The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty)

by Genevieve Crownson

  Margaret patted my hand, “I know it’s a lot to take in but there is more you need to know.”

  “There’s more? Don’t you think, what you’ve told me is enough?” I was having trouble swallowing. This story was definitely beyond my comfort zone. Yet, she continued unfazed by my uneasiness.

  “I’m afraid you must hear it all Tristan, be patient with me. There is another fable about a painting that hangs in the secret room under my house. This painting was hung long ago in that room. Legend foretold that neither the most heinous evil, nor the mighty power of angels could remove this work of art. The painter was said to have been a master, a genius with incredible talent. One day, he suffered a terrible tragedy, he lost his sweetheart. He was so overcome with grief he decided to end his life. But before he did so he decided to paint out his anguish. He wanted to release his pain; to remember what she’d endured so it would never happen again. He would make sure of it.”

  I interrupted, annoyed. “Really Margaret? What does this story have to do with me or Emma? This is taking things a bit far don’t you think?”

  “Be patient my boy. Anyway, as I was saying, he threw himself into his work. When he was finished with his masterpiece he was said to have taken the painting and hung it in the secret room of her family’s residence. Then he returned home and thrust a knife through his heart. Everyone who knew him understood his anguish and although they were sad, they put the incident behind them. That is, until something strange happened. The owner of the house, who was also his father-in-law, found himself a little short on cash, so he decided to sell the painting, he thought it best as he didn’t need the reminder of his daughter’s death displayed out on canvas. However, when he went to remove the canvas from the wall he was frustrated to find he was unable to do so. It appeared there was a peculiar magnetic force around the artwork, and no amount of effort by him or any others who tried could penetrate this field.”

  Margaret held my gaze. “Tristan, now that I am no longer a part of the earthly plane, I have some knowledge of what the artist intended. He was actually a great seer; he understood that one day he would return to this plane and be reunited with his lover. He was concerned that history would repeat itself, so to protect his painting, he called upon all the universal magnetic energies to gather together and safe-guard his work.”

  Margaret gripped my hand tightly. “Tristan, you are that painter. You have returned to be reunited with your one true love. I know you don’t remember this but I assure you it’s true. When you find the painting, you will have the ability to break the force field surrounding it. You will have no trouble recognizing it for it is the same scene that you paint over and over again of Diamond. History will repeat itself if you are not careful, but you can stop it. All you have to do is concentrate your energy into both hands, then flatten your palms against the canvas and it will be free once more. All the magnetic energies will be reabsorbed into your body, restoring your memory of all your past lives. More importantly, you will regain the great universal power that was once gifted to you. This power will help protect you and Emma. That was the reason you saved the painting.”

  “So you’re telling me all I have to do is go to this painting and get my so called powers back? I think I’ve got enough to deal with, seeing spirits, let alone adding more craziness to my life.”

  “I know Tristan, it’s hard, and it seems far-fetched but you are not alone. There is a group of us on the other side. We are going to help you both. And you will never have to face anything by yourself.”

  I felt I should say something here, assure her she was mistaken, but I couldn’t. There was nothing to say. I was no man of legend. I was a chef and a painter with a knack for seeing the dead. That’s it. But I couldn’t deny I was haunted by things I couldn’t explain.

  “Tristan, believe me, the woman in the painting is Diamond. You are the painter. If you become close to Emma, you will access the painting’s power. It was no accident that you were born in Ireland and that you were born into the Keenan clan. It will all become clear in time. But first you must go to Diamond. We must do what we can. You’re going to have to trust me. I know you will help us Tristan. You are so wonderful Love.”

  Then before I could say no, Margaret vanished into the cool mist.

  67

  Emma Diamond, July 2009

  I adopted a dog. Initially, I had decided I would head down to the ASPCA and just a take a look; that was all. I would make sure my senses were blocked so I couldn’t hear them begging for me to choose them. Who was I kidding? As I strolled along the rows of cages, eager faces on both side of the aisle clamored for my attention, begging me to take them home. I didn’t need their thoughts to tell me what they wanted. Tails wagged wildly and I swallowed a lump in my throat as I passed by each one, knowing I would disappoint them. I was painfully aware at this point that there was no turning back. As I neared the end of the first row of pens, I saw her. Tiny amber eyeballs peaked out at me through a mop of tangled curly black fur. One look was all it took, I was hooked. She didn’t bark or yelp excitedly like the other dogs, she just remained curled up in a small corner of the cage. I knew immediately she was mine, and that I wasn’t going home without her. I named her Daisy. She was of medium height, a little bit chow, a little bit poodle, and a lot of mutt. I loved her with my whole being.

  The house had been too quiet since Granna had passed, but now with a furry friend to take care of, the place took on new life. The two of us took long walks along the beach and with my new buddy by my side, I found a level of contentment I hadn’t felt since Granna was alive. Occasionally we would meander past the building site where Tristan would one day reside. We’d watch the construction crew for a little while, until Daisy would get bored and tug at her leash, and I’d hear her say, “C’mon Mom, let’s go play!”

  The warm spring had turned into a hot summer. Heat shimmered in sizzling waves off the water. The sand burned my toes as I raced behind Daisy down to the cool, wet shoreline. I often thought about Granna. I still missed her, but I had finally come to terms with her decision not to change fate. Granna had never questioned Karma. But without her here to explain things, I remained confused about the future and what it held for me.

  I often thought about Tristan. I hoped he would arrive soon. I was planning on tweaking destiny a bit myself. Would it really matter if I tried to push up meeting Tristan? I knew in my heart Granna wouldn’t approve. I would get the lecture on how we mustn’t alter fate, etcetera, etcetera. Well, I was going for it anyway. I desperately wanted to reconnect with him. I kept telling myself no one would get hurt and I would have a friend and much-needed confidant.

  I hadn’t really planned what I would say if we ever met. He didn’t even know who I was. Well, not technically anyway. I sighed; this was getting way too complicated.

  Daisy’s barking brought me out of my reverie. I looked down and found her ball lying at my feet. I heard her tell me: “Throw it Mom, throw it!” I laughed and picked it up and threw it as far as I could. I never got used to hearing Daisy’s crazy thoughts. She galloped down the beach after it, her ears flapping in the breeze. She returned moments later, the salivated ball hanging from her mouth, her eyes wild with the chase. We continued the game as we made our way along the beach. I was about to bend and pick up the ball again, when some instinct made me look up. I was standing before the house where Tristan would live one day. The cute little cottage was finished and a U-haul was parked in the driveway.

  The front door was ajar, giving me a view of a long hallway crammed with boxes. My curiosity aroused, I began to wander away from the beach on a newly laid pathway that led to the houses. I called Daisy to follow; she raced to my side, strutting proudly with her soggy tennis ball dripping from her mouth. We approached the cottage, and just as I was mentally reviewing my introduction, Daisy lunged ahead of me, pushed the door wide open with her nose and disappeared into the dim interior.

  “Daisy! Daisy! Come back here!” I yelled
after her. Nothing. I sighed, I was just going to have to woman up and face the music. I swallowed hard and stepped over the threshold.

  “Daisy!” I called her name again. No sign of her. I threaded my way through the maze of boxes towards the kitchen. I peeked around the door.

  The little red tea kettle was sitting on the stove just where it had been that awful night.

  “Daisy?” I called more softly now as I stepped into the kitchen.

  My heart stopped.

  Tristan was crouched on the floor, petting Daisy. He looked up when I entered.

  “Lose somebody?” he asked in the lilting Irish brogue I found so irresistible.

  I opened my mouth to speak but all I could manage was “Yes.”

  It was official I was an idiot.

  He smiled at me. “What’s her name?”

  Easy question. I could do this. Come on Emma, don’t be lame.

  “Her name’s Daisy. I’m so sorry we barged into your house like this,” I squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

  Does he recognize me at all?

  I stood there feeling awkward; the air between us so quiet all you could hear was Daisy panting.

  He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “No worries. I’m Tristan, nice to meet you. Are we neighbors? I’m new to the area.”

  I shook his hand clumsily. “Sort of. I live further down the beach. I’m Emma.”

  Was it my imagination? I could have sworn he jumped a little at the sound of my name. Did he remember? Maybe if I said it again with more feeling…

  “Emma Diamond, actually. Crazy name I know. People even call me Diamond occasionally.” My cheeks reddened, I was babbling.

  He stared at me, speechless, then hastily regained his composure. Whatever he was remembering suddenly vanished into thin air.

  “Sorry. For a second there I…” Lost for an explanation, he turned and with two long strides crossed to the stove. “I don’t have much to offer yet but I’m sure I could rustle up some tea. What do you think?” He turned to face me expectantly.

  “I’d love some.”

  “Great,” he said. He gave a broad grin. “Is English Breakfast okay? I’m afraid that’s all I have.”

  “English breakfast is just fine.” I returned his smile. My heart somersaulted.

  I was in.

  I grinned happily at Daisy, who now had her nose in one of the open moving boxes. She truly was the best dog ever.

  68

  Emma Diamond, Two months later

  “No I think it needs more salt.” I laughed as Tristan painted my nose with some of the spaghetti sauce he was making. We were in his kitchen, a place we often hung out. He loved to cook and I was more than willing to volunteer my skills as taste-tester.

  “More salt? Impossible!” He tasted the sauce again. “Well, maybe just a tad more to please the lady. What do you think, Daisy?”

  Daisy’s tail thwacked the floor. She gazed devotedly up at Tristan. She was more than willing to comply with anything he said if it meant there was hope of procuring a tasty tidbit. I laughed as I heard her tell Tristan she loved him.

  My mind wandered as I idly stirred the sauce, leaving Tristan to the task of chopping peppers. So far, I had managed to avoid the issue of explaining to Tristan how I’d time travelled and met him somewhere in the distant future. Eventually, I would summon up the courage. But really, how did you tell a person something like that and make it sound believable? It wasn’t something you could just casually drop into the conversation.

  When Tristan had invited me over for dinner, I’d promised myself that this was the night. Still, we’d only known each other a short while and I didn’t want to botch the whole thing up and ruin our friendship. Tristan interrupted my musings. “Okay, I think we’re ready. Diamond, would you mind grabbing the wine?”

  “Sure,” I said. I picked up the wine and carried it to the table. No one had called me Diamond since Granna, but I liked it.

  The spaghetti was amazing and I dove right in. Between mouthfuls, we talked about Daisy, and how maybe later we would all go out for a swim to work off our meal. Just the everyday stuff, but I’d never been happier. Looking at Tristan across the candlelit table, I hoped he felt the same way. A twinge of guilt brought me back to the moment. I had to tell him the truth. Otherwise, it would become a barrier between us.

  I took a deep breath, “Tristan…” my voice cracked. I could feel the sweat trickle down my back as I felt myself filling with an overwhelming anxiety.

  We had moved to his lumpy, overstuffed couch, and he wrapped his arm around me.

  “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just that there’s something I haven’t told you about me,” I squirmed uncomfortably.

  He relaxed, a small smile playing across his face. “Well now, unless you’re going to tell me you’re a convicted serial killer, I don’t think there’s much to worry about.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” I said testily. “This isn’t funny, and you’re probably going to think I’m a nutcase.”

  He started to speak, but I held up my hand.

  “No, don’t interrupt. You see I have these—unusual gifts. I can heal. I mean really sick, brink-of-death people. Animals too,” I said, glancing at Daisy snoring on the rug.

  “Plus, I can hear people’s thoughts and creatures also. Loud and clear,” I glanced at him. “With most people, anyway. You’re a bit of a block. I’m not really sure why.”

  I took a deep breath, “Also, and this is the biggie, I’m able to control time. I’ve travelled back into the past, and projected myself into the future. With some practice, I may even be able to stop time. There, that’s all of it.”

  I looked at him anxiously.

  He was silent for a long minute. “You’ve forgotten something, Diamond. You and I became acquainted during one of these excursions. Or did you not remember that dashing Irish fellow from the future?” He grinned at me.

  I jumped off the couch, enraged.

  “You knew! The whole time, you knew! You saw how miserable I was. I poured my heart out to you, but you didn’t stop me. How could you?” I sputtered indignantly. I stood there, hands clenched with fury. I couldn’t believe he’d done this.

  I felt like a child.

  “Diamond, come on now, calm down. How was I supposed to bring it up? I figured you would tell me when you were ready. Besides, you only know half of the story. Come sit down,” he patted the cushion. “I’ll tell you the rest.”

  I was still mad but curiosity won out. What else was there? I sat. Tristan took hold of my hand.

  “Emma, I can only relate what your Grandmother revealed to me after her death. I have no knowledge of the details of how we met like you do.”

  “What do you mean, after she died?” I whispered. My heart squeezed in my chest.

  “I have a confession of my own,” he said. “I too, have abilities. I see spirits, people that have passed on. Your Granna came to me. She said it was urgent that she speak to me. She knew about my nightmares and how I expressed them in my paintings.

  “She wanted me to help you Emma, but she also thought we should be together.” He looked at me beseechingly and tightened his grip on my hand.

  I had listened, but now I was done. Of course I knew that he’d painted me, but I had no idea why. But what bothered me more was how humiliated I felt. My eyes watered as I blinked back tears. She had to meddle. Both her and Aunt Abby.

  I yanked my hand away.

  “I’m not a charity case. I know what you all thought. Poor Diamond all alone.”

  “That’s not how it was, Emma. Margaret wanted to ensure that our paths would cross. She wanted you to have a friend, a mate. You know.”

  “No, I don’t know,” I sniffled. The only reason you’re here is because my Grandmother insisted. I refuse to be your pity friend.”

  I turned away; I was infuriated with him and Granna. Truth be told, I was even more angry with myself. What a fool I’d been to tr
ust him. I glanced at his perplexed face. I had to get away fast, before I totally broke down. I looked over at Daisy; she was sitting up like a soldier, ears pricked. Her canine intelligence had obviously alerted her to my distress. I stood up and called to her.

  “Come here, girl.” In a flash, she was at my side. I turned on my heel and together we left the room, our heads held high.

  “Emma, wait! Let me explain! Please!” Tristan called after me.

  I ignored him. Once free of the house, I broke into a run, Daisy galloping ahead of me. Every now and then she would pause for a minute while she waited for me to catch up. On we raced, down the beach, all the way to Granna’s. It was our home now, I supposed. Mine and Daisy’s.

  Panting with exhaustion, I collapsed on the swing. Daisy lay down beside me and I gently rubbed her ears.

  “We don’t need him. Do we Daisy girl?” I murmured to her.

  The words were barely out of my mouth, when I heard a twig snap. I glanced up.

  Tristan.

  What was he doing here? He was hardly even out of breath. I’d forgotten he was an athlete. Damn his stupid, chicken-running legs. He strode over to me and pulled me off the swing.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I yelped indignantly.

  He put a finger to my lips to hush me, and took me in his arms, embracing me in a big bear hug.

  “Emma, forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I didn’t respond, numbed by betrayal.

  He pulled back a bit to face me. His eyes were filled with sadness.

  “You have to listen to me. It’s true I came here at your Granna’s insistence. I wasn’t that keen on the idea of forcing myself into your life, either. But the way she talked about you, I knew I had to meet this girl, but that’s where it ended. I had no intention of falling in love with you. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. Emma, I love you, even with all your crazy, irrepressible ways, and maybe because of them. When I’m with you, my world is vibrant and alive. You make me feel I can do anything. And your Granna, she loved you, lass. She did. You can’t blame her for wanting you to be happy. I think she understood we would work in tandem with one another, be two peas in a pod.”