Destiny's Gate (25 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Angels and Telepathy

We sprinted to Peggy’s cottage, arriving sooner than we had expected. After light knocking, I flung open Peggy’s door. Amidst all of our giddiness, it took a few minutes to notice that the house was in total darkness and there was no sign of Peggy at all. Carole’s face became contorted as if she was being squeezed tightly by someone. She grabbed at her chest and then dropped to the floor. I heard a noise and spun around in a panic. There...lying on the floor, was Peggy, white as a ghost, barely breathing. Her chest moved shallowly, up and down, and I knelt on the floor next to her trying not to frighten her any further and whispered her
name.

“Peggy, Peggy, are you all right?” And as anticipated, there was no response. I touched her hand; it was ice cold. If she hadn’t been breathing; I would have run screaming bloody murder from her home. She let out a gasp, and grabbed my
arm.

Peggy uttered four haunting words, “Run for your life!” She fell
unconscious.

Ashamed as I was, I bolted from the cottage, and ran all the way to the manor, without thinking or remembering how I made it there.
What have I done?
I left Peggy and Carole, my two dearest friends, behind to deal with whatever evil was haunting Peggy, or all of us for that
matter.

Grandpa rang his bedside bell and as I sprinted down the hallway I heard him cry my name aloud, “Paige! Come at
once!”

As I entered his bedroom, it looked as if he had been napping and suddenly awakened. I scrambled to him and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to
speak.

“What have you done?” he asked. “You left Peggy alone with him. You must return at once to Peggy’s and help her, now, child! Here, take this with
you.”

Grandpa shoved a glass cross into my hand and told me not to let go of it, no matter who was in my face. He declared, “Evil will show itself in many different forms — it can hide in helpful Peggy, or your best friend, Carole’s smiling face, or even mine. This is coming to a head on the estate, dear Paige, and you must protect yourself at all times. Promise me you will not let go of
it.”

Bursting into tears I replied, “Yes, grandpa, I promise. Are you going to be
okay?”

“Yes, child, now go. Help your friends!” Grandpa dropped my
hand.

“I’ll return as soon as I
can.”

Dashing from the room, I stopped at the kitchen sink and felt compelled to fetch a glass of water. As I downed it, I caught my reflection in the kitchen window, and watched in horror as a shadow appeared. I dropped my glass in the sink; shattering it. I cannot recall much after that, only that I was at Peggy’s, and she was sitting in the drawing room talking calmly with Carole. I looked at the two of them wondering, how could this be? When I had left Peggy, she was lying on the floor, commanding me to run to safety. I was filled with foreboding and it felt like every sensory perception I had was on high alert. Carole and Peggy saw me and then promptly looked away continuing their conversation. Something about this situation was not right. I moved closer and they ignored me still. Faintly, repeating their names, I received no response. I began to scream their names, “Peggy...Carole,” and watched, as they remained engrossed in their
discussion.

I heard a tiny voice beside me. When I looked, however, no one was in view. I happened to peer upwards, and saw a glint of light. Then there were several more. Tiny sparkles of white light surrounded me. Feeling suddenly peaceful, I decided this could not be a bad thing. Time stood still and I heard a voice pronounce, “
Paige, we are with you always. Not all people have the ability to see angels, you are one of them. You are pure of heart; pure intention. We are happy to help you with whatever you ask. This is important, you need to ask. We are not allowed to fix things. Do you want to ask us something,
Paige
?”

Intrigued by the sparkling diamond-like shapes, I refrained from answering. My amazement grew as the sparkles appeared larger, overwhelmingly so, with the magnitude of white light emitted. I backed away and crossed my arms over my eyes, wondering if this was for real? After all, would I not be in Heaven, then, if I was talking to
angels?

All doubts were pushed aside as I observed a glorious angel appear before me in human form. He was tall and muscular, with wide wings outstretched at his sides; his body and wings the colour of a tie-dyed beige shirt. He had flowing, sandy brown hair, a long forehead, high cheek bones and no facial hair. He was handsome. I felt nervous as his presence was much stronger than the rest, and then I suddenly felt peaceful, on the threshold of understanding how the universe works — as One.

“Help them, please,” I
begged.

Without the need for words, he nodded and then showed images of my past, present and future which took merely seconds to receive. I saw myself lying on the ground, remembering the day I fell off my bike for the first time, my knee and shin bled profusely and mom wiped away my tears; the day I received my first place ribbon for competing in the track and field games and dad high-fiving me; the first time I saw my parents exchange an intimate kiss, so tender and caring; then I saw Conall and remembered the first time I met him by the dilapidated cottage wearing his gothic clothes; the same day I met Mackenzie, and her caring and innocent mannerisms; and their mother, the stone angel who came to life right in front of my eyes. The images turned dark, and I saw Bradford yelling at me about our ancestors’ sins; the boy being tortured in the ice vault; and finally, hellhounds joined with wolves united against a real horror that I could not see! The visions portrayed the move to Camlachie as the catalyst of the interface between two worlds on the O’Brien Estate. The spirit world was full of many wonderful people, and it also harboured earthbound spirits. Some earthly spirits were friendly, stuck here because a loved one would not let them go, or the spirit was worried about their family so much they could not bear to leave, or they inhabited a place that meant the world to them. Others, murderers, rapists, and drug lords, refused to leave for fear of what the Creator would do to them. They were told all of their lives that they would be banished to Hell. So they chose to remain on earth, as one of the unseen walking spirits. Unfortunately, they can influence people who are angry, frustrated, grieving, upset, or jaded with their own lives, to do things and say things that are mean and hurtful, or worse yet, to commit carnal sins: wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy or
gluttony.

When I snapped out of what I assumed was a vision, there I stood in the kitchen, my reflection staring back at me and the shattered glass beckoning from the sink. In the blink of an eye, I felt a shift within my world that would forever change how I looked at life and people. How lucky was I that the angels cared enough to share secrets of the universe to help me in the battle of good over evil. It shocked me to think that I once lived a one-dimensional life in
Scarborough.

Arriving at Peggy’s, I was hesitant as to what I might find.
Will Carole and Peggy both be dead?
I was relieved to hear her voice telepathically,
your friend Archangel Michael saved us, Paige. Thank you for sending him our way. C’mon in.
I carefully turned the door knob to the left, and stepped inside. There stood Peggy with Carole, arm in arm. The three of us embraced for several minutes until I broke away and looked up to the Heavens and rejoiced
, thank you, my guardian
angels.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Epiphany

I had to wonder what was really happening on the estate. I did not feel like I had the entire picture of events. It seemed like a world within a world within another world. The living world was filled with humans and their spirit wolves or spirit animals; walking amongst us were the earthbounds and hellhounds; and then there were the spirits of the Light, Mackenzie and Conall, and our biggest allies the angels, like Sasha Grace, Archangel Michael and his friend Raphael who I had not yet met. If I drew concentric circles around each world, they would overlap and move closer towards the heavens with the earthbound spirits being the lowest circle and the angels the highest. I imagined we were somewhere in between. And then I remembered the library, and all of its books in the abandoned cottage. Perhaps they could help. This would be a difficult adventure as it was challenging enough to walk on level land in the winter, let alone climbing the ridge. It would be an extreme physical
challenge.

The next two weeks miraculously brought about an early spring, as predicted on February 2
nd
, by a groundhog named Wiarton Willie. He did not see his shadow, an age-old Canadian tradition called Groundhog Day. For once he was right. Each weekend I ran to the kitchen and looked out the bay window overlooking the rose garden to see if the snow had magically disappeared. Finally,towards the end of my school break, on the third Saturday in March, I noticed barren but frozen ground — ideal conditions for my task at
hand.

Dressed in my long johns underneath my black jeans and turtleneck to brace myself for the frigid weather conditions on top of the ridge, I charged into the kitchen and was happy to find Hanna
alone.

“Could you please pack a lunch for me, Hanna? Don’t worry. I have something I need to do.” I tried to avoid her fiery eyes. “Please, stay out of
it.”

“Paige, you must tell me. You’ve been through so much and your health seems to be...fragile.” Hanna walked over and placed her hand on my
arm.

“I have to return to the old cottage. There are books that I need to find to help figure out the haunting on the
estate.”

Although Hanna appeared hesitant, she agreed. “Well, if you must. I know in my heart this is your path.” She packed my lunch and grabbed a small, first aid kit out of the drawer. “Knowing how clumsy you can be sometimes, perhaps, this will help
you.”

I laughed and said, “You know me too well, Hanna. And thank you. I appreciate it.” It was marvellous that the two of us had grown to understand one another so well. “If I’m not back at the end of the
day...”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Paige. I’ll send out the Mounties.” Hanna smacked me on the
back.

I escaped the manor before my grandparents surfaced. Counting the steps to the guest house was a comfort. There were one thousand, one hundred and forty two, and I was back to my old, obsessive-compulsive self. The spring thaw was invigorating with the abundant smell of fresh, moist air. It tickled my nostrils. Tiny buds had formed on the surrounding bushes and the odd remnant from last year’s budding flowers swayed in the gentle breeze. The cardinal’s call was the first to be heard. I watched as a large black bird, with a broad wingspan, flew overhead as I moved along the path. It was too far away for me to see exactly what kind of bird it was, but somehow it felt reassuring to know I had
company.

I crept alongside the guest house not wanting to bump into Trixie or Allan. This was my destiny and mine alone. There seemed to be no movement within the small castle and I was happy about that. I started on the path to the portal to the forest and could see clearly now, as the trees remained barren, no leaves to obstruct my view. I saw lots of brown and grey squirrels scurrying about and felt their happiness that spring had sprung. I spied a larger animal that I discovered, much to my dismay, was a skunk as I drew nearer; its horrid stench disgusted me. Luckily the path took me away from it. My heart soared as I heard the babbling brook ahead. Oh, how I had missed that sound! I looked up to the sky and gave thanks for this break in the weather and the picture-perfect
day.

I had finally perfected the art of crossing the brook without falling in. This gave me confidence on my journey. Ascending the ridge could be trickier at this time of year. I stopped to retrieve my leather gloves with suede palms so I could hold onto the tree branches and rocks when necessary. Climbing in the cooler weather always took the wind out of me. It seemed to be heavier air and effected my breathing. I took notice of this and rested when needed. Finally atop the crest, and achieving my goal, I scanned the estate. It was awe-inspiring to say the least and worth every step of the way. Everything glistened in the sunlight. It looked like an artist had swept a paint brush over the entire estate, making it appear magical as glints of light sparkled from the manor, the guest house and random places throughout the forest. Glancing over at the cottage, everything appeared to be normal. The recollection of Halloween made me shiver as I thought of zombie-like Dexter, when he chased Carole and I, and we had become trapped in the cottage with wolves surrounding us, acting as our sentries; now, it seemed like a
nightmare.

After leveraging a hook over a sturdy branch of an ancient oak tree and securing a rope tied around my waist to prevent my fall to the rocks below, little by little, I descended the ridge. I was grateful Dexter had taught me how to rock climb. Never did I think I would learn so many different skills on the O’Brien Estate, and especially from him. I missed Dexter so much and accepted that what had happened was beyond his control. I wished I had paid more attention to him while he was still alive. Next, I envisioned Conall lying at the bottom of the ridge, with his sister, Mackenzie, sprawled next to him. It was heart breaking to know that was how they had perished so very long ago, without their parents to protect them. I quickly snapped out of it and forged
ahead.

As I reached the valley, I was grateful the tall grasses were beaten down for an easier walk. Of course, there were no bees to bother me yet, so that also made me happy. I noticed animal tracks, probably wolves. They were easy for me to spot now that I was one of them. My senses were heightened and I could smell a familiar musky scent. It was Blue-Eyes ahead.
What is he doing here?
Stealthily approaching the cottage, I keenly surveyed the surrounding area to see if anyone was hidden from sight; thankful, no further signs were detected. As I rounded the corner of the cottage and peered in through the broken window, I spied Blue-Eyes leaning over someone. I cautiously approached, and when nearing the doorway, heard Trixie groaning; I burst into the cottage and watched as she rolled around on the
floor.

“Blue-Eyes, what’s
happening?”

I backed up, as he turned around and snarled at me. This was not a good sign. He growled and then let out a wounded howl. The back of my neck felt prickly.
Is it a warning?
When I looked back towards Blue-Eyes, I noticed Archangel Michael with his healing hands on Trixie. Not sure what was going on, I knew not to say a word. Blue-Eyes transformed into Allan Brewer and he sprinted over to hug me tightly. I struggled to
breathe.

“Thanks for coming, Paige. I need you here. Trixie had a fight in the night and I don’t know the details, yet. Michael will save her! I’m so glad you answered my call,” Allan said, tears streaming down his
face.

Thinking to myself,
what call?
I hugged him and reassured him, “Everything will be
fine.”

Allan responded, “Glad to hear you say that,
Paige.”

“Have faith, all will be well.”
Where do these grown-up sayings come
from
?

Michael hovered over Trixie for most of the morning. Finally, he turned to us and said, “She’ll recover, now. Trixie just needs a lot of rest. What happened,
Allan?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been waiting for her to wake up. Are you sure she’ll be okay?” Allan asked in a whisper, as if he was unsure he wanted to know the
answer.

“Yes. I am sure. Paige, you could have done the healing, remember? You have healing hands too. Perhaps that’s why Allan called you here today?” Michael looked from me to
Allan.

“I came to the cottage to find something in the library. I really don’t think I answered your call at all, Allan. I had a sudden urge to look for a book.” I studied the two of them feeling
confused.

“Sometimes, we answer the call without realizing it — acting on autopilot. You had a strong urge to come to the cottage — the call from me; and your human mind told you it was to look for a book. And, here you are, travelling through the forest and over the ridge at an extremely dangerous time of the year. Think about it, Michael’s right,” Allan
added.

“Please, don’t forget I’m just getting the hang of how all of this works, Allan.” I looked at Michael for further enlightenment, eyebrows
raised.

“Discovering our gift is a process, Paige, a testing of ourselves. Your first hint was the strong urge to come to the cottage on the first day of spring, with the winter weather still looming. Yes, luckily the weather is clear today — nice and sunny, not too much snow on the ground. However, we all know that the snow can come at any time, and out of the blue. You still arrived here at Allan and Trixie’s time of need. To take it a step further, your healing hands were needed; I was called upon by Allan and came to assist. Next time, you’ll know you are indeed answering a Divine call for help. Trust me.” Michael smiled at
me.

Thank you for helping me to understand myself and this gift better.” I bowed my head as a sign of
respect.

“We are all One. You are here and that’s what matters most,” Allan interjected. He clasped my hand and I was shocked at how on fire his
was.

Michael and Allan stepped off to the side to talk, and I watched as Trixie lay still, hoping she would soon wake up. Michael announced he had to leave and Allan said he’d stay and look after his stepdaughter. Allan pointed at the bookshelves, reminding me of the reason I believed I had come to the
cottage.

Novels were arranged on the shelves, alphabetically by the authors’ surnames: Jane Austen of
Pride and Prejudice
, 1813; Charlotte Bronte of
Jane Eyre
, 1847; Leo Tolstoy of
War and Peace
, 1869. The copies were ancient and I wondered if they could actually be first editions.
Whose library is this, exactly
? A light bulb went off in my head —
why Conall’s family, of
course.

Plopping down onto a foot stool, I began to scan through the dusty books, enamoured with the collection. I gingerly flipped the pages of these classic books until I stumbled upon a poetry collection by none other than Edgar Allan Poe. There he was again — like the stone puzzle I had pieced together with his poem
Alone
engraved upon it in our family cemetery. I thought of Conall’s mother, Sasha Grace, the stone angel, who transformed as a result. She was a sight to behold when she had first materialized in the
summer.

Hesitant to pick the book off the shelf, I turned to watch Allan with Trixie; they had disappeared.
Am I in a time warp
? It felt as if I was in a trance as I retrieved Poe’s book, carefully turning the pages, one by one, until I found it! I knew, in my heart as my pulse raced, that this very poem was the next key to what was happening upon the estate. I heard a tiny voice state —
the only way to read Poe is aloud, in order to understand him
. Like someone nudged me from behind, I rather embarrassedly began to recite the poem for all to hear; my voice
lowered:

Spirits of the
Dead

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone-
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of
secrecy:

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness-for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee-and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be
still.

The night-tho’ clear-shall frown-
And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given-
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for
ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish-
Now are visions ne’er to vanish-
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more-like dew-drop from the
grass.

The breeze-the breath of God–is still-
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy-shadowy-yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token-
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of
mysteries!

At the conclusion of reading
Spirits of the Dead
, I shivered, remembering the day grandpa repeated several of the verses in an otherworldly voice. Here it was in black and white.
What does it mean
? I had been through several spiritual episodes before the move to O’Brien Manor and many more since I had first arrived, but this one made my skin crawl. It was like someone had entered my body and read the words aloud to
me.

Collapsing onto the closest chair, I rubbed my forehead experiencing the sudden onset of a massive headache. All alone, in this web of confusion, I sensed an imminent evil closing in. I heard strumming on a guitar and a bluesy voice
singing: