The angel Gabriel looked down from a place of supreme light, warmth, and love, a place humans often called Heaven or Shamayim and other names that meant the same. With wings outstretched and twitching, he watched the darkness spread across the Earth, carried by a bird made from the flesh of evil. Affliction.
The light behind him turned in his direction, and Gabriel raised his wing to shield his eyes. All angels knew better than to look directly at God in His native form. He’d heard it said such a look was the cause of the fall. Lucifer had become so arrogant he raised his eyes to God’s. The intensity of the power drove him mad, locking him inside a state of narcissism that spread like a cancer. The Archangel Michael, at the Lord’s request, battled Lucifer, throwing him and his defenders from the edge of Heaven. Those who avoided the fall said he’d believed he was a god. Lucifer? A god? Perhaps of lies, of illusion, of misery. Who would follow such a god?
“Affliction terrorizes the human souls,” Gabriel said. “Please, Lord, they need your healing. You must cure them, or we risk losing them forever.”
“You would have me wave a hand and cure them all?”
“Oh yes,” Gabriel said. “The joy it will bring them to have their health again. We will surely hear choirs singing your praises.”
God laughed, a deep, heady sound that tickled Gabriel’s heart. “The world isn’t what it once was. If I cure them, they will likely thank penicillin, or in this case, Elysium. That’s the name of the drug Lucifer created to cure his own disease.”
“Elysium? Isn’t that a Greek term for a mythical part of the underworld?”
“The irony isn’t lost on me.” The light dimmed. “Lower your wing. I’ve made it safe for you.”
Gabriel did as he was told. God had transformed into a man with shaggy hair and sandals. He stuck his weathered hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “As I was saying, although your compassion is admirable, Gabriel, I’m afraid healing will be confused for an act of human doing or of Lucifer’s. To win souls, I must give the humans a gift that will allow them to see Lucifer’s temptation for what it is. The best cure for darkness is the light.”
Terribly confused, Gabriel wrinkled his brow, leaned over the viewing glass, and rested his chin in his hands. “But how will you help them without healing them. How do you combat Lucifer’s terrible trickery?”
The Lord sighed, his breath rippling like a warm breeze through Heaven. “Lucifer’s Elysium is a lie. His pestilence is a lie. His cure is not health but an illusion. I think our gift needs to nip at the root of his weakness.”
“How?” Gabriel asked.
God reached into the wall of Heaven and pulled. A ripping sound tore through the space and then the wet slurp of molding clay. God worked the silvery stuff between his fingers. “We shall fight Lucifer’s pet bird with our own animal companion, one I think the humans will prefer to Affliction. Hold out your arm, Gabriel.”
The angel straightened and offered his robe-clad arm as requested. A great shriek preceded a set of talons large enough to wrap entirely around his forearm. The bird was parrot red, shaped like an eagle, and had a purposeful black stare. The animal fluffed her wings and nuzzled Gabriel’s nose.
“Meet my new pet, Wisdom. Crafted from Heaven’s own walls, anyone who sees this bird will understand the truth about the source of the disease and Harrington Enterprises. Lucifer expects the humans to be passive, apathetic fools, but I have already given them intelligence to rival his and the fortitude to act on it. This bird will simply accelerate those human traits.”
Gabriel beamed. “Perfect, as always.”
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
“Would you like me to deliver her to the world for you?”
“Yes, please, Gabriel, and stay with her along the way, to defend her against any foul play. I release my gift into your hands.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Proudly, Gabriel spread his wings, and so did Wisdom, lifting from his arm with two mighty flaps. The angel ran for the edge of Heaven and tossed himself over, wings folding in, body dive-bombing to Earth like a bullet. Wisdom followed his lead. When they breached the atmosphere, Gabriel used his ability to blend into the light, shifting over and between skyscrapers and schools, houses and playgrounds at a speed hardly noticeable by humans but enough to do the trick. With Wisdom at his side, he began his journey to every city in every state and every country in the world.
He couldn’t reach everyone, of course. Some were inside and wouldn’t see Wisdom, but from the beginning of time, this was the way of good things. Those who did see must tell those who didn’t. They always had, and they always would. Because, Gabriel knew, the way of God was stamped upon human hearts.
He flew on, the outskirts of the tiny town of Paris coming into view, where an elderly man with gray hair and square glasses was stringing Christmas lights on the eaves of a cheery yellow Cape Cod. The human male had propped his ladder carelessly with one foot on solid ground, and the other on the loose pebbles of the driveway. Early for Christmas, Gabriel thought, as this part of the world was still firmly entrenched in autumn. He supposed the elderly man meant to avoid having to do the task in icy conditions.
Wisdom passed the man first, close by his head. Gabriel had a moment to observe the wonder and awe on the man’s face at seeing the great red bird before the shock straightened his spine with a snap. The man’s plaid shirt-covered arms shot out to grab the top of the ladder to steady himself while he searched the sky for the bird. The sharp movement caused the ladder to move away from the roof. Worse, the leg resting on the stones slipped. With a deep, “Whoa!” man and ladder toppled.
Gabriel did not hesitate or consider the consequences. He would not have the man’s injury or death on his hands. The angel swooped down and cushioned the old man’s fall, careful not to be seen. The act was lightning fast and completely effective.
Alongside Wisdom, Gabriel continued on, leaving the man lying under the oak tree in his front yard, staring up into the heavens.
“Jacob, Jacob! Come quick!” Aunt Carolyn cried.
Inside his bedroom, Jacob dropped the tie he was unsuccessfully trying to knot around his neck and jogged down the hall to the stairwell. Aunt Carolyn’s ample body plugged the open front door.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, Jacob, come quick,” she whined, flailing her stubby arms at her sides. “John fell off the ladder!” She took a step onto the porch and continued down the three concrete stairs to the lawn. “Check if he’s breathing!”
Uncle John was flat on his back, the fallen ladder at on odd angle across the lawn. Jacob rushed past Aunt Carolyn’s ambling figure, prepared to perform CPR, but paused when he noticed his uncle was grinning, staring at the sky like he’d simply lain down to watch the clouds. “Uncle John?”
“Is he dead?” Carolyn yelled.
Uncle John’s hand shot up toward Jacob who obliged by helping the man up. “I’m not dead, woman. I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”
Aunt Carolyn’s round face puckered. “What are you talking about? I saw you fall off the ladder.”
John placed a hand over his heart. “A miracle, Carolyn. Something caught me.”
“Caught you?”
“I know it sounds crazy but I felt arms cushion my fall, like my own personal guardian angel was looking out for me.”
Carolyn ran a chubby hand over the back of John’s head. “Did you bump your noggin, John? You are acting strangely.”
With his hands in his pockets, Jacob mulled over the idea of a guardian angel. The way the ladder was strewn across the lawn and his uncle had nary a scrape seemed to indicate divine intervention. Jacob had experience with the divine as a Soulkeeper. He’d learned never to underestimate even the smallest of events.
“What did the angel look like?” Jacob asked.
Uncle John pushed Carolyn’s hands away and turned toward him. “A gigantic red bird.”
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up. “The angel looked like a red bird?”
The older man nodded slowly.
Aunt Carolyn made a small huffing noise, mouth open and hands on hips. “Guardian angel or not, I think you should have an x-ray, John Laudner. Who knows what kind of damage might have been done.”
“I’m fine, Carolyn. Look, don’t wrinkle your pretty dress by putting your hands on your hips like that. I’ll get changed and we’ll go pay our respects at Willow’s Bridge as planned.”
Willow’s Bridge was Paris’s only funeral home and the place where Luke Michaels had been cremated. The family had put off the visitation a couple of weeks while they finished the soybean harvest. Jacob was ready to help Dane move on from the loss, but he suspected Aunt Carolyn’s attendance had more to do with her interest in the gossip the wake would provide. Everyone in town wanted to know if Mrs. Michaels planned to sell the family farm now that its patriarch was deceased.
“Promise me you won’t say anything about the bird, John. Clare Barger will never let me live it down.”
John waved her away, scowling, and strode toward the house. Jacob followed, picking up his tie from his chest and starting the knot again. As he entered the house, Katrina descended the stairs, adjusting her long-sleeved blue dress. The glimpse of her shoulder blade jarred Jacob into dropping his tie again. She was thin, no—skeletal. Her skin stretched across the sharp contour of bone without the pad of muscle or fat. Before the bird flu, that blue dress seemed clingy. Now the fabric hung on her bones like a coat hanger. Her once shiny brown hair was dull and lifeless, as were her eyes.
“Mom, have you seen my medicine?” Katrina asked.
Carolyn marched toward her. “Haven’t you finished your course, yet? You’ve been taking it for weeks.”
“The bottle says to keep taking it until I don’t have symptoms when I stop. Every time I stop, I throw up.”
Jacob followed the two into the house, noticing how large and hollow Katrina’s eyes had become. “Do you need something to eat?”
“No, Jacob, I just need my medicine. Mom!”
The sound of rustling pills came from the kitchen, Carolyn digging through the mass of vitamins and painkillers she kept in a basket on top of the refrigerator. “Ah, here they are. You’re almost out.”
Katrina met her at the kitchen table, taking the fluorescent blue pill with a shaking hand. Jacob winced. She didn’t even use water to wash it down.
“Try to get better, honey. These things are costing us an arm and a leg. Elysium is like gold. Do you know people are getting held up in the city, not for their wallets, but for their Elysium?”
Jacob moved for the stairs, starting again on his tie.
“I guess when you need a pill to feel normal, you’ll do anything for it. Thank God Harrington Enterprises found the cure or I’d still be in bed,” Katrina said.
Stopping halfway to the second floor, Jacob turned around and returned to Katrina’s side. “Harrington Enterprises? Did you say Harrington Enterprises?”
“Yeah, they make Elysium,” she said, holding up the bottle. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”
Jacob shook his head. “No, nothing. Just curious.” Harrington had a pharmaceuticals division; it didn’t necessarily mean the Watchers were tainting the drugs like they had the bottled water. Then again, with what he’d learned from Malini, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Jacob sent a hasty text to Malini, then jogged up the stairs and finished getting ready.