Destiny (Cornerstone Deep Book 3)

by Wilson, Charlene A.

“But they’re sending you there with Uncle Rhune until it’s fulfilled.”

  “It did have to do with Father, and as he’s not available, and I have the same abilities that he did, I’m called on to fill his position in the trio.”

  Rhune set his hands at his waist and looked at his feet. “The whole ordeal stemmed from Sylisan’s idea. When the group from Cornerstone Summit breached the portal, he saw the opportunity to...fulfill a dream of his. Learn about the people of Earth. He’d always wanted to be assigned there. Had requested several times, but the gods always refused.”

  Vincentor nodded. “Right. Dressen mentioned that when we confronted him at Shilo Park. He was seeing his past life at the time.”

  “Well…” Rhune meandered back to the window. “He spoke with Lilith, and after she agreed to help him, he contacted me. I was against it, flat out didn’t want to be involved with the matter. Especially with the Counsel fuming that the breach happened at all. As far as I was concerned, the Fountain of Youth seekers could meet their end for trying to outsmart their gods.”

  “Fountain of Youth?”

  “Water that revitalizes life,” murmured Colhart.

  “Ah,” Vincentor’s tone held a know-it-all-now air. “So he laid a guilt trip on you for telling them about it to begin with.”

  Rhune shook his head. “He offered me a chance at redemption for something that happened before that. The thought of regaining the love and obtaining forgiveness of my only brother drove my involvement in the endeavor.”

  Slight laughter laced Vincentor’s words as he asked, “What could you have possibly done that was so bad that Father stopped loving you?”

  Rhune smiled at the youth’s innocence, but he tempered the curve of his lips as he turned and looked at Jamesuranton. “Something I cannot be ashamed of only because of the outcome.”

  Jamesuranton clenched his teeth and met his gaze.

  The grin on Vincentor’s face seemed plastered in position as he looked from him, to his large brother, and then back. His arms slowly unfolded and then lowered to his sides, jaw fell slack, and if Rhune read his gaze right, Vincentor’s view of him over the past twelve hundred years changed in the flash of his eyes.

  Colhart’s brows rose as he clasped his hands over his waist, and then he looked at the edge of the cherry-wood desk.

  Rhune’s assessment of Vincentor’s change of perception proved right as a red glow issued from this clenched knuckles. “You… Mother… James is your son?”

  Jamesuranton growled the words, “I am not his son.”

  “You will always be my son, Jamesuranton.”

  Jamesuranton jumped up and the master chair wheeled with a spin, until it rammed into the bookcase behind him.

  Colhart quickly stood and stepped between his brothers and Rhune. His telepathic gift punched into Rhune’s mind with his retort. “We’re all Shilos! We love, we hate, we fight for what we believe in, and most of all we’re always there for each other.” Colhart looked directly at each of them in turn, and then held his hands out at his sides. “Especially when times are hard. And right now, times couldn’t get much harder. We need to put aside what happened over a millennia ago.”

  Rhune swiped his finger across his nose as a flood of appreciation calmed his heart. He knew Colhart’s view on the matter, they didn’t see things the same on many fronts. But Colhart’s show of support in light of the task he’d been assigned was gallant on his part.

  “Even if we’re reminded of it every time we look at Rhune,” added Colhart in a low voice, as if he’d read Rhune’s thoughts and felt he had to clarify his stand.

  Rhune turned his head and aimlessly scanned the magical trinkets on the mantel. What was he thinking? Of course he’d read his thoughts.

  Colhart set his fists at his belt as he shifted his weight. “What matters right now is that we complete our mission. Now. James. I can’t believe I’m saying this, because frankly, you’ve always been the rational one, but, are you ready to take on the responsibility of Head Sentinel and lead without letting your personal issues get the better of you? Because Kid would be next in line to satisfy the call. And I would have issues with that.”

  A slight sneer quirked the corner of Vincentor’s lips, but it disappeared as he looked at Jamesuranton.

  Jamesuranton straightened and placed his fingertips on the desktop. “Rhune what do you know of this prophecy the Counsel spoke of?”

  Rhune filled his lungs and lifted his chin. So much had happened recently to destroy the boys’ memory of their father; could he go through with adding yet another chapter to the book of selfish deeds? Then, what choice did he have? “There was one among the settlers who was said to be a sensitive to the spirits. When she received the Gift of Life, her talent was enhanced. She spoke of many prophecies and her scribe recorded them for posterity. One concerned the Allants…the name we were christened, which means High Ones. Many of the people deemed us gods and feared it would bring our wrath upon them if it was kept, so they buried it deep in a mountainside. Of course we knew what it said, the Counsel does have its ways, does it not?”

  He held up his hand and continued, “It spoke of how we, the High Ones, offered life, light, and knowledge to the displaced souls from Earth. How they were gifts that blessed them as they sought a new life among the folds of Moraine. But it pointed out that there was one who led a tribe that made a covenant with Knowledge—that would be Sylisan—to keep his line pure. A creed of valiance was to follow them until which time Knowledge would return and be monarch.”

  A red glow grew around Vincentor’s fists. “He wanted to rule over these people?”

  Rhune stepped into a turn, setting an aimless walk around the room. He was right; another bad chapter to the seemingly endless ruthless acts performed by his brother. He didn’t need to see the result of his nephew’s anger.

  “The covenant line of settlers journeyed beneath the crest of the planet,” Rhune said bluntly. “They took with them a line of natives who swore to uphold the pledge and offer aid. They live deep in the caverns of Moraine to this day.

  “But the gods love their children, do they not? And where acts affect natural eternal progression, they intervene. It’s one law my dear brother simply could not understand fully.” He faced his nephews and set his hands at his waist. “The prophecy speaks of a slave with gifts who will serve with meekness and seek to please. He will be favored and rise quickly in the status of slavery. It is said, ‘He is Allant. He is Knowledge.’”

  Vincentor held up his hand as he faced Jamesuranton. “Wait. Didn’t you say they named Father Allant when he was reborn?”

  Jamesuranton heaved a sign and nodded as he closed his eyes.

  “So you’re telling me this prophetess told everyone that Father would be reborn as a slave? That’s what you said, ‘He is Allant. He is Knowledge.’”

  Rhune squelched his cheek. “That’s right, my boy. However, few heard of that part of the prophecy. It was hidden long before the information leaked to very many ears. The prophecy also tells of a visionary among those who master, born of the Gift of Knowledge. These gifts were inherent as it turned out from others who opted to follow the clan after receiving the gift.”

  Colhart craned his neck, looking at Rhune behind him. “Are you telling me there are people on Midway Summit that have the same abilities we do?”

  “Not the same, Colhart. Only a small glimpse of the possibilities. Many have no idea where their talents come from, though a birthmark identifies these souls as sons or daughters of the tribal leaders who were blessed.”

  “Proceed,” said Jamesuranton without making eye contact.

  With a nod, Rhune continued, “The prophecy also foretells of a time when Light, Life, and Knowledge shall return, bringing with them an Angel of Love who shall know Allant and aid in his decisive act that will hold the fate of nations in the balance.” He let his hand waver through the air. “There’s more but I believe this will suffice for now.”

  S
ilence held Rhune’s words suspended as the three no doubt contemplated the information. Jamesuranton’s lips pressed into a tight line, Vincentor flexed his glowing fingers, and Colhart’s head eased back onto the chair’s cushion. Could any of them truly understand the magnitude of what lay before them?

  Jamesuranton nodded and placed his palms down on the desk. “As the gods have called for the Allants to gather and fulfill the prophecy, Rhune shall stand in for himself as the God of Life. Cole shall take the place of Father as the God of Knowledge, and Vincent shall fill in for Mother as the God of Light. The Angel of Love of whom the prophecy foretells will join you as she or he is revealed to us.”

  Rhune rolled his jaw and prepared for an explosion. “Vincentor is not needed in regards to the prophecy. Lilith’s soul is available, and the purest talent. She merely needs to be trained. The Counsel has not called on him to take her place.”

  His son’s nostrils flared, chest expanded, and nails scraped along the top of the desk as he bunched his fingers into fists. Colhart and Vincentor cringed in unison as they closed their eyes.

  Rhune lifted his chin and placed the crooks of his thumbs at his waist. His son may be centuries younger, more limber, and—dare he say—had a wee bit more muscle on him, but he had the upper hand when it came to manipulating the elements. Something can be said for added years of experience. And no one was going to come between Mechenzie and her destiny.

  Jamesuranton spoke through clenched teeth, “Coneko silyst.”

  The silencing spell released the room and morning bird chirps sounded from beyond the window. Jamesuranton tossed his hand out to his side, and Rhune flinched as the door flung wide. His son marched out, and Vincentor turned on his heel, following. Colhart leaned into his stride and then strode out behind them.

  A long stream of air left Rhune’s lungs as he dragged his palm down his face. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with his son. Heavens, he wanted to win the boy’s approval. What was it like all those years for Sylisan, to have Jamesuranton look up at him with hero worship in his eyes? Rhune could count many times he’d walked in on the two, only to have Sylisan look up to see him as Jamesuranton peered at the man with such a look. He’d read smugness in each instance.

  And who could blame him?

  To pursue a woman in wedlock was one of the most disgraceful things a man could do, soul mate or not. One held back. The next life could be spent in search of her. With the bond securely around her soul, she would wait, or join in the search. He’d crossed one of the largest lines there could be between Meridian brothers.

  But, Rhune had to wonder. Vincentor’s soul, now living his first lifespan, had to be created to fill this Sentinel family’s promise of three to keep the triad alive. What if Rhune hadn’t seduced Lilith? Would they birth yet another new soul for the family, and leave it with two inexperienced youngsters?

  Swiping his finger across his nose, Rhune sniffed. “Ah, I’m just seeking justification, am I not?”

  “I don’t know. Are you?”

  With a start, Rhune faced the door, and Linda placed her hand on a very voluptuous hip. “Seen my lover?”

  “You just missed him, my Terran Tiger lily.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what, love?”

  “Have to give everyone pet names? Elaina and Anna told me about it. I wondered what you’d come up with for me.”

  “Ah, well, you see, I don’t have to. It’s just a kind gesture I learned long ago, while on Cornerstone Summit. They called their loves flower, pet, angel, honey, darling… The list was endless. And I’d come to find I quite like the sentiment.”

  “Huh. Well, my name is Linda.”

  Rhune offered a slight bow. “My apologies, Leenja, if I’ve offended you.”

  “Don’t call me that either.”

  “But I thought you said it was your name.”

  “It is, but only James says it like that.”

  Rhune tilted his head. “Like what?”

  “Like Leenja.”

  “How would you have me pronounce it?”

  “Linda.”

  Rhune pursed his lips into an exaggerated try. “Leenja.”

  “No, Linda.”

  “Lenja.”

  “Linda!”

  The back and forth play with the name as he attempted to say it right almost bubbled into laughter as he tried once more. “Len-za!”

  Clenching her hands into fists, exasperation exploded from her like a roar, “Augh!”

  Rhune shrugged, hands lifting to his sides as he upped his brow. She turned and stormed out of the room.

  His humor stumbled from his gut in short chuckles. “Ah, Linda. You are a fiery Terran woman. Perhaps you should be called firefly.”

  Chapter Ten

  Each step Cole took seemed automatic as he trailed the hallway to his room. Pastels hung in his side vision and cast the faint sense of cinnamon crumb cake to his senses. He blinked as his thoughts jumbled next to the heavy pulse in his temples. Sandpaper coated the back of his throat. He swallowed, forcing his Adam’s apple to bob. It squelched.

  He’d spent the last four hundred years without his true love, the only woman to see beneath the fronts he often played, and now that he had her back in his life the Gods deemed it necessary to separate them. How cruel a joke. How heartless and ungodlike the decision was. Cole gnawed on his bottom lip as he neared their room. He’d broken both law and covenant. He deserved punishment. How selfish he was being in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn’t help it.

  How long would he have with her before the Council directed him to Midway Summit? Wasn’t he to serve her for the rest of his soul’s existence, watch over her, and protect her? How in the name of the Spectrum could he do that from another plane? It didn’t make sense. The Council acted as messengers, passing on the judgment of the Gods of Meridian. Yet, honoring the discipline set by another set of Gods was among the highest of ethereal laws. He clenched his jaw and attempted to set thoughts of his new calling aside.

  As he reached for the door latch, a soft voice penetrated the troubles in his mind. Leaning close, he listened carefully, as if being nearer would bring the telepathic conversation clearer to him. Another feminine voice joined in, and he tilted his head to decipher the meaning. Perhaps it wasn’t telepathic, and Mianna had someone with her?

  He quietly opened the door a crack.

  Mianna sat on the bed, peering at the diamond ring in her wedding set, and he realized he indeed heard the other person from her thoughts. But something seemed off. It wasn’t in Mianna’s voice, as if she was remembering a past conversation. Surrounding sounds came to him with clarity and as he focused more fully, crisp details took shape in his mind’s eye.

  A woman’s eyes twinkled as she smiled from beside a fruit stand. Her portly figure filled the brown and white folds of her dress, and Cole associated the style to that of the seventeenth century. Heavy clip-clops sounded in the distance and cemented his assessment. But why would this be in Mianna’s thoughts, so clear, so…real?

  A white gloved hand reached away from Cole, as if he were the person in the vision, seen through his eyes. The woman handed him a basket of fruit. “Will that be all, Miss Airabelle?”

  Mianna answered, posing as Airabelle in the experience. “I believe these will make a perfect setting, Mrs. Curtis.” She handed the woman five coins and then looped the basket handle in the crook of her burgundy, lace-adorned elbow.

  With a grin, Mrs. Curtis slipped the money into her skirt pocket. “Sir William is sure to be pleased.”

  Tilting her head, Mianna narrowed her eyes. “And what do you know of Sir William?”

  The woman’s ample breasts shook as she chortled. “Oh, only that he fancies you beyond any other maiden in the city. You do make a handsome couple.”

  “William and I are merely friends.”

  Cole shook his head as he watched what would appear to anyone else as a one-sided conversation. But Mianna st
ared at the shiny gem with such depth; he knew she believed it to be as real as him standing at the door watching her.

  Mrs. Curtis wobbled a stubby finger in Airabelle’s direction. “Now, now, Miss Gifford,” she said in a quiet voice. “You face spinsterhood if you keep turning young men away.”

  “Spinsterhood will be a welcome arrival if my soul mate does not find me by then. And so will my senescent years.”

  Her soul mate?

  “You spend too much time among the old,” said Mrs. Curtis. “You should leave that geriatric home and enjoy life. Besides, Sir William Burton could be that soul mate idea you cling to so.”

  William Burton… Cole filed through his memory to pinpoint the name. His jaw dropped. That’s Father’s name from one of his lifetimes. This is more than a memory; she’s reliving a moment in a previous life!

  How could that be? He’d anointed the ring with no memories, no charm to enhance focus or recall the past. In every way, the token of his proposal was simply that.

  Mianna set her hand on her hip and tilted her head. “He’s spoken to you, hasn’t he? He told me that exact same thing just last week.”

  The lady’s lips pursed into a little “O.” “So what if he did? I didn’t know Martin would fill my heart so fully until we’d spent years together. A love grows stronger with time. You’ll discover that you and William will be the same. You just don’t realize it yet.”

  “Mm-hmm. And what you don’t realize is that I don’t recognize him as my soul mate, because he’s not my soul mate. But he’s out there.” Mianna winked. “I’ll know it when he looks into the windows of my soul.”

  Warmth washed over Cole’s heart, and a smile spread his lips. He crossed the ingress and waved the door closed with his finger. The thick carpet hushed his steps as he rounded the bed. Sinking to one knee before her, he ignored the fact that she didn’t acknowledge his presence. “My love, may the windows of your soul always search for mine alone.”

  Mianna’s lips parted, and her lashes batted, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. She met his gaze, released a quick breath, and then swallowed so hard she gasped. “Cole.” Tears misted her beautiful blue gaze. “I’ve waited so long. So long. I remember…so many times I turned down those who would court me.”