Shattering Earth: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Magic of Nasci Book 4)

by DM Fike

  Shattering Earth

  Magic of Nasci, Book #4

  DM Fike

  Avalon Labs LLC

  Copyright © 2020 DM Fike

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ASIN: B08FGK9RM5

  Cover design by: Avalon Labs LLC

  For Sandra. Hope the fox lore lives up to your standards.

  CHAPTER 1

  WHEN GUNTRAM ASKED Euchloe and me to assist tracking a vaettur called a boobrie, I had to stifle a chuckle. My augur’s extended explanation of its powers did nothing to strike fear into my heart. So what if it could camouflage into its surroundings and had razor-like talons? As far as I could tell, it sounded like a dumb bird named after mammary glands.

  How bad could it be?

  Hours later, I found myself dashing for my life through a forested hillside not far from Dunes City, Oregon. Trees whipped past my hoodie at dizzying speeds as I fled downhill. Turning my head, I could hear the boobrie’s kite-like wings flapping, its jagged beak snapping, but I couldn’t see it very well. It had all the advantage as it swooshed above me, attempting to bite me in two. I drew sigils for wind gusts to keep it at bay, but that didn’t seem to slow its pursuit.

  Unless I changed tactics, I’d be bird meat.

  “Guntram!” I cried, but no one answered.

  The boobrie had caught all of us off guard, rising out of nowhere on a ridge as we scoured the canopy of the Willamette National Forest. It knocked Euchloe, pale and rail thin as the nearby birches, down a steep embankment with a slap of its fur-like feathers. Guntram jumped down to rescue her, air sigils bursting from his hands.

  The attack should never have happened. Vaetturs rarely ambush shepherds, especially not three at once. They’re creatures of Letum, trespassing on our world to feed off the natural energy of Nasci, the goddess who lives in the center of our planet and sustains us with her lifeforce. Vaetturs hunt forest creatures and spirit animals called dryants. Shepherds live (and sometimes die) to protect them. We have an arsenal of magical attacks up our sleeves. Most vaetturs prefer to munch in peace away from us.

  But I couldn’t tell that to the saggy-necked bird raging behind me. The closer it came, the more its camouflage wore off. It swiped pointed wingtips toward me, intending to slice me. I threw water streams at it, which it batted away, beak clacking like a wind-up toy. It went for my throat and bit close enough that the sound rang in my ears, rotting fishy breath turning my stomach. Fortunately, my defensive shield kicked in, and it couldn’t quite close its jaw around me, getting a bite-full of invisible barrier instead.

  “Missed me!” I cried. I tried to pull away, but something resisted. I yanked hard, a pressure building along my nape, digging into my spine. Grimacing, I gave one last tug and something snapped. Shiny bits of metal fell down my hoodie as I realized in horror what had happened.

  The boobrie had latched onto my charm necklace, which now lay shattered at my feet. I’d just lost not only the shield that had protected me from the vaettur’s attacks, but all my extra pith stores for casting elemental magic.

  And that sharp beak came at me one more time.

  The other shepherds of Nasci didn’t necessarily like me much. I was a lowly eyas who started training at a much older age than considered normal. They regarded me as too disrespectful, someone who forged her own path rather than following the old ways. A few even actively tried to kick me out of their society.

  And yet they can’t refute that I, Ina, was the only shepherd who can whip out a lightning bolt.

  Hand already in my kangaroo pouch, I drew a zigzag over my last AA battery. I opened my other palm right in front of the boobrie’s itty-bitty eye and yelled, “Tag! You’re it!”

  Then I drew a five-pointed star and blasted it with all the electricity I had.

  The boobrie sensed my powerful banishment sigil and knocked my hand away so I didn’t land a direct hit. The lightning bolt did sideswipe it, however, causing the vaettur to smack into a western hemlock. Unfortunately, the force also knocked me backward, my arm crashing hard against a large boulder. I cried out as I crumpled to the forest floor, pain radiating around my elbow. I knew I’d at least sprained it, if not created a hairline fracture. It was also my dominant sigil writing hand, which I used to cast magic. I hoped that I’d damaged the boobrie enough that it wouldn’t come after me again.

  But, of course, no such luck. The boobrie recovered from the slight stun, shaking its head as it stood on its two long sticks for legs. When it saw me, it gave a mighty howl that sounded more like a bull than a bird, then vanished from sight.

  Well, that’s not good. I scrambled to my feet. It wasn’t actually invisible but reflecting the hues of the forest around it like a chameleon. Still, I could no longer spot it, not an ideal situation against an enemy trying to kill you.

  At the last second, fate decided to throw me a bone. I noticed a slight flurry of movement ten feet above me, a nebulous cloud that didn’t quite match the branches behind it. I lurched out of the way as something plunged down where I had just been. The tire-sized boulder that had injured my arm cracked like an egg, dust flying in the air.

  I made another break for it. Without any more lightning juice and a gimpy writing hand, I stood about as much chance of defeating the boobrie as a worm on a fishing hook. I took cover back in the tree line, racing downslope toward a wisp channel, the teleportation portal we’d used to travel here. If I could jump through the twinkling lights before the boobrie, I might escape its wrath.

  Given how far I had to go and the speed of the concealed boobrie, though, I didn’t like my odds. I needed more time. With my uninjured hand, I drew a wobbly infinity symbol—two Ss woven together—to create swirling winds around me. Within seconds, the boobrie hit my makeshift barrier and shrieked as it bounced off to one side.

  Heh. One point for me.

  But wind wouldn’t keep the vaettur completely away from me. Its next strike would take my air defense into account. Not trusting to write a more complex air sigil as a leftie, I increased the wind’s velocity. I absorbed extra air through my exposed skin as I rushed down the hillside, letting it dominate my pithways. Water, fire, and earth faded as my body lightened like a feather. A bounce formed in my steps, indicating I’d reached max capacity.

  Entering an open meadow, I released all that air pith into spirals around me. The boobrie had cloaked itself with dark bark-like stripes for colors, making it easy to identify against the cloudy sky. It fumbled against my winds, but to my horror, it kept coming for me anyway, returning to its typical dull hues as it dove for me.

  We became locked in a deadly struggle, my good hand forcing all the air pith I could muster out into my wind shield while the boobrie flapped furiously toward me. The vaettur made slow, inch-by-inch progress on me, no matter how much air pith I expelled. Soon, I’d drained almost everything I had. We were essentially playing a waiting game. The boobrie only needed a minute or two before I’d crumple, defenseless with no internal pith stores. But despite my likely fate, I held up my defenses. I wouldn’t make it easy for this monstrosity to snap my spine.

  “I hope you choke on my corpse!” I yelled.

  Gritting my teeth, I wrenched my right
palm to face the boobrie, now only feet away, and forced pith out the injured hand. The pain caused my arm to seize up tighter than a bank vault, but it at least pushed the bird back, my first victory since the stand-off began.

  I expected to buy myself a little time but was surprised when the boobrie could no longer make any headway toward me at all. It grunted and strained, almost stuck mid-flight. I cradled my right hand back to my chest, no longer physically able to use it. And yet, the wind barrier increased in speed.

  “What the…?” I whispered.

  “Be at peace, Ina.” A garbled voice that sounded like someone speaking through a rotating fan reached my ears. “Nasci’s winds will guide us to victory.”

  Euchloe, the albino shepherd, landed next to me as if she had flown there. Her hands arched out toward the boobrie, white hair and robes flapping in the swirling winds around us. Her tornado-level attack quickly overpowered mine.

  The cavalry had arrived.

  And in no short order too. I collapsed, weak with exertion, as Euchloe took over maintaining the wind barrier. The boobrie disappeared under its camouflage, screaming in fury as it tried to gain ground. But it couldn’t get past Euchloe’s sigils.

  I scanned for my augur. “Where’s Guntram?”

  He appeared behind the boobrie as if summoned by name. I couldn’t hear him over the whistling winds, but I saw the five-pointed star he drew. The boobrie changed back to its dismal plumage long enough to show everyone the whites of its terrified eyes.

  Bye, bye, boobrie.

  Guntram’s mouth opened in a battle cry I couldn’t hear, his banishment sigil hitting the bird square in chest. A plume of furry feathers exploded in a cloud, then it vanished from our world.

  CHAPTER 2

  GENERALLY, WE CELEBRATE after a vaettur banishment, but this was different. I gasped as I realized how close I’d come to death. I wouldn’t have decayed like a normal being, my body dissolving into some form of Nasci. I’d watched a dryant’s remains morph into a gorgeous array of flora once. Breathtaking though it was, I didn’t feel up to becoming fertilizer anytime soon. I dragged myself up to my feet.

  I wasn’t the only one who looked like I’d lost a barroom brawl. Euchloe’s temple had sustained a nasty purple bruise, a stark blotch upon her pale face. Guntram panted through his disheveled beard. He appeared more apprehensive than usual, but still, I didn’t expect him to pull me into a fierce hug, one of a handful he’d ever given me.

  “Are you well?”

  “Yeah,” I managed around his cape pressed against my face.

  He pulled back to examine me from head to toe. “You’re shaking.”

  “It happens when you run out of pith.” And it’s true. I’d expended every last ounce of what I had against the boobrie. The emptiness left me jittery like a diabetic with low blood sugar. I opened my palms to reabsorb air pith into my system.

  Guntram lowered me to the ground so my bare legs could make direct contact with the dirt, which stabilized the quivers. I expected Guntram to berate me for wearing boots, but instead he gave me a rundown on what had happened. Euchloe had been dazed by the slap down the cliffside, and he had needed to expend twice as much air pith to get them back to safety. By the time they had returned to where they’d last seen me, the boobrie had chased me halfway down the mountain.

  “I thought we’d find you mangled to death,” he said in conclusion.

  Euchloe’s torso swayed in rhythm with the natural breeze. She clasped her hands in front of her in prayer. “Let us praise the divine Nasci for bestowing her glory upon us. Her sacred guidance has once again saved us all.”

  Ugh. I’d say the blow to Euchloe’s head had made her batty except she always acted like this. If she hadn’t become a shepherd, I am 100% sure she’d be selling aura crystals somewhere along the coastal highway right now.

  “I’m pretty sure we had something to do with it too,” I muttered.

  Euchloe’s nose twitched. “You released your galvanized power, did you not?”

  So much word salad from this one. “If you mean I blasted the boobrie with lightning, yes.”

  “But that did not injure our impure adversary?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I didn’t get in a direct hit. The blast just grazed its side.”

  She sniffed in disdain. “Then I suppose Nasci did not will you to destroy the minion of Letum.”

  I didn’t appreciate the superiority of her tone. I pointed at her black eye. “I suppose Nasci also willed you to examine dirt up close and personal too.”

  Euchloe huffed, unable to come up with a solid rebuttal. Good. I’d grown tired of all the flack I put up with from the other shepherds who couldn’t wield lightning. Their responses ranged from skeptical to downright hostile, depending on where they fell along the “lightning isn’t a true element of Nasci” scale.

  Euchloe flipped her long, white hair over one shoulder. “I suppose the goddess works in mysterious ways.”

  I would have replied something scathing if a raven’s caw hadn’t interrupted. Fechin, Guntram’s favorite kidama raven, swooped out of the sky, landing on my augur’s shoulders with a frantic flapping of feathers. Guntram leaned toward Fechin so that their foreheads almost touched each other. Imprinted together, they communicated telepathically.

  Guntram pulled back suddenly, a deep frown on his face. “Are you sure that’s what the Oracle wishes?”

  Fechin screeched enthusiastically in response.

  Guntram stiffened in irritation, but he maintained a pleasant tone as he turned to Euchloe. “The Oracle summons you to Mt. Hood.”

  Euchloe flinched. “Nasci should call you, Guntram, for you are more blessed through your divine air.”

  Guntram shook his head. “Fechin’s sure. The Oracle requested you.”

  I tapped my toe, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Something had been going down on Mt. Hood for some time now, but as a lowly eyas, no one would give me any details. From what little I’d pieced together, several shepherds of decent ability had been called to protect some sacred resource. But why so many shepherds had been called, and how long it would go on for, remained on a strict “above my paygrade” level.

  Still, if the Mt. Hood situation was as important as everyone seemed to think, it made no sense for Euchloe to go. If the Oracle, the most powerful shepherd in all of the Talol Wilds, summoned her best fighters, Guntram should have been at the top of the list. Guntram had air-based skills that (literally) blew everyone else away. I mean, Euchloe had some decent air talent in her own right, but she was an average shepherd at best. As an augur, Guntram was only a step below the Oracle herself. He could blast Euchloe into next Tuesday anytime he wanted.

  But logic took second fiddle to the chain of command. Shepherds worship at the altar of tradition, and the Oracle handing out orders did not lend itself to much, if any, scrutiny.

  Yet, Euchloe hesitated. “Perhaps I should aid you with the aftermath first.” She threw me an awkward glance. “Surely Nasci would prefer us shepherds to work together, especially after such an atypical encounter with Letum.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Guntram insisted, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Go.”

  Recognizing when to quit, Euchloe gave a deep bow. “Upon the goddess,” she said demurely. Then, running as if on clouds, she half-jogged, half-floated down the hill toward the nearest wisp channel.

  I waited until she was well out of earshot before telling Guntram, “I hate to admit she’s right, but you should be on Mt. Hood. Little Miss Head-in-the-Clouds down there almost got wiped out by a boobrie.”

  “As did you, Ina,” Guntram said. “The vaettur took us all by surprise.”

  “I guess so,” I grumbled. “Any idea why it decided to attack three of us out of nowhere?”

  “Just praise Nasci for another victory.” A deep frown crossed Guntram’s face again, the one he reserved for things that bothered him, but then he shook it off. Facing me straight on, he added, “I’ll take care
of the breach myself. You may return to the homestead before me.”

  I experienced a brief sense of relief. Sealing breaches, the portals that vaetturs used to enter our world, wasn’t my idea of a good time. Although it had to be done, I was more than happy to let Guntram handle it alone. The sun waned in the west, heading toward the end of a typical overcast June evening. Leaving now would give me enough time for a good long soak in the hot spring before turning in for the day.

  But then suspicion took hold. Guntram had led three shepherds to take down one vaettur, a maneuver reserved for only the strongest enemies. The boobrie had acted out of character, attacking us instead of making us find it. The vaettur had also hung around just miles outside of a human town when it could have picked anywhere in the secluded Siuslaw National Forest to hunt. Now Guntram said he’d handle the breach alone. He’d only ever excluded me once before.

  I folded my arms. “It’s one of those weirdo breaches again, isn’t it?”

  When Guntram refused to reply, I had my answer. For the last few weeks, Guntram had tried to keep me in the dark about mysterious vaettur behavior that plagued the Talol Wilds, but I had a source that filled me in on everything. Vaetturs were sneaking onto earth via unusual breaches made possible by people trashing natural environments. These new vaetturs didn’t act like the normal ones we fought. Driven mad by traveling through unnatural portals, these vaetturs tended toward population centers, threatening people.

  I wanted more than anything to rub in Guntram’s face that I knew all this, but I’d been sworn to silence by my source. That didn’t mean I had to act like everything was hunky-dory, though.

  “I know you’re keeping secrets, and I don’t like it.”

  I expected Guntram to chastise me, but instead, he gave a deep sigh. “Trust me when I say I would give anything for this not to be happening. But barring that, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”