Christa J. Kinde - Angels in Harmony

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ZONDERKIDZ

Angels in Harmony

Copyright 2013 by Christa Kinde

Illustrations 2013 Anna Earley

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Epub Edition November 2013: ISBN 978-0-310-73089-7

Zonderkidz, 3900 Sparks Drive, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

ISBN: 9780310730897

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Cover design and illustration: Anna Earley

Interior illustration: Anna Earley

Interior design: Ben Fetterley

Editor: Kim Childress

Starched and pressed. Ragged and distressed. Poised and polite. Bouncing and bright.

CONTENTS

Angels have always served in pairs, but Baird is sure there must be some mistake when Kester shows up on his door-step. The vividly energetic redhead couldnt have been more different from his genteel new apprentice. Yet their rocky beginnings give way to a unique balance, proving that friendship can flourish in the unlikeliest of places, given time, trust, and the Twelve Days of Christmas.

K ester Peverell, your name has come under my hand.

The pronouncement was almost nostalgic. Kester had heard the words many times before, always from one of the cherubim. They were the Protectors, warriors of heaven who served as Flight captains. Kester listened dutifully as Jedrick confirmed a transfer that had come without warning. He was being Sent.

Do you have any questions? Jedrick asked.

If Kesters nature had been any less restrained, he would have laughed in Jedricks face. Questions were multiplying with his disquiet, and none of his new captains answers brought any peace. After many long centuries serving as an apprentice under three different Worshipers, Kester had half-expected to be granted an apprentice of his own. Not a fourth mentor. One who hadnt even come to greet him.

My baggage? he asked.

Your previous mentor alerted us to your... unique situation. Jedrick folded powerful arms across his armored chest. Our Flight includes two Caretakers, and they made all the necessary arrangements.

Thank you, Captain, Kester replied. I look forward to meeting my teammates. And my mentor.

Jedrick winced, and his arms dropped to his sides. I apologize for Myron. How much have you been told about him?

Only that he is a First One. I am grateful to be assigned to one whose songs have spanned all of Time. I will surely benefit from his wisdom.

While that is true, I should prepare you. With a grim shake of his head, the green-winged Protector explained, One of our teammates an apprentice Observer has been missing for nearly a month. He and Myron were close. We all were.

Naturally. Kester searched Jedricks face and found traces of sorrow. Is there no hope of finding your comrade?

Our searches have come to nothing, and his mentor recently returned with a replacement.

A tragic loss. A pall of grief. What could God be thinking, asking this Flight to make another sudden change? Am I also a replacement?

Yes. Your predecessor was Sent heavenward, where he will take on an apprentice of his own.

Kester simply nodded. Who could argue against the wisdom of an all-wise God?

I will introduce you to everyone else in due course, Jedrick promised. But my first concern is Myron. To be fair, he prefers to be called by his second name Baird.

I see.

No, I do not think you do. Jedricks tone betrayed his affection for the angel to whom Kester had been assigned. Your new mentor has to be seen to be believed. And while he has been able to avoid me, he cannot ignore you.

Avoid? That sounded ominous. Kesters dark brows drew together. He is grieving?

Jedrick sighed. Once you see him, I hope you will understand. I can only assume Myron needs you.

Why?

Because you are here. With a tight smile, the Protector urged, Take care of him for us.

A couch. A rug. A coffee table. A floor lamp. The cupboards were barren, and the walls were beige. Kesters new apartment wasnt much, but it gave him the veneer of humanity. When an angel became a Graft, such things were necessary for blending in.

Are you ready? Jedrick asked. The warrior gestured to the front door. Myron lives directly below you. Usually, that means... less quiet than you have been enjoying.

Kesters gaze flitted briefly to the plain wood floor. How convenient. Giving his vest a tug and straightening his tie, the Worshiper reached for his suit coat, slipped it on, and buttoned it up. I am ready.

An echoing stairwell. An ordinary door. Kester glanced inquiringly at his captain, who didnt bother knocking. He ducked through, leaving Kester to follow. The apartment was garish. Every wall and door was painted a different color red, turquoise, orange, purple, green, yellow. And the place was even more sparsely furnished than his own. A mound of beanbag chairs was heaped in one corner. Kester also noted a drum set, several amps, three music stands, and a tangle of black cords strewn across the floor.

Myron... ?

Its Baird, muttered the wiry redhead who stood staring out the window. He wore faded jeans with ragged hems and a tie-dye tank top that exposed the pattern made by furled wings. The weary look he shot his captain turned blank when he spotted Kester.

Up until that moment, Kester had labored under the impression that his new mentor didnt want him. As the First Ones expression registered genuine shock, Kester revised that assumption. Baird hadnt even known he was coming.

Who... ? The redheads voice failed. Holding up a finger, he patted himself down, then checked the palms of both hands. Suddenly, he dove for a blue electric guitar in the corner. Turning it around, he stared in frank dismay at the back of the instrument, then lifted wide, hazel eyes. Kester?

Yes. Kester Peverell.

An injured look flitted across Bairds face, and he sank to his knees, slowly shaking his head. Captain, is this someones idea of a joke?

You know as much as I do, Myron. Their captain gestured to Kester. Since he is your apprentice, it would be customary....