Stewards of the White Circle: Calm Before the Storm. JT MDiv Brewer

much the same vein, he trusted the intuition that led him to this new university. He could have chosen from any in the world, and logic might have brought him to a more prestigious location; but he was not concerned about his own career. Not hardly. He was on a quest for someone he must find, a very special, unique soul who probably had no idea of his true calling … yet. Such a search took faith. Omega knew when one goes looking for a single shell on a beach of thousands, one had better trust in something more reliable than logic.

      So I follow my gut and this is where I end up—-Fort Collins, Colorado, for goodness sake! Who would have thought? He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He leaned his elbows on his desk and let his eyes wander back and forth over his beloved knickknacks and reflected. Quite a leap from Chicago to Fort Collins, from celebrity to this humble swivel chair. James Omega has shown he can dance in the spotlight, now we will see if he can exit gracefully off the stage. One season wanes, another waxes. You do not miss the hoopla. It is so peaceful here. It has all come round for the best so far, right, old man? Being here feels right. You have to trust in that. You have to trust that you have been led to where you are supposed to be.

      He pushed back his chair, stood and moved once more to his precious window. His fingertips drummed on the window ledge as he peered down, watching the buildings below swallow the students in gulps. Except for Anna Dawn's keys snapping away in the next room, the office was perfectly peaceful and silent. The afternoon sun beamed in soft rays through scattered clouds above, its position in the sky almost directly overhead. Soon it would move southward, summer would pass and the precious days would keep marching onward, unabated.

      The master-clock is ticking. Time, precious time, is slipping through my fingers. I must find him!“ He struck the window ledge with his hand in frustration.

      “This is the right place to look, I know it, I know it!” he spoke aloud, trying to reassure himself. ‘All that is needful, shall be given,' he thought, that is the promise. Ah, but what a test! I feel as if I stand in the vortex of a rising storm, holding my breath, waiting for the cyclone of events to sweep my way. I cannot run from them, nor control them. I can only play my humble part as best I can. As for now, in this decision to be here, I must stand firm! I have followed the call. Surely, he cannot be far away.”

      Omega drew in his breath and held it a long time in pensive thought. There were heavy stakes in this game he was playing. Where much was to be gained, much was at risk. The enemies would be out hunting for him, soon enough. Like bloodhounds, they had his scent in their noses and weren't about to give up the chase. He had bought himself a little time with this move, but he would be found out sooner or later; and then they would be after him again.

      A sudden anxiety rose like a cold hunger in his stomach. He splayed his hands against the glass, pressing its silicon chill against his palms as if trying to reach desperately through it, to touch someone below, beyond his grasp. He pressed his forehead to the window, fighting to keep down the anxiety that rose like bile to his throat. The greatest danger of this game was not going to be for him.

      There were more than bloodhounds about. More than men seeking to crush James Omega. There were wolves. Dark forces. Powers of evil. Everywhere Good raised Its head, there was Evil, throwing stones. Every time he or another of the Council raised a banner, there was Evil, scrambling to pull it down.

      The moment word got out there was a mortal chosen for a special calling assigned by the Maker himself, the wolves would have their noses to the air.

      Omega bowed his head. Please, dear Maker, bring him to me quickly, he prayed. Let me find him before they do.