The Angels Saga: Angels of Love: The Lucy Potter Septet

Book Six

Lucy Potter and the Children of Haven

 by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Copyright 6177 SC

Chapter One

Lucy Potter was an extraordinary lady.  In more ways than one.   This was the fixed and constant opinion of Lucifer Malfoy.  Vanquished, yet again.  And fuck it pissed him off.  He should fix the little bitch up.  But, no.  He couldn’t.  The strange emotion, which angels talked of, which, perhaps, in days long ago, in an inifinite realm he partook of, but long ago decided that the truths of passion, the truths of aggression, the truths of the will of the dark magic, took precedence over anything so simple as that strangest of emotions.  That emotion called – love.

He remembered the Celestyels of Infinity, and the passion they’d had towards him on the occasions they led him to their bedroom, and lavished rich lovings upon him.  And he still enjoyed those lavishings, especially on his manhood, in the brothels of the dark places of society, where he ordered his pleasures, and paid his fee, and lay there, as she did her work, as she did his pleasure.

But with Lucy, while he desperately wanted to fuck her brains out, the strangest and most ridiculous of emotions said to him, ‘You love her too much you devil.’  And so he prattled on these days with email after endless email about his victories against this biker dude or that drug dealer, and the victories he’d won on the battlefield of the barroom floor.  And he did that, not even in fact anymore, but with bravado and Majesterial brutality.  But he always said, at the end of his little tirades, two simple words.  Your cute.

She was, in fact, quite cute.  A babe, really.  And had a spirit which turned him on, gave him a hard on, and off he went to his bedroom, relieved himself, and lay there, fantasizing upon Lucy, and perhaps, letting that weird feeling fill his heart.

Love.

But, fuckit.  He was a devil.  He was a Malfoy.  She was just another woman, just another babe, just another fuck.

Still, he couldn’t think that in that part of his heart which some greater power still controlled.

He loved her.  As simple as that.  He loved the dumbass little witch.  He loved her.

*

Daniel Daly, head of Haven Noahide fellowship, sat in his Cooma north abode, Lucy sitting at the desk, with a pen, a quill in fact, writing out a portion of the Torah.  Genesis chapter 1 in fact.  She’d never done this before, but he had suggested to her that a faithful Karaite Noahide, if one were to take the religion seriously, would in fact, in time, get to writing out the entire Rainbow Torah.  Genesis 1 – 11:9.  And so, this morning, as the rays of dawn hit the front window, sitting there quietly, enjoying the peace of a beautiful Sunday Morning, the same title for such a song by the band Madasun enjoying its playing on repeat on the CD player, he was inspired, got Lucy up early, at their bacon and eggs and other things, and suggested the idea to her.

‘Sure.  After lunch,’ she responded.  He didn’t object.

She was slow, but handwriting was often like that, and took time, especially Lucy’s, as she was so incredibly neat.  But around dinner time she produced the parchment, of all things she had chosen and purchased downtown in Cooma, and he looked at it.  It was beautiful.  She had completed the Rainbow Torah designation of Haven Noahide Fellowship, which was Genesis 1 to Genesis 2:4a.  That was the Creation section.

‘What do you think?’ she asked him.

‘It’s a lot better than my first effort.  My handwriting has never been that neat.’

She nodded, and took the parchment and placed it inside the plastic folder she had decided to keep her work in, inside a plastic sleeve.

‘I’ll read it, you know, Dan.  When it’s finished.  It will be my personal torah.  It’s the one I’ll stick with.’

‘I usually read a JPS Tanakh myself, but fair enough,’ responded Daniel.

‘Do you ask this of all of them?  Members of Haven?  The Children of Haven.’

‘No.  Not really.  It’s not even written down in the 7 Rainbow Bibles as a requirement.  Just something I suggest to those who are serious about the faith.  Some have done it.’

‘Am I going to meet them, then?  The Children of Haven.  It’s been a few years, now, Daniel.  We’ve been discussing this.  Lucifer’s gone, now.  Voldemort too.  I don’t think they will be back.  Not any time soon, anyway.  Knew they had messed with the wrong people.’

‘Pride comes before the fall, Lucy Potter.  A witch of maturity should know such a truth.  I am familiar with Shelandragh’s teachings upon you, you know.  Quite familiar.’

‘You fancy yourself a wizard,’ she said casually.  ‘You think you have any gifts?’

‘I don’t always agree with David Rothchild, you know.  His judgements.  His jewish religion.  Noahide faith, in the end, has its own freedoms.  Spiritual animism is fine to me.  God made it, after all, and I have these gifts in me, just like you.’

‘But what about real magic?’ she asked him curiously.

‘Mmm.  No.  Not in the end.  Don’t want to fuck with the ultimate source of that shit.  It’s a different spirit.  A different energy.  It goes back to the beginning, of all things, when God was young in his dreams and plans.  He created the energy field for temptation purposes, to sort out ole Samael.’

‘How do you know that?’ she asked him.

‘A little angel told me so,’  he said with a wink.  ‘Heaven does that for me, occasionally.  Gives me a little whisper, a little story, a little legend of what its all about.  A little about you, even.  And Enrique, funnily enough.  Strange, you and him.  Have you worked it out yet?  Do you love him?’

‘We share Jenny.  That will always be true.  You know I love him, ok.  I always will.  But I like Selena Gomez’ advice.  In and out of love, and that’s how I like it.  Its why I’m here, of course.’

‘Huh?’ he said, turning back to what she had just said, because his head had been turned.

She just smiled at him.

‘How much of that parchment did you get?’ he asked her.

‘Enough for the whole Rainbow Torah.’

‘Job.  Also Job.  If you want to do that eventually.  That book is ok for Noahides.  He was one.’

‘I know.  I thought about that already, anyway.’

‘Would you ever do it all?  The whole Tanakh?’

‘Have you?’ she asked, looking directly at him.

‘No,’ he responded, after a moment.  ‘Only the Rainbow Torah.  3 times.  Nothing more.’

‘Then probably not,’ she replied.  ‘Don’t want to usurp my leader now, do I?’  She smiled at him, and he grinned in response.

‘You’ll meet the children of Haven soon enough, ok.  There are a few of them in Cooma.  A lot more in Canberra where it started.  You’ll like them.  I’m sure of it.  And you’ll get a rush in the fellowship.  The spirit of our communion.’

‘Mmm?’ she queried.

‘Churches have them.  Most religions do.  A unique spirit.  I prayed long and hard for each of the 7, that they would have really intoxicating spirits.  Ones which really helped the heart in its life struggles.  You only get it when we are together, though.  But its bliss.’

‘I look forward to it,’ she said smiling at him.  He smiled back.

Shelandragh came around that evening, and they had their meal, and Daniel stole another look at Lucy’s little rainbow torah when she was sleeping, and smiled to himself.  Always nice to see the Noahide world grow.  Always nice.

*

Jane Elegar Smith was a regular person in many ways.  Bored with life at 18, suicidal, addicted to death metal, working as a prostitute in Fyshwick, living in a Trailer Park in Symonston or Narrabundah or some bloody suburb she couldn’t remember the name of, but it was on her mail and her DSP card, and addicted to cigarettes, honeycomb schnapz, and girl porno, Jane Elegar Smith was indeed a regular person.  Or so she believed anyway.  She fancied herself ‘Decadence’.  The title or moniker she called herself by.  She was a prophetess of wisdom, inspired by Pentecostal messages describing her as a chosen vessel of God, even though she had fucked off from church after only 2 visits.  Now she lived on the DSP – the Disability Support Pension – for her schizophrenia, played Sega video games from the 90s which she collected, and listened to Death Metal acts such as Slayer, Morbid Angel and Metallica, but adoring Hard Rock even more than the heavy stuff.  She even had tapes.  A girl of her generation, even with tape cassettes.  It was unheard of, but she collected them anyway, as some places still produced them.  She had, in her cabin in the trailer park, a pile of tape cassette box holders, piled high to the ceiling of the cabin, alphabetized, 4 columns of them, about 25 rows, or something like that.  About 100 boxes, with over 2000 cassettes so far.  And about the same again on CD and record.  Out the front of her Cabin was a sign which read.  ‘Bon Jovi?  Are you serious?  Poison Forever.’  Yet, despite being the world’s biggest Brett Michael’s fan, she loved the Jovi also.  Decadence was really just that – decadence.  But she was also in a relationship, of about 3 months now, with a Cooma guy.  Daniel.  Daniel Daly.  He’d met her, at the trailer park, when he was visiting a friend of his, and said hello.  He’d said hi back and she invited him into her cabin for a friendly chat.  And he saw her metal, and he said ‘I love you forever,’ in a cute voice.  Yet, as strange as it seemed, somehow she knew he meant it.  Like it was fate.  Like it was destiny.

He was a religious freak, he told her, but she said that was ok.  She liked religion now.  She liked God.  He had filled her with his spirit and, while she argued with him each morning, she loved him none the less.  God was great.  Even understood a girl like her.  And then, just 2 weeks after friendship, he asked her to go steady with him, and she said ‘Shit yeah.’

Decadence was unemployed, naturally, and in terms of physical appearance she was slightly chubby, but in what Daniel told her was a cute way, which she knew in fact to be true.  Curvy, more than anything.  Not an embarrassing fatness, and he said he really liked her legs.  Kind of him.

She ate ice cream, lots of it, junk food, and watched pay tv all day and all night, apart from when her and Sarah and Sarah’s man, Davo, from next door, played cards, which they did half the day.

Suicidal thoughts were impulsive, because she wanted to go to heaven now, rather than having to wait forever.  Coz she didn’t hate life, and didn’t really suffer depression.  Madness, sure, and killing herself would be a rush.  But not now, ok.  Probably not now.  Daniel was on her mind.  He was nice.  Sweet.  And he loved her and what she represented.  And he meant it.  He meant it.

*

Daniel was preaching a sermon.  Haven had gathered in Cooma, and Lucy was in the front row, sitting next to Jane Smith.

‘Why don’t we fuck animals?’ he began.  ‘Vd’s.  Causes VD’s which make you sterile.  No offspring.  No future.  No hope.  Also, a sexual act which doesn’t make children.  Pretty crude as well.  Why not homosexuality?  Leads to bestiality.  They don’t give a fuck about standards, and end up fucking animals as well.  Besides, no offspring either.  The current trend of gay marriages.  They don’t make babies.  Oh, let us let them adopt, says society.  Stupid, aren’t they.  Kids could grow up gay as well.  No offspring for them, either.  What about wars?  Oh, yeh.  I went off to war, says sergeant slaughter in his heavenly abode.  Got my brains blown out with a bazooka.  Didn’t have kids to my girl back home yet, though.  No offspring.  No future.  Why don’t we allow brawlings and fightings?  They end up killing each other in rage.  No future.  No offspring.  You see those, and countless other reasons why the Torah is correct, is currently ignored by politically correct society.  They think they know better.  Their liberal ragings on evolutionary scientific ‘Truths’.  They’re idiots.  They won’t inherit the land.  You see, ever generation God prunes mankind.  Roots out the wicked, lets the righteous prosper.  It’s why we are less violent in these generations and holier than in the earlier ones.  But sin is still popular, and people are still choosing it.  Yet, what really survives are righteous bloodlines who have learned the truths taught from their parents, about sin and how it only kills you in the end.  How it only kills you in the end.  Like the dark magic.  How it only kills you in the end.’

He stood down.  There was a clap, and they mingled, and Lucy considered his final words.  How the dark magic only kills you in the end.  She got the point.  She really got the point.

*

Lucifer looked at the picture of Lucy above his Sydney home bedroom desk.  He lived in Sydney, now, for the most part.  Lucius in the UK, and Lucas in the USA.  That’s how they liked it, the triplets.  Living apart.  Living in their own universe.  Ocker Aussie had won him, a long time ago, and he spoke like them, swore like them, and played AC DC on his CD Walkman time and time again.  He was even a citizen, and hadn’t needed to smudge the lines.  He thought on Lucy, and he thought on his sins.  Lucifer had killed men.  But, in the end, despite being a scumbag son of a bitch he knew himself to be, they had always been of the evil kind.  Brawlers in bars, boozing madman having a go at him, who he had knocked off.  Or drug dealers trying to screw him on the price.  He took a particular disliking to them.  But he always had a look at the man, and asked himself ‘Does he deserve it.’  He remembered, you see, an old law of life taught him in his youth.  By John Bradlock.  ‘Kill an innocent, Lucifer, and don’t think God will forgive you, let alone prosper you.  Remember that.’

He did.  He always had.  And while he was scum, perhaps Lucy could even like a guy like him.  Perhaps.

He went off to the TV room, switched on the TV, and watching ‘Supernatural’, his mind drifted away, and he snoozed, as the world turned, and Lucy Potter gave no sudden thoughts of inspiration towards Lucifer that day either.

Chapter Two

Lucy Potter sat with young Jenny.  3 years old, still not talking, which was a worry.  But she was no trouble.  In fact, largely the opposite.  When she put her down, she sat there, unmoving.  Just playing with whatever toy her mother had given her, smiling, happy, innocent.  But, as Lucy noticed, she just sat there.  Unmoving.  As if a spirit of stability and unchanginess had settled upon her, and she wasn’t really interested in doing anything else apart from the issue at hand.  And in Jenny’s case it was mostly the toy her mother gave her.  What a strange young child.

She had prayed for Jenny to Jehovah since her birth, and asked for a blessing in Karaite Noahide faith for the child.  It was her religion, now, and she wanted the child brought up properly because of it.  She wouldn’t refuse her magic, though, but had second thoughts about real magic.  The magic of Shelandragh’s.  The child probably didn’t have that anyway – real magic.  She was probably animistic, which even Daniel didn’t object to, and he was serious on that issue.  Daniel loved  Shelandragh, though, and didn’t object to the magic within her.  She was a good old soul, he told Lucy often, and that whatever the Dark Magic had once been to her had been conquered long ago by Shelandragh’s quiet sensibilities and general sense of goodness and courtesy.  She was a fine witch, and the community was lucky to have her, Daniel once commented to her.

Jenny was an attractive enough child, good looking, like her mother, and looked like Enrique also.  She ate her food, and didn’t object to her veges most of the time, but never ate the sandwich crusts, which she left.  That was not good enough for the young child, so Lucy had started cutting off the crusts, amused by the child’s picky eating habits.  When spoken to the girl looked up at you, eyes wide with wonder, but no other reaction.  She was not deaf, or anything like that, and usually turned her head when her mother was speaking to her.  But she was oh, so quiet, and there was never a peep from her.  A few cries in babyhood, which had left as she started toddling around.  She was something quite different than the expectations Lucy had had in her first motherhood.

Enrique came around from time to time, but claimed, now, was with another woman.  Another love, and that he even had children.  Good for him, she thought to herself.  He had found where he probably really belonged then.  And then, last week, he had sent her a postcard from Brazil, and the girl’s name was Monica Gomez.  One of his own.  Perhaps she should have expected that in the end.  His own culture.  Not that surprising in the end, really.  Not that surprising.

It was a happy, content and joyous life in Cooma, living next door to the pool usually, but she spent a lot of time living with Daniel Daly also, for she had a crush on him.  She hadn’t told him.  She’d been subtle about that, but it was something which had bubbled up for a few years now.  He was like her, so she noticed.  A similar spirit, as if they were related somehow.  And she understood his sarcasm and humour, and she liked his general demeanour.  And he was attractive also.  She had a lot of money, now, and from winnings early on in life in a special quest she had invested the money in shares in Australian companies later on in life, which now sufficed as her total income without any problems at all, the companies having still continued to grow.  She was happy, quiet, content.  But the Children of Haven had now come into her life, and it was a new beginning.  A new spiritual adventure.  And each day she found private joy from God, anxiously waiting upon what would happen next.  For life was good and that was the way she liked it.

*

Dead.  All dead.  All dead.  Lucy looked on at the funeral as Madalene was laid to rest, next to her sister Georgia and brother Jayden, in the Chakola cemetery.  ‘The last of them,’ said Daniel.  ‘All gone now.  Just you and me, Lucy.’

‘Amelia, of course,’ responded Lucy.

Daniel’s eyes glazed over.  Amelia was in Canada, and did not speak to him much.  She was upset.  Upset over old words of Daniel.  Words of eternity.  Words of eternal life.

‘Some others of the Children of Destiny have a different fate, Amelia.  Not the same as the traditional kind.  Other ones, perhaps inspired by magic and myth.  A longer life.  A more – eternal – one.  Just the way of things, you know.  Some dreams live.  Some dreams die.’

He remembered those words.

‘There are a lot of people in this world,’ said Lucy.  ‘And there is not much Christianity left, now.  I went to church the other day.  In civic.  A Uniting Church.  2 members.  On Sunday.  The only two members.  They said something to me.  About 300 Christians left in Canberra now.  Ironically, the Jewish community is apparently bigger, just, now anyway.  Same worldwide.’

‘And Islam?’ queried Daniel.

‘Are there any?  Anywhere?  People hated that in the end.  So violent.  So extreme.’

Daniel nodded consolingly.  He looked as the gravesmen piled on the dirt, prayed a soft prayer for Madalene’s soul, and turned with Lucy Potter, walked up to the car, and sombrely drove home.  Sombrely drove home.

*

The Children of Haven.  A thought had entered the mind of Lucy Potter.  She was now one of the Children of Haven.  And then another question.

‘Who are the 7DF, Daniel?  What is that all about?’

‘Oh.  Those are the other ones.  Seven Divine Fellowships.  Number one is Haven Noahide Fellowship and then, in order, Assembly of the Divine Creator, Universal Faith Assembly, Assembly of the Living God, Universal Truth Assembly, Assembly of the Most High and, finally, Haven Adamide Fellowship.’

‘Two Havens!’ she exclaimed.

‘For the Children of Adam.  A more universal focus.  But you are Haven Noahide.’

‘I don’t know.  Perhaps I’ll choose another one.  Maybe, Assembly of the Most High.’

He looked at her.  ‘Dream on.’  But he kept the matter in mind.

‘When are we having another service?’ she asked later on in the day.  ‘The spirit was amazing, as you said.  When we were all together.  So spiritual.  So deep.  So thoughtful about it all.  Dense, even.  Like so many issues had been considered quite deeply.’

‘Seeking the heart of God,’ he said softly.  ‘Prayed into them.  By myself and other members.  The spirit of the Assemblies are eternal.  That was the primary and chief request.  So we developed our theological thinking and brought in distinct theologies for each fellowship.  A unique spirit for each of them.  You were very close to Madalene.  She was Catholic.  Haven Noahide is primarily aimed at ex-catholics.’

‘Really?’ she asked curiously.

‘The other assemblies have a different client base.  Ex-anglicans go into Assembly of the Divine Creator, for example.  Or English Catholics.  It’s an Anglospheran assembly.  Strongly promotes English culture as one of its core goals.  A strong focus on that.  Also focuses on the Second Quran, but not the first one.  I wrote a document once called ‘The Second Quran’

‘And Universal Faith Assembly?’

‘God’s one.  Specially for God.  Meant to be a house of prayer and worship were everyone of all persuasions can feel at home.  Even goes soft on the gays somewhat.  UFA.  A very ‘Accepting’ fellowship.’

‘Assembly of the Living God?’

AOTLG is catered for other religions and ex agnostics / ex atheists / ex non religios and ex deists.  It also has an Anglosphere focus, but primarily on the legal structures of the 7 Sovereign Nations as I call them.  The constitutions.’

‘What are the 7 Sovereign Nations?’

‘UK, US, Australia, Ireland, New Zealand, Guyana and Canada.  The main English Speaking Nations.  Just an idea I prayed about once.’

‘Oh.  And Universal Truth Assembly?’

‘Has the ability of having Jewish and Muslim members.  The Tanakh and the Quran are books also for this Assembly.  I recognize the historical facts behind the formulation of the texts, but they are included.  Also, to be very blunt Lucy, it has an African penchant about it.  The Black Fella’s assembly, putting it very bluntly.’

‘Fair enough,’ she responded.  ‘What about Assembly of the Most High?’

‘Protestant Christians who have left the church as well as the Evangelical Church and any ex-Pentecostals.  But, with each of the Assemblies, they have their own unique identities anyway, based around the theological tenets of the Rainbow Bible for each of them.’

‘And Haven Adamide for humans in general?’

‘I am aiming towards Ex Unitarian Christians and Ex Oneness Christians in that assembly.  However, various little angels have whispered to me the Assemblies exist in heaven now anyway, and they have their own memberships based on the general heavenly community people of those of whoever has taken an interest.  On earth there is a bit of a focus towards people from prior spiritual backgrounds towards their own particular spiritual assembly, something just for them, and that is the way I have organized it so far.  But, technically, you could join whichever of the 7DF you wanted to in the end.  It comes down to your own choice, that being if you want to join it.’

‘I’ll end up in Assembly of the Most High.  But I’ll stick with Haven for now.’

‘And how do you know that?’ he asked her, smiling.

‘I just do,’ she responded, and wandered off, a big smile on her face.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucifer Malfoy sat on his Harley Davidson, smoked his ciggie, took a swig of Jack Daniel’s, and looked at the fellowship hall in North Cooma.  He wasn’t an idiot.  He knew about this place years ago.  Alexander had tipped him off on it.  There were about 5 cars in the parking lot, the service going on and, flicking his ciggie to the ground, he dismounted his bike, brushed his hair back with his hands, and wandered up the path, to enter the building.

Inside there was not much going on at the moment.  About 20 souls, sitting around, chatting lightly.  Daniel himself was up the front, behind the dais, seated, looking through some notes.  And there, in the front row, next to some other chick, Lucy.  Looking beautiful.  He wandered up, somewhat obnoxiously, and eyes turned to look at him.  And then Lucy, whose eyes were staggered, but said nothing as he sat down next to him, snorted, and stared frontwards.  She looked at him for several moments, but said nothing.  Daniel stood, noticed Lucifer, but got to his sermon.

‘Evil, is not good,’ said Daniel.  ‘Not good.  In fact, diametrically opposed to good.  But it is so stupid, doing whatever the hell it wants, sometimes it acts in goodness without realizing it.  You see the heart of evil is not to choose evil, but to choose completely its own will.  And sometimes, in that strange beast of freedom, even goodness can be chosen.  The Dark Magic works like that as well, protecting itself, hating all who would oppose it but, in a truly capitalistic amazement, will work towards those things which will get it off as well, even if sometimes it protects, even if sometimes it loves.  Damien Bradlock is the heart of so much evil on this planet, an adversary of our fellowship’s, and like Alexander and like,’ he said, looking at his guest, ‘Lucifer Malfoy,’ even evil sometimes has its days off, when it just wants to hang around, have a good time, and do whatever.  And, so that we teach the lesson of God – the fundamental lesson – that we reward goodness and punish evil, on such occasions we reinforce its finally sensible decisions, and give the devils a break.  Evil is as evil does but, deep down in the hearts of so many used to doing whatever the fuck they want, sometimes, just sometimes, they listen to that small and quiet voice of eternity which says ‘lighten up dude.’

And Daniel left off speaking, returned to his seat, and the congregation set to chatter.

During the barbecue that followed, Lucifer behaved himself somewhat.  He spoke well of Daniel’s sermon, and agreed he was a thoroughly evil son of a bitch, but he smiled a lot, grinned madly a lot, and drinking his coca cola, which was all that was on offer apart from the juices, he attempted cuddling Lucy Potter on more than one occasion.  And one occasion she didn’t even resist.

‘So where do I sign up?’ Lucifer asked, as the congregation gradually started departing for the day.

Daniel looked at him sombrely, went off to the bookcase, and returned with a Haven Noahide Fellowship Rainbow Bible.

‘Read this.  All of it.  We have informal membership to start with.  Stick with that and you can become a full time member if that is what you want.’

‘I have sinned, pastor,’ said Lucifer, slightly mocking.

‘Don’t I know it,’ said Daniel, a wry smile on his face.

‘Jesus Christ!’ swore Lucy, looking at Lucifer holding a Rainbow Bible.

‘Maybe one day,’ said Lucifer, and again tried to pinch her butt for the fourth time that day.

*   *   *   *   *

Later on that afternoon, Lucifer having hooned off on his bike, Lucy and Daniel were still in the fellowship hall, cleaning up, busy with their duties, when Lucy, finishing, sat down, and looked frontwards.  The Rainbow against the far wall looked bright and happy, and she was in a reflective mood.  Daniel came into the room, looked around, and looked at her.  ‘It’s pretty much done.  I’ll vacuum sometime during the week.’

She nodded vaguely.  He sat down next to her.

Finally she spoke.  ‘Lucifer Malfoy, Daniel?  Lucifer Malfoy?’

‘In the end, Lucy Potter, God has an arrangement with a man of God.  Especially a Karaite one.  You probably know Ezekiel 18 anyway.’

‘Humph,’ she said, for she knew it well.

‘Well that’s the point, Luce.  If they really get their act together, and get the hell over being such sons of bitches all the time, God will give them a break.  He does it for everyone.  And if Lucifer Malfoy, the devil himself, really wants to have a go at Noahide religion, and get over some of his evil, as a Man of God I have to intercede for him and give him a chance.  It’s in the contract I made with God as a Karaite.’

‘I understand,’ she responded.  ‘It’s just, well.  Lucifer Malfoy, Daniel?’

Daniel smirked, scruffed her shoulder, and as they walked home to Daniel’s place, even Daniel could appreciate the irony of the situation, and wondered to himself just what the next little while would hold for the people of Cooma and the members of Haven Noahide Fellowship in particular.

Chapter Three

‘It is, the Anima,’ said Aro.

‘The Anima?’ queried Kristen.

Gladitorius Vigantes looked at the spirit in the heart of Celestevere, and turned, disinterested back to his entourage.  ‘The Anima is a weak and pathetic spirit,’ he began.  ‘The power of nature and nothing more.  And these days all it makes is rainbows.  Quite pathetic stuff.’

Kristen gazed at the coalescing spiritual energy before her and, suddenly, as if in response, a rainbow appeared in the centre of it and shone brilliantly for a few moments.  Then it was gone, and the Anima shrank in size, and started to scoot around the main hall, as if finding something new for the first time.

‘What is the Anima?’ Kristen asked her husband, Kardos, a little later that day, in their Celesteveran abode, down in the heart of the Nether.

‘It doesn’t concern us much,’ began Kardos.  ‘It’s, you know,’ he said, waving his hand upwards.

‘You know what?’ she asked, sitting down, suddenly very interested.

‘God stuff,’ he said, looking directly at her.

‘Oh,’ she said, and looked into the fire.  ‘But, what is it?’

‘The spirits of nature, all manifesting in a central point from time to time, forming itself to understand the world, presumably, to learn new things.  To acquire more knowledge.  Anima is the spirit of nature, the spirit of life, in a sense.  It is those things we feel spiritually, the taste of the ambience of Celestevere, for example, is its own Animistic expression.  It is a living spirit, the spirit of nature, but it doesn’t really threaten anybody, doesn’t really care that much.  It just wants to have fun, somebody posited once.’

‘Fascinating,’ she responded.

‘And sometimes, just sometimes, people control it.  Who are gifted in this spirit.  The eternal spirit.’

She looked at him to try and understand what he meant, but it was vague and indifferent, such a common face on the husband of Kristen, Prince of Celestevere.

*   *   *   *   *

Flying through the heavens, returning to herself, a spirit which had controlled the Anima – the Animus host – shot like lightning across the sky, passing over the east coast of Australia and, just as suddenly as it had travelled by instinct, it arrived back in its body, and its eyes jolted open.

‘She’s back!’ yelled Daniel, looking down at Decadence, whose eyes had quickly started flickering.

Lucy and Shelandragh came over instantly and helped Decadence to her feet.

‘Fuck!  What a rush!’ said Decadence.  ‘It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.’

‘It certainly works differently in you, by the looks of it,’ commented Shelandragh May.  ‘What exactly happened?’

‘It’s like I was instantly drawn to a place, to witness something or to see somebody.  It felt as if there was this compulsion within me which needed to be satiated and I flew out of Australia, over the ocean, to America.  And across the land and suddenly down beneath the world, in a dark and haunting world, like where a hobbit lives.’

‘It was a nether,’ said Shelandragh, knowingly.  ‘There are a number around the world.  Where the undead live.’

‘It was intense,’ said Decadence.  ‘I spent several minutes just wandering around, and there was a woman, a beautiful woman, who I think I had been drawn to.  Someone who was going through a trial of the heart, I think.’

‘Well, you’re back now,’ said Lucy.

‘I’m going to do this again,’ said Decadence.  ‘Now that we know I have this power.  This power, like your’s Lucy.’

‘It was obvious after a while,’ said Shelandragh.  ‘That you had latent abilities in animistic awareness.  This is just a way we brought your talent to the fore.’

‘Amen,’ responded the excited Decadence.

The four of them were in a field in Chakola, around Midnight, in a circle with a Septacle made by white rocks.  At each corner of the 7 pointed Septacle a lantern was burning.  They had invoked an Archangel’s Septacle for protection from evil, for the 7 Archangels of God would intervene should any problems occur.

‘Daniel yawned.  ‘Can we go?  I’m sleepy.’

The girls nodded and, as they trudged through the field back to the dirt road and got into Daniel’s van, Lucy drove them home back to Minoxxia, an exciting night’s adventure providing likely to provide animated conversation for the next few days.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucy sat down at the little park near the pool.  She was happy.  Perhaps, for the first time, in a very long time, she was happy.  Enrique was nowhere to be seen, but she didn’t really worry about that much now.  They were not married, and perhaps never would be.  Things had ended between them, perhaps even amicably.  No, she didn’t necessarily need Enrique around, for another long friend had captivated the heart of Lucy Potter.  Danny Daly.  He was a dowdy fella in many ways, old and set in his ways, conservative.  But soft.  A strong heart, but soft.  Gentle even.  He had a streak of sarcasm, but an equally strong sense of responsibility, and kind mannerisms and demeanour.  Kind hearted in general.  Cute, somewhat.  A little fat, which he had long been, but tolerable.  She remembered long ago when he had been even somewhat chubby, but had managed to finally get that under control.  He was also intelligent and thoughtful with his words, unless he was arguing with God, in which case, due to his schizophrenic condition, you could hear him practically cursing Jehovah for this or that inane issue, only to hear him apologizing profusely to God later on in the week.  Quite ironic.

And wealthy.  Oh, she had all the resources in the world available to her, but he communed to her much of Karaite Noahide general faith in the point in life on earth and much of that was the acquisition of wealth.  What you acquire in life is what you acquire in life, Daniel was wont to say, implying that your heavenly reward was what you had acquired in life, plus an extension of associated rights pertaining to these things.  It was a complex theology in some ways, but she got the gist.  And in his databases of items he had owned in life, and either let go of, recycled or sold, for you only had to own an item for a decent time period, he had a great many choice items which she practically coveted.  Things impossible to get now.  It was certainly not true that she was only interested in him for his prospects and wealth, but it was also a factor.  Yet, perhaps the main reason, there were not really many of them left.  On the planet.  The aged ones.  The elect of sorts.  There were thousands once.  Now a few dozen.  And she knew them all, those who had revealed themselves anyway.  In terms of serious relationships now, apart from Enrique, who she was never quite sure it would ever work out with or not, for anybody even approaching a contemporary there were very slim pickings.  But Daniel sufficed none the less.  And her heart also loved him somewhat.  Eternally?  Who could say?  Perhaps even Lucifer might win her there. But for now she enjoyed her time with Mr Daly, and was happy, content and at peace with her simple and quiet Cooma life.

Yet Jane Smith.  Decadence.  The new girl.  She had the spirit – the animus in her – and could control anima instinctively.  That was something new, and perhaps Jane would join them for however long their sojourn on God’s Good Earth had left to them.

Decadence had known, when speaking in the presence of Lucy and Shelandragh about Magic, almost straight away.  She had said that there was always something within her, but now she felt it acutely.  And then Shelandragh had cast a spell of calmness over her, and felt her spirit with her intuition, noting the strong animism within her.  So they had done the Septacle at Chakola, finding the white rocks, and placing Decadence within it.  And she had closed her eyes, and suddenly the spirit had left the body.

What were these gifts?  Where did they come from?  The plan of creation, she guessed.  She knew the Dark Magic, from Daniel’s sermons, was ultimately from God, but almost as a test.  But animism was friendly.  What purpose did it serve?  Where they lightbringers, guardians of mother nature, to use their talents for the good of humanity?  That seemed the most likely purpose, for which her witchcraft, theoretically, served all along anyway.  She did that occasionally.  Took a client.  Read a fair number of fortunes now, for that was in demand a lot.  But occasionally someone sought a romance spell or a good luck spell, or some other blessings.  And there were those who sought curses.  Those she turned away.

Was she a Primal of creation?  An architect of good fortune?  A benevolent servant of the common good.  Supposedly, in the end, that was it.  The common good.  Using white witchcraft for the betterment of mankind.  And then there was the dark side.  Always the dark side.

Lucy Potter was a moral lady.  That was her choice.  She wouldn’t flinch from it either.  She sought good things for others, and believed in the power of love and life.  That was what it was all about.  It was just a pity, though, that not everyone always felt the same way, and challenges had come because of it.  Yet she would stand firm, and resist the devil as it were, and walk on, in her faith, in her gifts, and continue to find that passion and magic in life which had enlivened her soul for these many long years since her childhood.  And praise God because of it.

*   *   *   *   *

‘I know she is young, Lucy.  But you were once, remember.’

‘Heaven’s above, Shelandragh May!  Decadence is not exactly what I was like.  She is a very different kettle of fish.  I’m just worried about her, ok.  The kind of power which seems to be in her, how will she handle it?  People often do reckless things when they are young, you know.  Yes.  You would know, wouldn’t you,’ she said a little guiltily to the nodding Shelandragh May whose eyebrow was raised as she poured out the tea from the kettle.

They sat down in the back kitchen of Minoxxia, at the old table, and Lucy continued.  ‘She needs guidance.  Someone to watch over her at the very least.  A mentor.  Like the way you have watched over me all this time.’

‘And who would do that?’ asked Shelandragh, sipping on her tea.

Lucy said nothing.  ‘I mean, somebody.  Somebody we know, at least.  I don’t know.  Alfric?  Darren, maybe?’

‘I’m wondering, Lucy Potter, if you really already have someone very specific in mind.  I can read thoughts, you know.’

Lucy glared at her.  ‘Come on, Shelandragh.  I’ve lived under your watchful eye long enough.  I can have my own pupil, surely.’

‘I dare say young Jenny, with the things I’ve noticed in her, will be enough for you to handle soon enough, but, yes.  I do hear what you are saying.  But it’s a free world, remember.  She is under no compulsion to submit to your tutelage.’

‘I know.  It’s where I thought you could help.  She respects you.  Sort of looks up to you as a motherly figure.  Perhaps you could say something.’

Shelandragh again raised her eyebrow, but did not comment.

‘Put in a good word for me.  Tell her about how well I have studied with you and all my experiences.’

Shelandragh bit into a Tim Tam, but remained silent.

‘Unless YOU want to mentor her, that is.’

Shelandragh sipped on her tea and gazed at her student.  ‘I think, for the most part, the lecturing days of Shelandragh May are mostly at an end.  I feel it, you know.  The ticking of the clock.  I’m not going to be here forever, Lucy, and I really am starting to show my age.’

’50 at most,’ smiled Lucy.

Shelandragh yet again raised her eyebrow.

‘Well maybe 60,’ said Lucy softly.

‘Which is why I am about ready for retirement.  No, if young Jane Elegar Smith is to find a place of friendship to help her understand her gifts, it is probably in someone a little younger, a little closer to her age.’

Lucy smiled, and gave Shelandragh a hug.  ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.  You will speak to her then?’

‘I’ll speak to her.  But I can’t promise anything.  The girl is obviously quite a free spirit and will make up her own mind.  But I sense she trusts us and likes what we represent.  I’ll have words with her.’

Lucy hugged Shelandragh again, and wandered off to the room Shelandragh had long given her in Minoxxia, to write in her diary about all the wisdom she was just yearning to impart.

*   *   *   *   *

 Lucy was looking through 'Witchcraft in Australia', one of the magazines she subscribed to. It had the Archangels Septacle in the issue she was looking at, a special from a few years back. She thought on Decadence, and how it had protected her from harm. Angels. Saving witches, of all people. How did they do it? They would apparently be alerted if complications arose. It was, in many ways, a mystery to Lucy Potter. But she was a lady well acquainted with mysteries. That had been her long life in many ways. Enigmas, contradictions, paradoxes. A long life, against the laws of nature one would normally assume, but they were elect, weren't they? Daniel assured her of that. Chosen by God. Special to God.

She put the magazine down, and picked up her Rainbow Torah, and read the 'Creation' section. 6 days work, 1 day rest. It was something she had slowly been working on. Resting for the good pleasure, she assumed, of God Almighty. But it worked. It helped her organize her life and work to deadlines when she needed to. But it was a free life, in many ways. She still had sums from ancient gold on ancient quests, well invested monies as well. She was still, financially, well off, for had not been foolish enough to squander her hard won inheritance. God, she believed, organized this in the life of Lucy Potter. Took care of her, and lead her on in her own pathway of salvation. And now? Now she found the Haven Assembly hall, in Cooma North, when they were in there and it was quiet, or Daniel had put on a soft Noahide music album, that she felt spirit. Strong, holy spirit. Beautifully enhanced from the nature around them, and the unique spirit she had grown accustomed to from Haven. Was this the love of God for his elect? This spiritual bliss. Romantically she couldn't complain. She was neither lonely either, and Shelandragh was also her salvation in many ways. An eternal friend and confidante she now believed. Special to her. The mother, in a way, which had gone from her years ago.

But God was always there. Watching her, she felt. Encouraging her heart, teaching her soul, loving her self. God. And he was good, she ultimately concluded. A kind and benevolent loving father, watching over her waking hours and guarding her sleeping dreams. God. What could she ever do without him?

She put the bible away, and laid down on her bed, and, just because, sang soft alleluias, and watched the trees blow in the breeze outside her window, and found the peace of nature and, she imagined, the peace of God. And it was bliss.

Chapter Four

Lucy sat on the sand, and watched the sprite wander about, the little faerie as playful as ever.

'Oooh, Lucy Potter. You do like that Daniel, don't you? Have you screwed him?'

'Minxy!' exclaimed Lucy. 'What a question to ask.'

'Oh, lighten up, you old fuddy duddy. What is life without a bit of the naughty. Boring. That's what it is, I tell you. God boring.'

'God's not boring,' smiled Lucy.

'Oh, for heaven's sake. Father lectures me occasionally on Sprite divine lore. God is the most boring being in creation.'

'He created, remember,' said Lucy.

'Yes. Boredom,' smirked Minxy.

Lucy grinned, despite herself.

'You know what else he created,' sparked the sprite.

'What?' asked Lucy.

'Farmers,' stated Minxy proudly.

'Here we go,' said Lucy.

'Take that current flock up there. Bridges. Still bloody Bridges. Don't they ever leave Chakola?'

'I don't think they ever will,' responded Lucy. 'They belong here, I think.'

'They are all the same, you know. Just like all those gone before them. David was boring enough. God, shear the sheep, fix the bloody water pump, milk the cow. Boring.'

'I am not sure if there ever were cows in David's day,' responded Lucy smiling.

'No. Because the cows died of boredom,' smarted Minxy.

'Very funny,' said Lucy.

'They don't change, you know. Farmers. Same old stupid conversations about political parties, and banks, and loans, and sheep. Always bloody sheep with the Bridges brothers. Jesus. They have no bloody imagination.'

'It's what they do well,' said Lucy.

'It's all they do well,' responded Minxy.

'Your too harsh,' said Lucy.

'Well, perhaps,' smiled Minxy. 'But at least Jayden was intelligent. Didn't take after the farm like his dad. Left that to silly little Blake.'

'I remember Blake,' said Lucy fondly. 'He was kind and true.'

'There all the same though, in the end. Boring. Boring, boring, boring.'

'And your the life of the party?' inquired Lucy gently.

'Exactly,' replied the sprite, and continued on dancing around in front of her.

Later on, back up at the old schoolhouse which had been converted, and was still essentially the same building which Lucy now owned, she looked over some of her old photos of the Bridges who had come and gone and her mother. Memories. Long and old memories of past friends, good friends. She sat there, somewhat melancholic, and cried after a while. Oh, to see them again. One day, she assumed. Inevitably one day. She would eventually get old – eventually. And go off, then, to the reward in the skies. To be reunited, once again, with lost loves and old and good friends. And, to quote Minxy, even boring ones. Even boring ones as well.

* * * * *

'You guys never get old,' said Minxy to the Extreme Kings, Cooma's worldwide smash rock and roll band of several years ago. They had since retired from the limelight but, having met Lucy Potter, found themselves getting older and older and older yet Summerland never really leaving them, ever, it would seem. They were still never getting old.

'One day, though, you finally will,' said Minxy.

'I'll take that as a compliment,' said the Bass Player.

'He'll die before me,' said the guitarist.

'I'll outlive you all,' replied the drummer.

'And Minxy will probably still be here a thousand years from now, having fun with your great-great etcetera grand-children,' said Lucy.

'Ooh, I hope so. But I don't think I have that long left. I am starting to show a little, you know. There are – slight wrinkles. Daddy is very old now, and doesn't really have long left. But I don't have forever, Lucy Potter. Even Sprites go off to their reward one day.'

'And what is that reward?' asked the Bass player.

'The same as everyone who inherits life eternal. Echoes of life, forever and ever and ever. But every time through, every time we repeat, we continue to learn more and, you know what? So our lore teaches us? You enjoy it more and more every time, even when you have gone over it countless times. Everything you know and treasure becomes immeasurably dear to you. It is life eternal, and it always was the plan of God for it to be a happy one.'

'Fascinating,' said the drummer. 'Tell me more.'

And so Minxy entertained the Extreme Kings all that day with tales from her lore and their beliefs as Sprites, and the band sat listening all day, and Lucy sat there too, lost in her own world of thoughts, about the future, about life and about good friendships. Elect friendships which also had endured the test of time.

* * * * *

Aro sat in his Italian abode. The victim was blindfolded, seated on a chair, awaiting his kidnappers next move.

'What do you want with me?' he finally asked, as his gag had been removed.

'Take him to the turtle room. Undo his hands, and put him at the far end. See if he has any intellect.'

The kidnappers responded to Aro's command, and took the victim to the end of the large hall and opened a complex looking door, which opened into a blue room, with water in the bottom of it, with a spiked pole running along the centre of the room above the water. On the far end of the room was a platform. The kidnappers, thought, hooked themselves into a rail which ran along the top of the room, and pushed a button, as they three of them were hauled to the stand on the opposite side of the room. They undid the victim's hands, and left him there on the stand, returned the way they came, and closed the door.

Daniel, sensing they had gone, took off his blindfold. 'Fuck,' he swore, looking around the room. He looked down, into the water, and there seemed to be creatures at the bottom of it. There were no exits, but across the spiked pole at the other side of the room, from which they had brought him in, was a metal door with intricate looking locks on it. He stood, realized it was probably a challenge, and started carefully making his way across the pole. It wobbled a little, and turned a little, but he made it, avoiding the spikes.

He looked at the locks. There were dials which had numbers, and between each set of 7 dials was a number between them. This could take a while, he thought.

17 hours later he had gone through various ideas, and was thirsty, but the water looked too distasteful to drink. Finally he assumed the number between the dials was the total number of each lock. And, after another 7 hours of combination adjustments, thirsty as anything, he slipped the final dial into the solution, and the door suddenly cranked open.

He walked through, and was in the room he had come from. Aro was at his desk, writing, and there was a lady he didn't recognize sitting next to him.

He came in gingerly, only clothed in his T-Shirt and shorts, with no footwear, and looked at Aro, he looked at him briefly, and returned to his notes. Daniel looked at him and realized the truth – they could do what they wanted with him if they wanted to. He looked around, saw a bench against the wall, and sat down. And waited.

Kristen Stewart looked at Daniel half a dozen times over the next hour and, finally, touched Aro's shoulder gently. 'Well?' she asked him.

Aro looked at her. 'Oh, for heaven's sake. Take him then. We were only having a little fun. Pity you don't appreciate it,' he said with a smirk.

'Daly is very soft,' she replied. 'He has never threatened any of your kind, and never would. You should leave him be.'

Aro looked at Daniel briefly, considered him, and then returned to his notes.

Kristen stood and waved at Daniel to come over.

'Come with me,' she said, and led him outside.

'Its a north Italian village,' she said. 'Do you need any more info than that?'

He looked at her. He didn't know her at all, but something seemed almost familiar.

'No,' he responded and, walking down to the water spire, sipped, waved goodbye to her, and turned northward. He would walk to the UK.

A number of weeks later he was in the flat he owned in London, having a shower and, clean, came out and checked the flat safe. He found some spare ATM debit cards with what would be considerable spare cash in each account, rang Lucy at home, who finally answered later that night.

'Where the hell are you?' she asked him.

'London. It was Aro. Having fun again. He's done this twice now. His idea of a practical joke. I met a lady. She seemed familiar, but I've never met her before. She might be very old also.'

'You coming home?' Lucy asked him.

'Next week. Seeing as I am here, I'm going to Hull for a short holiday. Watch a soccer match and see some relatives.'

'Don't take forever,' said Lucy.

'I won't,' responded Daniel.

* * * * *

'Magic – is Eternal,' said Alfric, puffing on his favourite pipe.

'So our jobs are secure,' responded Darren Merryweather, sitting by the window of Alfric's office in the Canberra Ministry of Magic.

'For the time being. Yet we are in a conundrum – an eternal conundrum. The Ministry of Magic was formed long ago to regulate the affairs of wizards and witches in the old world. To, as it were, bring an aura of respectability to what had become viewed as the domain of evil, the devil of the faith.'

'We draw on Dark Magic,' responded Darren. 'We all know this, deep down. That it is far from divine, the power we use. Yet we use it for good, despite the apparent contradiction.'

'Yet not all of us,' responded Alfric. 'The world these days is beset with figures and organisations which use the power to further no good, but their own ends. And it would seem it is the responsibility of the Ministry of Magic to watch over this and fight against it. We are attempting to make life easier for people with our skills, when they seek us out for employ. Not turn them over to slavery to our will.'

'The Hellfire League. As an example,' prompted Darren.

'And those of Celestevere and the other nethers who still prey upon the children of men.'

'Yet those are fallen,' responded Darren. 'We were born with these gifts within us, inherited from our parents. The netherworld plunged headfirst into the temptations of the Dark Magic.'

'They ate the whole of the forbidden fruit,' said Alfric, and momentarily touched the bible on his desk.

Darren looked squarely at Alfric. 'What are you driving at?'

'The Circle of the Rainbow Coven,' said Alfric.

'And what is that?' asked Darren.

'An idea. An idea I have for the completion of our task. For the winning of our task.'

'Do you care to explain?'

'I have prayed,' said Alfric. 'To God. And put my request to him in writing, and burned it upon an altar in my back yard in Deakin. It had 14 names on it. 14 of the elect ones among us who have survived still to this day. Us of the Aged.'

'And they are the Circle of the Rainbow Coven?' asked Darren.

Alfric nodded.

'And their task?' queried Darren.

And Alfric looked at Darren, and smiled, and touched his bible once more gently, yet spoke not one word more.

*

Lucy sat with Minxy on the sand of the Chakolan fjord, looking out over the countless grains of sand. She sat there, and she felt it. A spirit. An old spirit in the place, hauntingly familiar. A spirit which had been created from though, philosophy, deep contemplation of life and appreciation of God's creation.

'That's Daniel,' said Minxy softly.

'Huh?' asked Lucy.

'I know what you are thinking, Lucy. I can sense your thoughts, sort of. Your aura is making it clear what you are thinking about, and I notice certain familiar energy patterns.'

'I'm not thinking about Daniel,' she said to the sprite.

'You just don't know it. I remember. When he was here. It was before we got active with you, before you were even around hardly. I think he was younger, in his youth sort of, and when Brigid and David had been together just a while. He was down here on the farm, probably having a schizophrenic episode, and he came out here one day. Sat on the sand, and I felt him. It was just like it is around here, and he was perfectly one with the place. And then came in thoughts of God and nature and birds and creation. And spirit – deep spirit. So deep, with a dark undertone of the depression and darkness he had obviously been through. It was so intense. So real. I still feel him, that spirit, wandering around here from time to time. I sense him. And when I see him these days I can tell him still. He's changed, grown older, a lot happier and a lot cheekier. Matured as well. But its still the same Daniel. The same thinker. The same introspection. Its why I love him.'

'You love Daniel?'

'Oh, don't be silly. Not in any way like that. More as a respect for another person. He's wonderful on that deep stuff. Very polished thinker. Shy, in his heart, and nervous about tougher people, especially men. So sensitive. But so deep and thoughtful. He's great to be around.'

'Oh,' said Lucy. 'I have noticed certain things about him.'

'Talk to him sometime. Deeper. Not just superficially. There are reasons for why he is so religious and why he thinks the way he does.'

'I might do that,' said Lucy, and stretched out on the sand.

Beetles ran across her legs, but she didn't mind, as she gazed up at the clouds, and a light shower of rain ran across her. 'Life is good, you know Minx. I don't know, why I am saying this really. Perhaps I am still too young too appreciate it, and in ways I feel so young. Like I am still the witch Lucy Potter, pupil of Shelandragh May, who will one day grow up, but for now is full of spells and books and adventures. But I have grown up, you know. I'm not a little girl anymore. And while so many have gone from my life, off to the great beyond, I feel different for those experiences and different from the rush of fancy I went through growing up. Its not fancy any more. You know. Life. Its not about fancy shmancy, and this and that boyfriend, and even having cool adventures and being a most remarkable witch. Its not about that. Oh, I suppose it can be, if that is what you are looking for and if that is what you are into. I do defend my youth ok. But, I don't know......' she trailed off.

'You are growing up,' said Minxy.

Lucy looked at the sprite. 'Yes. I guess so. Growing up,' she repeated.

'It happens to all of us Lucy Potter. Even one as humble as yourself.'

'Thank you Minxy the Sprite,' she said kindly.

'But I still like the boyfriend bit,' sparkled the sprite, and flew up into the sky, and exploded a lightstorm.

'And I am sure you always will,' said Lucy Potter, and giggled and laughed and laid on her back, happy with everything, happy with Minxy the Sprite and happy with the world.

Chapter 5

Laura Canterbury was a dedicated fan of the Canterbury Bankstown Bulldogs Rugby League side, but only because she was born there, she told people often. Not because of the similar names. Yet she now resided in Cooma, Cooma North to be precise, and was a happy and content 23 year old young woman, in a new town to live life again after some unfortunate encounters in Sydney with boys and their friends which were not in her best interest. Her father had died when she was younger, and her mother was full of depression and drugs and was no good to her and so her sister, who had to take her in said to her one day, 'You gotta run away. To live again. This place will kill you. Henry takes care of me, but those boys you are running with with kill you in the end, sweetie. Marco is lovely, but his mates. Jesus Christ! If they are not in fact mafia, I don't know who is.'

So Laura packed her bag, and kissed her sis, and dropped by her mothers who was too wasted to say anything, and headed for the Central network of trains, and went on a trip.

She ended up in Canberra hours later, and then decided to take a bus further south. The bus stopped at Cooma on its first stop, so she got off, liked a cafe, and decided not to reboard. And there she sat, in the cafe, $200 on her, her suitcase with a change of clothes, and not much else. Just last year.

Today she rented a small flat on Sharp Street which was not too expensive, covered by her Jobsearch allowance from Centrelink, because there never was any work in Cooma, but the rents were affordable. She filled in the form faithfully and lived in her flat and watched her TV till just two weeks ago. Then she met Daniel, who offered her a room in his Cooma North abode, because she had taken an interest in Haven Noahide Fellowship, and the two of them had chatted about this and that, Laura mostly impressed with his ancient collection of Bulldogs trading cards, which must be worth millions she thought to herself. She didn't really know his age. He never really said.

'What is Haven to you, Lucy?' asked Laura.

Lucy looked at their flatmate. 'Something different from the regular. But, these days, the only surviving religion practically anyway. So much worldliness now. So much hatred of God practically, even to mention his name.'

'Aussies don't care about that shit,' said Laura. 'Its old fable. Evolution is fact now, and sin rules.'

'Oh, God. Don't be a fundamentalist,' said Lucy. 'I know people have chosen lifestyles which aren't for the best, but use the 'S' word and its nothing but trouble.'

'The bible is clear,' said Laura. 'That is what it is.'

Lucy began a sermon. 'Life progresses. History moves on. The history of the bible is the spiritual history of that period. But there is more factual and more true history beyond that. Not every spiritual paradigm was represented in that work. There is more to life than whales and lions, dear Laura.'

'Very funny,' said Laura, but smarted a bit from her newborn zeal for the Word.

'Don't be too extreme or you will never get along. Don't compromise your faith, sure. But learn to have a bit of grease to oil the engine, and grease is dirty stuff, ok. Don't be too puritanical or everyone will hate you. That itself is a religious truth we all have come to know.'

Laura looked at Lucy quizzically. 'You seem to talk from a lot of experience.'

'I've been around,' replied Miss Potter.

'Ok. I'll level off a little. Sorry if I offended you.'

'Oh, you didn't offend me Laura Canterbury. Its just that I know many people who you just might tick off, and you wouldn't want that now would you?'

Laura thought on her friends in Sydney and nodded softly.

'Then how do you live your faith?' asked the girl to Lucy.

'By learning what works and what doesn't. By being patient and true and faithful. By being merciful and loving, yet keeping the commands of God and walking with him each day. By keeping the faith in the long walk, Laura Canterbury. By keeping the faith in the long walk.'

'Then that is what I will do,' said Laura, and Lucy looked as the girl lit a cigarette, turned to the TV, and lost interest in the conversation, but with a confidence and a knowingness which Lucy Potter found all too familiar.

*

Decadence was in a mood. 'I can defeat Damien,' she said to Lucy. 'I know it. The power is within me.'

Lucy, sitting in her Cooma address, smoking a cigarette, looked over at the ambitious girl. 'Sometimes, I think, while I was green once, I wasn't stupid. You don't want to mess with Damien Bradlock, Decadence.'

'She's being stupid,' said Laura, looking at her cards in the game of Whist the 4 of them were engaged in.

'She's young and ambitious, aren't you dear,' said Shelandragh, also looking at her cards.

'She's perfect for Haven, then,' said Daniel. 'New blood always means new life, and often a bit of excitement. But don't mess with Bradlock, Decadence. You will find he's a nasty piece of work.'

'Aren't you all bothered by his presence. His constant ability to be able to threaten you all? I would have that dealt with – once and for all,' said the young and ambitious Jane.'

Lucy spoke up. 'We ARE dealing with him. The elect are working him over and we are getting towards a conclusion of things in time. We have eternity ahead of us to deal with Damien,' she responded, puffed on her ciggie, drank some Coke, and looked at her cards.

'All so bloody confident. I'm gonna teach him a lesson.'

'It would be interesting to see who learns their lesson,' said Daniel, and borrowed a ciggie of Lucy's and lit up.

'Yeh, it will,' said Jane, and her idea ticked over yet one more time.

*

Lucy continued walking up Mittagong road. It was beautiful weather, and magpies were all around, some tempted to swoop her, but she was experienced at dealing with them. Swooping magpies happened a lot in Cooma. It had been a busy enough week and she was working at the moment in one of the cafes on Sharp Street for a few months, just to do something new for a while. Laura had been hanging around most days, as had Jane, but Jane wasn't there that morning, so she decided to walk up the road to Danny's to see if she was with him.

She walked up the road, and noticed the sign turning off to Bradley Street and Cooma North. Michael Bradley used to live at Number 6, and she could see the house just from where she was. Funnily, in the 1980s, Daniel also lived at the same address, for he grew up in Berridale and then Cooma. But it was a small town, a small world in many ways and she was used to many coincidences now. She often wondered what happened to Michael Bradley, how he ended up. She'd never really seen him after a certain point and life just drifted on. But that was what it was like – life. Drifts on. Things come in and become dreams, and so do other things and while some dreams live on, some dreams die. But that was just life. You want along with the eternal, which is why she went with Daniel now. He was eternal. She believed this. It was the Rainbow Covenant – an Eternal Covenant – and she would never shift from that truth. All other religions were forgotten now, for she was grounded on Karaite Noahide faith and the the Rainbow Bibles, and would stick with them for all eternity. All her prayers had been built on this foundation and she was happy. She would never leave it now.

She continued up the road, passed the various schools, and got to Daniel's house. The door was open, and she found Daniel in the kitchen drinking coffee.

'You seen Decadence?' she asked casually.

He shook his head.

Lucy looked at him. 'Well?' she asked him.

'I don't know. Maybe she is at her place.'

'Oh, fuck it. Ok, can you drive me. I walked.'

'Sure,' he said, sipping on his coffee. When they got to Jane's place, it was empty, with nobody home.

'Where is she?' asked a perplexed Lucy.

'Let's try the town,' said Daniel.

After a few hours of searching in vain, they agreed to go to Shelandragh's. That should have been one of the first places to check. They had tried her mobile many times, but Jane had not answered.

They got to Bunyan, and Shelandragh just looked at them with a confused look on her face.

Daniel looked at Lucy, suddenly remembering a conversation. 'She hasn't, has she? Gone off Devil hunting?'

'Oh, for Jesus' sake,' said Shelandragh. 'Come inside. I need to think.'

They called Laura first of all, who said she hadn't seen her, and then they began to worry.

After some consideration, Shelandragh suggested a Septacle be formed to locate the girl. As the afternoon wore on, Lucy was growing in concern, but tried to calm down watching the afternoon TV lying against Daniel, who seemed ever more comforting.

Shelandragh came in around 6 and said the Septacle was ready and that they would start at Midnight.

'I have a bad feeling,' said Lucy, 'that she is not in the best of places. A really bad feeling, Shellie.'

'Don't worry,' said Shelandragh May. 'Just trust, you know. Just trust.'

Midnight – they began the work of the spell – and when Shelandragh came out of it, she looked a them both. 'Hellfire League Castle!' she said, and instantly vomited on the ground.

*

They were all gathered in Canberra, at Alfric's place. 'I go. Alone,' said Lucy. First to Harry's. Then I will be back here soon. Don't do anything, ok. He wants me. He has always wanted me.'

Daniel spoke up. 'Then don't you think you should be the last person we surrender to him?'

'That's life, isn't it Danny. It has a fate to it. A destiny. We can't always escape it. We never really can, in the end. It catches us up when it needs to. We may delay things for a while, but destiny always has the last word. I'll be ok. Back before you know it.'

The gathered ones were sombre, and as Lucy went, Daniel went to the front window, and watched as she drove away. 'God be with you, Luce,' he said softly. 'God be with you.'

*

Yet she didn't go to Harry's. She went straight to the Hellfire League castle. It was open, and as she wandered in she couldn't help but believe it was a trap. Suddenly the Jester appeared.

'You again. Freak,' said Lucy.

'Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. What a fine maiden we have for our entertainment. Gosh, I'm glad you showed up sweetheart. What would we do without you?'

'Were's Decadence?'

'Humph. I would have worried more about my own flesh and blood, but fair enough.'

Lucy ignored that statement.

'Follow me,' said the Jester, and led her on pathway into the heart of the Hellfire League castle.

When they had travelled down into the guts of the castle, they came to a room, and entered. The queen was there, with a child. And suddenly Lucy recognized it. 'JENNY!' she screamed. 'Give me my child!' she yelled at the Queen.

The King sudden was in front of her.

'Now, now, Lucy Potter. I told you we would have the final say. If you want your child back, challenge me.'

Lucy glared at the King.

'Does the maiden Challenge?' asked the Jester?'

'The maiden challenges,' responded Lucy, looking with concern towards her child.

'Read this,' said the Jester, and flicked a booklet at her with 'Rules' written on the cover. 'You can sit there. In the corner,' said the Jester. 'Your kid is fine. Read the rules, and then we have our fun.'

And as Lucy read, keeping a careful eye on Jenny, who did seem to be mostly ok, she knew that her fate depended on her understanding what she was reading, so she concentrated, and read, and tried her best to understand the complex game of life she had suddenly found herself dealing with.

Chapter Six

Time was ticking.

‘I have you,’ said Lucy, smiling at the King of the Hellfire League.  ‘You only have one move left, and then I can checkmate you.  You have to make it as well.’

‘It would appear so, young Lucy.  But, dare I say, did you read the rules?’

‘I read them,’ she responded.

‘And how much time do we each have per move?’

She thought about it.  ‘7 minutes, as I recall.’

‘And how much time is left on the game clock?’

She looked at him, suddenly nervous, and looked at the clock.

‘Six and a half minutes,’ she responded.

‘And in the case of a draw?’ he smiled, looking at his opponent.

She didn’t know.  She picked up the rule book and, coming to the passage, read:

‘In the case of a Draw, the challenger to the King acknowledges, in their own signed blood, they agree to the King retaining his prize for a period no less than 12 years.  Further, the challenger may be made an example of, in the customary manner, yet not unto any pain or death.’

‘Bastard,’ she said, as the king lit his cigar, and the time ran out.

Jenny, over in the corner, being nursed by the queen, burped, and cried a little, but was subdued by the queen.

‘But, she’s my baby,’ said Lucy forlornly.

‘In 12 years,’ responded the King.  ‘You will honour our agreement, won’t you?’

Lucy looked at the signed document, signed with her own blood.  She glared at him, yet acquiesced.  ‘I will,’ she finally said, defeated.

And, as the time ran out, the King gathered up his robes.  ‘I believe you are at our good pleasure.’

Silence, as the Queen nursed Jenny, and the King smoked his cigar.

‘What?’ Lucy finally screamed, dejected.

‘Them,’ said the King, indicating with his thumb.

And there stood Damien Bradlock, Lucifer Malfoy and the Malevolent Grimlock.  Lucy almost swore.

‘You have 10 minutes, and they have a spell on you,’ said the King.  ‘A tracker.  You can’t hide, now.  So go.  Get.’

Lucy glared at the King and, giving one last forlorn look at Lucy, looked at the Dark lords of evil, and skidaddled.

Out in the outer chamber she cast her relocate portal spell, and found herself at Alfric’s in Canberra, in his lounge.  Shelandragh, Darren, Daniel and Alfric were all there, and Alexander Darvanius was seated, chatting pleasantly, so it seemed.

‘Heaven’s above!’ exclaimed Shelandragh.  ‘Where the hell have you been, Lucy?’

‘No time to explain,’ said Lucy.  ‘They have a tracking spell on me.’

‘Who?’

‘Who else,’ she responded.

‘Mmm.  We need to get to a high place. Above the general wavelengths of magic in Canberra.  It’s not as old here.  Hasn’t built up yet.  We can void the tracking spell if we get high enough,’ said Alfric.

‘Where?’ Lucy asked.

Alfric turned his head, as all did, and they gazed, northwards from Deakin, up towards the Centre of Canberra.  Towards Black Mountain.  And the tower – Telstra tower – which loomed over the city.

As they drove, hurriedly, Daniel sat nervously next to Lucy in their Car.

‘Don’t worry, Luce,’ he said.  ‘They won’t get you.  Not again.’

‘They already have,’ she said dejectedly, thinking on Jenny.  And, breaking the speed limit, Lucy drove ahead of those following, making it to the tower with Daniel first.

They stood in the carpark, near the entrance, waiting.

‘No time,’ said Lucy.  ‘I think I know what to do anyway,’ and they entered the building, which was very quiet that Sunday afternoon, barely a soul in sight, and took the lift to the main deck.

And there, as they came into the large cafeteria, stood Decadence.

‘How did you get here?’ Lucy asked her.

From the side, they came into view.  ‘We brought her,’ said Damien Bradlock.

Lucy glared at Lucifer Malfoy.  ‘Loyal.  Yeh right, Lucifer.  You never gave a damn.’

He just shrugged.

Daniel stood in front of Lucy, acting bravely, but Grimlock came forward and, after a tussle, banged Daniel on the head, who went down, unconscious.

Lucy pointed her wand and cast a fireball spell, and Decadence broke loose, running out to the lookout.

‘We have something planned for you,’ said Damien.  ‘Something I have been planning a long time.  And, he glared at her, yet turned, and went out to the balcony, leaving Lucy with Grimlock and the rest.

‘You can’t escape, bitch,’ said Grimlock.

‘We have you at last,’ said Voldemort, glaring at her.

Suddenly, out on the balcony, a huge explosion, and the whole barrier was blown away which guarded the edge of the lookout.  Lucy ran.

Decadence stood there, and it had started raining, and the sky was getting suddenly dark.

‘Where is he?’ Lucy asked.

Decadence pointed.  Damien had climbed up to an upper rampart which surrounded the tower a little higher up, and had his hands raised.

Suddenly, the wind went wild and orange and red sparks started flying wildly from Damien’s hands, towards the north.  And then, you could see it.  In the distance.  A vortex opening up in the north, flickering red and orange.

‘I think, this is it,’ said Decadence.  ‘The devil’s final move.  I suppose you will have to take it from here.  Animus is finished.  It can’t fight Damien.  It never could.’

Lucy nodded.

It always came down to this in the end.  Lucy versus the dark lords of evil.  Always her in the end.  Always.

She looked up at Damien, and started following, climbing up a ladder, and getting ready, in her heart, for the final confrontation.

For the final wrath of Darkness.

Decadence watched as Lucy climbed, and prayed a silent prayer for her.

‘You think that will work?’ asked a voice.

Decadence turned.

It was Alexander.  Somehow he had gotten ahead of the others, and stood there, for his final victory perhaps.  For his final gloat.

‘Go to hell, Alexander!’ she yelled at him, but he said nothing, and just lit a cigarette, taking in the view.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Finally!’ yelled Shelandragh, as they came into the carpark.

‘Where are they?’ queried Darren.

‘There,’ said Alfric, pointing upwards.

Up, above them, the wind was howling madly and the rain was getting more and more fierce, and it was turning dark.  And there, up at the top of the tower, Damien Bradlock, hand’s raised, wild and dark magic spewing forth from him, summoning a great beast.  A great maelstrom.

They looked northwards, and it was slowly approaching.  Dark red and orange, with black from the deepest parts of hell.  Slowly approaching the tower.  Slowly approaching for the final wrath of Satan.

‘We have to get up there,’ yelled Darren.

‘I know,’ said Shelandragh, but in her heart she knew.  This was it.  Lucy’s final test.  Lucy’s final challenge.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucy had climbed up and was on the other side of the rampart, looking at Damien.  He glared at her from time to time, but was concentrating on his work.  She turned, and looked northwards.  A maelstrom.  A maelstrom of cold dark hate.  All the years of anger.  All the years of darkness.  All the years of wrath.

Damien Bradlock’s final vengeance.

She looked at it and looked at Damien and, for once, almost pitied him.  Almost pitied the cold hard soul which knew nothing of love, nothing of kindness, nothing of truth.

‘Poor Damien,’ she thought to herself.  ‘Poor Damien.  Poor, poor, Damien.’

*   *   *   *   *

Decadence stood on the edge of the platform.  The whole barrier that guarded the lookout section had been blown away by Damien’s dark magic, and he was still there, on the tower above, hands raised skywards.  The wind and rain had been getting even more furious, and slowly the dark maelstrom from the north was approaching.  The lightning storm was getting more and more majestic, and as the maelstrom approached, orange and dark red flickering bolts started emerging from it.

‘You die, Lucy!’ shouted the devil at his adversary.

Lucy stood her ground on the other side of the small rampart which ran around the tower, staring fiercely at her greatest nemesis.

Alexander continued to smoke his cigarette, gazing up at Damien, and looked over at Decadence.  ‘The bastard was too much for you, wasn’t he?  You thought you had him worked out.  That you could control that Animus within you, but it’s no fucking match for the dark magic.  Not if you want to get serious sweetheart.’

‘Fuck you!’ shouted Decadence, at Alexander, but he just grinned at her, enjoying the show.

Grimlock came out onto the platform, and gazed at the girl.  ‘Kill her,’ he said to Alexander.

Alexander looked at him.  ‘Mmm.  No.  Not my code.  I’m here to watch Damien claim his belated victory.  If he can.’

Grimlock glared evil at him, and looked at Decadence.  ‘Then I’ll kill the bitch.’

Down at the entrance to the tower, Darren, Alfric and Shelandragh were doing their best, but couldn’t find any way to open the door, and magic wasn’t working.

‘It’s just too fierce,’ said Shelandragh.  ‘To rise up with a broomstick won’t work.  His magic is just too fierce.’

‘He’s the Lord of Evil,’ said Darren.  ‘What do you expect?’

Lucifer came out onto the platform, then, and looked as Grimlock approached his girl.

‘Don’t try and stop me,’ said Grimlock.  ‘I know you have feelings for her now.’

Lucifer didn’t say anything, but just watched.  Daniel, still nursing the blow to the head from Grimlock, emerged also, and looked at his enemy, approaching Decadence.  And he looked at Lucifer.

‘So, Malfoy.  When it all comes down to it, you really are evil, aren’t you?’

Lucifer looked at him, and looked at Decadence.  He loved her.  He knew it.  But his allegiance to Damien was ancient.

Daniel grabbed Grimlock, when a bolt from Voldemort sent him flying through the air, as the Dark Lord emerged onto the platform.

‘You won’t win, you know,’ said Lucy, wand ready, glaring at Damien.  ‘Evil never wins.  In the end.  It never does.  You could kill me, you know.  You could kill all of us.’

‘And I will,’ said Damien, glaring at her.

‘Yes.  You might.  But even then you won’t win.  Someone will rise up.  A champion.  And send you to hell.  It always happens.  Always.’

He glared at her, and looked upwards, spending his ancient wrath of dark magic on the approaching maelstrom.

Down below Darren had grabbed a crowbar from the van and had managed to get the ground door open.  The lift was no use, so they climbed the stairs.

‘Ready to die?’ Grimlock queried Decadence.

‘Not before you,’ she replied, spitting on the ground in front of her.

‘She is a feisty one,’ said Voldemort.

Alexander watched on, amused.

‘You know.  I pity you, Damien,’ said Lucy.  ‘You don’t really know much love, do you?  You probably never really cared much about anyone, did you?’

‘The domain of God and his angels,’ replied Damien.  ‘Not my style.’

‘No.  No, it wouldn’t be.’

He glared at her, as the maelstrom continued to approach, the cascading darkness and lightstorm seen all around Canberra.

‘It’s never too late, though,’ she continued.  ‘To admit it.  That you need somebody.  That you need – love.’

Damien looked at her.  ‘It’s for fools,’ he said, eventually, in a softer tone.  ‘I did, once, Lucy.  But she went from me.  Love dies in the end.  It always has.  Always will.’

‘Then love again,’ she said to him.

Alexander finished his cigarette, started another one, when Shelandragh, Darren and Alfric emerged.

‘You know, at the end of it all.  When you have done all your evil, and had all your wicked way, what then?  Who will be your friend?  Lucifer?  Voldemort?  Alexander?  You will only end up killing each other.  There’s a better way.  There always has been.’

‘Shut up,’ said Damien.

‘Just let it go.  All the hate in you.  All the evil.  All the resentment of God.  Just let it go.  It only eats at you.  Only eats at your heart, and all the supposed truths you believe in, that make Damien Bradlock tick.’

‘Babe.  If you only knew,’ he said, and renewed his focus on the maelstrom.

‘Then tell me,’ she said.

He looked at her.

‘Drop it,’ said Darren, aiming his wand at Voldemort.

‘You can’t take both of us,’ said Alfric.

Voldemort considered his foes, and lowered his wand.

Decadence managed to get to her feet, and glared at Grimlock, as Shelandragh slowly came and stood next to her.  ‘It’s over, Grimlock,’ she said, looking at him.

He growled at her, but made no move.

Alexander looked on amused.

‘Evil is all I know,’ said Damien.  ‘It’s all I serve. And I gave up caring a long time ago, Lucy Potter.  There is no point, in the end.  It’s an idiots game, and I may as well get my kicks before the Most High one finally gets sick of me once and for all.’

‘Then get over it,’ she said.  ‘And try again.  Try letting that light in, that you have pushed away for so long.’

He looked at her, long and hard he looked at her, and then lowered his arms.

The maelstrom continued whirling, fiercely, but gradually, as Damien sank to his knees, it started receeding.

‘What’s his problem?’ queried Voldemort, looking up at the display.

‘She’s got to him,’ said Shelandragh.

‘Nonsense,’ said Voldemort, but looked cautiously at Shelandragh.

In the mind of Damien Bradlock a decision had been made.  It wasn’t about what Lucy had said.  Nothing like that.  It was a decision, made in the last number of years, that, in the end, evil didn’t really have much point either.  God was a shmuck, but the Devil was no better.  His own sense of ethic, if you could call it that, served no great purpose.  And he didn’t even get a kick out of it anymore.

He looked at Lucy.  ‘You win,’ he said, and cast a portal spell in front of them.

‘Where are you going?’ Lucy asked him.

The Devil gave one last look at his adversary.  ‘Away from here, Lucy Potter.  And I don’t know if I will see you again.  For I don’t know if I even care any more.’

And a tear formed in Damien’s eye as he looked at the girl who taught him the final lesson in his repentance, stepped through the portal, and was gone.

‘Humph,’ said Voldemort.

‘She got to him,’ said Grimlock.

The two dark lords of evil looked at their adversaries and then, Voldemort gathering up his pride, lifted his cloak, walked past Shelandragh and Darren, and with Grimlock following, the two of them were never seen again.

‘We let them go,’ queried Darren.

‘They’re a spent force,’ said Shelandragh.  ‘I don’t think they will be much of a threat any more.’

‘Thank God for that,’ said Daniel, nursing a broken arm, but grinning none the less.

‘Do you have anything to say?’ Alfric asked Alexander.

‘I have not interfered in these proceedings.  Just came to watch.’

‘We know,’ said Shelandragh, as she looked up at Lucy who was climbing down the tower.

‘You could have intervened,’ said Darren to Alexander.

‘If I really thought any actions were necessary, I might have done something.  It seems to have resolved itself.’

Lucy ran up to Decadence, and hugged her.

‘Have we seen the last of him, then?’ Shelandragh asked her.

Lucy Potter looked at Shelandragh May, and looked at Lucifer, standing there, not seeming to be threatening anybody.  ‘What the hell is your problem, huh?’ she asked him.

Lucifer walked over to Decadence, kissed her on the cheek, and smiled at Lucy.

‘You know me, Babe.  A devil to the end.’  But he winked at her, and pinched Decadence’s butt, who hit him in the arm, and as they made their way back inside the tower, he turned to Lucy, gave her a wink, and you could hear his laughter trail off, as the show came to an end.

Lucy noticed Daniel’s broken arm.  ‘Oh, Danny,’ she said, suddenly concerned.

‘I’m ok,’ he said.

‘Shall I?’ she asked, holding her wand ready to heal him.

‘I’ll be ok.  Natural healing.  You know me.’

‘Don’t I,’ she responded.

‘Well that ends that,’ said Darren and, as the maelstrom disappeared back north from whence it came, normality returned to central Canberra and, as Lucy Potter drove her man home, who was sitting in the front seat next to her, she smiled and thought on Damien and his final choice.

For perhaps Lucifer had indeed been redeemed.

Perhaps.

Chapter Seven

Dark Days.  Lonely days.  Heavy days.  Sad days.

‘I miss her,’ she said.

‘I know,’ responded Daniel.

**

‘Why a Cathedral?’

‘Why not,’ responded Daniel.

‘You haven’t enough converts,’ stated Lucy flatly.

‘Actually.  I do.  There are 457 in the Monaro.’

She looked at him, for once surprised.

‘Well they certainly don’t come to fellowship hall.’

‘That is just Haven Noahide.  The other’s don’t have a hall.  It’s been quiet on that.’

‘Where?’

‘Springstone.  It’s a property I own.  Formerly known as Cloyne.  I bought it several years ago.’

‘I know Cloyne,’ she responded.  ‘Roses.’

‘Yes.  There’s room for a Cathedral.  I will call it Springstone Cathedral.  It is where 7DF will assemble.’

‘Mmm,’ she nodded.

Dark Days.  Lonely days.  Heavy days.

Sad days.

*

The Cathedral, now completed after 3 years of building, was quite impressive.  It had been an overtime project, with a gazillion employees from all over the world, all working in harmony, all working to get the job done quickly.

‘Took em centuries, once,’ said Daniel.

‘I know,’ responded Lucy.

‘You’re sad,’ he said.

‘I miss her.’

‘7 more years,’ he replied.

‘She won’t even remember me,’ said Lucy.

‘She will.  She will know.  They always do.  In the end.’

They sat in the Cathedral, 14 weeks, each morning, Daniel and Lucy came and prayed.  Nobody else.  Then the first assembly.  Over 500 in attendance.  It was – intense.

But she would not be consoled.

Laura started the conversation.  ‘You know, Lucy.  Life goes on.  Cheer up.  It has its down time, yes.  But there are good days.  She’ll be back before you can blink.’

‘Rebecca,’ said Lucy.

Laura looked at her two year old playing in the playground of the Cathedral.

‘She will always know you.  My Jenny.  She won’t.  I feel it.  In my heart.  She’s gone from me.  Her love has left me.  Found another home.’

Laura put her arm around Lucy’s shoulder.  And then the tears came.  And they did not stop.

**

Lucy looked at the Cathedral.  It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was setting.  She had juice.  Apple juice with her, and a snack.  She wasn’t hungry.  But she drank the juice and sat there.  Silent.  Quiet.

The wind blew.  Warm and gentle, late Spring wind.  And everything was peaceful.  Everything was good.

‘You miss her,’ said a voice inside her.

‘Like nothing else.’

‘You gave your word, though.’

She did not reply.

‘Very well.  It is broken on your behalf.’

Lucy did not know who was talking inside her, but felt better.  A wave of love ran over her, and she sat there, in the wind, the gentle wind, and looked at the Cathedral.  It was beautiful.  An old design, with gargoyles and archangels.  But it was beautiful.

‘Mummy?’

Lucy turned.  The girl looked about 8.

‘Mummy?’ she queried.  Then Daniel let her go, and she walked over to Lucy.

Lucy watched, as the child sat down on her knee, and rested on her.  She looked at Jenny.  She looked at her daughter.

And then she looked at the Cathedral, and then Daniel, and then Jenny again.

‘I asked him nicely.  The King.  Said they were finished with her.’

Lucy nodded, softly.

Then she held her child.

And softly wept.

And softly wept.

And softly wept.

THE END OF THE LUCY POTTER SEPTET