The Journey (28 page)

“Are you a dragon?”

“Nope. I’m the Angel of Death.”

“Death?
You
?”

“I know, right? The look
always
throws people off.”

“You’re not kidding.” I glanced over her angelic form. “I’ve always seen death as a dude in a long black robe, skull-shaped face, ominous looking scythe.”

“Yeah… that’s what most people expect. I
do
wear black sometimes. But I’m not a dude… and you can’t see my skull. Oh… But I
do
have a scythe. Several, actually.”

While still smiling her heavenly smile, she extended one diamond wing—nearly blinding me. She chuckled.

“Pretty, huh?

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

“I know, but
these
are my favorite.”

Her enchanting pink eyes sparkled as she watched her claws extend. She clinked them together, and giggled again.

“Exquisite, aren’t they?”

“Yes… they are. So… have you come to claim my soul then?”

“That wasn’t in my plans, no. I was on my way back home—Jinn, the ninth layer of the universe—when I saw you sitting here all by your lonesome, writing in that book. I was curious, as I often am.”

“Were you here on Earth delivering death?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I’m just coming back from a great war… one I inadvertently caused.”

“Was it… Was it in Japan?”

“How did you know?”

“The Angel I hold a bond with… he told me of an important summons.”

“Angel? You wear the manacle of an Angel? Whose?”

I lifted my hand, only to see that the red tattoo encircling my finger was now gone.

“Oh… Well… He
did
say that death would sever our blood tie. I guess I really
am
dead.”

“Of course you’re dead.” She chuckled. “Tell me the Angel’s name.”

“The one who killed me… or the one I was bound to?”

“An
Angel
killed you?”

I nodded. “This is the entrance to his
lair
, I guess you could say. I wrote the whole mess down in this book. I’m a—I
was
—a Witness. My job was to record everything concerning my task, my journey. Which is why I am
still
writing. The Journey hasn’t yet ended, I suppose.”

“Oh… I see…” The enchanting little Death Angel peered into the cave. “So… which Angel gave you his manacle?”

“Uriel.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide for an instant, then she held her belly as she laughed. “No way… I can’t believe it… That stuffy old Arch actually went out of his way to help you? Even gave you his manacle?”

“Yeah… He was terribly nice to me—especially after he understood I was only teasing him sometimes.”

“Uriel doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.”

“No, he doesn’t. But once he understood me a little better… he was extremely gentle and caring. He said I reminded him of someone.” I reflexively fingered one of my curls as I recalled my first meeting with the Archangel. “He said he wanted to help me. Sort of… save me from myself.”

“How so?”

“I was aligned with a fallen Angel.” I jabbed my thumb back toward the cave. “Uriel said that the friendship I had formed with that bad Angel down there would… well… taint my soul. He said Azazel would be my undoing. I guess he was right. Anyway, Uriel made a blood bond with me so that
he
could provide the fuel I needed on my journey.”

“Oh… I see.”

I thought I saw tears gather in the tiny Angel’s mesmerizing eyes, but she quickly batted them away.

“Uriel is a good guy. His intentions are pure—always.” She paused. “So… how did you end up like
this
?”

“I was attacked while doing research in Paris… left destitute and alone. Uriel was attending the same summons you were, I suppose. He couldn’t come to me. So… I waited in the catacombs until Paltiel let me back into the Nether.”

“The catacombs of Paris?”

I nodded.

She smiled softly. “…I’ve been there before.”

I didn’t speak, only waited for her obviously fond memory to fade.

She finally focused back on me, her brow slowly furrowing. “So… Uriel couldn’t help you because of me. Then… you died because of me.”

“It wasn’t
your
fault…
or
his. My own poor decisions left me in the state you now find me.”

Neither one of us spoke for a long moment.

“Well… I’ve never actually
escorted
a soul before, but I can’t exactly leave you here like
this
.” Naga gathered up my books. “Tell me, Jem Stone, where would you like to go? Where is your Otherworld?”

My heart swelled. “Oharaimachi, Japan. I want to go be with Drella.”

“Alrighty then, Drella it is. Oh… And if I’m not actually supposed to take you there, someone else will come along and fix it. Okay?”

I smiled. “I understand.”

“Well… hang on.”

Epilogue

“What are all these books for, Naga?”

She turned toward Raphael as she closed the handwritten journal. “I escorted a soul today.”

“Wha— When did
that
happen?”

“On my way back from Gokula. This lady died… and no one came for her.” She turned toward Gabriel. “How does something like that happen—a soul going unnoticed?”

“Hard to say.” He sat his teacup down. “Are you certain she was alone? No other Angel was there?”

“Sitting all by herself on the side of a mountain… twinkling like the loneliest little star I’d ever seen.”

“How did she die?” Raphael twirled one of her curls around his finger. “Tell us. What befell that twinkling little human soul?”

The Angel of Death glanced back down at the journal she was holding. “A tragic thing… She had so much left to do.”

“She was young?” Gabriel asked softly.

“Not a babe, but not yet wrinkled. She said she was… a Witness.”

Raphael and his elegant golden-haired brother exchanged glances.

“She said an Angel killed her.”

They both turned back to Naga as she spoke.

“She wore the blood manacle of an Arch… but a fallen Angel snuffed out her life.” She tucked a pink curl back behind her ear. “All because of
my
foolish pride—removing my mask to reap Akio’s little brother…”

“Shhh, baby sis.” Raphael rubbed little circles across her back. “This is not your fault.”

“I may not have taken her life with my claws.” She looked down to her trembling hands. “But the guilt is mine, all the same.”

“How can you be for certain that—”

“It’s all right here.” She cut off Gabriel’s words when she held up Jem’s journal. “Every last word. Her existence was solitary, yes, but happy and content and… pretty much perfect. She did so many things for others, had so many things yet to do. But because of the war in Gokula… because of the wrath I set to purpose in Akio’s father… you all were summonsed to guard the portals.”

Jophiel entered then, but stopped short.

Uriel nearly ran into him.

“Jophiel, why did you—” Uriel’s eyes went wide when he saw the book Naga was holding. “Where did you get that?”

Naga silently stood and made her way over to her easily-vexed brother.

“She wanted you to have this, Uriel.”

“But how did you…”

“She asked me to give you this… and the tomes she had acquired along her journey.”

Uriel looked then to the books stacked up on the end of the coffee table. Then down to his left hand… and the now-invisible manacle there.

“Our bond was severed,” he barely whispered. “At almost the same instant our summons was complete.”

“I found her sitting on the side of a mountain on layer eight… just as I was getting ready to enter the clouds. Uriel… I am so wretchedly, mournfully… sorry.”

“What happened to her? She kept calling out for me, but I couldn’t—”

Naga placed the journal in Uriel’s large hands and tenderly squeezed them. “You should read it in
her
words. I think she wanted you to. As for what happened to her afterwards… I took her to Oharaimachi.”

“…The Seeker.”

“Yes, Drella. That was her one request. I left her at a beautiful ancient bridge—painted bright red and arched like a rainbow. I watched her, Uriel. I did not leave until I knew she was safe in her Otherworld.”

Their teary gazes met, but Uriel didn’t speak.

“She was hesitant at first… said something about it not being dusk yet. Then, one uncertain step at a time, she started over the bridge. She hadn’t even gone more than ten feet when a handsome, blue-eyed young man appeared at the other side. Jem’s eyes lit up when she saw him—the happiest tears I have ever witnessed. They ran towards each other then… met at the very crest of that enchanting arched bridge. The young man wrapped her up in his arms and they spun around and around. When I entered the clouds, her laughter was still ringing about me.”

Uriel just stared silently down at the journal.

“We talked for a bit—me and Jem Stone.” Naga smiled softly. “She was extremely passionate about her task. Still is, I suppose. I found her terribly fascinating.”

“Yes… she was,” he mumbled quietly, then turned to go.

Jophiel made to follow him, as usual. Naga quickly grabbed his arm and looped hers through it.

“Give him a quiet moment alone, Brother. Come. Have some tea with me.”

Jophiel looked at her sideways as one corner of his mouth turned up. “Only if
I
get to sit beside you this time. Raphael is always hogging the couch—clinging to your side and playing with your hair.”

Raphael smirked as he moved to another chair. “Jealous much, Brother?”

“Not
much
,” Jophiel answered flippantly. “There’s really not much to be jealous
of
—all that non-golden hair brushing your shoulders. You don’t even
look
like an Arch.”

“And what of my might, delicate Brother? Does
it
seem as an Arch to you?”

Jophiel shrugged his shoulders. “A bit barbaric, if you ask me.”

“Barbaric?”

They continued to quarrel as Gabriel poured their tea.

The tiny Death Angel was smiling, happily content that things seemed to be normal again. When Gabriel caught her gaze, he knowingly winked. She couldn’t help but chuckle.

*****

Uriel closed Jem’s book, gently brushing his fingertips across the ornate words she had sketched across the cover… The Journey. He smiled softly, wiped his cheeks, then disappeared into the transporting cloud bank.

Father Robert poured himself another drink as he lightly caressed the picture on her home screen—orchids and dragonflies. He sniffed before emptying his glass.

“She’s dead, you know.”

The priest jumped to his feet, dropping Jem’s phone atop his desk as he stumbled backwards.

Uriel was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I just thought you should know… in case you were wondering.”

Father Robert only stared—wide-eyed and silent—at the glorious, glowing man.

Uriel slowly approached the desk and picked up her cellphone. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

“How…” Father Robert swallowed hard. “How did she die?”

“Why do you care? You abandoned her. Left her to starve and grovel in the streets.” The Angel touched the little blinking envelope on the screen, then smiled. “Would you look at that?” He turned the phone toward the priest. “Did you
know
the bank had returned her money the day after she came to you?”

The man didn’t answer.

Uriel turned to go.

“Please… tell me what happened to her.”

The Angel slowly turned back to face the trembling man. He held the priest’s terrified gaze for one long moment.

“After two days of your intentional neglect… she determined to go into the streets to rummage through your city’s garbage. Instead, she read there was an entrance to the Nether… deep within your ancient catacombs. She went down there. Alone. In the dark. That poor woman crawled on her hands and knees through that pitch black maze. The Gatekeeper eventually stumbled across her a day and a half later. She was babbling, feverish, diseased.”

“But I… I did not harm her. I did nothing to her.”

“It is as you say. You did not raise a hand to Jem, no, but neither did you help her. Whether you struck that gentle woman over the head, or simply hid within your office while she cried outside your door… the mark against you is the same. You. Did.
Nothing
.”

When tears trickled down the priest’s face, Uriel had to keep telling himself to
restrain
his awesome spiritual pressure.

“Before Paltiel could return with help… Jem went to the Bound One she had befriended, or so she thought. He held her there—pinned against his side while he cut off her breath… and watched her soul leave its vessel.”

Father Robert collapsed back into his chair.

“All because she tried to share the truth with you… All because she was too pure of heart to be anything less than genuine… Azazel is not the only creature this deed will fall upon.” Uriel turned back to the door, pausing when he grasped the knob. “Tonight… when you pray,
Priest
… pray it is not
I
who receives your summons. Pray that your fate lies in hands far gentler than the ones you deserve.”

*****

Back at Naga’s palace on Jinn, Uriel ignored the ever-lively discussion going on amongst his brethren.

Jophiel glanced over his favored brother’s shoulder when he noted the gentle smile now turning up the mighty Archangel’s lips. He caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired woman standing in the ruins of what was once a grand, Scottish Castle. She had a huge smile plastered across her face and a large book wrapped up in her arms.

She looks happy
, Jophiel said via their shared Arch-link.

She always looked like that
, Uriel said.
Always.

The Angel slid his thumb across the glowing cellphone screen again… and smiled anew.