Fire Prophet (Son of Angels)

by Jerel Law

  Jonah’s mind was moving so fast he could barely process it all. That seemed like a dangerous assignment, even for an angel of Camilla’s standing. “Don’t you think that’s a lot for just one angel, Mrs. Aldridge?”

  But she was already almost to the stairwell. She didn’t take the time to turn around, only waved a hand in the air, dismissing his comment with a flick of her wrist.

  “Listen, Jeremiah,” he said as they entered the darkened second-floor hallway. “You have to promise me to be careful, and not to do anything stupid. You don’t have any defensive powers yet, so stay behind me and let me handle the fighting, okay?”

  Jeremiah was already looking down the hallway in each direction, trying to spot a fallen angel. He didn’t respond.

  Jonah grabbed him by the shoulder, with more force than he intended. “Did you hear me?”

  Jeremiah snapped his head back toward Jonah. “All right, let go! I promise, I won’t do anything dumb.”

  “Okay, let’s pray,” Jonah said. “We can’t see the Fallen unless we are in the hidden realm.”

  They both prayed quietly and slipped into the hidden realm. Jonah drew an arrow and strung it on the bow that had appeared in his hand.

  They walked down the hallway slowly, back to back. There was a window on each end of the hallway, and they both kept their eyes on those. But as they walked along, Jonah pushed open each door they came to and did a quick search of the nuns’ rooms.

  Jonah felt a few drops of nervous sweat roll down his forehead. But he tried to ignore them, and kept his arrow aimed and ready.

  It wasn’t long until they had covered almost all the hallway. Every room had been searched except for the last two, and so far, there was no sign of a fallen angel.

  “I hope Eliza and Rupert are doing okay,” whispered Jeremiah.

  “Yeah,” Jonah said, turning to look at his brother. “I just hope Rupert isn’t curled up in a corner somewhere, covering his eyes.”

  Jeremiah covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and Jonah smiled.

  They kicked another door open, Jonah searching the room as quickly as he could while Jeremiah kept watch. The room was sparse and neat, except for the bedsheets that had been thrown onto the floor in haste. These rooms belonged to nuns, and not messy kids, after all. A quick peek at the window and under both beds told Jonah that this room was safe.

  When he emerged from the room, Jonah saw Jeremiah standing as still as if he were frozen to the ground. His face was white, and his lips were pressed together firmly. He held a finger up to Jonah and pointed to his ear.

  Listen.

  Jonah stood quietly beside his brother. In the room across the hallway, the last one left to search, they heard the faintest sound. A creak, and then silence. Another creak. It stopped again.

  Footsteps.

  Jonah swallowed hard, pulling his arrow back a little farther. Breathing in deeply, he raised his foot off the ground and kicked in the door.

  Two creatures stood in front of him, their crusty bodies hunched over. Their yellow eyes grew large with surprise. Their mouths gaped open, showing their sharp teeth, and they howled as they reached for their arrows.

  But before they could retrieve their weapons, Jonah let his arrow fly.

  Thud!

  He strung another one quickly and shot the other creature in the chest.

  The fallen angels screeched in agony, so that the boys threw their hands over their ears. The creatures writhed on the floor for a couple of seconds before they turned into black dust and seeped down into the cracks of the wooden floor.

  Jeremiah stepped around the dust and walked over to the window. He slammed it shut, snapping the lock in place.

  “Nice shot, Jonah!” Jeremiah said, holding out his hand for a high five. Jonah slapped Jeremiah’s hand hard, breathing in heavily.

  He stepped back into the hallway just in time for a flaming arrow to whiz under his nose, missing him by mere centimeters. As he snapped his head back, another arrow sailed by, just as close, nearly hitting his shoulder before slamming into the doorjamb and disintegrating.

  “Jeremiah!” Jonah yelled. “Get back in!”

  He pushed his brother back into the room and slammed the door without thinking. But now he was left alone in the dark hall.

  Ducking his head low, he ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the arrows. Another one zoomed over his head, barely missing him.

  He had no plan, and he knew there wasn’t a stairwell on this end of the hallway to use as an escape. He pushed open another door and quickly entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Think, Jonah! He knew they would be coming as fast as they could. And what if they caught Jeremiah in the other room? If they were going to survive, he had better do something and do it now. But the only thing he could think about was his defenseless brother in a room all by himself.

  He braced himself and burst back through the door, ready to fire. But no more than five feet away stood a huge fallen angel, leveling his own arrow squarely at Jonah’s chest.

  Jonah met the glowing yellow eyes with his own. They suddenly narrowed, and he knew that this creature didn’t care whether he got shot or not.

  “Jonah?”

  The Fallen heard the voice from down the hall and took his eyes off Jonah for a split second. It was all the time Jonah needed.

  His arrow pierced the fallen one through the neck. He fell to the ground, turned to black ash, and disappeared.

  “Well, I can’t hit a bull’s-eye very well, but I can hit these guys,” he muttered to himself.

  Jeremiah had peeked into the hallway to check on his brother and now came running toward him.

  “Thanks, Jeremiah,” Jonah said, smiling.

  “I was worried about you out here,” he said. “What just happened?”

  “You gave me just enough time to get rid of a nasty bad guy.”

  Jonah reached out his hand and pulled his brother toward him, hugging his head in the crook of his arm.

  NINETEEN

  THE PRAYER BARRIER

  They continued to patrol the hallway, walking back and forth slowly, checking and rechecking the rooms, shutting all of the windows, and placing furniture over the vents, thinking this might at least slow the Fallen down if they tried that route. Jonah glanced out the window every few minutes. Each time he could see more fallen angels swarming around on the ground.

  There was no sign of friendly angels anywhere outside. Jonah wondered where they were. Why hadn’t reinforcements been sent? What had happened to the defenses that were supposed to be so strong that nothing could penetrate them? How did the Fallen even know where they were?

  Was it possible that Abaddon or one of his agents had gotten to one of the nuns in the convent? Or one of the nephilim who knew their location?

  “Boys,” Camilla called from the end of the hallway. “Come with me. Now.”

  Jonah relayed their encounters with the Fallen.

  “Nice work, gentlemen,” said their commanding angel. “You are both to be commended for your bravery. I had quite a scuffle upstairs myself.” She brushed some dust off her sleeve. “But it’s taken care of, at least for the moment.”

  “Where are we going?” Jonah asked as they stood with her in the darkness. “I thought you wanted us to guard the second floor.”

  She motioned to them to come back down the stairs with her. “It appears as though we have withstood the first series of attacks. Your friends and sister also fought off the Fallen with much courage. They cannot get through, thanks to the efforts of the prayer group. I have no doubt that there will be another attack. But for now, we need to go see the others.”

  Jonah and Jeremiah obediently followed her down the steps and into the small prayer room. A table that used to be in the center of the room had been moved aside, and the nuns, Kareem, and the four students he had selected knelt in a circle. They were murmuring softly with their eyes closed, each of them pleading with Elo
him in his or her own way for His protection of the convent.

  Jonah was impressed with how intense their prayers were, but what was really cool was what it looked like as he viewed it in the hidden realm. White, glowing tendrils of light rose upward from each member of the circle. Some had three or four ropes of this light extending from their chests; a few had more. Kareem and Sister Patricia must have had dozens between them.

  The fingers of light stretched just above their heads and then did something that caused Jonah to look closely. They touched one another, intertwining to form a beautiful, brilliant circle above their heads and extending through the ceiling above. It seemed that once the individual tendrils connected together, they glowed much brighter than when they were alone. Their combined efforts produced something powerful and captivating.

  Eliza and the others who had been patrolling had joined them too, standing alongside Jonah and Jeremiah. They looked just as awestruck as Jonah felt.

  “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective,” Camilla said, smiling. Jonah had heard that passage of the Bible before.

  “I never thought of it like this,” he admitted.

  Camilla nodded. “The united prayer of believers is a powerful force in the hidden realm. It is much more powerful than humans realize. One person can cause tremendous change in the course of certain events. And a group of people united together for a common cause . . .” She spoke in awe of its power. It struck Jonah that she spoke of prayer the way he often found himself speaking of angelic powers. An angel, amazed by something a human could do?

  “Their prayers for protection are forming a barrier around this convent. We withstood the first run from the Fallen not only because of your fighting abilities but also because of their prayers. A few of the fallen ones got through, but we have taken care of those.”

  Jonah looked at the light disappearing into the ceiling. Something caught his eye through a small window to his left. He moved over until he could see the dark street outside.

  Now, in the hidden realm, he could see it—a faint glow of light, surrounding the building like a dome of protection! The prayers of this small group of people were protecting the entire building with some kind of power, straight from the hand of Elohim.

  “You’ve got to see this, guys,” Jonah said, bringing the others to the window too. They stood in wonder at the glow and the shelter it provided.

  “That’s all from people’s prayers?” said Jeremiah, amazement filling his voice. “So cool!”

  Eliza pointed at something across the street. “Look! One of the Fallen!”

  Jonah, out of habit, began to pull an arrow from behind his shoulder and string it. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

  “Hold on, Jonah,” said Camilla. “Watch this.”

  The fallen angel was standing on the outside of the prayer barrier, examining it closely. He spat at it in disgust, then turned back as if to say something. It became apparent that there were fallen ones lurking in the shadows just behind him. He’d been sent out to test the strength of the barrier, and he was being egged on by his companions.

  The fallen angel took a few steps back, and then ran as fast as he could, headlong into the glowing barricade. For just a second, Jonah thought he had made it through. His body pressed into the wall, but then he rebounded. Almost as if the wall were a rubber band that had been stretched too thin, he bounced back suddenly, and fast. The other fallen angels stepped out of the way, protecting themselves, and he disintegrated into dust as he hit the wall of a neighboring building.

  Jonah glanced back at the prayer circle. They didn’t waver, didn’t stop, and seemed as if they were unaware of what was happening outside.

  Rupert, who had been watching the whole time with the look of a kid who’d just been punched in the stomach, spoke up. “What do you expect us to do? Pray here for the rest of our lives? Isn’t there some kind of plan to get us out of here?”

  As irritating as Rupert could be, Jonah had to admit that he had the same question.

  “I am working with Marcus and Taryn on a plan, and will be in touch with my commander,” said Camilla. “In the meantime, you are all under the command of Reverend Kareem. He will organize and direct the prayer barrier. Do whatever he asks of you.”

  She rushed out of the room, calling down the hallway for Marcus and Taryn. The kids all quickly exited the hidden realm.

  “She didn’t even answer the question,” whined Rupert.

  Kareem stood up quietly and looked toward the students, his eyes glistening as if he had shed tears while on his knees.

  “Come on, guys, join us.”

  Jonah knelt beside Eliza and Jeremiah, extending the circle wider. Even Rupert and Frederick knelt. It would be hard to ignore the power of prayer after they had seen it in action.

  The others had continued to pray, so involved that they seemed unaware of the presence of reinforcements. Jonah sat on his knees, trying to get comfortable. He fidgeted a little, which only made Jeremiah beside him fidget too. Finally, he accepted the fact that resting on his knees was not going to feel good and tried to focus on the words that were being said.

  It took him a few minutes to catch up to the others. He heard words and phrases from the nuns like “supplication” and “hedge of protection” and other things that sounded high and lofty. But he also heard the simple, heartfelt words of his friend David, who was pleading with Elohim to protect them and naming each of the students out loud. This bolstered Jonah’s confidence, and soon he found himself entering with his heart into the rhythm of prayer.

  Although he was outside of the hidden realm and couldn’t see the light emanating from the others or himself, when he joined in the prayer, he began to feel more and more connected. He focused on what the others were saying, and on allowing his heart and mind to reach out to Elohim. He found himself caught up in it, and he pictured the light being poured out of his heart, joining with the others, and sent toward the heavens.

  TWENTY

  THE WOMAN IN THE CHAIR

  Even though Jonah found the prayer time to be exhilarating, his knees grew tired and achy, and after a little while, his mind began to wander. He swallowed hard, trying to push himself through the tiredness. It soon felt like swimming against a strong tide. He could tell Eliza, on his left, was also struggling. She kept rubbing her eyes mid-prayer and yawning.

  Jeremiah was lying facedown on the floor. He could have easily been mistaken for a serious prayer warrior—someone lying facedown on the floor before Elohim, in full submission to His will—but his soft snores gave him away. Jonah reached over and shook him gently on the shoulder. Jeremiah raised his head, opening one sleepy eye.

  “This isn’t nap time, Jeremiah,” Jonah muttered.

  Looking around, Jonah noticed that a group of nuns who looked freshly rested had just walked through the door.

  Kareem came over and tapped the three Stone kids on the shoulder to take a break. Apparently, they were praying in shifts now.

  Jonah, Eliza, and Jeremiah walked out of the prayer room, stretching their legs. Kareem encouraged them to go back to their rooms and try to get some rest. Jonah knew he needed it, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to sleep when a hundred fallen angels stood outside. But we are safe, he tried to tell himself. The prayer shield is holding steady.

  They walked past a small side room, and Jonah noticed Camilla standing with Marcus and Taryn, huddling together. They were in a serious conference, and Jonah heard their voices growing heated. Jonah and Eliza stopped just past the door, craning their necks to listen as Marcus’s voice rose above the two female angels.

  “We don’t need them, Camilla!” he said, the exasperation clear in his voice. “We need to simply attack them head-on. They will be no match for us.” His finger tapped rapidly on the hilt of his sword.

  Camilla smiled at the giant angel, her voice full of respect. “I don’t doubt your skills, Marcus. But what would the children do if we should fall? Elohim
has charged us with keeping them safe, so we must stay with them no matter how much we might want to fight.” She turned toward a window, watching the fallen angels outside. A few of them saw the angel looking at them, and they began to gesture at her, calling out to her in some other language Jonah couldn’t understand. But by their tone, it was clear that they were taunting her. This infuriated Marcus, and he pressed himself against the glass, ready to burst through and take them all on himself. Camilla extended her arm, placing it across the angel’s chest, holding him back.

  “It’s what they want us to do, my friend,” said Camilla. “Notice that they are not trying to penetrate the barrier anymore.”

  “It is too strong,” offered Taryn. “They tried, but they cannot. There is power in the prayers of the humans and the quarterlings.”

  Camilla nodded. She watched them for another minute with peace-filled eyes, even as they continued to call out and beckon her to fight. “But there is something else. Something more . . . I haven’t yet been able to discern it. But I believe that they are waiting.”

  Marcus turned toward her, fire still boiling in his eyes. “Waiting for what?”

  Camilla continued to watch them. “I do not know,” she answered quietly.

  Taryn spoke, and Jonah could hear that even she, who was usually so even-keeled, was ruffled. “Have you spoken to our commanders? Are they sending reinforcements? Surely they recognize the need we have.”

  “Elohim will send us what we need when we need it,” said Camilla. “You know as well as I do that the angelic forces are facing battles on multiple fronts, and our ranks are stretched very thin.” She managed a weak smile. “Elohim gives us enough to accomplish His purpose. He always has, and He always will.”

  Both Marcus and Taryn lowered their heads, nodding in agreement.