by Sky Sommers
Time to go!
Her sash is barely out the door when I hear a click and the key being turned.
Somebody locked me in.
How am I supposed to skulk out now?
I climb onto the window sill and yell ‘I need help,’ at the skies. I know I’m not meant to use guardian angels or fairy godmothers for transport, but how else am I going to get back home now that Mellie stole the shoes?
Chapter 33. The Choice
Grace
There is a familiar whoosh of wings and a god of a man descends, bringing a certain Goth pixie with him.
Moments later, we are all back on the rooftop of my home.
‘You called?’ Loretta says, swiping one of her purple streaks out of her eyes.
‘Why are you both here?’ I ask. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed transport back. Mellie swiped the shoes.’
Gabriel frowns, ‘Have you said your goodbyes yet?’
‘To Ella? Yes.’
‘What about Peter and Henry?’
‘Why would I need to say goodbye to them? I’m not going anywhere,’ I say.
‘We had a deal,’ he says. ‘I thought you called us so you could honour it.’
‘What deal?’ I ask. ‘I honoured my part. You brought us three here and we took in foster kids. Married one off today, actually, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m also rewriting Hans and Greta’s…’
‘Not that part of the deal. The second part of the deal, honey,’ Loretta says.
‘Which was?’
‘Becoming a guardian angel once Henry turns three,’ Gabriel says.
‘Say what?’ I ask as Gabriel folds his wings. ‘I don’t remember making any such deal. Are you sure I actually said yes? Not just nodded at everything you said?’ I ask, hoping he wouldn’t produce a papyrus where my signature would burn up the paper in golden flaming ink like the Sea Witch did with Ariel.
‘Grace, you have had three years with your son as we agreed. He’s three tomorrow. It’s time,’ he says as Peter comes up the stairs behind him.
‘Is this man bothering you, darling?’ Peter asks and frowns at Gabriel, ‘Hey, I remember you…from somewhere…’
Man? Can’t he see the wings?
I take Peter’s hand and Gabriel takes turns looking at us. ‘Grace, he can’t see my wings, he never could, because he’s human,’ the angel says.
‘And I’m not?’ I chuckle.
‘No,’ Gabriel shakes his head.
Peter looks at me, ‘I don’t understand. If she’s not human, whom did I marry?’
‘Years ago, you married a human. Now she’s not,’ Gabriel says.
‘Wait a minute, wait a minute. What are you saying?’ I ask.
‘Grace, you know full well that when we rescued you and Peter and the then unborn Henry from the Thames, this was a condition of your resurrection,’ Gabriel says.
‘Our resurrection?’ I ask.
‘No. Yours. His heart was beating just fine when you were fished out of the river,’ Gabriel says. I glance at Peter and see him staring straight ahead, looking pained.
‘And mine wasn’t? Then how did Henry survive?’ I ask.
‘Barely. Are you saying you really don’t remember anything?’
I shake my head. ‘I remember waking up at the hospital. I remember them telling me Peter survived. I remember seeing Henry for the very first time and being told they had to do a C-section to deliver him…’ I say.
‘From your lifeless body. They basically cut him out. Have you never wondered about the scar?’ Loretta says, squeezing my hand. My other hand involuntarily goes to my belly.
The scar.
It is huge.
Across half my stomach.
I had always wondered whether the doctors were sloppy on purpose or did I just happen to get an intern who didn’t know what they were doing.
‘You didn’t see Henry at the hospital. You were dead at the hospital,’ Loretta says.
‘I died?’
Nods all around.
‘You knew?’ I ask Peter and see his mouth twitch.
‘If I was dead and Peter survived, how come I remember both of us sitting in your office at the Agency?’ I ask.
‘That’s where I remember you from,’ Peter says to Gabriel.
The scene flashes before me. ‘I remember sitting at your mahogany table and pleading for us to go back, to be able to take care of Henry, so he wouldn’t grow up an orphan…’ I say.
‘You were pleading for you to go back. Peter was only there because you clutched at him when I came for you at the hospital,’ the angel explains. ‘He was always alive.’
‘And I was always dead?’ I ask.
‘You still are,’ Gabriel says simply as if that explains everything.
‘But I’m not decomposing,’ I argue.
‘That’s not your body,’ Gabriel says.
‘What?’ Peter, Loretta and I say in unison.
‘Honey, your body is in Valhalla, in cryostasis,’ Gabriel says.
‘What?’ I repeat.
‘What do you mean by ‘honey’?’ Peter asks Gabriel.
‘Whose…whose…body is this then?’ I gesture at myself.
‘Mine!’ my mouth says without my meaning to.
I have the strangest sensation.
Lifting my hand I see its edges blurring.
A white mist slowly lifts from my palm and then I have two hands. One is real and the other one translucent.
The hands are not identical.
My nails were never talons nor do I own golden Celtic rings.
I see my body separating from me with a sigh.
And then there are two of me.
I remain translucent while my body is standing right in front of me, divinely illuminated. My peasant clothes change to a low-cut burgundy gown with a green cape draped over my former shoulders. The body fills out rather nicely, sporting curves in all the right places and the bust is to die for.
I’ve caught glimpses of this woman in the mirror and thought I was going mad. Or hallucinating from being dead tired.
Turns out I was neither.
Who the hell have I been wearing?
‘Mine!’ Echoes the woman in front of me.
‘Hello, Morgana,’ Gabriel says.
‘Morgana? As in…’ I gape.
At least I have a voice.
‘Queen of the Fairies to you, archangel,’ says the woman, no, the fairy whose body I have been inhabiting.
‘Self-proclaimed Queen and you’re no fairy,’ Loretta says. ‘Why did I not know about this?’ she slaps Gabriel’s arm.
‘You two have a curious relationship and you didn’t need to know,’ the angel says.
‘No, I was just here to godmother and guide Grace who was really inhabiting Morgana’s body. Oh, what fun it must have been,’ Loretta spits at the Fairy Queen.
‘Not a fairy?’ I ask as Peter asks ‘Self-proclaimed?’
‘Loretta, focus,’ Gabriel admonishes. ‘This is not about you. You and Morgana can fight it out later.’
I feel myself shimmer and dim like that hologram of Princess Leia. Peter just stares at me helplessly.
‘What’s happening to me?’ I ask.
Gabriel answers, ‘This is just your spirit.’
‘My spirit?’ I look at Morgana. ‘My spirit was in her body for…?’
‘Three years!’ Morgana says. ‘Both of our spirits, actually. I wish you had taken better care of my body, but no matter. At least you fed it decently enough.’
‘Three years…’ I say, failing to comprehend it.
‘And boy, am I glad that those years of servitude are over!’ Morgana tells Gabriel and shakes her mane of black tresses that were mine mere minutes ago when I wore her skin. Nex
t thing I see, her hair has turned dark auburn. ‘Ah, much better,’ Morgana says.
‘But you were shaped like me. How come you can do that?’ I ask.
Morgana looks me up and down, ‘I’m a shape-shifter, darling. That’s why - not a fairy. I can be a fairy, a harpy or you. I can be whoever I want to seem.’
‘So it’s glamour? Like Mellie?’
Are they related?
Morgana shakes her head, ‘Pay attention, girly. I don’t merely fool others by appearing to be someone I’m not. I BECOME that someone.’
‘Well, that explains some lapses in judgment and character.’ Loretta says. ‘Almost slapping Henry, telling me you wanted to slap Ella silly, all that.’
‘So it was you I glimpsed in my hallway and bedroom mirrors,’ I tell Morgana.
She laughs. ‘Yes, well, your life was dull. I took my fun where I could find it.’
‘Driving me mad was fun?’ I ask.
I should feel more mad, sad, shocked, something. Why am I so calm?
‘Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. You had years, YEARS! added to your life. Courtesy of me,’ she bows. ‘Why was I ever this kind, you might ask? Unfortunately, I owed Gabriel here,’ she motions towards the angel, ‘and he called in his favour three years ago when you died in that accident.’
Must have been a pretty big favour.
Morgana looked me up and down, ‘I even helped you. With Ella. If you weren’t so difficult and moral, she would have been more of a hellion and we could have had a bit of fun with the prince chasing her instead of this boring traditional story you and Belle concocted…’ she yawns.
I remember the chocolate cake - MY chocolate cake - that Ella and the prince had in his bedroom.
It was never the wine.
‘You. The cake the page brought to Nick’s bedroom. My chocolate cake. When you were me, you put something into that cake to make them act all…amorous,’ I shake my head.
‘That worked out well, didn’t it? She’s married with a baby on the way and the Beast has a fun bloodline with juiced up powers…’
‘That’s what you wanted all along, didn’t you?’ Loretta asks. ‘You and your little experiments…’
Morgana laughs, throwing her head back.
My hand shimmers again and I dare ask, ‘If this is my spirit, then where is my body?’
‘Your body is in Valhalla in the Hall of the Dead in a cryostasis pod.’ Gabriel says. ‘Time passes much slower in Valhalla. One hour there is twenty-four Earth hours. One Earth year is about fifteen hours in Valhalla.’
‘Well, may I have my own body back, please?’ I ask. ‘Or do we have to go to Valhalla to get it?’
‘It’s not that simple, honey-‘ Loretta says and raises her hand to pat my arm and then freezes.
There is nothing to pat.
need to get my body back.
‘You can only have it back if you keep your end of the deal,’ Gabriel says.
‘You are holding my body hostage? Why?’
Gabriel stares at me, ‘Not hostage. You really don’t remember?’
I shake my head.
Gabriel sighs. ‘This one time, I couldn’t save you. You were dead before you even hit the water. Aneurysm. It burst in your head while you were driving to the hospital to have Henry. The car just dived into the river and neither I nor Peter could have done anything.’ Gabriel shrugs. ‘Peter sent up a prayer for help just as your car hit the water. You materialised in my office, clutching Peter’s hand. The Agency somehow recognised you. Thirteen years ago, on your first visit, you must have imprinted somehow….because the Agency itself restored your body to the way you looked when you were twenty-five. You know the rules, we don’t restore humans. Only our own kind. Since the Agency already restored your body, all I could do was make you the formal offer. For you to become a guardian. And you accepted.’
I suddenly remember yelling at Gabriel, ‘Where’s my baby?’ Then an image of him pointing at my flat belly surfaces. You said you saved two out of three!’
‘Yes, Peter and Henry. You - I couldn’t save.’ Gabriel says. ‘You didn’t want your child growing up in foster care. You wanted to raise him yourself. We placed you in the Magic Kingdom. It exists outside of Time. But that didn’t help.’
‘What do you mean?’
Peter reaches for my hand, ‘You died twice in one month in your own body. In my arms. The aneurysm was a ticking time-bomb and even more unpredictable in this dimension. You were afraid you might drop Henry. Or worse.’
‘’So I asked Morgana for a favour.’ Gabriel says.
‘I did like some things you did to my body.’ Morgana winks at me as Peter pales.
Oh gods.
That explains why Peter rarely wanted to…
‘I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t remember you were not really you,’ Peter rakes his fingers through his hair. ‘Why do I remember you died, but not that you were borrowing her body?’
‘We erased that part,’ Loretta offers helpfully.
I stare at Peter. He willingly erased a memory, but still didn’t want to touch me for three years? Well, mostly didn’t want to touch me.
Oh gods.
‘Why don’t I remember any of it? Did you erase my memories as well?’ I ask as Loretta and Gabriel shake their heads.
‘I always thought you remembered. That’s why I kept reminding you that your three years were almost up,’ Loretta says and I remember our conversation about luck and magic and her cryptic suggestion that I start believing in magic because it would help.
Henry is three tomorrow. Morgana only agreed to stay until Henry turned three. I’ve been plagued by thinking Henry is three soon. Too soon. Almost, but not quite three. ‘Why three years?’ I ask.
Gabriel shrugs, ‘I don’t know. You said three and I agreed.’
‘I set the time?’ I ask and the angel nods.
‘Maybe you considered how long would a child need a mother and you figured - three years?’ The pixie offers.
‘Maybe I just picked three out of thin air?’
‘It is the most basic magic number.’ Loretta shrugs.
Magic again.
‘Did you tell me about Ella before you stuck me in here?’ I ask. ‘She was fifteen when we arrived…maybe that’s why. But this still doesn’t explain why I don’t remember making a deal to become a guardian angel.’ Or borrowing Morgana’s body, for that matter.
‘I might have…dimmed certain recollections that were not essential to your task.’ Morgana says.
‘You?’ I gape as Loretta mumbles, ‘It figures.’
Morgana says, ‘And with that final kindness I take my leave…I hope Edwin, my son hasn’t mucked everything up, ruling over the flower colonies in my stead. The business still better be there when I get back or else there will be hell to pay,’ she shoots Gabriel The Look.
As she turns to go, I almost feel a pang of regret.
Almost, but not quite.
It’s not like I can go back inside that body.
It’s not mine.
Never was.
Three years.
An undesirable task of being the necessary fixture in three kids’ lives so one of them could marry a prince.
Suddenly, light dawns. ‘This was my first posting as a guardian, wasn’t it?’ I ask and Gabriel nods.
‘About that. I’m still not done. I would like to remain here,’ I offer.
‘You’ve gone beyond your call of duty and have been righting wrongs for the entire three years of your posting and not just for Ella, Hans and Greta.’ he says. ‘You deserve a break, your body back and a new, more interesting and perhaps a less protracted mission.’
‘What I deserve is more time with my son.’ I say. Why didn’t you offer me a new life in a dimension where I could be in my own b
ody. Why don’t you offer me that life now?’
‘We had an understanding. An accord,’ Gabe says.
‘No. You had an understanding and an accord. I made a deal. There’s a difference.’ I argue.
‘Will you honour our deal?’ Gabe asks.
‘I will honour it…’
As soon as I say this, I feel something itching between my shoulder blades and an added weight descends, pulling my chin up. I roll my shoulders and notice my hands. They’re real!
I got my body back!
Fired up, I demand, ‘I’ll honour it…BUT…you gave me three years, I want five, no, I want ten more!’
‘The world won’t stop when you leave,’ Gabe whispers. ‘Trust me. I would know.’
Ella’s world did stop when Mellie left. Who’s to say the same thing won’t happen to Henry? Not to mention Hans and Greta getting act two of a mother figure disappearing.
‘I think for some of them, it might. That’s why I want another ten years. Fifteen would be better.’
To see Henry grow up.
Gabriel shakes his head at me, ‘And if your body gives out again?’ he asks.
‘At least it will be my body, thank you very much. I’ll take my chances. Whenever I have one of them aneurysms you can take me back to the Agency’s sick-bay and repair me and send me back again. Consider this a very very very protracted save.’
Always so feisty. That’s what I’ve always liked about you. Gabe says without moving his lips.
I can hear him just like I heard Ella when I helped her get ready for her wedding. Gabe just projected his thoughts into my mind. Did Ella do that, too?
Is Ella the daughter of an angel? I ask in my head and get a poker face from Gabe.
What? I can’t ask a simple question?
‘Curiosity is always the last to go,’ Gabe says out loud.
‘The last of what?’ I ask.
Human emotions. Look at Peter! Gabe orders.
I do and instead of tearing up or feeling pangs of regret over leaving, I feel…nothing.
In your angelic state you no longer mirror their emotions.
Wasn’t love for Peter my emotion as well, not just a playback of his?
Gabriel shrugs.
That would explain why I spent almost three years being mostly angry. I must have been mirroring Ella’s permanent state. And why I was sad around Peter, although I wanted to be happy and welcoming and loving. I was happiest around Henry because he is the happiest boy I know. I was always an empathic mirror, a sponge. When Morgana wasn’t interfering.