by Anthology
Raphael never gave me the details when transcending the Order, leaving his Ephemeral charges to me. Never reviewed any of his case notes with me before he rushed off, eager to lead his own Cavalry, the sixth of us to do so. He never said anything about Autumn Sullivan being different.
But she was.
And so I climbed into her passenger seat and demanded a ride.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Autumn demanded.
“I can’t very well ride my bike now,” I grouched. As far as she knew, this was true.
She slapped both hands on the wheel and lowered her head so her forehead was touching. “Where, exactly, were you headed?”
I couldn’t end this session. Not yet. With all these roadblocks in her assessment. “Where are you going?”
Autumn lifted her head and gaped at me, blinking. “I asked where you wanted to go.”
“Wherever you’re going.”
“Listen—”
I sensed the can of mace in her purse. You never got used to that sting, no matter how many times it happened.
All right. Course correction.
I rolled my eyes into the back of my head and passed out.
Three – Autumn
Oh, hell.
Did I give him a concussion? A brain bleed? Any other number of unseen killers following a trauma?
The nearest hospital was twenty minutes away in current traffic. But my apartment was only one block. And my hands…
No, stop. You can’t just heal a stranger. You know what could happen.
Screw drawing attention to myself. I did this to him! What if he dies?
You have insurance for that.
You can’t be serious.
Call 9-1-1 and walk away.
I can’t just leave him here!
Don’t forget the Supernatural marathon waiting for you.
“Shut it,” I told the dueling angels yammering on in my brain.
I could not call my mother for advice on this. Since we were old enough to walk and process thought, she had warned my twin brothers and I against using magic. Not because it’s wrong, but because others will see it that way. People fear what they can’t understand or see, and people hurt the things they fear.
What would my brother Aidan say?
Do the right thing, of course. That was his answer to every single one of life’s conundrums, context regardless.
I could afford to be more like Aidan, especially after today.
And there was still that trifling memory in the back of my head attaching itself to Gabriel the moment his face came into full view.
Maybe important, maybe not.
Fifteen minutes later, Gabriel Randolph opened his eyes.
Looking up at me from my couch, he smiled.
Four – Gabriel
Did I ever have words for Raphael!
He had this Ephemeral under his thumb for fifteen years. Fifteen whole years of observing and protecting, of watching her every moment and documenting all things trivial and essential.
No reports of concern had been made to the Order on Autumn Anabella Sullivan. Raphael’s notes had been dry and formulaic. Ephemeral attended school from 07:35 to 15:45. No incidents to report. Over and over. Fifteen years’ worth.
Not a word about her being a shaman. Not a single drop of ink spent on how this particular creature radiated with magic enchantment. When he’d completed his tenure as a recruiter, he’d said simply, Nothing of note, Gabriel.
What else had he failed to mention?
More importantly, did the Order know any of this when they sent me on this mission?
That she could see me was the first confirmation the Ephemeral hadn’t de-manifested. The phenomenon of an Ephemeral losing their powers once the last of their childhood left them was not uncommon. A bicycle accident was the essential first test. My mocking her on everything from her behavior, to not being from the area, and the demand for her address, was all part of appearing human. Should she suspect I was anything other than who I appeared to be, things would go south in a hurry.
Autumn seemed oblivious to who I truly was, but that was only a small consolation.
She was a shaman. And likely many other things as well, ones Raphael also failed to report. I would need to surface these truths before moving forward with my assigned task.
First order of business, though, to address the wide, fearful eyes looking down at me.
“Thank goodness,” Autumn whispered, settling back into the chair beside the couch. She slumped as if she were Atlas shrugging off the weight of the world.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I muttered, watching her, but carefully. How she perceived me in these next few moments would be essential to carrying out my assessment.
“I didn’t mean to crash into you with my car like an idiot.” I raised an eyebrow and started to laugh, but stopped when I observed her crestfallen expression.
“So, basketball.”
“Sorry?”
“That’s what you do here. Play basketball.”
Autumn recoiled slightly. “I’m also a student. I’ll be in law school in the fall. Loyola.”
I studied her. “You seem embarrassed, or perhaps ashamed, to be known for athletics over scholastics. Why is that?”
Her lips twisted. “It isn’t that I’m ashamed, I just don’t like the way you said basketball. As if I wasn’t smart enough to get into college on my intelligence.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to.”
“Surprising is all. You’re not very tall.”
Autumn’s eyes widened. “Neither was Muggsy Bogues.”
There was only so much preparation we could do. “Who?”
“I guess you’re not as a basketball fan.”
I attempted to sit, exaggerating the degree of effort so as not to blow my cover over a small, but important, detail. Autumn lunged forward like a panicked mother, easing me back down.
“You need to rest for a while longer, I think,” she said, her tone unsure. Was she even fully aware of how her healing gift worked? She may very well be wondering why I wasn’t skipping off in perfect health. Hopefully, as yet, some mystery remained to her. I’d need that if I had any hope of getting her to let me stay.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” I answered. Uriel often chided me on my rough delivery with Ephemerals. You act as if you have little more to offer than your quick criticisms. Spend more time in observation. It will only help you as a guardian.
Autumn shrugged, rising. Her hands brushed against the sides of her cardigan, a nervous habit I’d seen hundreds of times in others. “Want some water?”
“I would love some. Thank you.”
She returned and handed me the glass. When she sat down, this time, her posture was less rigid. “So, where do you live?”
“Around.”
“Around? Your ID was military.”
I smiled carefully. “I can’t remember the last time I called a single place home.”
Autumn didn’t take the smile bait. “All right, but where do you go home every night?”
“Truth is…” Not the truth, but atonement would come later. “Nowhere. I’ve been on the open road for some time. Just me and my bike.”
She dropped her head. “And then I wrecked it. God, I’m an asshole.”
Reaching forward, I tucked a bang of her black hair behind her ear. I did this on a whim, a move I immediately recognized as out of character to whom she believed me to be: an eccentric jerk.
Autumn frowned in confusion, then shook her head. As a matter of trade, I typically only noticed the important details in the Ephemerals. Physical qualities that might factor into their future training, such as upper and lower body strength, and perceived quickness. But all at once, I was struck by the flecks of green in her eyes, which were wide and lovely, but rimmed in years of sadness.
Perhaps she was doing this too, influencing changes in my work. She could be an illusioni
st. Planting and manipulating thoughts, changing environment.
Even if she was, I was immune. Just as I’d been immune to the healing she believed she’d given me, and the mind reading she attempted to employ at the scene of the accident.
Even two centuries ago, she’d have been burned at the stake for a glimpse of any one of her gifts. I believed truly, and was not alone in the belief, that our world was heading down this path once again in the not too distant future. The cyclical nature of history repeating itself.
Autumn turned toward the sound of the rain increasing in intensity outside her small apartment. Raindrops clouded the window. I knew what she thought before she said it.
She released a deep, resigned sigh. “You can’t go out in this after what happened. I’ll grab some blankets and you can stay on the couch. I have class tomorrow, but you can lock the door from the inside when you wake up.”
“Thank you, Autumn. Truly.”
Her glance rested on me another moment longer before she dropped her eyes and flipped a switch near the door. The room became shrouded in darkness and shadows.
“Goodnight, Gabriel.”
Five – Autumn
How we went from me hitting the strange man, to the strange man sleeping on my couch, under the same roof, was a mystery not even Agatha Christie was equipped to solve.
What a fine mess! Would this be the aftermath of the accident from earlier, or was another accident on the horizon for me? Maybe he would rape and murder me while I slept in unsuspecting peace?
This could turn out to be the worst judgment of my life yet.
There wasn’t much I could do about it now. The sequence of events had been my fault, so him sleeping on my couch also was. I’d caused this. In the morning, I could walk away feeling satisfied with having done more than my part to remedy the mistake.
Not that I was going to go to sleep without at least letting someone know about my predicament.
AUTUMN: Don’t tell Mom, but I got into another accident today. Hit a dude on a bike this time…
AIDAN: Unreal. A bike? Really?
AUTUMN: Yeah.
AIDAN: And I won’t have to tell her because she’s going to get the insurance hike in a month or two.
AUTUMN: I know. I want to enjoy what little peace I have left while I have it.
AIDAN: Did he die?
AUTUMN: No! If he had died, don’t you think I’d have started with the fact that I’d killed someone?
AIDAN: …
AUTUMN: You have no faith in me.
AIDAN: I guess I should ask if you’re okay.
AUTUMN: Gee, thanks. Physically, I’m fine. Mentally, I might have lost my damn mind because he’s sleeping on my couch.
AIDAN: Sorry, can you say that again? I don’t think I interpreted your level of crazy correctly.
AUTUMN: Uh.
AIDAN: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND?!
AUTUMN: He was hurt, and I didn’t know what else to do.
AIDAN: Call an ambulance? Call the police? Call anyone?
AUTUMN: No.
AIDAN: Wait. You didn’t do something dumb like healing him, did you?”
AUTUMN: Pleading the fifth.
AIDAN: Autumn!
AUTUMN: He wasn’t hurt all that bad, I don’t think, but he passed out in my car and I only had a minute to figure out what to do! We were right near my apartment, so I just took him there.
AIDAN: You need to get him to a doctor in the morning. Having him sleep on your couch is not part of your insurance obligation.
AUTUMN: Yeah, I know. I will.
AIDAN: Why do I think you’re lying?
AUTUMN: Because you’re so much better than I am at life, dear brother.
AIDAN: You’re better at deflecting.
AUTUMN: Anyway, I’m telling you this in case you don’t hear from me in the morning. It means I really screwed up. So, if you don’t get a text by seven tomorrow, you know what to do.
AIDAN: I might do it now. This is such a bad idea. I don’t even have words for how bad.
AUTUMN: Don’t. I don’t need any more drama for tonight. I promise I’ll text when my alarm goes off.
AIDAN: All right. Get some rest, crazy. But if the text comes in at 7:01, the cops are already on their way.
I switched off the bedside lamp, staring into the silent darkness. I couldn’t hear, smell, or sense Gabriel in any tangible way, but his presence hung heavy in my apartment. He might as well have been lying beside me, for as much as his effect lay over my mind.
As he talked earlier, I finally allowed myself to take in the features of his face. I knew his mouth, that perfectly arced smile resembling an eagle at rest. Eyes so pale blue it was difficult to focus on anything else when he spoke. Hair as black as mine, a startling disparity to his high cheekbones set against moonlit skin.
I’d never defined anyone else at this level of detail. But, aside from my mother and Aidan, and, of course, Chad, I’d never spent as much time with anyone else.
I finally knew why Gabriel’s presence had unsettled me. Maybe I’d known the moment he walked over to me after picking himself up off the pavement.
I knew Gabriel. Hell, I’d known him since I was very young.
He’d visited my dreams since then.
Six – Gabriel
Autumn slipped out quietly, but I heard her light steps on the tile floor, how she held her breath as if that would be the difference between waking me and not.
It wouldn’t. I didn’t sleep.
Before I even set out on this task, I’d researched her class schedule. Tuesdays were her full day so she wouldn’t be home until after six. I would have the whole day to meditate and reflect on the way things were going thus far.
Certainly, that did not mean pulling apart every word of our conversation, or interpreting her body language. My task was simple: Since this Ephemeral had reached maturity, determine if she was destined to join the Legion as an acolyte? Or was it time to release her from guardianship and allow her to fumble through life on her own?
The Five Tenants of the Order were simple in declaration, but often more complicated in practice for the seven sent to carry them out:
Assess, but beware of judgment.
Observe, but beware of intruding.
Guide, but beware of influencing.
Protect, but beware of domination.
Love, but beware of attachment.
Assess. Autumn would likely say I’d judged her with my commentary on her current path at school though I had no such intention. I had really only studied her for a day before engineering a meeting.
Observe. Was sleeping on her couch an intrusion? Debatable.
Guide, Protect, Love… we were still miles away from any of those.
Back to assess. She’d not only seen me but accepted my form tangibly by feeling the impact of her car hitting me. Test one. Passed.
Test two was harder to determine. Tenants dictated that an Ephemeral chosen for the Legion would warm up to their guardian in a near immediate manner. Any initial tension or awkwardness of their meeting would be forgotten, almost as if it had never existed at all. A deus ex machina of the fates.
My experience, though, had not always matched this directive. Nine hundred and ninety-nine recruits I’d evaluated, and all six I’d chosen so far required days to earn their trust. Perchance I’d have finished my recruiting sooner, had I not enjoyed the challenge these six provided. And in the end, that trial had paid off, granting me with the most talented. They, along with the acolytes of the other half dozen guardians, awaited me. Anticipating the seventh to select his seventh.
Autumn tracked to be my seventh and final recruit, symbolic in many ways, but most importantly a signal of my own long-earned accomplishment. A chance to lead my very own cavalry for the Legion, filled with all the blessed and talented souls I’d enlisted over the millennia.
I was the last of the guardians to finish. The others chided me for my stubbornness, claiming my standards trans
cended reality. Michael, the first to choose his seven, had four thousand years on me. Raphael was the only other holdout, and now he, too, was gone.
My soul sagged, weary of the chase, ready for the reward.
But I would only do so for the right Ephemeral.
As of yet, my assessment of Autumn determined she was guarded in nature, damaged in spirit, and more powerful than most of the Ephemerals I’d come across during my years of searching.
The peculiar way she studied me when she thought I wasn’t aware, unnerved me. Not fear, as would be healthy in her predicament. Not anger, or hostility, at the way I’d treated her on the road. Something else. An item I could not put my finger on the pulse of, but would become important. Of this I was certain.
With the previous six, there was always, always a moment. A single strand in the fabric of time where I knew they would be in my cavalry. An instinct, or inkling, they were not like the others I’d walked away from in the end.
I closed my eyes, returning to meditation.
Seven – Autumn
Skipping classes altogether might have been a better plan. I recalled nothing at all from the day if it didn’t happen in my own head.
Tonight, I would have to study. Finals were next week and, per usual, I’d done very little to prepare. In my defense, I had always performed better under pressure, whether in academics or on the court. But Gabriel’s presence in my life was not the kind of distraction I’d intended.
I first saw him on my seventh birthday. I know I said he visited in my dreams, but I use that word because there’s not a better one to describe how he would appear. Vision, perhaps, but even that sells the experience short.
While sitting on the back patio with my mother and brothers, Aidan had just ripped open his new train set, and I was preparing to tear apart what I was fairly certain would be a Barbie convertible. Chad, as usual, had opened his in a flash. Before I could tug at the corners of the meticulously wrapped gift, I saw a man standing in the gazebo, raising the fresh bloom of a bird of paradise to his nose. Sensing I had spotted him, he stopped and smiled. Then he waved.
