Free Covenant by Maria Rachel Hooley Page B

things and why they don’t get
to see the big picture most of the time. You don’t trust a Da Vinci
to just anybody, if you get my drift.
    I look at the statue for a
moment longer, taking in the small wings and vacant eyes, wondering
what the sculptor was thinking in creating this fantasy. Is it the
wings that bring humans comfort, or the feeling that angels have
powers they will never possess?
    I close my eyes and think of
Elizabeth, and even in my memory, I feel her reaching for me. It’s
like I’m the only one who can save her. Trouble is, I don’t know
what I’m supposed to be saving her from, and why her salvation
depends on me. A million whys that I never get answers to. Until
now. Jayzee is bound to be around here somewhere. I just have to
find her.
    As I look around, I realize
this probably isn’t the best day to be looking for someone in a
cemetery. There’s at least two grave-side ceremonies going on at
different ends of a very large area, and while I am looking to the
inner guide that will tell me which way to go, I feel myself tugged
in both directions, which is no help at all. And the really
ridiculous thing is that no one appears to be needing any
sojourners. Whomever is being buried is far past that point, so why
is my internal sensory system acting up?
    In fact, this whole place
seems familiar, but for the life of me, I can’t fathom why. Beyond
all the statues and graves, there is a small house nestled at the
back of the cemetery. Of course, there’s this old wooden bridge
that spans a river, and even before I realize it, I’m already
heading that way. It’s pretty safe to say something is luring me
toward it, but I don’t think it is a connection to the other
angels. It’s something else entirely, something I’m not sure I can
name. Stepping forward, I hear the sound of a pastor giving a
eulogy at one of the services. Looking back, I see there are about
twenty people standing before the open grave, and although I allow
my attention to wander that way, I feel the chaos within the humans
gathered there. It’s normal, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t
affect me. It shouldn’t, but it does. On the contrary, it almost
bowls me over, and I reach to clutch the rail of the bridge as I
struggle to shield from misery I am not set up to
handle.
    Despite the shield, the pain
keeps coming like spikes of agony, and I don’t realize I’m slipping
to my knees until I drop hard on the rough planks.
    Block it, I tell myself. You know
how to do that. Yet it would appear
knowing and doing are two different things, and right now the
“knowing” is useless. The pain sucks at me, draining my energy, and
I feel lost as my form sinks lower and lower until I lie on the
hard wood, unable to do anything except curl up into a ball like a
human infant.
    * * *
    “ Hey, you all
right?”
    The voice is distant, and at
first I think it’s coming from a human. I start to open my eyes,
bracing for the onslaught of pain, but only the bright sunlight
haloing another angel’s face greets me.
    “ What happened?” he asks,
offering me a hand up.
    I blink and try to sense
whether I know him. Probably not. I do pick up on a sort of bond,
but it is distant, suggesting perhaps we have worked in the same
areas but it has not been a close bond, not like that shared with
Evan or Celia; I feel his spirit is much older than
mine.
    “ I don’t know,” I finally
manage, sitting up. “One moment everything was fine; the next,
there was this overwhelming sense of loss.”
    “ You’re in a cemetery,” he
says, offering his hand. Once upright, I realize just how much
taller my current corporeal form is than his. He comes to my
shoulders, and he appears as an old man with a receding silver
hairline. While his spirit is old, it’s hardly that old. Likely,
he’s just using that form because it is currently the most
useful.
    “ Yeah, I guess I am,” I
say, looking around. Of course, all the people have gone, so that
pretty much