Phoebe Wren and the Vortex of Light (23 page)

Suddenly, from the skies above, Cosain’s voice sounded out loud and clear, “
Lasair! Behind you!
” But it was just a split second too late. As Lasair spun around, Schnither raised his serrated blade, and before the Heavenly warrior had time to react, Schnither’s sword found its mark, plunging deep into Lasair’s right side through the joins in his armour. The mighty angel’s face crumpled with pain and disbelief as the realisation of what had happened spread over his face like a mask. He let go of his glowing sword and staggered a few feet along the top of the plane before dropping to his knees, his hands clasped to the wound in his side, desperately trying to stem the torrent of blood. Schnither sneered cruelly, unable and unwilling to hide his delight, and advanced rapidly along the aeroplane to finish off the job. He knew that there was no time to lose and raised his sword once again to slay Lasair as he lay bleeding on top of the plane.

“You might win this battle, Schnither,” gasped Lasair through the searing pain in his side. “But you will never –
never
– win the war. You and your dark hordes are doomed, your fate is sealed in Eternity, there will be no respite for you!”

“Be that as it may,
Lasair
,” hissed Schnither with a lecherous sneer etched across his face. “But
your
fate is sealed
now
, for eternity!”

As Schnither swung his sword, Lasair felt a peace descend throughout his being and he smiled as he closed his eyes for the inevitable. But the fatal strike never came, and as a tormented scream reverberated across the sky, Lasair opened his eyes to see Cosain duelling with Schnither, who was frothing and foaming at the mouth in unbridled frustration and rage. His red eyes were blazing and despite the obvious disadvantage posed by having only one arm, Schnither was proving a formidable opponent as he parried hard against Cosain’s onslaught. Several minutes passed, and Lasair could see that Schnither was tiring – the muscles in his one remaining arm were tight and burning, and he longed to be able to rest for just a moment. Eventually, as it became apparent that Schnither faced imminent destruction, the Dark Captain seemed to wrestle momentarily with his options before he instantaneously extended his wings like parachutes and allowed himself to be trailed backwards into the sky while Cosain and Lasair hurtled onwards with Araco Airlines flight 454. It briefly crossed Cosain’s mind to pursue Schnither, but he thought better of it, and descended immediately to Lasair’s side. The angel’s already pale skin was now almost translucent, and his earnest green eyes were growing dim. Cosain knelt beside the wounded warrior, and lifted him gently into his arms. He could feel the life ebbing out of Lasair’s limp body, and feared that the end may be near for his brave comrade.

“All is well, Lasair,” soothed Cosain. “You must not fret. You’re going to be alright.”

The Captain of the Host held tightly to Lasair to keep him from tumbling off the top of the aeroplane, and they waited for help to arrive. Suddenly, from below the aeroplane, came streaks of light that heralded the arrival of Solas, Dilis, Trean, Neam and Croga. The noble beings came to rest beside their Captain and knelt alongside Lasair, who was growing weaker with every passing minute. Lasair’s robes were stained bright red with blood, and the deep wound in his side still oozed, although the worst of the bleeding had now stopped.

“Lasair!” gasped Croga, his compassionate brown eyes filling with tears of disbelief and sorrow. “What happened?”

Lasair was barely conscious, and life receded from his body with every breath. Despite his best attempts to remain calm for Lasair’s sake, Cosain’s voice trembled as he spoke.

“Schnither,” he whispered, as if the very name pained him. “He attacked from behind, Lasair never saw him coming…” Cosain’s voice trailed off as he fought to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow down his perfect features.

“Let me help him!” Dilis cried. “My sword healed your wound without trace, Cosain.”

“I am afraid it is too late, Dilis,” whispered Cosain, and he looked up kindly at the youngest of the angels, knowing that he would do anything he could to save Lasair.

“I must
try!
” insisted Dilis, and he gently lifted Lasair’s tunic and set his sword broadside along the gaping wound. Despite his deteriorating condition, Lasair winced in pain, then opened his eyes and smiled at Dilis. “Thank you, brother,” he whispered weakly. Dilis looked at his sword, which was still glowing red, but to his horror he found that Lasair’s wound had not knitted together as it should have, and remained open and raw. Dilis looked questioningly at Cosain, who anticipated his thoughts.

“We must get him to the Celestial City,” said Cosain. “To the Rapha Fountain, it is his only hope.”

“But Captain,” said Neam, his face serious, “If we bring Lasair back to the Celestial City, what will become of Phoebe and her family? The Enemy is gone for now – but this flight is far from over. We cannot risk leaving the humans alone, they would never survive!”

“You are right, Neam, which is why we must split up.” Cosain’s suggestion sounded so implausible that the angelic warriors barely seemed to process it, until Croga spoke.

“Captain, it took all our combined strength and skill to ward off the Enemy just now. We were victorious – but only just. If we separate at this stage…” Croga’s voice trailed off and he furrowed his brow.

“Be that as it may, but we really have no choice,” Trean spoke up, and the other warriors realised that he spoke for all of them. They all knew that the strategy was a risky one, but leaving Lasair to bleed to death was not an option. “We will do as you command, Captain.”

“You are brave and noble warriors,” Cosain surveyed his team with pride. “Now, Dilis and Solas, you will carry Lasair back to the Celestial City and oversee his recovery. Trean, Neam, Croga – you will stay with me. We will accompany this flight for its duration. God speed, warriors.”

Dilis and Solas hoisted an unconscious Lasair up between them, his floppy arms slung around their strong shoulders. In an instant, the angels were airborne and heading back to the Celestial City, leaving Cosain, Trean, Neam and Croga astride Araco Airlines flight 454 as it made its way toward Ireland’s green shores and home.

Inside the afflicted aircraft, the wave of panic which had spread throughout the cabin had dispersed somewhat, and passengers seemed to settle considerably as the plane’s heaving and lurching began to subside. Flight attendants tentatively loosened their seat belts, and two of the bravest unclipped their buckles and gingerly made their way from the front to the back of the cabin, regaining their professionalism and checking in on passengers to ensure that everyone was alright. Both flight attendants were seasoned flyers with hundreds of flights under their belts, but Phoebe could see the trepidation that they were working so hard to hide written all over their ashen faces – yes, she could tell that
this
turbulence was like nothing either of these crew members had ever experienced before.

“Are you okay Honey?” Eva’s voice was barely audible across the aisle as the cabin had filled with a cacophony of voices all struggling for supremacy and demanding that their questions be answered – “What was
that?
” “What happened?” “Are we going down?” “Is it over?” “Don’t stand up, it’s not over!” “I think I’m gonna throw up!” Question after jumbled question assaulted Phoebe’s ears, and rather than shout over the din she smiled weakly at her mother and confirmed that she was alright.

“Look Phoebe!” Demetrius shouted suddenly, right in Phoebe’s ear. She jammed her finger in her ear and started to protest at his loud proximity, but was instantly silenced as her gaze shifted to where Demetrius was pointing. There, right outside the aeroplane, she could see Dilis and Solas bearing Lasair up between them, his tunic stained crimson red beneath his bronze breastplate and his head drooped, face pallid, eyes closed.

Despite everything she had witnessed during the last few days, the sight took Phoebe’s breath away and she gasped in spite of herself. “Lasair!” she gasped. “Whatever happened out there must have been hideous!”

“Look!” Demetrius pointed beyond the angelic trio, and Phoebe could see a small black gathering of demons, apparently in retreat. From this distance, they looked like an angry little storm cloud, billowing and undulating – had she not known what they were, she would have thought them almost graceful.

“That must be the tail end of those things,” said Phoebe, her eyes still wide with wonder. “I wonder where Cosa…” Her words trailed off as her sentence was answered and Cosain, Trean, Neam and Croga came into view through the plane’s small oval window. “Cosain!” she shouted, banging on the window with her clenched fists, and promptly received an elbow in the ribs from Demetrius. “
Ow!
” Phoebe protested. “What was that for?”

“Phoebe, you’ve got to keep your voice down! You and I have a
vague
idea what’s going on out there, but you must remember that no-one else does. If you start yelling random names out the window, people are gonna wonder what you’re up to!”

“Oh… yeah, I got a bit carried away I guess,” Phoebe shrugged, and returned her attention to Cosain. He was standing astride the aeroplanes extensive wing with Croga at his side. Phoebe glanced across the aisle and out through her parents’ window, and found Trean and Neam in similar formation on the other wing. She could see that the warriors were alert, on their guard, their eyes scanning the horizon. As she looked back through her own window, Phoebe’s eyes met Cosain’s as he turned to look at her. His golden eyes seemed to carry many cares in their depths, and she imagined that he must have much on his mind.

“Phoebe.”

“What is it Dem?” Phoebe asked, turning her head towards her friend but never diverting her eyes from Cosain.

“Huh?” Demetrius barely acknowledged her question.

“Phoebe.”

“
Dem
– what do you want?” Phoebe turned around in her seat, agitated. She wanted to see what Cosain and the other angels were doing. Why did Demetrius insist on calling her?

“Phoebs, I didn’t speak. You’re hearing things, Bird.”

Given the gravity of the situation in which they had just found themselves, Phoebe didn’t think that Demetrius would joke around, and one look at his serious expression told her that she was right.

“Phoebe, I’m out here.”

“Seriously Dem – you didn’t hear that?” Phoebe enquired, but Demetrius merely shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“Didn’t hear a thing Phoe…” Demetrius stopped mid sentence. The realisation of who the voice belonged to dawned on him at exactly the same moment that Phoebe caught on too.

“Cosain?” she whispered. “But how?”

“Phoebe, you need to listen to me.” Phoebe’s eyes locked on Cosain’s again, and she realised that despite the fact that his lips were not moving at all, he was communicating with her and she could hear him as plainly as if he had been standing beside her. Cosain needed her attention.

“Go on,” she murmured in hushed tones, and was immediately aware that she felt very self conscious talking to the window. She blushed a little, but forced her awkwardness inward and concentrated intently on Cosain.

“Phoebe, Schnither and his dark forces are intent on bringing this plane down again. We were favoured to have foreknowledge about their attack, and were able to mount a surprise counter attack, taking them unaware and routing all but a handful of them. Schnither fled with his life, as did Craven, Malva, Krake and a few other lesser demons. Transa, Gutbu, Naarli, Jitha and Gmobb were destroyed, and Braygor and Graygor did not make an appearance on this occasion – which is very peculiar.”

Phoebe’s head was reeling with information and names. “Every time we encounter these fiends, I imagine that there could be no more,” she said with incredulity in her voice. “But then there are just more and
more
of them, from out of the blue. It’s crazy!”

“For every demon you encounter or we slay, there are
hundreds
more waiting in the wings to take their place. You should never underestimate our Enemy,” said Cosain, his face grave. The Captain of the Host continued, “Phoebe, what I am telling you is that Abaddon the Defiler despatched some of his finest to take this plane down today. Many of those key players escaped and several others didn’t even show up – all of which suggested to me that they were hedging their bets, as it were. They have no intention of giving up so easily – they will regroup, formulate a plot, and hit hard. I fear this will not take long, we should expect them at any time. You saw Dilis and Solas carry Lasair away. He was badly wounded by Schnither – I am hopeful that he will survive if his brothers can get him quickly to the Rapha Fountain in the Celestial City, but I fear that Dilis and Solas will be unable to get back to us as quickly as I would have hoped, and Lasair will be out of action for a few days until his wound heals and he regains his strength.”

Cosain paused, and Phoebe glanced back at Demetrius, who was looking questioningly from her to Cosain. He obviously could not hear the unspoken words of Cosain, but had gathered enough from Phoebe’s responses to figure out that things had not gone as well as they could have.