She paused, looking around her, then her eyes fixed again on the glow at the mouth of the forest. Strangely, Phoebe was very aware that her feelings of fear and dread had subsided, and had been replaced instead by a warmth and a sense of well being she could not explain, but which, to her surprise, she recognised. It was the inexplicable sensation of being protected which she had experienced in the midst of her despair at the site of the plane crash. Suddenly and instinctively, everything became clear and Phoebe knew what she had to do.
CHAPTER 6
Her heart thudding in her chest and her ears, Phoebe moved tentatively towards the forest. She was nervous, yet somehow felt more safe and alive than she had done in a very long time. It was a bizarre sensation and one which she could not really explain, but she knew it to be real.
Standing beside the ever-expanding vortex of blindingly brilliant light, Cosain, Solas and Dilis stood shoulder to shoulder with Trean, Neam, Lasair and Croga.
“It is almost time, brothers,” said Cosain, his chiselled features earnest, his stance determined. “Phoebe Wren must decide now whether or not to venture with us through time and space. Her decision will change not only her own destiny, but will have an eternal effect on the island of Ireland. The Atoner’s plan is about to come to fruition, and we must be ready for the fight of our lives. The Enemy will not take this lying down.”
“We are ready, Captain,” said Solas, “We will defend her to the death, the Atoner’s plans are perfect and we will strive to help Phoebe achieve her destiny”.
“Look,” cried Dilis, his angelic countenance alive with radiant hope. “She is coming this way. I believe that she knows what she must do! Come, brothers, let us get ready to travel with her.”
The seven warrior angels, gargantuan wings fully extended, drew their swords as for battle. The enormous blades, three feet in length, glowed fiery red in anticipation of the inevitable mêlée ahead. The angelic breastplates were forged in bronze and purpose built to withstand demonic menaces. The fearsome angels stood, powerful and tall, clad in red tunics and black leather sandal boots laced up to just below their knees. These were not the serenely halo-clad, harp-playing angels from a scene on a Christmas card, but were the Mighty Ones of the Atoner, ready to do their Master’s bidding. The Heavenly brothers made for a formidable sight – had they been visible in the human realm.
Oblivious to the seven angelic beings awaiting her approach, Phoebe continued tentatively towards the forest and the source of the peculiar light. Her heart was racing now, but she felt undeniably and irresistibly drawn forward. She reached the edge of the woods and was about to pull out her cell ‘phone to ring Ella when suddenly she found herself being pulled with great force and at great speed towards what she now saw to be a swirling, undulating portal. Fear gripped Phoebe’s throat, but she did not even have time to cry out before she was sucked into the centre of the vortex of light and shot upwards at an incredible speed leaving the green meadow and the Quills’ house far below her. It occurred to her that this was how Dorothy Gale must have felt when the tornado caught her house in ‘The Wizard Of Oz’. Inside the vortex, however, far from experiencing panic or dread, Phoebe felt warm and light, and somehow, despite her fear, she knew that this was something she had to do. She could not explain any of it, yet she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.
As suddenly as it had snatched Phoebe up, the luminous portal snapped shut and vanished, leaving nothing in its wake but a few startled hares in the empty meadow. Unknown to Phoebe, seven angelic warriors had simultaneously stepped into the vortex, and were winging their way through time and space with her. Phoebe’s life was about to change – again – forever, and although she could not know it yet, she would soon be in the throes of the greatest battle she could ever have imagined.
CHAPTER 7
WEDNESDAY 14th JULY
JOHANNESBURG, AFRICA –
the day before the plane crash
Phoebe’s light-fused journey was over almost as quickly as it began. In what seemed like a nanosecond, she felt the earth firm beneath her feet and looking around her, the whereabouts of her familiar surroundings slowly dawned on her – Phoebe was back on the plains of Africa!
“How can this be?” marvelled Phoebe. “I must be dreaming! Yes, that’s what this is, just a dream.”
She pinched her arm, and again, harder this time. “Ouch!” Yes, she definitely felt that. As she surveyed the landscape around her, she was suddenly very aware of the midday African sun on her back, and peeled off her jacket. There was no doubt, Phoebe was back in the land she had been brought up in for the last ten years – but how? She surveyed the dusty plains in front of her; the rusty coloured ground, the baobab and cotton trees, the dirt tracks and rows of hut-like homes – all so familiar and yet as she stood now, so surreal and illogical.
“Phoebe! Hey, Phoebe!”
Phoebe’s reverie was interrupted and she spun around in the direction of the voice calling her name. She was still unsure what was happening to her, and was reluctant to trust what seemed so obvious.
“Phoebe! Come on, Bird! What are you waiting for?”
Phoebe instantly recognised the voice. There was only one person who referred to her as ‘Bird’ – it was the endearing nickname given to her by Demetrius Kwanga, a sixteen year old boy from the nearby village of Wemmer, and her best friend throughout the ten years she and her parents had lived in Africa. Demetrius had said that ‘Wren’ was the perfect surname for Phoebe because that’s what she was – a little bird. She could scarcely believe her eyes when she turned to find Demetrius’s perpetually smiling face just a few feet from where she stood.
“Demetrius!” Phoebe cried, kicking up an impressive dust storm as she raced towards him and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh Demetrius, I’m so happy to see you!”
Demetrius hugged his friend back, obviously bemused. “Ehh… I’m happy to see you too Phoebe, it’s been what? A whole three minutes?”
“Three minutes? Demetrius, what do you mean?” Phoebe loosened her vice like grip on her best friend and took a step back, screwing up her face as she searched his for some hint of a joke. She found none.
Slowly, realisation began to dawn on Phoebe, and she hesitated before she asked the next question, desperate to hear the answer, and yet afraid of its implications – “What’s the date, Demetrius?”
“Seriously Phoebe? You want to be silly? Okay – its July 14th. Can you remember the year, or shall I help you with that? It’s 2010, Bird”. Demetrius grinned at his friend; funny silly Phoebe who loved to joke around and have fun.
“July 14th? But that means… Demetrius, that means… Where are my parents? Please, you’ve got to tell me where they are!”
“Phoebe, are you okay? I know you can be crazy sometimes, but what’s with the drama? You’re starting to freak me out a little bit.” Demetrius’s amusement had faded into concern as he realised that Phoebe seemed genuinely agitated about her parents’ whereabouts.
“It’s okay, Bird, they’re at the hospital. They’re both on duty and my Aunt said you could stay with us until this evening. Remember? You said you’d love to spend the afternoon with us, considering that you’re…” Demetrius’s face fell. “Well, you’re leaving tomorrow…”
Tomorrow. The word hit Phoebe like a tonne of bricks as the full realisation of where and, more importantly, when she was dawned on Phoebe. Demetrius’s voice had trailed off and Phoebe could see the sadness in his brown eyes at the prospect of losing his best friend to a land so far away and inaccessible to him. Phoebe and Demetrius were as close as she and Ella were but in Demetrius, Phoebe also had the big brother she had always secretly hoped for. He was kind and thoughtful, maybe even a bit over protective – she would never have admitted it to him, but she loved that about him, she loved that he fussed over her and needed to know every detail about where she was, with whom, and how long she would be out. Phoebe used to jokingly tell Demetrius that he was more like her dad than
her Dad was, and would simply laugh mischievously at him when he tried to protest.
Phoebe gathered her jumbled thoughts as best she could, mentally reaching inside her head and grabbing them as they zoomed around in the most disorderly manner. She had no idea how or why this bizarre twist of fate had happened, and she could not even begin to make sense of it, but for now she wanted to grab this incredible gift with both hands – if this was not a dream, then she had just been handed a second chance, and she did not intend to waste it.
“Can we call at the hospital please? Just quickly. I’ve, um, forgotten to check where Mum packed my iPod.”
Phoebe tried to sound casual, like this was just a typical day, but given the circumstances that was no mean feat. She trusted Demetrius with her life, and fully intended to tell him the entire story in all its weirdness, but she needed to see her parents first, to make absolutely sure that she wasn’t dreaming.
“Sure thing, whatever you need Phoebe,” Demetrius said, and the two of them did a sharp turnaround and headed briskly in the direction of Medical Miracles Hospital.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Demetrius enquired as they walked, squinting his eyes as he peered sideways at his friend.
“Oh, uh, yeah… Yes, I’m fine… I’m just a bit, uh, well I’m nervous about tomorrow. It’s a big move we’re making.” Phoebe worked hard to sound normal. ‘Nervous about tomorrow’ – given the happenings of the last few weeks that was definitely an understatement!
Phoebe and Demetrius made the short trip to the hospital where Jack and Eva Wren were finishing their last shifts as surgeons with Medical Miracles. They passed through the automatic glass doors, and Phoebe followed the painted yellow line on the ground that lead to her parents’ office on the third floor. ‘My own yellow brick road’ she mused silently, and a wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. As the two friends rounded the corner on to the corridor that housed the Wrens’ office, Eva was just pulling the door shut behind her. She was dabbing a little at her eyes, obviously moved and tearful to have just finished her last surgery in Africa.
“Mum!” Phoebe yelled as she broke into a gallop down the dusky pink painted corridor. “Mum!” Phoebe flung herself into Eva’s arms, catching her mother completely off guard and almost knocking her over.
“I’m so happy to see you Mum! I thought I would never…” Phoebe was desperately fighting back tears, and clinging to her mother as though she might never let go.
Eva Wren was bemused. “Hello sweetie,” she laughed. “Well, you definitely know how to cheer me up after my final surgery. Hey Dem.” She waved a casual hand at Demetrius, who was surveying the encounter with puzzled curiosity.
“Hello Mrs. Wren,” Demetrius smiled at Eva. Jack and Eva were like surrogate parents to Demetrius, who had lost his own parents in a tragic accident several years ago. He felt entirely at ease with the Wrens, and had always appreciated their total acceptance of him as their ‘adopted’ son.
Phoebe checked herself before her peculiar behaviour aroused too much suspicion – of course her mother couldn’t possibly fathom the overwhelming joy behind this reunion. As far as Eva was concerned, she had left her daughter with Demetrius and his aunt earlier that morning to spend a final day with them before the Wrens returned to Ireland. If Phoebe told her about the last five weeks of her life as an orphan, her mum would think she was making the whole thing up.
“Where’s Dad?” asked Phoebe, regaining her composure and working hard at coming across as if nothing odd was happening.
“Dad’s still in theatre, Love. He’ll be another couple of hours. I’ve got some goodbyes to say, so I’ll see you at home this evening, okay?”
“Yep, that’s okay Mum. I’ll see you then.”
Phoebe turned to leave, and remembered her thoughts from – when? – this morning probably. “I love you, Mum,” she said. “A lot.”
“Aww, thank you sweetheart,” Eva smiled lovingly at her beloved girl. “I love you too, Phoebe. You know that, right?”
“I do, Mamma. I really do.”
CHAPTER 8
Phoebe and Demetrius exited the hospital and headed back towards Demetrius’s house. Phoebe was smiling broadly, and Demetrius was glad to see his friend so happy, although given her imminent departure her jovial mood grated on him just a little, and he reprimanded himself for being selfish – of course she should be excited to be going home and reuniting with her family, right? Demetrius was genuinely glad for his friend, but he had also hoped that she would be as irked about them being separated as he was. Perhaps he had been wrong to think that she would be as upset as he was, and his pride felt just a little dented.
“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” Demetrius admitted, and smiled sadly at Phoebe. He could hardly imagine not seeing her every day, not having her there to adventure and explore with.
“Aww, I know Dem, I’m going to miss you too – a whole lot! But I have a feeling that we have things to do before I go anywhere…” Phoebe caught hold of her friend’s arm and stopped him in his tracks.
“Sit with me a minute, Dem,” Phoebe said, and Demetrius could see from her face that she wanted to talk. The pair found a large flat stone and sat down together. Phoebe took her time, lapping up the African sunshine, enjoying Demetrius’s presence with her, and the knowledge that her parents were, somehow, alive and well and not buried in a graveyard in Ireland.
“Dem, you trust me, right?” Phoebe was looking her loyal best friend right in the eyes, and knew the answer to her question before Demetrius replied.
“Of course I do, Bird, I trust you more than anyone else I know,” Demetrius studied Phoebe’s face, suddenly nervous. “What’s up, Phoebe? You’ve been acting weird for the last hour or two.”
“This is gonna sound a little, well, odd Dem,” Phoebe hesitated. “I barely know where to begin.”
“It’s okay. Whatever it is Phoebe, you can tell me.”
Phoebe smiled at her friend, took a deep breath, and began to recount the strange events of the last few weeks. She told Demetrius how she and her parents had almost missed their flight, how the plane had gotten into trouble and crashed, how the Quills had taken her in and how she had struggled to come to terms with life without her parents. Demetrius listened intently, his facial expression unchanging except for an almost imperceptible elevation of one eyebrow every now and again. If he thought she was mad, his countenance never betrayed him, and he did not interrupt or tell her to stop being silly.
Phoebe continued with her curious tale. She spoke slowly and concisely, aware how ludicrous it must all sound, but aware too that Demetrius seemed to be taking it all on board. She told him of the angelic beings she was sure had been with her, and how, looking back, there were times that she now suspected they had been there too. Like the time she had fallen from the tree outside the family home, landing badly on her neck. Six year old Phoebe’s parents had been frantic, sure that she had a spinal injury, insisting on rushing her to hospital, but Phoebe had been none the worse for her misadventure. Or the day before her eleventh birthday when a runaway tractor with a blown tyre had swerved at the last second to avoid her, but the shaken farmer swore that he had not been able to make any avoidance manoeuvres.
Phoebe told Demetrius of her mysterious encounter at the crash site, and about her crazy journey back through time via the vortex of light. She was aware just how bizarre her tale was. She probably would never have believed it herself had it not been her own voice that she heard relaying events.
“…and so here I am,” she concluded, “Back where I started, but with another chance. Do you think I’m deluded? Have I lost the plot?” Phoebe looked at Demetrius, hoping that his face would give her some clue as to what was going through his head. She desperately wanted him to tell her that she wasn’t crazy, that he believed every word, and that everything would be alright.
Demetrius didn’t respond straight away. He was obviously gathering his thoughts, taking on board all his friend had jus
t told him, and considering all the possibilities. Phoebe always appreciated this about Demetrius – when she asked for his advice, he never just blabbed out the first thing that came into his head. He would mull things over, thinking long and hard before delivering his considered response. He was wise beyond his years, and Phoebe had the utmost respect for Demetrius’s opinions. But today, she just wanted his reassurance – and sooner rather than later. Finally, after what seemed like forever but what was, in reality, probably just a few moments, Demetrius spoke.
“It’s like this, Phoebe. I believe that there is a world we can’t see, a world outside of ours. I believe that there are angels and there are demons – our protectors and those opposed to them. And I also believe that the Atoner gives His angels instructions to guard us, so when it comes down to it I actually have no problem believing what you have just said. The Atoner must have a job that needs doing, and you’re obviously the girl to do it. The vortex thing – now that is a bit crazy, but hey, who am I to question how the Atoner gets things done?”
A familiar and reassuring grin spread across Demetrius’s face, and Phoebe felt herself relax into a grin of her own.
“Really? You believe me? Just like that? Oh Dem, thank you! What would I do without you?”
“You’d be goosed, Bird. That’s the long and short of it,” grinned Demetrius.
Phoebe gave her friend a playful punch as she jumped to her feet. “Okay, what now? I have no idea why I’m back here and I don’t know how to go about finding out. Demetrius? Dem? Any thoughts?”
Phoebe looked up at her friend and found his eyes fixed ahead of him.
“Finding out what you’re meant to do may not be just as difficult as you think…” said Demetrius in quiet, almost whispered tones. As his voice trailed off, Phoebe saw that his jaw had dropped slightly open and he was gazing intently into the horizon. She followed his gaze and had to plop back down on to the rock in sheer surprise when her eyes locked on to what Demetrius had spotted. There, no more than ten feet away, was a figure – a giant, muscular, glowing figure!
Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light Page 3
