Joseph O’Killian holds a secret. One he doesn’t even know until an accident sends his mind whirling back through his life to discover his lost memories. Guided by a diary of a mother he didn’t know he had, Joseph fights through his memories to discover who he truly is and to save the man who took that boy away.

Chapter 1


“You know you can’t harm him,” Niamh scolds Riain.

He nods. “I know. I hate geassa. This is what I cannot do: harm Mark McDonough, who wishes he were a Formorian. Here is what I must do: keep Joseph, son of Joseph, son of our father Conare, safe from harm.”

“Nor can you tell Joseph of the Side.”

“Not I. Not I, love.”

Joseph traced patterns in the thin layer of dust on the windowsill. It was an old school; so at least the woodgrain on the sill gave Joseph something to follow as he traced. Following each line to its termination, he slowly exposed the dark stained wood underneath. Now he knew he was bored: this was gradually becoming fascinating. Finished with his classwork, he had twenty minutes of classtime to spare. He glanced over at his teacher, Mrs. Clark, as she paged through the grammar book. At the same time, he ruffled his short straw colored hair and tried to smooth the troublesome cowlick in the front to mask the movement of his eyes. He looked at the teacher again.

Her pale hands had grasped the edges of the lectern as she intermittently glanced over the diligent students. Within moments, her hands found a book to keep her occupied. Her mousy brown hair bespoke of a quiet disposition. Joseph knew better. He knew what burned in the black pools of her eyes: hatred for him. He didn’t know why, but he knew it lived there and suspected its origin. In the first few weeks of school, she had let it slip that she couldn’t have children, and she felt bad that she couldn’t give her husband a child. For that one moment, Mrs. Clark had shown real emotions, emotions other than the anger and bitterness she expressed now. He couldn’t remember why she had chosen to share her infertility with the class, but Joseph had immediately felt pity, and the pity he felt for his then new teacher had shown plainly on his face. Mrs. Clark saw it, and knew that she didn’t want his pity. Joseph rationalized that her actions toward him were to show him that she wasn’t a pitiable person. She’d yelled at him before, taunted him, and berated him. He tried to ignore it and move on. Making people mad was something he tried to avoid. He attributed her behavior to inexperience, her being a teacher of only a few years, and her inability to deal with her personal problems. Biting his lower lip, Joseph reached into his bookbag for his math notebook. Finishing his homework would allow him to use his time wisely. Didn’t they teach that in elementary school? As soon as pencil hit paper, Mrs. Clark was on him.