Into The Light (The Fallen Shadows)

by Rebecca R. Cohen

  The elders stored their records in the Grand Room and kept track of where the Descended had turned up and those souls who have crossed over their borders. These records were sealed inside the bricks that made up the Grand Wall sitting in the very back of the room. The Grand Wall was made of brick and stone from the walls that separated the north and south garrisons. In the gaps that separated the brick and stone sat molds of gold where the records were embedded.

  Davon found Chance placing one of the bricks near the bottom of the wall back in place. He had just been reviewing the record of a soul who recently passed through Heaven’s gates. He was dressed in his Ascension; gear the same sheer white outfit with red lining he’d worn for every Tracker’s ascension.

  “Shouldn’t you be overseeing the purifying of our newest soul?” Chance said to Davon without turning around and seeing his Guide standing atop the golden spiral staircase that led into the Grand Room.

  Davon made his way into the room, taking the stairs cautiously. He kept his distance, standing with his hands resting on the cedar chair that sat in the corner of the room on the opposite end of where Chance stood. “I’m sorry to bother you but I have something that I need to speak with you about.”

  Chance sealed the brick in place and spun on a swift heel to make his way toward Davon. He kept his stride slow and steady. No matter how serious a situation was, Chance remained calm. Davon’s nerves began to kick in as Chance drew closer. He couldn’t be sure how the conversation would go. He had to choose his words carefully and not be accusatory toward his elder. Crossing Chance without merit could land Davon into Purgatory as punishment for treason.

  “I assume that since you are coming to me now, on this day, that the subject matter is time sensitive?” Chance said. It was more of a warning than it was a question. He liked to remain calm and secluded from the rest of the Anchorage on ascension days, which is why he kept himself busy in the Grand Room moments before the ascension.

  “It is, I assure you,” Davon replied moving toward Chance who was standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest. “It’s about something Ash and I discovered while on the mission.”

  Chance unfolded his arms and gestured with his hand for Davon to continue. Information involving missions were always crucial to the elders. Each mission gave the Guides a better idea as to how the Descended had been looking for the doorway.

  When the Guides would return from a mission, after being cleansed, they would report to the elders about their findings and these findings would be recorded and kept in the Grand Room. Of course, as a promise to Ash, when the boys returned from their mission that day, Davon kept quiet about Serena and the angel blade.

  Davon stood silent for a moment trying to gather his thoughts and determine the best way to approach the subject. His silence drew on Chance’s impatience. “Well?”

  “Well we came across a group of Descended in an abandoned café and among them was Serena. It seemed as though she were their leader,” Davon started.

  Chance, who hardly ever showed emotion, was showing clear signs of distress, the very sound of the word, Serena made his skin crawl. Casting her out was hard on him as she showed much promise and could have become an incredible Guide. “Serena. I’m not surprised that she has taken over the Descended’s attempt to find the doorway. She was the first to be cast out, it is only natural that she should be trying to find a way back in. Has she been sent to Purgatory?”

  Davon bowed his head in shame. He had enjoyed killing her, but he knew Chance would be disappointed in him. “She nearly killed Ash, I had no choice but to put her down.” Chance’s anger ignited the way a spark would set a house ablaze. He waved his arms wildly in the air and shook his head back and forth violently.

  “You know we do not kill them unless it is absolutely necessary, what were you thinking? Chance asked, still shaking his head. “We cannot be killed but they can.”

  Davon felt as though he could laugh even though there was nothing funny about the situation. He was so frustrated with his elder and with the hidden information that he couldn’t quite figure out what to do or say next. Chance, why didn’t you tell us the angel blade was real? Do you not care if we die? was all he could think about saying but that certainly would not have gone over well.

  He thought about the moment his sword pierced through Serena’s neck. The way the vibrations from the sword hitting bone felt on his hand. The way it went through her like she was nothing more than a loaf of bread. He watched the life drain out of her like water pouring out of a running faucet. An aura of black surrounded her as she went and he knew her soul was taking a one-way trip into the darkest depths of Hell where Satan himself never ventured.

  “That’s what I need to speak with you about Chance.” Davon moved toward the Great Wall. His strides were short and slow. “Serena had something on her, something I thought did not exist.”

  He paused and pulled out a thin brick that was embedded within the wall. As it slid out of place the scraping sound echoed through Davon’s ears and bounced off the walls surrounding him. He turned the brick so that the narrow edges faced him where razor thin slits had been sliced through the length of the brick. He pulled thin parchment paper out of the opening and placed the brick on the ground in front of him. Chance’s gaze widened as he began to see the images drawn upon the parchment.

  The particular record Davon pulled from the Great Wall was that explaining about the angel blade, a record he had stumbled upon once before. On the parchment paper the silver blade sat in the middle of the record surrounded by images of dead angels with their wings black and bloody. Beneath the picture sat Hebrew lettering, מות מלאך, meaning “angel death.”

  “Once Ash and I took out the twenty or so Descended as Serena sat back watching, she attacked Ash and had him pinned beneath this blade,” Davon held up the parchment so that Chance could see the drawings within the paper. “A blade you told us did not exist.”

  Chance moved forcefully toward Davon and ripped the paper from his hands. He stared at the drawing of the blade as if he’d never seen it before. His gaze began to move throughout the room until it landed on the top of the stairs. “Was this the blade Serena wielded?” Chance asked as his gaze caught met Ash who was leaning on the edge of the banister with his arms folded across his chest.

  Davon was surprised to see his partner. He had promised that he wouldn’t say a word to Chance until after Katharine’s ascension but he didn’t believe a weapon that could end everything in Heaven was less important than a Tracker’s ascension. “What are you doing here?”

  Ash slid down the banister the way a child would make their way down a slide in a playground. He landed firmly on his feet, albeit harder than he anticipated. The landing sent sharp pains through his spine. He winced but was able to collect himself enough to take the paper from Chance’s outstretched hands. He examined the paper as if he were reading a letter from a loved one. He moved his head backward as though he were surprised by the image he saw in front of him.

  The parchment paper sitting in his hand held a picture of the blade that nearly took his life. It was the angel blade, the weapon his elder had kept secret from him and the other boy.

  Ash had two options, he could admit to having seen the blade and join Davon in trying to find out the truth or he could play dumb and not risk being sent on a run just before Katharine’s ascension.

  Were he to choose the latter he would betray his partner the only Guide willing to work with him. He also had not yet told Davon that Serena was not in fact dead as she and the angel blade had disappeared. Davon’s gaze fixed on Ash, who handed the paper back to Chance, discarding it the way he would a piece of trash.

  “The blade on that paper,” Ash started as he glanced briefly in Davon’s direction, he was glaring so intensely it was as if he were trying to send a message telepathically. “is the same one that Serena nearly took my head off with.”

  Davon released an exasperated sigh
relieved that Ash had not thrown him to the wind and finally chosen the Guides over the Trackers. He looked at Ash as if he were seeing him for the first time.

  “This blade?” Chance said pointing at the parchment paper. Ash and Davon nodded in conjunction with one another. Chance fell back into the throne-like chair that sat behind him. His face turned a pale white. It became clear to the Guides that stood before him, that Chance really had not known that the angel blade was in the hands of one of the Descended. “Ajme meni,” Chance said in the elder’s native tongue, Croatian.

  The room fell silent, with only the sound of heavy breathing coming from Chance filling the room. A few times Ash opened his mouth to speak but slammed it shut before any words had the chance to escape. Davon was equally as silent. His guilt began to ride him the way a cowboy would ride a bronco.

  He had gone to Chance accusatorially assuming his elder had been keeping the angel blade a secret from them. Seeing Chance react so heavily to the knowledge that the blade was in the hands of their enemy made Davon doubt much of what he believed.

  “Where is it?” Chance said suddenly jolting up like he’d been given a shot of adrenaline, Davon and Ash jumped backward, startled by their elder’s rapid movement. Without giving them a chance to respond Chance asked the question a second time, “Where is it? Where is the angel blade?” Although he’d already set the question in motion he knew the answer. Had his Guides been able to get the blade that would have been the first thing Davon would have said upon their return to the Anchorage.

  “We were unable to acquire the blade. I am sorry to say we don’t know what has become of it,” Davon replied with a lowered head.

  Chance raised his hand in the air signaling for Davon to stop talking. He waved it rapidly continuing even after the boy had stopped speaking. Sinking back into the chair, Chance cupped his hand gently over his mouth and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes widened in their sockets and his pale face flushed over a deep red.

  He said nothing to the boys but repeated over and over, “Moram reci ostalima.” Ash recognized the phrase well, it was one the elders often said when one of them received valuable information that the rest of them might not have been privy too. It meant, “I must tell the others.”

  He began rocking back and forth in the chair. Davon and Ash shared telling glances, each motioning with their heads for the other to move toward Chance and try to find out if he was okay. After a silent debate it was Davon who was chosen to make the first move. He moved cautiously toward Chance, almost tiptoeing with his every step. He knelt down in front of Chance who, though his eyes were pointed directly in Davon’s direction, did not see him sitting there.

  “Chance…” Davon placed a gentle hand on Chance’s shoulder trying to get his elder’s attention. “Is there anything we can do?” Chance held his glare elsewhere as Davon looked up at Ash and shook his head hopelessly. Ash waved his hands for Ash to try again. “Chance, please tell us what we need to do.”

  Davon was hurting, he did not like thinking the worst of the man who raised him the way he wished his own father would have. He admired and looked up to Chance for his teachings and for his constant care of his Guides. Many of the elders remained silent watchers, never involving themselves in the ongoing of the Guides, but Chance threw himself in the middle of it. He was a constant presence in their lives and during their training.

  Chance shot backwards in the chair as if Davon had punched him clear across the face. He shook his head and looked directly at Davon whose mouth had dropped. “This ascension must go smoothly,” Chance said firmly. He stood confidently from the chair nearly knocking Davon, who was still kneeling in front of him, down. He turned to Ash who had an equally surprised look on his face and shook his finger wildly. “You must be nowhere near the garden when Katharine ascends, do you understand me?”

  Ash stood frozen by the frigid tone of Chance’s warnings. He could formulate nothing but a simple nod of the head. Davon collected himself and placed himself securely between Chance and Ash in an attempt to break the tension he saw developing.

  “What just happened?” Davon inquired of his elder.

  Without so much as a tilt of the head away from Ash’s direction, Chance replied to his Guide’s inquiry, “The other elders are coming to see that this ascension goes off without a hitch. Now more than ever before, we need our Tracker sharp. We have two missions now, to find the doorway before the Descended pass through it and to find the angel blade and bring it to Michael.”

  Ash shuddered at the sound of his father’s name. He wanted to keep his distance from anything having to do with his royal status. Had Davon not been there he would have thrown multiple questions at Chance as to why Michael was being given the blade. He knew the blade had been forged essentially from his grandfather but he thought it would be safer in their archives where none but the elders could touch it.

  The archives held some of Heaven’s most terrifying weapons including cupid’s arrow that could break a man’s heart in pieces were he not strong willed enough for love, or Lucifer’s staff that could evoke death with one simple touch and Gabriel’s sword, a weapon that help cast Lucifer into Hell. The elders were the only ones given access to the archives because they were the most trusted of all of God’s workers. They had earned the right to access and were strong enough to protect the archives if someone or something tried to breach the high walls that surrounded them.

  Ash often wondered what the archives actually looked like. Were they piled in boxes and stacked atop one another like the storage locker he had seen in Meadowbrook or were they placed in glass cases and put on display like they were at a museum? It was a question Ash would never find the answer too as not even Michael had access to them.

  The bellows of a new soul entering the gates of Heaven echoed throughout the garrison and alerted Chance that it was nearly time for the ascension to begin. He brushed past the boys and headed toward the Grand Wall to check that the disturbed bricks had been placed back in their appropriate spots.

  Calmly he turned to Ash and again warned him once more in a low tone about staying away from the ascension. “You were spared Purgatory before because I was feeling gracious, but so help me Ashford, if you show up at this ascension I will not be as inclined to be so lenient.”

  11

  ASCENSION

  Katharine found Chance and Molli waiting for her in the east garden. They stood by the entrance dressed in matching sheer white outfits with red silk embroidered collars. They looked like her neighbors; Mr. and Mrs. Blake, an elderly couple, who had been married for over fifty years.

  The Blakes always wore matching outfits, no matter what the occasion. When Katharine was seven-years-old and didn’t know any better, she asked Mrs. Blake why they always dressed alike to which she replied, “That’s what you do when you are still in love at our age.”

  The comparison brought a smile to Katharine’s face.

  The garden was lit with beautiful crimson lights that wrapped around the walls of the garden. The lights reflected off the flowers casting shadows that painted the shapes of angels. It was then that Katharine realized that the clusters of flowers weren’t simply grouped together; they were formed in the shape of the celestial souls they represented.

  At the garden wrapped into four distinctive corners and placed in each corner were unfamiliar faces. Two male faces and two female, each one more gorgeous than the other and each one dressed in the same embroidered outfit that Molli and Chance wore. The females, both with golden hair, were slender and wearing the bodies of twenty-something-year-olds. Their eyes, one with blue the other blessed with hazel, were locked on Katharine as she entered and made her way to the center of the garden, as Chance had gestured for her to do.

  The two males, one with dark red hair that sank just below his eyebrows allowing his piercing eyes to shine through and the other, hairless, drawing Katharine’s focus to the purple hue that glistened from his eyes. They both shared th
e same physique with Ash. Their focus was not like the females, as they seemed to be giving Chance their full attention.

  She searched the garden with her gaze hoping to see Ash’s face staring back at her. Her eyes met nearly every inch of the place but there was no sign of Ash. He’s really not coming. Her heart sank, he had been so willing to bend the rules before and of all the times for him to obey her ascension was the worst time. His face was the one thing she wanted to see even standing there among the beautiful flowers that surrounded her, Ash was all she could think about.

  She closed her eyes and tried to recreate the feeling she’d had earlier when they were together. She locked in on his face and held onto it before opening her eyes hoping that she could somehow magically make him appear before her.

  “He’s not coming,” Chance said catching Katharine’s wandering eyes. He made his way toward an opening in the flowerbeds where only a few flowers were growing. The surrounding clusters waved in a methodical dance as the breeze from Chance’s movement brushed by them. “Ash has always been one to bend the rules but a direct order from me is not one he would take lightly.”

  Katharine played dumb shrugging her shoulders as if she had no idea what Chance was talking about. Molli bowed and shook her head with a satisfied smile.

  “Who are they?” Katharine asked nodding her head in the direction of the four cornered figures.

  “That’s Calypso, Seraphina, Elijah and Atlas, celestial’s most infinite elders. They are here to make sure your ascension goes well. We can’t afford to lose our last remaining Tracker.”

  Chance motioned for Molli to join him in the opening among the flowers; her movement was fluid and swift. She barely disturbed a single pedal. She smiled at Katharine as she took her place beside Chance and when she was sure he was not looking she motioned with her head for Katharine to look up. She did so only when Chance was bending down to pick something up from beneath his feet.