Now, most importantly, your parents… I knew them. In fact, they were dear friends of mine. On the night you were born, I assisted your mother to the hospital. She needed help in such a vulnerable state, and your father had already passed. Her demise that night was unforeseen and heartbreaking. However, your mother was always prepared. She must have sensed something was wrong because she came to the hospital with a portable safety box full of documents and possessions that she wanted you to have, which she gave to me along with a letter when we arrived on the ward. She told me to read it if something happened to her, and this gesture seemed strange at the time, but with hindsight, I understand her intentions.
Those items are what I have included in this envelope. She did not want you to have them until you were eighteen, but she stipulated you were to have a monthly allowance in order to care for your needs. That is why you were always slightly more spoiled than the other children in the orphanage.
Jordan, I must go, but I cannot express how sorry I am for not telling you any of this sooner. I was respecting your mother’s wishes and trying to keep your well-being in mind. I hope you can forgive me. Always know, I will be praying for you. And always remember, the truth resides inside.
Sister Helen
I remained frozen in place. Not only did this letter validate everything Gabriel had said, it also held knowledge about my parents.
Gabriel sensed my shock. “May I?” he asked, indicating the letter.
I passed it to him.
He read through it while I sat there in silent distress, unsure of what this all meant. Eventually, Gabriel set the paper on the counter, with a glance at me to determine my emotions.
“I’m not sure I can proceed,” I confessed, staring into space rather than at the items strewn in front of me.
“I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”
I nodded.
“Yet,” he continued, “I think Sister Helen and, most importantly, your parents would want you to continue on.”
Once more, I nodded. Swallowing the lump in my throat, with a heavy sigh, I reached for the pile of papers. A debit card slid out from the stack. I grasped it and saw my name engraved across the plastic. Sister Helen must have set the account up for me. As I shuffled through the rest of the documents, I soon realized they were bank statements. It became apparent my parents had left me quite a fortune.
I sat numb, sifting through the documents in disbelief. A statement for a college trust fund my parents had set up. A deed to a house they must have lived in, which I now owned. My social security card and birth certificate. My parents’ death certificates.
The more I went through the pile, the more overwhelming it became. I stood up and walked away from the counter, running my hands through my hair. I felt on the verge of a panic attack as the shock finally set in.
Gabriel came to my side and led me to the couch, where, obligingly, I sat down. He disappeared briefly and returned with a glass of water.
“Drink,” he insisted, trying to calm me.
I grabbed the glass and swallowed some water. “I haven’t even finished looking through all of it and I’m already a mess.”
“Your reaction is to be expected, especially after discovering everything your parents left behind.”
We sat in silence and let the minutes tick by until I eventually found the courage to return to the counter. I realized I had gone through most of the pile and all that was left were two clear plastic bags. One was filled entirely with photos. Sighing, I set it aside. The last thing I needed right now was to see my family and what my life could have been. The other bag held only two items: a man’s ring, and a necklace. I pulled the ring out first, admired its simplicity. It was a black band with green jasper in the middle and gold interspersed throughout the stone. I placed it on my right ring finger, and, surprisingly, it fit. Feeling a sense of comfort, I left it on and went back to the necklace, lifting the chain to eye-level to examine the plain silver cross.
“You should always wear that.” Gabriel broke my reverie. “It will bring you protection.”
I realized he was leaning against the counter. “Really?”
“Yes. The fallen cannot touch anything holy or sanctified.”
“Hence the holy water.”
“Correct. Some angels wear a cross or another religious symbol, depending on their faith, for the same reason. It’s a way to arm ourselves against the fallen.”
I noticed the glint of gold shining around his neck. Presumably, the cross he mentioned. But my attention was drawn to Gabriel’s wrist, where he absentmindedly rubbed his fingers over a mark that peeked out from his shirtsleeve.
“You have tattoos?” I asked.
He quickly moved his hand away. “Some. Not many. Not tattoos in the traditional sense. These are more like divine markings.”
I smiled. No matter what he wished to call them, they were still tattoos. I slipped the silver necklace over my head since the chain was large enough, and the movement revealed my other necklace.
“The fleur-de-lis,” Gabriel remarked.
I grabbed at the chain and unclasped it resentfully, setting the jewelry on the counter. “That’s what caused this mess.”
Gabriel looked skeptical. “Jordan, you cannot blame yourself. Sister Helen said in the letter that she knew their location was compromised.”
“Yes, but I led the fallen right to her.”
“You didn’t know. How could you if Sister Helen never told you anything? Besides, it seems everyone made it out safe.”
“I know. I just feel guilty… There’s so much running through my mind.”
“Like what? Perhaps it will be better if you vocalize your concerns.”
“Like the fact Sister Helen knew my parents. Does that mean they were members of the Sacrarium?”
Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible.”
“Do you have to be born into the Sacrarium?”
“I don’t believe it’s a requirement, but I’m sure it helps.”
“I see. Well, I’m not entirely sure I want to go around flaunting this anymore, so I’ll just put it in the bag,” I said, taking the necklace from the counter and placing it in the now-empty plastic bag.
“What else are you concerned about?”
I fixed my gaze on Gabriel. “It’s not concern exactly, but she was sending me to Africa, to one of your brothers. We just discovered one of them is there, and to think they’re expecting me is hard to wrap my mind around.”
Gabriel nodded. “You’re right. Which means we don’t know what each of them is involved in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever is in Africa was obviously in contact with the Sacrarium, but why? Who’s to say none of the others know things we do not?”
“I guess I see your point, but we shouldn’t dwell on that too much. We’ll be finding them soon enough, and I’m sure once you’re all face-to-face, everything will be revealed.”
Gabriel sighed. “You’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway, you shouldn’t worry about it either. When we get to Africa, I’m sure we’ll have more answers.”
I nodded and started gathering everything together, returning all the items back to the manila envelope.
“What about the pictures?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not ready for them.”
“It’s your choice. One day, you will know when you need them.”
I nodded in agreement. “You know, there was no key.”
Gabriel looked confused.
“For the backpack,” I explained.
Recognition graced his face. “I had completely forgotten about that in all this.”
“Me too. I wonder what object Sister Helen was referring to in the letter. Whatever it is, Satan seems to want it badly.”
“Indeed. There are many objects Satan wants, so I’m unsure what it could be. What’s more peculiar is why the Sacrarium would have it unless someone gave it to them. Sister Helen
did say the backpack was entrusted to her…but that just leads to more questions. As for the key, it will reveal itself in time.”
I nodded in distraction.
“What did Sister Helen mean by, ‘the truth resides inside?’”
Smiling at the memory, I explained, “She always had this saying that she would repeat to all the kids at Holy Trinity whenever we had doubts about ourselves or were upset about being orphans. We were teased and bullied sometimes because of it, so Sister Helen would remind us the truth resides inside, deceit lies without, and the journey to both is obscure.”
Gabriel pondered the words. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
“Exactly. That was her point. It always made us think about the saying rather than dwell on our doubts or insecurities.”
“I see,” Gabriel said, though I suspected he didn’t truly understand.
14
Jordan
London, Present Day
The wheels of the plane hit the tarmac as we descended from the air. I grinned at the sight of Heathrow airport, excited to finally see more of the world. Add my angelic situation into the mix, and what more could an ordinary teen want?
Gabriel insisted on flying first class and took the aisle seat. By all accounts, he was the ideal travel companion, but he hadn’t slept a wink in the entire seven-hour flight.
He noticed me scrutinizing him and turned his head. “Yes?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering why you didn’t sleep.”
“How do you know I didn’t sleep? I could’ve been sleeping when you were.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. “True, but I just get the feeling you didn’t.”
“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said nonchalantly. “I don’t need to sleep…or eat, for that matter.”
“What? Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because it never came up. Though you must have been suspicious to accuse me of being a vampire.”
I laughed at the memory, then realized it only happened two days ago. Time sure went fast when you were in the company of an archangel.
Everyone around us stood up to retrieve their carry-on bags, and I realized we’d made it to the terminal gate. Gabriel stepped into the aisle and opened the compartment above his head, retrieving the backpack, his garment bag, and both of our raincoats. I stepped into the aisle too and took the backpack and my jacket.
“Thanks.”
We departed the plane and began our trek through the terminal, following the signs for Customs and Baggage Claim. Making it through the first without a hitch, we stood in front of the baggage carousel eagerly awaiting our luggage.
“Did you bring a camera with you?” Gabriel asked randomly.
I glanced at him to determine what had spurred that question and realized he was plain curious. “No. I figured pictures would be forbidden, given you’re some celestial super entity no one should know about.”
He laughed. “You have a wild imagination. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. A lot of people tell me that.”
A moment of quiet passed between us.
“You know, I was really nervous going through security in New York,” I blurted out.
“Why’s that?”
I pointed to the backpack on my shoulders. “Because of this. We don’t know what’s inside. For all we know, it could be a weapon.”
Gabriel smirked. “I highly doubt Sister Helen gave you a weapon to protect.”
Nodding, I said, “You have a point there, but you know what I mean. I was afraid it would set some alarm off and raise suspicions.”
“That’s highly unlikely. Whatever is inside is a holy, sanctified object, and such things do not show up on human radar.”
“Really? So, an X-ray wouldn’t show anything?”
“No.”
The bell of the carousel interrupted our conversation, announcing the arrival of our bags. We watched as bag after bag passed before us.
“Gabriel, I know we’re going to Oxford, but where exactly are we going, and who are we intending to meet? The ring gave us locations, not specific addresses or the names of who would be there.”
“I wondered when you were going to ask that,” Gabriel replied, briefly leaving my side to retrieve his bag. When he returned, I waited expectantly for an answer. “We’ll talk about it in the car,” was all I got.
With a sigh of frustration, I walked away to pull my duffel from the pile of bags it was stuck underneath.
“Where to now?” I asked when I returned to his side.
Gabriel remained standing. “We need to wait for the chest.”
“Oh, right.” I’d forgotten about the enormous chest Gabriel insisted we bring, the same chest he’d pulled the golden horn from. I could only imagine what other paraphernalia lived inside.
As suitcases streamed out of the carousel, I could tell Gabriel was growing impatient. Scanning the baggage area, it dawned on me that his chest might not come out with the other bags. Several peculiar-looking items awaited collection in a small office across from us.
“Gabriel, I think your chest might be over there.”
He picked up his things and strode over. I followed close at his heels.
“Wait here,” he said, leaving me outside with the luggage.
He spoke to the woman at the counter and after showing her his identification, Gabriel pointed to his chest, which could be seen from the counter with piles of luggage around it. A stressful conversation ensued. It seemed like Gabriel wanted to retrieve the item himself, but the woman refused to let him. Instead, she approached the chest and tried to move it, but it wouldn’t budge. Gabriel rolled his eyes. She asked her male coworker for assistance, who tried to help her to no avail. Really losing his patience, Gabriel stepped behind the counter, grasped the chest with both hands, and left the office.
The man and woman stared after him, stunned.
Chuckling to myself, I asked, “Should we get a cart?”
“No,” Gabriel replied. “If you don’t mind pulling my hand luggage, I can take the garment bag and chest.”
“Sure.”
With our luggage situated, I followed Gabriel through the airport and out into the parking garage, where I stopped suddenly.
“You have a car here?”
“Yes,” he replied, not breaking step. “I have a car in New York too. I don’t drive much there though.” He finally stopped in front of a silver Lexus RX. Unlocking the car, he began to load his chest and bag into the trunk.
I stared in disbelief. “You can drive?”
He looked at me in curiosity. “Yes.”
“A stick shift?”
“Yes,” he said, exasperated. Striding over, he took his other bag and my duffel and loaded them into the trunk as well.
He continued to amaze me, and it was in moments such as this I didn’t attempt to ask for an explanation.
“Are you getting in?” he asked from the driver’s seat.
I nodded, unable to decide what to say. I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat, located on the left side of the vehicle, and placed the backpack on the back seat behind Gabriel. He went about inputting our destination into the GPS.
“Do you have a phone too?” I wondered.
He raised an eyebrow. “No. I hate technology. But I’m not foolish. I realize I must adapt to changing times, so I know how to operate such things even if I don’t possess them.”
“I see. Well, I had a phone, but I left it behind in my room at the orphanage. I guess either Sister Helen took it with her, or it burnt to a crisp in the fire.”
The GPS beeped, and a robotic female voice with a British accent said, “Proceed to the route.”
Putting the car in reverse, Gabriel eased out of the parking spot and exited the garage. Once we were on the highway—he told me they were called “motorways” in England—I couldn’t wait any longer for him to answer my question.
“So, where exactly are we going? And who wi
ll be there?”
“When you think of Oxford, what comes to mind?”
I sat and thought for a moment. “The university, I guess.”
“Exactly. And what happens at a university?”
I looked at him strangely. “Learning?”
“Precisely. Which means we’re searching for an angel of teaching.”
“An angel of teaching? What does that mean?”
“Every angel in the Third Choir is gifted with a certain talent and categorized into circles of vocation. I am an angel of music.”
“That explains the violin.”
“Right. Out of all of us who were sent here, Zadkiel is the only angel of teaching.”
“Zadkiel? That’s a unique name. Now, go back a minute. What do you mean by the Third Choir?”
“There are three choirs of angels in Heaven that are made up of three groups of angels. In a sense, it’s a hierarchical designation.”
“Hierarchical?”
“Yes, a hierarchy. Think of each group as being on a separate tier, with the most important angels on the top tier, and each lower tier being slightly less important.”
“Okay, but the Third Choir is the lowest?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here and not the angels who are higher up?”
“Because we are messengers. Most importantly, because our ranking does not convey the seriousness of our duty.”
“Interesting… So, essentially, you do the dirty work?”
His head teetered back and forth. “In a way.”
Settling deeper into my seat, I tried to keep myself busy by taking in the scenery. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes as we drove through a quaint town, which I guessed was Oxford. The cobblestone sidewalks and old buildings certainly seemed like the right fit.
I rubbed my eyes. “Are we here?”
“Yes, just trying to find some decent parking.”
When he found a spot, Gabriel parked the car and pressed the ignition button to cut the engine. I got out and shut the door.
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