “Trust me. I’ll get out somehow.”
“And you must. Your next assignment awaits.”
“Next assignment? Do you mean I can’t watch over Ashley?”
“You may visit her from time to time, because your new charge lives within a reasonable distance. But you must not let your concern for Ashley distract you from focusing on Bonnie.”
“Bonnie?”
“Yes.” Merlin rose to his feet. “Bonnie Conner is the daughter of Irene, formerly Hartanna. She has a wonderful dragon trait that has only recently become obvious, and her parents will now have to hide it to keep the slayers at bay.”
“What trait does she have?”
“You’ll soon find out.” Merlin gestured for Gabriel to stand. “Come, let us expand our vision, and I will show you where Bonnie lives. Then, you must leave this place and become her guardian angel.”
Gabriel glided up to the two-story Victorian home, flapping his wings as he ascended the three wooden porch steps. Although his movements did nothing to propel him, changing his energy boundaries made him feel more alive and less like a floating cloud of invisible gas.
Pausing at the front door, he read the address, 377, each calligraphic numeral illuminated by the rays of the rising sun. He glanced around for a way inside. Weather stripping blocked the crack under the door, so he drifted to the side of the house and focused on a vent, possibly leading to a kitchen stove. Traveling past soot and hot air wouldn’t be fun, but he had entered Ashley’s new home that way.
Shaking his head, Gabriel floated back to the porch. Ashley’s home was where he really wanted to be, and it was only about eight or nine miles away on the other side of Missoula, about an hour’s journey at the pace his thought-induced locomotion provided. This assignment would be so different. Bonnie and her parents were strangers. What if she turned out to be a brat? Or a stuck-up princess, smug and proud as she strutted about in her latest fashions?
Gabriel peered in through a window that abutted the door. Standing beside a coat rack in the foyer, a woman helped a little girl adjust a backpack, checking the zippers multiple times and smoothing out the wrinkles in her sweatshirt. The woman grabbed a jacket from the rack, and the two headed for the door.
As Gabriel backed away, the door flew open. Swinging a Winnie-the-Pooh lunch box, the girl bounced out and ran right through Gabriel. The woman followed, laughing. “Bonnie! Wait! What’s your hurry?”
Bonnie spun around and backpedaled toward the street, her blonde hair streaming in the stiff breeze. “If I’m late for my first day, the teacher might not like me!”
“Who wouldn’t like you, silly girl?” Her mother caught up and took her hand. “Anyway, the bus won’t be at our corner for another five minutes. There’s plenty of time.”
As mother and daughter walked hand in hand along the sidewalk, Gabriel followed close behind. Bonnie seemed nice enough, far from what he had feared. No bratty princess could ever produce her smile so pure, so genuine, the image of youthful innocence. Her mother, of course, had to be Irene, the former dragon who once bore the name Hartanna. She seemed dutiful and friendly, another welcome discovery.
He zoomed ahead, then floated backwards in front of Bonnie, matching her pace. He gazed into her bright blue eyes so much like Shiloh’s, it was amazing! In fact, her hair, the shape of her nose, the way she walked, everything about her reminded him of Shiloh. How could cousins look that much alike?
When the two stopped at the corner, Irene pulled Bonnie’s hair back into a thick ponytail and wrapped it in an elastic band. “Remember,” she whispered, stooping to meet her eye to eye. “Don’t take off your backpack and no one will see your . . . um . . . growths.” She pulled the hem down on Bon
nie’s sweatshirt and kissed her forehead. “It’s very important that no one finds out about them.”
Bonnie nodded, her smile unabated. “Okay, Mama. I won’t take it off.”
“Good. You were right to tell me about those growths. We’ll talk more about them later.”
Bonnie adjusted the strap on her backpack. “Will I have to go to the doctor?”
“We’ll see.” A diesel engine clattered in the distance. “Here comes the bus.” Irene kissed Bonnie again. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.”
The bus pulled to a whining stop. When the doors swung open, Bonnie hopped on board and waved to her mother. Gabriel drifted in behind Bonnie and waved with her, though, of course, Irene had no idea he was there.
Bonnie turned and smiled at the bus driver. “Hi! I’m Bonnie! What’s your name?”
“Pearl.” The middle-aged woman frowned under her tightly pulled hair bun and pointed toward the back. “Now sit down.”
Bonnie’s smile faded. She walked slowly down the aisle, her eyes shifting from side to side. One girl laid a notebook on the seat next to her and gave Bonnie a nasty glare. Another whispered with her neighbor and giggled as Bonnie passed by. When she approached the rear of the bus, a boy tossed a wad of paper that bounced off her cheek. “No first graders back here!” he called.
“Look at her stupid lunch box,” another boy said. “Only babies watch Winnie the Pooh!”
Blinking rapidly as she retreated toward the front, Bonnie hitched up her backpack and slid into an empty bench in the middle section. She wiped a tear from her eye and leaned her head against the window, her lips tight and her chin quivering.
Gabriel sat next to her. He scooted close and wrapped a wing around her whole body. Of course she couldn’t feel it, but maybe he could somehow relay a bit of sympathy. The very first stab of rejection always bled profusely, a shedding of innocence he knew all too well.
Bonnie glanced at another little girl sitting alone across the aisle. With her chin pointing at her chest, the girl’s gaze wandered Bonnie’s way, and the hand in her lap gave Bonnie the slightest hint of a wave.
