Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light

by Julie K. Timlin

  “Phoebe, Schnither and his dark forces are intent on bringing this plane down again. We were favoured to have foreknowledge about their attack, and were able to mount a surprise counter attack, taking them unaware and routing all but a handful of them. Schnither fled with his life, as did Craven, Malva, Krake and a few other lesser demons. Transa, Gutbu, Naarli, Jitha and Gmobb were destroyed, and Braygor and Graygor did not make an appearance on this occasion – which is very peculiar.”

  Phoebe’s head was reeling with information and names. “Every time we encounter these fiends, I imagine that there could be no more,” she said with incredulity in her voice. “But then there are just more and more of them, from out of the blue. It’s crazy!”

  “For every demon you encounter or we slay, there are hundreds more waiting in the wings to take their place. You should never underestimate our Enemy,” said Cosain, his face grave. The Captain of the Host continued, “Phoebe, what I am telling you is that Abaddon the Defiler despatched some of his finest to take this plane down today. Many of those key players escaped and several others didn’t even show up – all of which suggested to me that they were hedging their bets, as it were. They have no intention of giving up so easily – they will regroup, formulate a plot, and hit hard. I fear this will not take long, we should expect them at any time. You saw Dilis and Solas carry Lasair away. He was badly wounded by Schnither – I am hopeful that he will survive if his brothers can get him quickly to the Rapha Fountain in the Celestial City, but I fear that Dilis and Solas will be unable to get back to us as quickly as I would have hoped, and Lasair will be out of action for a few days until his wound heals and he regains his strength.”

  Cosain paused, and Phoebe glanced back at Demetrius, who was looking questioningly from her to Cosain. He obviously could not hear the unspoken words of Cosain, but had gathered enough from Phoebe’s responses to figure out that things had not gone as well as they could have.

  “You must be very brave, Little One,” Cosain continued. “We are so very close now – but this will be the time when the Enemy will hit the hardest. We must be ready. Our numbers are depleted, but our resolve is stronger than ever.”

  Phoebe gulped, and wiped her sticky palms on her blue jeans. She quickly relayed what Cosain had just told her to Demetrius, who listened intently and gave away very little by way of a reaction. ‘Typical Dem,’ Phoebe thought. ‘As deep as the ocean, he just doesn’t do drama.’ She was thankful for Demetrius’s steady constancy; she had always been able to rely on him keeping a cool head even in the most turbulent of circumstances.

  Inside the cabin of the plane, an air of normality had been resumed, and passengers were chatting and even laughing nervously about what had just happened. Several had returned their attentions to their books or music, while others still looked uneasy, sitting rigidly upright in their seats with their seatbelts securely fastened. No-one on board could have envisioned the full extent of what the aeroplane had just endured. Schnither and his minions may have been beaten back, but it was a weakened aircraft that was now winging its way to Ireland.

  Phoebe considered Cosain’s words – ‘we should expect them at any time’ – and had to bite her lip to stop herself from weeping at the thought of what might lie ahead before she finally reached home.

  CHAPTER 41

  Dilis and Solas reached the Celestial City in record time. Rather than slowing them down, the burden they bore in Lasair spurred them forward, and the angels wasted no time in bringing him to the Rapha Fountain. The fountain’s crystal clear waters began to surge and bubble as the warriors approached, and a dappling of colours spread throughout the fountain until it resembled a liquid rainbow, sparkling and glinting in the bright suns of the Celestial City. Their arrival had been heralded by the Keeper of the Gate, and so the arriving warriors were immediately joined at the fountain by five more angelic beings, all equally impressive in stature and appearance as Dilis and Solas themselves.

  One of the angels, a beautiful creature with swarthy skin and close cropped dark brown hair, ran to take Lasair from Dilis and Solas.

  “Quickly Ernan, please help us!” called Dilis as he and Solas lifted Lasair on to the emerald walls of the Rapha Fountain.

  Ernan the Just gently but firmly caught Lasair at one side, and was joined by Maelis the Upright, an imposing looking angelic warrior with sharp green eyes and jet black hair pulled back in a long braid. Keane the Gracious, Cahir the Mighty and Lachlan the Warrior came alongside Ernan and Maelis, and together the mighty warriors tenderly lowered Lasair into the mystical waters of the fountain. Immediately, Lasair became submerged in colour, and the fountain bubbled and swelled over his limp body as blood from his wound mingled into the waters.

  “Hold his head brothers,” instructed Solas. “He is gravely wounded, I only pray we are not too late.”

  As the healing waters of the Rapha Fountain gurgled over and around Lasair, he was cosseted in the healing liquid’s soothing depths as resplendent colours shone through the emerald walls. The six angelic warriors stood silently, scarcely daring to breathe as they watched and hoped that their brother would rouse.

  Moments passed, although for Solas and Dilis and the others time seemed to stand still, and still Lasair did not stir. After a time, it was Keane who broke the silence and said what his comrades were thinking but dared not voice.

  “He has not responded to the healing waters of Rapha, his wounds were too severe. Lasair is…” he paused, his chestnut eyes pained, and lowered his head so that his curly hazel hair fell in rings around his broad shoulders. “Lasair is gone.” The words cut through the air like a blade, and Ernan and Maelis closed their eyes against the horror of that truth.

  “No! I will not believe it!” Dilis’s impassioned shout sounded above the gurgling and babbling of the fountain, and he reached forward and grabbed Lasair’s shoulders as if to pull him from the waters. Instead, Dilis began to move Lasair through the waters of the fountain, swishing him gently so that the healing liquid flowed back and forth over his battered body. Solas joined Dilis and together they continued in this apparently futile cause until Lachlan’s voice rang out.

  “Look!” he exclaimed, his voice resonating with growing elation. “He is stirring!” Lachlan’s Viking-esque features lit up with an ethereal light from within. He was the ‘rough diamond’ amongst his angelic brothers, with unruly hair and a rather unkempt beard and moustache, which seemed to take over his face, but his eyes were deep pools of compassion, sapphire blue in colour and with an irresistible twinkle that endeared him to all he met. “Yes, he is beginning to stir! There is colour returning to his cheeks – our brother is going to make it!” Lachlan, who was always impetuous and chomping at the bit, punched the air with his fist and gave a loud ‘whoop’, which, given the gravity of the situation, caused a slightly overwrought Solas to clench his jaw and bite his tongue.

  “I fear you are mistaken Lachlan,” Solas interjected, not entirely successful in disguising his irritation. “We were just too late, Lasair’s wounds were too…” He did not finish his sentence, because before the words would come, he felt a faint but undeniable twinge in Lasair’s arm muscles. Solas looked at Dilis who had evidently felt the movement too, as a grin had started to spread across his youthful features.

  “No,” said Dilis. “Lachlan is correct! Look – Solas, look!”

  As the small group looked on, Lasair began to stir. His pallid face gradually regained its colour, and strength started to creep throughout his body until eventually he opened his green eyes, blinked in surprise at the six Heavenly beings all peering down at him, and said, “Brothers, what’s going on? Why am I in the Rapha Fountain?”

  Laughter and joyous cheers erupted from Ernan, Maelis, Keane, Cahir and Lachlan, and Solas and Dilis were so overcome with happiness that they momentarily forgot they were supporting Lasair in the fountain, and let go of him to embrace each other, sending a discombobulated Lasair sliding under the crystal waters. He re-emerged sp
luttering and spitting water, and jokingly chided Solas and Dilis for dropping him. His comrades laughingly apologised and hugged their dripping wet angelic brother, before helping him to climb from the Rapha Fountain, whose waters had returned to their crystal clear state and ceased their frothing and bubbling.

  “Oh Lasair,” gasped Dilis. “We thought you were a goner! We thought Schnither had succeeded in putting a stop to your fight!”

  “Schnither?” Lasair seemed to recall little of what had happened, but slowly the remembrance of earlier events dawned on him and he looked down at his side where Schnither had thrust his serrated blade. “The little sneak hit me from behind, didn’t he? Ah, yes, it’s coming back to me. Well, I will have news for that despicable wretch!”

  “Lasair, you have been through much. This could have gone either way for you, you almost didn’t make it!” Ernan chided gently. “You will be avenged, but for now you must leave the battle to your brothers.”

  “What? No! I will return to Cosain, we must make sure that flight 454 gets safely to Ireland.” Lasair was on his feet in the fountain, water dripping from his great form, and his hand firmly on the handle of his sword, ready to return to battle.

  “Ernan is right, brother,” said Solas gently, but with a firmness that told Lasair resistance was futile. “You must stay here for a day or two. Rest and recuperate – then you can return and will be of much help to us. Schnither has not gone away, he is lurking somewhere, scheming his next move. We will need you on form when he strikes.”

  “I will stay with you, Lasair,” continued Ernan. “Your time in the Celestial City will not be wasted.” Lasair knew that Ernan was right and nodded his resigned agreement.

  “Brothers,” said Maelis. “Keane, Cahir, Lachlan and I will fly with you. I imagine that you could use some help given that your numbers have been depleted?”

  “Definitely. Thank you,” returned Solas. “Cosain expects an onslaught from the Enemy, we will be glad of all the extra swords we can get! Come, we must return to the others and flight 454 without further ado.”

  Solas turned to Lasair, and could see that the warrior was deeply disappointed not to be able to return with his troop. Solas smiled at Lasair and said, “Do not fret Lasair, you will be back where you belong in no time at all.” He pulled Lasair close to him, still overwhelmed by just how close he had been to death, then smiled at his angelic friend and nodded.

  And with that, Solas, Dilis, Maelis, Keane, Cahir and Lachlan spread their mighty wings and took to the sky en masse, a force to be reckoned with, quickly leaving the Celestial City far behind them as they flew back into the inevitable battle.

  CHAPTER 42

  For several hours, Araco Airlines flight 454 soared on unhindered, and the passengers inside settled back into their flight, falsely reassured that the ‘turbulence’ had passed, and they would soon be safely at their end destination. Astride the aeroplane, nine imposing angelic warriors stood, swords drawn, eyes trained on the horizon, prepared for battle. Cosain was certain that Schnither would not simply let Phoebe Wren just jet out of his clutches without a fight, and every muscle in his body was tensed, waiting expectantly.

  “Captain,” Croga’s voice was edgy. “Look – there on the horizon… It might be nothing at all, but I don’t think we should take any chances.”

  Cosain’s eyes scanned the horizon in the direction that Croga had pointed. Sure enough, several miles away, he caught sight of the unidentified blip that had put Croga on his guard. “I see it Croga, and I agree – we cannot afford to let down our guard. Trean, will you fly ahead with Neam and check that out?”

  Cosain pointed out towards the undisclosed anomaly just visible on the horizon. It may be nothing – just a rain cloud perhaps. Or it could be the battle of the angels’ lives.

  “Yes Captain,” replied Trean as he and Neam shot off the aeroplane and hurtled towards the blot on the skyline.

  “Brothers, be on your guard,” Cosain called to the remaining seven as he flexed his fingers along the handle of his formidable sword.

  Up ahead, Cosain could see that Trean and Neam were almost upon the odd formation, and as the aeroplane sped ever closer he could see that whatever – or whoever – it was had engaged the warriors who were lunging and blocking with all their might. He could see that whatever was ahead was more than Trean and Neam could deal with on their own, and wasted no time in giving the instruction.

  “Brothers!” Cosain yelled, “Now!” And before the command was fully spoken, seven mighty angelic warriors were airborne and hastening towards the mêlée. Cosain took the lead and within a minute he and his comrades were upon the small mass of what transpired to be diminutive demons, all screeching and howling and headed up by Braygor and Graygor. Solas, Dilis, Croga, Maelis, Keane, Cahir and Lachlan entered the furore, fiery swords thrashing and lunging. But Cosain held back. He had an uneasy feeling in his gut as he surveyed the scene – these tiny demons were no real threat to the Heavenly Host, even in substantial numbers, and in a split second it dawned on him that they were not in fact engaging in battle but were in instantaneous retreat. They were a decoy! Cosain reeled in horror as the realisation washed over him like a tidal wave – Schnither had anticipated the angels’ expectation of a ferocious battle and had lured them away, leaving Araco Airlines flight 454 unattended.

  In a heartbeat, Cosain had doubled back on himself and was shooting through the sky towards the aeroplane carrying Phoebe and her family, a gnawing sense of foreboding growing in his belly. Cosain yelled back over his shoulder at the angelic warriors who were in pursuit of the rogue demonic creatures, and waited just long enough to be sure that at least some of them had heard. As Maelis and Croga mustered together the others, Cosain knew that he had not a moment to waste, and as he headed along a collision course with the aircraft the gut wrenching sight of Schnither riding roughshod over the aeroplane met him.

  Craven, Malva, Krake and a myriad of other demonic beings had infested the aircraft and were crawling along its length so that the entire body of the plane seemed to writhe and pulsate. Cosain gasped and clenched his fist around his sword as he prepared for impact – this would not be pretty. Behind him, the loyal warriors were closing the gap between themselves and Araco Airlines flight 454. They could see their already Captain in the thick of battle, selflessly facing his foes and sending numerous snarling fiends tumbling and cart wheeling to the Abyss. What Cosain could not see from the middle of the fray was Schnither’s dismembered frame disappearing from within the demonic ranks and sliding towards the aeroplane’s undercarriage which housed the fuel lines. The seven approaching angelic warriors could see it all unfold from their vantage point – but were powerless to intervene. They flew with all their might, travelling so fast that they could not have been detected by even the most sophisticated radar equipment, and arrived with the aircraft just on time to witness Schnither sink his three rows of shark-like teeth and his razor sharp talons into the fuel lines, which lay exposed and vulnerable where he had ripped a section from the fuselage. As the aviation fuel flowed freely through the irreparable pipes, Schnither looked up from his dastardly mission and locked eyes with the angelic warriors. He snarled a leery smile at them, fuel flowing from his hacked lips like blood, then his warped grin turned into hoots and shrieks of delight as Araco Airlines flight 454 lurched forward with its nose earthward and began to fall from the sky with Schnither swinging from the fuselage like a deranged rodeo rider.

  This was a sight that several of the Heavenly Host had witnessed before, and as Cosain, Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam and Croga looked on in disbelieving horror, each felt that he was trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no waking.

  CHAPTER 43

  On board Araco Airlines flight 454, an unexpected and violent second bout of ‘turbulence’ caught passengers and cabin crew alike off guard. As the plane dipped into an earthward dive, flight attendants were knocked off their feet and tumbled and rolled towards the cockpit, screamin
g in terror despite their best intentions to remain calm and professional at all times. Those passengers who had loosed their seat belts were now flung forward against the seat in front of them, and there arose an instantaneous cacophony of voices wailing and screaming and begging for help that went unheard by all but those on board.

  Phoebe and Demetrius, Jack and Eva had been settled in their seats with their seatbelts securely fastened when the upheaval commenced, but even they found themselves lunging forward with the violent movement of the plane.

  “Passengers…”

  The pilot’s voice sounded relatively calm, but Phoebe could detect the rising panic he was trying so desperately to disguise.

  “Please remain calm. Return to your seats and fasten your seat belts immediately. We are experiencing some, uh, technical difficulties and, uh, may need to perform an emergency landing.”

  The words ‘emergency landing’ only served to send already terrified passengers into a frenzy, and far from remaining calm people were screaming and crying and searching for cell phones, presumably to make their final calls home.

  Outside the plane, Phoebe could now see the full ferocity of the battle that raged. Its beginnings had gone unnoticed and Phoebe could only assume that Schnither and his henchmen had somehow distracted Cosain and the Heavenly Host before stealthily launching this devastating attack. She could see Cosain, Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam and Croga battling valiantly against a multitude of black demons who were snarling and gnashing their teeth, and swinging their jagged swords with aplomb. Even in the midst of the chaos, Phoebe noticed Lasair’s absence, and momentarily wondered where he could be, although her thoughts returned very quickly to the upheaval inside the stricken aircraft. Phoebe noticed too that her angelic friends had been joined by several other angelic warriors, equally imposing and obviously entirely engaged in the fray, and their presence served to somehow comfort her and instilled an illogical hope, even in the midst of the horror unfolding around her.