The Edge Of Destiny

---

The Edge Of Destiny - book excerpt

PROLOGUE – The Simoom

June 17, 1859, California

Unna quickly brushed her long black hair behind her ear, not caring if it was streaked with blood.

She had no time. She glanced back over her shoulder, as she flung the weighty satchel onto her back.

Damn, I’ll never make it, she thought to herself. Not if that’s really him.

The dark figure appeared, a hundred yards out, on foot. Unna’s mind raced, along with her horse’s heart. She could feel the blood rush through the animal beneath her. She shifted the weighty satchel on her back and allowed a look back through her crooked elbow.

The Elder stood there and raised his hands. He had no weapons, but he didn’t need any; he was the weapon. Una rode faster.

Pentoss, my love, where are you? She soothed her own mind with the thought of him. No time for that, she scolded herself, you are no damsel. Save yourself. Unna dug in her spurs, as hard as she dared without hurting her horse. Run like our lives depend on it because they do.

She could feel the horse lurch beneath her, but she could also feel the dark figure framed against the horizon. Her steed pounded away at the soft earth, giving distance between herself, her cargo, and the elder.

She stretched out her mind farther, ahead and all around for any place to escape, hide. California was a beautiful place; Rancheros as far as she could see, cattle everywhere. From the vantage, she saw the valley of farmers, ranchers, and their workers. She felt them all, but that’s not what she was looking for. She needed a way out, away. Her steed galloped furiously toward the hills.

Unna didn’t know how he’d found her, but the curious ways of Elders were nothing to ponder now. Her horse jumped a low rough wooden fence as the hill became steeper.

She stretched out her mind behind her, to feel if the elder had moved closer. He hadn’t, but something reached for her. Heat. A wave of blistering heat. A simoom. The ancient word rang in her head, sent ahead by the elder. A warning, mocking her.

Her mind conceived it, but it didn’t make any sense. Simooms happened naturally in the middle east, in the desert. Or, whenever Elder Yarro unleased his terrible power. She climbed the hill faster. She felt the sweat pour from the horse. Just a little farther.

The satchel weighed on her back. That was all that mattered, getting these out of the elder’s hands, anywhere, just away. Ahead, she saw the group of cows, a few stragglers, too small to be called a herd. The cows objected loudly as she galloped past them, two scattering as she raced up the hill.

She noticed her own sweat, and knew it was more than the effort of the ride. A wave of nausea wrenched her stomach as the tendrils of heat reached for her. Unna had no idea how far from the elder she was now, but the heat still came. Faster. Hotter. Oppressive. She heard a noise, looking back left through her riding arm again, and watched in amazement as a low copse of trees exploded in flame.

The cows expressed their displeasure, then one of them caught fire too. An otherworldly shriek came from the others as they ran, nowhere to hide.

Her steed faltered. Unna swooned but stayed on her saddle, forcing it to gallop. It slowed, the heat pushing at her from behind and above. Her horse screamed as its tail caught fire, swishing it madly back and forth like it was battling a barrage of flies made of flame.

The earth below them seemed to shimmer, then the wall of heat pushed harder, the super-heated air igniting the scrub grass behind them. The ground leveled out. They had reached the top of the hill, a plateau.

Unna spotted strange wavy lines to her left, along a small rise of earth and turned toward it. Her steed collapsed, pitching her forward. Her dark hair caught fire. She managed a rough roll over her shoulder, but could not get up to run, could not even imagine how to stop the heat. The world was an oven. The heat was like nothing she’d ever felt, not even in the desert lands she’d explored. She was inches from the sun. She tried to draw breath, but she could no longer breathe. She had swallowed fire. None of her past lifetimes prepared her for this sweltering hell. Unna dragged the satchel under her body. The clothes on her back caught fire.

Then the earth gave way beneath her. She fell into darkness. She didn’t register it as a crevasse. The earth just consumed her. She only knew it was cool, so dark and cool. She clung to the satchel, not knowing how her arms still worked. She felt only the cool rushing air over her blistered skin. Is my hair still on fire? Unna didn’t know.

The heat had scorched her lungs, her hair, her skin. She couldn’t speak. The darkness rushed into her. Unna’s last thoughts were, Pentoss, Pentoss, my love.

Two hours later, the fires had burned themselves out, and Elder Yarro stood on the hill. He swept past the charred remains of the horse, ignoring the charred smell of dead flesh.

He scowled at the crevasse below him. It was no wider than three feet across but might be a hundred feet deep. More dirt had collapsed into the crevasse with the woman.

No tools he knew of would penetrate that split in the earth. But at least he knew they would not be going anywhere. He had time, and no matter how many lifetimes it took, he would return and claim what belonged to him.

CHAPTER ONE – A Night Mission

Present Day, California

The five teens stood on the flat roof. This side overlooked the alley of the long-closed department store they stood on top of. They all took turns peering over the short half wall, down on the tagger spray painting the back wall of the building. Lucas seemed disinterested as he leaned his thin frame on the large air conditioning unit. Ariana stood next to him. Zacke, Katie and Cody whispered by the half wall overlooking the criminal.

“This is stupid.” Zacke folded his arms. “I’m not wearing that.” He handed the mask back to Cody.

Cody sighed and scratched his short brown hair in frustration. “If you don’t, they’ll see who you are. This is classic secret identity stuff.”

Katie snatched it and compared it to her own. “Are they Ninja Turtle masks? Where did you get these?”

“After Halloween.” Cody pointed to his own dark blue mask, with two eye holes cut out. “Half price.”

Zacke looked over the ledge, keeping it to a loud whisper, “We’re not ninjas, or superheroes. Stop trying to…”

“Shhh.” said Cody, finger over his mouth, very serious, glancing over the wall “Mirror man has…”

“Mirror Man?” Katie whispered to Lucas.

Lucas put his hands up, “Not my idea, I wanted Cody to be Electron.”

Ariana furrowed her brow at the name.

Cody straightened up. “Mirror Man is all I could think of. Name doesn’t matter.”

“Then I’m calling you Electro boy.” said Zacke.

“Stop it.” Cody leaned over the roof ledge, making sure not to be seen, “If we don’t do something soon, he’ll move on and damage someone else’s property.”

Katie shot side eyes to Lucas. “What do you think, Viking Boy?”

“I’m definitely not going to be Viking Boy.” Lucas shrugged. “What’s the plan again, Cody – umm, Mirror Man?”

“We’ve been over this,” answered Cody, concerned over the volume of their voices. “The masks are to hide our identities. The names… the names don’t matter, I guess. But we need to act. Do something. This is our team’s first mission.”

“What team?” asked Zacke. “It’s been months since the fire tower. John and David still haven’t contacted us. There is no team.”

Cody pointed to the tagger. “Yeah, I know. That’s why we need to do something. We can’t wait for John or my dad.”

Katie asked, “Still no word from them?”

Cody just shook his head. “We can’t just wait around. At least we can do this.”

“Fight petty crime?” asked Zacke.

“You were the police explorer. Better than doing nothing.” Cody shot back. “This will be easy.”

“Does this seem dangerous to anyone else?” asked Ariana. “Maybe the guy has a weapon.”

Lucas smiled “Hmm. Not a problem.”

Zacke said, “There’s a big difference between doing training and these ‘missions,’ or whatever.”

Katie touched Zacke’s arm. “Let’s just give this a chance. Cody worked really hard on this plan.”

Zacke kept his arms folded.

Lucas joined the rest of the teens. “Come on. We all agreed. Let’s just do this. If we don’t stop this crap, no one else will.”

“Except the police. Let me just call them.” Zacke pulled his cell from a back pocket.

“No!” said Cody, too loud.

“Hey!” a shout came from below. “Hey, who’s up there?”

They all froze.

“Who’s up there?” shouted the tagger from the alley. “I hear you!”

“Stop what you’re doing!” Cody said, his voiced deepened.

Lucas finished, “Or I’ll pull your lungs out through your shoulder blades.”

Ariana smacked Lucas. “Lucas? What the heck?”

“What? It’s a real thing.”

“Lucas? Lucas who?” shouted the tagger.

Lucas’ inner warrior said, “Hey, I wasn’t joking, criminal. It’s a very effective ancient way to kill.”

“We’re not here to kill him!” Zacke shook his head and reluctantly put on his mask, “never mind. Lucas, you better stay here. Katie and Cody, with me.”

Before Lucas or Ariana could object to being left behind, Zacke had taken flight, a tight arm around the waists of Cody and Katie. They adjusted their masks as they flew over the roof’s edge.

“What the fu…” started the tagger.

Zacke touched down in the alley, Katie and Cody awkwardly finding their feet.

“Come on man,” said Cody as he tripped and almost went over, not finding his feet well at all.

They had landed in between the tagger and his “art,” a large stylized “Never” emblazoned on the cinder block wall. The tagger dropped his can and casually grabbed for his cell phone. Before he could find the camera button, Cody had fried the phone with his ability.

“OWW – son of a whore.” The phone dropped to the ground, sparking wildly.

Zacke tried to follow Lucas’ script, “Sir, you need to stop destroying personal property.” He noticed that the tagger was no older than he was, maybe 16. He changed the script, “Man, just stop destroying other people’s shit.”

“Place is derelict. Owner got insurance,” the tagger shot back. “Mind your business.”

Zacke shook his head, “Dude, the guy that owns this business works probably works really hard, trying to find someone to rent it.” He pointed to the “art.” “Who’s going to rent it now? You ever heard of a deductible? He pays that out of pocket.”

The tagger wasn’t listening. He casually reached down for his can of paint and reached for something else in his other pocket.

Before Zacke could react, the tagger has pressed the button on the spray can and lit his lighter at the same time. The flame shot out at Zacke’s head. Just before it reached him, it curved back toward the tagger as though hitting a curved shield.

Just then, a wild cry came from above and Lucas landed behind the tagger.

Marveling at the perfect landing from two stories, Cody began, “How did you?” when he saw Lucas flick his wrists. The twin extendable metal batons clicked in to place.

Katie acted fast, throwing a shield ball at the tagger’s face. He took the impact, spun and splayed back five feet, also hitting Lucas.

Lucas made a “what did you do that for?” motion as he slid the batons back into their handles. He put them in his back pockets.

Ariana shouted from the roof, “We wanted him to stop, not get his head bashed in!”

A faint smile played across Lucas’ lips. Katie winced. Is that Lucas or his warrior?

Moans came from the tagger boy. They went to him. He was face down in an unnatural posture on the ground.

From the roof, Ariana asked, “Is that guy okay?”

The guy on the ground moaned his response as they turned him over.

Zacke asked, “What did you do, Katie?”

Katie couldn’t speak, starting at the boy’s face. The light from the streetlamp above lit his face and showed the damage. They all stared.

The boy tried to speak, “Uww oke my yaw!”

“I… I just threw a shield ball.” Katie sputtered. She went to yank off her mask but stopped.

Zacke winced as he looked at the boy, “Well, it looks like he took a cannonball to the jaw.”

A siren wailed, only blocks away.

“Damn!” said Cody. “Battle stance 13!” shouted Cody.

“What is that? We aren’t fighting the cops.” said Zacke, the siren closer. “Never mind. Katie, shield ball. I’ll lift us to the roof.”

Lucas, Cody, and Katie bunched close together. An invisible ball surrounded them all, like they were in a giant invisible bubble. Zacke lifted them all as the cop car swung their lights into the alley. He landed on the roof, next to Ariana. Katie dropped the shield, and they all found their feet. They waited. The siren stopped, but they saw the lights flash in the alley, throwing colorful lighted shadows on them.

“Umm Ugg!” came the incoherent sounds of the tagger. He pointed to the roof.

“Hey, who’s up there? Come down right now,” demanded the authoritative shout of a policewoman.

“He ratted us out,” said Cody.

“You fried his phone, remember?”

“Oh yeah, how did they get her so fast?” asked Ariana.

“No idea,” said Zacke. “We better go. Katie broke that guy’s jaw,” said Zacke.

“I didn’t mean to!” shouted Katie, too loud.

“I know,” said Zacke.

“Units are surrounding the building right now. There is no way off that roof,” came from the policewoman below.

“Uhgg ummm!” said the tagger, probably hoping the cop would pay more attention to his pain.

Zacke didn’t hear any more sirens. The policewoman was probably exaggerating, but more cops were coming. “Okay. We’ll run to the other side of the roof and bubble lift out of here.”

Lucas chimed in, “Escape plan 17! You did read my playbook.”

“Shut up!” Zacke said louder than he meant to. He crumpled his mask and crushed it into his pocket. “We just better pray no one saw us.”

Cody didn’t say anything else.

They ran to the far side of the roof. They huddled in close together. Katie threw up her shield ball and Zacke lifted them in the air. He hoped he chose a direction least likely to be seen. Since they were in a busy part of the city, no one could be sure. Katie chose a thick green shield in her mind, though only Ariana and Cody were able to see it. To everyone else, it was totally invisible. She promised herself more experiments and training later.

They floated away into the night. No one noticed the shadowy figure across the alley with his high-res digital camera.

CHAPTER TWO – Elders Meeting

Present Day, Italy

Elder Ordway stood in her white pant suit and blood red pumps – made, coincidentally, at a factory just a hundred miles away in Le Marche. Her feet hurt like hell, climbing all those stairs up to the palazzo, but Elder Zamma had made it impossible to use magic to approach his former lair.

She’d been watching from a distance. His palazzo was a palatial estate on the Amalfi Italian coast. Expensive, private. Ordway was surprised there were no guards and few defenses left. Just old magic fading after Zamma’s death. He also had that weird aversion to elevators, so the gruesome climb up all the marble stairs was unnecessarily exhausting. Ordway promised herself she’d have an underling massage her feet after this meeting was done.

It still stinks of him, she thought. She stood at the massive door, scanning for traps. Inside, his sanctum. He had been, perhaps, the most cunning of them. She repeated words of power in her mind, scanning the nearly invisible bonds of magic for any last traps. She spotted the swatch of color over the door as she felt a new presence behind her.

“Well?” spoke Sorrento, as though he’d been present the entire time. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of whirling around. He was safely five feet behind her by the stairs. No knives in the back, yet. Plus, it was Sorrento. Not much to worry about.

“Still sneaking up, I see,” said Ordway. “Of course, at your height, how could anyone see you coming?”

“Short jokes, really?” He looked down at his own short frame, “You know I’ve always hated this body, but your jibes don’t penetrate. Let me through, I’ll scan for traps.” Sorrento produced a curious object from his coat pocket of his custom-tailored suit. She wondered briefly if they had the same tailor. The object resembled a screwdriver and glowed green.

“Oh Sorrento, watching Doctor Who again? You and your gadgets. Just focus the magic yourself.” She smiled. “Did you come here in a red telephone box, as well?”

“It is a blue police box now, troglodyte. My device focuses magic in ways you couldn’t even understand.” His device made no sound, glowing the same eerie green. He put his gadget away. “All clear, no traps.”

“Are you sure?” asked Ordway as she reached up into the air above the door. She pulled the swatch of color off the elaborate door casement.

Sorrento shrieked.

Ordway pushed the large door open with magic, then flung the splotch of color into the room, like a scoop of muddy snow. It tumbled onto the floor, getting caught on the carpet.

The wash of color laid like a pile of jelly until an arm popped out, then a leg. The wad of colorful jelly flopped over and was soon in the form of a tall man. He wore board shorts and a flowery Hawaiian shirt.

“Hahahahah,” the man rolled on the carpet, as he reformed into himself.

Sorrento sniffed. “Yarro. Why is that funny?”

“You shrieked!” said Yarro, laughing through his thick gray beard. “It’s a wonder you both survived this long. I was above you the whole time.”

“I saw you the minute I arrived. Hard to miss that… whatever that is on your body.”

He indicated his colorful shirt. “Gotta stay comfortable.” Elder Yarro was still on the rug where he’d landed. “Nice rug. I might take this. Feels Persian, maybe Kazak?” He rolled onto his side, eyeing Ordway. “Care for a quick roll on the rug? Been a long time.”

Ordway rolled her eyes. “Last time I was a man and you were a woman, as I recall. Eons ago.”

“How do we know you aren’t a trap, Yarro?” said Sorrento.

Yarro rolled his eyes this time. “Ever to the point, Sorrento. We are at war, granted. This is a peace conference. Relax.” Yarro rose and made his way to the desk by the window, a mess of papers and ruined books. “Besides, if it was a trap, you’d be dead. But you’re not, so let’s cut the crap.”

“Let’s,” echoed Ordway.

Sorrento entered the room fully, still looking around as if there may be a hidden surprise. He surveyed a curious full-length mirror on the far wall with a few cracks in it. Yarro took a seat at the desk, and Ordway took off her shoes and sat on an antique couch, French, Louis the IV, she guessed.

“So, here we are,” said Yarro, “the last three Elders.”

“That we know of,” added Sorrento.

“You mean, the weak-willed Amartus elders? They are dead and gone,” Yarro said, riffling through papers. “Not many Amartus warriors left, either, by my count.”

“Oh? And how do we know?” said Sorrento, surveying the far side of the room. “Even the Sect won’t say where things stand.”

Ordway clicked on her phone. “Talk to the Sect much, do you? What do you think happened here?” she asked, gesturing around the ransacked room. “If you’ll notice, not much left of value.”

Sorrento had noticed. “You think so? But, the Sect are neutral. They can’t!”

“I saw a disciple after he’d murdered his elder Zamma and stolen his power.” Ordway rose from the couch. “It’s a new world, my friend. Things may be changing.”

“Friend? How can you forget we are at war?” Sorrento pulled out his device, but before he could wield it, Ordway used her power. A wall of water erupted out of nowhere, crashing over Sorrento and knocking the device and him across the room. Sorrento got to his feet soggily, the water soaking him, the bulk of the wave disappeared from whence it came.

Ordway stood on her bare feet, ready to defend or attack.

The Palazzo shook with a voice like an Olympian god, “ENOUGH!”

The mini earthquake caused Ordway to stumble over. Sorrento swayed and turned to Yarro.

Yarro’s power echoed away and the room stopped shaking. “Now, that’s better. We are here to decide what comes next. Forget the war.”

“Forget?” growled Sorrento.

“For now! Elder Zamma has been killed. His disciples, the brothers, have been killed. Because of Elder Ordway, we know there are at least five new players on the board.”

Ordway nodded. “Yes. A new break out. I’m sure of it. And Pentoss is back, out of hiding.”

Yarro laughed. “Of course he is. With Zamma gone, why not? He doesn’t have an elder hunting him.”

“No,” Ordway said, “now he’ll have three.”

Yarro smiled, leaned back in the desk chair, hands behind his head. “I suppose. That’s what we’re here to decide.”

No one spoke.

Yarro looked between them. “Well, we are palavering, so palaver. Ideas on strategy?”

Sorrento retrieved his device. “It’s obvious. Attack with all we have. They are five. We are the Rageto. We are legion.”

“Are you, Sorrento?” said Yarro. “Not what I hear. How many warriors do you have? Twenty? Less?”

“More than you, I hear,” Sorrento said grimly. “Want to find out?

“Ugg,” said Yarro. “This is why we never get together. Pissing contests! We are elders, not children. We have not lived all of these lives, been born into this power to simply bicker. Yes, we war on each other. It is in our nature. Time to change.”

“What do you suggest, oh great Elder Hawaiian shirt?” mocked Ordway.

Yarro came around the front of the desk. “The Amartus is weak. Their annoying dagger in our side is almost gone forever. The River seems to be flowing with us and not against us.”

“For now,” Sorrento huffed. “Until it changes its mind.”

“Yes, the ways of the River are mysterious. We are not meant to know… blah, blah, blah…” Yarro stroked his beard. “We need a final blow. The Amartus Elders are gone, their warriors have dwindled. We wipe these new children out, and we win.”

“Then begin fighting each other for eternity.” Sorrento suggested.

Ordway said quietly, “Oh no, surely not that long.”

Yarro walked down the steps to join the others. “Don’t you see? The River is giving us a clear sign, for once. Not war. Instead, it is time for us to finally unite.”

“Unite our power? How would that work?” Ordway motioned to the three of them. “We hate each other.”

“We compete with each other. I don’t hate either of you,” said Yarro, with his palms up, as if in peace.

“Oh no, I hate Ordway.” Sorrento pointed.

“Feeling’s mutual,” she gave a little mocking wave.

“Think! Look at this room. Zamma’s other disciples have scattered, ready to rally to a new Elder.