Shine: The Knowing Ones

by Amy Freeman

  Trin stared, dumbfounded. “Ashbel has taken Sam to another time, Mikhail,” he said. “He killed Anna and has taken Sam somewhere I can’t follow.” He dropped his head to his hands, defeated.

  Mikhail leaned forward, removing something from his jacket. Trin raised his eyes as he held it in the palm of his hand, eyes shining in the darkness. “Do you not think the Divinity saw this coming?” he asked. “Do you not think they have prepared a way for us to fight?”

  “What is it, Mikhail?”

  “We do not always understand why things play out the way they do, Trinton. Even our mistakes are put into place as a vehicle to accomplish a greater goal. You know this. The Divinity knew you would make the choices you have made and established a correlating path to utilize the gifts they have blessed you with in order to ensure their purpose. You have not failed, Trinton,” he said. “You have followed your path exactly.” Mikhail turned his gaze on Anna’s lifeless body. “We address this first,” he said. “This young woman cannot remain a victim of the Veduny conflict. I am sending you to Ivanova.”

  “How will that help?”

  “First, we need to find Sam. You must put forth all you have to contact her.”

  “I don’t know if I can reach her in a different time,” Trin said.

  “You will not be in a different time. We are not sending you to current day Ivanova.”

  Trin sat up.

  Mikhail opened his hand, revealing the black lacquer box. As he lifted the lid a faint distorted light emanated forth, alive in the stone pendant. Mikhail’s eyes gleamed. “For the first time in a century we have Ashbel’s energy contained. He made a mistake. The Veduny essence may be tainted but we are just as privy to its power.”

  Trin raised his eyes to Mikhail.

  “Ashbel can jump time,” he said. “The ability to do so is encoded in the energy he left behind and there is enough of it here to use.” He leaned forward with the box. “Once you make the jump she will be able to hear you. She can then tell you where she is. This is your compass, Trinton,” he said, holding up the pendant. “Ashbel has been tracking you for a century. Now you will be tracking him.”

  Mikhail and Trin worked with the speed of men crazed. Anvil had arrived with the general location of his brother, but more importantly, the time to which he had taken Sam. Mikhail had been correct. He had gone back just prior to the winter solstice.

  Anvil was not allowed to follow Trin through time in that he was still alive in the time Trin was traveling to. Anvil’s guide and predecessor, Llamar, would be Trin’s guide for the duration of the visit. Trin carried Anna into her room, laid her on her bed, and covered her with her blanket. He lingered for a moment, holding her hand.

  “Trinton,” Mikhail called. “We are running out of time.”

  Trin nodded. He was more than ready. He couldn’t get there fast enough. He crossed the room to Mikhail and Anvil. “Sam really is our only way back, isn’t she?” Trin asked.

  Mikhail glanced to the stone, the energy fading. “Once this energy is gone.” Mikhail began a torrent of rushed instruction as precious seconds passed. “Llamar is well versed on life in our village and surrounding area as it was back in the early 1900s. He will be your touchstone as you must do all you can to avoid contact with the tribe. Anvil will still be alive, and you do not yet exist. Your goal will be to find Samantha and bring her back before the next solstice. Try to remain unseen. As wrong as it sounds, things need to stay the same.”

  Mikhail looked earnestly at Trin. “It will be very difficult for you to let things lie. It is in your nature to exact justice. You will get an opportunity to fix what Ashbel has done when you return.”

  Trin nodded.

  Anvil began. “You will be going back to the twentieth of December 1910, the eve of the winter solstice,” he said. “Once you get there, remain out of sight and call to her. As soon as you have found her, return without delay.” He reached out and put a hand on Trin’s shoulder. “I know I cannot be there, but I will be watching, Trinton. I will never leave you alone.”

  Trin held the gaze of his lifelong brother and nodded.

  Mikhail removed his heavy coat, giving it to Trin. “That jacket is not enough where you are going.”

  This brought Sam’s scant costume to mind and Trin’s determination increased one hundred fold. Where was Ashbel keeping her? Did he care she was probably freezing? Other disturbing thoughts began to form in his mind. “Send me now.”

  “I will be watching,” Anvil said. “Llamar will find you. Take care of yourself and remember this is part of your path.”

  Trin waited impatiently as Mikhail took the pendant from the box. “I will remain with the girl until you return,” he said. “This should occur instantaneously from my end, if all goes well.”

  “You mean if Sam stays alive,” Trin said.

  Mikhail stared in response, no words necessary.

  Trin stood erect, more ready than ever.

  Taking the tainted pendant from the velvet setting, Mikhail lifted his palm a few inches above it, focusing. His aura gleamed in a violet full body sun, the energy in the pendant churning like smoke as Mikhail lifted the blueprints to open a portal through time. The energy expanded between Mikhail’s palms. Trin watched, waiting. An electrical disturbance crackled, and in seconds a rushing sound and blinding light appeared in front of them. The conduit gleamed brilliantly before them.

  “Go. Go now,” Anvil said.

  Trin stepped through the light and disappeared.

  The bitter cold hit him like a wall. He lifted his head from a crouched position in a thicket of trees and bushes just outside his native home, the village of Ivanova. Littered with a million shining stars, the vast sky opened up endlessly above him, the crisp, clean air energizing him each time he filled his lungs with it.

  He nearly laughed aloud he was so relieved. He had made it. Right now he didn’t care if he ever made it back. Sam was accessible again and he would gladly die of hypothermia before he would stop searching for her. He stood, his instincts pushing him to take off running, yelling for her like a mad man, but he had not forgotten Mikhail’s words: no contact with the tribe.

  Trin took in his surroundings, scanning, reading—in the Urals, close to his home. Though he was in the past, the terrain and vegetation were the same he had grown up visiting.

  He wrapped Mikhail’s coat tighter, grateful for the added warmth. The arctic environment stung, snow and unfathomable cold. He lifted his feet through the snow, pushing through the brush, making his way into a clear area of the towering wooded mountainside, so vast, the navy blue sky endless, the enormous pines so tall. He kept moving, his senses pulling him toward familiar energy. He knew he was close. The village had to be near. He could feel it. He wasted no time, tapping into Sam’s energy like a homing device and began searching. A sharp familiar essence slipped up behind him. He froze, crystal eyes gleaming, staring in a panic to the moon glittered snow—calculating his next move, escape? Fight? Had he been seen?

  “Trinton...”

  Trin spun around.

  He stood several feet back, amusement in his light green eyes glowing beneath tousled white blonde hair. His formidable frame moved in grace beneath black Veduny fatigues as he approached his temporary charge, golden blue aura shimmering in a halo around his muscular body.

  Trin let out a breath. “Llamar,”

  The spirit guide walked toward him, a slight smile lit his face as a Russian conversation began. “I apologize. There really was no good way to make my entrance.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Llamar’s energy was wonderful. Trin beheld him with humility, the Keeper who had taught his own mentor, who had trained Anvil and Ashbel and watched everything fall apart. He was the perfect assistant to the current task at hand. “You cannot stay out here much longer,” he said. “If you intend to find Samantha, you must stay alive. Come with me.” He turned, making his way back through the woods, opposite of where Trin had been
going.

  “Isn’t the village this way?”

  “It is,” Llamar said. “But you will never make it in this cold.”

  “How far is it?” Trin asked. “It feels like it’s right here.”

  Llamar stepped over a fallen snow covered tree trunk. “You are used to twenty-first century air, twenty-first century chaos. Your environment is jammed with it,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder as he walked. “Your modern day chaos does not exist here. It is like you have spent your life trying to see through tainted glasses and now the glasses have been removed. You are perceiving everything with that powerfully heightened clarity you have fostered.” He checked the path and turned again to Trin. “Be grateful for that. Your intensified intuition will serve you well in helping you locate your charge.” With a glint in his eye he said, “You are like a super Veduny here.”

  Trin paused, then followed behind him in the snow and cold.

  “She is still alive, by the way,” Llamar added.

  “How do you know?” Trin asked.

  “You tell me.”

  Trin gazed forward. “I still feel her.”

  Llamar eyed him approvingly. “You would feel it if she were gone.”

  They continued on through the cathedral of massive pines, bristling in the frigid night air until they reached a small clearing. A small stone cottage stood, nestled in pines. Walking up the snow covered cobblestone path, Llamar pulled the ornate handle down, pushing the heavy wooden door open. Thick stone walls and darkness surrounded the tight space. In the center of the room a beautifully carved wooden table and two chairs interrupted the harsh feel, and in the far left corner was a large hand-carved bed, thick with opulent blankets and quilts flanked by a stone fireplace. Ominous blue heat swirled above the stone hearth—no fire. The levitating sphere of energy gleamed, illuminating the room in muted light.

  Llamar turned to Trin. “No smoke,” he smiled. “Strengthen it, will you?” Llamar knew Trin needed more warmth, and that Trin’s physical energy would do a better job than his spirit form. Gazing at the sphere, Trin focused. The ball of energy grew, spinning faster, brighter. Warmth radiated outward from the fireplace, spreading itself evenly throughout the small space.

  Trin gazed back at Llamar.

  “This will be yours while you are here,” Llamar said. “Of course, no one knows anyone will be here.”

  “Where are we?” Trin asked.

  Llamar walked to the window opposite the front door, pulling the curtains aside.

  Trin moved across the room, gazing out through the plated glass, shocked. He turned to Llamar in alarm. “Why did you bring me here?”

  Through the window and up the spacious stretch of land stood a vast, beautiful castle, home to Veduny royalty.

  “It is the furthest Veduny structure from the village while still keeping you in the village. No one will be using it now, and I do not expect you will be here very long,” Llamar said. “But you cannot be here on your own with nowhere to go. No one will find you here as long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  Trin gave one last glance to the area and then turned to Llamar. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to search for Sam.” He turned and headed toward the door.

  “Might I make a suggestion?” Llamar said.

  Trin turned.

  “Mikhail says Samantha has extraordinary gifts.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not try to contact her from here, where it is warm? You will not have the distraction of the cold and if she hears you she can bring you to her.”

  Trin contemplated that, feeling like he should be out in the village searching.

  “It will not slow you down,” Llamar answered, reading his doubts. “If anything, you may be able to find her faster, and eliminate the risk of being seen.”

  Trin glanced up at him. Llamar was right. “Thank you.”

  Llamar nodded. “One more thing,” he said. “Cloak your energy. This heat source does not give off much light, but you certainly will.”

  Trin stretched out a hand. “Thank you, Llamar.”

  Llamar took it with a firm grasp. “You summon me the same way you do Anvil,” he said. “I will be here whenever you need me.” Then he was gone.

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  T rin stood in the silence of the cottage. Outside, the frigid wind howled through the dense forest and the urgency to find Sam became unbearable. He walked to the center of the cottage, crossing his legs and sitting down on the floor. He closed his eyes, inhaling, concentrating as his lungs filled and emptied again. His mind cleared, expanding, reaching out, nothing blocking his search aside from the energetic cloaking Llamar had reminded him to do.

  Sam? Sam, I’m here. Where are you?

  Agonizing seconds passed in the deafening silence. He tried again.

  Samantha, please. Where are you? Help me find you.

  His only answer was the increasing howl of the bitter wind outside. His heart raced, jaw tight. It wasn’t enough. Abandoning Llamar’s advice he extinguished his cloaking. His strongest energy shredded the environment.

  Sam, where are you? I’m here. Bring me to you.

  A voice ruptured the silence. In the midst of reclaiming her mind, her will, her sanity, his angelic voice sounded. Her heart leapt in response. Still unable to move or speak, desperation mounted.

  Answer! She commanded herself. She focused, strained, firing a response into the psychic environment.

  Trin...

  Still so weak—as if stuck in a dream, screaming out, knowing no one could hear her.

  Try again...

  Her awareness spiked, eyes shifting beneath her lids. The phantom voice had returned. She hesitated.

  Who are you? She finally managed to ask.

  Do not waste your energy on me. Respond to Trinton.

  Sam reeled, mind and emotions spinning. Drawing all the strength she could muster she forced another response.

  Trin...

  Sam!

  A physical pang shot through her body, nearly evoking movement. Her heart pounded, on fire as his voice continued.

  Sam, where are you?

  She forced a response, fueled by hope.

  I don’t know. It’s dark. I can’t move.

  Are you hurt?

  I can’t feel anything.

  Sam, bring me to you, the way you moved Mikhail. Try.

  Panic struck. Mikhail had been with her, and she had sent him away.

  Samantha, do not doubt. Just do it. Your will is all you need.

  Again, the phantom voice counseled her, hearing their thoughts, their conversation. She focused. Constructing Trin’s image in her mind she willed him to her. A barely perceptible shift spun the environment.

  Give more. It is not enough.

  I’m giving all I have!

  Try harder.

  She allowed every ounce of pain, fear, and frustration to fuel her task, her very heart reaching out to find him. The shift intensified, molecules reorganizing, preparing to claim incoming information. A rushing sound, a flash, and a solid, strong body on top of her.

  Tears of relief filled her eyes, streaming from the corners as his heavenly scent engulfed her, not missing a single cell. Trin first pushed himself off, crushing her tiny frame, then pulled her back to him, molding her in a full body embrace, eyes moist as he buried his face in her neck. For a moment he stayed, holding her, breathing her in, not caring where they were, not caring what danger might be lurking. In that moment nothing else mattered. Nothing.

  His senses prickled. He lifted his face from her neck, reading the occupied air. “Sam,” he whispered. “Who’s here with you?”

  No response.

  “Samantha,”

  Though screaming a response, he wasn’t hearing her. Why?

  Your strength is gone. He can hear neither you nor me. Take from him. You are the only way out.

  Too weak to respond, Sam obeyed. Breathe. Envision his energy coming into you. It is there for y
ou to use.

  A pulling sensation filled Trin’s center, Sam’s essence tingling in his abdomen. Quieting his angst he opened up, muscles slack, allowing her to draw from him. Her breathing slowed, energy passing from him to her, building, surging.

  You have enough. Go. Now.

  “Trin...”

  His head jerked in the dark toward her voice. “Sam?”

  She could muster no more than that. Running a hand through her hair he pulled her into his chest in a warm protective hold. “Let me in.”

  Opening her mind to him, he scanned her thoughts, desperate for answers she could not verbalize.

  To the back of the castle. He commanded. There is a cottage in the back.

  A lurch, a suctioning, and a blinding conduit pulled them in.

  Night imprisoned the massive cliffs, interrupted by sweeping intermittent patches of brilliant moonlight. Ashbel’s massive frame loomed in the shadows looking out over the water. The time was almost at hand. Only a few more hours stood between him and unending power—a waiting game. Everything else had been done. The Oracle and the kindjal, safely hidden away and bound, waiting for the midnight hour when the solstice would begin and the waiting would end.

  A chilled wind blew through the night sky. He inhaled, savoring the vibrant elements, adding to the power he had taken. Each experience a vivid sensation and soon he would be unstoppable.

  On the tail of that thought a subtle change altered the wind, information carried through the fabric of the air. Turning his head to the side, he lowered his gaze to the frozen ground. The information wafted past him in wisps and fragments. Something had changed.

  Turning away from the sea of water his gaze swept the outstretch of land in the direction of his captive. A bit of disquiet as he wondered if it were possible.

  Never. There was no way.

  But his confidence faded as the disturbance remained. He turned, making his way back. He had to be sure.