The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty)

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The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) Page 17

by Genevieve Crownson


  Diamond had found the room; of that much I was sure. That one question I’d posed about redecorating and she’d stiffened up like a poker.

  I supposed it was only a matter of time. When I was very little I dreamed that a strange man was building a staircase, down, down into someplace dark and cold. I saw Daddy going down into this place over and over again. I’d asked Mama about it, and she told me to hush up. Daddy had work that’s all, and I should mind my business.

  I imagined that Emma too had been full of dreams that led her to that room.

  When I was older around twelve, my curiosity got the better of me and I’d tiptoed down to that room. I’d had another dream and this time I hadn’t ignored the pull to explore. There were hundreds of bottles down there, and a strange painting hung on the wall. I didn’t get a good look at it because Daddy was down there. He had a glazed look in his eyes, he was drunk. He was sitting at a strange dining table with odd looking chairs. Why hadn’t I noticed Daddy was bootlegging before? The strange men that came in the house at odd hours, the hushed whispers, it all seemed so obvious now.

  I remembered Daddy’s threat as if it were yesterday.

  “Margaret Potter, if you breathe a word to anyone about this I swear you’d wish you’d never been born. Do you understand me girl? Dammit! Now get out of here and don’t set foot down here again, you hear?”

  “Yes Daddy.” Is all I’d said before running for my life. That place felt evil, and Daddy was acting really scary.

  Years later when both Mama and Daddy had passed on, and the house came to me, one of the first things I did was wallpaper over that door. I didn’t even go down and take another look to see what was down there. I wanted no reminder of those days. Or how I’d felt down in that room, the men that frightened me, my father’s wrath and my Mama’s fear. I wanted it all erased.

  The room had remained sealed all this time until Emma opened up a can of worms and brought all those buried memories to light.

  I suppose everyone had their demons to hide, this was mine.

  54

  The Watcher, May 2006

  I had allowed Margaret to cloud my judgment, a serious miscalculation on my part. When I’d come for Astrid, and found out she was marked I’d realized what a dangerous game I was playing. So I waited and watched, calculating every step. Relieved to find that Emma was not burned with the same symbol.

  I’d re-examined every clue, not one stone had been left unturned.

  Emma had to be the one. The Soul of the Sun.

  I felt it in my bones.

  My patience paid off. Emma had come; she’d found the sacred room. I had seen a flicker of recognition cross her face when she saw the painting. The thing hung obstinately on the wall. No magic could remove it. Even with my powers and that of the other circle of soul seekers energy surrounding the painting, it had remained.

  Emma had to be the key. Emma and her ancestors were the reason we had moved the sacred ground of the boúrda in Greece to this hidden room, to this house. Our boúrda was built with the mission in mind. It could be transported anywhere—able to move at a moment’s notice. We knew we would have to follow the healer and her descendants—we required the Argos Dynasty. There was no doubt this was where we needed to be. Even without our cartographer, Zenon, it had been a quite simple transition.

  I was giddy with anticipation, but then, to my chagrin, she had cried out, turned on her heel and fled. I stifled my disappointment, but consoled myself with the thought that she would return. Next time she might bring Margaret with her. It would be easy to influence Emma’s young mind. It didn’t seem too much of a stretch to encourage her to spill the beans to Granny.

  Besides, even if she didn’t, those two were like moths to a flame. Where one went, the other would certainly follow.

  I smiled, feeling the power pulse through my veins.

  55

  Emma Diamond, July 2006

  I felt so cold standing in the room alone with him. I wondered how he’d found me. How he knew about the room. There had been times when I longed for him—in the middle of the night or after a bad dream. I had just needed him to wrap his arms around me and hold me close, but in those junctures he was just a figment of my imagination.

  Now however, a familiar feeling swept over me, he was doing it again, threatening to engulf me, swallow me whole.

  We stood there together in silence; I just needed to breathe, to escape his bitterness.

  I had always disappointed Jonathan. He had a way of crawling inside me, slipping under my skin. In those moments, I didn’t remember who I was, I became a marionette, he pulled the strings, and I obeyed.

  There was an ugliness beneath his smooth façade—a cruel weapon he produced when things didn’t go his way. He even tried to hide it from himself. I suppose he reasoned that if he denied it, then it didn’t exist. It was always my fault, if I would just do things differently...if I could only change.

  Of course I’d realized since then I couldn’t ever change enough to suit him.

  Jonathan was full of contradictions; I often wondered what his real personality was. One moment, he was kindness and light, the next he was venomous, consumed by shadowy black moods.

  I’d felt impelled to come here; there had been no choice. So here I stood, clad in pink sheep pajamas with matching fuzzy slippers, my flashlight beaming its light into Jonathan’s face.

  It was time I faced truth.

  “I knew you’d be here,” I said, breaking the silence.

  I stood alone in the shadows watching him. How I wished I didn’t love him the way I did, it was unhealthy. It was time to move on. I stepped out of the darkness and confronted him.

  I spoke curtly. “Why are you here, Jonathan? How did you find this room? Have you been spying on me?”

  His normally green eyes were flecked with black. I had trouble drawing breath. I wanted to escape but instead found myself drowning in those eyes.

  He gave a sinister laugh. “You’re foolish to think I chased around after you, Emma. Don’t tell me you were under the illusion that I loved you? I’m so sorry to disappoint, but everything I’ve done was just a means to an end. And, unfortunately for you, it appears that the end has now arrived.” Jonathan’s voice was icy with disdain. It hung in the air like a bitter fragrance.

  I balled my hands tightly, clenching them into small fists to stay calm, even though I wanted to weep like a child.

  “I’ll ask the question again, Jonathan. Why are you here? This is my house. How did you find this place? And please don’t evade my questions with insults. It doesn’t work.”

  He flashed a malicious grin. “Sweet Emma, so trusting and innocent, anger doesn’t become you. This room,” he swept his arms out in a wide arc, “doesn’t belong to you, it’s my boúrda.” He stepped closer to me. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for you to come here.” He lifted his fingers to my neck, and I felt his hot breath on my skin. I recoiled in horror. He was completely insane.

  “You’re mad.”

  He gave a sigh of exasperation. “Emma, you never were very smart, so much like your Grandmother. Sometimes sweetheart, you need to look a little deeper. Things aren’t always as they appear. Now, I do have some unpleasantness I must deal with regarding you and your Granna Margaret. It pains me, but still it must be done.” He leaned forward and brushed my cheek with his lips, his fingers gripping my neck even tighter.

  I took a step back. “What do you have to do? And why are you bringing Granna into this? She has nothing to do with what goes on between us.”

  Suddenly, I heard Granna’s voice. “Emma! Get away from him now! Before it’s too late!”

  I turned and saw her shadow silhouetted in the doorway.

  “Granna what are you doing…” My voice broke off as she reached out and grabbed the collar of my PJ’s and thrust me back into the corridor.

  “Go quickly, now!” she whispered.

  But I remained, unable to move. My eyes glued to hers.
<
br />   I had to know what was happening. She had already turned her back on me, and stepped back into the room. Her voice rang out crisp and clear.

  “It’s been a long time Thomas, hasn’t it? Ah yes, you look a little surprised. But you see, I would recognize your dark soul anywhere. I always wondered what happened to you. You didn’t die did you? You just used another body. How did you do it? What is your real identity?” Her voice sounded curious but strong and unyielding.

  “You had no pulse when I left you that day on the beach. You were dead. I don’t understand how you did it, but I do know that corpse wasn’t you, was it? When that body held no more value to you, you unloaded it.”

  “Ah, you’ve figured it out, have you Margaret? I always did have a soft spot for you. You are after all, the mother of our beautiful child.” He reached forward and raised a hand to stroke a wisp of grey hair from her face.

  Granna shuddered.

  He continued. “You thought I wouldn’t be back, that the child you carried had saved you.” He laughed softly. “The truth was Margaret; it made me desire you even more. How does it feel to be played for a fool?”

  Millions of questions raced through my mind. Who was this man? Granna had a child with him, and it was my Mom? I knew Granna had been raped; she had always been honest about Mom’s conception. But how did it all connect back to him? My heart hammered in my chest as I watched them.

  He smiled silkily; I could see he was enjoying himself immensely. “You’re right, the body I had acquired was of no more use to me,” he said. “It had wounds that could not be healed. I managed to revive the carcass long enough to dispose of it in the ocean. It was a nuisance, but it worked to my advantage. I was very fortunate; I managed to find another human vehicle almost immediately. One more suitable, as it turned out. Later on, when I became accustomed to my new suit, I borrowed a boat, and searched the water for the corpse. Sadly, it must have been carried away by the tide and I never did find it. Usually I am successful in full body retrieval, and I bring the remains back to this room. They are all buried here in the boúrda,” he said spreading his arms wide. “There is a power in this room. Every human body in this space has a tiny piece of me still encased inside them. Of course, that explains why Emma was drawn to this place. I was even able to bring your father here, Margaret. I used his mind to keep you away from this room as my powers increased. You don’t think he was smart enough to bootleg on his own do you? He protected this place for me his entire life. You see, I always get what I want, Margaret.”

  Granna faced him head on. I knew she was scared, but I also heard the grim determination in her voice. “You may have been able to mislead my father but you will not lay a hand on my granddaughter, do you hear me? What she has will never be yours. Evil will not succeed.”

  That is when I knew he wasn’t Jonathan; he’d used Jonathan’s body. I understood exactly what this man wanted. But it couldn’t be possible! I had no power. Time was not something I could control. How could he take something that I didn’t have?

  I quietly slipped into the room. Perhaps I could make him understand; help him realize I was of no use to him.

  Maybe.

  I stepped into the light and stood beside Granna.

  “Jonathan, I mean Thomas, whoever you are,” I faltered. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t have what you want. So why don’t you just go and leave us alone? You’ve made a mistake. You have the wrong person.”

  His eyes glittered as he stared at me. I gulped hard.

  “Emma, I have come a long way and waited patiently for this moment. I’m fully aware it’s you that I require. If you are too stupid to tap into your own power, that’s of no consequence to me. It’s a shame that I have to do it this way. But you’ve left me no alternative. I’d hoped we might have worked this out. You are after all, my grandchild.”

  He reached down and produced a steel blade from the top of his high black boot. He began to chant, strange rhythmic words I couldn’t comprehend; they sounded Greek but I couldn’t be sure. Then, with the speed of a mountain lion he pounced, attacking his prey.

  “Granna!” I screamed.

  I reached for her but it was too late. The blade plunged deep into her heart. She gave a small whimper and collapsed forward. I managed to grab hold of her robe as she fell but the strain was too much. I lost my balance and we both toppled over one another to the floor. We landed face to face in a tangled pile.

  “Hold on Granna, don’t die on me,” I implored sitting up.

  She gazed at me lovingly and whispered, “The vision was true.” Her eyelids fluttered shut and I felt the life energy oozing from her being.

  “No Granna, no! Please don’t leave me,” But it was too late.

  Granna was dead.

  I heard him whisper in my ear. “Go ahead Emma, heal her, I know you can.”

  Sobbing, I leaned over Granna, hugging her close. I was torn. I knew what was required of me, but my heart screamed to ignore it all.

  He came and sat beside us. When he spoke, I heard regret in his tone. “I loved her too, Emma. I’ve watched her from the moment she was born. I saw her grow into a beautiful young woman,” he glanced at me. “Much like you.”

  “She could have been mine if she hadn’t been so stubborn. She just wasn’t careful enough. You have to heal her, it’s what’s best.”

  I turned to stare at him. Pain and anger welled up in me like a tempest; I thought my head would detonate with its fury. The hatred I felt erupted out of my mouth.

  “You don’t know what love is! Go to hell.” I knew what I had to do, what Granna would want. I took her arms and straightened her motionless figure, smoothing down her robe. I rose, blew Granna one last kiss and fled the room.

  There was no point in looking back, that beast had taken my lifeline, the woman who had been a mother to me.

  He must have hesitated, stunned that I had refused to heal Granna. I was able to make it to the bedroom before he overtook me. He seized my foot; I lost balance and slammed face-down on the floor. There was a loud cracking sound and I felt an excruciating stab of pain in my jaw. I fought to release his hold, but the pain distracted me. I tried wiggling from his clutches, but he held me in a vice-like grip. I lay still; I would have to try a different tactic.

  I turned myself over and eyeballed him.

  “Check me out! Go on, look at me. Do I appear to be someone with special powers? Don’t you think I would have used them by now if I could? I can’t help you. Please! Let me go.”

  “What do you take me for, an idiot?” he snarled.

  He was panting from the exertion of restraining me. His eyes were glazed with madness.

  “Don’t irritate me. No one calls me a fool.” His voice was menacingly quiet.

  He lunged forward and grabbed me by my pajama shirt, then with lightning speed, swung me over his shoulder. My jaw throbbed horribly. I was having difficulty focusing. He carried me down the stairs, through the hallway towards the front door.

  This was it. My premonition was becoming a reality.

  He was using the body of the man I had loved. Was there some essence of Jonathan left inside that could help save me? I could hear his thoughts, but faintly. We were heading towards the cliffs. I would be hurled off the ledge and into the foaming water below. Fear caused my adrenaline to kick in, and I began to squirm, all the while yelling at the top of my lungs, praying someone would hear me and be able to stop this madman.

  He released a snarl of rage and flung me to the ground. The air left my lungs in a whoosh. I struggled to breathe. I was losing consciousness, and then suddenly it happened; his world became mine and I entered deep inside his soul.

  Flashes of his life rained down on me. His hands burned in a fire, the rape of Granna.

  I watched him kill my parents. It had been no accident. He had taken them from me. I saw a strange symbol that held no meaning for me, flash through his mind.

  I saw the future. What he was going to do, where it wo
uld all end.

  I was going to die.

  PART III

  THE SOUL OF THE SUN

  56

  Granna’s face swam before me. The image of her lying in a pool of blood jolted me back to my senses. She died because of me; I couldn’t let her down. I couldn’t let my parents down either. This monster had to be stopped. New energy surged through me and I lashed out with all my might. One swift kick between his legs did it; he staggered back in pain, muttering obscenities. I seized the opportunity, leapt to my feet and took off. I was never a runner, but in that moment I was a gazelle, my feet barely touched the ground. I turned my head just for a moment to see where he was. Only a few yards behind and closing in fast. In desperation I grabbed the locket, hoping something would happen, I would take help from Aunt Abby, Aunt Bette, anyone.

  Nothing.

  That one look back was all it took for me to misstep. I didn’t see the rock and tripped, my arms sprawled out in front of me on the wet gravel. I felt my skin burn where small stones imbedded in my palms, scraping them raw. He was on me before I could recoup. I had no chance of getting away.

  His hands felt clammy and I could see his thoughts again. Not much in his mind now but take and devour. He dragged my body along the muddy ground. The rain fell in relentless torrents and the wind howled its fury. I continued to struggle, to fight him with everything possible, but it was as though he fed off the rain, and it gave him superhuman strength.

  I was so frightened I didn’t even notice my surroundings until we reached the cliff’s edge.

  My pounding heart almost stopped. This was the cliff of my dreams. This is what I’d seen in the painting hanging in the secret room.

  The cliff had appeared out of nowhere. What kind of power was I dealing with?

  Here was the magic that I could no longer deny.

  I screamed—a blood-curdling shriek. The wind whistled in my ears, sweeping in like cackling demons.

  The sole of his long heavy boot lay across my stomach, holding me down as if I was a cockroach. My struggles didn’t even make him break a sweat.

 

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