Bluestone

by C E Johnson

  There’s more of them, Xena panted. Other clusters of gray riders began to approach from all sides.

  A cavalry, Emily groaned in horror while burying her heels further into her horse, allowing her ki to guide her path. She provided Xena’s mind with the information from her ki, sharing directions and warnings with her bondsmate, delving deeper and deeper into their link.

  Open your mind to me, Xena urged. Emily grasped at the benefits of her bondsmate’s senses, fully incorporating the sounds and sights of the growing danger surrounding them. Apache’s hoof beats thundered over the ground, striking on rock with staccato-clattering bursts that rang in her ears.

  Emily tried to block out the dread her pursuers were inducing and focus on the dangerous terrain. Cresting a small hill, she charged down into dense clusters of oak trees where she remembered a thin trail from previous rides. Mockingbirds were everywhere. They darted into the sky screeching at her approach, scolding her for the path she had chosen. Listening to the satisfying thuds of riders hitting branches and falling from horses behind her, Emily accelerated her pace.

  Rounding a last large oak tree and pushing her hair from her eyes, Emily emerged in a field only to confront a new group of riders standing next to their horses talking quietly. Instead of grays, this group was dressed in all black. They pointed at her while jumping into their saddles.

  This group appears different, Xena sounded confused. Emily angled away from this new adversary. Gray riders sprang into the field behind her and chaos ensued. Once the two groups viewed each other, weapons were exposed, and gunshots began to ring out.

  Droth’s mercenaries and the Blacksky agents have collided, Emily realized in horror. Although she had read about war and battles, Emily had never witnessed a dead body before. She stared at the blood trickling from a variety of injuries from wounded pursuers, her shell of blissful innocence shattering as dead and dying bodies began to fall to the ground.

  Focus on the goal, Xena roared in Emily’s mind. The skirmish intensified, and more wounded men in both black and gray continued to fall to the ground. Emily kept her head low, sorting through her feelings as she dashed toward the shelter of another cluster of trees. Her beautiful stallion was built for short bursts of speed, and she was challenging all of his abilities. Xena was dominating her thoughts, guiding her path, filtering her emotions. Instead of a building panic, she felt a new sense of calm descend over her mind.

  * * * Dysis * * *

  Dysis was alarmed by the sheer audacity of Droth’s team. She shook her head in disbelief. Attempting to kidnap Emily in broad daylight is incredibly reckless.

  Hadrian had gained some information from the agents Dysis had rendered unconscious during her previous battle by the Whayne’s home. Hadrian put the intelligence together with clues from Internet traffic to suggest the planned abduction on the Henry Ranch. Droth’s name did not fully register on the CIA database and there were few clues to his shadowy existence. The captured mercenaries had no idea what their employer’s ultimate plans were for Emily Whayne. They only knew she and her dog were both to be captured alive and then transferred to Droth for an incredible sum of money.

  Dysis rode at breakneck speed next to one of her top agents. She was a natural on horseback, always scoring extremely well on her riding competency sessions when qualifying for Blacksky advanced training. Hadrian demanded that all his high-level agents be well-versed in multiple weapons and methods of transit, including horseback. “I thought Droth would have remained hidden after his last failure,” she called over her shoulder to her sergeant.

  “To make a second attempt with a large team suggests a form of desperation … or supreme arrogance,” her agent said in agreement. He pointed over his shoulder, alerting Dysis to a group of gray mercenaries nearing their position.

  What do these men know about Emily Whayne? Dysis asked herself. Why do they want to capture her? She pulled a communication device out of one of her pockets speaking her orders in a breathless voice, “Send out all of our teams. We’re going to have our hands full.” Hadrian had sent her several additional teams of Blacksky agents. The FBI and CIA were also putting their own assets into this investigation and they were available. She put away her device and reached down to draw a rifle out of a holster on the side of her galloping horse. She calmed her mind and sighted her .308. Balancing on the running horse was difficult, but she was still deadly on horseback. Instead of going for kill shots, she strove to disable the enemy by aiming for arms and hands. Hadrian will be happy if I give him more men for interrogation.

  Emily came into view to the west of her position. Dysis found herself holding her breath as she watched the young girl expertly jump a fallen tree with her Doberman at her side. A mercenary attempted the same leap, but wasn’t successful, instead falling from his horse at the base of the tree. The mercenary was on his feet in seconds, aiming a weapon at Emily. Dysis sighted on him, and unloaded her clip, feeling an unusual satisfaction as he went down before he could fire on the fleeing girl.

  Why am I becoming so fond of my target? She wondered while analyzing the unusual feelings in her heart even as her horse thundered along. She hadn’t experienced thoughts like this on a job before. The overwhelmingly strong desire to help Emily Whayne was a strange form of attachment. Perhaps she reminds me of myself at that age, she reasoned, trying to justify her concerns.

  “Do you think Droth is on the battlefield?” her sergeant asked, waking her from her thoughts.

  “I hope so,” Dysis called out to him. She could see Emily wheeling her horse abruptly to avoid the awkward grab of a gray-garbed horseman and Dysis gasped in concern. Before he could snatch her from her saddle, the Doberman leapt and fastened her jaws on the man’s outstretched arm, yanking him to the ground. The girl’s composure was nothing more than miraculous during this conflict.

  The agent next to Dysis grunted, “She’s getting lucky, but there’s a lot of mercenaries out here.”

  Dysis glared at him, but he didn’t see her look. She didn’t even consider failure in her mission. She would save Emily Whayne.

  * * * Emily * * *

  Distressed by the growing number of participants, Emily kept glancing furtively around her. She was relying on Xena to keep her on a steady course toward the stables. A horseman dressed in gray crashed through the brush and trees to her side. Upon his approach, the pungent smell of acrid sweat flooded her mind from Xena’s nose. Before he could fire a tranquilizer at her, Xena was bearing down on him, snarling at his horse and causing an instant redirection.

  Go right! Xena roared in Emily’s mind.

  Emily instinctively jerked on her reins. Phhewt, sounded by her ear, and a dart imbedded its tip into a tree a foot from her left shoulder. She glanced back to see a different gray-jacketed man aiming one of their unusual guns at her.

  Dodge right. Duck. Dodge left her ki resounded in her ears as a secondary line of defense along with Xena, helping her to avoid injury every time a tranquilizer was fired in her direction. Time and again Xena rushed her attackers, snarling and snapping, only to fade back to move silently at her side.

  We’re getting close, Xena encouraged Emily. Two more fields and a ravine before we’re back.

  Emily had no idea of what would happen if she was able to return to Mr. Henry, but she was certain that Xena’s course was the one she should take. She crossed the next field and paused a moment to look back. The fighting was trailing off. The team dressed in black was forming a noose around the remaining gray soldiers. I bet the agents in black are with Blacksky, she thought to Xena.

  They seem to be protecting us, Xena observed with interest. The two turned away from the injuries and death and continued their mad dash. After what felt like forever, they reached the stables. Emily’s heart was hammering in a tremendous rhythm. Apache was well lathered and laboring to breathe. Xena remained at her side, also panting away. A huge storm was roiling in Emily’s brain, a churning conflict every bit as important and life-alterin
g as the battles she had just witnessed. She was dying to ride in, screaming to Mr. Henry and her mother about all the events she had just witnessed, calling for the police to tell them about the deaths and weapons, but something held her back—an image of Dr. D viewing her in the chair at his desk, hands clasped before him, evaluating her and making her think, really think.

  Think this through, Xena whispered through their mind-link.

  Emily took a deep breath and began sorting through her confused thoughts. How can I tell my mother that I just learned I’m from another world and that two groups are trying to take me away? She buried her head in her hands and let out a sob.

  Blacksky is likely connected to the government, Xena began thoughtfully. The police won’t be able to protect us if Blacksky decides to take us in with Dr. D. Emily knew Xena was right and she shook her head in growing dismay.

  I’m no longer safe on Earth, Z. We need to find the portal and try and follow Dr. D’s advice. Emily stared at Xena who sat on her haunches, eyes glistened intensely.

  If we go to Acacia we will draw the danger away from your family and friends, Xena added hopefully.

  We can find out more about my history. Emily considered the possibilities. If Blacksky doesn’t come for us first, I’ll read the next clues and try to find the gateway. She felt proud she had made a decision, but she fully realized she was still full of doubts. Riding forward hesitantly, Emily found Isabelle on Argos under a large oak tree pumping her fist in the sky and singing a song about being a champion when Emily arrived.

  “Nice race, Izzy,” Emily was trying to control her emotions. “You were a little off though on your second verse of that song about a princess.” She looked back over her shoulder toward the ravine, attempting to hide her trembling from her friend. “Let’s go home. I want to get out of here.” Storm clouds were forming, and the wind was picking up. A light rain began to fall, gentle and warm.

  Isabelle’s curls danced in the breeze as she laughed. “You know we have to take care of the horses, silly.” She started singing again softly. They both dismounted, and Emily walked her well-lathered horse by the lead, moving as fast as she could, trying not to focus on the fluttering of her heart. In a worried daze, she went through the motions of removing the tack and hurriedly grooming her horse. Outside, the rain was coming harder, pelting down from the gathering clouds.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay. I heard gunfire.” Veins were bulging in Mr. Henry’s flushed and red face. The underarms of his shirt were wet, and Emily could feel an anger building in him, tightening his mouth and hardening his eyes. “Maybe they’re using blanks out there, but even blanks can kill people. It’s illegal to fire live ammunition on my property, and I don’t want my favorite ladies getting hurt.” He peered in the direction of the ravine, ignoring a swirling rain that lashed at him through the open stable doors. “I knew something wasn’t right. Did you see anything strange?” He crossed his arms.

  “We saw a few groups of men on your horses, and I really didn’t like their riding form,” Isabelle answered teasingly. She gave Emily a wink and an easy smile. “They appeared so uptight.” Isabelle giggled happily. “However, they know fashion. They were dressed in nice matching gray jackets.” Thunder began to boom and crash over their heads, muffling any more gunshots.

  “They paid me so much money,” Mr. Henry whispered nervously, twirling the tips of his mustache, “but I agree with you. The majority were stuck up military types except for one female in the group … the horses liked her.”

  “What was her name?” Emily stammered. She was trying to hide the quavering in her voice though no one seemed to notice. Lightning flashed outside, crackling through the sky.

  He pulled a card out of the pocket of his shirt and glanced at it. “Ms. Dysis Hoshi.” He walked over to Apache and gently took away Emily’s grooming brush. “You look tired. Get out of here. I’ll finish cleaning up your horses.” He ran the brush along Apache’s flank. “I’m just glad nobody got hurt.”

  * * * Droth * * *

  Droth stood in the rain with Marcus, cursing his luck. Does it always rain when I have failure? he roared inwardly, looking to the heavens above. He had spared no expense on his ploy to capture Emily Whayne on the Henry horse ranch with unlimited funds at his disposal from selling Samil’s gemstones time and again.

  “If these mercenaries you’re hiring for the dirty work are the best you can find, you should bring across half-deads to capture her next time,” Marcus advised while smiling thinly. “These guys are horrible.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Droth shook his head in disgust. “By the dragons,” he cursed again. The communication device in his hand squawked and squealed before transmitting a peppering of gunshots. He tightened his grip on the com, squeezing it until it shorted out.

  “So, she out-rode everyone.” Marcus gave a whistle while staring down at a laptop that was interlaced into real-time satellite feeds. “She’s impressive.”

  Droth swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat as events continued to unfold. More Blacksky warriors and federal agents flooded onto the ranch in military vehicles to prevent the escape of his surviving mercenaries. Bodies were still being placed in vehicles and removed from the area. Droth slammed his fist into the computer in frustration; the metal twisted, and the screen went dark. “How could my army of earthly operatives fall short again?”

  “You’re running out of time,” Marcus reminded Droth in a sharp tone. “You have to be in Washington D.C. soon for the Project Blackbarb transaction.”

  “I don’t have time for another kidnapping attempt,” Droth said angrily as a sense of frustration filled him.

  “You certainly don’t want any more attention drawn to our organization.” Marcus frowned as he spoke. “Samil’s plan is too close to success.”

  Droth stared over the Texas hill country in frank disbelief. He would have to admit his defeat for now and leave the Doberman and Emily Whayne to the devices of the Blacksky team.

  * * * Emily * * *

  The girls’ mothers both arrived to pick up their young riders, and Emily couldn’t have gotten in her car faster. Once Isabelle was safely on the road, she gasped, “Please go quickly, Mom.” After watching the ranch disappear behind her, she let out a long sigh, closed her eyes, and leaned back into her seat. She was happy to finally have silence surrounding her ears that were still ringing from the gunshots.

  Danger is changing our way of life, Xena whispered sadly.

  Emily understood what Xena meant. She was already beginning to miss all that she once took for granted. Clouds were blotting out the sun, making the world a pale gray. Raindrops continued to fall from the sky exploding on her window, and rushing streamlets formed on the glass. Her life had become as confused and distorted as the appearance of the land hastening by her.

  “Luke called while you were out on your ride. He wanted to see if you were still coming to the last fencing practice tomorrow before you go back to school.” Her mother glanced at her with her eyes tight and worried, “Are you feeling sick? You’re really quiet.”

  “I’m okay.” Emily perked up a little when she heard about Luke and about fencing. “I’ll text him.” Dr. D had insisted that she start fencing when she was very young because he himself had studied the art when he was a child. Fencing depended more upon speed and agility than mere strength. Now, Emily began to wonder if his urge for her to train with steel had something to do with Acacia.

  Emily and Luke fought with a variety of weapons—light foils, sabers, and the epée, a heavier weapon. Luke competed in a variety of matches, and he had recently returned from a tournament in Houston, where he made the Youth World Championships.

  Emily was jealous that Luke could fight against so many different opponents. She was just as skilled as Luke, but Dr. D wouldn’t let her compete in the tournaments. He told her that he didn’t want her in the spotlight. If she was an all-star at too many sports, who knew what type of attention that might dr
aw.

  “Who’s winning lately when you fight Luke?” her mother asked.

  “It’s pretty even,” Emily answered truthfully.

  “It’s nice to have a boy you can compete with,” Jean said with a knowing smile.

  “Yeah, I like him.” Emily attempted to smile back, but it was tough to clear her mind. She was still picturing the dead and wounded in the battle on the Henry ranch. She fingered the slip of paper holding the next riddle:

  I am the keeper of sharp death.

  I am no stone, yet I blunt the most powerful blade.

  Emily was exhausted from the events of the day. They pulled into the garage, and she wearily slipped inside the house.

  Her father was watching the progression of Hurricane Isaac in the Caribbean. “How was your ride?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it, Dad.”

  Richard looked at his daughter with eyebrows raised. “Want to play a quick game of cards?”

  “Sure.” A simple game of cards with her father would be the perfect remedy for what ailed her. “That would be nice.” She knew he would pursue her with more questions. She was his only child after all, but at least she would be able to let her mind relax as she played—a welcome escape from all that was going on.

  CHAPTER 18

  Ullr and Wuldur

  Samil wasn’t at a loss for companionship. He had a wife and sons, but he still couldn’t get his mind off Maaca. Something about her confident beauty mixed with her deadly strength and undeniable intelligence attracted him like no other half-dead, like no other woman, ever had. “I wish I could have kept her with me,” he spoke with frustration.

  “Why didn’t you?” Lyall asked. Lyall was one of Samil’s most trusted half-dead captains and he was a were-wolf. Although he could transform into a man, Lyall usually remained in the form of an enormous wolf, as large as a tiger, with black eyes darker than sin. Were-creatures were made after a Mavet raa sucked the magus from a brown magician. Samil used Lyall as a body guard in the depths of his laboratory and as a high-level advisor.