Prologue

Light flickered on and off of Holden's face, cracking through the curtain as a gentle breeze softly rustled it. He stretched in his bed, the air was cool, but for how early it was Holden figured it would be a hot day outside.

“Good morning handsome,” came Jen’s familiar voice.

“Good morning,” Holden managed to say through the stretch. He smiled and looked over at his wife. She swept into the room, a summer dress stretched across her skin on the top, and flowing loosely on the bottom. She had given birth to two baby boys and still had the figure of a much younger woman. “You didn’t have to let me sleep in babe,” he said, trying to put as much gratitude into his voice as he could.

“You worked late last night,” she said smiling. The way she looked at him made him feel like everything would be alright.

“Bacon for breakfast?” he asked.

“No, sunshine breakfast,” she said. “The boys already ate and are outside playing, you just have to get up and eat sleepy head.”

“Are you going to eat with me?” Holden asked.

“No, I ate with the boys. I’ve got book club,” she said with another smile. A tinge of pain shot through Holdens chest.

“Still with book club?” he asked. He knew it wasn’t true, and she knew he knew. But neither of them ever said anything. The proverbial elephant in the room, and Holden knew he wouldn’t ever do anything about it. He couldn’t. She healed him. Even now, knowing what she was going to do, he could feel her comfort around him.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a long one too. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said.

“Skip it,” Holden pleaded. “Let’s have a day with just us. You. Me. The boys.”

“I can’t,” she said, frowning. She looked genuine, but he couldn’t help but wonder. “I’m leading the discussion.”

He felt sick. “Alright, well. If I can’t get you to stay, then you might as well leave now.”

“I love you,” she said, leaning in and giving his forehead a gentle kiss. She smelled sweet; it reminded him of summer time and candy. He knew she loved him, but her “book club” still hurt. She left. Her scent slowly faded, leaving Holden alone with the smell of breakfast.

He layed in bed for a few moments more, waiting until he heard the sound of the door shutting behind her. One big stretch later, Holden got out of the bed. He got dressed quickly and went into the kitchen. He saw the sunshine breakfast steaming on the stove. He dished himself up a generous portion and sat at the small table. Hash Browns, eggs, bacon, salt, pepper and a large dose of cheese. All mixed together it created the perfect breakfast. Holden tried to distract himself from book club and began to plan his day. He’d do the dishes, then go out and trim the grass and trees. After that he’d have the boys practice with the staves their grandfather had helped them make.

He poured ketchup over half his plate of food, and then began to eat. He didn’t know why he poured the ketchup. It was better without it, but as a kid he had it with ketchup and it made him feel younger. He took a bite of the ketchup half, then a bite from the normal. Yep, ketchup wasn’t as good. He ate that side first, saving the best for the last. He savored the food, it was his favorite after all. Once he was done, he cleared his place then washed the dishes. He found is mind drawn back to his wife and the book club. He wanted to burn it down, but didn’t know how. He slammed his fists on the counter in frustration. He couldn’t confront her; he was too much of a coward, but maybe he could confront the book club. He knew who was in the “club.” A two person club comprised of…

“Dad,” came the voice of a small child. “When mom gets home can we build a fire and roast smores?” Holden looked over at his son. He was wearing overall shorts with a red shirt. The boy was carrying his staff his grandfather had helped him make. It was taller than the child; “built to grow into” the old man would say.

“Of course Fin,” Holden said, forcing a smile. “As long as she is back before your bed-time.” Another sharp pain stabbed his chest. He clenched his hands to stop the shaking when it happened. He shut his eyes, and vertigo threatened to overtake him. He opened his eyes and looked up, the room glowed with an opaque light. Fin was talking, but Holden couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“Fin, go outside,” he growled. “Dammit not again,” he added under his breath.

Light broke through every surface; Fins' face cracked away as light exploded from the boy. The cupboards and walls; the floor and ceiling, all erupted with light. Holden was left standing on something, but when he looked down there was nothing but space beneath his feet. Not blank space, but outer space. He was in space! He looked around, there were stars, planets, vast galaxies as far as he could see. Light flashed and he could see men, shining and golden. Were they gods? They sat in a circle, one stood among them in shackles. One of the men sat on a golden throne. He pointed at the feet of the man who was bound. The ground beneath him opened with darkness, and he fell from them into an endless abyss.

The scene shot away from him, and a new scene shot forward in its place. Children were playing tag in long, soft grass. Brilliant light exploded above the children and a shining man fell from it. It wasn’t the golden man; it was a black man who seemed to glow. He fell with a thud and didn’t rise. The children ran, screaming for their parents.

That scene vanished and another new one appeared. He could see a man with a collared grey overcoat. He had a button up white shirt and tie underneath. The shirt's top button was undone, and the tie was thin, loose, and black. The man looked at Holden.

“You!” the man roared! “Get out!”

Holden rushed backward at unthinkable speeds. The stars around him turned into streaks of white as he flew past them. He landed hard on the floor in a room lit by blood red light. He was back in the cabin. He pulled his knees to his chest. This had to be his monsters, his delusions. Where were his boys?

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“Get out Fin!” he bellowed. He had to get the boy out while he could. The patter of footsteps set him somewhat at ease as the interior of the cabin darkened. Jen knew better than to leave him alone with the boys. What was she thinking? Leaving to get her fix with another man? Endangering their kids?

“Gully!” Holden roared. “Grandpa! Call Grandpa!” Sweat dripped into his eyes, heart pounding loudly in his ears. He was losing control again. “Grandpa!” he screamed, his voice getting high with fear. The room fell silent and drew to a pitch black. He stood quietly, holding his breath. Then, on the floor in front of him, a light shone. It revealed foot prints; he bent down and touched one, it was wet. He tasted it. “Blood,” he breathed.

He ran after the footprints, was he too late? Was Fin hurt? He looked up and at the end of a long hall that most certainly wasn’t in his home, a man was holding Finnigan up by one leg. The man dropped Finnigan onto his head with a bone crushing crack. Holden charged, but someone else tripped him to the ground.

He turned and saw another man, strong, tall and handsome. The man's eyes though, they looked haunted, as though hiding all the pain in the world. Holden knew this man, he had seen him before.

Holden stood, balled up his fist and swung it right into the man's face, sending him reeling. He jumped on the man and kept hitting. The man curled into a ball and remained silent.

Holden wasn’t a strong man. In fact, he was considered weak by most. But this man he now attacked didn’t seem to possess any of the physical strength his stature suggested. After a short while the man laid still on the ground. Holden was winded; it didn’t take much to do that. The room kept spinning as his concentration wavered. He could hear the whimper of a small child. Finnigan!

He looked back down at the man on the ground and the world shifted again. It was Gully, curled into a ball with a bottle of Holden’s own apple cider leaking from the open top.

“No,” Holden breathed. He had done it again. “Gully, I’m so sorry.” He took the bottle, breaking his fingernail on the floor as he clumsily grabbed it. A little more sloshed from the top, dripping down his arm. He drank a good third of the bottle before coming up for air. He dropped it and the bottle clanged off the floor before Holden fell to his knees, then back onto his rear end. He pulled his knees into his chest and waited; waited for the alcohol to work its magic. After some time, his vision began to warp and change. The alcohol pushed the hallucinations from his mind. He had to get up and look for his boys, but was afraid of what he might find. He steeled himself, then stood.

He could hear Finnigan crying from the other room; he sounded scared, not hurt. This room was in disarray, his fight with the intruder had seen to that. A small shoe attached to a leg poked out from behind the table.

“Gully,” Holden gasped. He rushed forward and flipped the table away from his boy. Gull was breathing heavily as a small amount of blood pooled on the floor from his mouth. His eyes rolled to Holden then widened with fear. “It’s okay my baby boy.” He sat by Gully and lifted the child into his lap. Gully began to sob, his face was bruised; hand marks marred his arms, and the boy was shaking.

“Dad,” he cried. “Are the monsters gone?”

“They’re gone Gully,” Holden sobbed as tears burned his eyes. “They’re gone.” The poor child, he shouldn’t have to face Holdens monsters. Neither of them should. He held his weeping boy, he didn’t know how long he held him, but they stayed there for quite some time.

The door to their small home burst open and in came an old, grizzled looking man with a walking staff.

“Dad, over here,” Holden said. The old man strode to Holden and Gully, knelt down, and pulled them in close.

“Where is Jen?” the old man growled. Holden felt a tightening in his chest that hadn’t been there before.

“Book club,” he said. If she had been here, this wouldn’t have happened. He never saw the hallucinations when she was around. And she was off, fucking another man.

“Son, I know I don’t say this much, but I love you. It’s important you know that,” his father said. “I’m taking the boys. One way or another. You can’t help yourself, and your wife only cares about herself. You could have killed him. If you won’t stand up for you and the boys, I will.”

“No,” Holden said. Gully took a deep breath on his chest; the boy had fallen asleep. “I’ll end it. Can you watch the boys? I don’t know when I’ll be back, but their school is tomorrow, and I doubt I’ll be back before bed.”

“You know it’ll turn into a fight?” his father asked.

“No, I”ll just tell them it’s over. She isn’t welcome here,” Holden said.

“Be careful, she isn’t what you think,” the old man said.

“She is good dad, just too big hearted to love just one person,” Holden said.

“But she still left you alone with the boys to get her fix knowing full well what you could do!” the man barked. “This is the line in the sand. I live here now. You can too, but not her.”

“Dad, this is our home,” Holden said.

“I still own it, now go, do what’s right for your boys.”

Holden stood outside his partner’s cabin. It was a vacation home that even his partner's wife didn’t know about. The two men had been using it as a headquarters while they conducted their investigation. The lion's share of their careers had been spent attempting to track down The Courtier, and this place was their den of information. They also had a supply of magical artifacts here which included: a paladin sword, a crown of thorns, and trimmings from Merlin's beard. Some people thought they were crazy, but they knew more than most folks; though isn’t that what all crazy people said?

This cabin was also where book club was held. He steeled himself then walked toward the door. It burst open and out stumbled his partner. He was naked, eyes wide and wild. It wasn’t extacy, it was fear. He looked up, like he could see something in the sky. Holden followed his gaze, but there was nothing there, just a blue sky.

“Rand, where is Jen?” Holden demanded.

Rand looked at Holden, his eyes focused on him. “Holden, I’m sorry, he...Holden!” Rand's eyes widened and stared at Holdens chest.

“Are you on drugs?” Holden asked. Rand reached forward, as though his hand could cross the ten or so feet between the two men. A searing in Holden’s chest dropped him to his knees.

“I”ll get it out!” Rand cried. “I’ll get it out!”

“Stop!” Holden tried to scream, but no sound escaped. He was lifted to his feet, then off of them completely. He clutched his chest, then his hands exploded with agony. He looked at Rand, who had both hands outstretched toward Holden. Rands fingers ignited with some bright... was it liquid? Was it light?

He looked at his own chest and saw the liquid light bursting from him. What was Rand doing? Holden looked up, and saw that it was everywhere now, in Rand, all around the trees, all through, well, everything.

“Rand, you’ll kill us both!” Holden yelled. Holden's chest began to sear again. He screamed.

The liquid light burned Rands hands and arms; Rand screamed as well and dropped to a knee. His face was burning, hair melting away. Rand reached aggressively to Holden then collapsed.

Holden let out one last cry as something burst from his chest, from all of him. The pieces of him spread across the ground in a thick blanket of scarlet and only the echo of his scream remained.