The Blue Door

by Christa J. Kinde

  April gave the girl a poke and demanded, “Coming over to my house was nothing?”

  “Your house doesn’t have a coffee shop, summer clearances, or cute guys!” Jennifer argued.

  Prissie glanced after their driver, who’d manfully escaped in the direction of the food court. “Are you talking about my brother?”

  “Not Tad,” she giggled. “I was talking about hypothetical boys. You never know who we might see at the mall!”

  “Hypothetical, huh?” April countered with a smirk. “Are you sure you’re not thinking of someone in particular?”

  Margery glanced up from her cell phone and remarked, “I think it’s pretty obvious who she’s hoping to see. Jennifer has a one-track mind.”

  “Right up until she changes it!” April teased.

  Jennifer giggled all the more, and Prissie smiled. It was almost like old times. Almost. Despite being exactly where she wanted to be, and with the people she wanted to be close to, something felt a little odd. Without meaning to, she found herself scanning the crowds and wondering if everyone’s guardian angels were camped out on the roof. The middle of the mall was spacious enough for flight. Even now, it could be a battlefield.

  “Oooh, he’s gorgeous!” Jennifer swooned, her gaze fixed upward as they rode an escalator down.

  “Interesting fashion sense,” April remarked, tapping Prissie’s shoulder to get her attention. “You two match.”

  By the time she figured out where to look, the young man had turned away, so she only caught a glimpse of sleek, dark hair and a shirt in the same rich shade of violet as hers. Prissie’s heart gave a little leap, for she was almost positive it had been Adin.

  “I saw him earlier, outside the dressing rooms,” Margery interjected.

  “Maybe he’s following us!” giggled Jennifer.

  April snorted. “Even if he’s pretty to look at, that would be creepy.”

  Prissie hadn’t wanted anything supernatural to follow her to the mall, but Adin fit neatly into the category of pleasant angelic encounters. “I hope we see him again,” she murmured.

  They wandered through shops for a couple of hours, then agreed it was high time for a treat. Migrating toward a popular establishment on the first floor, they ordered iced coffees and crowded around one of the tiny tables out front to watch passersby. Prissie was still on the lookout for men in violet shirts.

  “Omigosh! Did you see him?” Jennifer squealed.

  “Can you be more specific?” April asked, glancing around quizzically. “There are a lot of guys to choose from.”

  “The gorgeous stalker again?” Margery guessed.

  “Marcus!” the girl hissed, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe he’s actually here! And he was looking right at me! Omigosh!”

  “Marcus from our class Marcus?” Prissie checked, trying to keep the incredulity from her tone.

  “More like the Marcus,” April replied. “And I don’t see him. Are you sure you’re not hallucinating, Jennifer? It’s a dangerous business, mixing caffeine and crushes.”

  “He was right up there a second ago!” Pointing to the mall’s second level, she muttered, “And of course I’m sure!”

  “He’s hard to miss with that hair,” Prissie reasoned, scanning the upper walkway.

  “I know!” crooned Jennifer, a dreamy expression on her face. “I wonder why he’s here.”

  “Destiny,” April deadpanned. “Or there’s the remote possibility that he has shopping to do. How about we ask him?”

  Shaking her head, Jennifer mournfully said, “He’s gone.”

  “He can’t have gotten far,” April challenged.

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  “Dare you to,” Margery interjected, egging them on.

  “Done!” April had never been shy about approaching people, and she was on her feet in a moment. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she loudly announced, “I’ll just go say hello!”

  When she sauntered off without a backward glance, Jennifer wailed in dismay and snatched up her various bags before chasing after her. Shaking her head, Prissie remarked, “I can’t believe she’s being so silly over someone like Marcus.”

  Margery’s green eyes were oddly flat. “You’re one to talk. When we were kids, you were in love with the mailman.”

  Whether intended or not, the barb cut deeply, and it took a while for Prissie to work around the sudden tightness in her throat. “You’re right,” she managed. “I shouldn’t criticize.”

  Her friend shrugged and carelessly said, “At least Marcus is good looking.”

  Prissie wanted to defend Milo somehow, but to do so would mean confessing too much. Valiantly changing the subject, she asked, “Do you have any shopping you need to do?”

  “Not really,” Margery replied, sounding bored. “I was here yesterday.”

  “Oh.” Her mind was a blank, so she sipped her iced coffee in awkward silence. When her friend’s phone gave a perky ching-a-ring, Prissie honestly thought she’d been saved by the bell. Margery whipped it out and smiled at the display. “Message?” Prissie politely inquired.

  “Yep.”

  “Is it April?”

  “Nope,” Margery replied, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder and standing. “Come on.”

  “But what if they come back, and we’re gone?”

  Rolling her eyes, she held up her phone. “All they have to do is call, and we’ll tell them where we are!”

  Feeling stupid, Prissie mumbled, “Obviously.” Margery headed straight for the main entrance, and she had to lengthen her strides to keep up. “Where are we going?” she finally asked.

  Her friend didn’t answer. She was too busy waving to someone leaning against the wall just inside the bank of sliding doors. “Elise! You made it!”

  “I pulled it off,” she said.

  Margery turned to Prissie and smiled sweetly. “It turns out Elise could come, too.”

  “It’s not like you guys were excluding me on purpose,” Elise said.

  At a loss for what else to say, Prissie lamely said, “Hello. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Hooking her arm through the other girl’s, Margery demanded, “Where were you all morning?”

  “Out.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Stuff,” Elise replied with a haughty glance that suggested she wasn’t going to say anything while Prissie was in earshot.

  Although she’d thought Margery was being unusually quiet, Prissie felt sick when her best friend suddenly transformed into her old, chatterbox self, gushing with news as she led Elise toward the glass elevators. Her steps lagged as the other two girls boarded. Elise quirked a brow. “Are you coming, or what?”

  Prissie shot a pleading look at Margery, who knew about her fear of heights. The message carried across, and Margery exclaimed, “Oh! That’s right!” However, instead of getting off, she nodded toward the high-end department store at the far end of the mall and said, “We’ll be up in the makeup department. Catch up to us there.”

  “Or not!” Elise added with a smirk. And the doors slid shut.

  Too stunned to move, Prissie watched the elevator soar upward without her.

  “That wasn’t very nice.” Prissie turned in surprise to find Adin standing nearby, also watching the elevator’s ascent. His gaze slanted her way, and he mildly inquired, “Friends of yours?”

  “Not so much,” she murmured, grateful that God had again seen fit to send reinforcements. With a wan smile, she asked, “Are you here to keep me company?”

  Glancing around, he remarked, “Since you’re suddenly on your own, how can I do otherwise? It’ll give us the chance to catch up!”

  “I’d like that,” she admitted, grateful that Adin had showed up right when she’d needed him most. Only Koji would have been more welcome right now. Unlike Margery, he was a friend she could count on.

  As if he could read her mind, Adin remarked, “I hear you’re keeping an Observer aro
und the house these days.”

  “Koji,” she replied warmly.

  “I see he’s endeared himself to you,” he said with a soft laugh.

  Smiling readily, she explained, “We’re friends.”

  “I’m surprised he isn’t with you.”

  Prissie looked away sheepishly. “Oh, he would have been, but it’s just girls today.”

  Adin leaned down in order to get her to meet his gaze. “Are you regretting that choice?”

  “Just a little.”

  His brows lifted, and she blushed.

  “Okay, maybe a lot.”

  They strolled along companionably. “The two of you must be close.”

  “I guess.” Was it possible to be closer to Koji, someone she’d only known for a few weeks, than to Margery, someone she’d known for years? That’s certainly how she felt. Prissie suddenly realized why Adin’s assessment rang true. “I trust him.”

  “Naturally,” Adin rejoined. “The Faithful are faithful, after all!”

  “Oh, right,” she murmured, embarrassed to have taken so long to come to such an obvious conclusion.

  “I’m sure he trusts you, as well.”

  “I suppose.” Prissie wasn’t so sure Koji could count on her, not when she was so frightened by what friendship with him might lead to. The Faithful were one thing, but the Fallen were another. Getting mixed up in an invisible war sounded like a very bad idea.

  “Prissie?” She nearly bumped into Adin, who’d swung around to face her. “You’re not listening to me,” he scolded in sing-song tones.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “I was only saying that good friends often trade secrets.”

  Color rose in her cheeks as Prissie recalled some of the secrets she’d entrusted to Margery. Would the girl keep them even if their friendship ended, or would they be betrayed to the likes of Elise?

  Adin’s brows lifted inquiringly. “Is that a yes?”

  “Naturally,” she murmured, unconsciously borrowing his word. “The longer you know someone, the more secrets you share.”

  Suddenly, something bright zipped between them, and they both stepped back in surprise. More dazzling lights arrowed past, like so many shooting stars. Prissie gasped in delight and backed up even further to watch a cluster of yahavim spiral toward the ceiling far overhead. “Did you see? I wonder what they’re doing here!”

  Her companion laughed lightly and said, “It seems a new escort has arrived.”

  More tiny angels darted in from every direction, as if drawn by the others. Several tapped her, as if to say, I found you! She smiled at their antics, and her heart melted every time one smiled back. The only problem was, the more of them there were, the brighter it became.

  “Since these little ones seem to think you need them, I’ll leave you to their tender mercies!”

  “Thank you, Adin.” With a slightly harried smile, she earnestly said, “You always seem to cheer me up.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he demurred. “And don’t be afraid to get closer to your Observer friend. Something tells me his secrets will be well worth finding out!”

  More little manna-makers rushed around her, and Prissie was nearly blinded by their combined glory. Trying to act naturally in case anyone was looking, she slipped into a long, empty hall with lockers, pay phones, and an exit sign flickering at the far end. Blinking away the spots that danced before her eyes, she quietly demanded, “What’s gotten into you guys?”

  When Prissie held out her hands, two of the tiny angels settled on her palms. She didn’t really recognize them, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying their company. She seemed to have attracted an entire flock, and their soft humming and affectionate gestures banished many of her fears. Even at the mall, God was watching over her.

  All at once, the yahavim scattered, just as someone swung around the corner, nearly knocking her off her feet. Hands grabbed her shoulders, and a gruff voice muttered, “That was close.” Prissie stared blankly into the scowling face of Marcus Truman. “You okay?” he asked.

  Badly startled and more than a little afraid, she twisted away from him, demanding, “Get away from me!”

  “ ‘Scuse me,” he quickly apologized, holding up his hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Prissie glanced around, wondering where all the manna-makers had disappeared to. Had Marcus’s arrival driven them off? With the beginnings of a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she edged toward the safety in numbers that the mall offered.

  Her classmate shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and bluntly asked, “Do you think maybe you could call off that friend of yours?”

  “Jennifer?”

  “That’s the one,” he confirmed.

  “Oh.” With a glance down the empty hallway, Prissie asked, “Are you hiding from her?”

  “Sorta. Are you?”

  She shook her head. “We were separated.”

  “No kidding,” he muttered, looking disgusted. “Try the food court.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  He grumbled something under his breath, but his answer was civil enough. “Because I last saw her in the food court with April. They were talking to your brother.”

  With a hasty word of thanks, she fled, wanting nothing more than to reach Tad and convince him it was time to go home. Although she hated to admit it, hiding was exactly what she wanted to do right now.

  19

  THE SUMMER’S END

  Jedrick,” the Fallen said, pleased when Ephron twitched at the name. “He’s your captain. No … he was your captain. I’ve been looking into the members of your former Flight.”

  His prisoner turned his face to the wall.

  “Such an unusual group, with a shocking number of Grafts.” His voice dripped with sweet poison. “But there’s someone even rarer under his watch-care, isn’t there, Ephron?”

  The Observer sat rigidly against the wall of the pit, his breaths shallow due to pain, or possibly fear.

  “Two someones!” he revealed, exulting in his discovery.

  Ephron sagged a little, resting his forehead against his prison wall.

  His captor scowled, for the whelp’s reaction felt more like relief than resignation. Features twisting into an ugly mask, he spat, “You served with two Caretakers, yet you fester in this hole! What more proof do you need that God has turned his back on you?”

  This time, the angel turned his bandaged face toward his tormentor. Lifting his pointed chin, he spoke in a light voice left ragged by pain, yet filled with grim resolve. “Even so, I will remain faithful.”

  One day followed the next, and Prissie kept waiting for something else to happen, but it didn’t. Her family went on as if everything was perfectly normal, and after all the excitement, she found the ordinariness of the week reassuring. From sunup to sundown, Grandma Nell kept her running between the garden and kitchen and from the kitchen to the cellar, where long shelves were filling up with jars of summer’s bounty. Same old, same old had never been more welcome.

  While Prissie’s hands were busy, she tried very hard not to think about angels with swords, invisible wars, and the existence of demons. It was much nicer to dwell on visions of rainbow-hued wings, the elusive sweetness of manna, and the feel of Omri’s tiny arms wrapped around her thumb. As she carried quart jars of tomatoes down the basement stairs, she sighed and muttered, “It’s no use. I can’t un-know what I know.”

  There were things out there that were bad enough to make Koji tremble and to rob Milo of his smile. Protectors and Guardians carried weapons and bore the scars of battle because the conflict was real and closer to home than she’d ever imagined. But at the same time, there were good things that she didn’t want to give up. While she added to the neat rows of canned fruits and vegetables, she put together a wish list. “I want to hear Kester play every kind of instrument, and ask Harken if I can go through the blue door again, and see if any of the little angels in Abner’s flock are
as nice as Omri, and hear Baird’s songs, and see Milo’s wings, and tell Tamaes that I think I remember him a little.”

  She hadn’t seen any sign of her guardian angel since they’d been introduced. To be honest, Prissie was relieved. It had been weird enough to deal with the invasion of her privacy that Koji represented, but what was she supposed to do about an invisible protector who had been with her since she was born? Sure, he existed to protect her, but he was still a guy. While she appreciated knowing her guardian angel’s identity, the whole situation was awkward.

  Still, Milo had called their meeting precious. Not a word she would have used, but Prissie had a vague idea that the Messenger had been looking at things from Tamaes’ point of view. Suddenly, it occurred to her that her reaction had probably been a big disappointment for the Guardian. For days, she’d been pretending he wasn’t there. Had she hurt his feelings in the process?

  Prissie peered uncertainly around the cellar. Light from two bare bulbs gleamed off of whitewashed stone in the cool, slightly musty storeroom. She certainly felt alone, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was. “Are you here, Tamaes?” she whispered.

  No answer came.

  A moment later, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Koji called, “Prissie?”

  “Y-yeah?” she replied, feeling a little guilty without knowing why.

  Since the events at the fair, Koji had been the one constant reminder of the presence of angels. He sat across from her at meals and helped her in the garden, but he was also holding back. She thought he always looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his peace, spending more and more time with her brothers. Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt as though the young angel was waiting for her. If only she had a clue what he wanted.

  Koji stopped partway down the stairs and sat, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Do you need help?”

  “Not really. I just finished.”

  He considered her solemnly, then announced, “It would be just as silly to pray to an angel as it would be to pray to your cat.”

  “I wasn’t!” she protested. “Not really. I was just checking?”