“Marshall!” I wrap my arms around him tight while bubbling with laughter. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone. I thought maybe I’d see the Master or the Son, and if I did, I was terrified I’d have to stay.” I pull back and shake my head at him. “I’m not staying, Marshall. They can’t make me. I’m not done on Earth. Where’s my mother? Doesn’t she care? What in the name of all things good and right is she thinking letting Rory and Gage get away with murder—namely mine?”
Marshall’s brows pinch, but that seductive smile he’s known for is staunchly glued in place. Marshall isn’t an angel, he’s another created being entirely known as a Sector. I first met Marshall when he came to Earth and played the part of my math teacher at West Paragon High.
Believe me, this tall stack of muscular celestial glory didn’t go unnoticed. And there was a brief moment of time where Marshall let down his guard and bedded every woman that was open to the idea. He’s since cooled his celestial jets and claims to be waiting for me to fulfill the rest of his randy needs. But, seeing that I’m currently down one corporal frame, he might have to wait forever on that one.
“Ms. Messenger.” He tips his head my way. Marshall has never been one to use my proper name, which technically would be Mrs. Oliver. I think in his own way he enjoys referencing me by my older, perhaps purer moniker. That and the fact he has zero respect for my ex-husband Gage. Not that I’m about to give Gage an iota of respect any time soon either. But seeing that I’m engaged to marry Logan in just a few weeks, I will definitely be Mrs. Oliver once again.
“Oh, I love you more than words can say, Marshall.” I pull back and take a moment to inspect the gorgeous terrain as we step fully out of the jasper cave of the Transport.
The Elysian Field is just to our left, verdant and shimmering, and each blade of neatly trimmed grass is a shade of bright lime. I take a moment to watch the newly arriving souls run with joyous haste as loved ones are reunited on the grassy field.
“Would you look at that?” I say, holding him tightly with an arm still cinched around him. A part of me is afraid Marshall will up and fly away, and believe me, he’s more than capable. “Speaking of reuniting with loved ones, where is my father? Where is my sweet angel, Sage?”
Marshall’s expression sours at the thought of my brassy daughter. Sage died in utero. It turns out, I was pregnant with triplets for a time, but she didn’t develop very far and was reabsorbed into my body. The boys thankfully made it. But let’s just say my relationship with Sage in the spirit world, though scant with time, has been more than a little rough around the edges. When Gage turned into the monster of Paragon, she happily sided with him and all of his wicked ways. The worse the decisions he made for my people, the louder she seemed to cheer him on. It’s safe to say Sage is a daddy’s girl through and through.
Marshall lets out a sigh that forces my body to move with his, and those feel-good vibrations—vibratronics—travel though him and straight through me at lightning speeds. Marshall has always had the ability to emit a pleasant hum by way of using his body as a conduit. And it has brought me hours and hours of pleasure—quite literally.
“I’m afraid Sage is most likely unavailable,” he rumbles. “Your father, however, has been detained by your mother. I suggest we head to the crystal lake to see them both.”
We begin floating that way at once, and I gasp as I watch my body—my spiritual body, that is—seamlessly glide over the ground.
“Marshall, I don’t think I can ever get used to this.”
“Don’t. I’m not all that thrilled to see you here.”
“Gage—he took my life. So if you’re looking for someone to blame—”
“I was able to witness the scene after the fact. Suffice it to say, I have words to share with your mother. I take it you weren’t wearing the protective hedge? Thought it clashed with your outfit, did you? Or perhaps you gifted it to one of your ardent enemies as you’re prone to do out of a true and generous heart.”
“Watch it, Dudley. I am this close to losing it.” I glance behind me, hoping to find a glimpse of my daughter, but I nearly fall over when I spot a giant orb in the sky with a cube within it—the entire monstrosity is somewhat translucent, the size of a small planet. “Oh my… Marshall? What’s happening?”
And then, as if a veil were lifted, I remember all I had learned, and still I shake my head in disbelief.
“The New Jerusalem,” I whisper.
“Yes.” He takes a deep breath, a twinge of pride buried in his tone. “It’s a work in progress, and it will be until it’s time for its use.”
“Is it almost time?” The words come out lower than a whisper. I’ve read the Word enough to understand that during the millennial reign of the bride of Christ, saints past and present will live inside this seemingly fabled city. “But it’s no fable, is it?” I ask Marshall, knowing full well he can hear my thoughts here.
“Skyla”—he takes up my hand as we walk a few cautious steps in its direction—“it is certainly not fabled. No one knows the hour or the day.”
“Not even the Son,” I say.
“It was true at the time of the writing of the sacred scrolls, but I’m uncertain as to whether He is apprised of that now. Nevertheless, they’ve brought it home to work on it—and to give the people here a glimpse of what’s to come. And by ‘glimpse’, I mean that in the literal sense. No one is allowed inside until after the marriage supper of the lamb. It’s coming. Though it tarries, wait for it. And this”—he motions to the awesome sight before us—“will kick off a new era for the redeemed. Though they will reign on Earth with the King, they will reside in the holy city, coming and going as they please.”
“No one from Earth will be able to enter.” I marvel at the unique opacity of it. “Marshall, I know that Iknowthe time is near. The Word says we won’t know the hour or the day, but the Son did say to learn a lesson from the fig tree. As soon as its twigs grow tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near.” I turn to face him. “The proverbial summer is near, Marshall. I can feel it. I need to get back to Paragon. My people need me more than ever.”
He glances just past me before his crimson eyes meet with mine once again.
“You’ll return if it’s decided, Ms. Messenger. I’m afraid it’s not your decision, or mine.”
“The Master cares about my heart’s desire, Marshall. My body isn’t dead. It was simply dead long enough to evict me. Rory is there keeping it in prime condition. Besides, we both know my work is not through.” I give his hand a quick squeeze. “We’renot through.”
A guttural laugh comes from him. “You are wise to press on my egotistical standing. I will vie for you—this is common knowledge. But it’s not me you’ll need on your side.”
“Then let’s go to her, Marshall. And I’ll do my best to persuade her to restore me—to get her on my side.” I glance back at the enormous orb in the sky. “How big is it?”
“Fourteen hundred miles by fourteen hundred miles. Plenty of room for every one of the redeemed from the beginning to the end.”
