Sparrow signed something inappropriate that she’d learned from Fart.
“Hail Jonah! My name is Star and I’m your harbinger of hope. Do not believe that the absence of Soul means he is not here with you any more than not being able to see the King means he isn’t ruling and reigning. Take heart. You are not alone. Do what you were created to do. Fight Jonah. Fight for those who can’t! An old saint from the Material World once said, ‘. . . then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; the wrong shall fail, the right prevail…’!
“Look towards Christmas and keep your hope. I will help you. Soul will help you. You aren’t forgotten. ‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’”
With a final nod and a broader smile, she raced along the top of the RoadBlock until it joined the old, higher one, and disappeared over its side. A large dark shadow follow after her into the Forest.
If he could have, Jonah would have taken a deep breath to settle his heart, but he could no more do that than he could sigh. Instead, he said a quick word of thanks to the King, eyes to the heavens, and turned back to Axe’s body. Christmas was only a few days away. He needed to finish getting the bodies cleaned up, set up command, and defend this place. Not for Cagen, Pain, or Fear, but for all the little boys and girls, born and unborn, who lived here and feared for their lives, boys like Martin who starred off towards the Forest with a glazed look in his eyes, and Islay who still gripped his hand. Jonah could be the Greenhome needed in the Streets. He could be the bruiser he should have been. Hope blossomed in his heart, full blown, and it wore a bright smile.