The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven

by Harmony L. Courtney

  Would he be part of the team that accompanied the group to Israel? Would he already be there? Or would the Godhead give him another assignment altogether?

  In the fourth row of seven hundred in the seraphs, the seventy-second from the right, Hevel began to dream as the Godhead continued intoning to them their instructions.

  Each of you has a specific task, and We will put it in and on your hearts to accomplish, the Godhead proclaimed. The words thrumming inside Hevel’s heart, and, he was certain, inside of the other seraphs and cherubs, as well.

  But so that you know that you have heard correctly, each of you will find in your uppermost right wing a feather inscribing your assignment, the Godhead began again.

  Hevel itched to look, but waited at attention until the Most High was finished.

  Within three Earth hours, we must be ready, so prepare yourselves. There is a battle, and there is good to be done, and each of you has a part in making sure that your assignments are carried out to the fullest extent. and while on Earth, remember, They intonated again, prayer is the way to reach Us. Always prayer.

  Hevel felt a shiver go down his back, between his upper wings at the thought: it had been a long time since the Mighty Three-in-One had sent him into the earth; a long time since he’d been so far from the tangible and visible presence of the Godhead.

  He remembered the times when he began to empathize with humanity because there seemed to be no evidence that God was listening, but had to trust that He was; that They were.

  He had learned a lot about trust and faith then; for before his time in the earth helping Timothy, he’d had no reason to need them so much. As he was sure the rest of the angels could attest, praising God face to face was one thing, but praising Them from what felt like a lonely place was quite another.

  You are dismissed, the Godhead intoned, and the hum and whir of wings began again as Hevel and the armies around him moved through the realms of the heavens and found the answers they needed; made quick rounds to finish or reassign tasks; informed others they would be absent for a while on assignment.

  Excitement buzzed in the air louder than the hum of wings, and the only other thing in Hevel’s heart that was heard was the continuous praise of all the angels, and those who the Son had risen to life in the heavens.

  And then, he felt a barely-familiar falling as the time came to tumble to the earth for assignment.

  He wasn’t going to Israel, as he’d hoped.

  He wasn’t going to the city where the remaining mirror was still intact.

  He was going to California.

  ‘Amaryahu looked at his wing to find that the Godhead had, indeed, imprinted upon a feather the assignment They wanted him to pursue in the earth.

  His sixth assignment, ‘Amaryahu was ready; he was never surprised by a new feather, or by a tattoo being imprinted upon one he already had. And whatever the case was – after all, the Godhead’s hands were covered in tattoos stating the names of the Saved – there was always a risk but also a great reward.

  The reward of seeing more humans become closer to the Mighty One was worth it, every time.

  He had sung to the shepherds the good news of the birth of the Savior, had seen the Great Wall of China fall, watched as Hitler rose in power, and sown rice in Japan to help farmers out who needed extra hands.

  And he had been there to help Timothy draw water for his final mirror when the bucket he’d been using broke.

  ‘Amaryahu – who had gone by Amos son of Raphael – had offered his own bucket, and he and Timothy son of Zorba the Athenian and Eunice the Hebrew had struck up a conversation about Jesus of Nazareth; Jesus the Messiah of God, Who the Father and Spirit had sent into the earth to save it. He listened to Timothy as he spoke of his mentor, Paul and of the travels the pair of them had done; of his conversion and of his trials on behalf of the Christ.

  Even now, the thought was scandalous to humanity, but in Heaven, it had made complete sense.

  ‘Amaryahu still couldn’t wrap his thinking around how the Godhead had remained one while also separating, but it had happened: the Son had been wrapped in flesh and placed in a human womb, and He had lived in the earth, interacting with humanity and then sacrificing Himself back into the Godhead.

  He had been fully human, but fully God. Somehow. Like a river, ever moving, always changing but seemingly remaining the same, the Son had been both the same and different; He had been human and God, fully and truly.

  And it was a mystery even to the angels how the Godhead had done it, but it was true; ‘Amaryahu had been there; he’d helped sing the Son’s human birth out in jubilation with a myriad other angels, many of whom he had stepped into line with before the Godhead moments before, and they would be remembering it, too, he was sure.

  And so, closing his eyes, ‘Amaryahu prepared himself by listening to the gentling calm of the hum of wings and the praises of those in Heaven. He moved to the ocean realm, where he was usually assigned, and allowed the others who remained to know of his impending absence, and then, he was falling.

  The sense of wings shredding and skin being re-designed as he fell – always an awkward feeling – overtook him as he careened into the atmosphere of time and space and into the earth’s circumference. He folded his arms in over his chest just in time for his landing.

  Finding himself near the edge of a pond, he glanced around himself quickly. The heat was nearly unbearable, and he shivered a moment at the punch it gave his system as he sat up, then slowly moved to stand.

  “Hey, mister, are you alright,” he heard someone ask him close by.

  Careful not to whirl around like he’d done in China – making himself dizzy for the first three days he’d been there – he turned to see who was behind him.

  A small red-haired boy, on the chubby side, and barely freckled, stood, arms akimbo, watching him with big, curious eyes. One hand was behind his back, holding something that made an odd crinkling sound in his ears, not quite in tandem with the ducks that were spread out through the area in singles, pairs, and triples.

  Angus Ferguson, he thought, smiling. St. Louis, Missouri. And it’s summer. And I’m… he tried to recall the name that had been etched into his wing.

  I’m Kaleo ‘Aukai, he reminded himself, finding the humor in God’s name assignment. Hawaiian-Chinese. A childcare specialist visiting from Walla Walla, Washington, on vacation for a month.

  “Thank you. I believe I am fine, young man,” he said, listening to the way his vocal cords vibrated into sound. It was deep, and crisp, and friendly. “And are you alright,” he asked in return, not seeing his parents close by, though noting that the Murphrees were within view.

  The boy nodded, his hair glinting in the light. “We’re getting ready for a picnic, a bunch of us,” he announced. “And it’s about time, because I don’t like being sick, and I was.”

  ‘Amaryahu – now Kaleo – nodded, frowning.

  He sensed in his heart the assignment the Godhead had for him now, and tried to smile. “It’s never any fun being sick, is it?”

  Angus shook his head.

  “I think I’m all better now; just tired. and I…” He paused a moment, drew out the hand that had been behind his back. “I’m going to feed the duckies some seeds if you want to help me. There’s lots of ‘em, and more than one thrower is nice, I think.”

  He smiled shyly up to Kaleo; there wasn’t a lot of distance in their height, and he figured that made him rather short this go-round on Earth.

  Hearing approaching footsteps, he glanced around to see Calico and Romeo Ferguson approaching, holding hands, worried looks on their faces.

  “What did we tell you about wandering off, young man,” Romeo asked when they got about a dozen feet away. “And what did we say about not talking to strangers?”

  Kaleo sighed.

  Both good things, but how could he explain to them he was a stranger they needed in their lives?

  Best to go along with the flow of things.


  “My apologies,” he said, still stunned with how deep his voice was now. “Your son saw me fall and wanted to know if I was alright. That is all. I believe he wanted me to feed the ducks with him as a way to make me feel better, if I was hurt,” he continued, smiling.

  “I’m Kaleo ‘Aukai,” he said, pulling out the wallet he felt in his right front khakis pocket. “Owner and head of the ‘Aukai Children’s Learning Center in Walla Walla, Washington, which I run with my wife and our three daughters.”

  He opened the wallet and took out a card, then showed them a photograph of his family; the first time the Godhead had given him one.

  Were the others angels, as well, on assignment? Or had the Godhead created a family for him, for this purpose?

  He smiled down at the photograph, taking in within moments that he was, indeed, short, but that his wife was shorter still. While he had short, dark, unruly curls greying at the edges, a solid frame of more muscle than fat, and large, smiling eyes, his wife had pale blonde hair, pale grey eyes, and a gently rounded figure. Their daughters were all taller than either of them, but none of them would likely be supermodels: he figured the tallest of them might be five nine, but that was stretching it, even for his own imagination.

  He pulled the photograph out for Romeo and Calico to get a better look, and Angus moved in closer, too. On the back, it read Kaleo and Christine ‘Aukai; daughters Haukea, Kalani, and Leilani, ages 19, 22, and 23.

  “Lovely family,” Romeo finally said, turning over the business card Kaleo had given him in his hands. “We’re the Fergusons. Sorry if we seem on edge, just…” He paused, then turned to his wife.

  “This is Calico, and I’m Romeo,” he began, “and this young man is-”

  “Angus, Angus, Angus,” the boy nearly shouted, “and I want to feed the duckies now, please,” he said again, turning first to Kaleo, and then to his parents. “Can he come to our picnic?”

  Kaleo panicked a moment. “Well, I don’t know if-”

  “Nonsense,” Calico interrupted him. “We’ve got plenty, and what’s the hurt in getting to know someone for a little while. Who knows? We might actually enjoy talking to each other.” She laughed.

  “Well,” Romeo said, looking from a hopeful and now bubbly, jumping Angus to Calico, and then to Kaleo, “why not?”

  “Only if you are sure,” Kaleo said, smiling broadly. “I do not wish to intrude.”

  Angus, to his surprise, grabbed his hand and started tugging. “Come on! Let’s feed the duckies, and then, we can have tacos and chips with salsa, and real Mexican sodas!”

  Kaleo looked at the boy’s parents, who nodded, and the four of them moved closer to the water. After several moments of tossing seed out to the birds, to Angus’ delight, they made their way back toward where he’d seen the Murphrees. As they got closer, he also saw the McAndrews family, and smiled.

  Now, to just get through lunch and still have them want to discuss things.

  Maybe this would work out, after all.

  Part One:

  Le Problème de la Transition

  (The Problem with Transition)

  One

  Portland, Oregon… June 30, 2025

  Jason’s phone rang just as Malik and Edward settled in for their discussion. “Pardon me,” he said reaching for the loudspeaker button.

  “Answer,” he said over the sounds around him, and the screen came to life.

  Before them, two faces appeared, and he smiled.

  Just in time.

  Perhaps if things went as well as he’d hoped, they’d all get a few conversations in to acquaint themselves before the trip to Israel. And if not, at least there would be this once.

  “We should be there in about ten minutes,” the taller, leaner, swarthier of the two said, smiling widely. “We got a little lost, but we’re on the way. Need us to pick anything up at the Safeway while we’re in the parking lot,” he asked, then laughed.

  The second, fairer but still dark-haired man beside him laughed with him. “Seriously. We were just in there grabbing some coffee and figured we should check before heading over.”

  Jason looked to his co-workers, who both shook their heads. “I think we’re good. Come on over. We’ve got plenty to discuss. I was just about to tell them you were on the way.”

  “Good timing then,” the fairer of the two said again. “See you soon.”

  A thumb moved to the screen and it blurped back down, the holographic image disappearing quickly.

  “What was that about,” Malik asked him, turning a puzzled face toward him.

  “I was just about to tell you about something that’s come up that will require these two men to come in and help out for a while; how long, we don’t know yet. Two weeks, possibly three at the most while Edward and I are-”

  Malik stood abruptly.

  “While you are what, may I ask,” he interrupted. “Were you going to wait until the very moment you went somewhere?”

  “Malik, it isn’t like that at all,” Edward put in, smoothing a hand over his trouser leg a moment before turning toward their distraught co-worker. Jason stood and put his palms up.

  “Now, hold on,” he said. “We aren’t going to be leaving until the nineteenth, so I hardly think that’s worth getting upset about. We have some private research to do that’s just…” He looked to Edward to help. How was the best way to put this?

  “Does it have to do with that mirror,” Malik asked, his voice more quiet than normal now. “Or have I been imagining that you two have occasionally been more than a little preoccupied with it?”

  “Well,” Edward began.

  “It does,” Jason told him, nodding. “We’ve done research on our own time, but there are times we’ve had clients who, for one reason or another, have had a connection to it, and there’s just….”

  He let his words trail off again, shrugging.

  “We need to go to Israel for a while to find out one last thing; we can’t finish our research without it, and we’ve studied it since I moved to the Portland area,” Edward finally said, and Malik nodded sullenly.

  “So, you were going to tell me when?”

  “Yeah, that’s what this meeting was going to be about, before Yared and Earnest called to say they were on the way,” Jason assured him.

  Quickly moving to his computer screen, he went back to the airport website where he’d purchased the tickets the night before. He looked up their flight to show the others: from Portland to Boston, then from Boston to the Ben Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv, they would then taxi their way to Jerusalem.

  “Okay,” Malik said again, finally, letting out a sigh. “Thank you for letting me know. I will do my best to be polite and work well with these men,” he continued as the office bell jingled, announcing the arrival of their guests.

  Yared Cohen and Earnest Moffett had been highly recommended by Brice Marshall and his boss over at HUVA. Though there was the potential for uneasiness between Malik and Yared if things got overly personal, Jason trusted his employee enough to know there shouldn’t be any big flare-ups while he and Edward were gone.

  But that didn’t mean that Malik Fakhoury would be happy with the arrangement.

  “Edward, would you see our guests in,” Jason asked as he moved to close out the holoscreen of his computer and set it back to the Rutherford Research logo.

  Wordlessly, his brother-in-law moved to escort the new arrivals into the now-crowded feeling office and, once introductions were made, they all sat once more.

  Jason took a good long look at them and smiled.

  Yared wore his hair nearly as neat and trim as Malik, and their clothing nearly matched, in that they’d both chosen to wear paler reds and yellows along with their slacks. Earnest, by contrast, had on a dark grey suit with a silver and purple striped tie, and his hair was grazing the collar of the jacket. Both men were slim, and their eyes were kind. Yared’s had just a hint of danger behind them, but Earnest’s – a pale green-grey –suggested mirth.

/>   “I appreciate your assistance, especially on such short notice,” he told them. “I realize you’re both well sought after for your skills in the area of historical research, and that it couldn’t have been an easy decision choosing between a small firm like ours and one of the larger conglomerates,” he continued, smiling.

  “Not at all,” Earnest told them, his easy smile revealing a dimple on his left cheek “As soon as Brice asked me, I was all in. He and I go way back, and let’s face it… I owed him a favor or two.”

  “And I, for one, hate corporations,” Yared put in. “Worked at one for over fifteen years, only to be let go simply because I had more seniority than my new boss, who apparently thought I was gunning for his job,” he continued.

  “Were you,” Malik asked him.

  Yared frowned a moment before smiling. “I had contemplated what it would be like to have such a position, but no. I know myself well enough to realize that large groups are not my thing. I do better in smaller environments; always did small team assignments better than any of the larger, more corporation-wide studies and interactions,” he continued. “Must have been from my time in the Forces.”

  “The Forces,” Jason asked him, not realizing the man had a military background.

  “I am Israeli, am I not? Almost everyone born in Israel does some military time. The Israeli Defense Forces. Of course, I did not stay many years with the IDF, but I did my duty, and I did so, proudly,”

  “Impressive,” Jason told him. “And interesting, too. You see, the coverage is needed here because Edward,” he gestured toward him, “he and I are going with a group to Israel for studies of our own. Primarily, I believe, in Jerusalem, though there may be other places, as well.”

  “Yes, I had heard you were going to visit my country. Many blessings on your travels, and much safety, as well,” the man said in reply.

  “Have either of you been to Israel before,” Earnest asked them. “I’d sure like to go, eventually, but as for me, I haven’t.”

  “One man in our party has been a few times, but as for the rest of us, it will be a first,” Edward told them. “But I, for one, look forward to it more and more each day. I am merely thankful for the opportunity and prayerful we will find what we’ve been seeking.”