Harbinger (The Bleeding Worlds) (31 page)

“You were who you needed to be. You did what you had to. Our actions and dreams define who we are. What you do with this life is determined by you Gwynn, not by the ramblings of some fallen prophet.”

Gwynn collapsed on the sofa. His body felt untrustworthy, like it conspired against him. “There’s just so much I don’t understand. What about Adrastia? I keep seeing her and she’s always talking about some grand destiny.”

“She is a mystery that you might never solve. When it comes to her, though, be careful. I know I told you she was just a vision you had made up, but I’ve seen her too.”

“So what does that mean?” Gwynn asked.

Pridament shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t know. For now, she’s helped you—even saved your life. Until that changes, I guess you roll with it. Eventually you’ll find the answer.”

“I could use your help.”

“I don’t have all the answers. Truth is, you’re going to have to find answers for yourself. You were right; I’m not a big fan of Suture. But that’s more about my family issues than it is Suture itself.” Pridament sighed. “Honestly? I think you should take your grandfather up on his offer.”

“You mean join Suture?”

“It’s a win from all points. You will be working with people who will train you on how to control your abilities, who will be equipped to help you find the answers you’re seeking. And at the same time, you can help to heal the world you saved.”

“What about Jaimie?”

“Gwynn,” Pridament said, “Jaimie has known you might be different from the day she took you in. Your grandfather told me that he helped get Jaimie on her feet. She’s had some knowledge of Suture for years. When I talked to her, she said she understood that soon you would go to Suture, because it would be the right place for you. It’s your decision. No one can force you and no one can make the decision for you.”

“I just got used to having a father again.”

“And I was proud to have a son. But this is for the best. I know where you are. I’ll find you again.” Pridament turned toward the back door. “Now come and say goodbye.”

The two walked out into the backyard. A dull, grey winter afternoon sky greeted them. Their feet crunched on the light snow that had fallen.

“You might want to look away; this can be kind of bright.”

Gwynn threw his arms around Pridament. “Thank you. For everything.”

“I’ll see you again. Soon.”

Gwynn stepped back. Pridament gave a wave and a curtain of lightning engulfed him. Gwynn turned away. A moment past and the flash ceased.

Pridament was gone.

Returning to the house, Gwynn crashed onto the couch. He sat in silence for ten minutes, rolling around options in his head. He half–expected Adrastia to appear and tell him what he should do, but even she apparently decided to leave this up to him.

He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out the plain black cell phone. Gwynn flipped it open and shut, passed it from hand to hand and finally popped it open again.

A single button stared at him. His finger hovered over it.

He drew a long breath. As he let it out slowly, he pressed the button.

He put the phone to his ear and waited.

“Hello, Gwynn.” His grandfather answered.

“I’ve thought about what you said.”

“And?”

“I think you’re right.”
I’ve gone as far as I can here
. “I belong with Suture.”

Despite many solitary hours spent toiling away at words, I doubt any book has been created entirely in a vacuum. This book owes its existence to several people.

My wife suffered through my blathering on about ideas, plots, and frustrations. She provided great insight into the times when I should dial it back, and other times when I needed to hold no punches.

When the frightening time came to release these words into the world, Carolyn, Sabrina, and Dani, were my guinea pigs who gave me encouragement, suggestions, and pointed out my grammar and spelling faux pas. Their input greatly helped shape the book.

Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the wonderful writing community on Twitter, most of whom I met through use of the hastag #amwriting. On those days when I wanted to give up, or felt like the words would never come, they kept me going and shared their own stories of overcoming their doubts and fears. 

Since people always
do
judge a book by its cover, I'd like to thank Carolyn Macpherson for her wonderful work.

Finally, a thank you to
you
, the person reading this book right now. Being a writer is that one itch/dream that’s stayed with me since childhood, and your reading this right now is making that dream a reality. Thank you so much!

Justus R. Stone is just a guy who couldn’t let go of his one, undying, childhood dream–to be a writer. After years of filling his head with novels, comic books, video games, and anime, he finally let all the crazy ideas spill out through the keyboard.

Harbinger is his first book, with its sequel, Suture, to follow soon. At the same time, he tries his best not to go insane while working shift work, being a husband and father, and generally suffering from sleep deprivation.

To keep up on latest events and to find where you can follow and/or converse with him online, please visit: