The Bringer (22 page)

“
I don’t need any help,” I cut him off, trying to project sternness into my weak voice, attempting to make my intentions clear, even though all I feel is edgy and worried. “I just want to go to earth and be with James.”

“
I do understand how you’re feeling,” he says softly, fingering the lapel on his black jacket.

My eyes narrow onto him. “And just exactly how would you understand what I’m feeling, Arlo?”

He brushes his hair back, and stares at me with eyes full of regret. “I’m not who you think I am.”

I’m having a weirdly vivid sense of déjà vu here, this being not too dissimilar to my conversation with James, except now it’s me on the receiving end.

I can feel nerves creeping over me, so I steel myself. “And just who exactly are you?”

He doesn’t speak for what seems like a long time but, in reality, it’s probably only a matter of seconds. Anxiety quickly fills me up, and just when I don’t think I stand the silence anymore, he speaks.

“
I’m not a Bringer,” he says voice firm, sure. “I’m an angel.”

My eyes widen with disbelief.“What? You’re an – angel?” I feel totally blind-sided. “But I don’t understand. You can’t be. We don’t mix, angels and Bringers don’t mix. We never cross paths, never . . . and you’ve always been with me in Pure Land, with me . . .” My weak voice peters off.

Arlo sweeps his hand behind him, manifesting a bench. He sits down on it and motions for me to join him.

I shake my head. “No. I’ll stay where I am.”

His eyes fill with sorrow and I feel a huge twinge of guilt, obviously not enough to encourage me to move because I stay right where I am.

“
I don’t know where to begin,” he says dolefully.

I cross my arms over my chest. “The beginning is usually a good place.”

“
That could take me a while,” he chuckles softly, quickly drying up when he sees the unrelenting look of impatience on my face.

He leans forward, arms on thighs and gazes up at me. “I’ve never been a Bringer. I just made myself appear as one. I did it so I could be with you. I needed to be there to watch over you and that was the only way.”

Instinctively, I tense up. “And why did you need to watch over me?”

He presses his hands together, palm to palm. “Lucyna, you have what you could call . . . a complicated past and I don’t really know how to tell you all of it without –”

“
Just get to the point, Arlo” I hiss, surprising myself at how incredibly harsh I sound. And I can tell he’s surprised too, by the look on his face.

“
Are you sure?” he asks calmly. “Are you sure want to know everything?”

His green eyes are fixed onto mine and I don’t look away, can’t look away. It’s like we’re locked in a game of truth or dare, and the first to look away is the loser.

I hold myself firm. “Of course I do.”

“
Even though there may be things you would rather not hear?”

“
Yes.” I gesticulate, impatiently. “Just tell me.”

“
As you wish.” He spreads his hands out and rests back against the bench. “You used be an angel.”

If I thought I’d been blind-sided before, this definitely champions it.

“
I was an angel?” I can barely get the words out.

He nods. “Yes. We were close friends. And for a very long time we resided together in Heaven, with all the other angels, of course.” He glances at me knowingly before continuing, “And there are many of us, Lucyna. Mainly we are of God's initial creation, but sometimes a lower being will have served for the greater good and be given the privilege to rise up and be anointed as one of us. It does not happen often and when it does it is truly an honour of the highest degree.” He leans forward. “And that’s where Arran comes in.”

“
Who’s Arran?” I manage to ask, even though my mind is such a jumble of thoughts I can barely focus.

“
He’s the angel you were in love with – and he loved you too, for a time,” he adds, seemingly oblivious to my internal affliction. “Or so we believed, but unfortunately, unbeknown to the rest of us – to you – Arran was unlawfully revealing himself to humans whilst on earth, well only one actually, a human woman –” His eyes flick to meet mine. “It happens, immortals falling in love with mortals. It’s rare but not impossible, as Arran proved – and as you well know.” He gives me a pointed look.

I instantly feel ashamed and very uncomfortable. I look down, away from his enervating stare.

“
Then one day, without warning, Arran told you he was leaving you, leaving Heaven. That he had fallen in love with this human and he was leaving to be with her.” I look up, instantly meeting his solemn green eyes.

“
You were devastated, Lucyna,” he adds.

I sink to the floor, suddenly feeling very weighed down. When I look up, Arlo is sitting there in front of me.

“
You tried to talk him out of leaving,” he continues, his voice speeding up, “but nothing could change his mind. And to place cruelty upon cruel, he made the wish on you, forcing you to make him mortal and send him to earth so he could be with his human. As angels, Lucyna, when a wish is placed upon us we have no choice other than to fulfil it – and you fulfilled his wish. It destroyed you to do so . . . and he knew that.” His eyes seek mine, locking onto them. He holds my gaze, projecting as much warmth as he can until I feel like I’m literally coated in it. “You weren’t the same after that day. It was almost as if something inside you had died.”

I feel numb. I bring my knee up to my chest and wrap my arms around it. I feel like I’m listening to someone else’s story . . . which to me I am . . .

“
Why don’t I remember any of this?”

For a moment he looks caught off guard, but then he calmly says, “I took your memories away.”

“
You did what?” My voice hitches up a couple of octaves.

His eyes harden and focus off somewhere else, as though he’s seeing another time, another place. “I only did what you asked of me,” he says, his voice slightly raised. “You told me you couldn’t bear the pain of losing Arran and you wanted me to take it away. You said you wanted me to erase your memory, remove everything and make you a Bringer so you would never again have to feel. I tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. I told you I wouldn’t do it, so you took it out of my hands and you wished it on me.” His hard eyes refocus back onto mine, sending a chill shivering through me. “You did to me what he’d done to you.”

His face is suffused with anger and, even though I know nothing of what I’ve done, I still find myself looking away, guiltily.

“
And when you did that,” he adds, a touch bitterly, “it was out of my hands, there was nothing I could do other than to fulfil it. So I erased your memories, turned you into a Bringer, and took you to Pure Land.” He shakes his head. “Not my finest hour but, like I said, not my choice either.”

I pull my other leg up to my chest and rest my head on my knees, avoiding his stare and gaze out at the grassy meadow that seems to roll on endlessly.

Everything is upside down and I have no idea what to think about first.

“
I couldn’t just leave you there, though,” he says, his voice suddenly soft but so very intense, “no matter how angry I was with you.”

And it’s the intensity in his tone that makes me look up at him.

He moves closer to me and takes hold of my hand, staring down at it. And I instantly realise this is the first time Arlo has ever touched me. I follow his gaze, no longer seeing what he sees, now only seeing my old sparkly self. My ability to feel his touch no longer there, back to the old desolate way I used to be. And all I feel inside is complete and utter sadness, mourning the loss of what I so briefly had.

“
You were my friend, Lucyna.” He sounds determined. “I had to do something, so I did the only thing I could and I stayed there with you in Pure Land and passed myself off as a Bringer too.”

I’m suddenly struck with a thought. I look up at him. “How did the Elders not know you weren’t a Bringer. They must have sensed you were an angel – and for that matter, why didn’t they question my sudden appearance?”

He smiles, a very regal smile, straightening his back as he does so. “I am an angel, Lucyna” he says in a condescending tone. “A higher being. We have great powers at our disposal. I can make myself appear as I wish.” He sweeps his hand down himself with a flourish. “Make anything appear as I wish. Neither the Elders, nor any of the Bringers, would have ever questioned our appearance because, to them, we had always been there.”

“
And just how long have we been there?”

He bows his head. “Three hundred years . . . and it was three hundred years of plain sailing. I didn’t even see what was happening to you until it was too late. I never saw it possible that he would come back into your life and –”

“
Who?”

“
Arran.”

“
Arran?” I say with confusion. “I don’t understand? When did he come back?”

He keeps his sorrowful, green eyes fixed on my blue ones. “James is Arran.”

And I’m fairly positive that for a moment, time actually stops as his words resonate through me.

“
What?”

“
It’s Arran’s soul that resides in James’ body. He just doesn’t know it – doesn’t know who he used to be.”

I pull my hand from his, ignoring the look of hurt on his face. “I don’t understand,” I repeat, voice trembling.

He sits back, resting on his hands. “When Arran eventually died in his mortal body all those years ago, he couldn’t gain access to Heaven as a normal human soul would because his soul was cast as an angel – he may have had a mortal body but his soul will always remain the same. That’s something only God has the power to change. And when Arran decided to abandon us, abandon Heaven, it meant he could never again access it.” He presses his hand to his chest. “So each time his mortal body dies, he is instantly reborn into another, he can’t just be left to wander earth as a soul. It’s been this way for the last three hundred years and he will continue to do so for all eternity.”

I sit in shock, struggling to comprehend what I’m hearing, unwittingly watching Arlo as runs his hand over his hair, mesmerised by the efficiency of his movement, following it until it finally finishes its journey resting back in his lap.

“
And you’re saying James knows nothing of this?” I ask not moving my stare, my voice sounding as empty as I feel.

“
No.” He shakes his head. “He has no idea. Arran’s soul only reawakens at the point of death, but as soon as he’s reborn he instantly forgets. That is how all rebirths work, even for human souls . . . well except they come to Heaven before rebirth.” He lifts a hand and unbuttons his jacket. “And for the last three hundred years your paths have never crossed. And, as I incorrectly assumed, why would they ever? Out of all the soon-to-be seven billion humans on earth, it was very unlikely that you would ever meet. Well, currently, it would have been a . . . one in, six point eight billion chance to one, to be exact.”

My head is buzzing with all this information. It’s just too much. It can’t be true. I don’t want to listen to this anymore.

I jump to my feet. Arlo looks up at me startled.

“
I don’t believe you,” I say resolutely, admonishing him with my hand. “I don’t believe any of this.”

He looks stricken. “Why would I lie to you?”

“
How should I know?” I say bitterly. “Apparently you’ve been lying to me for the last three hundred years so . . .”

Anger skims his brow and he lithely gets to his feet. “Right. Fine,” he says in a controlled voice, re-buttoning his jacket. “You can just see it for yourself then.”

He starts to move toward me.

“
What are you doing?” I say, holding my hand up, taking a big step back.

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Calm down, Lucyna. I just meant I’ll return your memories to you, then you’ll know the truth for yourself. I can also return you to your angelic form if you wish?”

“
You can do that?”

He looks at me as though I’ve just asked the most stupid question ever. “Of course I can. All you have to do is wish it and it’s done.”

“
As easy as that?”

“
As. Easy. As. That,” he affirms.

I think quickly. If what Arlo is saying is true, then is this what I want? Do I really want to know who I used to be? I must have been in an inordinate amount of pain to want to forget it and never feel again.

But then that also means I’ve spent the last three hundred years hiding from who I truly am.

I look at Arlo. He has his arms folded across his chest and the impatience is clearly stamped on his face.

I don’t want to hide anymore.

“
Okay,” I say tentatively. “Change me back and return my memories, Arlo. I wish it so.”