Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light (17 page)

Graygor never managed to close the gap between him and his despicable twin, and he arrived at the Mooar Mountain a good six minutes behind Braygor, gasping and panting as if any breath might be his last. He entered the dark cavernous world via the mountain’s peak, where there lay hidden a cavity just big enough for the smaller demons to enter. When his orange eyes had adjusted to the gloom within, Graygor made his way through the maze of twisting, winding cold stone corridors until he came to Captain Schnither’s quarters. His fury had crescendoed across the duration of his journey, and when he found that his treacherous brother had already secured an audience with Schnither, his rage reached boiling point and threatened to erupt uncontrollably. In his anger, Graygor forgot the miniscule amount of manners he could muster when they were absolutely necessary, and burst through the heavy wooden door into Schnither’s lodgings so that the huge door smacked unceremoniously off the wall with a tumultuous ‘
crack’
.

“
Braygor!
” he bellowed. “Why you little guttersnipe!”

But before Graygor could finish his sentence, Schnither had jumped to his feet in anger and surprise and darted across the room towards a still hissing and fuming Graygor.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” roared Schnither, his deep guttural voice bouncing and reverberating off the stone cavern walls until it seemed to thunder from every orifice of the foreboding mountain. “How
dare
you burst into my chambers unannounced?”

Graygor, instantaneously aware of his own perceived impertinence, and resenting his subordination immensely, cowered back against the cold wall, pushing ever backward in an effort to avoid Schnither’s wrath, until his spiny back was bruised and crushed by the unyielding rock. He could see Braygor smirking smugly behind Schnither, and the sight spurred him on to fury, but he knew better than to push his luck any further.

“I… I am t-t-terribly sorry, Captain Schnither, Your Eminence, Sir…” Graygor stammered, peeping up through lowered orange eyes, and trying desperately to look remorseful. “It is just that I have such wonderful news for you…”

“
Silence!
” spat Schnither, raising his clenched right fist at Graygor, yellow smoke belching angrily from his flared nostrils. “Not another word! Your brother has beaten you to it. I have received his update – excellent work, Braygor!”

“Braygor?!” whimpered Graygor, “But Captain Schnither sir, I…”

“Did I not tell you to be
quiet
?” yelled Schnither, veins popping in his forehead and neck from the ferocity of his temper.

“Still,” Schnither seemed to reconsider and took a step back towards Braygor, “I suppose you did
both
do well. If what I hear is true and those irksome angels have returned to the Atone…” Schnither could not bring himself to form the word in its entirety. “If they have returned to
Him
,” he spat. “Then we have free rein, there will be nothing to stand in the way of us executing our plans tomorrow, and family Wren will be no more!”

The proximity of almost certain victory seemed to have an intoxicating effect on Schnither, and he practically reeled back across the room until he reached his great self-styled wooden throne. He slumped into the glorified chair and threw his left leg over the wooden arm, arrogance oozing from every pore. Schnither motioned at the stump, which hung where his left arm used to be, and raised his right hand to the left side of his head, gingerly touching the still tender wound left when Abaddon had relieved him of his left ear.

“
These
…” He said quietly, “These will almost be worth it once the girl and her family are no more. Abaddon will have a great reward for me, I have no doubt. And as for Cosain… well, let us just say that the Captain of the Heavenly Host will regret the day he took my arm.” Schnither smiled slowly, his loathsome face a fallacious mask of evil intent. “Yes, I will make him sorry…”

Braygor and Graygor hung on Schnither’s every word as if they carried in them the little fiends’ very source of existence. Schnither’s apparent euphoria beguiled them, and made them hungry for the havoc they would soon unleash on Phoebe Wren and her family. They were like little children on the eve of their birthday, excited and expectant.

“Now, go,” instructed Schnither at last, “Keep an eye on those bothersome teenagers, but make sure that no harm befalls them today – we certainly don’t want to spook them and have them call Cosain and his cronies back! We must bide our time for today, and tomorrow…” Schnither grinned widely, revealing three rows of rotting teeth. “Tomorrow, we
strike!
And our aim will be true, rest assured of that!”

Cackling and squawking like overgrown stricken bats, Braygor and Graygor took their leave, and exited the Mooar Mountain. They would keep a careful watch on Phoebe Wren, but would heed Schnither’s warning not to do her any harm for the time being. As the repugnant twins took to the air, Graygor seized his chance, and slapped Braygor as hard as he could across the side of his nasty little head, sending him into a momentary tail spin before Braygor regained his composure and set off in pursuit of his spiny brother, intent on teaching the obnoxious imp a lesson he would not soon forget.

Phoebe and Demetrius spent another few hours together, going over and over what they had packed, and trying to ensure that they had everything with them that they could possibly need. They chatted excitedly about what life might be life back in Ireland, and given that she had left the Emerald Isle behind when she was very little, Phoebe’s memories were hazy and she found herself as excited about seeing it again as Demetrius was about seeing it for the first time.

Eventually, the friends agreed that they had done all they could with their preparations, and Phoebe decided that it was only right for her to return home and leave Demetrius for a last few hours with Esau, Martha and the children.

“Thanks, Bird,” Demetrius smiled at his friend. “You’ve been such a big help to me today. You know, I’ve been so nervous about this move, but now that it’s almost here, I have a deep peace about it. I believe it’s the right thing for me to do, Bird, and I’m so excited to see what’s in store for us.”

Phoebe smiled happily at her best friend. She too was so excited that he was coming home with her and her family, and she couldn’t wait to introduce him to Ella. The thought of the three of them being together, doing everything together, made her so happy that she could burst!

“I know, Dem,” replied Phoebe, “This is just the beginning. I have a feeling that whatever is in front of us is gonna be awesome!” She lowered her voice until it was scarcely louder than a whisper, and confided in her friend: “I’m kinda nervous too though, you know? I know our guardians aren’t far away if we need them, but all this acting like they’ve gone for good, and pretending that we don’t know that the Enemy is watching our every move is giving me the jitters.”

Demetrius nodded his agreement, and mouthed ‘
Me too
’ at her, then Phoebe straightened and resumed conversation in her regular tone. “Right, my folks will be wondering where I am, so I’d better split. See you in the morning? Bright and breezy, don’t go sleeping in!”

“Sleep in? Tomorrow? Not a chance!” Demetrius beamed happily at Phoebe, and gave her a quick hug before she left. “Shall I walk you home, Phoebe? Might be for the best?”

“No, I’m fine, honestly, I’ll be home in a few minutes and I’ll enjoy one last little wander.”

“Well, if you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Bye again Dem.” Phoebe smiled at her friend as she turned to leave.

“See you soon, Bird!” he called after her, and Phoebe waved back over her shoulder at him without turning around.

From the roof of the Otonnos’ house, unseen by human eyes, Braygor and Graygor leered at Phoebe as she closed the front door behind her. They were perched on the stone chimney, crouched down and silent, and behind them were at least twenty five other demons of varying degrees of grotesqueness, all chomping at the bit in their eagerness to create chaos. But they would have to wait. As vile as they were, not one of them dared to defy Captain Schnither in this matter, and so they conceded that pretty little Miss Wren could enjoy one final day before they would mercilessly blow her world apart.

Phoebe was glad to see her parents’ blue four by four parked in the back yard as she arrived back home. There was something reassuring about it just sitting there, and although she had every confidence in Cosain and his Heavenly comrades, she could not deny the unease rumbling around in her belly. Phoebe had been musing over her time in Africa during the short walk back from Demetrius’s house, and the more she pondered, the more certain she became that Cosain and the others had been keeping a watchful eye on her for a lot longer than she was aware. Of course, Cosain had confirmed that they were there to break her fall from the tree when she was six years old, and had steered the careering tractor away from her before she was mown down, but pennies were dropping in Phoebe’s head as she recalled events and instances that she had hitherto put down to coincidence or her eyes playing tricks on her.

Phoebe now recalled most clearly one peculiar happening from Christmas Eve in 2002, an event that had long since been committed to the annals of time. She had been seven years old and excited for Christmas Day. The Wrens always celebrated Christmas to the full, and Phoebe still loved the anticipation and the atmosphere of a Wren Christmas. On 24
th
December 2002, Phoebe’s parents had eventually succeeded in getting their exhausted but excited daughter to bed, but she had been way too hyper to sleep, and had instead read a few pages from her book before getting up and crossing her bedroom floor to the window. Phoebe had pulled back the curtains and looked up at the myriad of dazzling stars, and she could distinctly remember being awestruck at their brilliance. Now, however, Phoebe also recalled one particularly brilliant light that stood out amongst all the others against the black night sky. She recalled too how the ‘star’ had raised a glowing hand to wave at her before vanishing into the blackness, and how she had waved back in childish innocence at the glorious star. Of course, she wanted to tell her parents all about that star, but she had not dared leave her bedroom for fear that Santa Claus might not stop at her house, and in the midst of the wonderful frenzy of Christmas morning, Phoebe’s star was forgotten, never to be thought about again. Until now. In light of all that had taken place during the last few days, Phoebe had no doubt that her special star had in fact been one of the angelic host checking in on her. She thought that it had very probably been Trean, with his white-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, but could not be certain. Either way, she realised that the angelic guard had been with her for a very long time, and was thankful as she recalled familiar words –
‘He will command His angels to guard you in all your ways’
.