The Broken Window Part 11

Prissie shook her head and turned to Koji, who'd been strapped into snowshoes by Beau. "If you walk normally, you'll trip yourself," her almost-twin explained. He demonstrated the proper stance. "Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, and you'll be okay."

The Observer stood and took a few cautious steps. "I understand. I appreciate your a.s.sistance."

"Yep," Beau acknowledged, tromping off after Grandpa Pete and their dad, who already had a head start toward the far hill.

Waving Koji over, Prissie pointed at a gentle slope about a quarter mile to the west of the newly-plowed road they'd followed back into the orchard. "We're going over there. It's the tree garden."

Pete Pomeroy had been growing the family's Christmas trees since the farm had been pa.s.sed to him by his father. Prissie's dad had been small, money was tight, and Grandpa Pete thought it foolish to pay for something you could grow yourself. He regularly added to the stand of mixed evergreens by transplanting stray seedlings onto the roughly triangular slope leading up to one of their property's tree-lined boundaries.

The air was crisp, and the sky was clear as they crunched over drifted snow. Everyone was laughing and talking at once, so Prissie figured it was safe to ask, "Are we okay?"

Koji replied, "This is much easier than ice skating."

"Not that," she said in exasperation. Nodding in the direction of the fairgrounds and the ridge beyond, she muttered, "You guys said that we're close to trouble here."

He gazed around with a neutral expression, then quietly stated, "Fear not."

Prissie didn't find his gentle evasion terribly comforting.

"How is a tree selected?" Koji inquired.

"Height, shape, the number of branches for hanging ornaments," she listed. "Anyone can suggest their favorite, but Momma has the final say on which tree comes back with us. Once she makes up her mind, she'll tie her scarf onto one of its branches, and that's that."

"I see."

Once they reached the pines, the tree-hunters scattered, and Prissie eagerly lost herself in the evergreen maze. The trees had been planted in a zigzag pattern, so she meandered among them, letting her mittened hand brush over compact needles. Grandpa kept the trees neatly sheared, so each one had excellent potential. Choosing was usually difficult.

Out of the corner of her eye, Prissie caught the flutter of fabric and turned to see who'd followed her, but no one was there. Frowning slightly, she glanced around at the tracks in the snow. At least two other people in snowshoes had come this way before her. She could hear Koji's voice just beyond the next row of trees, where he seemed to be talking with Zeke. The eight-year-old was only too pleased to show their newbie the ropes. With a smile and shake of her head, Prissie began her own search for the perfect tree.

The sharp scent of pine filled the air because Grandpa Pete had already begun nipping boughs to make wreaths for their front doors. Closing her eyes, Prissie took a deep breath, releasing it with a sigh; when she opened them, she once again caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. "Who ...?" she muttered to herself. Jedrick had a.s.sured her that the Hedge had secured their home, but did that mean just the house, all of the barns, or the entire orchard? Maybe it was time for her to find Koji.

Executing a neat turn in spite of her snowshoes, Prissie aimed in the general direction of Zeke's voice, but before she made much headway, a deep shout sent her heart into her throat. Green light burst into a set of widespread wings as Jedrick exploded into view, sword drawn as he dropped out of the sky. Automatically ducking, Prissie crept closer to a nearby spruce and peered past its branches. The Flight captain was engaging an opponent she could almost see. The occasional dark ripple that gave away its position never quite coalesced into a figure. Her desire to reconnect with Koji doubled, and she turned to call out to him, only to be confronted by an orange flare. "Tamaes too?" she whispered, truly frightened now.

Glancing around nervously, she couldn't decide which way to go. If she could see fighting on two sides, chances were unseen turmoil was on all sides. Edging as close to her sheltering pine as its p.r.i.c.kles allowed, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on Tamaes. Her Guardian fought with a grim resolve that was fearsome to see.

Just then, Grandpa Carl and Jude tromped past, laughing and talking about pinecones, completely oblivious to the battle raging around them. The disparity wrenched at her soul, and she almost wished she were blind to the truth.

A sweeping blow from Tamaes's gleaming sword appeared to be enough to dispatch or drive off his opponent, for he turned then to check on her. Prissie waved from her hiding place, and his expression softened into a smile just before his gaze sharpened, and he scanned the area alertly. "Koji!" he called, his voice carrying across the tree garden. Moments later, the young Observer scuffed through the pines on his snowshoes. "Stay with Prissie," Tamaes commanded.

"I will!"

With a curt nod, the Guardian took off in Jedrick's direction, and Prissie gratefully locked arms with Koji, whispering, "What's happening?"

"A few Fallen appeared shortly after we arrived," he explained. "Jedrick was nearby, so he is lending his strength to the Hedge."

"Nearby?" she furtively echoed. "Why would a Protector be hanging out in the back forty?"

Koji hesitated before explaining, "Jedrick's responsibilities keep him close. We should not linger."

"But we can't leave!" she exclaimed. "My family's here!"

"I only meant that we should rejoin them," he a.s.sured.

Knowing that her brothers would be running back and forth to Momma, it made the most sense to get to her. "Is that way good?" she asked, pointing to where she could hear the sound of her mother's voice.

"Yes."

They moved together, but unfortunately, snowshoes were not made for closeness. Koji's became tangled with hers, sending them both tumbling into the snow.

"Allow me," offered an all-too-familiar voice.

Prissie's head jerked up, and she stared in shock into Adin's handsome face. He stood tall and proud, dressed in a neatly tailored suit and draped in a luxurious black cloak. "Quickly," he urged, holding out his gloved hand with a serene smile.

She felt the color drain from her face, for this time, she clearly saw something that had been invisible every other time she'd spoken with him. Adin's dashing appearance was spoiled by the set of ruined wings rising above his shoulders. They twitched and rustled, betraying his impatience, and with every shift, they rattled together in an off-key cacophony. Dull, lifeless shards, like grimy gla.s.s and clouded mirrors, hung from a twisted framework that had probably once been gracefully draped in light. "Your wings," she gasped.

For an instant, his expression hardened, but Adin rallied. "Never mind that. Come with me. I know someplace safe."

Scooting backward in the snow, Prissie choked out a weak, "No!"

Koji stepped between her and the looming demon, arms outspread. He'd slipped from his snowshoes, so he sank to his knees in the drifted snow. But his back was straight, and his voice was steady. "Do not listen to him, Prissie."

Adin's wings creaked as he lifted them higher, and Prissie panicked. She remembered what Koji had told her. Observers were ill-equipped to defend themselves. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed her best friend around the shoulders and pulled him backward, dragging him out of reach of those wicked-looking appendages. When she fumbled to a stop, Koji turned in order to wrap his arms around her waist, and she clung to him desperately. He may have been the only thing keeping her upright.

Slowly, their enemy's face changed, twisting with a cruel smile. "Found me out, have you? Pity." His eyes darted skyward for an instant, then he touched his fingertips to his lips and blew her a kiss. "Until next time, Prissie Pomeroy!"

An instant later, he flickered out, vanishing completely as Tamaes's boots thudded to the ground right in front of them. The tree garden disappeared in a swirl of ticklish light as her Guardian's wings swathed them in sweet safety, and Prissie heaved a shuddering breath. "Just in time," she whispered, practically throttling Koji. "I was so afraid he'd hurt you!"

"I was frightened," he confessed in a soft voice.

"You were brave," Tamaes said as his wings parted so he could study his teammate and his charge. "Thank you for protecting each other until I could reach you."

Prissie wasn't sure if his hand trembled with fear or rage, but his touch was light as a feather when he briefly placed his hand atop her head, then Koji's.

"We are safe," the young Observer a.s.sured.

With an unhappy glance at the place where Adin had stood, she echoed their enemy's parting words. "Until next time."

10.

THE.

HEAVENLY.

CHORUS.

Raiment lent its soft glow to the otherwise pitch cavern where six Protectors stood watch over the formidable threshold to the Deep. The guards shifted restlessly, and one of the cherubim finally drew his sword. Other blades, a spear, and a bow were swiftly readied as eyes and ears picked up hints of a danger most grave-clicking of teeth, scuffing of feet, and a scrabbling like so many insects. "They come," whispered the bowman, his eyes fixed on the dark depths. "Stand firm."

Suddenly, light bloomed behind them, and they turned in surprise as a door opened from nowhere. Padgett's gaze swept their faces, then darted past them, taking in the oncoming tide. "I was Sent," he announced briskly. "Come away."

"But ... the Deep?" protested one of the guards, confusion plain on his rugged face.

"Leave it in the hands of G.o.d," the Caretaker said, holding out his hand. "Accept the mercy He is extending."

All six immediately strode past Padgett into the light, just as the first of the h.o.a.rd surmounted the cliff. "A Caretaker," the demon hissed, eyeing him warily.

"Once a Protector. Now, a destroyer," the angel returned evenly.

"Get in our way, and you'll suffer!"

Padgett gazed pa.s.sively at the Fallen who feared his presence. "I have already accomplished what I came to do."

The Fallen exchanged glances, and snickers rippled through the mob. "His hands are tied!" taunted one voice.

"Forward!" bellowed another.

A trollish demon bared decayed teeth in a gleeful grimace before lofting a wicked ax and bringing it down against the heavy chains that held fast the Deep. Sparks flew as the weapon skidded off the dark metal. "Not the chains, fool!" shrieked a voice from amidst the mob. "Strike the stone! Loose the anchors!"

The apprentice Caretaker quietly stepped back, taking every trace of light with him as he closed his door upon deeds best left to the darkness.

Prissie's family arrived early at Holy Trinity Presbyterian in order to secure good seats, for even though they'd doubled the number of Pomeroys on the stage this year, they still needed pew s.p.a.ce for nine. The Messiah performance was probably West Edinton's most formal occasion each year, and Prissie loved to see what people were wearing. They always brought out their finest-sparkles and sequins, fringes and fur, cashmere and cufflinks.

She was feeling rather fine herself. All of her friends had long-since given up new dresses for Christmas and Easter, but it was a tradition she clung to with Grandma Nell's help. This year's dress was cut from deep blue fabric with plenty of swish to it, and Prissie adored the way it swirled just above her ankles when she walked. The high waist was trimmed with wide, white satin ribbon that she'd chosen because it reminded her a little of the shining raiment she'd worn in dreams. And Momma had taken the time to weave Prissie's hair into a braided coronet that was almost like a halo, then added several hairpins decorated with tiny, pearly flowers.

Koji looked respectable in his new shirt and tie, and Momma had encouraged him to leave his long hair down. Prissie kept stealing glances, for with his black hair framing his face, he looked more like the angel she'd first met in the orchard. He noticed her stare and whispered, "Is this acceptable?"

"Very," she said firmly. "Even your tie is knotted correctly."

He touched the silk accessory. "Your father helped me."

"You look quite dashing."

Tucking his hair behind his ear, he leaned close to whisper, "I like these shoes. They do not have laces!"

Prissie knew he'd been excited about his new loafers when he'd polished them no less than three times the evening before, and she thought it was sweet.

Just then, Koji's gaze swung toward the orchestra section in front of the stage where the dark-clad musicians were already seated. The soft flutter of pages accompanied the low hum of conversation in the sanctuary. Following the young Observer's gaze, she spotted a latecomer working his way around to one of the empty stools on the side where the band members were set up. It took several moments for her to realize that the person picking up Baird's blue guitar was ... Baird.

The Worshiper's wild red hair had been smoothed back, and he wore a dark sport coat and tie. While he propped his hip on a tall stool and adjusted the strap of his guitar, Koji whispered, "Does he look quite dashing?"

For the first time in her life, Prissie found herself wishing someone would dress down instead of up. Frowning somewhat, she admitted, "He looks quite uncomfortable."

"Indeed."

The choir began filing onto the stage, and Prissie eagerly watched for her friends and family members. Soloists had special seats, and she was thrilled right down to her toes when Milo sought her gaze and smiled. After some orchestral tuning, the director strode to center stage, and when the applause faded, the music began.

Joyous songs lifted her heart to new heights, and she was sure she'd never experienced anything so grand in all her life. Having Koji close, she could hear him humming from time to time. Momma's smile was serene, and Prissie could just see her father tapping his toe in time to the music while he kept Zeke anch.o.r.ed to his side. "Is this like heaven?" she whispered.

The young angel solemnly replied, "It is a foretaste."

Afterward, Prissie wanted to run up with Koji to compliment Milo, but Grandpa Carl tapped their heads, saying, "... and you, and you. In line, fussbudget. It's family portrait time!"

As Grammie Esme hustled them over to a spot in front of a glittering Christmas tree, Koji tentatively asked, "Me too?"

"Sure, sure, you're part of the family this year," Mr. Pomeroy said with authority. "We wouldn't dream of leaving you out!"

Koji's expression filled with wonder, and he murmured soft thanks before hastening to Prissie's side. She wasn't sure if he was simply touched to be included or if he wanted to see what he looked like in a photograph. It was hard to say with Koji because he didn't think about things in the same way she did. One thing was clear, though. He was happy. The young angel stood as close as possible, holding tightly to her hand and beaming while the shutter snapped over and over.

When Grandpa Carl declared himself satisfied, Prissie eased her hand out of Koji's and waved for him to follow. Once they were out of her family's earshot, she asked, "What's put you in such a good mood?"

"Your family has made me most welcome," he replied. "And I am glad there will be a record of my place at your side."

It was an odd way to refer to a photograph, but Prissie shrugged it off when she spotted Kester, who sat quietly in the orchestra section. He looked perfectly natural in his dark suit, but the way his long fingers drummed against the surface of his cello betrayed some measure of restlessness. "You're still here!" she greeted, glancing around. "Are you the only one?"

The tall angel gazed up at her with solemn eyes. "I believe so. Baird asked me to stay here."

She smiled a little. "Did he mean here in the church or here in your chair?"

"He did not specify," Kester replied with chagrin. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

"Very much," she enthusiastically a.s.sured. "It was wonderful, but ..."

His gaze remained locked on hers as he quietly inquired, "Is something on your mind?"

She fidgeted. "Is something the matter?"

"Why do you ask?"