Inside the afflicted aircraft, the wave of panic which had spread throughout the cabin had dispersed somewhat, and passengers seemed to settle considerably as the plane’s heaving and lurching began to subside. Flight attendants tentatively loosened their seat belts, and two of the bravest unclipped their buckles and gingerly made their way from the front to the back of the cabin, regaining their professionalism and checking in on passengers to ensure that everyone was alright. Both flight attendants were seasoned flyers with hundreds of flights under their belts, but Phoebe could see the trepidation that they were working so hard to hide written all over their ashen faces – yes, she could tell that this turbulence was like nothing either of these crew members had ever experienced before.
“Are you okay Honey?” Eva’s voice was barely audible across the aisle as the cabin had filled with a cacophony of voices all struggling for supremacy and demanding that their questions be answered – “What was that?” “What happened?” “Are we going down?” “Is it over?” “Don’t stand up, it’s not over!” “I think I’m gonna throw up!” Question after jumbled question assaulted Phoebe’s ears, and rather than shout over the din she smiled weakly at her mother and confirmed that she was alright.
“Look Phoebe!” Demetrius shouted suddenly, right in Phoebe’s ear. She jammed her finger in her ear and started to protest at his loud proximity, but was instantly silenced as her gaze shifted to where Demetrius was pointing. There, right outside the aeroplane, she could see Dilis and Solas bearing Lasair up between them, his tunic stained crimson red beneath his bronze breastplate and his head drooped, face pallid, eyes closed.
Despite everything she had witnessed during the last few days, the sight took Phoebe’s breath away and she gasped in spite of herself. “Lasair!” she gasped. “Whatever happened out there must have been hideous!”
“Look!” Demetrius pointed beyond the angelic trio, and Phoebe could see a small black gathering of demons, apparently in retreat. From this distance, they looked like an angry little storm cloud, billowing and undulating – had she not known what they were, she would have thought them almost graceful.
“That must be the tail end of those things,” said Phoebe, her eyes still wide with wonder. “I wonder where Cosa…” Her words trailed off as her sentence was answered and Cosain, Trean, Neam and Croga came into view through the plane’s small oval window. “Cosain!” she shouted, banging on the window with her clenched fists, and promptly received an elbow in the ribs from Demetrius. “Ow!” Phoebe protested. “What was that for?”
“Phoebe, you’ve got to keep your voice down! You and I have a vague idea what’s going on out there, but you must remember that no-one else does. If you start yelling random names out the window, people are gonna wonder what you’re up to!”
“Oh… yeah, I got a bit carried away I guess,” Phoebe shrugged, and returned her attention to Cosain. He was standing astride the aeroplanes extensive wing with Croga at his side. Phoebe glanced across the aisle and out through her parents’ window, and found Trean and Neam in similar formation on the other wing. She could see that the warriors were alert, on their guard, their eyes scanning the horizon. As she looked back through her own window, Phoebe’s eyes met Cosain’s as he turned to look at her. His golden eyes seemed to carry many cares in their depths, and she imagined that he must have much on his mind.
“Phoebe.”
“What is it Dem?” Phoebe asked, turning her head towards her friend but never diverting her eyes from Cosain.
“Huh?” Demetrius barely acknowledged her question.
“Phoebe.”
“Dem – what do you want?” Phoebe turned around in her seat, agitated. She wanted to see what Cosain and the other angels were doing. Why did Demetrius insist on calling her?
“Phoebs, I didn’t speak. You’re hearing things, Bird.”
Given the gravity of the situation in which they had just found themselves, Phoebe didn’t think that Demetrius would joke around, and one look at his serious expression told her that she was right.
“Phoebe, I’m out here.”
“Seriously Dem – you didn’t hear that?” Phoebe enquired, but Demetrius merely shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“Didn’t hear a thing Phoe…” Demetrius stopped mid sentence. The realisation of who the voice belonged to dawned on him at exactly the same moment that Phoebe caught on too.
“Cosain?” she whispered. “But how?”
“Phoebe, you need to listen to me.” Phoebe’s eyes locked on Cosain’s again, and she realised that despite the fact that his lips were not moving at all, he was communicating with her and she could hear him as plainly as if he had been standing beside her. Cosain needed her attention.
“Go on,” she murmured in hushed tones, and was immediately aware that she felt very self conscious talking to the window. She blushed a little, but forced her awkwardness inward and concentrated intently on Cosain.
“Phoebe, Schnither and his dark forces are intent on bringing this plane down again. We were favoured to have foreknowledge about their attack, and were able to mount a surprise counter attack, taking them unaware and routing all but a handful of them. Schnither fled with his life, as did Craven, Malva, Krake and a few other lesser demons. Transa, Gutbu, Naarli, Jitha and Gmobb were destroyed, and Braygor and Graygor did not make an appearance on this occasion – which is very peculiar.”
Phoebe’s head was reeling with information and names. “Every time we encounter these fiends, I imagine that there could be no more,” she said with incredulity in her voice. “But then there are just more and more of them, from out of the blue. It’s crazy!”
“For every demon you encounter or we slay, there are hundreds more waiting in the wings to take their place. You should never underestimate our Enemy,” said Cosain, his face grave. The Captain of the Host continued, “Phoebe, what I am telling you is that Abaddon the Defiler despatched some of his finest to take this plane down today. Many of those key players escaped and several others didn’t even show up – all of which suggested to me that they were hedging their bets, as it were. They have no intention of giving up so easily – they will regroup, formulate a plot, and hit hard. I fear this will not take long, we should expect them at any time. You saw Dilis and Solas carry Lasair away. He was badly wounded by Schnither – I am hopeful that he will survive if his brothers can get him quickly to the Rapha Fountain in the Celestial City, but I fear that Dilis and Solas will be unable to get back to us as quickly as I would have hoped, and Lasair will be out of action for a few days until his wound heals and he regains his strength.”
Cosain paused, and Phoebe glanced back at Demetrius, who was looking questioningly from her to Cosain. He obviously could not hear the unspoken words of Cosain, but had gathered enough from Phoebe’s responses to figure out that things had not gone as well as they could have.
“You must be very brave, Little One,” Cosain continued. “We are so very close now – but this will be the time when the Enemy will hit the hardest. We must be ready. Our numbers are depleted, but our resolve is stronger than ever.”
Phoebe gulped, and wiped her sticky palms on her blue jeans. She quickly relayed what Cosain had just told her to Demetrius, who listened intently and gave away very little by way of a reaction. ‘Typical Dem,’ Phoebe thought. ‘As deep as the ocean, he just doesn’t do drama.’ She was thankful for Demetrius’s steady constancy; she had always been able to rely on him keeping a cool head even in the most turbulent of circumstances.
Inside the cabin of the plane, an air of normality had been resumed, and passengers were chatting and even laughing nervously about what had just happened. Several had returned their attentions to their books or music, while others still looked uneasy, sitting rigidly upright in their seats with their seatbelts securely fastened. No-one on board could have envisioned the full extent of what the aeroplane had just endured. Schnither and his minions may have been beaten back, but it was a weakened aircraft that was now winging its way to Ireland.
Phoebe considered Cosain’s words – ‘we should expect them at any time’ – and had to bite her lip to stop herself from weeping at the thought of what might lie ahead before she finally reached home.