Spirit Fighter (Son of Angels, Jonah Stone)

by Jerel Law

  Two of the fallen ones held large spears, taking aim together at Eliza’s shield. They released them at the same time, and they hit the shield with enough force that it pushed Eliza back and onto the ground. Her glasses flew off, bouncing along the concrete, and the shield disappeared.

  Three of the Fallen remained, including the subway lady. They raised their black, crumpled wings and flapped twice, sailing quickly toward them. Subway Lady’s yellow eyes bulged out of her scaly black face as she grinned fiercely, landing on the path right in front of them. Her sword gleamed as she waved it in their faces, the tip of it bloodred.

  “Very impressive, my dears,” she snarled. “You’ve come such a long way. Your mother would be so proud. Too bad you’re not going to ever see her again.”

  Jonah and Eliza stepped back as the three Fallen walked toward them. Jonah backed into a trash can, and he picked it up and threw it at them as hard as he could. The old lady batted it away as if she were swatting a gnat.

  She raised her sword at Eliza, who hadn’t been able to find her glasses. Jonah was sure all Eliza could see was a big, dark shadow, and all she could feel was fear and defeat, not faith. Crouching down, Eliza shielded her face. Subway Lady was posing to strike, and Jonah pictured his sister taking her last breath right in front of him.

  The fallen angel brought her blade crashing down.

  “Eliza!” Jonah rushed forward to try to put himself between the blade and his sister. But just before he could cover her, Eliza threw up her hands one more time. Just in time for the flickering shield of faith to block the blow.

  Jonah seized the only chance he knew he was going to get. He pulled two arrows at once off of his back and didn’t even bother stringing them.

  He threw them as hard as he could.

  Each arrow found its target, piercing the chests of the two fallen ones on either side of Subway Lady.

  “Your turn!” he said as he leveled one last arrow, strung it, and let it fly.

  It met her chest, and she screeched in pain and fell to the ground.

  All of them now lay sprawled across the subway station, motionless. Jonah and Eliza caught their breath and watched as the Fallen began to disintegrate into black dust.

  Finally Jonah whispered, “You think they’re . . . dead?”

  “I don’t think so,” Eliza said, sitting up. “They are eternal beings, just like the angels. They can’t die. They must just . . . relocate.” Eliza’s brow wrinkled. “Like when Jesus sent the demons out of the boy and into the herd of pigs.”

  Jonah remembered. “They had to do exactly what Jesus told them to do. They became bound under Elohim’s command.”

  Jonah found Eliza’s glasses and handed them to her. She rubbed them on her shirt, and they watched as the black dust blew down around the subway tracks.

  “Nice shooting, Jonah,” Eliza said. “You’re getting good. Wish I had a bow and arrow myself.”

  “Thanks, E, but be careful what you wish for. How many times have you saved our lives today with that shield of yours? Look at the Miami Heat. They would be nowhere without a killer defense, right?”

  She stared at him blankly.

  “Well, that’s what you are, sis,” he said. “Our killer defense.”

  Eliza smiled faintly as the subway train swept into the station.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jonah said, still looking warily around. “I personally don’t ever want to experience that again.”

  SEVENTEEN

  THE CASTLE

  They tried to calm down as they rode the subway north toward Central Park, but it was difficult.

  “You don’t think anything bad happened to Henry, do you?” Eliza said darkly. “I’m worried, Jonah. We need help. We have no clue what we’re doing.”

  Almost everything inside of him agreed with her. They had no idea where they were going, really, or what they were going to do when they got there. It was blind faith that moved them forward, following what Jonah had seen in his vision. Henry was gone, and they were alone.

  And yet . . .

  This was their mission, not anyone else’s. Whether or not it seemed impossible, this was the path Elohim had put them on. That was going to have to be enough for now.

  The electronic voice announced, “Next stop, Fifty-Seventh Street,” and they exited the subway, just south of Central Park.

  They walked across the bustling street when the light changed, unseen by the dozens of people who crossed with them. Most of the people glowed dimly, just visible in the morning light; every once in a while, though, they saw someone shining brightly as they walked, lighting up the pavement.

  A large, stone wall surrounded the park, and they walked along it until they found the entrance—a paved pathway winding into the woods. It felt strange to Jonah to one minute be on a busy downtown street, and the next to find himself in what seemed like an old forest. But when they took a few steps in, the sights and sounds of the city were only a memory.

  Jonah stopped in the middle of the pathway and sighed.

  “Where to now?” Eliza asked. He glanced back at her but didn’t respond.

  He looked at the outline of dark trees and bushes, and a couple of pathways splitting off in front of them. He tried to remember the vision, but how was he supposed to know if this was the right place? Doubt began to creep into his mind. Even if this was the right place, the park was enormous, bigger then the entire downtown of Peacefield. How could he possibly know where their mother was being held?

  Breathe, Jonah. Breathe.

  He closed his eyes, slowing his mind down and trying to picture the vision again. The trees, ponds, and lawn all came into view, as well as the castle.

  The castle.

  His eyes popped open and he looked down the path, both ways.

  “What is it?” Eliza said. “You remember something?”

  He didn’t answer, his mind racing. He continued searching the path until he spotted it. A sign, near the entrance. He sprinted back and stood in front of the sign. It showed a detailed map of the park. He ran his finger over the map, studying it intently.

  “Belvedere Castle!” He stuck his finger on a point near the center of the map. That had to be it.

  “The image from your vision?” Eliza panted, having chased him back down the path.

  Jonah nodded. He felt a new energy course through him. “This is it. It’s the only castle on here. And I just have this feeling . . .”

  It was hard to explain, but somehow he knew this was where they needed to go. One more look at the map and he was beckoning her after him down the path.

  “Let’s be careful,” Eliza said as they walked along, looking up at the trees. “It feels kind of dark in here.”

  They walked in silence for the next ten minutes, carefully watching the woods, more than once jumping at the movement of squirrels in the leaves. Crossing a bridge over a pond, they heard only their own footsteps across the wood. No one was there. Jonah figured even New Yorkers were scared of some parts of Central Park. Probably afraid of getting mugged. They have no idea that the real threat might be fallen angels. Talk about scary.

  They came to a small wooden sign that said The R amble. Behind it was a narrow dirt path that wound downward, deeper into the forest. The growth looked much thicker here.

  “I hate to say it, but I think we have to go this way to the castle,” said Jonah.

  Eliza peered down the path. “Looks creepy.”

  He stepped onto the path, followed reluctantly by Eliza.

  Briars pressed in on both sides, so that they could only walk in single file. It grew dark, the dense trees blocking out the sun as they worked their way down into the wild, overgrown area. The air grew cooler by the second. Twice Jonah thought he saw a pair of yellow eyes watching them from behind a tree. He was tense, his hands ready to pull an arrow at a moment’s notice. He had the distinct feeling that they were being watched. But so far, no one was attacking.

  “Something’s in here wit
h us,” Eliza whispered from behind. Jonah silently agreed but said nothing and tried to move as fast as he could. He was sure that the map showed that this was the fastest way to the castle.

  He shivered in the darkness. The cold seemed to seep into his skin and down into his bones. It felt like icy fingers had suddenly reached inside his body and were searching, probing. Looking for a place inside him to grab and hold on to. Glancing back, he saw Eliza’s strained expression and knew she was feeling the same thing.

  It felt like fear, but wrapped in a deep, blanketing sadness.

  Jonah’s heart grew heavy, as if any minute it might fall out of his chest and crack into a million frozen pieces. The fingers continued reaching inside him as he willed his legs to move, and the sadness turned into despair.

  Despair quickly spiraled into hopelessness.

  He felt himself slowing down, his limbs growing stiff and numb. What’s the point? They were never going to find his mother. They couldn’t possibly defeat the hordes of Abaddon. They were just a couple of kids. Their guardian angel was gone—forever, for all he knew.

  What were we thinking?

  Grief began icing over him. Misery moved in like an impenetrable fog, and he stopped moving. He sat down in the dirt and began to weep. Eliza dropped beside him and began sobbing too.

  “There’s so much . . . darkness,” Jonah gasped.

  Tears covered Eliza’s face as she looked up. “I just . . . don’t think I can . . . keep going, Jonah. I feel so . . . so . . .”

  “Sad,” whispered Jonah, head hanging between his knees.

  “What is this place? Where are we?”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t know.

  All Jonah could think, all he knew, was that they were totally and completely lost.

  But then something stirred inside him. Somewhere deep inside, beneath the pain, below the sadness, in the small, tucked-away place the icy fingers had been grappling for but could not reach, his soul had whispered one solitary word. One desperate word, the last word of hope he knew.

  Elohim.

  The word fluttered gently at first, but grew stronger, working its way through the blanket of sadness covering his heart. It went up into his thoughts, and finally into his mouth.

  “Elohim,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  Eliza stirred beside him, and Jonah heard her breath catch, followed by the rustle of leaves as she leaned into the dense undergrowth to peer at something farther down the path, on the other side of Jonah.

  “Jonah, look,” she said with a tired voice.

  It felt like his head was made of cold steel, but he finally forced his chin up off of his chest and looked.

  Through the darkness, ahead of them on the path, he saw it.

  A single dot of light.

  They both stared at the glowing pinprick. It was pure and dazzling white. Jonah felt a tinge of warmth as he focused on it, which took an edge off the cold.

  Jonah forced himself up slowly and finally stood. Grabbing Eliza’s hand, he helped pull her up beside him, and they steadied themselves for a few seconds.

  “Keep looking at the light,” he said. “Let’s walk toward it.”

  “I . . . I don’t think I can,” said Eliza, sounding as if she might break down in tears again.

  Words made their way to Jonah’s mouth again. He forced his lips to form the words and speak them.

  “Give her strength, Elohim. Give us strength.”

  They held on to each other and began to move, only inches at first. With each step, though, their strength began to come back. They were climbing up a slow incline, out of The Ramble, continuing to look at the light that was piercing the darkness around them. The blackness began to lose its grip; the cold wasn’t so harsh anymore. Daylight began to envelop them again, and the shadows faded into the distance behind them.

  Finally they came to a pond and walked up onto a bridge.

  Jonah stood in the middle of the footbridge and breathed in deep, his head feeling clear now.

  “You okay?” he asked Eliza.

  She swallowed and nodded slowly. “I think so. I’ve never felt like that before. I just wanted to give up. On everything.”

  “Me too. That place was seriously evil.” He shuddered, thinking about what would have happened if they hadn’t had Elohim to rely on.

  His eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight as he looked across the pond. Scanning the tops of the trees slowly, he noticed a column rising just above the tree line. A flag waved softly in the breeze.

  “The castle!” he said, pointing toward the column. “The one I saw in my vision. That’s it!”

  They bounded down the pathway together, filled with new energy, and with a new batch of nerves. What was there? Would they find their mother, and would they be able to rescue her?

  The small stone castle sat on the edge of another pond. It appeared to grow naturally out of the rocky ground. Jonah wondered why something like this would be in the middle of Central Park, but they didn’t have time for a history lesson. He knew it held the key to finding his mother, and he was more than ready to get her and go home.

  Hiding behind a bushy tree, Jonah and Eliza peered through the leaves at the castle entrance.

  “What are we supposed to do? Just walk right in?” Eliza asked. “I don’t see anyone there.”

  “It looks like that’s the only way to get inside,” Jonah said, watching the door. “And if what I saw in my vision was right, we have to get in there to find Mom.”

  He pulled the branches aside and was about to walk forward.

  “Wait, Jonah!”

  His foot was in midair when he froze. Eliza pointed toward the ground in front of them. Barely visible, a beam of red light shot across the ground, about a foot above the dirt. It extended in both directions, turning toward the back of the castle.

  She picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it in the air. As the dust floated down, a web of beams appeared.

  “Some kind of laser beams?” Jonah guessed as he pulled his foot back. They studied the beams for a few seconds.

  “I don’t know,” said Eliza. “But I’m betting it’s nothing we want to touch. Could be an alarm system, or they could even slice you to bits.”

  Jonah heard movement around the sides of the castle. “Shhh!” he whispered, holding his hand up. Two large figures appeared, walking from opposite ends of the castle toward the door.

  Easily eight feet tall, they walked in step with each other. They wore sand-colored body armor from head to toe, and helmets with face shields that made them look like futuristic robots. Both of the soldiers’ eyes were covered by a dark visor, and even when the sunlight fell across the visors Jonah saw only flat blackness. He wondered if, behind those helmets, they had eyes at all.

  But the only weapons these modern-looking warriors seemed to be carrying were long, jagged spears, which they gripped tightly in their hands as if they couldn’t wait to run any intruder through.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah saw a flutter up above.

  “Look!” he whispered. “Up in the tower!”

  They could see at least four more soldiers, standing at attention in the tower, long spears in their hands. In between them, peering down, with hands shackled together, stood an angel who looked like a handsome teenage boy.

  “Henry!” Eliza cried. Jonah put his hand on her arm and raised a finger to his lips. She lowered her voice to a gleeful whisper. “He looks like he’s okay!”

  “For now,” Jonah replied. Those soldiers, whoever they were, were holding the guardian angel prisoner. But it was good to see his face, even here.

  The door to the castle suddenly opened, and as the ghostly soldiers continued pacing, another figure stepped into the light. He wore a similar suit of armor and helmet, except his looked like black iron. The armor itself looked like it would weigh as much as the Stone family car. Instead of holding a spear, a long sword hung from his belt.

  He slowly ambled between the g
uards, looked out into the sky, and lifted off his helmet. Jonah and Eliza drew back, repulsed by what they saw. Skin hung from his cheekbones, but just barely. And in a few places, it had apparently fallen off, to expose muscle and bone. His scalp, hairless, was the same.

  However, what was most disturbing to Jonah and Eliza were his eyes. Like two dark stones sunken into the ground, they had collapsed into their sockets. He muttered something to one of the soldiers. Jonah shivered as they watched from behind the tree.

  “That guy looks like he’s in charge,” whispered Eliza. Jonah nodded.

  “We have to get in there,” he said. “We’ve got to help Henry. And this is where they are holding Mom!”

  Eliza thought for a minute. “How are we supposed to get in there? The place is guarded by soldier zombies or whatever they are, and that’s assuming we can get through these red beams of light somehow.”

  They both turned around and sat quietly in the grass. Jonah racked his brain. How are we supposed to get into this castle? We can’t just go straight through the door. So what do we do? He grabbed a small stone in his hand and tossed it onto the ground in front of him in frustration. It tumbled down the hill.

  “ . . . and the walls came tumblin’ down . . .”

  The lyrics to the old Sunday school song flooded his mind. His head snapped up and he turned around again to study the castle.

  Could it really be that easy?

  “Jericho,” he said simply.

  Eliza cocked her head. “What?”

  “Jericho.”

  Jonah got up and dusted his hands off. “Stay here and don’t come out until I tell you to. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “But—” she protested, but he wasn’t listening. He stood with his eyes closed, concentrating. He prayed that Elohim would again give him the feet shod “with the preparation of the gospel of peace.” Then his tennis shoes disappeared, replaced by the sandals.