Helen

Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies! --Christopher Marlowe, The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus

Cht. 1

Helen Morgan shifted in her bed, sleepy gray eyes fluttering, not wanting to fully awaken yet. Vivid images of her dream flitted across her mind, scattering like dragonflies over a disturbed pond. The constant thought tracing itself through those fleeting pictures was that energy is neither created…nor destroyed. And what had been cast away could always, always, be brought back.

She knew, with a surety in the very essence of her being, what she must do. Though the hour was early yet, she stood and paced before the windowed wall whose darkening blinds eclipsed the cityscape beyond her balcony. Helen hesitated only a moment before picking up the phone and calling her assistant's voicemail.

"Ramsey, sorry for the early hour," she said, "I got called away early and I'll be on the first flight out to Boston. Do me the hugest favor and clear my schedule for the next week or so; also call my mother and tell her I'll be away, but that I'll be in touch soon. And please, please, contact Hera Solon and tell her I won't be able to make the benefit after all. Be sure to send her a bouquet with my apologies."

Within the hour, she had secured a first-class ticket to Boston, packed a bag, and breakfasted. By the time the sun rose, she was on her second cup of a freshly ground Kopi Luwak. Vendors were still opening their security gates on the street level when she exited the building and hailed a cab. Three hours after that she was already peering over a cloud bank knowing that she was chasing an errand from the Fates that could be a completely futile effort if she failed in even one small aspect.

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Barely three weeks later she stood at the center of a hedge maze at the back of her parents' property in the Hamptons. Three others stood in a solemn ring as she began to trace a circle in the sand around them, a gleaming short sword reflecting the torches that demarcated the compass points of the large ring of hedges.

"Will this work without the other," the other woman present queried softly. "The ritual itself will work, yes," Helen replied wanly, "but how effective this whole plan will be…of that I am unsure. Optimally we would have all four, but even without, we must do something."

"If the situation is as dire as you say, then something has to be done and I'll see it through or be damned," replied one of the men, a Marine. Helen smiled grimly behind a cascade of jet black fringe. He was the perfect vessel, standing unconsciously at attention by the southernmost torch. Her smile faltered a bit as she neared the eastern point where no one stood. Even as she hesitated though, he stepped from the shadows of the maze. The last vessel.

"If this really is as dire as you say," he added, his chin set, "then we all might just go up in flames."

"Then too," he added, his bow-shaped mouth quirking up in a grin, "we can really screw with these bastards' heads just by showing up."

Helen's smile was quick, her laugh heartfelt. "We do definitely have the advantage of surprise. I'm glad you've changed your mind. Now step in so we can continue and with the gods' assistance, save the world!"

"Oh is that all?" he grinned, waving a hand as if it were a trifle. "Yeah, I'm game." With that, he stepped up and she closed the circle around him.

Making her way to the center of the circle, she raised both hands as the flames of the small bonfire she'd made swept higher with the arc of her arms. As she dropped them, the flames died to a smolder, and she loosened a bag tied at her hip, shaking handfuls of bay, wormwood, and yew over the embers. A spicy, bitter smoke curled up toward the heavens and she stepped back to the outer ring she had traced with the sword. This time, with salt taken from the Aegean, she ringed her guests and herself with another layer of protection. Finally, lifting an earthenware jug that sat next to the fire, she poured a small stream of holy water around the vessels and herself.

Raising her hands again, she tipped her head back to the darkened moon above. Perfect time for a little necromancy, she thought. "Goddess Hecate," she called, "patroness of the Underworld, hear my call, I invoke thee. Persephone, keeper of the dead, traveler between the worlds, aid your daughter, bring them to me."

A flash of light answered, followed by a distant boom, as Helen knelt to retrieve a small vial that sat warming by the fire. She tipped a bit of the oil it contained onto her finger and drew a sigil on the forehead of each vessel. Once the task was complete, she lightly kissed the lips of each, saying simply, "I awaken thee." A twinkle of mischief lit up the eastern vessel's eye as she approached. He stood quietly as she anointed him, but caught her elbows and pulled her in for a smacking kiss, earning him a startled gasp. She swatted him lightly before continuing on and again returning to the fire.

Raising her hands once more she called, "guardians of the watchtowers, beings of light, I summon you thus. From vessels departed, to vessels return,. Children of the gods, ancient souls, rise. Meet your earthly representatives who offer themselves that you may walk the earth again to slay that which would destroy it. Angel Uriel of the north," she called, "light of God, angel of repentance, holder of the key to the Pit, be here now."

Edging her way to the east, she intoned, "Angel Gabriel, angel of the east, messenger of god, deliverer of truth, be here now." Moving to the south, she continued, "Angel Michael, warrior angel, protector and leader of the army of God, be here now."

In completing the circle, she came to the woman, who had up to that point been known as Jude, "Angel Raphael," she invoked, "God's healer, binder of demons, of the merciful and charitable, be here now."

Turning back to the center, she clapped both hands above her head, echoed by the rolling thunder. "As Persephone returns you, as Hecate I do bid you, all ye hence will retain memory of the vessels that were in your flesh, that their lives, trials and loves may censure your very impulse to disregard the fragile humanity that contains you. May you meld, and in this incarnation, may you come to understand and sympathize with their plight. So be it."

With another clap of thunder, the spirit of the goddess departed, leaving Helen weak as a newborn. Her knees buckled as the rain started, vanquishing the smoldering fire in a hiss. She raised her head once, her head swimming from the exertion, and saw the people she had brought with her blinking stupidly in what was quickly becoming a downpour, before she blissfully blacked out, completely drained. In doing so, she missed the first words one of them spoke. Her reluctant angel, who slowly smiled as the others disappeared from sight in a rustle of wings, turned around the circle once and quirked a brow. "We're baaaaack," he mocked.