The Gift of Light: (Revised) (The Gifts Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter Five

Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies; who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Psalms 103:1-5

King James Version

     Marta missed a good bit of school after the incident with Bradley. She’d lost most of her beautiful long hair and had large bald patches on her head.

     Emily sat alone at lunch every day. She’d tried several times to call Marta, but her mother said she wasn’t really up to talking to anyone just yet. She prayed daily for her friend to get well, and hoped they could get together again soon.

     The only good thing to come out of the whole ordeal was that Bradley was gone as well. Rumor had it that his father shipped him off to Mexico. Emily hoped that he stayed gone forever. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, though. Especially after the dream she had, and knowing the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his father. Still, she was afraid of him, and she never wanted Marta to see his face again.

     After a couple of weeks went by, Emily got a phone call from Amy Sims, telling her that Marta really wanted to see her. Could she come for a visit? That next Saturday, Liam dropped Emily off at Marta’s house.

     Mrs. Sims, or Amy, as she preferred, led Emily upstairs. She gave her a smile and told her that Marta looked very different and not to let her see the shock.

She nodded. “Not to worry, Amy, I just really want to let her know how happy I am to get to see her again.”

     Emily went to the room herself and knocked softly. She heard Marta call out to her, “Come in Emily. I’ve been waiting for you.

     As Emily let herself in, she spotted Marta sitting in front of her mirror at her little white desk. The room looked the same with the pastel colors and the rainbow-covered canopy bed. Marta turned and beamed a bright smile at her. Both girls ran to each other and shared a big hug.

     “Oh, I’ve missed you, Marta!”

     “And I missed you, too!” She took a step back, turned her head from side to side, and said,

     “Well, what do you think of my new look?”

      “I think I like it, you know,” Emily said honestly. Gone were the long, thick brown locks of hair, but for one long strand on the right side of her head. Marta braided and decorated it with bright, colorful beads. Her hair had already started to grow back and a soft downy cap covered her scalp. Soon the silky hair would thicken to regain its former beauty.

     The dark circles under her eyes, the only other evidence of the emotional suffering she’d experienced from the brutal attack, had faded.

     “Well, how are you doing?” Emily asked after a long pause. “Really.”

     “My parents are taking me to see a therapist at church. He’s helping me. I feel better and stronger every day. Mom says I can go back to school next week. I’m really looking forward to it.”

     “You know Bradley is gone, right? He hasn’t come back to school since it happened.”

     “Oh, I know. My dad had a talk with his dad. Bradley is never coming back to school at Hook Pond again. His father had to promise so my dad wouldn’t press charges.”

     Emily let out a sigh of relief. “I hope neither of us ever sees him again. Everyone at school is saying he got shipped off to Mexico.”

     “No. My dad says he’s gone to a military school in New Mexico. At least it’s far, far away from here. My therapist says that for me to heal, I have to forgive Bradley and move on. I’m having a little trouble with that. The therapist says that Jesus and I will work it out in time. I don’t know. I really just want to hate him forever right now, you know?” She gave Emily a haunted look that spoke volumes about her inner turmoil.

     With her brightest smile lighting her face, Emily took Marta’s hand. “Let’s make a pact right now to put Bradley behind us. I know we should forgive him, but for now, I just want to forget about him and get you back to school. It’s really crappy for me when you’re not there.”

      Marta laughed her tinkling laugh. “Deal, pact made.”

     The girls shook hands on it and spent the rest of the day watching movies in Marta’s room and eating popcorn that her mother brought them. It was great to see her daughter smiling again, and Amy sent a whispered, “Thank you” up to Jesus for it.

     Staniel heard her sincere offering of thanks as he continued his watch over both girls. He knew the Lord Jesus had heard it, too.

     In the way of all angels, the physical wounds Staniel suffered from the attack healed almost instantly, but his pride and his spirit still suffered. Blame. He blamed himself for not being able to keep Marta safe, and guilt and condemnation filled his heart with sorrow every time he looked at her. No matter how much Liam told him otherwise, he could not forgive himself. Finally, his brooding prompted a visit from the archangel.

     Michael found Staniel floating in the rafters of Gemma’s church on Sunday morning. The small chapel filled to capacity as its devoted members gathered to worship the Lord Jesus Christ. Staniel watched over Gemma and Emily as they listened to the sermon. The church provided a sign language interpreter for its deaf members, and sometimes Emily served in that capacity. Today she worshiped in the front row next to her aunt.

     “Michael.” Staniel bowed his head to the giant archangel as a sign of respect and acknowledgement of his presence.

     “Staniel.” Michael returned the bow.

     “What brings you here, my Liege?”

     “I have come to see you, dear brother. Liam tells me you blame yourself for the attack on Marta Sims and you must not.”

     “Indeed. She was in my charge, was she not?” Staniel spoke with his head bowed, ashamed.

     “My brother, gird your loins. The battle we engage in is brutal and bloody. We will have casualties on both sides until the End of Days and that great last and final battle. Armageddon will come soon enough, and all will be made right by the Lord of Hosts. Michael laid a hand on Staniel’s shoulder.

     “Take heart and bask in the praise and glory of our Lord God almighty. Let the prayers of the saints lift you and allow the Holy Spirit to build you up. You have fought valiantly and well.”

     He nodded at Staniel. “I could not have done better than you did.”

     Staniel felt the heaviness of his burden lighten with those comforting words and with the prayers and offerings of worship coming from the saints in the church below, his strength renewed.

     Michael stayed with him in the rafters for a while, their wings causing a gentle flutter as they gloried in the praises to the Lord and enjoyed the nourishing strength it gave them. Before he took his leave, Michael reminded

Staniel that his current assignment was to watch over Gemma and Emily.

     “With Emily, we will achieve our final goal for this one battle. It is her destiny and we must protect her in order that she touch the others and bring them into salvation.”

     Staniel nodded his head in acceptance. He knew what was at stake, and raising his wings in praise to the Lord, felt the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Strength and faith renewed, and he worshiped the Lord with songs of praise, joining the saints below.

      Liam, in angelic form, called a meeting of all the angels in the area. They had to plan a strategy for keeping the saints of Hook Pond safe from Azelius and his demon horde. They met secretly under cloak of night in the dense woods on the Perry House estate.

     It was a longtime angelic stronghold and belonged to the Perry family for generations. The Perry’s, faithful Christians and ardent followers of the Lord, made the lands of the estate holy ground, consecrated over the years by their strong relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

     Should a demon try to enter the estate, the angels cast them out immediately. They could only come so close to such sacred grounds.

     Liam took great care in keeping the actual numbers of angels in the area a closely guarded secret from Azelius. The angels had battled with the demon prince many times over the centuries, and learned what a formidable and powerful enemy they faced. It would be unwise to underestimate his strength and abilities to attack and fight as well as guard his stronghold over the Steel family, also spanning back generations.

     Liam addressed the assembled angels. “We must post extra warriors to guard the school and the Sims’s home. We need to drive the demons back! We cannot let what happened to Marta happen again. This will reveal our numbers, but we must send a sure clear message to Azelius that we will not let him harm another saint of our Lord. I have been in touch with Michael and he is sending reinforcements.

     “Emily needs time to learn of her destiny if we are to be successful in overthrowing the stronghold Azelius has over the senator. We know that he has long had his eye on the White House. If the senator continues his plans to run for president in the future, our battle will only get worse. Emily and Gemma are key players in defeating Azelius.”

     The angels murmured their assent as Liam continued. “Gemma is praying, as always. Mr. Perry will pray as well. We must get all the saints in the area to pray as quickly as possible. We need the prayer coverage to give us strength to be successful. I believe that surrounding the boy, Bradley, with Christians and prayers will be a strong element in getting to the senator.”

     Liam dispatched two angels to New Mexico to work on bringing the senator’s son to Jesus. “It will not be an easy task. The boy is angry and hurt. You must keep him surrounded by the saints at all times to drive away the demons, Rebellion and Hate.

     Do whatever it takes to break the influence they have over the boy. The Holy Spirit will take it from there if the saints will continue to pray for him.”

     The two chosen angels rushed away at the speed of light, headed to New Mexico.

     “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy,” they shouted. The other angels returned their battle cry with raised swords. “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy!”

     Liam then turned to Terrence, the largest of the warrior angels among them. “I have a mission of great urgency. You must keep close watch on the comings and goings at the senator’s mansion. Remain hidden at all times and report back to me should anything of importance come to pass.”

     Terrence unsheathed his sword, crossed his heart and then raised the blade into the air. “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy.” He disappeared.

     Liam continued. “The rest of us must encourage our charges to start praying in earnest, both for the boy and the senator. We will cover the school and the Sims’s home with intercessory prayer. We cannot fail. This mission is too important.”

     The remaining angels raised their swords in salute. “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy,” they shouted as they dispersed in haste to get the prayer coverage started.

     “And greatly to be praised,” intoned Liam. He raised his wings and covered his head, communing with the Lord and the Holy Spirit. All over town, the saints awakened and found themselves on bended knees before they even knew what to pray for.

     Gemma was the only saint who knew exactly what was happening. Staniel shared everything with her so that she could pray in the Spirit for the boy and for the protection of them all.

Chapter Six

The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, “I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. If you worship me, it will all be yours.”

Luke 4:5-7

New International Version

     Amelia Stanford, a reclusive middle aged woman, lived alone in despair.

     She spent her days wandering around her large Manhattan penthouse. Money had never been an issue for her, but there are some things even money cannot fix. In the last ten years, Amelia lost everyone she had ever cared about in her life, lost them finally and forever.

     Her baby sister died from a drug overdose after a failed marriage to a horrible man. The shock of her death triggered the passing of both parents.

Her loss broke their hearts and they simply gave up.

     Amelia, once a vibrant and beautiful young socialite, popular and admired in her circle, now looked twice her age as the ravages of grief and loneliness took a toll on her health.

     All she had left in her life was a vast fortune and a grieving, withered soul.

     She sat at her desk this day, writing a letter to her solitary surviving relative, her nephew. After a long delay, her he was finally in a place where she could communicate with him without his father intervening.

     Amelia had spent a fortune on private investigators to keep an eye on the boy, waiting for the precise moment to reach out to her sister’s only child. Unlike countless others she’d written that he’d never received, he’d get this letter. In it was information the boy could use to contact her.

     Hope was all that remained as she prayed the boy would not reject her the way his father had. Just as she finished sealing the envelope, a knock on the door told her the private messenger had arrived. She handed him the letter and round trip plane tickets to Roswell, New Mexico.

     “Remember, you must personally give him this envelope. Personally.”

     “Yes, madam. I will place the letter in the boy’s hands.” He took it, the plane tickets, a large cash payment for his services and left.

     A silent watcher stood just inside the doorway to the penthouse, his presence unseen and undetected by humans. It had been this angel’s assignment to cloak and cover Amelia since the death of her sister. Unbeknownst to her, he had never left her side in all that time.

     The guardian angels of Hook Pond assumed the protection of Emily and Marta’s school.

     Enormous warrior angels surrounded the entire building, including the rooftops. With a strict no

demons allowed policy in place, they stayed hyper vigilant for marauding attackers seeking entrance.

     Now, the demons must wait outside the school grounds for their charges to come out. This bit of news infuriated Azelius, demon prince of Hook Pond, as it diminished him. Angelic interference of any kind threatened his status.

     He raged at his minions, face contorted with anger as he blasted the demon horde for their shoddy performance.

     “How could you let this happen?” One brave demon dared to answer. “My Prince, the school is overrun with more than two hundred angelic sentries. None of us may pass. They grow stronger each day as the woman who prays prays along with the rest of the saints in Hook Pond.”

      Azelius ran the demon slayer through with his sword. It disappeared in a puff of putrid yellow smoke.

     “Now, how many more of you will I send into the abyss before you take back what is mine by right?”

     The horde fled the site in fear of being the next to suffer the wrath of their Prince.

     Azelius paced the grounds of the senator’s mansion with his black wings fluttering behind him, his rage slow to cool. For two days and nights, he paced before reason returned. It occurred to him that if the angels got stronger with the worship of the saints, then he, too, would need his own kind of worship.

     He needed a human demon worshiper, one well versed in the arts of witchcraft. It must be a human with knowledge of sorcery and deception, one powerful enough to gather humans in sufficient numbers to create a coven of worshipers to pray to him. He must secure his hold over the senator and the township of Hook Pond.

     The tricky part would be to leave his stronghold here long enough to find such a person. A cruel and evil smile crossed his lips as an idea formed in his malevolent mind.

     He found the senator in his office. With a few words whispered into his ears, the senator decided that he needed to get some rest and a vacation right now was just not possible. He needed to find someone who could help with the great stress of gearing up for another election campaign. He needed a guru or shaman to teach him ways to remain composed and calm in the face of great pressure and stress.

     Better still, he would get one of his own and have that person live here in the house with him. Make this person his own personal stress reliever. He made a quick call to his assistant, told her what he wanted, and demanded that she make it happen, ASAP.

     Azelius sat back on his heels in a corner of the office and summoning his minions, sent them forth to find the sorcerer he needed and to make sure it was the one meant for him.

     “I will build my own defense against the woman who prays and her interfering prayers.

     “New Mexico is hot.” Amelia Stanford’s private messenger muttered under his breath as bullets of sweat rolled over his puffy cheeks under the unrelenting desert sun. He’d walked all over the grounds of the military

school searching for Bradley Steel. He knew the boy’s father had given orders that communication or mail of any kind directed to the boy must come from him or approved through his offices. The messenger avoided the main buildings,

and finally found a young girl who told him where he might find Bradley.

     She pointed at the athletic field and the young man running laps around the track as punishment for some infraction of school rules. It must have been serious to warrant running in this heat.

     He found Bradley about to leave the track, his price paid, face severely flushed and clothes soaked with sweat. The boy doubled over, hands on his knees, trying to regain his breath as the messenger approached.

     “Are you Bradley Steel?”

     “Depends on who’s asking?” The boy had a mouth on him. No wonder he was running laps.

     “Who I am is of no consequence. I have an urgent message from your Aunt, Amelia Stanford. Are you Bradley Steel?”

      “You mean my crazy Aunt Amelia? My father said she lost her mind years ago. Yeah, I’m the one you’re looking for.”

     Bradley decided to cooperate as he took the envelope, glared at it for a few seconds and then stuffed it into his pocket.

     The messenger used his cell to take a quick picture of Bradley holding the letter, and sent it to Ms. Stanford, with the message mission accomplished. Before Bradley could stop him, the man was long gone.

     Bradley ignored the letter in his pocket and headed to his dormitory for a quick shower. He didn’t like being there, but it was preferable to living with his father. He spent his morning doing drills, then chapel time after breakfast, which to him was just a bunch of hooey.

     His father rarely went to church, and when he did, it was just for show. Bradley’s afternoons were filled with classes, then more drills, supper and finally to bed by nine o’clock curfew. He would have rebelled at the curfew, but he was so tired by the end of the day, he just fell into bed, exhausted.

     He’d learned to watch his mouth and his attitude. Geez, all he said today was how hot this damn desert was, next thing he knew he was running laps for cursing. In the last few weeks, he’d run more laps than anyone else on campus.

     Somehow he’d found himself in a place crawling with Christians, the real kind, who actually prayed and stuff. Even his roommate prayed every morning and every night. How stupid was that?

     Bradley had to run to the dorms or else he would miss supper. As he undressed, the envelope fell to the floor. He kicked it under his bed, left it and jumped into the shower.

     In the corner of Bradley’s dorm room cowered the demons, Hate and Rebellion, held at sword point by three very large angelic warriors. Two were part of Liam’s band, the other, the watcher angel for Bradley’s roommate.

     Soon the two demons would lose any influence they ever had over their charge. Which was worse, facing Azelius or dying by angelic hand? Neither choice looked good to the badly weakened demons.

***

      Back in Hook Pond, Terrence was an angel on a mission. A strange person had arrived at the senator’s mansion. Terrence recognized the markings of the powerful demon council Ba al’ tattooed on the man’s arms and forehead. The olive skinned fellow wore a thin red robe with a matching red turban wrapped around his head. He wore the Ba al’ royal colors. This did not bode well. Azelius had brought in a sorcerer disguised as a holy man.

     Terrence waited until cover of night before leaving his hiding place in the trees on the edge of the Senator’s grounds. In a flash, he soared into the air, heading to Perry House. This was news Liam needed to hear.