by Jerel Law
He felt an evil, raw power break across the room like a wave.
For the briefest of seconds, the shadow paused, and then took shape.
Long strands of stringy, dark hair covered almost the entire cheek of a pale face, so that only one eye was visible. One red, glaring eye looking to see who had taken an angelblade to his commander and destroyed his forces; to see who had ruined his careful plans.
Jonah knew in an instant who it was. Abaddon.
Then Jonah noticed that across his neck, he was missing a chunk of flesh. Like what an ax would do with one swipe to the base of a tree. The area was both crusty black, and bloody and raw. An old and an open wound.
Jonah felt the Evil One’s gaze, searching. Fingers reaching inside his soul.
Finally, a cold whisper pierced him. “Who are you, to try and thwart my plan?” And then, as he continued to probe, “Ahh . . . a nephilim son. Well, son of angels, I am patient. And we will meet again.”
His lips curled into a grin for the briefest of seconds, and then, as quickly as he had appeared, he snapped his hood up, covering both the scar and his head, and dissolved into a shapeless black shadow again. Slipping into the entrance of the underground tunnel, he was gone.
Jonah’s legs suddenly felt weak, and he stumbled. He felt someone catch him, and he blinked and shook his head. It was his mom.
“Jonah,” she said. “Oh, Jonah . . .” She held his face in her hands, looking deep into his eyes. “I thought Marduk had you. Like the others . . .” Eleanor began to weep. He wrapped his arms around his mother, closing his eyes as he felt his own happy tears coming. Eliza came running over and joined them.
“Okay, okay,” he said after a few moments, beginning to get embarrassed by the hug fest. He shrugged his shoulders. “It was no big deal.”
“No big deal, huh?” Henry said proudly. “Jonah says it’s no big deal, Eleanor. You know, going toe-to-toe with Marduk and all of his fallen ones is just another day in the life of a thirteen-year-old.”
“How is your father?” Eleanor asked Jonah and Eliza, then looked over at Henry.
Henry smiled. “He’s probably pretty worried. He wanted to come after you, but Elohim had other plans. He’ll be anxious to see all of us.”
Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded. “And Jeremiah?”
“He’s fine, Mom,” said Eliza. “He doesn’t have a clue—but I’m sure he misses you terribly.”
“What about them?” Jonah said, glancing at the nephilim, who were wandering around and talking to each other in hushed voices.
“Their connection with Abaddon seems to have been broken,” Henry said. “I’m not sure how much of a scar it will leave on them, however. Once we get them back home, I will send word to my fellow guardian angels to look after them with special care. I don’t know if any of these people have even discovered their true origins. But something tells me we’ll have a lot of explaining to do.” He began to corral the nephilim and get them ready to move.
“Speaking of home, don’t you think it’s about time we got out of the hidden realm and went there?” said Eliza, looking up at her mom. “Together?”
With the nephilim behind them, they made their way back into the long tunnel and finally up through the castle floor. They climbed the narrow steps up into the tower.
When they were almost to the top, Jonah turned back to Eliza.
“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat, “back there, in the basement. Did you . . . see him?”
She looked at him blankly. “Who?”
“You didn’t see . . . ?” Jonah started. She squinted her eyes at him as they arrived at the roof. “Forget it. We can talk about it later.”
Eleanor, Jonah, Eliza, and Henry stood for a while on the edge of the castle wall, looking at the park below and the skyscrapers just beyond. The sky was clear, the sun making its way down but still casting a warm glow.
“It’s a nice afternoon for flying, don’t you think?”
The voice came from behind them. They spun around to see Marcus and Taryn, the warrior angels, standing next to the seven other nephilim. A group of powerful-looking angels stood silently behind them.
“Marcus! Taryn!” Henry exclaimed. But then he folded his arms across his chest. “Where exactly have you all been?”
Marcus stepped forward, towering above him. “This was their mission, Henry, as you well know.” His eyes twinkled. “And yours too.”
Henry raised his eyebrows and said nothing, but couldn’t hold back a grin.
Eliza tried to protest another angel ride, remembering the other she had taken earlier in the day. But she was too tired to put up much of a fight.
“I won’t go too fast this time, Eliza,” Henry promised. “And I’ll fly in a straight line.”
He held her hand and flapped his wings hard, and they shot off across the trees. Jonah heard her screams turn into distant laughter.
Eleanor held on to Taryn, and they gracefully dove over the edge. Jonah watched them climb, dark silhouettes against the brilliant light of sunset.
Jonah watched in awe as seven of the angels each took a nephilim in their arms and leapt off of the edge of the castle wall.
“Whoa!” he said. “Awesome!”
Marcus watched them for a minute too, and then turned to Jonah.
“What happened down there, what you did—” he said gruffly, “—well, Elohim was watching. And it was . . . impressive.” Jonah managed a shy thanks as he looked down at his basketball shoes. The angel shared a few more words with Jonah, and then, holding on to his arm, they leapt together from the castle.
Jonah rode the wind all the way to Peacefield, on the arm of a warrior angel. It was cool and amazing, but all he really wanted to do now was go home.
EPILOGUE
PEACEFIELD
Jonah and Eliza walked along the path in the woods behind their house. Fall was here, but today it was unusually warm, the sun bursting through the grove of trees they walked underneath. Jeremiah was weaving in and out of them and the trees, having turned a large stick into a sword, battling imaginary villains.
If he only knew, Jonah thought.
It had been three days since they had flown back from New York City—by way of angel wing—with their mother. Henry had shown Jonah and Eliza how to leave the hidden realm when they touched down.
“It’s just like going in,” he’d said. “No special words or phrases. Just a heartfelt prayer to Elohim, asking to reenter the physical world. That should do it.”
Jonah and Eliza had huddled together in the backyard, praying. When they opened their eyes, they saw the plain look of the trees, the grass, and each other—the shimmering glow invisible now—and knew they were back.
“I still can’t believe it all,” Eliza now said as they walked. “That Michael himself came and caught you, just at the right time, and gave you the sword.”
They were still going over every event whenever they got the chance. “Look at this again,” Jonah replied, pulling out the Bible from his pocket, the one from Mrs. Aldridge. “Ephesians 6:10–11: ‘Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.’” He closed the Bible and watched one squirrel chase another up a tree as they walked. “The only thing I can figure is that when I needed it most, I had a strength that was beyond my own. Elohim gave me His power and His armor.”
Eliza began to nod her head. “When you wouldn’t give in to Marduk, in your heart and mind you were saying that you would rather die than submit to him. And when you did that, you were letting go of your own strength and holding on to Elohim’s.”
Jonah patted his younger sister on the shoulder. “I don’t think the fallen angels anticipated what two kids trusting in Elohim can do.”
This didn’t seem to comfort her, though. “You realize that Abaddon knows all about us now. And he’s not going to be happy,” she said darkly. “He won’t give up th
at easily.”
Jonah shook his head. “The nephilim have been delivered back to their families by the angels, safe and sound. Henry says they have all committed to becoming serious followers of Elohim. I guess who wouldn’t, after a run-in like that with Marduk?”
“That is not exactly what I meant,” she said. “I was talking about our family. You said that Marcus warned you. About how being a quarterling is an extremely rare thing, and that the things that happened in the hidden realm that day have never happened before. That Abaddon’ll be on the warpath. We saw what his second-in-command could do.”
She didn’t have to say the rest. Her unsaid words hung heavily in the forest air. Imagine what it would be like to face Abaddon himself. Jonah had thought about that every day since he’d caught a glimpse of the Evil One’s face.
Jonah thought about what Marcus had told him before they left the castle in Central Park. “Being a quarterling in this world is a rare thing, Jonah. Danger will be around every corner. Learn to use your gifts. Always remember there is a war raging. Learn how to fight. You surely haven’t seen the last of the Fallen.”
The words had stuck deep in his head that night, both exciting and troubling him. But one thought kept bubbling up. He whacked a stick lazily against the trees as they went along. “We have Elohim on our side, Eliza. What more do we need?”
They watched Jeremiah run around, hide behind the brush, and fire sticks at imaginary enemies.
“Come on, Jeremiah,” Eliza called out. “You’re going to make us late.”
Soon they came to the clearing, underneath a canopy of oaks. Eleanor and Benjamin were perched on some large logs. They motioned for Jonah, Eliza, and Jeremiah to join them.
“I barely got to know Henry,” muttered Eliza. “I can’t believe he’s going to be leaving us already.”
“Cool!” Jeremiah said, pointing in front of them. “Real angels!”
Marcus and Taryn had stepped forward into the clearing and were now standing at attention, hands behind their backs. Henry was in the middle, dwarfed by them both.
“Um, you can see them, Jeremiah?” asked Jonah, with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course,” he said, grinning and waving back. “I see all three of them. Don’t you?”
Just then, old Mrs. Aldridge walked up. Jonah wondered if she was starting to lose her mind when she joined the angels and turned to face them, smiling serenely as if she were just taking an afternoon stroll. But then she began to transform before their eyes. Her hair was no longer bluish-gray and curly. Instead, it became long, shining like pure silver. The wrinkles in her skin disappeared. She stood up straight and tall. Wings shimmered into view on her back, full and brilliant white.
Jonah and Eliza looked at each other, too shocked to speak.
“Certainly after your time in the hidden realm, you now know that things aren’t always as they appear to be, don’t you?” she said to them, still smiling.
Before they could answer, another angel appeared in front of them, like he had walked out from behind an invisible curtain. He was covered with sleek metallic armor, and his wings were silver and looked as sharp as razor blades.
Jonah whispered, “Michael.”
Marcus, Taryn, Camilla Aldridge, and Henry stood even taller and straighter now.
“Commander Michael, sir,” said Marcus, bowing his head low.
“Michael?” Eliza whispered to Jonah. “As in, archangel Michael?”
Jonah nodded.
“Thank you, my dear friend,” Michael said to Marcus, slapping him on the shoulder and turning to Mrs. Aldridge. He smiled slyly. “Camilla. Revealing your true colors today?”
She bowed her head low like Marcus. “It seemed like the right time, Commander.”
Archangel Michael nodded crisply, then turned toward Henry, who looked so ordinary and small next to the four angels beside him. “Let’s get right to the point, shall we, Henry? I believe you’ve waited long enough for this.”
Henry smiled shyly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Friends of Elohim,” said Michael, “it is not often that we confer upon any angelic being a promotion as we are today. But based on the heroic efforts above and beyond the call of duty by the guardian angel who stands before me today, and more importantly, because it is the will of Elohim, I am proud to promote you to Warrior-Class Angel, effective immediately.”
Michael unsheathed a glowing silver sword from his belt and placed it in an awestruck Henry’s hands.
“You will get your armor when you report for duty with the Second Battalion of the Angelic Forces of the West,” he said, and extended his hand to Henry’s. “Congratulations.”
Jonah heard a roar of voices behind them, and he turned to see hundreds of angels standing and sitting in the trees. They were cheering for Henry.
“And you two,” Michael said powerfully, pointing to Jonah and Eliza. “Come here.”
They slowly rose from their seats on a tree stump and stood, heads bowed, in front of the archangel.
“Your bravery helped stop a worldwide tragedy from occurring,” the angel said. “If the nephilim had been convinced to align themselves with Abaddon, the damage they could have done to the world, and to the cause of Elohim, would have been immense. The angelic host honors you for your courage in the heat of battle.”
He shook both of their hands and turned them around to face their family. Benjamin, Eleanor, and Jeremiah beamed at them. Jonah broke out into a huge grin. The angels raised their swords and arrows into the air, and cheered.
And as beams of sunlight broke through the trees and fell around them all, Jonah knew that Elohim was applauding too.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jerel Law is a gifted communicator, pastor, and church planter with seventeen years of full-time ministry experience. He holds a master of divinity degree from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and began writing fiction as a way to encourage his children’s faith to come alive. Law lives in North Carolina with his family. Spirit Fighter is his first novel.
Learn more at www.jerellaw.com.
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