by Katrina Cope
I remain silent while continuing to stroke her hair. I saw his body—it is clear something happened to him. Someone has killed him. I feel more tears running down onto my shirt, saturating it. Her body rocks slightly with her sobs then stills.
She struggles to speak, pushing through with a constricted throat. “Something happened to him,” she croaks. “He. It was. He…” Her shoulders heave up and down in slight movements as more sobs push out. She's struggling to get the words out. “He… He killed Mama. He attacked her.” Her body jerks again with more sobs, and she sniffles, wiping her nose. “I tried to stop him. I tried, but he kept attacking Mama. Mama just stood there, looking at him in shock. She didn't fight back as he wielded the machete at her. He cut her up, piece by piece, even though she looked at him with love, and her eyes filled with terror, confusion and hurt. I don't know what got into him.”
She stops, and I can feel her body jerking in my embrace. My arms fuse around her, and my body freezes as I listen to her words. I know that Piers loved Caitline deeply. I can't think of anything that would make him do this to her.
“I screamed at Papa, and I tried to grab his arm, but he was too strong, and he just kept going for Mama.” She pauses as she struggles with her emotions. “I screamed and screamed at him to stop, but he kept going.” She wipes her nose and digs her fingers deeper into Mademoiselle's feathers. “When he finally looked at me, I couldn't see Papa in his eyes. It was like he was gone. He wasn't there anymore. Something else was there. And when he finished with Mama, he came after me. I hit him with some stunning spells, and I ran. I ran into the barn looking for you, but you weren't there.”
She looks at me, her eyes puffy and red, confusion filling them. “You weren't in your room, and you weren't fixing Papa's tools. I didn't know where you were.”
I pull my eyes from hers and look at the golden necklace hanging around her neck. I had given her the necklace not long before, and I wonder why she didn't use it. Perhaps the shock of what was happening was too much for her to register that she had something to call me by. My heart sinks, weighed down with utter devastation to know this.
Originally, I thought that a group of people must've attacked them at the farm. I was wrong. It sounds more as though Piers had been possessed somehow. Perhaps the gatekeeper is the cause of this, leading his demons to where they lived. He must've found out where I've been staying—either that or he must've been looking for Ava and found her.
She continues, pulling me from my thoughts. “After I checked your room, I went to the tool area. I saw the tools you had been working on and saw that they were all fixed. So I turned to leave the barn and find you when I realized Papa was blocking the doorway. I sent more stunning curses his way, but nothing seemed to work. It's almost as though he became immune to them on the small trip from the house to the barn. I was petrified and didn't know what to do. I felt myself pressing up against the bench and felt the cold hard steel underneath my fingers as I pressed my back against the bench.” She wipes the tears away from her eyes and swallows as though the next part is harder to say. “I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the scythe, waiting for Papa to come closer. I hoped and prayed that he would stop coming. I didn't want to hurt him, and I didn't want to be hurt.”
She throws her head into her hands and sobs, shaking her head back and forth. “I didn't want to hurt him,” she repeats. “But when he kept coming, my fingers wrapped around the tool, and I swung it over my shoulders and aimed down at him. I don't think he was expecting it because he didn't show any signs of defense as it rammed straight into his heart.”
She stops, and her body rocks violently. She sniffles and wipes her nose, rubbing her hands over her eyes. “I killed him.” Sobs attack her body again.
Disturbed by the harsh movements, the chicken stands and climbs out of her lap. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. “It's not your fault, Ava,” I coo, trying to comfort her yet also telling the truth. “It sounds as though something possessed your father.”
She looks up, her green eyes bleary and red. With my angelic vision, I can see them clearly in the darkness. “What you mean, ‘possessed’?”
“I mean that demons can be inserted into humans, and they can take over them and cause them to do terrible, evil things. It is a favorite pastime for a few greater demons. They enjoy possessing humans and watching the destruction they cause, usually killing their loved ones first. This sounds like what happened to your papa. He was a good man. I know it. Unfortunately, it is a good man that the demons like to target first. They are thrilled to watch them kill the people that are most precious to them, the ones who trust them with their lives.”
“Could he have been saved?” she asks.
“We could have removed the demon, and yes, we could have placed a new conscience into him. But, often the people who receive this new conscience don't handle it well. Some will commit suicide, and some will go insane to different degrees because they remember what they did when they were possessed. And this is what they want.” I run a hand through her hair, stroking down the side of her face. “I know your papa loved your mama. I know he would have done anything for her. And I'm pretty sure that if we had been in time to set a conscience into him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Especially given the graphic thing he did to your mama. It wasn't a nice death, and he wouldn't forgive himself for that.”
“But I killed him,” she chokes.
“You killed the demon, and yes, your father would most likely be one who would kill himself afterward, anyway. Do not let the kill eat at you. You only sped up the inevitable.” I scoop her face between my palms and turn it to look at me. “Do you understand? Do you understand that you're not to blame?”
Her eyes fill with puzzlement. Guilt overcomes her. After a moment's hesitation, she stares at me, and a slight burden lifts off my heart.
“Your papa loved you. He wouldn't hold this against you, even if he was alive today in his normal form.”
She nods and snuggles back into my chest. I hold her, and she cries herself to sleep. I stroke her hair. I don’t want to take her into any of the buildings now. They are full of haunted memories.
- Chapter Eighteen -
With Ava snuggled in my arms, I look around through the stillness of the night, studying the animals as I think. Deep anger burns inside of me—I’m annoyed that I was possibly the cause of this. In hindsight, the gatekeeper must've tricked us. He must've attacked Michael to lure me away so he could get to Ava. In his brief disappearance, the demons he let through his portal were a distraction, nothing else, and I fell for it.
I study Ava's face as she sleeps soundly against my chest. She is in her late teens, and because of her excessively sheltered life, she is still a girl in need of protection. Piers and Caitline were kind to her and had brought her up well, but they should've been training her to fight rather than hiding her powers. Now, other than me, she is left alone to defend herself against the world. I know I must stay with her and train her. I don't know much about her powers, but I know she needs to use them, and who else better to teach her in mortal combat than me? After all, I am the right-hand angel of Archangel Michael.
One of the chickens clucks in the darkness, and I search for it, at the same time picturing images of the past. These images confirm one thing. We can't stay here. From now on, this place is going to give her nightmares. Not only did she see the slaughter of her mother in cold blood, but she also had to kill her own papa. Those memories will never leave her, especially if triggered by staying here.
Slowly, I heave her off my chest and scramble to my knees with her still in my arms. When I place her gently on the ground, she pulls up her legs, curling into a tight ball. There remains no threat here. It has gone, although I have a mess to clean.
At the edge of the farm, I dig a couple of holes. Then, using my angelic powers, I collect all of Caitline's pieces and place them in one hole, and then I remove the scythe from Piers�
�s chest and bury him alongside his wife, putting headstones in the dirt above their heads. With the unpleasant business taken care of, I collect Ava's spellbook and return to her, scoop her into my arms, and take to the sky.
I'm not in a hurry, and I flap my wings slowly and steadily, searching the area through the woods for a little spot to camp. We enter the woods, traveling a couple of miles from the house. The farm is already isolated, so I don't need to go too far to find a different secluded spot. I look at her face. It makes me glad that she is still passed out—I don't want her to revisit the farm and rekindle horrible memories. It is best if she doesn't know where it is.
Happy with my choice, I land and clear the trees, laying Ava in the middle. Using my angelic powers, I construct a hut just big enough for a couple of rooms and a kitchen, making sure it has a nice big iron-belly stove. I lay Ava down on her bed, which I have concocted from the natural surroundings, and then I glance at the forest. She has enough food to eat, and I can find her some animals to cook up in a stew. I strap together a rotisserie over the fire so she will have something to eat when she wakes up. With my chores complete, I sit next to the fire, making sure the food doesn't burn. My mind wanders back to the archangels. I wonder how they went with Michael and how they went with the other demons.
Raphael? I say in my head.
Yes, Zacharias?
How's Michael doing?
He has healed nicely and is almost back to full strength.
That's good to hear. How did you go with the rest of the demons? Did the others manage to fight them off?
There is a slight pause. That's the strange thing. The second you left, they disappeared. The gatekeeper took them back through the portal.
What? I ask. I can't believe what I am hearing. I had suspected that it was only a diversion, but actually hearing this is mind-blowing.
It was like it was a setup. Although Gabriel and Uriel had killed a vast number of the demons, the rest just disappeared not long after you left.
Are you saying they attacked Michael so that they could pull me away from Ava? I ask.
Possibly. Otherwise, it seems rather strange. Usually, they don't just disappear. What do you mean by pulling you away from Ava? he asks. I saw you take off in a hurry. Why was that?
Ava and her family were under attack. I could feel Ava's essence burning inside me. Something was wrong. Michael was right. When I got to the farm, Ava's mother was slaughtered, and Ava's father had been killed. It turns out they possessed Ava's father, and he slaughtered her mother. He only stopped when Ava pitched a tool through his chest—one that I had angelically blessed.
That's horrid. And the girl, Ava. How is she?
She is fine, sort of. Mentally, she isn't fine. Physically, she is. It is going to take her a while to heal. I am going to remain and protect her for a while. I have packed up, and we have moved to another area, just she and I. I'm going to train her to use her powers.
- Chapter Nineteen -
Pure-green eyes fixate on me, and I know I'm in trouble. I watch her eyes, at the same time paying attention to what her body language is telling me. It barely helps. The only action I pick up on is a twist of her wrists, and then her arms fling straight in my direction.
I swallow, and my eyes widen. Several swords rise from the patio of the cottage and come flying my way. They are all lined up, blade side first and aiming straight for me. I tuck in my wings and shoot up to the sky, feeling the breeze from the swords as they pass, narrowly missing my limbs and heart. I loose a breath. That was close.
While levitating, I send pulses at Ava. White light shoots at her, and she deflects it by creating a barrier with her witch powers. She's getting stronger, far stronger than I had imagined, but I'm not telling her in case it goes to her head.
“Admit it! You're losing, old man!” she hollers at me.
I can't believe what she just said. “I may be thousands of years old, but I'm not an old man. I'm far from it. Just because you're barely older than eighteen doesn’t mean I’m an old man.” We've managed to hide out in the new area where I built the log cabin several years ago.
“Nice one! You know I am nearly twenty-one.” Magically, she picks up a sword and directs it straight toward me as I remain in the air. I throw my hips forward and feel it slice off a few of my white feathers as it passes.
Acting quickly, I grasp the hilt before it is out of my reach. “You must've had a good teacher.”
“Very modest, aren't we?” Her lips straighten into a thin line. “Perhaps I've learned a few tricks on my own.”
I throw the sword in her direction, and she spins it around mid-flight, redirecting it to aim at me, accompanied by several other sharp objects. I don't even know where they came from. Immediately after the objects fly, she pulses magic in my direction. I drop to the ground and dodge them, sending my own angelic pulses to knock the projectiles to the side and away from me. I want to wipe the sweat off my brow, except I'm not willing to use my arm for purposes other than defending myself. She has learned so much in the few years we've been hidden away. Her power has grown.
Thankfully, we haven't had any more threats since our last day on the farm, and we have trained religiously every day. I don't know how much longer I'm needed to protect her. Despite my love and dedication to serving at Michael's side, I enjoy her company, and I'm in no hurry to leave. I've become quite fond of the girl. Occasionally, I leave when Michael needs my help.
I realize that I let myself get distracted when I see a dagger flying at my leg. I move, only to feel pain when it nicks my skin, leaving a deep gash. I chastise myself. I was so distracted thinking about her and what she can do that I didn't see it coming. Seconds later, something slams into my other leg. The pain is excruciating. It shoots all the way up my leg into my torso. I grit my teeth, trying hard not to let out a bellow of pain, and look down at the source. Sticking out of the side of my thigh is a dagger.
Another burning pain wedges into my side, and I curse. I'm letting myself get too distracted. I look down and see another dagger sticking out of the side of my torso, not far from a kidney. This time, a groan escapes my lips.
My body screams in pain, and I gaze at her just in time to see more daggers flying my way. She isn't holding back because she knows that if I receive any severe wounds, I can call Raphael to come and heal me. But it still hurts. I dash to the sky, pushing down hard with my wings while trying to ignore the pain. I narrowly miss the new onslaught of daggers.
“Do you give in yet, old man?” A wry smile crosses her face.
I clench my teeth tighter, trying to stop myself from hurling insults back at her. She is rude, and she knows it. I tense and fling a pulse at her while calling to my ax with an outstretched hand. The ax hits my hand for a split second before I spin and let it fly, watching as it swings in a rotating motion in her direction. I press my tongue to the top of my mouth, waiting for it to hit, only for it to bounce off a solid wall of magic. My shoulders sag as I watch it fall to the ground. I dive to collect the daggers and aim them at her, again only to have them bounce off the solid wall of magic. I clutch my side and kneel on all fours.
I hear her voice taunting me. “You sure you're okay?”
I don't answer. Instead, I curve into a ball with my hands still clutching my sides.
I can hear her soft footsteps approaching. “Are you okay?”
I don't answer and remain still as she inches closer.
“Zacharias? You okay?”
I listen to her footsteps, ever so soft and uncertain while they approach. When I know she is only a few feet away, I fling myself to my back on the ground and throw my hand up in the air, flicking a pulse at her. It takes her by surprise and hits her fair in the chest. It is her turn to collapse to the ground on all fours. She groans in pain, clutching her stomach. I didn't use deadly pulses when in training and know that although she hurts, she is going to be okay. She isn't going to die or be permanently injured. I grin. She deserves it after all th
e pain she has inflicted on me.
The crawl to my feet is painful, but I persist. I saunter toward her, still clutching my side and holding my wound. Blood from my body covers my hands. I place a hand on her back. “Ava, are you okay?”
She doesn't answer me and keeps holding her stomach with her head tucked. Her body curls up like a porcupine.
“Ava, are you okay?”
She remains curled.
I move my hand to her shoulder. “Ava?”
Still no answer. I roll her shoulder back to bring her face to look at me. Her face is alert, and her body burns with incredible heat. I can't help wondering what I've done. I am sure that I tamed my power enough not to hurt her badly. I've never seen her react like this before when my power has hit her. “Ava, are you okay? You're worrying me.”
She still doesn’t answer. Gradually, her eyes turn to me, and they aren't right. The green in her eyes pops out as though it has a lamp behind them, accentuating the color into its purest form. The brightness is alluring, although it isn't normal. It still feels as though something is wrong. Her expression is still vacant.
I place a hand on her cheek to see if my touch will pull her out of this stupor. The skin on her cheek is burning. “Ava, say something!”
She just stares at me, and her body starts to quiver. At the same time, the color in her eyes changes again, and her expression radiates deep anger while her body continues to quiver violently in front of me. It's almost as though her body is shaking from the anger within. She hisses at me, and I think I see steam come out of her mouth. I blink in confusion. This is strange. It is summer, and the weather isn't that cold. There shouldn't be any mist or steam coming out of her mouth.
“Ava, are you okay?” Her eyes are set, and her pupils take on a different form, with what looks like slits down the middle. I am lost. What is going on?
Raphael, I call in my head, but it’s followed by silence. I call out again. Raphael, I need you to come now.