blurting, “Will you freak out if I hug you?”
Prissie blushed and awkwardly said, “It’s okay, I guess.”
Taking her at her word, the Worshiper stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, giving her a friendly squeeze. “Thank you for today, Prissie,” he said seriously. “I thank you, and I thank God for this day of rest. Your family has been
such
an encouragement.”
“R-really?”
“Totally,” he said with feeling.
Searching her mind for some kind of response, she lamely offered, “I didn’t know angels needed encouragement.”
Baird released her, stepping back. “Even an angel’s wings grow heavy once in a while,” he confessed with a little half-smile. Glancing at Kester, he brightly announced, “Tonight, I’m gonna write a song!”
“That is good.”
“Nope. It’s
awesome
!” his mentor countered, then turned to Milo. “Race you to the car, fly-boy!”
The two took off, Harken following much more sedately, leaving Prissie and Kester on the steps. With a gentle smile,the tall Worshiper took her hand in both of his. “It has been many months since Baird composed something,” he revealed. “Indeed, it has been a considerable source of concern on my part.
Thank you
for extending your generosity to one whose need was great.”
“But I didn’t
know
Baird needed anything.”
“God knows what we do not,” Kester said with confidence. “His plans encompass yours, and His purposes are always good. Have faith in that, Prissie.”
6
THE
LOST
LAMB
G reen light exploded into rainbows as Jedrick burst through the ring of stones set into the floor of Shimron’s tower. The old Observer glanced up and serenely smiled at his captain before turning his attention back to his task. The big warrior strolled across the chamber to peer over his shoulder. “I know your subject matter very well,” Jedrick remarked.
“The Protector should know that which he protects,” the Observer said, adding a daub of color before sitting back to consider the effect. The painting alongside rows of neat text was a close-up of a smooth stone pillar topped by an ornate capital involving carved netting, pomegranates, and leaves.
“A valid point,” his captain replied. “Still, I am near those columns daily without paying much attention. Seeing one ofthem upon your page makes me appreciate them anew. They are well made.”
“Their craftsman has had time enough to hone his skills. The gate is a testament to his patience.”
“Yes,” Jedrick agreed with a solemn expression. “If there is one thing Aril has in abundance, it is time.”
“Have you ever been here?” Prissie asked Koji as they stepped off the school bus.
“Indeed,” he replied. “However, I have never been underground. I am very curious.”
Today’s field trip had been planned by their science teacher, who’d just wrapped up a unit on caves. “I’ve been through them a few times. We take field trips here
every
year.”
Sunderland State Park occupied a large section of the northeast corner of Milton County, and the sprawling acreage included a river, hiking trails, wildflower meadows, a deer garden, orienteering courses, picnic pavilions, camping sites, and a learning center, but its main attraction was the vast network of caves. Miles of underground passages had been mapped, and spelunkers came from all over the area to explore the network of interconnecting chambers.
“Every year since you were little?” Koji asked.
“Yes. Nature walks, a class on bat colonies, bird watching, things like that.”
“Then you have met the rangers?” he pressed, as they filed through the entrance with the rest of their classmates.
“I suppose,” she replied. “I’m not sure about the volunteers, but I remember an old man in khaki shorts. He’s always here. He’s usually the one who teaches the classes.”
There was a sparkle in Koji’s eyes. “Do you remember that old man’s name?”
“I always just called him
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley