Lightning Kissed

  ***

  The next morning, I flashed to the front door of the Lucent Guardian of the area. I’d been told that he guarded the clandestine records, but I hadn’t gotten the information from the most reliable source—I’d gotten it from an on-the-fence Resin. For all I knew, I could be walking right into the pit.

  The guardian’s home was more castle than cottage with vines and flower-laden plants climbing the fence and peeking out from cracks in the gray stone walls. When knocking at the huge iron and oak front door didn’t produce any results, I pulled the long rope-like cord next to the threshold. A gong rang through the place and then, within seconds, a man lurched the door open—clearly, I’d disturbed—something. I hoped to God the white button- down with gray slacks I’d worn was formal enough.

  I used a cough to camouflage the gasp that erupted when the owner appeared.

  The man was huge—monstrous, really. I could’ve taken a picture of him, Photoshopped some fur on his body, and passed him off for Sasquatch. His long ponytail and beard reminded me of a Viking warrior. I supposed that was why he had been chosen—for the scare factor.

  “Excuse me, sir, my name is Theodore Ramsey. I was told to ask you about accessing the Lucent texts.” Take that, you six foot four, could have me in a coma with his pinkie finger, Yeti.

  “Why?”

  Why—I hadn’t expected why. Why was he asking me why? I’d always thought the Lucent texts to be the equivalent of the state library. Fill out a form and walk right in.

  I should’ve known better. The Synod had rules for everything under the sun. They also had rules for things not done under the sun.

  Micro-management didn’t even begin to thoroughly describe them, and since the Lucent Guardians were part of the Synod or directly under them, I supposed they’d make this process just as difficult.

  “Because I have questions and I need to research some things about myself.”

  “There are copies of the archives available for anyone to view,” he respectfully swore and then proceeded to close the door in my face. This was the point at which a smart man would’ve moved on, turned right around and just dealt with it. But I’d never professed to be a smart man—only cunning. I was gonna die at the ripe old age of twenty at the hands of a cryptozoologist’s wet dream.

  “I can just flash inside if I want to, but I thought the respectful thing would be to ask,” I yelled into the splice of the open door, which grew smaller and smaller as he shut me out. And then it halted and began to swing open again.

  “You can travel?” He stuck his large face into the opening. When he spoke, his jaw worked against the frame and the door at once. It reminded me of Jack Nicholson when he’d stuck his head into the hole he’d just axed open.

  “Yes, I am also a seeker and—maybe more.”

  “Come in.” The door swung wide for my entrance and then closed firmly behind me.

  The Yeti stuck out his hand. “I am Collin. Let’s begin the journey.” He was no nonsense.

  “Now?”

  “I’m sorry; I thought your reason for coming here was to study the texts.”

  “It is—I just didn’t expect—let’s go.”

  With heavy footsteps, we made a straight shot through his castle. He took me to the back of the house, then through an invisible panel in the wall which led to a library that would make the United States Library of Congress shit its pants.

  The shelves were made of cedar. I could smell it way before the door was opened. There were book shelves nine feet tall spanning the room. Just when I thought my eyes had trailed to its northern limit, I saw a set of stairs that led to the second floor—with more books.

  “This is it?” I asked, staring, quite unimpressed.

  “Did you need more?” he asked, unbelieving.

  “I just assumed…”

  He chuckled, a low grumbling laugh. “You assumed it was a cave-like cavern, buried deep in the mountain, never to be discovered, taking days and weeks of hiking and starvation to reach?”

  “Yeah, something like that. So tell me, where in the hell do I start?”

  “Tell me, Theodore Ramsey, male Traveler, what you’re looking for. I’ve been the Guardian for forty years. If it’s here, I know where to find it.”

  “I’m looking for the papers on Eivan.”

  He screwed his face up in disbelief. “And why would you be looking for those?” His attitude had suddenly morphed from helpful to suspicious.

  “Because I think I’m a…” I couldn’t even say it out loud. If I couldn’t say it, there was no way I was who I suspected I was. The person I suspected I was embodied strength and confidence. We were told stories about him as children. He was to our people as Robin Hood was to humans.

  I gathered my courage and tugged nervously at my top button, preparing to tell the first person ever of what I’d discovered about myself. “I am Eidolon.”