Sparrow Man

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Sparrow Man Page 25

by M. R. Pritchard


  Sparrow stands in the middle of the room now, arms crossed, looking very imposing.

  “What?” I snap at him.

  His shoulders tense. “I don’t like sleeping at my place, alone.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t like having the shit scared out of me and getting yelled at first thing in the morning.”

  His eyes flit towards the open balcony doors, which I’m assuming he came in through. “I have training today.”

  “Sorry for you.”

  “What will you do today?”

  I shrug. “Don’t know. Maybe speak with Gabriel. I have questions for him.”

  “Will you come see me? I’ll be at the barracks behind the castle.”

  “Don’t they have rules against visitors showing up while you’re working?” I ask.

  “Don’t care.” He walks towards me in a few long strides, bends, and places a quick kiss on my cheek before heading for the balcony. He gives a grin. “Stay out of trouble, Meg.” And with one powerful thrust that sends the curtains billowing in the air, he flies away.

  Opening the door, my eyes immediately focus on Teari standing in the hallway, pacing. She turns and before she can say one word I tell her, “Take me to Gabriel.”

  “Very well. Follow me.”

  She leads me down long hallways with towering windows that let in the bright light of this place. I shield my eyes with my hand.

  …

  King Gabriel sits at a dining room chair, his chin thoughtfully resting on the curve of his fingers, his shoulders curved and stiff. Rodin’s Thinker in the flesh. As Teari lets the door slam closed behind us, he startles.

  “Ah,” Gabriel stands, his dark blue robes billowing about him. “Meg.” And as if he senses something is off, he frowns, waves Teari out of the room and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “The darkness,” I step towards Gabriel, my hand on my chest. “I feel wrong here.”

  Gabriel nods, crosses the room and takes both of my hands in his, “Your soul seeks answers, closure. That is all.” He looks me over. “Tell me, Meg, who raised you?”

  “A man named John Lewis.” I find it hard to control the shudder that runs through me at the mentioning of his name. “He turned into a demon when he died.”

  Gabriel sighs. “I wish I could have done things differently. Clea would still be alive.”

  “Clea, that was her name?”

  He nods.

  Clea… the name rolls around in my head and brings forth an image of dandelions and warm sunshine. I never had the courage to ask John Lewis what her name was. Remembering that I met John in Hell when he died, I ask, “If my mother died, where did she go?”

  “What do you mean, child?”

  “This is Heaven, she was an angel, where did she go?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “She was a different kind of angel. Her soul was never released from the earthen planes. Somewhere, down there, she rests. Wherever John Lewis hid her.”

  I pull the picture out of my back pocket; stare at it for a second before showing it to Gabriel. “Is this her?”

  He smiles warmly. “Yes.” He runs one large finger across the picture, clears his throat, and looks down at me. “You must find her. You must set things right. Only then will you quell that feeling of loss for her.”

  “I can go? Just like that?”

  “You don’t need my permission.” Gabriel walks back to his chair and sits.

  “But Teari-”

  He waves one large hand, dismissing my words. “Teari has a big head sometimes. Go whenever you like. But I would recommend taking Sparrow with you.”

  “Yeah… suppose I should.” I turn to leave, but stop. “Gabriel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where can I get a pair of sunglasses?”

  “Sunglasses?”

  “This place, it’s too bright. Hurts my eyes.”

  He snaps his fingers and a pair of dark glasses appear on the table.

  I reach for them. “Thanks,” I say as I leave the room.

  Wandering the castle, it takes far too long for me to finally find the front door and follow the glistening sidewalks around the back to the barracks.

  …

  Rounding the castle takes approximately fifteen minutes of walking. I descend what seems like one-thousand stone steps towards the barracks. It looks like a football field, all green shimmering grass, wooden stands and a large stone building. There is a group of men standing around and as I walk I pick Sparrow out of the bunch. He’s the tallest and his disheveled brown hair seems to glisten in the light of this place.

  One long arm reaches up and waves at me. The men split into groups of two, a horn sounds, and then it’s dirt clouding the air, mixed with feathers and grunts and groans. They’re all fighting.

  I run down the rest of the steps, towards the sideline. A horn sounds, they stop. A loud voice yells, “Break.”

  A figure jogs towards me. I recognize Sparrow. He’s covered in scrapes, bruises and there’s a tear in his shirt.

  “Hey.” He smiles at me.

  “This is your job?” I ask. “Wrestling in the dirt?”

  He shrugs. “Training. You have to practice with the best to learn how to fight the worst.” He presses his fingers to a cut on his cheek. “Come on,” he tugs at my hand. “I have a short break. I’ll show you my place.”

  “So you found your house?” I ask.

  He grins. “Yeah, on the second try. Someone wasn’t very happy with me last night.”

  We walk behind the barracks to a winding path, past a few small houses and into the forest. He leads me up the front steps of a stone house and opens the door.

  “You live here?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  It’s no bigger than an apartment. Sparsely decorated and surprisingly clean. Sparrow heads for the sink, turns the water on and washes his hands before reaching for a towel and cleaning the dirt off of his face.

  “What do you think?” he asks, turning towards me.

  “It’s not a castle but it will do,” I tease him.

  Sparrow laughs, reaches out and pulls me to him, pressing his lips to mine, his hands running up the back of my shirt and pressing me closer to him. And, like always, I melt into him like I never have with another man.

  Abruptly, he pushes me away and inhales a deep breath. “We have to stop,” Sparrow groans, adjusting my shirt.

  “Why?”

  “Gabriel sees everything in his Kingdom.” He steps back and adjusts his pants.

  “He can see through walls?”

  “Something like that.”

  “He gave me permission to leave and find my mother. Come with me.”

  “Now?” he asks.

  “Yes. I have to figure this out.”

  “Meg, I can’t go now. I have the rest of the day to train and test. I have to go back to the barracks. Let’s wait until tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “I asked you not to go without me.”

  “You give me no choice. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Wait! You can’t go without me. We have to go together.”

  “I’ve done this whole thing, this life and living thing, I’ve done it alone for this long.”

  “And that’s exactly why you need to wait for me.”

  “Be back soon.” Leaning forward, I kiss his chin. “I promise.”

  In a flash, I’m gone.

  …

  In my mind’s eye I follow her image, moving quickly from place to place. I focus, poof. It seems everywhere I go she is never there, earth and Hell and Heaven. I find just bits and pieces, a whisper of smoke of who she was. Tiny shards of her essence. I follow them, an internal pull bringing me closer to the parts that are stronger. I hear a gasp in one place, a thud in another, a scream in yet another. Having no idea where I emerge, keeping my eyes closed, I connect the dots of who she was in every place that she’s ever been. The feeling of her gets stronger and stronger, tugging at the so
ul within me until I stop, open my eyes, focus on the patch of grass in front of me, the broken down trailer to my left, the sound of an airplane flying overhead. I am home, the broken down trailer I shared with John Lewis. The brightness lets me know I am in the human realm.

  Standing in the backyard, something is calling me, deep from under that dirt. Something is calling me to dig.

  I run for the shed, push the old rusted yard tools around until I find a shovel. Returning to that spot in the yard, I dig.

  There is the fresh scent of broken grass, the metallic earthy smell of the soil as I dig and toss it into a pile. I dig and dig, that feeling in my center growing stronger. Placing my foot on the spade, pushing down with every muscle in my body, the shovel hits something. I move the dirt, drop to my hands and knees, press my fingers into the moist soil and find a fabric buried under there. Pulling, brushing the soil away, tugging with all my strength, the earth releases whatever treasure it was trying to hide.

  I fall back. Soil sprays over me. A sack lands near the hole I’ve dug. Sitting up, I reach for the old burlap and untie the twine at the top. Opening the bag, I reach in and pull out a skull. There are other bones in there, long ones, tiny ones, broken ribs and vertebrae. It is a skeleton in a bag.

  I hold the skull in front of my face and whisper, “I found you, mother. Now I will return you home.”

  Leaving the hole in the yard, poof, I return to Gabriel’s Kingdom.

  …

  King Gabriel sits at a dining room chair, still Rodin’s Thinker.

  He turns as I appear and holding the dusty bag out to him, I say, “I found her! Clea, my mother. I found her! I brought her back so you can bring her back to life.” As I advance towards him, dirt falls off of my clothes and out of my hair.

  Gabriel frowns. “I cannot bring her back.”

  “But you did with Sparrow. You brought him back. Made him alive again.”

  “Yes, but she did not originate here.” He motions to the soil-covered sack with a sorrow I cannot ignore.

  “Then where do I bring her? How do I make this right? I have to free her soul. I have to see her. I have to tell her I’m sorry. It was my fault that she died!”

  As Gabriel stares at me, he tips his chin, his blue eyes blazing into mine. “It was the greed of the damned that killed her. Not you. But… Hell. The Burning Caves…”

  I gasp. “Her father-”

  “Lucifer.” Gabriel finishes my thought.

  In an instant I know where I have to go, what I have to do. Poofing to Sparrow’s house, I let myself in to collect him and bring him with me.

  “Sparrow?” I ask and hear the sound of quiet words being spoken.

  “She left you,” a soft voice says.

  “No, she didn’t,” Sparrow replies.

  “Looks to me like she did.”

  Walking towards the sound, I reach the threshold of his bedroom. Sparrow stands facing a window, shoulders sagging. There is a large gash across his back, glistening with blood.

  “She knows you can’t follow her, and her type. This is why we don’t get involved with humans. They’re not like us. They break hearts. She ruined you once already.”

  Teari lays her hand on his bare shoulder. She bends, pressing her lips to his neck.

  My heart stops beating.

  It is very hard for me not to punch her in her beautiful face right now. Forget the fact that she towers over me by almost a foot. If she were standing closer to me, I would have tried. But instead, poof, I take my broken heart and return to Hell and the tree I sat in and waited for Jim to retrieve me from not so long ago.

  Stupid of me to think that things could have been different, that I could have deserved different. It seems Sparrow lied to me. There are things that can hurt me very much from within the Seven Kingdoms of Heaven.

  ……

  Sparrow

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” I push Teari away from me.

  The front door slams and the house is filled with the sounds of one very angry person headed my way. Teari’s eyes widen and we both turn to watch a flaming mad King Gabriel storm into the room.

  “What the hell!” Gabriel leers over me. “Where are your fucking clothes?”

  Lifting my hand, I wave the shirt at him. He spins, pointing one very large index finger at Teari. “She saw you. Both of you. And whatever the hell you were doing here.” Leaning close to me, he pinches his finger and thumb together. “I am thisclose to sending you back to Hell.” He spins. “And you! You want to go back to your Father’s Kingdom? I gave you refuge here. I protected you. And I forbid you from going near Sparrow. Your actions are forbidden, you know this.”

  “He was injured,” Teari retorts.

  “I don’t give a crap! You two are in deep shit. And I swear to God you both better fix it! She came for your help, Sparrow, just like I told her. Just like you asked her. And she walked in on this… whatever the hell you two are doing. Now, Meg is sitting outside the Burning Caves, alone.”

  My gut drops in that second. She barely survived her first visit to the Burning Caves. And it’s been a few days, Jim’s father will have recruited new Hellions to replace the ones we killed, he’ll want revenge. And what better revenge than a child for a child.

  ……

  woodsmoke and pine and true blood

  As I sit in the tree contemplating my first move, it’s not long before the small hairs on the back of my neck start to rise, sending a tingling sensation down my spine. Turning, I see the half burned face of Jim watching me.

  “You’re dead,” I tell Jim.

  He smiles, lopsided, half of his face looking like it’s melting off. “Not quite.” Just as he speaks, seven forms step out of the shadows.

  Oh shit, Hellions.

  “But the Legion, they killed you all.” I start to move higher into the tree to get away from them.

  “Ah, Meg,” Jim starts, “Something they forgot to tell you about. We have a Treaty. One realm is not allowed to fully decimate another realm’s policing force. They didn’t kill us all. No matter how much bad we do, they can’t take us all. And lucky for you, I always have a stash of Hellions waiting for their turn at the action.”

  As I climb, the bones rattle in the burlap sack. Jim tips his head, focusing on the bag.

  “What have you got there, Meg?”

  Ignoring him, I climb higher.

  “Oh, Meg,” he starts in a sing-song voice. “Dear, sweet, little, Meg. What have you got in that bag?”

  Gripping the top branch, holding tight, I watch in dread as Jim runs, kicks his feet out sideways and rams into the tree trunk. The entire tree jolts. I try to remember the words Sparrow taught me, so I can poof out of here, back to someplace safe. But I can’t focus. My heart is beating too fast, my arms shaking.

  “Get her down, boys!” Jim shouts.

  And then the tree is jerking and swaying. I twist the twine that holds the sack closed around my wrist, just as one of the largest Hellions runs full force into the aging tree. With a horrible cracking sound, the tree begins to tip. I scratch at the branches, try to hold on, but, I fall.

  The feeling of weightlessness lasts only a second before the gravity of Hell smacks me hard against the ground. And then all I feel is the breath rushing from my lungs, an ache in my head, and hands grabbing onto me. They grab my arms, my legs, start dragging me.

  “NO!” I scream, tasting blood in my mouth. “NO! NO! NO!” I try to kick, but my legs don’t seem to be working as well as they did before the fall. Turning my head, I search for the bag containing my mother’s bones, relieved when I find them still tied to my wrist.

  “Got someone who wants a word with you,” Jim says.

  Trying to look between the large legs of the Hellions, I see his form behind us, following. Jesus, I should have waited for Sparrow, even if he was screwing around with Teari. At least I could have had some help down here. Struggling, trying to pull my arms out of their hands, they enter the burning cave.


  Woodsmoke and pine. I don’t think I will ever get over the fact that the caves of Hell smell so pleasant. I don’t get to experience the scent for long. Ripping my arms out of their grasp, my shoulders hit the floor, and then my head. A darkness clouds my vision, the shouts of Jim fill my ears before a harsh ringing takes over and then… nothing.

  …

  As I open my eyes, I find a large man staring down at me with black as night eyes and matching hair. He’s wearing what looks like a leather vest and matching pants, and the wings that rise from behind his shoulders are darker than the shadows at night. The room is cavernous with a large fireplace in the corner, bookshelves, altar, and a large leather chair with a coffee table.

  Clenching the bag tight in my fist, I start to whisper, “Angele Dei, illumina, custodi-”

  The man smiles. “You know Latin, granddaughter?” His voice is so deep it rumbles in my chest.

  Granddaughter? Oh, Lucifer, in the flesh. I shake my head; stop when I feel a sharp throb. “No.”

  “Those words you speak, where did you learn them?”

  “From a friend. It’s nothing.”

  “Sounded like something. Sounded like you were about to do something spectacular!” He takes an intimidating step towards me. “Would you like to see what happens when I speak those words? Would you like to see what happens when I pray to the Lord in Heaven?”

  Scrambling to my feet, I take two steps back. “No.”

  He stops moving, his focus moves to the vee of my legs. His head tips. Brow furrows for just an instant. “You have the ouroboros.”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  “Yes.” He points towards my thigh. “Little circular mark, uneven, looks like a snake eating its own tail.”

  My head tips, mirroring him, as I recall what the birthmark looks like. There is a mark, a small break in the circle of the mark, a V tipped on its side, it could very well be a mouth.

  “Haha!” he laughs, claps his hands loudly and his dark wings spread wide, taking up the width of the room.

 

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