Untamed

friends sees visions that warn about bad things that are going to happen—usually death and destruction, you know, the standard vision stuff."
    "Would that be Aphrodite, the lovely young woman who—thankfully—adopted Maleficent yesterday?"
    I grinned. "Yeah, that's Vision Girl. And no, none of us are thrilled about the Maleficent adoption." Sister Mary Angela laughed, and I went on. "Anyway, Aphrodite saw what we think is the Raven Mockers' prophecy in her last vision, and she wrote it down."
    Sister Mary Angela's face paled. "And the prophecy foretells the return of Kalona?"
    "Yes, which appears to be happening now."
    "Oh, Mary!" she breathed, crossing herself.
    "That's why we need your help," I said.
    "How can I help keep the prophecy from coming true? I do know a few things about the Nephilim, but nothing specific to this Cherokee legend."
    "No, I think we have most of it figured out, and tonight we're setting into motion some stuff that's seriously going to mess with his ability to fulfill the prophecy. What I need your help with is Grandma. See, the Raven Mockers were right. By messing with her, they messed with me. I won't leave her alone so that they can torment her. The folks at St. John won't call in a Medicine Man because they don't like the whole Pagan thing. So I need someone who is spiritually powerful, and who believes me."
    "So that is where I come in," she said.
    "Yes. Will you help me? Will you stay with Grandma and protect her from the Raven Mockers while I try to set the prophecy back another thousand years or so?"
    "I would love to." She stood up and started walking resolutely to the crosswalk. She glanced back at me. "What? You thought you'd have to conjure wind again to blow me back up there?"
    I laughed and crossed the street with her. This time when she paused before the statue of Mary in the foyer, bowing her head and whispering a quick prayer, I didn't wait impatiently. This time I took a good long look at the statue of the Virgin, noticing for the first time the kindness of her face and the wisdom in her eyes. And as Sister Mary Angela genuflected, I whispered, "Fire, I need you." When I felt the heat begin to build around me, I cupped it into my hand and then flicked my fingers at one of the votive candles that sat, unlit, at the statue's feet. Instantly it, along with half a dozen others, burst into happy flame. "Thank you, fire. You can go play now," I said.
    Sister Mary Angela didn't say anything; she just picked up one of the lit votives and looked at me expectantly. When I didn't say anything, she prompted, "Do you have a quarter?"
    "Yeah, I think so." I dug into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out the change I'd gotten from the Coke machine earlier that day. There were two quarters, two dimes, and a nickel in my hand. Not sure what she wanted me to do with any of it, I held the change out to her.
    She just smiled and said, "Good, put all of it in place of this candle, and let's go upstairs."
    I did as she told me and then we walked back to Grandma's room while she shielded the flickering flame of the votive with her hand.
    The flutter of wings did not greet us as we entered Grandma's room. And there weren't any dark shadows that flitted suddenly at the edge of my vision. Sister Mary Angela went to the statue of Mary and placed the votive in front of it; then she took a seat in the chair I'd been sitting in all day and took her rosary from around her neck. Without looking at me, she said, "Hadn't you better be going, child? You have your own evil to battle."
    "Yeah, I do." I hurried to the side of Grandma's bed. She hadn't moved, but I tried to believe that her color looked a little healthier and that her breathing was a little stronger. I kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "I love you, Grandma. I'll be back soon. Until then, Sister Mary Angela will stay with you. She won't let the Raven Mockers take you away."
    Then I turned to the nun who looked so serene and otherworldly sitting in the hospital chair, fingering her rosary in the small flickering light of the votive that danced shadows on her and on her goddess. I was just opening my mouth to thank her when she spoke first.
    "You don't need to thank me, child. This is my job."
    "Sitting with the sick is your job?"
    "Helping good keep evil at bay is my job."
    "I'm glad you're good at it," I said.
    "As am I."
    I bent and kissed her soft cheek, and she smiled. But there was one more thing I had to say before I left.