Awen Storm

by O J Barré

  Way Station

  The meters crept by slowly and painfully for Nergal. If his band of exiles didn’t reach the abandoned station soon, they would be forced to stop for him to rest again. And despite pretending otherwise, he needed the medicine to dull the pain. Plus, they all needed sustenance and water. They’d had neither since their hasty retreat from his hideout, and they had meandered for hours through an endless maze of tunnels.

  Nergal kept his eyes on the provocative sway of the doctora’s behind. It was the only way he could ignore the agony that increased with every step. That, and remembering her healing touch.

  When she peered intently at him over one shoulder, Nergal got the fleeting sense that she’d read his mind. Only Dracos were not gifted with that kind of sight.

  **

  Brian and Ethnui gaped at the chute car. It was rustier and more ancient than the one that had left them stranded. She hopped inside it to fiddle with the controls, then looked up, frustrated. “This bucket is a no-go. I’m afraid we’re stuck with the horse that brung us.” Ethnui leapt from the car and hurried to a control panel on the far wall.

  “How do you know that saying? Are there horses down here?” Brian asked, surprised.

  The Fomorian chuckled. “Of course, Human. Pretty much everything up there has a counterpart down here. Aha!”

  “Aha? Does that mean good news?”

  Ethnui grinned in the meager light from the station. “Indeed, it does. My handheld synced with the chute’s main controller.”

  Her fingers flew over the keys. A series of blue bulbs blinked on the wall console, then glowed steadily. The tracks hummed and clicked, then whirred and settled into silence again. They eyed one another.

  “Wonder what that means? Is it fixed? Or—” A guttural bark sent Brian’s heart to his throat. Yanking the pistol from his pocket, he crouched beside Ethnui, but no Dracos were in sight.

  He pointed at the panel. “I think it came through that speaker.”

  Ethnui nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  She activated the map on the wall panel and zoomed out to their surroundings. Four Dracos approached through a narrow corridor that led to the station. One appeared injured and required aid. They all looked harried, as if on the run, rather than the other way around.

  Brian lowered his voice to a whisper. “Those are not the same Dracos we saw earlier. I don’t remember any females.”

  Ethnui grabbed his hand and tugged. “Who cares, come on!”

  But Brian had an idea. “Wait! A diversion!”

  Closing his eyes, he consulted with Ham, then opened them to speak the spell. With a cracking boom, the ceiling collapsed, sealing the entrance.

  Ethnui applauded. “Well done, Human. Well done. Now, let’s get out of here before that vent blows us to smithereens.”

  **

  The stench of metal and rancid oil tickled Nergal’s senses. They must be nearing the chute station. Looking ahead, he could see a brightening in the gloom. His forked tongue flicked, tasting the air. There was something else too. Something…pungent. Odiferous.

  He gagged, remembering the stench in Agartha. Though they were deep within the mountain, it was warm here. Too warm. Plus, they had reached a dead-end. The ground was strewn with boulders, evidence of a cave-in.

  “Hold up,” he barked.

  **

  Ethnui and Brian ran for the chute car, leaping over the vent between blasts. Faint foreign voices drifted to them. The cave-in wouldn’t hold them for long. Crossing her fingers for good luck, Ethnui silenced the clanging alarms.

  **

  The doctora halted and pointed to the pile of stones. “This is the entrance. Or, it was when I was here two days ago.”

  “We’ve got bigger problems,” Nergal grunted. “Smell that?”

  “Magma,” Ishkur said, looking pale and rather sickly.

  Inanna sucked in a sharp breath. “Which is it, Nergal? Turn around, or hop a car? Whatever you choose, we’ve got to do it quickly.”

  Iskur prodded the boulders, searching for an opening. “The wall has caved in, but I think we can get through.”

  Nergal eyed the tiny gap, not sure if he could manage it in his present state. “That doesn’t look stable.” But he could see no better option. “How ‘bout we move some of the larger boulders? If it doesn’t give way, we can crawl through. Otherwise, we must retreat to higher ground.”

  Together, Inanna and Ishkur rolled several of the large stones out of the way, while the doctora moved smaller ones. When they were done, the opening was passable. Nergal pushed against the arch and it remained in place.

  “You first,” he grunted to Inanna.

  On hands and knees, she wiggled through the opening.

  One by one, he and the others followed and found themselves in the run-down lobby of the chute station. Nergal collapsed to the ground panting, and waited for the pain to subside. It was even hotter here. And the doctora was right. The place didn’t look like it had been used in centuries.

  A thought flickered through the back of his mind. Nergal strained to capture it. Something about the heat. Or Shibboleth’s relentless goons, who’d been on their heels all day.

  Taking charge, the diminutive doctora barked, “You two get the car running. I’ll redress Nergal’s wounds.”

  Inanna made a beeline for the chute. Ishkur lagged behind and reached in his belt. He produced a flask, unscrewed the top, and took a long swig. Nergal averted his eyes and crawled away from the opening. He had his own problems at the moment. As long as Ishkur held it together.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain, Nergal leaned against the station wall while the doctora removed his bandages and repacked his wounds. She gave him a sparing mouthful of the pain decoction, then went to help Inanna and Ishkur.

  Closing his weary eyes, Nergal slipped into a restless sleep. One in which a red-clawed Draco ripped his body from head to heel.

  Unexpected Storm

  “You want me to do what?”

  “Move that coconut from there to here,” Talav repeated, “without touching it.”

  Emily stared at the dragon. The coconut lay beneath one of the palm trees, half-buried in the sand. They had been working on spells all morning, but none of them included moving objects.

  “Okay, this is a first. Can you show me how?”

  The earth dragon sighed and rolled her great, ochre eyes. The coconut jiggled and rose from the sand about a foot, then moved through the air to settle on the beach at Emily’s bare feet.

  Sweeping her arm in a flourish, Emily giggled and bowed. “See? Done!”

  Talav groaned—that long-suffering sigh with which Emily was well acquainted. Every one of her druid teachers had made the same sound. Emily was a good student, but she could also be tiresome, something she hadn’t previously known about herself.

  “No, silly girl. Move it yourself. Getting me to do it for you doesn’t count.”

  “But isn’t that a sign of a great leader? Getting others to do things? Isn’t that delegating?” Emily knew she was being literal, but still.

  “Yes, but a great leader must be trained in that which she commands others to do. The time will come, Emily Bridget, when there will be no one to help. When you, and you alone, must stand and fight. You need to be prepared because that time is nigh. Now, move that coconut back to where it fell from the tree.”

  Emily threw up her hands. “I can’t, oh great one. Tell me how, and I will do my best.”

  There was that huff of exasperation again. Draig Talav, whose face was sprouting horns similar to Ooschu’s, shifted and stared at the roiling sea. Thunder rumbled and storm clouds gathered on the southern horizon. A seagull screeched and landed in the waves, inciting laughter-like cries from its brethren.

  Lifting the hem of the lavender tank-top she’d gleaned from the center’s stores, Emily wiped sweat from her face and tightened the jute belt holding up the too-large, cast-off shorts. Without the coastal breeze, the heat w
as even more oppressive than usual.

  Talav swung her long neck back toward Emily. “Remember your meditation and trance-work? Go there. Use that state. Connect with the elements, synchronize your biorhythms, and direct your focus to the object you wish to move. Imagine seeing it in the spot you want it to be. It’s that simple.”

  Emily snorted. “For you, maybe.”

  Talav stamped her front paws, and the ground quivered. “Deary, your snark has reached epic proportions. Maybe you aren’t cut out for this.”

  Emily squirmed. “Or maybe I just need a break. We’ve been at it for hours.” Her clothes clung to her frame uncomfortably, and the thick, wayward hair she had confined in a stubby ponytail escaped to tangle in sweaty strings around her neck. “I need a swim. I’m so hot my head feels like it might explode.”

  Of course, some of the pain was from the head injury. It had certainly slowed Emily down. She was only able to walk short distances, and couldn’t yet jog. She had defied Khenko’s orders and tried the other day, and ended up in bed wishing she hadn’t.

  Thunder rumbled, louder and closer. She glanced at the billowing clouds hugging the horizon. Talav’s eyes followed Emily’s gaze.

  “If you must. But hurry. That storm will be here soon.”

  The breeze stirred, carrying the distinctive scent of rain—or petrichor as she had learned during her years as a disaster specialist. It was named after the oil the earth releases before it rains. That it was part of Earth’s delicate dance with itself made the aroma all the more enjoyable.

  Emily waded into waves that morphed from deep green to metallic blue as the sky darkened. She laid back to dunk her head between breakers, and let the surf cool and support her. Charged particles filled the air, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Emily jerked upright as it rolled across the water.

  The gulls lifted from the ocean, screeching. Their eerie cries blended with the crashing of the waves and reverberating thunder as she hurriedly sloshed to shore. The earth dragon was nowhere in sight.

  Wringing water from her teeshirt and ponytail, Emily wondered if she would get used to the creatures appearing and disappearing without warning. At another clap of thunder, she squealed and dashed to the back porch with her beach towel.

  She mounted the weathered steps as the first fat drops splatted on the wood. One landed on Emily’s crown and trickled down her scalp as she ducked beneath the metal roof. Moments later, the bottom fell out and a curtain of rain descended upon the tropical paradise.

  Grinning, Emily settled in a creaky cane chair, one of several rockers facing the sea. The storm’s cooling effect was instantaneous. Wind-wafted rain drenched the porch apron, but its substantial width provided a haven for Emily. She draped the towel across her body and rocked with glee.

  The door banged open and a soaked Khenko emerged from the center.

  “What happened?” Emily laughed. “Get caught in the rain?”

  The big man scowled, then shrieked like a banshee when a bolt of lightning struck the sand. Electricity sizzled and ozone mixed with the acrid scent of silica melting. Thunder cracked and shook the island sanctuary. Emily raced for the door, hair standing on end.

  Khenko slipped inside and waited for her, then slammed the screen door and bolted the heavy, wooden one. Together they stood with their noses against the tiny window as the storm raged, tearing fronds and bark from the thrashing palms and hurling it in circles in the air.

  An ancient, but sturdy, director’s chair tumbled across the beach and slammed against a tree. The umbrella that had been firmly anchored in the sand ripped loose and caromed end-over-end into the cabana. Another stalk of lightning, this one shaped like an upside-down tree, flashed across the sky, followed by a deafening boom.

  Something crashed in the back. Khenko tore from the kitchen with Emily close behind. In his office, the metal blinds twisted in the wind and slapped against the shattered pane. A mini-tornado upended furniture and swirled papers around the room. Khenko dove to rescue his open laptop, which lay upside down on the wet floor. Together they secured the storm shutters, though too late to save the contents of the room.

  Another clatter sounded down the hall. Emily ran to Khenko’s bedroom. The blinds fluttered and twisted here, too. Rain lashed through the open window, drenching the floor. Then Khenko was beside her, yanking the window shut and unclamping one of the storm shutters. She unclamped the other, and he latched them shut. Slumping against them, he surveyed the room with wild eyes. The storm raged overhead.

  “Should we do the rest?” Emily shouted over the melee, shaking from head to toe. Khenko nodded. Together they secured the hurricane shutters in every room.

  When finished, they sank into ladder-back chairs at the kitchen table and stared at each other while the storm consumed the island.

  “Did you know this was coming?” She wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

  Drops of water from his shoulder-length hair landed on her nose when Khenko shook his head. “Nothing in the forecast. A seventy-percent chance for our usual afternoon thundershowers. No mention of a squall of this magnitude.”

  Emily shivered in her wet clothes. Had Shalane recovered her memory and figured out where Emily was? Was this one of her Elementals? Or had Emily somehow summoned the tempest?

  Suspicion played in Khenko’s eyes. “Is there something I should know?”

  “I was playing around with storm spells earlier. But I seriously doubt I did this.”

  Khenko glared. “You better not have. My computer is toast.”

  Emily traced the grain of the table with a finger and wondered how much she should tell the medicine man. Since he’d brought her back to life, she should probably come clean.

  For the next twenty minutes, the storm raged outside the Atlantean Center and Emily told Khenko everything she knew about Shalane Carpenter and her Elementals. When she was done, he put his forehead to the table and banged it softly against the dark wood. When he finally lifted his head, Khenko wagged it slowly back and forth with a slightly-crazed light in his eyes.

  The rain lessened, and the wind calmed from wild to unruly. Khenko stilled and stared blankly into space. When the thunder rolled finally off to the north, he roused to blink owlishly at Emily. “Anything else you haven’t told me?”

  She let go the breath she’d been holding. “Probably. But that’s all I know about Shalane Carpenter and her Elementals.”

  The medicine man pushed away from the table, chair scraping on the wooden floor. Anger, despair, and a smidgeon of grief radiated from him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see if there’s anything left of my laptop.” He trudged out of the room.

  Guilt seized Emily, though she was pretty sure she’d done nothing wrong. The tears she’d held at bay too long escaped to slide down her cheeks. Spying a salt shaker, she dashed away the tears, determined to do something right.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply, synching with the four elements. When she was ready, she opened her eyes to stare at the salt shaker, imagining it on the table in front of her. Nothing happened.

  Reflecting on her weeks with the druids, she focused on how it had felt to calm the volcano at Zoo Atlanta, end an untimely blizzard, and save Jocko’s from the tornadoes. Allowing that energy to grow inside her, Emily stared at the salt shaker, then closed her eyes. When she opened them again, it sat accusingly on the stove.

  Grinding her teeth, she growled in frustration. Then remembered the Awen. Sighing, she gave in and asked for help. “Okay, Awen. Show me your stuff.”

  Emily emptied her mind of everything, leaving nothing behind but quiet. Then she repeated the earlier exercise. This time she knew that when she opened her eyes, the salt shaker would be there. It was.

  Wrapping her fingers around the cool metal canister, Emily clutched it to her chest and laughed hysterically.

  The Heat is On

  Inanna flipped the breaker. Nothing happened. The empty sh
ell of a chute car remained silent and still. It might be operational, as the doctora insisted. But if so, it wasn’t getting any juice. She followed the wires to a cable, then followed that.

  Where it exited the bedrock, the wires had frayed and melted. Inanna repaired them quickly and wiped her brow. The air was fouler, and it was getting hotter by the minute. This far underground, it should be cool. Cold, even. Yet it was hot enough to make her want to curl up and take a nap. She shook her head to clear it.

  “Anyone else having hot flashes?”

  “Not hot flashes,” the doctora corrected. “But it is hot. Where do you think that magma is pooling?”

  Inanna shrugged. “No idea. But if we’re to get out of here alive, we’d better hurry. Has anyone seen a maintenance closet?”

  “Over there.” Ishkur hurried to the opposite wall where the indicative symbol was etched on the stone. Prying open the heavy door, he held it for Inanna.

  She felt in the dark for a screen, then entered a series of numbers remembered from her days as a maintenance tech, a code that would not be traced back to Inanna should anyone be looking.

  There was a hiss, like a vacuum-seal breaking, and the screen popped away from the wall. Digging a light from her pack, Inanna inspected the inner workings of the power supply. She found what she needed, and switched the port connections. The station lights flared to life. The Dracos cheered, including Nergal, who had revived and taken a post as lookout.

  **

  Ethnui entered the instruction to engage the car’s drive. She held her breath as it lurched once, then chugged up the tracks. It picked up speed quickly, and by the time they reached the vent, they were moving fast enough to avoid annihilation. The stench filled the car, and the station approached. Brian tugged her down beside him on the floor.

  **

  Away down the tracks, a clanging commenced. The rails vibrated, softly at first, then increasing in magnitude.

  “Get in the car,” Inanna yelled and bounded to it.