Elementary Virtue
The Prophecy
Table of Contents
Summary
Prolog
Palermo
Toronto
Leyla
Coast of Sicily 1867
Santa Flavia / Castello di Solanto
The Magician
Ourday
Magdalena
Cefalù
Ana
Family and Other Disasters
Canadian Awards
Sicily
Toronto
Gaetano Belvedere
An invitation with consequences
Ana has Got It Bad
Accomplishing prodigies
Leyla's secret is not safe
Sicily / The Duel
Intrigue, Heartache and other Disasters
Dinner with unpleasant surprises and the planning of a Date
The Warning
Boozing up
Gary’s Best
Giada is coming
Aftertaste
The Crowd
Sliema / Malta
Arrival of the Milan
Chayton Moonworthy
Murderous Intent
Lerici, Italy 1997
Mellieha, Malta
Lake Simcoe
Travel Arrangements
Something big is about to happen
Dolce Vita or What?
The Tigne Bridge
Vultures in the fog
The climb
Clash of the rivals
The countdown
Emergency at The Volcano
Lockers Malta
The Reunion
Damn, Immortal Forever?
The situation might seem hopeless, but their story was far from over…
Summary
2nd book of the fantasy sequel - Elementary Virtue - "The Prophecy"
“Things look pretty bad for Gregory!
Everybody seems to be using him, but no one cares about how he is supposed to survive the Prophecy.
After he managed to escape from the Vultures leaving Leyla and his friends behind, more secrets are waiting for him in Sicily.
A grim magician enlightening him about his origins and another mysterious clan.
An amulet and an unexpected trip to Malta
Will he be able to solve the curse and fulfill the prophecy?
Will he manage to stay alive against the odds when it comes to the showdown at Mount Etna?
Will he ever get back to his normal life and see Leyla and his friends again?
Hardly ever!
All he needs is a miracle, but miracles are rare these days “
Don’t miss the third book of the fantasy sequel - Elementary Virtue
"The amulet" - Release Date 2017 to be announced
Prolog
Gregory struggled through the thick fog. From time to time, he tried to lift the fog creating a gust of wind. The toxic fumes got to him, and his lungs burned like hell. At the same time, it was freezing cold and his face was numb. Then it was burning hot again, whenever the new lava flowed from the volcano, and sparks were in the air around him. He had to be damn careful not to scorch his face and his body.
He got ahead very slowly and with great difficulty, and when he finally made it close to the crater, the first shots were fired in his direction. He ducked and was suddenly damn glad that the fog was so dense because up here there was no place to hide. He crouched crawling forward. When he had nearly reached the opening of the crater and groped for the amulets in his pocket, someone jumped him. Gregory rolled instinctively to the side, but the attacker grabbed his legs. In the whole tangle, they rolled to the crater opening, and Gregory saw the face of his attacker. He had never seen him before. A black boy with curly hair and damn strong hands was trying to get at his throat and choke him.
They fought bitterly, rolling closer to the abyss. Suddenly the fog was wiped aside, and Gregory saw Gabe standing further downhill, from the corner of the eye. He had manipulated the wind. Beside him, a girl was standing pointing a gun at the two wallowing bodies on the ground. Gregory could break free. A shot hit his left shoulder with a smooth penetration. He howled in pain. Who would have thought that his forces were of no use up here at the crater? The wind was more of a hindrance, as it pushed the protective fog aside, and water became ice up here and was therefore of no use at all. His attacker threw himself again like a predator back at him, but this time, Gregory was ready, kicking him with both feet hard in the stomach. The impact pushed him back, and he landed at the very edge of the opening of the crater, clinging to the cliff edge. Gregory crawled to the opening, trying to pull him up again, when there was a second shot and missed his ear barely.
Elementary Virtue
The Prophecy
© Copyright
by Sonja Wuthrich
2016
All characters, situations and events are fictional.
Palermo
My name is Gregory Rossi, and I don't have to worry about anything in the world. I'm disgustingly rich, and incredibly handsome. Let’s not forget that I am also sexy as hell! Top of all that, I ‘ve got the girl of my dreams by my side, and she admires my every move. I have to admit though she beat me up badly last time we met. Nevertheless, all I can say is, it was a misunderstanding, as I accidently tried to strangle her first. I know, I know kind of an awkward situation, but shit happens, and I thought she was someone else.
Now, we are laying on the beach, side by side, hand in hand. Above us palm trees and ahead of us, the big blue ocean. Everything is perfect as a picture postcard. It is to be kept exactly like this very moment for the rest of my life. I am sipping my Pina Colada. What more can a man ask for in life? A weird grin spread on his face. Then, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a deep sigh. An elderly, elegant lady gave him a annoyed look. She had been absorbed in her reading at the next table, and it was apparent that he had distracted her. Well, Gregory could fully understand her annoyance after he glanced at the title of the book, she was reading. Who liked to be disturbed while reading - Fifty Shades of Grey?
Unfortunately the truth was, Gregory was not sitting under Palm trees, and he only had about 100 euros left and some small change. That was all that remained of Leyla’s sacked savings account. He was forever in her debt, and he missed her like hell, it almost physically hurt. He would have to make sure that he got a job as soon as possible. He didn’t want to be a burden to Giacomo. He was sitting at Starbucks of Palermo airport slurping his hot Latte, and it resulted in a further sardonic look from the still reading lady at the next table. Wow, that had to be a real damn exciting book.
He turned around wondering whether he should call Giacomo or simply appear unannounced at his doorstep. He didn’t want to be of any trouble to the old man. His intrigued gaze fell on an opposite Photo Booth, made of orange plastic, the color changed steadily from, bright to dark orange. It was literally throbbing like a heart, fascinating and scary at the same time. Well, he might be going nuts. There was a slight possibility for that. As he was just a little confused because of the seemingly never ending flights, and the long journey. What he needed most now was a hot shower or even a cold one, considering the heat. He had to get a clear head again.
He hoped that he could catch a bus to get to the address Bernard Johnson had given him. He couldn’t afford to take a cab, and he had never been to Sicily before. He would have to find his way around to get to Solanto. Giacomo Benedetto was not living in Palermo City, but somewhere in a small town along the coast. Gregory sat there lost in the memory of the moment when he had said goodbye to Leyla at Toronto Airport. It had been a clear cut but nevertheless painful. The pain had spread
through his body and soul during the journey. His heart was throbbing with pain like the orange plastic seat of the Photo Booth that he observed just a minute ago. He imagined her having to deal with a lot more than their sudden separation. The Akandos questioning her about what happened, the distrust of the Vultures and not to forget her parents. They were surely angry about her behavior and the empty bank account. Probably she was grounded for eternity. His parents had been informed too, no doubt about that. He was sure that they would be on their way to Toronto, to pressure Leyla to tell them where he had gone off to. They would squeeze her like a lemon. His stepmother happened to get quite hysterical when it came to him. She showed an excessive motherly behavior at times, even though he was - only - her adoptive son. Leyla would have no easy task to avoid her questions about finding out where he was. He was glad that he hadn’t told anybody where he was going.
Gregory removed the SIM card of his cell phone, just in case, because he had no craving to be tracked down. He was just thinking about buying a Sicilian prepaid card for emergencies when all of a sudden a shadow fell over him. His thoughts popped back to reality, as he looked up startled by the intervention. He was surprised to see the elderly lady that had been reading previously, from the next table. She was indeed, an intimidating person. She was tall and bony, wore kind of a turban on her head, and her cleavage was hung with heavy jewelry. She would have won any competition against a Christmas tree. Only, it was probably too hot for Christmas right now. Anyway, she looked like an aging, dismantled diva that usually got her way. Although her black linen dress was badly wrinkled, there was something classy and imperious about her. That superiority intimidated him quite some bit. “Mi, scusi, se non mi sbaglio lei e il signor Rossi?"
He looked at her in surprise; No one knew that he arrived today, except for Giacomo. He got to his feet; “Si Signora, my name is Rossi. He didn’t want to tell her his first name yet. In Italy, there were as many people carrying the name Rossi, as there was sand on the beach. She made him understand with an impatient nod in his direction, she wanted him to follow her. Then, she walked away without turning back, apparently sure that he would be close behind. There was something ridiculous about the situation. As she still held that reprehensible book pressed fiercely to her chest, which didn’t fit her stern appearance. When he didn’t follow her, she turned around in an instant, twisting her deep dark-red painted lips disapprovingly. "Venga, come with me. It is my grandchildren’s first performance today, and the show begins at half past four, I don't have all day. I am not going to miss my two little angels' first stage performance. I have never missed a single first appearance of any of my grandchildren so far, and I am not going to start doing so today with these two." Gregory didn’t know how to react. Maybe this crazy old woman had escaped from a mental institution. "But I have to meet Giacomo," he said hesitantly, realizing all of a sudden, he didn’t know much about Giacomo except his last name, his phone number, and his address. "Che stupido, silly boy. Giacomo sent me. So, we have to keep going. I am running very late." She stepped forward with her head high, without looking back. He had no choice but to follow her.
He stumbled out of the airport building, having an immediate feeling to be stepping into a hot oven. A heat wave of incredible impact hit him, leaving him feeling dizzy. The heat did not compare with the sultry heat he had experienced in Canada during summer. It was a dry heat like he would have expected in the desert. It was early September, and he had expected a moderate climate. The turban lady was walking fast, considering her age. He had to hustle to keep up with her. A black Mercedes with tinted windows was waiting near the entrance. Gregory got into the back of the limousine, sitting beside her. The driver in uniform looked like a pirate with his golden earring and his dark complextion, or maybe he was some kind of Mafiosi? He looked at the turban lady giving her a short nod. Gregory cleared his throat saying, "Excuse me, but may I ask where we are going?" She looked peeved. Deep furrows showed on her forehead; “Naturalmente al Circo. To the Circus! Young man, you are asking far too many silly questions. I would appreciate if you could be quiet now. Before the stage performance of my two little angels I have to relax from all the exertions. -I am so proud of them -." She closed her eyes, Gregory didn’t dare to ask why she carted him to a circus, and he didn’t have a clue who these two angels were.
Finally, he wasn’t much into Angels since he had met - The Angel - back in Canada. Surrendering to his fate, he looked out the window watching the landscape. There was rarely some green, the land was dry, and from time to time, they passed some houses and a few goat and sheep. Gregory was a bit disappointed. He had imagined Sicily to be differentsomehow. Then after another half an hour the scenery changed, they had reached the coast. Along the coast, the landscape was wild and rugged. That was more like what he had expected. After another half hour, they were approaching a city. Interested Gregory looked around, the dusty streets and the bustling center, which were not essentially different from other Italian small towns.
The driver got over a headland. It led to a peninsula, where obviously a circus was stationed. Gregory read the sign written in capital letters on the blue and yellow circus big top. They stopped, and the old lady suddenly seemed to be full of energy again. She dropped the book on the backseat and got out of the car. Gregory had no idea whether he was to get out also, or what they expected of him. He decided to get out of the car and remained standing next to the car not knowing where to go. He looked around noticing - the city was spread around a castle, which stood on a hill and the view was simply breath taking from the peninsula. The blue of the ocean was kind of unreal like in a picture postcard.
Toronto
Kyra Johnson-Rossi was sitting at a table in the Food Court of Eaton Center with Quincy and Cyndra. Absent-minded she poked listlessly in her Caesar salad. Cyndra and Quincy looked knowingly at each other. "So, how are things going at home? “Quincy’s question was seemingly casual, but it had Kyra wince. "Ok, I guess." Then, all of a sudden she threw her fork carelessly to the side, pounding a fist on the table, having the dishes clattering, "Oh, it’s sickening!" Cyndra blinked irritated. She wasn’t used to such uncontrolled outbursts from Kyra. On the contrary, usually, she was the calmest person she knew except when it came to her daughter.
Cyndra got up as if nothing had happened. "Anyone for a cup of coffee or one of these delicious muffins?" Quincy only rolled his eyes shrugging, and Kyra ran her fingers through her honey-brown hair mumbling something unintelligible. Cyndra loved harmony and meditated daily to find inner balance and this afternoon there were apparent bad vibrations in the air. She was in no mood to deal with it. Kyra was apparently upset, and she would leave it to Quincy to cheer her up. She tripped away to get the desserts from the bar on her new sandals with the killer heels, which were a feast for the eyes, but uncomfortable as hell. There was a line of people waiting. Normally Cyndra was mostly in a hurry, but not today. She even looked forward to be waiting in line. So, there was a slight chance that lovely Kyra calmed down before she would get back with the Lattes and the sinful desserts.
Kyra’s eyes followed her, then, sighing she looked at Quincy. Her flaxen-blond friend, still managed to look fantastic, even wearing his black Adidas sweatpants and his Airmax sneakers. No wonder the two of them were in such a bright mood. They had no teenager at home driving them crazy. Worst of all Luca was always taking Leyla’s side no matter what she had been up to." Well, Quincy, Cyndra and you have the time of your life. You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to worry about someone, and you don’t have to fight all the time because you don’t agree on parenting that special someone." With a dull look, she stared at her half-full plate, and said, "Besides, my sister will get here tomorrow. In truth, I don’t know how to get through all of this. Yesterday I had a nasty fight with Luca. It got so bad that I almost took the door off its hinges when I slammed it with full force in his face. On top of all, Leyla spends the most of her time in her room and is no longer attaina
ble. For more than two weeks now! Sometimes I think that she enjoys being grounded." She looked furious. “But damn, we haven’t been talking about her constantly staying in her room.", she sighed again.
Quincy had no idea what to say. As it seemed, she didn’t expect any comment because she went on "I just don't get through to her, but I see that she is suffering. It is clear that she is terribly heartbroken and scared. If this crazy thing about that damn Indian tribe is true, which I still can't imagine.” Once more, her fist pounded on the table, and Quincy winced noticeably. "Quincy tell me what am I going to do? I can hardly praise her for emptying the bank account and for lying to me. From the day a child is born, nothing is ever the same again, no matter what people say. The days of being just a happy couple are history."
Cyndra had come back meanwhile carrying a tray with the desserts and the lattes. The two of them stared puzzled at each other. They had no idea how they could cheer their friend up. They just lacked the experience of having to deal with teenage issues. Leyla had always been reasonable so far, and Kyra never complained about her behavior up to now. However, this seemed to be old news, and she apparently did everything right now that she had left out in the past years. At least, it felt that way to Cyndra and Quincy looking at their friend’s miserable, sad expression. Kyra had even argued with Luca, which happened quite rarely. After almost twenty years of marriage, the two of them were one of these rare couples, visibly still in love.
Quincy felt uncomfortable, since Cyndra was pregnant, she was even more delicate than before. She took everything with a pinch of salt, and given the fact that her role model Kyra was having troubles with her teenage daughter was mixing up her golden plans of motherhood, and he was the one paying for it, by trying to calm down his hysterical pregnant girlfriend. 'Thanks very much Leyla,' he thought to himself. Why couldn’t this damn teenager at the least wait to cause troubles until after Cyndra’s pregnancy? Maybe he should try to have a word with Leyla. It would eventually help to calm Cyndra. He had no idea, but he thought if everything continued like this, his highly sensitive girlfriend would go nuts during pregnancy. Possibly, even cancel the planned wedding.
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