Bluestone

by C E Johnson

  Vampires were Samil’s favorite form of half-dead, graceful, agile and strong, and he wished he had vampires guarding him on Earth, but he wasn’t going to bring half-deads across his portal just yet as his advisors thought they would draw too much attention.

  He gunned his engine over a rise, called ‘tumbleweed hill’ by the locals, and left the ground for several seconds. Such a short moment of flying. He wished the sensation would last forever. I wonder what my bondsmate’s doing right now. He quested out with his mind, searching for any trace of Skyler, but there was nothing, only darkness in their link that matched the hole in his heart. It’s so hard to perform a mind-link when I’m on another blasted world.

  A sedan blared its horn in irritation as his motorcycle flew past the slow lump of steel. “I’d love to see Skyler bathe your car in fire,” Samil roared while shaking his fist at the snail-paced driver. He felt an ache in his chest at the feeling of isolation caused by the separation from his dragon bondsmate, one of the most powerful beings on Acacia. There was a hierarchy to the dragons based on their scale color. His dragon was black and a high-level dragon, but still much weaker than the multicolored dragons, the ruling class of the planet who were nearly invincible … or so they thought.

  Samil roared down a ravine letting his powers again steady the vehicle. Streaming through the valley at well over one hundred miles per hour, he was urging the engine to perform, but he still wasn’t satisfied, and he longed to fly on a dragon’s wings. As he passed an elderly female hunched over her car’s steering wheel, he roared with laughter at her timid, kyphotic form, letting his motorcycle almost touch the ancient lady’s vehicle. He saw her shrieking in horror while she swerved onto the shoulder of the road and slammed on her brakes. At least some things on this planet are amusing.

  Samil fully recognized the awesome advantages granted by his bondsmate link. Not only did he gain intelligence and power from his dragon, but any formed bond, whether with a dragon or a chickadee, let a magician live much longer, and the normal life span of up to one hundred years might increase to over five hundred years.

  Samil wiped the sweat from his brow as a dull pounding headache formed behind his eyes. I need a drink. He was approaching a restaurant called the Oasis that for Earth served tasty refreshments. Screeching into the parking lot, he revved up his engine to roar as loud as a lion but nowhere near to approximating the noise of an angry dragon. He parked half in a handicapped spot, half on the sidewalk and spat on the handicapped sign. Forget the stupid rules on this planet.

  Ignoring the commotion he was creating, he dismounted from his motorcycle and strode into the restaurant, letting his ki evaluate the area for any danger. The area is safe, his ki, his inner voice, informed him.

  Looking like a miniature princess on her throne, Emily sat in a plastic white highchair on an outdoor patio in the very restaurant that Samil was entering. She was dozing in the heat with several Cheerios scattered haphazardly before her. There were scores of statues around the grounds, and the Whayne’s table was next to a large statue of the Greek Goddess of Justice holding a sword and a staff.

  Samil didn’t initially see Emily as she didn’t yet have an aura which would have immediately attracted his ki’s attention. Relishing the way the other diners unconsciously cringed from his inner power, he arrogantly prowled past them. Or perhaps it’s my withered, skeletal appearance, he thought drily. He sauntered to the railing and stared out at the lake knowing the view was beautiful but also knowing the details of the vista before him couldn’t fully register in his mind because of his depressed sensations. His rolling fingers moved along his belt to a ring which held keys made of multicolored gemstones and diamonds shaped like small-scale black dragons, keys to allow access to his portal.

  “Roberto, bring me my usual,” he commanded to his timid waiter. “It’s as hot as the Javan deserts around here.”

  “Of course, Mr. Samil. Right away.”

  Giving a sneer and a decisive flash of yellow incisors at any who gazed in his direction, Samil swaggered toward his reserved table. I’m sure these stupid Earthlings are wondering if I’m impaired, he thought. Coming to Earth was a painful process as all muscular movements became slow and delayed. Breathing rather rapidly, he collapsed into a chair at his table. I can’t wait to go back home. Just a little more business to attend to.

  Samil took off his sunglasses to reveal dark circles under his eyes. He spotted Emily’s parents next to him and he awarded them a condescending smirk.

  Roberto, face flushed red, rushed to the domineering man’s table carrying a frozen margarita. Samil snatched the drink, and took a long, slow sip of the icy liquid. He licked his lips hoping the salt would stimulate a fragment of his sense of taste, and the fluid streaming down his throat would sooth his aching head. Roberto stood nervously next to him for a moment with flitting eyes and fluttering hands avoiding direct contact with Samil’s dark orbs.

  “Faster next time, Roberto, or no tip for you,” Samil mocked the departing figure, enjoying the man’s discomfort as he shuffled away. He continued to inhale his cold concoction while surveying the patio area until his eyes came to rest on Emily. While choking on his drink, he did a visual double take. The girl has elven ears. Confusion rose in his mind, and he felt a cold shudder run down his spine. “What a cute baby,” he hoarsely barked out while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Thank you,” Jean said sharply. She turned her chair to face in the other direction from Samil.

  “How old is she?” Samil tried to strike up a conversation with the girl’s father while his dark black eyes fastened on her. He whispered a spell, instinctually using his talents to allow his magus to quest forward to find signs of magic in or on the child. Searching for the truth, his black power surrounded her aggressively.

  “Six months,” Richard replied in a stiff manner while eying Samil with a clenched jaw. Samil found no outward signs of a budding user of magic, and he was unable to detect any sign of potential aura in the child, but she was too young for a full evaluation. Her ears are definitely similar to the ears of an elf. He searched deeper into her mind, bound and determined to find any link to magic. I’ve never seen ears of that shape in any Earthling. Emily had no shields, no defense. Searching through her surface memories for any images of elves, he encircled her with his power. He found no traces of the elven race in her psyche, but he did find a possible trace of blue magic used upon her in the past, but the trace was so fine that he was unsure.

  “I’m enchanted by her dainty pointed ears.” He tried to flash a kind and gentle smile, but he knew it was coming off dangerous and crooked. “Is she your natural born child?” He hoped to hide the rasp in his voice.

  “She’s our child,” Richard answered loudly with a deepening frown.

  Likely startled by the angry sound of her father’s voice, Emily awoke from her nap and lifted her chin. Her highchair was angled toward Samil, and her forest green eyes grew wide as she looked at him. Samil was shocked by the color of her irises. Her eyes are like little molten green magestones, he thought, just like the elves. Enhancing his mind probe, he bombarded her with his power, worried the family would leave before he found the answers he wanted. Methodically searching for any sign of Acacia, his magic flowed more rapidly into her defenseless brain as he delved down through the deepest scattered memories she had.

  Suddenly, she began to moan and cry. In a weak voice, she called out, “Help me, Ammolite!”

  “By the dragons,” Samil exclaimed in shock, “did your baby just talk?” Doubts began to swirl in his mind and his concerns made him shiver.

  Emily’s parents stared at each other wide-eyed. Richard spoke in a hushed voice to Jean, “that’s the first time I’ve heard her speak in a full sentence.”

  “She’s only six months,” Jean whispered back to Richard. She lifted Emily from the highchair and tried to comfort her, rocking her back and forth. “Babies don’t talk at this age.”

  Sam
il felt weak and confused and his head throbbed like blazes. He had used way too much energy and a terrible ache formed at the base of his skull, stabbing behind his eyes. I need to get home and recharge. He wanted to snatch the girl from her parents, but he felt too weak to do anything. His thoughts were muddled, and he was in a haze of increasing pain. Scowling at the Whaynes in a condescending manner, he wished he could complete his scan of the little girl’s mind in a more private location. However, he needed to get to his rejuvenators, his energy was too low. I’ll have Droth come back for her, he vowed. Attempting to suppress an uncomfortable feeling that intensified whenever he looked at the child, he finished off his drink in three giant gulps and threw down a hundred-dollar bill. This is a more unusual planet than I gave it credit for.

  “Your daughter’s one-of-kind,” Samil choked out to the Whaynes in a low voice while giving them a nasty glare. He continued deliberately to his mighty black motorcycle, squealing his tires before leaving in a cloud of burnt rubber. Could there be another portal besides my Prime? He raced in the direction of his lake house.

  Samil knew he should study the baby further to attempt to determine if her ears were just a variation of nature, but he was too drained. He was growing faint and he needed his rejuvenation. If there are elves on Earth, he thought, Droth will find them for me.

  Richard called over their waiter. “Who was that man?”

  Roberto frowned. “I know him only as Samil.” He refilled each of their glasses of tea. “He’s rude and arrogant … always riding that Tomahawk motorcycle like he rules the world.”

  Emily stared after Samil, whispering softly one more time, “Ammolite, help me.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Tai Chi

  Walk time, Xena encouraged Emily while sending sensations associated with a full bladder across their mind-link, Xena whipped her floppy ears back and forth in a powerful head rotation. She resembled a determined, dark windmill as she let Emily know she was ready to go outside with her body and mind. Emily, still half asleep, grunted and turned her back to her link. Xena reinforced her mental picture while flailing her ears once again with greater revolutions per second.

  Five more minutes, Z. I need to snooze just a little longer, Emily pleaded. I didn’t sleep well last night. During the time she had slept, she had dreamt about swords, conflict and danger without reprieve.

  Before she could drift back to sleep, a wet black nose was pushed upon her cheek. Walk time, Xena whispered again with a touch more force. Well aware of the effectiveness of her actions through their mental connection, Xena froze in this position letting the coldness take full effect. Emily knew that if she waited much longer, a third attack would occur, and Xena would begin to stretch her long body while prodding Emily with her sharp dagger-like nails.

  Okay, okay! Emily jumped out of bed with surprising speed now that she had made a decision. Let’s go for a walk.

  Xena could barely contain her rush of excitement. She was prancing and twirling around in joyous circles. Emily closed her eyes before going down the stairs and let Xena’s happiness and appreciation wash over her like a warm shower. A bondsmate link was a truly wonderful connection. She opened her eyes and dashed after Xena, studying her bondsmate in motion. The strong beast rippled with power, her muscles flexing under her shiny coat with an unusual balance of elegance and strength.

  “I’m taking Z for a walk!” Emily yelled to her parents.

  “I have something to show you when you return,” her father called back. At first, her parents had insisted that she keep Xena on her leash, but they quickly realized the amazing control that she had, and they quit requiring her to use a restraint. Emily threw open the front door to allow Xena outside, and she closed her eyes once again, delving into Xena’s mind, riding the waves of her excitement like a surfer.

  Don’t kill any birds, Emily warned.

  Where are those foul creatures? Xena teased. The large Doberman was scanning the area for any signs of her preferred prey. Almost every morning, a few foolish feathered birds would be searching through the thick green grass and expert landscaping in their front yard trying to find worms to eat.

  Someday they’ll wise up and attack you in a group, Emily warned Xena. This morning several grackles, a type of blackbird a little smaller than a crow or raven, were in the front yard, letting out a mixed series of rattles, squeaks, and whistles, looking somehow prehistoric as they pranced around with their long, keel-shaped tails.

  They aren’t that smart, Xena laughed while bounding forward.

  Xena was almost upon the grackles, when Emily again spoke to her bondsmate. I’m warning you, don’t hurt them, Z. Xena veered away at the last moment, making sure they were uninjured. Flapping and squawking, the grackles launched themselves into the air just out of reach of her powerful jaws.

  Close. Xena peered back at Emily with a teasing glint in her eye.

  Thank you, Emily thought begrudgingly to her mischievous bondsmate. Xena loped back to Emily and nuzzled her with her snout. She stared up at Emily with her warm doe-brown eyes and they both bathed in their shared mental love.

  I love you, but let’s not hurt those poor birds, Emily laughed. Xena snorted and went back to her scouting mission, knowing Emily was going to go through her morning tai chi.

  On a medical mission trip to China, Dr. D had fallen in love with tai chi. He had taught Emily that the discipline was based on an ancient Chinese martial art form that could enhance both one’s body and spirit, increasing mental focus, and reducing stress. The drills not only bolstered her strength and coordination, but also helped her with weapon training and defensive motions, teaching her the benefits of yielding to an attack rather than meeting it with brute force.

  Dr. D encouraged her to practice the tai chi daily as if she were practicing the piano or any instrument. Emily closed her eyes and allowed her breathing to slow until it was deep and steady. Performing her initial movements without haste, she allowed her body and mind to warm up. Once in a rhythm, she increased her movements to simulate an actual performance or a fighting situation. First, she worked on her hand routines, movement awareness, meditation, response drills, and self-defense techniques. Next, she flowed through warding-off and pushing away motions, downward strikes, plucking and splitting components. Emily felt her mind and body come into solid synchrony by the time her warm-up was complete.

  Xena finished playing and sat on her haunches watching the end of Emily’s routine. Let’s race, Xena urged, knowing by the patterns that the sequence was almost over. She sniffed the air, and through Xena’s nose Emily smelled earthy perfumes along with wispy hints of rose, sage, and oak.

  Catch me if you can, Emily taunted her bondsmate while taking off at a run. Xena hated to be left behind and she scrambled in a mad dash to get into the lead.

  As Emily ran, a black sports utility vehicle trailed her from a distance. Three men were attempting to be inconspicuous as they studied her. One of the men recorded her, while another scribbled in a notebook while watching her movements. They remained a fair distance from her, never triggering her internal ki.

  Danger’s in the air, Xena whispered, sniffing the wind as they ran. A low growl formed deep in her throat.

  Emily wondered if a visual threat would materialize this time. She studied her truly imposing beast, unable to imagine who would ever challenge her. Xena was all muscle and she weighed even more than Emily herself. The two breezed through the streets, turning corners perfectly in tune, and stopping at intersections in a synchronous manner. Sprinting through their morning run at an exceptional pace, Xena soon had her tongue hanging out. They walked the last street and cooled down while sitting side-by-side on the porch.

  I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary on our run, Emily began, what bothered you? She knew Dr. D had given her warnings, but nothing remotely dangerous had happened to her so far.

  I smelled something off, Xena whispered, someone was watching us … I just didn’t see them. Xena licked
Emily’s face lightly. I’ll protect you, she promised.

  Emily leaned into her bondsmate and massaged her ears while thoughts and feelings flashed across their link. The two sat in bliss, lost in the depths of their connection which was full of support and compassionate concern, completely oblivious to the vehicle that paused in front of their house before continuing down the street.

  Don’t forget, your father wanted to talk with you, Xena reminded Emily.

  Emily gave a final rub to Xena before standing and going inside. She found her father by the television in his favorite leather chair watching the Weather Channel. He was always fascinated by climatology and natural disasters. He sat up eagerly as she approached. “Look at this tropical storm. It’s a monster.” There was a thrill in his voice, and aside from his graying hair, he resembled a young child in his excitement. Tropical Storm Isaac is forming.” Emily studied the satellite images, impressed, but not to the same degree as her father. “It’s gaining strength,” he whispered. The colorful lights representing the storm’s wind-speeds spread across the radar in purples, pinks, and reds, slashing defiantly through the sky.

  Emily sat next to her father on the arm of his chair and watched with him. After a time, she stood and stretched. “I better go shower before my match.”

  Her father blinked. “I get too caught up in this weather,” he muttered to himself. He picked up the television controller to shut off the set. “Are you sure you want to do this fight today?”

  Emily smiled and squeezed his hand. “I know you want to protect me, but I love the competition and I love the fight. I just wish Delores wasn’t so mean.” She couldn’t tell her father that she adored learning to battle using her ki and that fighting with magic gave her an incredible rush. Her ki was an inner voice that was a mixture of her normal conscious intertwined with her magic to act as an advisor.

  “She’s as strong as a full-grown man,” he worried. Concern was etched into his features, but it was mixed with something softer—pride and love. “Watch her closely,” he advised in a gentle tone. Emily gave him a hug before showering.