The Guardian's Wildchild

title page

The Guardian’s Wildchild

Feather Stone

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Omnific Publishing

Dallas

Copyright Information

The Guardian’s Wildchild, Copyright © 2011 by Feather Stone

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

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Omnific Publishing

P.O. Box 793871, Dallas, TX 75379

www.omnificpublishing.com

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First Omnific eBook edition, September 2011

First Omnific trade paperback edition, September 2011

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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

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Stone, Feather.

The Guardian’s Wild Child / Feather Stone — 1st ed.

ISBN 978-1-936305-89-6

1. Paranormal — Romance. 2. Mysticism — Fiction.
3. Romance — Fiction. 4. Action Adventure — Fiction.

I. Title

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Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Browkaw

Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

Dedication

This story is dedicated to Scotty, a Shetland Sheepdog who came into my life in February of 1994. He quite simply and thoroughly changed my life. Through his need for healing of physical and emotional pain, I found ways of healing myself beyond conventional means. Through Scotty I learned more about unconditional love and the higher good during the past thirteen years than I had in my previous sixty something years. Scotty propelled me forward to discover I had a power that most would not dare to acknowledge.

Prologue

Year 2020

The year 2020 was one long, terrifying nightmare. The planet trembled violently for months as if desperately trying to shed its skin. Land masses fell into the oceans or were consumed by the water’s thirst for new territory. Tsunamis followed the Earth’s devastating quakes, swallowing great ships and sweeping shorelines, sucking debris and bodies into oblivion. In one year, the world’s maps became as useless as the rudimentary drawings of ancient explorers.

Governments worldwide activated martial law. Extreme measures were deemed necessary to maintain law and order. There was zero tolerance for anyone threatening the stability of the social order and security of the United States of America. Those arrested were quickly tried and given a life sentence. Over the next twenty years, rigid controls were somewhat relaxed, but not to the satisfaction of many. Protests fell on deaf ears.

Underground rebellion movements became lethal. Intolerant of the continued harsh controls and closed-door leadership, they aimed to destroy governments. Highways were no longer safe for government officials — many were hijacked, executed, and dumped by the roadside.

The government began to implement new tactics. Prisoners convicted of terrorism disappeared without a trace. Within twenty-four hours of arrest, they were quietly tried, then disappeared. No record, no witnesses, no media to voice the underground’s grievances, no chance of a hearing, no escape. There was no acknowledgement that terrorist activity had occurred. Fear escalated among the followers of the underground. Their morale dropped, along with the frequency of their activities.

Admiral Garland followed government policy to the letter, and took advantage of the hold he had over Sam Waterhouse, Captain of the USS
Nonnah
, a naval supply ship. Prisoners were executed on the
Nonnah
, well away from the public view. Blood was never spilled on the admiral’s New Seattle Naval Base. To the outside world, his base’s security had never been breached. No one would ever discover his secret.

1. The Guardians

Year 2028

The winter of 2028 arrived early on Hawk’s Island. The Stone Clan was long accustomed to the temperamental nature of their island, located a mere twenty miles west of Vancouver Island. They had arrived thousands of years ago during their escape from certain genocide, one of a dozen similar clans fleeing from autocratic leaders who feared the Guardians’ challenge to their supreme authority if they were allowed to remain among the people. When the Guardian clans fled, they found refuge in seclusion and carefully concealed their locations across the planet. Hawk’s Island had never appeared on maps, and only those who sought the higher good in their deeds and thoughts would see its magnificent towering cliffs and lush, boreal forests. Resources were few, but the fresh water and grazing meadows would provide their sustenance — along with some help from their powerful sun crystals.

Wind moaned outside the Guardian Elders’ meditation lodge. In the summer, two window openings would let in the sun and songs of birds from the surrounding forest. But today, shutters sealed the openings, protecting the eight Elders from the drifting snow. Inside, they prepared for another day of meditation.

Greystone, the youngest of the Elders, gathered his wool blanket around his shoulders and up over this head. Even though the blue threads had lost their lustre and the edges were badly frayed, he considered it a treasure. It was all that remained from his past when, lost at sea five hundred years ago, he’d been rescued by the Guardians. His long, dark brown hair was braided behind his ears and lay on his rust-colored, wool shirt. In spite of his great age, he appeared no more than thirty, his stature tall and robust. Merging with the Guardian sacred truths had slowed his ageing nearly to a standstill.

He sat down on another blanket on the lodge’s worn wooden floor. For hundreds of years, he and his fellow Elders had meditated daily while seated on this floor. It had absorbed their murmurs, heard their calls to their spirit guides, and echoed their joy. The meditation room was small and spare. Candles, a kettle, and a teapot rested on a table.

There were enough cups for each of the Elders plus a few more, though many were often missing. Some cups could be found beside computers in the children’s classroom, others in the fifteen cabins where the Guardians performed their artistic talents, creating their legendary paintings and sculptures. All of these were sold on the continents and provided financial support to maintain the community and its helicopter. The missing cups were a minor irritant, especially for Livingstone, the newest Elder, who was now searching for his favorite.

Gazing into the small fire in the center of the room, Greystone searched for its comforting warmth. It wasn’t the chill in the air from which he was seeking refuge. His heart was deeply touched by the coldness of the times. His power of clairvoyance allowed him to witness all that took place on the planet.

He saw people searching for clean water. Medicine was scarce. Poorer coastal countries resorted to piracy in order to acquire scarce resources. Greystone watched the United States claw its way back from the overwhelming loss of land and naval strength during the Great Quake of 2020. Nearly 350 million people had been confirmed dead and another 50 million people were missing. Countless resources had been lost worldwide. Recently, martial law had eased, though only somewhat. The search for answers to the energy crisis had been replaced by the frantic efforts to rebuild lost cities and replace submerged farmland.

Even so, the common citizens continued to raise their families, work in their offices and construction sites, find joy in their sand dune playgrounds, sail their ships, and hold on to their vision of a new order of humanity. Away from the madness in government halls and military bases, there was an underlying current of calm. Greystone heard people question their leaders’ motives. “Will the higher good be served?” they often asked.

He saw a dark future for the planet Earth. Traveling forward in time, Greystone stood on a lifeless plain with no clouds, no wind or sun. He saw a planet void of light and sound. Greystone’s vision revealed that hope rested on the shoulders of his ten-year-old student, Sidney Davenport.

His fellow Elders, dressed in their simple cotton and wool clothes, sat with him in a circle around the fire — a focal point for their meditation. Birthstone was believed to be the eldest. Greystone thought she appeared to be Light itself with her bright blue eyes; her long white hair, braided and wrapped like a crown on her head; her fair and smooth complexion; small, gentle hands; and soft calming voice. Sometimes he found himself gazing at her, transfixed by her beauty.

Taking their customary seats in the room, the Elders spoke the spiritual truths of the Guardians in unison.

“Our path’s burden is equal to our strength. We won’t suffer failure if we remember the Creator’s love is the source of our power. If we seek the Light and Truth, the higher good will be served. Our actions and thoughts are energies that return to us tenfold in the same manner as we delivered them into the universe. As you believe, so shall it be. We are one. We are eternal.”

Livingstone and Lightstone began to beat their drums at a rhythmic tempo. Pockets of Guardian Elders around the planet joined in with the chant, “Let our Light be seen. Let our Light be received. Let our Light be healing. Let our Light be joyful. Let our Light be love.” Greystone heard the voice of Paulo, his mentor in Acapulco, and gave him a thumbs-up salute. For thirty minutes they continued until Birthstone raised her hands for the chanting to cease.

For the remainder of the morning, the Elders telepathically shared their thoughts as the fire cast dancing shadows onto the log walls. They sent universal life energy around Earth and to its people, giving powerful healing to all who were open to receiving their gift.

The air was filled with the warm, pungent smell of burning spruce and poplar in the fire pit. The branches sizzled and snapped. The meditation went on. Candles flickered. Hour after hour, the Elders held their trance, focused only on their task of urging all humanity to return to its Guardian heritage. They sent their spiritual messages to all, including the merciless souls orchestrating their destructive storm.