Uriel sighed. “Okay, she’s your charge,” he said, pushing her back into the center of the four.
“I can come back from the dead?” Jocelyn asked Michael. “Always? I’m immortal?”
“Of course, you are not immortal,” he replied. “You are a draugar . . . so to speak.”
“You suffered a small bullet to the head,” Raphael said. “That will kill any draugar . . . But they come back, and so do you . . . though not as quickly.”
Jocelyn paused in thought and conjured up the Thoth Tarot card that was right for her to receive. She received The Hanged Man, which corresponds to redemption through sacrifice, and placed it in on the altar near Raphael, near the air dagger. She hoped to get redemption for killing those innocent people by sacrificing herself to find a cure for humanity.
“Why is that?” she asked Raphael, finally.
“Which one? Why you come back, or why not as quickly?”
“Both, I suppose.”
“We are largely in the dark about how all this works. I have two sources of information: one, my mortal followers, those that choose to and can talk to me; and two, those entities on the astral plane who have their own mortal followers, that are willing to talk to me. Call it my network, if you will, and those in either category are few. And from my network, reports are that draugar need almost no time to recover from being dead, unless their brains are severed from their spinal cords. The Lord knows, and probably Metatron knows, but they will not tell us. What we know, because you let us in here during your recovery period, is that right now you are in a . . . state of . . . Well, your heart beats very slowly, pumping just enough oxygen to the brain to keep it functioning. But to everyone else, you appear dead.”
“So I’m not dead?”
“You were dead. Oh, you were very much dead,” Gabriel said. “But now you are not, and you were not dead for long.”
“I don’t understand. I thought dead was dead. That you can’t come back from it, even by magic.”
“Only once you have penetrated the veil. Until then, you are recoverable . . . and people come back from the dead all the time—drowning victims, for example. Some came back after being dead for several minutes. They do need help, though, and your infection has helped you in that regard.”
She conjured up the Fortune Thoth Tarot Card and placed it next to her cauldron. The Wheel of Fortune represents Destiny, and it helped confirm that she was pre-destined for this struggle.
“So . . .” She dreaded asking a question. “Why are you here?”
“Because you summoned us!” Michael said, appearing angry. “I hope you did not waste our time.”
“Well, you told me I was dead,” Jocelyn said to Saint Michael. “That helps, but I need to understand my next steps, what I should do now.”
“Metatron wants you to save the world or you will go to Hell,” Michael said, his anger tempered. “Other than tell you that, I cannot make your decisions for you.”
“I sense you don’t agree with Metatron’s tactics.”
“Metatron speaks for the Lord. I serve him, and I cannot question him. To question him would be the same as questioning gravity.”
“Do you know anything about Colorado Springs? Peterson Air Force Base? Atlanta? The CDC?” She spun around and back. “Any of you?”
“I can tell you the CDC has not reconstituted, but I cannot say what the future will bring. As for Colorado Springs, I am in the dark, so please inform me what you find there. In fact, if you find any safe zone, you can help others find it by letting me know about it.”
“So, I should keep trying to get there?”
Michael took a very deep breath. As he let it out, the heat was almost unbearable. “Jocelyn, humanity’s fate is in your hands, not mine. You have the Free Will. I do not. I would not be here if I did.”
Jocelyn conjured up a Lust Thoth Tarot card and placed it on her altar by her wand in front of Michael. Lust represents courage and magical power, two things she would need if she were to succeed in her quest.
“You said you were busy. Then what have you been doing all this time?”
“Giving people courage, mostly. The ones who ask for it. Raphael helps people with logical reasoning, Gabriel helps people keep their emotions from overwhelming them, and Uriel . . . What is it you are doing mostly right now?”
“Keeping people sane.”
“Ah, yes, valuable in this troubled time.”
“Speaking of which,” Uriel said. “Jocelyn, the people who killed you may have stolen your medication. Do you know where to get more?”
“No, but if I get to Bullhead City or Colorado Springs there may be some.”
“Well, then, that is your first order of business.”
She looked at the gray-blue tiled stone floor. “I’m sorry I’m so weak.”
“That is your illness,” Michael said. “You are not weak, but you must constantly fight your illness. If you are going to save the world, you need to keep your illness in check.”
“I killed people because of that illness . . . innocent people . . .”
“You need to forgive yourself. Guilt is but a tool of humanity to prevent sin. But as with any tool, it can be used dangerously. Guilt is dangerous for you now. It will cause you to hesitate when you must kill. And that hesitation could doom you to failure, and thus doom all of humanity.”
She turned to face Gabriel and his glistening suit. “What advice would you give me?”
“My job is the easiest because you had that vigil. It taught you how to function without emotional attachment.”
Skunk appeared on Jocelyn’s right shoulder, startling her. “Did someone call for me?” he asked.
Gabriel rolled his eyes.
“No, Skunk,” Jocelyn said. “But please stay here with me.”
She turned to Uriel. “And you? Anything more other than take my meds?”
“When you make decisions, ground them
