The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  I try to make him see, but he doesn’t. “Of course she isn’t sorry. Don’t you see? She was just trying to save her son, and it worked…sort of.” He looks at the place where the string used to be tied around his wrist. Picking up his other hand, he rubs the spot, marveling at his freedom.

  “No. This isn’t right. Not at her expense.” He clings to me, as if begging me to make it right.

  “None of this is right,” I say, giving him a sad look. “Your mother tampered with the way of things. With fate. While she ‘saved’ you for a time, you had no life. You merely existed. That was not supposed to be your fate. Your fate was to thrive in your short time on Earth. What you’ve been doing since she trapped you here isn’t thriving. Frankly, she isn’t succeeding either. She’s actively destroying people.”

  “She was only trying to do what she thought was best for me.”

  I want to believe that, but in my heart, I know it isn’t true. She was doing what she wanted. What she thought she needed, with no regard for what was best for her son or anyone else. But I can’t say that to him.

  “Life on Earth is full of a gamut of experiences, Shiloh, full of both joy and sorrow. Instead of feeling her sorrow, she chose to keep it at bay at a very high cost. If she’d allowed the future to unfold as was intended, you would have passed quickly and with minimal suffering. Instead, she took others’ lives so you could linger here in pain. That’s no way to exist.”

  The next time he speaks, he’s filled with conviction. “I’d like to speak for her before she is punished.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible, but I’ll see what I can do,” I concede.

  When he’s finally ready, we walk hand in hand to the mists. He stands tall as his home on Earth disappears behind us, and he finally reaches for his fate with outstretched arms.

  The walk goes by in a blur. A part of me doesn’t want this one to be over. If he gets his wish, if he’s allowed to attend her trial, he’ll be confronted head-on with what his mother did to keep him on Earth. And no child should have to contend with that. If nothing else, it makes my anger for Mara boil that much harder.

  The gates of heaven appear, and a whole host of angels waits behind them, singing his name and welcoming him with open arms. It makes me smile that they pulled out all the stops for this little boy. He stops and watches them, and if it weren’t for the way he’s clinging to my hand, I’d think he was just taking it all in. But he’s scared to cross this threshold.

  “I can’t go back once I go in there, can I?” he asks, although he already knows the answer.

  “Shiloh, there was no going back long ago.”

  He takes a long, deep breath and lets me go. When he turns to face me, I don’t see a sickly boy or a thin soul. I see a vibrant young boy, ready to go home.

  Shiloh smiles at me, and it brings a rosy color to his cheeks.

  “Thank you, Michaela,” he says. Without warning, he throws his arms around me, and I fall flat on my butt from the force of it.

  We laugh in a heap at the gates of heaven, with the angels singing all around us. One of them comes through and offers Shiloh a hand up. He looks at me, and I nod. He nods back, sure of himself now, and takes the angel’s hand. I smile as I watch him disappear behind the gate, accompanied by his heavenly escort.

  An angel comes and stands beside me, watching the spectacle too.

  “He wants to be at the trial,” I say.

  “We know,” she answers. Even when speaking, her voice is musical. I want to smile, although I don’t know why.

  “Can he?”

  “No. It is too much to ask of a boy. No matter how old they are, a child should not have to watch the demise of their parent. And no matter what is decided today, one way or another, Mara will be facing her demise.”

  “Today?” I ask, turning to face the golden-haired angel beside me.

  “Now.”

  Twenty One

  Penn

  After the Guardians take Mara away, the three of us don’t really know what to do with ourselves. Not until someone emerges from the golden gate to greet us.

  It’s Miette again. She’s beaming from ear to year. Bounding over to us like a young deer, she throws her arms around my waist and squeezes with all her might.

  “You did it! You saved her.”

  She pulls back from her embrace and looks up at me, still bubbling over with joy. “Ryker wants to see you.” She adds it like some kind of aside. Like it means nothing.

  “What do you mean? Just me?”

  “He asked for the one dressed as a Keeper. I assume that’s you.”

  When I glance at my sister Fates, I see a reflection of the fear I feel in my own heart.

  “What?” She shrugs. “Don’t let Ryker intimidate you. He’s a big softie once you get to know him. Just stay on his good side and you’ll be fine.” She smiles up at me. When my expression doesn’t change, she reaches out and squeezes my arm, forcing me to look down at her.

  “I promise. After saving one of Ryker’s favorite Reapers, you’ll be on his good side for a long time.”

  I swallow hard, and she smiles at me. “Come on. He won’t bite, I swear.”

  But I’m not so sure. Why would he want to see me, and only me, unless he knows who I am? If he just wanted to say thank you, he’d have asked for all of us.

  I think back to the last time I saw him. It was in Michaela’s healing room after we got back from hell. Ryker came to see her. He spoke briefly to me, and I thought I caught a sparkle in his eye. He made some quip about Michaela’s curious friends. But he didn’t seem all that surprised that a Keeper was paying her a visit.

  It wasn’t enough to confirm or deny whether he knew my true identity.

  Miette leads the way through the gate and down the hallway to the Reapers’ wing. My sisters cling to my hands as we make our way to what feels like my end.

  When we reach Ryker’s door, Galenia and Horatia come to a stop just behind me. I turn to face them.

  “I love you both. Please tell Michaela…” I trail off. What message could truly explain how I feel? My gratitude. My love for her.

  “We will,” Galenia says with shining eyes.

  “Save Kismet and the others for me, will you? Tell them I’m sorry. Make sure they are taken care of.”

  “We will,” Horatia says, her voice thick with emotion.

  They throw their arms around me one last time, and with that, I’m left to face my fate.

  “Ah. Michaela’s dear friend. I was wondering when I’d be seeing you,” Ryker says as I come through the door with a bit of hesitation. He’s sitting behind a huge white desk, perfectly accented by the black cabinets to his left and black bookshelves to his right.

  He gestures to a white armchair in front of him. There’s a black velvet one next to it, and I wonder if Michaela has ever sat in one of these chairs. “Please, have a seat. I’ve sent Michaela to retrieve Shiloh. We have some matters to discuss while she’s gone.”

  I sink into the chair, but I try to avoid eye contact with the huge man across the desk from me. He doesn’t make it easy. But while his presence is naturally intimidating, I can tell he’s trying to set me at ease. Why? Is he leading me into a trap? I’m grateful to my hood, although I know it offers me little in the way of actual protection.

  “I’ve never spent so much time among the Fates before. I’m starting to like you folks,” he says with a smile on his face.

  Despite the fact that his smile isn’t sinister in any way, it doesn’t put me at ease. He’s confirmed it; he knows who I am. It’s over. My last shred of hope that he might have asked me here to thank me for saving Michaela is gone. A thousand thoughts run through my mind, and I wonder if this is what a human means when they say their life flashed before their eyes. I think of the time I spent on Earth with Andrew and Kismet, of Galenia and Horatia, my soul’s sisters, and of Michaela, whom I won’t get to see again.

  Ryker sits back in his chair and waves a hand at me.
“I’ve called you here for a reason, but it isn’t to doom you.”

  I relax, but only a little. Why? What’s his motivation? I shake myself a little. My time on Earth has made me think too much like a human. Malice isn’t something that flows as freely in the heavens as it does on Earth. Ryker isn’t out to get me. He’s a heavenly being, and a boss at that. If he wanted me gone, I’d already be vapor. He trusts Michaela, so he must trust me.

  Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable. The more people who know I’m here, the more danger I’m in. It will only take one soul with that information to destroy me.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull my hood away from my face, putting all my cards out on the table. He knows who I am, so there’s no sense in being uncomfortable.

  “Fine, Ryker. What do you want?” It comes out cold, which isn’t what I intended. I suppose I’m just steeling myself for whatever he’s going to say next.

  “Now, now. No need to be so defensive. I promise that I do not intend to harm you.” He leans forward in his chair. “Michaela has asked to help retrieve the remaining humans captured in the prison of souls. You will accompany her. Most likely after Mara’s trial is over. In the meantime, I’ve sent emissaries ahead of her to make sure the souls are safe and your path to them will be clear.”

  I let out a deep breath. They will be okay. They’ll be taken care of. No matter what.

  He reaches for something to his left, and I grip the sides of the armchair for dear life.

  It’s a roll of parchment with a gold seal on it.

  “I’ve been asked to give you this.”

  He holds it out to me, and I hesitantly accept it. The parchment is new and crisp. The seal has a hand on it. The hand of God. I swallow hard.

  “What is this?”

  Ryker smiles mischievously at me. “How should I know? Open it and see.”

  Throwing caution to the wind, I crack the seal and unfurl the scroll.

  The writing is perfect calligraphy, written in gold ink.

  This document hereby serves as a full and complete pardon to the former Fate and Spinner, Penn.

  There’s a personal note down below, written in a rather messy hand.

  Penn,

  I owe you my eternal thanks. You have made me proud. Do whatever you wish with your pardon. You may choose to stay here among the heavens, or perhaps you would rather return to Earth. Opportunities will present themselves soon. Choose however you wish. But above all, choose happiness.

  —G

  “I…” I’m speechless. I’m pardoned. Safe. My anxieties have suddenly been lifted off my shoulders—a one-hundred-pound weight I didn’t realize I was bearing. I sit up straighter, smile broader, and take a deep, cleansing breath.

  “Not so fast, my friend. Your work here still isn’t finished. Michaela tells me those souls are still stuck in hell. You can’t just abandon them to go flitting off through the fields of Earth like some country bumpkin.” He says it with a glint in his eye, and I know he’s teasing me.

  “I have no intention of abandoning them.”

  He leans back in his chair and smiles. “Yes, indeed. You Fates aren’t half bad at all.”

  Reaching across the desk, he extends an arm to me, and we shake hands in a brotherly fashion. “Thank you for returning her to us.” His voice is low and full of gratitude. It seems I owe him a fair amount of thanks as well, but he doesn’t allow me to speak again.

  “Now, we have a trial to get to.”

  We are seated in a U-shaped room with auditorium-style seating that climbs several stories high. We Fates are seated high up, near the left tip of the U. The walls and floor are white, but the seats are a beautiful golden color, lined with plush cushions to keep us comfortable while we wait.

  Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the workday, it seems as though everything has come to a halt for this moment. As I look out across the rows and rows of seats, it seems as if all the heavens, and some of hell, have come to see this human and what will become of her. I don’t see many empty seats, that’s for sure. The one I have saved for Michaela is one of the last empties in the room.

  There are several different kinds of demons pacing around the floor below us, waiting for Mara to be brought in. I’m not sure what they all are. Michaela would have been able to identify them. For about the hundredth time, I find myself searching for her amidst the seated Reapers. I wonder how she did with Shiloh, and if she’s doing okay. I know this will be a bittersweet reaping for her.

  Suddenly, the door at the base of the U bursts open, revealing Michaela. She’s out of breath, much as she was when she came rushing into the weaving room just a short time ago to tell me about the prison of souls. So much has happened since then.

  I whistle at Michaela as she scans the seats. She spots me and waves. But then she spies the other Reapers, Ryker among them, and a dilemma plays out on her face when her boss waves her over. The head Reaper saves her. He motions for her to sit with us and nods, clearly assuring her it’s all right. She smiles and waves gratefully at him before making her way toward us.

  She’s still out of breath when she plops down next to me. Horatia and Galenia smile and wave at her from their seats opposite me. Michaela leans over and says, “Shiloh wanted to come. To speak for her.”

  “What? Are they going to let him?” I ask, keeping my eyes up front.

  “No.” It’s a simple word, but I can tell she’s of two minds about their decision.

  My eyes are focused at the back of the room, so it takes me by surprise when a door opens in the middle of the top of the U-shaped room. God comes out, and a low roar spreads throughout the room. I turn away from the back of the room just in time to see Him take a seat behind a gold desk atop a white platform that runs the length of the top of the U.

  “I didn’t know there was a door back there, did you?” I ask, bewildered.

  “Nope. I’ve never been in this room before,” Michaela answers as she takes another quick look around. The room really is a spectacle to behold.

  God clears his throat, and the murmuring ceases abruptly. “Thank you all for coming. Bring in the accused.” He says it while looking down at some papers. His glasses are perched at the end of His nose, and He’s dressed in a white suit with a gold tie.

  My sentencing was different, that’s for sure. He was basically dressed in jeans and a shirt for that. There wasn’t this fancy gold seating either. But this is so much more serious than the trial of some lovesick Fate. Mara might be one human, but she’s left a trail of pain and broken people behind her.

  With a rush of air, the doors at the back of the room open, admitting two huge demons. They’re pitch black, with horns that curve down toward their mouths. Their red eyes scan the room as they tightly grip huge sledgehammers.

  “Hunters. I wonder why they’re here,” Michaela whispers.

  “You fought one of those in hell?” I ask in shock. “They’re huge!” The enormous demons are locking eyes with the people in the first row of balcony seating. Suddenly, I’m glad we’re in the top tier.

  “Yes. Shush,” she says as she watches the scene intently, craning to see behind the Hunters.

  A small human follows a few paces behind them. Her. She’s draped in flaming chains that clang as she walks. Her hands are completely covered with solid black iron cuffs, leaving no room for a swish of the hand or a flick of the finger.

  She doesn’t seem to be in any pain from the flames that are roaring all around her. Rather, she follows the Hunters with a stiff back and her chin held high.

  I recognize the demons behind her as Guardians. Six of them. They know what they’re dealing with here and aren’t taking any chances. I can’t help but wonder what she did during her short tenure in hell to make them change their tune about her. The Guardian we left her with seemed so confident.

  They file down the center of the room, and the silent, heavy air fills with the fiery crackle of Mara’s chains and the percussive thump of the demon
’s footsteps. I feel like the entire room is holding its breath as they make their way toward God.

  Once they reach the base of the platform, the two Hunters part, and Mara steps forward. The six Guardians form a rectangular barrier around her, with the Hunters at the head of it.

  In the silence, I hear a whisper that turns to a song. My blood goes cold, and I stand up like a shot. “She’s at it again. She’s going to attack Him!”

  My voice echoes in the large room, and almost everyone turns to look at me. Even the huge demons.

  Michaela pulls on my arm, urging me to sit back down. “Trust Him. It will be okay.”

  But I can’t bring myself to sit. I stand there, watching as her song creates a blue sliver of fog that snakes around the demons. Slowly, people follow my pointing finger and turn back toward the human. I can’t begin to understand what she’s trying to accomplish. Maybe she just doesn’t want to go down without a fight.

  The long, blue shape snakes around the Hunters, but instead of panicking, they smile at each other. Just as it’s making its way around their hammers, they bring them down hard, making a thunderous sound that echoes throughout the huge room.

  On instinct, I sit back down in my chair, mouth open, waiting to see what will happen next.

  The two Hunters turn to Mara and laugh. “Anything else?”

  Mara says nothing, but I swear I can see her standing a little straighter. There’s an unmistakable air of defiance about her.

  The edges of God’s face are drawn down by the weight of what she’s done, what she continues to do, as He watches her.

  “So, Mara. You choose to fight, even now.” It’s not a question, and I think I hear her scoff at Him. I didn’t make her that bold when I spun her. Once again, I find myself wondering how she strayed so far. I frown down at her and can’t help but shake my head.

  “Of course I continue to fight. I will always fight against You. You’ve taken everything from me.”