Her heart thudding in her chest and her ears, Phoebe moved tentatively towards the forest. She was nervous, yet somehow felt more safe and alive than she had done in a very long time. It was a bizarre sensation and one which she could not really explain, but she knew it to be real.
Standing beside the ever-expanding vortex of blindingly brilliant light, Cosain, Solas and Dilis stood shoulder to shoulder with Trean, Neam, Lasair and Croga.
“It is almost time, brothers,” said Cosain, his chiselled features earnest, his stance determined. “Phoebe Wren must decide now whether or not to venture with us through time and space. Her decision will change not only her own destiny, but will have an eternal effect on the island of Ireland. The Atoner’s plan is about to come to fruition, and we must be ready for the fight of our lives. The Enemy will not take this lying down.”
“We are ready, Captain,” said Solas, “We will defend her to the death, the Atoner’s plans are perfect and we will strive to help Phoebe achieve her destiny”.
“Look,” cried Dilis, his angelic countenance alive with radiant hope. “She is coming this way. I believe that she knows what she must do! Come, brothers, let us get ready to travel with her.”
The seven warrior angels, gargantuan wings fully extended, drew their swords as for battle. The enormous blades, three feet in length, glowed fiery red in anticipation of the inevitable mêlée ahead. The angelic breastplates were forged in bronze and purpose built to withstand demonic menaces. The fearsome angels stood, powerful and tall, clad in red tunics and black leather sandal boots laced up to just below their knees. These were not the serenely halo-clad, harp-playing angels from a scene on a Christmas card, but were the Mighty Ones of the Atoner, ready to do their Master’s bidding. The Heavenly brothers made for a formidable sight – had they been visible in the human realm.
Oblivious to the seven angelic beings awaiting her approach, Phoebe continued tentatively towards the forest and the source of the peculiar light. Her heart was racing now, but she felt undeniably and irresistibly drawn forward. She reached the edge of the woods and was about to pull out her cell ‘phone to ring Ella when suddenly she found herself being pulled with great force and at great speed towards what she now saw to be a swirling, undulating portal. Fear gripped Phoebe’s throat, but she did not even have time to cry out before she was sucked into the centre of the vortex of light and shot upwards at an incredible speed leaving the green meadow and the Quills’ house far below her. It occurred to her that this was how Dorothy Gale must have felt when the tornado caught her house in ‘The Wizard Of Oz’. Inside the vortex, however, far from experiencing panic or dread, Phoebe felt warm and light, and somehow, despite her fear, she knew that this was something she had to do. She could not explain any of it, yet she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.
As suddenly as it had snatched Phoebe up, the luminous portal snapped shut and vanished, leaving nothing in its wake but a few startled hares in the empty meadow. Unknown to Phoebe, seven angelic warriors had simultaneously stepped into the vortex, and were winging their way through time and space with her. Phoebe’s life was about to change – again – forever, and although she could not know it yet, she would soon be in the throes of the greatest battle she could ever have imagined.