Convoke

Chapter 7

Their village was surrounded by a patchwork blanket of fields, different shades of greens as far as the eye could see. Each field was separated by trees, bushes or fences. Sheep and cows were small dots from so high up. The sky was a flurry of fluffy clouds that were turning orange towards the horizon.

Tom sat on his jacket and watched the sunrise. The first ray of sunshine on his face was like the fingers of an angel stroking his cheek. He leaned back, closing his eyes, forgetting about the dream that had woken him in such a state.

He wasn't working that day, so he went home to change into black jeans and a fur lined denim jacket. He returned to the village and got a sandwich at the shop where Cal worked. He gave Tom a discount and he took his food back to the hill. The clouds at cleared and the sun beat down on him, but it wasn't warm.

Tom crossed his legs and watched a fox scurry the outline of a sheep field until something suddenly blocked his view. He jumped and dropped his sandwich in the grass. Ezrakhell towered over him, casting him in a cold shadow. "Uh . . . hi," Tom said.

Ezra stepped back but placed the book by Tom's crossed legs. "I'm done with this. I need you to get me another one."

"You read that fast." Tom picked his sandwich back up. "What's the other one called?"

"History of demons and angels in the area. If you can't get it specific to this village, then just the county will do."

Tom frowned. "Can I ask why you're reading about that?"

"No."

"Alright." Tom stared quizzically at the demon when he hovered awkwardly. "Can you tell me a bit about the history book? Just in case the librarian asks about it."

Ezra turned away to look at the view. He hesitated like he wanted to leave. Tom had done him a favour, so he sat a few metres away on the grass, folding his legs underneath him. "Your pub was once one of the only butchers in the village before it was sold to your great-great-grandfather and turned into a pub."

"Yes," Tom said, nodding. "I already knew that. Anything else? Maybe I should just read it too." He flicked through the pages, stopping at all the old black and white photographs.

"The Brellham's who own the farm are the oldest family in the area."

"Yeah, I knew that too."

Ezra looked out towards the blanket of fields. "About a hundred years ago, in the last great war, the only place in the village that was damaged was the angels place of worship. The statue of the angel from the roof was blown off and crushed the water fountain, and a girl who was sitting by the edge. The building was then turned into a library and the water fountain was rebuilt with a golden statue of a girl in the middle."

Tom hadn't heard that story before. "What chapter was that on?" he asked, flicking back and forth through the pages.

"It's not in the book."

"Oh." Tom studied Ezra, who quietly plucked strands of grass out of the ground. His hood still covered his face. He wished he could see his expression. "You've been to this village before?"

"A long time ago."

"Are you now planning on staying a while?"

Ezra shrugged.

"Well, it would be nice to get to know a demon. Having a demon-friendly pub doesn't mean we have demon friends. Like you said, you never stick around for long enough."

"Why are you so accepting of demons?" Ezra asked.

"You're not that much different to humans. I know that you're here to tempt us or whatever, but you're still sharing this earth with us. Despite being around you, I still have free will. You also need to eat and sleep and drink. Maybe you're not as social as humans, but kindness can probably make your day better." Tom pursed his lips when Ezra didn't say anything. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"Yes."

"Good." Tom leaned back on his palms and looked up at the sky. "You know, our pub hasn't always been a demon-friendly pub. But this village hasn't always been so cruel to demons. Demons have always been welcome; it's only recently we've needed signs to specify who exactly is welcome."

"I know."

"It's shit." Tom closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face. "About twelve years ago, when me, my best friend Cal, and my dad were walking home from school, a dog got loose and scared a heard of cows. We climbed a tree to get out of their way, but the dog was trampled on and killed. A soul stripper visited first, but there were no bad parts of the dog's soul to take. She still waited until the angel arrived. Then she helped us down from the tree. As the demon escorted us out of the field, she assured us that the soul was reliving some of the dog's happiest memories. Ever since then, I always really respected soul strippers." Ezra didn't say anything for a while, and Tom wondered if he was still there. He glanced down, and Ezra was staring at him. He had pulled his hood back, and he could see his dark eyes. Tom blushed at the thought of Ezra wanting to have a better look at him.

Despite his pink cheeks, he locked their gaze. Ezra was very handsome. But regardless of his sharp features and big build, something was cute about him. His eyes were big and curious, and shy. Tom tilted his head, and Ezra looked away, pulling his hood back over his face.

"I'm sorry that you feel like you have to hide," he said earnestly.

Ezra quickly stood up, turning his back to him. "I need to go."

Tom let the conversation turn into loose threads. "Alright. I'll get you your book tomorrow. Meet me here at three in the afternoon."

"Ok."

Ezra disappeared right in front of him. Tom had been looking at his back, then he was looking at the distant fields. He glanced around even though he had seen him leave. He wondered what that was like, to just disappear from a moment as though you were never really in it.

He picked the book up from the grass and ventured down the hill. The library was already closed. But he was eager to return the book tomorrow, and pick up a new one, just so he could talk some more to the soul stripper- Ezrakhell.