Shift (The Pandorma Adventures Book 1)

by Mikaela Nicole

  “Sure thing Shiver,” Ryan says.

  I sit down so I can pull her into a hug. “We’ll come find you the minute this is over. Maybe you can head back the way we came? This place isn’t very safe.”

  “Will do,” she says determinedly. “I can hide in the willow forest.”

  I hug her one last time then stand up. Ryan sticks his hand out to me; I look in his eyes. They reflect my sadness. I slide my hand into his. A warm powerful feeling fills my heart as his fingers wrap around mine. My hand tingles and I feel safer than I have in years.

  I thought I had seen everything and wouldn’t be surprised by any other odd features on this planet. I shake my head; I had been wrong—really wrong. In front of us lay a barren desert, which isn’t odd in itself. It’s what’s happening to the desert that’s astonishing. The sand is moving. Not just moving, rolling like waves in the ocean. Not an inch of sand is motionless—all of it is tossing up and crashing down. Waving up and down or side to side like a snake is slithering beneath it.

  “Now, I’ve seen everything,” Ryan says with just as much incredulity as me.

  “That’s what I thought . . . now I don’t think I’ll ever believe that again.”

  “They’ll see us coming—from a mile away. We’ll be dead before we even have a chance.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I joke.

  “Right, I forgot you can fly.”

  “I can carry you,” I offer.

  “Thanks but last time you gave me a ride you dumped me on the ground. My neck was sore for almost two days.”

  “It wasn’t on purpose!”

  He raises an eyebrow. “U-huh.”

  “I promise I’ll be more careful this time.”

  “I’m sure you would be, but I’m capable of walking.”

  “Alright then—”

  We startle when an eagle overhead screeches. We race back under the cover of the pines before searching the pre-dawn sky. It’s clearly spotted us; we share a dismayed glance.

  “Assuming it’s going to warn Xavier, I’d say we have less than ten minutes to get across. Depending on how close we are to their hideout.”

  Ryan looks at me, a smile playing on his face. “Then we should run.”

  Despite the absurdity of trying to run, I feel a smile creeping on my lips as well. We emerge from the trees, pausing at the periphery of the desert.

  “Let's go,” I say but don’t move.

  “Ladies first?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Ryan steps onto the sand ocean. And disappears.

  “Ryan!”

  I stare at the place where he’d disappeared. There’s no point in calling his name, so I nervously chew the inside of my cheek. Well, better late than never. I spring as far onto the sandy ocean as I can. I’m immediately knocked off my feet. The sand rolls me around and around until a wave crashes over me. Seconds before I’m sucked under I gasp in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Sand fills my clothes, sloshes around in my ears and embeds itself in my nails as I desperately try to find my way up.

  It seems to take forever for the ocean to spit me out on top. I gulp in deep, precious breaths of air. Out of nowhere Ryan appears at my side.

  “You okay?” Ryan asks.

  “Yeah,” I gasp.

  We both release a cry of surprise as the ground violently rolls beneath us. In an instant I’m on my back Ryan on top. We continue circling around each other as the sandy waves carry us a ways before crashing with another wave. We get showered with sand and I can feel the sand below us being sucked under. I’m afraid we’ll get reeled beneath again, but Ryan grabs my waist, jerking me away from the suction and over it. We sit side-by-side, breathless, the sand incessantly billowing beneath us. Ryan knocks sand out of his ears and hair then squints into the distance. I follow his gaze and groan. It looks like there are miles of sand between us and the trees we’re heading for. We quickly scramble to our feet and jump over the wave approaching us. My knees buckle and I fall down. Ryan sits next to me.

  “It’s probably closer than it looks,” Ryan says.

  “At this pace we’ll be lucky to reach it today.”

  Ryan shrugs and looks around. He pats the sheath, making sure the sword is still inside. “Dang it. I lost the bow.”

  “Maybe it will turn up,” I say.

  Ryan doesn’t respond to this and instead says, “As long as we jump over the waves we should be fine.” He stumbles when he stands up.

  “It might be harder just staying on our feet.”

  The waves seem sudden, unlike the constant rolling of the ground, they just appear. But Ryan is right; after a wave crashes, the sand is sucked under and as long as we avoid being sucked under we are fine.

  Staggering and tripping we make our way across the sand ocean, all the while keeping alert for any danger heading our way.

  * * * *

  The moon is high above our heads, dripping down moonlight that splashes onto leaves and branches, which scatter it into hundreds of smaller beams. Again we are camped under woods, just without the fire. We sit side by side, our backs stiff against a tree. We didn’t make it across the desert before night, but we kept going anyways.

  Crack! Ryan springs to his feet, bow and arrow drawn and ready to taste blood. Nothing appears. Ryan sits, but keeps his sword ready. We had done a quick search around where Ryan had been spit out of the sand and thankfully we had found his bow drifting along.

  We are both on high alert, over alert. Our muscles are tense, we’re ready to spring into battle the moment a threat appears. I’m suspicious of every scent that drifts past my nose, every flicker of leaf or bush. We can’t sleep, won’t sleep. It could mean certain death. It boggles me that we’ve made it this far. Where are Xavier and Medusa? How come we’ve made it this far with relatively little difficulty? It makes me suspicious. Especially since we’re close to their hideout, very close. The air is thick with the hazard of danger and death. Everything is deadly silent; leaves and trees seem afraid to risk movement, a breeze doesn’t dare blow, smells don’t risk drifting too far lest they come under some punishment. Everything that is supposed to make a forest a forest is gone.

  Ryan points upward, asking if we should climb a tree. We’re afraid to speak. I shake my head. If we come under attack I want to be able to run or fight. If we climb a tree they could trap us and easily wait us out. No, a tree is out of the question.

  We argued—while crossing the desert—whether or not we should use the darkness to our advantage. Ryan said we should but I told him it wouldn’t matter. It would be dumb not to expect animals with night vision not to be on guard. Of course Ryan then countered that it’d be dumb to not at least try using the darkness and I’d relented, too tired to argue.

  Right now we’re taking a very short break. We’ve finished off the last of the food. I tried to eat slowly but ended up wolfing it down anyway.

  Ryan finishes his meat then stands; taking my hand in his he tugs me to my feet. I gently pull my hand away. Jaguar. It feels like an unfair advantage, but why not use the abilities I have? I glance at Ryan anyways. He doesn’t look at me, but his eyes hold no trace of emotion. We slip through the forest like phantoms. Skipping from darkness to darkness, evading the imperiling, slivery moonbeams.

  Lissa. Finally we reach the edge of the redwood forest, but I purse my lips at what lay before us. A field of knee-high ferns, which is fine, it's what’s behind the ferns that I don’t like. A fortress of mountains. On the left side a gigantic waterfall cascades down the front of a mountain, washing over rocks and splashing the moss-covered walls encasing it. The water tumbles into a jagged stream that heads toward the ocean. The mountains stretch from one end to the other, both sides ending at the ocean. So close to the edge of it, that it looks as if they are going to toss themselves into the deep water and continue the mountain range beneath the swirling white waves. The mountain is lush in vegetation, their sides chipped like someone started a sculpture but didn’t finish, leaving it to cr
umble and create a face all its own.

  “This is probably the point where normal people would turn around and say ‘we tried.’”

  “Unfortunately, we’re far from being normal people,” I say.

  Ryan smiles. “Normal is overrated anyway.”

  I stifle a laugh and turn to the fern field. We’re quickly losing darkness and every minute we stand here increases our chances of being spotted. Ryan surprises me by lying on the ground—the ferns completely mask him so I lay down also.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “You’re asking me?” I ask in surprise.

  “Why not? I thought girls liked being the one in charge.”

  “Some guys have problems with that.” Some guys meaning Trevor. He always likes taking the lead.

  “Not me.”

  I let out a soft snort in answer then carefully peak my head over the ticklish ferns. After meticulously scraping the mountain with my eyes, I spot movement. There are animals patrolling it, but they are too far away for me to distinguish what kind.

  “Heavily guarded,” I tell him.

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  I wait for a few minutes before continuing to watch the guard animals. Highly coordinated. Great. But with such a large space there has to be a weak spot, not even they could cover every place every minute. Don’t bet on it.

  The sun is beginning to crest from its sleeping place, spraying the sky with light pinks and oranges. I chew my lip. We’re running out of time.

  The sun grows higher. I’m watching the animals as best as I can, but the thick vegetation is providing them with perfect coverage, breaking up the paths they walk.

  “We should split,” Ryan whispers, breaking the silence.

  “Split?” I repeat dubiously.

  “I go back through the forest then head that way,” Ryan points right. “I come out, stumble around in confusion. When they try to capture me I fight, hopefully causing a huge uproar. Then while they're busy with me—you slip in unnoticed.”

  “What if they kill you on sight? Then what will I do?” I bite my tongue, not meaning to have let that last part slip out.

  “They won’t.”

  “And you’re so sure because?”

  “Because I might have vital information that they need. They know I was with you. And unless they’ve developed some kind of brain-sucking machine that works after I’m dead—then I’m pretty sure I’ll live.”

  I bite my lip, racking my brain for excuses, but coming up blank. “Alright,” I relent. “But you’d better come out of this alive.”

  A knowing smile spreads across Ryan’s face. “Really?”

  I blow away a fern that is tickling my nose. “Yes. We’ll need everybody we can get to help end this thing.”

  “But is that why you want me to come back?”

  I force myself not to squirm uncomfortably. “Let’s just get on with this before we’re spotted.”

  Ryan gives me his weapons then he leaves. I move back into the woods. I put the quiver strap over my shoulder only to remember I have on the backpack. I decide to take off the backpack and leave it. Except for carrying the seashells and healing water it’s of no use anymore. I give the seashells a regretful glance as I dig out the healing water and put it in my pocket, then store the backpack under a knot of roots and vegetation.

  I slip on the quiver, grab the bow and sword then quietly slip through the forest, heading toward the left side of the mountains.

  My pulse is beating an uneasy rhythm in my ears, but the anxiety isn’t for me. It’s for Ryan. Even though his reasoning is logical, I don’t trust that these guys will follow it. They could just as easily send out spies to retrieve the information they seek. They have absolutely no reason to keep him alive unless he has some secret that is unconditionally hard to obtain except through him.

  For Ryan’s sake, for Ryan’s life, I hope he does.

  Chapter 18

  The ruse works. I’ve hunched myself into a small cave veiled by vines on the side of the mountain. I close out the sounds of Ryan struggling with the guard animals. I know it’s fake, but it sounds too real. I don’t dare expose myself to check and make sure it's not real. If I get caught our plan will be ruined and I’ll be to blame—no matter how much Ryan would try to convince me it wasn’t my fault. So instead I bear listening to the harsh voices of the guards as they bicker over whether or not they should kill him instantly. I squeeze the handle of Ryan’s sword tighter. I wish I could give him his weapons back now. But I have to wait until we're both safely inside. If we get that far. I angle my head, intently listening as Ryan argues—to no avail—that he has valuable information and they should take him to Xavier right now because he has to get back before I suspect he’s been gone.

  Although my heightened hearing has given me the ability to overhear their conversation to some extent, it also feels like a curse at the moment. If they give the command to kill him, I’m just far enough away that I’d be too late to help; but not far enough away to not hear his anguished cry. Keep going before you’re found.

  I draw in a deep breath but can’t detect any traces of animals close by. I weave among vines; my side brushing off moss, small bits of dirt tumbling around my feet. I look up; above me is a very narrow, but open, ledge. I don’t bother thinking about it. They’re busy with Ryan and won’t notice me. I very carefully walk across the ledge. The ground keeps crumbling beneath my feet and I nearly slip off a few times.

  I swivel my head around at a sharp word behind me. The animals have thoroughly circled Ryan and are now leading him to the mountains. Hurry. I jump across the break in front of me. The thud of my feet hitting the ground sounds deafening. I pick up the pace.

  The ledge ends abruptly. Below are large, broad leaves growing on the side with large boulders springing up in between. Short cliffs break up the vegetation here and there. I throw Ryan’s sword and bow below then follow them down. Hunched under the leaves I quickly spot the weapons and grab them. I crawl on my hands and knees to the nearest cliff. At the bottom between the mountains are small dirt paths. Some are pockmarked with numerous prints of various animals. Ryan will be on one of these paths, along with his escorts. I swiftly scan all visible paths crisscrossing the mountains. I pick out one on the mountain opposite me. Creeping toward it on all fours I’m careful not to disturb the leaves too much. Stealthily I work my way down, instincts alone leading me in what I hope to be the right direction.

  * * * *

  I hold my breath. I’m at the bottom of the mountain. In order to reach the other side I have to risk being in plain sight. Surprise flutters in my chest as a moose clops past. Its hooves make dull thuds on the dirt. My breath hitches when I look at the moose’s hooves. A slicing metal has been attached to the edges, perfectly curving with the hoof; I glance at the antlers. They too have been reinforced with metal, the tips ending in a deadly point.

  My memory flickers back to when the female leopard had been chasing us through the treetops. She too had had metal on her claws. I’d thought nothing of it then, but now . . .

  I move back a bit and sit. I grab a fistful of dirt and crumble it while I think, watching the dirt sift through my fingers on its way back down. Cobalt told us that for the past few months the battles they’d been fighting in had suffered dramatic losses, the animals receiving fatal wounds and many dying from blood loss within seconds. This caused a lot of creatures to rethink fighting for Cobalt and quite a few of them have either joined Medusa or run off.

  When I’d asked Cobalt if she knew why the injuries were so much greater she’d said no. But the wry expression on her face had said otherwise. If Cobalt knew that Xavier’s army was bolstering their natural weapons with metal so as to inflict lethal wounds, why did she not mention that? And why aren’t the animals on our side outfitted with this weaponry as well? Surely if they can do it, so can we. So why aren’t we? Not that Cobalt specifically said they aren’t, but they pretty much stated that they aren’t. W
hich makes me wonder.

  Angrily I crush the rest of the dirt in my palm. Cuven knew as well. He was second in command; he would have to. He trained me with the thought of their metal-enforced weapons in mind, yet he too never bothered to mention this important piece of information. Maybe he was afraid to—Cobalt doesn’t seem to take disobedience lightly.

  I crouch instinctively when I see a shape move out of the corner of my eye. A mouse-brown rabbit. A strap wraps around the rabbit’s shoulder and underneath the other arm. Its body blocks the thing that is on the end of the strap. The rabbit stops and stands on its back paws, its nose twitching furiously. Although it is obvious that the rabbit belongs here, there is an underlying fear to it. Its black eyes flicker back and forth several times before it retreats onto all fours; it selects a path and begins mindfully hopping away.

  I narrow my eyes and consider following the rabbit. I shake my head. Wherever the bunny is headed can wait; I need to locate Ryan.

  As soon as the rabbit is out of sight I race across the open space to the other side. This mountain is covered in stunted trees that almost pass for bushes. I grumble to myself as I am forced to crawl on my knees to get through them effectively. Several animals pass by, but none look as if they are suspicious of a possible intruder, they rarely lift a nose to the air. I suspect it's because the air is thick with the mingled smells of creatures. They give off an air of security, of being positive nothing would ever dare invade their territory. And I’m glad for their overconfidence; it allows me to hide right under their noses.

  “Move along!”

  My spine stiffens as the sharp command reaches my ears. I’ve navigated my way across the mountainside and crossed over several other exposed paths. Weaving up and down sloping mountainsides, staying as out-of-sight as I possibly could, without losing the direction I believed Ryan would be in.

  I duck beneath some branches and peer through the leaves. The same animals are still guarding Ryan: a hyaenodon, two enteledont, a male lion, and a smoky gray wolf.

  I chew my bottom lip. I could rush at them; take them by surprise, and throw Ryan his sword. Maybe not throw it. I’m terrible when it comes to aiming and actually hitting my mark. I drop Ryan’s sword and bow and take off the quiver. Stegosaurus.