Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light (19 page)

Phoebe and her parents arrived at the Otonnos’ home within minutes, and Jack barely had time to turn off the ignition before Phoebe had jumped out of the Jeep and was running towards the front door. She bounded up the steps and on to the front porch, by which time an equally excited Demetrius had appeared out through the front door, leaving a bemused Esau to trail his packed to capacity suitcase out on to the porch.

Phoebe and Demetrius, sporting matching grins, greeted each other with a huge bear hug. “Can you believe it’s actually
today
, Dem?” gasped Phoebe. “Can you believe it’s really happening?”

“I know, Bird,” beamed Demetrius, “Who would ever have thought this could happen?”

“Good morning guys,” Jack called to Esau and Martha, who had joined her husband on the front porch, as he and Eva got out of their Jeep and walked towards their friends. “These are for you, Esau,” said Jack, reaching his friend the keys of the Wren’s depleted home. “And this is the spare key for the Jeep, I’ll leave it in car park D at the airport so it’s easy to find for you, okay? Big day, eh?”

“Yes,” said Martha, with more than just a hint of sadness in her voice. “A very big day for us all.”

“Aww, Aunt Martha,” soothed Demetrius, “Don’t be sad, I’ll be in touch all the time, I promise.”

“I know, Honey,” smiled Martha, as her eyes flooded with tears, and Esau came over and wrapped a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulders. Behind them, Bessie, Jacob and Grace had ventured out on to the porch. Jacob and Grace were too young to fully comprehend what was happening, and they toddled off to play ball, but seven year old Bessie was a sensitive child anyway, and the thought of losing her honorary ‘big brother’ was too much for her and she stood silently weeping behind her mother, whose skirt she was clutching tightly.

“Come here, Bessie,” coaxed Demetrius. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

A timid and tearful Bessie stepped out cautiously from behind her mother, and shuffled slowly over to Demetrius. He knelt down in front of the upset little girl, and hugged her tight. Jacob and Grace rushed over when they saw their sister with Demetrius, and he hugged them both too. Satisfied that they had gotten their share of the cuddles, Jacob and Grace ran off to play, and Demetrius turned again to Bessie.

“Here, Bessie, this is for you,” Demetrius said gently as he held out his hand to his little cousin. Bessie tentatively put out her small hand, and Demetrius set a tiny silver cross on a fine chain in her palm. Bessie’s pretty face lit up as if all her birthdays had come at once, and she threw her arms around Demetrius’s neck.

“You wear this, Bessie and every time you touch it you can think of me and know that I’ll be thinking of you. Deal?”

Bessie nodded slowly, and wiped her eyes. “Thank you, Dem,” she said in her sweet childish voice. “I’ll wear it all the time, it’s so pretty. Dem,” she hesitated. “I love you lots, and I’m gonna miss you.” Her eyes welled up with tears again, and Demetrius cuddled his little cousin a final time and whispered, “I love you too, Bessie,” in her ear.

When Demetrius stood back up to his feet, he realised that everyone had fallen silent, and five sets of teary eyes were fixed on him. Not wanting to break down in floods of tears himself, Demetrius smiled and deliberately brightened his tone.

“Well, this is it I guess,” he said, considerably more cheerily than he felt. “We had better be off, don’t want to miss that plane!”

Demetrius hugged his aunt and uncle once more, then collected up his suitcase, and handed it over to Jack, who plonked it in the trunk of the Jeep next to Phoebe’s.

“Thank you, all of you, for everything. I’ll call you when we arrive. And start planning when you’re gonna come visit, okay?” Demetrius swallowed hard. “I love you all.” And with that, he descended the steps off the front porch of the house that had been his home for ten years, and climbed into the Wrens’ Jeep, pulling the door closed behind him with a clunk that seemed to resonate with finality.

As Jack pulled away from the Otonnos’ house and on to the road that would bring them to Johannesburg International Airport, Demetrius looked back through the Jeep’s rear window, and waved madly with both hands at the family he was leaving behind. Uncle Esau, Aunt Martha and the kids all waved back until Demetrius could no longer see them, and he turned round to face the front, settled into his seat, and smiled reassuringly at an anxious looking Phoebe.

“I’m okay, Bird,” he said, and the contented smile on his face reiterated this sentiment. “It’s not really goodbye, just ‘so long’ for a while. I’m really excited about what lies ahead.”

“I’m so glad, Dem,” smiled Phoebe, “I just know that you’re gonna love Ireland. And Ella!”

The teenagers relaxed back into the journey; in a few short hours, they would be airborne and en route to Ireland. Phoebe couldn’t wait – but for some reason the gnawing angst in her belly just would not disappear.

Graygor made it to the Mooar Mountain in record time, and wasted no time in scurrying through its dismal corridors to Schnither’s chambers. He barely acknowledged the sentries stationed at Schnither’s closed door, and shot past them almost before they had time to think. The guards blustered into Schnither’s room on Graygor’s heels, but were hastily bundled back out again through the open doors by Schnither, who had been impatiently awaiting word on the Wrens’ progress.

Schnither slammed the great door shut with just the slightest twitch of a finger, and without ever making physical contact with any part of it. “Now, Graygor, we are alone. Quickly, what news?”

“The girl and her family are on the move, Sir. They are en route to the airport via the Otonno house, and do not suspect a thing. My brother and I stayed with them all night, and none of those bumbling mortals sensed anything untoward.” Graygor paused, and the miniscule moment of hesitation was enough to cause Schnither’s head to jerk up and his mouth gaped open in an instant of uncertainty and panic.

“And?” snarled Schnither. “What went wrong?”

Graygor could see that his Captain was on edge, and realised that Abaddon the Defiler must be utterly intent on executing whatever he had planned to the last degree.

“Nothing, Captain,” he retorted quickly, anxious to appease his master and earn respect for himself. “It is just that I am
thrilled…
” he rolled the word over his hacked purple lips with gusto, “…to be able to report that those
stupid
angels really have returned to the Celestial City. They thought they were so clever and strong, but how easily they were fooled! Their departure will soon prove premature, and this time there will be nothing at all that they can do about it. They have let the girl down. They have let
Him
down…” Graygor’s obvious pleasure at what he had just reported was oozing from his entire form like a malevolent cloud, and the words slurped over his green tongue and dripped from his snarling mouth like a putrid slime. He could see that Schnither was pleased, and was sure he would be rewarded for his tenacity and ingenuity.

“Good,” Schnither growled, “It is exactly as I had hoped. The demise of the Wrens is at hand. Now, go back to your brother and continue to monitor the family’s whereabouts. I will assemble the troops here and meet you at the airport forthwith.”

Graygor loitered on in Schnither’s chambers, disappointment and indignation tugging at the sides of his mouth. Had he not been so utterly foul and malevolent, the sorry sight of his downturned bottom lip and little drooped shoulders may even have inspired something akin to sympathy for the wretched creature.

“What is it now?” Schnither barked, startling Graygor out of his self pitying reverie. The stubby little demon jumped and muttered, “Nothing, Captain,” as he turned to leave the room, deeply vexed to not even have his work commended.

“Oh, Graygor,” Schnither’s tone was quieter but nonetheless threatening, as the realisation of Graygor’s disappointment at once amused and annoyed him.

“Yes Sir?” Graygor spun around to find Schnither’s one-eared head just inches from his face, red eyes boring into his face. He squirmed backwards uneasily, but Schnither continued to invade his personal space as he hissed menacingly, “Well done,
cretin
.” Schnither’s face had twisted into the antithesis of a smile, and Graygor shuddered.

“T-thank you, Captain, it was nothing.” he stammered, and was immediately furious with himself for belittling his own achievements.

“Ah, I see,” smirked Schnither. “Well, if it was nothing, then you won’t be expecting any recompense, will you?” His voice had crescendoed to a booming roar and Graygor cowered beneath his foreboding form.

“No, Sir, it is my honour my Liege.” Graygor started to grovel, but was unceremoniously cut short by Schnither’s thunderous, “
Be gone!
” Graygor did not have to be told twice, and he turned on his heels and shot out of Schnither’s murky and claustrophobic chambers. He was indignant and smarting from the harsh rebuttal, but he would use his anger to fuel him to complete this mission – and then some! He would forget about Schnither’s failure to acknowledge his genius. Who was Schnither anyway but a jumped up demon with not even half the intelligence or ability that he had! Besides, there was every chance that his exploits would be made famous and perhaps even Abaddon himself would hear of Graygor’s incredible feats of evil and personally give him his due rewards.

For a good part of the thirty minute journey to Johannesburg International Airport, the still bleary eyed and groggy travellers drove in silence. Whether each was merely tired, or whether they were caught up in their own thoughts about the adventure that lay ahead of them could not be easily discerned. As they hit the last stretch of open road before they reached their destination, a flurry of movement away out to the left caught Phoebe’s eye. She strained her eyes to see what the commotion was about, and as a flapping swirling black mass got closer, it morphed into the outline of two small snarly demons – Braygor and Graygor. Phoebe jabbed Demetrius sharply in the ribs with her elbow, causing him to catch his breath and issue an indignant ‘
ouch!
’ He frowned and looked at his friend questioningly, then followed Phoebe’s horrified gaze and saw for himself the terrible twins, swooping their descent from the skies directly towards the Wren’s Jeep.

“Uh, Dad,” stammered Phoebe, desperate for an excuse to evade certain attack without making her parents suspicious of her peculiar behaviour. “Don’t you think we’re cutting it fine for the airport? Maybe we should hurry up a bit?”

Jack and Eva threw simultaneous questioning glances into the back of the vehicle at Phoebe, who was doing her best to appear casual and nonchalant. Eva chuckled at her daughter’s uncharacteristic desire to hurry. “What’s the rush Phoebs? We’ve got plenty of time.” Ordinarily, getting Phoebe to where she needed to be on time was an unenviable task as she was a typically lackadaisical teenager.

“I know, Mum, it’s just that… uh, what if there’s a massive queue at security? Or they need to check Dem’s papers? Or our bags are too big?” Phoebe was babbling now, hurried words tumbling from her mouth in a jumbled manner that bordered on being nonsensical.

“It’ll be fine, Phoebe,” said Jack. “If
I’m
not panicking, then there certainly is no reason for
you
to be!” He smiled contentedly at his own little joke as Eva chuckled again. Her husband had a point– if Jack was saying they were on time, then by anyone else’s standards they must be ridiculously early!

Phoebe glanced nervously again out of the window, the sense of panic rising in her throat. Braygor and Graygor were catching up fast, and were now close enough that she could see Braygor’s green tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth like a bizarre effigy of a puppy, as if so doing somehow made him move faster.

“Well, uh, can you put your window up please, Mum?” spluttered Phoebe. “I’m, uh… cold!” She was getting desperate now and her excuses made less and less sense.