“Yes.” Uriel leaned forward. “Father is the one God. No man, entity, or force should be worshipped, save Him.”
I swallowed hard when I saw the awesome heavenly fire now sparking brightly within Uriel’s golden eyes.
After a few moments… his clenched jaw relaxed and he smiled softly at me.
“Do go on, tiny Jem.”
I nervously cleared my throat and looked back to the large book spread atop my legs. “It says here that this new army would number two hundred thousand thousand horsemen. That’s two hundred million horsemen. Can you believe that?”
“I can. The invasion of which you now speak took nearly four hundred years. Over that span of time, two hundred million horsemen is an accurate picture.”
“It says the riders wore breastplates of fire, jacinth, and brimstone—red, deep purple, and yellow—and that the heads of the horses were as lions… with fire, smoke, and brimstone issuing forth from their mouths.”
“A destructive, literally explosive force, yes.”
“Yes, and this scene perfectly describes the Turkish Empire. The historical facts of the rise of the Turks are well known and documented. They dressed like the prophesy says, decorated their horse’s heads to look like lions, and… they used guns.”
He nodded. “The fire, smoke, and brimstone issuing forth from their mouths.”
“Yeah… and it says they were loosed for an hour, a day, a month, and a year. Basing this off of the already established method of a day of prophesy equaling a year of fulfillment—a year would be three hundred and sixty-five days, a month would be thirty, a day would be one, and an hour would be only part of a year. Add them all up and you get three hundred and ninety-seven years.”
Uriel smiled. “Yes, go on.”
“Okay… From the year the Turks crossed the Euphrates, to the crown of their conquests at the fall of Constantinople, is precisely three hundred and ninety-seven years. It’s simply… astounding.”
“Yes.” He smiled again. “Father is the Master of events.”
I nodded. “Truly…”
“And the last trumpet?”
“Oh… Yeah…” I flipped ahead several pages in my journal. “Sooo many things happened.”
Uriel chuckled. “I fear my request for a story has only pulled you further from sleep, little one. Apologies.”
“That’s why the story was supposed to come from you, not me.”
Uriel smiled softly. “Lay down, tiny Jem, and I will ease you in this burden.”
“You don’t wanna know what I found out about the last trumpet?”
“Shhh… Close your eyes now. If you still wish to speak, you may do so… but only if you remain still and keep your eyes closed.”
I yawned. “…Okay.”
He gently stroked my hair. It felt good. I think I smiled.
“Uriel… were you involved in that great war in heaven when the seventh trumpet sounded?”
He paused for a moment, then began tenderly twisting my curls around his elegant fingers.
“…I was, yes… When my fallen brother and his followers were cast down out of heaven…”
“Yeah… the Devil.”
“…there was rejoicing in heaven… but then you humans had to contend with him.”
I think I tried to answer, I’m just not sure the words came out properly.
An amazing, comforting sleep fell over me like a snuggly blanket. I woke refreshed and completely rejuvenated… but, Uriel was gone.
I called out for him—even checked the bathroom. Yeah, I know that was silly of me. It was only then that I realized what must have happened.
“I guess that important summons he was talking about came around sooner than he was expecting. Or… he couldn’t stand my snoring any longer.” I chuckled as I reached for the phone and ordered a huge breakfast.
*****
I was standing there with my backpack on—arms laden with books—glancing around my rented room for the night.
“Well… he did tell me to just wait for him in Paris. I’ve still got enough angelic petrol to get me there.” I sighed and then stepped out into the hall. “Yep, that’s what I’m gonna do—use the Nether to get to France, then wait for my Angel in Shining Armor to come rescue me.”
I chuckled to myself as I turned in my keys and headed out into another glorious day.
Chapter
8
“One-way ticket to Paris, France, please.”
Paltiel spun around to face me, his wide gaze narrowing as he growled at me.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
I cocked one eyebrow as I tilted my head. “How the hell did I get into hell? Pfft. Same as always, Palpateen. You been drinking or something?”
“Gadriel!” he shouted back over his shoulder. “A Witness just entered the Nether using the blood key. How many more stones are out right now?”
“By my count… they’ve all been turned in.” The auburn-haired Angel approached. “I didn’t call for hers because she has a blood bond with Uriel now. I assumed he would take care of it.”
“And why would you assume such as that?” Paltiel quickly snapped the chain from about my neck. “Uriel has been charged with this most important of summonses. He hasn’t time to be bothered with anyone or anything else.”
As Paltiel tossed my pendant towards the other Angel, I tried to snatch it from the air.
“Hey! Give that back. It’s mine!”
“It is not yours,” Gadriel said. “It was on loan—now recalled.”
“Recalled? Why?”
Paltiel crossed his arms and smirked. “The universe is on lock-down, mortal woman. All portal passage has been stopped until the threat with Gokula has been resolved.”
“Wha… When will that be?”
“When the Death Angel cleans up her most recent mess.” Gadriel dropped my pendant in the bag at his waist. “Until she puts an end to this threat, every Angel is on guard and passage is denied to all.”
“Then… what will I do?”
The auburn-haired Angel only shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
My shocked gaze fell back to the smirking raven-crowned Angel who hated me.
“You’d be safer here.” Paltiel casually leaned against the wall. “Layer eight is no place to be right now. The people of Earth may not make it through this one. But you hate the smell of this place, don’t you?” He uncrossed his arms and slowly started towards me. “And… you’ve already used up the only favor I promised you’d get from me. Remember?”
I took a step back just as he grabbed me by my curls.
“Enjoy Paris,” he hissed in my ear. “This is where you and I part ways, human Witness. Farewell.”
Then, he shoved me towards the wall… and I stumbled—ever so ungracefully—out onto the streets of the City of Love.
*****
Every time I see a drop-dead gorgeous priest, I can’t help but think… Dang. What a waste. I don’t know why I always think that. It’s not like I would personally date him or anything. I guess it’s more in a way of like… Such a waste—removing sheer perfection from the human genepool. Anyway, the priest at Notre Dame is one such man. Well, the one I was fortunate enough to deal with—perfect jawline, flawless skin, a smile that makes your heart quake… right before it skips a beat. Yeah… like that.
And… that’s exactly what I was pondering—why in the world Father Robert chose a life of celibacy for himself—when I felt a sharp pain pierce my left shoulder, only an instant before my right arm was nearly jerked from its socket. The priceless books I was busy flipping through, tumbled from my lap and splayed open-faced on the sidewalk in front of my park bench.
I jumped to my feet, reflexively and in shock, turning in the only direction my assailant could have fled… only to see his short brown hair quickly disappearing into the anonymous crowd.
I was still standing there—slack-jawed, searching frantically for that indescript gray shirt amongst the ever-flo
wing sea of strangers—when a dark-haired woman in a pencil skirt and black heels approached me from behind.
“You are bleeding.”
Without turning to face her, and without any coherent thought whatsoever, I mindlessly reached toward the pain now burning a path down my back. Pulling my hand away, I could only stare silently at the crimson-coated fingers in front of my face—trembling evidence of what my addled mind had still been unable to yet process. When I heard the curious plopping sound at my feet, I followed the thick red drops as they landed softly upon the yellowing pages of the tome I had only just taken from Father Robert’s strong hands—cinnabar splashes inking through ancient parchment.
I don’t clearly remember how I got to the police station, only the way pencil-skirt-lady smiled sadly as she went back out the door. When I numbly turned back to face the crowded room, my slow-motion stupor immediately halted… as the cacophony of frantic voices and ringing phones washed over my altered reality.
The police man who escorted me to the hospital flinched when I cried out from the antiseptic, then silently stared into my wavering eyes until the many stitches were carefully covered with a soft bandage.
“And you did not see this man’s face?”
I shook my head as I slowly sat up and let the nurse help me get my arm back into my sleeve.
“I was writing in my journal.” My distant gaze met the nurse’s as she quietly left the room. I returned her small smile. “I wasn’t looking up. I was recording my findings.”
“Findings concerning what?”
“Historical research.”
“I see.” He scribbled something down. “And you didn’t notice anyone suspicious?”
“I was lost in my reading. I didn’t notice anything.”
“No idea why he stabbed you?”
“Is there ever a reason to just stab anyone?”
The officer held my gaze for a moment.
“Are you curious as to if perhaps I provoked him? Pfft. Are you being serious right now?”
He didn’t answer.
“Yeah, let’s go with that line of thought for a moment, shall we? You might be on to something. I provoked him. How? I don’t know. Maybe because I was minding my own frickin’ business. Or maybe it was because my beaten up old backpack was sooo fancy, the brilliant gleam it sent out blinded that poor thug and rendered him completely incapable of proper reason and human decency. I simply have no idea how many countless mistakes I must have made. You tell me, Officer. What is the correct way to sit down and quietly read a book in your fair city that would deter worthless scum from slicing through your back to cut a worn leather strap? Hmm? Tell me. What should I have done to prevent such vile behavior?”
He tapped his pen against his notebook a moment. “Do you have anyone we can call? Anyone who can verify your identity or why you’re here?”
“No… I have no one.”
“Not a soul in this world?”
“That’s what I meant when I said no one.”
He sighed and closed the little blue notebook he’d been scribbling in.
I didn’t say anything else, just waited for him to speak.
“I am very sorry for what has happened to you, Ms. Stone. It is… unfortunate.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You have no other I.D. of any kind?”
“Everything I own in this world was in my backpack.”
“No wallet on your person?”
I slowly slid down off the metal bed and numbly dug through my pockets, discarding the contents onto the small table beside him.
The red tattoo encircling my left finger caught my eye.
Uriel… I… I need you.
“What’s this?”
I focused then on the wadded up piece of paper the officer was carefully uncrinkling.
He looked up at me. “A yuan?”
I furrowed my brow, still staring at the odd paper money he was holding.
“How did you end up with a yuan, Ms. Stone? Were you recently in China?”
I slowly shook my head. “No… I was in Rio. I don’t even recall the last time I was in Hong Kong. I don’t… I must’ve…” I met his questioning gaze. “I must have washed it in these jeans dozens of times… without noticing,” I absently added, reaching for the worthless bill. “Is this all that’s left of me?” I felt the painful burn of coming tears. “A life… any life, should add up to more than just a lighter, two hair-bands, my cellphone… and a single solitary yuan…” I looked back up at the man. “What will I do now?” I barely whispered.
He cleared his throat and quietly began collecting up my meager possessions. “For now… we’ll head back to the station.”
*****
“But it’s Saturday.” I looked from the paperwork up to the officer. “My bank won’t be open until Monday.”
He turned back to his computer. “There must be an emergency number you can call.” He continued typing. “Get a transfer, or freeze your account.”
“Yeah… I guess my mind hasn’t quite kicked back into gear yet.”
He turned the glowing monitor towards me. “This is it, right? Your bank?”
I nodded.
“And there’s a number right there.” He dialed the phone as he handed me the receiver.
After about half an hour had passed, I slowly laid the black receiver down and looked up at him.
“They got it all,” I half whispered. “Already… Every last cent.”
“Is it unfixable?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. She flagged my account, but that’s all she can do for the moment. When the bank opens on Monday, I’ll call and start the paperwork.”
“And until then?”
“Until then… I wait.”
“Do you have any friends or associates in the city?”
I slowly shook my head.
“Very well. If that’s the case, I guess you can stay here until Monday. A holding cell is not adequate accommodations, I know, but it’s all I can do.”
“Thanks…”
“You hungry?”
I shook my head again. “I don’t know if I am or not… I’m numb.”
“I’ve informed the American Embassy.”
“Thanks…”
“I’ll order us some sandwiches. Anything you don’t like?”
“…Mayonnaise.”
“Everything else, okay?”
I nodded.
After we had eaten and Officer Bents retrieved me a black hoodie from somewhere, I sat in that metal chair and sipped on the steaming coffee—watching the busy goings-on of the station, without seeing a single thing.
“Hey…”
The man glanced over to me when I spoke.
“Thanks for helping me… for feeding me… for everything. Sorry I snapped at you at the hospital like that. I know you were just trying to do your job.”
“You were scared and injured and alone… it’s understandable.”
“Yeah, well, anyway… Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
*****
First thing Monday morning the bank began processing my claim. It was relief wrapped up in extreme frustration. When I hung up the phone, I rested my head on my hands and tried not to cry.
“Everything taken care of?”
“Not yet.” I glanced up at Officer Bents. “But it will be.”
“Are they wiring you some money?”
“The paperwork has to go through first. It’ll take a few days.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t use credit cards.” I sighed. “I have a debit card linked directly to all my money. That account has no holds or flags set up on it. I travel all over. Constantly. I didn’t want to get caught on the other side of the world and my money to be frozen because they were suspicious of a charge on my card in Tibet one day and Germany the next. I need to be able to pay for room and board no matter what time or day it is. So… thief dude had zero problems clearing out my acco
unt from the nearest few ATMs. Your police report will help with the bank, but I still have to wait until they get the all-clear from the higher-ups before they can just hand me money. This is gonna cost them a pretty penny, to be sure. They’re super hesitant about giving me anything. And rightfully so, I suppose.”
“What will you do until then?”
“I think I’ll go back to the church. Maybe the priests will know of some place that’ll take me in until I get this mess all straightened out.”
“I know of some places that will take you in, possibly… but they’re not places I would recommend if you had anywhere else you could go.”
I smiled softly. “Thanks, Officer Bents. That’s super sweet of you. I’ll never be able to repay your kindness. You’ve gone above and beyond for me already. I truly appreciate it.”
*****
“Back so soon?” Father Robert smiled as he approached. “You are either an extremely fast reader, or I gave you the wrong book.”
“Neither… sadly. I’m back because I had no place else to go.”
His handsome smile faded. “Come, child. Tell me what has befallen you.”
“Child. Pffts. I’m pretty sure I’m older than you.”
“Force of habit.” He smiled again. “And my age is much farther along than my face will admit.”
“Poor you,” I half mumbled. “Just gonna be stingy and keep all that perfect DNA to yourself, huh?”
He muffled his laugh. “I have many brothers who have passed on our father’s genes, many times over. The world does not need me for that.”
“I’m pretty sure just about every woman who walks through that door would disagree with you.”
He cast me a sideways glance, still smiling, but didn’t speak.
“Eh, well… Whatever gets them to come to church, I guess.”
“Stop your teasing, child, or I will be compelled to join you.”
“Against the rules, huh?”
“By the time you leave, I’m certain the need for extra penitence will be in my future.”
The Journey Page 18