“Harken! Everything okay at your place?”
“Oh, there’s nothing to fear,” the old shopkeeper replied, waving off any concerns. “I just needed to bring a message.”
“From …?”
Harken smoothly interjected, “The highway will be closed within half an hour, and you’re needed at home. You should leave now.”
Mr. Pomeroy hesitated only a moment. “Ransom, we’re closing up! Everything else will keep until next year.”
The teen drifted over. “Are you sure? I don’t mind sticking around to finish up.”
“Nope. If it’s getting as bad as Harken says, I want to drop you home first,” Jayce countered. “I should still be able to… .”
“Allow me,” Harken interrupted. “I’ll make sure the boy gets home safe and sound. You should go.”
Mr. Pomeroy glanced at Ransom. “Okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Fair enough,” Jayce acknowledged, then slung an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “Though I hate to rush off like this. Harken, this young man has given me an early Christmas present, the best I’ve received in many a year!”
“Oh?” the shopkeeper inquired.
Ransom smirked. “I’m pretty sure I was the one that got the gift.” Nodding politely to Harken, he explained, “I’m a Christian, sir. Newly minted.”
A broad smile graced Harken’s face, and in a deep voice, he declared, “I say to you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” Offering his hand to Ransom, he added, “I’m sure that the heavens are ringing right now, child of God.”
15
THE
WHISPERED
PRAYER
Prissie opened her eyes to nothingness and gasped in dismay. Darkness pressed around her, and somehow, she knew she wasn’t alone. Too afraid to call out, she curled in on herself, ears straining.
“Hello?” came a fragile voice.
“Wh-who’s there?”
There was a soft rustle, and the voice murmured, “Calm your heart, Precious. There is nothing for you to fear here.”
“Where am I?”
“With me,” the voice replied. “I never expected to find you in dreams.”
“Y-you know who I am?”
“Yes, Prissie. I know you,” he replied.
She could hear the smile in his tone, but she wasn’t ready to trust. “Do I know you?” she asked nervously.
“No,” he sighed. “We have never met, but you are Koji’s precious friend. He often speaks of you.”
Prissie had no idea how she knew, but the epiphany was dazzling. Stretching out her hand, she tentatively whispered, “Ephron?”
Prissie woke with a jolt, but this time she didn’t feel as if she were falling. Instead, she was sure she’d been carried away from someplace she wasn’t ready to leave. “Wait!” she muttered, reaching desperately toward the ceiling, trying to hold onto the dream. Staring at her upraised hand, which looked pale and gray in the predawn light, she struggled to recall details. This was something important. She knew that much.
Spreading her fingers wide, stretching hard, she found it was just out of reach, disintegrating like mist before the rising sun. Stubbornly, she curled her fingers into a fist, unwilling to let go, not when everything inside her was begging her to heed God’s message—trust, listen, remember. “I can’t remember,” she whispered. “I tried, but I just can’t remember. If it’s so important … help?”
It wasn’t much of a prayer, at least, not by her standards, but when she closed her eyes in frustration, a fragment of a memory seemed to answer her plea. “Calm your heart, Precious.”
“Ephron!” she gasped. He’d sounded weak, but his words had been kind. He’d known her name and allayed her fears, even though he was the one in danger. Prissie’s chin trembled, for in a sudden rush, she remembered something else. “Koji asked me… .”
Hot shame washed over her, and she hid under her blankets, not wanting anyone—visible or invisible—to see how selfish she’d been. Koji asked for very little, yet she’d withheld something: a prayer for Ephron. The dream had given her a glimpse of his nightmare, and her neglect suddenly felt like a broken promise. Prissie recalled those tunnels, and how terrified she’d been during the brief time she’d been lost in their darkness. Ephron was an angel who longed for the light, yet he’d been hidden from it for months. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry I forgot!”
Her next prayer came easily, for her brief connection with the captured Observer filled her with urgency. Caring and concern welled up from deep within her soul, and she confessed it all to her Father in heaven. It was embarrassing to admit her failure, even when He knew all her secrets anyhow. Yet she continued until, biting her lip, she muttered a soft, “Amen.”
Like a sigh, the worry that had been hanging over her head for weeks whispered away into nothing. Limp with relief, Prissie curled up under her quilts and hoped for the best. If anyone could save Ephron, it was God. She’d done the right thing … finally.
Dozing lightly, she was startled by a quick tap on her door. Before she could answer, Koji slipped into the room, softly closing the door behind him. He all but flung himself onto the bed. Her surprise quickly turned to alarm, for his cheeks were streaked with tears. Folding her arms around his slender shoulders, she begged, “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
The young angel held on tightly, hiding his face as he trembled, but when he finally lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes were shining with joy. “They have been Sent!” he whispered urgently.
“Who has?” she asked, mystified.
“We have!” he replied, smiling through his tears. “Jedrick, Tamaes, and Milo have been Sent!”
“Where have they gone?”
“To Ephron,” he excitedly answered, wrapping his arms around her for a fierce hug. “They are Sent to bring him back!”
Prissie was too stunned to say a thing. It was so sudden. Almost as if… .
A series of thuds and a muffled shout sounded down the hall, soon followed by Tad’s voice, then Neil’s. Zeke’s whoop confused her, since he wasn’t usually so noisy this early. Then Jude opened her door, poking his head around the corner. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
She was still patting Koji’s back and hardly knew how to answer. “What’s going on?” she finally ventured.
The six-year-old giggled. “Did you forget?”
“What are you talking about?”
With a sunny smile, the littlest Pomeroy announced, “It’s Christmas!”
The tiny angel floundered through the darkness, pushing himself to reach the light that sustained him. In the dimness, he blundered into an obstacle and emitted a tiny squeak as two hands closed around him, trapping him. He trembled with exhaustion and fear as he was lifted higher, and a pair of solemn eyes studied his much-dimmed face.
“Well, now,” murmured a familiar voice. “This won’t do at all.”
Lavi blinked through the gaps between long fingers, then managed a soft whimper before sagging to his knees. Abner promptly sat down on the cave floor, humming softly as he ministered to his lost lamb. Light bloomed in the darkness, renewing the yahavim’s strength, and the Caretaker smiled in satisfaction as the little one frisked around his head in a dance of thanksgiving.
“It is good to be reminded that even one as small as you can be counted among the Faithful. Go back to Ephron, little lion.” With a grim smile, Abner further instructed, “Stay with him until we come; for we, too, have been Sent.”
The day was dim, and Prissie was astonished to learn that it was already after eight o’clock when she reached the kitchen. “Has Zeke ever slept this late on Christmas morning?” she wondered aloud.
“Good hibernating weather,” Grandma Nell declared, taking a peek into the oven.
Neil breathed deeply as he shrugged into his coat. “Smells good already! Save me some!”
Momma passed Tad a thermos. “Breakfast
is in an hour. Try to hurry?”
“Not sure the weather’s going to cooperate, but I’ll tell Dad and Grandpa,” her eldest agreed. “How long have they been out there?”
“Your father woke at his usual time and went out to shovel,” Momma replied. “Met your grandfather halfway.”
Grandma Nell interjected, “It’s blowing bad enough that they strung the guidelines. Use them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the boys chorused before heading out into the storm.
Prissie watched from the window. “I can’t even see them anymore.”
“They are safe,” Koji murmured, his dark eyes gazing at the whirl of white beyond the frosted glass.
Momma came up behind them. “They’ll only stay out long enough to see to the animals. Koji, I’d like you and Beau to bring in extra firewood … just in case.”
“I will,” the young angel quickly agreed. He paused and shyly added, “Merry Christmas.”
Mrs. Pomeroy patted his head and warmly returned, “Merry Christmas, Koji.”
Even though it was the same every year, Zeke grumbled over having to wait for the real excitement of Christmas to begin. “First things first,” Momma soothed. “We’ll have all day to play.”
“I’ll help!” the eight-year-old offered, padding toward his boots in his footie pajamas. “Then the work’ll be done faster!”
“Not so fast, young man.” His mother collared him and firmly said, “If you want to help, set the table.”
Zeke pouted mightily, then drooped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Won’t the eggs freeze?” Jude asked worriedly.
“Neil will find them for you today,” Momma soothed.
“Does he know all the best places to check?” the six-year-old asked uncertainly.
Grandma Nell laughed. “Gathering eggs was his job when he was your age. He’s not likely to forget a hen’s tricks.”
“Neil likes chickens?” Jude asked, clearly baffled by this new revelation.
Zeke wisely replied, “Sure he does! Especially when Grandma fries ‘em.”
Eventually, the clock hands crept to the appointed hour, and the menfolk tromped inside, shedding snow and sharing news. “It’s not showing any sign of stopping!” Jayce exclaimed.
“The drift fences are drifted under,” Grandpa Pete grumbled. “I’ll have to get the tractor out this afternoon.”
“It’ll keep,” Grandma Nell chided.
“Time for stockings?” Zeke pleaded.
Mr. Pomeroy grinned. “Sure, sure … just as soon as I shake the icicles from my eyebrows.”
While the rest of the family bustled around, Prissie edged close to Koji and whispered, “When do you think they’ll be back?”
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
“They’ll be okay … right?” she pressed.
The young Observer hesitated, then repeated, “I do not know.”
Marcus pushed himself, fighting to keep up with his mentor, and Jedrick slowed, ever mindful of his apprentice. “This way,” the Flight captain urged, dropping swiftly. Three sets of boots hit the snow, and the young Protector peered at their surroundings. “I know where we are.”
“I should think so,” Tamaes replied.
“We’re still in the orchard?” Marcus asked dubiously. “This can’t be where Ephron is stashed!”
“No.”
“Aww, man! You’re leaving me behind?”
Jedrick’s smile was sympathetic. “Were you Sent?”
“You know I wasn’t,” Marcus muttered.
“This is where you will remain,” his mentor instructed. “Padgett will see to your safety.”
“He’s here?” Golden eyes scanned their surroundings, but there was no sign of the Caretaker.
“He is near,” Tamaes offered.
Just then, a voice called from behind them, and Marcus whirled to see Milo strolling toward them, barefoot in the snow. The Messenger’s wings fluttered in the contrary winds as he said, “We’ll be trading places today, Marcus.”
“There’s no mail to deliver,” the younger apprentice pointed out. “National holiday.”
“Today was meant to be my last day with Aril,” Milo replied seriously. “Thank you for filling in for me.”
Marcus’s eyes widened in comprehension. “This is … that?”
“It is,” Jedrick confirmed.
Padgett joined them then, slipping up without their notice. “Are you prepared?” he inquired. His teammates faced him, and all four nodded. The Caretaker beckoned to Marcus, then looked to Jedrick, simply saying, “Go.”
Green, blue, and orange—three sets of wings disappeared into the storm, and Marcus turned to his companion. Padgett’s long hair whipped around him, but he paid it no mind. “Come,” he invited in a low voice. “I’ll introduce you to Aril.”
“The Gatekeeper?”
“Few know he is here. Fewer still have met him.”
“I knew,” Marcus revealed as Padgett opened the way. “Jedrick trusted me with the knowledge, but I was never called upon to… .” The young Protector trailed off as he lifted his gaze up, up, and even further upward, to gaze into a pair of fiery orange eyes. When he finally found his voice, he breathed, “Whoa!”
The unnatural storm stirred by the fallen Caretaker was devastating, and the whole earth groaned under the weight of his cursed influence. Winds shrilled their complaint, and the ground trembled under his feet.
Fitful gusts tugged at Jedrick’s wings, and the very lack of light made it difficult to stay aloft, so he led his teammates straight upward. Together, they fought their way through the wintery maelstrom, bursting through the upper layers of whirling clouds. In the thin air high above the earth, the Protector picked out the weak glimmer of stars that were quickly fading before the pale sunrise. Normally, dawn drove the enemy into deeper shadows, but the current frenzy showed no sign of breaking up. Gruesome warriors screeched and cursed as they raised their weapons against rank upon rank of cherubim, filling the expanse with their clash.
“Have they guessed our purpose?” murmured Milo.
“I doubt it,” Jedrick replied in a low voice. “Since the Deep was breached, they have grown bolder.”
Tamaes quietly added, “They often test our boundaries. Nights have been long of late.”
The Messenger suddenly dropped, neatly avoiding a fiery dart, and Tamaes quickly placed their unarmed companion at his back. With a rueful smile, Milo remarked, “We’re attracting attention.”
Getting his bearings, Jedrick called, “This way,” and tucked his wings close around his body. Without hesitation, the other two plunged after him into the mad rush of the storm, angling to the northeast. Unfortunately, their departure didn’t go unnoticed. Dark figures careened after them, the storm rattling through their ragged wings. Turning to fight wasn’t an option, so Jedrick sharply ordered, “Faster!”
Milo’s answering grin was fierce, and he darted to the fore, blue wings sweeping expertly through the fitful currents. They shot through the scudding snow, arrowing toward Sunderland State Park and the dark gash that rent the earth, the opening to the cave system that would lead them down to the Deep.
Jedrick banked into a tight spiral, but drew up short as soon as he realized that their way was barred. Tamaes hastened to place himself on the other side of Milo as they considered this newest obstacle. “Is that the only entrance?” the Guardian asked.
“Without a Caretaker’s intervention … yes,” Jedrick grimly confirmed.
Suddenly, a luminous salvo of arrows cut through the murk, driving back the horde clustered around the entrance to the caves. “Press on!” called the captain whose Flight’s bowstrings were already bent for another volley. “The way will also be clear when you return!”
God did not Send without making provision for those Sent. Nodding curtly, Jedrick beckoned for Tamaes and Milo to follow him through the opening they’d created. “Be ready!” he warned, giving his sword a twirl before firming his grip.
“I am prepared,” Tamaes answered.
“I, also,” Milo affirmed.
As one, they blazed into the darkness.
Prissie found it almost impossible to concentrate on the fun that usually came with opening presents. She kept checking the clock and wondering if her angelic friends were okay. More than once as the day wore on, she found her way to one of the windows to peer out into the storm.
“Whoever prayed up a white Christmas had a heap of faith,” her grandfather gruffly announced. “But there’s nothing to worry about. We’ve weathered worse.”
With a sigh, Prissie offered Grandpa Pete a meager smile. “I know.”
“Then what’s troubling you?” pressed the old man. “Did you have your heart set on something that’s missing?”
Prissie blinked in surprise at how close he was to the truth, but she quickly assured, “I’m happy with my gifts, Grandpa. I guess I’m just … thinking about people who couldn’t be with us this morning.”
“Plenty of folk would have been welcome, but don’t lose sight of what’s right in front of you by hankering after what could have been.” With a significant nod, her grandfather drew her attention to Koji, who was listening with incredible patience as Zeke rambled through a convoluted explanation of the rules to the board game they’d be playing next. “That boy’s happiest when you’re smiling, and you’re being a mite stingy today.”
Ducking her head, Prissie replied, “I’ll do my best, Grandpa.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “That’s the way. Give your best, and leave the rest to the good Lord.”
Swords flashing, the three angels shot through the cave entrance, bowling over the few Fallen apparently left to keep watch. The demons squealed and scrabbled for cover, spouting profanities at those whose rank in the heaven-lies they’d once shared. Chances were good that they’d be bringing reinforcements.
For several long moments, Jedrick, Tamaes, and Milo gazed around the large, central cavern from which Sunderland’s innumerable underground passages branched. Without the overhead lighting switched on, the open space was a formless void. While their own wings whispered softly in the stillness, the occasional sour note betrayed the lingering presence of those waiting for their chance.
The Broken Window Page 15