by Jerel Law
His room looked exactly like Eliza’s. He threw his book bag onto the floor and flopped himself down on one of the beds.
He tried to relax, but his mind kept playing back the scenes from the day. So much had happened it almost felt like three days had passed.
They’d been attacked, and almost killed, by the forces of Abaddon.
Jonah had been accused of vandalizing the boys’ bathroom.
Now they were on the run. They had to fight off a gang of Egyptian bikers from the hidden realm on the way here. Jonah had hoped he would never have to go up against long-dead Bible villains ever again after facing the Leviathan last year on the Brooklyn Bridge. But it seemed Elohim had different plans for him.
And now they were staying with a bunch of nuns, hidden away in New York City.
On top of all those things, they were about to meet a group of kids who were just like them. Who might have the same kinds of powers and abilities.
“There’s no telling what’s going to happen next,” Jonah said to the ceiling of his small room.
Light shone into the room through one small window. He stood and peered out through the blinds. It faced another brick building. Straining to look up, he could just make out the shadow of wings cast by the sunlight onto the brick.
The angels are there.
Somehow, this didn’t bring him the comfort he hoped it would. That many angels guarding up above meant that somewhere, down below, fallen angels were plotting their revenge.
PART II
* * *
ANGEL SCHOOL
* * *
“There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.”
Matthew 10:26 TNIV
EIGHT
NEW FACES, OLD FRIENDS
Jonah woke with a start at the light knock on the door. He sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes. He looked at his watch, which read 9:38 a.m. The knock came again, and he heard someone outside say, “Hello?”
“Yes?” Jonah said, standing up slowly by the edge of his bed.
The door swung open, and Jonah stood face-to-face with a dark, smiling face. More like face-to-chest, actually. In front of Jonah stood a skinny kid, much taller than him, with an outstretched hand.
“Hello!” the boy, still smiling, said again, with an unfamiliar accent. Jonah, looking up to the boy’s face, took his hand and shook it. “Can I come in?”
Jonah moved away from the door. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”
The boy had to duck under the door frame to keep from bumping his head. He had an old brown backpack and a couple of worn leather books tied by a cord. He threw these down on the other bed, opposite Jonah’s.
“Well, it looks like we are roommates!” he said with enthusiasm. “My name is David. I just arrived here with my sister.”
“Jonah,” Jonah said, sitting down on the edge of his own bed, running his fingers through his tangled hair, still trying to wake up. David turned toward him and cocked his head to the side.
“Jonah . . . Stone?”
David sat down on the bed facing him, his knees higher off the floor than the mattress.
“That’s me,” he said, wondering why he had said it with that tone. He shifted uncomfortably as David stared at him, finally saying, “What?”
“I’m sorry. I do not mean to stare,” David said, barely able to contain his excitement. “It’s just that . . . Jonah Stone. Wow . . . In our family, you are a hero!”
Jonah raised his eyebrows at him and felt his face begin to flush red. “A hero?”
“Of course!” said David, standing quickly. He banged his head against the small ceiling fan. “Ow!”
He held his hand on his head, but it did nothing to diminish his enthusiasm.
“I know the whole story,” he said, pacing around the small room. “My entire family does! Just last year, how you and your sister saved our mother from the fallen angels. From Abaddon himself!”
Jonah cringed a little, just hearing the name again.
“It was . . . not that big of a deal,” he said feebly, eager to get the attention off him.
“Not a big deal?” said David, sitting back down again. He spoke more softly. “We were heartbroken. We thought we’d never see her again. But you rescued our mother. Elohim used you in a mighty way, my brother. It was a huge deal.”
David sat there, smiling, beaming at Jonah, with a grin that stretched his cheeks wide.
“So, uh, where are you from?” asked Jonah, desperately trying to shift the conversation. “Your accent sounds like you’re from somewhere in Africa.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “My sister, Ruth, and I are from Uganda. Our father is a doctor in the city of Kampala. Our mother runs an orphanage just outside the city.”
His voice radiated pride as he spoke of his family.
“How old are you?” asked Jonah. “You’re like . . . six feet tall.”
David smiled. “Six feet two inches. I am thirteen. My sister is eleven. Yes, I’m tall.”
“But you’re . . . like me, right?” Jonah said it cautiously, although he wasn’t sure why.
“If you mean, I am part angel, a quarterling—yes,” he answered. “Some of my height has come from this special gift. You’re not short yourself.”
“I used to be,” Jonah said, pushing himself back so that he rested against the wall. “But once I discovered my abilities, it was weird. I started growing taller . . . faster.”
His Ugandan roommate nodded thoughtfully. “It is the gift of Elohim. He knew who we were before we were born. He knows how tall we are going to grow and what our powers are. What our futures hold. And He knew that we were going to be put together as roommates today.”
David nodded to himself, with his eyes closed for a minute. Jonah watched him and had to admit that he enjoyed hearing David talk about Elohim. There was something in his voice that made it sound so . . . real.
“So your mother,” Jonah said. “Where is she now? And your father?”
David’s face grew dim for the first time, and he looked down to the floor and began to pull at a piece of rubber on his old sneaker. “It is only by the will of Elohim that my sister and I are even here. That anyone is still alive. Our house caught fire last night. Rather, it was set on fire. Our guardian angel was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, my sister smelled the smoke. We got out just in time.”
He pulled the piece of rubber off his shoe and threw it toward the wastebasket in the corner.
“They have moved my father and mother to a safe location. I am not even sure where it is, but likely somewhere out of our country, where they can be hidden and watched over carefully. Abaddon is still after the nephilim and their children.”
Jonah nodded. “Yeah, we had some run-ins with them ourselves.”
He recounted the story of the attacks yesterday at their school and then on the way to the convent and how they barely survived.
“So now your school thinks you tried to flood it, huh?” David asked, disbelief in his voice.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
David started laughing, softly at first, covering his mouth. But his laugh erupted loudly, and he began to lean back on his bed, a deep uncontrollable laugh. “Jonah Stone is a . . . how do you say it in America . . . a gangster?” He hooted even louder.
“You think that’s funny? How is getting accused of flooding my school funny?” asked Jonah. But he began to chuckle a little bit too. “Okay, it is kind of funny, in a twisted sort of way.”
Jonah checked his watch.
“It will be ten thirty soon,” he said.
David untied his small stack of books and grabbed one of them. It looked to Jonah like a weathered Bible.
The tall Ugandan ducked under the door frame again, and Jonah followed him, heading downstairs to the meeting room.
Jonah and David walked into the gathering room on the first floor of the convent. Someone had set up rusty folding chairs in rows, and about half of them were oc
cupied by kids. Jonah saw Eliza, sitting in the front row, of course. She turned back and gave him a little wave. She was sitting beside a girl with jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail. The girl turned toward him, and then looked back ahead quickly, whispering something to Eliza.
Jonah and his new roommate found two chairs in the back. Every one of the other kids sitting in the chairs turned around, almost in unison. All looking at Jonah. No one said anything to him, but a few smiled or whispered to the kids sitting beside them.
He squirmed in his seat, which made the chair creak. He met their eyes for a second, and then stared down at his worn basketball shoes. Why were they all looking at him?
Someone noisily sat down beside him.
“Hey, Jonah!” Jeremiah’s voice echoed in the room, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What’s this all about? Do you know what we’re doing here? Who’s this? Have you met my roommate yet?”
Some of the girls turned toward Jeremiah and smiled. He just kept on talking. Clueless.
“Can you slow down for a sec?” Jonah said.
“This is your brother?” David said, pointing his thumb to Jeremiah. Jonah nodded reluctantly, and David extended his huge hand toward him. “Hi, Jeremiah. My name is David.”
Jeremiah took his hand and shook it forcefully, his bright eyes beaming at David.
“You’re big!” he said. “How tall are you? Do you play basketball?”
David laughed. “Your brother is trouble, Jonah. I can already tell.”
Before he could answer the barrage of questions, Sister Patricia had moved to the front of the room. The remaining chairs filled up with kids.
“Good afternoon, children,” she said kindly. “I want to welcome you all again to our convent. I hope that you have found your rooms adequate.”
None of the kids said anything, and Jonah wondered if they were thinking the same thing he was. He was already missing his room and his stuff.
“As you know, you have been brought here by the angelic forces. This has been done for your protection. Most of the missing guardian angels have been recovered. They have taken your parents to safe places near your homelands, guarded securely, hidden from Abaddon and his forces.” She paced in front of them as she spoke. “And you have been brought here for you own safety.” The kids nodded solemnly. Jonah counted them. Thirteen quarterlings, all attacked and driven from their homes the day before.
“But there is another reason you are here.” She paused, and then her eyes landed past them, to the back of the room.
“Training.”
The voice came from behind Jonah and was a familiar one. He turned to see an elderly woman standing in the doorway. She was wearing a blue dress with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and had a cane in her hand. Slowly, she crept toward the front of the room, as all of the kids looked on. A few whispered to each other.
Jonah found himself smiling. It was his old friend Camilla Aldridge. They never would have rescued the nephilim without her help.
“Excuse me, but what can you possibly tell us about training?”
The question came from a boy sitting at the end of Jonah’s row. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded, a smirk on his face. His sandy blond hair fell over his forehead, his skin tanned and golden.
Jonah narrowed his eyes at him. “More than you ever could.”
The kid leaned forward, looking for who had said those words. When he realized it was Jonah, for a second he looked uncertain. But his glare quickly turned icy. Jonah met it with a sarcastic wave. He noticed the other kids watching him, and his face began to feel flushed. Thankfully, Mrs. Aldridge drew their attention back to the front of the room.
“Things aren’t always what they seem, Frederick,” she said with a smile. As she stood in front of them, she suddenly began to transform. Her hunched-over back straightened and her wrinkles disappeared, her face taking on an otherworldly glow. Her hair lengthened, turning from grayish-blue to brilliant silver. Wings of the same color emerged from her back, fluttering softly. Her blue dress morphed into a long, flowing robe that sparkled as if it were covered with diamonds. The cane she had been holding became a glittering sword, which she sheathed inside her robe.
The kids oohed and aahed, and even Frederick seemed reluctantly impressed. Jonah wondered if they had ever seen warrior angels before their journey here.
“Ah, yes. That feels better,” she said, stretching her arms and twisting her back. “It’s rather like wearing a fat suit. Very constricting.”
Some of the kids laughed. She measured them all for a minute with her blue eyes. Her eyes are still the same, Jonah thought to himself.
“Now, as Sister Patricia has told you, being here is for your own protection. Your guardian angels are not here to protect you any longer. You might have noticed that they disappeared yesterday. They were kidnapped by Abaddon’s forces, part of the plan to attack you.”
The room grew silent once more. So that’s what happened to Cassandra, Jonah thought.
“This place is covered with the prayers of the nuns and the wings of the angels. A very strong defense against the wiles of the fallen ones. They cannot locate us, much less penetrate these walls.”
“Ex-excuse me,” one of the boys said, shooting up his hand nervously. He was dressed in khaki slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and a red sweater vest. His reddish-brown hair was slicked down and neatly parted.
“Yes, Mr. Clamwater?” Camilla said patiently.
Jonah recognized the name, and when the boy began to speak, he immediately remembered. The boy’s father, Roger Clamwater, was the first nephilim to fall under Marduk’s spell, down underneath the psychiatric center in New York last year. He had survived, barely. This boy spoke with the same thin British accent. This must be his kid.
“How can you be sure? Wouldn’t they notice all the angels on the roof? We were all told we were perfectly safe before, but nothing stopped the Fallen from attacking yesterday. My dad was caught in a drive-by shooting in broad daylight—right outside Parliament!” he said, arms folded across his chest, rubbing his arms. His voice grew higher as he spoke. “He almost died! I’m sorry, but the angels did nothing to stop that, did they? So how can you know, I mean really know, that—”
“Rupert,” Camilla said, just firmly enough to stop him midsentence. “I understand your worries, my dear. As I said, one of the reasons you are here is that this is an extremely secure location. There is not one possibility of a fallen angel breaking through our defenses. The entire Second Battalion is ready to intercede at any moment. And your parents have the protection of Elohim’s angels as well.”
This seemed to settle Rupert down, if only a little. He continued mumbling something but kept it to himself.
Eliza slowly raised her hand, pushing her glasses up onto her nose. “Mrs. Aldridge?” she asked.
“Yes, dear? And please, call me Camilla.”
Eliza nodded. “You said that we are also here to be trained. What does that mean?”
“I can always count on you to listen well, Eliza,” Camilla said. Her eyes glistened now, and she began pacing in front of them, hands folded behind her back. “It is my duty to inform you that, by the order of the Archangel Michael himself, under the hand of our Lord Elohim, a new effort is beginning as of today. A training center for quarterlings, all thirteen of you, has been established.”
The kids began talking to each other rapidly, excitement suddenly filling the air of the dusty meeting room.
“This center will focus on preparing you to be the best quarterlings possible,” she continued. “All of the angelic skills necessary to do battle will be learned. Archery, swordsmanship, using your unique defenses, to name a few. As well as the more focused, spiritual exercises, like prayer and studying the Scriptures—they don’t get all the glory, but they are just as necessary to the battle.”
Jeremiah raised his hand frantically but didn’t wait for her to call on him. “Will there be recess?”
Ever
yone laughed, including Camilla. “There will be some time for relaxation, yes. But listen,” she said, her voice growing very serious, the smile vanishing from her face for the first time. “We will not be learning simple lessons never to be used again outside a classroom. There is a battle happening, and the lives of everyone you see are at stake. But the humans . . .” She paused, sighing. “Humans are who Abaddon is really after. Elohim’s prized creation. Your job will be to learn your gifts, to encourage one another, to work hard, and to fight well.”
Jonah looked around at the rest of the kids, sizing up his new classmates. He wondered what kinds of skills they had already developed. And he couldn’t help but think about how he would fare against them. This wasn’t like math or science class. Real life was at stake, just like Camilla had said. He knew that as well as anybody. Maybe these kids weren’t even all followers of Elohim. Were some of them loyal to Abaddon instead? He finally raised his hand.
“Yes, Jonah?” Camilla responded. The other kids cocked their heads around to get a glimpse of him again. They also seemed to be sizing up Eliza. He tried to ignore the stares.
“Mrs. Aldridge,” he said, “this . . . um . . . angel school . . . is it going to meet here? I mean, just looking around this place, it doesn’t seem like there is any space for this kind of thing.”
“Angel School . . . Well put, Jonah,” she replied, looking thoughtfully at him for a minute. “To keep current with your regular schooling, the nuns have agreed to tutor you here in the convent.”
All of the quarterlings groaned at the same time. Camilla waited until they were quiet again.
“We, however, have arranged a different space for our lessons. Since there are only thirteen of you, you will all be taught together. We have some very gifted teachers who will be instructing you. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
Rupert raised his hand tentatively again. He looked like he was going to be sick. “So this begins now, then?”
Camilla snapped her fingers. “I’m glad you brought that up, Rupert! Actually, it begins tonight.”
