Gaia’s Secret
By Barbara Kloss
Copyright 2011 Barbara Kloss
Smashwords Edition
Cover art by Ben Kloss
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
For my best friend, Ben, who ignited the spark.
I love you.
Table of Contents
Title and Copyright
Dedication
Map
Chapter 1 - The Unexpected
Chapter 2 - Lost Secrets
Chapter 3 - Enough is Enough
Chapter 4 - The Andersons
Chapter 5 - The Portal
Chapter 6 - Gaia
Chapter 7 - Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
Chapter 8 - Preparations
Chapter 9 - Rook
Chapter 10 - Rex Cross
Chapter 11 - An Uncomfortable Night
Chapter 12 - Magical Missives
Chapter 13 - Flame
Chapter 14 - Off the Beaten Path
Chapter 15 - The Shadow's Creatures
Chapter 16 - Awkward Beginnings
Chapter 17 - The Fiori
Chapter 18 - The Festival of Lights
Chapter 19 - Competition is Ugly
Chapter 20 - Misleadings
Chapter 21 - The Black Bard
Chapter 22 - Amadis
Chapter 23 - Lord Tiernan
Chapter 24 - Escape
Chapter 25 - Return to Amadis
Chapter 26 - Clarity
Chapter 27 - Valdon
Chapter 28 - King Darius
Chapter 29 - Glittering Captivity
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Map
(a segment from Gaia's Orbis Terrarum)
Chapter 1
The Unexpected
A bolt of blue light exploded from the bruised clouds above, and Cadence froze.
No, she didn’t stop. She didn’t slow or jerk to a halt. She just…froze, with her front legs clawing at the air and her mane splayed in chaos like it was styled that way. And what was worse, I was frozen, too.
My body hovered inches from the saddle and my dark hair floated in a cloud around my face. I tried to wiggle my fingers off the horn but they wouldn’t move. Nothing would move. I couldn’t even blink.
It was like my mind existed in another dimension, like someone hit the pause button on my life and time came to an abrupt halt. And I was watching it as an outsider.
But what was that light?
I searched the golden fields and there, way off in the distance, was a shadow. Not a scorch mark, but a shadow. A man veiled in a black cloak. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel him watching me. My blood ran cold. Strangers didn’t frequent these parts, and when they did, they wore Wranglers and cowboy boots. Not cloaks.
Something burned in my hands and I glanced down. The horn was…glowing. The crystal, the one buried in the tip, radiated a blue light. It pulsed with life and singed my hands, but I couldn’t pull them off. They were stuck, clamped around the horn.
I looked back towards the shadow and wanted to scream.
I hadn’t seen him move, but he was closer. He just appeared, a few hundred yards away, and now I could see his face. He didn’t have any hair and the bones in his face were sharp and emaciated. His skin was so pale it looked blue and where his eyes should’ve been were two black, empty pits.
But I felt him staring at me.
Slowly, he raised his arms to the sky. The air around me pulsed and in one sweep, he brought his arms down. The grass flattened before him as if being pushed down by an invisible force. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even scream.
The force barreled through the fields like a wave, flattening everything in sight. It would only be a matter of seconds before it hit me. The horn of the saddle singed my palms but still, I couldn’t let go. It burned and burned, sending fire up my arms.
Twenty yards…ten yards…
I braced for contact.
Sharp pressure engulfed me and the light in my palms blazed white. Air exploded in my ears with a cry of fury, and everything went silent. When I looked back, the man was gone.
The clouds vanished, the sun shone brightly, and Cadence ran on like she never stopped. Birds chirped overhead and the breeze whipped the hair in my face. I looked down but the glow in the horn was gone. There was no sign of what happened, nothing.
Had I imagined it?
I think I need to get more sleep.
I brought Cadence to a halt. I lifted my hand to wipe the sweat from my brow, and froze. There, seared along my index finger was the faint outline of the crystal.
I never knew my mom. The day I came into the world, she went out of it. At least, that’s what Dad always said. Asking him about it never did any good. Even after all these years his forehead would do that crinkly thing, his lips would fold into themselves and his eyes would glaze over. And then he wouldn’t say another word to me. For about a day.
Dad was private about, well, a lot of things. I assumed that was why he moved us to the middle of nowhere, otherwise known as Fresno, California. Living in the middle of nowhere meant having more conversations with cows than people. And staining your skin forever with the stench of manure and hay. And not needing an alarm clock because your neighbors had roosters so loud you could swear they woke up all of China. But I learned to deal with it because I thought it would end. Right now, actually. I thought I’d get my freedom right when I graduated high school.
Actually, let me rephrase that: I just finished high school. Graduating implies that huge ceremony with caps and gowns and some person on a stage handing you a rolled up diploma. Graduating implies celebrating with all of your friends and being excited about where you were going to go next. And, let’s be honest, none of that happens when you live on a farm and you’ve been home-schooled all your life. All I did was take an exam. No cap and gown. No friends. No ceremony. I guess if I’d really wanted to have a celebration, I could’ve invited the neighbors. All five of them. And their stupid roosters. Some party.
What would we celebrate anyway? My future? I have no future plans, thanks to Dad. I can’t figure out why he cares. He’s gone most of the time on international business anyway. You’d think a successful businessman would want to see his only daughter excel on her own. Apparently not. I probably would’ve driven myself to San Francisco by now and flown out of here, but he won’t even let me get my drivers license. I don’t know where I’d even go, but I’d go somewhere. Preferably somewhere without cows.
Now, before you jump to conclusions, let me clarify that my dad’s not a tyrant or anything. He just happens to suffer from a severe case of overprotection. Everyone thinks their parents are overprotective, I know, but mine installed video and thermal surveillance in our house, around the perimeter, and a few miles down the road. You be the judge.
So, you can imagine how well he reacted when I told him my plans to study abroad. Actually, I couldn’t say anything about my future without that same look crossing his face like it does when I ask him about mom. But I had to. Thinking about being stuck here any longer gave me this drowning sense of despair, like the world was charging forward, leaving me behind. In a pile of manure. Was it possible to devolve?
And what was my reward for finishing high school? Dessert. By itself, dessert wasn’t so bad. But this was dessert at the home of my worst
enemy.
My stomach did a flip. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to go. When Dad came home early from Rome, I knew he had something up his sleeve. I thought it had to do with my future: that maybe he was finally ready to talk about it. But no. He had decided to torture me instead.
“I’ll be in the car!” Dad yelled from the hall.
Why was I so nervous? I hadn’t seen Mr. and Mrs. Anderson in years. Three, to be exact. But it wasn’t like he was going to be there. He’d made it pretty clear three years ago that he hated me, and had proved it by never speaking to me again. Actually, not speaking to me would have been the nicer thing to do. He just disappeared. Somehow apathy hurt a lot more than hatred.
It was no use. All of my clothes were stained with Eau de Farm. I put on my only white blouse and dug through my creaky wooden drawers until I found a pair of jeans that didn’t look like they’d been attacked by a barbed wire fence. I hid the tears along the bottom of my pant leg with a clean pair of riding boots, pulled my long, dark hair back into a braid, and paused to look in the mirror.
I looked as nervous as I felt.
There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. They’re like another set of parents.
Yeah, but they were his parents.
“Daria Jones!”
“Coming!” I leapt over my pile of books, bolted down the hall and out the door.
Dad already had the engine of our Subaru thrumming as I climbed in.
“Did you tell Mr. Arashiro—?”
“Already taken care of.” Dad backed the car out of the driveway.
Mr. Arashiro was my ju-jitsu instructor. He’d been coming to our house every week since I could walk. Part of my dad’s over-protectiveness. While Dad was gone, he consoled himself knowing I’d be able to defend myself. And, I could. Against a cow. Maybe.
We left our lawn of brown grass behind and started for the Andersons’. Other people lived out here because there was land to be had, but not us. Why we lived on the only plot of land you could mow in a single day, I didn’t know.
It wasn’t long before the mountains loomed overhead and we entered Yosemite Valley. The Andersons lived in the Valley, as very few did. Their family had purchased property there before it turned itself into a National Park, affording them a luxurious home in one of the most beautiful locations on the planet. The sun always seemed to shine on them. Giving them such a residence was rubbing it in.
I’d spent many summers there while my dad was away on business. The Andersons were like family to us. Sonya Anderson had been the mom I never had, ever since I could remember. I liked her husband, Cicero, well enough. He was Dad’s best friend, and overprotective just like him. I didn’t mind that, because he was at least reasonable about it. He wasn’t the one installing thermal sensors. But the other reason I had loved going there—the main reason—was to visit their son, Alex.
Even thinking his name sent pains through my stomach.
“There’s no need to be nervous.” Dad broke the silence.
Startled, I jumped. “I’m not.”
Dad raised a brow. “Yes, you are. You’ve been twirling that braid of yours since we left. You always play with your hair when you’re nervous.”
Sure enough, I was clutching my braid like I was afraid it would fly out the window. I promptly let it go and dropped my hand in my lap.
He grinned. “You look beautiful. Thanks for coming with me.”
“Wait, so I actually had a choice?”
His smile fell as he focused back on the road. “Princess, we won’t be there long. Sonya wanted to see you, and I couldn’t say no to her this time…especially since she’s been more of a mother to you than I’ve been a father.” There was pain in his eyes, a kind of silent regret. I’d never seen him like that before.
“Dad, just because you’re gone a lot doesn’t mean you’re not a good father. Besides.” I grinned, trying to nudge the life back into him. “That’s how we get along so well—you’re never home long enough to argue with.”
He smiled, but it failed to touch his eyes.
Something was bothering him. I mean, Dad could get into these withdrawn moods, but he’d been particularly quiet lately. As I watched him, I realized his bronze hair was a mess, and the skin around his pale eyes sagged with fatigue. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, being so preoccupied with my own nerves. Dad was never good at hiding things from me because his countenance would give him away. Which was good, because if there was one thing I hated, it was being lied to.
I grabbed my iPod out of the glovebox and filled our silence with Coldplay. It was the only modern band Dad and I could agree on, because their lyrics weren’t “inappropriate” and their music didn’t “offend his ears.” He preferred classical.
We rounded that last wooded bend, and there, emerging between thick walls of giant pines, stood the Anderson home.
It didn’t matter how many times I’d seen it. Their gothic Victorian mansion still inspired awe: dark wood paneling framed stonework equipped with gables, a stone turret, and a roofline that matched the rim of the surrounding mountains. It was the kind of home I’d read about in fairytales. Visiting it always made me feel like I was part of one.
I didn’t know how the Andersons had such a beautiful home, considering Cicero and my dad worked together. In fact, I was pretty sure Dad was Cicero’s boss. Dad always said it had to do with protecting investments, whatever that meant.
My dad pulled the car around, halting before the broad stone steps that led to the rustic oak door. When I was younger, I had dreamed of that door. It had represented complete and utter happiness. Looking at it now, I suddenly couldn’t believe I’d allowed Dad to bring me here.
With a deep breath, I climbed out of the car. The air was crisp and the scents of earth and pine seeped into my soul, bringing with them the string of memories I had tried so hard to shred.
You can do this. You won’t be here long. And it’s not like he is going to be here.
Our shoes crunched on their gravel driveway. Part of me wanted to run back to the car, but I knew it was too late. I’d already let him drag me this far. We stood before the door and I stared at the gargoyle head holding an iron ring knocker in its teeth. It hung lower than I remembered, but no matter where I stood, those empty eyes followed me. I never did like those eyes. Dad glanced at me before clasping the ring, letting it clank against the wood.
Was I imagining it, or did he seem guilty about something?
Just as he released the ring, the door swung inward, replaced by a woman I knew well.
Sonya Anderson stood tall, her elegance unmatched as always. Her lustrous dark hair was pulled back loosely, dark eyes smiling as though seeing me made everything right in her world. And before I could say a word, her slender arms wrapped around me. It was an embrace only she could give—one that seemed to hug you inside, too.
When she pulled away, her fingertips lingered at my cheek. “My darling, I’ve missed you.” She searched my eyes. “Thank you. For coming.”
Sonya was the kind of person who didn’t really need to speak because her eyes communicated everything. Right now they were overflowing with love. “Sure. Thanks for having me.”
“You know you never need an invitation.” She led us into the foyer, closing the door.
The familiar crimson rug was soft under my shoes as my nose filled with the scents of spices and wood smoke. An iron chandelier hung above, the rows filled with squat, ivory candles that I had always tried to count. Alex had always shot random numbers at me, to throw me off track. But when he was busy, I’d counted them. There were exactly twenty-three.
Sonya appraised my disheveled dad with a frown. “I figured as much.”
Dad grinned. “Nice to see you, too.”
Sonya had always worried about Dad’s health. When you internalize everything, like my dad does, “everything” turns your outward appearance into a haphazard mess.
“Well, it’s a good thing Daria knows h
ow to take care of herself,” Sonya sighed. “There are some clean towels in the bathroom upstairs. Just in case.”
“Alaric!” It sounded like the entire house had spoken.
Cicero’s tall, strong build appeared beside his wife and he smacked my dad hard on the back. “You look terrible. I mean, even for you.”
Dad chuckled. “Well, one of us needed brains, so I sacrificed good looks. You’re welcome.”
Cicero shook his head. “I really only stepped out to see little Daria.” His bright eyes found me, his grin spreading. “Not so little anymore, are you?” He wrapped a thick arm around my shoulders. “The world’s newest graduate! Good to see you.”
I smiled. “You, too.” Cicero always had a way of making one forget their worries. Probably because nothing ever seemed to faze him. And that strength was contagious to everyone around him, me included.
Cicero studied me a moment, then smirked at my father. “She still doesn’t look a thing like you.”
Dad arched a brow. “You don’t think so?”
“Not in the slightest,” Cicero said. “She’d never be that beautiful if she did.”
My dad shook his head, chuckling. He’d been expecting something like that.
“Actually.” Cicero glanced at Sonya. “There is something I need to discuss with Alaric before we all visit. Do you mind?” He fastened his rich, brown eyes on me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Dad stiffen. That was strange. It wasn’t like them to be so secretive. At least, not in front of me. “Oh no. That’s fine,” I said.
Dad held Cicero’s gaze a moment before shooting me a quick glance. “Be right back.” The men disappeared down the hall.
When I looked back at Sonya I caught traces of worry on her face. But the moment she noticed me watching her, that worry quickly transformed into a smile.
“It has been so long.”
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