by O J Barré
Emily fished a crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her bloody nose and brow. God, it was hot. The temperature was rising too fast. Sweat gathered on her forehead and under her arms and trickled between her boobs.
Cu panted, his long tongue dripping beads of saliva. Damp hair curled around the men’s smudged faces, and their cuts and gashes oozed blood. Wisps of vapor rose from the rift, along with something else—the stench of rotten eggs.
Heat by itself was not good. Heat and sulfur? Very not good. Especially since Atlanta was perched atop the long-extinct Brevard Fault. She needed to get to the edge to confirm her suspicions.
“No!” barked Hamilton, reading Emily’s mind. “Even a slight shiver and you’ll end up in the bottom of that pit. If it has a bottom. No way am I letting that happen.”
Emily knew he was right, but still. “Da, I suspect we’re on top of a volcano that’s about to blow. Feel that heat? Smell the rotten eggs?”
They all nodded. Brian scrunched his nose. Lugh wiped sweat and blood from his brow.
“Take my hand,” she told him with feigned confidence.
Lugh did, without hesitation, keeping his eyes glued to hers. “I trust you Emmy. You can do this.”
His words filled her with resolve. She could do this. Lugh believed in her.
Slowly, she slid her foot toward the edge, and the earth shuddered. Only different this time. Like the wavy-gravy jiggle of liquefaction.
The chills broke cold along Emily’s spine. Adrenaline pumping, she squeaked an alert and shoved them all sideways, away from their refuge toward the edge of the crevasse.
Seconds later, they teetered precariously, as the little patch of asphalt melted away and the chain-link fence disappeared. Close to her ear, Brian let out a blood-curdling scream as the earth disintegrated at their feet, heaving a mighty “WHUMP!”
Dirt and debris spewed high in the sky and rained down upon them.
Pelted by rocks and chunks of the park, they reeled in disbelief, clinging to one another as the fissure groaned and split in two, exposing the iron-rich underbelly of the earth. On the facing slope, a screaming gorilla let go of an uprooted tree just in time to be rescued by the Silverback, while the tree cartwheeled into the abyss.
But it didn’t stop there. A new sensation vibrated beneath their feet.
The mangled fence shot back into view and kept on going, taking Emily and the others along for the ride. In slo-mo, the entire shelf on which they crouched rose into the air like an elevator.
Terrified, yet thrilled, Emily clung to Brian, Lugh, and Cu, as they shot into the air, higher and higher, atop the forming mountain. With a groan and a lurch, their perch finally reached its zenith and halted with a jerk, throwing them all to the ground.
Emily scrambled up, wiping grit from her eyes. Intent on finding the epicenter, she left it to Lugh to make sure Brian and Cu were okay. She peered through the thick, roiling dust.
From this vantage point, she could just make out a cloud of steam rising in the southeast near the reptile house. Beneath the plume, Emily recognized the red stream of doom—a rooster tail of lava spurting from the earth.
It was as she had feared. Beneath Zoo Atlanta was a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Civil-defense sirens caterwauled, loud and urgent, warning residents near and far of impending danger. Smoke billowed high in the sky. Zoo employees shepherded screaming patrons away from the pooling lava and the fires spreading in its wake. Helicopters circled overhead. The air grew thicker, hotter.
The building pressure would blow them sky high and the zoo would be inundated in molten lava inside a minute. And if the release-blast was strong enough? Atlanta and all its surrounding cities would be destroyed as well, vanishing beneath miles of flowing lava.
Emily glanced back at Lugh and Brian, and the wolfhound Cu, bearing the spirit of her father. Collectively, they had come to mean more to Emily in six short weeks than anyone ever had. She couldn’t lose them now. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Suddenly, understanding dawned. She thought of Lugh’s words in the cemetery and related them to Einstein’s adage for the first time. Knowledge is what is, and nothing more. But, imagination creates what is.
As the truth resonated within her being, Emily knew what to do.
Aóme still rode her right forefinger. She shoved the other hand in her pocket and clutched the Otter Stone. The lava plume grew larger, shooting from the epicenter to rain down on hysterical animals and people. Feeling their searing pain as her own, Emily raised both arms overhead and sent energetic roots into the earth.
Thus grounded, she called on the spirits of the elements—first Earth, then Fire, Water, and Air. Power sizzled through Aóme and the talisman burned in her fist. Emily closed her eyes to shut out the chaos going on around her, and her mother’s face flashed in her mind.
“Stop your posturing, young lady. You’ll never amount to a hill of beans.”
The familiar slur cut Emily to the bone. All she could think of was escape. Her eyes flew open. She took one stride and realized she was trapped on a promontory with nowhere to run. Heart in her throat, the panic expanded until Emily trembled with certainty. She was going to die. Along with everyone else.
“What’s wrong, Em?” Her Da’s reassuring voice broke through the suffocating terror. “Try again, little wren. I’m here beside you.”
She gasped for breath, sucking in the sulfuric fumes. The plume had grown larger still, and the wind blew the fouled air in their direction. Pandemonium reigned.
From the corner of her eye, Emily caught a flash and dropped to all fours, cringing in terror.
An enormous dragon, crimson and flaming, rose from the pooling lava and roared. Its red wings stretched wide, making it the largest creature Emily had ever encountered. She could feel its malice. And it was aimed at her.
Her friends surrounded her, but all Emily could see was the dragon in the fire. All she could hear were the screams of the dying and injured. Their anguish poured out and multiplied, pounding Emily into submission. She cowered, unfazed by Lugh’s ministrations or her Da’s exhortations. It was Emily and the dragon, and he wanted payback.
Bile rose in Emily’s throat and the hotdog she’d eaten came back up, as gross the second time as it had been the first. She retched again and the dragon screeched. From below the earth came an answering roar. The earth shook and the Hum grew louder beneath their feet. Sirens screamed, approaching the zoo.
The hum morphed into a melodious voice in Emily’s head, “Tienu, you promised. Bring Awen to me.” Her quaking insides calmed just a little.
Then something let go, and Emily could see and hear again. The air was hot and thick with smoke and noxious fumes. Rescue workers sprayed water and foam on the lava and fires, ignoring the dragon. Could they not see him?
“Dragon!” she yelled as loud as she could. The priest and wolfhound loomed above her. Brian hung back, wringing his hands.
“Don’t you see it? It’s humongous!” she gasped, pointing.
Lugh and Cu wagged puzzled heads.
“No, Emily, there is no dragon,” her Da said firmly. “Are you okay? You’ve got to pull it together.”
Lugh helped her stand and stuck his nose against hers. “Focus, Em. You have to stop the volcano before it blows.”
Emily looked out at the reptile house. The dragon was there, but it had crouched beneath the rooster tail in the middle of the lava pool.
The smoke haze cleared and Emily suddenly found herself on the side of a very different mountain—one covered in snow. Her heavy robe was made of fur pelts, her hair much longer. It whipped in the wind and stung her cheeks.
Against her right hip, Cu stood. Hope pressed against her left knee. Four dragons were bowed before Emily—one fiery red, the second a shimmering blue, the third glittered rainbows, and the last glowed silver with transparent wings.
Emily, as Awen, lifted her hand. Aóme glittered on her first finger, but on her ring f
inger, a chunk of sapphire threw multicolored sparks, and on her chest, a ruby pendant blazed. She raised her left hand and the dragons stood. From that forefinger, a brilliant diamond flashed, emitting a beam of light that split into three and connected with the other stones.
Power surged through Emily and a heavenly voice rang sweet in her head, “Now, Awen! Do it, now!”
She opened her eyes to find herself standing in the same position, arms overhead. Only, a holocaust surrounded her. Lava spurted, fouling the air with sulfuric acid that stank of rotten eggs.
Quickly, she spoke the simple spell from the night of the blizzard.
“Earth, Fire, Water, and Air,
I command you to calm and still foree’er.”
Sparks flew from Aóme, with a brilliant green ray that shot from the emerald straight into the earth. The lava plume calmed to a slow trickle, then fizzled altogether.
Inside her head, a velvety voice whispered, “Well done, Emily Bridget. Well done.”
Her legs gave way and Emily collapsed amidst the rocks and rubble, plummeting into a black, bleak world where she wandered alone; deaf, mute, and bereft of feeling. All, that is, except loss.
“Wake up, Emily, you did it! You did it!”
Brian’s high-pitched voice pierced the sinister fog. Emily’s eyelids fluttered and the teen chirped, “You did it, you did it. You saved us!” But she couldn’t move, or speak.
Lugh kneeled beside her, face close to hers, “Emmy, are you okay?”
He shook her shoulder and she woke at his touch, filled with an ecstasy she’d known once before. She blinked eyelids that were heavy and full of grit. Lugh’s dancing eyes gazed into hers.
With a start, Emily realized she was in a heap on the ground, with sharp rocks digging into her backside. She struggled to her knees with Lugh’s help.
Brian threw his arms around her waist. “Thank you, Emmy, you saved my life.”
Lugh wrapped his arms around both of them. “You saved my life, too. Thank you, Em.”
“And mine,” her Da barked, rearing on hind legs.
He propped a paw on Emily’s shoulder and the other between Brian and Lugh. They lingered that way for a long time, clinging to one another, grateful to be alive. When they were done with their own private celebration, they slowly unwound and separated.
Below them, the lava had indeed stopped flowing. The firemen worked to contain the fires. Paramedics swarmed, treating injuries, and news crews gawked from copters overhead. The dragon was gone. The earth had calmed.
“It worked,” Emily sighed. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it, dear one,” her Da said proudly. “We all knew you could. Now you know, too.”
Gentle, so as not to disturb her wounds, Lugh pulled her against him and laid his hands on either side of Emily’s face. With deliberate tenderness, he kissed her in the way of the druid; forehead, nose, chin, eyelids, cheeks, and finally, Emily’s mouth.
Cu and Brian cheered them on.
Brimming with pride and exhilaration, Emily melted into the dark priest’s arms and surrendered to his magical kiss.
Below the new peak, near the Scaly Slimy Spectacular Reptile House, two red eyes blinked and sank into the cooling lava.
THE END
LEAVE A REVIEW
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Thank you for reading Awen Rising. If you enjoyed it, and I hope you did, please leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, Bookbub, Net Galley, or any other site that accepts book reviews.
Be on the lookout for:
UPCOMING BOOKS BY O. J. BARRÉ
The Awen Series:
Book Two, Awen Storm, is slated for release in 2020.
Book Three, Awen Tide, arrives in 2021.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First of all, I’d like to thank my mama and daddy, Jean and Yank Herrell, for doing the deed that brought me into this world. Daddy, thank you for instilling your love for the earth and its glorious creatures; Mama for passing on your love of the written word and for always being there when I needed you. To my brothers, Bill and Jon, you have left this planet to join our parents, but you will ever live inside my heart.
To my sister, Cherry (whom everyone calls Cheryl), thank you for being my childhood reading buddy, my lifelong friend and sounding board, and a shining example for us all. Your and Don’s undying love and support have kept me going through good times and bad.
Grandmother Willoughby Herrell, you always knew that I was special. Thank you for encouraging my curiosity, answering my endless questions, and for teaching me the names of every plant, flower, and growing thing in your vast yard. But more, thank you for being a veritable force at a time when women weren’t allowed.
To my ninth grade English teacher Mrs. Lucy Harris, thank you for recognizing my gift with words. I wish I had understood the import of your revelation, rather than waiting a lifetime to start writing. To the college English Comp teacher whose name I don’t remember, thank you. You raised my hackles and my awareness, and taught me to write an essay or argument that can stand the test of time. I only hope that holds true for novels.
To Andrew Post, Roland Yeomans, Eric Trant, Elliot Grace, and all the other authors and kind souls who read my blog, That Rebel with a Blog, thank you. Your feedback helped me find my voice, that elusive quality every writer must have. To you, I owe my writing life. Without you, this book would not exist in its present form.
For those who read the early versions of Awen Rising, your feedback helped shape the final story. Thank you to authors Liv Rancourt, Charlotte Gruber, Eric Trant, Lara Bujold Clouden, Amanda Helander, and Lauren Willmore; writing partner Debra Holm; and friend and fellow bodyworker, Janine Willey.
Thank you to Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm. Your book The Druid Animal Oracle provided inspiration for Awen Rising’s animal characters.
And finally, to my publishing team, Editor Charlie Knight and Cover Artist Lauren Willmore, thank you for treating my manuscript with love and respect. You took Awen Rising and made it shine like a bestseller, and for that, I am forever grateful.
COPYRIGHT, ETC.
PEACEMAKERS PUBLISHING COMPANY, JULY 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Olivia J. Herrell, writing as O.J. Barré
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For information, please address the publisher at:
PeaceMakers Publishing
14505 N Presidio Loop
Nampa, ID 83651
[email protected]
[email protected]
https://www.ojbarre.com
For information about special discounts available for quantity purchases and orders by trade bookstores, wholesalers, book clubs, etc; or for film options, translation rights, etc, please contact the publisher at one of the above addresses.
Awen Rising is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of this work. Certain long-standing locales, events, institutions, agencies, and public offices are mentioned, but the characters involved are wholly imaginary. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s.
PeaceMakers Publishing eBook ISBN: 978-1-7332736-0-2
Cover Design © 2019 by Lauren Willmore
Edited by Charlie Knight
First Printing, 2019
Printed in the United States of America
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
> O. J. Barré hails from the lushly forested, red-clay hills near Atlanta, Georgia where this story takes place. From birth, O.J. was a force of nature. Barefoot and freckled, headstrong and gifted, she was, and is, sensitive to a fault. Books became her refuge as a young child, allowing O.J. to escape her turbulent alcoholic home on adventures to untold places and times. Her daddy’s mother was a Willoughby, making O.J. a direct descendant of William the Conqueror. Her Awen series is a love letter to that distant past.
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