Shifting (The Prophecy, The Spy, and The Ghostly Guardian) (A Fated Fantasy Quest Adventure Book 2)

by Humphrey - D'aigle Rachel

  “Jae, what does your mother mean when she says her zone?” asked Colin.

  “Each member of the Svoda Liberation Committee, the SLC, belongs to a specific zone; it goes by where you live. I think we have nine zones here, so about fifteen people or so in each zone.”

  “You said the SLC is an initiated Svoda thing?” questioned Meghan.

  “Yeah, they attend meetings every week with other zone members, to keep up with news, announcements, work on ways to get us back home, stuff like that.” They reached the Mochrie cottage. “Boring adult stuff,” he added with a yawn.

  “I am full and tired,” said Meghan, yawning with him. “I think I might take a nap and change.”

  “Don’t wrinkle your clothes,” giggled Mireya, dancing in circles. “You’ll want to wear them again later.”

  “What’s happening later?”

  “The story of the real Thanksgiving,” she answered, dancing her way upstairs.

  “Oh, right,” said the twins, in unison.

  “You said our history has the story wrong,” recalled Colin. Jae was about to speak when another voice broke in.

  “It’s the Retelling Festival.” Ivan Crane had said it. He’d just come up behind them. “It’s a very interesting and informative event,” he boasted.

  “Great,” teased Colin. “You’ll have lost my sister’s attention. She doesn’t go for interesting. Or informative.”

  Meghan was not given the chance to defend herself. Ivan let out a harsh breath.

  “Why would I give your sister my attention? She seems to have more than enough to go around.”

  Everyone froze at Ivan’s icy reply, but none more so than Meghan, who stood in complete awed silence.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  An hour later, Irving Mochrie announced it was time to depart for the Retelling Festival. Meghan still fumed over Ivan’s insult, and was not even close to blocking her thoughts from Colin.

  “Me, need attention? I’m simply trying to fit in, and show people I’m not afraid. I do not need attention. Where does he get off?”

  The ranting continued until finally, they arrived at the pathway leading to the festival. Magnificently carved pumpkins and old looking lanterns lined the pathway. Candles flickered inside to light the way. Some sat on the ground. Some hung overhead. Some were pitched on spikes, hammered into the ground. It cast a warm, hazy glow around them all. But it did nothing to soothe Meghan’s temper.

  A short distance later, they arrived at an outdoor amphitheater. Irving and Sheila directed them to sit near the middle. A roped off section ran across the first row.

  “Two guesses who sits there,” said Colin, hoping to avoid Garner’s cold stares.

  “They do like to make a grand entrance,” whispered Mireya. Sheila gave her a stern look, indicating that wasn’t nice, but then joined with her daughter in a giggle, realizing it was true.

  “Think the drink’s still got our mom,” said Jae, as the twins got seated next to him.

  One good thing, Meghan decided; Jae was a lot happier and she hadn’t had any more frightening visions of him lately. To her complete dismay, this thought was instantly followed by Ivan Crane plunking down stubbornly in the seat next to her. He forced an irritated grin on his face and turned away, to look anywhere else.

  Colin wondered why he did it. He looked just as miserable as Meghan.

  She sat with her nose in the air, thinking, two can play this game. I wonder if he is aware of how unlikeable he is. I mean, is he trying to piss me off, on purpose? Or is it just a natural talent?

  “I wouldn’t take it personal, Sis,” Colin sent to her. “Ivan doesn’t appear to like anyone. Much.”

  Meghan, for some reason, found her brother funny and laughed, loudly. Her steaming animosity melted, and Ivan made an obvious point to converse with one of the Jackal sisters, sitting in the row behind them.

  Meghan looked around, unsure what everyone was so excited about; listening to a speech was not her idea of fun. She hated to admit it, but interesting and informative, was not her thing.

  A man came onto the stage. His voice reverberated clearly through the amphitheater.

  “Welcome, welcome, the Retelling will begin shortly, please be seated.” He jumped off the stage and took a seat a few rows in.

  After the announcement, Juliska Blackwell arrived in high fashion, wearing a woolen, but sleek, form fitting long coat, with streaks of black and deep red. At her sides were the same two Balaton that had been guarding the gate the day Meghan had gone to visit.

  “Juliska rarely goes anywhere without those two. The Wandrer brothers,” explained Jae. “They’re the last in their family line. The one on the left is Jenner, and the one on the right is Jelen. Real tough men, don’t want to piss off that crew.”

  Meghan smiled slyly as she’d already met them. The Banon’s perceptive gaze swept across their row and landed on Meghan. Colin wasn’t certain, but he could have sworn Juliska winked at his sister. Meghan returned the gesture with a tug at her lip, and by lowering her head to hide her smile.

  Colin watched Juliska smile wider, her gaze landing on the seat next to his sister. Not on him, but on Ivan. He nodded at the Banon, in a polite, distant greeting. She nodded back, a pleased look on her face.

  Why? What was this all about? Why was she so happy to see Ivan sitting next to Meghan? Colin scowled. He didn’t like it. He didn’t even know what he didn’t like, but something about their silent interaction felt off. Why could his sister not see this? Oh, right. Because she was too blinded by some strange motherly infatuation with this woman.

  The Banon took her seat and right after, the Viancourt members entered, along with their families. Garner wore a flamboyant coat that was so thick he could barely take his seat. It wasn’t one the twins had seen before, but just as ridiculous looking. He’d smoothed out the spikes in his hair and slicked it back. His wife, Ravana, was simply, but elegantly dressed and took the seat by his side. At first glance, one would think her thin and frail, but to inspect her more closely, her features were strong. Her gaze tenacious. She carried herself as if she held some high position of rank that required the respect of everyone around her. Almost more so than the Banon herself.

  They heard a snicker and Billie Sadorus muttering behind them. “Leave it to my brother to outdo Juliska Blackwell, the queen of entrances… bothersome pig.”

  The twins and Jae tried not to laugh, and Meghan noticed from the corner of her eye, that even Ivan, the cold-hearted wonder, cracked a small resemblance of a smile.

  Tanzea Chase entered alone, using a cane to help push herself along. She wore a drab looking jacket that looked so old the twins swore they could smell mothballs way back in their seats.

  She was followed by Darius Hadrian and his wife, Hannelore. No one gave them much mind. They were simply dressed, and completely lacked any defining, standout features at all. They were almost the exact opposite of Garner and his wife, taking the route of blending in, almost to the point of being able to just disappear amongst a crowd.

  What followed behind them however…

  Their daughter, Dulcy, and clung to her arm, her wiser and fiercer counterpart, Darcy Scraggs. She waved up at the twins with friend-faked enthusiasm. She let go of Dulcy and tapped at her wrist. She wasn’t wearing a watch, but the twins got the point. Darcy still expected them to hand over the Magicante.

  Meghan, Colin, and Jae cast each other quick wary glances.

  Ivan caught them. He peered back and forth between Darcy and them, an inquisitive look swimming in his eyes. But he said nothing, or asked nothing.

  Someone doused the lights. Darkness descended around them. The crowd was instantly still and quiet. A single spot light shimmered on the stage, where a young boy sat on a chair.

  He grinned. It was hard not to smile in return. Even with a missing tooth, he was elated to be on the stage. He spoke in a young, charming manner, with a slight lisp because of the gap in his teeth.

  “Welcom
e to the Retelling Festival. The story of our journey to the Bedgewood Isles.”

  Squeals of excitement raced through the audience.

  Meghan and Colin gasped. The stone seats in the amphitheater started to shift, tilting backwards so they were gazing upward at the sky.

  “I love that part,” said Jae, with a chuckle.

  “A little warning would have been nice,” grumbled Meghan.

  Colin was too enthralled to care.

  A voice began speaking. It was not the little boy, but that of an experienced storyteller.

  “That’s Balloch Flummer, owns the bookstore,” whispered Jae.

  “The voyage was underway,” Balloch started. “Three ships across a vast ocean: the Freedom, the Malden, and the Albion.”

  The night sky lit up with silhouettes of three ghostly looking ships, floating across as if sailing through the stars.

  “These great ships held a people with hope in their hearts as they sailed to a new world, waiting across the great Atlantic.”

  The audience cheered madly as a ghostly crew worked the ships.

  “We’re watching a movie,” sent Meghan to her brother. “On, like, the biggest screen ever!”

  “Finally, a history lesson even you can handle.”

  She did not reply to his retort, and watched the sky as the narrator continued.

  “Our ships sailed for many days when a rainless storm erupted from the depths of the ocean.” As he spoke, the scene in the sky changed; the ships began to rock violently with wind and waves ravaging them.

  “Our magic began to weaken and the protection surrounding the great ships failed.”

  A massive eruption took place in the sky; the magical field that surrounded the ships dissolved. “As our protection failed and our magic weakened, we were hunted by ancient enemies.”

  Two gigantic birds, with wingspans as wide as a ship, soared into the sky, and boos wafted through the attentive Svoda crowd below.

  “The Shrieker birds shrill cries alerted their allies that the hunt for our ships was over, and thus, the battle began. The Freedom, the largest of the three ships, was the first to fall under attack. Their enemy came from below the water.”

  The sky changed again. Underneath the ship Freedom, two great snake-like heads emerged, one on each side of the ships hull.

  “The Freedom’s crew fought the beast. However, the weakening spells of the crew were no match for the Amphivena’s knife-like scales and tailless body.”

  Overhead, the Amphivena tied its heads together, wrapping itself around the ship, preparing to crush the mighty hull.

  “While the Freedom fought,” Balloch spoke on, “the second ship, the Malden, was assaulted by the Salt Spiders, the crawlers of the sea.”

  Hairless, web-legged fiends the color of the ocean began hurtling themselves on board the ship. Lying flat, the salt spiders looked like malevolent doilies skimming the water’s surface; jagged harpoons covered their thin legs, ready to launch at their enemies.

  “The Freedom and the Malden remained under heavy attack,” continued the Retelling. “Two were already dead on the Freedom, and one crew member had been knocked overboard on the Malden, only to be viciously murdered by the Salt Spiders.”

  The audience’s attention was given to the third boat, so the twins joined, assuming that the Albion was next. The voice began again as the battle raged on overhead.

  “The Albion watched helplessly as their sister ships were assaulted, and kept watch around their own ship, waiting for what was inevitably to come.”

  The great ship Albion lurched upward with no warning, its hull nearly cracking under the pressure of the movement. A voice echoed down out of the sky, from one of the crewmembers on the ship. “We’re being hit from below! They’ll tear us to shreds.”

  “Surfacing under the Albion were the Slopikes,” explained Balloch, “whose jagged spikes impaled the wooden ship. Their shells are indestructible. No spell can penetrate them.”

  The Slopikes were a slow but deadly force. The scene in the sky was chaos; three ships in great peril. The Shrieker Birds dove between the ships, knocking people overboard, where they would meet their doom, if not by the raging water itself, by the Amphivena, Salt Spiders, or the Slopikes.

  “Exhausted and losing faith, the ships and their crews resorted to their final energy reserves: belts stocked with potions and stored magic. When all hope seemed lost, the raging winds subsided. The waves stopped crashing and the rainless storm dissolved, replaced by precious calm. Whatever magic was used to create the storm had weakened, unable to hold its spell any longer. Without the storm absorbing all the magical energy around them, the crew found their strength renewed.”

  The audience cheered on the ground below.

  “With great effort and sacrifice, they began regaining control of their ships. Three men and two women on board the Freedom attacked the Amphivena together, shooting a spell that would cause any normal man to wither and die. The crushing beast released its grip on the ship and faded into the depths of the ocean. The Freedom raced to the aid of the nearby Malden, infested with Salt Spiders. Many people on board had been captured and rendered helpless, having been bound in seaweed-like cocoons. With no known spell to repel the spiders, the enemy began claiming the Freedom as well.”

  Balloch Flummer paused, beginning again in a lowered, dramatic voice.

  “In our most dire moment, a young man fighting on the Freedom found himself backed into a corner with nowhere to hide. The spider launched a harpoon at the young man, missing him, but breaking open a barrel of fresh drinking water, washing away the salt water on the ship’s deck. The spider recoiled, clearly in pain. Realizing instantly what this meant, the young man ran through the ship shouting, ‘Fresh water! Use fresh water!’”

  Balloch’s voice rang exuberantly as he continued.

  “With hope returned, cries of Viridatas, the spell to turn salt water into fresh, were overheard by the nearby Malden and they urgently began to do the same. Soon, they forced the Salt Spiders back into the ocean, their webbed legs spinning their way across the calming waters. The cocoons were cut down and the people freed.”

  The audience shouted cheers at the sky.

  “One ship remained under attack,” the storyteller reminded. “The Albion. The Shriekers, seeing their allies fail, broke off their attack, soaring into the rising sun. No longer hearing the birds call, the Slopikes ended their rampage on the Albion, and swam into the depths. The damage to the Albion was severe. Half the ship remained under water. The great ship was lost. Sinking.”

  The narrator took a break from speaking and the scene in the night sky changed to the Freedom and the Malden racing to aid the sinking Albion.

  “The Albion knew their beloved ship was lost. The Freedom and Malden approached, lowering their boats to save the remaining passengers of the Albion, whose own boats had already been released into the waters - boats which were nowhere to be found.”

  Balloch paused in somber remembrance before his lamentation continued.

  “The Albion sank, taking twenty souls who lost their lives during the battle, down to the depths with her.”

  The audience went quiet, except for the sniffles of saddened Svoda. The narrator began again and the scene above changed.

  “The two remaining ships searched in vain for the four boats released from the Albion. It was believed they carried over sixty survivors. They found no sign that the boats had survived the battle, and after the third day… the search was called off.”

  The storyteller’s voice broke up as he continued.

  “A mass funeral was held in respect for those lost during the battle. Four hundred and forty-four remained alive, with over a hundred missing and presumed dead.”

  A long minute of silence took place as the Svoda paid their respects to their brave ancestors. Then, the scene above morphed from gloomy darkness to brightly sunlit skies, and the remaining ships sailed onward to their new home.

  “What
do you think so far, Sis?” asked Colin, overwhelmed by the story.

  “I can’t believe we’re sitting outside under the sky, watching an action packed movie.” She instantly sensed Colin’s anger rising. “Don’t worry, Col, I get the point. I just don’t understand why they’d want to relive such a depressing story, year after year.”

  They tuned into the narrator.

  “The Freedom and the Malden arrived at their new home eight days later, battered and beaten, but not broken. A few settlers, who had arrived months before, waited on shore, alongside our Native American allies, the Tunkapog.”

  “Now you had to hear that!” exclaimed Colin loudly into her mind.

  “Tunkapog. Did he say Tunkapog? Kanda is a Tunkapog,” was all Meghan could manage to send back.

  “The arrival was bittersweet,” the story continued. “The two arriving ships made port, and the crew explained their nightmarish journey. The arriving settlers dauntingly moved into their new homes. Homes built by those that had arrived before them, along with the aid of the Tunkapog, who remain to this day, one of our greatest and longest allies.”

  “Okay, this is too much,” said Meghan, accidentally aloud. She instantly tried to shrink in her stone seat as glares and shushing ensued, including an extremely rotten look from Ivan Crane. But she couldn’t easily explain it was shock, not disdain or boredom that caused her outburst.

  After the crowd turned their attention back toward the skies, Colin sent her, “Good one, Sis. Does this mean Kanda knew the Svoda? Did she know we were from a magical family?”

  Meghan did not reply.

  The story drew them back in.

  “By the end of the first day the ships were emptied. The Tunkapog set out to prepare a feast for the weary travelers. Their knowledge of herbs and flowers not only tasted magnificent after the mundane foods of the journey, but eased the settlers’ pain, too.”