Head in the clouds. Feet on the ground. Heart in the story. Christa Kinde is a cheerful homebody whose imagination takes her new places with every passing day. Making her home between misty mornings and brimming bookshelves in Southern California, she’s been writing for more than a decade, but the Threshold Series is her first foray into fiction. Learn about Christa’s books, Bible studies, short stories, weekdaily serials, and more at ChristaKinde.com.

You can find Part 1, HERE.
You can find Part 2, HERE.
You can find Part 3, HERE.
You can find Part 4, HERE.

Watchdog slowly sat up, scratching at the side of his face as he peered at his angelic visitor. “Haven’t you heard of Grafts?”

“No.” Koji crouched before the homeless man. “You are a Guardian.”

“I am.”

“And the lady?”

“Her name is under my hand.”

The young angel looked at the door Watchdog barred. “You are her guardian angel.”

“I am. But why are you here, Observer? Where’s your mentor?”

Koji hesitated. Where, indeed? “I have many mentors.”

“One mentor for one apprentice. That is the way of things.”

“Then I have no mentor.”

“First, it’s many; now, it’s none?” The Guardian took the hem of Koji’s sleeve between two grimy fingers. “You’re not newfound, for the Weavers have been of service. Do you have a name?”

“I have two. Maybe three. I am uncertain if ‘bright eyes’ counts.”

Watchdog cracked a smile. “Your hidden name is for God. Nicknames are for friends. If you’ll share your given name, I’ll tell you what I’m called in the heavenlies.”

“Ofir named me Koji.”

“And is Ofir that yellow-winged cherub?”

Koji turned in the direction his companion was looking. On the roof of the apartment building across the alley, Ofir stood out against the stars. “Indeed.”

When the young Protector lifted a hand, both Koji and Watchdog returned the gesture.

Koji searched for clearer words. “I am here to learn, and you are my assignment.”

Grizzled brows lifted. “You were Sent to me?”

“Not exactly, but I was told to seek traces of God’s hand in this place. You show His kindness and care to a lady who shows His kindness and care to you. It is interesting to watch.”

Watchdog found a more comfortable position and patted the plank floor at his side. While Koji accepted his invitation, the disguised angel said, “I’m usually beneath notice in these rags. People are so quick to look away, I may as well be invisible.”

“Your lady sees you.”

“She sees in part, but it has been enough.”

Enough for what? How long have you been friends with your lady? Does a beard tickle? When did you become a keeper of chickens? Koji’s questions were piling up. But the boy gave voice to the most urgent question. “May I know your heavenly name?”

The Guardian straightened, and his voice smoothed. “I am Ravel, mentor to none, apprentice to none. But by the mercy of God Most High, my joy is full.”

Koji tipped his head. “Why?”

Ravel scratched at his bristling jaw. “Reasons unseen and hopes invisible.”

I am unseen. To his lady, I would be invisible. But I do not think that is what he means. Koji tried scratching his own chin, but it didn’t clarify matters. “I am the eyes and ears of heaven. How can I observe the unseen and the invisible?”

“Practice. Details are one thing; impressions are another. The first takes a sharp eye, but the second needs a different kind of attention.”

“Attention?” Koji echoed. “To things unseen?”

“You will soon understand, Observer. Humans are complex and full of contradictions. The evidence you seek for your records may play out before your eyes, but God works beneath the surface. He touches hearts and souls.”

“But I cannot read a heart.”

“There is a human saying that some people wear their hearts on their sleeves.”

Koji checked the embroidered cuff of his tunic, and the Guardian chuckled. “There is a faithful saying. Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.”

Understanding dawned. “I will know the heart because words and deeds reveal it.”

“Intentions become actions. Feelings become emotions. Faith becomes sight,” Ravel said. “You will mark many intangible influences—pride, foolishness, trust, mercy, jealousy, guilt, embarrassment, loyalty, selfishness, happiness. And then there is sin, which yields its terrible fruit. But there is also faith, hope, and love.”

Koji’s thoughts reeled. Visible and invisible. They are tied together. To understand what I see, I must consider what I cannot see. The boy placed his hand on the rough cloth of Ravel’s coat. “You are a good mentor.”

Ravel flinched.

And Koji looked closer. “‘One mentor for one apprentice. That is the way of things.’ But you are Ravel, ‘mentor to none, apprentice to none.’” The young Observer whispered, “What am I not seeing?”

“Old wounds. Deep scars. Lingering regrets.” Ravel pushed back his overgrown hair, revealing his left ear, which was pierced by two heavy silver rings. “Everyone you meet will be more than they seem. And God plays a part in every one of their stories.”

The boy scooted closer to touch the rings, then the unkempt beard. “Tell me more?”

“It’s not my place to lecture Observers.”

“Not a lesson.” With outspread hands, Koji offered his full attention. “Let me bear witness to your story.”

Just before dawn, Ofir and Darda collected Koji, leaving the angelic guard dog to his solitary post.

“Did you see many things?” Darda quizzed as they retreated down the alley.

“Indeed.”

“Did you listen well?”

Koji nodded eagerly.

“Hey, hey, hey, now!” Ofir scooped up the youngster and swung him around. “Were you nervous for nothing?”

The blue-winged cherub arrived to carry Darda, but Koji had eyes for only Ofir. “How did you know?”

“Keen intuition.” The cherub spread his wings and climbed into the sunrise sky.

Does that not mean he observed my invisible feelings? Would Cherith let me take lessons from Ofir as well? “Can you teach me to sharpen my intuition?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, friend,” the older boy said with a wide smile. “Wasn’t so long ago I was a knock-kneed newbie. But you were brilliant. How did you single out that Graft so quick?”

“He was alone.”

“That’s all?”

Koji thought back. “That is why I watched him more closely. You know about Grafts?”

“Not much. Watchdog’s the only one I ever heard of. And tonight’s the first I ever saw him so scruffy. The day I found you, your new friend was armored, unfurled, and swinging that ax of his at the Fallen.”

I learned many things about Ravel, yet there is more. Moments I missed. Stories he saved for next time. The Guardian’s tale had stirred Koji’s heart, and empathy made it hard for the boy to figure out which feelings were his own and which belonged to the story. Somehow Koji knew that once he finished archiving Ravel’s history, his thoughts would be his own again. But they would be changed because he’d met an angel called Watchdog.

Darda led Koji into a small alcove near the top of the tower. Rapping his knuckles on the small desk that stood at its center, he announced, “Make yourself comfortable, bright eyes. This is your niche.”

“Mine?” Koji caressed smooth wood before sliding onto its bench. His feet didn’t quite reach the floor, so they swung in time with the giddy beating of his heart. “Thank you!”

Stocked drawers. Odd nooks. Surprising crannies. Koji was eager to get to know his work space, but Darda went on. “Paper is here. Ink will go here once you are ready for it. But beginners start with these.” He flipped open the lid on a box of slim chalks. “Prosper has you next, and he will make sure your rows are legible. But for now, I will help you organize your thoughts.”

Tapping the edge of the soft-hued colors, Koji asked, “May I use these?”

Darda chuckled. “Go for it, bright eyes! Every Observer’s fingers itch to create.”

Koji tipped his head. “Yours, too?”

The older boy wiggled his fingers, “Always. But my easel will be there. You are my first concern.”

“We could share,” Koji shyly offered.

No other persuasion was needed. Both angels were soon sprawled on the floor, heads bent over their artwork. The lesson touched on everything from recognizing pivotal moments to blending the powdery chalk to achieve a wider range of colors.

Koji was admiring Darda’s rooftop pigeon portraits when one of the other Observers rushed in. “Have you heard?”

“Doubtful. I am recently returned.”

“Cherith has gone to collect an Observer. He will return soon!”

Darda quickly sat up. “Another newfoundling? Or a mentor?”

“A mentor in need of an apprentice.” In awed tones, the other boy added, “And not just any potential mentor. Shimron is a First One!”

Next Month: Angel on High, Part Six: “First and Foremost”