“Have you been inside?” I look up at his face, his countenance shining like the sun.
“Perhaps.” His cheek flickers as if he were delightfully holding back the truth. “But that’s for me to know. There will be plenty of time for us to relish each moment once we arrive. But first…”
I nod. “But first—Armageddon.” A heavy sigh expels from me. “Marshall, how I wish we could all be redeemed.”
“Everyone has been sent an invitation.”
“I know,” I say it lower than a whisper. I also know that not all accept that invitation, for varying reasons. “How I pray there is a caveat, a great exception. How I hate that souls should suffer.”
His left brow raises a notch. “Should the guilty suffer? The answer is yes. Should the ignorant perish? Perhaps.”
“Perhaps.” Something quickens in my spirit. “But the Good Book says they will be judged by what they know. I’m hoping ignorance is a saving grace for a lot of souls. But whatever it may be, I trust Him.”
“Good.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “The question should now be, do you trusther?”
We walk past the fellow citizens of paradise, all of them turning their heads to look my way as if they sense that I don’t belong here. An argument I might want to include when presenting my case to my mother. But if my mother, the almighty (small A) Candace Messenger doesn’t release me back into the wild, I plan on taking things up with a higher court.
I glance up toward the citadel of God and take a deep breath. From His throne room the crystal river of life flows. It fills Ahava’s crystalline lake and every fount in heaven’s sphere.
We come upon the sandy shores of that very lake—crystal blue, wide as any ocean, and that’s when I see them a stone’s throw away and I run all the way to my mother, my father, and precious baby girl Sage.
“Sage!” She’s the one I call out to, my arms outstretched as I come upon her quickly. “I love you so much!” I shout as loud as my celestial voice will allow, for two reasons. One, I mean it with everything in me. And two, she typically doesn’t reciprocate the sentiment. In the least I can hear my own echo.
I lunge forward to wrap my arms around her and she glides to the left, leaving me to hug myself in the process.
Without hesitating, I move on to my father, and, of course, he reciprocates in a mighty way.
“Skyla.” He presses heated kisses on my head. “Oh, how I love you. I’m so sorry. Your mother was filling me in on what happened. I knew the day you married Gage Oliver trouble was afoot, but I couldn’t say a word. But what I didn’t expect was that this day would come—not so quickly, not like this.” He pulls back, the agony in his pale blue eyes is palpable.
My father looks like a youthful version of himself. That patch of rosy flesh just under his left eye is still present, his hair is thick and dark, and his skin smoother, less obstructed by time than I remember. And he’s solid as a brick wall, fit, tall as ever. He is every bit himself. Both my father and my mother (the celestial wonder) were burned alive by the Counts to further their wicked efforts. It bears repeating, it’s the only true way to kill a Celestra—lest someone like Dr. Oliver tries to resurrect one years later, aka Chloe Bishop, and all hell breaks loose on Earth.
“Skyla”—my mother pulls me to her, and I indulge in an embrace with the woman who bore me—“I’m sorry your sister had deceived so many. I’m afraid I tried to warn you about her agenda.” Candace Messenger is my twin in every way—or more to the point, I am hers. Same long golden curls, eyes the color of the lake beneath our feet—carbon copies of one another and yet nothing alike at all.
“You did warn me.” And Rory tried to warn me about my mother’s agenda as well. And I do believe they both had one. I just couldn’t decide who it was safer to side with. I suppose I know now. Too late to go back. I’m dead.
She offers a sullen nod because, of course, she heard my internal ramblings.
“Mother”—I shake my head at her—“why would you allow her to do this?”
“Skyla”—she says my name with a touch of disappointment—“with no soul to perpetuate your body, your organs would have shut down, not to mention your brain.”
“Please. You could have found a way to circumvent that. You allowed Dr. Oliver to bring Chloe back.”
“Because they never should have killed her in the first place. They were so thirsty to kill Celestra’s savior they didn’t realize what the ramifications could be. And it was your blood that brought her back to life, Skyla.”
“Logan or Ezrina could have broughtmeback. That is, if Rory didn’t swoop in and steal my body.”
“Not true. Logan, though powerful, isn’t powerful enough. Ezrina—yes, she has Chloe’s body—that of a Celestra.” The curve of a smile graces her lips as her eyes bear hard into mine as if she’s telling me something in secret. She offers a slight nod as if to affirm the fact.
I lean in. “So you’re telling me Ezrina is powerful now—as well as Chloe?” She lifts her brows. “That must mean Ezrina was always powerful.”
A light laugh strums from her. “And you have powerful powers of deduction.”
“That’s wonderful news.” I shake my head at her. “Now let’s get me back where I belong.”
Sage steps forward, her tiny frame coming up about as high as my mother’s thigh. With her long black hair, her bright cobalt eyes, and deep-welled dimples, she is her father’s daughter through and through.
“Don’t let her live, Your Grace.” She lends a cold smile my way as if vying for my demise, and I have no doubt she is. “It wouldn’t be fair to Rory or to me. And what about Grandpa Nathan? He would rather be alive, no doubt.”
