The Chronicles of Trellah, Book One: The Perpetual Rain

by T. S. Graham

  Sophina headed for the exit, relieved that she had recovered the only tangible proof that another world existed. Spike Branson could still try to shine a spotlight on what had happened here, but without the drahtuah to back him up, the story was more likely to appear in the pages of the National Enquirer than viewed on televisions across the globe. And that she could live with.

  Shreep!

  Sophina froze with her hand on the doorknob. The call, which came from within her cloak, could mean only one thing: Something else had found its way through the portal—a stowaway that had gone undetected until this most inopportune moment.

  A chorus of gasps rang out as several pairs of prickly legs crawled up onto Sophina’s shoulder.

  “What is that?” someone stammered.

  “Someone, kill it!” another implored.

  A cold breeze washed over Sophina as she opened the door. The creature had stopped moving. With any luck, she’d be able to step outside and close the door before it spooked. She could be more aggressive in capturing it if no one else saw what she was doing. Attempting to grab it now wasn’t an option; she was sure that chaos would erupt if she missed and it got loose in the crowd—not to mention that it could be venomous.

  Footsteps drew near. In a tentative voice, she heard Spike Branson plead: “Hurry—before she gets outside.”

  Knowing that a camera was about to be aimed her way, Sophina took a quick step outside, but her movement was too sudden. A flick of powerful legs sent the unseen organism flying . . .

  A blur of legs and flapping wings sliced through the crowd of screaming people and landed on the floor. The creature’s double-segmented body was covered with black hairs; three legs sprouted from both sides of each segment—twelve in total—the rear center of which were smooth and metallic silver; and two garnet eyes blinked atop separate antennae as fibrous wings pulsed over its domed back.

  Shreep!

  People backed against the walls as the insectoid darted forward.

  Shree—ee—eep!

  More screams followed as it unleashed a louder call.

  Sophina leapt at the insectoid, but it took flight. It buzzed the heads of several hysterical children before landing upside down at the peak of the vaulted ceiling. It then raised its two silver legs high over its back and—

  SHREEEEEEEEE . . . .

  Everyone but Sophina covered their ears as the insectoid chafed its legs back and forth, producing the same heinous screech that she had heard in the swamp. Parents pulled their children toward the exit as she positioned herself beneath the boisterous creature—and jumped.

  . . . EEEEEEEP—

  Sophina clamped her hands over the insectoid’s carapace, silencing the horrid call. Pain shot up her spine as she landed on her feet with a jolt, a sign that her strength had indeed begun to wane. For a moment she stood with the writhing beast held over her head, afraid that her back would hurt even more if she were to move.

  “Please . . . tell me you’re getting this.” The voice was almost inaudible, but Sophina heard it as clear as a shotgun blast. She turned to find Spike peeking around Jake, whose camera was pointed at her and—more importantly—the peculiar bug-thing.

  She trapped the flailing insectoid against her cloak and strode with purpose toward Jake. He held his ground at first, but took several awkward steps back when her smoldering eyes filled his viewfinder.

  “The camera!” yelped Spike when he realized what she was about to do.

  But Jake had no time to react. Sophina grabbed the camera by the lens with her free hand and yanked it from his grasp. She dropped it onto the floor with a thud, and crushed it with her foot, sending shards of metal and plastic skipping across the floor.

  “Are you crazy?” Spike bellowed. “That was a five-thousand-dollar camera!”

  Sophina headed for the exit, but Spike was just getting started.

  “If you think this is over, you’re wrong!” he continued spitefully. “Lots of people saw what happened, so crushing that camera won’t help you. Everything I need for my story is right here!”

  The sweet aroma of liquid sustenance tickled Sophina’s nose as she passed by the refreshments table. Without thought, she snatched up a pitcher of lemonade and drained it in several desperate gulps. She then set the pitcher down and continued to the door. Erickson watched her from behind his parents with an expression of wonderment.

  “I’ll learn everything there is to know about you!” Spike yelled as she strode outside into the raw, wind-driven rain. “You haven’t beaten me yet—not by a long shot!”

  The insectoid snapped its legs against Sophina’s ribs as she left the old Grange Hall behind. She inhaled the cool moist air as she hurried down the woods path toward Glacier Lake, relieved that she didn’t have to worry about anything jumping out at her from the surrounding trees, dead or alive.

  Or did she?

  As she approached Hillside Cemetery, a dark smudge whooshed out from behind a headstone. Before she could react, two hands shot out of the blur and sank into her arm.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sophina growled as another smudge arrived. The sensation of their hands passing through her body didn’t hurt at all. In fact, it tickled in a cold sort of way. She skirted the headstones, more worried about keeping the thrashing insectoid contained than she was about the mob of wispy necrahs that had somehow found a way to pseudo-materialize in her world.

  “Can’t get me!” she taunted, reveling in the fact that their shriveled brains were probably ready to explode out of frustration. She even hoped that the old sailor was among them because he would be having a conniption right about now. The thought of it made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  She leapt over the last fallen tree obstructing the path and landed upon the frothy beach of Glacier Lake, barely noticing that the smudge-necrahs hadn’t followed her out of the woods. She placed the powder-filled vial upright onto the sand and removed the cork from its neck.

  10 THE TWO STORMS

  Sophina knew where she was the instant her boots sank into the green sand: the exact spot where Mrs. Tanner had jolted her heart back to life. She could see the dimples in the beach where her body had been placed. She knew the necrahs had carried her some distance before she’d escaped, but it had been much farther than she would’ve guessed.

  A muffled shreep came from below, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She removed the insectoid from her cloak and placed it upon the sand, where it scuttled around in circles as if disoriented by the sun. It raised its silver legs and rubbed another sharp shreep, drawing a flurry of responses from deep in the thicket. Then, with three swift kicks of its bristling legs, the insectoid disappeared into the swamp.

  Sophina wasn’t sure if the happiness she felt came from knowing that she had returned this simple creature to its home, or if it was a result of the fresh flow of drahtuah into her body. Maybe it was a little of both. One thing was certain, though: the pain in her spine was gone.

  The eclipse had all but run its course, for only a touch of the moon remained between the sun and earth. There was no sign of the others, so she ran with lightning speed toward the clearing with hopes of finding them there safe and sound.

  She quickly put the lake behind her and scanned the field. The downed tree they had run for smoldered at the edge of the deadwood, proving that at least one of her friends had made it through the gauntlet of necrahs and set it ablaze. Sadly, it was the only sign that anyone had been there. Did they venture into the swamp after her? She hoped so, because if they hadn’t, it meant that the specters had breached their fire defense and taken them. The thought of being alone here—with no way home—was too terrifying to even consider.

  She suppressed her dark thoughts by watching some new and extraordinary fauna that had joined the vacharos in the clearing, perhaps lured out of the swamp by the eclipse. Several of the creatures were the size of cars, with saucer-shaped bodies, long necks, and hatchet-shaped bones that jutted out between the
ir eyes. Mossy feelers on their chins probed the ground for plantimals as they shuffled along on their four stubby legs. Sophina thought they looked like two-headed tortoises that had suffered the indignity of losing their shells.

  Scores of cat-sized reptilians darted about. They stopped beneath the bloated bellies of the vacharos and used their flat tails to launch themselves at the clouds of tey-tey flies that hovered there, snagging the vile little bloodsuckers in mouths that opened wider than those of any animal their size should. Then again, strange was the norm when it came to the creatures Sophina had seen here.

  “Sophina!”

  Sophina spun on her heels to find Mrs. Tanner, Talfore, and Jantu emerging from the bog, each with a nearly spent torch in hand. She met Mrs. Tanner halfway across the clearing and was swallowed up in her arms.

  “I thought I’d lost you for good this time,” Mrs. Tanner sighed. “I’ve never been so scared.”

  Mrs. Tanner’s reaction affected Sophina deeply. With her body rehydrated by a glut of lemonade, it didn’t take long for her eyes to blur with tears.

  “Are you hurt? You fell so far into the swamp.”

  “I’m okay,” Sophina said. “I used the drahtuah to escape the necrahs.”

  Mrs. Tanner stepped back, her expression an odd mix of relief and concern.

  “But I only gave you one vial. If you used it to escape, how did you get back here? You weren’t gone long enough to retrieve the vial from my house.”

  It took a moment for Sophina to find enough courage to tell the truth, but she knew it had to be done. “I took a vial from your suitcase,” she admitted.

  “You stole from me?”

  Sophina could only manage a nod.

  “Sophina, there’s a reason I gave you one—and only one—vial. I shudder to think what might’ve happened had that vial fallen into the wrong hands.”

  Sophina was aware of this, of course. She felt an overpowering urge to wait until much later to elaborate on what had taken place.

  “That said, I know you were only thinking of Eliot,” Mrs. Tanner continued without anger. “The fact that you’re here proves that the vial stayed in your possession, so I suppose no harm was done.”

  Now the guilt was unbearable. Sophina had no choice but to come clean.

  “That’s not exactly true,” she revealed. “Something did happen. . . . The wormhole formed at the old Grange Hall, which is being used as a storm shelter.” She drew a deep breath, then forced out the important part: “My watcher followed me through.”

  “What?”

  Sophina was sure that she was about to receive an epic tongue-lashing, but it didn’t happen.

  “This is horrible,” Mrs. Tanner said without a hint of irritation. “Was anyone hurt?”

  Sophina shook her head. “The old sailor just shriveled up and disappeared.”

  “Yes, of course. He can’t materialize in our world.”

  But Sophina knew that he could materialize in their world, at least in part. The smudge-necrahs were proof of that. She told Mrs. Tanner what had transpired on the woods path, and asked if she knew what was happening.

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Tanner admitted. “The amount of drahtuah being gathered within the crater is growing. Perhaps the radiation has weakened the fabric of space-time to the point where the necrahs can partially slip through. If that’s true, then it’s even more important that we succeed in our mission. If we don’t, the people of Thomasville will be exposed to things that no one from our world should see.”

  This made sense to Sophina. If the fabric continued to weaken as the volume of drahtuah atop Mount Vahkar grew, then perhaps the necrahs would soon be able to materialize in a way that could pose a real threat, instead of just scaring the living daylights out of anyone who happened to wander too close to the cemetery.

  How many people were at the Grange?” Mrs. Tanner asked.

  “I don’t know; a few dozen, maybe.”

  “Then it could’ve been worse,” Mrs. Tanner pointed out. “I’m just glad you’re alive. The portal opening where it did was nothing more than bad luck. Whatever stories come from what those people saw can be refuted when we return. You can say it was all part of a high-tech Halloween prank. Those who saw it will know the truth; it’s the rest of the world that we need to worry about.”

  The situation was more problematic than that, given the Spike factor, but Sophina decided that the rest of the story could wait. She had revealed enough to ease her conscience for now. She noticed that Talfore and Jantu had stepped quite close to her, and their eyes sparkled even more than usual.

  “It is good to see you, my friend,” Jantu said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  Talfore gave her a smile that was subtle, yet expressive. “Your world will be a better place with you in it, Sophina of Thomasville. You have suffered much, and I fear you will be slowed by the wounds the necrahs have inflicted. That is why we will not climb Mount Vahkar today.”

  “But we have to go today!” Sophina argued, ignoring the pings of numbness that had been shooting down her left arm for the past several minutes. “I can’t let Eliot spend the night up there!”

  “I am sorry.”

  “I can still move faster than you! Eliot’s just a kid; he doesn’t know how to protect himself.”

  “The vrahkoles have a plan for your children,” Talfore reasoned. “They will still be alive tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps he’s right,” Mrs. Tanner suggested. “If one more thing goes wrong today, it could keep us from returning to the valley by nightfall. Even if we find the children, our efforts will be for nothing. If staying here tonight betters our chances of success, then that’s what we should do.”

  Sophina felt like she was shrinking inside as she turned and stared up at the western ridge of Mount Vahkar—the spot where her brother was surely being held. Her emotions were more powerful now than ever. Perhaps it was the yo-yo effect of the changing levels of drahtuah within her body, or a symptom of the minor stroke she was now ignoring. Luckily for her friends, she had learned to control her outbursts.

  “There will never be another girl as brave as you, Sophina Murray,” Mrs. Tanner said over her shoulder. “Watching you has given me strength I never knew I had.”

  Mrs. Tanner’s words chipped away at the negativity in Sophina’s mind, and she soon pulled herself together enough to face Talfore.

  “You weren’t supposed to take fire into the forest,” she pointed out. “Why did you do it?”

  Talfore’s expression softened. This was the face of a father, not a warrior.

  “If you had died in this field, with friends at your side, we could have guided you without fear into the afterlife,” he explained. “But in the swamp forest, with only the necrahs to show you the way, there was no hope. Where they would have taken you is no place for a child.”

  “Thank you.”

  Talfore bowed. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Tahra’s piercing Graw! Tahra’s hackles rose as he looked toward the western ridge of Mount Vahkar, where a brilliant flash of crimson had illuminated the landscape.

  A band of visible energy cascaded down the monstrous cliff. It started at a fixed point above the waterfall and expanded outward like a ripple on a pond, plummeting toward the lake and leaving a plume of dust and falling rocks in its wake.

  “It’s happened,” uttered Mrs. Tanner. “I thought we’d have more time . . .”

  Sophina knew what this ring of swirling light rushing toward them was. The radiation that had built up within the mass of drahtuah stones collected by the vrahkoles had burst forth—and the red storm she’d heard so much about had been released.

  “Get away from the trees!” Mrs. Tanner hollered over the fast-growing rumble.

  Sophina looked at the line of dead skyscraper trees as a wall of energy hit the valley floor and surged across the lake, rippling the surrounding air as it disturbed the fabric of space-time. She turned and sprinted away, knowing too well what
Mrs. Tanner feared. If the storm was half as powerful as it looked, those trees were in danger of being uprooted by the wind. If one fell in their direction they would be crushed for sure.

  She had barely gotten started when a tremor knocked her off her feet, and a deafening roar swelled behind her as the storm made landfall.

  A squeal of protest cut through the racket as Sophina turned to see Mrs. Tanner arrive at Talfore and Jantu’s side. Jantu attempted to stuff Tahra into his cloak, but his furry companion was having none of it.

  “Hurry!” screamed Sophina as a towering wall of debris swept onto the field like a crimson sandstorm. She jumped up and ran toward them; she wasn’t about to leave—not after the devotion they’d shown her.

  “No, Sophina! Keep go—”

  Mrs. Tanner was silenced as the tempest engulfed her. Sophina dropped onto her stomach as an epic blast of cold, heavy air knifed through her clothing. As it raked over her body, one thing became horrifyingly clear: This was no ordinary wind. It was as if she were enveloped by a torrent of viscous liquid that had permeated her flesh to tug on her very bones and organs.

  A series of sharp cracks rang out through the din, followed by a ground-jolting crash as a skyscraper tree gave in to the onslaught. Sophina sank her fingers into the parched earth, spurred on by the unspeakable sensation that her body was lifting off the ground. As she fought the current, a potent urge overtook her mind. Suddenly, she wanted to be whisked away into the unknown. Euphoria had again gripped her, a feeling that was infinitely more robust than any she had experienced before.

  No! Sophina scolded herself. You’ll die if you give in. This feeling isn’t real!

  She dug deeper into the soil, determined to hold on as a rash of projectiles stung her face. Just when she couldn’t hold out any longer, the storm passed. The air became still as the tempest moved on to batter whatever else lay in its path.

  “Sophina—are you all right?”

  Sophina looked up to see Mrs. Tanner rushing toward her. Talfore and Jantu also seemed to have weathered the storm.