by G. P. Ching
All of this gave the people of Paris more than enough to gossip about as Jacob slid into the Laudners’ usual pew. He stared at the crucifix that hung at the front of the church. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the last church he’d been in and the last pew he’d sat in, the one in Nod. He was never so happy to be in a real church as that moment, a real church with holy water that hummed to him from every corner, waiting to be a weapon if evil came his way. The ceremony itself didn’t make much sense to him. It wasn’t his way of believing. But that was okay. Because, as he looked at the crucifix, at his mom smiling next to him, and at his own hands, he had something better than confidence. He had hope.
* * * * *
The Christmas tree in the corner of the Laudners’ living room was the biggest Fraser fir Jacob or his mom had ever seen. They’d helped to decorate it with red and gold glass balls of various sizes. Clear glass icicles dangled from the branches behind silver snowflake garland. Early Christmas morning, Uncle John had finished the tree by laying fresh red poinsettia flowers on the branches.
Jacob’s favorite part was the angel on the top, which looked nothing at all like Gideon. When there was no one else in the room, he and his mom laughed about how the flowing blonde locks looked more like a Watcher than an angel. He understood now that the reason Dr. Silva had looked so much like Auriel was that they’d borrowed the same image, from the Swedish woman, in slightly different ways. He wondered what the real Dr. Silva would look like, if she ever became human.
“This one is from all of us,” he said to his mom, handing her a square package. The Laudners had already opened their gifts and John and Carolyn were looking on, smiling. Katrina was home from school but still pouting about having to share a room with Jacob’s mom.
Lillian peeled back the red and gold paper and pulled the top off the box. Under the tissue was a framed picture of her and Jacob, posing in the front bay window.
“I thought it was about time we added you to our wall,” Uncle John said.
“Thank you, John. It’s beautiful.” She stood up and gave him and Aunt Carolyn a quick hug. Her eyes were misty and Jacob knew it wasn’t just because she liked the picture. It was what it represented. Lillian Lau had finally been accepted by the Laudner family.
Jacob handed her a second gift. “From me,” he said.
Underneath the gold paper was a scrapbook. The first several pages were already filled with pictures of Jacob, Malini, and the Laudners with a few of her mixed in.
“So that you can start a new history,” he said, and then leaned over to whisper in her ear. “There’s a knife in the binding.”
She glanced down and saw the glint of silver nestled in the spine. “It’s exactly what I wanted, Jacob. Thank you.” She hugged him hard. “Now you.”
He took the box from her hand and removed the paper in one rip. As he opened the lid, he saw a watch with five time zones.
“In case we ever travel,” his mom said, smiling, and then discreetly motioned to look under the watch. Jacob didn’t take it out but in the bottom of the box was a thin flask with a strap. It was the kind you could wear around your ankle or wrist. He knew without checking that it was full of water, he could hear the hum. With this, he would never be without it.
“Thanks, Mom. It’s perfect,” he said and then reached for the picture of the two of them. “Let’s go hang our picture.”
She was on her feet too quickly and Jacob hoped the Laudners didn’t notice her lightning-fast reflexes, but they were too busy picking through a plate of Christmas cookies. Jacob followed his mom up the stairs, only speaking when he was out of earshot.
“The flask was brilliant, Mom,” he said, hanging the picture on the hook John had made ready on the wall the night before.
“It’s important for you to protect yourself.”
They turned with a start when a sound like a firecracker came from Jacob’s room down the hall. Jacob looked back at his mom. She placed a finger over her lips and motioned for him to follow her. Silently, they crept toward the room, his mom pulling the knife from the binding of the album. Her dark eyes spoke volumes as she kicked open the door.
Malini stood in the middle of the room clutching her chest. “Jeez, Lillian, I think you stopped my heart.” She was leaning on a thick wooden staff.
“Everything okay up there?” Uncle John yelled from below.
“Yes, John,” Lillian called toward the stairs. “I just dropped my album.”
“How did you get up here?” Jacob asked Malini, looking at his locked window.
“So, you haven’t opened your gift from Dr. Silva and Gideon?” Malini asked.
“No.” But then he saw it. A long, wrapped gift leaned up against the corner of his room. He ripped the paper off and saw a wooden staff, identical to Malini’s.
“It says something in Aramaic. Can you read it to me, Jacob?” Malini asked.
“Sure,” he said, turning the staff in his hands. “It says anywhere.”
“If you read the card, it says Gideon made these from the branches of the tree. Oswald has moved on but Gideon has enchanted these. They’ll take us anywhere we need to go, at any time,” Malini said. “I was surprised she gave me one.”
“Do you think there’s one for me?” Lillian asked and excused herself to go look in her room.
“Dr. Silva says she’s going to help me figure out what I am,” Malini said.
“I have something that will help.” Jacob handed her a box from his nightstand. She unwrapped it carefully and pulled off the lid.
“The stone!” she said, putting her head through the cord and holding up the red disc between her fingers.
“It can tell the future. I think, at this point, you need it more than I do.”
“Thank you, Jacob. And something for you.” Malini handed him a tiny box from her pocket. He ripped into it and found a thick silver ring engraved with Sanskrit. He slid it onto his finger.
“Did you know this says ‘Water,’” he asked.
“Yes, I had it engraved. So, now you read Sanskrit?”
“I guess so,” he shrugged. “I love it, Malini.” He leaned forward and kissed her, their lips starting out gentle and soft and ending in something that made his heart beat faster. He pulled away when he realized the door was still open. “I imagine you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Nope. As far as my parents know, I am in my room putting away my Christmas gifts. I believe I’m officially grounded for life.”
Jacob tossed the staff back and forth between his hands. “Then I suppose this gift is even more important because I can’t be away from you for that long.”
Malini rewarded him with a smile he knew was exclusively his.
“Does it have the same side effects?” he asked her.
“No. I felt fine coming over here,” she said. “Maybe we should go next door to say thank you.”
“Great idea. I want to give Dr. Silva the gift I got for her, anyway.” He grabbed a wrapped box from his closet.
“What is it?” Malini asked.
“A pink cable-knit sweater.”
“What? Have you ever seen Dr. Silva wear anything but black?”
“No. But I thought it was time she started dressing for her future.”
“Very sweet, Jacob. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Malini kissed him again, this time on the cheek. “How do you think she stays here? I mean, if she doesn’t age, why hasn’t anyone in Paris noticed?”
“She never told me but I think I figured it out. My uncle once said that her grandmother lived in the same house. Obviously, Dr. Silva has never had a grandmother. I think she ages herself by illusion, and then comes back as her own daughter. She doesn’t come out much. It wouldn’t be hard for her to fool everyone,” he explained.
“It must have been hard for her to live her life in a lie like that, no one ever really knowing who she was,” Malini said.
“Well now she has us,” Jacob said. He held up the staff. “So, how do these
work?”
“It’s easy, you just think about where you want to go and tap them on the floor,” Malini said.
“Now?” he asked, tucking the gift under his arm and interlacing his fingers with hers.
“Yes, Jacob, I’m ready,” she replied and he believed she was, for anything. There was a deep trust in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Not ever. Not even before he had tried to force her to go through the tree. Not even on the beach. Something had changed. They were bound to each other in an almost magical way.
“Together then,” he said.
They raised their staffs and looked out the window toward the gothic Victorian, together to anywhere.
Book Club Discussion Questions
1. Do you think forgiveness came easily to the characters in The Soulkeepers? Do you think it would be easy to forgive if similar events happened to you?
2. Are the prejudices of past generations more forgivable or understandable than those of today? For example, do you find it easier to gloss over a racial slur said by a grandparent than a peer?
3. Why do you think the concepts of faith, religion, and spirituality are avoided in most young adult literature?
4. Uncle John asks the question, “Do you think a person is only as good as the worst thing they’ve ever done?” How do you feel about this question? Are there certain actions that define a person’s character permanently?
5. Mysterious biblical history plays a pivotal role in the plot of The Soulkeepers. Are there parts of the bible (or your particular holy text) that you find disturbing or paradoxical? How do you reconcile that with your faith?
6. How do people create their own prisons in their life? Do you think an individual can be his or her own harshest judge and jury?
7. Is there an evil force in this world that can push otherwise good people over the edge?
8. What do you think about the way God is depicted in The Soulkeepers?
9. How do people growing up in rural communities have a different reality than those in urban or suburban settings? Do you think this upbringing effects how they think about moral choices?
10. Do you think our culture is obsessed with our physical appearance, what we wear, and how we smell? Do you think the focus on outside beauty is an attempt to capture something else?
Weaving Destiny: The Soulkeepers series, Book 2
Copyright © G.P. Ching, 2011, 2012
Published by Carpe Luna, Ltd., PO Box 5932, Bloomington, IL 61701
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
Third Edition: November 2012
ISBN: 978-0-9852367-2-4
Cover art by Adam Bedore at Anjin Design.
www.anjindesign.com
Photograph copyright Red Glass Sphere (isolated) © Kompaniets Tara and Indian Girl © Kailash K Soni
Photos Licensed through Shutterstock images.
www.shutterstock.com
Formatting by Polgarus Studio.
www.polgarusstudio.com
v 2.0
Glossary of Terms
Healer (pr. n.) A rare type of Soulkeeper who has the power to heal people and situations. Healers can tell right from wrong even in the most confusing of circumstances.
Helper (pr. n.) A type of Soulkeeper specialized in the art of equipping Horsemen for their work.
Horseman (pr. n.) A type of Soulkeeper who acts as a warrior, battling Watchers when all other tactics have failed.
influence (v.) Act of placing a human under the spell of a Watcher. Usually, Watchers will lure their victims to drink an addictive elixir that subjects the person to the Watcher’s will.
red stone (n.)An enchanted gem given to another Soulkeeper by a Healer that allows the Soulkeeper a window into the Healer’s abilities. It is given when the Horseman or Helper needs guidance over an extended period of time away from the Healer.
Soulkeeper (pr. n.) A person with a recessive genetic abnormality that gives them power to fight Watchers. Each Soulkeeper’s gift is as unique and individual as a fingerprint but their purpose falls into three categories: Helper, Horseman, or Healer. A Soulkeeper’s power is triggered by a stressful event and is only fully realized when the person accepts their true purpose.
soulkeeper’s staff (n.) A branch of the tree that grew out of Oswald Silva’s buried corpse. Used by a Soulkeeper, the staff acts as a portal, transporting the user from one place to another. Makes a sound like a firecracker when activated. Also known as an enchanted staff.
Watcher (pr. n.) Angels who defected with Lucifer from God’s grace. Also called fallen angels or demons, these beings have the skin and eyes of a snake, and wings like a bat. They are skilled in illusion and sorcery, appearing as model-perfect human beings most of the time. They are notoriously lazy, preferring to wait until their victims are physically or emotionally weak to attack. They live below ground in a place called Nod because the sun drains their powers. They gain strength by eating human flesh obtained by abducting people and keeping them as slaves.
Chapter 1
Closer
Katrina Laudner ached to be noticed. Within the crowd of college students in the living room of Sigma Nu fraternity, she danced, careful not to spill the contents of her red plastic cup. Her denim skirt scarcely hit her upper thigh. Her cami scooped dangerously low. And the thump-thump of the music the DJ blasted from the corner pounded its way out of her body in a rhythm of invitation. No one noticed. Even half naked, she was wholly invisible.
“What are you drinking?” a velvet voice asked. He was close, close enough for her to hear over the deafening music, close enough to feel breath on her earlobe. Katrina stopped dancing and turned. A boy stood between her and the wall.
“The red juice from the back,” she answered.
He was exceptional in his stillness. The strobe light made the rhythmic mass of people to their left and right jerk with the illusion of disconnected movements. But like an inanimate object, the light had no effect on his image. Every flash was the same.
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
“Yeah. I was supposed to meet my roommate but she never showed.”
“You’re not alone anymore.” He stepped in closer. Navy blue eyes, almost purple, set off his pale skin and black hair. The overly confident smile on his lips did as much to entice her as did the hard line of the jaw it was attached to.
She took another sip from the red cup. The juice she’d scored from the man in the back was spiked with something that burned her throat on the way down. She hoped it made her nice and numb. Maybe then she could play it smooth. Guys could smell desperate a mile away.
“Do you know there’s alcohol in that?” he asked.
“Are you a cop?”
He laughed, a dark, hollow sound that caressed her ear like a lover’s kiss. “No.”
“Then I can safely say that if I didn’t know it was spiked before, I sure as hell know now. I’m pretty sure this stuff could remove nail polish.” She drank again, but couldn’t stop herself from peeking over the top of the cup. Wide shoulders, pierced eyebrow—he was rock-star, chiseled-by-the-gods gorgeous.
He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pulled her forward, bringing his lips to her ear again. “It’s just … you look underage,” he said.
“I’m old enough.” The heat from the spot where his skin touched hers was almost too much to bear. She went back to dancing a little, breaking the connection.
“Hmm. A lawbreaker, I think. What should I call such a reckless and wild one?”
“Katrina.”
“Do you have a last name or am I to assume you’re so infamous that you don’t
need one?”
She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Laudner. Katrina Laudner. What’s yours?”
“Cord.”
“Cord like what you open the drapes with?” she teased.
“No.” His expression darkened. “Cord like what you strangle someone with.”
Katrina took a small step backward. She thought about leaving altogether but then his face relaxed into a teasing smile. He was trying to be funny.
She shrugged off a foreboding weight that had settled on her chest. That was the problem with growing up in Paris, Illinois. She wasn’t used to anyone different. She was too cautious. “Do you have a last name, Cord?”
“No,” he said. The corner of his mouth tugged upward as he looked over the bump and grind on the dance floor. “Infamous.”
“Nice. I’m beginning to think it begins with a B and ends with astard.”
The smile melted from Cord’s face, replaced with an intensity she’d never seen before—well, maybe in some wild animal show where the predator was about to eat the prey.
Katrina crossed her arms over her chest as if the position could deflect the raw power he’d turned in her direction. An intoxicating scent drifted over her, cinnamon, sandalwood, a dark forest. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply through her nose. She was about to compliment him on his cologne when Cord’s touch made her eyes flip open.