One of the most popular religious myths is that of angels not only as Guardians of the living but as Guardians of a mystical, mythical Vessel that is said to contain all human souls while in the stage commonly referred to as “limbo.” Texts abound documenting the whereabouts of this Vessel, and references have gone so far as to say that the graced angels, as a way of keeping the Vessel safe from the clutches of the fallen, will hide the Vessel as they say “in plain sight.” Each iteration of the so-called Vessel of Souls is protected by a Guardian—a human graced and chosen by “higher” mythical authorities, charged with the protection and care of the Vessel. According to legend, the Vessel’s shape can shift and the Vessel itself can take any form. I have done exhaustive research on the Vessel of Souls and have documented here the many iterations of the Vessel and its legions of human Guardians.
From a scroll found embedded in the wall of an Irish monastery, circa 1216, we find that the Vessel of Souls has taken the shape of an emerald that has been embedded in a necklace worn by a noble woman. In 1481, the Vessel turns up in Italy, where it has taken on the guise of a painting (La Primavera ) by “Vessel Guardian” Sandro Botticelli.
I blinked up at Will. “Did you know Sandro Botticelli?”
Will nodded, his eyes wide as saucers; the gold flecks were dancing and alive. “Sandro was my great-, great-, great-grandfather. Times fifty.” He managed to get the majority of his statement out before collapsing into ridiculous guffaws.
“This is serious!”
“No, love,” Will said, shaking his head and using the heel of his hand to wipe at his moist eyes. “This is bollocks. Harley doesn’t have the foggiest what he’s talking about, so he just spews. It’s not like anyone’s going to call him on it.”
I shrugged, considering, while Will took the open book from Vlad’s hands. He read to himself, then snorted. “According to old Harley, you were an organ in a Roman Catholic church, a crumbling penny fountain in a small town in Greece, and a paper crane in Japan.”
“Why is that so funny?”
“Because everyone knows the ‘crumbling penny fountain’ was at a Golfland and the paper crane thing? Way off. It was an actual crane in Detroit, back in ’71.”
“Did you learn all of this in Guardian school?”
Will raised an annoyed eyebrow and went back to reading the book; Vlad scanned the text while looking over his shoulder.
“This book is great,” Vlad said, sharp edges of his fangs showing through his goofy, happy-vamp grin.
“Really?” I asked.
Vlad nodded. “Think about it. We’re not exactly the kind of people who want our existences documented. So the way I see it, Harley is doing us a favor.”
Will shrugged and snapped the book shut. “Sounds about right to me. Now who’s up for a pint?”
I looked at Vlad and then at Will; for the first time since I’d known them, they seemed to be in relative agreement. Leave it to them to agree on the one thing that pissed me off.
“But it’s all lies!” I hated how whiny I sounded, and I knew, intellectually, that Vlad was right. Another person debunking ghost myths, or laughing at those of us who considered the idea of “others” among us, actually did help the Underworld inhabitants far more than a book confirming their existence ever would.
Right?
Nina came outside then, carrying a stack to her nose of Harley’s books.
“Did you buy all those?” I asked.
Nina grinned. “Yep. I’m supporting my man. I think they’ll make excellent Christmas gifts.”
“Leave me off your list,” I said. “Can we just get out of here?”
“Yeah,” Nina said, “we need to get home and straighten up the place. Harley and Roland should be there in about a half hour.”
“You invited Harley and Roland to our house? Where we live? Actually, where I live and you cease to live?”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Really, Sophie, you can be so close-minded sometimes. Harley is really a great guy. He just happens to have a different way of viewing things. Cut him some slack, okay?”
I felt my lips kick up into a ridiculous, incredulous smile. “A different way of viewing things?”
Nina blinked at me, arms crossed, and I did the same. Finally I sucked in a large breath of what I hoped was calming air. All it did was highlight the fact that my ears were blowing steam.
“You know what? I’ll meet you at home. I’m going to walk.”
“You can’t walk alone,” Will said.
“Is that spoken in your official guardianship capacity?”
“Nope.” He tossed Harley’s book to Vlad and slung an arm across my shoulders. “I can’t be official when I’m nonexistent, now can I?” He eyed me, a mischievous grin playing on the edges of his lips. “Now, how about that pint?”
Chapter Thirteen