The Diamond Bearer's Secret

by Lorena Angell

  The plane accelerates down the runway.

  In the short time of silence, I realize I miss Chris’s identifying scent of wood and citrus. That’s the downside of him being Unaltered. Maybe I’ll send his jacket away to a perfumery and have them create a scent for me. But that would mean parting with the jacket. Not a chance!

  I liked being around the other Diamond Bearers at the gathering and not having my senses assaulted by individual aromas. I wonder if this overload of smell bothers Hunters. Perhaps it’s normal to them. I personally don’t like the Hunters’ powers. My vision is too erratic. It’s like I have an uncontrollable digital-zoom feature on my eyeballs. For instance, I’m looking at Chris’s profile and my eyes instantly zero in on his jaw line. I can see each individual hair of his two-day beard growth. My vision tightens and I see the ends of each bristle and the slight angle the razor left from the previous shave. I find it interesting how his beard hairs are not all the same color and how thick they look—like tree trunks with crooked cuts. I look away from his face, suppress the excitement that builds in my stomach, and turn my attention to the small window to my right. I close my eyes, afraid the view of the ground that’s moving farther away may rush up at me. Why haven’t I noticed the full extent of the hunting power before now? I wasn’t aware they had such incredible vision.

  Crimson’s voice soothes my mind. Calli, you’re relaxed enough for the sensory powers to consume your mind. They aren’t stronger today than yesterday, you’re just more focused on them. The last few days were spent toiling and stressing, worrying about Chris, and so on. This peaceful moment will change soon enough.

  I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, I respond.

  As a Bearer, and my liaison, you’ll find you don’t have many boring moments in your life. In fact, you’ll come to treasure moments like this one.

  I guess I should appreciate the calm then.

  Yes. On a different note, you can go ahead and heal the scar on your chest from where the diamond entered your heart. The only reason you had the scar was for your parents’ sake, and now they know you have a diamond.

  I focus my thoughts on my chest and will my scar to heal. A scratchy sensation causes my chest to itch. Without thinking, I reach up and scratch my sternum. I feel different now that my original shard is gone and I have a full diamond in my heart. However, I miss the connection to Jonas. I don’t miss the excruciating pain of the movements of the shard. The Blue Diamond doesn’t irritate my heart like the other shard did.

  “What are you doing? Are you in pain?” Chris asks.

  “No, Crimson told me to heal my scar. It kind of tickles and itches.” I put my hand back down on my lap. I change the subject to get his attention off my chest. “So, when will you take me on a date?”

  “Soon.”

  “Better be. We’re going to be parting ways soon.”

  “But not forever.”

  “That’s what you think, buddy,” I tease.

  He changes the subject. “Calli, I’ve been trying to view the future, using the diamond, but I can’t seem to figure out how to do it. So far, all I’m getting is random snippets of other people’s futures. I don’t seem to have any control. I’m worried I won’t be able to keep an eye out for danger.”

  “Well, that’s not good. What I’ve learned is to look for a specific thing or person. If you try to view something too detailed, you’ll just see a jumbled mess.”

  “How were you able to see the future when you first carried the diamond?”

  I discuss with him the process I went through to try to figure out how to save his life. How I tried different scenarios and experiments. I’m about to say more when I hear Maetha’s voice in my mind.

  She says, Something important has come up. We need to communicate as a group. If you and Chris focus on my diamond, you should be able to hear and participate in the discussion.

  What’s going on? I ask.

  Focus on my diamond, Calli.

  I look at Chris to see if he got the message too. Apparently, he did. He takes my hand in his and lays his head back on the seat and closes his eyes. I do the same and focus on Maetha’s diamond.

  Mary’s voice takes charge. Jonas has discovered an Internet blog revealing detailed information about the clans. The blog recommends everyone wear obsidian. I can’t use my Seer ability to determine who’s behind this. The blogger must be using obsidian.

  Chuang asks, Has someone used a topaz powered with future sight to see who it is?

  Not even the Imperial topaz holds a strong enough charge to see the details, Mary says.

  What is the blog called? asks Alena.

  Jonas says, They are among us—all one word—dot anonymousblog dot com.

  Who would be doing this? Duncan asks.

  Mary says, Based on the information, it has to be someone from General Harding’s compound.

  I’ve assigned the Repeater to investigate the compound workers, Maetha says, even though it was Crimson who asked Brand.

  Jonas says, Whoever is writing this has incomplete information and comes across as being a paranoid alarmist. The comments are great. ‘Got a tinfoil hat?’ and ‘My ex ran pretty fast after I caught him cheating.’

  Merlin says, I found it. Looks pretty amateurish. Actually, the design choice looks female to me. The colors don’t scream male-designed.

  Jonas responds, That doesn’t mean anything, just that maybe a female designed the blog for the author.

  Maybe there’s more than one person operating it, Merlin suggests.

  Jie Wen says, The whole thing comes across as silly, in my opinion. No one will take this seriously. I don’t think this is anything to worry about.

  I’ll keep my eye on it for updates, Jonas says. Right now the blog doesn’t have a rank with the search engines.

  The what? Kookju scoffs. I can almost imagine his facial expression.

  Search engines, you know, Google.

  Merlin says, The blog has comments. That means people are seeing it.

  I speak up. Maetha, let Brand know to look for any connection to the blog when he investigates. Jonas, are you concerned with your IP address showing up on the blogger’s stats? What will it reveal?

  Maetha jumps in. It’s set up in Miami, Calli. Besides, he’s masking his identity.

  What’s an IP address? Chuang asks.

  Seriously? Jonas sounds frustrated. Have you guys been living in a cave? It’s the identifying address of the internet provider your computer connects with.

  Before anyone can comment on Jonas’s insult, I quickly ask, Are you able to look up who registered the blog?

  I already looked. It’s not specific. A lot of these free blog sites are like that.

  What’s the name of the site again?

  Actually, Jonas says, I don’t think it’s a good idea for everyone to be looking at this site. This could be a calculated effort to locate people with powers. Keep that in mind.

  Do you think the government is behind this, Merlin? Amenemhet asks.

  Highly unlikely. But if this site gains enough traction, the government will take notice.

  Jonas adds, If any of you want to see this site, bi-locate to me and I’ll show it to you. The fewer IP addresses showing up on their reports, the better.

  All right. I believe we’re done for now, Maetha states.

  I open my eyes and glance over at Chris. My insides are twisted when I see his self-deprecating expression. “That blog has information I’ve fed my father over the years.”

  “You don’t know that.” I try to calm his mind. “Your father was studying the clans before your power emerged. Stop beating yourself up.” I sit forward in my seat. “Who do you think is behind the blog?”

  “Whoever it is, they’re divulging classified information. They’ll be in big trouble when Agent Whitman catches them.”

  Crimson’s voice enters my mind. Calli, I want you to return to Brand and Beth and help them with this investigation. Chris, continu
e to the Pentagon. Merlin has found you a job.

  I look at Chris and motion to my ear to see if he’s hearing Crimson too. He nods.

  She continues. Several of the compound employees are working at the Pentagon as well. You can investigate from inside the government.

  I ask, Crimson, what do you see in the future concerning this blog?

  I’m keeping my focus on the long-range outlook. The future is still optimistic.

  * * *

  We arrive outside my parents’ home. I’m shocked to see my Mini Cooper parked in the driveway. Maetha must have had something to do with my car being returned.

  “Nice Mini,” Chris says and whistles appreciatively.

  “Thanks. It’s mine.”

  Chris walks all the way around the car, peering inside. “Is this the 228 model?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It’s fast and fun to drive. That’s all I know. I’m not a car enthusiast.”

  He finishes his inspection and joins me by my side. “Calli, do you think your parents will like me?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Chris. I like you and that’s what counts.” Truth be told, I’m not sure which of my parents will give Chris a harder time. I didn’t want to alarm him, but I know my parents aren’t going to go easy on him. His age will certainly be an issue with both of them. But they don’t understand that in the scope of things, our age difference is nothing.

  We enter through the front door. My mother’s voice is on the air from the direction of the kitchen. “This is Dr. Charlotte Courtnae. Yes, he’s a patient of mine.” She’s obviously on the phone.

  I take Chris’s hand in mine and escort him toward my mother’s voice. His reluctant feet slow our progress. Without warning, he yanks on my hand, causing me to spin around and crash into his chest. He steals a kiss . . . well, as much as can be stolen, before I melt into his arms.

  After a few moments, he pulls his lips away from mine and whispers, “Had to get one last kiss, just in case they ban me from seeing you.”

  “They’re not going to do that.”

  My mother’s voice startles me. “Calli? I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Chris pushes me away from his embrace, as if we’ve been caught red-handed. I have to admit, I’m a little confused with his behavior. I walk forward and hug my mother. Right off, I see her iridescent aura, like mine.

  “Hi, where’s Dad?”

  “He was on call last night. He’ll be here shortly.” She holds me out at arm’s length and smiles. “You look healthy and happy.”

  “I am.”

  “Are you going to introduce me?” She glances beyond me to Chris.

  “Yeah. Mom, this is Chris Harding. Chris, my mom, Charlotte Courtnae.”

  They shake hands and resume their comfortable distance. My mother’s mind is easy to read: He’s so old! Is this the boy Brand Safferson said would be our son-in-law? She asks, “Where are you from, Chris?”

  “Kansas.”

  “What do you do?”

  I raise a hand and step between them. “Mom, come on, we just got here. Can we wait to do this drill till Dad gets here?”

  “Of course, dear,” she says, forcing a smile. “Come in and sit down. Have you had breakfast?”

  “We’ve eaten, Mom.”

  “How about something to drink?”

  Chris clears his throat. “I’ll take a glass of water, please.”

  I nearly laugh out loud. Poor guy.

  His thoughts enter mine: Quit laughing at me.

  I wasn’t.

  You were going to.

  “So, Chris,” my mother says as she hands him a glass of water, “how did you and Calli meet?”

  Do you think she’ll take it well if I said I saw you in a vision? he teases.

  Probably not.

  “I met Calli when she came to the Montana facility.”

  “Oh, and have you kept in contact with her over the last three years?”

  “No, we met up again a couple weeks ago.”

  He’s only known her a few weeks? Oh dear. She turns her attention to me. “Have you had any troubles or problems from your appendicitis surgery?”

  “I’m healed, Mom. I was healed before I left the cabin with Duncan.”

  “You sure had us worried, Calli. I still worry.”

  “I know. I’m glad you do.”

  The back door opens and my father walks in. He deposits his overcoat and briefcase on the bench by the door and heads directly to the sink to wash his hands. I’ve watched him do this same routine every night for years. With all the washings he does all day long, I wonder why he has any skin left on his hands. I read his mind as he walks toward Chris. He looks strong, protective.

  Chris stands and reaches his hand out.

  I stand as well. “Dad, this is Chris Harding. Chris, Allan Courtnae.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” Chris says, clasping my father’s hand firmly.

  Good firm grip. Confident. Arrogant? Dad’s mental assessment continues.

  “Likewise.” My father looks at me, gives me a hug, then searches my eyes with his pointed gaze. “How are you doing? And don’t tell me you’re fine.”

  “I’m doing well, Dad. I’ve healed completely and don’t think I lost many brain cells.”

  “Good to hear.” He tenderly pats my back and indicates for us to sit back down. “Tell me about yourself, Chris.”

  Oh boy, here we go, thinks Chris.

  I feel his inward grimace.

  “What would you like to know?”

  My father gently coaxes him. “What do you think we’d want to know about the man who’s dating our daughter?”

  “Um, I grew up in Kansas. My father is a . . . was an Army general. He taught me how to work hard and with conviction.” Chris pauses momentarily. “My mother taught me how to respect women, cook, and clean up after myself. I love your daughter, sir, and will do anything to protect and care for her.”

  My parents share an impressed look between each other.

  Chris says, “I don’t really know what else to say.”

  My dad asks, “How well do you know my daughter?”

  “Sir?”

  Dad looks at me. “Is Chris like you?”

  “Yes. We met at the Montana compound.” I withhold the fact Chris also has a diamond. “Chris knows everything about me.” I place my hand over my heart.

  Both my parents nod their heads in acknowledgment of my secret message. I feel it’s good to practice not saying the word “diamond”, even when around my parents, from here on out.

  My mother asks, “Did you graduate from college, Chris?”

  “No, ma’am. I never attended college.”

  “Well then, what do you do for a living?”

  “I uh, I—” Chris pleads with his eyes for me to rescue him.

  I take pity on him. “He’s in-between jobs right now, Mom.”

  “Yes. I’m about to begin a new job at the Pentagon.”

  “The Pentagon.” My father’s eyebrows raise, and he nods his head respectfully.

  My mother prods the college issue further. “Well, do you plan on attending college?”

  “Yes, I would like to.”

  My father jokes, “Why don’t you just have Calli look into the future to see if you will?”

  “Dad,” I beg, hoping he’ll lay off Chris.

  “Well, son, it sounds as though you’ve been taught well, you’ve got good intentions, and my daughter obviously adores you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My dad settles back in his chair.

  My mom jumps back in as he backs off. “Calli, how’s Brand? Do you see him much?”

  Really, Mom? “He’s fine. I’ve been with him for the last several weeks.”

  “You mean, during the time when we thought you were with Janice Johnson?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s such a sweet boy.” And he’s your age, not an older man preying on young girls.

  “Mom, you know I can hear
your thoughts, right?” If she only knew Brand used to be the one to avoid.

  Her hand flies to her mouth as she gasps.

  I try to calm my mind before I continue. “My powers are something you may never understand. I know that. But give me some credit here.” I really hope Chris didn’t hear her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, Calli. I worry. We’ve given you every opportunity to succeed in life. I just don’t want you to miss out on securing your future.” I don’t want you taken advantage of, either.

  “Mom!” I angle my head toward Chris and throw a stern glare at her. “Your thoughts are not private.”

  Her eyes widen, even though she doesn’t fully understand what I mean.

  My father asks, “Calli, you are still planning on attending college, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I was worried with all the excitement you’d feel you didn’t have time for it. Classes start soon.”

  “Yeah, I know.

  “Calli,” my father asks carefully, “as I understand it, you can see the future. Can I ask you a question” I nod my head. “When you view the future, how do you know you’re really seeing the future, and not just coincidences? What I mean is, sometimes I can envision how something will turn out, but it’s nothing more than a 50/50 guess.”

  “Reading the future is tricky, Dad. However, when a vision of the future comes to me, it’s pretty clear I’m seeing the future. Like, for instance, your phone is about to ring. It’s the hospital, calling about the last patient you admitted just before you ended your shift.”

  He chuckles. “My phone always rings, and it’s always the hospital.” Right on cue, his phone rings. He tries to hide his amazement. Glancing down at the screen and accepting the call, his mind says, Huh, it’s the hospital. “This is Dr. Courtnae. Yes, increase dosage to seventy-five milligrams. Thank you.” He ends the call and looks over at me. “All right Calli, that was almost believable, but not quite. As I drove home, I figured they would call for an increased dosage. Does that mean I can see the future, too?”

  I see his point. “Okay, how about this. Tomorrow night at 6:42 it will start raining hard. You two will be on your way to the symphony and Mom will wish she’d brought a better coat. Make sure you look at the clock when the downpour hits. 6:42. Unless, of course, you think I might be on the roof of the car dumping buckets of water on you.”