by Otto Schafer
“You okay?” Paul asked.
“Uh…” Garrett blinked, looking up as he pulled a hand down his face. “Yeah, I guess so. Just wiped.”
Paul followed Garrett’s gaze and leaned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You have good friends, Garrett. They would do anything for you.”
Garrett forced a smile. That’s what he was afraid of. How far would they push themselves before this was over?
As if reading his mind, Paul reached over and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get through this, and we’ll get my sister back,” he said before climbing onto one of the makeshift beds.
Garrett nodded, glad to have Paul in this. To have a real soldier – a real leader.
Lenny lay on the seat a row up from Garrett, one of his long legs hanging out into the aisle. “We won’t get through the night if someone doesn’t cover the rotten smell coming off David’s feet! I just threw up in my mouth a little!”
Garrett smiled and opened Coach’s journal.
I know it isn’t easy to hear you’re half dökkálfar. If you’re reading this before you reach adulthood, you probably just closed this notebook. But I know you will open it again. Look, son, I know this must all sound absurd. So, I guess you have a choice to make. You can soldier up, read on, and learn what you will need to know, or close this notebook until you can no longer deny what you are.
Wherever you are in this world – in this life – these words are here for you, my son, whenever you are ready to hear them.
Okay, some of what I am telling you is legend and even I don’t know if all of it is true. As far as I know, a human would not show signs of being part dökkálfar until they reach adulthood. But I only know of one human who ever mated with a dökkálfar, and the legend says the gods destroyed the child before it reached adulthood.
What you need to know is this: when you wake up all werewolved-out, with pointed ears, a foot taller, and a purple hue to your skin, you’re going to lose your shit. Take a breath. This is probably controllable. Some of us have the ability to make ourselves appear human. Historically, this ability has been passed down through three distinct bloodlines. Fortunately for you, I am of one of those bloodlines. I know that sounds crazy but trust me, if you practice your focus, I have every confidence you can suppress your dökkálfar features. I believe that the fact you are half human will make it even easier. Don’t get me wrong, it will be hard at first, but eventually you won’t even have to think about it. It will become like breathing. Just breathe and focus. And before you think it, no, we aren’t shape-shifters. You won’t really be changing your appearance. What you will be doing is telepathically radiating the image you want others to see. It is a powerful telepathy that works well on humans, probably because we are similar creatures.
By now you are probably wondering how I came to be here. That’s a story thousands of years old that began a thousand years after my brother Apep stole the God Stones and opened a portal to this world…
Garrett’s eyes drifted shut, but he fought sleep like a child challenging his parents’ order to go to bed. He read on as Coach Dagrun recounted the story of Apep’s deceit, his desire to build a great army outside the watchful eye of his father, his plan to return to Karelia to overthrow the throne and take the kingdom of Osonian for himself. Through Coach’s words he learned how demented Apep really was, and all because his father had seen the crazy in Apep from the time he was a small child.
Coach told of meeting Turek in Egypt, the dragon wars, and how he used his ability as a dragon master to help Turek defeat the dragons and place the elders inside the temples. Turns out Coach was even more of a badass than Garrett could have ever imagined. Apparently, a dragon master had the ability to use some sort of mind control on dragons, kind of like Janis had before she was… God, he didn’t want to think about that.
Garrett yawned, squinting at a page almost too dark to see.
So now that you know what you are and how I came to be on your planet, maybe we should move on to how you came to exist, how I lost you, and how I have been trying to find you in Petersburg…
Garrett closed the notebook, eyebrows knotted above heavy eyes. Coach’s son was in Petersburg?
10
Yaya’s Quest
Tuesday, April 19 – God Stones Day 13
Rural Chiapas State, Mexico
Breanne’s shift standing guard ended as late night turned to early morning. What day was it now? She wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore. Did a Tuesday have relevance in Armageddon? By the time the girls got into their little nook inside the cave, the sun was threatening to rise. Still, she and Gabi were too excited to sleep. Instead, they lay there on a thin pallet of throws, the unyielding stone floor of the cave radiating a coolness beneath them as they spoke to each other in the silence of their minds, no one around them hearing a single word.
It didn’t come easy for Breanne. First, they found it worked best if they were holding hands. As they practiced, Gabi found she could hear Breanne even when they let go, but she said it was quieter then, like the volume had been turned down to a whisper. Gabi also taught her how to close the door to her mind. They practiced that too. Now, if Breanne wanted to have private thoughts and not worry about Gabi reading her mind, she could close the door. If Gabi wanted to talk to her, she pressed on the door. It felt like a light pressure in her head. Maybe she would need to have private thoughts, but right now Breanne wanted the door wide open. Gabi was trying to teach Breanne how to press on the door of Gabi’s mind, but so far, Breanne hadn’t figured that out.
Soon the surrounding camp stirred as quiet shadows moved about, rattling pots and sparking fires, and it was then that sleep found Breanne.
When Breanne woke, her first thought was of Garrett. She rolled over and peered up through the opening above the cenote. A wash of blue, cloudless and endless, had replaced the sea of midnight stars. Breanne frowned as if the color were all wrong, but she wasn’t thinking about the sky. She was thinking about the dream, trying to clear the fuzz and remember where he was, what he was saying, or what they were doing. It was all so vague, but whatever she had been dreaming was bad… maybe even terrible. Breanne pushed herself up onto her elbows. She thought of the last time she had seen him and the look on his face as he ran across the slab screaming for her, his face fixed in the fear of losing her.
Do you think he is okay, Bre? Gabi asked.
Breanne jumped, startled at the sound of Gabi speaking in her mind when the girl was nowhere to be seen. Breanne scanned the camp. The whole place bustled, reminding her of street markets she had visited in early morning. Everyone seemed in motion, tending fires, preparing food, unpacking goods still boxed from their late-night arrival. Juan was there, right in the middle of it all, directing newcomers to places to make camp. Already there were more people showing up. Beyond the camp and across the cenote, crystal-clear water fell from high above, spilling into the aqua-blue pool. Breanne stretched as she took it all in. The cave was even more gorgeous in the daylight.
Over here! Gabi said.
There, near the water’s edge, she saw Gabi smiling and waving. She must have overlooked the small girl as she knelt to fill a pot.
Try and talk to me, Bre.
Bre smiled and tried.
Gabi giggled and shook her head. It’s okay, Just keep trying.
Gabi came close enough that Breanne could have reached out and touched her, then tried again. How is Sarah?
Gabi smiled; then her smile faded to a thin line, and she answered. She still sleeps, and I think her fever is even worse.
Talking like this was still so strange. Have you asked around about antibiotics?
No one has medicine, Gabi said sadly, placing the pot of water next to Sarah as she knelt.
Breanne looked around the camp again. Most had come only with what they could carry or pull in a cart. These were people of rural Mexico – they probably didn’t have medicine cabinets full of leftover
drugs.
The young girl wet a cloth and wrung it back over the pot. She gently placed the cloth on Sarah’s forehead.
Sarah moaned.
Breanne reached over and took Sarah’s hand. It was hot and clammy. Near the closest fire sat the grey-haired woman. The one with the name of Breanne’s own grandma, Violeta. The one whose husband could not be saved, not by Breanne and not by the others. She looked as though she had aged a year overnight. But there was something else about her. Breanne didn’t know what it was, but she sensed it.
Go talk to her, Gabi said.
Breanne went to the woman. “Violeta?”
“Yes, child. Please, call me Yaya – all the children do,” the woman said, a fleeting smile flashing only briefly before the heartbreak returned to her wrinkled visage.
She speaks English? Breanne said to Gabi.
No, she doesn’t.
But…
I am helping, Gabi said.
You’re translating?
I don’t know exactly how, but yes, when the words come into your mind, I’m taking them, twisting them up, and changing them for you, so you understand. When you speak to her, she hears Spanish.
Breanne’s mouth hung open in amazement.
I made it sound a lot harder than it is. But… it’s working, no?
Yes, it’s working! She didn’t know how, but it was working.
In Breanne’s mind, Gabi giggled. Good. Ask her what you want. And I will translate what she says back to you.
“Can you help our friend?”
The woman looked over toward Sarah’s prone body and then back to Breanne, her expression curious. “Why do you ask me?”
“I… I don’t know. I just thought… felt…”
“In my village, I am the midwife. I take care of the women, and because we have no doctor, I treat minor things. If things are too bad, I send them to town. If things are so bad that town is too far, I do the best I can.”
“So, you can help?”
“I will try, but I already see she is ashen. Does she have a fever?”
“Yes, and I think it’s getting worse. She is unconscious most of the time now, and she hasn’t eaten anything in over two days.”
The old woman pushed her frail frame up from the crate she sat on. “She will slip into a coma soon if we don’t get the fever down.”
Breanne’s heart lurched in her chest at the word coma. Her father had been in a coma after their first encounter with Apep, back at Oak Island, and she thought she had lost him.
Violeta pressed on Sarah’s stomach and then examined her broken legs and arm. “Her fever is very bad.”
“Should we put her in cool water and try to lower her temp?” Breanne asked.
“No, if she becomes cold and shivers, it will drive her fever even higher. It is best to keep her covered and warm.” The woman’s face puckered in what might have been frustration. “I have no medicine here. All my supplies were left behind when the giant bug attack came, and my husband and I were ushered away.”
“Can you tell us how to get to your home and describe what you need?”
“Yes, but I do not believe you should go out there. It is far too dangerous. You saw what happened to my Raúl,” she said, her face sinking.
Breanne chewed at her lower lip, staring at Sarah. She looked absolutely awful. “Please, can you tell us what you need?”
Violeta’s eyes drifted over Sarah once more, and she nodded reluctantly.
Gabi and Breanne listened as the woman gave detailed directions, both on how to find her home and what they must bring back.
“Can I ask one more thing?” Breanne asked.
“Yes, child.”
“Please don’t tell anyone, not until we are gone?” She knew if Juan found out they were going, he would stop them. After all, they were still kids. Maybe she could argue for herself, and maybe they couldn’t stop her, but they could certainly stop her from taking Gabi. Maybe she was being a fool to take Gabi with her anyway? Should she really be placing her back in the danger they would most certainly face?
The old woman gave a reluctant nod. “I will stay quiet and take care of your friend until you return.”
“Thank you,” Breanne said.
Don’t even think about leaving me behind! Gabi shouted in her head.
Hey! Stop yelling! She really needed to remember to close her mind when she wanted to have private thoughts.
Sorry, but please don’t leave me here. You promised we would stay together! We will be safer together, and besides, I can help you find the village.
Breanne nodded. I won’t leave you, Gabi. But Juan won’t let you go if he finds out.
What do we do?
Breanne looked to the cave entrance. Eat something, Gabi, and then grab everything you need for the journey.
Then what?
We wait for our chance, Breanne said. She felt bad for what they were about to do, but she didn’t know another way.
They spread beans and rice over tortillas and rolled them up before packing them into their packs, and then they waited. The girls didn’t need to wait long before another group of travelers arrived, only this time they had an injured person in tow. It was a young boy with a deep puncture wound on his back. God only knew what had gotten ahold of him.
“Yaya!” Juan shouted.
Violeta turned her attention away from Sarah, her deep wrinkles practically swallowing her face as she squinted to see what the commotion was.
Look, Gabi!
What?
That man, he is the one who should be standing guard now! The guard had followed the group all the way into the cave in an effort to ensure the boy got help. This is it, Gabi! Walk to the cave entrance. I will be right behind you. Don’t run!
Once Breanne made it into the entrance, Gabi was there waiting for her.
Good job! Now, let’s go.
They exited the narrow entry onto a trail leading to open jungle.
Here we go. Then Breanne felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around.
The man asked something in Spanish; Breanne only caught enough to know it was a question. Gabi hadn’t been translating.
Breanne was about to say something when Gabi said, Let me handle it.
She spoke in quick Spanish to the man as she reached into her pack and pulled out a plastic bag of the bean tortillas.
The man, older and stout, with a belly that hung over his belt, smiled.
I told him we were supposed to bring him lunch.
Good one, Breanne said.
Yeah, but now what?
Just keep his attention. As Gabi continued to talk to him, Breanne moved behind the man, picked up a large stone, and threw it into the foliage to their right.
The man jerked around and raised his rifle with one hand, still holding the small sack of tortillas in the other. “¿Quién está allí?”
Run, Gabi! Breanne said.
Gabi ran, and Breanne darted after her. By the time the man spun back around, they were several yards down the trail and far out of reach. Shouts of, “¡Alto! ¡Alto!” rang out through the trees, but Breanne was pretty sure the man didn’t give chase. They jogged a little farther just to be safe, then slowed to a walk.
We did it, Gabi!
Gabi smiled. No way he was catching us!
Breanne smiled too and then became serious again, Okay, Yaya said we stay on the trail until it forces us to go right or left. I want to move fast, Gabi. It’s a long way, and I don’t want to be in these woods in the dark. If I go too fast, you tell me.
Okay!
And so they went, alternating between jogging and walking with purpose. Soon, morning turned to afternoon. They ate from Breanne’s bag of tortillas while they walked, talking silently in their minds, always wary of what could lunge from the jungle to attack them.
Twice that afternoon, they passed groups of people making their way to the cenote; both times, they stopped briefly to chat. Each time the frightened travelers told incre
dible stories of impossible creatures. Some told of how they had nearly been killed, others told of the horrors they had witnessed, all pleaded with the girls to turn back to the safety of the cenote.
As the sun dipped low and light gave way to shadow, the girls neared the point where they had to choose. Go right or go left. Suddenly a man appeared from around the corner, staggering toward them. His clothes hung loose. Something was clearly wrong.
Breanne grabbed Gabi by the wrist and pulled her back behind herself, unsure of the man’s intentions. But as he drew closer still, Breanne could see the man was clearly in disarray. His clothes weren’t loose, they were torn, and he was covered in dried blood.
The man stared ahead as he shuffled forward, his visage fixed in a grimace of fear, eyes locked in a distant gaze. He didn’t seem to notice them at all.
“¡María Purísima! ¿Señor? ¿Está bien?” Gabi asked.
The man stopped and turned, looking down at them. His brows knit up tight and he drew a sharp gasp, as if noticing them for the first time. The man’s head began to shake as he held out his hands. “No! They are all gone! All dead! I saw it! I saw them! I tried to pull my oldest son from the dragon’s mouth… But it tore him away from me!”