Richard Harland - Ferren and the Invasion of Heaven

home navigation bar world hakerliberator wolf kingdom the black crusade other books author writing tips
Selected Extracts



The Third and Fourth Altitudes Of Heaven


Miriael turned her mind to thoughts of the Third Altitude. So far as she could guess, the Gardens of Prosopus were directly overhead. The Gardens of Prosopus, where manna was gathered for the whole of Heaven . . . manna, the celestial food of angels . . .

Again she did it! Suddenly the light was different again: a soft pearly opalescence. Here was no panoramic vista but a hushed closed world. A mist of light floated endlessly down in minute droplets. She could see no more than twenty metres in any direction.

She was standing beside a gently-flowing river - the River Anaphar, creamy as milk. All around were carefully-tended manna-bushes. The descending light condensed on the twigs and branches, forming white flakes. The flakes were the manna itself, sweet as honey and subtle as air. They hung from the bushes like a coating of frost.

And the manna-gatherers? She scanned around and saw white-robed figures in the mist. The gatherers were angels of the Order of Principalities. They moved as if in a slow underwater dance.

Miriael glided along by the side of the river. She caught glimpses of serene faces, hands like ivory, shining hair. The gatherers were collecting the manna on cloths of white linen, spread out over the ground. The singing of an angelic choir drifted down faintly from the Fourth Altitude.

She would have liked to keep walking. The Gardens of Prosopus were infinitely soothing. But these angels were not the ones she sought. She must continue her ascent to the Fourth Altitude.

This time, she couldn't even see the sky through the mist of light. But she had sound instead of sight. She listened to the music of the choir drifting down, and opened her mind to thoughts of the Fourth Altitude.

The transition was startlingly abrupt. After the gentle peace of the Gardens of Prosopus, the Fourth Altitude took her breath away. Suddenly the singing was a glorious thunder in her ears. The entire world seemed to resonate with harmonies.

She faced a vast curving wall of ten thousand angels. They rose one above the other with candles in their hands. As each part of the choir burst into song, the flames of their candles flared higher. They were not only singing but also composing music.

They directed their voices towards a long scroll of paper held up by four flying Cherubim. Inscribed on the paper were empty musical staves. The notes that they sang appeared as if by magic on the staves.

The composition was overseen by three Great Patriarchs: Abraham, Jacob and Moses. They sat facing the choir in three enormous high-backed thrones. Looking at them from behind, Miriael could see only the locks of their hair, like carved grey stone.

For a moment, she forgot all about her mission. Her heart swelled to the magnificence of the music. She hardly even noticed that she was hovering above the ground.


previous extract ... next extract


Ferren and the Angel

Ferren & the Angel


Ferren and the White Doctor

Ferren & the White Doctor


Ferren and the Invasion of Heaven

Ferren & the Invasion of Heaven


Ferren's World

Ferren's World


About Angels

About Angels





Read the extracts from Ferren and the Angel or Ferren and the White Doctor


- Ferren Home - Ferren and the Angel - Ferren and the White Doctor - Ferren and the Invasion of Heaven -

The FERREN series is published by Penguin Books Australia




Home - Song of the Slums - Worldshaker & Liberator - Wolf Kingdom - The Black Crusade - Other Books - the Author - Writing Tips

News & Blog

OTHER BOOKS: Walter Wants to be a Werewolf! - Sassycat - The Vicar of Morbing Vyle - the Ferren trilogy - the Eddon & Vail trilogy




Copyright note: all written material on this website is copyright
1997 - 2015

Richard Harland.