Fire Prophet (Son of Angels) (27 page)
Abigail beamed at him. “There’s another thing too. Remember on the street, back in Chinatown, as I was speaking Elohim’s word—do you remember how your chest began to glow brighter and brighter?”
“Yes,” he said. His chest had felt almost like it would catch fire. “I do.”
“Well,” she said, “that’s a sure sign of something—you’re like me. A connection all of us share. Those of us who are prophets of Elohim.”
Jonah’s mouth dropped open.
“I’m . . . a prophet? Like you?” he said. “So the visions . . . the dreams I’ve had in the past . . .”
“Those visions and dreams you have can sometimes tell you what others struggle to see. Other times, they can tell you what is happening, even if you are not there to witness those things yourself . . . and sometimes maybe even what
could
happen, if certain things come to pass. There are even times when you will receive information from Elohim that not even the angels know. It is a wonderful, terrifying thing, this gift we share. But there is no mistake—
you are a prophet, Jonah Stone
.”
She eyed the flame descending toward her, growing closer and closer. Her voice sounded tired, but satisfied. “Your time has just begun. But now, mine is finished. Elohim has accomplished what He wanted through His servant. And I am ready. So very ready to go home to Him.”
Tears formed in her eyes as Abigail smiled at Jonah, squeezed his shoulders tightly, and then walked over to the middle of the street, turning her eyes upward again. She raised her hands in the air and closed her eyes, a look of pure peace on her face.
The flame descended over her, hovered for a second, and then enveloped her entirely. The last Jonah saw of Abigail were her eyes, opening wide, with a look of both surprise—and delight. As if she had just seen something better than she’d ever imagined.
And then, like a breeze snuffs out a candle, she was gone.
B
enjamin and Eleanor embraced their kids on the sidewalk. The five members of the Stone family stood huddled together.
“Kids,” Benjamin said, “when we heard that there was an attack here, that they had discovered your location, we had to come. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you did,” Eliza said, hugging her dad again. “But we all could have been killed, you know.”
“As long as the three of you are safe,” said Eleanor, rubbing her daughter’s back, “your father and I would gladly pay any price.”
It wasn’t long before Jeremiah was telling a very dramatic version of their rescue of the prophet, which kept his parents spellbound and chuckling at the same time. Eventually the adults gathered together with the nuns, Kareem, and the Clamwaters. After talking for some time, they all knelt together in prayer.
Jonah was sitting on the sidewalk, watching the group with David and Eliza. They were busy rehashing the battle, but Jonah
had been quiet, shaken by Abigail’s words, and even more by her departure.
“Watch this, guys,” David said, pulling Jonah out of his own thoughts. He nodded toward Roger and Rupert Clamwater, who were speaking with Benjamin. They nodded, and then knelt together in the middle of the street.
Another kid walked up and said something to Benjamin. Jonah watched as his father smiled kindly and spoke to him. Soon he was kneeling down with the others.
“It’s Frederick,” said Jonah in amazement.
As they prayed, Jonah and the others couldn’t resist entering the hidden realm to see the beautiful white tendrils of light again, and this time they saw Roger’s, Rupert’s, and Frederick’s bodies suddenly take on a glow, the same glow that all followers of Elohim have. In that instant, as they surrendered themselves to the loving Father, they moved into the Light.
“This is what this fight is all about, you know,” said David. “It’s what we are here for. This is the battle, right in front of us, being won.”
“Remember the prophet Elijah?” asked Eliza.
Jonah nodded. “A little. Wasn’t he the guy who—”
“Called Elohim’s fire down from heaven.” She smiled. “It burned up the altar that he’d built.”
“And the prophets of the evil one were put to death,” David added.
“Yep, and then the Bible says that he didn’t just die like a normal person. He was taken up into heaven in a chariot made of fire.” She raised her eyebrows at them, the connection to Abigail obvious.
“She was just like Elijah,” Jonah murmured.
Jonah walked over to the place where the prophet had been standing only minutes before. There was something on the ground. He bent over, feeling the heat come off the asphalt, still hot from the flames. A piece of cloth lay there, all the colors of the rainbow represented in it.
“It’s Abigail’s scarf,” he said, holding it up for Eliza to see. “All that’s left of her.”
“Just like Elijah’s cloak,” Eliza said. Jonah folded it up neatly and pushed it into his back pocket. He wanted to remember her.
Jonah, Eliza, and David slipped out of the hidden realm and walked over to join the other quarterlings, who were gathered together in front of the convent doors. Bridget and Lania were loudly congratulating everyone. Carlo was high-fiving every quarterling and nephilim he could, and Andre was walking around slapping his friends on the back. Ruth gave her brother a big, tearful hug. Even Hai Ling had joined in with the others and wore a smile on her face. Kareem and some of the nuns had come over and were speaking with them.
Julia stepped forward and hugged Jonah. He felt blood rush to his face, but he didn’t push her away.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” she said, looking up into his eyes. As if suddenly realizing everyone was watching, she stepped back with the other quarterlings.
“Thanks,” he said shyly. “You too.”
Jonah greeted the others, and soon they were telling and retelling the stories of their battle with the Fallen. Everyone had fought hard. Frederick stood on the outside of the circle, staring quietly into the street.
Jonah excused himself from the others and walked toward him, clearing his throat.
“Hey, Frederick,” he said. “Just wanted to say . . . thanks. Thanks again. You saved my life back there.”
All of the arrogance was gone from Frederick’s face. He nodded, shifting his feet, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets.
“I figured you’d have had my back out there too,” he finally said. He smiled, and they slapped hands together.
“And hey, I saw what happened,” said Jonah. “There on the street. That was really cool. Congratulations.”
Frederick looked at him squarely. “After what I’ve seen today, I’d be crazy not to give my life over to Elohim. I figured it was time to get on the right side of this battle.”
Jonah nodded, and they walked over to congratulate the others.
But the thought of the fate of the angels dampened their celebration. Camilla, Marcus, Taryn, Samuel, and Henry were all gone. Crushed into white powder by the fallen angels. What would they do without their instructors and their protectors?
Then, right before their eyes, in the middle of the street, an angel stepped into view. Like she had moved through an invisible doorway. She had a starry haze around her, different from the warrior angels or the guardian angels Jonah was used to seeing. Her massive wings were spread wide. She wore no angelic armor and had no visible weaponry. Jonah wasn’t sure what it was, but the air around her seemed to ripple, glittering with different colors as it shifted, picking up on the sunlight like a prism.
Four more of these angels stepped out of thin air right behind her.
The first angel stood in front of the quarterlings, who had stopped their conversations in midsentence, staring at her.
She smiled and bowed deeply. “I am Elizabeth, a messenger
angel sent by Gabriel for your service. We serve at the pleasure of our Lord Elohim. I have a message for you.”
The students stood in front of the angels, hanging on every word from her lips.
“Well done, good and faithful servants,” she declared. “You have served faithfully and withstood the attacks of the Evil One.
“But there is another message I have for you all,” she continued. Her voice suddenly sounded grave. “You are not safe here for long. The Fallen know where you are, and they will regroup. You must come with us at once. Your instructors and protectors will join you.”
Jonah, Eliza, and Jeremiah looked at one another. Jonah saw the same spark of hope in their eyes that he suddenly felt.
The angels had somehow survived. They couldn’t die after all.
Jonah raised his hand slowly. “Uh, excuse me.”
The angel Elizabeth leveled her gaze on him. It was almost too much for him to take. “Yes, Jonah Stone?”
“Well, it seems like we only just got here. Do we really have to leave?”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Only if you want to live.”
Jonah sighed. Exhaustion was about to overwhelm him. But he couldn’t deny the thrill that the words of the angel gave him, and the excitement he felt about the path Elohim had them on. He had no idea what was next. Right now, that didn’t matter.
He stepped toward her, and Eliza and Jeremiah moved with him.
Wherever the road led, they were ready.
T
here are so many people to thank, who hold untouchable places in my heart and whose support makes some amazing things possible. Like life. And writing a novel.
To my kids, Bailey, Christopher, and Luke: simply put, you are the reason I write. You inspire me, make me laugh, keep me honest, encourage me, and help me dream bigger and better. You make me want to be a better dad. Your mom and I are so proud of you.
Mom and Dad: your relentless love for me has been overwhelming, tangible, and fuel for my sometimes-weary heart. I don’t have to look far to see a picture of what commitment to a family looks like. Mom, you have shown me what selfless sacrifice to those you love is all about. Dad, your spiritual leadership has made a lifelong impact on me, as has your love of reading, stories, and books.
Bill and Martha: your tireless support of our family has been nothing short of amazing. You’ve cared for the kids countless times so that I could write. More importantly, you have shown us
through your example that even in the middle of tragedy, God is still God, and that He is still good.
Amy and James, Jamie and Catherine, Brian and Dianne: you are the epitome of what family should be. Your enthusiasm and genuine excitement over these books have given me more strength than you probably know.
And to Dana, my second sister: there aren’t enough words to express what you have meant to the kids and me this year. You
get it
, in a way no one else can, and for that I am profoundly grateful. You are irreplaceable.
To all of my family: your support during some of the darkest days of my life has given me hope, reminding me that the One who has begun a good work in us will be faithful to carry it on to completion, and that our trials, while real today, will one day be old stories to tell.
This book would never have happened without the wonderful people I’ve had the pleasure to work with at Thomas Nelson. Molly Hodgin is a brilliant, insightful, and creative editor. I’m grateful we’ve been on the same page with this series from day one. Thanks also to Micah Walker for keeping us on track and providing critical insight of your own. The entire Tommy Nelson team is second to none, and it was a privilege to partner with them on this book.
I also owe a special thank-you to author Robert Whitlow, who is both a friend and a mentor. Without your early encouragement for my writing, your wise advice, and your selfless generosity, these books would never have seen the light of day.
May God use this novel, and my life, for His purposes and glory here on earth.
Jerel Law
May 10, 2012
J
erel Law is a gifted communicator and pastor with eighteen years of full-time ministry experience. He holds a master of divinity degree from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and began writing fiction as a way to encourage his children’s faith to come alive. Law lives in North Carolina with his family. Learn more at
www.jerellaw.com
.
