Daniel Holden has spent eighteen years looking over his shoulder and searching for his life's purpose. Now the shadow people are on his trail again, haunting and torturing him. As frustration and hopelessness lead him to the edge of insanity, Daniel drops out of college, determined to end his suffering by hurling his body off a bridge. But when he is mysteriously saved from his decided fate, Daniel embraces a second chance to turn his life around. After Josiah, a mysterious loner, takes him under his wing, Daniel discovers that he, like Josiah, is a Sage-the last-born member of a secret society destined to protect the world from evil forces. Being a Sage comes with a unique mission for Daniel: to one day lead the righteous souls of Earth in a final battle against the Sage's evil counterparts, the Goths. If he is victorious, the planet will experience peace and prosperity. If defeated, the Goths will enslave all of humanity into misery and darkness. With the help of Lucy, his new love and mentor, Daniel soon uncovers a new hurdle: a Sage killer is on the loose. In this young adult fantasy, a Sage couple must find a murderer and uncover a dark secret as the fate of the world awaits. Sage By Anthony Mesi iUniverse LLC Copyright © 2013 Anthony Mesi All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4917-1795-0 CHAPTER 1 Looking back, I have to admit I never saw it coming. Not that it was a complete surprise—I'd been stalked a thousand times before. All I'm saying is it caught me off guard. It always works out like that. Just when I think I've got things figured out, life moves in with a swift uppercut to the jaw and drops me to the mat before I even know what's hit me. Like two years ago when I left quiet little Coventry, Vermont, to start my freshman year of college at Geneseo State. Geneseo, New York, seemed a thousand miles away from Coventry at first, but the homesickness wore off fast. It didn't take long to figure out that college was a haven. I mean, seriously. Two to three classes each day, beautiful girls everywhere I looked, and no one to answer to other than myself. What wasn't to like about that setup? My biggest challenge was getting to class on time, and that horrible Monday morning in late October was no exception. After three hits to the snooze button, I sprinted through Erie Hall in yet another last-minute effort to make my eight o'clock class. Something didn't feel right, though. "What the hell happened to you?" Vince Weegan asked as I flew past, leaving a vapor trail behind. My stomach had been flip-flopping since I rolled out of bed, but I thought I could keep my inner turmoil hidden from everyone else. Apparently not. I never did have much of a poker face. I glanced across a busy campus full of heavy-lidded students downing their morning coffee and marching off to class. I tried to convince myself I could will the feeling away and blend in with the crowd. My sweat-drenched forehead suggested otherwise. Then the dreaded voices kicked in—hushed whispers at first. In no time, a multitude of voices swirled around in my head, shouting over each other in a booming chorus of obnoxious noise. I picked up the pace, hoping to outrun them. It didn't work. They only got louder as I made my way up the path toward the College Union. "Holden," a voice boomed, as if it were right behind me. "Danny Boy!" I turned to see Rog Dubell flagging me down. What a relief—a voice with a real person attached. "Party at 30 Court Street tonight. You in?" he asked, walking backward in his trademark baggy pants and tilted Yankees cap. My stomach went sour. "I'll think about it," I said, trying to downplay being seconds away from unloading last night's dinner on anyone or anything that crossed my path. He rolled his eyes. "What's there to think about? There's gonna be, like, fifty hot girls there, minimum. You don't wanna miss this one." "All right, all right. I'll let you know." "It's a no-brainer, dude," he said, taking off toward Newton Hall. I continued on toward the academic buildings when something sharp jabbed the back of my head. A mild burning sensation followed, and within seconds, it was as if someone had twisted a giant corkscrew into the back of my skull and was cranking up the pressure one-quarter turn at a time. I made it to the stairwell leading up to the main quad, but I had to grip the bottom rail for support. My brain was about to split down the middle, and my once churning stomach growled like an angry demon. I dropped onto the bottom steps, holding my head in my hands. What was I going to do? I didn't want to have a total meltdown in front of half the campus, and I sure as hell didn't want to stagger into class in this condition either. A blurry figure streaked past and disappeared behind Jones Hall. Oh God. My worst fear had come true. They were here. The shadow people had followed me all the way to New York. I'd spent eighteen years looking over my shoulder. Now they were on my trail again. I had to