“Yes.”
In an instant, Prissie was curled into a ball, her face hidden in her hands. “I don’t like high places,” she confessed in a trembling voice.
Taweel’s arms tightened around her, offering silent reassurance. A moment later, Prissie felt something warm pat against her hands, and when she peeped between her fingers, Omri was waiting there, a quizzical expression of concern on his face.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Prissie muttered glumly. “You’ve got wings!”
She felt Taweel turn in the sky and glanced up at his outspread wings. They didn’t flap; instead, they shifted as if to catch invisible air currents. He wheeled slowly, gliding far above the trees. Finally, he spoke. “When the others have driven back the enemy, I will return to the earth. Until then, you
are
safe.”
Prissie stared up at him, and he met her eyes reluctantly. “I know,” she said softly. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’m not looking down.”
His gaze shifted self-consciously, and he replied with another vague grunt.
Glad for a distraction, Prissie coaxed Omri into her hands and cradled the pixie-like creature to her chest. He grabbed a hold of her thumb, hugging it fiercely and rubbing his cheek against its pad. She smiled at his antics, and he beamed up at her — quite literally.
“They get brighter when they are happy,” Taweel remarked.
“He’s humming, too,” she replied. “Does that mean something?”
“Omri takes great delight in fulfilling his purpose.”
Prissie frowned in confusion. “Isn’t his job to make manna?”
Taweel peered down at the little yahavim. “If you were hungry, he would feed you. Omri is responding to a more urgent need.”
“What?” she asked wonderingly.
The tiny angel looked expectantly into Taweel’s face, and the Guardian replied, “He knew you needed something to hold onto.”
By the time Taweel began his slow descent, Prissie had decided that yahavim were even better than kittens and wondered if Abner could be coaxed into loaning her one of his flock. The thought of pets suddenly reminded her of the reason why she was here in the first place. “Maddie!” she
gasped, looking fearfully into Taweel’s face. “I forgot all about Maddie! Jude will be heartbroken if I don’t bring her home!”
“Milo is the swiftest in our Flight,” the Guardian replied calmly. “He was Sent for her.”
He angled his wings, and they dipped lower, skimming over the tops of trees. Prissie squeezed her eyes tightly shut and didn’t open them again until Taweel traded his smooth gliding for a measured stride upon solid ground.
When Prissie opened her eyes, the first person she spied was Milo, whose jeans bore an impressive grass stain. Maddie was tucked securely under his arm, and he hurried toward them across the meadow. “Miss Priscilla!” he exclaimed. “I see you’ve met Taweel.”
She nodded numbly as Taweel set her on her feet.
At that moment, two more angels strode out of the trees to join them on the edge of the field, and she gasped. Like Taweel, the newcomers were unusually tall, and this time, there was no mistaking them for anything other than angels. Both had their wings unfurled, though not extended for flight. Shifting mantles of light trailed behind them like capes.
Prissie edged a little closer to Milo just as Omri wriggled free of her grasp and darted forward to intercept the oncoming figures. The little yahavim flew in dizzy loops that seemed to be a greeting. “Who are they?” she whispered.
“You can see them?” he asked in surprise.
“Obviously,” she muttered.
“Jedrick and Tamaes,” Milo answered simply.
They approached with swords in hand, alert gazes sweeping the landscape, which seemed peaceful enough to Prissie. The taller one’s well-muscled arms were bared and probably would have been tattooed if his vibrant green wings hadn’t
been on display. Light brown hair streaked with gold was cropped short except for a single lock, which hung in a braid over his left shoulder. When they reached her and Milo, this stern-faced warrior gazed down at her with piercing eyes — green flecked with gold. “Are you well, Priscilla Pomeroy?” he demanded in a surprisingly gentle voice.
“I’m fine … thanks to Taweel,” she replied a little nervously. These new angels were really very intimidating.
“Miss Priscilla, this is Jedrick, our captain,” Milo introduced.
“You have been causing quite a stir,” the leader remarked.
She looked around in confusion. The sky was blue, the grass was green, the sun was high, and the shadows were few. “I don’t see anything dangerous,” she ventured.
Jedrick sheathed his sword and said, “Be grateful you cannot see. The Fallen are fearsome, twisted creatures.”
“They’ve been driven back for the time being,” Milo explained quietly.
“Is everything okay?” Prissie timidly asked the mailman when the three warrior-like angels drew aside to compare notes.
The Messenger’s usual smile was tainted by sadness. “No, but you’re safe, and for that I’m grateful.”
She tugged at his sleeve and immediately felt childish, but Milo and Maddie were the only familiar things in the midst of strange people and stranger ideas. Clinging to the safety he represented, Prissie whispered, “Have these guys been around the whole time, and I just couldn’t see them before?”
“Something like that,” Milo admitted. “They’re members of our Flight.”
“Is that like a team?”
“Yes. Each team is comprised of a Flight of angels,” Milo confirmed.
“These guys don’t look anything like you and Harken, or Baird and Kester.”
“No, they wouldn’t. They don’t need to fit in. They need to fight.”
“Taweel said he’s a Guardian, but he’s not mine,” Prissie shared.
Milo nodded patiently. “That’s right.”
“Whose is he?”
“That’s not my story to tell,” the Messenger replied gently.
“Oh, so, what about him?” she asked, nodding toward Jedrick. “Is he a Guardian, too?”
“Jedrick is a Protector — a warrior who battles against the Fallen,” Milo explained.
“What’s the difference?”
The Messenger considered, then replied, “Focus, I suppose. A Guardian concentrates on his charge, but a Protector’s eyes are always searching for the enemy.”
“Enemy? Do you mean the Fallen?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’re saying that there were demons here?” she demanded, her voice rising.
“Yes, Miss Priscilla, there were.”
“Why?”
Jedrick approached and answered for the Messenger. “That is not entirely clear.”
“But you’re in charge, so shouldn’t you
know
?” she argued.
“I am neither all-seeing nor all-knowing.”
“But aren’t you guys well-connected with someone who is?”
The captain met Prissie’s defensive gaze with a serious expression, and Prissie wondered if she had pushed too far. However, he calmly answered, “We were given as much as we needed to know in order to do that which we were Sent to do.”
“And what was that?” she asked more meekly.
“Protect you,” Jedrick replied.
“And catch Maddie,” added Milo.
“Oh.” Prissie peeped toward the other warrior-like angel. His auburn hair was sleek and straight, falling well past his shoulders and arranged so that it partially obscured the long, jagged scar that ran down the left side of his face. His armor was similar to that worn by his companions — fitted leather studded with metallic disks that gleamed dully in the sunlight. His wings fell from his shoulders in mingling shades of bittersweet and amber.
Milo guided Prissie over and announced, “And this is Tamaes.”
He stepped forward, and after a moment of quiet consideration, Tamaes silently extended his hand.
Prissie offered her own, and as he gently grasped it, a soft smile played at the corners of his mouth. His reddish brown eyes gazed down at her with such warmth, she needed to look away, so she stared instead at the large, sun-browned hand enfolding hers. With a small squeeze, he said, “Do not be afraid.”
She glanced up, then realized that everyone was watching the exchange with keen interest. “I’m not,” Prissie protested, looking to Milo for support. He nodded reassuringly, and she fully faced the angel holding her hand. “Were you hurt?”
Tamaes brushed his fingers across his marred cheek. “A long time ago.”
The scar looked terrible, and Prissie hesitated to ask her next question. “How were you hurt?”
“I was defending someone precious.”
Milo helpfully explained, “Though his teammates are always close by, a Guardian is sometimes called upon to battle a Fallen to protect his charge.”
“You’re a Guardian, too?” she asked glancing toward the gruff angel who’d caught her.
“Yes,” Tamaes said. “Taweel is my mentor.” He dropped his gaze. Releasing her hand, he stepped back and rejoined the other two warriors.
For the next few minutes, Prissie couldn’t shake the feeling that the auburn-haired angel was looking at her, but eventually, she decided that he was studiously
not
looking at her. None of the others were paying her half as much attention, and they had no trouble meeting her gaze. It was strange. Either Tamaes was incredibly rude or incredibly shy, and she suspected the latter. Also, there was something vaguely familiar about him, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Finally, Prissie nudged Milo and whispered, “What’s
with
him?”
The Messenger looked at her in surprise, then realized what she meant. With a chuckle, he confided, “Guardians are notoriously bashful. I suppose it’s too much to expect him to speak up on his own. Come on.”
Adjusting his grip on Maddie, he led her back to Tamaes, who apparently knew what was coming. He murmured, “Thank you, Milo.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, placing his hand on the Guardian’s shoulder before turning to Prissie. “I wish I had the words to convey to you just how momentous this is.
Meetings between people and Messengers are rare enough, but this is such a precious thing.”
“Milo, you
already
introduced us,” Prissie muttered, feeling awkward.
“Yes, but I left out the important part!”
A tiny suspicion stirred in her soul, and she looked up into the Guardian’s eyes, searching for confirmation. Milo didn’t even need to say it before she
knew.
“Miss Priscilla, Tamaes is
your
guardian angel.”
Milo escorted Prissie back to the edge of the fairgrounds, where Grandpa and Jude anxiously waited. Her youngest brother whooped for joy as soon as he caught sight of Maddie. Grinning toward the sky, he called, “Thank you, God!” and came running to meet them.
“You should thank Milo,” Prissie chided.
The mailman chuckled and said, “It’s all the same to me.”
Still, Jude gave Milo’s leg a fierce hug, then squeezed his sister for good measure. Prissie glanced around. “Where’s Ransom?”
“Him and Marcus had to go,” the little boy replied.
“
He
and Marcus,” Prissie automatically corrected. It didn’t surprise her at all that she’d been abandoned in her time of need. Marcus was practically a stranger. At least Ransom had gotten her message through.
Grandpa beckoned the mailman over so they could get Maddie back into her cage for the ride home. Jude followed Milo, not wanting to stray far from his beloved chicken, and while they were busy, Koji stepped forward. It occurred to Prissie that he was being unusually quiet, and she wondered
how much he already knew about what had happened on the ridge. At a loss for what to say, she settled on an awkward, “Hi.”
“Prissie?” he began, gazing at her with his hopeful expression. “May I express my relief as well?”
“I … guess.” If she’d known what he meant, she probably would have refused, but an instant later, it was too late. Koji’s arms wrapped around her, and he hugged her even more tightly than Jude had.
“I was afraid,” he confessed, his face hidden against her shoulder.
Could angels be afraid? Apparently so, for the young angel was trembling. She tried to reassure him, awkwardly patting his back. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“If you had seen what I saw …” he protested, shaking his head. “Shimron told me that friendship would bring both joy and sorrow, but I did not understand until now. It has never been so difficult to watch and wait!”
Prissie gave in and hugged Koji back a little. “I’m obviously safe. Nothing bad could have happened. Not really.”
Just then, Milo placed his hand on Koji’s head and ruffled his hair. “We’ll be along, Pete,” he called.
Prissie looked helplessly toward her grandfather, who was ready to head to the truck. Grandpa Pete harrumphed as he always did over open displays of affection before leading Jude away.
Koji reluctantly released Prissie and urgently met her baffled gaze. “You saw some of our warriors, didn’t you? Do you think they carry weapons for no reason? The threat is as real as we are!”
“I think I’m ready to go home, now,” she announced.
Looking from one to the other, she repeated. “I want to go home.”
Koji closed his mouth and lowered his eyes, and Milo quietly replied, “I understand.”
Prissie nodded briskly and turned her back on the whole frightening morning.
J
edrick gazed down at Tamaes, who sat upon the sloping roof just beyond the bright pattern of colors created by the light shining from Prissie’s bedroom window. “You seem rattled,” the Protector remarked.
The Guardian stared at his hands, which were loosely laced before him. Eventually, he dipped his head. “A little.”
“This is the second time you were able to meet Prissie.” With a faint smile, Jedrick remarked, “I remember how dismayed you were the last time.”
Tamaes huffed in amusement. “She cried.”
“And this time?”
The Guardian ducked his head and softly said, “She smiled.”
Choosing a seat beside the other angel, Jedrick frankly
broached, “There is said to be a danger amongst Guardians. When they place too much importance on their charge, they lose sight of God.”
Leaning back to gaze into the spread of stars overhead, Tamaes lightly traced the scar that cut down his right cheek. “I am well aware of this, Captain.”
“I know,” Jedrick acknowledged. “However, I would be a poor leader if I did not address the matter.”
“I shall remain Faithful.”
With a nod, the Protector moved on. “Several in our Flight have already befriended Prissie, and I see no reason why you cannot do the same.”
Silence lingered long, but Tamaes finally broke it, wryly admitting, “That may be why I am rattled.”
Usually after the fair closed, summer’s excitement fizzled away, but Prissie’s mind still whirled with new faces, half-formed fears, and an unsettling suspicion that even if she wished it, none of the strange things she’d seen were going to fade away. Maybe it would be better if they did, like waking from a bad dream.
But was it
all
bad?
“No,” she sighed, staring hard at her bedroom ceiling. Still, Prissie would have been happier if she could pick and choose the parts that involved her — the friendly, smiling, happy parts. Determined to put the previous days’ events behind her, she thrust all thoughts of angels from her mind.
Prissie wandered downstairs in the vague hopes that Momma would be able to suggest something to do. A little
excitement might be nice, just not the kind that involved death-defying tumbles, ominous warnings, and keen-edged swords.
She found Momma and Grandma Nell on the back porch, sipping iced tea on the slowly swaying swing. Her grandmother was casually flipping through the pages of Beau’s new book about Sunderland State Park, but she glanced up over her reading glasses and blandly remarked, “Here comes another one.”
One look at her daughter, and Momma smiled knowingly. “You look restless.”
“I’m bored,” grumbled Prissie.
Grandma Nell chuckled. “I can’t believe you young ones! Anyone with sense would thank heaven for a quiet place to collapse after all the flimflam and folderol of the fair, but here you come, begging for more!”
“But there’s nothing to do!”
“Oh, there’s always something that needs doing,” her grandmother retorted, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. “Are you looking for extra chores?”
“Something
fun
,” she hastily amended.
“Why don’t you call Margery?” Momma suggested. “You two are usually full of plans about how to spend your last free days before school starts.”
Prissie gave her a pained look. “She’s probably busy.”
Momma chased a droplet of condensation down the side of her glass with one finger, then casually asked, “Did something happen with Margery the other day? You left with one set of friends and came back with another.” Studying her daughter’s face, she added, “Neil seemed to think you had a falling out.”
“Since when does Neil know anything about anything?” Prissie snapped, upset that he’d tattled.
“He was only passing along something that nice young man Baird said,” Naomi explained, her voice soft.
Momma always did get quieter when she scolded, and Prissie knew she was pushing it. Still, her tone sharpened defensively. “He has no right to stick his nose into other people’s problems!”
“So there
is
a problem.” Momma shook her head and prompted, “What happened, sweetheart?”
Prissie only hesitated a little. It felt good to finally tell someone. Momma and Grandma listened patiently as she explained how awful Margery’s birthday party had been. Being looked down on, left out, and laughed at — maybe they were small things, but they hurt in a big way. “It’s like they’ve forgotten all about me!” she exclaimed bitterly.
“Then maybe it’s time to remind them,” Momma suggested. “Do something to show them you still want to be friends.”
“Like what?”
Grandma Nell interjected, “It’s not like you to sit back and wait for your friends. Don’t you usually keep them organized.”
Prissie nodded slowly as she thought back. “I did have lots of fun things planned, but right around the middle of summer, everyone was suddenly too busy.” It had been frustrating to hear nothing but
no
and
not this time
from Margery and the others, so she’d stopped asking. “Maybe I gave up.”
“Try, try again,” Momma cheerfully rejoined. “Why don’t you invite the girls to the mall?”
“When?”
“The longer you put off reconnecting, the harder it will be,” Grandma Nell warned.
Prissie’s mother brightly agreed. “There’s no time like the present!”
“Today?”
“It’s short notice, but why not?” Momma replied encouragingly. “Go see if they’re free, and we’ll take it from there.”
“I thought you were tired,” Prissie said, dragging her feet just a little.
“Completely exhausted,” her mother acknowledged, waving her toward the door. “Which is why I’ll bribe Tad into playing chauffeur if you can get a group together.”
Grandma Nell closed the oversized book she’d been perusing and extended it. “Put this in the office for me on your way to the phone?”
Prissie was grateful for the advice, but it didn’t really make it any easier for her to make the first move. She shouldn’t have to remind Margery, April, and Jennifer that they were friends — should she? But a trip to the mall would be the perfect distraction.
In the end, Prissie couldn’t quite summon up the nerve to call. Instead, she fired up the family computer in the little office area off the kitchen and copied them all on an email instead. Down in West Edinton, three cell phones were undoubtedly alerting their owners to new messages.
While she waited for a response, Prissie idly turned the pages of the big book Grandma had passed along. It was the one Harken had given Beau. Apparently, the nearby state park’s property had once belonged to A. J. Sunderland, one of West Edinton’s founders. She’d always liked the hiking trails that meandered through the nearby woodlands, and she could remember camping there a few times when she was little. Near the center of the book, Prissie found a foldout
map of part of Sunderland’s impressive cave system and traced her finger along the maze of tunnels that apparently stretched for miles.
Just then, the computer chimed, and she felt a zing of excitement. April had responded! Clicking the message, Prissie smiled triumphantly. Jennifer was over at April’s house, and they were both bored to tears. They could meet up. The sooner, the better!
Margery’s reply came through a few minutes later, also agreeing to the plan. Margery used to use a lot more exclamation points, maybe because shopping was involved. Still, a yes was a yes.
She was just logging out when Koji tapped on the door frame. “Are you going somewhere, Prissie?”
Not quite meeting his gaze, she said, “Yes. I’m going to the mall with my friends.”
“May I accompany you?”
Prissie appreciated everything Koji had done for her, but she replied, “Not this time. Girls only.”
Momma leaned into the office niche and announced, “Your brother is ready and willing, but you’ll need to leave on the early side so he can put gas in the van.”
“Thanks,” Prissie replied with a weak smile.
Koji’s steady gaze was discomfiting. “Tad is not a girl.”
“He doesn’t count!” she exclaimed defensively. “He’s our driver.”
Nodding, the young angel solemnly said, “I understand. Please, be careful.”
As soon as he excused himself, Prissie wished she’d been more honest with Koji. She felt guilty, especially since she knew what it was like being left out, and she was kicking
herself for using the very words she’d come to hate —
not this time.
In trying to prove she still fit in with her old friends, she’d pushed away her new one.
The mall was packed with teenagers also making the most of their last week of summer vacation. To Prissie’s delight, Jennifer wore a long, crinkly skirt with little seashells stitched along its hem. “I bought it at the
cutest
little shop close to the beach!” she enthused, twirling to show off her summery souvenir.
Prissie exclaimed over the perfect little seashell earrings that matched. “It’s perfect! You look beautiful!”
Her friend’s big, brown eyes took on a happy shine, and she linked arms with Prissie, pledging, “We’re gonna have so much fun today! I’m
so
glad you called! There was absolutely nothing else to do!”
April gave the girl a poke and demanded, “Coming over to my house was nothing?”
“Your house doesn’t have a coffee shop, summer clearances, or cute guys!” Jennifer argued.
Prissie glanced after their driver, who’d manfully escaped in the direction of the food court. “Are you talking about my brother?”
“Not Tad,” she giggled. “I was talking about hypothetical boys. You never know who we might see at the mall!”
“Hypothetical, huh?” April countered with a smirk. “Are you sure you’re not thinking of someone in particular?”
Margery glanced up from her cell phone and remarked, “I think it’s pretty obvious who she’s hoping to see. Jennifer has a one-track mind.”
“Right up until she changes it!” April teased.
Jennifer giggled all the more, and Prissie smiled. It was almost like old times. Almost. Despite being exactly where she wanted to be, and with the people she wanted to be close to, something felt a little odd. Without meaning to, she found herself scanning the crowds and wondering if everyone’s guardian angels were camped out on the roof. The middle of the mall was spacious enough for flight. Even now, it could be a battlefield.
“Oooh, he’s gorgeous!” Jennifer swooned, her gaze fixed upward as they rode an escalator down.
“Interesting fashion sense,” April remarked, tapping Prissie’s shoulder to get her attention. “You two match.”
By the time she figured out where to look, the young man had turned away, so she only caught a glimpse of sleek, dark hair and a shirt in the same rich shade of violet as hers. Prissie’s heart gave a little leap, for she was almost positive it had been Adin.
“I saw him earlier, outside the dressing rooms,” Margery interjected.
“Maybe he’s following us!” giggled Jennifer.
April snorted. “Even if he’s pretty to look at, that would be creepy.”
Prissie hadn’t wanted anything supernatural to follow her to the mall, but Adin fit neatly into the category of pleasant angelic encounters. “I hope we see him again,” she murmured.
They wandered through shops for a couple of hours, then agreed it was high time for a treat. Migrating toward a popular establishment on the first floor, they ordered iced coffees and crowded around one of the tiny tables out front to watch passersby. Prissie was still on the lookout for men in violet shirts.
“Omigosh! Did you see him?” Jennifer squealed.
“Can you be more specific?” April asked, glancing around quizzically. “There are a lot of guys to choose from.”
“The gorgeous stalker again?” Margery guessed.
“Marcus!” the girl hissed, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe he’s actually here! And he was looking right at me! Omigosh!”
“Marcus from our class Marcus?” Prissie checked, trying to keep the incredulity from her tone.
“More like
the
Marcus,” April replied. “And I don’t see him. Are you sure you’re not hallucinating, Jennifer? It’s a dangerous business, mixing caffeine and crushes.”
“He was right up there a second ago!” Pointing to the mall’s second level, she muttered, “And of course I’m sure!”
“He’s hard to miss with that hair,” Prissie reasoned, scanning the upper walkway.
“I know!” crooned Jennifer, a dreamy expression on her face. “I wonder why he’s here.”
“Destiny,” April deadpanned. “Or there’s the remote possibility that he has shopping to do. How about we ask him?”
Shaking her head, Jennifer mournfully said, “He’s gone.”
“He can’t have gotten far,” April challenged.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“Dare you to,” Margery interjected, egging them on.
“Done!” April had never been shy about approaching people, and she was on her feet in a moment. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she loudly announced, “I’ll just go say hello!”
When she sauntered off without a backward glance, Jennifer wailed in dismay and snatched up her various bags before chasing after her. Shaking her head, Prissie remarked, “I can’t believe she’s being so silly over someone like Marcus.”
Margery’s green eyes were oddly flat. “You’re one to talk. When we were kids, you were in love with the mailman.”
Whether intended or not, the barb cut deeply, and it took a while for Prissie to work around the sudden tightness in her throat. “You’re right,” she managed. “I shouldn’t criticize.”
Her friend shrugged and carelessly said, “At least Marcus is good looking.”
Prissie wanted to defend Milo somehow, but to do so would mean confessing too much. Valiantly changing the subject, she asked, “Do you have any shopping you need to do?”
“Not really,” Margery replied, sounding bored. “I was here yesterday.”
“Oh.” Her mind was a blank, so she sipped her iced coffee in awkward silence. When her friend’s phone gave a perky
ching-a-ring
, Prissie honestly thought she’d been saved by the bell. Margery whipped it out and smiled at the display. “Message?” Prissie politely inquired.