inside his head suddenly excruciating. There was something in there—something trying to get out. Something from another’s memory that wanted to be recognized.
Michael was before him, the archangel’s hand once again wrapped around Remy’s throat.
“Unless what?” the angel demanded. “What do you know? Has He communicated with you? Has He shared something?”
“I have to go into the city . . . to what’s left of the Golden City,” Remy managed to get out.
Michael pushed him back to the ground, looking at him in utter amazement. “Why on earth would you need to do that?” He let go of Remy’s throat, backing quickly away as he considered Remy’s words.
“It’s something I need to do,” Remy gasped, catching his breath.
“Why?” Michael demanded. He held his hand out again and it began to spark, and then smolder, and then burn. “Did God tell you to go to the city?”
The picture of an elderly gentleman in a dark suit standing with a tidal wave frozen behind him suddenly flashed through Remy’s mind.
“I . . . I don’t know. . . . I just know what I have to do.”
“As do I,” Michael said. “For the true voice tells me so.”
The archangel turned and stomped to his throne of bones, and just as he reached it, just as he was about to sit down, he spoke.
“The Almighty has whispered to me His wants,” he proclaimed as the Filthies eagerly listened.
“Don’t do this, Michael. Listen to me for once,” Remy begged.
The archangel lowered himself to his throne with a grunt. “He wants you all taken to the pit.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Can you hear me?
Linda flinched at the sound of Assiel’s voice.
“Did you hear that?” Ashley asked.
Linda nodded. Marlowe’s tail was wagging and the dog was looking around for the source, showing her that he, too, had heard the healer’s voice.
“Is he here?” she wondered aloud, looking about the bizarre landscape that continued to shift and change as they stood beside the massive tree. One moment they were standing in the vastness of some great desert, the next in what looked to be a field of wheat, and then amongst rocks and ice.
I’m here, Assiel confirmed for all to hear.
“What is this place?” Linda asked, growing dizzy from the swiftly changing environment.
You are at the center of Remy’s being, the angel answered. The place where what you would call his soul dwells.
“Why does it keep changing?” Ashley asked.
It reacts to your thoughts, to your moods. It’s attempting to find something that your minds can fully comprehend—a common ground.
“How do we get it to stop changing?” Linda had to close her eyes as a wave of nausea threatened to overtake her.
Calm your minds, Assiel instructed. Focus on a place of pure tranquility.
“Where should it be?” Ashley asked. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been to a place of pure tranquility.”
It doesn’t matter where it is, as long as it is a place where you were once safe and content.
Linda thought of the mountains of New Hampshire, the beaches of Cape Cod, and the rocky shores of Maine. All the places she had traveled to as a child. Places where she had felt secure and at peace.
“Cool,” she heard Ashley say, and she opened her eyes.
The world around them had calmed, transforming into something akin to a peaceful glade, with the sounds of birds chirping in the trees and the amazing smell of the woods after a summer rain.
“We did good,” Linda said, looking at Ashley, who nodded. “You, too,” she said, bending down to ruffle Marlowe’s black, velvet ears. The dog licked her face and wagged his thick, muscular tail.
“Now what, Assiel?” Linda asked.
“Bet it has something to do with this,” Ashley answered instead.
Linda turned to find Ashley staring at the large tree. The thick brown bark seemed to be flaking off, and a reddish liquid leaked from underneath to drip down the trunk, pooling at its base.
“It looks like it’s bleeding.” Ashley reached a tentative hand out, laying it flat against the bark—and suddenly stiffened, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Ashley!” Linda cried as Marlowe barked frantically.
She grabbed Ashley’s hand, and pulled it away from the tree. Her palm was stained with the bloodred sap.
“Are you all right?” Linda asked.
For a moment, Ashley appeared confused, as if she wasn’t sure where she was, but then she seemed to remember. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, pulling her hand from Linda’s grasp and staring at it.
“What is it?”
“This is him,” Ashley said, pointing to the tree. “This is Remy .