The Listener 

Welcome to The Listener, a serialization of Stir the Water's first ebook by Lauren Stinton. The chapter below will be periodically replaced with the chapter following.

Click here to download the complete book from the Stir the Water Online Store.

Novel description

This series from Stir the Water is about four people who die in this world and find themselves in a land that will either bring them to their destinies or completely destroy them.

One can hear the voice of God.

Another is a seer, a young psychology student, who spent her entire life trying to get rid of the hallucinations that plagued her.

One is a Flame Bearer, who was made to live among the fires of God.

Another can sing the songs of angels. And trees. And rocks. And stars.

Reviews

"The thing I really like about The Listener Chronicles is that it gives a visual reference for things in this life that are intangible and invisible. It gives a framework for dealing with spiritual realities that readers will then be able to notice in real life and begin to process. You will learn more about your own spiritual giftings by reading this series." — Jim Driscoll

"I’m hooked! (Do you have a release date for the next book?)"

"Loving it!!!"

Click here to submit comments or reviews.

Chapter Fourteen

            She was in a white room. The air smelled fresh and happy, like Tia Michele’s rose garden in spring, and real, live sunshine poured in through the open window. Surprised to see it, Andy stared at the bright, orange-red square on the far wall, and then she slowly took in the rest of the room. Weird.

            Everything was clean, unwrinkled, white, and — clean. She had been expecting something a little more on the prisoner/captive side. Like a dungeon, with iron bars and chains and somebody dying on the rack. This was a nice room. The walls looked like they were made with real drywall, however that happened to be. They were spotless.

            And it was a real bed she was sitting in. She pushed her finger down into the mattress. It was soft and squishy.

            What was the lunidon trying to pull here? Was this a trick? Some sort of bribery?

            Cautiously, she climbed out of bed and, with some surprise, discovered her clothing had miraculously changed itself. The pants and shirt that Ghent had given her were gone. In their place, she was wearing loose white pants and a long, billowy white shirt that had thin straps over the shoulders instead of sleeves. She scowled. Who had changed her clothes? And when? And why couldn’t she remember them doing it?

            “That’s so creepy,” she muttered.

            The floor was covered with a white, springy, fluffy stuff that was softer than any carpet she had ever walked on. But it wasn’t really a carpet, and it wasn’t sheepskin or any other sort of skin. She went over to the wall and tapped it with her fingernail. That sure felt like drywall. But how in the world would the Middle Ages get drywall? Maybe it was plaster. Did they have plaster back then? She couldn’t remember.

            The ruddy sunlight nearly blinded her. Wincing, she shielded her eyes with her hand and peered out the window. A second later, she unintentionally exclaimed, “What in the world . . . ?”

            The ground was hundreds of feet below the window. The distance caught her by surprise, and she grabbed the sill as funny little sensations went spiraling through her knees.

            She was standing in a building on the edge of a mountain. Down to the right, she could see a huge, massive gate that gleamed like it was made of solid gold. Every inch of it glistened and sparkled, almost to the point of being gaudy, and from this angle, it caught the sun like a mirror. Andy winced and looked beyond it to a long, wide road lined with trees and elegant lantern posts. It curved and twisted down the mountainside, stretching on and on until it finally reached the green and then disappeared into the woods. A high wall of white stone enclosed the entire area, and there were people everywhere. The road was packed, and the gate was open.

           “Where am I?” she wondered aloud.

            White specks dotted the green. Sheep? She looked more closely. No, the specks were horses. A sarcastic little thought occurred to her, and her brows rose. So the lunidon rides a white horse, does he? Well, you had to give the man ten points for trying.

            The entire horizon was filled with mountains. They were just as breathtaking, just as majestic as the ones in the Baim, but they looked a little darker, as if the stone was different. Everything below the snowline was green, fresh, and very weirdly pristine.

If Andy hadn’t known better, she might think this was the most perfect, most fairytale place she’d ever seen. She half expected to see a few cartoon characters suddenly appear and start singing.

            She frowned. I didn’t miss anything, did I? She glanced toward the gate again. Hundreds of people were down there. Animals. Carts. Carriages. Lots of activity. Some of the noise wafted up to the window. Where did the lunidon bring me?

            That was when she noticed the flowers. They grew in a box outside her window. She didn’t recognize the type. They looked a little like roses, and they were the softest shade of blue she had ever seen. Weird, she thought again. She liked baby blue. It was her favorite color, actually. But surely the lunidon didn’t know that. That would be really creepy if he did.

            Taking a breath, she turned and surveyed the room another time. It was a fairly large room — more like a living room than a bedroom. The only objects in it were the bed, a round door next to it, and a white dresser with a large mirror.

            A mirror. She suddenly remembered her recent run-in with a tree. She probably had a black eye the size of China. She checked.

            She frowned again. How is that possible?

            Her face looked normal. In fact, it was better than normal. Her skin was completely clear. Not a line. Not a scar. She had gotten the chicken pocks in first grade, and one had left a tiny indentation on her left cheek. Not even that was there. She looked . . . beautiful. Airbrushed. As if she were wearing lots of makeup, but she wasn’t. Her skin felt clean and smooth.

            “What sort of magic is this?” she whispered and thought, You know, maybe not all magic is bad.

She studied her reflection again. Nope. Not bad at all.

            Something clicked behind her. Bunching her hands into fists, she spun around, her bare heels digging into the carpet.

            Very slowly, the white handle on the door turned up, and even more slowly, the door pushed open a crack, as if the person on the other side was checking to see if Andy was still asleep or not. Whoever it was saw that the bed was empty, and the door swung wide.

            Andy’s jaw nearly dropped right off the bottom of her face. She couldn’t speak, and when she finally did, her voice squeaked, like she was staring at a ghost. She sort of was, in a way.

            “Jana?”

            Several times during their long friendship, Andy had tried to come up with a word or two that captured the general idea of her friend Jana Lamberti. “Snow Queen” had been suggested by a few of her exes, but — obviously — Andy was looking for something a little warmer. Leave off the “Snow” part, however, and they probably had it right.

            Jana was incredibly intelligent, the sort of intelligence that instantly makes the not-so-intelligent feel ill at ease and think about leaving the room. Most of them did, actually, now that Andy thought about it. Jana had graduated from high school three years ago, just a month after her seventeenth birthday, and had been studying psychology at the University of Chicago. She was planning on having her doctorate by the time she was twenty-five, and so far, so good.

            Well, until the Baim had happened.

            The girl was gorgeous. There was no other word that adequately described the way she smiled, the way her eyes sparkled. She had always been pretty, but just now, poking her head through the door like this, she was radiant. 

             For a moment, Andy’s mind overloaded, and nothing else registered. Jana? What was Jana doing here? Then, as the girl bounded into the room and flung her arms around her, Andy began to register everything. What was Jana doing here? How did she get here in the first place? She was here? And then, almost as a side note: What had happened to her glasses? She had always worn glasses, never contacts, because glasses added to the whole smart-girl-you-wish-you-were-dating look that, unfortunately, worked really well for her. But now the glasses were gone, and so was everything else that even remotely resembled who Jana had been before.

            “I am so glad to see you, Andrea!” she whispered, hugging her fiercely. “I missed you so much!”

            Andy had never been so relieved to see anyone. She hugged her back and tried not to cry. “Oh, I missed you, too! You have no idea! What are you doing here? I . . . I wasn’t thinking I would see you here. We looked for you for hours.” She briefly described what had happened on the mountainside.

            Instead of concern, Jana tossed her head back and laughed. Which was not exactly the response Andy had been expecting. From the very beginning, none of this was what she had been expecting. Jana looked as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Never mind the fact that there was a dragon-man somewhere in the vicinity. Never mind that the sun hadn’t come up the day before.

            “I first woke up in my room down the hall. Do you like this room? It’s yours. When Clovin told me you were here, I wanted to have you as near to me as possible. And here you are! I had the gardener plant the blue roses in the box for you, because I knew you would like them.”

            Well, that explained the flowers, but it didn’t explain anything else. Andy was more confused than ever. Jana had woken up here? How? And why had she come here, while Andy and Katie had wound up on some mountainside? “Who’s Clovin?”

            Jana’s look was as easy to read as a first-grade picture book. She sighed and rolled her brilliantly green, now-perfect eyes. “He is the sexiest man I have ever met. You probably won’t know exactly what I’m talking about, since you haven’t dated as much as I have, but when you meet the right one, you just know. He brought you here. You don’t have to worry about anything, because he’ll take care of it. He is so wonderful. I think I’m in love, Andrea. I really mean it.”

            Andy stared at her. Jana never said anything she didn’t mean. She had a quick temper, a quick wit, and you knew her opinion about things the moment you met her. She was the leader of every club, group, or team she joined.

Andy’s stomach turned. “What about James?”

“What about him? He’s not here, is he?” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, I just thought — ”

            Jana sighed. “Look. James was nice, but he was just a kid. A sophomore. This guy — I only met him two days ago, but I feel like I’ve known him all my life. He is the most thoughtful, most tender man I have ever known.”

            And you’ve known several, Andy thought.

            Jana laughed and slapped Andy’s shoulder. “And don’t you get any ideas. He’s mine. I, after all, saw him first.”

            This was a side of Jana that Andy hadn’t ever seen before. Bubbly? Jana was never bubbly. She never giggled, either, and that laugh sure sounded suspicious.

            “Just a second,” Andy said, holding up her hand. “Two days? You’ve been here . . . the whole time?”

            “I’ve been here longer than you have,” Jana countered.

            Andy frowned. “How does that work? I’ve been here since — ”

            “You’ve been asleep for four days, Andy. Four days. Clovin says that’s usually what happens when a Light is brought from the Baim. They sleep.”

            “Four days? From the Baim?”

            “Oh, this isn’t the Baim, Andrea. This is Dar’hania, the famous river’s birthplace. See?” She pointed out the window at the mountains. “The river, which you no doubt have heard of, since the Humani people talk about it all the time, starts in those mountains right over there. It’s a beautiful ride. Clovin took me there yesterday. I’ll take you to see it. You just have to go.”

            “I’m sorry, Jana, but I am seriously confused here. Tell me who Clovin is again?”

            Jana’s expression immediately popped into her mother look — a patronizing look that every person she came in contact with, even a few professors, received on a fairly regular basis. Andy had never been able to put up with it for long. Something weird was happening here, and she didn’t need Jana to think she was stupid or couldn’t understand.

            “Clovin is the Rallin of Dar’hania. The Rallin is a — ”

            “The leader. The king person.”

            “Right. Clovin is also called the Healer, because whatever he touches is made whole.” Her brows rose. “For instance, I now have perfect eyesight. If that isn’t impressive, I don’t know what is.”

            A certain conversation with Ghent floated up from the back of Andy’s mind. He is the master of the grystadon. Some call him a healer. A sorcerer. But I will not speak of him anymore here. To do so is a disgrace.

            “Have you looked in the mirror yet?” Jana asked pointedly.

            The sunlight still poured in through the window, a never-ending stream, but now, quite suddenly, the air began to feel cold and thick, just as it had four days ago, when the sun had not risen. Andy could feel it, but Jana apparently did not. She went on grinning like a beauty pageant contestant. This wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense. Last night — or whatever night that had been — Andy had looked into the lunidon’s eyes and had known that she was staring at something evil. He had not been anything of good. Ghent had called him a sorcerer. The Rallin had called him a liar.

            But Jana called him wonderful.

            Somebody somewhere was confused.           

            “I can tell by your face that you’ve seen yourself. Isn’t it amazing? Everything is gone. There is not a scar or pimple or any imperfection anywhere on me. Or on you.”

            “How is that possible?”

            Jana laughed again. “You’ll have to meet him and see. You’ll understand when you see him. There is something about his eyes . . . When I look at him, I know that anything is possible.”

            Oh, really? Andy watched her. “Do you know how I got here?”

            “Clovin brought you.”

            “And how did he bring me?”

            For the first time, Jana’s smile faded, and concern appeared in her eyes. “You don’t remember?”

            “Um, no. Sorry, I don’t.”

            “I was just asking,” Jana retorted. “You’re obviously still tired.”

            “I am not still tired.”

            “Yes, you are. You wouldn’t snap at me if you weren’t.”

            Andy slowly counted to three. It was amazing that she and Jana were friends. Of course, this Jana was a weird Jana. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but something — something important — had changed. Deciding to take a diplomatic approach, Andy said, “I’m sorry. Perhaps you’re right.”

            Jana winked at her. “I’m always right; we’ve had this discussion before. There was a huge battle, Andrea. Don’t you remember? You were held captive by a Flame Bearer. He was trying to kill you. Flame Bearers are sorcerers who can shoot fire out of their hands. Horrible wizards. Clovin has told me all about them, and I hope I never have to see one.” She shuddered. “And you were with one! You poor girl! No wonder your subconscious has chosen to repress it. It’s probably a good thing to block it out.”

            “Flame Bearers aren’t sorcerers, Jana.”

            Jana’s tone was clipped. “Oh, yes, they are. They are incredibly evil. The Rallin of the Baim — a manipulating magician — is plotting Clovin’s demise. He wants to destroy him and take Dar’hania back. The two countries were once the same, you know. I don’t know everything about their history, but I do know this.” She lifted her chin. “You are lucky to be alive, and I don’t want you to talk badly about Clovin and what he has done for you. He could have let you die, you know.”

            Andy didn’t know what to say. The only thing she could think of at the moment was taking Jana by the shoulders and shaking her like a can of hair spray. “Jana, that . . . that isn’t what happened.”

            Pity brimmed in Jana’s eyes, and she blinked back tears. She shook her head sadly. “You’ve been brainwashed, Andrea. But don’t worry — we’ll take care of you now.” She patted Andy’s arm. “You’re in good hands.”

            Oh, dear lord, Andy thought. So Clovin had “rescued” her from the Flame Bearer? How could Jana believe something that was so ridiculous? Jana wasn’t stupid. She was the math whiz. She was the girl who placed in every academic competition she entered. The U of C had practically begged her to come. She could give great advice and did — frequently. She usually knew what she was talking about, and that thing about her never being wrong? Yes, they actually had had that discussion before. She was being serious.

            All this to say, it would not be easy to fool her. It would take a whole truckload of cunning and scheming to do so. Or — and here was the thought Andy didn’t want to think — it would take the truth.

            What if she had been brainwashed?  

            Anger and confusion. Andy took a deep breath and let it out, glancing about the room as she did so. What was real here? She could see the mountains out the window and between them a sliver of cinnamon-colored sky. Today, the sun had come up. It had actually come up today.

            On the road, she’d been afraid. And it had been real fear. Surely, a man who was totally good, who was gentle and kind and wonderful — like Jana seemed to think Clovin was — would not put a spell on the sky and terrorize five people on the road. He wouldn’t murder one of them. He wouldn’t threaten to kill three others. He would not be a dragon lord. Yet the lunidon was and had done all those things.

            Jana took her arm. “Come,” she said, pulling her toward the door. “I have something to show you. Oh, and do you like your outfit? I chose it myself. And you know I have good taste.”

Look for The Listener and its sequel, The Priest, in the Stir the Water Online Store.