His wings slip from his shoulders onto the ground like liquid silk. He looks down at the sword, which is still ignited with a heavenly fire, the slender flames lapping upward. As if exhausted by it, he releases the sword, allowing it to fall to the earth. It lands with a metallic clang. The flames disperse, leaving only the writing glowing a soft amber. As I watch the etching cool and fade, I am reminded of what was said to me in the shop. Only one can wield the sword. I dare not think of what this means.
“I thought I lost you,” Ashur says, his voice marred by grief. “How?”
I lift the broken locket from my neck and give it to Ashur. “I guess this charm wasn’t useless after all.”
He examines it. “There is a legend that the clay man Adam had such a charm when he faced Sorath in the last battle. It contained a stolen lock of Sorath’s hair, and was given him by one who loved him dearly to protect him. Someone must have truly loved you to give you such a powerful protection.”
“It was my mother,” I say. “I guess she’s still looking after me.” I take the locket back from him and place it in my pocket. In my heart I thank her for saving me.
Ashur takes me under his arm and helps me to the steps of the church. The entrance opens and the townspeople start pouring out into the street. One of them points to the sky. “Look,” they exclaim.
We watch as fiery beings descend from the sky and stand before the church. They are all dressed in battle array and wielding sabers emanating light. One of them sheaths his weapon and walks forward. He looks young like Ashur, but then again, they all look that way. Ashur seems to know him and warmly greets him with arms embraced. The angel looks over the carnage left behind from Sorath and the clay men. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he says.
“This is Mallek,” Ashur says, introducing us. “He is Lord Commander of the Flies, the flying legions of angels that protect the outer reaches of the heavenly realm.”
He offers his hand. “I’m Kyra,” I say as I take it to shake, but he scoops my hand and kisses it instead, and then kneels before me. “I know exactly who you are. We all do.” He sweeps his hand in a motion panning across the legions of angels. They all bow in turn. “Thou art Eve’s daughter.”
I blush, though I try not to. Regaining my composure, I say, “Do they introduce themselves to all women this way.”
“Just the special ones,” says Ashur.
Mallek stands. “Not to part you from your guardian,” he says, “but we must discuss the situation of the town.”
Ashur looks at me with concern. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll look after her,” Ethan interjects.
This doesn’t sit well with Ashur, but he concedes. “Don’t let anything happen to her,” he says.
Mallek and Ashur leave to talk out of ear shot. The townspeople walk past gawking at the spectacle of the angels. “Liv would have loved seeing this. I hope she is alright.”
“I’m sure she is fine,” Ethan says.
I smile in agreement. “You said you were going to explain this whole you being alive thing.”
“It is difficult to explain.”
“I know about the Anathema—about what people say they are. And I know you are not evil.”
“Who told you about the Anathema?”
I realize what it would mean to admit who aided me, so I say nothing. “It is difficult to explain,” I say, hoping this will defer his questions. “So the whole thing about your family dying, was that true?”
“Yes,” Ethan replies. “My family was killed some 600 hundred years ago. I was a farmer in a small village, married to a young maiden. I even had a child—a daughter.”
The thought of Ethan having a wife and child is strange to me. “What happened?”
“I returned one evening from hunting in the woods and they were dead. They had been killed by a beast.” His face betrays his bitterness toward the memory.
“I’m sorry.”
“I vowed to find the beast and kill it. It’s all I ever…” The edge of his mouth curls in disgust. “It’s all I ever thought about. Despite the objection of the villagers, I went after the beast.”
“Did you find it?”
“Yes.”
“And you killed it?”
“No,” he says. There is shame in his voice. “I was only able to wound it. But that was enough. The beast was cursed with a curse that whoever harmed it would also share in the curse. So I became Anathema. And I’ve been wandering the Earth ever since.”
“Is there any way to end the curse?”
“No one seems to know. At least no one I have found.”
“Maybe Ashur can help,” I exclaim. If anyone knew of a cure surely the angels would. I stand, ready to tell Ashur, but Ethan pulls me back.
“No,” he says, sternly. “Ashur must never know that I am Anathema.”
“Why? He can help.”
“He is an angel. They do not trust the Anathema. To them, we are the enemy.”
“But Ashur is different,” I say.
“Are you sure about that?”
I say nothing, but only look on at Ashur speaking with Mallek. They seem to be arguing about something. Mallek glances over at me, almost as if I am the subject of their conversation. In my heart, I believe Ashur is different. That he would not condemn Ethan so easily. But I can’t be sure. Another thought comes even more biting. Ashur can’t stay with me.
Seeing my distress, Ethan says, “I don’t mean to make you doubt him. It’s not his fault. He is an angel. He only knows what he has been told by the council.”
Ashur finishes his conversation with Mallek. The two part. Mallek returns with his legions and together they ascend, each lifting off the ground in a wave. They rise only a few feet before vanishing in a brilliance of light. Ashur returns to my side. “The clay men have agreed to return to the temple,” he says. “They won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”
“And what about you?” I ask in eager anticipation.
“For now…” There is a slight pause. “For now I will stay here with you, as your guardian, until we know you are safe.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. Though I fear him leaving, I decide not to allow this to get in the way of following my heart. After everything that has happened, my heart is the truest guide. Despite the uncertainty, I can trust what I feel.
“Well, you can’t stay with me,” I say, smiling. “I guess you’ll have to continue to stay with Ethan.” They glare at each other, considering the arrangement, which seems disagreeable to both of them.
In the distance, a Cadillac pulls up, followed by a police car. A woman steps out of the Cadillac and makes her way across the rubble that was a street, a treacherous feat in high heels. The woman is my social worker, Ms. Garza. A police officer who has just exited his vehicle assists her across. Two more people step out of the back of the Cadillac, Justine and Liv.
Ms. Garza finds her way to us, ranting and cursing as she goes. “Earth quakes, fires and comet strike,” she mutters. “The insurance companies are going to have a hay day with this.” She presses out her silk shirt and adjusts her skirt before continuing. “So, I came here to see if you have decided to commit any more acts of vandalism, and I see all this.” She gestures to the devastation surrounding us. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you had something to do with this.”
I open my mouth to object, but realize she is right. “However, Justine has informed me that you are innocent. I don’t believe her. But she has asked to go forward with adoption.”
“That is, if you approve,” Justine says.
“Of course, I approve,” I say. The idea of legitimately being someone’s daughter is something I thought would never happen. In all those years of floating from one foster home to another, growing older each day, the possibility of ever being part of a family was nothing more than a little girl’s fading dream. I guess, eventually, I gave up and figured I would never know what it was really
like to belong somewhere. Now, for the first time, I feel like I have a chance at having a real home. Justine brings me in and hugs me. We embrace for a moment, but then I see Liv and step back. “What about Liv?”
Ms. Garza looks at her and says, “Justine informed me of the situation earlier over the phone. The father has agreed to allow Jeff and Justine to take her in while he gets help. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. But by the look of it, you have been preoccupied with other things.”
Liv smiles at me, her joy beaming from her face. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she says.
“I told you that I would see you again,” I say. “And I meant it.”
Garza shakes her head. “I don’t know how you pulled it off,” she says. “I thought for sure the police would be taking you away. Turns out they picked up Mr. Hammond.” She points to the squad car. Mr. Hammond sits in the back seat, handcuffed. “Apparently, he’s involved in some sort of murder. Something about angels and the end of days. I told you it was the quiet small town types you had to look out for.”
I remain silent, trying to maintain the illusion that I have no idea what she is talking about. “Anyway,” Ms. Garza continues, “I will draw up the papers for the adoption. In the mean time, you will stay here in the Gregor’s home, if there is anything left of it.”
“Thank you, Ms. Garza,” I say as I hug her. She is surprised and slightly uncomfortable with the action, but says nothing about it. “Well, I suppose I had better return to the city before the National Guard blocks off the streets.” She takes the hand of the police officer as they cross back over to their cars. Soon they are both pulling away and Hammond with them.
“Do you think we will see him again?” I ask.
“I think the police will be keeping a close eye on him,” Justine says.
Somehow this does not inspire confidence in me. But for now, I have Ashur and I am safe. Besides, with Sorath gone, there is no reason for him to come after me. As Ms. Garza’s Cadillac turns the corner, ambulances and fire trucks emerge, bringing what relief they can.
“We should get you checked out,” Ashur says, as he takes me under his arm and leads me toward an ambulance. Along the way, he picks up the sword, but this time it remains lifeless. “I still don’t understand how an angelic sword ended up in a novelty shop.”
“Some things are best left undiscovered,” I say. “What matters is that we are alive.”
He examines the etching. “This is the language of the Aeons. Long before my time. It isn’t spoken any more. Perhaps Mallek could decipher it.”
I take the sword from his hand. “Can we just forget about it for now,” I say. “I’m tired.”
Ashur smiles, “I guess it isn’t important,” he says, then pulls me in close. “I’m just happy you’re alive.” He kisses me and amidst all the uncertainties, we remain that way while the world continues on around us.
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Coming soon….. The Vigilant Book 2 in the Angel Realms series.
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Angel Realms 01 The Dawn of Angels Page 24
