With his help, they were able to wrest the now misshapen vessel free.
Keeping the medal inside, they drained the water and Jeni blotted the cauldron dry with a wad of paper towel before they carried it into the main cavern. The korrigan’s body had disintegrated. Tyler approached the pile of debris and, using his feet, scattered the remains in every direction. Then Ice removed his necklace from the cauldron.
Back at the car, Ice, Jeni and Tyler regarded the dented and twisted piece of metal.
“What do we do with it now?” Jeni asked.
“The only thing we can do, throw it into the fires of Mount Doom,” Ice said, catching Jeni’s eye and grinning.
“You want to destroy it?” Tyler asked. “Say no more.” He set the cauldron upside down behind one of his tires, shoved in down into the gravel, and then climbed into the car. The engine roared to life and the vehicle rolled backward, smashing the bowl and sending a few hunks flying as the brittle metal cracked.
Tyler got out to inspect his handiwork as Jeni and Ice picked up the pieces and put them into the back of the car.
Jeni looked at Ice. “Should we split it up so it can never be whole again?”
“That’s a good idea,” Ice said. “And it can’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Without commenting, Tyler closed the hatch.
As she slid into the back seat, Jeni noticed Tyler pause before getting into the car. Through the side window she saw him stuff a small piece of the cauldron into his back pocket.
Perhaps part of him did believe that forces beyond explanation had been at work here.
Whatever reason Tyler had for keeping a piece of the cauldron, the bottom line suited Jeni just fine.
Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan.
The farther the pieces were scattered, the better chance that the cauldron would never be whole again.
Jeni sat cross-legged on her bed contemplating two teapots on her computer screen. She now knew the story behind the teapots she’d seen in Max’s living room. His account, “Teapots Happen,” explained a lot about the open-mindedness of the urban explorer she’d met just two weeks ago. For some reason, reading his story made Jeni feel a little less anxious about what her future may bring.
Pushing the laptop aside, she padded into their home office and located the one box of her grandpa’s things that had come back from the river cruise. Only a few items had gone unclaimed and, unsurprisingly, the folder of newspaper clippings was among them.
Plopping back onto her bed, Jeni opened the folder. The mood from Max’s exposition remained and, with her mind receptive to the ideas of intuition and synchronicity, she paged through the articles. Floods, boating accidents and swimming mishaps, all of the articles had a common theme: death. Until she saw: LOCAL HERO SAVES MAN FROM DROWNING.
The report stated that a man had fallen from an overcrowded speed boat. A nearby fisherman witnessed the accident, already scrutinizing the carelessly operated vessel. He’d reached the floundering man before his companions even noticed he was missing. Observing the obviously drunk occupants of the speed boat as they claimed their friend, the fisherman reported the incident and the operator was arrested later.
Jeni tapped a finger on her cheek as she flipped through more pages, reading the headlines and scanning the articles. Occasionally, the name of a deceased person was underlined or circled. She wondered if these were people her grandfather knew.
Due to the grim subject matter, most of the articles were copy only, so the photo accompanying the title: SWIM TEAM PAYS OFF, drew her attention. Ten boys in two rows posed poolside, half sitting at the edge of the pool and half standing behind. Reading the caption, her mouth dropped open, eyes darting to the seated boys, second face on the left. According to the caption, this boy was Christophe Vrillier, her grandfather. The grainy quality obscured his features, but she did recognize his teenage face from other old photos she’d seen. Her focus shifted to the article which recounted how Christophe had rescued two younger boys who’d been swimming in the Mississippi River. They’d strayed too far from shore and were caught in the deadly current. Her grandpa had been a strong enough swimmer to brave the river’s powerful flow and pull the boys to safety.
The information shed a different light on the possible meaning of the collection of news clippings. Thoughts straying from the black type as she continued to page through the pile, she almost missed the underlined name in a story about a flash flood. The victim’s name was familiar. Recently familiar. Thumbing backward, Jeni stared down at the article about the fisherman who’d saved the man from the speed boat. That same fisherman had died in a flood six years later.
Jeni narrowed her eyes, remembering Max’s definition of synchronicity—the belief that some coincidences are not mere coincidences. That some coincidences are meaningful.
Had her grandfather believed in synchronicity? Is that what this collection of river related articles was about?
Was any of it tied to her experiences?
The korrigan’s claims along with Princess Itasca’s words added up to a personal vendetta.
Perhaps her grandfather had left behind a legacy.
Jeni shook her head. She couldn’t imagine her reasonable, logic-minded grandpa believing that his fate was somehow tied to that rescue so long ago.
Yet he had both talked about and left explicit instructions that his ashes be spread in the Mississippi Headwaters. His family assumed the request related to Christophe’s passion for travel.
Jeni couldn’t help but wonder if there’d been a different purpose.
After the events at Lake Itasca, she’d convinced herself that she was safe as long as the underwater monster remained imprisoned. She’d learned the hard way that that wasn’t true. Whether tied to her grandpa or not, the fact remained that she was the target of an evil entity set on revenge.
And she was equipped to fight back.
Raising her gaze to the bookshelf at the end of her bed, Jeni’s pulse surged at the memory of the disturbing nightmares. Something inside of her always responded to the seductive gestures of the freakish figures. She would begin to give herself over, aching to join the dance, but then she’d be struck by the heart-pounding, stomach-sinking feeling of falling and wake up in a sweat.
Jeni narrowed her eyes, thinking about that feeling.
“Try to sense when something magical is happening…” Dale’s words.
Maybe that heart-pounding, stomach-sinking feeling wasn’t something to fear after all.
She leaned forward until the genealogy folder came into view, squashed under the stack of Teen Vogue magazines. Her movement caused the computer screen to blaze to life, showing the teapot picture. Drawing in a breath, Jeni steeled her resolve, then rose and wrenched the folder from the shelf.
A Note From the Author
Hello Reader!
You might be interested to know that Max Action is a real person. I happened across the Action Squad website while researching caves in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and was fascinated by this treasure trove of inspiration. I highly recommend you check it out: www.actionsquad.org. You can also read “Teapots Happen” at www.teapotshappen.com/about.
If you have a minute, would you please leave a review for Veiled Existence on Amazon.com? Reviews do more than help customers make a good choice, they also increase the likelihood that Amazon will suggest the book to other readers. I would greatly appreciate it!
Happy Reading,
Barb
PS. If you’re hooked on the Legacy in Legend Series and want to know the status of the next book, join my reader group and I’ll keep you up to date. My reader group members also get exclusive access to all of the free content on my website, including a Legacy in Legend novel, novelette and short stories. Join at www.barbarapietron.com
Acknowledgements
I could not de
vote the time I spend on my writing career if not for the support of my husband and I am grateful for that every single day. He also reads my galleys to catch any mistakes that might have slipped through the many rounds of edits. I consider the project a success when he comments that he became drawn into the story and forgot that I wrote the book!
As always, my daughter, Nikki Pietron, deserves immense gratitude for brainstorming, reading my flawed first drafts, and providing candid and beneficial feedback. I’m also grateful for my initial manuscript readers, Judy Skemp and Thomas Roggenbuck, and my galley readers, Cass Pietron, Shari Fesko, and Natalie Molnar for helping ensure that I deliver a quality reading experience.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Gabriel Sehr for chronicling his urban adventures online. His pictures and vivid descriptions were an invaluable resource.
I appreciate the hard work of the crew at Scribe Publishing—Jennifer Baum, Mel Corrigan and Inanna Arthen—for making this book possible and believing in me. I’d also like to thank Maria Petrenko for the fantastic cover art.
Thanks to everyone on Team Pietron for your time and your indispensable support. This means more to me than you could ever know.
Last but certainly not least, I want to thank you, the reader, for choosing to join Jeni and Ice on this adventure. I hope you’ll be along for the next one!
About the Author
Barbara Pietron has written two other books in the Legacy in Legend Series: a prequel, Heart of Ice and the first book, Thunderstone, which was awarded 2013 Book of the Year Finalist by Foreword Reviews. Barbara is also the author of the stand-alone novel Soulshifter.
When she’s not writing, Barbara works in a library where she’s tortured by all the books she has yet to read. She’s a cult fan of the movies Labyrinth and Nightmare Before Christmas and a fan of all things Tim Burton. Barbara lives in Royal Oak, Michigan with her husband, daughter and a cat that often acts like a dog.
Facebook: facebook.com/barbara.pietron.19
Instagram: instagram.com/barbarapietron_author
Goodreads: goodreads.com/BarbP
Photo Credit: Cassie Pietron
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