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.
You can find Part 5, HERE.
You can find Part 6, HERE.
You can find Part 7, HERE.

Cherith’s expression buckled into bewilderment. “What would you know about that, young one?”

Sweet things. Small changes. Koji tried to hide behind the heavy curtain of the Caretaker’s roped hair.

“What have you seen?” he asked. “What do you know?”

“Is it too late?”

“No.” Jedrick’s voice was closer, for he was kneeling now. “Not all who waver Fall.”

“If the honey is gone, that is bad,” Koji said. “Ravel told me.”

“That explains it.” Cherith spoke over Koji’s head. “He managed to befriend a twice-pierced, grafted Guardian.”

“Do you realize how extraordinarily rare . . .?”

Cherith’s eyebrows arched. “I have seen enough rarities to understand their worth. As have you.”

Jedrick grumbled softly.

Have I displeased him? Koji glanced back again, but Jedrick didn’t seem upset. In fact, he’d spread his wings, offering shelter. Maybe this cherub could help. “You are new.”

“The time when I was newfound is long past,” Jedrick said.

Shaking his head, Koji tried for better words. “A dimming angel hides in his friends’ blind spot. But you are new to this place. You can look and see.”

Jedrick nodded once.

Koji turned in Cherith’s arms to face the cherub. “It is not too late?”

“No,” Jedrick repeated. “God draws many back to Himself.”

“How?”

“In as many ways as there are needs.”

Hope unfurled in Koji’s heart.

“I have bees to tend. Go with Jedrick,” Cherith said.

Jedrick stood. “I will take you to Shimron.”

Koji hesitated.

“Everyone in the tower is laying aside their work for a time. A pair of Worshippers is newly arrived. They are here to lead us in song. And perhaps to create an opportunity,” Cherith explained.

“I thought of that as well,” Jedrick said.

Opportunity?

Before Koji could ask what they meant, Jedrick took Koji by the shoulder. “Come along, little Observer. Shimron will be watching for you.”

Koji followed the Protector away from the hives, trotting to keep up. Once Koji could no longer hear the angry buzz of bees, he asked, “Opportunity?”

Jedrick slowed his steps. “When an angel cannot find peace, he should seek out a Worshipper. The zamarim bear witness to broken hearts and barren hopes. They can lead the wavering back into worship.”

“That is good.”

The Protector’s stern features softened. “May the one who is suffering reach out and grasp hope.”

Koji nodded and glanced around, for they’d reached the assembly.

“You found him!” Shimron exclaimed, but with one look into Koji’s face, his smile faded. The First One quietly asked, “Captain?”

“Later,” Jedrick said, excusing himself with a nod.

Shimron guided Koji through the gathering. His hand on the boy’s back was the only thing keeping him moving. I want to leave. I do not want to see. Still, Koji’s gaze darted from side to side, automatically cataloguing the attendees.

What would happen if someone was missing?

Whispers rippled through the middling Observers, and at first Koji paid no attention. But to his relief, everyone in the tower was present. There is hope, he reminded himself.

Finally, stray remarks caught his attention. A hint here. A guess there. They were saying that Shimron’s choice was made, and Koji’s heart sank. Didn’t that mean he’d be leaving soon? Which of my teachers will go with him? Koji searched the crowd, trying to guess who had found the First One’s favor, but something was strange. Why are they all looking at me?

“Koji?” Shimron murmured. “What is wrong?”

He chose an answer that fit both problems. “I do not want to lose any of my mentors.”

The oddest expression flitted across the ancient angel’s face. “And I do not wish to lose any apprentices.”

One of the Worshippers began a simple call to worship. Koji sang, but his whole heart wasn’t in the song. Ever since Shimron’s arrival, he’d spent each evensong watching the First One and making guesses about him. But now that he was at Shimron’s side, his perspective widened. How do dimming angels hide? I have been blind, but I want to see. Where is the one who needs hope?

All of the sudden, Koji’s voice failed. Breath and song left him, leaving nothing but a terrible certainty. His soul keened, and yet he couldn’t look away from the one other angel who wasn’t singing. He mouthed a line here and there, enough to fit in. Until his gaze locked with Koji’s, and his smile faded.

In that moment, the boy felt the enormity of God’s sorrow.

Shimron turned to see why Koji wasn’t singing and gasped. “What is this?”

How do I answer? Koji wasn’t sure what . . . or why . . . or when. Only that something needed to be done. Soon.

Shimron touched his face, swiping away tears with his thumb. “I do not think the song has moved you.”

Koji glanced back across the gathering, but the other angel was gone. It was all the confirmation he needed. He is the one. But why did it have to be him? The enormity of what was happening crashed down around his heart, which broke into sobs.

Shimron’s noise of surprise was quickly followed by an embrace. Fingers sifted through Koji’s hair, and under cover of song, the First One’s gentle voice reached his ear. “Why are you so sad?”

Koji couldn’t find his voice after that. He stayed very still, taking what comfort he could from Shimron’s presence. But the tightness in his throat was frightening. He opened his mouth, but no sound passed his lips. Even the whimper in his soul couldn’t make it past the sudden silence. He pushed a fearful babble of thoughts toward Cherith, who would know what to do, but the Caretaker’s voice didn’t answer. Am I alone?

Lifting his face to gaze at Shimron, he formed a clearer question in his mind. Can you hear me?

The old angel glanced down with an expression of gentle concern. “Can you tell me why the stars are gone from your eyes?”

A small headshake was all the answer Koji could give. I am alone.

Are you?

Koji’s heart leapt at the sound of his Maker’s voice, and he waited breathlessly to hear God’s plan. For what else could this be?

When the time is right for words, you will have them.

Koji’s eyes slipped shut, and in the light behind his eyelids, God spoke kindly. For his sake. For your sake. And for hers. You will understand in time.

Hers? The boy squeezed shut his eyes more tightly and hoped for more. But the watches came and went, and the singing ended. Koji was glad to see the Worshippers join the crowd of Observers who returned to the tower. He was even happier when Ofir brought Cherith.

“Something is amiss. Can you help him?” Shimron said.

The Caretaker took one look into Koji’s eyes and snorted lightly. “Who can undo what God Most High has done?”

Ofir’s grim expression melted into a relieved smile. He mussed Koji’s hair. “As long as you haven’t forgotten how to smile, I won’t worry.”

Koji didn’t want to disappoint his first friend, so he tapped his own forehead.

“You remember how?” Ofir asked, his smile widening at Koji’s adamant nod.

Cherith took charge. “Shimron, this would be a good time to speak.”

“It is? Ah. So be it.” The First One took Koji’s hand. “Do you know why I am here?”

Everyone knew. He had come to find a new apprentice. Koji dipped his head.

“God has declared that the journey is too much for me, and I should not be alone.” Shimron’s smile was small and sad. “I have no desire to take anyone else into danger, yet . . . I must choose.”

Koji’s head tipped to one side. He does not want this.

Shimron sighed. “I need you, Koji. Please, write your name on my heart.”

Next Month: Angel on High, Part Nine: “Right and Wrong”