Alexander stood back from the door, gesturing him to come inside. They both moved to the living room, joining Jerome on the sofas. The angel was surprised to see their visitor was the Councilor, normally they didn’t leave the council building unless they had a message to deliver. The last message they had received was a summons to present the human, it only brought back terrible memories.
“Jerome, it’s good to see you again.” Ambrosia nodded, acknowledging the angel as he took a seat. Alexander sat on the armchair, not getting comfortable. You could never relax around a council member – never.
“I wish I could say the same,” Jerome replied grumpily. He noticed the stern look he received from Alexander for his efforts. He would probably get another lecture after their visitor left.
Ambrosia nodded. “I can understand your hesitation about welcoming me into your home. I’m sorry for everything that happened with the whole human thing.”
Jerome stood, not wanting to hear anything the Councilor had to say. There were no amount of words that could make up for what the council did. Absolutely nothing.
“I need to talk to you both,” Ambrosia said quickly, almost pleadingly as he realized the angel wasn’t prepared to listen. “Please, it’s important.”
Jerome stared him down, trying not to remember being back in that meeting and seeing the smug look on all their faces as they dished out their punishment. They should have thanked Leila, not forced her to make an impossible decision. He would never forgive them for that. Nor would he forget.
“You’ve got two minutes,” he finally replied but didn’t resume his seat. He wanted to make sure the man knew he was serious.
Ambrosia licked his lips, scrambling to find the words he wanted to say. “I’m trying to rally support and I think you will be very interested in what I’ve got to say.”
“One minute…”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the grumbles in the village, no-one is happy with the council at the moment,” he spoke quickly, much faster than he usually did. “I want to change that. I want to overthrow them.”
Jerome was surprised to hear those words come from his mouth. He was right, nobody was happy with the council but he didn’t think anyone would be brave enough to actually do anything about it. Especially one of them.
“I’m listening.” Jerome resumed his seat on the sofa.
“We need affirmative action and we need it now. I can bring a revolution to the village, I know I can do it. I just need enough support and we can get things done.”
“What makes you think you can do any better?” Alexander asked. “Why would we risk everything just on your word?”
Ambrosia tore his eyes away from Jerome to face his friend. “Because I’ve already proven myself to be someone that fixes things. I get things done when no-one else will even entertain ideas.”
Jerome was confused. “How? What have you done?”
“I sent you to Earth, didn’t I?” Ambrosia leaned back on the sofa, his wings spread out at his back. “I think that shows I’m worthy of your support.”
Jerome’s mouth hung open in disbelief. He had always suspected someone had made him fall to Earth and therefore set the wheels in motion for him to end the war. Ambrosia was the one councilor he had begged to allow the humans to join in the fight. He had refused him at the time but he always thought he might have had a hand in his fall.
It wasn’t so much Ambrosia’s confession that had surprised Jerome, but the fact he had admitted to it. When they were summoned to the council and forced to suffer a punishment for their actions, Ambrosia should have been sitting on their side of the table and ordered to do penance too. He shouldn’t have been the one dishing it out.
“Why didn’t you tell the council that? You could have done something about our punishment,” Jerome started, trying not to let his anger build. “How could you do that to us?”
“Because I had to think of the bigger picture. I wasn’t ready to take over then, I am now. You came to me demanding the council get the humans involved. And I did that. I saved the angels.”
“Leila saved the angels,” he corrected him.
“The human killed Septuses, correct. Can I count on your support?” Ambrosia looked at them expectantly. Clearly the impact of what he had done was completely lost on him.
“I think you’re brave for doing something,” Jerome started, standing again. “But I think you are a coward for remaining silent at our joke of a trial. Leila suffers because of you, I cannot forgive that. Nor can I support you.”
He walked away, his grey wings bobbing with the movement. He walked up the stairs to the second storey and found his bedroom. Closing the door, he wanted the solitude of being alone. He lay on the bed, trying to will the world to go away.
So Ambrosia was planning on overtaking the council. At least someone was doing something, but how effective was he going to be? As far as Jerome knew, Ambrosia wasn’t exactly the most popular of angels in the village. He would have to rally a lot more support to be able to pull it off.
A soft knocking on the door made him groan. “Go away.”
It opened anyway as Alexander peeked inside. He took a seat on the armchair in the corner. “Ambrosia shouldn’t be doing this, the council is going to eat him alive when they find out.”
“Someone needs to do something. We have to rebuild the village and get more angels out there,” Jerome was sucked into the conversation, as much as he didn’t want to. “More humans will die if they don’t.”
“I agree. But it shouldn’t be Ambrosia.”
Jerome sat up, trying to work out what his friend was on about. “Ambrosia’s as good as anyone.”
“No, he’s not. It shouldn’t be him,” Alexander repeated, stalwart in his opinion.
“If you’re so smart, who should it be then?”
“You.”
Jerome lay back down again, he wasn’t going to have a bar of it. “I’m not getting involved.” What he didn’t add, but said in his head was: ‘I’d only stuff it up’.
Alexander stood. “Think about it. You’ll realize I’m right.”
He watched him go in the reflection from the window, refusing to look at him. Alexander didn’t know what he was talking about. Perhaps once, Jerome would have had the guts to do it, but not anymore. He couldn’t even protect Leila from the council, he was useless.
Even more stressed than he was before, Jerome decided to go to the one place where he could pretend everything was better. He flashed down to Leila, vowing he would keep his distance this time. He couldn’t touch her again, he was already walking on a very fine line.
Leila was in her bedroom, the room given to her by the Sinclairs. She was snug in her bed, sitting up and holding her knees to her chest over the blankets. She appeared to be staring into the darkness.
Jerome sat on the wooden seat in the room, the only other piece of furniture apart from the built in wardrobe. He grimaced when it creaked under his weight, he hoped Leila hadn’t noticed.
“Is someone there?” She asked into the dark, making Jerome hold his breath in case he made any further noise. She looked directly at the chair as if waiting for an answer. The angel knew she couldn’t see him but it didn’t stop him feeling uncomfortable at the scrutiny. He questioned whether he should have returned.
“I know someone is there. Is it you Mom? Dad?”
The sadness pouring out of her made Jerome’s heart clench. He hated seeing her in such a state. He knew she had lost her family in a fiery attack on her family home, much like how he lost his own. He wished he could take away her pain.
“I’m glad you are here, I miss you every day,” Leila continued to the empty room. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep going without you. I feel so alone, so empty. How do I do this?”
“I’ll help you,” Jerome answered, wishing she could hear him in return. “I’m always going to protect you.”
“I almost got hurt today, was it you that saved me?”
“I wo
uldn’t let anything hurt you, Leila.”
A single tear streaked down her face. “I wish I could hear you, I can feel that you’re near. Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“I promise, never.”
“I know I’m missing something. I don’t know what it is, I’m assuming it’s you, but I have no idea what’s going on anymore,” she sighed, settling further into the bed. She felt hollow and empty, like there was a big part of her that was a gaping hole and she didn’t know what it would take to make her whole again.
She had hoped it would be filled by her work with the town, if she distracted herself enough she might make the pain fade away. But even after six months, nothing had changed. No amount of time she spent working was closing the gap. It still remained, no matter what she did.
Leila lay down, pulling the blankets to her chin. “Please help me,” she whispered before closing her eyes.
Jerome watched as her breathing become rhythmic as she finally fell asleep. He didn’t dare move and cause the chair to make another noise. He had already crossed too many lines that day already, his list of offences couldn’t keep growing. At some stage, the council would notice. If they hadn’t already.
When she was comfortably asleep, Jerome shifted his weight slightly and slowly. He laid his head against the wall and closed his own eyes. He would rather sleep in Leila’s hard wooden chair than return to the hostel. She was home.
By the time morning came, Jerome had to stretch his limbs to make them work again. Leila was already dressed and ready to leave by the time he caught up with her.
“I’ll see you in town,” she called out to Toby, who was still finishing his breakfast. He waved her on, a mouthful of food preventing him from replying.
Leila didn’t drive, she didn’t have her license but that wasn’t the real reason preventing her from doing so. There were barely any cars that had survived the violence and destruction. Those that remained found it difficult to find fuel. The best way to get around now was by bicycle. Leila jumped on hers and started peddling.
She liked the way the wind felt on her face when she raced along the largely deserted roads. She felt like she was flying and free, her problems momentarily forgotten. Sometimes she would ride for hours by herself just to have the experience. She didn’t know why she loved the feeling so much, she had never enjoyed cycling before.
It took close to twenty minutes to get into the centre of Aron. Leila biked right up to the city’s largest museum and deftly dismounted. She took her bike inside, guiding the handlebars as she walked. The violence in the world had settled down, but there was still petty theft. She didn’t trust anyone, doubted whether she ever would again.
Inside, Leila looked around and surveyed the work she had overseen to date. The museum and library had been her pet projects, she had put everything she had into rebuilding them.
When she had summoned enough courage to survey the damage in full, the task of rebuilding had seemed like moving a mountain. She wanted to walk out again, lock the doors, and never come back. But instead she had focused on moving a brick on the floor. Then another, and another until she had cleared a whole display. Looking around again, she could only see the steps of rebuilding instead of the entire task.
Whenever Leila helped someone in the community, she never asked for anything in return except their time in helping with the museum. An hour for an hour, that was the deal.
When people started turning up in droves, nobody took any notice of the clock. More and more people arrived every day until Leila had too many to deal with. She had to spend time organizing their efforts, drawing up a plan to ensure they were all working in the same direction. One entire floor of the museum was already restored. Many of the exhibitions were lost forever and stood empty, destroyed by someone who would never be brought to justice, but they would find something else to fill it with. The basement of the museum was largely untouched, they would find a new exhibition before they reopened.
Because of her passion for restoring the buildings, everyone looked to Leila as the leader. Nobody questioned her authority or her reason for being there. She didn’t know the first thing about running the museum, but someone had to do it so why not her? It kept her mind occupied.
“Good morning, Leila.” The voice belonged to Reece Nolan as he waved cheerily to her from the door. “You’re here early.”
“So are you,” she replied with equal enthusiasm. She stole a glance at the guy, his light brown hair was clinging to his brow with a thin layer of sweat. He was taller than she was, but only by a few inches. If she was forced to admit it, she would have to say he was good looking.
“So what are we working on today?”
She consulted her notebook where she kept her plans for the rebuild. Soon there would be a legion of people turning up and asking the same question, she had to be prepared.
“We’re going to start on the second floor. I need people working in the cafeteria and also the medieval art gallery, take your pick.”
Reece put his hand underneath his chin, pretending to think over his options long and hard. “Which one are you going to be working on?”
“Probably the art gallery once everyone shows up.”
“I think I’ll take the art gallery then,” he grinned. “See you up there.”
Leila returned his smile as he started up the large set of stairs to the upper floor. All up, the museum had five floors. There wasn’t one that had remained untouched by looters or those bent on causing destruction just for the sake of it.
She waited until the rest of the volunteers arrived and were directed to their assigned tasks. It was a good turnout, more than three dozen people had shown up. She let them know where to find her and headed upstairs herself. If anyone else turned up to help, they would be sent her way.
She stood in the entrance to the medieval art gallery and surveyed the damage. Every painting was on the floor, some were still intact. She wondered whether there would be any art restorers left in Aron that would be willing to help. She made a note in her book to follow it up.
The volunteers were picking up the artworks one by one and stacking them on one side of the room. They would have to be fixed before they were re-hung. The walls would probably need to be repainted before then too. In the middle of the far wall was a gaping hole where someone had thrown a chair against it. The metal chair still hung there, stuck.
Leila joined Reece, grabbing the other end of a particularly large piece. “It’s a great turnout today.”
“Everyone wants to help,” he replied. “We all want to see this place reopened.”
“Perhaps everything will seem more normal then.”
“Maybe.”
Leila hoped so. She didn’t know what it was going to take but everything helped. Perhaps she would also find whatever she was missing to make her life complete again.
Jerome stood by, wishing he could help them. His strength could be put to good use and have the work done in half the time. Yet instead he had to stand around and do nothing but watch. He had never felt so useless.
He also didn’t like the human she called Reece. He irked him and he loathed the way the boy looked at Leila. He was certain his thoughts were not pure.
“I forgot to ask you, my friends are having this party. It’s not much, just a small get together,” Reece shrugged, trying to play it down. “I was wondering if you wanted to come? You know, if you’re not busy.”
“I don’t know…” Leila let her words trail off, not knowing why. Reece was a nice guy but she wasn’t in the mood to socialize. She didn’t know whether she would just bring everyone down.
“Think about it, it’s this Saturday at eight. You know where I live.” Reece squeezed her arm and left her, picking up a broom to clean the area they had just cleared.
Leila watched him go, thinking. She didn’t know what was holding her back. She left the gallery and checked on the progress in the cafeteria.
“Good morning, Leila,” one
of the volunteers greeted her.
“Morning, Niall. Everything under control in here?”
He gave her a big smile. “Sure is.”
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Leila said as she ran her fingers along the counter.
The cafeteria had been largely raided for whatever food and cooking supplies it held. As far as damage though, it was relatively unscathed. It would just need a serious cleaning. The volunteers were doing a good job and getting on with it.
She left them without interfering, not comfortable giving orders for them to do something a particular way. Who was she to tell them to scrub a certain way?
Avoiding the gallery room, Leila kept walking. She decided to head up to the third level and see what she could put on the agenda for the next volunteering day.
She found herself standing in the middle of the Ancient Greece exhibition. Or what was left of it anyway. Like all the displays, the ones there were also badly damaged and splayed across the floor. But for some reason, this one seemed to hurt the most.
Picking up the remains of a statue, she placed the broken pieces back together. A bit of glue and it would be passable as a relic again. Nothing would be in the same condition as it had been before. The thought saddened her like nothing else. There wasn’t one thing in the world that was the same anymore. Not one thing.
Looking closer at the face of the statue, something tugged at her memory. She had seen it before but didn’t know where. A strong sense of déjà vu overcame her. Had she seen the statue before? She shook her head, it looked like any other carved face in the museum.
“The Statue of Ananke,” she said aloud to the empty room, reading the words imprinted on the base. Shrugging, she gently placed it back on the exhibit floor. She would find some glue and return to fix it sometime later. She moved on to the next bit of rubble.
Jerome watched on silently, making sure to stay well away from the human. He remembered the last time they were in that room, spending hours upon hours searching for a clue about the prophecy. They had spent their entire time talking while they toiled away. In a way, he wished they were back there again. At least then they could speak.
Angel's Uprising Page 2
