The Boy Who Played With Stars

by Terry Reid

  “I remember,” Alex said. “You never told me because you were so embarrassed,” he laughed. “But here we are. To be honest with you, it was the one vision of yours that’s kept me going these last few years.”

  “And you’ve been what’s kept me going,” she said, pulling him in for a kiss.

  John sat at a large, round oaken table with the other wedding guests. He twisted his head around again to see if he could catch a glimpse of Amber and Alex again among the trees, but they were gone.

  “Give them some peace,” Chris said, with a smile.

  “I was just…” John stuttered, flushing with embarrassment.

  Christopher laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “I know, I know. I was only joking. Here, have some cake.” He passed John a plate of fruit cake.

  “Where are they going?” The teenager asked the table. His question drew surprised looks and sniggers but no answers.

  Christopher handed him a fork, laughing. “Just enjoy your cake.” John tucked in, but his gaze drifted back to the woods, as did his thoughts.

  “What are you thinking about?” Mike asked.

  John looked at him across the table. “Nothing…just…for some reason this place just reminded me of Hayley’s sword being found in the woods. Madam Kiki’s gardener found it or something, I don’t know.” He shook his head and dug his fork into his cake again. “She still doesn’t know how it got there.”

  “I left it there.”

  John’s eyes darted back up from his cake. “What? Why?”

  Michael continued to smile. “I left it in a safe place for Amber to find when she needed it most.”

  “But she told me that gardener found it years ago.” He shook his head, baffled. “How could you have known when she would have needed it? I thought the future had been changed. That’s what you’ve all been saying for ages.”

  “It is a good thing that it was only forged and sent back in time yesterday then,” Michael said with a wink, before returning to eating his cake.

  John stared at him, speechless.

  ******

  The house was dark by the time they returned. Stacy and John stepped over the threshold of the door first, sharing a joke. Christopher came second, followed by Amber and Alex, arm in arm.

  John’s eyes grew wide when he looked back to see the summer woodland through the door. “Any chance we could get that here?” he asked, laughing.

  Alex smiled. “I think it’s best if we keep Purgatory and Earth separate as we’ve always done. Don’t worry spring is only a few weeks away anyway.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Stacy. “The weatherman said this cold snap was supposed to last until the end of March.”

  “Well, I’m better than the weatherman,” Alex boasted, plucking at his tie.

  “Would anyone like a cup of tea?” Stacy offered.

  Alex’s smile faded. “No, not for me, thanks,” he replied quietly.

  “It’s not like you to turn down a cup of tea, are you feeling all right?” Stacy asked, laughing. She quietened down once she saw the look on the former guardian’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m afraid it’s time for us to say goodbye.”

  Stacy blinked. “But we’ll see you later?”

  Alex shook his head. “Not this time, Mrs Hughes. I’m sorry.”

  She walked towards him. “Why?”

  “Because our time here is at an end,” he said.

  “What if something happens though?”

  Alex shook his head. “Nothing will happen,” he said softly, glancing out the living room window to the silent, snowy street beyond. “Everything is how it’s meant to be now.” Stacy looked hurt. “Don’t worry,” Alex laughed. “Christopher will still be here. He’s got to keep an eye on John.”

  John folded his arms. “And what is it I’m supposed to do? I don’t want to go through all that’s happened ever again all for the sake of being a bloody War Child or whatever you call it. I just want to be normal.”

  “And you will be, John,” Amber said, placing her hand on his arm. “Go live your life. Go to college, raise a family, go have the life I could never have.”

  “You should have got to do those things.” John shook his head. “It isn’t fair.”

  Hayley smiled sadly. “It never is.” She hugged him. “Take care of yourself.”

  “And you,” John said, crying into her shoulder. When they parted, she hugged his mother as well, before moving onto Christopher. “You stay safe as well,” she said, squeezing him.

  Chris kissed her on the cheek and smiled, looking as much as his older brother as he ever did. “I will try my best.”

  Alex took his new wife by the hand and led her to the doorway and the summer sun that waited beyond.

  “Alex,” John said, getting the angel’s attention. “Will we ever see you again?”

  Alex smiled that lopsided grin of his as he reached for the door handle. “Oh I bet you will.” With a wink, he shut the door, casting the room into darkness. Christopher turned on a nearby lamp but the illumination paled into comparison to the land they had just come from.

  John walked tentatively towards the door. Despite all rational reason, he reached for the cold handle and turned it - to find a dark, empty hallway. “Show off,” he muttered, slamming the door shut, closing the hall and that chapter of his life.

  Epilogue

  The messenger flinched, shocked by his master’s volatile outburst. In a blink he had risen and destroyed everything in the large subterranean anti-theatre with a swipe of his hand. Everything had turned to dust: the war table, the stones chairs, the statues, all had combusted separately in flashes of white, hot flame. The bangs they made when they went up had made the servant cringe.

  When he looked up again the servant found his master had regained his usual cool composure. Gathering his draping black coat tails, he carefully resumed the seat of his high backed throne. His grey, lifeless eyes found the messenger again. “I should have taken him at Longtown.” He gritted his teeth. “I should have known those spinning blades he had stolen from killing one of the demons were there as well!” he hissed. “How dare he steal from me!” He brought his fist down hard on his arm rest, causing the entire throne to shake.

  “If I may, my lord…” the messenger began nervously. He was a stick of a twisted man. His half deformed face and buckled limbs were hidden by the volumes of his vast, black cloak. “He will not keep him under his protection forever. One day he will let Gabriel go.”

  Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “You think I do not know this?” he asked, his voice on the verge of breaking into shouting. “It could be a hundred years or it could be a thousand! It could be a million!” he hissed, spitting. His servant flinched. Ignoring his discomfort, Lucifer smoothed out the creases in his black trousers. “I will not wait that long,” he said casually, his eyes flitting to the messenger. “Gather the war council,” he shouted, rising sharply to his feet. “We must address this setback,” he said with a sneering smile.

  The trembling servant lowered his eyes, too frightened to gaze upon his master’s face any longer. “Yes…yes…my Lord…” he turned to hobble away as quickly as his twisted legs would carry him.

  “And be quick about it, Adam,” Lucifer shouted after him. “Do not give me another reason to shatter your bones.”

  Adam shivered beneath his cloak but did not turn back. Instead he hobbled away a little bit faster, fearing the fate that awaited him if he displeased his new master.

 

 

 
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