The Gift of Light: (Revised) (The Gifts Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter Three

“Knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ.”

1 Peter 1:18-19

New American Standard Bible

“For the Lamb, who alone is worthy!”

Battle cry of the angels

     Across Hook Pond from the senator’s mansion, the woman who prays continued her prayers in earnest. The Holy Spirit laid Bradley and his family on her heart. She knew nothing of the abuse and heartache the boy had endured, but Staniel knew Rebellion and Hate tormented the youngster. Gemma only knew he needed her prayers.

     A loud trumpet sounded in the sky above the cottage, warning Staniel that the demon host had arrived to try to stop Gemma’s prayers. Staniel would not abandon his post to join the others who must be gathering to meet the demons. His job was to guard Gemma.

     Liam led a small legion of warrior angels to the skies above Perry House. Azelius came with a legion of his own, but he couldn’t come onto the estate. The demon prince wished to make a show of force as he got a look at the angelic ranks.

     Liam addressed a warrior named Terrence.

     “Azelius is only trying to draw out our numbers. He knows he can not touch us here.” With a nod of agreement, Terrence looked at the edge of the estate where the demon ranks swirled over Hook Pond.

     “Our true numbers remain hidden in the trees and bowels of the main house, Commander.”

     “Go back and tell them to stay out of sight. Azelius can do no more than bluster at this point. I intend to hear him out so that I will have something to report to Michael.”

     As Terrence left to do as Liam ordered, Azelius moved forward to separate himself from the swirling black mass of the demon horde.

     “Liam, you are a brave warrior indeed to have met me with so few reinforcements.” He puffed out his chest and spread his wings wide to mock the twenty angelic warriors in the sky behind Liam. Azelius brought with him no less than one hundred of his most evil demon soldiers. In grand display, the swirling horde came to attention behind their prince. Weapons drawn and fangs bared, the demons made a fearsome sight.

     Liam saw the ploy for what it was and shrugged. “What is it you want, Azelius?”

      “The woman who prays. I want her to cease her prayers for my stronghold. The Steel family is mine by their own free will. You can have no interest in them. They are no threat to Perry House.”

     “The boy has not yet chosen, Azelius, and the adults are still Jehovah’s children before they are yours. They may still repent.”

     Azelius clenched his fist as his face contorted in rage. “They have been mine for centuries. They will not choose against me. I have given them everything. All their wealth and power comes from me. I will not allow them to choose otherwise.”

     “It is not for you to decide.”

     With a shout of triumph, Liam drew his long sword and lifted it to the sky as a bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, striking the tip. He whirled to face the demonic hordes and flicked the sword in their direction.

     The force and brightness of the lightning sent the dark minions scattering for cover. The other angels followed Liam’s example and shot bolts of light into the demon ranks until only Azelius remained.

     “I will strike at you and your human charges in any way I can, Liam. Be warned,” Azelius said, voice full of malice and spite.

     “It is written, Azelius, every knee shall bow, including yours.”

     The demon glared at Liam and made an obscene gesture before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

     Liam called his legion together. “We must send reinforcements to guard the Sims’s home and to protect Emily at all times.” As the angels prepared to do their commander’s bidding, they all raised their swords in salute.

     “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy,” they shouted in unison.

     “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy!” Liam returned their salute with his long sword raised to the heavens. “And greatly to be praised.”

     Early Saturday morning the girls returned to the cottage where Marta was anxious to try out her newly acquired sign language skills. Once she found out about Gemma, she was determined to learn, and kept Emily up all night practicing.

     They found Aunt Gemma in the garden, surrounded by nature, her easel and paints beside her. She worked with diligence and skill, recreating a part of Hook Pond that lay behind the estate. Emily took Marta’s hand and nodded. “We don’t want to startle her, so let’s make sure she sees us.” She stepped off the path, came into Gemma’s vision and waved. She ran to Gemma’s open arms, Marta right behind her.

     Gemma set her paints aside and began a silent but animated conversation with Emily. Marta tried hard to keep up with the conversation, but the sign language flowed so fast between them that she had no idea what they said.

     Beckoning her friend closer, Emily grinned and spelled out M-a-r-t-a to her Aunt. This part Marta did understand, and she slowly spelled out her response letter by letter.

     “Hello, Aunt Gemma. I am so happy to meet you.” She formed each letter slowly but perfectly, just like she practiced with Emily. Gemma knelt down in front of Marta and shook her hand.

     Marta gazed into the older woman’s face, so like her new friend’s, and sighed. The deep green eyes and light red hair. She wondered what it would look like loose on her shoulders rather than in its prim bun. The beautiful mouth formed a radiant smile, and Marta felt a deep sense of serenity and peace wash over her. It was easy to see why Emily loved her aunt so much.

     Slowly Gemma spelled out letter by letter to Marta that she was also pleased to meet her and how impressed she was with her effort to learn to sign so quickly. Soon the three of them settled into a conversation together about their adventures of the night before.

     Emily talked about meeting Marta’s parents and trying on all of Marta’s clothes.

     Gemma took in every word and helped Marta further hone her skills at sign language. Later, Gemma went back to her painting, and Emily took Marta on a tour of Perry House. They saw Liam at the front entrance to the main house and waved hello. He headed out to do some yard work, a bucket of tools in one hand and a rake in the other.

     With a wide smile, he advised Emily to take Marta to meet Mr. Perry when they toured the house. Emily led Marta up a wide staircase to the study. The door stood open, and she knocked on it, waiting.

     Mr. Perry sat in a large leather chair, bent over a stack of rather odd and old looking maps that covered his massive cherry wood desk. Behind him  stood an intricately carved cabinet with its doors open. Emily had never seen it open before. Aunt Gemma said it stayed locked up tight because it held Mr. Perry’s most important artifacts and documents.

     Emily could not resist a quick peek over Mr. Perry’s shoulder, but all she saw were shelves full of more old maps and some strange looking statuettes.

The old man looked up at the knock and a smile crossed his face as he took in his guests. Miles Perry was a distinguished looking man in his early seventies with a full head of thick white hair.

     “Come in, Emily.” He motioned her closer and his smile widened. “It’s about time you came to visit. I see you’ve brought a friend with you.” Marta stood in the doorway, shy and not wanting to intrude. Emily beckoned her closer as well.

     “Hi, Mr. Perry. This is my new friend, Marta.” Emily put her hands on Marta’s shoulders, nudged her forward and presented her to Mr. Perry. Marta extended her hand to the kindly old man.

      “I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.” Mr. Perry laughed as he took Marta’s hand in

his. “Don’t worry, child. I don’t eat young ladies such as you.” He winked at Emily, who covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

     “So tell me, Miss Emily, how is school? I trust you are adjusting and that your studies are going well?”

     Emily spent the next few moments telling Mr. Perry about her new school and how she and Marta had become fast friends. Mr. Perry asked about Marta’s family and mentioned that he’d met her father not long after the family moved to Hook Pond, a few months earlier.

     Finally, unable to contain her curiosity, Emily asked, “Mr. Perry what are all these old papers on your desk for? They look ancient.”

     “Ah, my dear child, they’re nothing but leftovers from an old man’s great adventures in his youth. You see, when I was a young man I had a great desire to find the renowned men of old spoken of in the Bible. I wanted desperately to find proof of the giants like Goliath.” Mr. Perry spent the next few minutes recounting the story of David and Goliath before he declared it too fine a day for young ladies to be cooped up inside, listening to a doddering old man. With a smile and a wave, he ushered them outdoors for some fresh air.

     After their visit with Mr. Perry, Emily took Marta up to the roof to the widow’s walk. In the distance, they saw Gemma still painting down by the pond, and Liam, occupied with lawn and shrubbery duties.

     “I love it up here.” Emily spread out her arms and leaned against the railing. “I can see everything for miles, and it feels like I’m flying.”

     Marta joined her at the railing. Arms outspread, she closed her eyes as the cool wind washed over her face. “Oh, yes. It feels like we’re flying together.”

     Back at the cottage, they sat in Emily’s room talking about their fun day. Marta asked about Mr. Perry, and how Gemma came to work for him.

     “Long before I was born, when they were just little kids, my dad and Aunt Gemma lived in an orphanage. The nuns took good care of them and when he grew up, they got my dad a job as a plumber. Best of all, they got Aunt Gemma a job here. Mr. Perry had a brother who lived here with him. His brother was deaf, and they needed a housekeeper who knew sign language. Even after his brother died, Mr. Perry wanted her to stay and so she did.”

     Emily finished her story just as Gemma knocked on the door and signed to the girls that their dinner was waiting.

     In the forest outside the cottage, the warrior angels continued their watch over Emily, Gemma, and Marta.

Chapter Four

“In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit

on all people. Your sons and daughters will

prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old

men will dream dreams.”

Acts 2:17

New International Version

     Three weeks after Emily started school she found herself adjusting very well. Marta became her rock and her mentor. The girls were rarely ever apart and Emily felt better than she had since her father’s death.

     Every day they ate lunch together at what they now thought of as their table. Bradley was still around, but hadn’t spoken to either of them since that first dreadful day when he threatened to get back at Marta for making him fall into the table behind him. In foiling his attempt at tormenting Emily, Marta had made an enemy.

     Staniel kept his vigil as Emily’s guardian angel, knowing that Liam and the others at Perry House guarded Gemma. He dutifully followed Emily to and from school each day, undetected by the humans around him. Silent and cloaked, he kept a close lookout for Bradley and the demons, Hate and Rebellion.

     As Emily and Marta enjoyed their lunch, Mr. Perry and Liam ran errands around town. The humans carried on with their daily routines unaware of the tension building in the spiritual realm. Liam felt the tension in the air, but the demons, noticeably quiet and alarmingly absent, shared nothing. This made him nervous as he scouted the town for any sign of Azelius and his minions. Something was brewing; he felt it.

     Mr. Perry spent some time at the local hardware store and while he visited with the manager, Liam shopped for gardening tools. As they left the store, Mr. Perry preceded Liam. The door slammed shut behind the old man, leaving Liam inside the store.

     Azelius appeared and shoved his long sword through the door handle, keeping Liam locked within. In human form, Liam could do little but watch in horror as a large demon horde swooped down from the sky and shoved Mr. Perry to the ground. Azelius growled at Liam through the glass door and disappeared. The whole scene took place in seconds.

***

     In the middle of class, a shiver ran up Emily’s spine. Mrs. Montgomery told her to go to the office; someone was waiting for her.

     She saw Liam and her heart skipped a beat.  “Liam, what’s wrong, is Aunt Gemma OK?” Fear welled up inside her.

     “It’s Mr. Perry. He had an accident and is in the hospital. I had to pick you up early so I can get back there.”

     “Is he all right? Is he hurt badly?” Emily stammered as her fear continued to rise. Liam gave her a reassuring smile.

     “Not to worry, he’ll be fine. He fell and bumped his head and needed some stiches to a cut. The doctor said he can go home in the morning after they monitor him for a bit.”

     Emily heaved a sigh of relief as she got into the car. Liam was distracted and seemed to be watching for something as he kept looking from side to side and over her head. She wondered what it was and then chalked it up to worry about Mr. Perry. She knew how much he loved the old man.

     Liam shut the car door on Emily’s side and pulled out his cell. It looked like he was making a call but he was really talking to Staniel.

     “I have Emily. You need to stay with Marta. Something is up, Staniel. Watch over her carefully.” Staniel hurried back to the classroom as Liam got in the car and drove away.

     About halfway to Perry House, a small demon shot out from behind a tree and landed on the hood of the car. It hissed at Liam through the windshield as it sliced a dagger through the hood of the car and into the engine. The car sputtered and died.

      “Pray now, Emily. Ask Jesus to protect the whole town.” Emily was confused, not seeing what Liam saw, but did not think about it. She bowed her head and prayed.

     “Dear Heavenly Father,” she began. “Please protect our town. In Jesus name I pray.”

     The demon jumped off the hood as if burned, and ran back into the trees. Liam turned the key, the car started with no problems and they made it home just as school let out.

     Marta, with Staniel at her side, headed to the spot where she always waited for her mother. She passed through the back doors and felt a cold shiver, but shook it off.

     Staniel threw up his blade. Before them stood one hundred of Azelius’ demon sentries. Marta was walking straight into a trap, but before Staniel could sound an alarm, Hate and Rebellion grabbed him from behind and began to pummel him.

     Marta kept walking toward the parking lot alone. As she passed a row of large bushes, Bradley jumped out from behind her, put his hand over her mouth and dragged her under the bushes with him. Marta fought with all her might, but Bradley seemed to have the strength of ten men.

      He was silent, but the gleam in his eye was deadly as he straddled her small body and pinned both her arms with his knees. He kept one hand across her mouth as he dumped a bottle of lotion hair remover over her scalp and rubbed it in with his free hand. Bradley held her down as he allowed the lotion to soak into her hair. After what seemed an eternity, the boy leaned down to her ear and whispered.

     “That’s what you get when you mess with me, you witch.” He rolled off her and ran away. Although Staniel was badly wounded, quick jabs from his dagger to Hate and Rebellion allowed him to free himself. He shot into the air and sounded the alarm. Angels came from all over the school and headed straight for the bushes where the demon sentries stood guard, but they were too late.

     Marta darted out from the bushes screaming as she ran to her mother’s car. Great clumps of long brown hair fell to the pavement as she ran for her life.

     Later that evening, Bradley hid out in his room as Marta’s father paid a visit to the senator. After Mr. Sims left, the senator called his son into his office. Their conversation was brief and one sided.

     “At considerable cost, I’ve made arrangements for you to attend a military school in Roswell, New Mexico. Pack your bags, you are leaving tonight and count yourself fortunate that I talked Mr. Sims out of pressing charges against you. I had to promise that you’ll never return to school here in Hook Pond.”

     The senator turned his back on his son, indicating he was finished with the conversation, and Bradley left the office.

     Unable to suppress a smile that turned into a grin, Bradley packed his bags. He was rid of his father, Marta got what she deserved and Emily’s destiny would just have to wait a bit.

      “I don’t want to pray for Bradley! I hate him!” Emily said, arguing with Aunt Gemma. There were no raised voices, just flying hands as they spoke in sign language.

     She wanted to pray for Marta to get better and for her hair to grow back extra fast. But pray for Bradley? Never! She’d rather he died a slow and painful death.

     “Listen, child.” Her aunt made her sit down at the kitchen table as she tried to explain. “What you feel and what you want is normal. I understand you are angry, but the boy is sick and needs help. We are all lost without the Lord’s forgiveness. This boy needs the Lord, Em, needs Him more than anything else. We have to pray for Bradley and forgive him. It’s the only way we can heal and help Marta to heal from this awful thing.”

     Later that evening, after Emily prayed for Marta then grudgingly for Bradley, she drifted off to sleep and the Holy Spirit sent her a dream.

    
Emily felt light as a feather as a curtain of fog lifted from before her eyes. She saw herself at age five as her father pushed her on a swing.

     “Higher, Daddy, higher,” young Emily shouted. “I want to go higher.” Her father obliged and pushed her higher.

     They were in a park on a warm spring day, and Emily remembered how loved and safe she felt basking in her Daddy’s full attention. Saturday afternoons had always been father and daughter time.

     This day was special because Emily had a burning question she wanted to ask her father. She wanted to know why all the other little girls in her kindergarten class had a mommy, but she did not.

    
The shy five-year-old finally worked up the courage to ask while sitting beside him at a pond, feeding the ducks.

     “Daddy, why did my mommy leave?” He let out a sigh as he pulled her into a warm embrace. He’d been expecting this question and had already decided to tell her the truth as best he knew it.

     “My darling, I don’t know exactly why your mother left. I only know that she wasn’t happy living with me. She loved you very much, though, and told me she did many times. Still, you are very blessed. You have me and your Aunt Gemma. We both love you more than you can imagine.”

     “I love you too, Daddy.” Emily hugged her father tight and did not need any more reassurance. She knew he loved her, and that was all that mattered.

     The foggy curtain descended again, and Emily seemed to float, shifting, moving around. When next the curtain lifted, she was in an unfamiliar place, a large home with great windows. She saw snow falling hard on a solid white frozen ground. In front of her a small boy, about five years old, cried.

     “I want my mommy,” he said through broken sobs as he sat at a kitchen table. Emily recognized the boy as a younger, softer version of Bradley Steel.

     A tall man stood next to the boy. He was quite handsome, but had a look of complete exasperation on his face as he nervously ran his hands through his thick blond hair.

     “Look around, Bradley. Your mommy isn’t here. As usual, she’s in re-hab. I swear if I didn’t need her father’s money and support to win this

election, I’d divorce her right now.”

     His father’s shouting only made the boy cry harder. Without warning, the man knocked the boy’s chair over backwards. The child slammed into one of the large windows and slid to the floor. He curled up in a ball as his father stood over him and continued his rant.

     “Stop being such a wuss. Your mother is worthless and doesn’t love either of us. We have to be strong. Only babies cry for their mommies, and my son is not going to be a baby.”

     The man walked away, leaving the boy on the floor in a crumpled heap. A dark image appeared in the man’s wake.

     Emily saw the dark shadowy figure lean over Bradley. It turned and a face of pure evil stared straight at her as the foggy curtain came back down.

     Emily awoke with a start, and sat up in bed.

     She was back in her room. The alarm clock beside her flashed 3:00 A.M. Her labored breathing returned to normal as she lay back on her pillow. The image of the dream swirled in her head as she tried to go back to sleep.

     Overcome with a range of emotions, sleep eluded her. The dream brought the loss of her father back to her with a painful, sickening jolt. She missed him all over again and wanted to hug him tight like she had in the park that day. She was also unsettled.

     The images of Bradley and his father bothered her. How could he be so cruel to his little boy? She had only known love from her father’s hand. Poor Bradley, he must have felt so alone and unloved his whole life, and that scary face, what was that? The frightening image of that evil face burned into her brain and sent a shiver down her spine.

     It never occurred to Emily to question the validity of the dream. She just knew in her heart that the dream was true. Tossing her covers aside, she got out of bed and onto her knees and began in earnest to pray for Bradley.

     At that same moment, Azelius, the demon prince, stood on his favorite perch on the roof of Senator Steel’s home. He had his face to the wind as he leaned on his sword with both hands. A sudden feeling of weakness overcame him and the sword slipped from his grasp, causing him to slide from the roof and fall to the ground. Somewhere someone was praying and forgiving, and it was making him weak.