Divided (Bloodlines, The Immortal, and The Dagger of Bone) (A Fated Fantasy Quest Adventure Book 5)

by Humphrey Quinn

  Meghan raced out of the school and directly to the hospital, which is where she assumed Jae would be. Sure enough when she walked in, she saw Sheila and Mireya, who had just arrived as well. After a quick hello, she followed them to Jae’s room. It was surprisingly full.

  A couple of Balaton were there, questioning him. His family was there. Billie Sadorus had heard and stopped in to wish him well. She nodded at Meghan, smiling and leaving as her brother Garner stepped into the room. Billie nodded to him curtly. He responded with a clipped nod of his own. Meghan stepped to the side trying to avoid his glower, but he ignored her presence and strode to the bedside.

  Meghan waited near the back, for a moment to see Jae, but people were filing in and out for the next hour. Once, briefly, a straight line opened up between her and Jae, so she shot him a quick wave through the crowd.

  He did not return her gesture, appearing uncomfortable and annoyed by the many visitors. She decided to stay near the back until the right moment to approach him and while waiting, found it impossible not to overhear the various conversations taking place.

  “They say he nearly had the beast down,” one man spoke while exiting.

  “I heard he jumped onto its back,” another one said.

  One of the Balaton approached, shaking his head. “No. No. You've got it all wrong...” they left the room in a heated discussion. Garner tagged along, apparently eager to hear what had really happened. Meghan wondered why he was suddenly showing interest in Jae Mochrie.

  “It’s like everyone's suddenly got split personalities,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Slowly, the excitement waned and the room began to empty. The only voice booming around the room, a boastful Irving Mochrie, speaking to the one remaining Balaton.

  “A proud day! Yes, of course! Proud as a father can be!” he was saying.

  Meghan assumed for sure Jae would be smiling as his father said this, but instead, Jae just stared emptily out of the window.

  There was a gash along his right arm, which was already healing with the aid of some sort of magical goop, and a black eye to go along with his cut lip. He glanced and caught Meghan’s eye.

  She saw nothing there, just empty space… Jae was missing somehow. He tilted his head away from her, to what she could only assume was obliviousness or annoyance at her presence. It left her in such a sickened state she left without another word.

  CHAPTER 6

  Catrina Flummer sat comfortably, listening intently to every word Jasper Thorndike and Colin discussed. She wanted to take in everything about being a Projector. Everything that could help her, help Colin.

  With each new discovery about his potential, she could see flashes of emotion racing across his face. Having only been introduced to the magical world less than two years’ prior, Colin was now finding out he was a potential threat to everyone and everything in the magical and non-magical world. She could not imagine how this was making him feel, other than completely overwhelmed.

  “We discovered, many long years ago,” Jasper was saying, “a way to manage our powers. And this method worked very well for a very long time. The books, that we call Magicante, are a Projectors best friend… that’s a bad way to explain it,” he said, rephrasing it. “It’s a much deeper relationship than that.”

  “What do you mean exactly?” asked Colin, now wearing his intrigued face.

  “The books were created by the Projectors of old, as a way to store extra power. They were, in essence, a second soul. They became a part of the Projector. The book and the magician became one and the same.”

  Colin nodded that he understood and for Jasper could continue.

  “The main problem with being a Projector is that anything you can think of, you can do…”

  There’s his worried face again, Catrina noted silently.

  “It’s like this, Colin. Our minds have a constant stream of thought. Imagine those streams of thought becoming real, happening in reality as fast as you can possibly think them.”

  “So why isn’t that happening to me now?” he asked. He gazed around the boat expecting some terrifying or freaky thing to happen.

  “It is not happening to you now because you’re not sixteen yet. You could, if you wanted, wish something into being right this moment. However, right now, you’d have to focus to make it happen. Once you reach maturity, it’s as simple as a whim.”

  “I have whims all the time,” Colin spoke, his voice distraught.

  “And we’re back to I’m going to end the world again,” Catrina muttered, wishing she could do more to help.

  Jasper tapped Colin’s leg. “This is why the Magicante was created. The book serves as a storage facility for that stream of consciousness. It also serves as a filter, keeping what might be valuable and tossing what is… well, crap. Which is a lot.”

  Colin sighed. In relief, Catrina hoped.

  “I get that the book serves as storage for all the crazy, uncontrollable thoughts that might pop into my brain,” said Colin, “but can you tell me why these books are so popular? Since you sold me that copy during the Blue Moon Festival back in Cobbscott, which I wish I hadn’t left behind, I’ve been attacked and nearly killed. Why do people want it so badly?”

  “Because of an unexpected side effect. We had believed that once a Projector had died, the book would essentially cease to exist as well. This, however, did not happen. Once a Projector died, the book became a living dictionary of their accumulated knowledge, in essence becoming its own being. Once the connection was permanently broken, the second soul continued to exist. It did not have the Projector’s power by any means, but the knowledge alone…”

  Colin nodded.

  “More understanding,” muttered Catrina, hopeful that Colin was again finding his confidence.

  “So with these books acting like a second soul, how is it that Projectors went bad? What happened exactly? How do I make sure it doesn't happen to me?”

  Jasper contemplated his words before continuing. “By not being a fool!” he finally spoke vehemently. “Basically, what it comes down to is good old fashioned arrogance.” He took a deep breath and explained. “There was a small group of Projectors that believed they could do it better. Thought they could manage their powers on their own. This, over time, changed to why should we do it better? We are better. And people should know it.”

  “Like so many times before,” Catrina quipped dolefully. “Power. Greed. Desire to have more than everyone else. It has taken over many once pure hearts.”

  “That it has, Miss Flummer. That it has,” agreed Jasper. “Which gets us to the heart of it all. You have to want to be good. Pure and simple. You must lead a life of honesty and simplicity. Any desires you have can become your greatest enemy. The smallest desire, if nurtured, can take down an entire world… you must let go of these things and live in the moment. Never regretting your past, never desiring for the future. Always, always, in the present.”

  Colin swallowed as if attempting to down a dried up biscuit.

  “Colin, you can do this,” said Catrina, seeing his confidence crumbling again.

  “But I am capable of bad things,” he reminded her, standing and pacing in circles. “Look what I did in the E-Valley!” he reminded hotly. “I killed that Scratcher without a second thought to the consequences it might have! I destroyed the Goblin King and half his goblin minions because I felt like doing it! I felt like they deserved it.”

  “No. You did those things because I told you to,” said Catrina, lowering her head.

  “Yes, I suppose,” agreed Colin. “But it doesn't change the fact that I wanted to do it. I wanted that Scratcher to suffer. I wanted it to pay for its crimes. I wanted to prove to Eidolon that I could beat him.” He felt a rush of both fear and excitement at this admittance.

  “Colin, I knew what you were before we even met,” admitted Catrina mournfully.

  His breath caught.

  “I didn’t have the courage to tell you. And this was wrong of
me, but I knew it would be vital for you to know what you are capable of...” she gazed at him meekly, a thousand apologies would not be enough. “I see now that was probably not a smart idea.”

  Jasper nodded. “No. Understanding what you are capable of, and the consequences thereof, is how we learn. The fact is, Colin, you are bound to mess up. Possibly severely. But the good news is, nearly anything you mess up can be fixed.”

  Colin’s head was a whirlpool of confusion.

  “Colin, look at me,” ordered Jasper. “I am living proof that it is possible to overcome your condition. You can live a fairly normal life.”

  “This is normal?” Colin waved his arms around aiming at the boat.

  Jasper chuckled. “This isn’t my only home.”

  “Okay. So where do I begin?”

  “You’re going to make a book,” said Jasper. “Your own Magicante. Once your book is created, I will perform the ceremony that turns the book into Magicante, thus binding you and the book together, forever.”

  Colin nodded okay. “So how do I make a book?”

  Jasper stood up and motioned for Colin and Catrina to follow.

  CHAPTER 7

  Freyne Rothrock waited impatiently for his guest to arrive. When he heard footsteps scratching along the rocky ground, he called out, “Did you bring them?” His impatient voice ravaged into the silent night like a jagged knife.

  No one answered, but the footsteps grew louder and closer.

  “Did you bring them, Voskvol?” Freyne demanded, this time, his voice held a sharp edges of unrestrained desire.

  The one named Voskvol approached, wearing a heavy cloak. A hand stretched out and opened. His palm was empty and an eerie smile slipped across his face. “Did you really think I would be that stupid, Freyne Rothrock, the ninth of us?”

  Freyne returned Voskvol’s smile with a jeer of his own, before answering. “Never doubted for a moment, Romul Voskvol, the sixth of us... since you’re so particular to remind me that I was the last Grosvenor to be created.”

  Voskvol slipped the hood off the back of his head, revealing his gaunt face. It looked as though a thin layer of leather had been poorly glued over his skin. A scraggy scar slit across his face, eye to chin.

  Freyne slipped his head cover off as well. The bright moonlight made his aged skin look pale and thin and his face and neck were lined in popping bluish streaks.

  “Tell me again, Freyne, about your plan,” spoke Voskvol. “I want to hear it from your own lips.”

  “You’ll find no deception spoken through these lips,” barked Freyne. “Only the desire to survive this monstrosity that our fearless number one, Fazendiin has created.”

  Voskvol growled his displeasure at what Fazendiin had done. “You know this is why I am here.”

  Freyne nodded and continued. “Once the Immortality Stone was stolen from us so many years ago, after our creation, I suspected that keeping a few extra Stones around wouldn't be such a bad idea, and now I've been proven true. Especially since I was not alone in my thinking,” he grinned wickedly.

  Voskvol threw him a rough nod. To himself he thought, I always knew one of us would try to pull ahead in this race...

  Freyne continued explaining his plans. “I want to collect all the Stones still in existence and do what we did before. Combine them into one. One Stone, large enough to collect, store and use the power of a Projector. Only this will give us the edge against Fazendiin when he makes his stand.”

  “And just how do you propose we gain the power of a Projector? The young one is not yet ripe,” Voskvol spoke of the young Projector like they were fruit one could simply pluck off a tree and devour.

  “There is another,” slipped out Freyne.

  “Another? How do you know this?”

  “Let’s just say that our fearless number one has more enemies than friends…”

  Voskvol sighed petulantly. “Very well. But I warn you now, Freyne, if your plan fails…”

  “Oh, it won’t,” he spoke with malevolent certainty.

  Voskvol held out his palm again, this time, six small Stones materialized. “This includes my own Stones, plus that of Narona Fentress, the eighth of us to be created.”

  Freyne eyed the Stones greedily. He reached down and carefully picked them up, taking out his other hand and combining them with the others he had himself kept hidden. He now had ten Stones in total. Not enough for the deed he intended on doing, but enough for what he needed right now.

  He threw the Stones into the air, waving his hand around them. They began swirling around each other. Freyne backed away, his eyes wild with excitement.

  “Lungere unifirmare,” he spoke in a feverish timbre.

  The small Stones smashed together with a loud crack, and a bolt of light shot out from them as they melded into one another creating one larger Stone.

  Freyne reached up and grasped it in his hand, claiming ownership.

  “Thanks,” he said, his voice resembling a slither.

  Voskvol just stared at him, now bored and ready to return into hiding.

  “Oh, just one more thing,” said Freyne, creeping closer. Voskvol looked up but it was too late to react as Freyne thrust the Stone against his chest, directly over his aged heart.

  The power was like electricity, Freyne could not pull it away, not while Voskvol’s powers were sucked out of him and into the Stone. He stared Voskvol straight in the eye uncaring that he struggled to breathe. Uncaring that he was killing a man that had been alive for hundreds of years.

  As the power drained from his body, Voskvol began to look like someone had unplugged him and all the air was pouring out, deflating, being drained of his very life essence which left only a leathery carcass behind. With a final ragged breath, he slithered to the ground, a pile of skin and liquefied bones.

  Freyne stepped back, sucked in an energizing breath, and delicately put the Stone into his pocket. He stared down at the remains, nudging them with his boot-covered foot. “Thanks again, Voskvol,” he muttered. With a tug, the cloak slid up over his head. “One down…” he expressed with a diabolic creep into the night. His body shifted and twisted, fading into streams of black shadow, which charged hastily into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 8

  Kay Jendaya stepped hastily into her home. “Milo,” she called out. He raced down the stairs, meeting her in the kitchen. “Amelia has called an emergency meeting,” she told him.

  “Emergency meeting?”

  “Everyone is required to attend.”

  He patted her on the shoulder. “We must go then.” Kay’s eyes screamed concern. “It’s only been a month, no one can know yet,” Milo reminded kindly. “Sebastien often went undercover for longer.”

  She nodded. “Yes. You’re right of course.” She closed her eyes and when she opened them, wore a practiced smile. Her face gave away nothing of her fears over their son’s defection becoming public knowledge. “Shall we?” she said.

  Milo held open the door and they exited. They scurried to the center of their village, following others filing into a pavilion. The ground was covered in hard stone, which had been carved, to form long benches. In front of the benches was a small stage, in which Amelia Cobb stood poised to address them. Once all the benches were filled, those still filing in found places to stand near the backside of the pavilion.

  Amelia wasted no time in getting started. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she spoke first. “I realize that many of you are hard at work and I apologize for interrupting this.” She looked over the crowd surveying each and every member of her village. The already quiet crowd slipped into an eerie silence as if the entire group was holding its breath, waiting for whatever news she had to share.

  “Things are speeding up. The last news received from our informant is that Juliska Blackwell's hold is weakening. Her grasp, loosening. Her world, crumbling.”

  Excited murmurs whisked through the pavilion.

  “It's nearly time.”

 
“It's really going to happen.”

  “We're going to change the world.”

  Numerous voices called out or whispered excitedly to their neighbors.

  Amelia raised her arm for silence. “Yes, the advancement toward the end goal is most exciting. However, there is another reason I have brought you all here today.”

  Eyebrows rose. Eyes widened. Hearts raced.

  “There is a saddening subject I must now discuss with you all, and it will require your vote once the facts have been given. This is something that cannot wait and we must decide upon, this very moment.”

  Concerned mumbling rippled through the crowd.

  Amelia continued. “As we find ourselves nearing one end, and nearing a new beginning- this goal we have worked so diligently to bring about and sacrificed so much for- to see our dream become a reality... after all this, I find we are now faced with a terrible situation.” She paused, clasping her hands in front of her. “Last night, two of our members denied their oaths, relinquishing themselves from the cause.”

  Cries of shock and disbelief shot forward like arrows.

  Amelia shook her head, agreeing with their surprise and grief over this news.

  “However saddened, confused, and regretful this is, it is truth. But now, we are faced with a much larger issue. One I will need you each to think about, quickly and fairly, and decide upon.”

  Upon her speaking this they quieted once more.

  “Amos Durmuddy is the first to leave us,” she spoke in soft tones which were meant to lessen this blow.

  “Amos?” voices questioned.

  “This cannot be true!” another called out from the back, where the standing room only crowd stood.

  “He was as strong a believer as any!” another spoke, frightened that his betrayal could somehow spread like an illness.

  “Yes, you are right to be shocked by this,” said Amelia. “But it is no lie. Amos Durmuddy was a key player, no doubt. He held a high government position, which we will not be able to refill. We are not yet a part of the outside world. But I fear that Amos’ time in the outside world has somehow… disillusioned him,” she explained.