Awen Storm

by O J Barré

Laying the phone where she’d found it, she slipped through the door and back into her room. The ever-present uneasy feeling in her gut reared its ugly head.

  **

  Lugh vaulted out of bed and danced in place. “She loves me!”

  Cu yapped and danced with him.

  But Emily had sounded frightened. Lugh stopped dancing and rubbed Cu’s head. Oh goddess, he’d promised to meet her in Beli. With the Elders. His brother Jake had never come home from there.

  Lugh conveyed Emily’s news to the wolfhound and slid a pain pill from the vial on the nightstand. His head throbbed, and he needed help if he was going to Wales in search of dragons. He was about to pop it in his mouth when Cu spoke aloud.

  “Put it away,” the Elder ordered. “That is not the help you need.”

  Lugh stared slack-jawed. He’d never heard Cu talk except as Hamilton Hester. Speechless, he stared at the enormous dog.

  Cu licked his lips and sat back on his haunches. “Young raven, you must pull it together. This quest depends on you. The world depends on you. Get rid of those pills. Throw them away, remove the temptation. It’s time you accept your destiny.”

  Lugh stared into the solemn brown eyes. He knew Cu was right. The pills didn’t help that much anyway—plus, they clouded his thinking and made him sleep. Like Emily and the two animal Elders, Lugh was bound to the Awen Order and its affairs.

  His life, like hers, was no longer his own. Not that it ever had been. Once a druid, always a druid. Which meant relinquishing the importance of one’s life in deference to that of the Order. Since its primary purpose was to protect and defend Earth, Lugh couldn’t well do that medicated.

  Cu was right. Lugh had to pull it together.

  He stared at the pill and returned it to the vial, which he threw in the wire waste can. But the amber bottle lay accusingly at the bottom of the receptacle. He stared at it, then dug it out and buried the bottle in his sock drawer.

  Electricity washed through the room and the hairs stood at attention on Lugh’s arms. He twisted to scan for his deceased parents. “Mom? Dad? Are you here?”

  Cu reared to put his paws on Lugh’s shoulders, and he almost collapsed beneath the dog’s weight. Regaining his balance, he hugged the dog tight.

  “Thank you, big guy. I needed that. I’ll try not to let you down.” Cu licked Lugh’s face and retreated.

  Lugh wiped away dog slobber. “Emily sounded frightened. But I’m not sure I’m up to meeting her in Beli.”

  The wolfhound yipped three times and ended on a long howl.

  “And what exactly does that mean?”

  The dog shook until its jowls flapped, then gazed steadily at Lugh. “Whether you are prepared or not, we must go to our Grand Druid.”

  The scent of lilacs wafted to Lugh then, and the chills ran up his spine. His mother floated through the closed door, and his father appeared out of nowhere at Lugh’s side.

  “Son,” he said with a woeful expression, patting Lugh’s shoulder. “Your mother has news.” Lugh’s throat tightened. Whatever it was, it was not good.

  “Ma?”

  She floated to Lugh, and her normally-twinkling eyes were solemn pools. She brushed his cheek with an otherworldly hand.

  “You may want to sit down for this, son.”

  He plopped on the bed, and Cu sat at his feet whining.

  His mother addressed the animal Elder first. “Hello, Cu. I am glad you’re here. My news is startling.”

  Lugh cleared his throat. He eyed his parents’ ghosts, not sure he was ready to hear what they had come to tell him.

  “Your brother is alive. We’ve located him.”

  Lugh’s jaw fell open. Except for that. “Jake? Where?” He leapt from the bed.

  His parents exchanged a look. “You’re not going to like it. He’s still in Wales.”

  Lugh gulped. “Not Beli, by any chance? That’s where the dragons are taking Emily. She wants us to meet her there.”

  “His exact location is unclear. But, the Alien Intelligence Agency sent Jake to search for dragons. Beli is a good place to begin your search.”

  “Alien what? I thought he was working for a corporation.”

  “The Alien Intelligence Agency. It’s a branch of the U.S. Space Force dedicated to finding and communicating with extraterrestrials. Or in Jake’s case, dragons.”

  Lugh expelled a long breath, not sure whether to be relieved or angry. He had suspected as much. Jake had always been obsessed with dragons. He’d insisted they still lived and were hiding in plain sight.

  “Did you know this all along?”

  She lovingly brushed his cheek again. “No, son. Not until recently.”

  “Why would Jake let me think he was dead?” Lugh buried his face in his hands.

  Never one to coddle, his father tutted. “Maybe something happened and he couldn’t. Secrecy was a crucial condition of his employment. You know now. And there is work to be done.”

  His mother nodded vigorously. “Emily needs help. Your help.” She nodded to Cu. “And that of the animal Elders. But, there is more. You know Rona Wainwright?”

  “Your friend? Mitch’s mother?”

  She scratched her ethereal head and cut her eyes to his father, then back to Lugh. “Rona is also Emily’s mother.”

  Lugh’s stomach lurched. “Rona is…what?” He stood to pace. “So, Mitch is Emily’s brother? For real?” Lugh had suspected as much and had shared his theory with Emily at Zoo Atlanta. The two shared more than one mannerism, and Mitch had Hamilton Hester’s eyes.

  His mother nodded. “Not only her brother, but her twin brother.”

  Lugh sank back to the bed. “I don’t understand. How can that be?”

  “Oh, sweetie, there is much you don’t know about the Awen Order, and the sacrifices we make to preserve its integrity. In generations where there is no daughter, the duty falls upon the father and sons. They must each sow their seed until a worthy heir is born. And technically, Hamilton Hester was an only child.”

  “But, Morgan is his sister.”

  “Morgan was adopted. She doesn’t count. Nor was she Awen material. The burden fell entirely on Hamilton to produce a female heir.”

  This was getting weirder and weirder. “So you’re telling me that Rona and Hamilton…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. “Ma, that is messed up.”

  Her laughter ricocheted around the bedroom.

  Cu twisted his head to gaze at Lugh with compassion. “Like it or not, young raven, that is the druid way. It is not about any individual druid, but about the Order as a whole. To fulfill its duty—to protect Earth at all costs—the line of succession must be preserved, and its ways kept intact. We lose our selves to preserve the whole.”

  “But, why Rona?” Lugh held his head and wished he could take a pain pill. “She was like a second mother to me.”

  “I know, son. And a good friend to me. But Rona wasn’t the only one who agreed to be a conduit. Many druid women volunteered to allow the Awen to come through them. It’s a great honor. And it was Ham’s duty to keep trying until a viable one was birthed. I myself—” Her voice broke. His father wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

  “There, there,” he comforted, patting her back.

  “Anyway,” she said over his shoulder with a sniff, “the Order must be preserved. Put your feelings aside and go to Rona. Tell her everything you know about Emily and her mission. Emily will need all the help she can get, including from her mother.”

  Getting Serious

  The breakfast crowd was beginning to thin when the restaurant manager hailed Patty between tables. Patty wiped her brow on her sleeve and balanced her tray on the other hand.

  “Can I drop this first?” She nodded toward the waiting table.

  “I’ll take it,” her manager said brusquely. “I don’t think they’re willing to wait.” She gestured over her shoulder to two men in suits, one balding and thick around the middle, the other dark with glasses. They both eyed Pat
ty intently.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, as her manager retreated with the loaded tray.

  “Patrika Tolbert?” The bald man stepped forward flashing a badge. “I’m Special Agent Warner, and this is Special Agent Jeter. We’re with the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Could we have a minute?”

  Patty resisted the urge to bolt. It would only delay the inevitable. Besides, she’d been expecting this. Since talking to that reporter, she’d been getting odd calls and visits. This was the first official one, and it was a good thing. Someone had to stop the aliens.

  She tossed her head, enjoying the way her new hairdo cascaded and framed her face. “I guess so.”

  “Come with us.” The second agent’s voice was smooth like peanut butter, and he was kinda cute. She didn’t mind much when he took her by the elbow and guided her out the front door. When he directed her into the back of a waiting sedan, Patty protested.

  “I assure you it’s all aboveboard, miss.” The brown eyes gleamed. “We’re just taking you somewhere private to chat.”

  At least they hadn’t handcuffed her. Not that they should. She hadn’t done anything. They wound along Sunset Boulevard through Pacific Palisades, past Will Rogers State Park, and kept going through Brentwood.

  When they crossed over the 405 Freeway, Patty became alarmed. “Where are you taking me?”

  Agent Jeter glanced over his shoulder reassuringly. “We’re almost there.”

  Within minutes, they were parking at the Federal Building. Ten minutes later, they had passed through security. In the lobby, Agent Warren held out his hand.

  “Cell phone, please.”

  Patty’s heart raced. She slid the phone from her purse and held it, uncertain. “Maybe I should call someone and let them know I’m here.”

  “Sure, go ahead,” the agent said, and they turned their backs

  Not knowing who to call, she tried Shalane. As she’d suspected, it went to voicemail. Patty left a short message and hung up. Should she call Latoya? Probably not. The actress hadn’t been thrilled about Patty’s interview. The crazies were targeting her, too.

  “Why can’t I keep my phone?” She handed it to Agent Warren reluctantly.

  “It’s not allowed in interrogation.”

  “Interrogation? Like in TV crime shows? Why there? What have I done?”

  “As I said before, we need to ask you a few questions.”

  “You could have done that at the restaurant.” Patty backed away, terrified now. “Why did you bring me here? I am not a criminal.” Her insides churned, and she suddenly needed the bathroom. Clenching her butt cheeks, she looked around frantically for a ladies room sign. “I need a toilet. Now.”

  A look passed between the agents. The cute one said, “Follow me,” and walked her a short distance back the way they’d come.

  Face blazing, Patty ducked inside, did her business, and splashed water on her neck. Blotting it with a paper towel, she gazed at her frightened reflection in the mirror. The tears she’d been holding onto so desperately, trickled out.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she told herself. She dabbed away the tears, took a deep breath, then marched into the hall, chin high and defiant.

  The Interrogation Room was brightly lit, like in the shows, and devoid of furniture except for a small table and three chairs. They seated her facing the window and took the opposite side. Opening a file, Agent Warren cleared his throat and looked up.

  “According to this,” he pulled a copy of what Patty assumed to be the L.A. Times article from the file, “you’ve been visited by an alien that claims to live inside the earth, and is part of a race seeking to destroy humans and take over Earth.” The gray eyes fixed on hers, brows raised with a slight smile. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is,” Patty nodded.

  Agent Warren scratched his nose and glanced at his partner, then back at her. “Will you elaborate?”

  “There’s not much else to tell. A few months ago, Shalane was teaching me to meditate and I started having weird thoughts. It made Shalane mad. She didn’t believe me.” Patty sniffed, thinking back.

  “She was having awful headaches during that time and always in a bad mood. We fought all the time, but mostly about the crazy stuff that came out of my mouth—stuff I had no idea about. Then one day, it stopped. The weird thoughts and Shalane’s headaches.”

  Agent Warren wrote something in the file and motioned Patty to continue. Agent Jeter stroked his handsome chin.

  “A few weeks later, I left Atlanta and flew back to California for my brother’s wedding. While I was here, I had a dream about an alien named Nergal.” The agent scribbled furiously. “Only it didn’t seem like a dream. It seemed real. And I was Nergal. I was hurt and looking for a doctor. Then everything started rumbling and shaking like an earthquake, and I woke up. But it happened again later when I was taking a nap.”

  “So you’re having recurring dreams.”

  “No, not really. They keep changing. The second time, I was running away from a strange city like none I’ve ever seen in real life. It was awful. Everything was on fire, and the smell was so disgusting I nearly threw up. Oh God,” she almost sobbed, then tried to continue, “I-I couldn’t…” she hesitated and took a deep breath like Shalane had shown her when she was upset.

  “I could never have imagined anything so horrible. People were burning in the buildings.” She wrung her hands. “I could smell them burning and...” Patty shuddered, remembering. “And this time there was another lizard-creature helping me. Or helping Nergal. It was a lady lizard, much shorter and smaller. A doctor—doctora, he called her. I—he—was in so much pain, but they made it to a cave and hid. Someone, or something, was after them.”

  She stopped talking. Agent Warren’s eyebrows had remained pasted in an arched position the whole time. The asshole didn’t believe a word she’d said.

  In contrast, Agent Jeter gave her an empathetic nod. “And is that all?”

  She turned to face him and ignored his boss. “Almost. The last time it happened, there were two more lizard-men and the doctora. They call themselves Dracos.” Agent Jeter blinked and his left eye twitched. “You know about them, don’t you?” Her heart skipped a beat.

  Jeter glanced down and shook his head. “Please continue.”

  Disappointed, she told him the rest. “Nergal is hurt and might be dying. They are running from a warlord named Shibboleth. And they are all plotting to kill us humans and take over Earth. Please,” she leaned forward imploringly, “you have to do something. If you don’t stop them, we’re all going to die.”

  Agent Warren nearly choked on his laughter. “Sounds like the plot of a Hollywood movie. You should pitch this to the studios, young lady. You’d likely have a blockbuster on your hands.” Patty slumped in her chair, defeated.

  But, Agent Jeter held her gaze. “Can you tell us about the appearance of these lizard-men, as you call them?”

  She straightened, nodding. “Nergal is tall, maybe seven or eight feet.”

  Warren coughed behind his hand, and she could swear it sounded like “bullshit”. Jeter rolled his eyes and motioned her to continue.

  “Nergal has scales all over his body like a snake. They’re small and whitish, olivey-greeny colored. And really soft and silky. Except for his chest and ab scales,” she gestured to those parts of her body. “Those were much larger, like plates, and a creamy shade of yellow. His ears and nose are slits,” she gestured to hers, “and his eyes are large and red with black pupils, like a cat’s.”

  “Is that all?” Warren prompted snidely.

  Patty bit her lower lip and wrinkled her nose. She was going to tell him about the others, but screw that. He was being too pissy.

  “You sure?” Jeter asked.

  Patty smiled at him sweetly and batted her eyes. “They have claws. On their hands and their feet. Oh, and pointy teeth.” She shuddered. How could she forget?

  Special Agent Warren leaned back in his
chair and clapped slowly. “Kudos, young lady. I believe you have just delivered an Oscar-winning performance.”

  Agent Jeter blinked behind his stylish glasses and leaned near to say softly, “Thank you, Patrika. Is there anything else? Anything at all?”

  Ignoring Warren, she ransacked her memory. “No, I think that’s it. But you believe me, don’t you?”

  The dark man studied her with eyes that were kind and wise. Then he blinked, and the strict agent-persona returned. Special Agent Jeter pushed back his chair. “Come, Patrika. Let’s retrieve your cell phone and get you back to work.”

  **

  The girl was telling the truth. Derek Jeter had known about the aliens since childhood when his FBI-agent mother was stationed at the complex beneath Denver International Airport. He’d had a fever and couldn’t go to school, so Derek went to work with her instead. He spent the day in sick-bay and saw things he wasn’t supposed to see, enough to give him nightmares for years.

  Only later had Derek learned he was a half-breed, part human, part reptilian. The blood of the creatures he’d thought of as monsters throughout his youth ran through his veins. His mother had shared her secret on her death bed—a secret Derek would carry to his own grave.

  He had no idea how he had managed to avoid being tapped for the Watcher program. But he kept ending up on their cases, nonetheless. Derek felt sorry for the girl. After his last case, he felt inclined to push her agenda with the higher-ups. As long as it didn’t land him in hot water again.

  Special Agent Warren was clueless. Or was it an act? Derek suspected he knew more than he was telling. How else could he be an FBI Watcher? It was their job to squelch rumors and information regarding the aliens. And if that was the case, Derek must tread lightly. Otherwise, Warren would have his head.

  Knowing what he knew about the Draconians, Derek shuddered. He finished recording his observations on his private tablet, secured it in its hiding place, and went back to work.

  **

  FBI Special Agent Becket Warren slowly spun his coffee cup and stared into its murky depths. He’d give anything not to make this call, but as head of the Watcher Division, it was up to him to report directly to Washington.