Terra's Call (TetraSphere Book 1)

by P. T. L. Perrin

  “That obviously represents us,” Sky points out. “Wasn’t there something else around it? I wish I had taken a snapshot.”

  “I did,” Pax says from the doorway. He comes in and Storm follows him. “We heard what you said about the figures in the circle. Let me find that photo.” He searches his phone and shows us what the blanket looks like. He sits on the bed next to me and Storm plops down next to Sky.

  “I’ve memorized the symbols,” Storm says, “and I know what most of them probably mean. The combinations are open for interpretation, but we know a few things and might be able to figure out the rest. We know the stick figures represent us, for example, and we’ll call the circle we’re in the earth circle.”

  A smaller ring with short nubby spokes extending from it sits above the earth circle, and a dark, narrow horizontal half-moon forms a shallow bowl that cradles it on the bottom.

  “Those two symbols together, without the one in the middle, represent love,” Sky says, “so can we assume that love plays a part in saving the artifact? But what does that mean, exactly? How?”

  “Look at this, on the left of the tetrahedron,” Pax points to the photo on his phone. “There’s a vertical half-moon, and underneath it an arrow pointing to the artifact. What about the winged serpent below the arrow? What do those symbols mean?”

  Storm answers, “The moon is the protector and guardian of the earth. See the feathered wings on the serpent? It’s an ambivalent symbol, and could either mean an evil entity or a scary one with good intentions. If we consider the moon represents the Allarans, the serpent would be the Dracans. We already know that some are working with the Allarans to protect the artifact.”

  “What does the arrow mean?” asks Sky.

  “Arrows typically signify protection and defense,” Storm says.

  “So this symbol might mean that the Allarans will defend the artifact against the Dracans, or that they’ll defend it together. But from what?” Pax asks.

  “What about this symbol on the right of the tetrahedron?” I point to the photo. “It looks like a stylized dog with big ears next to a four-pointed star, which is next to a butterfly. Do you know what they mean, Storm?”

  “The dog-like creature is a coyote, or trickster. The star represents courage, hope and guidance, and the butterfly means transformation. I’m not sure how they fit together. Maybe it’s one of those things we can’t interpret before the right time. I can tell you what the eight-pointed sun in the circle at the bottom of the artifact represents. It’s hope.”

  “Where there’s life, there’s hope,” says Sky. “Isn’t that in the Bible or something?”

  “Now the question is when? Do you think we’ll be ready?” I feel anxiety rising. Waiting is not easy.

  “Speaking of getting ready, I need a shower and some lunch. I’ll see you girls later.” Storm gets up and leaves.

  I hand Pax’s phone back to him, and feel a little jolt where my hand momentarily touches his. I glance at him and smile, but fight the urge to stare at his emerald eyes. They pull me like a pair of powerful magnets, and if I give in, he’ll know I’m attracted to him as more than a friend. There’s too much at stake for complicated romantic entanglements. It’s best to keep things light and easy between us.

  “Brother, dear,” Sky says sweetly, “I don’t have your gift, but even I can tell you need a shower, too. Now go.”

  He reaches over me and pats her on the head. “See you at lunch, kiddo.”

  FORTY-TWO

  Wolf, Dylan, and a few others have gone to the twins’ house, and Dad and the rest of the rescue workers are here for lunch and a much-needed break. They’re folding the empty cots and carrying them downstairs. After cleaning up, Storm and Pax move furniture back in place. Cots are left ready in the office for people who have no other shelter, and I see quite a few women and kids still here among the men. Mom has sandwiches and soup ready, and we take our plates outside.

  Sky and I sit on the porch swing while the boys take a couple of chairs next to a small table. I’m happy to see critters busy in the field and our four Sentinels floating placidly in the sky. Life seems to have returned to normal. We eat in silence, enjoying the peace.

  Storm is the first to break it. “Did any of you ever find out what Marla’s mom was doing in the Dracan tunnels?”

  “She was hurt, Storm, and we were pretty busy,” Sky answers. “There was no opportunity to question her. Besides, Marla stayed pretty close to her until they were evacuated this morning.”

  “How did it go with Marla?” Pax asks.

  I shrug my shoulders and answer, “Not badly. It occurred to me that we’re all hybrids, and maybe we can be friends, or at least tolerate each other. Marla showed a lot of compassion while she cared for the sick and injured. She surprised me.”

  Sky continues, “She even apologized for snapping at Jewel. If she can stay away from Max, there’s hope for her.”

  I see a sudden flurry of activity among the field animals and hundreds of birds take to the air from the forest and fly scattered and confused away from the trees. It looks like every bird for himself. What now?

  The sound starts as a deep rumble I feel in my gut before it reaches my ears. When it does, I drop to the floor and cover my head, and scream, “Get down! Cover your ears!”

  The volume increases and wave after wave of vibrations beat against me and bounce off the wall behind me, hitting me again from that side. Screaming pain rips at my ears and head. It feels like muscle and sinew are tearing apart as it travels through every cell in my body. My heart slams against my chest and I know I’m going to die.

  After an eternity, I feel the vibrations lessen and finally stop. There is no sound at all, and I’m sure this time I’ve been deafened forever. I tap my wrist.

  Sky? Storm? Pax? I hope I can still hear their thoughts. Nothing.

  Sky is curled up a couple of feet away. I crawl over and shake her. She squirms, so I know she’s alive. I stagger to my feet and shuffle over to Pax. His eyes are open and staring at the ceiling, and I feel my heart turn to ice. Is he dead? No. His eyes find me and track me as I step over him. Storm is on his side facing away from me. I roll him over and he blinks. We’re alive, but in what condition?

  The door opens behind us and I feel Dad’s strong arms pull me toward him. He leads me inside while other men help my friends. Mom is speaking but I can’t hear a word she says. Dad helps me sit in my reading chair. Pax and Sky are led to the couch, and Storm walks to the other recliner.

  Whoever said “silence is golden” has never heard silence like this. It feels heavy, confining, as if my head were filled with cement. It gradually lightens, while Mom and the ladies fuss over us. I tap on the wristband again.

  It’s too quiet in here. Will someone please answer me?

  Oh, thank God our link still works. Sky bursts into tears, and Mom goes to her and hugs her. I tap “M” and she looks at me.

  We can still communicate, Mom. We’ll be okay, even if this is permanent. It’s the first time I’ve admitted my fear to myself. What if we never hear again?

  We’re all having trouble hearing, Jewel, she answers. You were outside, so it’s worse for you kids, but I’m getting some hearing back and trust that you’ll recover, too. You did the last time this happened.

  I nod. I’m willing to hope, but the last time wasn’t nearly as bad. Is this it? Is this our call?

  I end the connection with Mom and link with the kids again.

  Do you think the artifact just called us? Storm and I must be on the same wavelength because that’s exactly what I’m thinking.

  We’ll know soon enough, Pax says. We’ll be hearing from the Watchers if it’s time. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m wiped out and think I’ll take advantage of this forced quiet. He presses on the band and cuts the link, curls up with his head on the arm of the sofa and closes his eyes.

  Sky lies down on the other side and cuts her link. Storm and I do the same and curl up in our rec
liners. I’m drifting off when I feel a warm blanket cover me. Mom.

  FORTY-THREE

  PAX

  I swat at the flies buzzing around my head. The noise only becomes louder, I come fully awake and realize I’m hearing sound again. Nothing is clear yet, but I’m hopeful it will clear up eventually. Meanwhile, we have our telepathy to fall back on. I smile and then open my eyes.

  Jewel is still asleep, her face cradled on her hand. Some of her jet-black hair cascades along her soft cheek and down her neck. I love how her lashes brush her cheek, and imagine her long legs tucked under the blanket. Rein it in. Just friends, remember?

  There’s that buzzing again. It feels almost like it did when the Watchers communicated with us.

  If you are awake, please awaken the others. You must come right away.

  Oh, no. It is the Watchers.

  Give us some time to get ready. Where should we meet you? I answer.

  Sequoia comes to you. She will lead you. You must come now, Paxton. It is time.

  My stomach drops and I feel sick. We aren’t ready. What if we can’t do what is being asked of us? What if we fail? I push the thoughts aside and get up to shake Storm awake. He’s groggy, but I see his eyes go wide and know he’s hearing them, too.

  Sky sits up and sends a wave of fear and confusion. I send her peace and go to Jewel. I gently brush her hair away from her face. It’s as soft as I’ve imagined it to be. I shake her shoulder until her eyes open.

  “I hear them, Pax,” she says. Her voice is slightly roughened by sleep, and I feel my body respond. I turn away as she sits up. At least I’m hearing clearer.

  Analiese sets a tray of coffee, mugs, and biscuits on the table. My stomach rumbles and my mouth waters in response. “How long have we slept?” I ask her.

  She smiles, pours a cup that smells like heaven, and says, as she hands it to me, “You slept all night. It’s nearly 10 a.m. Wednesday.”

  Jewel’s house has many bathrooms and we each find one and freshen up. The girls, as usual, take longer than Storm and me. Sequoia and Wolf come in the front door and head into the kitchen. Mom and Dad arrive soon after, and they gather in the living room with Analiese and Charles.

  “The Watchers have called the kids,” Wolf explains. “They’ll allow us to accompany them to a place below the observatory on Clingman’s Dome. Sequoia and I have packed supplies for them, including headlamps, flashlights, rope, batteries, water and food. The Watcher’s say they won’t need it all, but they will allow them to carry the backpacks. The only thing left for us to do is pray for them.”

  The adults clasp hands and bow their heads. Wolf leads them in a prayer for our protection and for wisdom to know what to do when the time comes. I silently pray along. I pray that God cares enough to listen and answer our prayers.

  I see Storm standing silently at the kitchen counter. The look on his face matches his name. I can smell his anger.

  When the girls return, we grab our jackets, put on hiking boots, and get in our separate cars. Sky and I ride with our parents, Jewel with hers, and Storm with his aunt and uncle. If things go badly, this may be the last time we get to spend with our families.

  Wolf and Sequoia lead us to a clearing where the three cars park in a row, and we walk along a narrow path that winds through the forest and up a steep incline. On the way up, we get glimpses of mountain views obscured by the blue haze that gives the Great Smoky Mountains their name. The Watchers wait in front of a wall of brambles in a small clearing.

  The Watcher in the middle steps forward. We enter the mountain here. Only the Four are permitted inside the chamber of the artifact. You must take your leave now, Star Children, and follow us.

  Mom and Dad gather Sky and me into a hug, and then hug Storm and Jewel, too. The other folks do the same, giving each of us encouragement and assuring us they’ll be waiting when we return.

  Then it’s time, and the middle Watcher aims a beam from a device he holds in one hand at the brambles. The plants disappear to reveal an opening large enough to walk upright and alongside each other. As we enter a corridor with smooth, straight walls, I look back and see the brambles move back into place.

  “This looks like one of the Dracan tunnels,” Storm observes. “Is it?”

  No, Star Child. We also form tunnels in the earth, but our technology is different. I notice they seem to be floating, and they emit a glow that provides enough light that we don’t need to turn our headlamps on. It’s as if we’re following ghosts.

  “What are the chances we’ll run into some of the Dracans down here?” Sky asks. No one answers. She isn’t projecting any anxiety, but I feel her presence as a constant, warm energy. I drop my shield and sniff. She and Jewel are ahead of me and Storm walks in front of them. Jewel’s scent fills me with a longing I have never felt before. Sky’s scent is as familiar as my own, and Storm is sending out anger pheromones, a little stronger than usual. It’s evident that our gifts work in these Allaran tunnels. The Dracans must use something that coats theirs and dampens our abilities.

  The tunnel angles downward for about thirty yards until it branches and we follow the Watchers down the left branch. The walls close in so that we’re forced to walk single-file. They lead us along another branch to the right, and then another, until I’ve lost count of the turns. We’d never find our way back without them.

  After what seems like hours, we reach a staircase cut into the stone walls of a square shaft. Each flight has twelve steps to a landing, where it turns to follow the next wall down twelve steps to the next landing, and so on. I look down but see only darkness after several flights below. The little men start down the stairs without changing pace and I see that they actually are floating. I tap my wristband.

  Are you floating them, Storm?

  Not me. I’m guessing they’re doing it on their own.

  The now familiar buzzing tells me one of the Watchers is speaking. We have many abilities, young Paxton. We are born from the same source as you. It seems they heard our mental conversation and can tap in to our link.

  Then why do you need us to fix the artifact? Jewel breaks in. If you have the same gifts, can’t you fix it?

  The question seems to stump the Watchers because they don’t answer. I try to count the flights of stairs but by the time I get to sixty, my leg muscles are quivering and my mind has gone blank.

  “Don’t you believe in elevators?” Storm asks irritably.

  We will stop here and you may rest a bit.

  We gratefully sink to a step and grab a bottle of water from our packs. Sky offers water to the Watchers but they shake their heads. I wonder if they eat and drink. They gather closely together and I imagine they’re communicating with each other. It seems a good time to study them.

  Their bald heads are shaped like giant light bulbs held to thin bodies by a short stick of a neck. Eyes, shaped like ours but much larger with solid black irises, dominate their faces. In comparison, their noses and thin mouths look disproportionately small. I look for distinguishing features and can’t find anything that gives them individual identities, although I’m sure they can tell each other apart. Are they triplets?

  One of them floats over to us. You asked why we cannot fix the artifact if we share the same abilities you have. We cannot, Star Children, because we lack your human genes. You are of Terra and we are not. Your planet, created for you, responds to you. Although we have been here for many millennia, we were created for Allara, as were the Allarans, and the Dracans were created for their planet. You have been chosen and you alone can complete the task. If you are sufficiently refreshed, we will proceed.

  We gather our things and pull ourselves to our feet. I hear Jewel groan and Sky stretches her legs. I look up and can’t see where we entered this endless stairwell. I don’t bother looking down again. We’re certainly going to feel this tomorrow; if there is a tomorrow.

  Although I’ve lost count of the number of landings we’ve passed this far, I start over from our rest
stop. It helps to pass the time and keeps my mind off my sore legs. When I’ve counted twenty-nine more flights, I feel the step under my feet tremble. It quickly turns into violent shaking and a roar fills the shaft.

  “Stop!” I yell. “Hug the wall!” I grab Jewel just ahead of me and turn us both to the wall.

  “I have Sky,” Storm yells. The Watchers say nothing, and I hope they’re holding on to something.

  My face is turned so I can see stones and broken stairs fall from high above, bouncing off and breaking the stairs below them as they tumble down.

  A violent shudder knocks me free of the wall, and I hear Jewel scream my name as my feet slip off the step and I’m suddenly in free fall. I’m dead. I close my eyes, knowing it’s over, when I feel the whoosh of a chunk of rock shooting past me. Storm. Thank God for Storm. He floats me to the side, and my foot finds a solid step, but my legs refuse to hold me up and I abruptly sit.

  When the shaking stops, the stairs are all but obliterated. Jewel and Sky are shaking and holding on to each other, and I send as much peace as I can muster to my sister. Storm makes his way down to me and sits on a relatively intact step above me. The Watchers are gathered on a landing that seems to have escaped major damage. Now what?

  ~~~~~

  It’s a miracle we each still have our backpacks. I take mine off and grab a water bottle.

  What do we do now? Jewel asks. Her thoughts sound as shaky as I feel.

  We wait for the Watchers, Storm answers. It looks like they’re having a little conference.

  We don’t have to wait long. We continue, Star Children. The Dracans are drilling closer than we expected. We must get to the artifact before they find it.

  How to you propose we do that, with the stairs destroyed? I ask. As far as I can see, ours is the only section still intact.

  If we hang on to each other, Storm says, I can float us down, as long as it isn’t too far.

  How far is too far? Jewel asks.