“Yep.”
“Is it April?”
“Nope,” Margery replied, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder and standing. “Come on.”
“But what if they come back, and we’re gone?”
Rolling her eyes, she held up her phone. “All they have to do is call, and we’ll tell them where we are!”
Feeling stupid, Prissie mumbled, “Obviously.” Margery headed straight for the main entrance, and she had to lengthen her strides to keep up. “Where are we going?” she finally asked.
Her friend didn’t answer. She was too busy waving to someone leaning against the wall just inside the bank of sliding doors. “Elise! You made it!”
“I pulled it off,” she said.
Margery turned to Prissie and smiled sweetly. “It turns out Elise could come, too.”
“It’s not like you guys were excluding me on purpose,” Elise said.
At a loss for what else to say, Prissie lamely said, “Hello. It’s nice to see you again.”
Hooking her arm through the other girl’s, Margery demanded, “Where were you all morning?”
“Out.”
“Doing what?”
“Stuff,” Elise replied with a haughty glance that suggested she wasn’t going to say anything while Prissie was in earshot.
Although she’d thought Margery was being unusually quiet, Prissie felt sick when her best friend suddenly transformed into her old, chatterbox self, gushing with news as she led Elise toward the glass elevators. Her steps lagged as the other two girls boarded. Elise quirked a brow. “Are you coming, or what?”
Prissie shot a pleading look at Margery, who knew about her fear of heights. The message carried across, and Margery exclaimed, “Oh! That’s right!” However, instead of getting off, she nodded toward the high-end department store at the far end of the mall and said, “We’ll be up in the makeup department. Catch up to us there.”
“Or not!” Elise added with a smirk. And the doors slid shut.
Too stunned to move, Prissie watched the elevator soar upward without her.
“That wasn’t very nice.” Prissie turned in surprise to find
Adin standing nearby, also watching the elevator’s ascent. His gaze slanted her way, and he mildly inquired, “Friends of yours?”
“Not so much,” she murmured, grateful that God had again seen fit to send reinforcements. With a wan smile, she asked, “Are you here to keep me company?”
Glancing around, he remarked, “Since you’re suddenly on your own, how can I do otherwise? It’ll give us the chance to catch up!”
“I’d like that,” she admitted, grateful that Adin had showed up right when she’d needed him most. Only Koji would have been more welcome right now. Unlike Margery, he was a friend she could count on.
As if he could read her mind, Adin remarked, “I hear you’re keeping an Observer around the house these days.”
“Koji,” she replied warmly.
“I see he’s endeared himself to you,” he said with a soft laugh.
Smiling readily, she explained, “We’re friends.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t with you.”
Prissie looked away sheepishly. “Oh, he would have been, but it’s just girls today.”
Adin leaned down in order to get her to meet his gaze. “Are you regretting that choice?”
“Just a little.”
His brows lifted, and she blushed.
“Okay, maybe a lot.”
They strolled along companionably. “The two of you must be close.”
“I guess.” Was it possible to be closer to Koji, someone she’d only known for a few weeks, than to Margery, someone she’d
known for years? That’s certainly how she felt. Prissie suddenly realized why Adin’s assessment rang true. “I trust him.”
“Naturally,” Adin rejoined. “The Faithful are faithful, after all!”
“Oh, right,” she murmured, embarrassed to have taken so long to come to such an obvious conclusion.
“I’m sure he trusts you, as well.”
“I suppose.” Prissie wasn’t so sure Koji could count on her, not when she was so frightened by what friendship with him might lead to. The Faithful were one thing, but the Fallen were another. Getting mixed up in an invisible war sounded like a very bad idea.
“Prissie?” She nearly bumped into Adin, who’d swung around to face her. “You’re not listening to me,” he scolded in sing-song tones.
“Sorry. What?”
“I was only saying that good friends often trade secrets.”
Color rose in her cheeks as Prissie recalled some of the secrets she’d entrusted to Margery. Would the girl keep them even if their friendship ended, or would they be betrayed to the likes of Elise?
Adin’s brows lifted inquiringly. “Is that a yes?”
“Naturally,” she murmured, unconsciously borrowing his word. “The longer you know someone, the more secrets you share.”
Suddenly, something bright zipped between them, and they both stepped back in surprise. More dazzling lights arrowed past, like so many shooting stars. Prissie gasped in delight and backed up even further to watch a cluster of yahavim spiral toward the ceiling far overhead. “Did you see? I wonder what they’re doing here!”
Her companion laughed lightly and said, “It seems a new escort has arrived.”
More tiny angels darted in from every direction, as if drawn by the others. Several tapped her, as if to say,
I found you!
She smiled at their antics, and her heart melted every time one smiled back. The only problem was, the more of them there were, the brighter it became.
“Since these little ones seem to think you need them, I’ll leave you to their tender mercies!”
“Thank you, Adin.” With a slightly harried smile, she earnestly said, “You always seem to cheer me up.”
“Don’t mention it,” he demurred. “And don’t be afraid to get closer to your Observer friend. Something tells me his secrets will be well worth finding out!”
More little manna-makers rushed around her, and Prissie was nearly blinded by their combined glory. Trying to act naturally in case anyone was looking, she slipped into a long, empty hall with lockers, pay phones, and an exit sign flickering at the far end. Blinking away the spots that danced before her eyes, she quietly demanded, “What’s gotten into you guys?”
When Prissie held out her hands, two of the tiny angels settled on her palms. She didn’t really recognize them, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying their company. She seemed to have attracted an entire flock, and their soft humming and affectionate gestures banished many of her fears. Even at the mall, God was watching over her.
All at once, the yahavim scattered, just as someone swung around the corner, nearly knocking her off her feet. Hands grabbed her shoulders, and a gruff voice muttered, “That was close.” Prissie stared blankly into the scowling face of Marcus Truman. “You okay?” he asked.
Badly startled and more than a little afraid, she twisted away from him, demanding, “Get away from me!”
“ ‘Scuse me,” he quickly apologized, holding up his hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Prissie glanced around, wondering where all the manna-makers had disappeared to. Had Marcus’s arrival driven them off? With the beginnings of a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she edged toward the safety in numbers that the mall offered.
Her classmate shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and bluntly asked, “Do you think maybe you could call off that friend of yours?”
“Jennifer?”
“That’s the one,” he confirmed.
“Oh.” With a glance down the empty hallway, Prissie asked, “Are you hiding from her?”
“Sorta. Are you?”
She shook her head. “We were separated.”
“No kidding,” he muttered, looking disgusted. “Try the food court.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
He grumbled something under his breath, but his answer was civil enough. “Because I last saw her in the food court with April. They were talking to your brother.”
With a hasty word of thanks, she fled, wanting nothing more than to reach Tad and convince him it was time to go home. Although she hated to admit it, hiding was exactly what she wanted to do right now.
J
edrick,” the Fallen said, pleased when Ephron twitched at the name. “He’s your captain. No … he
was
your captain. I’ve been looking into the members of your former Flight.”
His prisoner turned his face to the wall.
“Such an unusual group, with a shocking number of Grafts.” His voice dripped with sweet poison. “But there’s someone even rarer under his watch-care, isn’t there, Ephron?”
The Observer sat rigidly against the wall of the pit, his breaths shallow due to pain, or possibly fear.
“
Two
someones!” he revealed, exulting in his discovery.
Ephron sagged a little, resting his forehead against his prison wall.
His captor scowled, for the whelp’s reaction felt more like
relief than resignation. Features twisting into an ugly mask, he spat, “You served with two Caretakers, yet you fester in this hole! What more proof do you need that God has turned his back on you?”
This time, the angel turned his bandaged face toward his tormentor. Lifting his pointed chin, he spoke in a light voice left ragged by pain, yet filled with grim resolve. “Even so, I will remain faithful.”
One day followed the next, and Prissie kept waiting for something else to happen, but it didn’t. Her family went on as if everything was perfectly normal, and after all the excitement, she found the ordinariness of the week reassuring. From sunup to sundown, Grandma Nell kept her running between the garden and kitchen and from the kitchen to the cellar, where long shelves were filling up with jars of summer’s bounty. Same old, same old had never been more welcome.
While Prissie’s hands were busy, she tried very hard not to think about angels with swords, invisible wars, and the existence of demons. It was
much
nicer to dwell on visions of rainbow-hued wings, the elusive sweetness of manna, and the feel of Omri’s tiny arms wrapped around her thumb. As she carried quart jars of tomatoes down the basement stairs, she sighed and muttered, “It’s no use. I can’t un-know what I know.”
There were things out there that were bad enough to make Koji tremble and to rob Milo of his smile. Protectors and Guardians carried weapons and bore the scars of battle because the conflict was real and closer to home than she’d
ever imagined. But at the same time, there were good things that she didn’t want to give up. While she added to the neat rows of canned fruits and vegetables, she put together a wish list. “I want to hear Kester play every kind of instrument, and ask Harken if I can go through the blue door again, and see if any of the little angels in Abner’s flock are as nice as Omri, and hear Baird’s songs, and see Milo’s wings, and tell Tamaes that I think I remember him a little.”
She hadn’t seen any sign of her guardian angel since they’d been introduced. To be honest, Prissie was relieved. It had been weird enough to deal with the invasion of her privacy that Koji represented, but what was she supposed to do about an invisible protector who had been with her since she was born? Sure, he existed to protect her, but he was still a
guy
. While she appreciated knowing her guardian angel’s identity, the whole situation was awkward.
Still, Milo had called their meeting
precious.
Not a word she would have used, but Prissie had a vague idea that the Messenger had been looking at things from Tamaes’ point of view. Suddenly, it occurred to her that her reaction had probably been a big disappointment for the Guardian. For days, she’d been pretending he wasn’t there. Had she hurt his feelings in the process?
Prissie peered uncertainly around the cellar. Light from two bare bulbs gleamed off of whitewashed stone in the cool, slightly musty storeroom. She certainly felt alone, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was. “Are you here, Tamaes?” she whispered.
No answer came.
A moment later, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Koji called, “Prissie?”
“Y-yeah?” she replied, feeling a little guilty without knowing why.
Since the events at the fair, Koji had been the one constant reminder of the presence of angels. He sat across from her at meals and helped her in the garden, but he was also holding back. She thought he always looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his peace, spending more and more time with her brothers. Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt as though the young angel was waiting for her. If only she had a clue what he wanted.
Koji stopped partway down the stairs and sat, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Do you need help?”
“Not really. I just finished.”
He considered her solemnly, then announced, “It would be just as silly to pray to an angel as it would be to pray to your cat.”
“I wasn’t!” she protested. “Not
really.
I was just checking?”
With a nod, Koji said, “I understand, Prissie. I simply wish to make sure that
you
understand.”
“How did you know I was down here?”
“I was Sent.”
“So you’re a Messenger now, too?” she asked lightly.
“Indeed,” he replied with a brightening smile. “Speaking of which, the mail will be here in a few minutes. Will you come with me to see Milo?”
“Oh.” She’d been avoiding the mailbox — and the mailman — all week, and it was no shock that the Observer had noticed. It wasn’t that she was angry with Milo or anything like that. Prissie had just needed some time to get used to the new ideas they’d dumped on her. There it was. With a long-suffering sigh, she tucked her skirt around her legs and sat
next to Koji on the stair. They’d been giving her a little time and space, and he wanted to know if it had been enough. “I guess I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Does that mean yes?” he asked hopefully.
“Obviously.”
“Good.”
With slow steps, they followed the narrow lane through the orchard, she in the left-hand track, and he in the right. Nothing much was said, but that was fine. This was one of those times when being together was enough. It was a friendly sort of silence.
When they arrived at the dirt road, they could just hear the rumble of an engine in the direction of the highway, so they hurried toward the twin mailboxes and climbed onto the plank fence behind them.
Milo pulled up and leaned out the car window. “Hey there, Miss Priscilla! Long time, no see!”
“It hasn’t been
that
long,” she huffed, fiddling with the end of her braid.
The mailman turned off his engine and hopped out of the car. “Guess it just felt that way,” he replied with an amiable smile. He handed off his last mail delivery of the day. “How have you been?”
“Busy.” It was small talk, and it wasn’t what she
really
wanted to say at all. Gathering her courage, she asked, “Do you have time to visit?”
“I have nowhere else to be,” he replied casually. Milo climbed up on the fence to sit on Koji’s other side. “What’s on your mind?” he invited.
The admission wasn’t easy, and it came out as a whisper. “I don’t know what to do about Tamaes.”
“Do?” the Messenger echoed, clearly confused.
“There’s a big
guy
following me around everywhere,” she whispered urgently. “It’s like having an invisible stalker.
Please
tell me he stays out of my room.” Prissie’s eyes widened in dismay, and she hissed, “and the
bathroom
!”
Mercifully, Milo didn’t laugh. “Didn’t you share these concerns with Koji?”
“She has been avoiding me as well,” the young apprentice announced bluntly.
Prissie wrinkled her nose at him, and Milo sighed. “If I had considered things from your point of view, I would have spoken sooner,” he assured. “I’m sorry you’ve been worrying needlessly over this.”
Needlessly
sounded promising, and she perked up a bit.
The mailman nodded approvingly and said, “You are
very
special to Tamaes. He’s known you since the moment you were conceived, and he will remain by your side throughout this life. He’s never far from you, but that doesn’t mean he’s shadowing your every step. For instance, he’s not here at the moment.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be?”
“Oh, he’s here,” Milo said, waving in the general direction of the farmhouse. “He’s just not
right here
with us. If you think about it, there are ten Pomeroys living here, each with a Guardian of their own. These angels work together, establishing a hedge of protection around your home.”
“And when Dad leaves for work?” she asked.
“His Guardian travels with him, and joins the group who watches over the other members of the bakery staff.”
“It sounds sort of crowded.”
Milo laughed and said, “Very.”
Koji swung his legs back and forth and commented, “Milo has a Guardian, too.”
“You do?” Prissie asked.
The mailman’s blue eyes sparkled. “Unofficially, yes. He really should show himself since Miss Priscilla has already been introduced.”
“Oh!” she gasped as Taweel appeared, sitting on the roof of Milo’s car, his elbows resting on his knees. He cast a moody glance at his teammates, as if he resented being tattled on. In the next instant, Omri flitted into view, zooming in excited circles around the three fence-sitters before settling in his favorite spot upon the big Guardian’s shoulder. Briefly meeting Prissie’s astonished gaze, he inclined his head in greeting. “Hello, again,” she murmured back.
“Taweel has been watching out for me since, well, since midsummer,” Milo explained.
“Don’t you have a person to look after?” Prissie asked curiously.
“No,” Taweel replied shortly. He stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and grudgingly added, “She lived long ago.”
Milo hopped off the fence and asked, “Can I call Tamaes over? I think he’s missing out.”
The Guardian’s mentor merely gave a little half-shrug, but the Messenger read it as acceptance. Taking several long strides so that he had a clear view up the driveway, Milo let loose with a piercing whistle, signaling with his hands. Prissie twisted around and tried to see what he was looking at, and Koji helpfully offered, “Tamaes has been on the barn roof since sunrise.”
There was an explosion of orange light that almost looked
like flames as the previously invisible figure leaped into the air. Even in the bright afternoon sunlight, her guardian angel’s wings shone vividly against the blue sky. “Is that where he usually goes?” she wondered aloud.
“The barn is his second favorite. There is a spot near the gable above your bedroom where the dormer meets the main slope,” Koji replied, using his hands to form the angle. “It is a good place to sit.”
“How do
you
know that?” Prissie demanded.
“I stayed with Tamaes a few times … before.”
“Oh.” Prissie’s eyes were drawn skyward as Tamaes sailed overhead, then angled his wings to wheel around, lining up to use the gravel road as a runway. He dropped between the surrounding trees with easy grace, back-winging to a stop a short distance away. As he strode toward them, he scanned the surroundings. It was bizarre, having an armed and armored warrior walking around as if he owned the place. “And there are nine more of him hanging around?” she muttered.
Koji gave her a strange look. “No one but Tamaes is like Tamaes.”
“Ten Guardians, each with a mentor,” remarked Taweel.
“So, twenty?”
Milo grinned and pointed to himself and Koji, saying, “And each Guardian pair has teammates who check in with them from time to time.”
“Observers, Protectors, Messengers,” Koji happily listed. “They are always coming and going.”
Prissie studied the empty front lawn, the various outbuildings, and the clear skies overhead. The only activity she could see in the entire farmyard was the handful of ducks who were waddling past the garden gate and Tansy, whose
tail occasionally flicked as she dozed in the sun in front of the barn. It was quiet. Boring, even. But only because she couldn’t see the whole picture.
The Guardian slowed to a stop a few paces away, but Milo smoothly drew him forward, saying, “Tamaes! Join us.”
With the beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he nodded and said, “Miss Priscilla.”
Once again, Prissie found it impossible to hold his gaze. He had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen, but it was difficult to face so much warmth from someone who was basically still a stranger. She fiddled uncomfortably with her skirt, at a loss for words.
Thankfully, Milo was right there, ready to step into the awkward silence. “Miss Priscilla was concerned to discover that you spend so much time on rooftops,” he said conversationally. “Perhaps the Guardians should borrow the postal carrier’s slogan — neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor hail will keep you from your appointed rounds?”
The orange-winged angel looked at her in surprise. “I do not mind.”
“Don’t you get cold?” Prissie asked curiously.
“Well, yes,” he slowly admitted.
“Or wet?” she demanded.
Tamaes glanced uncertainly at Taweel, who looked to Milo. The Messenger chuckled and continued in his role as spokesperson. “We
do
experience the elements, feeling the same sensations as you, but we don’t react the same way. For example, Tamaes can sleep all afternoon on the barn roof without any worries of sunburn, and Koji could run barefoot through snowbanks without ever risking frostbite.”
“We understand cold without knowing its bite,” her
guardian angel offered. “So there is no need for concern on my behalf.”
“That must be nice,” Prissie remarked.
“There’s one exception,” Milo shared. “None of us likes to linger long in the dark.”
“You’re afraid of the dark?” Prissie asked, surprised.
“You could say … as children of light, we yearn to walk in the light,” he replied with a wink.
“Omri
must
have light,” Taweel said, speaking up on behalf of his small companion.
Looking between the angels gathered around her, Prissie shook her head. “What do you all do at nighttime, then?”
“Night and dark are not exactly the same,” Koji piped up. “The stars are good company after the sun has set.”