Shine: The Knowing Ones (10 page)

Sam balked. “You just listed some of the most common human emotions.”

“Where we sit now, yes.”

Sam could only stare.
What did that mean?

He leaned forward. “Think about those emotions,” he said. “Where do you think those stem from?”

Sam gazed down at the table. Then she looked up at him. “Insecurity.”

“Yeah,” he said. “There is no reason for that emotion at all. It’s pointless and destructive. I know society makes that a hard one to get past, but everyone is a gift. Everyone brings something to the table and everyone’s contribution is valuable, even if it may seem insignificant or destructive, because it creates opportunities for growth. Those emotions make us view learning opportunities as misfortune. They aren’t. They only have power until we learn to view them properly.”

“And you have?” she asked.

Trin paused. “Yeah.”

“How?” she asked.

“It all comes down to understanding truth. Inferiority is a lie. No one is better than anyone else. That is a true statement and if you understand that,” he sat back, “It goes away.”

Sam’s head was spinning. “So, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

Sam laughed. “How do you cloak your energy from me?” she said. “You haven’t told me how to do it. I’m sick of being all exposed while you get to choose.”

He grinned. “You’re going to have to stop feeling inferior to me.”

Sam dropped her head back in exasperation.

“I’m serious,” he laughed. “You don’t even realize you’re doing it. Who I am doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what any of these people think. Focus on you. What you believe, what you feel, then embrace it. Everything else falls into place after that.”

He sat back in his chair, his nearly fluorescent eyes dancing with mirth. Then his countenance softened. “You need to see yourself as I do.”

Sam tilted her head. “And what do you see?”

Trin hesitated a moment, as if considering something. A moment later smoldering blue light filled his irises as it had earlier and Sam found herself unable to look away, not that she wanted to. His engaging eyes shone, wrapping her tighter in an invisible prison, pulling her in. The cloaking element in his aura melted away, exposing his well hidden disposition.

Sam gasped as indescribable, almost uncontainable respect and humility poured into her. She felt it within her mind, she felt it within her soul, she felt it everywhere. The sensation was so intense it
bordered on worship. She fought him, not understanding what he was doing, but this only tightened his hold.

Trust me.

His velvet command filled her mind and she succumbed. She had no choice but to let go. Information reached out, unfolding into every part of her. Trin’s heavenly eyes gleamed as his perception of her had its way—honor, respect, power and humility—nearly more than she could fathom. It was all consuming, overwhelming,
too much.

He took her hand and the exchange stopped. With a sharp intake of air her gaze dropped in awe to the strong, beautiful hand holding hers. She lifted her eyes back to his.

“That is just a glimpse,” he said.

Her mind spun in a shocking euphoria. She would have been terrified if it hadn’t felt so right.

At that moment his food arrived. The server balanced a large tray full of plates and looked down to determine what went where. Sam cleared her jolted mind, looked up, and pointed to Trin.

“It’s all his,” she said.

“It’s
not
all mine,” he argued. “That glass of water is
hers
.” He shook his head in feigned disgust.

Sam smiled, glowering up at him.

He looked down at his plate, picking up his fork. “Keep trying to make me look bad,” he mumbled.

Sam burst out laughing.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M
ikhail walked the grand arched hallway toward the court. It had been years since the council had convened. Without an Oracle there was little to discuss. He lifted his eyes to the curved ceiling. The beautifully crafted, hand carved details seemed so high above him, so out of reach. The stained glass windows stretching the length of the giant stone walls also seemed foreign. A deafening hollow prevailed; a sacred temple once filled with lush energy now dead, silenced, a stark reminder of historic tragedy, still un-avenged. But the elusive new Oracle had been found, and Ashbel had resurfaced. So Mikhail had made the journey from the city to the village—a trek usually made only on weekends. Despite the ugliness haunting the temple halls Mikhail carried with him new hope. Perhaps the nightmare was finally nearing an end.

He opened the door to the court hall, housing six other Elders and his past Keeper. Dressed in ceremonial robes, the council members stood at his arrival. Anvil stood centered in front of the table, facing him as he approached. Mikhail’s robes billowed as he bowed in reverence. “Добро пожаловать, Anvil.”

Anvil nodded. “Здравствуйте, Mikhail.”

Mikhail moved behind the stone arc, taking his seat in the center. Opening the council floor he asked, “What has he decided, Anvil?”

“Trinton feels compelled to keep Sam uninformed for now. He would like the opportunity to defeat Ashbel without involving Samantha.”

Every member of the council stared at Anvil.

“Impossible,” Aleksei said.

Anvil blinked. “Impossible?”

“Superior protection comes with the union of two.”

“Superior protection comes from
her Keeper.”

Mikhail held up a hand. “What are his plans, Anvil?”

Anvil turned to Mikhail. “You have sent Vitaly with a recon party to locate Ashbel. Once he is found, Trinton desires to go after him with his men, alone.”

The Elders erupted in a cacophony of opinions and concerns at this very bold and unexpected statement.

“Please,” Mikhail said.

The room fell silent.

“Anvil,” he said, “there is no guarantee Trin can conquer Ashbel without Samantha’s help. We need that guarantee. We could lose them both without it. But even more—we need our Oracle. Ashbel has returned. We are in danger. We have initiated preparations for the protective rites. We must bring Samantha and Trinton home and commence with the ceremony. She must be trained, protected, and given her power. That is the only order that guarantees their safety—and ours.”

Anvil came forward. “He feels compelled to wait. A Keeper’s instincts must be adhered to.”

“As long as they are proper,” Aleksei said. “I believe his vision may be clouded.”

Anvil clasped his hands. “Trinton’s circumstances differ greatly from those before him. Before Ashbel turned against us we were in no immediate danger. Trinton had to
find
his charge, inform her of her birthright, get her to
believe him,
teach her about her own gifts, and restore order to the tribe, and that was
before
discovering Ashbel had somehow survived a century,” he said. “Now he must find a way to accomplish the same list of difficult tasks while keeping his charge safe from an enemy he cannot see and whose capabilities he does not know.”

Anvil stood quiet for a moment. “I won’t pretend his love for Samantha isn’t the motivation for this decision,” he said. “But that is what motivates a Keeper. It is why he lives -
for her.
I am not saying it will work. I am not even saying I agree with his decision. But
it is
his decision and he feels strongly compelled to wait. He is the Keeper. Given the situation and its many deviations from what is normal, I believe he deserves a little latitude.”

Mila turned to Mikhail. “Do you worry about his abundance of power?”

Mikhail glanced at Anvil.

“Trinton doesn’t have it in him to turn,” Anvil replied. “He is firmly committed to his calling. He
has
been ever since he was a small child.”

Mikhail pondered that for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “I believe that.” Mikhail turned to the other Elders. “It
is
possible Trinton is making a mistake,” he said. “But I don’t believe he will fail. The truth is he
is
our front line. We needed an extraordinary Keeper and the Divinity sent us Trinton. If they trusted him enough to send him to face these near impossible circumstances then we must trust him too.”

The other council members contemplated what was said and then finally conceded. Mikhail turned to Anvil.

“Stay close to him, Anvil,” he said. “He needs you now more than ever.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“W
hich problem are you on?”

“This one,” she said, pointing to a complex graph.

Sam and Trin had finished up at the café and made their way over to the campus library. They selected an isolated table in the corner of the upper level and began tackling Sam’s Calculus nightmare.

“Okay,” he said. He pushed the book to her. “Read it to me.”

Sam took the book, reluctant to begin. “The velocity for an object in meters per second is v(t) = 36 – t
²
, where t is between zero and six seconds. Find the total distance traveled.”

Trin pointed to the v(t) function, looking at Sam. “This is the velocity function,” he said. “To find the total distance traveled from zero to six seconds, you have to use the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus. But remember, when finding the total distance you have to integrate the absolute value of the velocity function from zero to six seconds.”

Sam’s brain had switched off after the first sentence. “Can I just use my calculator?”

Trin hesitated. “You really should do the calculations by hand so you can understand the process, but go ahead for this one.”

She searched her bag, retrieving her calculator. “Okay,” she said. “What do I do?”

Trin leaned in, taking it from her, his heavenly scent rendering her useless. “First, you need to type the absolute value of the velocity function into y=.”

Sam watched his masculine hand as he pointed out the different functions on her calculator, his close proximity torturing her as she strained to comprehend his instruction.

“Then you press graph,” he continued. “From there, you type 2
^nd
trace and arrow down to step seven, which is the integration button. The calculator will prompt you for the upper and lower bounds to help you evaluate the problem.” He handed her the calculator. “Got it?”

She took it from him. “Sure,” she lied. She had no idea what he had just said. She began the calculation the way he had instructed her to, struggling against his intensely provocative
everything.

Halfway through her calculation she glanced up at him. He waited, muscled arms folded across his chest. She drew in a breath, looking back to the calculator. She finished the process and stared at the screen, still hesitant, even though the calculator had done all the work for her.

Trin tilted his head. “Did you get one hundred forty-four meters?”

Sam looked up at him, a disgusted glare on her face. “Did you just do that in your
head?”

Trin smiled, reaching for her notepad and pencil. “This is not hard, Sam.”

“For whom?”

“For either one of us. Look.”

He began writing out the process, when his focus shifted to the other side of the room. Sam looked up, confused, and followed his gaze. On the opposite end of the library a young couple stood up to leave. Black energy saturated the young man, spilling out everywhere around him. The same energy forced its way into the young woman’s submissive and insecure element. Sam watched as the young woman collected her things in a rush, the man jerking his head impatiently toward the door. He started for the stairs without her.

Sam glanced back at Trin and blinked. His aura had changed from regal blue to black. She stared. The guy was a jerk, and the girl could do without him for sure, but the exchange between the young man and woman seemed a personal affront to Trin, as if he were encountering an old enemy. A shock of gleaming white energy rippled down Trin’s body and disappeared. Sam gaped.

Trin stared, vigilant, even after they had gone.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

He continued staring. “I’m fine.”

Sam waited, unsure what to say. Trin inhaled with renewed focus, the intensity in his aura subsiding. “Okay,” he said. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

He began explaining the process, which fell on deaf ears. Even with a lifetime of “odd”, Sam had never witnessed anything like this.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T
hey followed the concrete path out of the library. Colored leaves swirling here and there in the breeze as they made their way to the parking lot. The setting sun cast a fiery glow to a carpet of gold, orange, and red that crunched beneath their feet.

Sam stared ahead. “Do you ever have visions?”

Trin glanced down. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she began, “like something in real life happens when you’re awake...but it’s...something that really should only happen in a dream?”

Trin studied her. “Describe it to me.”

She stopped walking. “Don’t think I’m nuts, okay?”

He stopped, cracking a smile.

Sam exhaled. “Okay...so a few nights ago...something pretty bad happened.” She looked to the sidewalk. “I was attacked after rehearsal at the dance building. I’m okay, he didn’t do anything, but...I don’t think he was really physically there,” she said. She looked up at Trin who remained silent. “I mean, I felt him,” she said. “But then...something happened...and he disappeared.”

Trin stared, squinting, unreadable. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“Well, I mean he tried at first, I guess. He grabbed my throat and squeezed pretty hard...”

Something shifted in Trin’s eyes as he listened, but he remained quiet, composed.

Sam glanced away. “He was...chanting...I think.” She shook her head. “That’s what it sounded like anyway.”

Trin lowered his head. “What was he saying?”

Sam shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “It wasn’t English. Then he disappeared.”

Trin looked to the ground a moment. “Do you think you could repeat what he was saying?”