Cleon Carnegie Novel
Sixteen-year-old Phil is new to Hills View High School in Tahoe. He has no recollection of the mysterious event of thirteen years ago. But the destiny that has awaited him since birth takes him down a dangerous path to unravel the mystery surrounding his friend's death and his father's disappearance. It is a path that will place him face-to-face with powerful masters of manipulation who are also longtime enemies of his ancestors. The consequences are incalculable, and goes far beyond his world. Not many can be trusted.
To survive and save the ones he loves, Phil must come to terms with the true nature of his being and master the boundless powers of the sacred emblem.
"Nothing is lost--when it becomes consistent, it becomes the way.”
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
“You have to talk to her. She’s your mom, you cannot handle this alone.”
“But what if the threats are real…? I could be putting her in danger. I can’t have that…”
Zoe leaned towards him, rested her hand on his wrist, “She could be in more danger if you don’t tell her…”
That evening at home, Phil popped open a bag of chips from the cupboard in the kitchen. He poured juice into a glass and sat at the counter on a ceramic, cream and black stool. The chips were done in no time, he reached for another, poured more juice. Took some more gulps.
“Hey, kiddo…” Gloria said, shuffling Phil’s hair after putting a brown paper bag with veggies on the counter.
“Been meaning to talk to you about something, mom.”
Gloria leaned against the counter. “I’m all ears…” seemed she was about to take her notepad out, things like those happened after twenty years as a journalist. But she wasn’t used to doing it in her own house, not with her only child. The thought flashed from her mind.
“I found something, mom…”
“What is it…?”
Gloria’s cellphone rang, she retrieved it, a muttering voice was on the line, “Um, let me call you back on this…” She hung up and leaned against the counter again. “Go on, Phil.”
“It’s something like a gadget, it sparkled bright when I first found it… maybe once again, now I can’t get anything from it.”
“Where did you find it?”
“At school, in the yard. Then there was this dream… like evil people are trying to get—"
“Where is this thing?"
“In my room, in the drawer.”
“Jesus…” Gloria held her temple. “And you said nothing? What’s wrong with you, Phil? I warned you about finding stuff and taking them home… look at me. You have to take it back. Dr Patio said it. Delusions are possible.”
She rested her hand on Phil’s shoulder after calming down, “You’ve been doing so well. You can’t go back now. You know what…? I’ll get another appointment in. In the meantime, stay clear of things you find on the streets… you hear me, Phil…?”
Phil felt a huge load lifted off of his shoulders. In one sense, Gloria’s reaction stopped him from saying anything more. But in another sense he felt assured he was only seeing things. Nothing he was seeing was real. And the dream too was a hoax, a game on his mind.
The talk drifted into what to cook for dinner; baked chicken, veggies and mashed potato were agreed upon.
Gloria started dinner as soon as Phil left for his room. She paused for a moment, looked away through the kitchen window. There was a look in her eyes. Thirteen years was a long time, and only certain things one can recall so vividly after such a time. She had pushed it far back in her memory, locked it behind a metal door with many locks that were beginning to rust. But now, what Phil had just told her had shattered them all and sent the door swinging. And there, she saw him again, the three-year-old boy she couldn’t believe was her son.