Read Online The Hidden Deep by Christa J. Kinde - Free Book Online
Authors: Christa J. Kinde
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don’t hold still long enough.”
Milo chuckled at this, and Kester cast a bemused glance at the mailman before saying, “It would be like trying to number the stars.”
“Or snowflakes,” the mailman interjected.
“Or sparrows,” said Koji.
“Or my hairs,” Jude said happily. “I learned that in Sunday school this morning.”
“Very true,” Kester agreed.
Jude drew to a halt and frowned in consideration. “I do have a favorite chicken, though. Would you like to meet Maddie?”
“That would be acceptable.”
Milo stepped up and offered, “Would you like some help catching her, Jude? Since Maddie and I are old friends, I’d love to say hello.”
The boy’s smile grew sunny, for Milo had rescued the hen once before. His gratitude to the mailman knew no bounds. “That’d be real good!”
“I will help as well,” said Koji.
“Really? Okay! I know just where she’ll be right about now!” Without further ado, he trotted off, the Observer at his side. With a wave and a wink, Milo followed, leaving Kester in Prissie’s hands.
“Come on, I’ll show you Pomeroy’s Folly,” Prissie said, leading the serious-faced Worshiper to the gate. “It’s very popular. People come from all over to see it.”
“Most people are eager to hide their folly,” he remarked.
Prissie was about to explain about architecture when she caught the faint smile lurking on the Worshiper’s lips, and she realized that, in his way, Kester was joking.
They strolled past the barn, and the familiar bow of the bridge came into view, along with the red-haired angel and his young escort. Zeke hung precariously over the railing, and from the looks of things, Baird’s firm hold on the boy’s belt loops was the only thing keeping him from taking a plunge into the chilly water below. Prissie groaned. “Sorry, he’s always like this.”
“Yes, he is,” agreed Kester, whose gaze was fixed on his partner. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Baird was the mentor and Kester was the apprentice.
They leaned against the fence and watched Zeke’s latest adventure unfold, and in the calm silence that settled between them, Prissie remembered. “May I ask a question?”
“You may.”
Kester was easy to talk to, so Prissie didn’t mind bringing her odd questions to him. “I was just thinking … Koji says that angels don’t need to sleep.”
The Worshiper laced his fingers together. “That is true.”
“Then why does Tamaes sleep on top of the barn?”
Kester hummed, lifting his gaze toward the rooftops. “He is not sleeping. He is dreaming.”
“What’s the difference?”
He pondered for a moment before confessing, “I have never had to put our dreams into words before, but I will do my best to explain. We do not dream as you do, yet you are able to dream with us.” Noting Prissie’s deepening confusion, Kester tried again. “It may be simplest to think of it as an avenue of communication. Messengers are best equipped to open the way, but each of us is able to find respite by inhabiting dreams. They carry us to different places. Some bring us closer to home, and others bring us closer to those that are far away.”
“You dream about heaven?” Prissie asked, trying to make sense of Kester’s words.
The angel’s smile took on a wistful quality. “I do.”
“And Koji dreams about Ephron.”
Kester nodded. “Since Ephron was taken, Tamaes has been searching for him in dreams. He is coordinating the search with Harken’s assistance.”
“Why is Tamaes the one doing all the dreaming?” Prissie asked. “Isn’t Jedrick in charge of your team?”
“Our captain has his own concerns, and Tamaes volunteered. Jedrick entrusted the task to him.”
“But isn’t he supposed to be following
me
around all the time?”
Gazing off into the orchard, Kester replied, “Tamaes and Ephron were very close, and their affection for each other fosters a sense of remorse, as well as a sense of urgency.” Offering a
Milo chuckled at this, and Kester cast a bemused glance at the mailman before saying, “It would be like trying to number the stars.”
“Or snowflakes,” the mailman interjected.
“Or sparrows,” said Koji.
“Or my hairs,” Jude said happily. “I learned that in Sunday school this morning.”
“Very true,” Kester agreed.
Jude drew to a halt and frowned in consideration. “I do have a favorite chicken, though. Would you like to meet Maddie?”
“That would be acceptable.”
Milo stepped up and offered, “Would you like some help catching her, Jude? Since Maddie and I are old friends, I’d love to say hello.”
The boy’s smile grew sunny, for Milo had rescued the hen once before. His gratitude to the mailman knew no bounds. “That’d be real good!”
“I will help as well,” said Koji.
“Really? Okay! I know just where she’ll be right about now!” Without further ado, he trotted off, the Observer at his side. With a wave and a wink, Milo followed, leaving Kester in Prissie’s hands.
“Come on, I’ll show you Pomeroy’s Folly,” Prissie said, leading the serious-faced Worshiper to the gate. “It’s very popular. People come from all over to see it.”
“Most people are eager to hide their folly,” he remarked.
Prissie was about to explain about architecture when she caught the faint smile lurking on the Worshiper’s lips, and she realized that, in his way, Kester was joking.
They strolled past the barn, and the familiar bow of the bridge came into view, along with the red-haired angel and his young escort. Zeke hung precariously over the railing, and from the looks of things, Baird’s firm hold on the boy’s belt loops was the only thing keeping him from taking a plunge into the chilly water below. Prissie groaned. “Sorry, he’s always like this.”
“Yes, he is,” agreed Kester, whose gaze was fixed on his partner. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Baird was the mentor and Kester was the apprentice.
They leaned against the fence and watched Zeke’s latest adventure unfold, and in the calm silence that settled between them, Prissie remembered. “May I ask a question?”
“You may.”
Kester was easy to talk to, so Prissie didn’t mind bringing her odd questions to him. “I was just thinking … Koji says that angels don’t need to sleep.”
The Worshiper laced his fingers together. “That is true.”
“Then why does Tamaes sleep on top of the barn?”
Kester hummed, lifting his gaze toward the rooftops. “He is not sleeping. He is dreaming.”
“What’s the difference?”
He pondered for a moment before confessing, “I have never had to put our dreams into words before, but I will do my best to explain. We do not dream as you do, yet you are able to dream with us.” Noting Prissie’s deepening confusion, Kester tried again. “It may be simplest to think of it as an avenue of communication. Messengers are best equipped to open the way, but each of us is able to find respite by inhabiting dreams. They carry us to different places. Some bring us closer to home, and others bring us closer to those that are far away.”
“You dream about heaven?” Prissie asked, trying to make sense of Kester’s words.
The angel’s smile took on a wistful quality. “I do.”
“And Koji dreams about Ephron.”
Kester nodded. “Since Ephron was taken, Tamaes has been searching for him in dreams. He is coordinating the search with Harken’s assistance.”
“Why is Tamaes the one doing all the dreaming?” Prissie asked. “Isn’t Jedrick in charge of your team?”
“Our captain has his own concerns, and Tamaes volunteered. Jedrick entrusted the task to him.”
“But isn’t he supposed to be following
me
around all the time?”
Gazing off into the orchard, Kester replied, “Tamaes and Ephron were very close, and their affection for each other fosters a sense of remorse, as well as a sense of urgency.” Offering a
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