Embers

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  The smug look on Aunt Ila’s face unnerved me about as much as her proclamation. But even though I wanted to scream out in protest, or perhaps even fall onto the floor laughing, I did neither.

  I swallowed a gulp and stared out the kitchen window into the inky darkness. The popping song of tree frogs drifted in and I tilted my head to listen. An owl screeched and crickets chirped. The ordinary night sounds grounded me, making me stubborn.

  “Really, you need to go to the hospital and have your hands taken care of. We can talk about this later.”

  Aunt Ila’s gaze was unflinching for a several long seconds until her eyes narrowed. I didn’t look away, even though I really wanted to.

  Her mouth began to quiver, and then she laughed. Not just a chuckle either, but a loud, from-the-belly sort of roar that bothered me immensely.

  As quickly as the insane laughter had started, she suddenly quieted and jabbed her fingers into my face.

  I sat back down feeling dizzy all over again.

  Aunt Ila’s hands didn’t look the way they had a minute ago. The loose flesh was gone. The crispy barbeque smell had disappeared as well. They were red and a little swollen, but that was it. Somehow, her skin had just healed from severe third degree burns in a matter of minutes.

  When I finally found my voice, I blurted out, “But I saw how burned you were.” Reaching, I took her hands in my own, turning them over and feeling them. They were cool and smooth now. I leaned in closer for a better look. “This is impossible,” I whispered.

  “No, it certainly is possible. I’m also a Watcher.” She said it in such a casual way that it made the shock wear off a little bit. “That’s the reason why you’ve come to live with me. Even if there had never been an accident, your mother would have sent you to me upon your eighteenth birthday.

  “Of course, you really should have come to me years ago, as is tradition in the old ways. But late is better than never.”

  Processing the information as best I could, I watched Aunt Ila go to the sink and wash the black residue from her skin. She then slipped on two potholders and pulled the casserole from the oven as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “You mean, my parents knew about this—they knew that I was a …Watcher?” It was awkward just saying it.

  “Your mother did. I informed her of the blessing when you visited here before. When was that? Oh, about ten years ago, I reckon.” She talked as she worked in the kitchen, cutting a loaf of bread and taking dishes down from the cupboards. “Your father was ignorant though. Human men don’t need to know such things.”

  Questions sparked my mind. As my mouth began working them into speech, she noticed, hushing me with a finger to her lips.

  “My dear, your mother came here for the sole purpose of determining whether you possessed the gift. She didn’t want to bring you, hardly understanding it herself, but I compelled her to come, to present you to me as is proper for a girl child of my lineage. When you popped out of the vehicle and I saw you for the first time, I knew. I could hardly contain my joy. But, I had to keep up appearances. I put on a placid face for the benefit of your father and brother. It was difficult though. I had thought that I was the last Watcher of our bloodline.”

  She stopped and looked at me with a smile. “Your mother should have left you with me then, but she insisted on taking you home. She promised to bring you back when you were eighteen. I was conflicted about it, worrying that it would be more difficult to teach a young woman than an impressionable child.

  “In the end, I decided not to meddle with your mother’s wishes. It’s hard to give up a child, especially in this age when the magic in the world is almost lost.” Aunt Ila’s voice held a hint of melancholy.

  “Was my mother some kind of Watcher?”

  Aunt Ila placed the casserole, bread and dishes on the table. Everything smelled delicious. I suddenly realized I was very hungry.

  “Help yourself and don’t be shy about it. You need the food after that use of power. It will bring your strength back.” She brought a clear pitcher full of milk to the table and poured two glasses. Then she went back to the fridge and took out a large ceramic bowl. She spooned some of the contents into two separate smaller bowls and placed them on the ground.

  Angus and Riley waited patiently until she made a gesture with her hand and then both dogs converged on their dishes. She put the bowl and the milk back into the fridge and sat down at the table.

  I thought she must have forgotten my question and was about to ask it again when she said, “No, no. Your mother didn’t inherit the gift and neither had your grandmother, nor your great grandmother. As a matter of fact, there have been no Watchers in the family for twelve generations, since I was born in 1686.”

  That would make her, and I had to calculate in my mind for several seconds, three hundred and twenty four years old. Yesterday, I wouldn’t have believed it, but now, all I could do was say, “Wow.”

  “Ah, so, you’re really related to me after all?” When I asked this, I realized that I hoped her answer would be yes. It would mean that Timmy and Aunt Connie weren’t the only family I had.

  “Ember, you are my granddaughter, too many generations removed to count.” She passed the bread to me. I stopped eating the delicious vegetable casserole to butter a slice. It was strange dinner talk, for sure, but I felt lighter than I had in years. My entire life finally made sense.

  “There have been Watchers in our bloodline since the beginning of time. In our family, the tie is passed down to the female offspring. In the past, whenever a child was gifted, she was taken from her family and raised by the Watchers.

  “In the days when I was young and growing up in England, there were many of us and we had fellowship with one another. We were strictly disciplined, governing ourselves by laws passed down for thousands of years.” She paused, glancing at the darkness past the window before continuing. “In the later years, everything changed for our kind when we became persecuted by the very creatures that our fathers had been sworn to serve. Resentment grew among the Watchers, especially those born through the male bloodlines. There was a rebellion and mankind would have been lost if enough of the Watchers hadn’t stood up for the first oath that their ancestors had made to protect the humans. Watchers dying in servitude of mankind…”

  Aunt Ila wrinkled her nose and puckered her lips in disgust, and I found myself holding my breath, suddenly very worried about what she was about to say.

  “…was the way of Grace. The laws from before the first book were upheld, and the surviving Watchers went into hiding, both the good…and the evil ones.”

  I finally took a deep breath and asked, “What exactly are Watchers? Where did they come from?”

  Her green eyes were sharply focused, but when she spoke, it was only a whisper.

  “They are the decedents of the one’s that God adored first, the ones whose favor was replaced by humans—the ones who hated men, but fell in love with their daughters.”

  When the room fell silent, I heard Father Palano’s words all too clearly in my mind.

  “Creatures that the Bible speaks of and that I’d imagined figuratively are real. Very real, and they walk among us. The mating of God’s sons and man’s daughters in the beginning created all manner of half humans, some good and most evil. They’ve been among us forever and we never even realized it.”

  It made sense, in a disturbingly crazy sort of way. I couldn’t deny that I’d stood in a fire that had melted everything else around me or that my entire life had been injury and sickness free. Nor could I ignore that Aunt Ila was confirming what the priest had already told me.

  Still…it hurt my head just thinking about it in terms of being realistic.

  With a shaky breath, I faced Aunt Ila and said with purposeful slowness.

  “So I’m descended from an angel?”

  Matthew 24:31

  And He will send His angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they will gather together His ele
ct from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.

  Ember ~ Nine

  Her single nod confirmed it.

  I was suddenly very tired. The cloud of doom and gloom that I had managed to keep somewhat at bay for months flowed freely in. I just wanted to sleep—and never wake up.

  Plain and simple, I wanted to die. Tremors of chaos and struggle pressed into me and I had a sickening premonition of a world of war, decay, and fire. My soul was wimping out. I didn’t want to face any of it. I wanted peace. But that was impossible now.

  Aunt Ila continued to watch me. She was waiting for my reaction, holding her own breath at what I would say, or do.

  I chose the path of grudging calmness.

  “Do Watchers live forever?”

  “Nothing lives forever my dear, but most Watchers enjoy the longevity that the first men did. Eight hundred years is not uncommon for some of us.”

  “Can they be killed?”

  “Of course they can! Don’t be lulled into believing that you’re immortal. The angels are the ones that never die. We have man’s weaknesses.”

  She stood up and stretched before she picked up her plate. I rose and helped her carry the dishes to the sink, but I needed to know more.

  I started to open my mouth but she stopped me. “I know you have questions, but honestly I can’t answer them all in one night. There is time for me to tell you everything, but now you need to sleep.” She poured another cup of tea and handed it to me. “This will help you fall asleep. Drink it down while I show you to the bedroom.”

  Maybe I was an idiot, but I wanted to trust her. I still had doubts about her agenda, but taking a leap of faith seemed the best option at the moment. The priest had told me to trust Fate and so far, things had worked out all right.

  I took the tea and drank it down. The woodsy, bitter taste was difficult to swallow at first, but by the last drop, I was immune. And the stuff worked fast. I was already yawning as I followed Aunt Ila to the back of the cabin with Angus close on my heel.

  Without having to ask, Aunt Ila guided me into the bathroom and left me alone. I took only a couple of minutes to splash water on my face and to relieve myself.

  When I came out, my eyes were dropping shut on their own accord. Aunt Ila stood next to a bed pushed up against the wall. It was beneath a window and the cool evening air drifted in. She pulled the blankets down and motioned me into the bed. It was as if I was five again and Mom was tucking me in. With exhaustion sweeping over me, I wasn’t about to argue.

  “Good night, my dear. Sleep well, for tomorrow will be a busy day.” She touched my cheek. It felt as if a butterfly was caressing my skin. Then she bent down and kissed my forehead.

  “Good night,” I murmured.

  After she left, the bed creaked when Angus climbed up and settled down beside me. He was so big that part of him was on top of my legs. As usual, my dog had limited me to being squished up on a narrow strip of bed. I didn’t really mind though. On such a weird night, I was glad for the company.

  Even with everything Aunt Ila had told me, I wasn’t thinking about Watchers or even Angels when the blackness of unconsciousness came over me.

  My mind raced down the gravel road, passing the Sycamore trees and the tall, dried grass. The dark trees of the forest were still hiding their secrets in shadows, only now they resembled giants with bent, lumpy backs. An owl soared quietly across the dim sky. It looked down with unblinking glowing, yellow eyes.

  The further from the cabin I got, the more my heart raced, until I finally saw it; and then my heart stopped beating all together. The air became cold and heavy. I tried to turn around and go back, but I couldn’t move my legs.

  The wall loomed over me as I drifted into a fitful sleep full of nightmares.

  Jude 1:9

  Yet Michael the archangel, in contending with the devil, when he disputed about the

  body of Moses, dared not bring against him a reviling accusation,

  but said, “The Lord rebuke you!”

  Ember ~ Ten

  The leaves crunched beneath my bare feet and I cringed at the sound of it. My heart pounded frantically at the noise that seemed to echo loudly through the dark, misty forest. The edges of my vision were faded and everything I saw had the hollow feel of an illusion.

  I was in the dream world.

  I had visited here before. Sometimes it had been an open field and tall grass tickled my arms. Other times, I had lounged with the cats in the barn loft where I’d gaze through the window at Cricket while she ran through the pasture with a wild herd in a game known only to equines. Most times though, I was here, in the forest.

  But this wasn’t an exact duplicate of my other dreams. This forest was different. In the past, the sun had shone through the breaks in the branches to warm me. Butterflies had fluttered around and all kinds of animals greeted me with the touch of their soft noses. Sometimes the deer would stay with me on my wanders, quietly shadowing me through the trees.

  The forest that surrounded me now was swallowed in the kind of darkness you only found in the deepest part of night. There was a damp chill in the air that had me shivering in only a t-shirt. As my bare feet squished into the damp earth, I inwardly wished that I had fallen asleep wearing warm socks and tennis shoes.

  I paused, listening. Coyotes yapped in the distance and a whip-poor-will whistled its night song. The air was heavy with tension that raised goose bumps along my arms. I took a breath, trying to calm my nerves. A low growl erupted from the blackness. The sound was guttural and deep. I froze in place hoping that the creature didn’t notice me.

  Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind and attempted to change the scenery. I thought of the bright sunlight and the smell of pine needles. When I slit my eyes to take a peek, the light was moving toward me, pushing the darkness away. I’d altered my dreams before, so I wasn’t surprised.

  The wailing scream of a woman snapped my eyes wide open. The shrill noise began on my right, but shifted to the left and moved closer. Blazing red eyes stared out through the shadows of the naked branches and the growl returned, only it quickly turned into a hiss.

  The vision of a sun-filled happy forest disappeared completely. This dream was not the same as the ones that had entertained me in the past. Fear suddenly gripped my insides.

  I had no control here, and the forest was full of terrible things.

  I began to run, dodging limbs and jumping over stumps and rocks. I had to reach Aunt Ila’s valley. Even in a dream, I was sure I’d be safe there.

  An exposed root grabbed at my foot causing me to stumble. I frantically brought my leg out to brace myself, but I wasn’t quick enough. The ground caught me hard as I fell into the slimy, rotten leaves.

  The woman’s voice was joined by a crying child. The sounds reached out from behind me, almost touching my back with solidity. When I glanced into the trees, I saw distorted faces forming around the crimson eyes. They were a horrible blend of animal and human features, with tails of flashing scales.

  My heart raced out of control and I held my breath. Thick darkness blinded me and I reached out frantically with my hands, trying to see with them. I snatched them back when my fingertips brushed the rough scrape of solid boards.

  I raised my head slowly, not wanting to see it, but knowing it was there. The wooden wall towered over me, shooting into the sky. I could barely make out the top of it. A spray of moonlight landed on the wall, leaving me in its black shadow. I tried to crawl away from the structure, but the trees pressed in closer. They moved on their own accord against me.

  As I cowered in the darkness, my stomach tightened with queasiness. I could barely catch a breath. The voices grew louder. Their wails encased my body in a cold touch that passed through my skin and straight into my soul.

  I placed my hands to my ears to try to block out the sounds, but it didn’t help.

  “Please, stop, stop the pain,” a woman cried.

  “No, don’t do it. Leave me alone,” the
child yelled.

  “Go away…you’re hurting me,” another woman wept.

  “Damn you to hell,” came the whisper of a man.

  The growls and hisses of the monsters in the shadows were pounding inside my head. The trees crowded me, their trunks bent grotesquely and their branches scratching at me as if they were fingers of skeletons.

  I screamed, my own voice joining the pain and suffering of the apparitions that I couldn’t see while I swatted at the tree limbs helplessly. I felt the sting of tearing flesh and the wetness of blood on my hands.

  Suddenly, a bright light appeared beside one of the trees. I stopped fighting and dropped my arms to my sides. The glimpse of a dark haired young man within the glow stilled my heart. I blinked. The forest quieted and the evil faces drifted away. The trees straightened and they were no longer monsters clawing at me. Everything else faded as I stared at the stranger.

  At first I was captured by his eyes, black as charcoal and shimmering with sadness. But as my heart began beating rhythmically again, his features became clearer.

  His face was beautiful—what I’d imagine an angel to look like, if it was a dark, mysterious one. His hair was longish and jet black. The eyes that at first had gazed at me with a deep sense of loss and hurt changed to curiosity. He arched his brow when I continued to boldly stare back at him.

  He had plump lips and high cheekbones. His nose was slightly curved making me think that he resembled a Native American, but the rest of his features were all-American for sure.

  The shaking of my body subsided to be replaced by the strange ripples of something unfamiliar in the pit of my stomach. As the stranger gazed at me, the sensations spread out, following the nerve endings straight to my fingertips.

  The feelings terrified me almost as much as the scary things in the dark shadows had.

  But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

  Somehow I knew that the beautiful stranger wouldn’t hurt me, and I welcomed him into my dream.