Chapter Twelve:
Later that night, Angela was awoken abruptly by a sudden, silent sound. She had sensed the disturbance rather than heard it. She sat up in bed and looked around her room. Deciding the disturbance came from without her quarters, she got out of bed to investigate. As she walked noiselessly down the corridors, she sensed the disturbance once again and discovered it came from the upper deck of the Nautilus. A quick glance out a porthole window informed her that they had been surfaced for a number of hours to save energy during the night. Angela immediately went to the deck where she found the cause of the disturbance. "Mr. Skinner," she said gently. "You really ought to be in bed right now."
He took a drink from a bottle Angela was unfamiliar with. She knew it must be an alcohol of some sort. "I don't care," he said, drunkenly. "There's no escape from my misfortunes but the bottom of an empty bottle."
Angela sat on the railing top. "That's not very healthy," she commented, conquering her balance. "Perhaps you should talk to someone about it?"
"Who could I talk to?" he asked, taking a long drink from the bottle. "No one here would understand."
"Well, why don't you ask them and find out?" she suggested. "Or you could talk to me about it. I may not quite understand it all, but I wouldn't judge you, either." She placed a gently reassuring hand on his black leather-clad shoulder. "Just try it. You may feel better."
He sighed and drank from the bottle. "It's about Kate," he said after a moment's pause. "I miss her."
"Kate," Angela repeated. "Ah, yes. That would be Kate Bennet, would it?" Skinner's hat bobbed up and down. "I'm familiar with her case. Please continue."
"Her case?" he repeated.
Angela nodded. "Yes," she said. "Once a Guardian Angel's Guarded starts down a strange path, it's no longer considered a possession, it's considered a case. Her life became a case in the year 1886. But, it's still unclear if that was her fault or not. Please continue, Mr. Skinner."
He sighed. "I don't know whether she's alive or dead or dying or what," he said dully. "There was nothing I could do. She was trapped in the ice cave and whatever I did to free her from it, the ice would grow back. I tried and tried for hours before Quartermain forced me to return to the Nautilus. I couldn't save her."
"There's the off chance that she didn't want to be saved," Angela said gently. "Or that it was completely beyond your control. The latter I'm more inclined to believe."
"That it was beyond my control that I couldn't save her from the ice?"
Angela nodded. "Yes, Rodney," she said. "Occasionally, Angels tend to step into the lives of mortals and alter the state of a portion of reality. The ice continually growing back. Ice doesn't do that naturally. It must have been the work of an Angel somewhere or possibly even God himself."
"She was Pagan," Skinner protested. "Why would He care?"
The Angel smiled warmly. "Every person that ever lived and every person that ever will live is one of God's Children," she replied. "He loves them all the same. Even if they don't believe in Him. Occasionally, He may need to interfere with the Laws of Nature to regain one of His Children's belief. He may have done that to either reclaim you from the grip of the Devil, or her. We may never know."
"But, what if it wasn't God or one of His Angels?" Skinner asked. "What would the reason be?"
"I'd rather not talk about that particular option, actually," she said quietly. "It makes me uncomfortable."
"Why?"
Angela sighed softly. "Very well," she said. "If it wasn't God and it wasn't an Angel, it may have been the Devil or one of his Demons. They walk on Earth as easily as any Angel." She brushed her hair from her face. "It was common knowledge among the Guardian Angels that once Kate Bennet was dead, the Devil would willingly collect her soul himself. He would take hers, Moriarty's, Dracula's and Sherlock Holmes' souls without any qualms."
"Holmes?" Skinner asked. "I know him. What would the Devil want with him?"
"He just wants the entire set of them," she answered. "To the Devil, Mortals come in sets. If he would have Moriarty and Kate, he thinks he ought to have Holmes as well."
"What of Dr. Watson?"
"Dr. Watson's Guardian Angel is extremely protective of him," she said. "If the Devil touched so much as a discarded glove, she would almost willingly trade her Grace to retrieve it. But it's rumoured throughout Heaven that she's a bit touched."
There was a brief silence. Then Skinner spoke, "Where's Kate? Is she dead? If she is, is she in Heaven or is she in Hell?"
"Mr. Skinner, what you need to know is I have very little to do with the destinations of souls," Angela said matter-of-factly. "But I can take a peek around." She closed her eyes and looked around Heaven in her mind's eye. When she opened them again, she said, "I don't see her in Heaven. And I have absolutely no way of looking through Hell. So either she's alive or she's in Hell."
"Oh… Thanks anyway, Angela," he said. He leaned on the railing, looking into the water. Then he lost his balance and fell over. In an attempt to stop his fall, he grabbed hold of Angela's wrist and pulled her with him.
She landed hard on the water and went under. When she surfaced, she sputtered and spat salt water out of her mouth. "Rodney?" she called, looking for him. His hat and jacket were floating on the surface of the water nearby. She sent them to the deck of the Nautilus with a twitch of her eye. "Rodney, where are you?" She rose out of the water and her wings erupted out of her back. She looked around in the water for him. After a few minutes of searching, she saw his shape against the ripples of the water. He was underwater and seemingly too far below to know up from down. "Hold on, Rodney," she whispered, praying silently in her heart. She turned over immediately and dove into the water for him.
He was deeper than she thought he was. She had to swim to reach him, using her wings to propel herself downward to him. When she reached him, she slipped her arms gently around his chest and swam for the surface. As she broke surface, she began calling for help. Angela was able to rise out of the water, still holding tightly to Skinner as she did, and landed on the deck. She opened his mouth and carefully drew the water out of his lungs using the strange talent that Angels seemed to posses. As she finished, the rest of the League ran onto the deck.
"What happened?" Nemo asked curtly.
As she was busy trying to get Skinner to breathe, Angela had to speak to them through her thoughts. He and I were talking. He was drunk and lost his balance. As he fell, he pulled me in as well. I just got him out of the water. She placed her hands on his chest, over his lungs. "All right," she said softly. "Everybody pray." She pressed down on his chest gently, but firmly. Deimon, it would be nice if I had your help. She was trying to reach Skinner's Guardian Angel.
A brilliantly white light appeared behind Angela and a tall, imposing Guardian Angel appeared. It was Deimon, Skinner's Guardian Angel. "Angela, it isn't your place to save my Guarded," he said, kneeling on the other side of Skinner from her. "I'll take it from here." Angela nodded and stood.
The League watched in silence as Deimon worked to bring Skinner back. "Is he…?" Mina asked softly.
"I don't know," Deimon answered sharply. "I just don't know. Angela, get her out of here."
"Mina?" Angela asked. "Why?"
"Not Mina," he said. "The other one."
The League looked around. Angela looked past Dr. Jekyll and saw her. She had long light brown hair and was wearing rags. There were flakes of snow caught in her hair. She was crying. "Heaven above," Angela whispered and crossed over to the woman. "What are you doing here?" Angela took the woman by the arm and escorted her off the deck of the Nautilus. Their destination was the Gates of Heaven.
The woman pulled back. "I can't go in there," she said.
"Why not?" Angela asked, "You're dead and you seem good."
"I'm not dead," she replied. "Take me to Mongolia... Please."