Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light

by Julie K. Timlin

  “Yes, Dad,” replied Phoebe, “We’re good to go. All geared up.” And she raised an eyebrow out the Jeep window to Cosain, who was travelling unseen alongside the family as they set out on what would be the journey of their lifetime.

  CHAPTER 18

  The Wrens’ blue four by four vehicle rumbled along the dusty tracks towards their almost empty home. All the passengers seemed content with their own thoughts for the best part of the journey, until eventually Demetrius broke the silence with a question.

  “What was it you needed to speak to me about?” he enquired, when he just couldn’t wait any longer to be asked the question he was more than ready to answer.

  “Oh, yeah… Uh, Jack?” Eva was caught off guard, and deflected Demetrius’s enquiry towards her husband.

  “Well, Dem, it’s like this,” Jack picked his words carefully, and paused before he went on. “Eva and I have been speaking with your Uncle Esau and Aunt Martha during the last few weeks, and they wondered… that is, we wondered – uh, we all wondered whether you might like to… well, come back to Ireland with us? I mean, there’s no pressure, and this will be entirely your decision, but given the fact that your folks… uh, well, with them not being around any more…” Jack’s voice trailed off. “I’m sorry, Dem, I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

  The fact was Jack was right. Sixteen year old Demetrius had a limited memory of his parents. Julius and Theodora – or Teddy as she had been affectionately known – had met Jack and Eva at Medical Missions, where they worked alongside them during their gap year in 1990. The pair had been inseparable, and had married in 1992, the year before Jack and Eva were married. They had been thrilled to welcome Demetrius into the world in 1993, and for a few happy years the family had lived and worked in Johannesburg. On their way home from Medical Missions Hospital on an unexceptional Monday in September 2000, everything changed, when the Kwangas’ car slid off the track and crashed head on into a tree at the bottom of a steep bank. There had never been any acceptable explanation for the freak storm that blew up from nowhere and disappeared just as fast, but no-one had any doubt that it was the sudden torrential rain which had sent the Kwangas’ vehicle careering irretrievably out of control. Julius and Teddy were killed instantly, but against the odds, seven year old Demetrius survived the crash, although he had sustained fairly serious injuries. After a time spent recuperating in hospital, the young boy had been taken in by his mother’s sister, Aunt Martha, who loved him and raised him in a manner that would have made her sister proud. Jack, Eva and five year old Phoebe had moved to Africa just a few short weeks after the accident; Jack and Eva had been devastated by the loss of their friends, but Demetrius and Phoebe had struck up an instantaneous friendship which, even at their tender ages, they knew would last a lifetime. From the day they met, Demetrius and Phoebe had shared a bond which was deeper than friendship – Jack and Eva always commented that the pair were more like siblings, but whatever their connection, they had been joined at the hip for ten years, and now, just forty eight hours before they were to be separated to opposite ends of the earth, the teenagers were being offered a lifeline which would allow them to stay together.

  “It’s okay, Jack, I don’t mind you speaking of my folks,” said Demetrius sadly. Ten years on, and Demetrius still felt a twinge of sorrow when his parents were mentioned, although on this occasion his sadness was eased by the prospect of a new life in Ireland with Phoebe and her family. He looked across at Phoebe, whose excitement had been usurped by concern for her friend – this was a huge move for Demetrius, and although she desperately wanted him to come with her to Ireland, she needed him to weigh up his options so that he would be able to make the right choice. Of course, the thought of being able to see Demetrius every single day made Phoebe feel like jumping up and down with glee, but she was trying hard not to allow herself to be selfish, and so she waited nervously for his decision.

  “What did Uncle Esau and Aunt Martha think to it all?” Demetrius enquired, obviously concerned at the thought of hurting his beloved aunt and uncle in any way.

  Eva turned around in her seat and smiled sympathetically at Demetrius, whose furrowed brow and worried look tugged at her motherly heart. “Esau and Martha know that you’re old enough to decide for yourself what’s right for you, Dem. Of course they would miss you dearly, as would your cousins, but I think that as long as you’re happy, Esau and Martha will be content with whatever you decide to do.” Eva already fulfilled a motherly role in Demetrius’s life, and he trusted her implicitly.

  Aunt Martha. Demetrius could picture her sweet face and kind brown eyes. He had no doubt that she and Uncle Esau loved him dearly, but somehow he also instinctively knew that his place was with Phoebe and her parents, and what he and Phoebe had experienced together in the last day only served to reinforce their connection. Besides, Esau and Martha had their own kids – Bessie, Jacob and Grace – to think about. Demetrius adored his little cousins, who in reality had been like younger siblings to him. He would miss them all so much, but somehow he felt at peace that the decision he was about to make was the right one for him at this time.

  The Wrens’ blue Jeep rumbled on for another mile or so before Demetrius spoke again. Phoebe thought she might burst with anticipation, but she forced herself to keep quiet and allow her friend to mull over his options. Blabbing out her thoughts on the matter would be unfair and unhelpful right now, she knew.

  Eventually, Demetrius spoke. “You know,” he said slowly, “I think that going with you to Ireland is the right thing for me to do. I have had a good life here, and this potential move feels not like an ending but a beginning.” Demetrius paused, obviously wrangling with the bunch of varied emotions that were undoubtedly running riot in his heart. “But I have some tricky farewells to say before Friday…” He clenched his jaw and smiled at Phoebe, a mixture of sadness and anticipation in his brown eyes.

  “That’s for sure,” said Jack, as he clicked on the Jeep’s right indicator and pulled off the dusty road and on to the track that lead to Esau and Martha Otonnos’ house.

  CHAPTER 19

  Esau and Martha were out front of their house as Demetrius and the Wrens pulled up.

  “Jack, Eva, hello! Stop the car, come on in!” called Martha with her trademark beaming smile that had always made the Wrens feel at home.

  Esau had been giving the wooden fence around the Otonnos’ home a fresh lick of brilliant white paint, but he set his brush down and put the lid back on the paint pot when he heard Jack and Eva pull up, and came over to greet his friends.

  “Not long now, eh?” Esau smiled warmly at the Wrens, “Are you excited to get back to Ireland, Phoebe?”

  “Hey Esau,” replied Phoebe, “Yeah, I’m looking forward to getting back there, it’s been a looong time since I last saw my family.”

  Jack had turned off the Jeep’s ignition, and he and Eva got out and embraced Esau and Martha.

  “Well, we’ve asked him,” Jack said, nodding his head towards Demetrius. “And you were right, I think Dem may be coming back to Ireland with us.”

  Jack’s voice trailed off and he regarded Esau’s and Martha’s faces for a moment in an effort to gauge their reaction. They had been fairly sure that Demetrius would make the move, but hearing it for sure must have been difficult.

  “Let me get you a cold drink,” said Martha, ever the hostess, and she ushered the Wrens into their humble but incredibly homely abode. If her heart was breaking, as Jack suspected it must be, she was too selfless and gracious to let it show. She and Esau had only ever wanted the best for Demetrius, and now it seemed that the time had come to offer him the ultimate gift they could give him – the freedom to make his own choice, and their blessing on whatever that may be.

  Inside the house, the adults brought their drinks into the living area, and sat down together for a last chat.

  “Wow,” exclaimed Martha, her voice edged with sadness. “I actually can’t believe this day has arrived! Has it really b
een ten years? We’ve been on quite a journey, eh Dem?” She smiled kindly at her nephew, and Demetrius instinctively knew that Martha had known for some time without ever having been told that he had to go to Ireland with the Wrens.

  “Yeah, it really has,” sighed Demetrius, as his thoughts turned again to his parents, Julius and Teddy. He wondered how things might have been different had they not lost their lives on that fateful day in September 2000. Would his parents still be working alongside the Wrens at Medical Miracles Hospital? Would he have brothers and sisters? Would they be proud of him?

  As if she could read Demetrius’s mind, Martha spoke, “Dem, you know that Esau and I have been talking with Jack and Eva about the possibility of you going to live with them in Ireland, right? Demetrius, honey, if this is something you would like to do, then you have our blessing. Your parents would be so proud of you, Demetrius, you have grown into a wonderful young man – we’re all so proud of you, and I know that your parents would want you to do what’s right for you at this time. What do you think, Dem?”

  Demetrius’s eyes had filled with tears, which threatened to overspill down his cheeks. He swallowed hard, then looked from Phoebe to Esau and Martha before he spoke.

  “Uncle Esau, Aunt Martha, I am so grateful to you for everything you have done for me. I have no idea where I would be if it weren’t for both of you! I hope you know that I have loved living here, I have loved having Bessie, Jacob and Grace as my little brother and sisters.” Demetrius stopped, obviously struggling to control his emotions. “I feel that moving to Ireland with the Wrens is the right thing for me to do. It’s a massive step, I know, but it just feels… right. Phoebe is my best friend, and I believe that we have things ahead of us that we will need to do together.”

  Demetrius looked at Phoebe, whose eyes had also filled with tears for her friend. She knew that this was a gut wrenching decision for Demetrius, but she, unlike the others in the room, also had the benefit of the foreknowledge afforded her and Dem by Cosain, “Tomorrow, you will travel with Phoebe and her parents – you are a part of her story, you both have work to do back in Ireland.” Phoebe knew without a shadow of a doubt that whatever the work was of which Cosain had spoken, it must be something with eternal ramifications, something significant enough to make all the powers of darkness want to stop it before it even started.

  “Then it is decided,” Esau’s gentle yet authoritative voice broke the silence and brought Phoebe and Demetrius back from their own little thought bubbles. “You will always be like a son to us, Demetrius, but a big part of a parent’s job is to encourage their children to do what is best for them. And we believe that you are making the right decision, Dem. You have our blessing.” Esau’s eyes lit up a little mischievously. “And besides,” he said, “We can always come visit, I’m sure you won’t mind three noisy little ones crashing on your floor for a week or two?”

  Demetrius broke into a grin. “Of course I won’t mind!” he beamed. “In fact, they can have my bed when you come visit, and I’ll crash on the floor.”

  Demetrius jumped to his feet, crossed the room, and hugged Esau and Martha so tightly that Martha felt she might break.

  “You guys have a lot to do, we’ll hit the road and get the last of our packing done. I imagine we’ll see you tomorrow” said Jack, setting his empty glass down and taking Eva’s hand as he helped her to her feet. “Come on, Phoebe, let Dem get organised.”

  Phoebe gave Demetrius a quick hug. “I’m so happy you’re coming with us! Cosain was right!” she whispered in his ear, and smiled as her friend winked knowingly at her.

  And with that the Wrens said their goodbyes, climbed into their Jeep, and headed off for their own home to finalise their packing.

  Unseen by anyone, Lieutenant Garshwell unfurled his wings and shot skyward from behind the back wall of the Kwangas’ house. He had heard enough to know that whatever the Atoner had planned for the Wrens, this bothersome boy Demetrius played a significant role. Or at least he would have – but Garshwell vowed to make sure that the bothersome mortal never got the chance.

  CHAPTER 20

  Back at the Wrens’ almost empty house, Jack and Eva busied themselves with last minute packing. It was getting late now; the light was dying and it had been a very long day. Phoebe was so tired she could barely see straight.

  “I think I’ll call it a day,” she yawned, “I can finish off anything that needs seeing to tomorrow, we have an extra day now that we don’t fly until Friday.”

  “Okay, sweetie,” smiled Eva, as she stifled a yawn of her own. “See you in the morning, sleep tight.”

  “Sleep well, Phoebe,” echoed Jack. “And thanks for your help at the hospital earlier. That was some kind of crazy day!”

  “It sure was,” mused Phoebe, “If only you knew the half of it…”

  Phoebe hugged her parents, then left them in the living room and trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. Was it really only this morning that she had been an orphan, still getting used to her new life in Ireland? Crazy. She pulled on her nightdress, and walked over to the bedroom window. Above the house, she could just make out two glowing figures – one of them was definitely Croga, because Phoebe could see the ‘X’ shape formed by his twin swords; she assumed the other to be Lasair, although it was difficult to be sure from this distance and under the cover of darkness. Phoebe climbed wearily into bed, snuggled down under the blankets, and before drifting off to sleep, it occurred to her to wonder where the other angelic warriors were if only Croga and Lasair had been stationed at her house. Exhausted by the day’s events, Phoebe did not give this much extra thought, and she uttered a brief prayer of thanks before she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Back at the Otonno household, Demetrius was also getting ready for bed. He, like Phoebe, was exhausted from a strange and eventful day, but was aware of the presence of Cosain, Solas, Dilis, Trean and Neam, who he had spotted stationed around the boundaries of his home. “Hmmm,” he pondered, “Why are so many of you here? And why are you not all with the Wrens?” A long and emotional day had left Demetrius drained and exhausted, and despite his curiosity at the angels’ presence he could not stay awake any longer and closed the blinds on the scene outside before crawling gratefully into bed, whispering a prayer of thanks and falling into a deep sleep.

  Within moments, a sudden ear splitting shriek pierced the silent darkness. Captain Schnither and Lieutenant Garshwell, in full battle regalia, shot from the dark African sky like rogue fireworks with a horde of hideous demons following in their wake. Cosain knew that it had been inevitable that the Enemy would eventually discover Demetrius’s significance to the Atoner’s plans and would attempt to thwart his move to Ireland. Given that no real threat had been made on Demetrius’s life to date, Cosain knew too that it was highly probable that the enemy would move to eradicate the threat posed by Demetrius tonight.

  “Cosain,” Garshwell screamed, “Captain of the Host of Heaven! Prepare for the end! You cannot save the boy! He is ours!”

  In the blink of an eye, Cosain and the Heavenly warriors had taken to the sky, heading as one straight for Schnither, Garshwell and the demonic troop, like a radiating bolt of majestic lightning. The angels shot head first into the black writhing mass of evil, blasting it apart so that demons went flying in every direction, like the explosion of a macabre Catherine wheel. The initial impact was devastating for the demons, with dozens of them sent spiralling and spinning to their doom before they even had a chance to swing their swords. The larger, stronger demons were not so easily disassembled however. Garshwell and half the horde pulled back, circling higher into the sky then doubling back until they were behind Cosain and the angelic warriors. From the dark fray, Schnither and the other half of the malevolent troop unleashed all their fury on the angels, ensuring that they had to focus all their attention on fending off that attack while Garshwell and his minions regrouped and prepared to attack from behind. The onslaught that followed was fierce and devastating. Cosa
in, Solas, Dilis, Trean and Neam, seeing that they were hideously outnumbered, formed a defensive ring, standing shoulder to shoulder and rallying against the hellish brood with all their might. The ethereal warriors fought bravely, and their defensive stance enabled them to shield and defend each other while sending one screeching fiend after another to the Abyss.

  But the demonic horde was relentless, and for every fiend despatched to the hellish void, five more seemed to appear until Cosain and his angelic brothers began to wane and weaken. Wave after wave of demons threw all their fury at the angelic warriors, whose resolve never diminished, although their backs and arms and legs burned with exertion and exhaustion.

  “Cosain” gasped Trean, “We cannot continue like this indefinitely! What are we going to do, Captain?”

  Cosain could see the look of bewildered disbelief on Trean’s face mirrored on the other angels’ faces, and it was as he looked around that his guard dropped, just momentarily, and Schnither seized his chance. He lunged at the Heavenly Captain, slicing through his upper right arm with his crooked, serrated blade and leaving a deep gaping wound. As the angelic blood poured out, Cosain winced in pain and had to make a huge effort not to drop his sword as his left hand shot instinctively up to put pressure on the yawning wound. Cosain tried in vain to lift his sword, but the wound inflicted on him was too deep, and his right arm was powerless. He would never let Schnither claim the victory, however, and swapping his sword into his left hand, Cosain resumed the fight, although gravely weakened by his injury. Schnither retreated upwards, screeching with glee – not only had his aim hit its angelic mark, but he had wounded the Captain of the Host. He hoped with all his black heart that it would be a fatal wound, and even the mere possibility of Cosain’s demise made his hideous face contort in warped joy, his red eyes flashing and his cackling mouth revealing three rows of rotting teeth.