Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul

by Robert W. Ross

  “You wrinkle your nose when you’re confused.”

  “I do not!”

  “You do.”

  She let out an exasperated breath and leaned back while removing her supporting hand from Kellan’s head. It smacked against the hard earth. “Ow, what did you do that for?”

  “For being an arse, Kellan Thorne. Stop telling me what I am. You hardly know me. I haven’t seen you for five years. I don’t even like you overmuch.”

  He said nothing and just stared at her quietly for several long moments, then whispered, “You want to tuck that other bit of hair behind your right ear, don’t you?”

  Instead of doing so, Shannon threw the remaining water in Kellan’s face. “You are a complete arse and I don’t know why I spent all this time pining for you.”

  Kellan smiled. “You did?”

  She glared at him. “No.”

  “You just said you did. You said you pined.” He pointed to himself. “For me.”

  Shannon leaned forward with a snarl and Kellan felt the cold tip of a dagger against his neck. “I do not pine, Kellan Thorne. It was a slip of the tongue is all.”

  Kellan raised his hands slowly and crossed them behind his head in an act of acquiesce. “I’m sorry. I was just playing with you.”

  “I am not in a playful mood.”

  “I can see that.”

  The dagger vanished and she looked somewhat mollified. “I’m sorry about the water. That was uncalled for. You just made me so angry.”

  “I do that.”

  “In Atlanta?”

  “Pretty much everywhere, but yeah, mostly there.”

  “Why did I go there?”

  “For the same reason I came here. You knew I needed you, so you came. I knew you needed me, so I came.”

  She smiled. “Your timing was pretty good. I thought we were done for. I wish you had shown me that channeling trick back before.”

  Kellan shrugged. “It’s odd that I didn’t, or won’t. Did we not touch at all when I was here last?”

  Shannon snorted. “I should say not. Did I mention that you were almost burned as a witch?”

  “You did.”

  “Well, I think it goes without saying that since Father forbade me from speaking to ya, that touching would be even more out of the question.”

  “That’s probably what did it then. You have to touch me to withdraw the power.” She stared at him nervously for a moment and he chuckled, “Go ahead, try it.” She reached for his hand. “It doesn’t have to be the hand. Any physical contact will do. Try somewhere else.”

  She arched an eyebrow and smiled mischievously, “Where do you suggest?”

  Kellan barked a laugh. “Now, that’s the Shannon I know and love.” The Sentinel saw the Soulborn try to hide her reaction to his last comment. He ground his teeth and hurried on. “Just touch my cheek.”

  She did so and he watched as her eyes burst to light. She arched her back and took in several sharp breaths, then pulled back her hand. “It’s burning again. I need to use it.”

  “Wait,” said Kellan. “You didn’t take that much. You can store much more than that and not have it burn you. Look inside for that river I told you about. Close your eyes and picture it.” She did. “Do you see it?” Shannon nodded. “Good, now tell me what it looks like.”

  “It’s like a small stream with green water.”

  “Good. Now picture all the power you are holding. The power that’s burning you. Picture all that going into the stream.” Kellan watched as her brow furrowed in concentration and then her eyes flew open in surprise.

  “It grew. The stream grew. It got broader and deeper.” She smiled. “The burning is gone.”

  Kellen grinned. “Yep. Now reach back in and take up just a little bit.” He watched as she did so, eyes taking on their preternatural glow. “Excellent, now put it back. Do that a couple times just to get the feel of it.”

  “I think I understand how it works now,” she said at last. “How long will it stay in that river?”

  Kellan frowned slightly and sat up, curling his legs beneath him, “Dunno. Forever I imagine. The river is like a reservoir. In me there is some hidden spring of power that continually fills it. I’m that spring for you, but until you use it, the power should just happily rest there.” He shivered slightly and slid closer to the small fire that crackled near him. “It’s cold.”

  She laughed. “It’s the Highlands and this is not cold, Kellan Thorne.”

  “Whatever. Where are Oren and Donal?” as the words left him, Kellan whipped his attention back to Shannon. “Oren! How is Oren?”

  Shannon moved to sit across the fire from Kellan and raised a calming hand. “He’s fine. Better than fine. He and Donal are keeping watch.” She gestured to a nearby tree line, “Just there.”

  Kellan nodded, “What happened to all the baddies?”

  She cocked her head questioningly, but said, “I used the last of your sparkles to burn them in a pit, just in case.”

  Kellan nodded again, “Smart.” She smiled and he chuckled.

  “What?”

  “Sparkles. You always call them my sparkles. I guess this was the first time you ever did that.”

  She stared at him seriously, “I thought you said you weren’t supposed to talk about the older me. You know, because of the pair of dogs.”

  Kellan squinted at her. “You keep talking about these dogs, Shannon. We don’t have any dogs in Atlanta. Although—” he paused and looked past her into the distance, then mumbled, “— maybe we should get a dog. We should get a husky. I love huskies.” Shannon reached forward and snapped her fingers in front of Kellan’s eyes.

  He stared at her and she said, “What’s a husky. Is that one of the pair of dogs?”

  “No, we don’t have a husky. I just said we don’t have a dog. We don’t have a pair of dog—” As he spoke, Kellan broke off and stared at Shannon barely able to contain his laughter. “Shannon, what exactly did I tell you about the pair of dogs?”

  “Well, you said, if I learned too much about the future, it might somehow change that future in a bad way. You said it could create a pair of dogs. I assumed they were very bad dogs.” She glared at him. “Why are you doing that?”

  Kellan shook his head violently. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You are so. You are laughing at me.” He shook his head again, mouth drawn to a line. “Yes, you are. Inside you are. I can see it.”

  Kellan took in air through his nose and breathed out through his mouth. “Ok, it’s not a pair of dogs. There are no dogs, Shannon. If you know too much about the future, it can create,” he paused and enunciated, “a paradox. A paradox is when that happens.”

  “Paradox,” she said sounding out the word. “So there are no dogs.”

  Kellan shook his head. “Sadly, no dogs.”

  “Well, that at least makes more sense. I really couldn’t figure out how my knowing the future would create two dogs.”

  Kellan laughed and she stared at him for the briefest of moments before her face broke into a smile and the laugher became a chorus.

  “Shan, what’s that you’re doing?” asked Donal as he approached with Oren in tow. The Soulborn sat cross legged with her right palm out. Her eyes glowed a brilliant green, as several razor sharp icicle daggers rotated above her hand. She glanced up and they instantly fell to clink against each other on their way to the ground.

  “I was training, Donal. I am the Sentinel’s Soulborn after all. Did you expect me to just darn socks while we waited for you two to finish scouting about.”

  Oren started to speak, “No, Shannon, no. I’m sure we were just—”

  Donal reached over and tapped his friend on the chest. “Don’t even bother, Oren. She’s just being a wench. Leave her be.” Shannon smirked at her brother and poured a bit of water into her hand.

  Kellan had been rummaging around in one of the packs looking for something to eat, but now walked over and opened his arms in greeting.
“Oren, how are you feeling. You look well.”

  Oren smiled and stepped into the embrace, feeling Kellan’s warm slaps against his back. He looked down at Kellan and said, “Yes, thanks to you, again. That’s five lives I owe you now.”

  “Five,” began Kellan with a low chuckle, “how did we get to five? Oren, have I told you I hate math? They said there would be no math.”

  Oren held up a clenched fist, then uncurled each finger as he spoke, “Mother, Shaylee, Nissa, me, and me again. Five.”

  Kellan stared at the splayed out hand and nodded but said, “Well, forget it, I don’t keep score. Someday you’ll do me a solid. No worries at all. Now, let me take a look at that arm.”

  Oren walked over and slid up the sleeve of his tunic. The wound had completely closed and there was no trace of the dark blue lines. Kellan gently traced his finger along the length of a pink scar that remained. “Does that hurt at all?” he asked. Oren shook his head. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t completely heal, but it should make for a great conversation piece.”

  “A what?” asked Oren as he replaced the sleeve.

  “A conversation piece. Something over which to start a conversation. You know, like with some beautiful tavern girl.” Kellan affected a female voice. “Oh my Oren, wherever did you get that dangerous scar?” Donal laughed and gave his friend a soft punch on the arm. Kellan and Oren shared a look then started laughing as well.

  From behind them came the soft pattering of icicles hitting the ground and Shannon muttered, “All men are boys and all boys are idiots.”

  Kellan glanced over and shrugged. “Hey, let me see that scar again. It reminded me of something.” A moment later he motioned Donal over. “Look at that. See there is a triangle in the center and three curling whips stretching out from each of the angles almost like a tentacle. What do you think?”

  Donal squinted. “I’ve never seen it on any stones before but I think you’re right, it does have the look of a druidic glyph.”

  Kellan frowned as Oren slid down his sleeve again. “I feel like I’ve seen that symbol before, but can’t remember where.”

  “You told me you remembered everything,” came Shannon’s voice, tinged with accusation.

  Kellan sighed. “When did I say that?”

  “Five years ago, in Glenn Ferry. I guess that was a bit of a tall tale”

  Kellan rounded on her. “No, it was not. I do remember everything.” She arched an eyebrow. “Well, I do—usually. Sometimes healing messes it up for a while, but it always comes back. Anyway, it’s just a scar. Doesn’t matter. Had me curious is all.”

  Kellan clapped his hands together. “Speaking of Glenn Ferry, is that where you guys are headed? I’d be happy to see you three safely home.” The young Sentinel flinched as an ice dagger streaked toward him, only to puff into steam just before striking him in the forehead.

  Shannon grinned at him. “I am getting quite good at that. And I suspect you are just wanting a good meal, arentcha?”

  Kellan wiped the mist from his face and gave her a long suffering look, “Well, I am a bit hungry.”

  She huffed, “Well, we only have the three horses and we certainly aren’t traveling by night. So, it’s either dried meat and apples or we go find a couple of rabbits.

  “Or,” began Kellan as he gave Shannon a knowing smile, “we just take a short cut and get home in time for a late supper.” He whipped out his hand and a glowing oval cut the air.

  “Holy Mother of God,” said Donal.

  “Is that one of those portals?” asked Oren.

  “Insufferable man,” grumbled Shannon. “Very well, let’s go home.”

  The portal winked out and Kellan rubbed his hand against the large boulder. “I’ve missed you, rock,” he said with a smile. “Shannon, do you still meditate on your rock?”

  “Hmm, oh, not often in recent days.” She looked wistful. “I do miss it though. It reminds me of Micah and I still miss him too.” Kellan nodded, crooked his arm, and offered it to her.

  “Milady, may I escort you home.”

  She laughed and encircled her arm in his. “Why thank you kindly, good sir. That would be very nice.” She tossed her hair and glanced back to Oren and Donal, then added. “My man servants will take up the rear and see we are not beset by ghouls, kobolds, or wraiths.”

  They reached the top of the hill and Kellan stopped to take in the repaired cottage. “I do excellent work,” he said, releasing Shannon and placing hands on hips.

  Oren and Donal both bumped him from behind and went past toward the cottage door. Donal glanced back over his shoulder, “You had help.”

  Kellan sniffed and looked over at Shannon. “Does Donal live here with you?”

  “No, just Oren and me. Donal and Liam still live with papa.”

  Kellan coughed. “What? Oren. You live here with Oren?”

  “Well, I am twenty-five, Kellan Thorne. Did you expect me to become an old crone waiting for the mighty Sentinel to portal his way back to Scotland and whisk me away. It’s been five years, Kellan. Five.” She sidled up close to him and raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “A woman has needs, donchaknow.” She spun, keeping her back to the cottage door. Her eyes focused on Kellan as she slowly stepped backwards.

  “You’re lying,” he said as he closed the gap between them.

  “Am I now,” she replied “Are you sure about that, Kellan. Do you know me that well.”

  She’d stopped at the stone stoop leading up to the cottage and Kellan stood close with only a hair’s breath between them. “Yes, I do know you that well.”

  Shannon smiled up at him innocently. “Hmm, don’t you think you left something out?” Kellan narrowed his eyes with suspicion as she repeated his words, and tried to affect his accent, “Yes, I do know you that well, my love!” She laughed and made to turn toward the cottage but Kellan slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her against him hard enough for her to expel breath.

  He stared directly into her wide autumn wheat eyes and could feel the slightest tremor through the fingers he had pressed to her back. “I do know you that well, my love,” he whispered and pressed his lips to hers. She melted into the kiss and he felt her hand slide up the back of his head, fingers curling in his hair. He pressed into her and she fell back against the cottage door. Shannon pulled him closer, and their kiss was both new and familiar at the same time. It gained urgency when suddenly the door opened striking Shannon’s back and breaking their stolen moment.

  She turned quickly, fiery tresses flashing and growled, “Donal, what are you doing!”

  The young man looked panicked and like he’d rather be anywhere than where he was. “Shan! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were. I mean, I heard a knock and thought the door was stuck. I’m sorry,” he said again and looked to Kellan for help. The Sentinel simply shrugged to let Donal know he was on his own.

  “Well,” began Shannon, “you are not forgiven, little brother and I’m going to repay you someday in kind, you can count on that.”

  Kellan leaned in, “C’mon Shannon, cut him some slack. It’s not like we’ve never done that before.”

  She whirled on him, her face a thunderhead. “Well, you stupid man, you may have done that with me, but I’ve never done it with you.” She gave Kellan a last glare, turned, and brushed past Donal to enter the cottage.

  Shit thought Kellan, that was a rookie mistake and the Doctor Who episode, “Let’s Kill Hitler,” started running through his mind. Well, at least Shannon didn’t have poison lipstick and, hey, my magic brain is working again so that’s a plus. The young Sentinel gave Donal a friendly slap on the shoulder, smiled, and brushed past him and into the cottage.

  Oren stirred the massive kettle as it hung over the fireplace coals and bubbled contentedly. Shannon busied herself slicing large pieces of a delicious looking dark bread from an even larger loaf. She looked at Kellan. “Well, make yourself useful and pour us some tea. The kettle is already hot and you can find the tea�
�”

  “I know where it is Shannon,” he said with a half smile. He reached into a cabinet and pulled out the small aromatic box filled with tea. She watched him.

  “And how exactly did you know that, Kellan Thorne?”

  The Sentinel glanced up as he deftly tied a small gauze bundle together and dropped it in the kettle. “You and I visited here about a year ago.” She stared at him. “Oh, we made sure you were out before we came in. It wouldn’t do for you to run into, well, you, while we were here.”

  “Why in hell were you and that woman in my house?”

  “Shannon, you are that woman and I can’t tell you. Because,” he smiled, “because of the pair of dogs.”

  “Shut up”

  “I’m missing something,” said Donal

  Kellan waved it off. “Not important, dude, just keep on with whatever it is that you are writing there.”

  “It’s my journal.”

  “Ok, keep on with that journal whilst my sidekick here serves us up some stew.”

  Shannon paused on her way to the pot and looked over to Kellan. “And what exactly is a—sidekick.”

  Kellan opened his mouth to answer then closed it again, as past conversations born of multiple timelines filled his head.

  Shannon set down the plates. “Whats the matter? Cat caught your tongue. What is a sidekick, Kellan Thorne?”

  Kellan swallowed and, with a mixture of both excitement and dread, he explained the term in as much detail as possible.

  The stone plate shattered against Kellan’s hastily erected shield while both Donal and Oren pressed their backs against whatever wall they happened to be nearest. They wanted no part of this.

  “I don’t know what kind of woman, I become in your Atlanta, Kellan Thorne, but Glenn Ferry’s Shannon McLeod is no man’s sidekick!”

  He raised his hands in what he hoped was a placating gesture but only served as a means to easily catch the cup she’d thrown at his head.

  “Well, it’s late and we best be going,” said Donal. “I wanted to check on papa and this seems like a good time to do so. Oren, you wanted to see him too did you not.”

  “Aye, I did,” said Oren emphatically as he hastily ladled as much stew as he could manage into his bowl before racing Donal for the door.