Phoebe and Demetrius did not have to wait or wonder for much longer, as Cosain, Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam, Croga and Lasair materialised inaudibly beneath the trees.
“Good afternoon Phoebe, Demetrius,” smiled Cosain, as Demetrius scrambled to his feet, then gave Phoebe his hand and helped her up too.
“Hello, Cosain. Hello, uh… gentlemen?” Demetrius was obviously unsure of how to address a group of angels, having never had cause to do so before, and his faltering uncertainty caused him to chuckle and scratch his head nervously. Phoebe had assumed that Dem was taking everything in his stride, but this awkward exchange made her realise that he was probably every bit as bewildered as she was.
“Hey guys,” Phoebe interjected. “What news?”
“Phoebe, you have been on an incredible journey these last few weeks. I know that you have experienced things that…well, things that may have been difficult for you to comprehend. You have been very brave and obedient, and tomorrow you and your family and Demetrius will return home to Ireland, where I know the Atoner will have big plans for you. Your destiny as a Light Bringer is a lofty one but I have every confidence that you will be able to achieve it.”
In the boughs above, Braygor’s glee had once again bubbled to the surface, and he practically pirouetted along the branch. “Oh we have them, Graygor, we have them! Those idiot angels think their job is done! Ahh. How tragic to be so close and yet so far from completing their mission!” Braygor was frothing at the mouth, and Graygor rolled his eyes in disgust, thanking his lucky stars that he was not as ridiculously immature as his nonsensical twin.
On the ground below, Phoebe was aware of the commotion in the trees, and realised quickly that the hellish sentries were indeed on patrol. ‘Don’t look up, do not look up,’ she coaxed herself. Croga had obviously noticed too, as his hand clasped the hilt of his sword tighter – an almost imperceptible move, but one which Phoebe observed nonetheless. The realisation that the enemy was only a matter of feet above them made Phoebe shiver, but she settled herself in the knowledge that they would not attack now because they too had a plan to execute.
“So,” Cosain continued in a clear and firm voice. If he was aware of the presence of evil – and Phoebe was certain that he was – he never once raised his eyes towards the tree-tops. “The time has come for us to relinquish our duties and return to the Celestial City. The Atoner awaits our report and our homecoming.”
Cosain smiled kindly at Phoebe, and if he was apprehensive or uneasy, his countenance certainly did not give him away. If anything, Cosain’s eyes seemed to glow with a calm assurance and authority, and Phoebe found herself once again drawn back to… well, today, but first time round, when she came to amidst the carnage and havoc of the crash site and was aware that she was safe and protected. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, then swallowed hard before she spoke.
“Thank you, all of you. You are right, Cosain, it has been a very strange few weeks indeed, but with your help I have survived! I am eternally indebted to you all, and I will make sure that whatever plans the Atoner has for me, I will carry them out to the best of my ability.”
She paused, smiling at the seven angelic warriors who stood, dwarfing her with their imposing stature, and yet whose faces were the kindest and gentlest she had ever seen. Phoebe knew that the swordsmen before her were fearsome in battle, and she had witnessed their might with her own eyes, but she knew too their unwavering loyalty and compassion, and was truly grateful to the Heavenly brothers for their care for her and her family.
“Goodbye, Phoebe Wren. And may the Atoner bless you,” said Cosain softly, and he smiled as Phoebe burst forward and hugged him tightly. Phoebe embraced Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam, Croga and Lasair in turn, as Demetrius shook hands with each of the angelic warriors, and although she could not be sure, Phoebe thought that she could see tears in the clear blue eyes of Trean.
“I will miss you all,” said Phoebe, and she realised that, although this farewell was in fact only a decoy, there would probably come a day when she would have to bid her angelic guardians goodbye for real.
“Come brothers,” said Cosain. “The Atoner awaits our return.”
Then, with a dignified salute, the Heavenly host spread their mighty wings and took to the air en masse, and were out of sight in a millisecond leaving Phoebe and Demetrius feeling rather deflated under the Baobab trees.
“That’s it! It’s all over! What happens next is a foregone conclusion!” squealed Braygor as he watched the Heavenly Host disappear. Graygor, the more cautious of the two, waited several minutes just to be sure that Cosain and his cronies weren’t trying to dupe him before he too declared, “How easily they were despatched! Now those sickeningly wholesome teenagers and their clueless parents have been left to their own devices – without the cushioning of the Atoner’s hedge of winged heroes around them, they will be easy prey. He has slipped up this time!”
Braygor was so sure of hellish victory that he could wait no longer and shot out of the tree like an overgrown bat, leaving a trail of dark vapours in his wake, and Graygor chugging along behind him in a desperate effort to keep pace.
“Wait, brother! WAIT!” screeched Graygor, infuriated that his brother would leave without him and entirely outraged that he had been clever enough to take flight before him.
“Just move it, Graygor! We have much to tell Captain Schnither!” hissed back Braygor, his little leathery black wings flapping furiously as he raced to be the first to break the good news.