Then the fire starts and my chest warms at the sight of the growing flames flickering across the crushed metal. Vaguely I hear their cries for help, but push the sound away like an unwanted disease. Fear and death are in the air, blowing past me on the late summer’s night breeze. My chest fills with something. It feels hot, but it’s not painful. Whatever it is pours into me like water into a glass, and I shiver a little as I’m standing there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see swirls of black smoke rolling along the ground. It’s completely dark, no streetlights for miles on this stretch of country road. But I can see it. Better yet, I feel its approach. It’s a kindred feeling, a mutual bond.
In no time, Lor is beside me, standing up like a silhouette of a real person. It does not speak, it just is. Then I feel something on my shoulder, but I’m not startled. I no longer fear the darkness anymore. It is my freedom. And now that I’ve tasted it, I want more.
“You have done well,” the familiar voice whispers. “Charon is pleased.”
“How do you know?” I ask Nasiel.
“Look.”
He points a gnarled-looking hand upward, and I tilt my head back. Above are three ravens flying in formation, one slightly ahead, the other two perfectly aligned several inches behind the first bird. They don’t make a sound. They simply soar in the dark cloud-filled sky.
“Are we finished?” I ask because if this is what it feels like to be powerful I want to feel this way all the time. “When do I get my power?”
Nasiel’s response is quick. “You have it.”
Stretching out my hands in front of me, I look down at them. They look the same.
“It is inside. You needed only to trust in Charon’s word. Believe in him and his destiny. You are now of Charon, of his spirit and his power. He will see you now.”
What I did had to be done. I have no regrets.
A lot of time has passed. It’s no longer measured in days and months. I just know that many things have transpired since that fateful day.
School has started again. Students are going back to classes, celebrating holidays and moving on with their lives.
My choice was a natural reaction to all that had happened that was unnatural. A part of me wonders about what would have happened if I had made a different choice. She still wouldn’t have been mine.
At least this way, there’s a chance.
My feelings for Krystal haven’t changed. If it’s possible, they’re even more intense. The desire for Krystal deep inside fuels the anger that makes me useful to Charon. It’s not a bad deal, and I’m not complaining.
Tonight as I stand in back of the church, near the portal that will take me back, I look up into the sky.
The forecast today says there will be a rare sighting of the supermoon. It is big and bright, and in the distance I hear the sound of some of the creatures of the Underworld that walk the earth realm in disguise. They are paying homage to the moon.
As I stare at the giant luminous orb, I imagine what might be the lost dream. My lips don’t move, but I’m talking to the moon and hoping that maybe, just maybe, somewhere in Lincoln someone else is, too.
I hope she hears my words, and listens to everything that’s in my heart. I’m coming back for you, Krystal. I won’t live without you.
The words echo in my head over and over again and then there’s laughter, and I wonder if I’m just being a fool.
She doesn’t hear me. She doesn’t want to hear me.
I’ll just have to learn to live with that.
Don’t miss other titles in Artist Arthur’s Mystyx series, available now wherever Kimani TRU books and ebooks are sold:
Manifest
Mystify
Mayhem
And more coming soon…
About Artist Arthur
I am the first born and only girl in my family, and six and nine years separate me and my two brothers. Needless to say, I was alone quite a bit. But being alone gave me plenty of time to indulge my imagination in the world of books. One of the first novels I read was a young adult series that traced the lives of two teenagers in high school, Sweet Valley High. Reading those novels I thought I could do better, and so my quest to write entertaining stories began.
Being an introvert, it took me a long time to feel comfortable enough to let others read my work. How long? Well, the first person to read a story I wrote was my husband. Since then, I’ve been writing professionally for almost nine years now. But it was my daughter who encouraged me to write a book for teens—just one of the reasons I love her so dearly.
I live in Maryland with my husband and three children. If you take away the opinionated teenagers, family drama, overflowing bookshelves and DVDs, my life is pretty boring. But don’t take those things away, since they’re my inspiration.
I love to hear from readers and can be contacted at [email protected].
Learn more about Artist by visiting:
Her website: www.artistarthurbooks.com
Twitter: twitter.com/yabyartist
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1030-1
Mutiny
Copyright © 2011 by Artist Arthur
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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