Blood of Time: Book 18 of the Witch Fairy Series

by Bonnie Lamer

A flush rolls over Kallen’s cheeks. “I did believe you. It is still shocking.” Nice try, but I’m not buying it. I try to appease myself with the knowledge that he stood behind my idea even if he had doubts.

  There’s a snort of disbelief from somewhere close by. I’m quite sure it didn’t come from anyone in our group. Someone else found Kallen’s explanation lacking. Glancing around, I ask, “Why are the others not showing themselves?”

  “There are others?” I hear Mom whisper to Dad. She glances around the lavender field with a worried expression on her face. I suspect she fears that there may be even more lurking around than these beings. Ones not as friendly to our cause. She’s right to worry.

  Dad shrugs and looks around nervously, too. I don’t think he’s enjoying his first real foray into my world of magical danger and intrigue. I can’t blame him. It’s definitely more fun hearing the stories afterward than being a part of them. Plus, the rest of us have varying degrees of power to protect ourselves when the fighting starts. He will need to depend completely on us for his defense when the magic starts to fly. Yet, he still came without one ounce of hesitation when I asked. I am so proud of the man who raised me as his own right now.

  The Cherubim answers my question. “They are undecided.” A simple answer given in a tone devoid of emotion. Yet, an answer that could determine not only our fate, but that of the Angels, as well.

  Proving she really is as impulsive and headstrong as I am, Zyla demands, “Why? Do you not care what the Seraphim do to us? To the other Angels? To the realms?”

  Oh yeah, she is definitely my daughter. I squeeze her hand a little tighter to try to rein her in. I figure I have about as much chance as Kallen usually has when he does these things to me, but I need to try. Proving she might be a bit more susceptible to suggestion than I am, Zyla holds her tongue with heroic effort so no more words spill from her mouth. I’m pretty sure she’s biting it. Hard.

  The Cherub considers my daughter for a long time. So long, I begin to fear that she isn’t planning to respond to Zyla’s question. I’m growing more concerned that her lion face is just considering what type of condiment to use when it devours her. I open my mouth to break the tense silence when the Cherub’s humanlike face finally begins to speak again.

  Addressing Zyla, she says, “You are bold.” Not a compliment from the tone of her voice. “You are rash in your decisions and proceed without forethought in most things.”

  Unfortunately, those are family traits. At least on my side they are. But the Cherub seems to be forgetting something. “Hey!” I interrupt. “Leave her alone. Remember, she helped save your life too. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  The Cherub ignores me and moves her eyes to Xavion. “You are calculating, more likely to consider consequences. Yet, your need for adventure still often blinds you to them.”

  I roll my eyes. “He’s a teenager. And no one is perfect,” I point out.

  “Agreed,” Kallen growls next to me. He’s not any happier about the Cherub picking our children apart than I am.

  Still, she ignores us. The Cherub’s eyes pass on to Keelan. “You are weaker than the others. You serve as the anchor, a position that does not always sit well with you.”

  “Leave him alone,” Alita demands in the fiercest Mom voice I’ve ever heard her use. “There’s no need to be so mean. You’re just being a bully now.” She takes a step forward as she speaks, and Kegan needs to wrap his arm tighter around her waist to keep her from going any further.

  The Cherub is unfazed by the accusation. When she speaks again, it’s not to Alita. “You stand behind these before us? You are willing to risk all to include them in our fight? The weak, the rash, the thrill seeker, all wearing the shield of unconditional love. The deadliest of weapons when treachery rains upon the lovers.”

  Opening my mouth to respond, I close it again. Something tells me that she’s not talking to any of us. Something also tells me that this is not the time to defend the children, no matter how much I want to do so. Whoever the Cherub is speaking to must make up their own minds with the information they already have. Words of defense will only ring hollow in their ears if they do not already intend to stand with us.

  A brilliant light flashes, and hands race to shield eyes. I glance around at my family and am relieved to find no one seems to be suffering from sudden blindness. Just sudden squintiness, if that’s a word. I guess the Cherubim can not only control their Angel light, but that of other Angels, as well. Good to know.

  When the light dims a little, we can see Rashnu standing before the Cherub. Bowing her head, the Angel says, “I have judged them worthy.”

  Next to her, Urim appears. In his arms, he bears the weight of handcrafted armor. He places the ethereal pieces of metal at the feet of the Cherub. “I give my own guiding light to their fate, for they are deserving.” Rising, Urim stands fast next to Rashnu.

  Next to appear is Grandma, the Angel Lailah. Bowing her head to the Cherub, she says, “I have deemed their love pure and true.”

  A tear rolls down my cheek as I hear my Grandmother’s words. I don’t bother to wipe it away. That would mean letting go of the hands I am holding onto, and I refuse to do that.

  Voloel is next. She stands before the Cherub and declares with bowed head, “There is peace in their hearts.”

  Tabbris comes next. Okay, I can’t help it. I tense a little. Tabbris is always a wild card in situations like this. Bowing her head, she says, “Freewill cannot be denied, and I cannot tip the scales. The temptation that will be offered is great.” Um, cryptic. I didn’t think my tension level could rise any more. How wrong I was.

  The Cherub studies Tabbris for a moment. “You will not pledge your sword?”

  Lifting her head, Tabbris’ eyes flash. “My freewill is not in question, and I find no conflict here. My sword was pledged the moment I came before you.” Okay, I am going to take that to mean that she’s on our side. She just doesn’t like to say too much in case her words affect the freewill of others.

  I’m not the only one who realizes this. Nodding, the Cherub says, “Then hold back your words so as to leave the scales in balance.”

  I thought my tension level maxed out when Tabbris showed up. Wrong again. A quiet ‘ow’ from Zyla’s direction tells me that my tension has ratcheted up quite a few more notches. With an apologetic glance in my daughter’s direction, I force myself to loosen my grip on her hand.

  But I stand behind the tension I feel. Standing before us now is the Angel of War, Gadriel. Things didn’t go well the last time he and I met. He wanted to kill all the Demons. I was against it. Ultimately, I won, which pissed Gadriel off. I haven’t seen him since, but I doubt he’s jumping at the chance to stand with us.

  Before Gadriel can speak his mind, another figure appears and a ray of hope shoots through me. No pun intended. But Ray, the Archangel of Order and Harmony is a friend. Laying his hand on his fellow Angel’s shoulder, Ray says, “When the fight is done, order shall prevail. We pledge our swords.” It’s almost like he’s trying to remind Gadriel of why he should stand on our side. Gadriel nods but says nothing.

  Rightfully suspicious that Ray spoke for them both, the Cherub eyes the Angel of War closely. “Does one tongue truly speak for two mouths?”

  I notice that Ray’s fingers are digging slightly into Gadriel’s shoulder. There will be marks there later. But, the Angel of War doesn’t seem fazed by the Archangel’s grip. His eyes wander in my direction before he responds to the Cherub. “I brought to mortal kind the ability to craft weapons. I gave them the knowledge and power to defend themselves. More times than not, those weapons were used to wield control and power, to conquer, to abuse.”

  Huh, I didn’t realize he did that for mortals. I’m torn between admiring him and hating him for that. Then again, he’s the kind of Angel who brings that sentiment out in others even without knowing that he first taught mortals how to use weapons.

  Gadriel’s eyes swing back to the Cherub. “B
ut when they fell into the hands of the righteous, I have seen glory. I place my faith in the father and the mother.”

  The breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes in a rush. Gadriel is placing his faith in Kallen and me? Well, wait. He said father and mother. He could actually mean pretty much anyone here except the children.

  Except the children. Gadriel is not placing his faith in them. Should we be concerned about that? Does he know something? Okay. Back to being as tense as I was when he first appeared.

  “Does that mean your sword is divided?” the Cherub asks.

  Gadriel lifts his bowed head and looks into the Cherub’s eyes. “No. Although children are an unpredictable lot, my sword will follow the path of the righteous even if that path is littered with the bodies of the Fallen.” Not comforting at all. In fact, I believe most of those bodies will fall because of him. He is the Angel of War, after all.

  I want to say something so badly that my lips are trembling. Grandma catches my eye and her head moves a fraction of an inch to either side. I take her warning to heart and clamp my teeth into the grooves I’ve worn into my lips over the last day or so every time I’ve bitten them to keep them closed. Handy little suckers, these grooves. Good thing because I suspect they’re here to stay.

  “Then let your faith in the parents be enough to pledge your sword,” the Cherub tells Gadriel.

  A sudden clap of thunder sounds over the field of lavender. Gray clouds roll over us, and the ground beneath our feet begins to shake. I try hard not to roll my eyes. There are some who always need to make a grand entrance. Riding a bolt of lightning down from the sky, a massive, dark-haired figure appears. Beside him is a proud woman with long brown hair wearing a gleaming breastplate. Zeus and Hera have arrived together. Other than at the clash with the Titans, I doubt that has happened often through the ages. From what I’ve read, they’ve rarely even been on the same side. Some of the tension leaves my body when Hera gives me a quick nod before turning her attention to the Cherub.

  Behind the God of Thunder are his brothers. They are tearing toward us on land. Their dark steeds trampling the field of lavender and raising a cloud of pretty scented dust in their wake. Poseidon is riding a horse that appears to be made of water. Hades’ horse is black, and flames shoot from its hooves when they touch the ground. I really hope that doesn’t hurt the horse – or have the potential of setting its long black tail hair on fire. I doubt Hades would be concerned with such things.

  The Greeks are just the first of the lesser gods to arrive. Soon, the lavender field fills with powerful beings. Each one swearing their sword to the Cherub. I can’t help but hope that this whole sword thing is just ceremonial. If I end up having to defend my family with a real broadsword, we may be in trouble. I haven’t even mastered fencing yet.

  When Ra appears, he offers me a quick smile before speaking to the Cherub. My heart clenches. I hope he didn’t mention he was coming to Eliana. I know she would stand with us, but I didn’t want to include her in this fight. She has her own important battles ahead of her. She needs to stay in the Cowan realm and follow her own destiny. Ra seems to sense what I am thinking, and he shakes his head slightly. It seems he found a way to be here while leaving Eliana at home. I am not going to question how. I’m just going to be grateful he did. Isis, too. She stands with Ra and pledges her own oath.

  A peek at my Dad almost causes me to burst out laughing. He is staring wide-eyed at these beings he always believed to be firmly rooted in mythology. In his mind, they were beings created by a more primitive set of beings looking for ways to explain nature and science. Even after meeting my mom and discovering the world of magic, he never imagined that magical beings beyond Witches and Fairies were real. Until Kallen showed up, I think he even doubted that Fairies existed, despite my mother telling him otherwise all those years. I’d never let Mom in on that little secret, though.

  I’m caught by surprise when the Cherub speaks to my group again. “Mortals, hear me. This is your last chance to turn back. There is no guarantee that your souls will survive what lies ahead.”

  Everyone in my group stands a little taller, a little straighter. I turn and meet each one of their gazes with mine. What I see is too much for my heart to hold. The love they send back through their gazes fills my heart, my body, my very soul, and there’s still plenty left over. Turning back to the Cherub, I answer for all of us. “We stand together with you.”

  The Cherub nods once in acceptance of pledge. I’m pretty sure she could read the same thing I did in everyone’s eyes. She points to the ground where the ethereal metal awaits. “Then don your armor,” she says to those of us who need it.

  Chapter 34

  Urim bends down to gather the breastplates he placed at the feet of the Cherub. Lailah and Rashnu help him. Soon, they have it distributed to everyone in our group except Zyla, Xavion, and me. We don’t need it.

  Watching the process, I’m a little concerned that it’s a one-size-fits-all situation. All the armor the Angels hand out is the exactly the same size. How is armor that can fit someone like Tabitha going to fit Zac? Maybe I should have given Urim sizes? I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.

  Turns out, my worry is for nothing. I’m relieved to see that self-adjustment is one of the magical properties Urim infused into the metal. As each person slips into their armor, it automatically molds itself to their form to fit perfectly. As other skeptical expressions evolve into relief, I also feel better knowing I wasn’t the only one concerned.

  As Urim helps Dad slip his breastplate on and tightens the straps for him, the helpful craftsman explains, “These will absorb the light of the Angels around you, preventing it from burning your mortal soul to ash.” Dad’s face pales about ten shades past anemic, but he nods and thanks the Angel.

  As harsh as that sounds, it’s true. One Angel’s light could permanently blind a mortal. The light from the number of Angels we’ll likely meet on the battlefield would do what Urim said. That was why Raziel included the lines about Urim from Paradise Lost. “Hee in Celestial Panoplie all armd Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought…” He was both reminding us that the Angels’ armor of light was dangerous and telling us how to get around it. Not what Milton meant when he wrote those lines, but useful information regardless. While we are here in this field, the Cherubim can control the light of the Angels. But once the battle begins, they will need to keep all their focus on the fight. Only Urim, as an Angel of Illumination, could create such armor to protect mortals. None of this would have worked if he hadn’t agreed to help.

  When everyone is strapped in and battle-ready, the Cherub raises her voice and addresses the other Cherubim. “Will you leave this place without time and face the consequences of our inaction?”

  I almost forgot that none of them had sworn their swords to the battle yet. I suck in a breath. Will they stand with us? Or will they decide our problems aren’t their problems? Or maybe they’ll fight for themselves only and leave us to fend for ourselves with the Seraphim. I know what Raziel implied in his clues, but here in the moment when I need to bet my children’s’ lives on it, I’m not confident about how they’re going to respond.

  The surprises just keep coming, though. I let out the breath I was holding as the other Cherubim answer her. “We stand with you.”

  Several four-faced Angels appear around us. Four to be exact, and I turn my head in different directions to take them all in. Their faces are blank pages, but their eyes tell a different story. I can see faint traces of guilt and shame, despite how hard they are trying to hide it. Maybe the Cherubim really do blame themselves for what the Seraphim are doing.

  I guess it kind of makes sense. If they’ve just sat on the sidelines and ignored everything going on around them for millennia. So, it could be argued that they are at least partially to blame. They could have checked the Seraphim responsible long before they grew brave enough to poison the Cherubim and try to take control of everything. Since any one of them coul
d smite me, I’m going to keep that opinion to myself.

  I turn back to the Cherub who has been here all along and find that her human-like face is tight with concern as she takes in her comrades. I’m guessing that she was expecting more. Great. Did the others decide to sit on the sidelines, or did they join the other side? I mentally shake my head. Every time I allow myself to relax just a little bit, I soon regret it. Have enough of the Cherubim agreed to take a stand, or are we screwed?

  Chapter 35

  I don’t get the chance to ask the Cherub that all important question. The ground beneath us begins to shake again. Hard. By the looks on the faces of the Angels who are standing with us, whoever is causing it this time is not welcome. Everyone takes up defensive stances, facing off in different directions, and my heart climbs into my throat. It takes up a lot of space there. No chance words are going to sneak past it.

  “Xandra, it’s time,” Grandma tells me over her shoulder. She just finished tightening Zac’s armor. She leans in and gives him a quick hug before giving me a pointed, ‘hurry up’ look. She rises to her full height and readies her wings.