Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light (30 page)

“Uh, Ella,” Phoebe was awkward, unsure, but desperate to steer the conversation away from what had just happened in Darken Abbey. “This is Cosain, the Captain of the Host of Heaven, and this is Ernan.” She gestured towards the tall, distinctive looking warriors, who smiled their greeting at Ella. Phoebe stuck her elbow in her friend’s ribs in an effort to bring her round, and the jolt did the trick as Ella blinked and snapped her mouth shut, suddenly aware that she had been gawping.

“Hello,” Ella said, her voice hushed and unsure. “It’s… uh, nice to finally meet you… both.” It sounded infinitely more like a question that a greeting.

“And you, Ella,” said Cosain. “I am sure that Phoebe has filled you in on recent events, although no doubt you still have many questions.”

“You could say that, yes,” admitted Ella, who was wondering whether she might in fact be dreaming. “Although – and I’m sorry if I’m being bold – but, well, don’t you guys have
wings
?”

Phoebe looked at her friend in astonishment. Did Ella really just ask that question? Phoebe was caught up somewhere between amusement and amazement that Ella would be so forthright, but was also secretly glad that she had asked the question which Phoebe herself had not wanted to broach.

For a moment, the gravity of the situation seemed to be forgotten, as Cosain’s face crumpled into laughter at Ella’s temerity. Never before had he encountered a human audacious enough to ask an angel about his wings, let alone on their first meeting.

“Well,” said Cosain, still bemused by Ella’s forthrightness. “Since you ask… Yes, all we angels have wings. But they’re not always visible. They are not in perpetual use, therefore we stow them until the need for them arises.”

“Oh, I see,” said Ella, nodding her head as if the answer she had just received from this towering ethereal being was the most straightforward thing she had ever heard.

“You see,” Cosain continued with his explanation. “Often times, we walk among your race. But we need to go unnoticed. It wouldn’t be the simplest of tasks to go unnoticed if these were on display for all of humanity to see…”

Cosain’s extensive wings suddenly materialised, and the Heavenly Captain unfurled them to their impressive full span.

“Whoa,” murmured Ella. This was obviously more like what she had been expecting.

“It is entirely possible that you have met some of us before,” said Cosain, now addressing all three of the teenagers. “That little old lady you helped across the busy road when nobody else seemed to notice her? An angel in disguise. The homeless guy you bought a coffee for? One of us. You see, there are no insignificant acts. Even the things you think menial, if done with a kind heart and pure intentions, are noted in the Celestial City – they are noted by the Atoner Himself.”

Phoebe, Demetrius and Ella had fallen silent, each mulling over what they had just heard, and wondering whether the little private encounters they had each had on so many occasions in the past might just have been interactions with the Heavenly host.

Momentarily, it occurred to Phoebe that while all this discussion about angels and wings was well and good, there were pressing matters to be discussed, and she brought the current musings to an abrupt end with a simple question.

“Where are the others, Cosain?” asked Phoebe, keen to get down to the matter at hand. The diverse group of angels and mortals had started to move forward again, and Cosain responded to Phoebe’s question as they walked.

“They are making plans in the Celestial City. Neam and Cahir are nearby, they have been keeping an eye on you three the last few days – and I imagine that today you are especially glad that they were?” Cosain raised a knowing eyebrow as he looked from Phoebe to Demetrius to Ella and back again. Phoebe was feeling like a scolded child again, but she knew that they deserved to be chastised; their actions could have had serious and irrevocable consequences, not only for them but for whatever task they were involved with.

“Yes, we are. Very glad,” Phoebe admitted. “We only intended to have a look around the abbey, really. We never meant to go inside. But –
oh my
– what we found there! Cosain, what’s going on? Why is Darken Abbey so very important to the evil army?”

Cosain and Ernan stopped walking again, and looked at each other as if deciding exactly what Phoebe and her friends needed to know.

“Stop a while,” Cosain’s words sounded more like a command than a suggestion, and Phoebe, Demetrius and Ella did not dare question his instruction as the group came to an abrupt halt. The teenagers descended a gentle grassy incline and hopped up on to a stone wall next to the stream where the angels had previously gathered with Phoebe and Demetrius just a few days ago.

“It is time.” Cosain considered his words before continuing. “It is time that you knew exactly what it is you have been chosen to do. You have proved yourselves trustworthy and brave, and I know that your hearts are inclined towards the Atoner and His plans. Your lives thus far have lead to this moment – there have been no coincidences, no chance meetings, everything has happened for a reason. We –
you
– are on the cusp of the greatest mission you could imagine. Phoebe, your parents have been planning and dreaming about establishing an organisation that will bring justice and hope where there has been despair and unfairness. But any plans for unity and peace are contrary to the Enemy’s plans for destruction and division, and he will do all in his power to thwart the Atoner’s arrangements. It is no coincidence that Abaddon has despatched Schnither and his troops to Darken Abbey, for it is here that your parents will establish CJM.”

“CJM?” Ella’s head was so full of facts and happenings and information that she could not recall what the letters stood for.

“The Celtic Justice Mission,” Ernan answered Ella’s question, and she nodded her understanding, still too bewildered by the fact that she was
talking to an angel
to think of any response that might make her sound mature and intelligent.

With the teenagers perched expectantly on the stonewall, Phoebe had a feeling that utter concentration would be required for Cosain’s account of Darken Abbey’s history, and she did her best to get comfortable as the Captain of the Host began to relay his incredible tale.

“Darken Abbey was once a beacon of goodness and hope on this lovely island of yours,” Cosain said. “It stood as a refuge for the poor and the broken and the forgotten, and was run by a group of honourable, upright men – with a little help from some of our angelic number. In fact, I was stationed there myself for quite some time to keep watch over the monks. The abbey has always been a very special place; it was designated by the Atoner Himself as a place from which He could reach out through those He selected to fulfil His purposes. Sadly, however, darkness often has a way of finding its way where it is not wanted, and at Darken Abbey it found its way into the heart of things when a couple of the monks were duped by Craven the Deceiver.”

“Craven?” Phoebe interjected. “We’ve encountered him before, back in Africa! How on earth did he get into the middle of a bunch of monks, and in an abbey of all places?”

“You are right, Phoebe,” answered Cosain. “You have come across Craven before. He is one of Abaddon’s personal favourites; he always has been, from aeons past. Craven has been at Abaddon’s side from the very beginning – if evil knows any loyalty, then Craven comes as close to displaying it as any demon I have ever encountered. He is a fearsome foe, there is no doubt about that, but he is also the most devious and wily of creatures, and latterly he has been despatched by Abaddon to assist Schnither in destroying the Atoner’s plans for you and your parents.”

“So,” said Demetrius, trying to disguise his impatience as he attempted to draw the conversation back towards Darken Abbey. “What did these rogue brothers do that was so bad?”

“To call them rogue is somewhat unfair, Demetrius. In fact, for all intents and purposes, they were good men with honest intentions, but Craven did what he does best – he lied to them, deceived them, and gradually planted ideas and suggestions in their heads until they did what history tells us many good men have done – they gave way to temptation and they fell from grace. Their fall would not have been irrevocable, however; they could have found grace again and the situation could have been redeemed, but Craven was thorough in his work, and the end result was catastrophic.”

Cosain’s face took on a pained expression as if the memories of what happened almost a century ago still haunted him. He paused briefly before continuing.

“Craven quickly sought out the two monks who he knew he could most easily influence – Brother Byron and Brother Ernest were genuine and sincere, devoted to the Atoner and to their brotherhood, but they were young and perhaps lacking in wisdom, so when Craven arrived at Darken Abbey with the subtle but persistent promise of incalculable wealth and riches, and a better, more comfortable life for them, these young monks could not resist forever. Of course, Craven did not appear to them as
Craven
; no, the troublemaker wormed his way into the abbey in
human form
, under the guise of a fellow monk – Brother Clarence. At first, Clarence was an incredible help to the hard working monks, and was welcomed as a brother. He was well respected and liked by all the local townsfolk, and for some time it appeared that his entire focus was on helping the poor and ensuring justice for those who could not speak up for themselves. The monks and villagers alike rejoiced that Brother Clarence had joined their ranks and were so thankful for his presence with them.”

Cosain paused again, perhaps to draw breath, or perhaps because he was aware that his tale was already weighing heavily on his young listeners. It was a tale that must be told, however, and so Cosain continued.

“Once he had secured the trust of Brother Byron and Brother Ernest in particular, Craven – or Brother Clarence – chipped away at the unsuspecting monks until finally he persuaded them that there was
much
more to life than meagre possessions and a lifestyle devoted to simplicity and Godliness. Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, he whispered persistent
‘what ifs’
to the young monks, and filled their heads with notions of wealth and grandeur. Craven worked incognito to create a restlessness and dissatisfaction in the young monks’ souls that could no longer be satisfied by their desire to serve the Atoner, and they were quietly offered subtle suggestions as to how they could better their lives. At first, Craven persuaded them that there could be no real harm in their racketeering and money making schemes, as the abbey would benefit from their tactics, and he encouraged them in stealthy, underhand agreements with rich local landowners, who would part with large sums of money for Brothers Byron’s and Ernest’s assurance that the abbey would turn a blind eye while the rich got richer at the expense of the poor. Craven whispered his twisted logic to Byron and Ernest, convincing them that what they were doing was not wrong since nobody was injured or killed, but was in fact just good business. You see, that is what the Enemy excels at – selling mortals a teaspoon of truth so they swallow a bucketful of lies, and the two young monks fell for Craven’s trickery.

As time went on and Brothers Byron and Ernest accumulated more and more wealth, they became greedy and no matter how much money they made, it was just never enough. Of course, this was playing right into Craven’s hands, and he was delighted with the results of his mischief making. The wayward monks began to be more brazen in the things they would do for money – it was inevitable that they would get caught because as they threw caution to the wind, they got careless, and eventually Brother Bennett, the abbey’s head monk, got wind of what they had been doing and, with a heavy heart, called in the authorities. Byron and Ernest were arrested, tried and imprisoned for their pilfering and extortion, and Brother Clarence was to be indicted for the role he had played in the whole sorry affair, but he was nowhere to be found – hardly surprising since Craven simply discarded his mortal disguise and disappeared back to the Mooar Mountain once his dastardly task was complete. Very quickly, Byron and Ernest came to realise how they had been misguided and both monks repented, but by then Craven’s work was complete. Local people no longer trusted the monks, whose communal reputation had been seriously tarnished. Brother Bennett blamed himself for not seeing through Clarence’s schemes, and felt he could no longer continue in his role as head monk. He packed up and left the abbey, and although a few tried to step into his shoes and revive the life of the abbey, no-one could fulfil Brother Bennett’s role as overseer and adviser and it was only a matter of time until Darken Abbey shut its doors forever.”

“Greed, bribery, corruption, holding people to ransom – I get how these are all bad things to do,” interjected Phoebe. “But how does it all relate to us? I mean, were there bigger consequences than just an abbey closing down?”

“Ah, yes Phoebe,” replied Cosain nodding his head thoughtfully. “There are
always
consequences and repercussions when people choose to satisfy self against the Atoner’s plans. The decimation of the monks’ reputation was not the only by-product of the scandal. The removal of the abbey and the good works being done by the monks left a void, and Abaddon seized his chance. He replaced good with evil, light with darkness, angels with demons, and what once stood as a light on a hill bringing hope and justice to this village and indeed the whole island and beyond, was filled instead with blackness and angst. The local people realised too late that in shunning what had been good in their midst, they had created space for its antithesis, and so to this day deceit and injustice and trouble preside where once shone good. When people wilfully reject the light, darkness wastes no time in usurping its place.”