Fire Prophet (Son of Angels) (24 page)

The three boys stood beside the woman, facing the soldiers. One of them screamed a war cry and threw his javelin. Jonah swerved his head just in time to watch the spear jam into a wall and disappear.

“I told you guys,” the prophet said as she rubbed her wrists, with a calmness that amazed Jonah, “Elohim was going to rescue me, and there was nothing you could do about it. I think it’s about time we leave. What do you think, kids?”

Jonah caught David’s eye, and in unison they pulled arrows off their backs, strung them, and released. Seeing teenagers shooting angelic arrows must have caught the soldiers off guard for a split second, and they were left with no time to react. The flaming tips found their mark.

For a moment, they sat squarely in their chests as the soldiers looked down at them. And then the Romans simply began to fall apart, as if they were made of crusty clay. An arm fell off, then a leg, another arm. Finally their heads hit the floor, and the rest of them collapsed in a heap.

“Ew, gross!” said Jeremiah.

Jonah looked at them in pieces on the ground. “Glad Eliza didn’t have to see that.”

Jeremiah grabbed the prophet’s hand, and they moved quickly through the next room and back onto the street. Jonah searched back and forth along the street for Eliza.

There was no sign of her.

“Eliza!” he called out. “E! Where are you?”

Jeremiah did the same.

“I’ve got you now!” The voice echoed around the corner of the building. “Come here, you . . .”

Jonah ran around the corner of the building to find Eliza trapped against a chain-link fence at the end of a small alley. A thug with a red Mohawk was walking toward his catch.

Jonah summoned all of the angel strength he had and ran toward the man, slamming his shoulder directly into his back.
The impact sent Eliza’s attacker through the air, landing against the fence right beside her. He crumpled to the ground, holding his head, dazed. The flash of Jonah’s angelblade lit up the alleyway as it tore through the Roman soldier. They watched as he fell apart, just as the others had.

“Disgusting,” said Eliza, backing away from the mess.

“Told you she wouldn’t like that,” said Jonah, smirking, as they rushed over to her.

“Are you okay, sis?” asked Jeremiah.

“Never better,” she said, smiling. “Good plan, huh?”

They nodded together.

“You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

The voice had come from behind them. They turned to find themselves face-to-face with the last soldier. Jonah saw the coldness of death in his eyes.

“Hi, Frank,” he said. “You’re not gonna fall apart like your friends, are you?”

The soldier smiled and tossed his javelin from one hand to the other, ready for a fight. “I don’t think you’ll find me as easy to manage, boy.”

Jonah had his hand at his side, ready to unsheathe the angelblade, but Jeremiah spoke up.

“Let me take care of this, guys.”

Jeremiah stepped forward, and as he did, Jonah saw him bow his head slightly, and the silver belt of truth appeared again around his waist. Jonah was impressed that he was already learning how to make it appear.

He moved toward the Mohawked Roman, staring him down as he walked.

The soldier chuckled. “This is who you’re sending to fight me?”

But this didn’t faze Jeremiah. He continued walking and raised his voice loud enough that everyone could hear.

“The truth is, because of Elohim, there is more power in a little guy like me than a thousand of you!”

The soldier couldn’t help but begin to laugh. But in a split second, his laughter, and all of the rest of him, was erased by a loud crack, and an invisible wave that erupted from the belt hit him.

He froze, then toppled over, falling to pieces on the asphalt street.

TWENTY-SEVEN

A T
ROUBLING
M
ESSAGE

S
treaks of faint light were beginning to break across the sky. It would be daybreak soon. Jonah looked up and down the street, making sure they were alone.

“Hi, I’m Jonah,” he said, extending his hand to the prophet. She smiled and took his hand in both of hers, squeezing it firmly as he said, “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard your voice in my head for a long time.”

“Ah . . . that explains some of this,” she replied. “My name is Abigail Honsou.”

Eliza, Jeremiah, and David also introduced themselves, and she shook their hands warmly, thanking them for their daring rescue.

They began to walk back down the street, retracing the path they had taken to get to the warehouse. Jonah quickly told her their story, and then finally had a few minutes to ask her the question he’d been trying to figure out.

“So how did you talk to me?” he asked. “How did you know
to . . . get in touch . . . or whatever, with me? Do you have some special prophet powers or something?”

Abigail chuckled, eyeing him as they walked along. “Do you really think I was calling out to you?”

“What do you mean?” he said, confused by her question. “I heard you talking to me.”

“Yes, but did you ever hear me call out your name?” she asked. “The first time I learned your name is Jonah was a few moments ago.” Her eyes twinkled at him.

Now Jonah was really confused. “But how . . . Why did . . . ?” He couldn’t complete his thoughts, much less his sentences.

Abigail placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jonah,” she said, “do you believe in the power of prayer?”

“Sure,” he said.

“And that Elohim answers every prayer that comes His way?”

“Yeah. I really do. I mean, I guess sometimes the answers aren’t what we want, but, sure, I believe He answers them.”

“Well Jonah,” Abigail smiled, “thank you for being the answer to my prayer.”

He shook his head in wonder, picturing Abigail tied up in her chair, tape over her mouth, calling out to Elohim for help. Of course she couldn’t somehow mentally contact Jonah. But she had cried out to Elohim, and He had answered her.

And His answer came in the form of Jonah.

He wondered what would have happened if he had decided to just ignore the voice inside him telling him to act.

Jonah thought for a minute more. “I saw you.”

She turned to him, intrigued by this. “What do you mean?”

“Like . . . a vision,” he said, looking away. “A few times. In dreams.”

“Has this happened to you before?” she asked, clearly curious. “Yes,” he answered. “Last year, when we were looking for my mother. She had been kidnapped by Abaddon’s right-hand man.” “Hmm.” She nodded thoughtfully but said nothing else.

“How long were you there?” asked Eliza, jumping into their conversation.

“Almost two days,” Abigail said. Jonah could hear the weariness in her voice now. “I was on the street in Chinatown, preaching as I normally do. I have some . . .” She paused. “Special gifts. I am a prophet of Elohim, after all. But no one has ever bothered me before. Suddenly, though, I was taken, snatched right up off the street in the middle of a crowd of people. Not one of them did a thing to stop it.”

“And then you were taken to the warehouse?” asked Eliza.

Abigail closed her eyes, nodding. “Yes. I must have passed out from the shock of it all. But when I woke up, I was tied to that chair just like you saw me in there.”

“So you can see into the hidden realm?” Jonah said, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. “You saw us today, but you also saw me and Eliza that day on the street, didn’t you? And you obviously saw your kidnappers.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh yes. Like I said, there are certain gifts that some prophets of Elohim have. That’s one of mine.”

Jonah wanted to ask her about her other gifts, but she suddenly stopped on the street corner. “Well, I’ve never seen that before.”

The street ahead was empty, except for a few joggers, so Jonah bowed his head and popped into the hidden realm. Immediately, a tall funnel of whirling wind appeared in front of him. It stretched up into the clouds above, but it didn’t make a sound. While he
was staring at the funnel, Jonah sensed the others slide into the hidden realm beside him.

“Do you think it’s . . . ,” said Eliza.

“An Angelic Vortex,” answered David. He looked at her. “What else could it be?”

“Maybe someone wants to talk to us,” said Jeremiah. Jonah glanced at Eliza and David, and shrugged his shoulders.

They crossed the street, approaching the funnel slowly. Jeremiah grabbed Jonah’s and Eliza’s hands, and Eliza extended her other to David. He and Jonah clasped hands with Abigail. Then they all took one big step through the funnel wall.

After momentarily losing the ability to see anything and feeling a rush of wind, they found themselves standing in the center of the cyclone.

“Wow,” said Abigail. “Impressive.”

“Totally awesome!” agreed Jeremiah.

They were looking at an image that had formed on the inner wall. An angel had his back turned to them, clearly distracted by what was going on in the distance. He fired one arrow, and then another, ducking, and then crouching down behind a steel trash can. The chaos of battle was erupting around him.

Jonah knew who it was before he turned around.

“Henry!” he called out. “Henry! Can you hear us?”

Henry, their old guardian angel, turned around, clearly frazzled by the battle raging around him. “Jonah, Eliza, Jeremiah— is that you?” He craned his neck toward them as if it were hard to see. “It is! Excellent. I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now. We figured your approximate location, but without an angel with you, we had no way of direct communication. Glad you saw the funnel.”

Eliza spoke up. “Henry, where are you? What is going on?”

Henry ducked down again, and behind him they could see angels and the Fallen fighting one another. There were also people who appeared to be human, but it was impossible to tell. He looked over his shoulder before he spoke again.

“As you can see,” said Henry, somehow managing his typical smile, “we’re under quite an attack by the Fallen. They’ve—” An explosion ripped through the background, and his lips continued to move, but they couldn’t make out what he was saying. Other noises from the battle began to fill their ears. Apparently Henry’s location was being overrun.

“Hope for reinforcements, but . . . Abaddon’s forces are . . . prayer barrier didn’t hold . . . quarterlings fell asleep . . .”

“Henry!” Jonah said. “We can’t hear you very well.”

But he kept right on trying to talk.

“I guess he can’t hear us very well either,” said Eliza, and then yelled, “Henry!”

All of the sound was gone now. The screen began to flicker in and out. They watched as Henry looked over his shoulder again, and either dove—or fell—to the ground. It was impossible to tell which.

Then the image was gone. The swirling cone suddenly stopped turning, and within seconds all was still.

“Henry looks like he’s in trouble,” said Jeremiah slowly. “We need to go help him.”

“Worse than that,” Eliza said, “it’s obvious he was at the convent. Did you see the building in the background?”

Jonah grimaced. “It looked the same as the brick building across the street.”

“Did you catch what he said? The prayer barrier didn’t
hold,” said David. “Did he say that some of the quarterlings fell asleep?”

“It sounded that way,” answered Jonah. “The wall must have weakened.”

“We need to get back now,” Eliza said. “They need our help.”

How else could they get back there, though, but walk as fast as they could? Jonah and David couldn’t carry all of them with their sandals of speed.

They dug into the journey, but they were easily forty blocks away. Jonah figured it would take them about an hour to walk.

As they rounded the next street corner, though, a taxicab was idling. Three people emerged, and one of them reached in and handed the driver some money.

Jonah and his friends prayed themselves out of the hidden realm, and Eliza immediately started running toward the cab. “Cab!” Eliza shouted, waving her hand. “Taxi! Wait!”

“You want to ride in a taxi . . . again?” asked Jeremiah.

But she ignored him and ran up to the rolled-down window and grabbed it with both hands.

The old cab driver looked in his rearview mirror. “You got five. I can only take four.”

Eliza motioned to her younger brother behind her back, and Jeremiah bowed his head and immediately disappeared into the hidden realm with a giggle. Eliza was not going to take no for an answer. She cocked her head to the side as she looked at the cabbie and countered innocently, “You must be mistaken. There are only four of us.”

The cab driver rubbed his eyes, looked again, and sighed. “You got money?”

David nodded and got into the front seat of the cab, while
the other four crammed themselves into the back with invisible Jeremiah perched on Jonah’s lap.

“Take us to the Convent of Saint John of the Empty Tomb, please. And if you could go as fast as possible—” Eliza instructed.