* * *
Larentii Archives
"You know what I think of this," Nefrigar placed an extinct grouse from Serendaan in stasis, so it could be examined by future Larentii students.
"I know." Pheligar watched his brother work while attempting to hide his discomfort.
"If you had made your feelings known long ago instead of muting them, you would not be faced with this dilemma now and she would be welcome on the Larentii homeworld."
"As it is, I cannot interfere in an attack upon her, because she is not my mate," Pheligar muttered.
"Yes, many things should be different," Nefrigar nodded, turning the grouse this way and that to search for its most pleasing angle in the display. "I understand you suppressed her power so the child would live, in order to preserve the Second's emotional balance."
"He has served past the required term—it is my fear he would retire and ask me to separate his particles, as is his right, should the child perish."
"Too many things weigh in the balance," Nefrigar agreed. "He is needed. She is needed and crippled at the moment. She is also in danger, due to her position and condition. Her oldest child's life is in danger. Her unborn child's life is in danger. If one or more of those things is destroyed, the race could die and the Ra'Ak may reign."
"Many times I wish it were within our power to approach the High Demons and remind them of their duties," Pheligar complained. "Yet there is nothing we can do and they remain on their world unless it pleases them to skip away for entertainment on other planets. They have become too full of themselves and too sure of their supremacy. Someday, that could prove false and create their downfall."
"The Wise Ones concur," Nefrigar agreed. "They also believe that this will be tied to the God Wars but I, as do they, hope those will be long in coming."
"There is no evidence as yet that any of the Three have appeared."
"That may be by design," Nefrigar pointed out. "There. Would you study this grouse if it were presented thus?" He stepped back from the display, which included plants and soil from its natural habitat.
"I would rather study the passenger pigeon from Earth," Pheligar sighed. "Extinct because it was tasty and easy to hunt," he shook his head. "But the grouse is quite fine, brother. Had I not known of the passenger pigeon, I would certainly study this one."
"Do you believe that humans may become the passenger pigeons to the Ra'Ak if the Saa Thalarr fall?" Nefrigar asked, turning his attention to his younger brother.
"I am afraid it would be so," Pheligar conceded.
* * *
Justin's Journal
"I have to work tonight; you have to work tomorrow," I said, holding Gina's hand as I walked her toward Dad's SUV. He was taking her and Sarah home, but Lynx had brought them in earlier. I think Sarah had a crush on Lynx already, because she'd stared at him after he dropped them off.
"We can go out after the party on Sunday, though," I pointed out before swooping in for a quick peck.
"That sounds great," Gina brightened. "How about a movie?"
"That's good," I said. "Anything you want."
"There's a comedy I want to see," she said, her voice turning shy.
"I like comedies," I shrugged. If it got me alone with her in a dark place, then I'd settle for watching anything.
"Good. Call me tomorrow before six," she said and waved before climbing into Dad's truck.
"Will do," I said and waved back.
"Get a snack and take a nap," Joey's hand dropped on my shoulder as Mack and I watched the truck pull out of the garage. "You have Florida to look forward to, tonight."
"I've never been to Florida," Mack said as we walked inside the house.
"Neither have I," I said.
"It's usually humid," Joey said. "And where you're going, it's filled with mosquitos. Not that they'll bother either of you," he held up a hand. "We repel them naturally."
"We're headed for the everglades and swampy area," I said. "Those FBI guys gonna be there waiting for us?"
"Your dad heard from them this afternoon. They want you to meet them at an office in Miami, then go on from there."
"Is that safe?" Mack asked.
"Yeah. Already checked out," Joey grinned. "Come on, snack time then nap time."
* * *
Adam's Journal
Pheligar was correct—something about this pregnancy was sapping my wife's strength. That shouldn't be. She was as feisty as ever during her pregnancy with Justin.
Karzac already informed me that every pregnancy could be different, but I still didn't understand this much difference. Martin had been a godsend, taking over the business for me so I could handle this. I still felt guilty about not driving her to the grocery store.
She wouldn't go alone next time, that's for sure.
"Adam, what are you fretting about?" she called from the bathroom. She'd gone to brush her hair after taking an afternoon nap.
"Not much," I said. "Want a snack?"
"I probably should so I won't get sick," she walked out, showing me that she'd braided her hair. "How many shields are around the strawberry farm?" she asked.
We'd started referring to our new home as the strawberry farm, and the name looked as if it would stick. "Mine," I said. "Dragon's, Lion's and Pheligar's. Is that enough?" I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly.
"It'll have to be," she nodded against my chest. That's when I knew how frightened she really was after the attack in a grocery store parking lot. She was terrified to leave home, now that she was effectively helpless.
I didn't tell her what I'd noticed on the way home. Four blocks from our house, on a street lined on both sides with tall oleanders, a car was parked on the side of the road. Randall Pierce and three of his friends sat inside it.
Waiting.
Raymond Pierce had bonded out of jail; I'd learned that the evening before. He and the others had assault charges filed, but as he hadn't committed murder and had bail money, there was no choice except to let him go until the case came to court.
I'd considered a protective order, but those were less effective than what I could level at the bastard if he didn't step back. It concerned me, too, that he could go looking for more friends of the scaled variety, or that they might go looking for him, for the same reasons.
He had no idea that when they got what they wanted from the transaction, he'd be on the menu, the same as any other human.
His son appeared to be following in his father's footprints, and watching whenever we came or went. That meant Justin and Gina would have to be shadowed on their date Sunday evening, but that could be accomplished easily and he'd never realize someone was there.
Joey and Bearcat would be ideal candidates—they could defend themselves easily and help Justin do the same if it proved necessary. Joey still held compulsion as a weapon, and I'd make sure he used it if required.
The Pierce family had become a nuisance to us, and I didn't want that to continue.
* * *
Justin's Journal
Joey got us up at seven, in time for dinner. Mom, Marlianna and Wolf cooked, with help from Lion and Bearcat. Steaks were on the menu, and that's what Lion and Bearcat were tending when we walked to the deck outside.
Dinner would be served on several picnic tables that had magically appeared from somewhere. It was a nice night for it, actually—the heat in the evenings was dissipating better, making it pleasant to eat outside.
"Smells good," Mack's stomach rumbled when we took seats at a picnic table. Trees and a patch of grass outlined the raised deck, and I wondered again at the talent and power it took to place trees that appeared as if they'd been there for decades amid grass that looked tended for nearly the same amount of time.
The guesthouse, a two-story rectangle that matched the main house, stood past that, trimmed with flowers, shrubs and plants that would survive in the Fresno sun. I recalled that I hadn't been inside it yet—that was Uncle Lion's and Aunt Marlianna's private residenc
e, so I needed an invitation.
"Look," Mack nodded toward the wall beside us. A tiny lizard, with rapid stop-and-go movements, made his way up the stone blocks.
"Cool," I said. He was a pale, grayish color, and against the color of the stones, almost impossible to see.
"You know, that gives me an idea," I said.
"What?"
"Camouflage," I said. "Is that possible for us, or are we gonna stick out like a sore thumb in the Everglades?"
"Did I hear you say camouflage?" Dad sat on the bench opposite ours and studied us across the thick-planked picnic table.
"Yeah. Is that possible?" I asked.
"Spawn eyesight is weaker than their scenting ability," Dad said. "But your idea is a sound one. Especially if you're camouflaged for sight, sound and scent."
"Can you do that for us?"
"I think that might be considered interference, but we haven't explored your talents, yet," he said. His brow furrowed for a moment, as if he were considering something. "The rest of us," he said after a few seconds, "got our talents when we were added to the Saa Thalarr. You, on the other hand, were born into it. That means we have no idea what you're able to do."
"You think I might be able to do some of the stuff you and Mom do?"
"I sure hope so. Without your mother's power, we're down a man, so to speak."
"Try this," The bench beside me creaked as Dragon settled his weight on it. He dropped a saltshaker in front of me. "Change it to look like pepper," he said. "Leave it salt on the inside; you'll be changing the superficial outside. That's important, because you don't want to get confused and turn Mack into a stand of cattails." I think he was kidding, because he grinned when he said it.
"I don't want to be cattails," Mack scooted away from me in mock terror.
"You won't be cattails," Dad chuckled. "That's not the way this works."
"Think of the shape in front of you," Dragon instructed. "See it in your mind, and then see it becoming a pepper shaker."
I tried. Really. It just wouldn't work for me. The saltshaker remained a saltshaker, no matter how hard I concentrated. My disappointment was palpable afterward—I felt as if I'd failed a test and I hated that.
"We'll try again in a month or two—this is still new for you and you haven't gotten comfortable with it," Dragon said, dropping a hand on my shoulder and standing up to stretch.
It worried me—what if I couldn't protect myself or those around me, because I just wasn't talented enough? There had to be levels of talent, after all. What if all I was able to do was turn to Wyvern and fight off spawn?
"I'll teach you to fly soon," Dragon said as he walked away.
"Fly?" I turned to Dad, my eyes wide with shock.
"You have wings," Dad shrugged. "It makes sense."
I blinked a time or two before shifting uncomfortably on the bench.
Flying.
Way up in the air.
What if I forgot how, suddenly, and dropped like a rock?
"Spawn don't fly," Dad pointed out. "Learning to fly would give you a definite advantage, as well as an avenue of escape."
"That would be useful," Mack said. "Can you give me a lift, dude?"
"I'd sure try if we needed to get the hell away," I said. "I just need to know how, first."
"It's this way," Mack said philosophically, "You spread your wings, I hop on your back and you take off. Easy."
"That werewolf of yours gonna hang on?" I teased right back.
"I got claws, man. Not as impressive as your dad's or Mr. Merrill's, but I got some."
"Sounds painful," I shook my head at him.
"Dude, you need to look at that wyvern in the mirror. I don't think much is gonna go through those scales."
"Let's take pictures," Joey arrived with his phone and a grin.
"Joseph," Mom warned as she walked onto the patio.
"It'll be encrypted. Nobody on this planet can get past that because they don't understand the language," he said.
That's when I knew that Joey's ordinary-looking cell phone contained alien technology.
The sneak.
"Turn, Justin. I'll take pictures," Joey grinned.
I did, because Mack had made me curious. I'd never thought much about it before. Jumping off the deck, I walked to the middle of our grassy area and became wyvern.
"Great," Joey said. "Spread your wings."
I only realized then that I'd never done that, either. Taking a deep breath, I did as he asked.
They were larger than I thought they'd be.
"They have to carry your weight, you know," Dragon stood beside Joey and studied my wings carefully. "The hand and claws attached are quite useful; I've watched you fight."
"I want a picture with my son," Mom said and walked up to join me.
"Say cheese," Joey said. I opened my mouth in what I hoped was a wyvernly grin.
"Dude, that's kinda scary," Mack made a face at me, making me laugh. Except it didn't sound like a laugh. More like a coughing growl, actually.
"Is he laughing or threatening us?" Bearcat carried a bowl of salad to the deck and set it down.
"I think it's a laugh," Mack said. "Dude, can you eat like that?"
"I'd suggest not doing it," Dad offered. "Salad just gets stuck in your teeth, and it's not easy brushing afterward."
That made me snort, and flames shot from my nose. "That's different," Mom said stepping away from me. "Dragon, you'll have to teach him to control fire-breathing."
"I see that. Anybody singed?" Dragon came to stand right in front of me.
"Nobody singed," Mack said. "He had it pointed away from us."
"Good." Dragon studied me, his arms, covered in tattoos below a short-sleeved polo, shoved firmly across his chest while he contemplated me. That was uncomfortable; I blinked first.
"Fire, if hot enough, will destroy spawn," he said. "But it must be hot enough to burn them to cinders, you understand? Normal fire will not harm them enough to stop an attack. I normally don't use it, because I have to add power for my fire to become hot enough. The Ra'Ak, if they are contesting a world, will destroy that world if they realize Saa Thalarr walk upon it."
"They hold that much power?" I was back to myself in a blink and struggling to understand Dragon's words.
"As do some of us," Dragon nodded. "It is not something to employ lightly."
"Here," Joey held his cell phone up and scrolled through the photographs he'd taken. Sure enough, I was a red-gold wyvern, looking similar to a dragon but on a smaller scale. After all, I'd seen Uncle Dragon's dragon. He was huge. I wasn't even half that size.
Dragon patted my shoulder and chuckled. "It's not the size, it's the courage," he said.
"Time to eat," Mom announced, stopping the conversation. I was grateful—worry gnawed at me more than hunger did, and I had no idea what to do about it.
* * *
Merrill and Radomir looked grim as we prepared to leave for Florida shortly after sunset. Mack and I stood together in the kitchen while Dad and Dragon prepared to transport us to Miami.
Dude, I'm getting a weird feeling about all this, Mack used mindspeech.
You and me, both, I agreed. I'm starting to feel like we don't know what's going on—not really, anyway, and I think Dad, Dragon and the others are beginning to think the same.
You think it's a trap? Mack asked.
I don't know what to think anymore, I forced myself not to shiver.
Dad's still working with his Pack and part of the Sacramento Pack, Mack said. They've found a few spawn here and there, and they've managed to kill them, but he says it's like somebody just dropped them from above, because there's no trail to follow until they're right on top of those things.
What? I blinked at Mack is surprise.
"Ready?" Dad asked, peering around Merrill.
"Yeah." I wasn't, but how could I tell Dad that?
* * *
Sure, the outside of the FBI building in Miami was different from the
one in Dallas, but inside, it was much the same. Agents White and Renfro waited for us in a large meeting room that held a huge table in the center. Agent White explained that they’d done research on the area after we’d informed them of the spawn there.
"We have water if you want it," Agent Renfro offered as we took seats around the table. A large screen was lowered at the end of the table, and I figured we'd get to see slides or a video.
I wasn't wrong. Once those of us who wanted it had a bottle of water, the room darkened and the show started. The everglades looked much like the television footage I'd seen before—swampy areas with high trees and shallow waterways that looked like fields of tall grasses. Airboats could be employed to navigate the narrow, open waters lying between.
Photographs of alligators came next; Mack yawned.
However, when the large footprints of an unusual creature appeared on the screen, we sat up and paid attention.
"We don't know what made these tracks," Agent White said. "We have two missing rangers and several fishermen whose cars were parked in the same spot for a week. Missing persons reports have been filed on three of those, but we don't have specific numbers as yet to understand how many are really missing."
"This isn't good," Dragon said quietly.
"You know what that is?" White pointed at the print left in soft mud. A ruler had been set beside the print, and the indentation was more than twice as long as the ruler's standard twelve inches.
"I've seen one before, and this one shouldn't be here, just as the other one shouldn't have been." Dragon's half frown would have frightened Chihuahuas and small children.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Agent White asked.
"That isn't local," Dad offered. "It had to be transported here. If there are spawn in the area, it's a toss-up whether they attacked the rangers and fishermen, or whether the kapirus got them instead."
"Spawn can transport something that big?" Agent White asked in disbelief.
"Spawn can't transport anything—they have to be transported or shoved through a gate," Dad offered cryptically.
"You called it a kapirus?" Agent Renfro asked. "What is that, exactly?"
"Something that finds human blood a delicacy," Dragon answered. "They're water demons; scaled amphibians that prefer fresh water, but they'll swim in saltwater if forced to do so. The Everglades has both, posing no problem for these creatures; they normally drink the blood of wild mammals. To them, the blood of a humanoid is preferable to anything else, but they'll take whatever they can get if humans aren't available."
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