The Hidden Deep (17 page)

The young Observer hummed and said, “He is lost, but he is not alone. God is never far from those who are His, and I can reach him in dreams.”

“You
talk
to him?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes.”

“Well, then why can’t anyone
find
him?”

“I do not know. Shimron says that a thing can be impossible until the time is right. We must wait until the time is right, and then Ephron will be returned.”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“I have hope.”

With a sigh, she looked off toward the barn roof. “I wish I could help with the search.”

Koji leaned closer. “Make your request known to God.”

“You want me to pray for Ephron?” Prissie asked.

He nodded seriously. “In this, you can do what I cannot.”

“You can’t pray?”

“Prayer is a gift given to mankind.” An expression of concentration overtook the Observer’s features as he tried to explain. “Between you and me, the communication is reversed. Your voice reaches heaven, and heaven’s voice reaches me.”

“God talks to you,” she recalled. “You can hear Him audibly.”

“Yes,” Koji confirmed.

“What’s it like?” she whispered.

“It is like God.”

Her brows drew together. “Can’t you compare it to something?”

The young angel scooted a little closer to her. “
Nothing
compares, Prissie.”

“Oh,” she sighed, feeling a little left out. “That must be wonderful.”

“Wonderful and terrible, all in one.”

“So God hears me, and you hear God, but I can’t hear God, and you can’t pray.”

“That is correct.”

“How odd.”

Koji tipped his head to one side. “I prefer to think of it as symmetrical.”

K
oji was singing a song about cider and swords, hedges and harvest, when Marcus dropped through bare branches on golden wings. The apprentice Protector took up a post on the roof of the pig shed and watched his teammate upend slop buckets into a trough. “Man, they’ll eat
anything.
”

The young Observer smiled, and his song changed to include pigs, pearls, and prodigals. When Tad moved around to the other side of the pen, Koji quietly asked, “Have you been Sent?”

“Nope. Jedrick has me patrolling so I can stretch my wings for a while.”

Nodding, Koji gazed curiously at the Protector, sure there was something more. Marcus snorted softly and jumped from the roof to the fence, hopping lightly from one post
to the next until he reached the boy. Using his wings for balance, he crouched down and asked, “What’s Prissie got against Ransom?”

“I cannot say,” Koji replied seriously.

Marcus scowled. “Her attitude is messing with his head.”

Tucking his chin to his chest, Koji softly said, “I have hope.”

“What have you noticed, Observer?”

“Prissie has been thoughtless, but Ransom thinks things through,” Koji explained. “Once he sorts out the mess in his head, perhaps he will hear the cry of his heart.”

With a sigh, Marcus muttered, “Amen and amen.”

On Saturday morning, Jude was unusually quiet. Tad was the first to notice, and he crouched in front of the listless boy. “Momma, I think you better take a look at Judicious.”

Grammie Esme peered over her glasses at the youngster and declared, “He’s a mite peaky, Naomi.”

“Green around the gills,” added Grandpa Carl with a solemn wink.

Jude offered a half-hearted smile at the attempts to cheer him up, but a thermometer quickly confirmed his fever.

Tsk
-ing in concern, Grammie turned to her daughter. “You’d best quarantine the boy, dear. Elsewise, your whole brood will come down with chicken pox. Or worse!”

“They’ve already
had
the chicken pox,” Prissie’s mother said calmly.

“Mumps!” suggested Grandpa Carl. “Measles! Scarlet fever!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Momma said with a smile.

Grandpa was just warming up. “Typhoid! The Black Plague!”

“
Honestly
, Carl!” Esme snapped. “Are you trying to scare the boy?”

“You know I was just joshing, right, little mister?” he asked ruefully.

“ ‘kay, Grandpa,” the six-year-old said.

The old man’s expression grew serious. “I’ll run you into town for medicine if it’s needed.”

“Let me call Jayce,” said Momma. “He can meet you at the pharmacy.”

“I’ll go along!” Prissie offered.

Koji stood. “Me, too.”

After being dropped off at the corner, Prissie and Koji hurried to the pharmacy, but just outside the door, the young angel hesitated, then grabbed her coat sleeve. “I will wait for you out here,” he announced solemnly.

“What?” she protested. “It’s freezing out here!”

“I do not feel the cold as you do,” he reminded in an undertone. “I will stay here until your father and grandfather join us.”

“Why?”

“This is where I have been Sent.”

“I thought you were supposed to stay with me?” Prissie argued.

“This time, I will wait.” With an encouraging smile, he said, “You will not be alone.”

“Oh, fine.” She marched into the pharmacy alone. On her way down the aisle, Prissie gave the case of angelic knick-knacks
a sidelong glance and nearly ran into someone she most definitely hadn’t expected to meet. “Marcus!”

“Yo, Prissie,” he replied with a smirk.

“What are you doing here?”

“Keeping a friend company,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder. To her dismay, Ransom was strolling their way. With a broad wink, Marcus said, “I’ll go hang out with Koji for a while. See ya.”

It wasn’t until her so-called nemesis stopped in front of her that it occurred to her that she didn’t know if Marcus had been visible or invisible. “Hey, Prissie,” Ransom said, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“You don’t have to be nice,” she muttered. He might have asked for half a chance, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to return the favor. The guy was supposed to be angry with her, and it bugged her that he wasn’t.

“I’m not being nice,” he corrected. “I’m being
polite.
You should try it sometime.” Prissie fumed inwardly, but Ransom kept the small talk rolling. “What are you doing in town?”

“My brother’s sick.”

“Which one?”

“Jude.”

“The little guy, huh?”

“Yes,” Prissie said and stepped past him. To her annoyance, Ransom followed her down the aisle. “What?” she snapped.

“I was kinda hoping to run into you sometime. I’ve got a few questions.” He was clearly unintimidated by her mood.

She wanted to run from this conversation, but at the same time, she felt obligated to face it. “Fine!” she growled. Flapping her hands in an impatient gesture of surrender she muttered, “Just …
fine.
Let’s get this over with.”

Ransom seemed amused, but he cut to the chase. “What don’t you like about me?”

That was simple. “Everything.”

“Right,” he replied blandly. “Can you be more specific?”

Who in their right mind asked to have their faults listed? While she was sure Ransom had loads, she was drawing a blank. Working up a scowl, she said the first thing that came to mind. “You make fun of me!”

“Still not specific enough.”

“You’re always contradicting me!”

“That’s because you’re
wrong
a lot of the time,” Ransom replied, quirking a brow. “Someone has to point out the flaws in your reasoning.”

With a huff, she retorted, “And you pick on me!”

“Since when?”

Thinking back to the day they first met, she said, “You tied my braids together!”

“Oh, yeah. I remember that,” he mused aloud. “Looks to me like the knot came out.”

“That’s hardly the point!”

“Really?” Ransom asked. “
Is
there a point to holding grudges?”

“Look, I don’t like you!” Prissie said, enunciating each word clearly.

“I don’t particularly like you, either.”

He said it without a speck of meanness, and Prissie was completely thrown off. Part of her wanted to lash out, to hurt him so he would go away, but she remembered the bitterness of that kind of triumph. Thoroughly confused, she asked, “Then why are we even talking?”

“Partly because you’re the boss’s daughter, which makes
you really hard to avoid,” he said. “Partly because you’re
different
when you’re hanging out with your conscience, and I can’t figure out
why.
”

“Koji?” she asked, startled.

“Yeah, where is he, anyway?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, he’s around here somewhere,” she said, waving vaguely toward the front of the store. Prissie was beginning to get the idea that Ransom was a little like Tad and a little like Zeke. Her biggest brother had to take things apart and put them back together before he felt like he understood them, and her younger brother was a bundle of questions, most of which began with
why
. Questions had a way of making Prissie uncomfortable, especially when she didn’t know the right answer. “Is that all?”

“No. There was one other thing.”

Just one. For a moment, she was relieved, but Ransom’s expression hardened in a way that made her squirm.

“You don’t trust ‘people like me,’ “ he quoted. “That’s what you said.”

Prissie blushed in embarrassment. “I already apologized for that.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you try to apologize? Did your dad make you?” This time, it felt as though Ransom was mocking her, but she couldn’t lie. When she gave a grudging nod, he shook his head incredulously. “Unbelievable.”

“He just wanted me to do the right thing,” Prissie said defensively.

“Because you did a wrong thing?”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Twisting my words around!” she hissed.

“
People like me
,” Ransom repeated. “What’s so terrible about someone like me? Because I sure don’t want to be like you. I’m not even sure
you
want to be like you.”

“Who
else
would I be like?” she asked in exasperation. The conversation was going in circles, and she was having a hard time keeping up.

“It’s been bugging the heck out of me that what your dad was
saying
didn’t look anything like what you were
doing.
He finally told me it’d be best to let God speak for Himself.”

“God only talks to angels,” she replied flatly.

“I’m talking about a Bible. Geez.”

Wait. “You read the Bible?” she asked in a hushed voice. The buzz of anger inside Prissie tapered off, which made it easier to hear what Ransom was saying.

“Yeah. Your dad gave me one,” he readily admitted. “I’ve been working my way through it for a couple months. It’s not like I’d jump into this blind.”

“Oh,” she replied weakly. Giving Ransom a Bible was definitely something her dad would do. But why would this guy bother reading it? Because he wanted to keep his new boss happy? She supposed it was possible, but … Prissie glanced toward the front door. Two members of Jedrick’s Flight—her best friend and Ransom’s best friend — had been Sent outside so this conversation could happen. Milo had said angels were attracted to eternal things. Didn’t that
mean
something? Maybe Ransom was serious. Maybe she should listen.

“So I want you to explain it to me.”

Prissie’s attention snapped back to her classmate. “Wh-what?”

“Christianity,” Ransom prompted. “Tell me what you believe.”

“Umm …” Prissie had never felt more clumsy in her life. “I’m not sure how to explain.”

“Isn’t that kind of lame? I mean, if you don’t know why you believe what you say you believe, how can you be sure you believe it at all?”

Prissie had tasted manna, flown with an angel, and stood in a garden bathed by heaven’s own light. If
anyone
could be sure, it was her. “Look,” she said seriously. “I don’t know the right words, but it’s really
real.
Make fun of me if you want, but I
know
that much.”

Ransom studied her face. “All right. Then I’ll tell you what I’ve figured out so far, and you tell me if I’m on the right track.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”

He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and started to rattle off the essentials. “The way it sounds to me is … I’m doomed because of the whole sin thing. The only person who can
un
doom me is Jesus. He’s willing to save me, mostly because He’s awesome like that.” Ransom quirked a brow at her, she nodded, and he went on. “Somehow, I’ll change. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like I’ll change into
you.
No offense.”

The basics of salvation had been paraphrased almost beyond recognition, but Prissie was ashamed to say that he was explaining it better than she could. One thing came across loud and clear. “You’re thinking about becoming a Christian?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” Glancing around the nearly empty pharmacy, he said, “It makes sense when your dad explains stuff, but I wanted a second opinion.”

“I could introduce you to someone who could say it all clearly,” she hastily offered. “Mr. Mercer wouldn’t mind …”

“But I’m talking to
you
, Miss Priss,” he cut in. “You’re the one who’s been making me wonder, so you’re the one I want to ask.”

“Oh,” she repeated lamely. “There’s lots of better people.”

Ransom snickered and said, “Now
that’s
something I never expected to hear from you.”

The full weight of her father’s words came back to her then, and Prissie’s shoulders sagged. Her behavior really
had
become an obstacle, and it had taken her dad’s prayers and the intervention of at least two angels to give her this chance to make some kind of amends. With her heart pounding, she said, “Umm, Ransom?”

“Yeah?”

Face pale and eyes steady, she whispered, “Sorry.”

He smiled crookedly and replied, “Y’know,
this
time, I believe you.”

T
amaes tread lightly upon the braided rug in Prissie’s bedroom. Hunkering down beside the bed, he studied his charge’s flushed face. “She has a fever.”

Harken’s voice was warm with compassion as it echoed through the Guardian’s mind. “There are some things you cannot protect her from.”

“True,” her Guardian said with a soft sigh.

“Come along,” urged the Messenger.

Drawing his sword, Tamaes took a seat on the floor; moonlight gleamed against the bared blade as he laid it across his knees. With one last glance at Prissie, he put his back to her mattress and shut his eyes. It was time to join the dream.

The sensation reminded her of the fleeting dream she’d shared with Harken at summer’s end. There wasn’t the usual fuzzy, disjointed feeling that accompanied most of her dreams, and as the moment of clarity solidified, fingertips brushed the back of her hand. “Prissie, can you open your eyes?” Koji asked earnestly.

She obliged and was startled to find the young angel kneeling before her in a dark place, a candle between them. That wasn’t right at all. “Is something wrong?” she whispered.

He shook his head and gave a small smile as he pushed his hair behind one ear. Suddenly, Prissie realized that Koji’s disguise was gone. His black hair hung loose around his shoulders, and his ears came to points. Even his old clothes were back, the cloth of his raiment shining as if it had a life of its own. “All is well.”

Glancing around, Prissie was startled to discover that while they were surrounded by darkness, it wasn’t pitch black. Stars glittered coldly around them. In a moment of panic, she looked down, but to her relief, she seemed to be on solid ground. They knelt together on a smooth surface that reflected the stars and the candle on the floor between them. Its flame was warm and gentle, and she felt safe in the circle of its light.

Prissie whispered, “I don’t know where we are.”

“You are sleeping,” he replied. “Harken let me come for you.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Indeed.” The young Observer rolled to his feet and picked up the candle. Extending his other hand, he said, “I have never done this before, but Harken promised to help. Take my hand, and do not let go.”

As they walked along, Prissie stared in amazement at the stars. They seemed nearer and brighter somehow, and they twinkled with flashes of color that dazzled her eyes. “What time is it?” she wondered aloud.

“We are leaving time behind.”

“For how long?”

He laughed softly, but Prissie didn’t know what was so funny. Before she could issue any complaints, a deep voice beckoned from somewhere just ahead. “That’s the way. You’re doing very well!”

“That was Harken!”

“He is meeting us partway,” Koji explained.

The Messenger strode into view, and he, too, was no longer in human guise. Harken stood tall and strong, without a trace of gray in hair that now hung in heavy coils. Gleaming raiment shone against dark skin that bore no wrinkles. “Hello, Prissie! I see Koji was able to reach you.”

“This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had,” she announced. “It’s so real!”

Harken’s laughter rang out as he slipped his arm around her shoulder. “That’s because it
is.
I’m really here, and the others are waiting for you to arrive. This way, please.”

Together, the angels guided her toward an archway from which light spilled. Abner leaned against the entrance, coolly watching their progress. Prissie offered the Caretaker a tentative smile. His lips quirked, but he addressed Koji. “Observer turned Graft turned Guardian turned Messenger? Will you be taking up a Protector’s sword next? Or shall I make a Gatekeeper out of you?”

Koji ignored the jest. “Thank you for opening a way, Abner.”

The silver-haired angel inclined his head. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Or perhaps the most,” said Harken in a teasing tone.

Abner clasped his hands behind his back and nodded distractedly. “It
is
an odd courtesy, for I cannot do any more or less than I am bidden.”

“Where are we?” Prissie asked curiously, trying to peek through the arch.

“
I
am here,” Abner replied seriously. “
You
have been caught up, though not so high as others have been.”

“So I’m not here?”

“Not in body,” the Caretaker clarified.

“Only in spirit,” Harken added. “Most people would call this a vision.”

“And this is the garden behind the blue door,” Koji said, letting go of her hand once she was safely through. “It was Baird’s idea to invite you.”

“What for?” she asked in surprise.

“
There
she is!” exclaimed the red-haired Worshiper as he hurried over, all smiles. “And clothed in white!”

Prissie’s flannel pajamas had been changed for raiment similar to that worn by the members of Jedrick’s Flight. Where the angels’ clothes were of a rich, creamy hue, her simple dress was dazzlingly white, and she touched the strange fabric with an awed expression. Although there was no hint of any embellishment, she was sure it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever worn. Prissie exchanged a glance with Koji, whose eyes shone with approval.

Kester, who had followed his mentor at an easier pace, quietly pointed out, “We cannot begin if you keep Prissie on the threshold for an eternity.”

“Yes, Myron,” said Abner as he stepped past them. “Don’t monopolize the girl.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! None of that! Let’s stick with
Baird
!”

“Myron!” called Jedrick from a short distance away. “Do you require assistance?”

From the lightness in the Protector’s tone, Prissie was quite sure he was trying not to laugh. Could angels joke around? It seemed a little irreverent, but a sidelong look in Baird’s direction showed that the Worshiper’s eyes were dancing with mirth. “Prissie, thank you for joining us!”

“I’m pleased to be here,” she replied with automatic politeness. After a moment’s hesitation, she whispered, “But I’m not really sure why I’m here.”

“A return of hospitality!” Baird said heartily. “We wanted to include you in our evening song.”

“S-sing?” she squeaked.

“Together.”

“Is that really okay?” Prissie asked, glancing at Kester.

“Most assuredly,” the apprentice Worshiper said, gesturing for them to join the rest of the Flight.

Koji and Harken strolled confidently across the soft grass, but Prissie’s steps lagged. Fleetingly hoping for escape, she looked over her shoulder, but the archway was gone. Only light-drenched woodland lay behind her. “How does he do that?” she whispered.

“He is a Caretaker,” Kester replied, as if that answered everything.

Tamaes stepped forward. “Do not be afraid, little one.”

“I’m not scared,” she muttered. “I’m embarrassed.”

Holding her gaze, Tamaes said, “No one who has gathered here will criticize your song.”

“I’m not a good singer. Can’t I just listen?” she begged.

Disappointment flickered across his features, but the Guardian nodded before saying, “I wish to introduce you to Milo.”

“But I already
know
Milo.”

Tamaes crouched down, and he chose his words with great care. “Prissie, what happened when you found out he was an angel?”

With a cringe of conscience, she replied, “I suppose I wasn’t very nice?”

Gazing toward the other end of the glade, Tamaes said, “Milo was my first friend within this Flight, and though you were
my
charge, we watched over you together. When he became a Graft, you were the first person he sought out.” With gentle words that touched her heart, the Guardian said, “I want to protect the friendship you have forged.”

“I’m not sure what you’re worried about. Milo and I get along okay. We made up.”

Tamaes quietly asked, “And if he changed again? Would you be upset?”

Prissie caught on and her eyes widened. “Does he have blue hair or something?”

“Would it matter if he did?”

“It would be silly to dislike someone just because of their hair,” she replied huffily.

Marcus chose that moment to saunter over, golden eyes bright with interest and a smirk on his face. “Glad to hear it!” He joined Tamaes in ushering Prissie amidst the slender trees.

Padgett nodded to her from his seat beside his mentor on the lush grass carpeting the glade. The pair looked like two sides of the same coin, with their long hair pooling on
the ground. Abner’s was a silver so luminous, it was almost lavender, and his apprentice’s was black with blue highlights. Their flock of little manna-makers swirled through the air around them, looking like tiny stars, so bright was their happiness.

Marcus casually remarked, “It ripped Milo up when you were snubbing him last summer. He was a basket case for weeks.”

“But that was ages ago!” With a small frown, she asked, “Do I need to apologize to him, too?”

“Nah,” the young Protector said. “Tamaes already told you, kiddo. He doesn’t want anything coming between you two again.”

Prissie wanted to stay friends with Milo, so there wasn’t a problem. Except they seemed to think there was one. And that worried her. “Is that
important
for some reason?”

“Yep. Because Milo is your mailman.”

She gave him a strange look. “You’re not making sense.”

“I know.” Patting her head, he said, “I’ll remind you later. Deal?”

She swatted at his hand. “If you say so.”

“Prissie,” Taweel greeted. Omri perched in his usual spot on his shoulder, one small hand grasping the tiny chain ran between the Guardian’s earring and ear cuff. The yahavim’s wings buzzed in a friendly way, but he stuck with his favorite companion.

Just then, Baird’s voice reached her ears. “You’re totally gonna be fine, Goldilocks. It’s not everyone who gets to make a third impression!”

“I’m
not
worried,” Milo grumbled. “You’re the ones making a big deal out of nothing.”

Tamaes strode forward to join the angelic huddle, and Marcus gave her an unceremonious shove in the right direction. She shot him a dirty look only to discover that Koji was still close beside her. He seemed as amused by the apprentice Protector’s rough manners as he was by her reaction. “What?” she whispered self-consciously. The young Observer merely took her hand and drew her the rest of the way forward.

“Prissie,
this
is Milo,” Tamaes said gravely.

“Obviously,” she murmured. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d known that Milo probably looked different when he wasn’t masquerading as the local mailman. The Flight’s fussing made it all too obvious that she’d hurt the Messenger by turning her back on him before. But there was no way she’d repeat that mistake. Not now.

Milo was still Milo, and he still ran his fingers through his hair when he was trying to think what to do. Only now, that hair was a mess of ash blond curls that fell well past his shoulders. He looked rather grand in his shining raiment. If he’d been wearing a blue cloak, he would have looked just like the prince in her favorite childhood storybook. With a confident nod, Prissie extended her hand and played along. “How do you do. I’m Priscilla Pomeroy.”

The Messenger stepped forward, taking her hand in both of his. “Miss Priscilla,” he greeted seriously.

Baird craned his neck to locate Jedrick. “Shall we begin, Captain? Everyone’s gathered and the greetings have been covered!”

“Isn’t there one missing?” Prissie asked, peering around the forest clearing.

“No,” Koji replied patiently. “We are twelve.”

“Didn’t you notice we’re Sent two-by-two?” asked Baird. “Mentors and apprentices come in matched sets.”

“Or mismatched,” teased Harken.

“I know that much,” Prissie said.

“Actually,” interrupted Jedrick. “Twelve names have come under my hand.”

“No, no, no, my friend,” Shimron said. “If we are twelve, then
eleven
names should be inscribed.”

Jedrick smiled at the white-haired angel. “I do not know the plans or purposes of God, but for the moment, I have
twelve
in my keeping.”

Abner stepped forward, curtly inquiring, “Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“Can I see?” eagerly asked Koji.

All of the angels drew closer as Jedrick drew his sword and presented its hilt for inspection. Koji pulled Prissie closer and showed her the blue stone embedded in the weapon’s pommel. Letters in a language she didn’t recognize were deeply inscribed in the jewel, and as he traced his finger over each line, he read off their names. “Abner and Padgett, Myron and Kester, Harken and Milo, Taweel and Tamaes, Shimron and I, Marcus and … Ephron!” he exclaimed. “Ephron’s name is still here!”

“We are thirteen,” Jedrick agreed.

“This is unheard of,” Shimron said, clearly baffled.

“But I’m glad to hear it!” exclaimed Baird. “Doesn’t this mean there’s hope!”

“Just so,” the elderly Observer agreed.

Koji turned to Prissie with eyes alight. “See? No one is missing!”

“Oh,” she mumbled with a twinge of disappointment.

Padgett unobtrusively slipped to Prissie’s side and laid a hand on her shoulder. His dark eyes searched her face carefully as the apprentice Caretaker inquired, “Who did you expect to be here?”

Some eyebrows shot up, some drew together, but every eye turned to Prissie, who was fiddling with the end of one braid. Flipping it over her shoulder, she lifted her chin and replied, “Adin, of course.”

And with that, everything fell apart. Light bent, and the forest tilted. A roaring filled her ears, and the dream began to swirl. Suddenly, Prissie felt as if she was falling, and with a violent start, she woke in her bedroom. The beautiful clarity of her vision was replaced by an aching head, a parched throat, and blankets that felt uncomfortably hot and heavy.

A large hand closed around hers, and she stared up into her Guardian’s wide eyes. “Adin,” Tamaes whispered urgently. “Where did you hear that name?”

Her bedroom door clicked, and Koji slipped inside, looking human once more and dressed in his pajamas. He padded over to the other side of the bed and gazed at her with a tense expression that frightened her. “I met him
ages
ago,” she replied. “He introduced himself.”