Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

six wings moving in rapid succession, keeping him aloft. As the light dimmed, the wing feathers turned a brilliant gold, turquoise, and deep lapis blue. Seeing him clearly, the robed creature gently landed on the shadowy ground beside me. My breath caught in my throat—I froze, partially from fear and partially from awe.

“Behold the glory of the Seraphim Reuwel, the giver of unity, harmony, and the one who bestows revelation to mortal man.” The angel gazed intently at me. “Arland Loveless, son of Norman, heed my words.”

My encounter with Phoenix, as amazing as it had been, didn’t compare—this was spectacular. Excitement overcame my fear, and I answered, “I’m here.” I paused. “Are you a fallen angel like Phoenix?”

“No, I find grace in the eyes of my Lord. I bring the seer secret knowledge.” With that, he spread the feathers of his wings, to reveal dozens of eyes hidden under the colorful plumage. “I see even into the hearts of men.”

I still didn’t know why he had appeared because simply saying he brought revelation meant nothing to me. “Okay.” I braced myself. “Lay it on me.” I closed my eyes.

Nothing happened. I opened them and scanned the field. The shadow we had been under had turned light and the rest of the world had gone back to night. I started to say something, but Reuwel lifted his index finger to his lips, bidding me to stay quiet. In a few seconds, Rose came running across the meadow toward the commune. She barely missed bowling me over, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“She almost ran over me. Couldn’t she see me?” I asked.

“No. I have hidden our presence from man and spirit. None know we are here.” The angel reached into his robe and withdrew what looked like a pocket watch on a chain. “Seer, I brought you a gift made by my own hand. I call it an acrocrometer, it will aid you in foretelling the future.”

He placed the device in my hand. For what it was worth, the thing looked to be a large round locket, the kind with a metal cover that pops open. Sure enough, I pressed on the stem, and the cover popped open. To my surprise, the gadget underneath only had one hand. The dial looked similar to a watch, but symbols lined the circumference. Upon seeing the clock-like face, the chimes of the Carnival tower resonated through my ears. I handed it back to the angel. I had enough of clocks for one evening, and I didn’t want anything to remind me of my miserable mistake.

Reuwel pushed it back toward me, and with the thing still in my hand, he closed his large fingers over mine. His touch was stimulating, not tingly and passionate, but exciting and captivating. I nodded and gave him the best smile I could manage before stuffing the gadget in my pocket. He walked toward the van. I followed, careful to stay close to him.

A black, late model Ford, Galaxy 500, maybe a 1968 or 69, with its lights turned off, pulled up behind the van. We silently stepped around to see behind it. There Jimmy was getting dressed, zipping up his jeans and tightening his belt. The sheriff got out of the black Ford and went to stand behind the van next to Jimmy.

“What did you find out so far?” The Sheriff asked.

“Not much. Flower is really old and Arland had a dream,” Jimmy said.

Again I started to ask a question and this time the Angel touched my lips sealing them shut. I mean, like…Superglued shut. My eyes flew wide open, and the angel touched them again. They unsealed and opened as before. I wasn’t going to say anything else.

I listened quietly while Jimmy told the Sheriff about my dream.

“Fools! Not one of them gave a moment’s thought about the bodies being the people in the clinic.” The Sheriff barked.

Jimmy asked, “And, what about the star?”

“It is the talisman from The Book of Uriel.” The Sheriff jerked his neck in an awkward position and snapped it back into place. He lifted his head and spoke to the sky, “Regnum Dei est adest. Qui tenet, obtinebit. Et tactus a tactu est Deo simile. Quis loquetur potentias, quis est qui vincit exspectantes. Adolebitque alas suas ad futurum.”

“Hey, Boss. What kind of shit are you talking? Speak English.”

“That was not uttered to gratify your understanding. There is no reason you will ever need to remember those words. It is a prophecy, made by the angel Reuwel, the seer of secrets. It foretells an event for angelic kind.”

“Great. Whatever.” Jimmy appeared less than impressed. “So, am I supposed to get this male-tally thing for Calypso?”

“Yes, mortal.” The sheriff lit a cigarette and blew smoke into Jimmy’s face. “Calypso desires it. She demands you get it for her.” He leaned closer to Jimmy, looking deep into his eyes—maybe even into his soul.

“Okay,” Jimmy answered, “but how will I know what it looks like?”

“You will know by the inscription it bears, Angelus Vero Benedicam. Repeat it after me.” The Sheriff sounded anxious and put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.

The boy rolled his neck. “I got it, Angelus Vero Benedicam. Geeze like that’s hard.”

“Do not fail me, mortal.”

“Okay, but where do I start?” Jimmy asked.

“The legend says the healer’s name will lead a child of Zerachiel to it.”

“Who the hell is Zerachiel?”

“She is one born of angel kind. An heir of Raphael—the Archangel of healing.” The Sheriff gave him a cockeyed glance, and an open-mouthed smiled. I could have sworn I saw a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth like Phoenix had. He leaned back on the car; pulled the last drag from his cigarette; and mashed it out on the fender of the Ford.

“Damn, what does a blessed angel have to do with anything? They are prevented from