After Marco disappeared around a corner, Eran turned to me, drawing in a deep breath. “I felt your radar go off,” he explained.
“I figured,” I said, now smiling. ““How did you get out of class?”
“Excused myself for the bathroom. And you?”
“Oh…me?” I scoffed, now slightly perturbed by Ms. Johnson. “I made my first sculpture…which I’m fairly proud of despite what it depicts.” I lifted it to show Eran, noticing I’d squeezed the moist clay arm where I held it into an odd shape during my moment of panic.
Eran’s face suddenly contorted, erasing any sign of encouragement and replacing it with concern.
“It’s a Fallen One…” I explained, not understanding how he failed to distinguish it. “I mean, except for the teeth and fingernails.”
“Those aren’t fingernails,” Eran said, tensely. “Those are claws.”
“Sure, if you want to put a fine point on it…”
“No, Magdalene, they truly are claws.”
I studied him. “What are you not telling me?”
“You’ve sculpted an Elsic, Magdalene.”
“I’m sorry…A what?”
“An Elsic,” said Eran, glancing around to ensure we were still alone before continuing his explanation. “Over the time Fallen Ones spend incarcerated, many of whom have been imprisoned for centuries, they change…they morph. Living underground, off each other, and only in the presence of pure evil they become darker, if you can imagine that. Their evil transforms them…They can no longer pass as humans, by appearance or by behavior. They’re far too…” he paused to search for the best description, “sinister. It isn’t simply their bodies or motives that transforms…It is their soul. They become so malevolent that those who die at the hands of an Elsic are sent to eternal death.”
“Eternal death?” I asked. “I thought only Fallen Ones had that ability and that their ability only applied to me. You’re saying these creatures…these Elsics have this ability too?”
“Yes, but with the Elsics, their ability applies to everyone, mortal or otherwise. As Fallen Ones, this power only applies to messengers…to you specifically. Yet, as they transform, their power develops, it increases to include all living things.” He paused and then asked curiously, “How…How were you ever able to create their likeness when you haven’t seen one?”
“I have seen one…in my past life…in London.”
“You’ve been visiting your past lives?” he asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Segments of them, the more important times in those lives. That’s how…That’s how I saw the Elsic. I watched you kill one on a London street.”
His gaze dropped as he nodded reflectively. “Yes, that one escaped from the prison. I remember it well.” He drew in a breath and brought his eyes back to me. While mine were wide, his were pensive.
“Eran, is there a problem with me reviewing my past lives?”
Eran’s face contorted into a multitude of emotions from trepidation to sorrow to compliance. I got the distinct feeling his mind was running through the memories of those lives. “If you wish to watch your past lives it is your choice but prepare yourself, Magdalene. Your journeys have been…challenging to say the least. Not all of your experiences are pleasant.”
I snickered at his understatement. “Yes, I’ve already figured that out.” I paused for a second, considering whether to ask my next question until I realized that what I’d learned of myself during my past lives was too important to dismiss.
“There is one thing that I can’t seem to figure out though,” I said. “Every time I’ve died…so far at least…I-I never came back. I never fell back to earth after I took my last breath. It doesn’t make any sense…leaving you here…on earth…alone.”
“Fair question,” he stated plainly, though he didn’t appear overly eager to answer it. His lips turned down briefly as he glanced down the hall without really looking at anything in particular. “It was decided long ago that should a messenger die at the hands of their own guardian they would be unable to return to earth immediately. This is a precautionary measure as it was assumed that should a guardian take the life of the one they are guarding it is because the messenger is at risk of dying at the hands of a Fallen One. It is a last resort, of course, but should it happen as it has with us…” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the memories of these instances, and then continued. “Should it happen, should a guardian take the life of those being guarded, it is deemed that to return to earth immediately would be unsafe and thus you are barred from ever doing so.”
“Who decided this?” I asked, stunned at the shortsightedness.
“You,” he replied and then wavered. “Well, I brought it up and it took some convincing to get you to agree.”
My mouth fell open. “I can’t,” I muttered. “I can’t believe I would ever agree to that…that restriction.”
“It is for your own good.”
“Is that what you told me when you were convincing me?” I asked, irritated.
“Yes,” he replied without regret. “It really is for your own good, Magdalene.”
“Regardless…” I said, appalled at myself. Mentally shaking off this unwelcomed news, I needed to clarify these parameters. “So…if I die at the hands of a Fallen One I suffer eternal death. If I die by the hands of my guardian…you…then I suffer timeless bliss.”
“Correct.”
“And every life up until this one, I have died by your hands…by your actions?”
He nodded slowly, uneasy. “All but the first one when you died of age. Have you…have you been through your life in America? In Pennsylvania?”
“Not yet. I’ve been working my way up the list. I still have my life in Paris and then in Gettysburg.” I watched him closely. “Why? What happens in Pennsylvania?”
He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it. After a moment of thought, he spoke cautiously. “I think you’ll need to watch it for yourself.” He said nothing more, the concern etched in to his expression telling me that he preferred not to recall it.
I was certain that if he had the choice he would prevent me from seeing it and whatever tragedy he refused to recount for me. Always, his primary instinct was to protect me. My instinct was to learn and I’d already decided that I would finish reviewing the list entirely, including a visit to Pennsylvania where I would learn about the tragedy too horrible for Eran to describe.
CHAPTER TWELVE: TRAINING GROUND
For the remainder of the day, as Eran walked with me between classes and sat with me at lunch, he didn’t bring up the subject of me visiting my past lives again. Still, I had a lingering feeling that he was anxious about it. Instead our discussions were limited to class assignments and our hesitancy at tasting Felix’s salmon meatloaf pie at dinner.
Our drive home was even slower, as if Eran was reluctant to get me any closer to my room where I’d eventually fall asleep and return to reviewing my past lives.
After Felix’s unappetizing but nutritious dinner, Eran and I stood at the back porch as was typical when he was preparing to leave for his nightly mission.
“Where are you going this time?” I asked as he removed his shirt to make way for the emergence of his wings.
His muscles rippled seductively in the shadows, causing my breath to catch in my throat. No matter how often I watched this scene unfold before me, I never tired of it.
“I try to keep the details of my missions to myself,” Eran said, handing his shirt to me. “I don’t want to worry you.”
“I worry anyways.”
“Yes, Campion has mentioned it,” he said, his wings expanding now behind him. They shuttered, as if to shake the stiffness from them, and settled down against his back.
“The little spy…” I grumbled.
Eran laughed lightly and then pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “He’s only keeping me informed.”
“I know…” I said my voice muffled with my head tucked in the crux of his shoulder. I tightened my hold, enjoying the feel of his solid body against mine. “Wherever you go tonight, just be safe.”
He pulled away to kiss me, quick but deep. Then his wings pumped and he was drawn backwards still facing me.
“I will be safe, my dear Magdalene,” he said, expertly hovering a foot above the ground with his gorgeous, trademark smirk.
“Showoff,” I muttered with a smile.
Hearing it, he winked. “Always.”
He spun around then and lifted up into the darkness.
I watched until he could no longer be seen and then went inside to tell Campion it was time for my next training.
The truth was my session at Ms. Beedinwigg’s home might prove to be just as dangerous, considering the training she made me endure last time. Secretly, I didn’t mind. As much as it was tiring, it was also exciting to test myself against her contraptions.
I’d now seen how the Fallen Ones fight. There were no inhibitions, no boundaries, and only the dedication to kill. With their skills, developed over centuries at battle, they were formidable enemies. I needed all the training I could get.
We arrived on time and again were escorted by Alfred to the training area below ground.
“Maggie…Campion,” she greeted and then launched right into another lesson.
She instructed me to sprint through the same contraption as last time and was as pleased as I was when I reached the other side with less bumps and scratches. My timing also improved, surprising me when the stopwatch confirmed it.
Leading me to the next contraption a few feet from the last one, she timed me, recording it on a clipboard, as I sprinted through this one as well. While the last test required me to stay on my feet, this one forced me to stay off them. I rolled, jumped, and slid along thin beams or risked being crushed by the levers. She seemed pleased with the results.
The remaining time was spent practicing on the balance board and avoiding her punches and kicks.
All in all, it was just as exhausting as the first session and I couldn’t wait to climb into bed. It always seemed that while my body stayed on earth throughout the night it recovered from the day, healing injuries or illness, repairing muscles and any aches – something I couldn’t appreciate more.
I awoke in the Hall of Records, as usual. Although unlike most other nights, I was not alone.
Sitting up, I stretched, though it was unnecessary here, and looked around.
I jolted after finding Gershom standing on the opposite side of the bench, facing the scrolls. It looked as if he was inspecting them.
“Nice to see that you’re up,” he commented casually without bothering to turn around.
He must have heard my movement, I reasoned. “Thanks…What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I figured I would say hello…visit the Hall of Records. I’ve never been here before, you know…”
“Really? I’m here every night…”
“Maggie, of course I know that,” he said, turning then to float over the bench and take a seat next to me. “That’s why I came. You haven’t been back to see me. I was getting worried. Are the Fallen Ones still arriving?”
I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “That’s right. I did tell you about the Fallen Ones and that upcoming battle.”
“Yes, you did and I’ve been considering a return to earth…falling to help keep you safe.” I knew he was being sincere despite the absolute agony Campion had warned of when falling.
“Gershom…” I said, astounded at the significance of his offer. “That is completely unnecessary. We don’t…We’re still waiting to see if the threat is even valid.”
“So Eran’s nightly missions haven’t turned up anything?” he asked, pensively.
“If he’s found anything he’s keeping it to himself.” I sighed. “He doesn’t want to worry me,” I explained.
Gershom laughed through his nose. “That sounds like Eran…”
“It does,” I agreed spending a moment to reflect on how protective Eran is of me in every possible way.
“So with Eran on nightly missions,” said Gershom, “what are you doing to keep yourself so busy? Why haven’t you been back to see me?” His brow lifted as he silently evaluated me.
“You won’t believe this…” I said with a chuckle. “I’ve been visiting my past lives.”
Gershom’s head snapped back in genuine surprise. “Well now, tell me what you’ve learned.
I then went on to explain each life I’d visited, how Ms. Beedinwigg and Mr. Hamilton had found me on earth and introduced the concept to me, and finally how I was now in the midst of being trained to defeat the Fallen Ones in a secret underground combat facility.
Gershom listened intently, laughing at times or shaking his head in amazement. In the end, he agreed, “You have been busy.”
I nodded. “Next past life to visit is Paris, France.”
“Then you’ll be running across Achan,” Gershom said, shivering from the memory of him.
“That’s what I suspect…”
“So…” he leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him, “now that you’re training on earth are you training here too?”
He asked the question as if it were a logical one.
“Gershom, how would I ever be able to train here? The facility is back there, beneath Mr. Hamilton’s house.” I rolled my eyes at him.
His brow creased in confusion and then his legs sprang back towards the bench. He was suddenly standing with his hands on his hips. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve never been to your home in the afterlife? You’ve never seen what you’ve created?”
I was now the one confused. “I have a home…here?”
Gershom laughed at me though I wasn’t offended. I agreed with him. I should have considered it.
“Where did you think you spent time in between phases on earth?”
“Well, in Eran’s heaven, his piece of the afterlife…his cabin. I figured it was both of ours…”
“The cabin he recreated here from your time together on earth in the Pennsylvania Appalachian Mountains.” Gershom summed it up nicely.
“Yes, that one.”
Gershom chuckled again. “You’ve never been to your own?”
“Nope…” I replied feeling very foolish now.
“Well, would you like to go?” he offered.
My chest tightened at the thought of it. “You’ve been there?”
“Absolutely.”