To Light and Guard (10 page)

CHAPTER 22

              In bed later that evening, I was having a dream when I woke up to the sound of Buffy barking.

             
“Shhhhh.”  I opened my eyes and noticed that it was still dark.  With eyes still half shut, I reached over on my nightstand and turned the lamp on.  I peeked at the alarm clock.  It was three twenty in the morning, for crying out loud. “It’s still too early, Buffy.” I looked at Buffy, who was up standing next to the door and barking at the ceiling. 
Crazy dog.

             
“You are failing me as an alarm clock, my friend.”  Buffy was still barking and was now jumping up and down.  Dogs should not be barking at three twenty a.m.

             
Suddenly I felt my entire bed shake, and the house creaked a bit. I rolled over, drop my head on the pillow, and sighed. Within three seconds flat, I saw Luke go through the wall and into my room.  He landed on his knees in front of my bed.  In one quick move, he hovered on top of me, not really touching me, but he was very close.  His hands were on my bed, his elbows locked, and his face was right on top of mine.  I stared at him in shock as the ground kept on shaking.  Buffy kept on barking.

             
“Earthquake,” he explained.

             
“Yes, I know,” I whispered.  Although, the Harper family could not hear him, they didn’t have a problem hearing me. “I’m familiar with earthquakes.  They don’t scare me,” I said.

             
“They scare me.”

             
Okay.  That was a bigger shock than the earthquake.
I didn’t know that he was afraid of anything. I always thought that he was fearless – him being immortal and all.

             
Luke must have seen the confusion cross my face, and he smiled.

“Let me clarify that.  I
’m scared of the earthquake… for you.  I don’t want you to get hurt.”  Even as he said it, I heard a couple of books topple from my desk on the corner. 

             
Oh, now that made more sense.
  He thought I needed protecting from the big, bad natural disaster.

             
Luke bent his elbows a bit, still careful not to touch me.  He lowered himself slightly and took a long, deep breath, smelling my hair.  “You always smell like strawberries,” he said.

             
“It’s my shampoo.” I replied, staring at his lips.  I couldn’t help thinking – hoping - that he would kiss me again.  It’s been so long, and he was so close.

“You are so pretty,” he said as his purple gaze dropped to my lips.  I smiled.  I couldn’t help but want human things
… like another kiss.  Without thinking, I traced the back of my hand against his cheek gently.  Luke closed his eyes and held his breath. 
Oh, he really likes this.             

             
Suddenly, the ground stopped moving, the house stopped creaking, and Buffy finally settled down into her doggie bed.

I heard
a bedroom door open down the hallway, and Luke pushed himself up and away from me - fast.  His wings flared a little as he jumped.  He landed on the carpet softly and without a sound. I sat up on my bed, resting my body against the headboard.

             
“You two okay?” I heard Dad yell from the hallway.

“Yes, Dad,” I yelled back at the same time I heard Emma say the same thing.
  Luke and I were still looking at each other, but he was already backing away. 

“Wait,” I whispered
.

             
My walkie-talkie beeped, and I groaned. I picked it up from my nightstand and pressed a button.  Emma’s voice poured in.

             
“What was all that commotion in your room?” she asked.

             
“Just some books from my desk,” I said.  “Nothing major.”  I had to talk to Emma, or it would be an open invitation for her to burst into my room. She was really nosy like that, and she had no boundaries. She used to walk in the bathroom all of the time while I was still in it.  Nowadays, I have to lock the door just to keep her out.

              “That was at least a four,” Emma said with a yawn. 

“Definitely a
four point five,” I said. (As a Californian, we develop an internal Richter scale based on experience. I’ve honed mine through the years.) 

My angel turned
slowly towards the window and started walking. I yawned loudly into the walkie-talkie, trying to get rid of Emma quickly.

“Emma, I’ll talk to you later, o
kay?  Go back to sleep, okay? There is
absolutely
no fire,” I said. 

At my words, Luke
froze.  He turned around, and I saw the confused look on his face.  My lamp was still on, and I could see his expression clearly.  For the first time since I met him, he looked vulnerable.

“
And there’s no smoke,” Emma said, her voice drifting through the walkie-talkie.  “Over and out.” 

Without breaking eye contact
with Luke, I placed the walkie-talkie back on the night stand.  Luke opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.  He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head.  Then, in one quick movement, he turned around and hurled himself towards the wall, disappearing through it.      

My shoulders slumped.  I looked at Buffy,
but she was already asleep in her doggie bed.  There was nothing else for me to do.  I turned the lamp off and dropped my head on the pillow.  I pulled the sheet up to my chin. My head was full of thoughts of Luke.  I closed my eyes. 

Oddly, I fell asleep right
away, and I started to dream.  No, not to dream this time.  I started to remember, but the memory wasn’t really about Luke.  It was about me.   Maybe the earthquake somehow shook my subconscious and opened up a door to my past… and my past, it was kind of creepy… with a lot of fire and smoke. 

I
t goes something like this…

CHAPTER 23

England in the year 1080

              It was night, and it was cold in the shed that the villagers had locked us in.  It was pitch black inside because no one bothered to give us a candle.    

I knew this
shed well.  My father is the carpenter in this village, and I helped him find the wood to build this shed.  It was built three winters ago, and it was used as storage for the town’s livestock.  It still smelled like animals and dirt, pigs and mud.  On this day, this shed was our prison.

Was I a witch?
  The villagers certainly think that I am, but my angel would say no. So, my answer is no. I am not a witch.

My sister was with me
, and we were both locked away in this shed.  Elizabeth - my poor sister.  She was only fourteen and already destined to suffer for this as well.  We were huddled in the corner farthest away from the door, and we were shivering. My arms were wrapped around her for warmth and comfort.  At a time like this, we can only get it from each other. Nobody cared about us now, at least, not here.  

“I told you not to tell anyone,” I whispered
, hugging her closer to me.  Elizabeth remained silent, but she knew I was right. Until today, we never had anything to fear.  Our village was small with only fourteen families.  They were God-fearing people, who worked hard and were pleasant most of the time, but not today, and especially, not to us.

We heard muffled voices outside as important decisions were made.  It was usel
ess, really, since everyone already knew what the decision was going to be.   There was only one penalty for being a witch:  Death.

             
“We are not witches, Gwen,” Elizabeth said.  Her voice was strong, almost angry.  Here I was, cowering in the dirt in fear, while my younger sister remained so brave.  She was always the courageous one.  I always admired her for that. 

             
“Yes, I know, but no one understands why we can see angels. You should have known better than to tell Edith.”  

“I did not know that she was going to turn into a traitor and tell everyone our secret,”
Elizabeth said.  “She was our sister, after all.”

Edith
was our oldest sister, and Elizabeth was the youngest.  I understood Elizabeth.  Even I couldn’t believe that Edith would do this to us, knowing what the villagers would do to us. 

“
Edith was going outside every night when she thought everyone was asleep,” Elizabeth explained.  “I thought she could see angels and was going outside to meet with them.” I understood what she was trying to tell me.  Meeting the angels at night was something Elizabeth and I did often.  It was dangerous, but we never got caught until today.

“Edith
was meeting a man,” I explained, finally telling her what I have known for some time.  I knew Edith’s secret.  We all shared a room, and Edith was not that quiet, and I followed her once.

“Why did you not tell me?”
Elizabeth asked.

“Because secrets are meant to be kept.  I
t was Edith’s secret, not mine.” 

“Just like I should have kept
our
secret?” she asked in a small voice.  She never apologized, but it was there in the sound of her voice – her remorse.

“Yes.”
  Because no one would ever understand how Elizabeth and I could see angels.  It was useless explaining, and this secret may cost us our lives.

“
Don’t worry.  Our angels will come for us,” I said. “Everything will be alright.  They will take us away from here.”

I prayed that
what I just said was true - that somehow, our angels will know that we needed them.  I hope that they would come for us, but I also knew that our angels only came out at night.  There were more people like us, people who could see angels, and darkness was an angel’s best defense from human eyes.  As Luke explained it to me, angels cause chaos amongst us humans when they are seen by many.  They choose who can see them, and for some miraculous reason, they chose me and Elizabeth.
We were not witches.  We were blessed.

I
started crying, and my sobs echoed through the shed.  I hugged Elizabeth tight.  Our angels might not get to us in time.  If they come in their usual hour after the sun sets, it will be too late because Elizabeth and I would be ashes by then. 

‘Oh, Luke,’
I thought sadly.  ‘I’m scared. Please get here in time.’

             
              ***

It was almost
daybreak, and the sky was turning a lighter shade of gray.  Elizabeth and I were tied together, our backs pressed against a wooden post.  We were in the center of our small town, surrounded by scraps of wood and other debris that were meant to be burned along with us. There were logs, a few pieces of wood broken off from a chair, an old chopped up door.  To the right of me, by my feet, I saw Elizabeth’s doll, which made me weep harder.  Elizabeth was too old for dolls, but this doll was one of the few possessions she treasured.  I think Joshua made it for her when she was younger, and it was being thrown away like rubbish to burn along with us.

We were not the first ones to be burned as witches i
n this town.  I could sense the death of the girls who died before us, tied to a pole at this very location.  I could feel their aura. 

The villagers
surrounded us, less than a hundred people, and they were all strangers today.  Some looked at us with fear.  Others looked at us with a sense of righteousness that was so out of place because of what they were about to do to us. Murderers – that’s what they all are.

Standing
somewhere in the back was our family.  They were the ones who loved us the most, and yet, they were the ones who turned us in.  My parents were huddled together, hugging Edith tightly. In their eyes, Edith was their
good
daughter, and after today, she will be their
only
daughter.  I wish I could hug my mother one last time and try to explain.  Elizabeth and I never meant for any of this to happen.  We were the ones blessed by these angels.  We were not evil, and certainly, we were not witches.   

My uncle
had his hand on my father’s shoulder as if reminding him that he was not to interfere.  My cousins looked on with dread, but truly, I couldn’t blame any of them.   They just didn’t understand.  Even I didn’t understand, and it was too late.  Elizabeth and I both admitted to our crime – that we can see angels.  We also said that we were not witches, but that did not matter to any of them.

Looking at
my parents, I saw their pain, but they were also looking at me as if I was the one who betrayed them.  Truly, they did not have the right to feel that way because Elizabeth and I were the ones who were betrayed this day.   At least Elizabeth was behind me and facing the other way.  She did not see the look on our family’s faces. She could be spared that, at least, and she will die thinking that our family still cared for us.

Several hours ago, I was
still hoping that our angels would come and save us in time.  Now, tied to a post and waiting to be burned, my hope was fleeting very quickly.

The crowd was silent, and a
single man approached us.  He was holding a torch.  It was Cromwell, the self-appointed leader of our small town.  He was the preacher who preached his own gospel. I wondered why this town ever listened to him.  Who was he, and what was his power?  I looked at him; I saw his graying beard and the determination in his eyes.  One thing was for certain.  He really was going to set fire to us.  Sadness filled my heart. Elizabeth and I were not ready to die.

It was then that
Cromwell’s son, a twelve year-old boy named Bentley, came forward, holding a jar.  He didn’t look at me as he splashed kerosene onto the pile of wood that surrounded me and Emma. I almost sobbed.  Bentley and I were friends.  We always fished down the river, and sometimes, he helped me with my chores. 

“I’m not a witch Bentley,” I whispered.  He was close enough that he could hear me.  I don’t know why I bothered explaining.  He couldn’t help me even if he wanted to.

“I know, Gwen.  I know,” he whispered back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Gwen.” He sprinkled more kerosene onto the wood.  Cromwell walked towards Bentley and placed one hand on his shoulder roughly. He was still holding his torch.

“
Elizabeth and Gwendolyn, you have both been found to be witches, possessed by demons.  May God have mercy on your soul,” Cromwell said.  His voice was loud, drowning the other voices in the crowd.  No one spoke up to defend us. 

From somewhere
deep inside of me, I found the courage to speak clearly in a voice that hid the fear that threatened to consume me.

“
No,” I said as I stared at Cromwell, “May God have
no
mercy on
your
soul.”
Then, I looked into the eyes of the people who were determined to kill us. “On all of you.” I could not see Elizabeth’s face, but I felt her hands grip mine under the rope that tied us together.  She approved. It was something she would have said, and I said it for the both of us.

As my eyes stared at
the unfriendly faces surrounding us, some of them flinched.  Some refused to look at me at all.  They knew that what they were doing was wrong, but they also refused to aid us.   I looked at the faces of my family, my sister, Edith, my cousins, friends, who only yesterday, spoke only kind words.  Today, they thought that we were witches, and all we needed to do was die.  We were alone, and we
will
die.

“Witch,” I heard someone
say.  I didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but it did not matter.   

Cromwell
came closer, and he raised his torch up in the air.  The crowd was silent.  Then, he threw the torch towards me.  It flew in the air and landed in front of me.  The wood caught on fire, and it started to burn.  

I
watched in fright as the wood fed the flames quickly, black smoke rising. The villagers were not the enemy now.  There was also fire and smoke.  It threatened to consume us, and eventually, it will kill us. 

I felt the heat of the flames, but the smoke was the more determined killer.  It swirled all around us, and I couldn’t breath
e.  I started coughing uncontrollably, and my eyes stung.  I felt Elizabeth’s hands.  She gripped my hands tighter as she struggled against the rope that bound us together.  Then, I heard her coughing.  Elizabeth had always been careless, but she was a good person.  She didn’t deserve this. 
We
did not deserve this.

Through the
fire and smoke, my eyes scanned the crowd, and I saw a lone figure; she was partially hidden behind the small shed that they had locked us in earlier.  I squinted, and through the thick smoke, I saw a girl dressed in a white dress with long blonde hair; her hair was so light that I can almost see a halo surrounding her. 
Adra… 
She met my gaze, and then, she quickly moved behind the shed until I could no longer see her.  I knew she was not hiding from the crowd.  She was hiding from us because she knew that Elizabeth and I could see her. She was an angel, and until today, I thought we were friends.  Like the rest of them, however, she had also turned her back on us. 

“
Adra,” I whispered, “please help us.”

Even though I whispered,
I knew she could hear me. Angels have good hearing, and Adra was strong.  She was also very fast.  She could save us in a heartbeat, but she remained hidden.
Why?

“Adra,” I called out again.  This time, I said it louder
.  I waited, but again, she ignored me.  I was running out of time.

My eyes filled with tears
, from the smoke and from despair, but my tears did not mean anything to anyone - not even to an angel. The smoke completely surrounded me now.  It swirled like a dark fist that closed around my throat, choking me, killing me.  I started coughing uncontrollably.  My lungs felt as if it, too, was burning.   

The bottom of my dress caught on fire
. I felt the heat on my skin. It was everywhere: on my legs, my arms, my face... 

I
looked towards the shed, and my eyes hurt from the smoke.  Adra was peeking out from behind the shed.  With anguish all over her pretty face, she chose not to help us.

“Help,” I screamed
.

I gasped
, and I took a breath of air, but only smoke rushed in.  Behind me, I heard Elizabeth coughing more rapidly.  For a while, all I heard were Elizabeth’s coughs.  I didn’t hear mine, and the sounds Elizabeth made drowned the crackling of the fire, the burning, the crowd’s murmurs. 

“Elizabeth,” I called out, but it came out as a hoarse dry whisper. “I love you.”  I hope she heard me.   If I died today, I didn’t want to leave this earth with hate in my heart. Then, I thought about the angel who owned my heart, Luke, and I prayed that he would endure losing me this way.   He always said that wherever I was, he would find me.  He promised that he would always find me. 
Always…
I will hold him to that promise and hope that someday we can be together again.