The Words of an Angel by Juliet Rose (world best books to read txt) 📕

The Words of an Angel

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

I couldn’t stop the world from spinning as I rushed stumbling through the darkened alleyways I called home. My head was reeling, and my stomach was turning over itself in horror of what I had just witnessed.

He cannot be gone, I told myself over and over, until my brain was tired of hearing the lies told by my heart . My brain was smart you see. It always knew the truth. I crashed against walls out of weariness, gripping them desperately for support. But their lifelessness helped me little, and I sank hopelessly to the ground. He was gone. Jack was gone. He had been taken by the Scabbers.

I knew there was nothing I could do, but my grief was too great to keep it bottled inside this time. I cried out blood curdling screeches as I sobbed hopelessly into my clenched hands.

They had finally won, and I had failed.

He would become one of them. Who knew what they would turn him into, a bird, a bear, a wolf. The possibilities were endless. And once he was changed, there was no hope of finding him again. He would have no memory of me. He would have no memory of himself. He would steal for them, kill for them, live for them.

And I could do nothing to stop it.

I curled up on the hard cobblestone, my body still wrenching with sobs. It seemed as though every inch of me was stained with grief; I could hardly bear it.

I couldn’t even think of sleeping, not now. I fought desperately to keep my eyes open, but the weight of the night was stronger. Within seconds, my solemn eyes fell victim to the night’s pull, and before long, I was enclosed in the darkness of sleep.


The voice came to me like a dream. "Clara," it called. The sound was as smooth as silk. "Do not forget your purpose. You have not failed him. Not yet." This voice rattled my brain and confused my senses. I could not tell if I was only dreaming, or if this voice indeed spoke truth. In the back of my head, a melody began to stir, faintly at first, but soon I heard it loud and clear.

Up in the sky where the animals grow,
There suffers a man who indeed you know,
His tale must go on,
His story is not spent,
So to preserve his life an angel was sent.
These words are familiar,
You know them to be true,
So pray, do what you came here to do.
This battle is fierce,
But hope is not lost,
You must find the words to pay the cost.

The voice left as quickly and mysteriously as it had come, and I sat in a chilling silence that begged never to be broken. I replayed the words of the melody over and over in my head, contemplating every possible meaning. The faint ring floated through my blurred mind, seeming to focus on the very last line, as if this was the only part of the riddle that would truly make a difference in the end.

You must find the words to pay the cost.

Sitting in the icy gloom of the darkness, I knew what I must do.

Now was not the time for giving up, now was the time when Jack needed me the most.

I would find him. I must find him.

And I would save him.

...........

The night was waving its final goodbyes as I reached the invisible entrance to the world that existed above. Most non-humans knew about this entrance, which might seem odd. But the fact is, no one in their right mind would journey up this way if they ever wanted to come down again. Step by careful step I grew closer to the top. I didn’t know what I expected to see. I had only heard about this cruel world in stories, stories that were meant to frighten children and bring nightmares to all who were foolish enough to hear. This was the land of dark happenings; nothing good was meant to exist here. Cautiously, I lifted my head above the soft clouds. My breath caught suddenly in my throat as I took in the view.

Towering before me stood a dark, stone castle, tall as the sun’s rays, but with stones black as pitch. The billowing clouds that congregated around its bottom held it firmly in their grasp. These clouds, however, were not white, but rather a sorrowful gray that bestowed sadness to even the happiest of men. I glanced higher to see five towers that protruded from the stone top, the largest one residing rightfully in the center. This was where Jack was being held. I was sure of it. The only thing that stood between me and the castle’s gates was a vast cluster of trees that formed a thick, overgrown forest. This darkened forest had its own set of stories. It was called Everwood. Very few had the courage to venture in, and even fewer had the drive to venture out. My spirits sank with the thought of having to pass through this way. For most, this path brought only despair. As I rose higher into the fog, a strong, sour smell that stank of falling ashes and burning flesh filled the air and awakened my senses. This smell was all too familiar. I had been forced to endure this dreadful, inexorable scent many times before.

It was the smell of death.

I stepped cautiously out into the mist that surrounded me, not knowing if I would be met with solid ground or empty air. To my surprise, it was solid. With a quick glance around to ensure my solitude, I ventured toward the forest.

It was now that the paranoia set in. Sounds seemed to come from every direction. The toss of a rock. The caw of a raven. The snap of a twig. A terrible sense of fear was slithering its way into my vulnerable mind. Things were following me. I quickened my pace.I am simply imagining things,

I told myself, there is nothing there. Keep moving forward.

But as I crept closer to the forest’s edge, the sounds became even more frightening. The air about me suddenly became colder, like an icy hand was squeezing the drops of warmth from my body, one by one. I was afraid. A twig snapped suddenly to my right, causing me to jump. I uttered a tiny squeal before quickly covering my mouth with my hand, remembering that guards could be anywhere.

Stay focused,

I thought desperately, think of your task. You cannot fail.

At last, I reached the opening edge of the wood. Menacing trees stared down at me as if I were their prey waiting to be devoured, and the longer I stood there, the more I began to think that that was exactly what I was. Their branches swayed eerily back and forth, but I was sure there was no breeze at all. With a final shove of courage and determination, I strode into the unwelcoming claws of the forest.

Inside, the air became thicker, and the light grew dimmer than it was before. I stepped cautiously over fallen logs and thorns, but still failed to escape their scratches. The farther I tread, the weaker the light became, and the thicker the forest grew. I struggled to move my feet without stumbling over things. My thin dress was torn and snagged and stained with the colors of the earth. I grabbed onto strange plants and prickly vines for support, but my breathing was becoming jagged, and my head could hardly remember which way was up. I searched for a tree to rest on, but they all seemed to be running away from my grasp. Or maybe I was running away from them… I couldn’t tell.

My mind was nearly gone when I heard the whispers, clear and crisp as the day itself.

"Come," they beckoned, "We will show you the way.” Startled, I glanced around me for the source. But I saw only shadows. Then again, the voice sang, “Clara, you are lost. We are here to help you. Follow us to find your precious Jack. He is still alive.” And for one, fleeting second I almost obeyed it. But I knew what these whispers were; these were the Voices of Everwood. Their callings were meant to confuse helpless travelers, to trick them, and to ultimately lead them to their deaths. I clamped my hands over my ears in an attempt to drown out their deceitful whispers.

I must not listen. I must stay focused.

I marched on.

As a distraction, I let my thoughts wander. And almost immediately, my thoughts drifted to Jack- a subject I was painfully trying to avoid. I wondered what they must be doing to him now. The Scabbers were never kind to their victims, and to think of the possibilities made me sick. I shut my eyes and grimaced at my thoughts, attempting to erase them from my memory. But I could not deny what I knew to be true. “My dear Jack,” I murmured, “please be safe. I am coming for you. Everything will be okay.” But I knew he couldn’t hear me. These words were uttered mostly for myself. And I believed them. No matter how true or how false that last sentence would prove to be.

By now I could see the end of the forest. I paused to stare in its direction, as if to be sure of its presence.

It can’t be,

I thought, this was too soon…

but then again who was I to argue? Ahead, I could see magnificent beams of light streaming in from a large break