by J F Rogers
Astray
◊◊◊
J. F. Rogers
Copyright
Astray - Ariboslia Book I
© 2016 J F Rogers
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced except by permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to existing people or places is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-955169-01-1
Published by Noblebright Publishing
Sanford, Maine
www.noblebrightpublishing.com
Dedication
To my family.
And to those who have not yet found the hope of Christ.
I pray the words within these pages lead you to Him.
You are loved.
Table of Contents
Pronunciation Guide
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Shameless Request for Reviews
More from J. F. Rogers
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Pronunciation Guide
PEOPLE
Achaius ah-key-us Rescues babies and elderly from the Treasach
Aodan Tuama ay-den Too-ah-ma Fallon’s uncle and leader of the fasgadair
Be’Norr* beh-norr A guard
Cahal Fidhne kah-hal Feen Accompanies Fallon on her quest
Cataleen Cat-ah-lean Fallon’s mother
Cairbre kar-bruh A legendary hero
Declan Cael deck-lan Kayl Accompanies Fallon on her quest
Deirdra deer-drah The love of legendary hero Cairbre
De’Mere deh-meer
De’Rahn deh-rahn A guard
Eadbhard Ay-dwaar-er An elder of the Arlen clan of Kylemore and Maili’s father
Fallon fal-lawn the main character
Faolan fway-lawn A friend of Fallon’s mother
Fiona fee-own-ah Fallon’s paternal grandmother
Le’Corenci leh-Core-en-chi A fasgadair
Maili may-lee Declan’s betrothed
Miloslsv mee-los-slaf A dark pech who forged the zpět
Mirna Meer-nah Fallon’s maternal grandmother
Morrigan More-ih-gahn The original fasgadair
Ryann Mughráin ry-an Moo-ray-in Accompanies Fallon on her quest
Tashaundra tash-ahn-drah A child
CLANS
Ain-Dìleas ahn dill-ay-ahs from Bandia
Arlen are-luhn from Kylemore
Cael kayl from Notirr
Treasach treh-zack from Gnuatthara
RACES
Fasgadair faz-geh-deer Vampires - means “blood drinker”
Gachen gah-chen Shapeshifters - anagram for “change”
Pech peck Small, strong people with abilities with stone
Selkie sell-key gachen who turn into seals
PLACES
Ariboslia air-eh-bows-lia the realm
Bandia ban-dee-ah occupied by the Ain-Dìleas
Bloigh rùm bleye room a hall in Ceas Croi
Ceas Croi* kase kree a city in a mountain created by the pech, occupied by the fasgadair
Cnatan Mountains crah-dan the mountains that make Bandia difficult to reach by land
Diabalta dee-ah-ball-tah a formerly great city now under Morrigan's control
Gnuatthara new-tara a fortified city occupied by the Treasach
Kylemore kyle-more a village in the trees occupied by the Arlen
Notirr* no-tear a village of mounds in hills occupied by the Cael
Saltinat salt-in-at an underwater city occupied by the selkie
Tower of Galore ga-lore a large tower rumored to be occupied by giants
THINGS
Bian bee-ahn the time when gachen or selkie come of age and shapeshift for the first time
Bogle boh-gul a mythical creature invented to scare children, like the boogeyman
Cianese see-ahn-eese a foreign language-most speak Ariboslian
Co-Cheangail ko-kang-gale a committee of United Clans
Drochaid* dro-hach the amulet Pepin created
Gealach Lionadh jee-lahk lee-on-ad (new moon celebration
Glemmestein glem-eh-stine a mineral that results in memory loss
Ionraic* on-eh-rick the committee of believers after the Co-Cheangail fell apart
Sùgh sue poisonous berries that resemble blueberries
Turnering av Stryke* turn-ay-eh-ring ahv streek an annual pech competition of strength
Uilebheist oo-deh-bish a monster the pech use as a death penalty
Zpět sp-yet the amulet that resurrected Morrigan
*trill the r
Prologue
◊◊◊
In the foothills of rural Maine
UNDER THE COVER OF night, hidden in the rickety tree house in the backyard, De’Mere waited, watching. The fort offered all he needed, privacy and the perfect vantage point. He peered into the upper right-hand window of the old farmhouse across the lawn. The alarm clock’s glow illuminated Fallon’s room in an alien-like green. Only her feet at the edge of the bed lay within view. Their stirring told him she was having a nightmare—again.
He slumped against the rough, far wall and peeked at the sky through wide gaps in the roof. The sun would soon rise. He’d retreat to the wood to rest until it was time to return. Then his real work would begin.
“De’Mere,” a thunderous, yet oddly melodic voice called.
De’Mere bristled as chills coursed down his spine. He jumped to his feet, bumped his head on the low ceiling, and dropped to his knees to peer out the windows.
“De’Mere.” The voice seemed to float in midair right in front of his face. He fell back, away from the window, and reached out, groping air with his right hand for something solid, perturbed that his otherwise keen eyesight failed him at this crucial time. This must be how a blind man might feel, sneaked up on, spoken to without warning.
“Your time has nearly come.” The voice stimulated a fresh course of chills surging throughout his being. It commanded attention, and for a creature such as himself, invoked fear. Its very presence filled the confined space. “Do you remember what to do?”
De’Mere continued his search for clues as to its whereabouts. It see
med to be everywhere. An internal struggle raged between his desperate desire to find the owner of the voice and his equal need to shy away. He craved a glimpse, if only to determine where to draw near or in which direction to run.
“Do you know what to do?”
“Yes,” he answered in a hurried, hushed tone, afraid to elicit an unwelcome audience, which didn’t appear to concern the disembodied voice. But then, perhaps it wasn’t audible to anyone but him. “But how do I make sure she’s there?”
“Just do your part. Tonight.”
The air no longer squeezed De’Mere like an invisible vise. The unearthly being was gone. He took a deep breath, savoring his solitude. But the hollow cavity within him widened. If only he could fill the void.
He returned his attention to Fallon’s bedroom. The sheet lay flat. She must have risen while he’d been distracted. Had she overheard their voices and come outside? He peered down the hole in the floor. The ladder was bare. Careful to avoid the squeaky planks, he crossed to the window closest to the house. He dared stick his head out enough to search the darkness below, hoping it wasn’t a mistake. He’d come too far to risk exposure now.
The night was still. As if all living things had been frightened away. The breeze dared not even rustle a leaf. He ducked back inside and searched the path to the house. Still nothing. Crickets chirping in the distance offered the only sign of life.
He glanced back at the house. Light filled the bathroom window. A shadow moved beyond the drawn shade. Releasing the air he’d been holding, he laughed softly at his paranoia. He was much too far away for a mere human to hear.
“Tonight,” De’Mere whispered, the word lingering in the air.
After all these years, the time had come. His watching and waiting would soon be over. He’d play his part. The trick would be getting Fallon to play hers.
He descended from the tree house by dropping out the trapdoor. After landing with a soft thud on the unkempt lawn, he ran on all fours for the cover of the tree line.
Chapter One
◊◊◊
THE SUN’S UNNATURAL GLOW blinded me. Tears coursed down my face as I struggled to take in my surroundings. With each blink, a woman with long, blonde hair dappled in gold sparkles grew clearer. She sat motionless on the sand, watching the ocean waves. I couldn’t see her face, but imagined she awaited her long-lost love from beneath the watery depths. A breeze swept across the shore, swirling the white dress around her delicate frame as tresses danced about her face.
The wind carried my name, long and silvery sweet, “Fallon…Faaaaallon.”
A shiver ran through me. Was she calling me? Did I know her? A dream. This had to be a dream.
Something about her was familiar. Overcome with an unsettling compulsion to be near her, I walked in her direction. But the woman remained the same distance away. I paused, blinking to ensure I wasn’t seeing things, and then quickened my pace. Still, I made no ground. I ran. Again, no progress. Frustrated, I stopped.
The woman slowly turned to face me.
Shadows overtook the landscape as storm clouds choked the sun. Neither of us moved, yet the woman was closer. The entire scene was now mere feet before me, as if I’d somehow crossed a considerable distance. In one fluid motion, her hair transformed from blonde to black. As the serene face mutated, curiosity morphed into disquiet in the pit of my stomach. I gasped. I recognized deep purple eyes unobscured by thick lenses. The pasty, oblong face minus the acne. Me—only beautiful. With an eerie lack of emotion, the doppelganger’s face tilted sideways. My stomach tightened with each passing second that those dead eyes watched me until I nearly doubled over in pain.
Without warning, its mouth widened. Baring sharp, menacing fangs, it lunged at me.
Just before it reached me, my body spasms jerked me awake, as if I’d fallen from the ceiling onto the bed. Entangled in my sheets, I fought to free myself. As reality set in, my thudding heart descended to its natural rhythm. I let out a slow, even breath and glanced at the alarm clock’s glowing digits, squinting to make sense of them—3:56 a.m.
Something was off. The air sizzled, as though an unseen electrical current ran through it. I felt a presence. Within reach, yet so far away. The more I grasped for what it might be, the more it evaded me. Something lurked in the shadows. I was certain of it.
I put on my glasses and fumbled with the bedside lamp, knocking it to the floor. I stilled, holding my breath, waiting for whatever remained hidden in the darkness to jump me.
Nothing moved.
Rather than drape my feet over the bed and give any monster lurking there a chance to grab my ankles, I stood and jumped far out of reach. I landed on the creaky oak floorboards and hurried to the bathroom to flip on the light switch before something could sneak up behind me in the dark. I shook my head at myself. If Stacy could see me now, avoiding the boogeyman under my bed, she’d tease me mercilessly.
After splashing cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the dream, I put on my glasses and eyed my reflection. My face, littered with acne no astringent could clear up, scowled back. My purple eyes, magnified in the thick frames, glared. If only I were truly as beautiful as in the dream, for the brief moment before it changed. The fanged creature came to mind. I shuddered, grabbed a towel, and dried off.
I lumbered back to my room and picked up the lamp. The light erased all but a few shadows, which I took time to investigate personally.
I eyed everything with extreme scrutiny, even the flowery, yellowed wallpaper, peeling in places, certain a chameleonlike creature could hide itself there. But nothing bulged. I flung back the once beautiful pink bedding that now looked like something from a hamster cage. Ratty. But the sheet lay flat.
Other than the wear and tear, my room hadn’t changed in ten years. Not since Bumpah died. After that, Fiona stopped taking care of…well…everything. She threw money at me every once in a while so Stacy’s mom could take me clothes shopping or to doctor appointments. Other than that, she never gave me anything, not even on my birthday.
My birthday. Today. My seventeenth birthday. The first day of summer. I flopped on my bed, grateful school was over until fall, but I couldn’t face another birthday without Bumpah. No, I wouldn’t allow myself to think about it.
I glanced at the book overhanging my bedside table and snatched it up, eager to escape to the world within its pages. My bookmark fell out, and I grumbled as I found my spot.
Reading about other worlds usually calmed me, but the words refused to sink in. Instead, Bumpah kept popping into my mind. The hollow within me widened. I needed him to pull me out of my funk. I could almost hear him joking, comparing my moods to the New England weather. “If you don't like it, wait a minute,” he’d say. Then he’d sing and dance around like a goof. Inevitably, a smile returned to my face.
I needed Bumpah to calm the storm, to make my birthday special. All I had was Fiona, and she couldn’t care less. Instead of loving me as her granddaughter, she treated me like an annoying customer lingering past closing. Or worse.
The whirlwind of darkness engulfed me. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around myself. My hands ran over the scars, reminding me I could, once more, deal with the pain. But no, I’d promised Stacy, the only one who knew my secret and still cared about me, for whatever reason. Perhaps I should try talking to her God.
“God, if you’re really there, I don’t know why you’d listen to me, but Stacy keeps asking me to, so here goes. God, I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry. All the time. I can’t help it. My grandmother hates me. I don’t have any family. I’m all al—” My voice cracked and tears poured. “I don’t want to be this way.” I slammed my fist against the pillow. “Why’d you take my family away? You never even gave me a chance. Are you even there? Do you even care?”
Nothing. No response. I wiped my eyes and returned to my book with renewed focus, determined to escape reality. At least I could tell St
acy I’d tried. If her God was real, He must hate me.
****
When the sun’s rays streamed into the room, overheating me, I found the book open with the pages bent under my face. I folded them back in place, checked for drool, and returned it to my bedside, hoping the librarian wouldn’t notice or care. Then I threw on a crumpled pair of jeans and a black T-shirt before heading to the kitchen.
I paused at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. As I stared at the worn treads, I prepped myself for the off chance that I might come in contact with Fiona. “It’s just another day like any other. Don’t expect anything from her. It doesn’t matter that it’s your birthday.” No matter what, this year, I would not get my hopes up.
I shuffled downstairs then through the dining room to the kitchen. Fiona’s immense plate collection in the hutch rattled in my wake.
Fiona sat at the kitchen table, eating a late breakfast. She dropped her head, shaggy gray hair falling around her face as she wiped her eyes, and shoved a postcard into the pocket of the drab brown sweater she always wore—even in this summer heat.
I almost turned and left, but I needed coffee. Sighing, I plodded to the coffee maker, eyeing the cracked black-and-white checkered tile as I went. My tangled mass of black hair dangled in my face, shielding me from view.
Fiona slurped her coffee. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”
I wanted to ask if “us” included her many personalities. I bit my tongue. Instead, I grunted something resembling “morning.”
I hoped she’d leave it at that. Nothing good came from conversation with Fiona. The more I allowed the woman to voice her opinion, the greater the chance I’d run away in tears. She was a guilt-trip ninja, striking when I least expected.
“I have something for you.”
A warning thumped in my chest. I continued to stir the cream and sugar in my coffee, too much of each. I turned to face her. “What is it?”