The Broken Window (17 page)

Creeping shadows coalesced, catching at the auburn-haired angel’s ankles and winding through his wings. Before the Guardian could jerk free, spines encircled him from behind, the decrepit wingtips locking around him in a creaking cage. “Hello, Tamaes,” a smooth voice greeted.

“Adin,” Tamaes stiffly acknowledged.

“Ever the fool,” his former comrade said smugly. “How does it feel to be betrayed by the One you serve?”

Tamaes’s features hardened into grim lines. “Is that what you think?”

“I know it!”

“Then
you
are the fool,” the Guardian calmly retorted, despite the crushing grip that prevented him from raising his sword.

“The God of heaven Sent you into darkness,” Adin mocked, his eyes flashing briefly to the seven cherubim hovering just overhead. With a sneer, he dragged Tamaes backward, promising, “In darkness you shall remain.”

U
sually, Prissie loved a long day of puzzles and board games, but she was having the worst time fitting in with her family’s diversions. She could feel the long looks Koji was sending her way, but so far, she’d been dodging them. Momma noticed the difference. “Are you feeling okay, sweetie?”

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it felt like one. Managing a brighter expression, she said, “I think I’ll follow Tad’s example and take a little nap.”

Her mother relaxed. “I might do the same. Go on, then.”

Prissie slipped from the kitchen, escaping up the back stairs, but she didn’t go all the way to her room. Instead, she chose a spot halfway up and sat on a step, hugging herself in the dim passage. The storm seemed to have smothered
all the sunlight, but it wasn’t as dark as her dream had been. Shivering at the memory, she bowed her head and wished for a way to know what was happening to her friends.

A soft sound made her glance up, and she saw Koji peeking his head around the corner below, his dark eyes uncertain as he gazed up at her. With a sigh, she waved him over, and he tiptoed lightly up to join her on the stairs. “Why are you grieving?” he asked.

“The place where Ephron is,” she ventured. “It’s dark there.”

He cocked his head quizzically, but replied, “Yes.”

“I saw,” she explained, then shook her head. “I mean … I couldn’t see.”

Koji’s eyes widened somewhat, but then his gaze softened. “When did you meet?”

“This morning. Just before… .”

Nudging closer, he asked, “Were you afraid?”

“A little.” Leaning her arm against his, she mumbled, “Or … a lot. I still am.”

“Why?” the young angel inquired. “We have been Sent.”

Knotting her fingers together, she asked, “Do you know what’s happening?”

“No.”

“Don’t you usually keep up with each other … somehow?” she pressed. “I thought you could talk to each other in your heads … or something?”

“Neither Harken nor Milo have conferred with me this day,” Koji reported gravely. “Would you like me to see if they have good tidings?”

“Would you?” she pleaded. “Something’s
strange
about today. I don’t like this storm!”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I will see if anyone is listening.”

“Thank you,” Prissie whispered.

Koji hesitated, then admitted, “It is easier for me in dreams. Would you be my Guardian for a time?”

There was a sparkle in his eyes, and Prissie suspected he was making a joke. “If I have to,” she replied, fond in her exasperation. To her surprise, he nestled closer, resting his head against her shoulder and letting his eyes drift shut. Suddenly self-conscious, she whispered, “Here?”

He hummed softly and reached for her hand. “Yes, please.”

Prissie quickly wrapped her arm around him, holding him up as he slipped into dreams. It was almost like a hug, and then it became a hug because she needed something to hold onto. Her arm tightened around Koji’s shoulders, and she laid her cheek atop his head and hoped his news would be good. Her conscience twinged, and with chagrin, she closed her eyes and prayed it would be good as well.

Slowly, the worst of her fears ebbed away, for Prissie found that clinging to faith was easier when you embraced a citizen of heaven. Somehow, everything would turn out okay. It just
had
to.

Right before dinner, Neil thudded down the back stairs, nearly bowling over Prissie and Koji. The sixteen-year-old yelped, “Whoa, you two! What’s with the road block?”

Prissie blinked blearily at her brother. Koji hadn’t stirred in so long that she’d almost dozed off herself. Ignoring the question, she took in Neil’s plaid pajama pants and oversized sweatshirt and guessed he’d been relaxing in his room. He was far from relaxed, though. Eyes wide and hands shaking,
he was almost beside himself. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Uhh … kinda, but keep it down,” he replied with a grimace. “I need to talk to Dad.”

With that, he angled past them and hurried on through the kitchen door. Koji roused, and Prissie let her arms fall to her sides as he straightened, gazing intently after Neil. “Things are happening,” the young Observer said, his expression pensive.

“What kinds of things?”

Shaking his head, Koji announced, “Harken said to stay with you.”

“Weren’t you doing that anyhow?”

“Indeed.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Come on, let’s see what Neil’s all worked up about.”

Prissie glanced at the clock on her way through the kitchen, where Grandma Nell was already starting to pull together leftovers for a late supper. Neil was dragging their father into the tiny adjoining office space, and without a second thought, she followed.

Her older brother glared at her, but he didn’t tell her to get lost. Instead, he held a warning finger to his lips, and in some distant part of her mind, Prissie appreciated the show of trust on Neil’s part. She would be in on this secret.

Jayce’s attention was fixed on Neil. “Son?”

“R-right,” he replied, scrubbing at his face before rambling into an explanation. “So … I was upstairs, and I had the scanner on. It’s kind of a mess out there today. All kinds of trees down, power outages, damage to buildings, broken windows at Trinity, spin-outs … and stuff.”

“Sure, sure.” Dad eyed his son with a trace of confusion. Prissie had never seen Neil so pale and subdued, and a knot formed in her stomach. The teen rubbed the back of his neck and seemed uncertain how to go on, so their dad coaxed, “What is it, Son?”

“There’s a fire.” His voice cracked as he continued, “They gave the address … on Main Street. Dad, it’s the bakery.”

After a hushed conference with his wife and parents, Jayce closed himself into the small office in order to make some calls, but he reappeared within moments. “The line’s dead, and I can’t get a signal. It must be the storm.”

“What should we do?” Naomi asked quietly.

A gust of wind rattled the windows in their frames, and Mr. Pomeroy stared at the whirl of white beyond. “I know there’s nothing I can do, but I want to head into town. See for myself.”

“I’ll go with you,” Neil immediately offered.

Grandpa Pete folded his arms over his chest, his expression grim. “It’s a fool’s errand, but if you insist on going, take the tractor.”

“To town?” Momma gasped.

The old man replied, “Slow and steady … and a long sight safer than slip-sliding around out there in one of the cars.”

Mrs. Pomeroy glanced between her husband and her father-in-law, then nodded. “Bundle up.”

“I’ll fill a couple of thermoses,” Grandma Nell interjected. “And you should eat something first.”

“Don’t think I can manage that,” Jayce wryly admitted.

“I’ll change,” Neil announced, jogging past Prissie and Koji toward the stairs.

Momma pursed her lips. “Prissie, go wake Tad and tell him to come to the kitchen. I’ll grab Beau. I think we’ll wait to tell the little boys, though. Let them have their Christmas.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Prissie murmured, moving rather numbly into the family room. What would they do if Dad lost the bakery? Shaking her head, she hoped there was some mistake, but then Koji’s fingers grazed her hand. One look at his face, and she knew it was true. Things were happening … and they were all
bad.

In the family room, Tad sprawled on one of the couches, sound asleep while Zeke and Jude played together on the floor in front of the wood stove. Prissie smiled a little when she noticed that her big-big brother was putting her gift to use. Tad was forever bunching up his jacket to prop his head during his impromptu naps. After lengthy consideration, she’d bought him a small travel-sized pillow and sewn a pillowcase out of flannel. Kneeling next to him, she gave his shoulder a small shake.

Tad woke, and his gray eyes went from sleepy to solemn in a twinkling. “Priss?”

“Dad needs to talk to you,” she replied, trying to act normally. “In the kitchen.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, still scrutinizing her face. “Is it bad?” he murmured. Her lip trembled, and he nodded once, rolling to his feet and striding purposefully to the kitchen.

Prissie dropped limply onto the couch, and Koji joined her. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

The young angel pondered the matter, then admitted, “More than I can know, let alone understand.”

By unspoken agreement, Grandpa and Tad took charge of Zeke and Jude, coaxing the boys back to the family room in order to pop corn and roast apples over the embers in the wood stove. The bedtime snack would signal the end of a long day of fun for them, but the atmosphere was noticeably subdued. At Momma’s request, Beau moved Neil’s scanner to the kitchen, and she and Grandma Nell took over one end of the long table with a jigsaw puzzle and a fresh pot of coffee.

While Beau fiddled with the scanner settings, Prissie drifted to the table, needing something to take her mind off the waiting. Her angelic friends had been gone since sunrise, and Dad and Neil had been gone for nearly two hours. Momma would bow her head or murmur something under her breath, but praying didn’t seem to be hurrying things along. “How much longer?” Prissie sighed.

“If they’re smart, they’ll stay in town until morning,” Grandma Nell offered. “Mr. Mercer would put them up.”

Prissie straightened and looked at Koji, who stood at the kitchen window, transfixed by sights she couldn’t see. She saw the young Observer grab hold of the window sill with a white-knuckled grip. It was the only warning she had, for in the next instant, lightning flashed dazzlingly, immediately followed by the crash and boom of thunder directly overhead. The whole house rattled, and the power went out, leaving the Pomeroys in stunned silence.

Grandma Nell patted her heart and briskly said, “I’ll get more candles.”

Screeching tones and static caused Prissie to jump and
look at Beau accusingly. Her brother shrugged at the scanner. “It has batteries.”

Jude trotted into the kitchen, making straight for his mother’s arms. “Do you think Maddie’s okay?” he asked worriedly.

Grandpa, who’d followed close on the boy’s heels, answered, “The coop has a good foundation, so even if she’s fussed, she’s safe. Kinda like us.”

As Tad and Zeke sidled into the room, Prissie scooted over to join Koji at the window. Another blaze of lightning forced her to squint, but once it gave way to a deep roll of thunder, her eyes widened in disbelief. “How is that possible?” she whispered.

“Nothing is impossible,” answered Koji.

“Well, I never!” muttered Grandpa Pete, who promptly headed for the back door to get a better look.

The Pomeroys crowded onto the back porch to stare up at the whirl of clouds surrounding their farm. They were in the eye of the storm, and the sky above had opened up, revealing stars overhead. Prissie had no idea what her family was seeing, but on every side, colors flashed and darted, driving back the shadows. Angels were doing battle, keeping the enemy at bay. “We’re safe!” she gasped.

Another rumble began to build in the distance, and Tad grimly said, “I don’t think that’s thunder.”

“Is there gonna be a tornado?” demanded Zeke, staring around with an awed expression.

Vibrations shook the porch, and Grandma Nell exclaimed, “An earthquake?”

Just then, a bolt zoomed across the sky, colliding with the barn, and its lightning rods danced with electricity.
“Basement! Now!” Momma called, her voice ringing with authority.

They hadn’t needed to take shelter since early summer, when tornado warnings had sent them down below. The storm cellar was always stocked for emergencies, though the space wasn’t due for an airing out until spring. Tad led the way, calmly grabbing hold of Zeke’s arm before the youngster could run off. “You heard Momma,” he scolded.

“But my stuff!” the eight-year-old protested.

“It’ll keep,” Tad said with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Jude. You bring Momma.”

“‘Kay!” agreed the youngest Pomeroy, who was holding tight to Naomi’s hand.

Grandpa Pete helped Grandma Nell snuff the scattered candles, then escorted her downstairs as well, but Prissie lingered by the door with Koji. Blinding flashes danced along the edges of the whirlwind, as if they were being held back from striking the farm buildings. Each strobe cast their orchard into stark relief, black trees against white snow; however, they brought something else to Prissie’s attention.

Something was moving in the orchard, and it was
big.
A spate of sleet cut through the air, stinging her cheeks, but she lingered, staring hard as she waited for the next flash. When it came, she almost couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing.

“Coming, Priss?” called Beau.

“J-just a minute,” she answered, giving her brother a pleading look.

“You shouldn’t be in the open,” he warned, hesitating at the top of the basement stairs.

Lightning blazed again, and Prissie’s gaze swung back to
the orchard. The winds dropped, and in the strange stillness, she could hear noises—creaking, groaning, cracking. “Oh, no!” she moaned. “The trees!”

“It cannot be helped,” Koji remarked, his gaze fixed on a struggle of epic proportions.

Not one colossus, but two grappled in the midst of the orchard. The giants stood taller than the barn and its silos, and as they pushed and pulled against each other, apple trees snapped like twigs beneath their feet. Even though the scale boggled her mind, Prissie recognized the sweep of silver hair that swayed behind the brighter of the two figures. “That’s Abner,” she gasped.

“Indeed.”

While her Caretaker friend’s raiment shone as brightly as ever, his opponent seemed to be draped in rags; they hung from the gaunt frame of a demon with wild eyes that held nothing but hate. Abner’s hand was firmly planted over the enemy’s mouth, preventing him from uttering a sound. “Is he the one responsible for the storm?” she asked. “Does that mean Abner is stopping him?”

Koji solemnly said, “He will not let the enemy speak, for his words are like poison.”

From behind them, Beau asked, “What are you guys looking at?”

“What can you see?” she asked nervously.