Seven Angels Short Story Bundle

By Jane Lebak

In this collection of shorts, enter the sometimes funny, sometimes serious world of angels. Meet an angel punished by having to sit on a rock for three years (it could have been worse, he says) and a guardian angel who knows he should never have gotten this assignment (because he’s a demon). Peek into angelic online support forums and find out what happens when God institutes a creation-wide self-esteem movement.

The short story bundle contains Damage, Winter Branches, Even A Stone, and both stories from the Hired Man duet. The bundle also contains an additional seven short pieces and a chapter from the upcoming Honest And For True.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Philangelus Press
• Release date: Apr 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942133056

Book preview

Seven Angels

Short Story Bundle

Jane Lebak

Philangelus Press

PhilangelusPress_P

Boston, MA USA

Other Jane Lebak titles:

The Wrong Enemy

Seven Archangels: An Arrow In Flight

Seven Archangels: Sacred Cups

Seven Archangels: Annihilation

Bulletproof Vestments

The Boys Upstairs

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Kindle ASIN: B00VIQLG8A

ISBN: 978-194233-0-56

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Copyright © 2015, Jane Lebak. All Rights Reserved.

By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author.

Table Of Contents

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Even A Stone

Rent An Angel

Mice In The Pantry (Gabriel)

Guardian Angels Online

How Angels Fledge

Rock For Christmas

Hired Man (Gabriel II)

Right Behind You

Inhuman Resources

Never Pray For Patience (Bucky)

The Gold Star Saints

Damage

Winter Branches

Acknowledgments

Seven Angels Short Story Bundle

by Jane Lebak

In this collection of shorts, enter the sometimes funny, sometimes serious world of angels. Meet an angel punished by having to sit on a rock for three years (it could have been worse, he says) and a guardian angel who knows he should never have gotten this assignment (because he’s a demon). Peek into angelic online support forums and find out what happens when God institutes a creation-wide self-esteem movement.

The short story bundle contains Damage, Winter Branches, Even A Stone, and both stories from the Hired Man duet. The bundle also contains an additional seven short pieces and a chapter from the upcoming Honest And For True.

When Dragons, Knights And Angels Magazine first published this, the editor mentioned it even had a positive dragons-rights message. That’s a lovely legacy to leave behind, don’t you think? That I used my literary prowess to advocate for dragons’ rights? I’m glad you agree. Many thanks to Ivy Reisner for introducing me to the quote that serves as the germ of the story.

Even A Stone

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Sir Charles Hallwyn was riding at the head of his retinue when he spotted it, an arrow-flight away across the wasteland: an angel sitting on a rock.

Heart pounding, he halted the others. What could it want? Half-forgotten stories swirled through his head. Why did angels usually appear? Was he being assigned a great task?

Knowing knights weren’t supposed to run away, he rode toward it instead, sword sheathed. The brush crackled as the horse pushed through, and a cloud of dust followed their passage. Perhaps that was why his mouth had gone dry.

The angel wore a linen robe and a gold cape that covered most of the stone on which he sat, and he carried his wings tucked up so they touched neither the ground nor the rock. Standing he would have towered a head taller than Sir Charles (whose broad shoulders and short stature had earned him the school nickname whiskey bottle). At full extent the angel’s wings would have spread to twice his height, and the feathers glistened silvery blue in the straight noontime sunlight.

The angel smiled. Thanks for stopping. Not many pass this way.

Shaking inside, the knight dismounted and removed his helmet, then brushed his sweat-drenched brown curls from his eyes. He bowed as well as he could manage wearing leather mail, and his sword clanked against its scabbard as he genuflected.

Please don’t. The angel wore a no-nonsense expression in his brown eyes. The only one to worship is God, and anyhow, I simply wanted to talk.

Sir Charles took in the angel’s slender features, his relaxed poise, the way the breeze lifted the straight ends of the angel’s black hair. The air around the angel carried the scent of tea leaves, leaving him dizzy. Do you bear a message for me?

The angel shrugged. Nothing specific. Where are you going?

Sir Charles gestured toward the foothills twenty miles away.

The angel sat taller. Dragons live there. You’re planning to fight one?

Sir Charles chuckled. I’m not that skilled a knight. I raise dragons.

The angel cocked his head. Now that’s a reversal! I’m glad some of your kind can see them as intelligent and beautiful creatures. It saddens me how often knights venture out to slaughter one, and how many of them either fail to return or else parade home dragging their victims’ severed heads as if homicide were a mark of glory.

Sir Charles shivered. I’d be among those who didn’t return. He paused. If it isn’t untoward—

Why is an angel sitting on a stone in the middle of the wilderness? The angel regarded himself ruefully. Almost three years ago, a friend of mine asked me to accompany her before the Throne of God to pray for the soul in her care. The man’s soul was an absolute abyss as far as grace was concerned.

Without understanding why, Sir Charles perceived a series of images: an angel with red-barred black wings and purple eyes, sadness etching her heart-shaped face as she knelt before God. A blond-haired man with calculating eyes. Fire. Deep dread.

We were praying for the soul’s conversion, and when my friend begged for some hope, God said no one is without hope. And I, the angel said, his gaze lowering, "said Sure, there’s a Japanese proverb ‘Ishi no ue ni mo sannen.’" The angel shook his head. Even a stone will warm up if you sit on it for three years.

Sir Charles flinched.

The angel knit his hands. I succeeded in making my friend burst into tears, and God sent me here, showed me this stone, and ordered me to find out if the proverb was true.

Sir Charles said, That’s awful.

I agree. The angel’s wings drooped until the primary feathers brushed the ground. I asked my friend’s forgiveness, and she gave it, and I’ve spent most of the past three years praying for her charge. The angel looked up with a renewed brightness. The man has started responding to God’s grace, too.

I meant it was a shame you got reprimanded.

The angel tilted his head. Is God unjust?

No. But—

And doesn’t Job 4:18 say even God’s messengers aren’t perfect before him? The angel opened his hands. Well, there you have it.

Sir Charles folded his arms.

It’s not as uncomfortable a stone as it could be. The angel shifted his cloak so he could see it. I’ve gotten familiar with it. It’s a porphyritic extrusive igneous rock with lapilli-sized pyroclasts.

What Sir Charles could see of the rock looked uniformly grey, although shortly he noticed crystalline flecks. Have you met with success in warming the rock?

I’m not sure. The angel pulled his cloak close again. There’s a theory about being unable to measure something without simultaneously changing the thing you’re measuring. Once I stand to see if it’s warm, that could dissipate any warmth that might have collected. The angel looked Sir Charles in the eye. Before you say it, I’m not unaware that I have an angelic body, hence no body temperature, hence no likelihood of warming the rock. But that’s beside the point. God told me to sit here, and I’m doing it.

Sir Charles rubbed his horse’s muzzle, and the animal head-butted him. You aren’t bitter, but I would assume you find it boring.

The angel leaned back to gaze at the marshmallow clouds dotting the sky. Somewhat, but I can pray, and there’s adoration. There’s cloud watching and stargazing, and my friends visit from time to time. I can watch the dragons circling on the updrafts in the mornings on their way to Flintook.

The angel’s voice had a smoothness to it. Clearly there was nothing to fear from him other than sarcastic remarks, for which God had already proven He’d punish the creature. No problem here. Sir Charles seated himself on the dusty ground. May I inquire as to your name?

The angel’s eyes flashed, and he raised his wings. My name is beyond understanding.

Sir Charles lowered his head and gestured with one hand as if bowing. Greetings, Beyond Understanding. I’m Sir Charles Hallwyn.

The angel burst out laughing. No, I mean... Didn’t you ever read the story of Samson’s birth? Jacob wrestling with the angel? ...any of the Bible?

When Sir Charles shook his head, the angel drummed his fingers against his leg. We’re not supposed to tell you unless it’s really important. Humans tend to mangle our names anyhow because they’re mysterious. Beyond understanding. You know. Big.

Sir Charles said, My full name is Charlesmanworth Fallinbury Temperance Hallwyn, and I fail to understand it as well.

The angel snickered, his eyes throwing off gold sparks. You’ve got me there. But it’s to prevent idolatry. Even if I trust you not to worship me, you might go home and tell your wife, or your kids, and in a century I might show up in London to find a shrine to the Rock-Sitting Angel What’s-His- Name, and then I might have to pull out my sword and burn down London. The angel bit his lip. Satan finds things like that amusing. So no name for me.

But you do have a name?

"Hey, You! just lacks that distinctive ring. The angel rested his elbows on his knees. Enough about me. Talk about your dragons."

Sir Charles glanced over his shoulder at his retinue. Once a season, I journey to dragon territory to seek eggs.

The knight imagined how the angel would view his