by W. J. May
“Oh, awesome. Thanks.” Simon took a tentative step inside. “So listen, I know this is probably a weird time, but I was wondering if you had a second to talk? I’m having this little problem, you see, and I think you might be the only guy around here who can help me with it.”
Jacob frowned slightly, and started shaking his head. “Uh…I wish I could, but it really is a bad time. I just got here, and I’m still waiting for this trainer guy to get back to me, and—”
He stopped short as a third person strode suddenly into the room. It was the same unsmiling man who’d delivered Simon’s summons. The one who bore an uncanny resemblance to a ferret.
“Are you Jacob Decker?”
Simon whirled around as Jacob slowly lifted his head. “Yeah.”
A piece of paper flew in the air between them, landing squarely in Jacob’s hand.
“You’ve been summoned.”
He left the room without another word, leaving both Jacob and Simon a bit stunned in his wake. After a moment, Jacob finally glanced down at the paper before turning to Simon.
“Is that, like, a legal thing?”
Despite his rush, Simon couldn’t help but smile. “It’s from your trainer. He’s calling you to the Oratory. Usually he’ll just text you, but as it’s your first time…” His voice trailed off as he was struck with a sudden idea. “Hey! Why don’t I walk you there? Since you’re new and all.”
Jacob looked at him curiously, but picked up his keys with a nod. “Uh, yeah. That would be great. Thank you.”
They headed down the hall at a brisk pace, pushing their way past the crowds of people setting up tables and folding chairs as they made their way across the lawn. Unbeknownst to Jacob, Simon took him around a sharp turn in the opposite direction—taking them the long way round.
The second they were out of earshot, he began to speak. “So you’re psychic, huh?”
Jacob’s eyes flashed briefly to his face before he dropped them down to the lawn. “Sorry, it’s just…it’s still weird to hear that. Before a couple weeks ago, I didn’t know it was something that was actually real.” He shook his head quickly and forced himself forward. “But yeah, I guess. I’m a psychic.”
Simon nodded hastily, moving the conversation along. “So what does that mean, exactly? Does everything you see come true?”
Jacob sighed. “Beats me. I’m brand new to this. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Not a good enough answer.
“Well, surely you have some idea.” Simon grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop, coincidentally, right in front of the towering Oratory doors. He hadn’t meant to do it so abruptly or so roughly, and Jacob pulled away before looking at him cautiously.
“What’s with you?”
“Sorry,” Simon apologized quickly, trying to get a handle on himself. “It’s just, I have the ability to copy people’s ink. When I brushed past you in the hall the other day…I got this crazy dream. This dream that can’t possibly be true. I mean, it isn’t. It isn’t true. But I just thought…I don’t know. I thought that since it was your tatù, I should ask—”
Jacob gave him an inquisitive stare, but then shook his head. “I don’t dream—I draw.”
He…what? Simon sucked in a quick breath, unable to believe the simplicity of it. “That’s it?” he asked incredulously.
Jacob shrugged. “That’s it for me. That was it for everyone in my family. I mean, I can’t say for sure about your dream, but…sounds like it was just a dream.”
With a literal shriek of happiness, Simon leapt upon the poor boy with a tight embrace, completely unconcerned with what he might think or who might be watching.
It was just a dream, he chanted it again and again. It didn’t mean anything.
“You…are a little over-enthusiastic, my friend.” Jacob pulled back with a stiff smile, a smile that warmed at the look of uncontrolled joy on Simon’s face.
“Sorry,” Simon said breathlessly. “I didn’t—”
“It’s cool. I just actually need to find the Oratory. I don’t want to keep this trainer waiting on my first day.”
“Oh yeah,” Simon said quickly, gesturing up to the doors. “We’re actually here.”
He pushed it open and watched as Jacob took his first tentative steps inside. His eyes widened automatically, just as Simon’s had done, as he did a slow rotation, drinking everything in.
“This is where you guys practice?” he said in a slightly awed voice.
Simon grinned and let him to the center of the floor. “In a manner of speaking.” He noticed the janitorial staff had managed to sop up most of the blood from the mats. “Actually, Jason, your trainer, he’s mine as well. Just remember to call him a Botcher. He’ll love that.” He shrugged with Jason’s eyebrows rose. “Odds are, you and I will be sparring together at some point.”
“Oh yeah?” A mix of both nerves and excitement flashed across Jacob’s face. “Well, where can I find this Jason? I should get started lowering expectations right away.”
Simon chuckled. “If he summoned you, he should be in his office. Right down the hall.” He pointed the way as he headed back to the door. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, man.”
As Jacob disappeared into the darkness, Simon pulled in another steadying breath.
Just a dream. It wasn’t real. Nothing bad was going to happen. Everything was going to be just—
The pinprick in his neck stopped his train of thought. He blinked, like his body was frozen, and a fog rose up into his brain. He felt himself drop to his knees and then slowly fall face-forward toward the ground. He tried to get his arms to move out to protect his fall, but they just hung limply at his sides. Tranquilizer dart… he thought to himself.
The world spun and grew hazy before it went black.
* * *
The room flickered on, then off. Back and forth. After a few seconds, it managed to stay on, although Simon was seeing it from a different angle.
He tilted his head up a fraction of an inch to find himself face to face with a pair of shiny black shoes. As his eyes struggled to focus, the man attached to the shoes bent down so that he and Simon were face to face.
“Well,” his voice was as dry as his smile, “you certainly woke up faster than I thought.”
Simon tried to speak, but his throat was having a hard time of it. “What…what’s happening to…I don’t understand…”
“No, of course you don’t.” The man stood up and pulled something heavy out of his pocket, something that came in three distinct pieces. “Even having absorbed your new friend’s little gift, there was still no way you could have seen this coming. And even if you could, there’s not really anything you could have done to stop it.”
It was then that Simon recognized him. He was the man who had delivered the summons, both to Simon a couple of days before, and then to Jacob that very evening. “I know you,” he mumbled. His tongue felt thick and stuck to the roof of his mouth. “You were in the dorms. We just…we just saw you.”
For the first time, he thought of Jacob wandering obliviously down the darkened hall to Jason’s office. Please, let him get there quick. Please let Jason come out here and see what was going on. They were still in the Oratory, after all. Considering that this man had clearly made some preparations, Simon didn’t understand how he could be so stupid.
“Your mentor isn’t here,” the summoner said slowly, as if reading his mind. “I was the one who called you and Decker. It’s just the three of us in the Oratory tonight.”
Simon’s mind reeled back in a delayed kind of horror. “What do you want?”
“It’s not what I want.” There was a sharp clicking sound as the pieces the man had pulled out snapped slowly into place. “It’s what my employer wants. He wants you dead, Simon. Probably the Decker kid, too. We’ll have to wait and see about that one. But mostly you. Which means,” the final piece snapped into place and he sank into a slow crouch, “that I have to kill you.”
It was a gun. Simon
saw it now clear as day. A gun with a silencer. That’s what the man had been constructing.
No. No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
He tried to move again, but a heavy weight had descended into his very bones. He tried to summon up the strength to scream, but something wasn’t letting him. In an act of desperation, he even unsuccessfully tried slipping into Jacob’s tatù, for all the good it would do him. “Please don’t,” he said softly, watching as the gun was lowered to his temple. “I’m not…this has to be some kind of a mistake. I’m not anyone special.”
For the first time, the man smiled. “Oh, Simon, you and I both know that’s not true.” The gun grazed against the side of his face. “You’re about as special as they come.”
“Please,” Simon begged again. A single tear streaked down his face, and for a split second he thought of Beth.
“Close your eyes,” the man instructed, not at all unkindly. “It isn’t something you should see.” There was a sharp click and Simon’s eyes snapped shut.
He braced for the moment of impact, offering out a silent prayer, when all at once there was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.
“Simon, you still here?” Jacob called. Simon’s eyes snapped open. “There’s no one back there in the office. Do you think maybe he…?” He froze dead still, his eyes locked on the gun.
The man got to his feet, looking annoyed. “You kids are making me look bad. I didn’t want you to have to see it coming,” he glanced at Simon, before turning to Jacob. “And you—were supposed to be coming with me.”
RUN, JACOB! RUN!
Jacob took a step back, his chest rising with quick, shallow breaths. “Look, I don’t know if this is some kind of hazing, but—”
Without seeming to move, the man pulled out a different gun and fired. The tranquilizer buried itself in the wall right where Jacob was standing.
…right where Jacob had been standing.
“What the…?” The man trailed off in shock, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh. “I forgot. Psychic.”
Jacob was standing several feet away, panting, his face white with shock. The dart sticking out of the wall seemed to have removed any doubt that this was some sort of initiation prank, and the look on his face now was pure fear. “Simon…?”
“Run, Jacob!” Simon was finally able to gasp the words. “Get out of here!”
But rather than running away, the reckless boy charged bravely towards them. He dodged the next two darts the man shot at him using his clairvoyant gift, before punching him squarely across the face.
“Come on,” he breathed, yanking Simon’s arm around his neck, “we’re getting out of—”
The next moment, he fell to the floor.
No longer supported, Simon dropped down beside him, staring at the long tranquilizer dart that was sticking out of his neck. His eyes widened in horror as they made the slow journey back to the man with the gun. He was smiling.
“I forgot how much fun psychics could be for target practice.” He wiggled his fingers in the air—still holding a different sort of gun in each hand. “I never miss, you see. Perfect aim. It’s my little gift.” He smirked as he tucked the tranquilizer back into his jacket. “I wonder if he’ll let me keep the kid around for a while before he…” His voice trailed off suddenly as he looked at Simon. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kerrigan. Where are my manners? I said I didn’t want to draw this out for you, and I meant it. After all, you’re just a kid, and you’ve technically done nothing wrong. It won’t hurt in the slightest, I swear. Now,” he cocked the other gun and held it at eye-level, “any last words you’d like me to convey?”
Simon’s mouth fell open, but not a sound came out. Any last words? Sure, he had a few choice words he’d like to say to the man about to kill him. But more than any vengeful threats, his mind was silenced by a single, beautiful image.
Beth. He wanted to go out thinking of Beth.
A strange sort of peace came over him, and he stared up with an expression of total calm.
At least I told her I love her…
There was a quiet gasp, followed by the crack of the gun.
Simon’s eyes snapped shut. The man was right. He didn’t feel a thing. He didn’t even know where the thing had hit him. In his head? In his chest? Was he dying right now? Is this what it felt like? Why…was he still talking, then, inside his head?
“Simon?”
In a daze, Simon pried his eyes open and focused slowly in front of him.
No. This couldn’t be heaven. They wouldn’t let this guy in.
“Simon, are you okay?”
Jason was kneeling down in front of him. The gun was in his hand. The side of his face was splattered with blood. And the man was lying in a broken heap beside him.
“Jason?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Jason dropped the gun at once, and grabbed Simon by the hand. He propped him up and looked him over with obvious concern, checking for any injuries. “I’m right here, man. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now, I promise.”
“Jason?”
His Botcher brushed his hair out of his eyes, still checking for any signs of concussion or trauma, a look of pale relief washing over his face. “Yeah, Simon. What is it? What do you need?”
Simon swallowed hard. “…I have some questions.”
THE END
INTO THE DARKNESS
Now Available
TUDOR COMPARISON:
Aumbry House --A recess to hold sacred vessels, often found in castle chapels.
Aumbry House was considered very special to hold the female students - their sacred vessels (especially Rae Kerrigan).
Joist House -- A timber stretched from wall-to-wall to support floorboards.
Joist House was considered a building of support where the male students could support and help each other.
Oratory --A private chapel in a house.
Private education room in the school where the students were able to practice their gifting and improve their skills. Also used as a banquet - dance hall when needed.
Oriel -- A projecting window in a wall; originally a form of porch, often of wood. The original bay windows of the Tudor period. Guilder College majority of windows were oriel.
Rae often felt her life was being watching through one of these windows. Hence the constant reference to them.
Refectory -- A communal dining hall. Same termed used in Tudor times.
Scriptorium -- A Medieval writing room in which scrolls were also housed.
Used for English classes and still store some of the older books from the Tudor reign (regarding tatùs).
Privy Council -- Secret council and "arm of the government" similar to the CIA, etc… In Tudor times, the Privy Council was King Henry's board of advisors and helped run the country.
The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel
Into the Darkness Book III
By
W.J. May
Copyright 2016 by W.J. May
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked statu
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Copyright 2016 by W.J. May
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The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel
Christmas Before the Magic
Question the Darkness
Into the Darkness
Fight the Darkness
Alone the Darkness
Lost the Darkness
The Chronicles of Kerrigan
Book I - Rae of Hope is FREE!
Book Trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gILAwXxx8MU
Book II - Dark Nebula
Book Trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ca24STi_bFM
Book III - House of Cards
Book IV - Royal Tea
Book V - Under Fire
Book VI - End in Sight
Book VII – Hidden Darkness
Book VIII – Twisted Together
Book IX – Mark of Fate
Book X – Strength & Power
Book XI – Last One Standing
Book XII – Rae of Light
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Blurb:
Learn how it all began … before Rae Kerrigan.
The sins of the father are the sins of the son.
