Shine: The Knowing Ones (33 page)

I’m giving all I have!

Try harder.

She allowed every ounce of pain, fear, and frustration to fuel her task, her very heart reaching out to find him. The shift intensified, molecules reorganizing, preparing to claim incoming information. A rushing sound, a flash, and a solid, strong body on top of her.

Tears of relief filled her eyes, streaming from the corners as his heavenly scent engulfed her, not missing a single cell. Trin first pushed himself off, crushing her tiny frame, then pulled her back to him, molding her in a full body embrace, eyes moist as he buried his face in her neck. For a moment he stayed, holding her, breathing her in, not caring where they were, not caring what danger might be lurking. In that moment nothing else mattered. Nothing.

His senses prickled. He lifted his face from her neck, reading the occupied air. “Sam,” he whispered. “Who’s here with you?”

No response.

“Samantha,”

Though screaming a response, he wasn’t hearing her. Why?

Your strength is gone. He can hear neither you nor me. Take from him. You are the only way out.

Too weak to respond, Sam obeyed.
Breathe. Envision his energy coming into you. It is there for you to use.

A pulling sensation filled Trin’s center, Sam’s essence tingling in his abdomen. Quieting his angst he opened up, muscles slack, allowing her to draw from him. Her breathing slowed, energy passing from him to her, building, surging.

You have enough. Go. Now.

“Trin...”

His head jerked in the dark toward her voice. “Sam?”

She could muster no more than that. Running a hand through her hair he pulled her into his chest in a warm protective hold. “Let me in.”

Opening her mind to him, he scanned her thoughts, desperate for answers she could not verbalize.

To the back of the castle.
He commanded.
There is a cottage in the back.

A lurch, a suctioning, and a blinding conduit pulled them in.

Night imprisoned the massive cliffs, interrupted by sweeping intermittent patches of brilliant moonlight. Ashbel’s massive frame loomed in the shadows looking out over the water. The time was almost at hand. Only a few more hours stood between him and unending power—a waiting game. Everything else had been done. The Oracle and the kindjal, safely hidden away and bound, waiting for the midnight hour when the solstice would begin and the waiting would end.

A chilled wind blew through the night sky. He inhaled, savoring the vibrant elements, adding to the power he had taken. Each experience a vivid sensation and soon he would be unstoppable.

On the tail of that thought a subtle change altered the wind, information carried through the fabric of the air. Turning his head to the
side, he lowered his gaze to the frozen ground. The information wafted past him in wisps and fragments. Something had changed.

Turning away from the sea of water his gaze swept the outstretch of land in the direction of his captive. A bit of disquiet as he wondered if it were possible.

Never. There was no way.

But his confidence faded as the disturbance remained. He turned, making his way back. He had to be sure.

The rushing light released Sam and Trin into a bank of drifted snow just outside the castle wall.

“блядь!”
Trin threw a palm into the snow, pushing himself up working his way out of Mikhail’s coat. He threw it over Sam, scooping her into his arms—her costume so thin, her skin ice cold. Holding her close to his body he produced as much heat as he could. She hadn’t made the cottage, but it was in sight.

He pushed through the snow covered grounds, his powerful body tackling the wind and cold. But as the woods drew nearer the snow became deeper, the temperature dropping by the minute.

Blue power lit his irises. Lowering his gaze, the snow at his feet fell in on itself, sinking, liquefying into a single path, and carving its way through the blanket of deep white as the runoff streamed down the hill toward their destination. Clutching Sam’s body, Trin made it to the bottom of the hill, the icy wind stinging his face and neck. He maneuvered the wooded area, passing through the vast pines to the back of the structure, quickening his pace. Moving along the side of the cottage, he rounded the corner to the front entrance and froze—unable to move, unable to breathe.

Standing at the entry of the cottage, looking him dead in the eyes was his dearest friend, his Veduny brother, Anvil.

He stood, strong, vibrant, life coursing through him as Trin had never before seen. Beautiful, powerful, his emerald eyes gleamed, contrasting the darkened night and the moonlit snow. He worked furiously, deciphering, decoding, shredding through Trin’s energy, trying desperately to make sense of him.

“Anvil...”
Trin whispered.

Anvil’s searching eyes narrowed in awe. “Вы знаете меня...”
You know me...

Trin nodded once.

Anvil’s gaze fell to the bundled woman in Trin’s arms. He could not see her, but the binding energy was easily recognizable, like a knife in his heart. Pain and confusion contorted his features.

Trin glanced to Sam’s freezing body and back to Anvil. In desperation he glanced at the door. Anvil turned and opened it.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

T
rin carried Sam through the door, into the warmth of the small house. Moving toward the bed, Anvil pulled the blankets away as Trin laid her down on the pillow still wrapped in Mikhail’s coat. Trin turned to face Anvil and was met with a cold wall of accusation. Anvil stood, completely ashen—eyes locked on Sam’s haunting face.

Trin took a tentative step. “Anvil...”

Anvil turned.
“What are you?”
His frame trembled, the energy around his body growing in a shield of bright white.
“Why have you come here?”
he seethed in agony “And
why...”
The words cut off in his throat, his eyes darting back to Sam. Overwhelming despair shattered the wall of anger and suspicion, replacing it with the all-consuming grief; always lurking right beneath the surface.

“Anvil, please listen.”

Agony and fury consumed his tribal brother. Trin knew his friend was about to break, as only a Keeper could.

“My name is Trinton,” Trin explained in a rush. “You are my mentor. You have been with me since I was two years old. I am the new Keeper of the Veduny tribe.
I am your successor.”

Anvil heard nothing. Pain had taken over and there was nothing Trin could do to stop it. The searing bright white gleamed around Anvil’s frame and Trin followed suit, preparing against all common sense to fight his mentor.

The first blow came, lightning quick, Trin blocking with expert precision just as Anvil had taught him years ago. Another wicked blow followed, then another, Trin barely blocking each one.

“
Anvil!”
Trin tried again, this time dodging a kick that would have sent him through the front door. This was not the master he knew. Blistering pain consumed him;
too fresh.

Anvil’s blind agony finally created a lack of focus which Trin took advantage of. Grabbing Anvil’s arm, he twisted him around, securing him in a lethal hold. He held his Keeper’s bracelet in front of him. “Look,” he demanded. “How would I have this? I know you can see it in my energy.
I am who I claim to be!”

Anvil stared, his frenzied eyes gazing in disbelief, the irrational hysteria abating. Loosening his hold, Trin released his brother to an upright position. Anvil turned, breath labored, staring at Trin and then at Sam lying unconscious on the bed.

“Sam is the next Veduny Oracle,” Trin breathed. “She is Anavi’s successor.”

Anvil looked from Trin to Sam, the blazing white shield disappearing.

Trin waited, chest heaving with shortened breath, waiting for his words to take hold.

Anvil studied Trin, studied the bracelet hanging from his wrist. “You are faster than I am.”

“You trained me.”

“I did well.”

“Yeah, I never thought I’d be using it to kick your ass.”

A hint of a smile crept into Anvil’s eyes, the brother Trin knew resurfacing. He took a step forward, eyes distant with astonishment. “How is it you are here?” he finally asked. “What has happened?”

Mikhail’s words reverberated in Trin’s head.
Things must stay the same. No contact.
Trin hesitated, not knowing how to proceed.

Anvil’s eyes flashed with exquisite intuition, completing his own detective work. He lifted his chin, eyes resolute, astounded.

“I’m so sorry,” Trin said, anguished. “You weren’t supposed to see us.”

Anvil held Trin in an inscrutable gaze. Finally, he crossed the room to Sam’s bedside; still reading, deciphering, decoding. “I disagree,” Anvil answered. “This was no mistake, especially something of this magnitude.”

Trin glanced at the floor. “You would say that,” he muttered.

Anvil looked up.

Trin shook his head and moved to face him fully. “What’s done is done,” Trin said. “I have been strictly forbidden to have any contact
with the tribe but that’s just not how it’s going to play. Chernobog is trying to cross.” Anvil’s eyes gleamed. Trin continued. “Ashbel is involved. He is after my charge and we’re not sure why or how it all ties in but they are working together. He entered our time, took her, and brought her here.”

Anvil stared in disbelief.
“How?”

“We don’t know,” Trin answered. “We were able to contain enough of his energy to send me here to get her. My instructions were to find Sam and bring her back without contacting the tribe.”

“It is too late for that,” Anvil said.

Trin nodded in somber acknowledgement.

Anvil grew silent for a moment, his head lowered. After a moment of consideration, he said, “We must get you back.”

“It’s not that simple,” Trin replied, glancing at Sam. “We can’t leave until she comes to.”

Anvil stared. “Why?”

“We had enough energy to get me
here,”
he said. “Sam is our only way back.”

Anvil squinted in confusion.

“Sam can also jump time.”

Anvil’s eyes drifted to Sam, astounded.

Trin moved past Anvil to the bed, sitting on the edge, taking Sam’s hand. “I don’t know how to reverse what he has done,” he said. “He did the same thing to Anavi. That’s why she couldn’t fight him.”

Anvil watched his successor with pained eyes. A moment passed and then he lowered his head and turned for the door. “I will go to the Elders and see if they know anything about this kind of power.”

“They won’t,” Trin said. “None of us know.”

Anvil watched Trin closely. “I will find out what I can,” he said. “I will be right back.”

“No one can know we are here.”

Anvil stared. “What choice do we have? You cannot stay here, and you cannot leave unless we can awaken Samantha.”

Trin stared, frustrated, knowing he was right. “Anvil,” he said. “I’m so sorry,” he looked to Sam, “for this...
for everything you have suffered.”

Anvil paused, wisdom radiating in his countenance through his sorrow. He did not know Trin, but he could not deny the kinship, predating Trin’s physical life, solidly marking his future. “Forgive me for attacking you.”

Trin gave a slight smile. “It’s good for me.”

Anvil stared a moment longer and turned for the door.