Prophecy of the Most Beautiful

by Jones, Diantha

  "Stop hitting him, Mom! It's not his fault!"

  "Did you take my child from me?!" Her mother continued to scream, "How dare you! HOW DARE YOU! GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"

  Strafford grabbed both of Beth's wrists.

  "Wha' did you say?" He gave Chloe a questioning look that asked if he had heard correctly. "Ms. Clever," He said, "Please tell me wha' you meant. Wha' happened to your son?"

  No words could form on Chloe's lips, or thoughts could form in her head that could make sense of what her mother had just said. She stared back at Strafford, questioning him with the same eyes. Beth remained silent, like she had come to the realization that Strafford didn't know what she was talking about. His expression said it all. She was shaking beneath his hands and more tears welled up in her eyes.

  Just then, Ace and Swindle burst into the house, almost knocking over the policemen situated in front of the door. When Ace just shook his head at them, she knew something was very wrong.

  What's going on! She screamed inside of her head. She heard the Fates stir, but they said nothing.

  She felt the oxygen drain from her lungs. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think––everything was a blur. Her head hurt. She couldn't see anything. The Knowledge and images started to swirl around in her mind until they were nothing but a meaningless mix of colors. They spun around faster and faster and she swore her brain was swelling inside her skull. Her head throbbed harder.

  But slowly, the colors began to arrange themselves around each other. A picture was forming in her mind. She watched the image construct itself––the corners first, then the edges that connected them, then the center put itself together.

  It was the Minotaur.

  It was still and then it moved. It roared. Then lunged for her.

  "Benjy!" She screamed, running for the staircase, "Benjy! Benjy!" She felt Strafford's fingers brush against her arm as he grabbed for her. She heard her mother call out her name.

  She took the stairs two at a time, tripping over the last step, stumbling into the hard edge of the railing. She staggered forward and flung open the door to her little brother's bedroom.

  He was not there. Why had she hoped he would be?

  A familiar image flashed in her mind and something drew her to his bookcase. She started tossing books from the shelves until she came upon her little brother's Hercules pop-up book.

  She flipped through the cardboard pages until her Intuition brought her fingers to a halt.

  Scribbled across the pop-up picture of Hercules slaying the Minotaur were these gut-wrenching words:

  He's alive. For now. Find me.

  P.D.

  # # #

  About the Author

  Diantha Jones is a southern belle from Georgia, but resides in Washington, D.C. She is the author of the Unknowing ghost short story series and the Reaper of Bogota blog series. Prophecy of the Most Beautiful, Book One in the Oracle of Delphi Series, is her first full-length novel.

  Connect with Diantha Jones Online

  Author Blog: http://www.diantha-jones.com

  Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/DianthaJones

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/dianthajones

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/DianthaJones

  *****

  Oracle of Delphi Series, Book Two

  Prophecy of the Setting Sunrise

  COMING November 2012!