The Chronicles of Trellah, Book One: The Perpetual Rain

by T. S. Graham

  Then, something unexpected happened. Instead of attacking again, the vrahkole took a measured step forward. It looked deep into Mrs. Tanner eyes, then leaned in and sniffed her injured cheek. When finished, the terrible monster bowed its head at her feet.

  “It has conceded defeat,” said Talfore in utter disbelief. “Our code requires that you provide it an honorable death.”

  Mrs. Tanner stepped aside, giving the vrahkole an unobstructed path to its waiting grahdor. When it realized it was being set free, it glared up at her with furious eyes and growled in displeasure.

  “It is the way of our world,” Talfore appealed. “You are the only one who can give it what it desires.”

  “It may be the way of your world, but it’s not the way of mine,” Mrs. Tanner countered.

  The vrahkole hesitated, and then slunk morosely toward its grahdor. It spied Sophina as it passed the driftwood—and stopped dead in its tracks.

  A powerful feeling of déjà vu swept over Sophina as she stared into the vrahkole’s arresting eyes. This wasn’t the first time she had seen them.

  “It was you,” she said, breathless with rage. But before her mind could figure out what to do next, the vrahkole leapt onto the grahdor’s back and snapped the reins. With a beat of its enormous wings, the grahdor soared high above the lake. It then flew toward Mount Vahkar, ascending to dizzying heights as it went.

  “I do not understand,” Talfore uttered as the grahdor vanished into the mist of the waterfall. “Vrahkoles always fight to the death.”

  “There is a reason our weapons are forged from the bones of vrahkoles,” added Jantu with spite. “They are difficult to destroy—inside and out! Only a fool would refuse to kill one when given the chance!” He called Tahra to his shoulder with an angry click and strode away along the beach.

  “We must go now,” Talfore instructed. “The vrahkoles will still expect us to approach from the west. If we move far enough to the east, we might fool them into thinking we turned back.”

  The sun-baked swath of sand they followed was wide enough that Sophina could stop worrying about what lurked in the swamp, allowing her to focus on other things—like how upset she was at Mrs. Tanner for setting the vrahkole free.

  “Why did you let it go?” she asked. “That was the same monster that kidnapped Eliot!”

  Mrs. Tanner stopped and turned to Sophina.

  “Are you sure it was the exact one?”

  “Yes! It froze when it saw me. It knew who I was!”

  “I’m so sorry, Sophina,” Mrs. Tanner said as they began to trudge forward again. “But even if I had known that, I still would’ve set it free.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not for me to decide who—or what—should live or die. And besides, it was gathering food for the children. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  Sophina’s left hand started to tingle, and a strange and uncomfortable aura came over her. It was like she was listening to Mrs. Tanner from underwater, yet her emotions were sharper than ever. In fact, her anger had suddenly blossomed into full-on rage.

  “No! We’re going to save them—so who cares if they don’t eat some nasty fish!” Sophina snapped back. “The vrahkoles are the ones who started this! What if it changes its mind and kills Eliot instead of feeding him? How would you feel then?”

  “I told you, they’d risk harm to themselves if they tried to hurt the children,” Mrs. Tanner reiterated. “You saw how powerless it was against me. It’s far more likely that they’ll continue to use the drahtuah to control the children’s minds.”

  “There’s a necrah up there, remember? It can kill the kids with one touch!”

  This time, Talfore and Jantu stopped at the sound of Sophina’s harsh voice. She knew that she was being irrational, but the venom inside of her just had to come out, or it would eat her alive.

  “I would’ve ripped its ugly head off!”

  Mrs. Tanner stepped back and turned to Talfore and Jantu. “Go ahead,” she told them. “We’ll catch up.”

  When their guides were out of earshot, Mrs. Tanner turned back to Sophina. “Sophina, are you okay? I understand your anger, but I think you’re being a bit extreme.”

  “I’m fine,” muttered Sophina. “I just don’t know why you ignored Talfore and Jantu. They wanted to kill it. You should’ve listened to them.”

  “My decision was based on more than me not wanting to play God,” Mrs. Tanner explained. “What if the Elders are right and the vrahkoles aren’t capable of orchestrating all of this? What if something else is at work here—and the vrahkoles are merely being used as pawns?”

  “How can you say that? I saw that monster take Eliot!” Sophina reminded her.

  “I understand that, but things aren’t always as simple as they seem. How would you have felt if I’d killed that creature, and then we found out that it wasn’t responsible?”

  “I’d feel fine—because it would still be evil!”

  “The Sophina I knew would never say that without knowing all the facts.”

  “Yeah, well, the Mrs. Tanner I knew would never risk my brother’s life because of some stupid hunch,” Sophina sniped back.

  Judging from the look on her face, Mrs. Tanner was wounded by Sophina’s cruel tone. Still, she did her best to calm the situation.

  “Sophina, I can’t pretend to know how difficult this is for you; at least I woke up yesterday knowing what lay ahead of me. But, please, try to remember that I’m here to help you. I just did what I thought was right.”

  “Shouldn’t you get walking?” Sophina hissed. “Don’t worry about me—I won’t fall too far behind.”

  Mrs. Tanner looked like she wanted to say more but thought better of it. Instead, she turned and followed Talfore and Jantu, who had already trekked a fair distance toward the lake’s eastern shore.

  Sophina’s boots sank into the green sand as she followed, careful to stay far enough back to keep Mrs. Tanner from seeing the tears in her eyes. Mrs. Tanner was right, of course; she didn’t know enough about the situation to be making any assumptions—and she was upset with herself for having lashed out for no real reason.

  What had come over her? The tingling in her left hand had subsided, along with the aura of nastiness that had descended upon her like a cold fog, but her emotions were still in hyper-drive. Perhaps she wasn’t as close to forgiving Mrs. Tanner as she’d thought. But that alone couldn’t explain her behavior . . . could it? It’s not like she had experienced anything like this before. Who’s to say what kind of reaction would be normal.

  It isn’t normal, Sophina decided. Something happened to you back there—something that made you act like a complete moron.

  What that something was she didn’t know, but one thing was certain: She had to get her head on straight before she struck up any more conversations.

  * * *

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Gail Murray flinched at the sound of Cathy Deering’s shrill voice. She had just taken Cathy by the arm to help her get up after she’d stumbled over a rock, and was taken aback by the rebuke she received.

  “I’m sorry,” apologized Cathy immediately. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.” At least, that’s what Gail thought she said. It wasn’t easy deciphering Cathy’s words through all the heavy sobs.

  The she Cathy was referring to was her seven-year-old daughter, Wendy, who had gone missing around the same time as Eliot. Gail understood the passion behind Cathy’s outburst, for she’d also had an impulse to scream at anyone who’d gotten in her way during the past two hours—the amount of time that had passed since the parents of the missing children had splintered off from the police-led search team to hunt as their own unit. The difference was that she had stopped herself.

  Since the parent alliance had formed, not ten minutes had gone by without some kind of altercation occurring. Rob Brighton, the father of nine-year-old Seth, the other boy who had vanished, had raised his voice at Gail when they’d accidentally bumpe
d shoulders. Bill Deering, Wendy’s father, didn’t hear the exchange because he was lagging behind, stewing over a tiff that had taken place earlier between himself and Rob, during which he’d felt Rob had implied that finding Seth was more important than finding Wendy. They were supposed to be supporting each other, but the exact opposite was happening.

  This isn’t working, Gail told herself, and you need to be the first spoke to snap off this broken wheel. You’ll search faster and smarter on your own.

  She strode off without saying a word. The group had been working their way down Osprey Road toward Greystone Harbor, but what was the point? When they got there they’d just have to turn back and retrace their steps. She wanted to target the spots where the most people had congregated. Those were the places Sophina would take Eliot if she found him.

  Minutes later, Gail opened the front door of the old Grange Hall. The hall’s owner, Greg Harris, saw her and hurried over to inquire if she’d had any luck. She explained the situation quickly and moved on; there was no time to waste. A dozen people were gathered around the stone fireplace, which radiated light and warmth throughout the room. Dozens more stood at a refreshments table that had been set up in the center of the hall. She spoke to everyone that she knew and some she didn’t, but no one had seen her children. She tried to remain calm, knowing that her kids had to be somewhere within the borders of their town. She just had to find out where.

  Greg tried to convince her to stay, but she had made up her mind to leave. She had one foot through the door when someone called out: “Excuse me . . . Mrs. Murray?”

  It was a familiar voice, and she turned to find Spike Branson striding toward her with a painted-on smile.

  “I’m Spike Branson, Channel 6 News.”

  “I know who you are.”

  “Of course. . . . I heard about your son and daughter. I’m doing a story on what Thomasville is like now that it’s been cut off from civilization. I’d like to put you in front of the camera. Nothing captures viewers like a story of a mom who has lost her k—”

  “Is that what this is to you—a story?” Gail interrupted.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” Spike claimed. “I was about to say that I’ll use the footage to send out a call for help—to bring in some real experts to help find your kids.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t need me to do that. I have to go.”

  “What kind of mother refuses help to find her children?”

  “Excuse me?” Gail shot back. “How long will it take your ‘experts’ to get here when they won’t even allow helicopters to land? I’m sorry, but every second I spend with you is a second that I’m not out looking for them. If you want to help, join the search.”

  Gail turned to leave, but a stern hand grabbed her by the arm.

  “Hold on. I think we both can win here if we play our cards right.”

  “Cards?” repeated Gail as she pulled away. “You just don’t get it.” She stepped outside and turned back to Spike, who glared back at her with a smug expression. “Sophina was right about you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Spike shot off, but Gail was already halfway across the yard, headed for the entrance to the woods path behind the Grange Hall. The path was a hundred winding yards long and led to Glacier Lake Park, one of Sophina and Eliot’s favorite places to go. The playground at the beach had several covered playhouses. If Sophina had gone there in search of Eliot, perhaps she had ducked inside one of them to protect herself from the wind and rain. Who knows—maybe Eliot was there too. The fact that he wasn’t there when she’d searched the park last night didn’t mean he wasn’t there now, right?

  She climbed over a fallen evergreen and approached Hillside Cemetery, which bordered the path halfway between the Grange Hall and the lake. Just as the white-capped water began to peek through the trees, she saw something that made her falter. Several shadows rushed toward her over the granite headstones—shapeless blurs of shadows.

  Mrs. Murray rubbed her eyes and looked again. They couldn’t be shadows, because there wasn’t a hint of sunlight coming through the rainclouds. Without light there could be no shadows, she reasoned.

  But that’s exactly what they were: shadows that were a touch darker than their surroundings. As the blobs streaked closer, narrow protrusions shot out of them, taking on the horrifying shapes of arms and hands. And faces—faces without expression screamed at her without making a sound as she screamed back.

  The hands plunged into her body with a faint yet sickening sensation, like icy cobwebs were being dragged through her flesh. She didn’t realize that she had started to run until she exploded out of a smoky haze and the trees came back into view. The shadows had enveloped her, inside and out. More muddled shapes descended from the canopy as she staggered along the trail, dredging their vaporous appendages deep into her head and chest. She even thought she heard one of them groan.

  Then they were gone. Gail fell onto the wet sand of Glacier Lake beach and looked back to find dozens of shadow blobs lurking behind the tree line. She sobbed as she brushed her hands over her body, trying to remove the sinister cobwebs that were stuck deep within her tissue. But the feeling lingered.

  She struggled to breathe as she rose up and ran to the playground, where she fell to her knees inside a playhouse and cast her eyes back to the forest. But the smoky entities were nowhere to be seen.

  Now you’ve done it! Gail berated herself. You’re so tired that you’re hallucinating. What good are you to Sophina and Eliot like this?

  Rest wasn’t an option—not while her heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Still, she had no choice but to sit there and wait for the cobwebs to go away.

  * * *

  Sophina didn’t know how much time had passed, for she had been focused on purging the rest of the anger and guilt from her mind. The anger was easy; it went away when the tingling in her left hand dissipated. The guilt was harder to shake, perhaps because this emotion felt more authentic. They had passed the halfway point to the lake’s eastern shore, so their ascent of Mount Vahkar would begin soon. She had to clear her mind now and set things right with Mrs. Tanner. She didn’t want any distractions while climbing a slope that looked steeper by the minute.

  The rising sun had pushed the shadow-line back to within a few feet of the deadwood forest. There was no animal life here, save for some plantimals that were anchored in the sand at the edge of the dune. They were brownish in color, and moved with none of the vigor displayed by their cousins back at the river. Clearly, the drought had taken its toll.

  With her glumness lingering, Sophina tried to imagine where she might be if she were strolling in the same space along Glacier Lake. Judging from her proximity to the waterfall, she supposed she would be near one of the rustic cottages that dotted the beach opposite Jagged Mountain. She wondered if anyone was still trying to ride out the anomaly inside one of them, blindly hoping that the worst had passed.

  It was near this spot that her inner tube had gotten stuck in the reeds last summer after she’d dozed off while floating on it. She would never forget the sights and sounds of the frogs and turtles as they’d hopped and scurried off the surrounding lily pads when she’d awoken to the blare of the car horn, or the look on her mom’s face after she’d driven around the lake in pursuit of the drifting tire.

  “You’d fall asleep on a bed of nails if that’s all you had,” her mom had told her. “That’s the last time I let you float past the buoy before I start yelling.”

  The old Grange Hall would be just inland from here. She wondered how many people were there right now, and wished she was one of them. The thought of playing cards and eating kettle corn for days on end wouldn’t have excited her before yesterday. But her attitude would certainly be different when she, her mom, and Eliot arrived at the Grange’s front door. And they would get there. Erickson had better have his shuffling hands ready, because those cards would be flying around the table!

  Just then, Sophina realized tha
t she was ready to talk. Mrs. Tanner was a good fifty yards ahead of her, so the time had come to put some speed into her step—

  “Sophina, is that you?”

  Sophina’s legs stopped working.

  The voice that called to her was familiar in the most glorious and exhilarating way—a voice she hadn’t heard in a painfully long time. Not since August 24, to be exact.

  8 THE ECLIPSE

  Sophina turned toward the only voice that could have made her forget where she was. She found him in an instant, standing at the tree line, dressed in the same denim work clothes that he’d worn that fateful morning—the morning he’d leaned over her bed and kissed her goodbye for the last time.

  “—Daddy?—”

  Sophina didn’t feel the word form, because her throat was too numb to feel.

  “I’ve been searching for you, baby,” said Mr. Murray, his face wrought with emotion. “Somehow, I knew I’d find you here.”

  Sophina rushed toward her dad. She was overcome with joy, a feeling that she’d thought had been lost to her forever.

  “Daddy, I missed you!” she sobbed as she fell into his arms. “I missed you so much!”

  “How sweet,” another voice gurgled in her ear.

  A surge of dread jolted through Sophina. It was a voice she knew all too well, and it wasn’t her father’s.

  Suddenly, her head no longer rested upon her dad’s denim jacket. Instead, her vision was filled with the remnants of a yellow raincoat. And her cheek was no longer flush with his shoulder; it was sinking into it, crossing the icy threshold between the living and the dead.

  A malevolent laugh echoed through the swamp as Sophina lifted her throbbing head and looked up into the old sailor’s lifeless eyes.