The Red Sun (Legends of Orkney)

by Alane Adams

  “Deomora, Shun Kara!” he shouted. “Come get me, you ugly mutt. I’m right here.”

  The wolf leaped at him as Sam shot his hand out and released the sphere of energy he had gathered in his palm. The Shun Kara yelped in pain as the witchfire burned its chest, but it landed on Sam, knocking them both backward onto the ground. Razor-sharp teeth descended onto Sam’s neck.

  Sam hadn’t stopped the attack at all, and now he was the prey.

  Bobbing lights rushed into the dark clearing. Voices called out for Leo.

  A floating numbness cushioned Sam as the night sky faded to black.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The sun beat down on Keely’s face, waking her from a fitful slumber. She opened her eyes, grimacing from the brightness. She was on a beach, lying in the sand, inexplicably covered with palm fronds. She brushed them off and sat up. Next to her, Mavery snored loudly. There was no sign of Leo or Sam. How long had she been asleep? It could have been days, for all she knew. Keely brushed off the sand and stood stretching her arms.

  “Mavery, wake up,” she said, shaking the girl.

  “Leave me alone,” she grumbled, rolling over on her side.

  Keely shook her again. “Get up. We’re here.”

  Mavery sat up, her hair standing on end, and looked around in awe. “We’re here? On Asgard? Why didn’t you say so?” She jumped up with instant excitement. “Let’s go exploring. Where’s Sam? Where’s Leo? Come on.” She grabbed Keely’s hand and dragged her forward. “What are you waiting for?”

  Keely laughed, holding her back. “Stop. I don’t know where they are. We should be careful. Who knows what’s out there?”

  Mavery pulled harder. “Nah, there’s nothing dangerous on Asgard.”

  As if on cue, a screeching roar creased the air like fingernails on a chalkboard. The girls saw a black arrow streak across the distant sky.

  “Nothing dangerous, huh?” Keely remarked pointedly.

  “It’s a long way away,” Mavery said, unconcerned. “I want to see Odin. You coming or not?” She stood at the edge of the tree-lined border. A rim of fog clung to the interior, blocking the view of what lay beyond. Mavery held back a big branch that offered a glimpse of the island’s enchanting interior.

  “Don’t be so bossy,” Keely snapped. “I’m the oldest right now, so I’m in charge. We need to find the boys first and make a plan.”

  “What we really need to find is food. I’m starving. And I’ll bet there’s some in here. . . .”

  Mavery disappeared into the gap in the branches. Keely let out an exasperated groan, certain this was a bad idea, then followed.

  Pushing through the leafy border, Keely walked into a different world. The ocean sounds faded away, and they were in a humid jungle. Birds squawked, and strange animals let out howling calls. Mavery was just ahead.

  “Maybe we should go back and wait on the beach,” Keely said.

  “Are you crazy? We may never get a chance to come back here. I’m exploring,” Mavery said, marching off through the jungle.

  Keely followed reluctantly. Bright flowers sprouted from the lush plants that choked the forest floor. Tall trees blocked out the light, their branches strung with moss. Then she looked up and gasped in shock. The sun that shone through the leaves was a bright yellow, free from the stain.

  “Mavery, do you see that? I think Sam broke the curse,” she said, hurrying to keep up with Mavery.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so,” Mavery answered distractedly, hopping over a stream. She stopped in front of a tree with thorny branches bare of leaves. The limbs were yellowish green, and the thorns looked sharp enough to poke through steel.

  A songbird landed on the lower branch and let out a sweet trill, bringing Mavery to a halt.

  “Pretty bird,” she cooed, lifting her hand to pet the bird’s chest. Upon touching it, she let out a squeal of pain, yanking her hand back, howling. “Ow, ow, ow!”

  Keely lifted the girl’s hand and saw a large welt. “What the—”

  The songbird growled, revealing tiny, sharp teeth in its beak.

  “Get away,” Keely shouted, waving her hands to shoo it off.

  “Brunin,” the bird hissed.

  After everything that had transpired since she had passed through the stonefire, Keely shouldn’t have been surprised by talking birds, but this one rendered her speechless.

  Mavery was not intimidated. “Listen, you, we don’t mean any harm, so just get out of our way.”

  The bird flapped its wings, baring its fangs again. “Brunin,” it repeated.

  “Brunin? Why do you keep saying that?” Keely asked.

  In the distance behind Keely, a tree crashed to the ground, shaking the earth.

  Keely jumped. “What was that?”

  “It was just a tree falling,” Mavery informed her, still glaring at the bird.

  “Why does that not feel like a coincidence to me?”

  The bird flew angrily into Keely’s face, crying, “Brunin!” before it took flight, zigzagging between the tree branches.

  Another tree fell down, this one much closer to the girls. Then another, as if something approaching was mowing them down.

  Keely and Mavery instinctively moved closer together, holding hands. Even the little witch was scared now.

  “Shouldn’t we run?” Mavery asked.

  “Run where?” Keely said, scanning the area. Suddenly, nothing looked familiar.

  The next falling tree was so close, the girls felt the rush of wind as it toppled to the ground. Keely made a decision. “You’re right. We’re running.” Hand in hand, the girls started to sprint, ducking into the brush away from the falling trees.

  After a few moments, Keely slowed, listening. The falling trees had stopped. For a moment, she thought they were safe. But then a hulking shadow loomed over them.

  Both girls turned slowly to confront their pursuer.

  Brunin was a bear. Not an ordinary bear, but a giant one, at least two stories tall. Standing upright on its hind legs and dressed in leather armor, the beast let out a terrifying roar. It clutched a round wooden shield in one paw and a broadsword in the other. Its stout head was encased in a helmet of metal and leather. One eye was adorned with a black silken patch.

  “Who dares enter my forest?” Brunin bellowed.

  “I-I am Keely; this is Mavery. We’re looking for our friends,” Keely said, her voice quivering.

  The bear plunged his enormous sword into the ground, spraying the girls with dirt. “There are more trespassers? I will skin you all alive!”

  Behind the bear, a pair of ravens circled the sky, cawing what sounded like a warning.

  “We didn’t mean to trespass, I swear,” Keely said, but the words had hardly left her mouth when Brunin howled in pain. An arrow pierced its cheek, sending the beast into a frenzy as it pawed at the shaft.

  Leo stepped from the bushes, notching another arrow in his bow. “Stay back, Keely.”

  “Leo, don’t,” Keely warned, but Leo unleashed the arrow. The bear moved fast; in a blur of motion, it spun and held the shield in front of it so the second arrow landed squarely in the center of the wood. Then it raised its paw and threw the sword it held, sending it spinning across the clearing at Leo. The boy dropped adroitly to the ground, and the blade embedded in the tree behind him, wobbling back and forth.

  The enraged bear swiped its mighty paw at Keely and scooped her up, dangling her between two claws.

  “Put her down!” Mavery shouted. She quickly rubbed her palms together and sent out a weak blast of green fire. The sizzling bolt hit Brunin in the knee, but the beast didn’t flinch. Instead, it swiped its other paw across the clearing and scooped up Mavery.

  Keely tried to pry apart the bear’s claws, but its grip was unyielding. She desperately searched the area for Leo but saw no sign of the boy.

  “Leo, help!” she shouted.

  The bear grunted as it turned around in search of its attacker. But the beast was focuse
d on the ground, so it didn’t see that Leo had climbed a tree and was now eye level with his target. Leo waited for the perfect moment, balanced upon a branch, and then jumped out, grabbing hold of the bear’s armor and pulling himself up to its shoulder.

  The bear stumbled back, startled by the boy’s bold assault. One of the crows dive-bombed Leo, trying to knock the boy off. But Leo batted the crow away and jumped onto the bear’s cheek, gripping its fur with his hand and drawing a knife with the other.

  “Put them down, or lose the other eye,” Leo said.

  The bear held the two girls as the pair of crows circled and cawed angrily. After a tense moment, the beast let out a chuffing noise of humor, as if it found them entertaining, then released Keely. She dropped to the thick grass with a thump, followed by Mavery.

  Leo jumped down and helped Keely up. “Are you all right?” he asked, eying her for any sign of injury.

  “I’m fine,” Keely said, her fear wiped away by Leo’s dashing bravery.

  Mavery didn’t wait for a hand up. She walked over and kicked the bear in the shins. “I wanna see Odin. Take me to him, or I’m gonna tell him you were a meanie.”

  The giant bear sat down, laughing harder. It scooped up Mavery again in its paw, holding her up to its nose. It bared a row of fangs at her, but the little girl was not intimidated. She leaned forward, putting her hands on his black nose, ignoring the sharp teeth.

  “I know who you are,” Mavery said. “You’re—”

  “Shh, child.” Brunin held one claw up to his mouth, silencing her. “What is it you wish from Odin?” the bear asked Keely, setting Mavery down gently.

  “We’re looking for our other friend,” Keely said.

  “His name’s Sam,” Leo added. “He needs our help.”

  “Your Sam is perfectly safe,” Brunin said. “For today. But the day will come when he will need strong allies.”

  Keely looked at Leo, then back at the bear. “I’m strong,” she said confidently. “I won’t turn my back on him.”

  “You must learn more about this world before you are ready,” the bear chided gently. “And you, young warrior. Will you fight for your friend?”

  Leo held up his bow. “I am a warrior of the Umatilla. I am not afraid.”

  “Both so brave,” Brunin said, scratching his chest with a thick row of claws. “But the day will come when he is not himself. Will you stand beside him then, when he needs you most?” The bear seemed lost in thought. The two crows landed on his shoulders. One whispered in his ear.

  “Quite right, Hunin,” the bear murmured. The crow let out a loud caw, and Keely felt a sudden grief as she glimpsed a future so bleak it sent a chill through her.

  Sam in pain, Sam torn in two. Taken from them. The images were like camera flashes, bright pops that briefly illuminated the darkness that awaited.

  She stepped closer to the bear. “I get it, it’s going to be hard, but Sam is our friend, and we’ll do whatever it takes to help him.” Mavery nodded emphatically at her side.

  Brunin seemed pleased. He levered himself to his feet, stretching his arms wide and letting out a loud growl. “Then it shall be as it shall be. Return to the beach before you lose your way. This island can be treacherous for the uninvited.”

  The three kids watched the bear turn away and begin to walk on two legs, then lope on all four, crashing through the trees and disappearing from sight.

  Mavery was already heading back to the beach.

  “I thought you wanted to explore,” Keely said. “Meet Odin and all that?”

  Mavery kept walking. “We just did,” she called out.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  When Sam opened his eyes, it was daylight. He was no longer in the wasteland around Pilot Rock. He was now reclining on a bed of moss next to a babbling brook.

  Sam touched his neck, expecting to find a gaping wound where the Shun Kara had bitten him. Instead, the skin was tender but otherwise fine. But Sam knew it had been real, that the twisted scar on Leo’s arm had been a result of that night. It didn’t make sense—there was no way Sam could have been there two years ago—but nonetheless, he believed it had happened. And Leo must have known and kept it to himself. His friend had some explaining to do.

  Feeling parched and sapped of energy, Sam drank heartily from the stream and washed his face. He wanted to rest, but he knew that sitting here wasn’t getting him any closer to his goal of finding Odin. Maybe the Yggdrasil tree was in this ancient forest.

  A woman’s scream came from Sam’s left. His heart lurched. The voice was familiar—it sounded like his mother’s. Was this another of Odin’s tests?

  At the mere thought of Abigail, a wave of longing washed over Sam. He missed her so much. He began running toward the sound, alarmed that she might be in danger. He jumped over a log, slid down a mossy bank, and tumbled into a wide clearing. He stood up and tried to see her.

  A wave of waist-high grass undulated like a bright curtain as far as he could see, shifting in the gentle breeze.

  “Samuel, come here.” Her voice floated across the grass, carried by the wind.

  Definitely his mother. And she sounded excited.

  “I’m coming!” he shouted, wading forward through the grass.

  “Samuel, I’m over here. Come on, you have to see this.”

  “Mom, wait for me!”

  The sharp blades of grass nicked his skin as he hurried forward, making him wince.

  Where was she? Why couldn’t he see her?

  Sam made it to the middle of the wide field. There was no sign of anything but rippling green waves. No trees, no rocks, nothing.

  “Mom!” he called. “Where are you?”

  “Over here,” came the reply.

  He headed in the direction of her voice, running as fast as he could.

  “Where?” He was sweating and agitated. “I can’t find you!”

  “Can’t you see me, Samuel?”

  Sam wasn’t getting anywhere. This can’t be real, he reasoned. Putting his hands over his ears, he tried to block her out, but he kept hearing her calling to him, and he couldn’t help himself from continuing his search.

  “Please! I can’t take this anymore!”

  Pushing forward, fighting back tears, Sam searched frantically for her. His shins were raw from slapping at the thick blades of grass. He ran and ran, chasing the voice that was just out of reach, until he could run no more. He came to a stop, breathless and spent.

  Sam looked around and once again couldn’t see anything but waves of grass spreading in every direction. He had to face the facts—this was just another of Odin’s magical manipulations. His mother wasn’t here in Asgard.

  “I’m right here.”

  And just when Sam had nearly given up all hope of finding his mother, he looked up and saw Abigail standing in front of him in a yellow dress, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. White flowers were woven into a crown around her temple, and the sun cast a golden halo around her.

  “Mom?” Sam stepped forward incredulously, reaching a hand out to touch her. She felt warm—she felt whole and real. Still, he hesitated. “Is it really you?”

  “Of course it’s me, silly. Who else would it be?”

  It seemed too good to be true, but at the moment, Sam was so overjoyed, he refused to believe it was another one of the island’s traps.

  Taking her son’s hand, Abigail drew Sam forward. “Come with me. I have so much to show you.”

  He followed her through the grass until they came to a clearing with drooping willow trees and floating insects that danced around her head. She laughed and held out her finger. A fat purple insect landed softly.

  “How did you get here?”

  His mother just looked down and smiled at him. She looked beautiful, radiant, and happy—as if this was where she belonged, and he belonged here with her. But something wasn’t right. A feeling of unease tickled the back of Sam’s neck.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting the
insect free to flutter around her head.

  “It doesn’t make any sense. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Of course I should,” she replied. “I belong with my son. That’s how it should be.”

  Sam stared at her, hoping and wishing with all his being that this was real. He was about to tell her the incredible news that Robert was still alive, when a terrible screech interrupted their reunion. The heavy sound of flapping wings rustled the leaves in the trees. Sam turned to scan the area, sensing danger.

  “Mom, you need to leave right now.”

  Sam pushed her away from him, but it was too late. A black, winged beast—an Omera, Mavery had called it—dropped out of the sky. It dug its claws into his mother, picking her up and launching itself away.

  “Mom!” he cried, running after them, reaching futilely for her dangling feet.

  The beast flapped its wings and dragged her higher into the sky.

  Sam’s heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest. He couldn’t bear losing her—he couldn’t. Not now.

  Anything but this.

  “No!” he shouted at the sky. “Take me instead!” But he was pleading with an empty field.

  Then, behind him, a second beast landed with an earthshaking thud. Sam turned as it arched its wings high, hissing as it prepared to charge. Sam didn’t hesitate as it launched itself at him, claws extended—he ducked and rolled under the creature and grabbed its tail as it passed over, twisting it to the ground.

  It sprang back up, pulling free of his grip, and paced around in a circle, its spiked tail arching high in the air as it hissed at Sam. He dodged a jab from its tail and rolled back on his feet. He was desperate to retrieve his mother, but he had no weapons, only his instincts and reflexes.

  That’s when Sam remembered he had magic. He was not just a Son of Odin; he was also a Son of Rubicus. In that moment, Sam knew exactly how to get his mom back: he must fly like that black demon that had snatched her.

  Sam positioned himself in front of the hissing creature and shook out his hands, preparing to cast what would be his greatest spell.