The Diamond of Freedom Read online

  He hands the pocket watch back to me and leads us down to the basement. I am blown away by the size of this guy’s collection. On the back wall is an assortment of arrowheads mounted on a black background, each labeled with its approximate age and the place where it was recovered. The adjacent wall has shelving units with narrow drawers divided into small compartments. Uncle Don pulls out a couple of drawers and sets them on the table in the center of the room for us to look at.

  “Obsidian is unique to its location. Each lava flow contains different levels of iron and magnesium which produce the varying colors and designs of each bed of rock, making it possible for geologists to trace the origins of each piece of obsidian with considerable accuracy.”

  Chris asks, “Uncle Don, are you saying our stone could be traced to the actual volcano it originated from?”

  “Weren’t you listening, boy?” Don shakes his head. “Each lava flow that results in the creation of obsidian is an individual, unique occurrence, and yes, your piece of obsidian can be traced to its point of origin through x-ray fluorescence—provided the piece matches a sample that has been registered already.”

  I ask Uncle Don, “Can you do that here, or do you have to take your samples to a lab?”

  “I wish I could. I take my samples to Idaho State University to get them tested.”

  “Wow, Idaho is a long way from Miami.”

  “Yes, but always worth the trip, young lady.”

  I wander around the room with the open pocket watch in my hand, comparing the color of the obsidian in the watch to the arrowheads on the wall and the samples displayed in divided boxes on the table. I wonder if any of these pieces possess the same power-canceling effects as Freedom’s watch, but I can’t risk closing the watch to tell. Uncle Don has collected so many different varieties of obsidian: clear, striped, and snowflake-speckled specimens, as well as some with a multi-colored sheen, kind of like the rainbow puddles of water at a gas station.

  Even more amazing is the detailed cataloguing Uncle Don has done. He’s described the individual stones and documented the locations where the artifacts were found. He has many specimens from the western United States—mostly from Oregon and Idaho—and a few from Argentina, Chile, El Salvador, Guatemala, Peru, Greece, Italy, and Iceland.

  I glance across the room at Chris and Uncle Don, who are scrutinizing a handful of flint arrowheads. Uncle Don’s eyes closely resemble Chris’s. The similarity brings a smile to my face.

  An idea pops into my head.

  “Chris, could I talk to you for a sec?” I ask, interrupting their conversation. He walks over to me, and I whisper, “I want to try something. I’m going to step outside the room for a few minutes to see if your powers come back.”

  He nods, and I leave the room. I need to get at least twenty feet away from him and it may require leaving the house, so I decide to step outside onto the backyard patio.

  Uncle Don’s well-manicured yard is full of birdbaths and free-standing fountains, all adorned with colorful crystals reflecting in the sunlight. Off to the side of his home is a covered patio with a work station that contains all sorts of jewelry-making supplies and tools, even a diamond-cutting wheel for creating faceted stones. Uncle Don sure loves his rocks.

  The weather is beautiful and calm, with crystal-clear blue skies, a perfect Miami day. I think about the fact we now know the black stone is obsidian, and I pull the watch out of my pocket. I study the large stone carefully and look closely at the curved lines where the piece broke away from its larger source.

  I already knew obsidian breaks in a different way than other rocks or crystals, creating super sharp edges. I overheard a conversation between my parents a while back where dad told mom that scalpels with obsidian blades leave smaller, less-noticeable scars than steel scalpels because obsidian has such thin smooth edges. Even the sharpest surgical steel scalpels are jagged under a microscope. I doubt the information is relevant to the situation, but knowing more about obsidian adds to my growing knowledge. What I need to find out now is where this piece came from. What is its source, and how did Freedom come to find the obsidian before Maetha or any of the other Diamond Bearers?

  “Calli.” Chris comes out the patio door and stands next to me. He whispers, “My powers never returned. Uncle Don definitely has some of the same obsidian in that room, but unfortunately he has so many different samples, it will take a long time to figure out which one contains powers.”

  I think about it for a moment and say, “Let’s wait to see if he’ll volunteer up any information before we discuss it further. You said he doesn’t know about the cosmic powers . . . I think we better keep it that way.”

  Chris agrees with a nod. We go back inside the house and down to the basement where Uncle Don is busily organizing his rocks.

  Uncle Don continues to give us a tour of his displays. He has several other rooms dedicated to the different kinds of rocks, crystals, and gemstones he has collected over the years. He gives us an unsolicited rundown on the perceived powers of each stone.

  “Topaz is used to restore the sense of taste, stimulate the appetite, calm emotions, relieve tension, protect against injury or attack, and enhance psychic abilities.” He hands me a creamy yellowish crystal. “That’s a golden topaz. What I want to get my hands on is an Imperial topaz. It’s extremely valuable for a topaz.”

  I pass the stone to Chris as Don picks up the next stone. “This is quartz. It comes in many colors and is commonly used for healing the body. Amethyst creates a protective energy field around its wearer, assists in transmuting negative energies, and protects the wearer from external negative energies. Onyx helps us to hear and listen to our inner voice. It also assists in maintaining emotional balance, and it’s good for self-control and relieving stress.” He moves on to more bins, boxes, and drawers.

  “There certainly seem to be a lot of healing stones,” I say.

  “Correct. Bloodstone is another healing stone. It renews inner strength. The energies of Carnelian are invigorating and uplifting.” Uncle Don becomes increasingly excited as he continues the tour of his collection—his pride and joy, his life’s passion. I can’t help but think how ridiculous it is to think these rocks are able to do what he claims. To me they are all just pretty stones.

  Don says, “Would you two like some food? I was about to eat when you arrived.”

  Chris looks at me. I nod my head and he responds politely to his uncle, “Sure. But we can’t stay long.”

  Don dishes up two plates of barbecued pork and brings them to us on the patio. I enjoy the delicious food and listen to Chris and Don as they talk more about geology.

  During a lull in the conversation, I ask Don, “Do you really believe rocks and crystals have special powers?”

  “Absolutely.” He touches the leather cord around his neck and pulls it out so we can see his home-made necklace of small polished stones: yellow, black, and green. “See here? These are the stones that are lucky for my sign.” He touches the yellow stone. “Citrine brightens my mood and brings me wealth.” His fingers slide to the pale green stone. “Peridot creates a shield of protection around my body and deflects emotional intensity and the negativity projected by others. Then there’s obsidian to keep me grounded and protect me from the energy of others, and onyx to help me hear and listen to my inner voice.” He touches the two black stones.

  My eyes want to roll at these absurdities, but I remember what Maetha said to Brand at Cedar Point Amusement Park when she demonstrated her Seer ability: I find it fascinating, Brand, that you are so quick to reject the existence of superpowers when you yourself possess one. Surely, all those supposed powers or effects associated with crystals and rocks are nothing more than a placebo effect on the mind of the wearer, right? However, Uncle Don said obsidian protected him from others’ energies, and the obsidian in the watch certainly has a similar power, so how far off can Uncle Don be? I wonder what I would feel if I closed the pocket watch. Would I be able to detect anything s
pecial about these crystals?

  I need to use the little girls’ room, so I excuse myself and follow Don’s directions to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Don has decorated the room with oriental jade carvings of elephants and other creatures. I find the room extremely relaxing and feel like I’ve walked into another time and place.

  When I return, Chris has a perplexed expression on his face.

  As I sit down at the table, Uncle Don turns to me and says, “Calli, I’ve got fresh blackberry cobbler and ice cream. Would you like some?”

  “Yes, please. Sounds delicious.”

  Uncle Don heads into the kitchen, and Chris leans over to me and whispers, “My power didn’t return when you left the room. It should have, right? The bathroom is more than twenty feet away and the room downstairs with all the obsidian is more than far enough away. Maybe there’s more to this than we understand.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  A couple of minutes pass and then Uncle Don comes out of the kitchen and sets a bowl of cobbler and ice cream in front of me and one in front of Chris. “Here you go,” he says.

  As he leans over the table, my eyes are drawn to the necklace dangling out of his shirt. “Uncle Don, may I see your necklace for a moment?”

  He removes his necklace and hands it to me.

  I point to the black stone. “This stone here is obsidian, correct?” The piece is not quite as large as the large piece in the watch, but close.

  He nods in reply.

  “You said all obsidian can be traced back to its original location. Where is this one from?”

  A smile lights up his face. “That’s a special piece of obsidian, Calli. It comes from Obsidian Cliffs in Yellowstone National Park.”

  “Why is it special?” Chris asks.

  “Many years ago, I was at a rock show in Kansas when I saw an arrowhead from the Yellowstone outcropping. The vendor was only displaying his piece and wouldn’t even entertain a price for it . . . not even ten-thousand dollars. I was glad he turned me down because at that time I didn’t have ten-thousand dollars to back up my offer. His protective stance and unmovable determination to keep the arrowhead raised my curiosity, and I began searching for more samples. I wanted one of my own. What I discovered was there were many samples from the same location, but only some held the power I was looking for.

  “Obsidian is an absorber. Energy, both positive and negative, is absorbed into the stone, leaving a person powerless while they are near it. But Yellowstone obsidian is rumored to have even more incredible power-absorbing properties. Based on the hoops I had to jump through to get this piece, I believe it. I had to obtain a special permit to chip off a piece, and Park Rangers and military soldiers watched over my shoulder the whole time. In fact, the original piece I collected was broken down by the authorities to this smaller piece.”

  I glance over at Chris, wondering if he had picked up on what his uncle said.

  Don extends his hand, indicating he wants his necklace returned. I hand it to him. “Now, Chris and Calli, tell me why you are so interested in my obsidian? Does it have something to do with the obsidian in your pocket watch?”

  My stomach clenches. What should we tell him? How much should he know? I can see Chris out of the corner of my eye nervously fidgeting in his chair. He’s probably waiting for me to say something.

  Just as I am about to speak up, Don says, “Chris, do you know why your father and I had a falling out all those years ago? Because I became angry when I learned you were being used as a guinea pig by the military. I know about your special ability, Chris, and I know what kind of tests they performed on you.”

  Chris chokes and sputters. “What?”

  “Yes, you are an amazingly fast runner, so fast, in fact, your father viewed you as a potential threat. That’s why he forced you into servitude. He figured if he kept a firm hold on you, he could control your actions. I saw you as finally feeling accepted by your father and embracing what you thought was respect and love. That’s what pissed me off so much!” Don slams his fist down on the table, causing the ceramic mugs to clink against the plates.

  Chris and I both jump at his sudden display of frustration.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me you knew about my ability?” Chris asks.

  “I was only following your lead, Chris. I knew you would have been threatened to keep everything secret, so I never pressed you for information.”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Don. How much do you understand about powers and abilities?”

  “Enough to know I need this piece of obsidian.”

  I speak up. “Uncle Don, I have powers too, but the obsidian in the pocket watch and around your neck takes away that power when I’m nearby.”

  Don smiles. “I know. That’s why I wear my necklace day and night. What I don’t understand is why you insist on keeping the watch open. Doesn’t that cancel out Chris’s running ability?”

  I answer, “We keep the watch open for the same reason you wear your obsidian 24/7. And, yes, it cancels Chris’s ability, but others have abilities, too. Not everyone uses their abilities for good. We’ve found the stone keeps us from being tracked.”

  “Tracked? Who’s looking for you?” Uncle Don’s protective nature visibly engages.

  “Uncle Don, the less you know the better.” Chris’s own protective nature emerges as well.

  “Cut the crap, Chris!” Uncle Don raises his voice. “Is it Stanley? I’m not afraid of setting him straight.”

  “Yes, Uncle Don, Dad is still up to his old games, but now he has the help of a person with powers, someone who has multiple powers and is especially dangerous.”

  “What do they want with you two?”

  Chris looks at me, not knowing what to say. We don’t have time to tell him the whole story and we don’t even know exactly what he knows. Surely he doesn’t know about the Diamond Bearers, or the amulet wearers’ murders, or about Freedom. An idea comes to mind. I say, “Don, we don’t have enough time to tell you the whole story. What we need is all the protection we can get. Do you own any other fragments of this obsidian?”

  “No, that’s the only one.”

  I turn to Chris and say, “That’s why your powers didn’t return when I left you in the room downstairs, and again when I used the bathroom. He was with you.”

  Then I face Don and ask, “Uncle Don, do you have other stones and crystals that would help us? We need to leave soon.”

  “Certainly, follow me.”

  We leave the kitchen and go downstairs to his work room. He says, “I’ll just need your birthday, Calli.”

  Chris answers before I can. “August seventh.”

  I’m surprised he knows my birthday.

  “I sneaked a peek in Ms. Winter’s files when you arrived,” he says with a wink.

  “When is your birthday?” I ask.

  “August tenth.”

  “Wow, so close to mine.”

  “A lot of Runners’ birthdays are in August. Apparently it has something to do with the location of the origin of the Running power in the universe and how everything lines up with Earth in that month. August isn’t the only time, though.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not a Runner,” I remind him.

  Uncle Don rummages through his different collections of beads and polished rocks, trying to locate particular stones.

  I spot a loose rubber band on the table. I ask, “Uncle Don, may I have this?” I hold up the band.

  “Yes,” he smiles. “Your birthdays may be close on the calendar, but they fall in different astrological signs. Chris is Aries and you are Leo.”

  “I’ve never actually cared, Uncle Don,” I say. “Up until now, I believed all that stuff was just for fun, you know, horoscopes and fortune-telling.”

  He consults an astrological chart and then checks the polished rocks he’s already gathered. He seems to be missing one. He turns and pokes around through his containers and bins again. I become alarmed when he starts to get frustrated over somethin
g. He leaves the room and crosses the hallway. Soon he reenters our room, beaming with pride, and begins threading stones onto a thin leather cord.

  Chris’s necklace has bloodstone, carnelian, and ruby—bloodstone for health and healing; carnelian for mental clarity and focus in high-stress situations; and ruby for high energy and power that promotes healing on all levels.

  My necklace includes golden topaz for its ability to store information, as well as energy, thoughts, and love; carnelian for the same reason as Chris’s; and sardonyx to prevent misfortune and protect against crime.

  Chris smirks and comments on the sardonyx. “We could have used that one a little earlier.”

  I ask Uncle Don, “Why these particular stones? Why not any of the others?”

  Don ties the cords off and hands the newly fashioned necklaces to us. “These stones are specific to your date of birth and will give you the protection you need individually.” As I accept my necklace from him, he abruptly grasps my wrist and looks deep into my eyes and says, “Please take care of my favorite nephew.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Don.” I smile and add, “I will.”

  Chris clears his throat. “She doesn’t need to care for me. I’m watching over her.”

  My mind runs through the new information while Chris and his uncle say goodbye. “Wait.” I put my hand up. “What about the obsidian in the pocket watch? Won’t it negate all these powers?”

  “No, these stones work in tandem with the obsidian. At least that’s what I’ve noticed with my own charm necklace.”

  “Oh. That’s good.” I feel a nervousness flood through my body. We have accomplished what we came here to do and it’s time to alert Maetha. I don’t know how or where, but I know we can’t summon Maetha at Uncle Don’s house.