Eternity (9 page)

“Tell me,” he said, “have I missed anything? How is the warden treating you?”

I rolled my eyes. “I wish you were still at school…simply because I miss you being there. But the warden…he is actually the least of my problems.”

“Hmmm,” he replied pensively. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I then recounted all that had happened, finishing with the fact that Eran has started on nightly reconnaissance missions and left me nervously wondering about his return.

Gershom smiled woefully. “Maggie, I appreciate that you are worried and if it were anyone else besides Eran going on these missions I would be just as concerned. But Eran’s abilities, not to mention his legacy as an experienced fighter, are narrated in stories here and on earth. I mean, he’s legendary.” He paused to assess my mood and added, “I honestly don’t think you have much to worry about. He’s not going to put himself in harm’s way because that would mean not coming back to you.”

Gershom had made a reasonable argument, I knew, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“How does he like school?” Gershom asked, trying to change the subject and keep my mind from roaming.

I appreciated the effort. “Being that he recalls the last several hundred years, he knows more about the subjects than the teachers.”

Gershom chuckled. “But he enjoys the actual practice of going to school. I think it’s nostalgic for him.”

“Maybe the teachers will run across some of his previous exploits…” Gershom suggested and we shared a laugh. “They may even run in to one of your previous exploits…”

“Mine?” I said, feigning offense. “All I’ve done is to deliver messages.”

“True,” Gershom replied sincerely, “and it caught the attention of others. You were known in London during the Black Plague, in Paris during the French Revolution…Newspaper articles have been written about you, your meetings with the upper crust of society have been documented. You do have a reputation on that side. But, on this side, well…you’re even more renowned…over here you’re more legendary than Eran.”

I found that difficult to believe. Eran was extraordinary in every way I could identify, so I immediately discounted Gershom. And the messengers…well, we were all the same.

“How could I possibly be any different from other messengers, Gershom. We all perform the same job. We deliver messages between earth and the afterlife. It’s actually pretty simple.”

Gershom responded with mocking laughter. “Oh no, it’s not that simple. Maggie, you are the last messenger on earth. That alone makes you special. But…it’s more than that…What makes you different from the other messengers is that you were the one to mobilize them, train them to protect themselves. While Eran trained his army of guardians, you trained the messengers to defend themselves against the Fallen Ones.”

“I did?” I was reserved now, amazed that I had absolutely no recollection, no intuition of having done the things Gershom was insisting.

“And then you hired families on earth to train messengers there too. Before you, messengers didn’t last more than a few years and then the Fallen Ones would find them and murder them. Before you, they had no defenses. You stopped it. You gave them a fighting chance. You changed everything, Maggie.”

My reaction to that news was subdued, to say the least. I sat quietly in awe of what I had just learned, trying to understand how I could have accomplished all that Gershom had said.

That type of work, that goal, wouldn’t be complete for lifetimes, possibly centuries. In fact, instinctually, I felt that the training, the defenses were still being pursued. I had always been driven to do what I thought was right but this…this lifestyle I had pursued went beyond moral dedication.

“That must be why the Fallen Ones want me dead…” I speculated.

“It’s definitely where it started. But I think you’ve acquired personal vendettas against you along the way.”

“Hmmm…well…that explains a lot.”

“It certainly does…”

“So I taught others how to exterminate them…” I said thoughtfully.

“Exterminate and imprison,” Gershom corrected. “The ones you and Eran have been able to catch are living the remainder of eternity in a prison that you helped design. The ones you haven’t caught yet know that or eternal death is what awaits them.”

In response, I groaned. “Finally, I understand the vehemence the Fallen Ones have for me, Eran…and the other messengers.”

Gershom sat beside me, pensive, shaking his head from side to side. Then, clearly hoping to change the subject to something more lighthearted, he asked about my housemates. It took our conversation on a winding course for several hours.

As was the case on this side, the daylight didn’t fade and the number of winged visitors to the communing area remained unchanged. The hours passed unnoticed by everyone but me. I had been here often enough to sense when dawn was approaching on earth and knew enough to say goodbye to Gershom before I felt the sudden yank pulling me back to my bedroom in New Orleans.

I awoke more eager than usual, sitting up in bed, my eyes darting around in search of Eran.

“It seems that someone is ready to start her day,” I heard his calm, confident voice before I was able to slow my eyes enough to find him.

When I could focus again, I realized he was sitting at the foot of my bed, watching me with a relaxed grin.

“Sleep well?” he inquired. “Maybe my suggestion to put you to sleep was a good one.”

“Suggestion?” I countered. “That was an order you gave Campion and you know it.”

His grin turned in to my beloved smirk. “It worked.”

I sighed in irritation. “Still, it’s uncomfortable enough not having control over where I go when I sleep. At least give me the option to choose when to go to sleep.”

“I can’t promise that…” he said. Seeing that I was about to protest, he added, “but I will promise that it will only be used when necessary.”

I considered this and, knowing I was not going to win this dispute, I did as Gershom had and changed the subject. “Where did you go last night?”

He shrugged casually as if he were simply out of town for the night and not on a dangerous undertaking to discover our enemy’s plans. “Germany, France. I made a stopover in London.”

There was little I recalled of my past lives with Eran but I had learned that these were the places we had lived. “Why our old stomping grounds?”

“Information can be found if you dig deep enough.”

“Were you able to dig deep enough?”

He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow to accentuate the silliness of my question. “It takes time, Magdalene. This won’t happen overnight despite your desire for it to be that way.”

I felt my shoulders fall. “So you do plan to go out again tonight…”

“I’ll be out every night until we learn what we need,” he replied with an apologetic smile.

I was afraid that would be his response.

“But,” he softened the blow of his confirmation by adding, “watching you sleep so peacefully this morning made me seriously reconsider it…”

“Good,” I retorted quietly.

“So…how about you get dressed, meet me in the kitchen, and then you can tell me how Gershom is holding up.”

I drew in a sharp breath. “I knew that was your plan…to send me to him to calm my nerves.”

He stood up and winked as he turned towards my bedroom door. “And you are you correct. See you downstairs.”

The kitchen this morning was bustling as usual. The door to the backyard was opened to allow the sweet scent of fresh air. Campion sat at the table, alert and quiet. Dressed in a button down shirt, plaid vest, and tweed slacks he looked more like a model from a men’s magazine than a first lieutenant.

“Nice clothes,” I stated, pouring coffee into a mug.

“Thank you. I flew to New York City this morning when Eran returned. I figure if I’m going to need to be here, than I’m going to do it in comfort.”

“And style,” Felix remarked approvingly, having a fondness for clothes.

Clearly, I was the odd one out, having no appreciation for fashion whatsoever.

“Mags,” said Felix moving fluidly around Rufus firmly planted at the stove, “Campion would like ideas on what he should do throughout the day. Any suggestions?”

“How about going with them to The Square?” I asked Campion.

Felix drew in a quick breath. “Excellent idea. It is the quintessential New Orleans experience.”

“No,” I corrected him. “I meant to watch over you…for added protection…”

Felix didn’t immediately respond, choosing to avoid me by pouring himself a glass of orange juice. I got the impression he was evading the suggestion.

“Campion? Do you mind?” I persisted.

He shook his head. “It’s what I’ve come here to do.”

Felix turned to Campion with a stiff smile. “Thank you.”

If Campion noticed Felix’s irritation, he certainly didn’t address it, preferring to answer simply, “You’re welcome.”

Eran arrived in the kitchen a few minutes later when Felix’s jovial mood had returned. He entered in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt fitting his body snuggly and making me catch my breath. He caught me staring and grinned before dropping his book bag on a kitchen chair.

“Campion,” he said, firm but genial.

“Sir,” Campion replied in nearly the same tone.

“We’ll be back after her last class,” he informed.

“I’ll be here.”

With plans for my evening protection in place, Eran and I took a few pastries from a package on the counter and headed for school. It came as no surprise that within a few minutes from school I began to feel the hair rise at the back of my neck.

“I feel them,” I informed Eran as we pulled into the parking lot.

Sure enough, a few new Fallen Ones sat in cars and casually strolled along the school pathways. Marco and his men were in a group near the front door. Each one of them immediately noticed us just as we did them.

To my surprise, Eran parked the bike anyways and waited for me to stand up.

“We’re safe,” Eran announced when he had slipped off his helmet. “I have a few on my team nearby.”

Even though he’d warned us that we wouldn’t be able to see or hear them, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing around as I removed my own helmet.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re covered no matter where you go.”

“Oh really? And what if I need to use the bathroom?” I teased.

He didn’t share my playfulness. “You’re still safe. I have females in my army.”

My eyebrows rose.

Noticing my reaction he added, “You’ll be proud to know they are among my best fighters,” he replied.

“I would expect nothing less,” I stated to which he chuckled.

We’d made it to the path leading to the main doors by that point when I asked, “So do you think they are here only for the show?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “Remain alert.”

“Ay, ay, Captain,” I said and gave him a weak salute.

“Colonel…” he corrected. “I’m the equivalent of a colonel. And someday I’ll show you how to correct that salute.”

I scoffed and playfully jabbed him in the ribs.

“Alert, Magdalene,” he reminded me.

“Yes, yes…colonel.”

“Better…” he said with a wink.

Throughout the day, the Fallen Ones did not interact with us, keeping a reasonable distance whenever we came across each other. Oddly, this made me more anxious. While Eran was thoughtful in his approach, bent in collecting information to build a skillful defense, I was the exact opposite. I simply wanted to get on with this battle rather than draw it out any further.

I wouldn’t get my wish.

The remainder of the week passed as I’d expected it would. More Fallen Ones arrived, though none were in my classes, which relieved Eran. They behaved like the rest of the student body and most of the faculty, watchful and suspicious of Eran and me. Bridgette and Marco even seemed to have backed off from us, although they did keep an intent eye when we were around.

The Fallen Ones made no additional attempts to taunt us. No one, not the students, faculty, or administrators, seemed to perceive them as anything different than what they portrayed. It made me realize that, despite their lack of humanity, ironically they blended in well with humans. I suppose this was because they’d originally started as one and after years, often centuries, on earth among us they’d either retained or learned our habits.

If it hadn’t been for Ms. Beedinwigg we’d have lived in an almost complete void within the walls of our school. Only she went out of her way to speak to Eran and me, starting conversations in the hallways and including us in class discussions. More so, she retained her identity, refusing to exchange her draping dresses, hair bun, chained eyeglasses, or combat boots. She stood out among the faculty in style and in personality. I liked her more each day.

A routine began to develop whereby Eran watched over me at school during the day and Campion at night. In fact, everything seemed to be moving along predictably…and then Friday night arrived and things began to change.

CHAPTER SEVEN: ASSAULT

Friday evening started out quiet with only an occasional breeze stirring the leaves to break the silence. It felt as if someone had closed a lid on New Orleans, cloaking the city in darkness, and causing all living beings to fall into hibernation.

My feet were propped against my balcony railing with my eyes focused on the spot where I last saw Eran leave for his nightly excursion. I was pondering when he would fill me in on what he’d learned. When I had asked he seemed hesitant, telling me simply that there wasn’t much to tell. I had a sense, however, that there may be something more but Eran was compelled – as always – to protect me, even if it meant keeping information to himself that he thought might alarm me.

From inside, I could see Campion reading, staying close by in case he was needed.

I sat, rocking my chair on the balcony, watching the sky, and missing Eran. Jazz music played in the distance and the smell of jambalaya floated up from a restaurant nearby.