The Broken Window Read Online Free PDF Page B

boggled her mind. The skies were filled with varicolored stars and the brilliant flash of angels’ wings. It might have been beautiful if it hadn’t been a battle.
    The ranks of heavenly hosts clashed noisily with an enemy that was hard to make out in the darkness, but their shadowy forms were the stuff of nightmares. Broken wings creaked, foul voices bayed, and weapons slashed brutally. Prissie gripped the wall’s edge and whimpered.
    An angel standing guard at the entrance glanced her way, and when his silver eyes met her gaze, they widened. He quickly placed himself between her and the scenes of violence, dropping to one knee and lifting iridescent white wings to block her view of the battle beyond. “Hello, Prissie,” he said, his deep voice gentle.
    “You know me?”
    “I do,” he confirmed. “Do not be afraid, little daughter.”
    In complete contrast with his eyes and wings, the enormous angel’s skin was black as jet. His hair stood out in aseries of corkscrews around his head, and the hilts of two swords showed above his broad shoulders. Even though he had lowered himself to speak with her, he was nearly as tall as she, yet she wasn’t frightened. He almost seemed … familiar. Catching sight of the stitching on the edge of his collar, Prissie asked, “You’re a Guardian? Does that mean you know Tamaes and Taweel?”
    A slow smile spread across the angel’s face. “We serve together in the Hedge.”
    “Hedge?”
    “A gathering of Guardians,” he explained. “We are hadarim, a hedge of protection set in place by God.”
    “Does that mean …?”
    Padgett called to her then, and the silver-eyed warrior sighed. “That answer will come in the fullness of time. Go on, now.”
    She quickly returned to the Caretaker’s side, and time seemed to stretch; perhaps it stood still. All through the night, she watched the comings and goings of supernatural strangers. These were the Faithful. Heaven was their home, the Lord was their love, and her protection was part of their duty. A few others paused to greet her and allay her fears, and the more she met, the more she cared. She wanted to do something, and a growing sense of urgency built in her heart. But what
could
she do? Feeling increasingly helpless, Prissie asked, “Is it always like this?”
    “No.” Padgett pushed his hair behind one pointed ear, inadvertently leaving a bright smudge of blood across his cheek. Shaking his head, he repeated, “No, it’s not. The enemy has been gathering strength, and they attack with greater numbers each time they rise up.”
    “Why?”
    “Why what?” he patiently inquired.
    “Why are they attacking
here
?” she clarified.
    “I cannot say for certain,” the Caretaker replied as he brushed the hair out of the eyes of a suffering Protector. “This place has seen unrest for quite some time.”
    “Because of the Deep?”
    “Perhaps. However, it’s fair to say that the Fallen don’t need a
reason
to steal and destroy.”
    By the time he’d seen to the last of the wounded, Prissie’s emotions were in a weary tangle. The senselessness of the enemy’s attacks angered her, the pain of the wounded defenders sickened her, and the threat of further violence frightened her.
    Gently extracting the last roll of bandages from her hands, Padgett said, “Do not dwell on fear.”
    She looked up at him, and her lip trembled. “There’s so much more than I knew about.”
    “And there is far more than this,” he rejoined. “May that knowledge stir your heart to greater faith.”
    “But … if I forget?”
    “Then the memories will be stored up for you like treasures in heaven,” he replied.
    “R-really?” she mumbled, surprised when relief brought tears to her eyes.
    Padgett held her gaze and gravely declared, “Nothing is lost for those who are found.”
    “Are you sure?” she asked with a sniffle.
    “Quite sure,” he promised. “You do not hope in vain. When the time for partings has ended, your joy will