Angels on Guard by Christa J. Kinde

Author:Christa J. Kinde
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2014-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

An angelic chorus rang through the rafters, one refrain upon the next, thanking God for strong arms, true hearts, and healing hands. The yahavim of Abner’s flock sat in long lines upon the overhead beams, watching alertly as their shepherd tended to the injured — binding wounds, easing pain, and renewing strength. A few of them hummed along, adding their tiny voices in a soft descant. Song came naturally to all in the hierarchies of heaven.

Abner moved along the row to an angel who’d insisted on sitting closest to the archway. “You’re dim in more ways than one, Guardian,” the Caretaker said, gently unwrapping the sodden bandages from around Taweel’s forehead. “How many calls did you ignore before Othniel pried you from the battle lines?”

“I lost count.”

Abner cupped the big warrior’s face with slender hands, forcing his distraught teammate to look into his eyes. Brow quirking, Abner said, “And you’ll lose consciousness.”

Taweel’s expression fell into a state of dismay. “No! Please . . . !”

Shaking his head, the Caretaker firmly said, “This too is a mercy from God’s own hand. Sleep, friend.” Taweel sagged, and with Othniel’s help, Abner lowered him onto the straw. “Sleep, and wake to joy.”

A new verse was added to the song, and the Messengers picked up the refrain, singing of friendship and faithfulness, trust and tears.

When he finally noticed Milo hovering nearby, Abner remarked, “This loft is convenient. Near the lines, yet hidden within a Hedge. We’ll use this place again, should the need arise. As it often does.”

“I’m sure the Pomeroys would be delighted to lend their support.”

Abner hummed distractedly, and his gaze cut toward the barn doors, which burst open. “Speaking of Pomeroys. . . .”

“Uh-oh,” Milo murmured, hurrying to the edge of the loft. “They’re headed our way.”

The angels’ song dropped away as every ear tuned in to the chatter of young voices.

“You first, Prissie,” urged Neil.

“Can’t reach.”

“I’ll boost ya! Go on. I’m right behind you.”

Milo tensed. “Where are their Guardians?”

“Neil’s were Sent elsewhere,” Abner replied calmly. “Perhaps you’d like to step in until Tamaes recalls his proper place?”

From the hole in the floor of the loft, Neil’s voice chanted. “Up, up, up.”

“Up, up, up,” came Prissie’s sing-song echo.

With a curt nod, Milo leapt to the ground floor and rushed to follow the youngsters, arms ready, wings outstretched. The Messenger called, “Do you know what’s going on, Abner?”

“I do.” The Caretaker gravely watched the siblings scamper into the sweet-smelling straw. “For I am Sent.”

“Where?”

“To Tamaes.”

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