Legend's Awakening

by Jensine Odom

  “I guess we go back now,” Zebulon observes with a sarcastic note and shrugs.

  “We go across,” I banter, giving him a wolfish grin when his brows raise a little higher.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, not all of us can transform into mythical creatures and fly, which includes you, Xerxia,” Mary points out, with the tone of voice one uses on a child who obviously hasn’t thought their plan through.

  “I know, but they can.” I jab my thumb at all the Knights. “And you can carry us, right? At least across this rift?” I look between all the Knights to make sure.

  “Yes,” Caedryn answers, and shifts, but only partially.

  “Pick your pony,” I call over my shoulder as I leap into Caedryn’s outstretched arms.

  Mary steps tentatively next to Kerric, and Zebulon gives him a slightly jealous look as he partially shifts and picks her up.

  “Let’s do this, Bro,” Tristin yells, interrupting his brother’s glaring, and shifts to his full dragon. Before Zebulon can even respond, Tristin sweeps towards him, grasping him in his clawed hands, and flies haphazardly across the rift, narrowly missing squashing him in the landing.

  Even though I was confident going into this, my heart still gives a small jolt of doubt. I know Caedryn can hold my weight, but carrying me through the air might be a different story.

  Caedryn just smiles, though, and holds me tight against him. “Don’t worry, Xerxia, I won’t drop you,” he reassures me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Hold on to me.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and suddenly I’m weightless as the ground shrinks away. Caedryn beats his huge wings a few times, getting a slight lift from the updraft in the canyon, and before I know it, we’re touching back down to earth.

  Caedryn sets me softly back on my feet and I laugh breathlessly, exhilarated by the much too short flight. Mary’s face echoes the feeling in my heart, and Zebulon just looks happy she’s no longer in Kerric’s arms. Turhion, free of a burden, lands last, expertly quick-shifting the instant his feet hit the ground.

  “Nice trick, but shouldn’t you have brought Alarr?” I point to my draquus still on the opposite ledge.

  Turhion gives me a cocky smirk before Alarr’s voice rings in my mind. I do not need to be carried, he informs me, just the hint of a smile in his voice. With that, he leaps effortlessly across the gorge, landing neatly beside us.

  No running start, just a standing jump. Across the entire chasm. Could you have done that with me on your back? I ask, amazed at how easily I spoke with my mind.

  I am unsure, Alarr replies, and nuzzles my arm, his eyes glowing on contact. You are quickly growing stronger.

  That’s a good thing, I hope, I say lightheartedly, trying not to sound anxious.

  It simply means you will be transforming sooner than we had thought. Alarr assures me.

  When will I know when I’m about to transform?

  I would not know. The Knights will have more answers than I in that respect.

  I’ll ask Caedryn later. “Alright,” I say out loud, noticing everyone else milling around restlessly. “Are we ready to go?”

  “We’ve been ready to go,” Tristin replies.

  “We were just waiting for you to stop being a freak,” Zebulon quips, snickering with Tristin.

  “Then we’ll never leave,” Mary adds, and all three laugh when I glower at them.

  “You guys have fun with that. I’m going to the top of Candy Mountain.” I just shake my head and start walking, with Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric spreading out around me in a protective semi-circle.

  “Candy Mountain, Charlie,” Tristin cries, trotting after us.

  “Yeah, Candy Mountain,” Zebulon adds ecstatically, following his brother.

  “Oh my God!” Mary rolls her eyes and joins the parade. “You’re all freaks!”

  I turn around and beam at her. “Yep, but you know you love us!”

  ✽✽✽

  After a mile or so we reach the steep switchbacks that herald the last leg of our journey. Instead of wasting time on walking back and forth on the mind-numbing road we forge our own direct path, chaining together various trails through the forest and making up a few new ones when an established path isn’t available.

  The shadows grow long in the golden light of the slowly descending sun by the time we step out onto the dilapidated asphalt of the lower parking lot at the top of the mountain. The Sandia Crest outlook is gone, as is most of the Crest House, both having fallen down the mountain with the top parking lot. The radio towers are mostly gone, with only a few clinging literally by a thread, or in this case, a wire.

  We carefully make our way to the ledge, and what we find beyond takes my breath away. Albuquerque is gone. Swallowed by the very rift it sat upon for hundreds of years. On the far side sit the Three Sisters, active once again, spilling lava into the monstrous gorge.

  “Okay,” Zebulon drawls, breaking the stunned silence. “Now what?”

  I take a deep breath, turning away from the destruction. “We set up camp—the meadow near Kiwanis should do nicely—and in the morning we head back down the mountain.”

  Making Camp

  IT takes us a little less than half an hour to reach Kiwanis Cabin. Or what used to be Kiwanis Cabin. The little white rock building that once stood on the precipice overlooking the city below has met the same unfortunate fate as the rest of the west face of the Sandias, and now lies in ruins at the bottom of the rocky slopes.

  The meadow we’re aiming for is just down the hill from the outcrop. Zebulon and I set up the two tents we have, him taking the domed one and me the modern teepee, and Mary begins to collect firewood, getting help from Kerric. While we’re busy making camp, Caedryn and Turhion teach Tristin aerial maneuvers; spiraling, looping, and banking high overhead.

  “Ugh! There’s sand everywhere,” Zebulon complains loudly, smacking the sides of the tent he finally got up. “I wish we had a broom!”

  “You know what?” I ask, looking at the clumps of grasses around us. “We can make one.” I gather one of the larger clumps in one hand. “String,” I order like a surgeon, and hold my free hand out expectantly. A thin line of twine magically appears a moment later, and I secure the grass. “Knife.” Zebulon sticks the handle of his hunting knife in front of me, and I saw through the grass just below the twine. “Voila! A broom!” I wave the newly made tool triumphantly at Zebulon, and he snatches it, running off to his tent. “You’re welcome,” I call after him with a laugh.

  Once the tents are up, Zebulon joins Mary and Kerric in digging the fire pit and I head back to the rocky ledge that overlooks the new canyon two miles below, stretching from north to south for as far as I can see.

  I had hoped we could keep heading west, maybe stay in the Jemez mountains until I transformed, but that plan went out the window with this new world I watch. Now we’ll have to go somewhere else. The mountains to the south are out of the question. They’re too far away, and too near the Mountainair settlement. That leaves the mountains to the northeast, near where I’ve sent Alivia and Baldure.

  “What are you thinking?” Caedryn asks, landing beside me and shifting as Turhion and Tristin shoot past, diving down the steep mountain face and soaring over the desolate landscape below, fire billowing from their mouths.

  “Nothing,” I reply automatically, watching the two dragons glitter like gems amongst the ruins.

  “Nothing wouldn’t make you anxious,” he points out, drawing me into his arms. “Tell me what troubles you.”

  I sigh, melting into his warm embrace. “The only place we can go now is where I sent Alivia and Baldure.”

  “Where is that?”

  I turn from his arms and point to the mountain range in the northeast. “I sent them into the plains just below those mountains.” They seem so far away, but I know it’s not more than a two-day trip. I trace the landscape with my eyes, looking for our path, and get an idea. “We could skirt the backside of Thunder Mountain,” I draw a l
ine in the air, “and stick to the western sides of these two mountains,” I point to the two peaks behind Thunder volcano, “until we absolutely have to cross the plains. That should keep us away from anywhere Alivia and Baldure might be searching, and if we’re lucky, they’ll move off before we reach the plains.” I smile at Caedryn and lean back into his arms. “Thanks.”

  “Why are you thanking me?” he asks, sharing in my jubilation despite his confusion.

  “For getting me out of my head and helping me see the alternative.”

  “Then you’re welcome.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek, smiling softly. I kiss him soundly and he holds me tight against him.

  Tristin and Turhion shoot back up the mountain, buffeting Caedryn and me with the wind that whistles loudly off their wings, and my hair dances wildly around my face. They land in the meadow just beyond our campsite, Tristin tripping over his own feet and face planting in the grass.

  I laugh, taking Caedryn’s hand in mine. “Let’s go tell everyone else the plan.”

  Zebulon steps from the trees just as we reach the campsite and throws a long stick at me, the wood smoothed by time and etched with the twisting trails of insects.

  “Defend yourself,” he calls just as I catch it, and charges me, flailing his own wooden weapon. A loud crack sounds out as wood connects with wood, and we jump into our dance that has become habit since the beginning of the apocalypse.

  Between the flurry of blows I see Tristin grab more makeshift weapons from the edge of the forest and pass them out to Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric. He takes his own oversized stick and yells as he rushes to join the fight. I deflect Zebulon’s next hit, pushing him away long enough to snap my stick in half with surprising ease before Tristin swings for me.

  I duck the attack, swiping for his legs as I move. He jumps back just in time, then Zebulon takes a swipe at me. I deflect the blow, but Tristin takes advantage of my distraction and comes in with another attack, moving surprisingly fast. Right before it connects with my unguarded arm Caedryn joins the fray, twisting Tristin’s hit away and stepping in beside me to even the odds.

  Zebulon and Tristin have always fought well together, being brothers, but they have nothing on Caedryn and me. With our bond, we fight near flawlessly, always able to sense the other’s movements and intentions, making it impossible for Zebulon and Tristin to land a hit.

  For several moments there’s a flurry of attacks and blocks, filling the air with loud thuds as sticks collide; both teams fighting valiantly for the upper hand. Then there’s a sudden pain that shoots through my thigh, dropping me to my knee, and I roll away from Caedryn’s side to face Turhion. Zebulon’s already swinging at me, but Kerric blocks the hit.

  I get to my feet, spinning my twin sticks, and nod to Kerric. He takes on Zebulon, swinging furiously, and to my surprise Zebulon keeps up, even getting in a few good attacks himself. Without looking I block a swipe from Turhion, catching him by surprise, and we launch into our own duel.

  Unlike my brothers, or anyone we’ve ever encountered, Turhion’s a trained fighter, and I find myself struggling to simply defend against him, even with my two weapons to his one. I block one heavy swing from him with one stick, the force reverberating through my hand and arm, making me lose my grip on it and giving Turhion the chance to come back around and hit my thigh, dropping me once more.

  “Let go,” Turhion advises, kicking my discarded weapon back towards me. “Stop overthinking this. You have a warrior’s heart, let it guide you.”

  I take my weapon back up and shake off the knot in my leg, taking a deep breath, then face Turhion once more, nodding. He levels his large stick at me and launches into an attack, swiping down towards my shoulder. I parry and spin aside, kicking at his leg. He dodges, swiping back across, and I duck just under his stick, throwing myself into a low slide.

  Once again Turhion dodges, but that’s what I wanted. I pop back up and lunge for his hips, tackling him to the ground. Before he can process what just happened, I’m on top of him, pinning his arms beneath my legs and crossing my makeshift weapons on his throat.

  “Well done,” he praises, the excitement of battle dancing in his crystalline blue eyes, matching that in my heart.

  I nod and stand, letting Turhion up. “Again?” I discard my two short sticks and grab one long one, roughly the length of my bow, twirling it experimentally.

  Turhion stretches his limbs that were trapped by my knees, then takes up his weapon with a grin. “You won’t be so fortunate this time.”

  Without warning I launch into an attack, jumping at Turhion with an overhead swing. The crack from our weapons colliding rings through the trees as he blocks, surprised by my speed and strength. I immediately follow up with a low swipe, smacking his stick up and out of his hands, but he simply twirls aside, catching his weapon with a gloating smirk.

  Caedryn and Tristin roll by, wrestling each other in dragon form. Turhion thinks to take advantage of my distraction, swinging for my midsection, but I see him out the corner of my eye, catching his stick with mine and twisting it to the ground then following through with a swift kick to the hip.

  He stumbles forward and I move to capitalize, swinging back for his throat, but he rolls and leaps back to his feet, swiping for my back. I spin under his stick, clipping him in his leg as I go, then get a second hit on his ribs with the backswing.

  Turhion grunts with the impact and I move to finish him off with an uppercut, but he moves with a speed I didn’t expect and smacks my stick back down with force. I use the momentum to bring around the other end of my stick, hitting Turhion in the face and splitting his cheek just below his scar.

  “Oh Gods! I’m so sorry,” I cry as Turhion stares blankly, touching the blood now trickling down his face. “Let me heal you.”

  Turhion grabs my wrist just before I can touch him. “There’s no need. I’ll be healed by morning, if not by later this evening.”

  I quickly touch him with my other hand, catching him off guard, and the slice in his cheek vanishes a moment later with only the slightest twinge of pain on my end.

  “See? Better.” I pat his cheek, where only one scar remains, and step back.

  “Why did you do that?” He asks, gently touching where the cut had been a second ago. “I’m already indebted to you for saving my life. I can give you no more.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I don’t do this to get something. I do it because you’re a friend.” I smile sheepishly. “And because I’m the one who hurt you. I won’t be the reason you have another scar.”

  “Then, thank you,” Turhion replies, bowing slightly.

  “What’s going on?” Caedryn asks, walking up with Tristin, the both in human form again.

  “Xerxia just smacked the fuck out of Turhion,” Zebulon answers, making Tristin laugh. “Then healed him because she’s a weenie,” he adds, and Tristin goes into a fit of giggles.

  I just stick my tongue out at my brothers. “I got a little carried away in our sparring and hit Turhion. Because I hurt him, I healed him.” I lift one shoulder dismissively.

  “You injured him with a simple stick?” Caedryn asks, looking between Turhion and me.

  “Yes?” I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

  “Xerxia is getting stronger,” Turhion tells Caedryn as if giving a report.

  “I can see that,” Caedryn replies, sounding both happy and proud. “I think I will take the next spar with you, Xerxia; if you aren’t too exhausted after your bouts with Turhion.” He gives me a playful smirk, taunting me.

  “You’re on!” I kick my stick back up, catching it in mid-air and spinning it around me. It looks really flashy, until I hit myself in the back of the head. I laugh stupidly for a moment before raising my weapon. “Have at you!” Swinging my stick high overhead, I leap at Caedryn.

  Zebulon throws him a stick, and he brings it up just in time to block my attack, the collision of our weapons ringing like thunder. Then I realize it was real t
hunder as another lightning bolt strikes the far end of the meadow, which isn’t that far.

  The crack of thunder drops me to my knees, every hair on my body standing from the electric charge in the sky. Where the hell did a thunderstorm come from? It wasn’t even cloudy just a moment ago!

  Lightning streaks across the sky, forking through the clouds, and two giant eagles appear, each roughly the size of a dragon. Their feathers glint silver in the lightning that dances around them, and thunder sounds with every beat of their wings.

  The larger of the pair sweeps down low over our camp, coming close enough for me to see the lightning flash in its turquoise eyes before flying back up to join its partner in circling our camp, blowing out our young fire with one beat of its wings.

  “Really?!” Mary yells after it, rushing to relight the logs before they cool too much.

  Tristin and Turhion step out to shift, prepared to defend me and our camp.

  “No,” Caedryn commands, stopping them in their tracks with the tone in his voice. “They won’t hurt us if we remain in human form.”

  “What are they?” Kerric asks.

  “Thunderbirds,” I answer in unison with Caedryn, watching with awe as the two magnificent creatures spiral above us.

  “How do you know what Thunderbirds are?” Caedryn asks me, looking surprised.

  “I read your mind.” I laugh at the horror that crosses his face. “Just kidding. I know about a lot of myths. Myths that aren’t so mythical, it would seem.” I flash a smile at Caedryn. “Wait. How do you know about Thunderbirds?”

  “When Alarr and I first arrived in this land, I didn’t go immediately dormant. In that time, I had several encounters with Thunderbirds and learned quickly they do not appreciate dragons. We too closely resemble the Horned Serpents they govern. They have a somewhat primitive version of the relationship we share with the draquus. Once I learned that, we coexisted in peace.”