Ordinary Angels

by India Drummond

  “Do you understand this, Henry?” Zoë asked.

  “Some, Miss Zoë. Fairy blood?”

  “Henry wants to know about the fairy blood,” she said to Thomas.

  “In Henry’s case it came from Xoac. Around 1250 AD Xoac was a bit of a problem. He impregnated many human women. Not all of his descendants will have magic, of course, and some magic is very specific, like Henry’s. There’s never more than one Portal Keeper in a line, and the ability passes on death, not at birth.”

  Zoë didn’t know what to say to someone who’d learned that more than thirty generations back they had a fairy in the family, so she said nothing.

  Henry sat down, as though his spirit body felt weary. “I don’t remember it all, Miss Zoë. When I heard that alarm, I wasn’t about to stick around and meet these Higher Angels. I don’t know where I was. I barely remember opening the door.” He paused and thought. “Best I can describe it is some kind of in-between place. A bit like where I go when I’m not…awake. But different. Scarier. I’m grateful to have gotten away from there. It was so dark.”

  It brought to mind the place she had seen through the archway in her bedroom. A shudder traveled through her from head to toe.

  Henry went on, “But I know for certain I’d been there before.”

  “When?” she asked. “Did you have a portal key before I gave you this one?” As soon she’d said it, she knew. “Rose’s key.” She turned to Thomas. “Does this mean Lament has a portal?”

  “I would say certainly yes.”

  Henry looked down at her hand. “Miss Zoë, how did you get that?”

  “From your sixth great-grandson. He’s a doctor. I don’t know what kind. His name is Robert Benson. Lives in a big house on Santa Anna Avenue. He has a whole collection of portal keys, Thomas. Ten of them. I take it this means he’s a person of interest too?”

  Thomas nodded. “Considering the nature of the Portal Keeper magic, I’d say certainly he has a Guardian, yes. I don’t know who, but I could find out.” He tilted his head to the side and his eyes went blank, then he looked at Zoë. “Cesara.”

  “Pardon me?” Zoë said.

  “Robert Benson’s Guardian.”

  Zoë stared. She sort of liked how blasé Thomas acted about the whole telepathy thing, and wondered who he had asked. She also wondered if Alexander could do it too, and if so, why he never used it to talk to her, like, say, to inform her that he never wanted to see her again.

  Forcing that nugget of awful thought out of her head would take some persistent work, she realized. Willing herself to deal with the present issue, she looked at Henry. “I met Rose too.”

  “Rose,” he said softly. “She didn’t cross over?”

  Zoë shook her head, unable to speak. “She’s…a little confused. She’s waiting for you.” Turning to Thomas she asked, “Can you sort this out? About Kent’s death? Clear Henry’s name with the celestial circle so they’ll stop looking for him?”

  “I think I can,” Thomas said. “But I want to be certain of my suspicions. I remembered that Henry is registered as a person of interest, but I don’t actually have access to the official records of his gift. If I’m going to plead his case, I want to know everything. Shall we go?”

  “Go?”

  “To Lament. I want to see if Rose’s key opens a portal there.”

  Zoë blinked. “Can’t you just ask his Guardian?”

  “I’m certain Henry’s Guardian lost track of him when he left the mortal realm, and we don’t want to alert them to his presence until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  “Why Lament? Why not the one at Fiskers? That’s where this all happened.”

  “They’ll be watching that one. I don’t think anyone else knows about the one in Lament. Henry just needs to put the key near the lock. This way we can check our theory before I take the next steps.”

  “Henry? What do you think?”

  Henry had frozen. “That’s how I died.”

  “What?” Zoë said.

  “I remember now. It was a Tuesday. I had planned to meet Rose, like we always did. She’d given me the key because she had to run an errand for the Reverend. I’d noticed it before, of course, how that key called to me, but I’d never held it. Rose kept it close. She was a careful woman. The door opened to me, and…I remember what seemed like ages of darkness and I wandered and searched, losing a little bit of myself all the time. I kept searching for a way back to Rose, even after I, well, passed. Then after a long, long time, I found myself at Fiskers, even though it wasn’t called Fiskers back then. Funny. I’d forgotten so much. Time wasn’t like anything there.”

  Zoë nodded as his voice trailed off. “Thomas, we can’t ask him to do this. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to Henry. I promise.”

  “Henry?” Zoë said. “If you don’t want to, we’ll just go with what we have. We don’t have to go through with this.”

  “No,” Henry said. “I’ll go. I should have gone back long ago. Back to Rose. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  Zoë felt sad for him. She knew spirits didn’t seem to have control over where they landed. She’d never seen one able to just flit around as they pleased, although they didn’t, as far as she could tell, understand their limitations. Even the spirits who had paid tribute to her must have expended a great amount of will, and she wasn’t sure why they’d been able to do what they had.

  “Okay,” she said to Thomas. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 17

  Thomas transported Zoë to Lament with an unceremonious yank through space. As much as she wanted and needed his help, Zoë believed Thomas was dangerous and somewhat reckless, although that didn’t seem exactly fair either. Still, she didn’t like the idea of taking Henry back to Lament. Knowing how and where he’d died made her suddenly very glad she hadn’t leapt into that dark arch in her bedroom.

  The two of them stood close together in the darkness in front of the old Methodist church. Zoë listened hard, wondering if Rose would approach, but the town felt as eerily still as the first time she’d walked its streets. A few moments later, Henry coalesced out of the darkness. They’d hoped he could use Rose’s key as an anchor, and it didn’t appear he’d had any problem. In fact, with each passing moment, Henry seemed stronger and more solid.

  Henry immediately headed toward the cemetery and the storage building beyond. A small groan escaped him as he recalled the last moments of his life. “Here. I had the key in my hand, like this.” Henry held up the key Zoë had given him at Fiskers. The metal gleamed in a most unnatural way. He started to move toward the door.

  “Henry.” Zoë felt uneasy. She didn’t like the way the door called and enthralled him. “Henry, wait.”

  She was too late. She’d assumed he’d need Rose’s key for this door, but now realized any portal key would open any portal lock. The mordicite was the key, not the physical shape. “Thomas, he’s opening it,” she cried.

  Thomas moved with preternatural speed, straight for the portal. Henry yanked open the door just as the angel arrived.

  Darkness roiled out of the door, and roaring filled Zoë’s ears like wind through ancient underground caves. She ducked to the ground. Then silence descended on them, and she peered up. “What the hell was that?” she cried. That part certainly hadn’t happened in her dark archway.

  Henry stared into the emptiness beyond. “I remember the darkness that night, and I remember hearing that sound. I convinced myself my imagination played tricks on me. I walked in, not knowing anything was wrong at first. But as soon as I stepped over, everything went cold and black. I just remember wandering.”

  Although he’d died before she was born, Zoë couldn’t help but grieve at his sadness and the way this door had ripped his mortality from him. He’d had a happy life with Rose, and they were going to have a baby.

  As though on cue, keening sounded behind them. Henry whipped around, his eyes narrowing. “Rose?” he called to h
er. “Rose!”

  Rose appeared behind them, just as Zoë had seen her before, her hair pulled up in a tight black bun, her features stretched with pain as she clutched her middle. She leaned against a tombstone, weeping. “He’s coming back for me. I know it. He didn’t run off.”

  Fighting an invisible force that pulled him toward the portal, Henry struggled toward her. “Rose, I’m here. I’m here.”

  “Henry?” She frowned. “Is that you? It’s time, Henry. The baby is coming. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Zoë’s throat clutched. That “baby” of Rose’s had died nearly a hundred years ago. “Thomas, what can we do? Rose is here, but she doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s in pain. Can we help her?” She’d long suspected Thomas wasn’t that bothered with humanity, but her earlier assumptions were shattered when she saw the concern on his face.

  Henry caught Rose in his arms. “Shhh. I’m here. I’m here for you now. I came back. Just like always.”

  Rose cried out with pain. “The baby isn’t moving right, Henry. I don’t know what to do. What do we do?”

  Henry looked up at Zoë. “Please. We’ve got to help her.”

  “Thomas?” Zoë repeated.

  Thomas nodded. “I know a place of refuge. I can’t leave you alone though. I will lead them away as soon as I get you protection.”

  “Protection? I manage just fine,” she said with stubborn indignation.

  “Zoë,” Thomas said, “If you saw Peter Delancy, he saw you. He knows where you work, and it wouldn’t be difficult to find out where you live. Henry kept the portal key, which means Delancy didn’t get what he wanted the day Kent died.”

  “I gave his name to the police already,” Zoë said, as though that actually changed anything. Stupid, she thought.

  “If he’s a Portal Keeper, the police won’t intimidate him. The key will draw him, and he’ll need more than anything to get it.”

  “Can’t you do something about him?” Zoë asked when the reality of her situation sunk in. The idea of running from someone who could be a demon or a fairy or just a “person of interest” didn’t sound good.

  “Yes, and I will. I will tell the celestial circle he was responsible for Kent McGee’s death. They will not allow him to carry on, once they know that. But this will take time, time during which you will need protection.”

  Zoë shuddered. She didn’t know what the celestial circle would do to Delancy, but she couldn’t say she felt sorry for him.

  Thomas’ face went blank, which told Zoë he was communicating telepathically. A loud pop sounded as a second angel appeared. When she saw Alexander, Zoë said, “No. Absolutely freaking no.”

  “Zoë,” Alexander said softly. “Thomas said you are in trouble.”

  “Yeah, well, so are you. You sent your lawyer to break up with me? Are you kidding me?”

  Henry cradled Rose on the ground. “Miss Zoë, please. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Please let them keep you safe. For me.”

  Okay, now she felt like a selfish jerk. She nodded. “For you, Henry. Anything.” She paused as she watched her friend comfort the woman he’d loved all those years before. “I thought you liked keys. I never knew about the mordicite or the portals. I feel silly now. Maybe if I hadn’t been so dumb and bought those things, none of this would have happened.”

  “Don’t you talk like that about my treasures, Miss Zoë. You thought about me, and that made me feel nice when I saw those things. You are like family to me. I don’t know if you understand what a blessing that is.”

  Thomas nodded to Alexander. “You are a Free Guardian now. Treat Zoë as your charge.”

  Alexander stiffened. “Of course.”

  To Zoë, Thomas said, “I’ll lead Henry through the portal. That’s the best way. Henry? Hold Rose and stay close. I can’t see you, but I’ll take it slow. Take my arm. I can at least feel the cold and know you’re with me.”

  Henry stood with Rose cradled beside him, as she wept with remembered pain. When he touched Thomas’ arm, the angel’s expression didn’t change. What if they got separated beyond that door, she wondered. She was afraid for them all.

  Thomas led them to the portal door and the blackness within it. “Don’t worry, Zoë. I’ll have them to safety before you know it. And we will do our best to protect you.”

  “And Robert Benson,” she said. “He is a Portal Keeper too, and he has nine more of these keys. If someone came after me and Henry for one key, imagine what they’d do for ten.”

  “She is right,” Alexander said. “If for nothing more than the mordicite alone.”

  “And even with this Cesara angel person as his Guardian—we all know how useless they are when it comes to actually protecting anyone.” Stupid angel rules, she thought.

  “I’ll go to him after I finish here,” Thomas said, “Later tonight. But he’ll need something more permanent. Alexander, you will act as his Free Guardian. You will protect him the way you tried to protect Ronald. Keep him and the keys from falling into dangerous hands.”

  Alexander opened his mouth to protest, but Thomas interrupted.

  “I command it,” Thomas said.

  Zoë blinked. He did what?

  Alexander hesitated only a moment before he bowed his head slightly in Thomas’ direction.

  Zoë watched the exchange with interest, but decided the time was not right to ask why Thomas could command anyone.

  Thomas went toward the portal, with Henry and Rose close behind. She hoped he could get them where they needed to go. The fact that he couldn’t see them didn’t instill much confidence in her. Knowing Henry had died in there reminded her that she couldn’t do much to help. Besides, she had to have a little faith.

  As soon as the trio passed through the portal, the ancient door slammed shut. Long grass in front of the storage room shifted slightly, but then suddenly everything went still, and the door looked for all the world like it hadn’t opened in a hundred years.

  “Zoë,” Alexander said. “May I take you?”

  “Will Robert Benson be safe?”

  “Yes, Zoë. Thomas and I will do all we can.”

  “You may take me home,” she said. With that he put his arms around her.

  Chapter 18

  They popped directly onto Zoë’s front porch. She didn’t say a word as she unlocked the door and went in. Alexander didn’t follow. Zoë sighed. She’d have to do something about this.

  “Alexander, can you wait here please? I need to talk to Gran, and then you and I can talk.” Her anger hadn’t faded, but she didn’t have much fight left in her.

  The clock on the wall read eleven fifteen. Her back ached and she was drained and sore. Her legs dragged as she climbed the stairs to the upper floor to Gran’s room. For the first time it struck her as odd that she had an entire room of her three bedroom house devoted to someone no longer breathing. Most women her age would plan to use it as a nursery someday. That thought made her laugh. “Get over it, Zoë,” she said aloud.

  She tapped on the door before walking in. Spirits didn’t need privacy, since they could simply vanish if they didn’t want to be seen, but she couldn’t stop herself from treating them like living people. “Gran?” she said. The room was empty, as she had expected. She didn’t have an object of Gran’s to use as a focus, to draw her into the world as she had with Henry, but would she need it if Gran was only “resting” and not caught in some dark place like Henry?

  “Gran,” she repeated, closing her eyes. Something in her blood sang. She suddenly understood she wouldn’t need an object. As a blood relative, she could use her DNA as the calling object. “Gran, please come here.”

  “I’m here,” Gran said testily.

  When Zoë opened her eyes, she saw the plump figure staring at her over her spectacles. “Hi. Thanks for coming.” Before the old spirit could say anything about not having a choice, Zoë ploughed on. “Gran, why haven’t you crossed over? Is it because of me?”

  Gran
smoothed out non-existent creases in her lilac pantsuit. “I wondered, sometimes, why you never asked me before.”

  Zoë lowered herself into a worn, overstuffed chair. “Are you like a Guardian? Making sure I don’t mess up the world with my…quirks?”

  A derisive snort exploded from Gran’s mouth. “Quirks, my backside. And no. Well, sort of.” She held up a hand to stop Zoë speaking. “I’m not like one of those exalted who go around telling people what is and isn’t supposed to be. Anyone with any sense knows that’s a crock.”

  Zoë smiled. Coming from Gran, this was practically swearing a blue streak.

  “You need looking after. Let’s just say I know some things.” She picked up her needlework, as though to end the conversation.

  “You’ve been gone a lot.” When Gran didn’t respond, Zoë sighed. “Alexander won’t come in if you’re here.”

  “Good,” Gran said haughtily.

  “No, Gran. Not good. I know you want to watch over me, but I have to live my life.” The words pained Zoë. It seemed rude to remind Gran that the old lady was no longer alive. “You can’t protect me.”

  Gran look startled. “I see. That’s what you think?” She took off her glasses and eyed Zoë. “You want me to leave?”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying. I want you to stay. But only if you want to. Only if you like it here. Gran, do you want to cross over? You never know. You might like the other side. Maybe it’s all streets of gold and milk and honey,” she said, her voice soft. She got the feeling most stories about the afterlife and heaven didn’t have anything to do with what was actually out there. “I’d miss you, of course. But I know you have your own soul to look after.”

  “I like looking after yours,” Gran said.

  “Do you ever wonder though? What’s out there waiting if you go?”

  Gran’s gaze went steadily back to her needle and thread. “If it’s all the same to you, child, I’ll decide when it’s time to go.”