The next few hours seemed to last for an eternity as Phoebe and Demetrius finalised their packing and tried to concoct other ways to fill the time until they would meet with the angels again. They stayed at Demetrius’s house, mainly because Phoebe didn’t relish the thought of going home to an empty house, but also because Demetrius wanted to spend any time he had with his Uncle Esau, Aunt Martha and his young cousins, Bessie, Jacob and Grace.
Martha had insisted on making the teenagers a final ‘farewell lunch’, and although neither Phoebe nor Demetrius felt like eating, they didn’t want to raise any suspicions or appear ungrateful, and accepted Martha’s offer gratefully. As the family sat down to eat, Demetrius was struck anew with just how well he had been looked after by the Otonnos, and knew that he owed them all a debt of gratitude. He loved the family with a fierce loyalty, yet he knew without doubt that his future – whatever that held – was in Ireland with the Wrens.
“Dem?” Seven year old Bessie was peering across the table at Demetrius, her enormous brown eyes regarding him inquisitively.
“Yes Bessie?”
“Dem, why do you have to go to Ireland? Jacob and Grace and I are gonna miss you. Can’t you stay here? You can share our toys, I promise.”
The childish innocence of Bessie’s questions tugged at Demetrius’s heartstrings and his answers caught in his throat before he could verbalise them. Phoebe stopped eating her lunch and looked up at him; she could see that Demetrius was struggling hard with his emotions, and she could easily have cried for him. After a long moment, Demetrius swallowed hard and answered his little cousin.
“Bessie,” he said gently, “I love living here with you and Jakey and Gracie. You guys have been so very kind to me, and always shared all your stuff with me. But now…” Demetrius choked on his words as his brown eyes blurred with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. “Well, now I have to go with Phoebe. I think that we have work to do in Ireland. I think that this is where Abba wants me to go, and we need to do what Abba wants us to do, right?”
“Right,” declared Bessie, her naive smile lighting up her pretty face. “Mamma says Abba always knows what’s best for us, and if we trust Him, then He won’t let us down.” She smiled at Demetrius, obviously satisfied by his answer, and in her childish words Demetrius found solace and an assurance that he was doing the right thing. ‘Funny how Abba makes Himself heard,’ he mused, and smiled at the three little children across the table who had returned undeterred to their childish chatter. ‘Everything is so simple when you’re young,’ Demetrius thought, and it reminded him that that was why keeping a childlike faith had always been important to him.
“You are doing the right thing, Dem,” Martha smiled kindly at her nephew. She could scarcely believe that the tall, strong young man sitting across the table from her was the same skinny kid she had taken in ten years ago. Her sister would be proud of Demetrius, Martha had no doubt about that. “You’ve got to go where your future is, and if Abba wants you in Ireland, then He must have a reason.”
“Thanks Aunt Martha, I appreciate your support so much. I owe you and Esau my life.”
“We are very proud of you, Dem,” said Esau. “As your parents would be. We wish you nothing but the best for you. You know that, right?”
“I do,” answered Dem, his voice shaking with emotion. Phoebe wanted to grab him and hug him and tell him everything would be alright, but she restrained herself and opted for a dignified silence over an outpouring of emotion.
“Now,” said Martha. “Let’s have dessert, then you and Phoebe can get back to packing.”
“Dessert!” squealed four year old Jacob, who was not used to such pleasant surprises. This was not an everyday occurrence for the Otonno children, and they tucked hungrily into the milk tart that their mother set in front of them, making Phoebe giggle at the sight.
After lunch was finished, Phoebe helped Martha tidy the table and wash up, then she found Demetrius again, and the teenagers left the house.
“We’ll be back soon, Uncle Esau,” called Demetrius as the screen door clicked shut behind them.
Phoebe and Demetrius walked a short distance to a small copse of Baobab trees, until they were just out of sight of the house, and sat down together on the dusty ground. Phoebe was glad of the shade afforded by the trees as the midday sun was intense. She recalled Cosain’s words from earlier that day – ‘Schnither will have sentries posted’ – and she wondered just how many pairs of squinty demonic eyes were watching her and Demetrius right now, and how long the ghouls had been spying on them. Phoebe dared not look around as she remembered Cosain’s warning – ‘it is imperative that we do not arouse suspicion amongst the powers of darkness’. Phoebe’s heart thudded in her chest, and she tried desperately not to think too much on what the next forty eight hours held, although that was almost impossible. She was acutely aware of a sensation of being watched, although she could not say for sure whether this had been caused by her own paranoia, and she wondered if Demetrius shared her agitation. She looked at Dem, who was leaning back against a tree, eyes closed, obviously just enjoying the moment and the warmth of the sun, and wished that she could be as laid back as he appeared to be.
“Calm down, Phoebe,” she chided herself. “Everything is as it should be, it’ll all be okay, just relax.”
Little did Phoebe realise that she had been right to be on her guard, and her paranoia was in fact merited. Above the teenagers in the Baobab trees, four orange eyes glinted through the branches. Unnoticed by Phoebe or Demetrius, malevolent twins Braygor and Graygor had followed the teenagers to this meeting point, and were hiding and awaiting the arrival of the Heavenly host. The diminutive little fiends could scarcely conceal their mirth, and they hissed and spluttered their laughter through clenched teeth, gnarly hands cupped over their mouth like naughty children.
“So close,” wheezed Braygor, “Brother, we are so close!” And he twisted his knotted fingers together like writhing, slithering eels.
“SHHH!” hissed Graygor, slapping his twin around the back of his head so hard that he almost knocked him out of the tree. “Do you want them to hear us? We must complete this mission without any hiccups! You know what Schnither said…”
The warning seemed to have the desired effect, and Braygor settled huffily back on to his branch without further ado.
“Those do-good angels will be here any minute now, and we cannot risk them seeing us. Once they and the humans bid their farewells, Phoebe Wren and her little clan will be all mine… uh, ours!” Graygor covered over his sleight of tongue without Braygor taking exception to his words, but in his black little heart he knew that he had no intention of sharing the glory of bringing about the Wrens’ demise with his extraneous buffoon of a brother.