Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light

by Julie K. Timlin

  “I have much to learn,” murmured Dilis, eyes downcast.

  “And all the time in eternity to do it!” Neam grinned, displaying his brilliant white teeth, and Dilis visibly relaxed.

  “Thank you for your patience with this whippersnapper, brothers!” he exclaimed, and the other warriors chuckled their approval of the earnest young angel.

  Solas’s assertion broke through the angels’ voices. “Look!” he cried, “It is Cosain and Lasair.”

  The warriors all rose to their feet as their captain approached. They could see from his purposeful stride and the placement of his hand on his sword that it was time for action.

  “What news, Captain?” asked Croga, his brown eyes intent and focused.

  “The Atoner is very pleased with your work thus far. Lasair and I updated Him on everything that has happened, and brought Him up to speed on the Enemy’s plans for the destruction of the Wren family. He has given the order for us to move; we are to leave the Celestial City and return to Phoebe, but we must not make our presence known until the last moment. Our attack, this final battle, must be the epitome of stealth. We will catch the Enemy unaware, route the powers of darkness back to the Abyss, and escort Phoebe and her loved ones safely back to Ireland. The Atoner has great plans for Phoebe and Demetrius, and Jack and Eva – exciting plans, which will have far reaching consequences for good. Now brothers, prepare yourselves for battle, but do not reveal yourselves until I give the command.”

  “Yes, Captain,” chorused the angelic warriors in unison, as they extended their mighty wings and took to the skies, quickly rendering the Celestial City a shrinking image on the horizon. The angels flew with complete focus and great velocity, while a million miles below them in the departure lounge of Johannesburg International Airport, Phoebe Wren’s pulse quickened as the last call for Araco Airlines flight 454 to Ireland sounded over the tannoy.

  CHAPTER 36

  Several weeks ago, Jack had carefully selected and pre-booked his family’s seats on flight 454 back home to Ireland. Ever the pragmatist, he had figured that a long haul flight like this would be more comfortable with extra leg room, so he had booked two sets of two seats next to the central emergency exits. He had been relieved to find that they had been able to secure exactly the same seats on their rearranged flight, but the irony of sitting next to the emergency exit was not lost on Phoebe as she took her seat next to Demetrius, just across the aisle from her parents.

  “Excited, Love?” Eva leaned forward from her window seat and smiled over at Phoebe, who was busily hauling and tugging at her already fastened seat belt. “Oh… okay, maybe I should ask, ‘nervous?’” Eva joked as she watched her daughter tighten the buckle with intent. “What are you like, Phoebe? Anybody would think you were a nervous flyer!”

  Phoebe realised that her behaviour looked somewhat erratic and conscientiously let go of her seat belt buckle and relaxed her entire body, starting with her wrinkled up forehead and finishing with her curled up toes.

  “Sorry Mum,” she said, forcing herself to smile at Eva. “Just checking. You know what they say… uh, safety first!”

  Eva smiled back at Phoebe then leaned back in her seat, a half-read novel in her hand. Next to her, Jack fastened his own seat belt, shuffled back in his seat, then reached into his hand luggage and pulled out his iPad. The sight of Eva’s book and Jack’s tablet were reminiscent of the family’s flight on Thursday 15th July, and caused a sickening knot to twist in Phoebe’s stomach. She didn’t want any part of this flight to resemble the first time round, so she tentatively suggested that Jack would have to stow his iPad in preparation for takeoff.

  “Okay bossy girl!” Jack teased. “Are you going to jump up and demonstrate how to use the oxygen masks next? Ah, I’m only kidding sweetie, and you’re right anyway, I’ll put it away until we’re airborne.”

  This small and seemingly insignificant victory put Phoebe at ease, and she watched until her father had put away his tablet and engaged his wife in conversation, then she heaved a sigh of relief and settled back into her seat.

  “It’s okay you know, Bird.” Demetrius had done it again – interpreted her jittery behaviour and found the right words to calm her down. “We’re almost there, we made it on to the aeroplane despite the best efforts of Schnither and his minions. Now we have to trust Cosain and the other angels. They know what they’re doing, Phoebe, we can rely on them.”

  Demetrius gave Phoebe’s hand a quick squeeze, then fastened his own seat belt and sat back in preparation for takeoff. Demetrius had never flown before, and Phoebe marvelled at how calm he remained – a new experience like this would have put her on edge without the additional threat from unearthly monsters!

  The last of the passengers blustered up the steps and on to the aeroplane and Phoebe smiled to herself as she thought how she and her parents must have looked first time round when they clambered aboard at the last minute. She was glad that, so far, things had been different; it encouraged her that the rest of the flight could be different too – she needed it to be totally different.

  “Cabin crew prepare for takeoff.”

  The pilot’s voice sounded over the intercom, and Phoebe sensed the old familiar pull of déjà vu. She gripped on to the arms of her seat and closed her eyes.

  “Please Abba…” Her prayer was simple, uncomplicated, direct. “Please, get us home. Don’t let this plane crash. Give Cosain and the others the skills and the strength they will need to help us. And thank you for your love and provision for us.”

  The cabin crew had secured the doors for takeoff and were strapping themselves into little fold away seats facing backwards down the aeroplane and towards the passengers. Ground crew removed the chocks from underneath the plane’s tyres, and it lurched a little as it began to move, then taxied smoothly towards the runway. There was a momentary pause before Phoebe heard the engines roar to life and the aeroplane gathered speed until it was hurtling down the runway, heading for the sky. She felt the plane’s wheels leave the tarmac of the runway and held her breath until she was certain that the tail had cleared the ground and they were officially airborne, then she allowed herself to relax just a bit and loosened her grip on the armrests. She opened her eyes and found Demetrius, head tilted towards her, with a look of unmistakable amusement on his face.

  “Hey!” she protested. “It’s not funny you know, Dem!” She punched him gently on the arm and he winked back at her.

  “I know, Bird, I’m only teasing. But you’ve got to admit, you’re kinda up tight! If anything it should be me having a little meltdown!”

  Phoebe had to admit that he was right, and forced herself to settle down, choosing to believe that the angelic warriors had her back. Besides, they were heading for thirty thousand feet, there was no backing out now – like it or not, she, Demetrius, Jack and Eva were in this for the long haul. As Africa disappeared below her, Phoebe put her head back against her seat and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 37

  “That’s it Captain Schnither sir, it’s practically a done deal! We should make tracks after that plane. Abaddon will expect our report sooner rather than later you know.”

  Craven, a tall, lean and entirely unlikeable creature, leaned forward and hissed his forceful suggestion in Schnither’s ear. Schnither was perched like a giant pulsating gargoyle on top of the airport’s terminal building, and he tensed visibly when Craven spoke. Everything about this demon bothered Schnither, from his serpentine features to his inability to respect personal space, to his horrible tendency to be right about everything. Most of all, Schnither resented the fact that Abaddon had made such a big deal about assigning Craven to this mission – did he not know that Schnither was more than capable of getting rid of a few measly humans by himself? He shuffled his sullen form a few inches away from Craven so that the foul monster’s breath was no longer on the back of his neck, then he turned to face him.

  “We will go,” Schnither said slowly, “When I deem it time. This is my
team, my mission, I am perfectly capable of giving the command.”

  Craven looked startled for a brief moment, then the arrogant creature realised that he had rattled Schnither’s cage, and the thought delighted him.

  “Oh Captain,” he goaded as he raised one sarcastic eyebrow, “Of course I know that you are the boss here. I am sure that Abaddon only despatched me as back up; I doubt very much that my selection had anything to do with your past, shall we say, not entirely successful attempts at putting a stop to the Wrens’ shenanigans.”

  Schnither’s fury was rising in his chest and sulphurous yellow smoke began to seep from his nostrils. Craven had not worked alongside Schnither before, and did not know when to stop pushing, and so he continued to provoke Schnither with his sarcasm and thinly veiled demeaning comments.

  “You know, Captain, historically Lord Abaddon has assigned me to lesser ranking demons than you. I tend to be despatched to sort out the messes created by those who don’t know better and aren’t really capable of efficiently executing their missions.” He paused to ensure that what he was implying was sinking in. “But I am sure that this is the exception to that rule…” Craven’s sinuous face wrinkled into a jeering smile, his thin yellow lips curling upwards cruelly.

  Schnither had had enough; he rose suddenly to his full imposing height and Craven realised too late that his captain was in fact a foreboding menace, even minus one arm and one ear. At over seven feet tall, Schnither towered a good foot above Craven, and was almost three times the skinny demon’s girth.

  “Uh, Captain, Sir. I…” Craven stammered but was not quick enough to find clever words to appease Schnither. The rest of the demonic troop had ceased their chatter and all eyes were now fixed on what was about to befall Craven.

  “I am the Captain of this troop,” Schnither hissed menacingly as Craven cowered beneath his wrath. “And you… you will respect that at all times. If you cannot do that, there will be consequences, and they will be severe. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes Sir, abundantly clear,” mumbled Craven, whose terror now threatened to give way to rage and indignation at this public humiliation.

  “What was that?” roared Schnither. “Speak up! We cannot hear you!”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. There will be no reoccurrence. You have my word.” Craven had no choice but to concur, but his pride had suffered a hefty blow and he silently vowed vengeance on this jumped up, self-important beast.

  “Ah, well if I have your word…” Schnither snarled at his subordinate with loathing in his red eyes. “But just to be sure…” And with that he raised his remaining arm and rained several punches down on Craven while the other demons cheered and clapped with euphoria.

  “Silence you buffoons!” Schnither’s roar sounded above the furore. “A commotion like that will alert all of nature and humanity to our presence! Be quiet!”

  Instantly, the pandemonium settled and there was a reverential hush across the assembled demons. This collective and unquestioned obedience pleased Schnither, and he proudly stood tall and puffed out his chest.

  “Now,” announced Schnither, with his ego suitably inflated, “Now we make our move. We will wreak havoc on that flight – we will cause terror before we bring destruction. We will prolong their anguish! But…” He paused for dramatic effect and was delighted to find every ghoulish wide eye focused on him. “But, the final severing of the fuel lines will be my privilege, and mine alone – anyone who even goes near it will pay with their lives! Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Captain Schnither!” The resounding reply was a deafening roar, and Schnither revelled in the control he had over the scraggly yet dangerous and unpredictable troop before him.

  “Good,” he said quietly, “Now, to battle!” And with that rallying cry, there was a frenzied flapping of wings as the demonic battalion took to the air en masse, bustling and clashing against each other in an egocentric effort to impress Captain Schnither, who flew ahead of the troop in the direction of Araco Airlines flight 454, which by now was a mere speck on the horizon.

  On the other side of the airport, Cosain and his angelic brothers materialised from behind a disused storage building. The seven warriors were an imposing sight, regal and fearsome, in full battle regalia, and with glowing swords at their sides. They watched as the tangled cloud of black wings and scaly bodies grew smaller with distance, knowing their destination.

  “It is time, brothers,” Cosain’s voice was earnest, his chiselled features sombre. “This will be a decisive battle, we cannot afford any error.”

  As one, the seven angelic warriors unfurled their wings of brilliant white and took to the skies in pursuit of the demonic horde. They would not let the Atoner down – and they would not let Phoebe Wren down. Her life depended on them.

  CHAPTER 38

  Unaware of what was transpiring in the stratosphere, Phoebe had flicked through the aeroplane TV channels and found a movie she thought might interest her. Her parents were still deep in conversation, and Demetrius had nodded off to sleep almost as soon as the plane had taken off. ‘Probably exhausted with all those difficult farewells,’ Phoebe thought sympathetically, and she smiled at her sleeping friend as she placed the headphones over her ears and adjusted the volume. Phoebe was tired too, and as she watched the movie her eyes grew heavy and within a few minutes she too had dozed off.

  Phoebe couldn’t tell how long she had been asleep when she woke abruptly from her nap. She had no idea what had wakened her, and looked round at Demetrius, who was still totally unconscious. Her parents had obviously finished their conversation, and Jack was scrolling through pages on his iPad while Eva looked utterly riveted by her novel. Phoebe realised that she had hunched up her shoulders again, and was sitting stiffly upright in her seat. She conscientiously relaxed her shoulders down again and leaned back into her seat. ‘It’s okay,’ she assured herself. ‘We’re en route and everything is okay.’

  THUD! Phoebe sat bold upright and peered out through the small round window beside her as the plane jolted. ‘What on earth? Not again?!’ She looked nervously at Demetrius and then her parents, and was surprised to find that neither they nor any other passengers for that matter appeared to have noticed anything untoward. Perhaps it was just a pocket of mild turbulence, nothing to worry about.

  THUD! BANG! No, that definitely wasn’t turbulence! Phoebe’s stomach lurched and she thought she might throw up. Her parents had stopped what they were doing and were looking at each other with concern written across their faces.

  “Phoebe, what’s going on?” Demetrius was just coming round from his slumber, and he rubbed his eyes and straightened in his seat as the next thump assailed the aeroplane.

  Phoebe did not have time to reply as the pilot’s voice sounded abruptly over the tannoy, “Passengers, please return to your seats immediately. Fasten your seatbelts securely, and adopt the brace position”. His voice was trying to sound calm and reassuring, but Phoebe had heard that tone before – and she knew that things had not ended well on that occasion. “We are experiencing some, uh, moderate turbulence,” the pilot continued, sounding more flustered and less professional than he should have, “Please stay calm everyone, this will pass.”

  “Who is he trying to convince?” Demetrius whispered to Phoebe as the teenagers brought their arms up across their faces and leaned forward into the brace position. He could see that the flight attendants had made a hurried check to ensure that all passengers were buckled in and had now taken their own seats and strapped themselves in, which, despite his lack of previous experience with flying, he did not think could be a good sign.

  BANG!! A woman screamed and a baby started to cry somewhere behind where Phoebe was seated as the plane shuddered violently this time and lurched sickeningly to one side.

  “Demetrius!” Phoebe gasped, grabbing his hand. “It’s happening! Where’s Cosain? Why aren’t they stopping this?”

  “They’ll be here, Bird, I know it.” Demetrius was ma
king a supreme effort to keep his voice level and calm, but Phoebe knew him well enough to know that he was anxious too. “Do you remember what Cosain told us to do at times like this?”

  “Yeah,” stammered Phoebe, her green eyes filling with tears of terror and disbelief. “We’ve gotta pray.” She looked again out through the cabin window but could see no sign of the demonic trouble makers she was sure were there.

  Demetrius squeezed her hand, and as the friends offered up their silent prayers they found that their fear began to diminish and in its place began to grow a peace that neither could explain.

  Outside in the stratosphere, as the demonic onslaught grew in intensity, Cosain’s sword began to glow a fiery red. “They have remembered, they are entreating the Atoner,” he whispered as he and the Heavenly Host raced towards the stricken aeroplane. “And with the Atoner’s help, we will overcome.”

  CHAPTER 39

  As Cosain, Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam, Croga and Lasair hurtled towards Araco Airlines flight 454, it quickly became very apparent to them that the aircraft was already in trouble. From a fair distance out, the angelic warriors could see the band of demons wreaking mischief on the plane, some banging and thumping on the exterior with their fists, others pushing one another into the sides or hanging off the wings and screeching with glee. The pulsating cloud of darkness almost consumed the aeroplane so that from the angels’ vantage point it looked like a giant swarm of maniacal bees, undulating and buzzing and entirely committed to the job at hand. Cosain could feel a righteous anger rising in his chest, and the imposing weapon at his side radiated a fiery crimson. He and his Heavenly brothers were almost at the beleaguered aircraft, and as yet their approach had been undetected as the demonic beings who were intent on causing as much chaos and confusion as possible.