Chapter 1 -
“Rayne ran through the dark stone hall, the brilliant light of the Sword of Arkaus illuminating the paintings that surrounded him. He knew that somewhere in this castle, his sister was being held. He knew that somewhere in this castle, he would confront and kill his brother.
“The dark images on the wall showed Rayne memories of his past; memories best left forgotten, yet there they were. Prominently displayed for the world to see, but he couldn't stop now. There was only enough time for him to—”
“Samantha Weston.”
The voice startled Sam back to reality. She looked around her classroom, her face flushing with the realization that she had been reading out loud ... again. She was spared the full embarrassment, as when she looked up, the dismissal bell rang, and the students began rushing out the door.
She fumbled with her things, trying to pack up as quickly as she could, her mind berating her with criticisms and calling her names for spacing out at school. She left the building, unaware of anyone around her, and walked to her bus. As usual, she got there first and sat in the back.
As the other passengers took their seats, Sam was relieved that once again the seat next to her had been left open for her backpack. She recognized some of the faces from her class and avoided eye contact for fear that someone might bring it up.
Sam sat with her arms crossed, shifting her weight around in the seat. She struggled to control her breathing as the bus drove through town. Each bump in the road reset her counting, the continuous struggle to remain in control of her anxiety. She could feel people’s eyes on her but refused to meet them with her own. The world had seemed to collapse into a narrow band of her vision, and she fought to keep even that open.
The sudden lurch of the bus forced her to look around and quickly realize she was at her stop. Sam jumped out of her seat and rushed for the door, only briefing taking in the other kids on her crowded bus. She jumped down the last stair, and as the door closed behind her, was thankful for the isolation. The scent of diesel exhaust in the air was a familiar comfort to her that heralded the end of the day.
The short walk from her stop to her house was a refreshing break, a time for reflection and analysis of her day’s events, though as she crossed the last road to hers, she felt an ominous shadow fall over her that seemed to feed the self-doubt in her mind. The pull towards the library was stronger today; she wanted to run and hide there for a few hours but knew it wouldn't fix anything.
Sam rounded her corner and took note of every car on the block. Mr. Jefferies had his daughter over again, it seemed his health was failing, and she came over more often. Ms. Lawry must still be at work as her car was never home this early. And, of course, her father was home. As much as she loved spending time with him, he had become very judgmental in recent months.
Walking through the door, Sam dropped her bag on the couch and walked into the kitchen to find her father.
“Hey, Dad, I'm home!” She smiled up at him as she walked through towards the basement stairs.
“Where are you going?” he asked sternly, shaking salt into whatever he was cooking.
“Just to put in a load of laundry for tomorrow.”
“Your teacher called me a moment ago,” he said, taking his new favorite apron off. Sam laughed; he seemed to have a new favorite apron every week.
“And what did she have to say this time?” Sam asked, stopping at the staircase.
“That you were reading in class again.”
“It's school, Dad. We're encouraged to read.” Sam rolled her eyes and started to turn back downstairs before her father caught her arm.
“Yes, but not during a lesson, and not when you're reading louder than your teacher is.” His expression indicated that he was serious. With a sigh, Sam shut the door downstairs and returned to the kitchen.
“It's not my fault, trigonometry bores me, and I get lost in the story!”
“Sam, you have to pay attention in class. And maybe make a friend or two so that all your thinking doesn't get wrapped up in these books?” His expression had softened at this point, but Sam was getting mad.
“I have friends, Dad, they just don't go to this school, and you don't know them,” she lied. “Besides, the other kids there just think I'm weird. They’re not what I would want in a friend.”
“You know, if you gave them a chance to get to know you, maybe they wouldn't think you were so weird. They only think that because you're always nose deep in a book and never pay any attention to real people.” Her father sat down at the table and motioned for her to join him.
“Real people are boring. I don't like them, and they don't like me!” She stormed down the stairs to the basement to do her laundry, furious with his insinuation that she had no friends. Despite the anger, she felt a tear well up in her eye. Must be her frustration, she thought.
“Sam, I didn't mean to hurt you, honey,” her father yelled down from the kitchen. “Come back up here, please?”
She ignored his plea and went back to folding laundry. She could make this last for over an hour if she took her time and went really slow.