Bakkian Chronicles, Book I
THE PROPHECY
by
Jeffrey M. Poole
Copyright © 2010 by Jeffrey M. Poole
www.Lentari.com
PUBLISHED BY:
Jeffrey M. Poole
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real locations, is purely coincidental.
Books by
Jeffrey M. Poole:
Tales of Lentari
Lost City
Something Wyverian This Way Comes
A Portal for Your Thoughts
Thoughts for a Portal
Wizard in the Woods
The Hunt for Red Oskorlisk (short story)
Bakkian Chronicles
The Prophecy
Insurrection
Amulet of Aria
Disneyland Debacle (short story)
Winter Wonderland (short story)
Follow me online at www.Lentari.com!
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – Beneficiary
Chapter 2 – Portal
Chapter 3 – Encounter
Chapter 4 – Prisoners
Chapter 5 – Magic
Chapter 6 – Journal
Chapter 7 – R’Tal
Chapter 8 – Prophecy
Chapter 9 – Protectors
Chapter 10 – Allies
Chapter 11 – Mountains
Chapter 12 – Entrance
Chapter 13 – Maelnar
Chapter 14 – Exterminators
Chapter 15 – Key
Chapter 16 – Surprise
Author’s Note
Sneak Preview of Book II!
For Giliane –
My one true love, my soul mate, my everything.
Thank you for believing in me!
Chapter 1 – Beneficiary
Mondays typically didn’t bother him too much, but this particular one wasn’t off to a good start. He had just let out a monster yawn, the kind where once finished, your jaw muscles are left hurting and the insides have long dried out. He hadn’t even made it in to work yet, and here he was, already wishing he was back home. The simple fact of the matter, he thought glumly, was that he was bored with his job. Sure, it paid the bills, and with the economy the way it was, he was thankful to have a job. Nevertheless, the fact remained that he needed something more challenging to do than solving the same type of problems day in and day out.
Thanks to his job in tech support, his social life had become practically non-existent. Being able to treat his wife to a night out was a rarity anymore. He sighed. He couldn’t even remember the last time that they had not been interrupted over a weekend. All he had to do was think about going out for the night and within the hour plans would have to be cancelled. It was as certain as washing your car and then watching the thunder clouds roll in.
Take last Friday, for example. He had just finished placing reservations at the new steak house in town when a major client’s system went down. It had taken him three hours of remote dial in service to resuscitate the stubborn machinery. Was he thanked for putting in the long hours, especially on a Friday? Of course not. Would he see any part of the exorbitant fee that his boss would charge the client for the after-hours support? Nope. Part of the job description, his sadistic supervisor had informed him.
His reverie was shattered by the Bane of his Existence, his business cell. The blasted thing had begun ringing well before his 8am start time and he hadn’t even made it to the office yet. A quick glance at the display had him cringing. Unfortunately, it was a client’s number that he knew all too well. Well, they were just going to have to wait. Pushing the ignore button on the cell, his attention returned to the road. Moments later, his cell chimed: new voicemail. His irritated eyes flicked momentarily over to the time indicator on the SUV’s dashboard. Ten minutes to eight. If there was one thing he was adamant about, it was not letting any of the numerous clients who had been given his cell phone number know he was available before his allotted start time. He might not have a say as to who is given his cell number, but he could certainly control when he answered it.
Steven Miller was the senior computer tech for a medium-sized company that sold and maintained telephony software and hardware. Out of five full-time techs that his company employed, not one person knew the system better than he. It was a bitter point of contention that consistently fell upon deaf ears.
His cell phone chimed again a few moments later. It didn’t like being ignored. Steve sighed irritably. It would be dealt with as soon as he made it in to the office. What had happened to the weekend, anyway? How was it possible that two days could pass by in the blink of an eye? Wasn’t it just Friday?
Well, I can’t say that we didn’t do anything fun this weekend, he thought. Since he and his wife truly (gasp!) enjoy playing video games together, they had decided to buy Nintendo’s latest video console, the Wii. Nothing will make you lose your dignity faster than yelling at the television while waving around a set of game controllers that strongly resemble a set of martial arts nunchuks, and, to top it all off, getting beaten horribly by your wife. It was debilitating.
At least the summer was finally over, Steve mused. The start of fall had always been his favorite time of the year. Maybe he might be able to swing some time off in September, for their anniversary. His bosses owed him at least that. Being huge Disney fans, he and his wife liked nothing more than walking around Disneyland, hand in hand, admiring the –
A horn honked loudly nearby, snapping him out of his second daydream of the day. Groggily rubbing both eyes, Steve glanced in his mirror to see who had honked their horn, and why. Not one car had moved an inch since he became stuck in this lousy traffic jam. Sighing again, he started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Jeez, how much longer were they gonna be stuck here? This had better be one hell of an accident.
Ordinarily, the traffic in Twin Falls, Idaho, was minimal at best. Sure, it was a larger town, at least when it came to the Spud State, but still, traffic here was typically not something you complained about. Today, however, there were at least twenty cars ahead of him, not to mention at least that many piled up behind. Even the oncoming lanes of traffic were also snarled, which usually meant that there was some serious rubber-necking happening up ahead. This must be one nasty accident. He hoped no one was seriously hurt. Cars mangled, sure, that’s fine, but no one hurt.
Steve glanced over at the passenger seat and noticed a corner of an envelope sticking out between the seat and the car door. He reached over and pulled it out.
“Oh, yeah, forgot about this,” he mumbled. The certified letter. It had arrived the previous day, courtesy of some young kid in a beat-up VW bug. “You Steve Miller?” the courier had asked, with a not-so-bright look on his face. The unprofessional manner in which this “certified” piece of mail had been delivered had denigrated its importance to that of an unwanted piece of trash. As a result, it had been tossed into his SUV to be dealt with later. Well, no time like the present. Might as well see what it says.
Steve tore open the cardboard mailer. A white envelope fell onto his lap, along with a folded piece of newspaper. Okay, so what’s this? He glanced up to check on the status of the (non-moving) traffic and unfolded the newspaper. It was a clipping from the Coeur d’Alene Press, the local newspaper that covered the northern Idaho panhandle region. He was holding the obituaries page, and there were two. However, only one held his attention:
Simon & Grace Miller, 81 and 80, long-time residents of Coeur d’Alene, passed away suddenly from an automobile accident. They leave behind one son, Stan (& Bonni
e) Miller of Phoenix, AZ, and one grandson, Steven (& Sarah) Miller, of Twin Falls, ID. Funeral arrangements will be handled by C. Baron Funeral Home.
Steve blinked a few times. He recognized the names of his paternal grandparents, of course. They’re dead? When did that happen? Steve turned the paper over, looking for the date. Hmmm, nearly three weeks ago. Who would send him a copy of their obituary? He reached for the white envelope, opened it, and pulled out a single folded piece of paper.
Dear Mr. Miller,
My name is Arthur C. Carroll. I am the attorney for your grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Miller. I regret to inform you that your grandparents have passed away. I will be handling their estate.
The reason for my letter is to inform you that you are named as the beneficiary in their will. Please call my office so we can arrange a visit to review their will together. Again, my most heartfelt sympathies for your loss.
Sincerely,
Arthur C. Carroll
The attorney had even personally signed the letter. Well, it looked like an authentic signature. Steve squinted at the paper. Could be fake. Those computer printers were getting really good at making a phony signature look real.
Steve reread the letter. His grandparents were dead? Should he be upset? He didn’t feel it. Hell, he hadn’t even known his father’s parents. Sure, he knew them by name only, and knew what they looked like from his mother’s photo albums, but he himself had never talked to them.
Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel again. I’m named in their will? Did dad also get a letter like this? He pulled his cell out of his pocket and called his parents. His mother picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi mom. How’s it goin’?”
“Steven! What a pleasant surprise! Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Well, yeah,” he admitted, “but I’m presently stuck in traffic. Must be an accident or something up ahead.”
“Traffic? In Twin Falls? Please. Unless it’s four lanes deep, and several miles long, don’t complain to me about traffic.”
His parents had retired to Phoenix to soak up the desert sun. A simple trip to the grocery store usually resulted in a thirty minute drive. Being the fifth largest city in the United States, Phoenix’s traffic naturally, well, stunk.
Steve laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you have a point. Hey, listen, I have a question for you. Have you or dad received a certified letter in the last couple of days? From an attorney named Arthur Carroll?”
His mother thought a moment. “No, nothing like that here. An attorney sent you a certified letter? Are you all right? Is someone trying to sue you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. He sent a letter stating dad’s parents had died in a car accident, and that I’m named as beneficiary in their will. I just figured dad was named as well. I mean, I know they had their differences, but I just figured the attorney would have contacted the two of you first.”
Bonnie Miller sighed and sat down. Her husband had most definitely not gotten along with his parents. How could a happily married couple neglect their only son?
“No, we haven’t received anything. When did this happen?”
“Just about three weeks ago.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that. I didn’t know them that well. I only met them once. I don’t know how your father is going to take this. He’s playing golf at the moment. I’ll have to tell him when he gets back. He didn’t take his cell.”
“But why would they name me beneficiary and not dad? Were things that bad?”
“Yes, honey, they were. They hadn’t spoken to each other in years.”
“I sure as hell don’t remember talking to them, either. Why name me?”
“I don’t know why they did. They must have had some reason to. What are you going to do?”
“Well, I guess I can call this lawyer to see what he needs me to do. Do I have to go to his office? Can’t he just tell me over the phone what they left me?”
“You’ll have to talk to him personally. When going through a will, I’ve never heard of a reputable lawyer disclosing the contents over the phone. Just let me know what happens, alright?”
“Is dad going to be okay?”
“Leave your father to me.”
“Okay mom, thanks. Bye.”
“Goodbye, Steven.”
Steve sighed inwardly. Figuring his boss wouldn’t give him any problems about dealing with a death in the family, he picked up his phone again and called the attorney's office and made an appointment for the following day. That done, he decided to call his wife whom he had just dropped off fifteen minutes ago at the hospital. Sarah Miller was the supervisor for a company that provided medical billing on behalf of the local hospital. Her job was to oversee a team of people who relentlessly nagged the insurance companies on the hospital’s behalf until they paid the claims that she and her team had submitted.
“Hi honey! What's up?”
“Hey. I’m stuck in traffic at the moment. Haven’t even made it to the office yet. Hey, listen, remember that certified letter that I got yesterday? Forgot about it until just now. I decided to open it. It looks like my grandparents passed away. They…” and was quickly cut off.
“Omigod! What happened? When did this happen? Ummm…” Sarah paused a moment. She only knew of one set of Steve’s grandparents, and his grandfather had passed away a number of years ago, leaving only his grandmother. He had clearly said “grandparents”. Plural. “Who?”
Steve smiled into the phone.
“They were dad's parents. You've never met them. Hell, I can’t remember ever meeting them before. Mom claims that I did, but being only two years old doesn’t count. Anyway, they were always out of town. They never came to family get-togethers. They were the family outcasts.”
“Oh honey, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Now Sarah sounded upset.
“I know this is cold-hearted, but I didn’t know them. They never made an effort to get to know us, so I really didn’t worry about it. Apparently I’m named in their will. So thanks to that, I have to go see their lawyer tomorrow morning, see what's up. I have plenty of PTO, so I’ll take the day off and pretty much spend it on the road. Just what I always wanted to do on a day off. He's probably gonna try and make me pay some type of legal fee, isn’t he?”
“You’re not responsible for any debts or fees,” Sarah pointed out. “If anything, you’ll have to liquidate the assets to pay for anything that’s owed. Be cordial to him tomorrow. I don't want you scowling at him, or anything like that. Promise.” It wasn't a request.
“Okay, okay, I promise. I'll wait to see what he has to say before I start scowling.”
Sarah laughed and hung up.
As it turned out, the lawyer was surprisingly polite. Of course, he was in Boise, a two hour drive from his home in Twin Falls. Fortunately, the drive gave him plenty of time to come up with excuses to get out of doing too much work or paying any money.
Arthur C. Carroll had seen better days. He appeared to be in his sixties, was overweight, balding, and had stained teeth. Well, that’s what you get when you drink too much coffee, Steve thought.
“Mr. Miller, thank you for coming,” the attorney shook hands with him. “Please sit down. I know you had a long drive, so I'll make this as short as possible.”
Steve smirked. I'll believe that when I see it.
“I can tell from your expression that you’re expecting the worst. So I’m pleased to disappoint you. You’re the sole beneficiary of the Miller Estate in Coeur d’Alene. That includes their home and land, about a hundred and fifty acres.”
Steve's eyebrows shot up, his jaw clanging noisily on the floor.
“A hundred and fifty acres? In Coeur d’Alene? Wow.”
“That is correct, Mr. Miller. Their residence and the land it’s sitting on no
w belong to you. What you do with it is entirely up to you. Sell it, live on it, demolish it, it doesn’t matter to me. Please sign here. The transfer of title will take about thirty days. Then the estate is officially yours.”
“Free and clear?”
“Free and clear,” the lawyer confirmed.
Steve shook his head in amazement and signed the papers. Once the documents were signed and given back to the attorney, he was handed a set of keys. And a map.
Steve was puzzled.
“What’s the map for? I know where Coeur d’Alene is.”
“Their property is northeast of the city, bordering BLM land. I’ve only been to the estate once. Trust me, you’ll find the map useful. Good luck, Mr. Miller.”
And with that, he again shook hands with the attorney and left the office.
Steve's mind was spinning. He owned a mansion now? And a hundred fifty acres of land? He had to call Sarah, as this was Breaking News. They were going to have to celebrate! But how? How could he keep this a surprise from Sarah? How could he, the world’s worst secret keeper, keep his big mouth shut? Oh, why bother. She’ll see through me in a heartbeat, he thought. Fine, dinner it is.
Of course, Sarah knew something was up the moment his little ‘let’s go out for dinner’ suggestion escaped his lips. Was he upset and wanted to get his mind off of his grandparents? Was the trip to the lawyer’s office a waste of time? No, she shook her head. That couldn't be it. If that were the case, they wouldn't be eating out. Okay, so why are they going out then? Wait a minute. Out to dinner? On a weekday? Did he inherit some money? Why won’t he tell me? She sighed. Steve and his surprises. This had better be a pleasant surprise.
After they had placed their orders, Steve then proceeded to fill her in on what had transpired at the lawyer’s office.
“A mansion? You never said they were rich. And a hundred fifty acres? That’s gotta be worth something up there. Coeur d’Alene is a resort town, you know.” Sarah clapped her hands. “I wonder if it’s a pretty mansion with a garden? Wouldn’t that be great?” Sarah looked at Steve and sobered instantly. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so excited about your grandparents’ death.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Like I told you, I didn’t know them. I say we contact a realtor up there and put the property up for sale. Let’s see what kind of offers we can get on it. I want to be done with it. The way I see it, we should be able to make some good money off this whole deal. Real estate is worth a lot up there.”
Sarah clapped her hands again, back to being instantly excited.
“We don’t have anything planned this weekend. You should be able to take Friday off. Just tell ‘em that since there’s been a death in the family, you have to go to the funeral. I’ll take it off, too. We can go up there to see what the place looks like.”
Steve shook his head.
“You want to drive up there? Going through someone’s house is not my idea of fun. The place probably has orange shag carpeting. Lime green appliances. Formica countertops.” He chuckled at the mental picture this formed and returned his attention back to Sarah. “Did you know that when dad moved out of his parents’ house, I’ve never once heard of him returning to visit? Hmmm…” Steve's voice trailed off.
Sarah waited. Was there more to this story?
“They never attended family reunions,” Steve continued on, moments later. “No Christmases that I can remember. No phone calls to say hello, how are you? And for my birthday, they always sent three lousy bucks in my birthday card when I was a boy. And now I learn they have, er, had a mansion.” Steve paused, and looked at his wife. “I never knew these people. I always thought they were cheap and wanted nothing to do with me. Then I find out they’ve given me essentially everything they own. I don’t understand why. What’s the logic behind that? Sure, I’m flattered that they chose to give everything to me, but why should I bother with them?”
Sarah had remained quiet the whole time Steve had been rambling, nibbling on a bread-stick. Now that he appeared to be done, she took a breath. “I think that since they’ve named you in their will, they thought highly of you. You should at least go to their house up there and see for yourself what you were given. I think you owe them that.”
Steve wasn’t ready to commit to a day long drive. Not yet, anyway.
“I looked it up. The directions I found online says that Coeur d’Alene is a twelve hour drive from here. Twelve hours!! Wouldn't it be a better idea just to call a local realtor and put the house and property up for sale? We could get some bids for cleaning the place up, tossing trash, etc. I’d be willing to pay for that provided I didn’t have to be involved. I wonder if Lynn has any contacts up there.”
Lynn was one of Sarah’s close friends that they periodically hung out with. She just happened to own her own real estate brokerage.
Sarah fixed him with a glare. “You can call her if you like. However, we’re going. This is important and you’ll feel terrible if you don’t go.”
Steve mentally scratched the remaining items off of his list of issues and resigned himself to the trip. A day-long drive up the northern Idaho panhandle.
The Prophecy Page 1
