by O J Barré
“Ssssssss…”
Brian’s neck tingled. “It’s behind us.”
He turned in the direction they’d been traveling and shined his light. Where the wall met the floor was an opening, but nothing else. Brian inched closer. The hole was just large enough to shimmy through.
He waved his light over it. “Should we see what’s in there?”
Ethnui’s nose scrunched in distaste. She looked at both ends of the long, dark tunnel and wagged her head. “I guess we should. If it’s a dead end, we can retrace our steps.”
“You first.”
“Manners, Brian!” Hamilton scolded out loud.
Ethnui squatted and shined her light into the hole. “It looks like it goes through to the other side.” She scooted closer and slung her legs over the edge, rolled her eyes at Brian, and slid inside. There was a scraping whoosh, a thud, and a grunt. Then nothing.
Brian dropped to his belly and yelled into the hole, “Ethnui?”
“Uh-huh?”
“You okay down there?”
“Yes. Come on down. There’s another passage, and it leads in the right direction.”
Brian twisted to sit on the edge, legs dangling. Slipping his lightstick into the side pocket of his pack, he yelled, “Geronimo!” and pushed off, falling a short distance onto a pile of rocks.
“OUCH!” he groaned and scrambled to his feet.
“Shhh!” Ethnui warned. “I hear something.”
“Like what?” Brian dusted his hind end and picked a chunk of gravel out of his elbow.
“Shhh!” she repeated.
Realizing he was panting, Brian held his breath. A slithering came from the tunnel to their right.
“Isn’t that east?” he said quietly.
“Yes.” Ethnui flicked her flashlight down the tunnel, then over Brian.
“Oww,” he whined, clamping a hand over his eyes. “Why’d you do that?”
“Making sure you’re in one piece.” Her tone was light. Which calmed his skittering nerves just a little. “Ready?”
He drew his light from his pack and trained its beam on hers. “After you.”
The path climbed steadily and was steep in places. Before long, Brian broke into a sweat. He stopped to tie his jacket around his waist and shove his sleeves up, then hurried to catch Ethnui. She stood in front of an enormous mound of rocks that blocked the path.
“What the hay?” Brian came up beside her. “Looks like a cave-in or something.”
“It’s another dead-end is what it is.” Her tone was heavy with disappointment. “We’ll have to go back.”
“Wait! Listen!” Ham interjected, making Brian jump.
A scrabbling sound echoed through the chamber. On the other side of the mound, something scratched at the rocks. Brian and Ethnui looked at one another, eyebrows raised.
“A rat most likely.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Or some other furry creature. I doubt it would hurt us.”
Tackling the pile, Brian hefted rocks and chunked them to the side. “Help me, Ethnui.”
“No. Stand back. Both of you,” Hamilton ordered. “Remember that spell you memorized? The one we used to get the stones off your legs?”
“Yes!” Brian thumped his forehead with his palm. “I keep forgetting I know magic!”
Ethnui flicked the light over his face, and he clamped his eyes shut.
“Do it, Human. Get us out of this hell.”
With a confidence born of having done it before, Brian spoke the spell. The rocks rolled from the opening as easily as they had lifted from his legs the other day.
“Way to go!” Ethnui cheered. Brian took a sweeping bow.
Together, they stepped through the opening into a large chamber. On the far wall, their lights illuminated a series of crude steps that were carved into the bedrock. Approaching the earthen staircase, they directed their beams up toward the ceiling. Eyes the size of saucers blinked amber in the light.
Shrieking, Brian dropped his lightstick and backed away quickly. Ethnui stumbled into him and grabbed his hand to keep from falling. An electrical shock shot through Brian, giving him the strength to face anything.
Until a deep, gravelly roar shook the chamber, and dirt and pebbles rained on their heads. Brian’s knees knocked together, and he was grateful for the reassurance of Ethnui’s hand. He squeezed and held tight.
“Approach, young raven,” the voice boomed.
Trembling all over, Brian consulted Hamilton. “Sir? We could really use your help about now.”
“Whoever it is, must know you. They called you ‘young raven’. I say we approach.”
“You are wise to do so, Master Druid.” This time, the gruff voice came from the other side of the chamber.
They wheeled, and Ethnui shined her light in that direction.
The cave sprang to life as rays of colored light shot from thousands of mirrors and danced upon the walls. Huddled amid the flamboyant prisms, the amber eyes gleamed. And below the eyes was the largest collection of teeth Brian had ever seen.
“It’s a dragon!” he gasped and backed through the opening with Ethnui. His legs trembled, and his heart pounded. This was worse than lizard-men—and a heckuva lot bigger. Its enormous gemmed body filled the chamber.
“Leaving already?” The dragon sounded amused. “You just got here.” It bowed politely. “Hello, lovely lady. My name is Talav. Might I have yours?”
“E-Ethnui,” the Fomorian sputtered.
“Such a pretty name. Pleased to meet you, deary.” The dragon’s long neck swung back toward Brian. Its eyes gleamed. “Where is the master druid?”
“You are a dragon,” Ethnui gasped in disbelief. “I’ve heard about dragons, heard they still existed. But I didn’t believe it. Not until now.” She moved a half-step closer to the scaled creature. Rudimentary horns stood at attention atop a crocodilian face that swerved toward the Fomorian.
“No, Ethnui. Come back.” Brian grabbed a handful of her robe and tugged hard. “That thing will eat you.”
“Bwahahahaha, heeheehee, hahahahah!” Its booming laughter reverberated through the chamber, dislodging more stones.
Brian ducked and clapped his hands over his head. When the laughter died away, he stepped to the middle of the available space and faced the dragon. Since the beast hadn’t fried them, and it had enjoyed a good laugh at their expense, it probably wasn’t planning to eat them. At least, not yet.
“Who are you, Sir?” Brian demanded. The dragon roared, but Brian stood his ground when its hot breath seared the hair on his head.
“I am Talav, Queen of the Earth Dragons, Keeper of Earth’s portals. It is my job to keep UnderEarth creatures inside where they belong and AboveEarth beings out of harm’s way.”
Brian’s excitement grew. “I know you! Hope, the cat Elder told us the story of Awen and the Dragon Keepers. You’re one of them. You’re Talav!”
The dragon’s eyes glittered. “Aye. That was no story, but pure truth.” It burped and flames licked the ceiling. Brian and Ethnui ducked. The dragon chuckled.
“I thought Emily was with you. Can you help us? Can you get us back to AboveEarth?” Brian held his breath and prayed she would help them. If not, they’d have to make a run for the tunnels and hope for the best.
Talav stretched her long, jeweled neck toward the carved staircase. “You stand before a portal between the worlds. As I said before, it is my sworn duty to keep all from passing.” Colored lights danced about the cave when she settled on her haunches.
Brian’s nerve wavered, but he stood tall. Ethnui stepped up beside him and slipped her arm through his. Strength coursed through him. Nudging him with her elbow, she nodded toward the tunnel. He winked understanding and turned slightly in that direction.
“Halt!” the dragon bellowed. “I shall not harm you. In fact, I intend to help. Assuming you are indeed a friend of the Awen.” The yellow eyes twinkled.
Brian held tight to Ethnui’s hand. Awen was Emily’s ancestor, t
he source of her power. “You mean Emily?”
The dragon cocked its head to one side. “Yes, that is her earthly name. Or so she keeps insisting.”
Brian’s hope rekindled. “Where is she? We were separated in the earthquake.”
“She is safe beyond your ken, young raven. Do you want my help? Or would you retrace your treacherous steps to nowhere to escape my good intentions?”
Ethnui stepped forward, keeping a firm grasp on Brian’s hand. “Losgann the Frog Elder sent us here. Can you get us through the barrier between the worlds?”
The dragon towered over them now, wing-nubs lifted, horns extended, and scales flinging kaleidoscopic-colors everywhere.
“Speak the word, friend of Awen, and I shall let you pass.”
The word? Brian’s heart beat so hard it might burst from his chest.
“And what word would that be, Queen Talav? I am tired, hungry, and in no mood for games. What word could I give you that would grant us passage from this miserable place? Uncle? Abracadabra? Beam me up, Scotty? What word is it that you seek, oh wise one?”
The dragon laughed, a long, throaty, rumbling roar that echoed through the chamber and dislodged more rocks. Brian and Ethnui crouched and covered their heads. When its mirth was spent, it settled on mighty haunches.
“You have a sense of humor, young raven. Speak the word of passage and I shall clear the way for you and the Fomorian.”
Frustrated, Brian growled and stomped his feet. He let go of Ethnui’s hand and a word formed, tickling his senses.
“Please?” he mumbled.
The Ferry
Emily showered quickly and donned the casual linen pants and kiwi-colored blouse, then stuffed underwear, tank tops, and assorted toiletries into a hemp shoulder bag. Though the storm seethed overhead, a-Ur had demanded they leave for the vortex at once.
Zipping the bag closed, she removed Aóme from its hiding place and slipped the emerald on her index finger, feeling stronger right away. The ruby amulet she placed around her neck, and the otter and frog stone she tucked in each of her pants pockets.
Eyeing her reflection in the full-length mirror, she hummed Taliesin’s song and pulled her wayward hair back in a bun. She fastened it with the ivory pin Khenko had presented her with loving tenderness. He’d said it was one of his prized possessions and would be an asset to Emily should the need arise.
On the beach beneath the shelter of the cabana, the dragons gave Emily final instructions. One by one, they schooled her on setting protective spells, wormhole logistics, and what to do when they reached Beli. Then they waited impatiently in the driving rain while Emily said goodbye to Khenko.
Promising to keep in touch, she hugged and thanked the new friend she owed so much. She eyed the Center and its surrounding grounds, gaze lingering on the back porch and narrow beach where they had spent so much time. With a resigned lump clogging her throat, Emily tied the plastic hood close to her head, waved to the dragons, and turned to follow the medicine man.
They wound along the shore a short way, then cut through the jungle to a cove Emily had not visited before. The wind howled in from the ocean, whipping the palms into a frenzy and driving the rain sideways against her plastic slicker.
The craft Khenko used to ferry seekers to the vortex rocked in its mooring. He climbed over the side and into the enclosed cabin. Admiring the vessel’s workmanship and size, Emily climbed in, grateful for the dry, air-conditioned interior. She removed her rain gear as the motor roared to life. Its throaty purr competed with the drumming torrent on the fiberglass roof.
“Here goes nothing,” Khenko yelled above the din.
The boat inched backward through the churning water until it cleared the floating dock. Forwarding the throttle, Khenko maneuvered the vessel out to sea, where Emily could barely see Ooschu and Talav cavorting in the swells. The dragons would escort them to the vortex.
Overhead, the storm raged, drowning the thrum of the powerful engine. Emily gripped the seat as waves crashed against the sturdy boat, swamping the gunwales. Tropical rain strafed the cabin, and the wind wailed through the flapping ensign flag.
The ship pitched from side to side. Emily’s queasiness returned. When they hit a deep trough, her stomach lurched and she held on tight. The smoothie she had downed threatened to come back up. She fought the nausea and tried to keep her eyes on a horizon that wasn’t visible.
“Hey!” Khenko yelled, leaning close. “You healed your wounds back there at the center, and you’ve been working on weather spells. Think you could calm this storm?” His bushy eyebrows conveyed fear and hope.
Emily blinked like a paralyzed owl.
He backed off the throttle. “I’ll set the engine to idle if you want to try.”
Terror clutched at Emily’s heart. She stared at Khenko, remembering the tornados that had spared Jocko’s Restaurant while ripping Druid Hills apart, and the blizzard Awen had quelled at Wren’s Roost. What he asked was possible. But could she do it?
Emily wavered, too frightened to move.
“I’m here,” Awen whispered. “You can do it.”
Courage shot through Emily like the lightning that ripped across the sky. She stood, determined, as thunder cracked and rolled. “Why the hell not?” she yelled over the noise. “The worst that can happen is nothing, right?”
Donning the wet slicker, Emily tied the hood under her chin, and exited the cabin. Wind and rain slammed against her. Clinging to the handle, she reached for a stanchion and held on tight, squealing when the door slammed behind her. She peered over the side into the raging sea and almost barfed.
Gathering her wits, she swallowed hard and nodded to Khenko through the cabin window. Blinding rain lashed her face and streamed down her chin. Emily recited the Lord’s Prayer and squeezed between the cabin and bulwark. A stalk of lightning lit the heavens and thunder boomed. The sweet scent of ozone filled the air.
Wedged in place, she planted her legs to absorb the pitching. Dawn infused the gloom with light, but all she could see was driving rain. Emily stroked the emerald ring on her forefinger and inhaled deeply, then exhaled before sucking in another long breath.
Holding Aóme against the amulet on her chest, she thought of the ancestor from whence she had sprung. A warmth spread through Emily’s limbs. Her heart soared. Feeling Awen’s power gather within her, Emily flung her head back to beseech the sky.
She reveled in the wind and rain upon her face, and the vast ocean cradled by the earth. Tapping into the fire that burned within her, Emily spoke the spell, adding her own twist, “I increase the witch’s storm and send it back to her.”
The rain ceased.
The wind stilled momentarily, then changed directions.
The storm barreled off to the east.
The ocean stopped churning and settled into a gentle swell.
Emily squealed. Her invocation had worked. And without being controlled or possessed by the Awen.
Thanking her Maker and her ancestor, Emily ratcheted out of the tight space and ducked into the cabin.
“I did it!” she shrieked to the grinning medicine man.
Khenko delivered a sopping bear hug, then high-fived her proudly. “You certainly did. Way to go, kid.”
a-Ur swooped down and tipped a wing in homage. Ooschu and Talav breached the ocean and saluted Emily from the air. Grinning, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“I sent the storm back to Shalane in Nassau,” she muttered sheepishly to Khenko. “I hope we don’t have to go that way.”
Staying Behind
After showering and changing clothes at the resort, Shalane buzzed the front desk for a bellhop and waited impatiently. Her trip to the Bahamas had been a bust. Well, not totally. At least she knew that Emily was alive.
Only where was she now? And how had she escaped? The woman’s powers must be strong indeed, to magick herself from a tied-up position in the bottom of Shalane’s boat and vanish into midair. Her disappointment was bitter. Shalane had w
anted to deliver Emily to her brother. Now she would be forced to tell him she had failed. Not the greeting she had anticipated.
Shalane took a motor cab to the tiny airport, which consisted of two runways and one small building. There was a surprising amount of activity, considering the early hour. It was still dark.
Making a beeline for a tiny cafe that had just opened, she ordered a cup of coffee and a muffin. But, before it was delivered, she was confronted by Mitch Wainwright. Her heart quickened, in spite of his obvious temper.
“What took you so long?” He grabbed her by the front of her shirt. Pulling her to him, he planted a kiss on Shalane lips, then held her away. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting forever.”
“Miss me?” she sassed.
“Only a little.” The ice-blue eyes searched the terminal behind Shalane. “Where’s Emily?” His tone was menacing.
Her own anger spiked. “Gone. I had her. I had Emily, Mitch.” Color sprang to the attorney’s handsome face. “Then, she disappeared. From the front of the boat. She was tied up, too. And she vanished, right from under my nose.”
His brow crinkled into a surly scowl. “Then we’re going back.”
“No use. I searched. She’s gone. It’s time to go home, Mitch.”
“But—”
“She’s gone, Mitchell. Do you feel her energy?” He was silent a moment.
“No. Not particularly. But I’m not all that good at feeling energy.” He looked out at the brightly-lit tarmac, at the bronzed Bahamian shuttling luggage into the hold, and the Learjet taxiing between two commercial liners waiting to take off.
Shalane studied his profile and wondered what he was thinking. She could read most men. This one, not so much. He slid his cell phone from his pocket and held up one finger, then spoke into the phone.
“Rochelle, this is Mitch. Clear my schedule for the next two days. This is going to take longer than I expected. If anything needs handling, give it to Scotty. And if you need me, call my cell. See ya soon.”