The Hidden Deep

by Christa J. Kinde

  “That is good.”

  “Nope. It’s awesome!” his mentor countered, then turned to Milo. “Race you to the car, fly-boy!”

  The two took off, Harken following much more sedately, leaving Prissie and Kester on the steps. With a gentle smile, the tall Worshiper took her hand in both of his. “It has been many months since Baird composed something,” he revealed. “Indeed, it has been a considerable source of concern on my part. Thank you for extending your generosity to one whose need was great.”

  “But I didn’t know Baird needed anything.”

  “God knows what we do not,” Kester said with confidence. “His plans encompass yours, and His purposes are always good. Have faith in that, Prissie.”

  6

  THE

  LOST

  LAMB

  Green light exploded into rainbows as Jedrick burst through the ring of stones set into the floor of Shimron’s tower. The old Observer glanced up and serenely smiled at his captain before turning his attention back to his task. The big warrior strolled across the chamber to peer over his shoulder. “I know your subject matter very well,” Jedrick remarked.

  “The Protector should know that which he protects,” the Observer said, adding a daub of color before sitting back to consider the effect. The painting alongside rows of neat text was a close-up of a smooth stone pillar topped by an ornate capital involving carved netting, pomegranates, and leaves.

  “A valid point,” his captain replied. “Still, I am near those columns daily without paying much attention. Seeing one of them upon your page makes me appreciate them anew. They are well made.”

  “Their craftsman has had time enough to hone his skills. The gate is a testament to his patience.”

  “Yes,” Jedrick agreed with a solemn expression. “If there is one thing Aril has in abundance, it is time.”

  “Have you ever been here?” Prissie asked Koji as they stepped off the school bus.

  “Indeed,” he replied. “However, I have never been underground. I am very curious.”

  Today’s field trip had been planned by their science teacher, who’d just wrapped up a unit on caves. “I’ve been through them a few times. We take field trips here every year.”

  Sunderland State Park occupied a large section of the northeast corner of Milton County, and the sprawling acreage included a river, hiking trails, wildflower meadows, a deer garden, orienteering courses, picnic pavilions, camping sites, and a learning center, but its main attraction was the vast network of caves. Miles of underground passages had been mapped, and spelunkers came from all over the area to explore the network of interconnecting chambers.

  “Every year since you were little?” Koji asked.

  “Yes. Nature walks, a class on bat colonies, bird watching, things like that.”

  “Then you have met the rangers?” he pressed, as they filed through the entrance with the rest of their classmates.

  “I suppose,” she replied. “I’m not sure about the volunteers, but I remember an old man in khaki shorts. He’s always here. He’s usually the one who teaches the classes.”

  There was a sparkle in Koji’s eyes. “Do you remember that old man’s name?”

  “I always just called him Mister Ranger. Why?”

  Koji’s fingers brushed the back of her hand, and he whispered, “His name is Abner.”

  Prissie wandered along the fringes of the chattering group, eager to steer clear of Margery’s group. She wasn’t in the mood for any of Elise’s sly remarks today. Sunderland’s learning center was filled with interesting things — mounted insects, old bird nests, animal pelts, deer antlers, porcupine quills, and even a few glass cases containing live animals. Since she’d been here so many times either for classes or with her younger brothers, Prissie had seen it all before.

  Koji had wandered off at some point, and she spotted him in front of the relief map of the park. The Observer was talking animatedly to one of the rangers, a young man with high cheekbones and long black hair neatly parted and gathered into a glossy plait down the center of his back. Glancing at her watch, she sighed. In fifteen more minutes, they needed to meet at the entrance to the main cave. “Might as well get a head start,” she muttered.

  Without a backward glance, she aimed for the side door, which opened onto the short trail leading down to the caves. The way was overhung by pines and ash, and a few stray leaves and needles littered the path. She hunched her shoulders as a short burst of chill air sent a shiver through the trees and down her back. Rain was in the forecast, and the gray skies looked like lead. “I hope it doesn’t storm,” she said to a sugar maple. “Then all your pretty leaves will be gone.”

  “Torn away by wind and rain,” agreed a pleasant voice.

  She whirled to find a familiar figure standing nearby, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against a trail marker. “Oh, it’s you! You startled me, Adin!” she exclaimed. “Why are you here?”

  “To see you, of course.”

  “Oh,” Prissie managed, pleased to be attended by the handsome angel once more.

  “Actually, I don’t have much time, but I needed to speak with you.”

  “About what?” she inquired, picking up on his sense of urgency.

  “I’m curious how far you’re willing to go in order to help your friends.”

  Prissie shook her head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “It’s simple. Here, let me show you.” He slipped around behind her and pointed over her shoulder. In a sing-song voice, he inquired, “Do you see what I see?”

  At first, Prissie didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but then a flash of brightness caught her eye. The small spark spiraled upward in lazy circles, then darted purposefully through the cave mouth. “It went inside?” she whispered.

  “Into the darkness,” Adin confirmed. “Odd behavior for a yahavim, don’t you think?”

  Prissie thought back to what she’d learned about the tiny manna-makers. “They need light to survive.” Peeping into her companion’s face, she asked, “Isn’t it dangerous for one to go underground?”

  “Perhaps,” answered Adin as he took a step back. “Maybe you should follow.”

  Biting her lip, she stared at the huge, black opening. “Do you really think so?” she asked uncertainly, but when she turned around again, he was already gone.

  For several long moments, Prissie wallowed in indecision, but the thought of one of the little fairylike angels in trouble gave her the courage to start forward. “I’m coming,” she said, whispering her promise. Nothing bad could happen. After all, wherever she might go, Tamaes would be there as well.

  The soft sparkle of the yahavim flitted further along the main tunnel, then disappeared into a side passage that was barred by a simple chain. Prissie hurried to follow, until a voice called, “You’re going the wrong way, Miss Priss.” Ransom loafed just inside the entrance, looking bored.

  “What do you care?” she snapped.

  He pushed away from the wall and ambled over. “That’s one of the spelunking paths, so it’s not lit.”

  Prissie poked her head around the corner. She could still see the light of the little manna-maker. “I have a light,” she said stubbornly. “And I’m in a hurry.”

  “For what?”

  “None of your business,” she said, climbing over the chain.

  “You can get really lost in here if you’re not careful.”

  With a toss of her braids, she retorted, “I’m always careful.”

  As she turned away, Ransom caught her arm. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked sharply. She tugged, but he didn’t let go, meeting her glare evenly. “Stop being childish, Priss. It’s not safe.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” she stubbornly argued.

  “Show me your light.” When she couldn’t, Ransom muttered a curse under his breath, then fished in a pocket with his free hand. “If you’re going to be a complete idiot, at least take this,” he said, pressing a small flashlight
into her hand.

  “I don’t need it!” Prissie insisted, pushing it back at him, but Ransom stepped out of range, hands raised. She glanced anxiously down the passage again, but before she took off, she asked, “Are you going to tell on me?”

  “Sure am.” Walking backwards toward the entrance, he said, “I’ll go get your conscience. You mostly behave yourself when he’s around.”

  If he was talking about Koji, that would be a big help. Nodding briskly, she replied, “You do that.” Then Prissie plunged into darkness.

  She flicked on Ransom’s flashlight and hurried as fast as she dared after the tiny sprite. Luckily, yahavim didn’t seem to be built for speed, and she was able to catch up. “Hey, little one,” she called gently. “What are you doing in here?”

  He turned back to face her, and Prissie crooked her fingers just as Harken had taught her. When he hesitated, she asked, “Are you one of Abner’s flock, or do you belong to another Flight? Either way, you’re awfully far from home. Well, probably.”

  Small feet settled on her palm, and the tiny creature peered up at her in surprise. “I’m Prissie. I’m already friends with Omri, so maybe we could be friends, too. I wish you could tell me your name.”

  Faceted eyes blinked several times, and Prissie smiled. He was easily distinguishable from Omri, for unlike Taweel’s constant companion, this yahavim had short hair. Fine strands stood up around his head like a dandelion tuft, and its dusky shade of green reminded her of old copper. “Where are you going, little angel?”

  He pointed along the passage, indicating his desire to keep going. “Aren’t you afraid?”

  The yahavim’s expression grew solemn, and with a jolt, Prissie realized that she could see his face clearly because he wasn’t very bright. Omri’s happiness nearly blinded her when he was near, which meant that this little guy was sad, or possibly sick. “Maybe I should take you to Abner?” she asked worriedly. “He’s a Caretaker, and you look like you need someone to take care of you.”

  He shook his head and pointed even more insistently into the depths. “Right. Can I help, then?” she offered. “I have a flashlight. I know it’s not the same, but maybe it’s close enough?”

  When she showed it to him, he immediately launched off of her hand, twirled through the narrow beam of light, then hovered right in front of her. He smiled with such sweetness, she had to swallow the lump in her throat. “I guess you like it. Which way, then?”

  The yahavim sat upon her upraised palm and pointed in the direction he’d been flying, humming softly. They walked on together, and for a while, they remained on the well-trod path. Prissie had been on it twice before and mostly remembered the way. It was a beginner’s loop. In less than a mile, the trail would rejoin the main tunnel, where she hoped to catch up to her classmates before her absence was noticed. But then the green-haired angel pointed at a narrow opening in the wall Prissie had never noticed before. “Are you sure?” she asked, and he nodded grimly.

  Before long, she lost track of the twists and turns. The caves really were like a labyrinth, and Prissie was hopelessly lost. Down here, the air was still, and the silence was suffocating. Darkness seemed to take on a life of its own, pushing against her, playing tricks on her.

  When they reached another turning, her tiny companion leapt into the air, then spun and flung himself over the end of the flashlight, giving her a pleading look. Somehow understanding, Prissie switched it off, leaving only the little angel’s glow to see by. However, he dove closer and burrowed down inside her jacket’s collar, effectively snuffing out the last glimmer.

  He was trembling, which frightened Prissie even more than the pitch black. Crouching down, she made herself as small as possible against the tunnel wall. From somewhere in the darkness ahead came a sour note, off-key and unpleasant. She held her breath, listening with all her might. A dull clink was followed by a crunching sound that reminded Prissie uneasily of a barn cat eating a mouse. She cupped her hand around her little passenger and curled more tightly, hiding her face on her knees as her heart sent up a silent plea for help.

  Seconds ticked by, though Prissie forgot to count them, and eventually, the yahavim’s trembling eased. He popped back up, and when she straightened, he fluttered to a perch on her upraised knees. For several moments, he seemed to be listening to something in the silence, but then he faced her squarely. Putting a finger to his lips, he then pointed to the ground. “I’m supposed to stay?” she asked breathlessly. His nod was accompanied by a slight increase in brightness, but Prissie couldn’t be glad. “Does that mean you’re going?” Another nod.

  Impulsively, she asked, “Then do you want to take this?”

  Faceted eyes widened, and for a moment, he was too bright to see. With a joyous somersault, he gave thanks for the blue plastic flashlight, then held out both his arms to accept her gift. He tested its weight with a couple of short hops on her outstretched hand, his wings humming with the effort, and then he nodded. It would work. Before leaving, he placed something on her palm. “Manna?” she gasped. He took flight, hovering close until Prissie held the precious wafer between her fingertips, and then he fluttered away, dipping and bobbing under the burden of Ransom’s flashlight. “Be careful, little angel,” she whispered after him.

  Prissie watched until there was no light left, then slipped the manna into her mouth and blinked back tears as its sweetness spread over her tongue. “I did the right thing. Right?” she asked tremulously. It was a very good question, but no one answered. Prissie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alone.

  Sounds were too loud because there weren’t enough of them. To blend into the silence, Prissie found herself talking shallow breaths. Could the enemies hear the beating of her heart or the dripping of each tear that seeped between her lashes? She’d never been so scared in her whole life, even when she was falling, because then, there had been someone to catch her. No, it was much worse to be alone.

  Suddenly, she heard a scrape. Prissie curled more tightly, and tried to be quiet, but a sniffle escaped.

  “Prissie,” someone called. “I’m coming, so sit tight.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but in a few moments, the clatter of loose stones came closer, and light blazed around her, hurting her eyes. Hiding her face, she squinted until she was able to make out a pair of heavy boots and blue jeans in the pool of flashlight. Her rescuer crouched down in front of her, and Prissie’s eyes widened in alarm. “Y-you?”

  After all the twists and turns she’d taken, she’d expected it to take days for anyone to find her — man or angel. The last thing she’d expected was Marcus Truman. “What are you doing here?” she asked numbly.

  “You’ve gone astray, and I’m here to lead you back into the fold,” he replied, sounding rather put out.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” she groused. “Why would the rangers send you?”

  “Oh, I’m Sent,” he said grumpily. “I’m here to lead you back onto the right path, so come on.”

  “Did Ransom send you?” Prissie asked suspiciously. “Why should I trust you?”

  “You really are turned around … in more ways than one,” he said. “Actually, Harken sent me down here.”

  “Y-you know Harken?”

  Marcus shook his head as if she’d said something particularly dense. “This may be the only chance I ever have to say this, so let’s make it good. You should trust me because I’m an angel Sent by God.” Marcus offered her a hand, saying, “Fear not, and all that.”

  “You’re an angel?” she asked skeptically.

  “Yup. A cherubim.”

  Prissie frowned in consternation. “Which one is that?”

  “Protector.”

  “Like Jedrick?” she asked, startled.

  Marcus grinned broadly. “Just like him, yeah.”

  “Prove it!”

  He gave her a baffled look and cautiously asked, “How’m I supposed to do that?”

  “Well Jedrick has wings … and
armor … and a sword. You have scruffy clothes … a bad haircut … and a worse attitude. You can’t be one of them.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?” Marcus growled, running a hand over the top of his bristling two-tone hairstyle.

  “It’s weird,” she muttered, eyeing the platinum section.

  He gazed at her for several heartbeats, then sighed in resignation. “Evidence, huh? Fine, we’ll give that fragile faith of yours a boost. Hold this,” he commanded, thrusting his flashlight into her hands.

  Prissie might have snapped at him for the insult, but Marcus shrugged out of his ever-present brown leather jacket, draping it around her shoulders. Its warmth stopped her shivering, but it didn’t calm her nerves as her classmate next unzipped his hoodie and let it drop to the floor. Jagged patterns that ranged from cream to soft yellow decorated his warm brown skin, and while she watched, they began to glow. With a harmony of whispered notes, they unwound from his bared arms, lifting and spreading until a set of luminous wings fanned out above him, filling the cave with a warm glow. Prissie stared in amazement at the brilliant display, then met Marcus’s waiting gaze and gasped. “Your eyes are different!”

  “Very observant,” he replied with a smirk. Deep brown had been traded for an impossible shade of gold. “Abner said they would stand out too much, so he changed them for me. Kinda like Koji’s ears.”

  “You really are an angel.”

  “Now you’re making sense. You can’t trust everything in wings, though,” he cautioned. “Plenty of the Fallen have ‘em, too.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  This time when Marcus offered his hand, she took it, and he pulled her to her feet. Shaking his head at her, he remarked, “It’s beyond me how you even found this place.”

  “Where are we?”

  “The Deep.”

  That sounded ominous, and she gazed around nervously. Marcus’s radiance stretched far enough for her to see more of the narrow path that cut through rough stone. “It looks like this tunnel ends?” she said, worried about what had become of her little friend.