“I think you’ve had enough for today, Eve. You did very well, very well indeed. It’s not every day that you get to do some real good, hmm? And it’s not every Shepherd who heals so competently on her first attempt.” She smiled warmly and squeezed my arm as we walked slowly along. When we had gone far enough, Agnes stopped and turned to face me.
“I do wish we could stay and chat for a while, but we need to return to the Archives; I get the strange feeling that Peter is on pins and needles waiting for us to return.”
“Agnes, thank you for bringing me here,” I said sincerely.
“You’re very welcome.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You should know, Eve, I do not invite just anyone here to this beach. But I can see that Peter is fond of you. He believes in you, and that means something to me. So please come and visit this little sanctuary anytime you wish. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to run into each other from time-to-time.”
“I would like that,” I replied.
“So would I.” Agnes smiled warmly at me.
“Agnes?”
“Yes, my child?”
“Can I ever deplete all of my energy when using my power to heal?”
“Yes, you can.” Agnes sighed deeply. “So you’d best be careful.”
Before I could ask her another question, we were back in the Archives.
13. The Rules
Agnes and I returned to find Peter pacing the floor of the Archives.
“Oh dear,” Agnes said. “I’m afraid I was right. You two do need to discuss something.”
I had been so absorbed in my lesson with Agnes that I’d forgotten all about my conversation with Peter just prior to her arrival. I had the feeling Peter wanted to say what had been left unsaid. A knot formed in my stomach.
“Eve, it was such a pleasure to be able to spend time with you.” Agnes hugged me. “You keep practicing doing good deeds when you get the chance.” She smiled warmly at me. “And I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other over the next several centuries. Ah,” she sighed, “what a sweet, young child.” Agnes gave me another quick hug.
“Peter,” she said sternly, “treat her well—or you’ll have to answer to me.”
“Yes, Agnes,” Peter replied in a respectful tone.
“Okay then, I should leave you two alone to talk.” With that, Agnes was gone.
* * *
“You have something to tell me?” I asked nervously.
“Eve, your assignment has come through,” Peter stated.
“What?” I felt like I’d been sucker punched. “But … I’ve barely had any time to adjust to all of this!” My mind started racing. “I thought I wouldn’t get an assignment until I was fully prepared. Peter, I haven’t even completed my training yet. There is still so much for me to learn—to practice …” Fear crept up my throat, strangling my voice.
“Eve, the Council wouldn’t give you an assignment if they thought you weren’t ready. Obviously, we’ve done a terrific job with your training thus far—maybe too good of a job.” Peter forced out a chuckle, but his eyes told me a very different story; he looked worried.
“Besides, we still have a little time,” he continued, trying to sound optimistic. “Your assignment isn't scheduled to begin for a few more weeks.”
“Weeks? As in Earth weeks?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that? That’s, like …” I did the math in my head. “Peter, that’s less than a day up here!” I exclaimed.
“We have exactly twenty-two hours in Aura time.” He took a deep breath. “Lucky for you, we’ll just have to skip through some of the boring stuff and save it for a rainy day.” He smiled at me, but the look in his eyes made me nervous, even more so than I already felt.
“It’ll be okay,” Peter said softly as he walked over to me. He cupped my face with his hands and stared into my eyes. “I will do everything I can to make sure of it.”
* * *
“Even though we’re forced to postpone a portion of your training, we still have quite a bit to cover before your assignment begins.”
“Okay,” I said numbly.
“Originally, I had planned on telling you about our origins—of how and why the Shepherds came to be—but, considering the circumstances, I’ll save the history lesson for the end if we have time. It’s more important that we cover the Shepherd’s Rules that govern us; the Rules that we must follow without exception.” Peter walked over to the table and picked up the scroll I had seen earlier; he untied the red, silk cord wrapped around it and unrolled it gently. The musty smell of the aged parchment filled my nose.
“The Shepherds’ Rules have been transcribed on this scroll,” Peter informed me.
“Should I be writing them down?”
“You won’t have to,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Well, then how am I going to remember them? How many Rules are there?” I inquired.
“Ten.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I laughed. “Like the Ten Commandments? ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ Those rules?”
“Are you quite finished?” Peter was not amused.
“Well, what if I don’t remember them?”
“You will,” Peter reassured me. “In fact, you know the Rules already; they’re buried deep within the recesses of your mind. Once you review them, your memory will be refreshed, and the Rules will be as familiar to you as your name.
“By way of background,” he continued. “The Rules have been set forth by the Shepherds’ Council. They are not negotiable, and the consequences for breaking them can be quite severe—so review them carefully.”
Peter handed me the scroll; the parchment felt so fragile between my fingertips, like the wings of a butterfly. The ink used to handprint the Rules had bled into the raw fibers of the aged paper, making the text slightly blurry.
The Shepherds’ Rules
The following rules shall be known as the “Shepherds’ Rules,” as originally set forth and modified from time to time by members of the Shepherds’ Council. The Rules shall be observed by all Shepherds without reservation or exception. Any apparent or alleged violation of a Rule, as stated herein, shall give just cause for a formal Inquiry, during which the Council Tribunal shall investigate the act(s) in question and, if necessary, shall discipline the offending Shepherd accordingly.
Henceforth, a Shepherd—
Shall not knowingly seek out any information relating to his or her own mortal life or former living identity;
Shall have an ongoing duty to conceal our identities, existence, and mission;
Shall conduct him- or herself in the utmost discreet manner at all times while in the presence of mortals;
Shall not deliberately cause harm to come to any living creature;
Shall neither intervene in nor interfere with the life of his or her Assigned Charge;
Shall disregard the preceding Rule only if such intervention or interference is necessary to protect the life or welfare of said Charge, and said Charge shall suffer serious injury or death without such intervention or interference;
Shall be eligible for a new Assignment only upon successful completion of the previous Assignment;
Shall not be transferred, removed, or reassigned from an ongoing Assignment unless the Council Tribunal deems it absolutely necessary;
Shall not disobey any Rule set forth herein or any edict handed down from the Shepherds’ Council or the Council Tribunal; and
Shall not attempt to shield or in any way conceal his or her thoughts from the Council should those thoughts pertain to either his or her own noncompliance, or the noncompliance of another Shepherd, with respect to any Rule set forth herein.
I handed the scroll back to Peter, reciting each Rule in my head. He was right; as soon as I read them, they were committed to memory.
“So that’s it, huh?” I asked. “These Rules are the nuts and bolts of how to be a Shepherd?”
“There’s one mor
e thing you need to be aware of. Although not a Rule, per se, it is important.”
“What is it?”
“Shepherds cannot lie,” Peter replied.
“It’s against the Rules to lie—got it.”
“No. The issue isn’t whether or not we’re allowed to lie—it’s that we’re incapable of doing so.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay,” I said, somewhat dumbfounded. I couldn’t grasp the concept of what it would feel like to not be able to lie, but I took Peter’s word for it. “So the Rules-plus-one; it all seems straightforward enough.”
“I wouldn’t treat the Rules quite that casually if I were you. They may seem black-and-white on paper, but one can easily get lost in the shades of grey when it comes to their interpretation and implementation. Trust me.” Peter’s eyes darkened and he seemed to lose himself in his own thoughts.
I was just about to interrupt Peter’s train of thought when an unfamiliar figure materialized and slipped a thin, brown file folder into Peter’s hand. Peter read the piece of paper clipped to the front of the folder; he looked at the stranger standing next to him and a series of nods transpired between them. It was obvious they were communicating with each other telepathically, but since Peter was still blocking my mind, I wasn’t privy to their conversation.
“Are you sure?” Peter finally said out loud.
“Yes,” replied the stranger.
“Eve, wait here for a moment. I’ll be right back.” There was a sense of urgency in Peter’s voice that frightened me. Peter phased out, leaving me there with the stranger.
“Hi,” I volunteered. “I’m Eve.”
“I know,” the stranger said flatly.
Okay then, I thought. I decided to give it another try.
“And … you are?”
“Just leaving.” In a flash, the strange, antisocial Shepherd was gone and Peter rematerialized.
“Who was that?” I asked, annoyed.
“That was Sergei.”
“Well, Sergei isn’t exactly the poster child for social graces. He could definitely use a refresher course or two in elementary etiquette.”
“Yes, well, he’s never really been the outgoing type. He’s what you would call ‘all business.’ He works closely with the Council. Speaking of which …” Peter grew quiet and looked down at the file folder he had been given.
“Eve, your training is officially over. We have to leave—now. Your assignment has begun and your charge, your human, is in danger. His Exitus countdown has been moved up from a matter of weeks to mere hours.”
Peter grabbed my left wrist and held my watch up to my face. Sure enough the Incident Timer was flashing and the digital countdown had begun—T minus two hours in Mora time. I couldn’t believe it. This was crazy! There was no way I was ready to save a human’s life. My head began to swim.
Before I could protest, Peter grabbed my hand and teleported me to the edge of a remote cornfield in the middle of nowhere.
14. My First Assignment
“Where are we?” I asked, still trying to come to grips with what was happening.
“We’re in a field about forty or so miles outside of Chicago,” Peter responded. “I needed to get you down here as quickly as possible to slow down the Exitus countdown. Eve, we don’t have much time, so I need you to listen to me very carefully. It is customary for Shepherds to carry out their assignments alone. That said, your training was cut short; you’re not equipped with a full working knowledge of what’s in your bag of tricks. Accordingly, the Council has agreed to let me to come down here with you this once. But I’m here to shadow you; I’m not supposed to assist you in any material way. Nevertheless, I think my being here will help you—not that you’ll need it, of course.” Peter smiled at me, but I was too nervous to return the gesture.
“What if I can’t do this?” I squeaked.
“You’ll do just fine,” Peter said confidently. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this long enough to know what I’m talking about … Besides, you’ve got me as your number one fan cheering you on the whole way.”
“Is that your idea of a pep talk?” I asked, crinkling my forehead.
He just smiled.
“Well, thanks.” I flashed Peter a little smirk as I nudged him with my shoulder.
Peter handed me the thin brown file folder. I glanced at the slip of paper attached to the front cover:
Assignment: Thayer M. Harrison
Location: Chicago, Illinois
Age: 20
Incident: One
Shepherd: Eve
“Thayer Harrison,” I read aloud slowly. I looked up at Peter. “He’s my assignment?”
Peter nodded affirmatively.
“How do I find him?”
“You and only you are intimately linked to your charge,” Peter replied.
“What do you mean?”
“Our pulse serves an additional purpose—one other than what I described to you earlier. For the duration of your assignment, your pulse will no longer mimic the ticking of the Time Keeper. Your pulse will now echo the heartbeat of your charge.”
“What? … Why?” I asked, bewildered.
“Having your pulse linked directly to his will not only help you locate your human whenever necessary, but it will also help you connect with him … understand him better. You’ll always know how your charge is feeling by the pounding of his heart. When he’s scared, his heartbeat will quicken … and so will yours. When he’s resting, his heartbeat will slow down … as will yours. It’s quite amazing, actually—almost intimate at times.”
“Huh, a human heartbeat to call my very own.”
“It’s temporary, lasting only through the duration of your assignment. It’s more akin to borrowing a piece of his heart.”
“Well, what if his heartbeat … stops?” I asked nervously. “Will mine stop too?”
“No. But make no mistake, Eve, protecting your charge’s life at all costs is expected. After all, it’s your job. His survival is essential, and the consequences for failing to do your job can be quite grave,” Peter cautioned.
“Great. Just add a little more pressure why don’t you,” I scoffed. “Any other brilliant words of advice?” I asked.
“Yes, actually. The disparity between Aura and Mora time is too great. Therefore, it’s best that you stay down here on Earth as much as possible while on assignment. If you don’t, if you choose to watch your charge from our realm, you’ll risk missing something that could mean the difference between life and death for your charge.”
“Got it,” I replied numbly. Immortality, Shepherds, demons, charges, life-or-deaths situations, other realms—this was so beyond surreal.
“Oh,” Peter continued, “and remember to locate your human in your ethereal state—and do your best to remain invisible throughout your entire assignment. It makes things less … complicated. Charges are not supposed to see their Shepherds; it puts us at risk of attack and exposure unnecessarily. Making yourself visible is acceptable only in emergencies.
“Hopefully, you’ll have a little more time to prepare for future attacks on your charge. In fact, in an ideal world, we would be able to prevent any Incident that threatens our charges well before the danger occurs. But life is far from predictable, and we rarely get much in the way of advance notice. So you must always be prepared to save the day in the knick of time.
“And in moments of uncertainty, call on your defensive strategies training. Remember, we are not allowed to deliberately hurt any living creature, meaning you can defend your charge with the blocking and disarming techniques Eli taught you, but you cannot purposefully harm another human or animal. If necessary, you can redirect the harm intended for your charge away from him and towards you. And if all else fails, you can place yourself in between your charge and the imminent harm and take the blow for him.”
“But … wouldn’t that mean I would have to become visible in front of my charge?” I didn’t underst
and; it sounded like Peter was contradicting himself.
“Yes, it does. But as I mentioned, visibility is only acceptable if the circumstances are extreme enough to warrant it,” Peter explained. He then took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “What I’m saying, Eve, is just make sure this Thayer person stays alive at the end of the day—that’s all you really need to do. The rest we’ll figure out together later.”
I nodded affirmatively. I took a deep breath and examined the farmland around us and wondered again why Peter had brought me here. Even though it was dark out, I could see the terrain around me clearly. I could hear the sound of leaves bristling in the night air and the crickets chirping for miles on end.
“Why don’t you look at your watch and see how much time we have until the First Incident is scheduled to occur,” Peter instructed.
I looked down at my watch; the Exitus countdown was running down … eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds … thirty-one seconds … thirty seconds.
“We have just over eleven minutes,” I noted.
“One last piece of advice,” Peter said, “always keep an eye on the time, but don’t rely on it absolutely. Your watch will provide you with the best approximation of when a life-threatening Incident will occur; but as you’ve already learned, our system is not infallible. We do our best with the information we have, but things change. We simply cannot predict with any certainty the precise timeline of events for the humans we are charged with protecting.
“With that said,” he sighed, “we better locate your human.” Peter looked around as if he were trying to find my charge hiding in the field. “Even though we’re considerably beyond city limits, we still should be close enough for you to find him with relative ease.” Peter pointed his finger towards the north where I could see the distant glow of city lights hovering over the horizon.
“Okay, Eve, pay attention to the sound of your pulse and focus on your human’s name. I’ll follow your lead.” Peter took my hand.
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