Forgotten Destiny 5

by Odette C. Bell

  Something stone. I… was back there. On that parapet. I could feel the unusual clothes around me; I could sense the stone beneath my clutching fingers. And as my gaze resolved, and the swirling, amorphous forms of consciousness formed tangible shapes and colors, I saw the storm.

  It boiled above me as if it were a pot of water that was about to be tipped over my head.

  I stood there and stared in stunned, amazed silence, incapable of processing anything but that imminent danger.

  Then finally I heard and felt him behind me.

  Max.

  I turned.

  But it wasn’t Max. It was Jason.

  “You were wrong, Beth. You ruined everything. It was me. It was always me. You should have trusted me – you should have trusted your heart.”

  I shook my head. “I’m—” I began, about to tell him I was sorry.

  The storm was pressing in from above, and the castle was now shaking as I saw its foundations were being torn apart by the chaos.

  And yet, though the word sorry was on my lips, I couldn’t force it out.

  I got pulled in by his stone-gray eyes.

  They seemed like a path – one that led me back to the future. My future. The real future. For this vision? It was just a vision. Something that was being produced in my mind now I’d walked into the darkness.

  As that thought struck me, I remembered where I was. The awful reality of the situation paled.

  I looked right up at Jason. I shook my head. “You’re nothing more than a story. Nothing more than a myth.”

  Jason’s features twisted. Then the storm twisted. It gave this great big jerk as if it were a hand, and the next thing I knew, a cloud swiped toward Jason.

  I didn’t scream. I did, however, admittedly squeeze my eyes closed. Because even if this wasn’t a vision, I didn’t particularly want to see Jason torn apart.

  I opened my eyes when I didn’t hear the sound of ripping flesh.

  … And I saw Max.

  He wasn’t in the clothes from the past. He was in the same suit he’d been wearing when I’d left him in the mansion.

  “Beth. Why did you do it? Why did you doubt me? Why did you abandon me?”

  “Max?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  Even though I’d already affirmed that this was nothing more than a vision seconds before, at seeing Max, my heart reacted. Something reached into my chest and activated my emotions, and they were like poison to my reason.

  I found myself shaking my head and almost reaching a hand out to him. His expression was the sourest, bitterest thing I’d ever seen – the expression of someone who had been completely betrayed.

  But just before I could reach those fingers out, I stopped myself.

  “Beth. Come with me now,” he said as he shoved a hand toward me. “Come with me now, and we’ll save everyone and everything. It’s your last chance, Beth. Redeem yourself,” he said, his voice spitting.

  He reached his hand out to me, and it trembled with purpose. I swore I could feel his body heat, too – for as the storm pressed in, everything became as cold as the heart of a glacier.

  That hand… was everything I’d ever wanted, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? Ever since the beginning – ever since I’d met Max and started dreaming of him every night – I’d always wanted to find that hand outstretched toward me. I’d always wanted to find that promise that he would never leave me again. That I’d be his.

  But there it was… and I didn’t reach for his hand.

  Because this wasn’t real.

  I don’t know how I managed to remind myself of that fact, but suddenly, with a blast of reason, I took a step back.

  I closed my eyes, squeezed the lids shut, brought my hands up, and clenched them into fists. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” I repeated to myself as I ground my fingers into my palms, using the little blood that trickled down between my fingers as an anchor to remind myself not to give in to this.

  There was a hiss of breath.

  I felt movement in front of me.

  I opened my eyes.

  I saw the same set of stone-gray pupils. This time they belonged to another man.

  Even though it was hard to keep my thoughts of the future straight while in this vision, I gasped. “Paul Knights?” I asked, voice shaking.

  He stared at me. He had a build that was very similar to Peter’s – broad-shouldered and strapping. Though he had a gray-flecked beard, it still looked as if he could take on anything. And the sharp, piercing quality of his gaze reinforced that fact. “You’re ready to find the seventh,” he announced.

  “… Sorry?

  “My boys finally brought me someone who’s ready to find the seventh. So find it,” he said as he brought his hands up and reached them high, pushing them toward the storm above. It was getting angrier with every second. It was also getting colder, too. And though I was trying to repeat to myself over and over again that this was nothing more than a vision, I swore my body was shutting down. I wrapped my arms around my middle, but it didn’t make any difference. I was losing heat from the inside out.

  And yet, I was not losing determination. “There’s no damn way I’m ever going to help you,” I spat. “I’m not an idiot. The second I find that seventh set, you will use it to control others. I will not allow that to happen.”

  “You will have no choice,” he stated flatly as he kept his hand turned up toward the storm. “This is no ordinary vision, sorcerer. To get out of here, you will have to go through the chaos. And to go through the chaos, you will have to find the seventh set.”

  “Then I will stay here and die,” I stated flatly.

  Paul looked at me with his piercing stone-gray pupils. I could see where his sons got their intensity from. But even they weren’t a match for their father. For the quality of his gaze was exactly like an oil rig drill – something that could pierce through any layer of dirt and stone to get to what was within. You would have no chance of hiding anything from this man. “You won’t have a choice,” he pointed out simply. “You will remain here in this vision until you are capable of claiming the seventh set. That is the torment of anyone who comes looking for it.”

  … It was one thing claiming that I would die for my principles. It was another thing to claim that I would go into a living purgatory forevermore being frozen here on top of this castle.

  … But I didn’t have any choice, did I? I recognized the power of the sets, and I would not allow anyone to use them to harm others.

  Maybe Peter could read my mind, because he shook his head, his hands always held high to the sky. “Don’t fear them. The seventh set is nothing more than the culmination of magical practice. The highest peak for a sorcerer to climb. The greatest spiritual knowledge attainable through the path of magic.”

  “They are a means to manipulate others,” I spat back. “And I’m not going to acquire them for you.”

  “Don’t you have a heart? Don’t you wish to free this world of slavery and pain? Of war? Violence? Pestilence? Of disease, of death?” he added with finality. “You can. If you’re brave enough to claim the seventh set and use it. For then you’ll have the power to reach right into the hearts of man and make us happy once more. Is that not a power a just and moral person should wield? Is it not the point of all humanity to find a way to lift us all up?” As he said that, he brought his hands up even higher, pressing them toward the lowest lying clouds.

  “What you’re talking about is mass manipulation. You’re talking about forcing people to feel something. You’re talking about manipulating them for the rest of eternity. I don’t call that the greatest moral objective of humans. I call that being a monster.”

  “Then you lack moral fortitude. Would you stand by and allow people to suffer? Would you stand by and allow them to fear? Would you stand by and allow wars to continue? All when you can stop them? And what of your friends and family? I sense they’re in danger. Will you stand by and allow them to die? What about your partner? I can see
into your mind. He is right now fighting for you. Would you allow him to lose? And what of my son?” He closed his eyes, and he really must have possessed the power to read my mind, because when he opened them, there was a sharp smile on his face. “You love him – and yet you would leave him. All because you are too much of a coward to do what it takes to save others. Good men must seek power in order to save others.”

  Though Jason had repeated that term multiple times, I’d never… truly understood it.

  But with the storm barreling down on me, I had no choice but to listen.

  “Every time you walk out on the city street, you have been saved by good men who have sought power. The peace you enjoy, the prosperity you take – it has been bought by good men. They acquire moral injury while you sit back and accept the benefits of their toil. It is now your chance to give back. Bring happiness where happiness is needed.”

  “You just want to control Madison City and then the world,” I spat, trying desperately to hold onto my determination but feeling it slipping away from me with every second. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was the promise of spending eternity on this parapet. Or maybe it was his words.

  Maybe I was starting to appreciate the difference between somebody who sat at home all day reaping the benefits of others who protected them without going through any of the stress and pain. Maybe I simply didn’t have the right to tell others what power they could and could not seek in their efforts to protect others when, for most of my life, the only person I’d ever protected was myself.

  Maybe he could sense that I was caving, because he took a sudden step toward me and reached his arms up to the storm until the tips of his fingers actually touched the lowest lying cloud.

  The storm reacted, shifting in and out, pulsing like a raging heart.

  It was… almost beautiful. If I could strip away the cold and the fear and the memory of being torn apart by it, it was… astounding. Its power looked otherworldly – precisely because its power was otherworldly. It was a glimpse into a realm of pure potential. One most humans dream about, but one they will never see.

  “If you do not act, your friends and family will die. But if you act and claim the seventh set, you can and will change everything.”

  He… had a point.

  “If you don’t trust me, trust your finding magic,” he said as his head tilted down and he stared at me directly. “Is there an opportunity here, complete finder?” he asked simply.

  As stupid as it sounded, I hadn’t checked in with my opportunity magic since I’d arrived in this vision. Though, to be fair, I’d been fairly distracted. Now, at his request, I couldn’t help but sense my opportunity magic within me.

  “Is there an opportunity here?” he bellowed.

  Yes… yes, there was. There was an opportunity to get out of this. To save everyone. To do everything I ever wanted. To find peace. For everyone.

  But not in the way he thought. As I ground my eyes closed, I asked one simple question. Was there a way to get out of here, destroy the seventh set, and save everyone in the nick of time?

  I opened my eyes, and I looked right at Paul. “Yes,” I said. And I pushed forward.

  Chapter 11

  I didn’t push toward Paul.

  I pushed toward the storm.

  I had no idea how to call it toward me, but movement seemed to be enough. For it reacted to something within me as I thrust toward it, pushing my own arms up high as if I were attempting to catch a bird on the wing.

  Cold the likes of which I had never felt swamped around me. I instantly thought it would kill me, but when it didn’t, I opened my arms higher, stretching my fingers wider. I swore the bones and joints creaked as if I were asking an iced-over steel pole to bend. But I still managed to reach my fingers higher. I wasn’t as tall as Paul, but that didn’t matter, for the storm reached down toward me.

  It was easily the most terrifying moment in my entire life. Shoving my hands into chaos? I mean, pushing your fingers into burning coals was one thing, shoving a fork into a live toaster another. Actually cramming your hands into the heart of all raw power? Yeah – not recommended.

  Suffice to say, the sensations that ran through me were almost indescribable. It felt as if the universe was being formed right inside my stomach and heart. Every muscle contracted and lengthened in a split second, making me feel as small as the tiniest particle in existence, and yet as large as the universe itself.

  My sense of self was completely blown apart as I swore I became every single twisting, swirling cloud that made up the storm.

  Maybe Peter spoke again, but I didn’t hear him. I wasn’t capable of hearing at all, to be honest. I was pretty sure I didn’t have ears anymore. The concept of having a body and what exactly you did with it had been stripped from my mind. The only thing I was was a directed beam of will. Yeah, I get it – that sounded like a decidedly hippie way to describe it – but I was fresh out of other descriptors.

  The chaos swirled in every direction, both outside of me and within me. There was no longer a distinction between me and it.

  Slowly, I started to lose hold of everything. Every thought that made me up, even my purpose.

  It was all taken from me like a snake losing its skin. Everything I thought defined me simply sloughed off.

  I couldn’t stop the process, but I could appreciate one thing. If I lost my sense of will, I’d be stuck in the storm forever.

  So that’s when I held on. To one thing. And no, it’s not what you think. I didn’t suddenly sink my mind into the memory of Max’s kiss. Whether it be the one on the parapet or the one in the sitting room. I didn’t concentrate on how his lips had opened the door to my heart.

  All I paid attention to instead was the one feature that defined me. A path I had chosen to walk down, and the single path that had seen me get this far.

  The truth.

  There were still so many questions in this case that hadn’t been answered.

  I would find them. Because the truth was important to me.

  And I held onto it. Whatever little scrap of truth remained within me – whatever desire to find it no matter what. I clasped that even though I didn’t have hands. I hugged it even though I didn’t have arms. I pulled it into my chest, even though I didn’t have one.

  And somehow, somehow I started to see a path through the darkness. One that opened up to a room with flickering torches.

  I couldn’t run toward it – I couldn’t move. Plus, there was no concept of time in the chaos.

  It took half a second and yet a whole year until I felt myself being spat back out, until I felt my body forming.

  From my hands to my feet to my face to my lips to my chest – it was as if I was becoming a person again on fast forward – almost as if I was being reborn.

  But though my body formed, it did not appear in full before Peter. Not yet. It paused before it did that.

  I could feel something in my hands. And it didn’t take too much for my imagination to appreciate that it was one thing – the seventh set.

  I’d claimed it after all.

  But the moment I fell to my knees in front of Peter would be the moment he stole it from me. And though I was still functioning, it would take me a while to wrap my head around having a body again – and in those few seconds, Peter would have all the time he would need to steal the seventh set from me.

  So I paused, just before my body formed in full and the seventh set pulled itself out of the chaos.

  I needed a plan. To get out of here. To get back to the mansion. And there? I would find a way to destroy the seventh set for good.

  Perhaps ultimately I would end up following the words of the Zero Prophecy, but with my twist on them.

  To get out of here, I needed to get to a door, but there was no way I’d be able to outrun Peter. It would take a while for my legs to work again.

  And yet, if I didn’t have a door, I wouldn’t find an easy access back to the mansion. I’d already decided portal magic w
ouldn’t work, so there was no way, right?

  Wrong. Even as I thought that, my fingers tightened around the book.

  What was a book but a door? A doorway into imagination, sure, but still a doorway nonetheless.

  The act of opening the cover of a book was very much like the act of opening a door.

  As soon as that thought settled in my mind, I imbued it with the magic I had, and more importantly, my hope.

  It was the only option I had, so I would make it work.

  Finally I allowed myself to reappear.

  I fell on my knees right in front of Peter.

  His eyes boggled, and he shifted forward, his attention fixing on the book in my hands.

  Though the other sets had all been three books respectively, the seventh was just one enormous tome. It was big enough and bulky enough that it took up my entire lap.

  And yet, it appeared to weigh nothing.

  So there was nothing to stop me from latching a hand on the cover and wrenching it open just as Peter shifted toward me. I could see his hand stretching toward the book.

  As soon as I wrenched the cover open, I concentrated.

  I told the cover it was a door, and the cover agreed.

  The next thing I knew, I fell face forward through the book while somehow still managing to keep my arm wrapped around it.

  I tumbled onto the carpet in one of the upstairs bedrooms in Max’s mother’s mansion.

  I lay on my back, the book beside me.

  But just before I could reach over and kick it closed, Peter jumped out.

  He landed on his knees, his eyes blasting wide with obvious confusion.

  But it was a confusion that wouldn’t last.

  I still hadn’t regained my full magic, and I knew that I wouldn’t for a while. Excuse me if claiming the greatest magical book in history hadn’t been a little exhausting.

  So I shoved forward with the only weapon I currently had – my foot. It connected with Peter’s back, and I kicked him face first into the coffee table. It was a good enough kick that the glass broke around him. It gave me the opportunity to shove forward, wrap my hands around the featherlight book, and dash for the door.