Tentyrian Legacy (41 page)

“But Maximos, the collateral damage on this
could be huge,” Evander warns.

“I agree, but our options are limited. We
leave in thirty. Let’s get our men in position,” I say. Aristos and
Evander agree. “Proceed with the preparations; I need to speak with
Ari in private.”

Aristos gives her a kiss on her hand and
tells her to keep the iPad until we return. It has all of his
favorite books in the e-library, if she’s interested. He assures
her we’ll be back in a couple of hours and that he’s looking
forward to learning more about her. She thanks him and gives him a
kiss on the cheek. I don’t think I’m about to be extended the same
favor.

I shift us down to the beach in the hopes it
will calm her anxiety that I know has been brewing.

“I want to come, Maximos,” she says.

“Absolutely not,” I reply. The afternoon sun
is moving further to the west; we don’t have much time. I need to
get back and suit up for the mission and review the plan of attack
with my men already on the ground.

“But I can be helpful. I can read the
Subordinates’ minds, or whosever you need me to. Maybe I’ll find
out something useful!”

“No, too dangerous. You aren’t in control of
your power yet. And what are you going to do, Ari, hold the
Subordinates’ hands before you get into their heads? Subordinates
are fast, strong, and vicious. They’ll rip your throat out before
you get within ten feet of them.”

“You just expect me to sit here and wait for
you!” “Yes, that is exactly what I expect.”

“If I’m supposed to be the First Luminary,
then I’m supposed to lead and you are supposed to follow. That’s
what the prophecy says, you arrogant jerk!” she yells at me over
the crash of waves. The sunlight makes the blonder strands of her
hair glow. No one should look this pretty when they’re angry. Sasha
certainly didn’t.

“When that prophecy was written, I don’t
think Hathor expected you to face a pack of violent Subordinates,
or humans for that matter, within twenty-four hours of your
undergoing the Turn. You could get hurt or even hurt someone.”

“You act like your Brotherhood is the answer
to everything. If that’s the case, then why are we in this position
to begin with? Why is the Dark Coven even alive? Why were they able
to take Raad and Laura? Seems to me you don’t do your job very
well,” she says defiantly. It’s a blow to where it hurts most: my
pride. She may be right, but it doesn’t mean I’ll take her with
me.

“Say what you want, Ari. You aren’t coming.
If you want to be useful, work on your powers. But before you
continue your tirade against me, I wanted to give you this . . .” I
thrust toward her the gold pendant on a chain I pull quickly from
my pocket. I had it made for her not long after I suspected she
might be the star in our prophecy. I don’t know exactly what
compelled me to do it, but it seemed appropriate for her to have a
token of our shared past—even if it is a replica.

“It’s the zodiac symbol with all of the
original Tentyrian Covens. The Luminaries are portrayed here along
the sides—just like the one you’ve seen. If you look closely you
can see the four,” I point out. “All of the Luminaries and Hathor
wore ones just like it. I thought it would make a good birthday
present.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says in surprise as she
takes the delicate chain necklace from my oversized hand into her
smaller one. I’m hoping her anger is forgotten, at least
momentarily.

“Will you put it on me?” She turns her back
to me. I undo the clasp and put it around her neck. She lifts her
hair from the back of her neck, releasing more of the honey scent
and exposing that beautiful flesh that has been calling to me.
Somehow, I manage to close the small gold enclosure. She gives a
slight shiver as my fingers brush her skin. I breathe in the salty
tang of the Ionian Sea to help bring my senses back to where they
need to be. I must go.

“Thank you for the necklace, Maximos,” she
says genuinely as she turns around. “But I still think you should
take me with you.”

“You just won’t let up.” Okay, I decide, if
she wants to come along, then she’ll have to prove she’s ready. “If
you want to go on this mission, then meet me back up at the villa.
You’ll have to shift if you are going to make it in time. You seem
confident in your power, after all.”

“That’s not fair, Maximos!”

“It’s not? Well if you can’t make it, take
the path,” I say as I point to the coral steps that lead back up
the side of the cliff. It’s at least a thirty-minute walk, even
with her increased speed. She’ll never make it in time. We’ll be
gone in ten minutes. When I get back to the villa, I’ll tell Ryan
to get her so she doesn’t have to walk up the steep steps by
herself.

“Be safe, matia mou. I’ll see you soon.” I
shift away before she can say another word.

2010 AD, July

Ambrosine Island, Ionian Sea

I sit down on the sunbaked sand in
frustration. Damn him. He knows I won’t make it back to the villa
in time if I have to take the path. I close my eyes and try to
focus on the terracotta-laid pavilion to move myself to the villa.
But all I succeed in doing is giving myself a headache. How am I
supposed to learn if no one teaches me? If only Raad were here. I
offer up a quick prayer for his and Laura’s safe return—I don’t
even know who I’m praying to, but I’ll do anything if it helps.

My senses still haven’t adapted to the
Tentyrian sensory overload. The sun’s light is blinding.
Unfortunately, I forgot the sunglasses in the Control Room. It was
easy to get distracted in there: that place looked like a cross
between the Starship Enterprise and an armory museum. In addition
to the plasma screens and computers that filled the room, guns,
knives, and armor lined the windowless walls. There must have been
weapons from every century there—no doubt acquired by Maximos and
his Brothers firsthand.

I make my way over to some rocks shaded by
the cliff’s mammoth height to get out of the sun. Although I don’t
have my sunglasses, I still have the iPad Aristos left me. I wonder
if it can connect to the Internet out here and access my e-mail . .
.

Within minutes, I find my attempt is
fruitless. But I’m not about to sit here placidly and read Anna
Karenina, an unusual favorite for a man as intimidating as Aristos.
It’s amazing to think that he is actually my family . . . Oh my
God, my family.

The realization dawns on me. Through this
whole ordeal, I’ve barely given any thought to my parents. Our
relationship may be strained, but I should have asked about their
well-being immediately. What if the Dark Coven has them too? If
they took Raad and Laura, why wouldn’t they take them? What kind of
daughter am I?

As soon as Maximos gets back, I’ll find out.
I can only hope he provided them with a security detail. Meanwhile,
I am to sit here on this island, helpless. I grab a rock from the
sand and chuck it out at the ocean in anger. Rather than landing
only a few yards out as expected, the rock travels about a mile
through the air, disappearing into the foamy crests of the ocean. I
can feel the tendons, sinew, and muscles of my body work together
in their kinetic splendor.

The strength of my own body is astounding,
although right now, it won’t do me any good. I should try to be
productive rather than pout like a child left home. Perhaps reading
more about the Book of Hathor will help? I navigate back to the
document Aristos showed me and start at the beginning.

What I find is amazing. Their queen predicted
the Crusades, the French Revolution, the creation of penicillin,
the rise of Abraham Lincoln and his inevitable assassination, the
same for JFK, the Wright Brothers, World Wars I and II, computers,
cell phones, the Afghan war, 9/11, and so much more. The
predictions go on and on, stopping with Hathor’s last entry dated
52 BC, where she predicts my birth and the Earth’s destruction.

Hathor was a real Nostradamus. And her
predictions aren’t just vague visions. Some give specific names,
locations, and dates. But why tell the Brothers not to act on the
predictions? If that is what she wanted, then why even write them
in a book? The Brothers could have saved millions of lives.
Instead, they stood by and watched it all happen? I shut the device
off in disgust. There are no clues in here that will help my cause.
I should head back to the compound. I give shifting another try,
with no result. I’ll have to get to the villa the good
old-fashioned way—by walking.

I begin to make my way up the winding path
nestled into the side of the cliff, careful to mind the sharp edges
and rough brushwood with my bare feet. I hear a crunch of rock
under a boot and look up to find Ryan standing in front of me.

“Hello, little one,” he says with a grin. He
extends a hand toward me. I reluctantly take it. With the way the
sun is shining in my eyes and the steep incline of the path, it’s a
relief to have a steady hand in mine.

“You were taking too long. You had me
worried,” he says.

“You could have fooled me. Aren’t you
supposed to be in the Control Room?” I ask.

“They aren’t raiding for another hour. They
are still securing the areas. Maximos told me to retrieve you. I
figured I’d give you some time on your own. When you didn’t show
up, I started to worry you tried to swim out to the next island.” I
raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s more than
twenty miles away and you’d drown. Knowing you, you are dumb enough
to try it. Hence I’m here.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor. Thanks so
much.” “Just doing my job.”

After we complete our ascent, we find
ourselves at the top of the cliff with at least three acres of
orchard stretched ahead of us before we will reach the villa. We
begin to walk, and I match my pace and stride to his.

“So you’re full Tentyrian now?” he asks. “I
suppose.”

“We’ve waited for you a long time, you know,”
he says almost accusatorily.

“I guess I couldn’t really help that, now
could I?” “No, but you could try to express some gratitude.”
“Excuse me?” I feel my gums pricking in anger.

“Maybe gratitude is not the right word, but
some respect wouldn’t hurt,” Ryan says bluntly.

“I give respect when it’s due,” I snap. “I
read what Hathor predicted, and you all did nothing. You could have
saved lives. Instead, you all were probably too busy fighting with
the Dark Coven.”

“You don’t understand, Arianna. Maximos and
the rest of us have dedicated our lives to protecting humanity. But
changing the future isn’t as easy as you think.”

“But you are trying to do it now. So why not
before?”

“When you meddle with fate, it causes a
ripple effect,” he explains as we continue to make our way down the
alley of olive trees. “You might succeed in making a change, but
it’s entirely possible what you do will have a worse impact than
what you were trying to prevent. Or the outcome will inevitably be
the same. Did Maximos tell you why he created me?”

“No. Just that all the Brothers had proven
themselves and they made the choice to be changed.”

“That’s right. But every Brother has their
own unique story about their creation. For me, mine began in
Eritrea.”

“That’s in the Horn of Africa, right?”

“Yes. In my human life, I was stationed there
as a Peace Corps volunteer. I was young, freshly graduated from
Cornell, and looking to change the world. In Maximos’ time, the
Ptolemaic kings of Egypt used Eritrea as a source of war elephants.
The country is now run by the People’s Front for Democracy and
Justice. No other political groups are allowed to organize,
elections don’t exist, and the human rights violations rival those
of North Korea.

“It was 1992, and I was an English teacher
there. Eritrea had just seceded from Ethiopia, and the unrest was
significant. With the help of the UN, elections were soon to be
held for a president. There was hope. . . Maximos and the Brothers
were in the same village as my school, investigating the
trafficking of weapons that they believed to be supplied by the
Dark Coven. What I didn’t know at the time was that the Brothers
knew that a war with Ethiopia was about break out within the
country and thousands of people would be killed. Hathor predicted
the war would last for two years. One afternoon, I was teaching
class when gunfire erupted in the streets. Believe it or not, it
wasn’t unusual, so we closed the shutters, locked the doors, and
hid under the desks like we always did.

“But this time, guerilla soldiers broke down
the door. Despite my protests, they separated the boys from the
girls and loaded them into trucks to be taken to training camps to
‘bring pride to their country.’ What that really meant was they
were to be sent into battle, to be used mostly as human shields.
When I tried to protest, they shot me. As they drove away, I was
able to pull myself up from the bloodied schoolroom floor. I then
ran door to door asking for help. Help to get the children back.
The doors closed in my faces. Some of those doors were even those
of the children’s homes. People were too scared.