Destiny Series Boxed Set

by Bronwyn Leroux

  Kayla studied the dazzling, intricately adorned medallion. It seemed to hum as it lay peacefully on her palm, generating a sense of wellbeing Kayla could not explain. There was no doubt it was old—perhaps even an antique.

  Octagonal and set on what appeared to be a mother-of-pearl base, it flashed blues, greens, pinks, and pearls when it caught the late afternoon sunlight. Set upon the disc’s base, an inlaid image beckoned, perfectly crafted and precisely carved, depicting a tiny, gold, quill-shaped feather alongside a flawlessly symmetrical jar fashioned from obsidian. The artistry was extraordinary.

  Reluctantly, Kayla reached forward to return the medallion to her mother.

  “Why don’t you keep it?”

  Her mother’s quiet offer startled Kayla. Overwhelmed, Kayla was speechless. Then, scarcely believing her mother would allow her to keep such a treasure, she whispered, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, honey. You obviously like it. And it feels like the right time. Only promise me you’ll take as much care of it as I did so you can honor the family tradition and pass it on to your son or daughter.”

  “Wow! Thanks, Mom!” Kayla hugged her mother. “That’s a promise I think I can keep.”

  “See that you do, or your grandmother’s ghost may come back to haunt me for being careless with it.”

  They both laughed, all too aware that if it were possible, this was exactly something Grammy would do.

  Kayla carefully set the medallion on her mother’s desk, wanting to be sure of its exact location while they finished unpacking. The moment the medallion left her hand, Kayla again noticed her unwillingness to be separated from it. Dismissing the idea that the medallion could somehow influence her emotions as ridiculous, she turned, intending to dismantle the last moving box. Absently, she rubbed at the birthmark on the underside of her upper arm, soothing the itch. Eyeing the boxes, she reconsidered, then began placing the items from the third group back into the box.

  “May as well have something to carry all these things in if we have to move them somewhere else,” she said, when she saw her mother’s raised eyebrows.

  “Ah, good thinking.” Her mother rose from the chaise, drifted to the stack of items comprising group one—the most important items—and began transferring them to the narrow closet.

  “Feeling better?” Kayla asked, noticing her mother’s improved color.

  “Yes, thanks. I think that little breather on the chaise was just what I needed. Also, once we pack away these things, we’re finished with this room. That’s more than a little motivation!”

  They finished placing the remaining boxes in the closet, then headed for the kitchen where the final moving boxes obnoxiously blocked the entry to the pantry, the last bastions of defense to completing their current move.

  Kayla grinned. “We saved the easiest for last.”

  These boxes held the many miscellaneous appliances they seldom needed. They were bulky items, and as a result, even though there were six or seven boxes, each would only hold one or two items.

  “No problem with space in here.” Her mother smiled, waving a hand at all the empty shelves lining the spacious walk-in pantry. “We’ll have these unpacked in no time.”

  Her prediction proved true. Forty-five minutes later, all the appliances were out of their holding cells and arranged in tidy rows along the topmost shelves.

  “Would you like help with dinner?” Kayla asked as she flattened the last of the boxes.

  “No, thanks, honey, you’ve been a great help today. Why don’t you play some of those games you’ve been so eager to get to?”

  Kayla chuckled. “I won’t say no to that.”

  Her mother was crooning softly when Kayla left the room. Content her mother was cheerful again, Kayla reflected that this result was worth way more than the effort it had taken to rid their home of the boxes.

  Detouring through her mother’s office, she collected the exquisite medallion on her way to her room. As she ascended the stairs, she brushed her fingers over the smooth contours of the medallion, again experiencing that odd sense of connection. Pondering this, she idly considered whether she might find any information about the peculiar design on the web. By the time she reached her room, she’d decided a quick search on the ‘net wouldn’t hurt, and that it might shed some light on the unusual artifact.

  Striding to her interface, she commanded activation and plopped into the comfy chair she had splurged on before they left their last home. It was marvelously ergonomic, and rigorous testing since she’d purchased it confirmed she had made the right choice. She could sit in front of her interface for hours without getting a stiff neck, as had been the case with her previous battered model. The interface beeped, informing her it was ready.

  “Scan object,” Kayla instructed, placing the medallion on her desk and using her laser pointer to outline the scanning area. Receiving the location, thin, red optical beams stretched out from the interface and embraced the medallion from all sides, accurately recording its every detail. With the scan complete, Kayla ordered an internet search. The search engine homepage immediately sprang up on her holographic screen. Satisfied, Kayla initiated her request.

  “Medallion. Lacquer finish. Engraving on one side of a quill and a jar. Use scanned object to refine the search.”

  A nanosecond later, the screen blinked. “No results found.”

  Kayla frowned. Impossible. Surely there must be at least one result? Maybe medallion is the wrong word. She repeated the search string, using coin instead of medallion. Flummoxed when there were still no results, Kayla snarled. So much for newer technology giving fewer results. Try zero results!

  Disgusted, Kayla decided she’d wasted enough of her precious gaming time. Information shedding light on the medallion’s history would have to wait for another day. The medallion must have been custom made for whoever originally possessed it in their family.

  Which meant it could be valuable if it was a one-of-a-kind item. An estimate of how old it was, or its value would require a visit to an antiques dealer. And what was the point unless she planned to sell it? Which was not what she had in mind at all. She planned on honoring her promise to her mother to keep the medallion safe. Always. With that, she loaded her game, donned her VR lenses, and immersed herself in the 3D cyber world of Rebel Combatant: Stratagem.

  Chapter Ten

  Jaden tried ignoring his mother’s voice. It was like an irritating gnat buzzing about at a summer barbecue. Struggling to emerge from the heavy mists of sleep enveloping him so cozily for the last few hours, the first thing Jaden consciously registered were his aching muscles. They complained, stiff after yesterday’s energetic arrowball game at the park.

  Thoughts of the game seeped back, and his brain began ticking over one of the most strenuous games he’d played in a while. And the girl . . . she’s something. Sneakier than a snake and she can take a hit without complaint. Yeah, impressive. There’s something undeniably appealing about her. His mother’s insistent tone penetrated the fleecy blankets he had tossed over his head, interrupting his reverie and sounding much closer this time. Better answer before she gets really mad.

  Throwing off the covers, he hollered back. “Yeah, Mom, coming!”

  His bare feet touched the cool wooden floor, and he stood and stretched, wondering what his mother could possibly want so early on a vacation day. Shrugging into a t-shirt, he moderated the short sleeves with sweat pants and socks to ward off the chilly morning air. Jaden verbally checked his PAL for messages while he dressed. Nope, nothing needing my immediate attention.

  Jaden wandered downstairs, hoping to find a fabulous breakfast, but was disappointed when he noticed the only edible item garnishing the kitchen counter was a bowl of fresh fruit. About to call for his mother, he smiled when she stalked into the room.

  “Oh, hey, I was just wondering where you were. What’s up?”

  “And good morning to you too,” his mother replied. A sly grin graced her face. “To answer your ques
tion, you know how we spring clean twice a year?”

  Jaden’s spirits plummeted. “Yes?”

  “Well, I know how you hate to clean your room when you’re halfway through your vacation, so I thought we’d get it out of the way early this summer and do it today.”

  Jaden stared. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No. I’ve given it some thought, and I think it’ll work better this way.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. Every year you complain when I ask you, so this year, we’re trying something different.”

  “But . . .”

  “Jaden, please, don’t argue. I don’t want to have to war with you just to get your room cleared out.”

  Her sharp tone warned Jaden he was skating on thin ice, but he couldn’t help himself. “Mom, can we please, please just do it another day? It’s only my second day of vacation. I’ll do it next week, I promise.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve already arranged for the donation drone to pick up our items this evening. We’re doing it today.”

  Jaden lost it. “What happened to giving people notice in this family? Or does that only work one way—for kids to give adults notice?”

  His mother’s eyes flashed. Jaden knew he’d overstepped his boundaries.

  “Jaden Jameson, you will do it today, and you will not complain. And because you already grumbled once, you can clear out the basement in addition to your room. Do you want to moan more?”

  Jaden gaped at her in slack-jawed horror. Not the basement. It has so much junk! It’ll take forever. But one look at his mother’s face told him that if he crossed her again when she was in this mood, he would truly regret it.

  Jaden huffed. “No, Mom, I’ll do it today.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly and turned to pour a cup of coffee.

  Jaden took a steadying breath, clamping his teeth together to stop the angry words from tumbling out. Food—I need food.

  Jaden focused on making breakfast, cracking eggs into a bowl and setting sausages to sizzling in a saucepan. I might as well have a decent breakfast if I have to work today. So much for just taking the days as they came. He tried not to slap his toast onto his plate as his irritation simmered. Why, oh why, did I argue? I know better. Especially when Mom has her mind set on something. Now I have to sort through the basement too. He briefly considered skimming through it, then thought better of it. If his mother caught him doing half a job, she might make him clear the whole house.

  Annoyed, he poked at the sausages. They spewed little fountains of steaming juice into the air in protest. One of the steaming jets caught the back of his hand and seared into his flesh, reminding him cooking could be a hazardous undertaking. He moved the eggs around more cautiously. The delicious aroma of a cooked breakfast began swimming around the kitchen, tempering his anger and elevating his hunger. He didn’t notice his mother leaving the kitchen as he transferred the piping hot food onto his plate.

  Sitting down and diving in with gusto, Jaden made short work of the feast he’d concocted. His hunger not yet satiated, he topped the meal off with a few slices of sweet, juicy cantaloupe. Full at last, he found himself in a significantly better frame of mind. Energized, he snagged a cup of coffee and loped back to his room.

  Where to start? There was always so much to sort through. Deciding his closet merited the most attention, he tugged articles of clothing out, evaluated each piece, and then relegated it to one of two piles: “return to closet” or “donate.” When he’d finished sorting his clothes, he moved on to his shoes, followed by his sports gear. While clearing out some old arrowballs, tripping over the now-toppled donations pile brought him back to his senses. Time to fetch a few drone boxes. He went in search of his mother and found her in the rec room, surrounded by pieces of fabric.

  “Have they delivered the drone boxes?”

  “Uh, yes, they dropped them off yesterday afternoon. They’re in the ’pod maintenance room,” she replied absent-mindedly.

  “Thanks,” Jaden mumbled, leaving. He couldn’t tell if she was still mad.

  The drone boxes were arrayed in the room, creating a synthetic rainbow with their pre-coded colors. Picking out a few orange ones for clothes, two blues for sports gear, and a green for miscellaneous items, Jaden stacked the boxes and carted them to his room. He placed the redundant items in their respective boxes and moved on.

  An hour and a half later, Jaden surveyed his room. It looked nicer than it had in months. He could actually see his floors all the way to the closet. And he’d found his favorite pair of gaming headphones—the ones he thought he’d lost. He’d even stacked his computer games in playing order so he wouldn’t have to think about what to pick first. He could just stretch his hand out and grab the right disc.

  Pleased with himself, he carried the full boxes back to the drone pick-up zone three at a time. On his last trip, he had one full box and two half-empty ones. Perhaps his mother could fill them.

  “These blue and green boxes aren’t full,” he informed her, peering into the room she was working on and showing the partly packed containers in his arms. “Do you have anything to add?”

  “I do. You can leave the boxes in the hallway, thanks,” she said, a hint of a smile on her face.

  Well, at least we’re making progress on getting her sense of humor back, Jaden thought drolly, dumping the last of the full boxes in the drone collection bay.

  He stopped by the ’pod maintenance room on his way back into the house, collected the purple and yellow boxes he knew he would need for the basement donations, and then descended to the depths of the house. Pausing on the brink of the basement stairs, he inspected the untidy space that had become their internal dumping ground.

  Originally, the single, cavernous room had served as a playroom for himself and his older siblings, but as time passed and they outgrew their toys, it had degraded into a storage area. Anything in the way or that needed repair found its way down here. Jaden’s eyes roamed the room, his gaze falling on an old game controller. Unbidden, an idea sprouted.

  Maybe we can convert this unused space into a gaming room. How awesome would it be to have my friends over for a gaming session with all of them in one room like we are at Markov’s? The more he thought about it, the more the idea blossomed. With an image in mind, Jaden began sorting the items closest to the stairs.

  If I can clear everything except for what’s along the back wall, the room will be large enough to project a huge gaming screen, have an airy virtual movement quarter, and have space on the side for cushy spectator chairs. I can even install a counter along the other wall for refreshments.

  So engrossed was he in developing the gaming room idea in his mind, he didn’t pay much attention to sorting. Not that it mattered. It was a fairly mindless task. Most things needed repair, but they’d been down here for so long they had outlived their usefulness. Jaden tossed item after item into the purple boxes, filling them quickly and moving on, visualizing his dream becoming a reality with every piece he eradicated.

  He had made his way almost all the way around the room when he encountered a shelving unit. One quick glance confirmed that categorizing would take time and care. Numerous bins filled the unit; no doubt some earlier attempt by his mother to sort the items into coherent groups. Do I have to go through the individual items in each bin?

  Yanking on the first container, Jaden assessed the contents: pieces of an old train set he and his brother had once enjoyed. He replaced the bin and tugged on another. Tools of various shapes and sizes. The third contained seeds. And so it went.

  Jaden was debating whether he should enlist his mother’s aid in deciding the fate of these items when he pulled on a bin holding assorted odds and ends. Something twinkled. Intrigued, he groped around in the general area. His fingers closed over something smooth and oddly shaped. Withdrawing the item, he inhaled sharply.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was stunning. A gold feather shimmered next to a glittering
black ink pot, all offset against a background of muted pastels in changing hues. He ambled over to the window and examined the disc more closely. It had eight sides, all of equal length: a perfect octagon. Some kind of clear enamel covered the whole piece. Lacquer, maybe? He turned the disc over, disappointed to find the flip side was nothing more than the base. Approaching footsteps made him look up, and Jaden saw his mother coming down the stairs.

  “Mom! I was just coming to find you—” he started, somewhat guiltily.

  “Sure you were.” She grinned, her face showing both surprise and pleasure at finding the room almost cleared.

  “I was too. But before I ask you my original question, what’s this?” He walked to her and held up the disc.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure. Let me see.”

  Reluctantly, Jaden handed it over. He felt a curious sense of loss as his mother took the medallion.

  She peered at it. “Ooh, I thought I’d lost you!”

  “You recognize it?”

  “Yes! Your grandmother gave this to me. Believe it or not, it’s been in our family for generations. Her only condition when she passed it on was that I kept it safe for my children. I’d always treasured it, but she had never wanted it out of her reach. Then something made her change her mind, and she relinquished it a few months before you were born. She said she believed I’d take care of it because she knew how much I loved it.”

  “If you were looking after it so well, how did it end up abandoned down here?” Jaden teased.

  “Remember when your father and I remodeled our bedroom a few years back?”

  Jaden groaned. “How could I forget? There was so much noise I couldn’t concentrate on that new game I had back then.”