Fire Prophet (Son of Angels) by Jerel Law

speak a little lower. “Of course, I know your true identities. That each of you is part angel, offspring of both human and nephilim.You are amazing kids, with much to offer this world. Just like all of Elohim’s children. I’ve heard that some of you have already been using your gifts quite effectively.”
    He glanced at Jonah and nodded. Jonah blushed, and Kareem seemed to get the hint and moved on quickly.
    “I must confess I’ve never been around quarterlings before. It’s a pretty cool experience for someone like me. But just like the rest of us,” he said, “prayer is the central connection we have to Elohim. You will never realize your full potential to engage in the battle between good and evil if you can’t, or won’t, pray. So why don’t you join me now?”
    He reached out and extended his hands to the right and left, grabbing the hands of Frederick and David. Frederick looked as if he was going to pull away but didn’t. Jonah, Lania, and Hai Ling followed suit, each reaching out to hold hands with the kids next to them.
    “Close your eyes, friends,” he said, and they obediently followed his direction. “This will allow you the least amount of distraction. Let everything that is worrying you, all of your cares, all of your fears, your doubts . . . let it all blow away, like a dandelion in the breeze. Now, turn your mind to Elohim, think about Him, invite Him to come into view, and ask Him what He wants to say . . .”
    Kareem kept speaking softly, not so much praying as encouraging the students to pray themselves. Jonah kept his eyes closed, trying to concentrate. But his mind kept wandering off in a thousand directions. His parents, the flood in the school bathroom, his house and all the things he wished he’d brought from his room—when he tried to concentrate on Elohim, all of these random thoughts kept interrupting.
    He took a deep breath. Let those things go, Jonah . . . let them blow away. He pictured each of his worries blowing away like one of the dandelions in his backyard, caught up in an autumn breeze.
    Suddenly, Jonah sensed that something had changed.
    Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud.
    What is that noise? It sounded vaguely familiar. And then he heard a faint roar that grew steadily louder.
    He opened his eyes again. The room around him, along with the rest of the quarterlings, had vanished. Jonah found himself standing in the center of the Granger Community School basketball court.
    Thud, thud, thud.
    The thudding noise was the basketball he was dribbling. The growing roar now filled up his ears. He looked up, and on both sides of the court, bleachers full of fans were screaming. He found himself momentarily captivated by their faces. Because even though they were looking at him, they weren’t cheering. Some of them were weeping uncontrollably. Others wailed from pain, or grief. All around him were faces of human suffering.
    Why are these people at a basketball game?
    Quickly, though, his attention was drawn back to the court. There was a boy guarding him, and other kids running around on the court, calling to him. His teammates were yelling frantically, urging him to move the ball down the court.
    He looked at the player crouched in front of him, a boy who looked about his age. He could have been any kid at Jonah’s school . . . except that his eyes flashed yellow. He quickly glanced at the otherfour kids on the opposing team. They were moving around the court, but in each of them, he saw those same yellow eyes.
    Out of instinct, he glanced up at the game clock, and just as he did, he heard the voice. It was barely a whisper, and yet it somehow carried over the screams coming from the stands.
    “Help . . .”
    Jonah looked to his right and left, still dribbling the basketball, but saw no one nearby who could have whispered to him.
    And then he realized why his teammates were yelling at him. The score read 59–58, visitors ahead. They were losing, and the clock had just crossed