Gatekeeper's Realm-e

Legacy series, Vol 2

by Elena Dorothy Bowman

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, author of Death on Delivery and Journey into Terror.

ISBN 1-59431-481-0 Romance/ Paranormal / SciFi

Cover Art/David P. Bowman.

Also available in RTF and HTML formats.



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.

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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.

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