The Garden Gate

by Christa J. Kinde

  Too surprised to manage much else, Beau blinked.

  Marcus waved his hand in front of his face. “Snap out of it, Boaz!”

  “Right. Sorry.” Shaking his head, he tried to look away . . . and failed. “That you, Marcus?”

  “Wish I had a camera right now. Your face. Priceless.”

  Beau wouldn’t have minded taking a few snapshots right then. He settled for another long look, because he never wanted to forget this sight. “I’m getting the idea that heaven’s a colorful place.”

  “Understatement. But let’s save that chat for later. I need you to do something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “They grabbed Koji. And getting him back might take some doing. Can you cover for him and your sister?”

  “Prissie’s going?”

  Marcus glanced over his shoulder. “Yep.”

  Beau reached out and cautiously touched Marcus’s arm. The angel was warm . . . solid . . . real. When those strange, yellow eyes zeroed back in on him, Beau pressed, “Sis won’t go alone, will she?”

  “Dunno for sure.” Shifting his weapon into his other hand in order to bare his palm, he added, “Not if I can help it.”

  With a quick nod, Beau said, “Consider yourselves covered.”

  Prissie practically flung herself at Padgett when the Caretaker arrived to tend to Jedrick. “He’s bleeding everywhere . . . and Koji’s shoe . . . and I need to go!”

  “Breathe,” Padgett urged, his hand on her shoulder.

  She calmed, but the jangling sense of urgency didn’t dissipate. Shaking her head, she insisted, “I need to go.”

  A large, sun-browned hand settled on her other shoulder. “Where?” Tamaes asked.

  “To Koji,” she replied, tears welling. “I belong with Koji. Now.”

  The teammates traded a speaking glance, then looked to Jedrick for direction. Prissie’s apron was knotted around his thigh, and with a soft noise of concern, Padgett knelt to check his injuries. The Protector’s expression grew graver by the moment, but finally, he said, “This is a Sending. She will go.”

  With a crunch of stone-scattered pavement under boots, Marcus jogged over. “Not without me! Let me go with her!”

  Jedrick winced as Padgett found another tender spot. “You are asking to be Sent?”

  “I’m willing to go,” Marcus confirmed. Stepping closer to Prissie, he nodded. “I wanna go.”

  “Why?”

  His apprentice’s eyebrows lifted. “To protect Prissie.”

  With a sigh, Jedrick asked, “And . . . are you Sent?”

  Prissie stared into the young Protector’s face, waiting to hear heaven’s answer. When it came, Marcus offered a wry smirk. “Yep. But not like I thought. All I gotta do is hold her hand.” With a sidelong look, he added, “She’ll do the rest.”

  Padgett opened an archway that placed Prissie and Marcus somewhere in the middle of the Pomeroys’ apple orchard. Using the barn roof as a guide, she led the way to the meeting point, tugging along the angel who had her by the hand. “Are you scared?” Prissie asked.

  “Spitless,” Marcus admitted. He was back in human guise — ​jeans, sneakers, leather jacket, and all. “Did you see what these guys did to Tamaes’s wings?”

  “Yes,” she replied softly. “But if they act as a shield, do they really hurt?”

  “Outside’s tough. Inside’s not. He was in a world of pain.”

  Her stomach dropped. “I’m glad Abner and Padgett could help.”

  “Yep. We count on them big time.”

  Prissie tried not to think about all the things Adin could be doing to Koji. She only needed to hurry. Get to him before the harm was done. Leaning forward, she tried to get Marcus to pick up the pace.

  “Easy does it, kiddo,” he cautioned. “This ain’t the time to rush in where angels fear to tread.”

  She scowled at him, but her anger fizzled out. He looked as anxious as she felt. And given his last encounter with Adin, he had every right to be. But Marcus had come with her anyhow. Reluctantly, she slowed enough to match his stride.

  Marcus squeezed her hand. “Do you got a plan?”

  “Yes.”

  After a short pause, he prompted, “Can I hear it?”

  “Get Koji back,” she replied tersely.

  “Nice and simple.” Without a trace of mockery, he said, “Plenty of battles have been won by sticking to a simple plan. Kill the giant. Blow the trumpet. Conquer the grave.”

  Comparing her to the likes of David and Joshua only made her feel smaller. Prissie confessed, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Marcus slowed his steps even further. “Nah, you just don’t know how everything’ll go down. But you’re doing what you’re supposed to. You were Sent, and you’re going.”

  “I can’t hear God’s voice,” she argued. “The only reason I know I’m Sent is because Jedrick said so.”

  “Confirmed by an angel. Solid.”

  She vented more frustration. “And the only reason I know where I’m going is because Adin told us where to be.”

  “Good chance he’ll be there, then,” Marcus pointed out. “He’s practically cornered.”

  Prissie rounded on him, fear bubbling up as fury. “And I can’t fight like you! I don’t have a slingshot or a trumpet! You’re the warrior, and you didn’t even bring your sword!”

  “This round, I’m demoted to hand-holder.” Without a trace of irritation, he admitted, “There’s a decent chance I’ll be hiding behind you. But it sounds better to say I’ve got your back.”

  “So I’m a shield?” she asked.

  “Maybe we both are,” Marcus replied. “Even if I don’t have my sword, my wings still work.”

  She grumbled, “A strong defense doesn’t score touchdowns.”

  “Spoken like the sister of next year’s star quarterback,” Marcus gruffly teased. “And I kid you not, I’d feel more natural holding a sword.”

  Prissie blinked back tears and stared at the sky, praying in fits and starts. She didn’t know what to ask for. She didn’t know what to do. How could she face a demon who was as cruel as he was clever. Or maybe not so clever. After all, this was the third time he’d used this plan. With a soft snort, Prissie muttered, “Grandpa would call Adin a one-trick pony.”

  “Huh?”

  “This is the same thing he did before,” she explained. “Even though it’s failed twice.”

  “Oh, he’s tricky enough to make trouble for us, but he’s still plenty stupid.” Marcus’s smile was much more relaxed this time. “Adin believes he can outsmart God? Not happening.”

  She froze, thinking hard. “S-say, Marcus . . . ?”

  “Right here.”

  “Do you think he’d actually believe he’d won, if we gave him what he wants?”

  Marcus frowned. “I don’t follow. What didja have in mind?”

  Prissie could barely contain the excitement that thrilled through her soul. Leaning closer to the Protector, she whispered, “You don’t have a sword, and I can’t use one. But we know one!”

  Prissie dreaded seeing Adin again, mostly because she was ashamed. His smiles had given her heart a pleasant flutter, and his compliments had made her feel special. She’d been a fool to admire him, so it felt very appropriate to be meeting again on the red bridge — ​Pomeroys’ Folly.

  Only one person was waiting there, and Prissie groaned. “I really wish he’d stop doing that,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  She held tighter to Marcus’s hand, cheeks flushed. “Every time I’ve seen Adin, he’s worn something that matches what I have on.”

  “I remember. Made him easy to spot at the mall. The guy’s trying too hard. You should dump him.”

  Prissie’s disbelief melted into amusement. “You give relationship advice?”

  “I have opinions.” Marcus gazed steadily at their opponent. “Most of which I keep to myself. But I’ll take a stand when it’s important.”

  After a moment’s th
ought, she smiled up at him. “So you’re the protective type?”

  “You know it.”

  Marcus lapsed into silence as they neared the duck pond. Adin leaned casually against the bridge’s railing, hands in his pockets as he scrutinized them. On the face of things, he looked quite dashing — ​dark brown jeans, riding boots, and a tailored shirt the color of butterscotch pudding. But his illusion was forever ruined by Prissie’s memory of shattered wings and dark promises.

  “You came prepared,” Adin drawled, looking Marcus up and down. “Is he for trade?”

  The Protector’s grip tightened, and Prissie stepped sideways, putting him behind her. “Where’s Koji?” she demanded.

  “Your precious pet is close by.”

  “Koji’s not a pet. He’s my best friend.”

  “One easily replaced,” Adin replied, his gaze returning to Marcus.

  The Protector stood silent and relaxed, and Prissie realized that his presence was all he could offer. This battle was hers, such as it was. “I’m here to bring Koji home.”

  Adin smiled serenely. “I suppose I could let you take what’s left of him. You’ve been collecting crippled angels, have you not?” His eyes glittered menacingly as he added, “Give us a few minutes with this whelp, and we can render him useless as well.”

  She was too late? They’d already hurt Koji! Prissie couldn’t help it. She started shaking.

  Marcus leaned close. “Betcha he’s lying.”

  Prissie glanced sharply at him.

  “You may want to close your eyes,” Marcus whispered. The Protector’s cocky smile was the last thing she saw before the whole world went white.

  When she could see again, Abner was standing in front of them, and Adin had retreated several paces. The Fallen looked far less confident about his advantage with a Caretaker on the scene. Hatred ripped at his words as he bit them off. “What are you doing here?”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Abner replied, “Clearly, I was Sent.”

  “To banish me to the Deep?”

  “No. I won’t oppose you.” In chilly tones, Abner said, “Take what comfort you can from that knowledge.”

  Adin slowly uncoiled and straightened his shirt. “Your hands are tied, yet you are here. Why?”

  “Apparently, Miss Pomeroy has need of a Caretaker. I’m at her beck and call.” Abner glanced at her before crisply adding, “This is between you and her. By all means, proceed. But be aware that I will defend this girl to the uttermost.”

  Emboldened by this turn of events, the Fallen prowled closer to Prissie. “You have more influence than I dreamed!”

  She held her ground . . . and hoped she wasn’t hurting Marcus, whose fingers she was mashing. Somehow, her voice didn’t break when she replied, “It’s like you said, I’m a highly favored one.”

  Adin barely contained his glee. “Tell me, Prissie, what would you give to keep that boy by your side?”

  The question saddened her beyond expression. Why was Adin so good at knowing the right words for wounding? Part of her would give anything to keep Koji. But not against his will. Or God’s. She knew that even after she snatched her best friend out of danger, he’d be leaving. Because to keep him would be to turn him into an abomination like the one standing in front of her.

  Peace settled around Prissie like a set of dove’s wings, and she asked, “Did you know that this is not the only garden in our orchard?”

  Koji sat quietly on the floor in the dilapidated shed, his gaze roving from face to face. His guards could not touch him, but their words made him wish he could stopper his ears. Feral boasts. Foul predictions. Furtive suggestions. The former Protector cared only for violence. The fallen Messenger loved rumors and half-truths. But worst was the Fallen watching him from the shadows in the corner. His ears came to telltale points, and his eyes missed nothing. More than the others, this demon frightened him. He stood as proof that even an Observer could Fall.

  “Curious?” that one inquired with a hissing laugh. “Stoke it, stroke it, set it free. Chase it down forbidden paths. Lose your way home.”

  The carelessness of the Fallen one’s words were not lost on Koji. As an Observer, Koji solemnly listened to this enemy’s recitation; he bore witness to this broken song of regret. Were the words a warning? Did this Fallen one harbor regrets?

  Suddenly, one of the other demons yelped and crashed into the potting bench, rattling the dingy window and breaking several pots. Through the stirring dust motes, Koji saw that an ornately carved blue door now took up much of the far wall, where nothing had been a moment before. His captors scuffled backward, staring suspiciously at fruit and flowers, lattice and leaves, all providing a lush border for a pair of carved trees with upper branches intertwined.

  Koji stood and scuffed to the door, one shoe off and one shoe on. No one moved to stop him. The crystal doorknob flashed with colors, a living opal that welcomed his touch with a musical thrum. A soft click. A small tug. A brilliant crack formed, letting in a puff of soft, sweet air. His guards shrunk away from the light that poured into their darkness.

  From the other side, a girl’s voice trembled on the verge of tears. “Is that you?”

  Koji’s heart leapt. “I am here.”

  She pushed, he pulled, and the door opened wider to reveal a frightened girl with wide, blue eyes standing on the threshold of paradise. Holding out her hand to him, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  Prissie had come for him? With honest amazement, Koji took the hand of the human girl in a shirt emblazoned with its promise of home . . . and learned what it meant to be saved.

  Marcus still hadn’t let Prissie go, so they both extended their arms, welcoming Koji into a double embrace. “Did they hurt you?” she asked worriedly.

  He hid his face against her shoulder and shook his head, but she didn’t believe him. Marcus caught her counting Koji’s fingers and snorted. “No blood loss. No missing limbs. He’s a little shook up, is all.”

  “There are bruises!” she argued.

  With a muffled hiccup of laughter, Koji wrapped his arms around her waist. “I am uninjured . . . and I am sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize for coming back safe,” grumbled Marcus.

  The young angel stubbornly confessed, “I left Prissie’s side. I broke my promise.” Peeping up at her with a tragic expression, he whispered, “I led you into danger.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted, still fussing. “We led you out of danger.”

  “Widen your focus, Observer,” Marcus suggested. “Before you get all bent outta shape, maybe you should look around. We’re not the ones in danger.”

  Koji took more careful note of his surroundings. The First Gate loomed large, a flaming sword hovering between its columns. “Why are we here?” he asked wonderingly. Prissie felt the moment when Koji spotted Adin, for he went completely still. “Why is he here?”

  Every last vestige of their enemy’s illusions had vanished the moment he stepped through Abner’s door. His good looks were spoiled, yet he stood tall and proud. Even in dirty raiment, with the twisted remains of his wings rattling behind him, Adin held onto traces of a mysterious charisma that she’d once found so appealing.

  “Is it just me, or is Adin bigger than I remember?” Prissie asked.

  “Bigger and badder,” agreed Marcus. “He put some effort into passing himself off as human.”

  “He was once a Guardian,” came Tamaes’s quiet voice. “We are not small in stature.”

  Prissie wasn’t surprised to see him and Taweel standing behind them. After everything that had happened, she knew her guardians wouldn’t have left her alone. Especially not with Adin around.

  Abner strolled over. “Come here, Koji. Let’s have a look.” While the Caretaker inspected the boy, he addressed Prissie. “Your plan is inspired . . . and strangely ironic. In this place, the devil tempted a woman with the fruit of a tree, and as a result, mankind was cast out of the garden. On this day, a woman tempted an ou
tcast with the fruit of another tree, luring him right back to the garden’s gate.”

  “Time is filled with echoes,” Koji said, his dark eyes still fixed on Adin.

  “History repeats itself,” Abner translated, also glancing at the enemy in their midst.

  The Fallen spread his arms wide, and his voice rose in triumph. “It’s here! Just as I said it must be!”

  Abner stood and casually approached the demon. “Yes. Prissie knew what you could only guess at.”

  “The First Gate!” Adin exulted. “The Tree of Life!”

  With a chilly smile, Abner asked, “Shouldn’t the Gatekeeper be your first concern?”

  Turning to Prissie, Adin’s smile vanished at the sight of Taweel and Tamaes. His wings drew up around his shoulders, creating sour notes to match his obvious displeasure. “Lead on,” Adin demanded. “Take me inside.”

  Prissie shook her head.

  “But this is Eden!” Taking a step closer, he gestured insistently. “Paradise awaits those bold enough to enter!”

  “You think courage will carry you past this threshold?” Abner asked, his tone patronizing. “How much did you pay to learn that particular lie?”

  Adin’s expression darkened. “The girl is the key!”

  “The girl is a girl, and keys are for locks,” Abner patiently explained. “As I already pointed out, you have a Gatekeeper to contend with.”

  With a rush and ripple of flames, the seraph at the gate transformed into a giant. Taweel grunted in surprise, and Prissie realized that this was probably the first time either Guardian had seen the Gatekeeper. Aril’s voice rumbled a warning. “Turn aside. You cannot enter.”

  Drawing himself up, the demon snapped, “I won’t be dissuaded! To retreat now would be impossible!”

  “Impassable,” corrected Abner.

  “Don’t mock me!” Adin shouted. His voice had taken on a shrill edge. “This is my chance! The only one left to me! You cannot understand how much this means!”

  Prissie shivered. She felt bad for him. Wasn’t he being left out? She knew what that felt like. How terrible to search desperately for something, to finally see it before you, and to be kept from touching it. A pang of sadness vibrated through her soul, and her throat closed. Was it wrong to pity Adin?