Divided Paths

by Katrina Cope

  My cheeks lose all feeling when I see the gatekeeper standing before the portal. He carries his staff in hand, his back is arched, the skin clings to his bones, and a tourniquet is wrapped around his head, covering his empty eye socket on the right side. The wrinkly old face stares down at Michael. His tongue whips lavishly around his dry, cracked lips, and a cackle, louder than I would expect from a body of that size, bursts forth from his tiny frame.

  The gatekeeper never forgave us after our first encounter with him, when Michael accidentally caused the damage to his eye. He was only trying to insert a conscience into him so he could reform into his former human self. Little did Michael know that the gatekeeper was never a human—he was half demon, and his body reacted against the angelic light, causing his eye to explode. Every time we see him in the human world, he looks older, forever aging, yet he never dies.

  The portal, dark and menacing, continues to swell behind him. I climb to my feet and charge at the gatekeeper from the side. There is something about him being in his human form that I find hard to kill. I don't understand why I have this trouble, as it would be best if we rendered him from this world. In the past, Michael has also admitted to this problem. It is something that tears us both up inside. We have sworn to protect the humans.

  I slam my shoulder into his side, sending him toppling several feet away. The cackle stops, and he lands hard on the ground. Michael continues to sit, dazed from the blast. He looks injured, but I can't see where. I can't focus on him for long. I have to get rid of the gatekeeper. Pulling my attention from Michael, I see several demons exiting the portal, their eyes wide with anticipation, their skin shriveled to their bones, and their bat-like wings protruding from their shoulder blades. My heartbeat increases its intensity. Here they come again—several of them with their focus glued on Michael.

  The muscles in my neck tighten as I glare at the scrawny little man. I speak through gritted teeth. “What do you want, gatekeeper? Why do you keep coming for Michael?”

  “My massster wantsss him,” he hisses.

  “What does your master want from Michael?”

  He cocks a graying eyebrow, and I swear I see laughter taunting me from his one eye. “He is the leader of the angels. What else is there for a greater demon to want?”

  “Who is your master?” Aggression taints my voice, cutting with as much power as my double-edged Egyptian ax. The gatekeeper doesn't answer me, and I clasp at any idea that enters my mind and names of demons that I've heard in the past. “Is it Separus?”

  The gatekeeper cackles loudly, and I swing my ax at him, not intending to connect, but merely aiming to frighten him. He ducks the swing with quick precision. His age is deceiving—he’s actually quite agile. I roar in frustration, and he smiles at my dismay. I swing at him again and watch him duck before the ax comes near him. It is as though he can see it coming in slow motion.

  “Tell me!” I demand.

  His eyes fill with amusement as he straightens to look at me. “It is possible. Yes, yes. It is very possible. He is one of many.” He continues, “Yes, yes. It is very possible. He is definitely one of many.”

  The demons exiting the portal begin advancing on Michael and me when I block their path. There are so many of them, probably about another thirty. I gaze over my shoulder. Michael is attempting to stand, and I can see there is something wrong with him.

  Raphael, I call silently.

  Zacharias? he responds. I have not heard from you for a long time, my brother. What would you like?

  Michael needs healing now. I skip all niceties—there is no time—and I send him an image of the area. Within seconds, he teleports and stands in the middle of the demons. Green particles form into his shape. He quickly searches around, observes the situation, and sees that the number of demons will be too many for one angel to be able to hold off.

  “Call the others,” he says. “You need help.”

  I don't argue. I don't want to have to worry about demons getting to Michael while at the same time trying to cover my own back. Michael is defenseless, and Raphael will be too busy healing him to be able to help. I can't understand why we stay here. It would be best to leave the demons and the gatekeeper to their own peril or let them disappear once we’re gone.

  “Why don't we just teleport away?” I ask Raphael.

  A husky voice responds, “No, Zacharias. There are humans just over there.” I chance a glance at Michael and look to where he's pointing.

  Not far from where we stand in a park in the middle of the city, several people are flattened against the brick walls of buildings, trapped in the corner of cement and bricks. Their arms are crossed protectively in front of them. Fear is evident on their faces, and their eyes dart everywhere, not knowing where to go as the demons surround them. This time, the demons are not hiding from their prey.

  “We can't leave them,” Michael says. “We can't leave them, or the demons will change them, and that will make more for us to fight against later.”

  I know what he says is true, so I focus on summoning help. Gabriel. Uriel. Are you there?

  Their combined voice response is almost immediate, coming together in my head. Yes, brother.

  I need your help. We are cornered with humans, Michael is injured, and Raphael is looking after him. Come quickly. I send them an image of where we are, and within seconds they teleport. Uriel forms in his white-with-gold gown and Gabriel in pale blue.

  Without a second's hesitation, I see Gabriel's hand reach into their concealed pocket, pull out their shuriken, and fling them at the demons. I watch as they connect. The demons burst into dust before floating to the ground. Instantly, Uriel sends out beams of white light. His power hits the demons, knocking them about and forcing them to collide into each other from the blast.

  Through all of this, the gatekeeper stands off to the side, cackling sporadically. I move toward him, and he disappears into the portal. I have a feeling that he is lurking around the edges of the void. I desperately want to follow him, but I don't want to enter the portal. I don't know what lies behind it. I swing my ax, and it passes through as though nothing is there. Not wanting to pass into the unknown, I focus my attention away from the portal and the gatekeeper and start to help with the defense against the demons. We have to free these humans before we can take Michael to safety.

  A strange sensation twists deep in my stomach. I suddenly feel ill. It is a sensation I have never felt before. My vision tunnels, although I know I must continue to fight. A sudden jab twists deeper, right to the depths of my stomach, causing me to flinch.

  A black pulse shoots in my direction. My movements are too slow, and it hits me in the chest. Thankfully, my golden breastplate stops it. I would hate to know what those pulses are capable of if they got all the way through. We continue to fight, knocking the demons out, slaying them one by one.

  I chance a glance at the others and catch sight of Gabriel. It is ironic that the artistic one who hates fighting is the one who is knocking down the most demons with their shuriken. Each one of the flying stars hits its mark, turning the demons into dust and returning them to the ground to be trampled by other demons that are fighting us.

  Another sharp jab turns my stomach, and I'm puzzled over the cause. I don’t get sick. I am an archangel. What is this horrid feeling that is occupying my stomach?

  Clasping my stomach, I swing at the last couple of demons that continue to fight us. It is then that I hear a raspy voice from my side. “Zacharias, what's going on with Ava?”

  Michael instantly has my attention, and I glance over my shoulder, distracted from the demon I’m fighting. Michael looks at me with concerned eyes that travel down to my hand, which still clasps at my stomach.

  “She is fine. They are safe on the farm as per usual.” I say this out loud, as though trying to convince not only Michael, but also myself.

  Michael continues to study my hand, and I feel the pain growing deeper, causing my fingers to clasp into a fist.


  “I don't think so, Zacharias. You must go.” His sapphire eyes cloud with concern.

  Bile rises to my mouth. I'm starting to think he might be right.

  Another cackle sounds in the corner, and I spin to see the gatekeeper come through the portal again, bringing with him several new demons, who readily replace the slain ones. I grab my ax and get ready to start slaying demons again.

  His one eye focuses on me and squints. “Yes, yes. How is your Ava?”

  My face turns cold. About fifty demons are coming through this time, a lot more than before. My brothers are going to need my help. I start swinging my ax, slaying the few demons immediately in front of me, slicing their stomachs in half and cutting off their heads. The angelically blessed blade sears their skin, disabling them from healing. The strong sickness that causes the pain in my stomach intensifies, yet I can't leave the archangels when there are so many demons around them.

  “Zacharias, go!” Michael's husky voice reaches my ears.

  “I can't. You need my protection, and there are so many more demons now.”

  “Zacharias, go! That is an order! She is under your protection, and she needs you now. Uriel and Gabriel have got these demons covered.”

  I watch Gabriel as they fling out some new shuriken. The flying stars are still hitting their mark and turning the demons into dust. Uriel is throwing out his light, protecting Michael and building a protective layer over Michael and Raphael as the healer heals him. I realize that they will be fine without me, and I look to the gatekeeper. My cheeks still feel clammy.

  “What have you done?” Now I finally realize that the pain in my stomach started when the gatekeeper disappeared from the area. He must've done something in the time he was away.

  The wrinkly old face looks at me with absolute delight, his eye sparkling with satisfaction.

  “You cannot protect them all.” He cackles, and as I dart at him, he disappears into his portal. I swing my ax again and cut deeply as it passes through the area where the portal was active before. It moves as though nothing existed there. It’s as if there was no gate to hell leading up to earth through that little section. How I hate that little man right now.

  I mutter to myself, hoping he would hear. “I will never forget this, gatekeeper, mark my word. I will never forget this.” I teleport back to the farm, hoping that the angels can protect themselves and save Michael as well as the people.

  - Chapter Seventeen -

  I arrive outside the house on the farm, but I can't see anything. Everything looks normal. I scan the area and take in a deep breath. No, wait. Something is wrong. I can smell something sour in the air. Something isn't right. Yet everything outside of the farmhouse shows nothing amiss. I march toward the door, swing it open, and step inside. Instantly, a metallic smell fills my nose. It makes me want to gag, even though my stomach isn't sensitive.

  When my eyes adjust to the light, I look around. Scarlet is splashed in all directions. Red coats the whole kitchen—blood lies everywhere. Assorted body parts scatter the ground, first a hand then a foot minus a couple of toes. Pieces are spread everywhere. I squat down next to a piece to observe it more closely. The fingers are long and elegant—it’s a female hand. My heart wants to break into two. Is this Ava? Please don't let it be Ava. In fact, please don't let it be anyone that I love in this family. I pick up the finger and turn it over. More wrinkles line its flesh than I would expect to find on Ava's finger.

  One part of me is happy that it isn’t her. The other was not happy that it has to be Caitline. My heart silently weeps. What happened here?

  I stand and dash to the room. I can't see any signs of anybody else. Blood covers the bed, but I can't see any other bodies. I enter Ava's room. Nothing is in there. I see no signs of a struggle or blood. Charging out of the house, I start to search the farm. The sickness from before remains in my stomach. I hope Ava and Piers are okay.

  I search the immediate area of the farm. They can't have gotten far. I can't find any sign of them, so I run to the barn, push in the door, and fling it wide. It crashes against the side of the barn as I run into the center, searching everywhere. It is then that I see the farming tools that I had fixed and blessed with my angelic blessing. A sickle sticks straight out of Piers's chest, directly through his heart. He is bent forward and crumpled over a bench, his blood coating the remainder of the tools.

  Gently, I pull him back and lay him on the ground. There is no pulse, meaning there is no way to save him. He’s gone. I quickly search the area for Ava. I can't believe the woman and the man I have grown to love in the last ten years are dead. That couple loved each other from the depths of their hearts. What happened here? I was only gone a little while. Without finding any sign of Ava inside the barn, I leave to search the yard again.

  “Ava,” I call.

  There’s no response.

  I run some more and call out again, “Ava!”

  I can't find her anywhere. The painful sickness is still in my stomach. I remember Michael telling me it is part of her essence. I stop and focus on it. The essence has been there since I swallowed the bean. Holding a hand on my stomach, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The essence is still warm. I can feel it flowing through my stomach. She must be alive somewhere here. She must've escaped somehow. I hope no one has kidnapped her.

  I start searching the rest of the farm, walking past the pigs in the pens as I head for the chickens. Their area always seems to be her favorite place to hang out, even as a child. Something about those birds attracts her. If I don’t find her here, I will search the woods.

  After coming up empty with the ox and the pigs, I hit the chickens. I still can't see her. I am tempted to look elsewhere, but the bean grows warmer, turning almost into a burn. She mustn't be far away. I search the chickens and the chicken house. She isn't here. I change direction and start to head toward the woods, but the warmth in my stomach dims and the pull weakens.

  I study each of the chickens, counting them and studying their features. I had grown to know them during my time on the farm. Each of them has a name. There’s Penny and Oscar and Alistair… I start to rattle off the names in my head as I look at each one. But then I stop. I spot one I don’t recognize sitting in the depth of darkness from the chicken house. It has dark-brown feathers and sits huddled in a corner. I approach it slowly. The chicken doesn’t move.

  Usually, they’re reasonably still around me. I have been around a few times, so they aren’t scared of me. This chicken continues to sit exceptionally still. Its eyes are wide as if it’s frightened, yet it just sits. As I approach, I realize it is shivering, and it feels like ice when I stoop down, pick it up, and cradle it in my arms. The warmth in my stomach explodes right through my body, and I slowly pet its head with gentle, reassuring hands.

  “Ava. Ava, it's me.” I attempt to sit, trying to find a comfortable position, when the tops of my wings hit the side of the chicken house. I suddenly realize I haven't changed back into my human form or tucked my wings away, which means black demon blood covers my face—not a comforting sight for a petrified young woman.

  Slowly and gently, I stroke her feathers down her head and back. I stick my spare hand underneath her belly, giving her my warmth.

  “Ava,” I say again. “Ava, it's me, Zacharias. I'm here now. Come back to me.” I sit for a few minutes, stroking her feathers slowly and repeating the process. I stop trying to coax her into her human form. Instead, I sit there giving her my love. She has probably just witnessed her parents being brutally murdered and wants to stay in hiding.

  I don't know how long we sit there. I do know it is starting to get colder. The summer sun has gone down, and the light is slowly disappearing from the sky. I don't need to go inside. I don't need to take her into those buildings that are tainted by her parents’ deaths. She doesn't need to see that again, so I sit there in one of her favorite spots next to the chicken house, and I cuddle her.

  I whisper in her ear, “Ava, I'm here. There's no
pressure. I'm here, and you can come out when you're ready.” I lean my face against her back and cuddle her until the light disappears from the sky.

  ~~~~~

  I SIT IN the dark and cuddle Ava. The chicken dissipates into particles then reforms back into Ava in her human form. Wearing her shapeshifting clothes, she leans into me as she sits on my lap, resting her head on my chest. The night air is cold, so I wrap my wings around us in the form of a tent and shelter us from the wind. I stroke a hand through her long blond hair and change my clothes into traditional farming clothes, ridding myself of the hard breastplate. A warm, wet patch grows on my chest as her tears sink through my shirt. Lacking words that will take away her pain, I hold her close in silence. Something has gone terribly wrong, and I know that when she is ready, she will tell me what happened.

  The chickens nestle around us, and her favorite moseys up to her. Mademoiselle waits beside her until Ava grabs her and cuddles the chicken in her lap. Slowly she strokes her fingers through the chicken's feathers.

  “What happened?” I ask. “Do you have the strength to tell me?”

  She continues to stroke the chicken's feathers with tears still streaming down her face, and she remains silent. I hook some of her long hair behind her ear and place a hand against the side of her face, pressing her head against my chest, hoping my heartbeat will comfort her where words cannot. Even if she isn't ready to talk, I want her to know that I am here for her, here to protect and comfort her. I haven’t seen any sign of danger on the farm since I came back. I don't know what caused it all. I don't know how they overcame her mother and father, brutally killing them in their home.

  After a while, Ava speaks, her voice choked by tears. “Something happened to Papa.”