Shattered Destiny (20 page)

Jon did not know where he was when he finally stopped. He hit his knees in the crunchy pine needles, chest heaving, tears flowing. It was silent, save for a few birdcalls in the distance. He clenched his fists. The call of the dark power was strong, as it always was when he was angry or scared. The whispering voices were loud and growing louder. Jon longed to give into the faceless voices surrounding him, to draw on the power and unleash it on someone or something. The hurt and betrayal at finding out about his adoption filled him.
I am
his
son!
The thought made Jon wince and cringe, and he curled into a ball, trying to hide from the shameful truth.

But how could he deny who he really was?

This question burned into Jon's mind and soul. He wanted to believe that he was a good person and that the murmuring voices encouraging him to take the magic were only a product of what he had been forced to do while in the Queen's clutches. But the maniacal hiss in his brain telling him that it was his ability to touch the dark magic that had made Fa’ Vel take him in the first place silenced the buzz of logic.

Willam and Beth came across their son lying in the fetal position on the hard ground. When Beth reached out to touch her son, he flinched and moved away.

“Jon, I'm not sure how you found out. We should have told you ourselves, but we honestly don't think of you as our ‘adopted’ son. To us, you are as much a part of us as if we had been your real parents.”

“Except I'm not your real son. I'm the son of a murdering monster.”

“What do you mean?” Willam asked.

“Fa’ Vel claims I'm
his
son!”

Beth pulled back her hand. Jon's voice sounded so stony, so hard. “Jon…” Her breath hitched with the tumultuous emotions flowing through her. There was so much she needed to tell him and
she was not sure where to start. “When I was unable to conceive, we were both devastated. I felt a failure, as a wife.” She looked to Willam briefly. “When we saw you in the orphanage in Faerow, it was as if the light of the good Spirits was shining in you. You were so tiny and perfect. You wailed and screeched so loudly that your poor little face was beet red. As soon as I held you in my arms, you stopped crying.” Beth rocked back and forth, her hands cradled to her chest, completely lost in the memory. “You looked up at me and smiled and my heart was yours. I knew at that moment that I would do anything for you. Anything at all.”

Beth looked up and was surprised to find Jon staring at her. She took his attention as a good sign and continued. “When I gave you to Willam to hold, you reached up to grab his nose and laughed. The sound was the best thing I had ever heard in my life.”

Jon held his breath. He could remember reaching up to pinch his father's generous nose when he was a child and giggling like a fool. Willam would then gently pinch Jon's nose and envelop the boy in a bear hug. It was a powerful memory, one of good times and loving feelings.

“Jon, what I felt that day holding you in my arms, everything about it was so
right.
As if it were the plan of the good Spirits that we come to you.” Beth smiled wistfully. “I would often watch you while you slept, and I would be instantly taken back to the day we brought you home. From the moment we saw you, you were ours, our child, our
son.”

“You must have changed your mind about me when the girls were born.” Jon was unwilling to let his parents into the fortress he had built around his heart. It would be so much easier to simply hate them and erase them from his mind forever. But he wanted so badly to throw himself at his mother, to feel her arms surround him. He wanted to tell them how thoughts of them had been the only thing that had gotten him through the kidnapping, but he clenched his teeth to keep the words from pouring out.

“We never changed our mind, Jon. Loving a child isn't something you can just turn off at a whim. At least, not for us. Once the girls arrived, it simply added to the joy we already felt at being your parents. And watching you with them has been nothing short
of pure bliss for us. You are so good with them, so kind and patient.” Beth's hands were clenched in her lap. It took all of her strength to keep from reaching out to her only son. She knew that he was on the edge of a precipice. A wrong move from either of them could force him off the edge, and they would lose him forever.

“Son, you and the girls are everything to us….” Willam's voice caught and no more words would come.

“Jon?” Holly, with Fara and Niki in tow, walked timidly up to her brother.

Jon took one look at his terrified and confused sisters and lost his hold on the anger. It melted away as he grabbed the girls in a hug. He rocked back and forth, smoothing their hair, telling them not to worry, that everything was going to be fine. At this moment, he was their big brother. It didn't matter that he wasn't born to Willam and Beth. They loved him the same as the girls. He couldn't hide the truth from himself. His mind flooded with good memories of his childhood and of growing up safe, warm, and well-fed.

The anger did not completely leave him. It had shifted, from Willam and Beth to the evil man who had tried to turn Jon against his family and isolate him. Jon allowed it to smolder. He hoped he would be given another opportunity to face the man.

This time, he would not escape.

ASTRA

GEROK HAD THEM UP
early, eager to get to the portal cave. Helplessness gnawed at his insides, making him short-tempered. He constantly harried the group, urging them to hurry.

“I don't see why you are so anxious to return. We are all grown men and women, capable of making our own decisions.” Sloan was tired of the man's whining.

“You do not understand. If the Masters can't figure out what to do, we are lost.” Gerok wished the Earth man could understand how important the prophecies were and how much they needed them.

“If they do not know what to do, we will make a decision,” Sloan stated. He moved his horse away, unable to stomach the incessant whining. At the sound of another horse approaching, he turned and smiled. He was not at all surprised to find Keera riding next to him, a red curl tucked between her teeth. It was a habit he was beginning to find quite adorable. As if aware of his scrutiny, she hurriedly took her hair from her mouth.

“Something on your mind?” Sloan knew the redhead only chewed her hair when she was thinking hard about something, or worried.

“There is so much, I hardly know where to start,” She sighed. “I
mean, why are we bothering to go back to Gentra? More of us have died. I think that maybe we have failed and that we should all just return to our own planets.” The hair made its way back between her tiny white teeth.

“I guess it helps to have a destination, something to
do.
People lose hope if there isn't a way forward.”

“But it is pointless. Right?” She looked to him, blue eyes pleading, asking for some comfort.

“I don't know. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn't.”

Keera snorted. “Feeling cryptic I see.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “I suppose going there is as good as staying here.”

Sloan tried not to grin. He was quite certain she would not take it the right way. “Maybe the Masters have some new information for us. It can't hurt anything to return. I just worry that everyone is hoping for a miracle. They should prepare for bad news.”

Keera glared. “My, we are just full of cheer today!” She rolled her eyes. “You are probably right of course.
Probably.”
She glanced at Sloan to make sure he had caught that last.

As the two rode, Sloan pondered at the girl's ability to make him laugh out loud. He had not wanted to laugh for so long. It felt good.

The Chosen and their Guardians were pleased to see people returning to their homes and their lives. Many wondered if the loss of their friends and comrades was worth helping these people regain control of their land and their farms. Though they tried to hide it, they rode a little taller in the saddle, knowing they were the reason the people felt safe enough to begin rebuilding their lives.

The red rocks of the Stroh Hills came into view, just barely visible on the horizon, growing larger the closer they got. Their appearance dampened the spirits of the group, and they spoke in hushed voices. They knew what awaited them: interminable pain, timeless travel in the formless void, emerging into the watery realm of Gentra. Most of the Chosen were ashamed. As if they were somehow to blame for the deaths of the others. Many wondered if perhaps rescuing Brok was been a mistake after all. The prophecy stated the importance of the Chosen. It said nothing of the survival of the Guardians. It was possible that by rescuing Brok, they might
have caused the deaths of all they knew and loved.

Robert Marshall pondered these things as they rode closer to the portal. He had always thought he had a good grip on God and what He wanted of the people of Earth. Learning of the existence of other planets, other races of beings and what the prophecies stated made him question everything he thought he knew. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Robert was not sure he liked it at all. He had read the Bible several times, and nothing he had ever read mentioned other worlds or giant machines coming to destroy planets.

“Don't think too hard on things.”

Robert looked over and smiled at Mark. “Am I that transparent?”

“To those of us who know you, yes.” Mark smiled somberly. “With all that has happened, it is natural to question things. I have to admit, I have been confused ever since the General brought us to that damn cave.”

“You still call him the General?”

Mark shrugged. “He will always be Ted Smith to me.”

“I just hate questioning my faith. All my life I have known there is one true God and that his only son Jesus died for us on the cross so that we could spend eternity in Heaven. But nothing we have experienced recently supports the truth of the Holy Book. Or does it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in Revelations, we learn of the end of days. Maybe God is sending the Mekans to do the deed?” Robert shook his head, as if the words did not quite fit.

“Who knows what is in the mind of God and what he does or does not intend for us,” Mark said.

“And what of these others?” Robert gestured to the other Chosen. “The Bible says nothing of other planets with life forms. Does God watch over them too? Were they created by their own God? If so, do the Gods talk to one another?”

Mark laughed. “You will drive yourself crazy thinking like this, my friend. Remember, men wrote the Bible. Who knows how they may have interpreted what the Lord said to them?”

Robert gave Mark a sidelong glance. “Since when did you become such a philosopher?”

“Since we got thrown into this mess,” Mark said simply.

The group arrived at the portal at dusk. Kaelin suggested setting up camp and traveling to Gentra first thing in the morning. She wanted to put off entering the portal as long as possible. Several others seconded the idea but were overruled by the adamant Gerok. He refused to let them postpone the journey.

“We have waited long enough. It is time you all remember that there is a bigger fight coming than what we have fought here. We should have never gone after Brok. Maybe we would not have lost more of the Chosen.” He blamed himself for being weak and allowing the others to convince him to rescue Brok.

Anxiety consumed him. He found it hard to draw breath around the constricting in his chest. Gerok wanted to believe that everything would work out as planned, but he could not seem to find any hope. The death of only one Chosen could be dealt with; the deaths of five were too much.

The Chosen and their Guardians took off their clothes and piled them neatly on the floor. The only ones that seemed perfectly at ease were the Volgons and Kromins. Gerok hurriedly touched the symbol for Gentra and did not look back before stepping into the portal, bound for home.

EARTH

GEROK BURST THROUGH THE PORTAL.
His first thought was that this trip seemed to take even longer than the usual eternity.

His second thought was that something did not feel right.

His last was wondering why he could hear his own voice gasping for air. He stood slowly, wondering why he had legs and arms. His brain was still foggy, but enough logic seeped through the edges, telling him that he was most definitely
not
on Gentra.

Then where am I?

Gerok moved away from the portal, noticing for the first time that his physical form on this planet was much like the one he had taken while on Astra.

Someone came through the portal, gasping and crying out in fear, looking about in confusion.

“Wha….?”

“I don't know. But something is very wrong.” Gerok looked about the cave, trying to gain control of his body. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Gerok barked.

“We are in the portal cave on Earth!” Sloan stood on wobbly legs, gazing about in bewilderment.

More of the Chosen emerged, in much the same state as the other two who had come before. Those from Earth were astounded that they had emerged on their home world rather than Gentra. They wondered if they had somehow touched the wrong symbol. But Gerok was certain he had touched the triangle with the circle inside.
There is no way we all touched the wrong one.