Divinity

by Michelle L. Johnson

  “So beautiful,” she gasped, frozen mid-step. “Incredible!”

  “Thank you,” the young mother beamed, pausing.

  “How many are there here?” Julia was surprised to hear her thought spoken aloud.

  “How many?” the young woman asked. “There’s only one.”

  “Oh, sorry, I…” Julia’s mind raced, reaching for an explanation. “I meant his teeth, I see one coming in. I guess I was just talking out loud. He is extraordinarily beautiful, really.”

  “Oh.” The young mother took an awkward step away. “Thank you. Bye now.”

  Julia tried to smile as the carriage slowly worked its way through the crowd. The toddler stayed focused on Julia. She shivered and rubbed her arms as she stared back.

  The moment the foul odor pounded into her nostrils, Julia’s sense of awe switched to alarm and she tried to weave her shield. When it didn’t work, she reached for the stone she had, thankfully, carried with her in her front pocket. In her haste, the stone slipped from her fingertips and dropped to the ground. Even as she bent to pick it up, she searched for the source of the smell. Her eyes darted from person to person, seeing various forms of light energy she knew to be human. Then she caught sight of the form moving toward her. It was more the absence of light that caught her attention.

  She could see its limbs, like sticks, as it stepped toward her with a stilted gait. She cringed, thinking of the damage those limbs had done to Alex’s body. Its mouth stretched open like torn fabric. It appeared flat in contrast to everything else. She grabbed for her stone, but it rolled just inches from her reach.

  One of its arms, if you could call it that, brushed the mother of the baby as it went past. Immediately a black, festering sore opened on the woman’s arm and she cried out, losing her grip on the carriage. As she fell to her knees, the monster took another step toward the child.

  Julia didn’t have time even to breathe. Her fumbling fingers finally made contact with the stone and through it she cast her energy out to form a shield. It worked, but instead of weaving it around herself, she threw it around the baby.

  The monster’s scream drowned out the sobbing of the mother, whose arm was now spotted with vile black blisters. It sidestepped the baby and lunged toward Julia.

  When it was less than a foot from her face, the gaping hole that was its mouth was larger than her head. She knew she should be terrified, but her fear evaporated when her gut reaction took over, and she doubled up her shield around the cherub child. Julia stood facing the hideous creature without blinking. She felt cold. Focused and strong. Something else, too, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe righteous.

  It was within an inch of her, and she was certain its intent was to swallow her whole. Running on pure instinct, she snapped the shield off the baby, moving it to cover herself. The threads unraveled, recoiling toward her. They passed the thing, slicing through its surface with a hiss of black steam, stopping it cold.

  One after the other, the threads slashed through it, each doing obvious damage. The creature let out a screeching howl and evaporated, leaving behind two thick globs of sizzling ooze. Julia re-formed the barrier around herself and held it there as she watched the remnants of the creature disappear. When the smell had gone and she was sure the danger had passed, she let the rock drop back into her pocket, and the threads simply vanished when she stopped feeding them energy.

  Less than ten seconds had passed since the monster appeared, and the rest of the people continued to move, oblivious to the battle Julia had just fought.

  -You caused it damage, girl,- Michael’s voice entered her head. She thought she heard a hint of pride. Maybe it was disbelief. -You must stay away from those that are like you. The combined life-force is too bright. I fear that is how he tracks you. Your light is a beacon. I have told you this before.-

  -Michael? I feel so weak. I…- Julia’s legs quivered, her knees buckled, and she started to fall toward the pavement, darkness swirling in around her.

  “Leave the woman, Raphael,” Michael said. “We must care for the Children first.”

  “If I stop healing her, that black ooze will consume her whole being,” Raphael said, her pinched gaze belying her calm tone. “This woman is a caretaker of a Child. The consequences of allowing her destruction in such a manner…”

  “Do what you must,” Michael said tersely. “But Gabriel’s Child must be your priority.”

  With a nod of acquiescence, Raphael continued sending waves of healing in dual directions, one thread to the woman whose arm was rapidly deteriorating, and one to Julia as her eyes rolled into her head and her knees buckled.

  “We didn’t even have time to react, Michael. How are we going to battle this thing?” Gabriel spoke quietly, furrowing the tips of his wings.

  “I should have been there already. I was too focused elsewhere. I am spread too thin.” Michael’s voice was barely a whisper, but Gabriel heard him clearly.

  “No,” Gabriel said. “It wasn’t that, not this time. The whole event took less than ten seconds. We could have been an army beside her and we wouldn’t have had time to react. But her shield damaged the A’nwel.”

  “I saw. We wouldn’t have had time to react, Brother, but she did. Do humans have a faster response rate?”

  Gabriel shrugged, his shoulders and wings moving in unison. “Perhaps they have more practice. We are used to moving in and out of their plane, their time flow. We are used to having their seconds stretched out for us as we know of things, and interfere when necessary. We are not used to the unknown and we are not accustomed to having to lie in wait, on Earth time.”

  “You have a point,” Michael said.

  As Michael spoke to Gabriel on the higher plane, they both watched him on Earth as Michael entered Julia’s body just before she crumpled, and moved her back to her hotel room.

  “What kind of sense do shoes like that make, Brother? If I misstep, I fear I will break her ankle.”

  “I would not be concerned with the ankles,” Gabriel said. “She will not appreciate the invasion.”

  “I cannot leave her in the street, fallen and unprotected. And I need to be there when she regains consciousness. We need to know how she saw it.” Michael vacated Julia’s form once she was on the bed in her hotel room, and sat in the chair beside the bed.

  “And how to weave that shield,” Gabriel added. “There was something in it I did not recognize. A thread. If we can duplicate that, we will be able to defeat this thing.”

  “Another troubling thing,” Michael said, staring down at himself sitting beside Julia’s bed. “The first time it appeared, we thought the witnesses kept it at bay. This time, it appeared on a crowded street.”

  Gabriel flexed the tips of his wings. “The only difference was the dog.”

  “Yes, there was a dog in the van. A natural enemy, perhaps?”

  “There is nothing natural about that thing,” Gabriel said. “But canines are guardian spirits.”

  “Regardless, we must learn how to destroy it. Somehow.”

  “Michael.” Gabriel’s voice was suddenly grave. “How do we know there is only one?”

  XXII

  JULIA’S eyes opened slowly, the light in the room sifting into her consciousness as gradually as the memory of making her way back to her room. A drum circle took place inside her head.

  She rolled over, seeking the alarm clock, as her heart started gaining speed. How long have I slept? Have I missed my flight? How did I get here?

  “Sixteen hours. No. I brought you.”

  Though she recognized Michael’s voice immediately, she jumped and slapped a hand to her mouth. She sat up and propped herself up against the headboard, one hand on her heart as though that would slow it back down. “Michael. Thank God.”

  “You should thank Him yourself. He likes that,” Michael said. Julia wasn’t sure if he was stating a fact or teasing her. “Though I wasn’t sent to you. I thought it would be best to come for you. You are attr
acting some unwanted attention.”

  “I didn’t mean to, Michael.” Julia squinted at him, moving her head slowly before her breath caught and she sat bolt upright. “The woman! That thing hurt her!”

  “We have taken care of that,” Michael said, gently taking Julia by the shoulders and placing her back on the pillows. “She will lose her arm, but we were able to hold off the spread of the disease long enough to save the rest of her.”

  Julia’s eyes pooled with tears. She knew it was her fault. If only she hadn’t dropped the stone. “I need to…do something. Help her somehow.”

  “Let go of this guilt, girl. She will be taken care of.”

  Julia studied Michael’s expression, then tried to blink the pain in her head away. “I feel like I have a migraine. Just looking around hurts. Michael, I wasn’t able to see normally. All I could see was energy. Is there a way to control that?”

  For a second, Michael flickered, as though he were going to wink out. When he solidified, Julia thought she saw small green orbs floating toward her. She closed her eyes.

  “You will have to learn to be more firmly human, to mask your abilities. Sometimes that can be as simple as a clear thought of purpose. Tell yourself you want to see with human eyes.”

  “Human eyes,” Julia repeated. “So, I’ve been seeing through angel eyes?”

  “You need to tell me how you saw the A’nwel.”

  “A’nwel?” Julia asked, surprised they had a name for something they seemed to know nothing about. She kept her frustration in check, though she really wished Michael would answer her before pushing her around.

  “Loosely translated, it means ‘the ones who are not seen by the light of God,’ which is the opposite of ‘angel.’ Though I thought ‘Miasma’ would have been just as suitable, given the stench.”

  “I thought demons were the opposites of angels.” Julia paused and searched Michael’s face. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Tell me how you saw it, girl.”

  “Fine.” Julia crossed her arms over her chest. “I was walking up the street. I couldn’t see anyone normally. Everyone was energy. Light. Both, maybe. I don’t know, but it was bright. The baby…he was…”

  “He was a Child of Light, like you. How did you know the A’nwel was there, girl? Focus. Go back to it in your mind.”

  “The smell again. That horrible, rotting smell,” Julia said. Her eyes closed as she revisited the memory, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

  “More. You saw something. What was it?” Michael pressed.

  “No, it was more like I didn’t see something. It was the absence of…” Julia’s voice trailed off as she searched for the right word. Her eyes popped open with her answer. “Soul. It had no spirit, no essence. It was a void.”

  “Soulless. Invisible ones.” Michael’s face gave away no reaction. “Can you make the shield again? The way you did to protect the baby?”

  Julia studied Michael. She thought back to the original shield she had woven to mimic the one Alex had spun and realized it had been useless. She wondered if Michael knew and had let her believe it would protect her. She did her best to mask her thought. “It was a different shield than before, Michael. I meant it to be the same, but my whole being wanted to protect the baby, so something changed.”

  “Show me.”

  “I’ll try.” Clutching her stone in one hand, Julia closed her eyes and envisioned the web that she had cast over the child. It could have been my sibling, she thought.

  The threads came together, and fell apart. Together. Apart. Always forming the original web she now knew was nothing but a light show.

  “Try again,” Michael said with the voice of a patient teacher. “Focus on the seraphinite.”

  Julia glared at him, pulled the stone out of her pocket, and forced the threads into the air in front of her. Again they touched, but they were still just a useless ball of light. She let them fall, sighed, and threw her arms in the air.

  “I can’t do it, Michael. I was in danger. It was different. I guess I just can’t fake it.”

  “Well, I won’t make the obvious joke there.” Michael winked at Julia. “Feeling better?”

  “I am, actually.” She laughed lightly and finally relaxed. The throbbing had almost disappeared, and the green orbs seemed to be gone as well. “I want to go home. I wish I could just pop around the way you do.”

  “What makes you think you can’t, girl?”

  Julia’s jaw worked. She had no answer to that. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might be able to do more than whatever abilities she had stumbled upon. Finally, she said, “Will you show me?”

  “For now, let’s stick to the usual, more human methods of transport. They require a lot less explanation.”

  “Yes, I suppose they would,” Julia said. “I should get ready to go to the airport.”

  “I am going to stay with you. More closely, I mean.”

  “What do you mean, more closely? I thought you said you were always here.” Even as she said the words, the startling realization came upon her that when the soulless creature had appeared Michael was nowhere to be seen.

  “I am,” Michael said. “Everywhere. But often more solidly in one place than another. Think of it in the way your mind works. You are often processing many things at the same time. Hundreds of thoughts tumbling through while you are solving problems, rethinking conversations, and examining ideas. Sometimes you focus more on one than the rest, but they are all still going on.”

  “So, you are going to focus more on me? All the time?” Julia unconsciously looked toward the small bathroom. “What about privacy?”

  Michael threw his head back with a deep laugh. Julia glared at him, jumped out of bed, and began to gather her things.

  “I can’t help it, Michael. Don’t laugh at me.”

  “I am not laughing at you, girl. It seems whenever I worry that you are leaning too strongly toward your spirit, you show me your humanity.”

  “You have a strange sense of humor.” Julia picked the hotel key card off the dresser and scanned the room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything.

  “Indeed,” he agreed. “Speaking of humor, tell me—why do you endanger your ankles by wearing such shoes?”

  “I have studied the weaving inside and out, Michael.” Raphael’s wings twitched with agitation. “I can’t make out what that one thread is.”

  “I know.” Michael’s voice sounded distant, almost as though it was as transparent as his form seemed to be. “She doesn’t know what it was, either. She reacted out of sheer instinct, not purpose.”

  “Her instinct is to protect. That works out well.” Raphael sent wave after wave of healing energy over Julia, even as she spoke with Michael. “Perhaps the answer lies in what I am healing within her right now.”

  “What is that, Sister?”

  “Her spirit. It seems she used a part of herself to cast that web. Such an action is very dangerous. She could have burned herself out.”

  “What part of herself did she use, though? We need to know this secret, Raphael. We must be able to defend against this abomination.”

  “I don’t know, Michael. I am trying to figure it out as I go. It is something unfamiliar to me. Perhaps it is part of her human essence.”

  “Perhaps,” Michael said. “We need to know what part. I would have thought no part of the human essence would be strong enough to form this kind of a weapon. What do you need to figure this out, Raphael?”

  “Short of dissecting her, I am not certain.” She stopped radiating healing and focused more sharply on Michael.

  “You did notice where her loyalty lies, though?”

  “Her loyalty?”

  “She cast around the other angel. Not the humans. Not herself. This is a good sign for us, is it not?” Raphael smiled.

  “Loyalty,” Michael said and returned the smile, “is a good thing.”

  XXIII

  JULIA hefted her carry-on bag into the trunk and c
limbed into the car. The papers Suzanne had given her were still on the passenger seat.

  “Oh, I forgot all about those,” she said, picking them up. She leafed through them—they seemed to be forms for requesting a transfer of residence. “Why on Earth would she give me these?”

  When Julia flipped over the seventh page, what she saw was completely different than the rest. It was a photocopy of a check made out to the Woodgrass facility. A check signed by “Lori Samson.” Her name, Dallas address, and telephone number were all there on the top left-hand corner of the check.

  Julia’s hand trembled slightly as she put the papers back down on the seat. She started the car.

  “All this time, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of these people. I haven’t heard a whisper of her name. Now it is almost haunting me.” Julia put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot, then worked her way out of the underground lot. “What am I supposed to do, Michael?”

  She looked over her shoulder and spoke to the empty back seat. “I thought you said you were going to hang around more closely,”

  Maybe I am crazy, she thought. Or maybe he has me on “mute.”

  She drove toward the airport. Julia had no interest in meeting this horrible woman, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of a mission she was meant to complete, or a path she was meant to take. It was obvious someone wanted her to find Lori. She wished she knew the reason, and who was behind it.

  “What do you think, Michael?” Julia spoke into the rearview mirror, still aimed at the empty back seat.

  -Choice, girl.- His soft voice entered her mind. -Remember, choice.-

  She nodded, adjusting the rearview to look herself in the eye. -And consequence. Don’t forget that.- She was thinking of the baby she’d saved, and the mother who’d lost her arm as a result of Julia’s clumsiness. The guilt was overwhelming. She’d have to do something to make sure that never happened again. In the meantime, she had a bit of family business to tend to.