Silverstone

by C E Johnson

  “I don’t think I would have believed any of this if I hadn’t seen these monsters,” Palin said. He stood and walked over to study the beast once again. He reached out a hand and pushed on the were-wolf with an extended finger. “But I’m still having trouble losing the reality that I want to cling to.” The wind began to change, fanning the fires in their direction.

  Poulton nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s tough to believe in something unless it agrees with our own common sense.” He held his still-strung bow in one hand with a firm grip while twirling an arrow in his other hand. “At least we can fight these things.”

  Oliver rubbed his temples and furrowed brow. “Even with all of this, I’m having difficulty accepting the concept of magic.” He sighed and gestured toward the monsters near to them as his frown deepened. “My own common sense says these things could just be a type of animal I haven’t seen before.”

  “Anna, can you shape-change for them?” Emily asked her friend gently. Anna gave a brave nod. Dropping a blanket that had been around her shoulders, she stood. The highlights of gold in her hair sparkled in the fire. She suddenly looked so much more like an angel than a magician. Murmuring her incantation, she instantly formed into a small dragon and her scales now glistened in the light instead of her hair. Baring her teeth and stretching her leathery wings, she took to the air for a moment before landing and changing back. Tired, she picked back up her blanket and sat back down next to Isabelle.

  Mr. Henry’s eyes widened, and a flush crept up his neck as red as his hair, easily visible in the firelight. He made the sign of a cross on his chest and began to speak a biblical verse in a rush, “There is a generation whose teeth are as swords … to devour the poor from off the earth.”

  He’s confused about what is right and what is wrong, Xena whispered.

  I can understand his confusion, Emily sighed. I often wonder the same thing. I still wonder if I am a dark one.

  You are light, and you are good, Xena retorted. You have compassion and love in your heart, and you believe in peace. Everyone will be judged in the afterlight, but you are here to save others. Emily felt a flush on her own cheeks at the kind words from her bondsmate. Xena sniffed the air, sending Emily the sour rancid scent of the dead wolves, but nothing else. There was still time to talk. Teach them about half-deads, Xena advised.

  Emily went to the were-creature and taught them how they were made. She described how the enemy was raising the dead to battle against all humanity.

  Mr. Henry crossed himself again and quoted more biblical verses in a low voice, “The thief comes to kill and destroy.” Staring at the were-creature, he continued, “He prowls like a wolf wanting to devour us.” He glanced at the fires around them. “We must resist the evil while the world undergoes its suffering.” He stood and checked the bullets in his gun. “Emily, I’ll stand by your side against the evil one’s schemes.”

  Oliver took a deep breath. “I’d like to ride with you also. I’m scared of your magic, but I want to see more of these events. I know the difference between good and evil, and I want to be on your side.” Poulton, Palin, and Jeff appeared wary, but they also nodded, speaking up about their convictions.

  “We should ride some distance from Luke’s home,” Mr. Henry advised. “Creatures like this will be able to track us for quite some time.” He pushed the nearest were-creature once again with his boot.

  Staring at the ground, Emily went to Apache and slowly got into the saddle. Following her lead, the small band grimly started to ride away from the death and fiery destruction. Emily was still filled with doubts and she felt another soul-wrenching sob about to burst from her chest.

  Just then, Luke appeared on her right side and Elizabeth on her left. Luke began to organize the party. He sent Poulton and Oliver out to act as scouts. “You shouldn’t bear this tragic event on your shoulders,” Luke began in a hushed voice. Emily swallowed her pain and choked on her sob before it could emerge. She looked up from the trail to peer into Luke’s warm brown eyes that were finally brimming with tears like the rest of them. “You’ve saved thousands of people on Acacia and you’re going to save everyone on Earth,” he said tenderly. Emily felt warmed to her core that his pain was greatest when he saw her in need of his love.

  “You’re our leader, so you probably going to feel responsible for everything no matter what we say,” Elizabeth added. “But don’t only focus on the bad. You’ve done more good than anyone in the history of two worlds … and you’re only eighteen.”

  “She’s right,” Isabelle said from behind Emily where she was listening to the conversation. “We’ve all suffered a catastrophic loss, but we’re still together. We need to attempt to right the wrongs that evil ones are causing.” She blew her nose in a tissue.

  “Let’s use this tragedy to firm our conviction,” Anna said thoughtfully, her voice edged with pain. “We need to save our planet for ourselves and for our parents.”

  Emily felt like crying again. Your friends have seen your pain and they want to help you, Xena whispered. Now help them.

  Emily sat taller in her saddle. She thanked each of her friends before painting a broken smile on her face for them. Trying to focus on their surroundings, she attempted to think about something else. They headed eastward outside the city of Austin for several miles toward Bastrop. They hadn’t slept for quite some time, but Emily wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the half-deads as possible. She glanced upward to the sky. The sun had reached its zenith, and the warmth suddenly felt good on her face. The chill in her heart was thawing.

  All at once, Oliver and Poulton came riding back to her at a gallop. Oliver pointed ahead of them. “There’s something ahead that you have to see.” Emily kneed Apache into a trot. They were riding along a small rise. Protected by a dense row of trees, their group was camouflaged. Emily dismounted in a hurry and went to see what her scouts had found.

  “There.” Poulton directed her attention down a long, sloping hill that led to a wide valley. There was a large clearing with scores of tents in an orderly arrangement.

  “Who are they?” Luke asked quietly. Drilling in an orderly fashion, a large platoon marched back and forth between the tents. Rune was sitting on his haunches next to Luke. The wolf stared at the warriors below them. Baring his fangs, he let out a low growl,

  “It’s an army,” Anna whispered in a hushed tone, “but whose side are they on?”

  “I’m not sure,” Emily answered. She turned from the soldiers drilling by the tents to other groups of warriors below them who were involved with weapon training. She could see low-level auras scattered among the warriors, suggesting budding strength and dedication. Some of the men and women were clad in leather armor wearing helms while other groups had military helmets and Kevlar outer-garments. Some held long pikes and spears, glinting deadly in the sunlight, while others had machine guns.

  “They’re practicing with swords,” Luke blurted. He pointed excitedly at warriors holding short and long swords. “They’re not very good,” he teased while taking a step towards them. Hack, slash, the swords rang together when they touched each other in a deadly dance, singing out a song of steel in a resonant voice to call more parishioners to their congregation of war and death.

  “Wait. Don’t go to them yet,” Emily warned. Still other individuals were involved with target practice. Some held pistols and rifles, while others were training with the bow.

  The archers’ arrows had black fletchings and their squad leader called out, “Nock, pull, loose,” time and again. Behind everyone in a field of short grass, was a wedge of cavalry with crimson cloaks streaming behind their backs as they rode practicing formations.

  “I don’t like the feeling I’m getting as I watch them,” Elizabeth whispered, holding up a hand to also stop Luke. There was a frown on her delicate face. “Something’s wrong here.”

  Look just beyond those horses, Xena growled.

  Emily peered past the whirling and wheelin
g of the cavalry about their practice fields. Two bold auras stood out to her above all the others. They were a crimson red. The auras were nearly identical, both suggesting malice, anger, and devilry. “Oh no,” she groaned aloud.

  “Who is it?” Luke asked. “Do you recognize their auras?”

  Emily rubbed her temples. She knew the two aura signatures well. She had seen them before. “I know the auras of their commanding officers,” Emily told her squad. “It’s Doeg and Delores Quadmire.” Surveying their forming legion, the two red magicians stood side-by-side on a raised platform. They began demonstrating fighting maneuvers in tandem. The army gathered around them mimicking their motions and grunting in synchrony as they struck at the air.

  “Look, half-deads,” Luke said quietly. He pointed down toward the army. In clusters throughout their ranks stood unmistakable squads of half-deads. There were primarily trolls and goblins standing foul and intimidating as they watched the proceedings with arms folded on their chests.

  “Evil ones,” Mr. Henry spat on the ground.

  “I can’t believe it,” Emily murmured in shock. “Earthlings are working with those horrible creatures.”

  “Doeg and Delores offer safety with their numbers and organization,” Anna said softly. While studying the warriors below with eyes that missed nothing, she continued, “People will do almost anything to feel protected during times of trouble.”

  I fear that at some point we’re going to have to fight them, Xena whispered.

  I know, Emily whispered back, but not today. She turned her back on the battalion, jumped into her saddle, and their squad rode past the army heading to the east.

  CHAPTER 9

  England

  The sun was lazily drifting downward creating long shadows from The Shard, the tallest building in London, England, and the current residence of Maaca and her small retinue. Maaca walked in the gloom created by the tower. She had just exited the building and she was flanked on each side by Edvard and Graciela as they walked around several of the concrete and steel supporting columns. Maaca’s three new magician followers talked quietly among themselves as they trailed respectfully behind the vampires. There was a blue, a green, and a gold magic-user.

  “This way,” Edvard said, nodding to direct their path. Her Black-blades were overly protective, each keeping one hand on the hilt of their swords as they strode purposefully next to Maaca, their queen. The waxing day was still crisp and clear as Maaca walked around the foundation of the glass tower until they were out of the dark shadows. They were heading toward the River Thames.

  “The reflections are bright over there,” Graciela observed, pointing back over her shoulder to the second floor of The Shard where the rays of light from the descending sun shimmered brilliantly off a myriad of broken panel windows. Maaca squinted against the glare as she glanced to where Graciela was directing her attention. Looking upward at the impressive height of the superstructure, Maaca stopped for a moment.

  “I hate our building,” Edvard grunted when he noticed the direction of Maaca’s gaze. “I’m very glad that we’ll be leaving this city soon.”

  “We aren’t out of here yet,” Graciela cautioned him softly.

  Edvard’s brow was furrowed as he peered up and down at the shining tower that was sparkling like a diamond. “There’s no way to defend a building with walls of such a weak material as glass,” he grunted.

  “You’re doing a fine job, Edvard,” Maaca said, hoping to encourage her warrior.

  “After all, since he currently lives in a glass house, he shouldn’t be throwing any stones,” Graciela teased. They all enjoyed laughing at earthly sayings and superstitions. Graciela moved toward Edvard acting like she was going to kiss him, but she didn’t try very hard, and Edvard stepped away while making a scoffing sound.

  “You should let her kiss you and make love not war,” Maaca taunted, enjoying the mirth of the moment with a quick smile. She looked from Graciela to Edvard. “We’ll be out of here soon,” she promised her Black-blades with what she hoped sounded like a firm resolve. She started forward again, but her smile faded, and her mouth tightened as she walked around piles of trash.

  “I’m working to guard my queen right now,” Edvard said with steadfast determination. “I don’t have time for games.” His jaw was tense as he snorted dismissively at the idea. He was all about war. His rigid lack of emotion instantly restored a grim mood. Whipping his head around this way and that, he scouted out their current position. Maaca knew he was searching for unseen enemies in the buildings around them. In a gust of wind, a door of an apartment complex flew open. Edvard’s longsword was out in the blink of an eye. He crouched as the door crashed against a wall. All at once, it came off its hinges and fell to the ground.

  “It’s all decaying before my very eyes,” Maaca whispered.

  “I don’t know. It’s not all that bad. We could begin a kingdom here,” Graciela said breathlessly as she twirled in a sudden circle. She was always imaginative. To her, a glass was always half full. “There’s not one strong leader who has come forward since we’ve been here. We could rule this land without a fight.” Whirling in place much more slowly, she peered at the asphalt streets and small buildings around them. “We could teach our magicians how to battle. We could instruct them in the dark arts of black magic, allowing them to bring us scores of half-deads. We could place squads of our warriors in the tallest buildings to act as lookouts.”

  “No, Graciela,” Maaca scolded in a gentle tone. “Our war will be fought across the ocean. We just have to get there.” Glancing back at her gold magician, she inclined her head in his direction. “Our gold dream-linked with Iscar this morning.”

  “I didn’t think that was possible,” Graciela said quietly with a small frown. “Don’t you have to know the person you contact in a dream-link?”

  Maaca gave a satisfied small smile. “You’re correct, but using my weak magic, I pushed my thoughts and impressions of Iscar into his mind.” She nodded again toward the gold magician. “After many attempts, he finally succeeded.” She leaned toward Graciela and whispered in her ear, “Although our gold is still weak, Iscar is strong, and the connection formed.”

  “What did you learn?” Graciela asked excitedly, her expression brightening. “Are there many half-deads where we’re going?”

  “Iscar wants us to come to him at the Luray Caverns in Virginia where an army is amassing,” Maaca answered softly and slowly. “Drogor supposedly plans to come across very soon.”

  “I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see Drogor,” Graciela mused. “For most of my life I’ve heard rumors that he would one day depart Ater.” Graciela became quiet. She stared pointedly at Maaca. “You don’t seem happy, my queen.”

  “I’m just not sure what Drogor has in store for us,” Maaca said with a sad smile.

  “We’ll get there soon and find out,” Edvard promised. Appearing pensive, he stroked his strong jaw. “I’ll have to get some maps depicting that area of Virginia. If we can get to the Norfolk port, the journey to the caverns shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “You always work so hard planning our trips,” Maaca said to Edvard in a tender voice as she brushed the back of one hand along his cheek.

  “You’re changing more rapidly every day,” Edvard said to Maaca quietly. Maaca couldn’t tell if his tone was happy or sad.

  “I also worry about what Drogor has in store for you,” Graciela whispered to Maaca.

  “We must not be faithless,” Maaca replied softly. “We must be believing that Drogor’s plan is best for us.” Her heart felt heavy as she thought about what Drogor might indeed have in store for her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Drogor. As they rounded a corner, the last gleams of sunlight glimmered on the surface of the great River Thames making the water appear more like a plate of steel than liquid.

  Graciela glanced back at the mages who had fallen several steps behind them. Speaking in a hushed voice to Maaca, she asked, “Do you think th
ey’ll be ready to fight when the time comes?”

  “They’ll be ready,” Maaca answered firmly. She spoke just loud enough to ensure the men heard her. The lead magician, the gold, gave her a hesitant smile. He had obviously been following their conversation. She actually wasn’t sure how they would react in a battle, but she wanted their confidence high. For food, water, and protection, she had lured the three into her service. They were earthlings who were changing with the times and their auras were the strongest she had found in London. Although she couldn’t perform spells, she had killed countless magicians, and she was well aware of how an incantation should be performed. The primary spells she taught the men were shielding, dream-linking, and healing incantations, but as these three magicians were advancing in strength and acceptance of their skills, she planned to teach them much more.

  “I don’t like how quiet it is around here,” Edvard spoke in a low voice. He half pulled his longsword back out from its sheath.

  “You don’t like anything,” Maaca quipped in an overly cheerful voice. Edvard was always moody, and she liked to bait him with happiness. Although this time, he was right. The port area was exceedingly quiet. Occasionally, cautious individuals would appear. Darting furtively along the wharfs and docks, they looked like desperate rats. They were stealing whatever items appeared to be of value to their hungry eyes. The local warriors, the Port of London Authority Police, had long since left their posts, and there was no one enforcing any rules.

  “You’re certain this ship can take us across the Atlantic?” Graciela asked Edvard. Almost all the ships they had toured were dead on the water, husks of their former selves with their current lack of power. Gangs had already stripped the majority of the vessels of anything of value. Abandoned ships drifted here and there along the river.

  “She’s seaworthy.” Edvard growled, sounding impatient with Graciela. He stepped closer to take Maaca’s elbow, gently guiding her past a row of dark trees.