The Celestial Gate by Avital Dicker (red white royal blue txt) 📗

which to stand. Instead, she met nothing but thin air. She lost her footing and began hurtling through the darkness at breakneck speed.

Someone grabbed her in midair. She came to a sudden stop, then felt herself being lifted into the air once again. When she opened her eyes she found herself looking directly at a very large angel who was towering over her, his face crimson with rage. She deduced from the rank on his uniform that he was most likely the angel in charge.

“Always the same story,” he spewed angry words that flickered in the air in front of her. “Always trying to outsmart us. Always leaving the line and asking unnecessary questions.” He waved a long, white-gloved finger threateningly in front of her face.

White smoke rose from his thin wings. He deftly navigated his way between the stars above the dock and soon began his descent back to the hall to the spot from where she had fled. Anise looked despairingly at the earth rotating in the center and the mass of robes flapping around it in an effort to catch up. “Please sir, I need to speak to God,” she implored.

“Save it for next time,” he sneered in contempt. “You almost missed The Draw because of your little adventure. Next time, try to remember that it never works. I’ve had enough of pulling you out of the darkness every single reincarnation. Now run along with all the others.” Still hovering in the air, he loosened his hold and dropped Anise, who landed with a light bump on the soft floor. She watched Niagara Falls cascade as they passed her by. Canada’s not a bad option, she tried to console herself, frustrated at her failed attempt.

Yam

Yam was the only one who had noticed Anise slipping away and sprinting off into the distance. He was furious with her but couldn’t help admiring her courage. It’s true that she often acts foolishly, like she just did. But when all was said and done, he had to admit that her passion was one of the things he loved most about her. He fought the urge to run after her and pull her back into the race, knowing it would be pointless. Anise always did exactly what she wanted.

For as long as he could remember, Anise had the infuriating ability to make him smile, but it also took very little effort on her part to drive him out of his mind, just as she was doing now. He bit his lower lip in frustration. Why does she always think she has to save the world?

In general, Yam wasn’t a big talker. He mostly kept to himself and found it hard to express his feelings. But with Anise there was no need for words. She could read him like an open book.

“Ouch,” he let out a yell when a particularly pudgy boy stepped on his foot as he ran past. He wanted to kill Anise. She knew they had to stick together if they wanted to be sent to the same country; it was their only chance of finding each other on Earth. And now, of all times, she disappears. He heard the trumpet, followed by the sound of the gong echoing across the hall. The racket stopped at once and was replaced by a nervous hush. Yam scanned the crowd for Mor. They had to find Anise before it was too late. He watched as a group of children started to rise up in the air above China, the country highlighted in blue, and felt relief wash over him when it was clear that Mor wasn’t among them.

Mor

Mor stopped. The boy ahead of him stumbled, entangled in a robe that was several sizes too big. “Don’t move,” chuckled Mor, unraveling the oversized cloth that had wrapped itself around the boy’s legs. “It’s about time they replaced these old robes. They’ve lost their elasticity and there’s always been a problem with the sizes,” he smiled and gave the boy an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“Anise!” he suddenly heard Yam’s voice calling to her in the distance. Mor spun around in the direction of his voice. What had she done this time, he wondered, smiling to himself? Yam must be furious.

“Thank you,” said the boy, as he straightened his robe and gave his limbs a good stretch. Mor didn’t hear the rest, he was already making his way to Yam. In almost every incarnation, the body he got was slightly shorter than the one Yam was assigned, and sometimes it bothered him. But Mor felt a deep love for his friend, despite the fact that Yam took life so annoyingly seriously and was taller than him in most lives. In contrast to Yam’s serious nature, Mor was always up for a good laugh or a bit of mischief, and perhaps these differences were precisely what made their close friendship possible, he thought.

Out of breath, Mor stopped next to Yam just as Anise landed nearby with a gentle thump. White sparks flew in every direction.

“You went on your wild God goose-chase again, didn’t you?” laughed Mor, ignoring the murderous look Anise sent him in reply. The two boys helped her up.

“If you say ‘I told you so,’ you’re a dead man,” Anise warned Mor, who, exercising every ounce of self-restraint, managed to stifle his laughter.

“We have to get moving,” said Yam, trying to keep his anger at bay. The risk Anise had taken had almost cost them a lifetime apart. She had no right to do that. But Yam knew that now wasn’t the time for an argument. First, they had to make sure they found a good country. He took a deep breath, and the three of them joined the race.

Anise

Anise ran quickly alongside Canada, panting with the effort as she tried not to lag behind Yam and Mor. She hoped she wouldn’t lose them in the throng of flapping robes, but a sharp pain in her hip forced her to slow