Convergence (Winter Solstice Book 1)

by J. R. Rain

  The first thought I have is that my birth parents died trying to get me to the gateway to hide me from whatever killed them. Or maybe something happened to our home and some random villager rushed me off to safety in the aftermath of a gruesome battle. Maybe someone tripped and gashed their hand on a tree and all the happy little elves are still in the woods baking cookies.

  Ugh.

  “Andre?”

  He looks over, chewing.

  “You said you were here to protect me, but you never did say why me. You feel magical, but you don’t know any magic. I―”

  “You’re wondering if I’m part of that order you’re snooping on.” He smiles. “No. I am not. Listen to your instincts, Solstice.”

  Minutes of staring do nothing to change the protectiveness I get from him. “I trust you. Why are you tingly? How did you see me for what I was before?”

  He laughs. “I am what you would call a numina.”

  Oh. “Are you hiding your appearance?”

  “The answer to that question is both yes and no.”

  I chase some romaine around the tray with a plastic fork. “Can I ask what sort of numina you are?”

  “Why do people ask if they can ask questions? By asking the question, you’ve already asked a question.”

  Giggling, I shake my head. “You should write up a calendar of sayings. Well I suppose that’s why you agreed to come with me to something that could be dangerous.” I assume he’s being cryptic because we have an audience via my earrings, so I don’t push.

  “It’s almost time. Let us go.” Andre closes up his empty tray and drops it in the cooler.

  I toss mine in and collect my backpack and cat. Mr. Moody curls up atop the pack behind my head. He’s been an indoor cat his whole life. Hope that stuff the vet puts on him for fleas actually works. The sun’s well on its way down, but it’s not full dark yet. The air’s taken on a bit of a chill up in the mountains, and I’m wishing I’d brought something thicker than a sweatshirt.

  There’s no sign of Jade or Agent Prince, or anything that shouts FBI aside from a van with markings for a satellite internet company parked a few houses away. Andre walks west along Spruceton Road toward the three-way intersection with the perfect little pine tree. Soon, we cross Route 42 and force our way into the dense copse on the other side. Not too far in, we spot a small house on our left, but it’s dark. I wonder if that’s where the OSA creeps are staying, or if they’re borrowing someone else’s field for the night.

  A relatively thin swath of forest gives way to a rolling grassy meadow surrounded by trees that taper closer together in the west. Seven figures in black, hooded robes stand in a line by the narrow point, a channel between woods that opens into someone’s backyard. They all have their hands tucked into their sleeves like monks.

  In case my earrings have no cameras, I mutter, “Seven people, robes.”

  We walk up to them, Andre a half stride behind me on the right. I stop at a safe distance still close enough to talk without raising my voice.

  “Bertrand?”

  The center figure raises his head and takes a step toward me. He’s wearing a white face covering with bulging gold-painted eyes under a comically furrowed brow, gold horns, and gold fangs showing from an exaggerated smile. It resembles a Japanese Noh mask. The grin is wide enough to show a hint of human lips behind it. “Welcome, Solstice Winters.”

  Whoa. I lean back. That’s not Bertrand; his voice is too deep. The others’ masks are plain white and genderless, like mannequin faces. All six remain still, black, soulless eyes staring at me. I know it’s probably see-through mesh, but the effect is striking―and scary.

  “Who is this?” The demon points behind me. Black spirals adorn the mask at the temples beneath each horn.

  “A friend,” I say. “You didn’t really expect a girl to come out to the middle of nowhere all alone, did you?”

  Demon chuckles. “Fair enough. You have arrived. Have you prepared yourself to join us?”

  Hold on. “I didn’t tell Bertrand I would join. I told him I’d hear what you had to say first. I don’t know anything about you… and a bunch of guys standing in a field at dusk in demon masks and robes is kinda weird.”

  “Only one is wearing a demon mask,” whispers Mr. Moody in my ear.

  Literal kitty.

  Demon spreads his arms, revealing weathered, well-tanned hands. “What is it you wish to know?”

  “For starters, I couldn’t find any mention of your order. Some other, umm, practitioners I know have also never heard of you.”

  “Our order has been dormant for ages, but we are now on the cusp of a new age.” Demon brings his hands together.

  I swipe my fingers over my right ear, pulling my hair away and scratching the back of my head. If there’s a camera in the earring, the fidgety gesture should give it a clear view. “Because of the Convergence… alternate dimensions sliding together?”

  The six figures in robes exchange glances.

  “Not entirely. Closer than they have been in the past,” says Demon. “You have not heard of our order because we have not desired to be known. Since the Waning, our numbers dwindled to a mere handful. Only those with the strongest connection to The Echo remained. Many great families fell by the wayside and forgot their true grandeur. The Convergence has reawakened magic in our world, and the Order shall return to its former greatness.”

  “Do you think it’s a little strange that a numina attacks a CERN scientist only a few days before the experiment that might’ve caused all of this?” I ask. “And the woman doesn’t even report the attack?”

  Demon tilts his head to the left. I think he’s smiling. Hard to tell. “Three weeks ago, if a shaz-alor flew into your apartment, would you have notified the authorities?”

  “No, I would’ve tried to get its picture and write an article about it. I’m not a normal citizen.”

  Andre and Mr. Moody chuckle.

  “All right. That is a fair observation. Dr. Kumar, as most commoners, is not equipped to handle the existence of such beings. By the time she stopped panicking, she’d already gotten on a plane and forgotten about the matter entirely. Mental self-defense.”

  This guy thinks he’s slick. “I never said anything about a shaz-alor.”

  “Oh, I know you know. I also know you suspect there is more to Dr. Kumar than one might observe. Or should I say, more to what appears to be Dr. Kumar. We saw an opportunity far too good to waste. The woman could not be convinced, so we took steps to encourage the experiment to go a certain way. A few modifications to the parameters intended to bring the realms closer.”

  “All right, so you had something to do with her disappearance as well as the malfunction in the experiment? Why are you interested in me?”

  “Careful,” whispers Mr. Moody. “He is being too free with information. I think he expects you will not be walking away from this meeting.”

  My jaw tightens. I glance sideways at Andre, who seems to get the hint.

  “My dear Miss Winters,” says Demon. “You are perhaps one of the five most magically potent beings on this side of the veil… at least for the time being. You are in a special position. Most numina are beasts. Magical, yet beneath the reason of humanity. Your kind represent a fusion of magic and intellect that is at least our equal. Our order is for those who practice the art. The time of commoners is in decline. Soon, the world so dominated by the mundane will give way to a new age of power. It is our goal to shift the status quo. Magic shall become the driving force and those who lack it will assume their proper place in society as they have relegated us to the shadows of contempt and myth.”

  Oh boy.

  Demon offers his hand. “Join us, ushering in the new age. Become the first of the immortals. With your power, we shall reawaken Atlantis from its long, silent slumber and establish our kingdom.”

  This guy is batshit nuts.

  Mr. Moody’s whiskers tickle the side of my neck. “They probably mean to make you immor
tal by fusing your life essence into a ritual. You’re a pointy-eared battery. Unless you fancy the idea of a grisly―likely excruciatingly painful―death, I suggest we… what is that phrase you like? Haul ass?”

  So much for infiltrating them and getting information. The cat’s got a point. They want me too bad, and they’re basically calling me a ‘powerful magical creature.’ I already came as close as I care to being stuffed in a kennel. And the MIBs weren’t running a kill shelter like these guys. No thanks.

  I lean back, eyeing Demon’s hand. “This isn’t going to like, involve any umm, elf sacrifice or stuff like that, is it?”

  “Of course not.” Demon suppresses a laugh. “You’ve been watching too many bad movies.”

  My eyebrows go flat. “I’m not the ones wearing robes and masks.”

  They stare at me in silence.

  “Okay. Umm. Look.” I clap my hands together and grasp them at my chest. “That’s a lot to process, yanno? Raising Atlantis… new age of power. I think it’s gonna be a hard pass on the whole ‘taking over the world’ thing. Not really my style. I’m a photographer. I don’t really feel the evil mastermind vibes.”

  They don’t say anything.

  Stepping back, I point both index fingers off to the right. “This elf is just gonna go hug a few trees, maybe pet a rabbit or two, burn some incense. ‘Kay?”

  “I thought you might hesitate.” Demon reaches into his robe.

  Andre jumps in front of me, but the cultist only takes out a giant iPhone. My protector relaxes, but doesn’t move. Demon holds the screen up and taps it. Video plays… of my sister. I step around Andre, heart pounding. Eva’s lying on a bed, her arms stretched up to either side handcuffed to bedposts, thrashing and screaming. Her ‘goth Hello Kitty’ tee and fluffy black skirt mean they likely grabbed her on the way back from school. She never wears that stuff around the house―strictly pajamas indoors. The terror in her eyes squeezes my hands into fists.

  “You fucking kidnapped my sister.”

  “We secured a human related to the mages who looked after you. She, too, has a powerful gift. Our time stall did not affect her. It is a pity she is no Val’nathiri, however her proximity to you on top of her unusual innate talent may also work for the ritual.” Demon chuckles, a deep, reverberating noise that makes me want to blow that mask straight off his face. “Unless, of course, you change your mind.”

  Time stall… no wonder our parents didn’t call me worried sick about Eva… and gotten the police and our entire community rallied up. They might still be frozen in time, like Ethan was.

  I narrow my eyes. I gotta come up with something fast, but I’m too angry to think.

  Damn.

  ury wells up inside me, pushing aside rational thought.

  I roar, “Where the fuck is she!?” and lash out. My rage blooms outward into a manifestation of energy, a Lance, flying for Demon’s gold-horned face. He flings his arms up, wrists crossed. The violet bolt ricochets off a point in space inches from him, knocking him back in a stagger, and nails the last guy on the left square in the face.

  Bits of Noh mask explode in all directions, tiny smoking comets raining to the grass. Teeth missing, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, the man falls straight down like a sack of wheat without so much as a moan.

  Demon points at me. “That girl is safe for the moment. Whether she remains so is up to you.”

  “These people cannot be reasoned with.” Andre tilts his head side to side, making his neck pop. He bounces on his toes and drops into a fighting stance.

  “Use the static charm,” whispers Mr. Moody.

  Great idea. “Jade, now would be a good time.” I raise my hands almost in surrender, but push forward a wave of magic. A faint white glimmer rolls away from me, brushing the grass like a breeze and expanding in a ring. Nothing electronic within like a hundred yards is going to work for a while. No one’s calling kidnappers and ordering them to kill Eva. Of course, that takes out Jade’s ears too. Oh well.

  “Secure the elf. Kill the dogsbody.” Demon flings a glob of energy at me.

  I’m not sure how he did that deflection thing, so I opt to duck. A rake of needles brushes over my cheek from being close to the melon-orange light, but the pain fades in an instant. Three men rush Andre while the other two charge my way. Crap. Nowhere in the job description for photojournalist did anyone ever mention a hand-to-hand combat requirement.

  One points a taser at me. The barbs launch, nailing me in the left arm and thigh, but it doesn’t zap when he clicks the trigger. Still. Ow. A spell Mom called Ouchie comes in handy. She used it on me as a kid to get rid of splinters. Works on taser barbs too.

  Andre weaves around the lead man’s grab and punches him in the jaw hard enough to push him airborne. The crack of bone on bone makes me cringe. I rush a Lance at the other man coming for me, but Demon waves his hand and my bolt bends around the cultist, hitting dirt. He wheezes, and for a second, his real eyes show clear inside the oversized gold-painted demon ones. I’m almost too strong for him. Wow, maybe I should practice more.

  Taser boy tosses it aside, muttering, “Piece of shit.” He rushes at me.

  Valor, thy better part is discretion. I run, yelling, “Andre, go!”

  A few steps later, a rubbery impact with magical tingles at my shins sweeps both my legs out. I’m airborne for a second or two that feels like six before eating grass and sliding on my face. The two cultists pounce on me and haul me up, pinning my arms and legs. Mr. Moody springs on one, howling like a banshee. Somehow, they hadn’t noticed the cat at all until that point, as the sudden eruption of screeching and yowling startles yelps out of them. I almost wriggle loose amid their confusion, but the guy grabs my hair. Ow. Bastard.

  Andre disappears somewhere under a pile of three robed men. Demon’s standing a short distance away doing the ‘evil mastermind glare.’

  “Get off me!” I growl and squirm, but I’m nowhere near strong enough for these two to notice. They hold me down as easily as men overpowering a small child. “Andre!”

  The three other cultists appear to be pummeling him into the dirt. I can’t even see him under the mess of black robes and blurry fists. The man holding my legs releases one arm to grab Mr. Moody and throw him into the meadow. The guy’s mask is twisted, probably blocking his sight. I shriek in anger and yank my right leg away from him before stomping him in the face, cracking the mask. He stumbles back, dazed, but my feet don’t reach the ground. The other one’s got me in a bear hug, pinning my wrists together at my chest.

  Demon takes a pair of medieval-looking manacles out of his robe.

  Oh, shit.

  A pulse of magical energy emanates from the pile of cultists, making Demon hesitate in his approach. Glimmering emerald light bursts out the gaps between bodies, expanding into a glowing orb at least ten feet wide that tosses all three robed OSA men into the air. The energy brightens and condenses into an enormous jade-feathered eagle with glowing eyes of brilliant green. Downdraft from the wings almost knocks me and the guy holding me over.

  Andre, or whatever he is, faces Demon and lets off a screech that rings in my ears. I thought the griffon was loud, but ouch! I can’t hear a damn thing afterward. The arms around me slacken. I crunch forward and then drive my head back into the guy’s face. He stumbles away, losing his grip and dropping me to my feet. I whirl to chase Mr. Bear Hug with a Lance, hurling a violet beam into his shoulder with a broken-bone crack. He flips into the air in a logroll and lands on his chest, moaning.

  Andre sets his taloned feet down and snaps at one of the men who’d jumped on him. The cultist shrieks like a little boy and falls over backward in his haste to flee.

  Demon raises his hand at Andre, and a hair-thin strand of lightning connects his fingertips to the humungous bird for a fraction of a second. Andre twitches, barely registering anything having happened. Demon backpedals. Crackling lightning spreads out over a set of wings that’d give a Cessna inadequacy issues. The web of blue sp
arks gathers at the huge eagle’s breast; a half-breath later, two jagged streaks of blue-white connect the bird’s luminous eyes to Demon’s chest with a bang louder than a gunshot that rolls over the meadow.

  The head cultist collapses in a heap, twitching.

  Taser man adjusts his mask so he can see again, and shifts his head back and forth between Andre and me. For a second, I think he’s going to try and rush at me anyway, until flashlights come up behind us.

  “FBI. Everyone down!” shouts a man.

  “On the ground!” roars Jade.

  Demon slams his hand on the dirt, and a tear opens up in reality, a hole into a concrete-walled tunnel. He’s through and gone before my brain unjams from witnessing magic like that―not that I could’ve done much but thrown a Lance at him or turned his hair pink.

  Jade, Agent Prince, and three other guys with flashlights and Glocks run up to us. I raise my hands, but they ignore me. They also (much to my surprise) ignore Andre, and go after the remaining cultists. Numb, I stare at the huge, emerald-feathered bird. Two cultists run. Agent Prince aims at one, shouting, “Stop,” but the man keeps going.

  Before Prince can make good on his warning, Andre springs skyward, stirring up a giant blast of air that pelts me with dirt and grass bits. He swoops and grabs the man in one foot, carrying him around in a sweeping turn that also intercepts the second cultist.

  “What on Earth am I looking at?” asks Jade after sidling up to me.

  “They’ve got Eva.” I want to panic or cry, but I’m too pissed off. I grab Jade’s shoulders and stare into her eyes. “They took my kid sister.”

  She puts a hand on mine. “We’ll find her. Focus, Sol. What happened here? We lost feed for some reason.”

  Andre glides overhead. Two cultists hit the ground hard and roll. Prince and the others collect them in zip cuffs before dragging them over to sit with the others. The man who kissed my initial Lance still hasn’t come to.