The Royal Stones of Eden (Royal Secrecies Book 1) (35 page)

“Peter figured it out,” Sam said. He blazed in with his cane, into the room of Knights and the Priest. He had with him a piece of paper that he had chemically treated. It showed enhanced indentations on it. He also had a cell phone record statement, obtained with the help of his friends in the CIA. It contained the records of Peter’s calls that he had made from North Carolina to Kanab, Utah. “The cell phone records confirm it. He checked out the hotels in Kanab just before he left, and I am sure that is where he is now!”

Sam saw Haj, and before he could walk toward him with his assisting cane, Haj came to him instead. They embraced somewhat uncomfortably. Sam was not usually an emotional man, but tears came to him that day, in that Salt Lake City condominium, near Temple Square.

After a catered lunch from a local restaurant, they began to discuss Haj’s story, concerning his absence. Haj was as brief as possible, considering what task they had to face next.

“I realize that the events that David and Mattie have recently experienced, and the incredible stories, must defy imagination,” a cleaned up Haj said with a disarming grin.

“Sam, what did you find out?” Haj said as he grabbed a potato chip in a nearby plastic bowl and savored a luxury, one denied to him for five years—junk food. Then Sam spoke.

“The markings on a notepad confirm that Peter—or I should say Dred—is on his way to the Monte Caves. He reserved a car there for tomorrow. While Peter was in North Carolina, he also went to Banner Elk. His call records confirm that also.”—Sam sat down to explain but was interrupted by Mattie.

“I know Banner Elk. It is a mountain city near Boone, North Carolina, in the western part of the state. Why did he go there?”—Mattie’s cat Pili jumped up and onto her lap while a nearby Charlie wagged his tail and waited for a chance to chase the calico creature.

“He must have gone to see the Ani Nvya (Anee naw YAW), the leader of the People of The Stone,” Tom blurted out. “But he was discredited years ago. His stories were too incredible for anyone to believe.”

“What?”—David had said what Mattie was also thinking. Did they miss something?

“The Magi, Mattie—” Haj volunteered to answer. “—the Magi was the first group of the Guardians to die out, or rather, disappear. For years there was a small group that called themselves the Ani Nvya. They claimed to be their descendants. The one last remaining member of the Magi, it was said, lived in the mountains of North Carolina.”

Tom continued Haj’s thought, “He died about five years ago, but no one ever found anything, either before or after his death, that conclusively proved the claims of the Ani Nvya.”

“Yes, but what if—” Haj attempted to focus. “—what if Peter found something that proved they were linked to the Monte Caves?”

“The Monte Caves is short for the caves that held the fabled treasures of Montezuma,” Tom said as he leaned toward David and Mattie from his position on a couch.

Sam was next. “It’s no good. There is nothing there. We have checked those caves, again and again.”

David added, “Then he must have found something—but what is this treasure? Don’t tell me—more stones?”

“No—a passage to home. Dred’s home below, or rather a place where his people live,” Tom said, after sipping, what he called, a spot of tea.

Pili jumped down from Mattie’s lap, and Charlie chased her into the kitchen and then into the bedroom.

“Haj?” Mattie asked him. “What happened to your wife? David told me today that Pili and Charlie were her pets. Is she alive? Or did she go into hiding?”—Mattie had been afraid to ask this because she did not want to bring up her own past, a growing past that she had started to remember. Mattie continued to guard her thoughts.

He curiously ignored her probe and asked her a question instead. “Do you remember your life in that other world, Mattie?” Haj asked her.

“I don’t remember all of the details,” Mattie lied.

What is she hiding from us, David thought.

“I will finish my story, but I want a promise from you, Mattie,” Haj said with a genuine tone.

“Of course,” Mattie agreed.

“After I am finished with my story, I want you to tell David everything that you remember. Tell him privately, but reveal it all to him. If Dred has knowledge that David doesn’t, it may cause him harm or be used against him. David must know everything! You can tell the rest of us when you are ready to do so,” Haj advised.

Mattie agreed to Haj’s terms, and everyone witnessed her words. Secretly in her heart, she only agreed to tell David selected items from her past, not the whole truth. Then Haj continued the story concerning the corruption of Peter Jenkins.

Haj knows! He knows about me! He knows everything!

Mattie was worried.

Chapter 22

Gold Rush Fever

Part Three

In the Words of Haj

He looked like Peter, and he sounded like Peter. He had his mannerisms, his specific tone, and accent, but something was different. It didn’t feel right. So I questioned Peter about it.

Peter claimed that he felt no different than before the trip. But he
was
different. Something had changed. He had no knowledge of being stabbed, but he remembered everything else. He even remembered that he did not like Dred.

He insisted that he
was
Peter, but he left out one important detail. When I questioned Peter about his remark about the girl at the camp—the one that he had said looked like my wife—Peter could not remember it. It was as if that experience was blocked from his memory.

This meant that two incredible and unbelievable things were possible. Maybe the gypsy woman was actually my wife, and Peter was in reality Dred. But how was this first idea possible, I thought. Did my wife cast a spell over me or over Peter? Did she subliminally plant a bug within the memory of Peter Jenkins? Was it a code that could only be unlocked by the genuine Peter? Maybe the woman was not my wife and it was simply a thought that was injected into Peter’s mind when my wife once spoke to him in private, I considered. I pondered the possibilities. I needed to know for sure what really had happened.

As to the idea of Peter being Dred, I was more convinced. It was a rare thing when a transference occurred that accompanied a dual-controlled memory thread. Usually the entering spirit gradually took over any memory threads that remained in the previous occupant’s brain, while the residue of the previous will lingered and struggled for control for a brief time. In some cases, the will of the original person took precedence while the will of the entering person fought desperately to remember its life. However, in the case of Peter and Dred, the dominant memory was that of Dred, the entering entity, while the memory of Peter, inside the brain, still had some degree of control as it struggled to remember its existence. Both personalities were in control at the same time, but over different memories.

Was Peter dead? Was Peter dying and not quite dead?

There were two other similar but rare types of transference, where the entering person and the existing one shared memories and control simultaneously at death. There was the extremely rare occurrence where a female and male mind shared the same brain at death, even for a brief moment. There was also the rare transference by invitation, where someone who was committing suicide invited a wandering spirit into the mind, and, upon death, they merged. However, even in both of these cases, the entering spirits were still the dominant ones, while the old memories were usually nothing more than that—inactive memory files, accessible but no longer active—no longer in control.

In Peter’s case, it was almost as if there was a simultaneous active thread of memory from both Peter and Dred. If my suspicions were true, then this is what had happened. Dred had purposely, with malice, entered Peter’s brain, and they had both merged, which expedited Peter’s death. Peter was dying, of that it was certain. But Dred had entered too soon while Peter still held on. Dred had technically committed murder of the worst possible kind—mind death. This explained the missing or corruption of the recent memory. Dred knew of some of Peter’s memories but had no access to other parts.

Whatever was left of Peter, Dred used it to my disadvantage, but I was given the single clue. If the gypsy had looked like my wife, and I could not see it—perhaps I truly
had
been under a spell. It was either that or Peter was just dazed by the time travel. I had to know which one it was. I had to go back in time, by myself. I had to meet this woman again, even at the risk of being locked into another spell.

There was another reason to return. If Dred had truly taken over Peter’s body and mind, then I had to hide the traveling stones from him. I had to scatter them, perhaps in the past. I had to find unknowing but trustworthy persons to assist. Without the stones, and without the telekinesis, Dred would be harmless, a raving madman to others and a mere nuisance to me. This I could handle, but with the power of the stones he would be dangerous.

It was also possible that Peter had infected Dred with intentional confusion—a memory mix. If this was true, then it would be difficult for him to function properly as his true self. In Dred’s haste for survival, he may have taken on Peter’s traits along with his memories. In any case, Dred was not the same person, not exactly. He was inherently evil, but he had the mindset of a scientist now. He was an evil Peter at the very least.

I knew that I would need to enlist people that I could trust to deal with this evil. When we returned to Cairo, I immediately contacted Tom to assist me. I told him that I needed to discuss an urgent matter with him. I phoned him at his hotel, once Peter and I returned from the past. This was minutes before a sheriff came bursting into the saloon in the past of California. We had avoided the hangman’s noose.

I told Peter that I wanted to make a phone call to David at the hotel, to tell him to postpone his visit today, an excuse that seemed to fool him. I went into a private office, while Peter, as Dred, examined my laboratory.

The laboratory had been secured for the most part. Most of the stones were locked in the safe, once we returned. The salmon stone, however, was still in the vice. I also had three stones in my bag. One was David’s white stone and two were the blue and white stones from our time travel trip. The green stone and the others were placed back into the safe. Priests had their own secret methods of traveling into the past, so the green stone would not be necessary. The only two people in the world that knew the combination of the safe was the deceased Merlin and me. So, I assumed those stones would be safe.

I needed to get rid of the stones of travel, at the very least. In my haste, I forgot to retrieve the matching blue stone to David’s white stone. But at least I would prevent time travel by getting rid of both of the white stones, I thought. I decided to give David, in a time past, the white stone, and Mattie the other stones of blue and white.

As to my phone conversation with Tom, I was brief but to the point. “I need you to secure the funds,” I told him. Tom understood the code, and he said that he would see to my request. Tom said that he had stumbled on an old friend during an incident in front of his hotel.

A long lost companion, Samuel, from the days of King Arthur, had returned from the past and had entered the body of a government agent on loan to the CIA. There was an incident that had involved some local militants that revolted against the current government. A CIA agent had been caught in the middle of some crossfire as he came out of an American Embassy.

Tom told me that he watched the gun battle from his hotel window. His golden prophetic stone was illuminated in a multicolor pattern, an action that made him aware that an act of transference had occurred nearby.

Police swarmed the street outside the hotel, and smoke and flame engulfed several vehicles. Tom, against the advice of the hotel manager, went outside in an attempt to spot any dead soul that seemed to regain its composure. He spotted a man who crawled out of the street. The body moved toward a massive statue of a lion for safety while bullets flew over his head from the militants.

For nearly an hour, the police restrained Tom from going into the streets, until they secured the rebels, but after several minutes, he was able to move past a curious crowd and get to the statue. He found Samuel collapsed against the granite and assisted him in walking to the hotel. Sam could walk, but with a severe limp. Sam was taken to a local hospital for his injuries, although the doctors were surprised that he was still alive.

Tom told me on the phone that he first had to check on his friend Sam. Then he would make sure everything was secured or relocated, in regards to the basement and cave. I gave him the combination of the safe in code, just in case my phone line was bugged.

When I think about the events and how they unfolded, I cannot help but think that there was a guiding hand in all of it. I had not been a spiritualist, or a believer in the Christian sense of the word. I was not an atheist, but neither was I fully convinced that there was a Living Spirit, or even a Garden of Eden. The whole tale seemed ludicrous to me. I did not believe in a heaven or a hell. I was a scientist after all.

What I believed in was the power of the stones. I did not know their origins. Perhaps they came from an alien race that once visited this planet populated by humans and other animals. Maybe these ancient people enslaved the early savages, and then legends were invented to explain their existence.