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Gatekeepers Realm: Legacy Series Vol II
Gatekeepers Realm: Legacy Series Vol II
Gatekeepers Realm: Legacy Series Vol II
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Gatekeepers Realm: Legacy Series Vol II

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Any paranormal fan will enjoy...The talented author, Elena Dorothy Bowman, has created a world unlike any other with this tale and you will want to read the first book The House onthe Bluff also to enjoy the beginning of the experience. I'm pleased to recommend this book as something different in reading and definitely worth the time. Enjoy. I really did." —Anne K. Edwards

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 6, 2013
ISBN9781594314810
Gatekeepers Realm: Legacy Series Vol II

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    Book preview

    Gatekeepers Realm - Elena Dorothy Bowman

    Gatekeepers’s Realm

    Book II of the Legacy Series

    by

    Elena Dorothy Bowman

    Published by Write Words Inc. at Smashwords

    copyright 2006 Elena Dorothy Bowman

    Publishers Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

    All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Author or Publisher, excepting brief quotes to be used in reviews.

    WARNING: Making copies or distributing this file, either on disk, CD, or over the Internet is a Federal Offense under the U.S. Copyright Act, and a violation of several International Trade Agreements.

    Dedication

    To my Grandmother and Great-Grandmother who brought their love and beliefs with them to the New World to pass on to future generations.

    And, as always, to my beloved husband Jim, to our children and granddaughter,and to our beloved families.

    "May the Good Lord stand between you and harm And all the empty placed you must walk."

    An old Egyptian Blessing

    Prologue

    In a White Stone Abbey situated in a dense forest a scroll, which held the secret to the present Pierce House, lay hidden in a chamber behind an altar protected, down through the ages until the18th Century, by brown-robed monks. The papyrus enclosed in a white leather hand-bound sheath emblazoned with a Crest and a Cross, had been consecrated and sealed with a Royal Imprint.

    Sometime during the 18th Century those who feared God, nor man, plundered the Abbey. The case was stolen, the scroll removed, and the seal broken. On the hand-printed, quill-scripted parchment were words that foretold the future of a dwelling, its surrounding properties and, through generations, its final location. Granted by Divine Decree to a mortally wounded Noble Knight and to all his descendants in perpetuity, this Royal Boon was awarded in tribute for his sacrifice in the service of God and King.

    The bequest, and all it contained, passed from one generation to another. With the seal of both a reigning King and an Archbishop’s blessing, along with the request of the Royal Knight’s descendants, the Royal Grant was eventually transferred to consecrated ground in a distant land across the seas.

    When the Nobleman’s descendants left England for the Colonies, they took with them a small bronze cask containing a relic of the Noble Knight. To lay claim to the consecrated land forever, the Relic was to be buried within the foundation of their home in the new land—its final resting place.

    The papyrus wound its way to America and into the hands of vandals. From the map markings, meridians and celestial navigational notations inscribed within the scroll, these raiders were able to discover the location of the grant and set out to find it. Word reached them about the priceless articles that were purchased over time, to furnish the now existing dwelling, and of the tragic death at sea of the most recent of its long line of owners. This spurred them on. It was their intention, then, to use the sacred document as a means of obtaining possession of the property and all within it.

    Since the residence was built on an isolated bluff above the bay, a sailing ship could easily slip its way up the cove away from prying eyes, and pillage the place. In order for these marauders to keep their dastardly and diabolical act secret, any vessel, along with its crew, entering the harbor, would surreptitiously vanish. It didn’t take long before the inlet became known as the Bay of Death and, from the 18th Century to the present, no one dared sail nor moor their boats in the beautiful blue pristine sound.

    With the bay secured, the buccaneers launched a full-scale assault on the house on the bluff. With visions of riches clouding their minds, they invaded and ransacked indiscriminately. But, to their complete horror, the house fought back. It restored everything to its untarnished condition, at the same time, assimilating the transgressors within its confines, while the sailing ship, anchored in the bay, slipped quietly beneath the sea, taking with it the sacred papyrus stolen from the White Stone Abbey.

    Only the Holy Knight’s descendants, however remote, connected with, and in-line to, the prophecy could claim ownership of the property and all it contained, by right of succession. Any violation or attempted usurpation of the sacred bequest or authority, whether intentional or accidental, would only bring misery and gloom to its perpetrators and, as punishment, doom such brigands to spend an eternity as non-entities within the confines of the estate for violating the edict of the God-centered prophesy.

    The energetic memory that encompassed the dwelling and its surrounding area was in tune with those not yet born, whose own vibrational energy stemmed from the passing down through the ages. To ensure the authenticity of the true line, it was ordained that the descendent who opted to claim ownership must remain in the house alone, enduring whatever precarious events occurred until such time as the house permitted the intrusion of others—a champion, but especially a Consort. Failure to adhere to the doctrine would negate that descendant’s right of ownership forever and could, instead, claim that person for its own as it would with any interloper.

    Of the two, only the true Consort’s vibrational energy, passed down through time, would be in-line with, and connected to, the prophesy, as well as the vibrational energy of the house, and to its future occupant. And, it was the Consort who would be the vessel necessary to ensure the prophecy’s manifesto coming to fruition.

    According to the Legacy, the entire estate would be within an extremely strong, eternal, energy vortex. Since we are all energy and the energy of that vortex is timeless, nothing within it ages as we perceive aging to be. As a living entity, it would bring forth a time-capsule of History, as well as forming visions of people, places, and things that did not exist, to thwart those who might become too curious or those whose intentions were ominous, to intimidate a descendent who didn’t have the stamina to withstand the onslaught manifested by the house itself, or one whose only purpose was to plunder. Since, in reality, time and space have no meaning, but simply are, all things are possible.

    To the day Abigail entered her ancestral home, with its promise of fulfillment, it maintained its enchantment and its ageless elegance, standing as a silent sentinel waiting for the one long destined to enter along with her Consort, to claim ownership. At that moment in time, the papyrus would physically appear as a sign and a blessing to the rightful heirs.

    Having fulfilled the prophecy Abigail and her consort, Ethan, were now the true owners of The House On The Bluff. But still something was not quite right. The final conflict between the old and the new was just about to start—and no one was sure of where it would all end.

    Chapter 1

    Pacing back and forth on the Widow’s Walk overlooking the bay and the vast ocean beyond it, Abigail nervously awaited the arrival of her first guests. They were coming by boat—Ethan’s boat. Ethan and Tony Harridan, the town’s sheriff, a sometimes-permanent resident of the infamous Inn when he wasn’t working at his job on the mainland, met their first adventurers at the dock in Caleb’s Cove. Once the group had gathered, they were to board the Abigail for a sightseeing cruise along the coastline and the sea-lanes between the various islands to the Inn on Adam’s Point—all part of the package.

    Knowing it would add an air of mystery to the Inn, formerly known as the foreboding Pierce House, Abigail and Ethan set the stage for their guests by having them approach the house overlooking the bay in a modern day, state-of-the-art, two-masted schooner. It was up to Ethan and Tony to mesmerize them with tales of Abigail’s and their own ominous beginnings in the house, and how the Inn came to be. The stories included: the relic of the Royal Knight, the significance of the special Land Grant displayed in a frame on the wall, the haunting strains emanating from an elusive Stradivarius, and the legend surrounding Adam’s Point. And, of course, there was the possibility of becoming entangled in a web the Inn might weave. Ethan brushed over the fact that he was the first person who dared sail into the Bay of Death alone. And announced that the guests now had the honor of being the first full ship’s complement to break the curse on the bay leading up to the old Pierce House, now officially known as The House On The Bluff.

    * * *

    Abigail smiled inwardly wishing she could see the looks on their faces while held in the grip of the stories. She was afraid her first guests might take one look at the place, even though it was all the publicity said it was, bolt and change their minds once the Abigail dropped anchor. Then Ethan and Tony would have to turn around and take them back to Caleb’s Cove, and she would be alone again on Adam’s Point. Well, not really.

    The brochure assured those who sought a new and different vacation that they would not be disappointed. It trumpeted a vacation hideaway that had no electricity, no running water, pumps only, no central heating system, no phones and no television. It also boasted of fabulously appointed rooms, fireplaces, breathtaking ocean views, swimming, underwater caves, sailing, and a touch of suspense and intrigue.

    The beautiful crystal clear bay had a special attraction. For centuries, it was noted, no ships, sail or otherwise, had ventured upon the waters leading to the House On The Bluff, due to the nefarious blot upon it. Since the time of the pirates, the sound had been known as the Bay of Death, not only for the ships who were ensnared within but also for those who sailed aboard them. Now, however, any brave soul who cared to dive beneath the sea, properly attired in protective gear, could take the time to wander among the wreckage of the ships that lay scattered on the bottom of the bay. Ships that had in times past attempted to sail into its waters—that is, if one had a mind to venture forth—at their own peril.

    * * *

    Abigail wondered if anyone would want to leave after the first night’s stay. Well, there’s no point in worrying about that now, she thought. She brightened when she saw the top of the sail on the Abigail approaching the bend and heading for the bay. As the schooner turned into the cove, unexpectedly a feeling of nervousness overwhelmed her. This was her first attempt at running an Inn. Although everything was pristine, all her supplies and equipment, flashlights and lamps, water basins and towels, bed-sheets, blankets and bedspreads were new and ready, she felt a twinge of misgiving.

    A year had passed since she first stepped foot onto the property on Adam’s Point known as the Pierce House. Many times during her long trial she wondered if she would survive the tests she had been subjected to in order to assume ownership of the House On The Bluff. It had been vacant for more than a century, since no other member of the family actually attempted to claim the estate. During that period in time she had met, fallen in love with, and married Ethan. Tony, by their side from the beginning, a true and trusted friend, was best man. She often wondered what she would have done if Tony hadn’t made it a point to be there for her while Ethan was on the mainland attending to business. And then, of course, there was Jacob. Jacob, as far as anyone could tell, was the oldest member of the community. He had decided after years of mental torment, both in his sleepless and watchful state, by the disembodied permanent residents of the Pierce House that it was long past time he joined them, and with open arms happily entered their realm.

    It was Ethan who had suggested and put into practice the changes Abigail wished for, to transform the House into an Inn. The live-in apparitions made it known when they didn’t like a particular modification and, therefore, it was not done. Ethan had signed the contracts with all the workmen, then left the details up to Abigail. But unknown to Ethan, Jacob, now the apparitions’ Ambassador to the living, had a major role in making the decisions, and many changes were quashed due to the apparitions’ objections. They had been there, most of them, for centuries, and liked things the way they were.

    Abigail wasn’t sure how they would react to guests at the Inn. Jacob said it would depend. When she asked him what he meant, his cryptic answer was that the Others may have a different opinion about strangers in their house, and could get quite obnoxious about it. She would just have to wait and see.

    She looked around. No one was there. Not Jacob, not the Pirates, the Redcoats, the Colonial Soldiers, the Vikings or any of her permanent spirits. She laughed nervously. What am I worried about? Ethan is coming in with an entire ship’s company of guests. Maybe Jacob and the Others are going to let my visitors relax first before they start.

    She saw the ship getting closer. No time now to procrastinate. She rushed from the Widow’s Walk down to the first floor, through the house and out the back door. Then moving quickly she hurried along the long, narrow, dirt path, leading down the hill to the newly completed boat slip, behind the Inn, to greet her group. Smile, she told herself, and look relaxed. Don’t let them scare you. What if Jacob and the Others won’t cooperate and nothing happens? Will they demand a refund? I can’t refund their money. I already spent it all on the house and stuff. Stop it! There’s nothing to be worried about. Everything will turn out just the way it’s supposed to. Then again, what if Jacob and the Others…she let her thoughts trail off, and shook her head. Stop rambling, she admonished. Get ready. Here they come.

    * * *

    The first guests off the boat smiled eagerly at Abigail as she reached for their hands, and then their smiles froze. Abigail hurriedly checked to be sure she was properly attired, then with a quizzical look cocked her head as if to ask, "What?"

    She shot a look at Ethan. He and Tony had dropped the bags they were carrying and, mouths open, stared beyond her. No one moved—no one dared to. Abigail, her attention on Ethan, turned and gasped as she, too, stared at the shapeless apparition hovering over the Inn.

    Abigail was the first to regain her composure. Good Lord, she whispered to Ethan, still watching the manifestation. "Couldn’t Jacob and the Others have waited until the guests were settled?"

    Captivated by the apparition Ethan whispered back, "I don’t think Jacob or the Others have anything to do with this."

    Me, neither, Tony quietly added, transfixed.

    Everyone watched the wraith oscillating above the Inn, which seemed to grow and blot out the sun, then shrink to a tiny glob. They were spellbound, immobile in its grip, and fascinated by its movements.

    Who is it? Lorenzo Puccini asked, his voice shaking.

    We don’t know, Ethan said. We’ve never seen it before.

    Maybe it’s trying to tell us something, his wife, Sabrina, offered as she kept her eyes fixed on the specter.

    Does anyone want to leave? Ethan asked, tentatively.

    Sabrina spun around. With her thoughts clearly expressed on her face and the widest grin she could muster exclaimed, "Do you really think I’d leave now? No way! I don’t know whether you planned this or not, but

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