The Angel

by Blaire Hammond

  Laura began to worry that the God wouldn’t give her the Ruby. She had nothing to trade, and she had absolutely no clue as to what she planned on saying. How would she talk to the God whom she had never met? What would she say? She didn’t have a great interaction history with Gods… She sighed, pushing the thoughts from her mind and focusing on smashing her way through the bush, cutting down branches and bushes with her sword to make a path for herself.

  After much walking, she heard the tell-tale sound of rushing water and quickened her pace. Giddy excitement hit her as she speculated about what the place looked like after so many years since her last visit.

  Finally, she broke through the tree line, emerging into a small clearing. The ground was mossy underfoot and the sky was bright blue as the sun began to rise. There it was, the waterfall reaching so high up into the air that it looked as though the ground really did meet the sky. The little river rushed past, the rocky shore wet with splashes from the water.

  Laura stepped further into the clearing, feeling the cool air around her, then she started towards the waterfall. She bent by the river, reaching out a hand and running her fingers through the water, remembering how she had played in it as a child, how her mother would sit in the grass and read and her father would try to climb the rock face to her left beside where the waterfall was. He could never quite do it, though.

  Laura smiled a little to herself, enjoying the memory as it washed over her. Until suddenly, there was something prowling through the water towards her smaller self in her mind. Something dark and growling. Something readying to pounce for Laura.

  Little Laura screamed and then her mother was there, a knife from the picnic kit in hand. Laura was plucked from the water by her father, but she saw her mother slash at the animal. An animal that, Laura had come to understand, was probably a Wicked animal.

  The memory faded and Laura pulled her hand back from the water, the cold sending goose bumps down her skin. So that was why they’d stopped coming. Her parents had spent their lifetime shielding her, concealing the Spirit World from her so she could grow up normal. Laura knew her parents had only wanted to protect her – had only hoped to keep her safe, but Laura wondered if knowing the truth would have changed anything. Maybe she would have known what was happening to her mother that day when she’d been taken and she would have found her sooner? Maybe she would have been able to use her gift to save her father?

  It hurt her to think of that – to realise that sitting there through his death, she could have saved him all along if only she had have known about her gift. But deep down, she recognised the fact that she didn’t blame her parents. She understood why they’d done it, and she knew she probably would have done the same thing had the roles been reversed.

  Laura pulled her backpack from her shoulders and stood, turning to face the waterfall. No more thinking of the past. There was a future to look towards, and if she wanted it to be a good one, then she had to find the Ruby.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she began to speak. ‘I call to you, the God Addissary. I know this is where you hide. I am Laura Harmer – you helped my mother, Cara Harmer, once. I have come to thank you for what you did for her, and for me.’

  The morning was still, besides the chirping of birds and crashing of water. Laura could hear something in the distance. A cackle, a deep, dark laugh that seemed to be coming from the water itself.

  Then, an explosion – water shot up from the river, and Laura was drenched by it.

  ‘Oh, young one. If only I believed you. I think you are here for much more than to simply gift me with your thanks,’ a high pitched voice said.

  Laura wiped the water from her face, already feeling that familiar frustration setting in. Why were all the Gods so infuriating?

  Laura peered up to see a woman floating in front of the waterfall. She looked to be permanently wet, her dark hair hanging from her head in limp waves, her clothes dripping as they flowed about her, her eyelashes wet, droplets falling from them with each blink. Her skin was dark, her face smooth and young, and she looked rather short, almost like a teenager herself. How old was the God?

  ‘I see you judging me. We can look however we please, thank you very much.’

  Laura bit her lip, feeling guilty. She was never very good at masking her thoughts.

  ‘So, child. What have you come here for? Why did you call to me?’

  Laura crossed her arms. No point glossing it over. May as well get to the point of the visit.

  ‘I’ve come to ask for you to return the Westmill Ruby to me,’ Laura said.

  ~

  Stella paced the length of the bedroom, as she often did in times of stress. They’d cleared up as best they could after the Goblin attack, and had bid Laura goodbye, but after Stella had had the chance to change her battle gear, she again found herself unable to wipe the worry from her mind.

  Laura had changed a great deal in her time with the Casters. Stella could see that, and recognised the fact that she could very well protect herself. But it had been a long road to finding her students again, and she hated having to say goodbye so soon.

  Laura had promised a swift return, but anything could happen. The God could become angry and hurt her, she could be attacked by the Wicked, someone could shoot her down from the sky…

  ‘Stel, come on. We’ll go eat something then meet with the leaders. We have some plans to go over in bringing all the Casters back in,’ Leo suggested, reaching for her and putting an arm around her, nudging her towards the door.

  Stella let her arms fall to her sides and gave in, knowing Leo was only trying to distract her. Nevertheless, there was no way the worry in the pit of her stomach would ever leave her until Laura returned. Until the war was over.

  Stella flexed her fingers, feeling a dull ache but knowing she was much better. Getting back out onto the battle field had been a gigantic step for her. She had recovered a great deal since everything that had happened, and with the return of her finger, thanks to Megan, she was back to the warrior she had once been. Even so, seeing the fight in front of her had been huge – and frightening. She hadn’t realised how extreme it would be; how brutal, gruesome and saddening it would be.

  There had been a number of casualties on their side, and there were still some down in the hospital being operated on. Stella and Leo had worked hard to move as many injured into the hospital as fast as possible to ensure they didn’t lose them, too. Many Casters were working on healing the worst of the injuries, but there were only so many of them – and only so much power they could wield before they were drained.

  Stella was beginning to feel the effects of the night. Her body ached all over. She was still recovering, after all. She was good at ignoring pain, however, and so pushed it from her mind, following alongside her husband as they left the hotel and started down the street. Enchanted, Mariadies and Creatures rushed back and forth from buildings, most likely preparing to take the places of the Casters that were being brought back to the base.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ Leo said to her as they crossed the street to the opposite sidewalk.

  ‘Me either,’ Stella responded with a sad shake of her head. ‘It’s awful.’

  ‘Even back when I was a Guardian it was never this bad.’

  Stella saw his grim face, and took his hand.

  ‘How are you feeling after last night?’ He asked her, rubbing her hand.

  ‘Good. A little sore, but it’s not enough to stop me.’

  ‘Well let me know the minute it becomes too much. You still need your rest,’ Leo insisted.

  Stella squeezed his hand. ‘I can’t afford to rest. You know that. There is too much to do.’

  ‘I know, but your survival is as important as anyone else’s.’

  Stella felt him stiffen a little at those words, and she knew he was thinking of his father. They hadn’t discussed what had happened since Leo had told her of his father’s sacrifice and the truth he’d learned about his mother. St
ella knew he didn’t think it was the time or that he was worth worrying about, but she also knew he had to talk about it. There was too much feeling within not to.

  ‘Your survival is just as important,’ Stella told him kindly.

  He looked to her, playing dumb. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Leo, you tell me I have to take the time to rest despite all that’s going on. You have to take the time to as well. I may be hurting physically, but you’re hurting emotionally. It’s just as important.’

  Leo’s eyes flickered away, and Stella pulled him up short, turning him around to face her. He didn’t step away or attempt to continue walking, so she pressed onwards.

  ‘How are you?’ She asked.

  He met her gaze, and she could see the tears building in his eyes. He blinked them away quickly, reaching up to push his glasses back into place.

  ‘I guess I just wish I knew earlier. I know my father was a jerk. I doubt we ever would have had a relationship. But if I had have known the truth, then maybe… I don’t know, maybe there would have been a chance.’

  He stepped back, looking out at the street and the rushing of Witches and Wizards back and forth.

  ‘Maybe if he hadn’t have died, there could have even been a chance of… something,’ Leo threw his hands up in frustration. ‘But he had to go and give up his life for us. And now I’ll never know. And I kind of have to think of him as this saint when he never was one, truthfully.’

  Stella allowed him the chance to talk, letting him work through his feelings.

  ‘I just hate that I can’t justify hating him anymore. That this man who was nothing but cruel to me, was actually trying to protect me, and died defending me.’

  ‘It’s okay to still hate him. He did a good thing in sacrificing himself for us, and I will always be grateful to him for that, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he didn’t treat you well. It’s okay to hate him, and maybe one day you’ll wake up and realise you simply don’t anymore, that you can let go of that hatred and move on. Or, maybe you won’t ever forgive him. But I don’t think it’s something you should feel angry at yourself for,’ Stella told him when he fell quiet.

  Leo thought on that for a moment, reaching up to readjust his glasses again. Then he turned to her, granting her a half smile, though there was still a tension behind it. His feelings wouldn’t disappear just like that, there was going to be much time and healing involved, but she could see he understood what she was telling him, and appreciated it.

  ‘Okay, come on,’ he said after a moment, reaching for her.

  She took his hand, and together, they kept walking, leaving the pain in the past for the time being.

  ~

  Creshan peered out into the hall, first left then right, checking that it remained empty. Once sure that the coast was clear, he was careful to close the door quietly before turning back to the Wicked in the lab.

  ‘You’re the one who has been writing these?’ One of the Witches asked, lifting up a flyer, his flyer, and waving it at him.

  Creshan looked at the paper; read the words written on it.

  The only ones with our best interest at heart, are ourselves.

  It was one of the many slogans he’d come up with, sifting them throughout the Wicked, planting his seeds. He’d known he was on the wrong side for a long while, and it was quickly becoming apparent that there were Wicked starting to recognise it as well. Some of those Wicked were converted Enchanted, sure, but some weren’t.

  They saw the way Erebus spoke to them, treated them, and punished them. They saw how he cowered underground, leaving them to do the dirty work, allowing them to fight and die, while he sat at his desk, not even pretending to care. They saw the way he used them, promising them a better life all the while beating them should they step one foot out of line.

  The Wicked were not stupid. They were not blind. Creshan had been brought up to believe both, but since being converted, he’d come to see the truth; come to realise that all the Wicked ever wanted was a home. They’d been misunderstood; classed as one thing thanks to the taint of Erebus who shared the same lightning as them. They were only evil because they were forced to be; they were only bad because the Enchanted came after them, fighting them; they only stole and hurt others because they had nothing, and therefore had to in order to live. That was why they were so poorly trained, that was why they appeared stupid; because they had nothing, they came from nothing.

  All through time, they had wanted to be viewed as equals, and finally Erebus was offering them that. Only they’d begun to realise that maybe he wasn’t really offering them a better life after all. He was taking advantage of their desperate situation and using it against them.

  Creshan knew that, and he also knew that with the right help, he really could grant the Wicked a better life. With the right guidance, he could give them what they deserved. But the first step in doing that was showing the Enchanted that the Wicked weren’t evil. That they’d been forced to fight in a war that they thought was necessary.

  Creshan knew that his plan was farfetched, but it was the only way to prove to the Enchanted that the Wicked weren’t who they thought them to be. And hopefully, if he could do that, then once the war was over, the Wicked would be allowed the opportunities they’d always been denied.

  So, Creshan told the Wicked sitting before him in the lab his plan. They’d come to see the face of the leaflets; come to find out if he could help. Creshan knew it would be only the beginning; that he would need their help to spread the word to the other Wicked and convince whoever they could that it was time to switch sides.

  But it was something he had to do. If Erebus really took over the world, they would not have a great life. The World would become a hell, and that was never what the Wicked wanted. They simply wanted peace for their people. So Creshan would help them fight for just that – the right way.

  Some would stay loyal to Erebus. That was a given. For some were perhaps evil, just as some Enchanted were deep down as well. But no matter the cost, Creshan understood his destiny. He knew what he’d been placed on Elixir to do. To save the Wicked and the Enchanted.

  ~

  The God Addissary’s face contorted as she raised both her brows in wonder and surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that, though what she had been expecting, Laura wasn’t sure.

  ‘Interesting,’ she murmured, her face growing impassive. ‘And why should I give you the Westmill Ruby?’

  Laura shrugged. ‘Because I need it.’

  ‘Right. Yes. Of course.’

  The God laughed to herself, and in the air in front of Laura, a large walnut sized ruby appeared.

  ‘Take it! Here, it’s yours,’ the God exclaimed, her voice shrill with humour.

  Laura eyed her sceptically, knowing there was no way it could be so easy, but she reached out for the ruby regardless. Her hand closed around it, but before she could take it, it disappeared from between her fingers.

  The God laughed hysterically, performing a number of interesting and highly irritating summersaults in the air.

  ‘Tut, tut. You should know better, child. Nothing comes without a price,’ Addissary told her, a grin still on her lips.

  Laura dropped her still outstretched hand and bit back a sigh.

  ‘What do you want in return? I have nothing of value to give you,’ Laura asked, exasperated.

  ‘Oh, but to the contrary, you do,’ Addissary responded in kind.

  Laura crossed her arms. ‘What could I possibly have that you would want? I’m not trading away my soul.’

  ‘No, no. I should never ask for that, though the soul of a Caster would be a rather nice addition to my collection. But alas, I see the role you play in your story. I cannot alter history in such a way. My own people would be in danger if I did, and I’m already on the outs because of my last little charade.’

  ‘What happened?’ Laura asked quickly, interest piqued.

  The God’s eyes blazed a bright orange and her face chan
ged to one of stowed darkness. ‘That is not for you to know.’

  Laura threw up her hands in defence. ‘Sure, fine whatever. You don’t need to get all fiery on me.’

  The flames disappeared from her eyes and her face returned to its usual calm.

  ‘Okay, so what is it that I have that you want?’ Laura asked.

  ‘Answers,’ the God responded promptly.

  Laura frowned. ‘Answers?’

  ‘Indeed. Did I not speak clearly enough?’ Addissary replied, mocking her. ‘Answers.’

  ‘All right…’ Laura agreed. ‘Answers it is. What answers do you require?’

  ‘Three questions of any kind. A right answer that comes from the heart for each. You give me the truth, and I give you the Westmill Ruby.’

  Laura wondered if it was a trick. Surely it couldn’t be so simple. Though, she’d said that last time and she’d been proven correct. It wasn’t so simple. There was something more to it. There always was.

  ‘Okay. You have a deal,’ Laura said at length. ‘Three truthful answers for the Ruby.’

  ‘Truthful and correct,’ Addissary amended.

  Laura hesitated, then nodded. ‘Truthful and correct.’

  The God clapped excitedly, performing three flawless summersaults in the air. ‘Perfect!’

  Laura felt an uneasiness creep into her gut, but she swallowed, stood taller, and peered up at the God.

  ‘She who lives under the sea can see, can touch, can hear, can taste and can smell. But still, blackness. Who might she be?’

  Laura stared in confusion, her mouth agape. A riddle. Of course it was a riddle. She had to find the correct answer. But Laura remembered, correct and truthful. What did that mean? Wasn’t the correct answer already truthful? Wasn’t a truthful answer already correct?

  Laura looked up at Addissary, who was grinning at her, awaiting her answer.

  Laura turned away. She who lived under the sea… what did that mean? Lived under the sea, had all their senses… but blackness? It didn’t make sense. Was it a living person? Human or otherwise? Another God? A creature?