As Dean looked at the Leomane, he felt a great respect for him. Dean knew Kala would do all the things he just said a king should do. Dean shook his head. “Kala, do you know the captain of the guards?”
“My opinion does not matter,” Kala raised his head, “the choice is yours.”
“Everyone liked the last king, right?” Dean asked.
Kala nodded. “He was a great man.”
“Did he pick the captain of the guard?”
Kala sighed. “He did. The king gave him a chance when many others would not have.”
Dean frowned. “You know what? I think you know the captain of the guards. Every time I ask about him you duck the question.”
“I don’t want to influence you.” Kala scowled.
“If this king, who everyone says was a good king, picked the Captain of the Guard, knowing he could possibly become king if something happened . . . who am I to argue? Seriously, he picked the—” A knock on the door cut off Dean’s words.
The door opened and a young soldier stepped inside. “Excuse me, Captain, but the people are calling for their king.” He saluted.
“Captain? You’re the Captain of the Guard,” Han yelled as he sat up in bed and pointed at Kala.
“You were leading the men on the Mountain of Hope,” Oieda said.
“Then he should be king, Dean.” Han clapped his hands together. “King Kala Panteoth!”
“It’s settled, King.” Dean laughed and Kala glared at the soldier who shrank before his look and then smiled as the Lion-Man burst out laughing, too.
The noise in the street continued, and one by one the companions painfully slid out of bed.
Dean hurried over to Oieda’s bed. He lopsidedly grinned as he held out his hand.
She smiled as she clasped his wrist and pulled herself up.
Dean slipped his arm around her, and she leaned on his shoulder. Together they walked over to the balcony. A great cheer erupted from the large crowd in the streets. The applause rose to a roar as each came out and bowed. Dean made sure Kala came last. When Kala walked out, it was to a fanfare of trumpets. The four companions bowed to the Lion-Man king, and the crowd silenced.
“People of Aeriot,” Kala’s voice rang through the streets, “Volsur is slain. His forces are scattered. Peace will once again come to the lands.” As he made this proclamation, cheers rose after each sentence; he had to hold his massive hand in the air and wait for the crowd’s cheers to die down. “Riders must be sent out to all the lands to tell of Volsur’s end and the tale of four brave warriors.”
“Five!” Han yelled. “Long live the King. Let’s feast!” he screamed.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The Heavens
Dean lay in the quiet room and listened to his companions sleeping. Oieda lay in the bed next to him. For the last hour he had been gazing at her face. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bring himself to shut his eyes. He just lay there studying every detail about her. The curve of her lips. Her delicate features. The shades of brown in her hair as it draped over the pillow.
He finally rolled on his back, stared at the ceiling just visible in the darkness, and sighed. Dean’s eyes started to close just as the door to the room opened. Carimus stood in the doorway.
“Carimus,” Dean slipped out of bed and walked over to the door, “how’s Panadur?”
“He awoke for a moment.” The old man smiled. “We have some things to talk about. Walk with me.”
Dean hurriedly dressed and pulled on his sneakers. He took one last long look back at Oieda before he quietly closed the door behind him.
Carimus led him to the castle and all the way to the king’s courtyard—the courtyard with the Middle Stone. Carimus stopped before it.
“Dean. You’ve done well. Volsur is slain. People are once again trying to rid this world of the evil that grew in his reign. It will take time, though. Volsur’s power was strong, and under his rule many evil things came down from the Barren Lands. To hunt them all will take a long time. But now that does not concern you.”
As Carimus said these last words, Dean felt as if he’d been struck.
“You are not from this world, Dean,” Carimus continued. “All the thanks in it could not repay you, and mine is all I can give. This world owes you more than anyone can ever grasp, but it’s time for you to return to your own. Again, Dean Theradine, my nephew, thank you and goodbye.”
As Carimus waved his hand, Dean wanted to scream, but he couldn’t move.
Carimus walked over to him, closed his eyes, then nodded his head. When he opened his eyes he smiled at Dean. It was the kind of sad smile you see people give each other before they part for a long time.
Carimus pushed Dean through the Middle Stone.
****
“Hello? Are you okay?”
Dean heard the words as if someone called to him through a fog. Something pushed against his shoulder. Dean scrambled to his feet. He frantically looked around and realized he stood before the Middle Stone in Panadur’s field back on Earth. The sun was setting behind the mountain. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. He gawked at a man wearing a large hiking backpack.
Ten yards away, on the little path, a woman with two children huddling at her legs called out, “Honey? Is he okay?”
The man held up his hand and took a step closer to Dean. “We found you here at the base of this rock. Are you okay?”
Dean stared down at his leather jacket. All the rips and cuts were gone. “No,” Dean mumbled. “It happened. NO!” Dean screamed at the sky, and the man jumped backward. “It wasn’t a dream. Carimus!” Dean yelled at the stone. “Take me back. I helped you. I helped you! I killed Volsur!”
The man turned pale and stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet. Whimpering, he frantically bolted down the path after his shrieking wife and children.
“No,” Dean yelled as he flung himself at the Middle Stone, only to crash against its surface and fall to the ground. Again and again, he leapt at the rock until his shoulder was bruised and tears ran down his face.
“Please. Please! I don’t belong here. That’s my home. Get Panadur. Get my father.” Dean sank to his knees before the stone and desperately pleaded, “PLEASE!”
He knelt, sobbing, on the ground for a long time then finally opened his eyes and stared down at his hands. They were balled into fists. The leather jacket scratched his face as he dried his eyes. He opened them and stood. Taking one last look at the Middle Stone, he placed his hand against it and walked away.
The sky turned a brilliant gold, and a breeze swept across the field. Dean dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His stared past his faded jeans and worn sneakers as he walked down the dirt path.
Someone giggled behind him.
Dean spun around.
Han stood at the base of the Middle Stone with his mouth open and his eyes wide. “That was so neat,” Han exclaimed with a little jump. “I woke up when Carimus came for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you. When Carimus sent you back, I ran and told Panadur. Wow, was he mad! He and Carimus had a huge argument, but Carimus finally agreed that you should come back. Panadur told me to hurry and get his son.”
Dean ran over, picked up Han, and spun him around. “Thank you. Thank you.”
When he set Han down, the Elvana continued to spin around as he stared up at the sky. “Panadur also said he still has things for us to do. Do you know what that means?” Han held his arms against his chest, and his whole body vibrated.
“What?” Dean asked.
“More adventure!” Han leaned his head back and threw his arms out wide.
Dean laughed, grabbed Han, and jumped headlong into the Middle Stone. As they tumbled into the darkness, Dean heard Han call out, “So that’s what the Heavens look like!” And they laughed.
< The End >
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DATA JACK
Acknowledgments
Thank you! Thank you for taking the time to read this book. I hope you loved reading it as much as I did writing it. If you did, please leave a review and let your friends know about Pure of Heart. Here is a link to my Facebook and Twitter accounts.
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I would also like to thank my wife Kathy. She’s fabulous. She is an invaluable content editor and I could not do this without her! My thanks also go out to my family who have always been there for me. My fantastic editors: Karen Lawson and Janet Hitchcock of The Proof is in the Reading and Faith Williams of The Atwater Group. My fabulous consultant—Dianne Jones, the unbelievably helpful Beta readers, including Michael Muir and Melinda Rennie, and the two best kids in the world Laura and Christopher. My thanks to them for all of their help, jokes and love.
About the Author
My name is Christopher Greyson, and I am a storyteller.
Since I was a little boy, I dreamt of what mystery was around the next corner, or what quest lay over the hill. If I couldn’t find an adventure, one usually found me, and now I weave those tales into my stories. I am blessed to have written the best-selling Jack Stratton mystery series. The collection includes “Girl Jacked”, “Jack Knifed”, “Jacks Are Wild”, “Jack and the Giant Killer” and “Data Jack”.
My background is an eclectic mix of degrees in theatre, communications and computer science. Currently I reside in Massachusetts with my lovely wife and two fantastic children. My wife, Katherine Greyson, who is my chief content editor, is an author of her own romance series “Everyone Keeps Secrets”.
My love for tales of mystery and adventure began with my grandfather, a World War I decorated hero. I will never forget being introduced to his friend, a WWI pilot who flew across the skies at the same time as the feared, legendary Red Baron. My love of reading and storytelling eventually led me to write “Pure of Heart.”
I love to hear from my readers. Please go to ChristopherGreyson.com. In the next coming months I plan to add free content, including side stories and vignettes involving the characters from the series. Please sign up for my mailing list and receive periodic updates on this and new book releases. Thank you for reading my novels. I hope my stories have brightened your day.
Sincerely,
Christopher Greyson
Dedication
This book is dedicated in loving memory to Theodore Ricci and Mark Geodecke. Two men whose teaching shaped my life and showed me the qualities a true man should have.
Pure of Heart
Copyright: Christopher Greyson
Published: January 9th 2015
The right of Christopher Greyson to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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