“I met your cousin, Joe.”
Bernie stood and eased his way toward the window where Anastasia stood. “How is Joe?”
“He’s good, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Bernie turned to look at Stephen. “He’s had a vision, hasn’t he?”
Stephen said nothing. A flood of emotions had filled him when he saw Bernie tremble. He felt the love Bernie had for Bernard and for him. Still, after everything, he hesitated to fully trust him again.
Bernie gently approached Stephen. “Was he touching you when he had the vision?”
Again, Stephen said nothing.
The large man grabbed Stephen as best he could and turned him face to face. “Stephen, do you know what they call him?”
Stephen had only seen Bernie this worried once before, when he was confronted about Bernard. Bernie was so intense that Stephen himself began to worry.
Stephen jerked away. “It’s not your concern. I only came to see if you had any additional information.”
“Information?” Bernie shrugged and shook his head a little. He pressed his hands against his own chest. “What information could I have?”
Stephen sighed, trying to release the tension in his body. Deep down, he had thought coming to Bernie was pointless. He was certain that Bernie had lied to Mighty only to protect his fallen nephew—Bernard. The Bernie Stephen grew up around would never hurt a soul. “Uncle Bernie, you must have seen something. Perhaps Bernard said something, or . . . didn’t say something. Anything will help. I just need some idea where to begin. We must find him. And it’s better if I find him than the others.”
Bernie paced for a couple minutes, mumbling to himself. Stephen, however, listened to his thoughts, trying to sort through everything that Bernie was remembering. Even though Stephen had released Bernie’s mind, he could see that his uncle still worked to shake the cobwebs loose while struggling to keep focus.
“That’s it,” Stephen exclaimed.
Bernie’s head snapped back. “What’s it?”
“Just now, you remembered something. It was vague and hazy, but there. Bernard wanted to bring me in. He felt it was the only way to save me.” Stephen ran to the door, but called back, “Thanks, Unc!”
Two guards went in afterward to take Bernie back to his cell.
“Stephen, what is it?” Anastasia hurried alongside Stephen as they went into the main corridor.
“Careful, Stephen. They want you!” Matthew called out in the distance.
****
Stephen and Anastasia hurried back down the corridor, each on a separate mission. Anastasia needed to inform the council that Stephen had temporarily released Bernie from his mental prison, and to inform them what Stephen learned. Stephen, on the other hand, wasn’t certain what to do with this revelation. He only knew that something needed to be done.
“Pft! Fallen’s plan, they never wanted me to join them. Bernard suggested that, trying to save me. They’ve always wanted me dead. That’s been the plan from the beginning. They don’t need me or want me. And if Bernard was trying to save me, that means he’s still in there, fighting for control of his thoughts. They don’t control his thoughts completely.”
“And you think that explains Joe’s vision?”
“Yes, I believe it does. I can’t be one hundred percent certain. But I am certain of this, I’ve got to start training my abilities. I know that history and traditions, rules and regulations, all of it’s important, but I need to reach my potential. Heck, you aren’t even sure if I’m a prophet or a warrior. How can I do what the angel asked of me if I’m not battle-ready?”
“I’ll talk to the council. Perhaps we can change your load and get you a couple private tutors. You’re right. We need to know what your primary gift is so we can proceed.”
“Thank you.”
“In the meantime,” Anastasia said, “I suggest you call Alistair and tell him to come back. We could use his gift, at least until we get this figured out.”
“Fine. But I don’t want the others to know, not until we’re certain. They’ve been through enough.”
Anastasia frowned for a moment. Stephen sensed that she had grown close to Patty and didn’t want to keep this from her.
Stephen threw his thought into her mind. You know it’s the right thing to do, for now.
She nodded and turned down the hallway as they went separate directions.
Chapter 4
Over the next couple days, Stephen remained quiet and refused to talk about the vision or anything else, only telling Patty and Vincent that he was waiting on Joe to piece together the vision. The two reluctantly accepted it. When Alistair returned, he provided the distraction they all needed.
A couple times, Stephen took a free moment and watched readiness teams vanish from or appear in Solomon’s Hall—a grand hall where tapestries hung depicting acts of valor from King David and his Mighty Men. The hall served many purposes. Most often it was used as a departure and entry point for larger teams that were sent on missions to fight known Fallen combatants. They might be sent to a war, or to stop a terrorist attack. Smaller teams would be sent for reconnaissance. Teams often wore black cargo pants and other tactical gear and carried various weapons of choice, but no firearms.
Seeing the red mist appear reminded him of his first experience with it, how odd it was to walk through and find yourself somewhere else. Since then, he’d learned much more about the mist. Red mist was a product of a designated vanishing point, locations which were used inside Enclave and various secluded places across the world. Often, normal people who might catch a glimpse of someone before disappearing thought vanishing point locations to be haunted. A blue mist could be created using an amulet or medallion that Mighty were given upon graduating. These would transport only the wearer from any point in the world, or activate the mist at a vanishing point to transport others. Watching the teams come and go made Stephen desire to be more helpful. He needed to continue training. And he needed to figure out Joe’s vision. He found it increasingly harder to focus on either.
Stephen wasn’t sure where to start. He found some free time when he and his friends could get together. While the men suggested the rec center, after some debate, Patty’s idea of going to the library won.
Stephen hadn’t spent as much time in the library as Patty. He often met her outside of it on the way to lunch or dinner, and managed to steal a glance inside once or twice. It was one of the more beautiful and grand sections of the Enclave campus. The woodwork displayed intricate carvings. Gold leaf had been added for details. Gold and silver wall sconces lit reading areas complete with brown leather furniture. And the library was huge, boasting three levels, complete with a magnificent crystal chandelier in the middle of it all.
“A-ha!” Alistair brushed his long blond hair from his face as he reached to pull a book from a shelf. “This would be a guid place to start, I think.” Alistair’s Scottish sounded a little weaker than normal.
He stepped off the ladder and handed the book to Patty. Vincent sat across from her. Alistair plopped his bottom on a corner of the table next to Vincent. After a moment, Stephen realized they were waiting on him. He left his spot—leaning against a shelf—and sat next to Patty.
“What is it?” Vincent said.
Patty had already begun thumbing through the first few pages. “It looks like it’s a record of all the known Fallen for the past generation or so.” She looked at Alistair. “You think Vincent’s dad will be in it?”
“It’s quite possible. Thumb through and see what ye find. It’s also possible the council thought he was deid. Those are separate volumes, up on the same shelf.”
Vincent grabbed the book. “You do not mind if—”
Patty cut him off. “Not at all.” She turned to Alistair as Vincent looked through the large book. “What is this section of the library?”
“This is the record of all Mighty, their stories, their achievements, and their failures. It’s not open to all Mighty.
I received special permission for us to be here. This area is usually restricted.”
Patty perused the shelves as Vincent, Stephen, and Alistair hunched over the book.
Vincent flipped to the index in the back. He ran his fingers down through the list of last names starting with A.
“He is not here,” Vincent mumbled. “I thought . . .”
“Aye, mukker. That’s guid news, right?” Alistair slapped Vincent on the back, who returned a stern look. “Or not?” Alistair looked dumbfounded.
“I simply do not know where else to search. This was it.” Vincent sounded hollow, more so than usual.
“We’ll find him. I made you a promise, right?” Stephen smiled. “I keep my promises. We’ll find him.”
The three men turned toward Patty, only she wasn’t there.
“Patty?” Stephen called out.
They got up, walked down the aisle and around the corner to find Patty standing with a book open.
“Patty,” Alistair snapped.
“Oh!” She jumped and quickly slapped the book shut. Patty scowled at the men. “You startled me.”
“Yeah, right I did.” Alistair stepped forward and took the book from her and placed it back on the shelf. “Ye aren’t supposed to be looking through this, are ye?” Alistair’s accent became thicker when he became stressed.
“I’m sorry. This is just interesting.” She looked past Alistair toward Stephen and Vincent. “Do you two know how sentinels—guardians—are chosen?”
“Yes,” they replied in unison.
“Well, did you know that once they are chosen, they are chosen for life?”
“Yes,” they replied again.
Patty looked disappointed. “Well, did you know—”
“Stephen, Alistair, there you are.” They turned to see Colvin. “I need you two to come with me. Joe wants to see Stephen.”
“I’m coming too,” Patty asserted. “And Vincent. We should all be there.”
Colvin held his hands shoulder high as though indicating surrender. “Okay. I’m sure that’ll be fine.”
They collected their things and followed Colvin out of the library and down the corridor toward Joe’s compartment. Stephen felt the tension all around. It made him feel even more anxious than before, although he already had an inkling as to what to expect.
Joe’s place was only a short walk from the library, but it seemed to take forever to reach their destination. When they arrived, Stephen was glad to see Jax there, too, only Jax wore a frown and his eyes were red and watery. The mood in the room felt much like it did at Waltz’s funeral as guests arrived, solemn and sad.
“That bad?” Stephen asked, as he sat down next to Jax.
Jax shrugged. The others stood around the room, waiting.
“Joe,” Colvin started. “We’re all here.”
“Not quite,” Joe responded. “We’re waiting on one more. Sam asked us to wait for him so he can report to the council and elders.”
A very smooth and emotionless voice came from behind the small group huddled near the door. “You may continue. I’m here.”
Sam slipped in between Colvin and Alistair, making his way to Joe’s side. Stephen cut his eyes toward Sam. It was the first time they had been around each other since the day he and Vincent became Mighty. Stephen had never seen Sam in regular clothes before. Still, he looked just as stiff in a button-down shirt and dress slacks as he did in the dress garb and council member robes. His shiny dark hair looked to have a little more gray in it than Stephen remembered. His goatee, too, was grayer. Or perhaps it was the light. Either way, it seemed odd to Stephen how Sam and Vincent looked and acted similar, but could stir such different feelings in him.
Sam glanced in Stephen’s direction, then back to Joe. He touched Joe’s shoulder. “Whenever you are ready, old friend.”
Joe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I saw a large group of jackals, as though I was looking down on them. There was so much movement, I can’t be sure how many. They were gathered together for a single purpose, to kill an animal. I don’t know where they were gathered. I couldn’t see that. It was too dark. As I watched, I realized they were fighting something—something fierce!” Joe’s voice started to tremble. He took another deep breath.
“It’s okay, Joe. We need to hear it,” Sam said.
“It was a large wolf, more powerful than any wolf I’ve ever seen. The wolf fought and tried to get away, but grew tired. Eventually, they overtook the wolf and celebrated. Then, there was blinding light, a fire that consumed the wolf.”
“Did you see anything else, any people?” Colvin asked. “Did you recognize anything at all?”
“I saw one face, just before the fire consumed the wolf. You and Sam need to see it for yourselves. Stephen, Alistair, since you’re both seers, I can share the vision with you two as well. The others are beyond my ability.”
“I think I can link them in, if it’s okay with everyone,” Stephen offered.
“Really?” Joe smiled for a moment. It was the first smile from anyone since they had entered the room. “That’s amazing. I don’t see why not, then.”
Stephen glanced around the room. He felt the collective nervousness of his group and Jax. Sam, however, felt different. He seemed irritated. With so much emotion, Stephen couldn’t be certain why. It was hard enough to focus as other’s emotions fed and heightened his own.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” Sam rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes.
Stephen focused on Joe, finding his thoughts easily opened to him. Colvin and Sam were already there. Alistair joined next. Stephen found the thoughts of Vincent, Jax, and Patty, and pulled them in too. They were all seeing the same thing, as though they were above it all, watching it unfold. It happened just as Joe said. Near the end, when the wolf was defeated, a man with long salt-and-pepper hair walked up to the pack and looked to the sky. Then, there was a bright light, like lightning. The wolf was gone.
Everyone in the room remained quiet. Stephen wasn’t sure what he had just seen. He searched the room for feelings. Patty, Alistair, and Jax were just as bewildered as he was. Then, he felt something else—fear. He looked at Vincent, whose usual pale face appeared whiter than normal. Colvin and Sam also stared at Vincent.
Stephen asked, “Vincent, what is it?”
“It’s William, isn’t it?” Colvin said.
Sam nodded.
Joe made a clicking sound and shook his head. “I knew it! I hoped I was wrong.”
Stephen felt in the dark, not knowing who William was. He could have plucked the answer from one of their heads. But Mighty didn’t enjoy others in their head all the time.
“Who’s William?” Stephen asked, trying not to sound irritated.
“William . . . Anthony . . . Abate,” Vincent said.
“Your dad?” Stephen stood, as though this would help him think.
“But there’s more, right?” Alistair asked. “What does it mean—wolf and all?”
Everyone looked at Joe, who then pointed to Stephen. “He’s the lone wolf.” Joe paused for a moment, licking his lips. Jax grabbed a cup of water and placed it in his father’s hand. Joe took a sip and handed it back.
“Stephen,” Joe continued, “you are more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met or seen. But, from what I hear, you tend to want to do everything yourself. If you don’t start including others, I’m afraid the vision shows what will happen. The jackals are Fallen. Somewhere, Fallen is laying a trap for you, and you alone. They will hunt you. They will find you, and kill you.”
“And, Father? He kills Stephen?” Vincent stepped forward from the others, toward Joe, who said nothing. Vincent got louder. “Does he kill Stephen?”
Vincent shook, fists clenched. Stephen peered inside Vincent for a moment. All the mixed emotions, uncertainty, anger, and excitement were running rampant, feeding Vincent’s natural need to protect.
“I’m sorry, Vincent. I don’t know for sure. I meditated for days, wai
ting for the Spirit to give me the meaning of the vision. This is all I have. There is no more. William’s involvement is uncertain.”
“The council must have some idea where the bloody traitor is.” Alistair looked flushed.
“Sam,” Colvin interceded, “does the council know anything?”
“No,” Sam replied.
“Nothing?” Alistair said.
“Nothing,” Sam snapped. He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “We thought William was dead long ago. Then we learned of Vincent just shortly after we heard of Stephen. After that, we’ve searched for something, some clue as to what happened to Anthony. Vincent’s testimony is the first and only that indicates he has fallen.”
Vincent looked as though someone slapped him across the face. He shook his head. “What?”
Sam stood, placing his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “We knew nothing of his marriage to Elizabeth, nor was he ever considered Fallen.” Sam’s voice softened. “We’re still trying to piece it all together. It doesn’t make sense. Priest rarely fall. The last known priest to fall was Gregor Machiavelli, more than twenty years ago.”
“Machiavelli? As in Niccolò Machiavelli?” Stephen said.
Colvin nodded. “Yes. For a priest to fall, it has to be out of desire, an intentional willingness to seek power over God. Priests aren’t perfect. But as protectors, they are the moral compass for Mighty, which keeps them on track too.”
“Colvin,” Sam spoke up, “I’d like you to come to the council with me. They’ll want more than one witness.”
Colvin nodded.
“I’ll come,” Stephen added.
“I will too,” Vincent said.
“No,” Sam replied. “We only need the two of us. Stephen, Vincent, you both need to rest. You’ll start training your gifts tomorrow.” Sam and Colvin walked toward the door. Sam paused in the doorway. “Stephen, you’ll have two trainers for your gifts.”
“Understood,” Stephen replied.
Sam disappeared into the hallway. Stephen, Vincent, Alistair, and Patty all stood looking at each other.
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 33
