Angel Fall (31 page)

V
eils of mist, veils within veils…

Golden, glistening, shimmering…

What is this?

As Tori entered the cathedral, she experienced exactly the opposite of what she had expected. Gone was the stench and horror; the air was filled with gentle perfume. No longer did the singing crash and groan. It was like soft voices whispering from Heaven. And the mist—the lovely mist—where it touched her skin, it tingled with soft, gentle coolness. As she breathed it in, all she wanted to do was dream—dream in the mist that swirled and danced around her. Slowly she took a few steps forward…and the mist began to fade.

Amazing!

Was it real?

Before her lay a chamber so vast and high that the ceiling was lost in twilight. The pillars that held it up were the trunks of huge old trees, and the floor was covered with moss. Among the tree-pillars stood golden statues that seemed to hover like singing angels.

But the light…

All she cared about was the dazzling light. It swept through the room in a dance of rainbows with such loveliness that she wanted to cry. Forgetting everything else, Tori began walking toward the light. No, not walking—drifting, dreaming. And then she saw it, far away, at the front, a place of such glory that it had to be the Heart of Heaven.

A golden staircase.

And above it a gigantic painter’s canvas that seemed to be coming down from the stars. Over it, out of it, roared a waterfall of fiery colors that crashed and splashed, transforming into the rainbow light that filled the room.

Walking…walking toward it, and the soft singing was all around her.

Walking toward the waterfall of light.

There was something under it. Something at the bottom. Something reaching out from the waves. A lovely hand. It was the crystal hand of a woman. And though it was very large, never had she seen anything so gentle and delicate. It was like the hand of a mother beckoning to her child. From the fingers ran streams of crimson starlight. Then came a sound that almost made her stop breathing. Out of the singing mist, a voice called her name.

“Tori…Tori…”

Shock! Had she really heard it? It came again, louder.

“Tori…where are you?”

Amanda!

It was Amanda’s voice.

She couldn’t believe it. “Amanda, I’m over here,” she yelled. And then she started crying.

“Tori, look up. Daddy’s home!”

The canvas—no longer was it flowing with fire and light. It was like glass. Like a window. And through it she could see into a home. Her home! Yes, her real home back on Earth—her living room, with her couch, her chairs, her pictures. And there was her family—all of them—Amanda, Alex, her mom…and her dad. He was right there, smiling at her. They were all smiling and laughing and waving from behind the window. Her sister yelled, “Come on, slow poke, what are you waiting for?”

There was a trembling vibration. She felt her body freeze. Then a tingling strangeness. Separating—she felt herself being pulled apart. Suddenly she was floating in the air, and the baby wasn’t with her anymore. Looking back, she saw herself, standing very still, with the little boy in her arms. But she didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore but getting to the window. She turned toward it, closer and closer, drifting until she was just outside the glass. She tried to touch it, but her hand passed right through. Alex grabbed it and pulled. Instantly she was standing in her living room, staring at all of them as though she had just awakened from a long nap.

Her brother yelled, “You’re home. We didn’t think you were ever gonna get here. You walk like a slug.”

They were all laughing and happy, so happy they looked almost like different people. Gone from Alex was the sneering coldness, and Amanda…in her eyes, there was no more hurt and pain. And most all, her mom. The terrible sorrow wasn’t there anymore. Gently her mother kissed her. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve been so worried about you. Look who’s here.”

“Hello, princess.”

And then Tori was in her father’s arms, hugging and crying and whispering, “Daddy, you’re here, you’re really here.”

“Yes, I’m really here.”

Then he twirled her just like he used to do when she was little. Twirled her round and round…

Dizzy, laughing, hugging, crying…

Yes, crying for joy.

“All right, you two, it’s time for dinner. The pizza’s done.” Her mother’s eyes were so beautiful when there was no sorrow in them. “Amanda, set the table. Alex, get the drinks.”

They crowded into the kitchen. The smell of hot pizza, oh, it was so delicious. And she was so hungry. Her mother took it out of the oven, dripping with cheese and stuffed with pepperoni and Italian sausage (but no vegetables, not a single crunchy thing). Then they all sat down, and her father cut a big slice and laid it on her plate. That first bite…she thought she had died and gone to pizza heaven. Tori started eating. And eating. Everybody laughed because she ate so much. When she couldn’t hold another bite, her dad yelled, “Table games! It’s Tori and me against all of you.” Of course, Alex and Amanda groaned. They always did that because they knew they were going to lose.

While the table was being cleared, her dad went to the closet and pulled out all of her favorite games, Clue and Sorry, Chutes and Ladders, Uno—boxes that she hadn’t seen in years. While they played, her mom made huge banana splits with vanilla ice cream and hot gooey fudge (but no nuts, only maraschino cherries). The first heaping spoonful dripped chocolate down Tori’s chin. She laughed so hard that more fudge ran from her mouth, which made everybody laugh until they thought they would throw up. Then she and her dad proceeded to win every game. And Tori was not a good winner. With each victory she gloated and giggled and snickered until it drove her brother and sister nuts.

Finally her mother said, “All right, everybody, it’s time for bed. You’ve all got school tomorrow.”

Of course, there was the usual whining. Tori begged, “Can’t I stay up just a little longer to be with Daddy?”

“It’s late and you’ve had a busy day. He can tuck you in.”

“Hey, I have a surprise for you.” His eyes twinkled.

“What is it?”

“It’s in your room. Hop on.” Jumping onto his back, he jiggled and joggled her into her bedroom and plopped her onto the bed.

“Butterfly kisses!” Bending down, he laid his face next to hers and tickled her cheek with his eyelashes. But instead of laughing, she started to cry.

“Hey, butterfly kisses aren’t supposed to make you cry.” He ran his fingers through her hair.

“I just can’t believe it,” she whispered. “You’re really here. I’ve missed you so much, Daddy.”

“And I’ve missed you, Sweetheart. I’m never going away again.”

“You mean that?”

“I promise.”

“But what about your family in England?”

“My only family is right here. I love each of you so much. And most of all, I love your mom.”

“I thought you hated her.”

“Oh, Tori, that isn’t true. I love her more than words can say. This is the only family that means anything to me.”

“But you left us.”

“Yes, I went away for a while and I made you cry. Will you forgive me for that? Will you forgive me for hurting you?”

She nodded, hugging him and sobbing even harder. “Every night I cried because you were gone.”

“And I’m going to make it up to you,” he whispered. “I promise you’re never going to cry again.”

“Will it always be like tonight? This is just like it was when I was little and we were so happy.”

“It’ll be just like this forever.”

But as she hugged him, a strange feeling came over her.
“Forever?”

“Yes, always and forever.”

Then she saw something. On the wall was a frame that hadn’t been there before. And in it was a picture. “What’s that?”

Smiling, he replied, “Oh, that’s the surprise, the little gift I told you about.”

The strange feeling grew. Climbing down from the bed, Tori walked over and stared at it. In the frame was a picture of her. She was surrounded with black clouds and looked very frightened. In her arms was the baby. Bending down, her father said, “Do you remember that awful place?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you never have to go back there again. You can stay here forever with your brother and sister and Mom and me.”

Tori looked at him. “I know what this is,” she said softly. “This is my dream, the one I had every night, that you would come back and love us again.”

“And now it can be real. But there’s something you have to do first.”

She felt a creeping coldness. “What is it?”

Gently he answered, “It’s about the baby. You have to leave him over there in the place where he belongs.”

Tears began running down her cheeks. Her father saw them and hugged her. There were tears in his eyes too. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know you love him. You’ve been carrying him close to your heart for so long. But you need to do what’s best for both of you. I know you understand that.”

“What do I have to do?”

“It’s very easy. You won’t even have to leave this room. Just look at the picture. Go ahead and look, Sweetheart.”

Tori turned toward the frame. Suddenly, looking through it was like being in two places at once—in her bedroom, yet standing in the cathedral with Aloi in her arms. She could feel him nestled against her. Through the frame, she saw the canvas flowing with mist and rainbows. And beneath it…the crystal hand.

“Now, think of yourself walking toward the stairs.”

It was so odd. Standing and not moving, yet at the same time walking and feeling the moss beneath her feet. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she stopped.

“All right, now go up the stairs and lay him in the beautiful hand. You’ve brought him home, Tori. He’ll be happy here forever.”

With tears brimming she looked up at her father. “So many times I dreamed this dream—that you would come home and be with us. And every time when I woke up I cried.”

“And now your dream has come true.”

“No, it hasn’t. Because to get it I have to kill the baby.”

“No, no, no, Sweetheart. What are you talking about? It isn’t killing him. It’s doing what’s best for him. It’s placing him in the Hand of God.”

Suddenly Tori’s eyes didn’t look like the eyes of a child anymore. In them was a great sadness. Quietly she said, “I know something now that I didn’t know before. Do you want to know what it is?”

“What is it?”

“You can’t make a dream come true by hurting someone else. That’s what you tried to do, Daddy. That’s why you went away. You hurt us to get what you wanted. And you’re not coming home. Not really. Not ever.” As she said the words, she felt her heart breaking and the beautiful dream begin to die.

Her father rose and towered over her. “Don’t you want me to stay, Tori? Don’t you want our family to be together?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then you’ve got to prove it. You’ve got to show me that you really love me—that you love all of us—by doing this one small thing.”

Into the room walked her mother and Amanda and Alex. Her mother was distraught. All the sorrow was returning. “Sweetheart, why won’t you do it? We need for you to do it.”

Desperately Amanda grabbed her hands. “Please do it, Tori. Do it so we can be together. If you don’t, it’ll be like it was before, and I can’t stand that. I’ll kill myself.”

“Save your breath. She doesn’t care about us. She’s just a spoiled little brat.” The rage and bitterness were back in Alex.

Her father bent down and stared deeply at her. “If you don’t do it, Tori, I’ll have to leave. And this time I’ll be gone forever.”

Tori looked at each of them. Then through her tears she said, “When I dreamed this dream, all it ever did was hurt me. And I don’t want it to hurt anymore. The dream isn’t real. But the baby is real. And I’ll never do anything to hurt him…even if I have to die.”

With a grinding crash, instantly she was back in her body. She felt Mirick nestled in her hair.
“Well done!”
he whispered.
“Now, prepare for his rage.”

S
hrieking wind roared around Tori. It was all she could do to keep from falling down. Gone was the loveliness of the cathedral, gone was the Heart of Heaven. The soft singing turned into a wrenching wail and the perfume into stench. Before her lay a chamber so vast and high its ceiling was lost in gloom. Veils of steaming mist and churning mold swirled between gigantic pillars. And in the billowing veils swarmed shadows and shapes—a sea of dead faces, rising and falling in the glistening dark.

The phantoms.

The Lost Ones.

The cathedral was infested with their terror. Stumbling backward, Tori bumped into something and almost fell. Looking down, she started to cry. On the floor beside her lay the little white tree with the face of Amanda. But before the tears could come she heard a whisper:

“Turn and see!”

She turned. In front of her were the golden stairs, and soaring above them was the canvas. No longer did it dance with rainbows. Down it poured waves of thick green oil that oozed onto the staircase and then simmered into the steam that filled the room. The delicate crystal hand had vanished. In its place, reaching through the waves, was the golden hand of a giant with gnarled fingers the size of tree trunks.

Suddenly at the top of the stairs appeared a silhouette shrouded in wreaths of smoke. Slowly the smoke parted. Standing above her was Alex. She was about to call his name when his mouth opened and from out of it came a roar.

“Praise to that which is fallen! Praise to the Lord of the Night!”

And all the shadows answered, “Sing the Song of the Lost Ones. Glory to the God who Burns Away Light!”

Then silence.

The chanting stopped and the wind died, and in the silence there was soft surging. Something was slithering in the oil on the canvas. A shape was beginning to form. Stroke by stroke, line by line, there appeared a face of such majesty and splendor that every creature in the cathedral froze in breathless awe. Eyes of shimmering starlight, soft skin painted in a thousand hues, male-female-angel-god. Towering in the mist, as though descending out of heaven was a Face of Glory.

Worship!

Worship!

The creatures in the cathedral fell prostrate in worship—all except for Tori and the little boy she held. Upon her came a crushing weight—she gasped, struggling to breathe. From out of the lips on the canvas came a sighing whisper,
“Life…I would have given it. All of your hopes and dreams fulfilled. But you turned away. Now death is all that remains.”

Threads of smoke. From the giant hand appeared wisps that formed into ghostly fingers. Drifting…rising…reaching toward her. The moment had come, she knew it. Hugging the little boy, Tori closed her eyes and prayed. All she wanted was to be as strong as Amanda, as strong as her sister until death came.

Waiting, waiting to die.

But then…
a shriek!

What was happening? Confused, Tori opened her eyes.

“Alex!”

The fingers were wrapped around her brother, and he was writhing. Screaming, he crashed down the stairs and fell at her feet, jerking and spasming.

“Stop it! Stop doing that to him!”

But it didn’t stop. It grew worse.

“Leave him alone! Get away from him!” Sobbing, Tori knelt and touched his hair. His face was drenched with sweat, his teeth were clenched, and his eyes rolled back.

“Will he live or will he die?” the Voice cried out.

“I hate you!” Tori screamed.

“But do you love your brother?”

“Yes, I love him!”

“Then look into his soul.”

As she stared, Alex’s skin became like smoke. Suddenly she could see inside his body, down, down, through flesh and bone, into the depths of who he was, into a terrible pit of darkness.

And something was living there.

Cowering and moaning was a tiny luminous shadow with her brother’s eyes. And wrapped around it hung a glowing serpent that was eating his life, sucking it away. Tori screamed and the vision disappeared. Over and over she sobbed, “Alex, I love you, I love you.”

“But do you love him enough to save him? Give me the child and I will set him free.”

Staring up at the face, Tori screamed, “No!”

“Then you do not love him.”

“I do love him!”

Waves of hate and rage, she could see them flowing from the fingers like black tendrils, strangling her brother’s life.

“Give…me…the child.”

Dying, Alex was dying. His life was slipping away. She couldn’t stand it. Suddenly her heart was drowning in darkness. She was killing her brother. Shaking, sobbing, she cried out, “Oh God, help me.” Then she looked into the baby’s eyes.

Such love!

He was crying too, as though he could feel her anguish. And in that moment the darkness broke, and her soul was flooded with light. Her sobbing stopped. Rising to her feet, she cried out, “I won’t do it. I won’t kill this baby…not even to save someone I love.” As she hugged the little boy, her face was shining. “If you want him, you’ve got to kill me first. So come and do it! You’ve murdered all the other children, kill me too!”

Instantly the monstrous face roared and the cathedral shook. The fingers left Alex and wrapped around Tori.

Agony!

She felt her life being crushed away.

But what she didn’t feel was a tiny movement in her hair.

A rush—a shriek of wind—and then,
raging fire!

Suddenly she was surrounded by a wall of emerald flame. The fingers vanished and she could breathe again. Tori looked up. Soaring above her was a Creature of dazzling Brightness. The phantoms were rushing away, as from the Creature came a voice like singing thunder. “Enough! The test is over and you have failed.”

The eyes in the oil were staring and out of them flowed hate.
“So, my brother, you have come.”

“How blind you are, Lammortan. I have been here all along, hidden in the hair of a child.”

Mirick, what’s happening?
Tori cried out in her mind.

From above, strange flaming eyes looked down at her. “Little Queen of the Children, the time for hiding has passed.”

She felt her hair. The moth was gone. “Mirick…?”

“Yes, Mighty Mirick,”
mocked the Voice from the oil.
“Mirick, Singer of Curses…Mirick, Worwil of the Throne.”

Tori stared up. It
was
Mirick. But he was huge, and his wings glistened with green and yellow fire. Around him burned a shimmering halo, and his eyes were flaming multifaceted globes. He was so different, so strange and frightening, and yet the same. As he looked down at her, she could feel his love.

Then he turned toward the face in the canvas. Once more the singing thunder echoed in the room, “I will not let you destroy the last innocent child on Boreth. You know the Law. The Choice of the Carrier has been made, and it cannot be changed.”

“Yes, her choice is made
,” the Face hissed,
“but do not think that I am defeated. There is one last child from another world…and he will obey.”

Mirick looked down. Alex lay unconscious on the floor. “The Law, Painter, the Law. To perform the test you must release him. His choice must be free.”

“Do not speak to me of law, my brother. Speak only of blood. For this is the night of all nights…when the last of the Worwil die.”
The golden hand began to glow. Slowly the huge fingers reached upward.

Mirick looked down at Tori. His eyes were soft, as one last time she heard his voice in her mind.
Daughter of Earth, I love you. Be faithful, and we will stand together before the Crimson Throne.

Before an eye could blink, the Creature that was Mirick became a living flame. As the giant hand streaked toward him, Mirick’s wings engulfed it and thunder shook the chamber.

Shrieking!
The Face on the canvas was shrieking, and the cathedral was filled with the stench of searing death. Though Mirick was in agony, from him came singing in a language that Tori had never heard. And then, above, she saw a vision. The ceiling of the cathedral disappeared, and down in an avalanche of splendor rushed millions of tiny flaming stars. As they encircled Mirick, she saw what they were.

Fireflies!

The fireflies of Heaven had come to escort him home.

The monstrous hand and the body of the Angel burned together, as the Face in the canvas shrieked. Then Tori heard something so wonderful that she never forgot it for the rest of her life; words weaving sorrow, full of anguish and love, higher and higher they flew. It was Mirick’s Death Song. As the fireflies swirled around him, his flame grew bright and he began to change. He was singing his soul out of his body—shedding his dying form like a burning chrysalis. Then his spirit broke free, and the most beautiful creature that Tori had ever seen hung in the air. His wings were living flames in a thousand colors, and his eyes were filled with the Fire of Heaven. Lifting his head, he cried out with joy, “Larggen of the Throne…lead me home!”

Blazing light and singing, such brilliance that Tori couldn’t stand it! She closed her eyes. Then silence and dark.

When she opened them again, all that was left of the gigantic hand was a blackened stump sticking out of the wall. And Mirick, the Singer, the tiny moth and Mighty Angel…was gone.

“Mirick, Mirick…,” she sobbed. But there was no answer.

The Voice, full of agony, screamed, “Take her!”

Instantly she was surrounded with glassy beings. Leaded fingers gripped her body and she was lifted into the air.

Then the voice cried out, “Awaken!”