by C E Johnson
“I want to go with you.” Isabelle’s eyes glinted with more excitement than apprehension. “I know we’re trying to save Earth and we should probably focus on that, but I keep thinking about our magic. Do you think we might have the potential for bonding to an animal on Acacia, or even on Earth?”
“I don’t know,” Emily smiled as Xena appeared. She leaned toward Xena and rubbed her bondsmate. “Anyone with a magical aura on Acacia has the chance to bond. Regardless, I believe magic is what makes the world go around, and your development may be instrumental in whatever we accomplish.”
“I want to go also,” Luke spoke firmly. There was no hesitation in his words. “You’re going to need a top-notch gladiator at your side.”
“Where are we going to find a warrior like that?” Emily teased, leaning in to him. He laughed easily and leaned back in to her with a satisfied smile. She was proud that Luke sounded so sure of himself.
“Probably guarding your back when you get into trouble starting a new massive war that all humanity will depend on,” Luke bantered back. “Besides, I want to get that Acacean feeling back. I have this inner craving to experience the heightening again.” Isabelle began quietly singing a song about getting a feeling back that you had lost and they all laughed and sang along with her.
“Awesome.” Emily studied her team. Luke locked eyes and she felt a sudden faint flush creeping up her neck as she thought of kissing Luke on Acacia with her heightened senses. She looked away from him to clear her mind. “I plan on leaving early tomorrow morning, so we’ll spend one more night in our own homes with our families.” Emily turned to Anna, her advisor who hadn’t spoken yet about her plans, “What do you think?”
Anna furrowed her brow and was silent for a minute before she started to laugh. “I’m so in. I was in before you asked the question. I’d go back to Acacia just for the heightened sensations, but when you mentioned I might be able to fly … wow. Whenever I think about the one power of magic I’d like to have, it’s flying. Can you try and teach me?”
“Definitely.” Emily giggled as goosebumps formed on her arms and a chill of excitement went down her back. They’re all going to go, she gushed to her bondsmate.
Was there really any doubt in your mind? Xena sounded equally excited.
“Tell me a little more about Iscar’s message,” Luke requested thoughtfully. “Can you show us his words?” The laughter died down and Emily and her friends moved closer together. Rough noises from nearby traffic droned in Emily’s ears, but she blocked out the irritating cacophony and dropped into a meditative state to begin a dream-link, replaying Iscar’s message to her small group of friends.
“Would you ever ask the dragons to come to Earth?” Elizabeth asked in a hushed voice after viewing the scenes depicting the destruction of Earth.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Emily shook her head sadly. “There are too many strong weapons here on Earth. I think our forces would be attacked by our own military.” Xena left Emily’s side and went back to her ridge, standing defiantly in an alert guard position. Darkness cloaked the friends and shadows flitted outside their protective circle. “I want to find out where Iscar is so we can use our advantage, Blacksky. If Hadrian can locate and capture him, I think we can end all of this.”
“So, we’re on a quest for the Dothan Forest.” Luke rubbed his leg, and Emily could still see the faint scar from where he had been injured in their battle against Samil. A small tremor ran through her as she thought of Luke getting wounded again. Unconsciously, her hand flitted to one of her many scars on her own leg, which were fading, but which she could still feel.
Anna’s brown eyes appeared wary. “Even if we stop Iscar, some other relative could come to Earth. I wonder if we should try and lock up his portal somehow.”
Emily was impressed by Anna’s rapid assessment of the situation. “You’re right. My father also believes we need to shut down or lock up Iscar’s portal because it might be the key to saving Earth.”
“What time should we cross?” Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around her legs and rocked slowly back and forth as the wind bit at them.
Emily stood and paced before clearing her throat. “We should tell our parents we’re going to meet early for a jog tomorrow and after that we’re going hiking together down to the lake, not returning until in the evening. If everything goes well, we should be home tomorrow night. That will give us over twelve Earth hours, which is around half a year on Acacia … I don’t think this trip will be longer than six months.”
Isabelle added to the proposal. “We can each make plans on spending the night with a friend in case we’re gone longer.”
Warn them to be at peace before they leave, Xena advised in a quiet voice.
Emily paused for a moment wondering how to express her worries and be honest with her friends. “Remember to spend a little quality time with your family. Make peace with any you have offended … I never know for sure that I’ll return.”
Emily’s last comment sobered the mood and their excitement noticeably diminished. “Too gloomy for a send-off speech, Em,” Luke said quietly. “But you’re right. We’re getting carried away with magic. We should realize what we’re getting into.”
“I know what could happen,” Anna said with firm resolution. “I’m in. No regrets. I want to see Acacia at least one more time.”
Isabelle began to talk rapidly. Emily could tell it was her nerves. “I wonder if I might bond with a horse or a dragon.”
“Or maybe a rat,” Luke teased.
“That’s idiot,” Isabelle retorted with a non-grammatical play on words. They laughed and began to talk once again with enthusiasm.
Emily’s phone rang, interrupting their fun. “It’s my mother,” Emily told her friends. “I have to head home. Dinner time. My father likes to read a Bible quote before we eat.”
Each friend gave Emily a warm embrace before she left, but Elizabeth clung to her for a moment longer than the others and spoke to her. “I know you’re worried about taking us to Acacia again, but remember, it’s our choice. You’ve given us happier lives and you’ve allowed us to make an impact on two worlds. Thank you for your gifts.”
“You’ve really given my life meaning,” Anna echoed, wise beyond her years, her eyes wide open, honest and pure. “We know this will be dangerous, but don’t carry the weight of our decision on your consciousness. We know what we’re getting into.”
“Just load up your shield battery,” Isabelle teased, “I’m not going into any battle without it.”
“And make sure my sword Draculafire has a few more strength spells cast on it,” Luke grinned.
Thank goodness for friends, Emily thought.
Life revolves around the pack, Xena whispered.
As Emily left the construction site, the radio began to detail more earthquakes along with new problems with animal migrations. It’s definitely time to go, she realized.
C H A P T E R 1 2
Lessons
Malachi reviewed the agenda for the next meeting of the members of the Stargate Project that had been sent to him by email. The Stargate Project was the name his father had brought back to life for a government-sponsored group whose members demonstrated some form of psychic ability. Malachi had asked for time to be set aside for him to address the team. The topic of his talk was a secret even to his parents, and he was both terrified and thrilled about the potential fallout from his speech.
Hoping to gain assistance in putting the finishing touches on his impactful words for the council, Malachi wanted to converse one last time with his magical mentor, the wraith-spirit of Drogor who resided in the purgatory world of Ater. Drogor was actually the one who had organized the outline of the speech, continually urging Malachi to pass along a special prophecy to the members of the group.
The President and his wife were both out of the White House, and Malachi sprinted noisily up the stairs to his favorite room in the old building. Floorboards groaned and creake
d under his feet as he dashed through the shadow-filled hallways. Malachi ignored the eerie sounds and stormed into the attic, knowing any ghosts in the area would never harm him. He calmed his mind and organized his thoughts, setting a series of alarms on his phone to make certain he would awaken after a two-hour trip into the world of Ater. Opening a secret compartment beneath the floorboards and retrieving his blackstone, he felt instantly at ease. He brushed his fingertips along the smooth surface, feeling the gentle waves of magus respond to his touch, flickering in waves of electricity on his skin. Malachi sighed in pleasure, like an addict responding to a dose of their favorite drug after a long absence. He pulled his soft pillow and warm sleeping bag into a suitable position, seeking a place where his body could relax while he mentally departed to other lands. Placing his blackstone on his forehead, Malachi slowed his breathing and fell into a meditative state. He began speaking the words as he had been taught, while letting go of his earthly tethers and soaring to enter the gates of the world of Ater. A variety of emotions and sensations cascaded through his mind. Initially there was a wave of depressing and repulsive revulsion for the bleakness of the dark world where little moved amid the gloomy desolation. However, once the wraith-spirits began to approach him, his mood underwent a fundamental change as he became the focus of their adulation. He was unique in this world, and almost every spirit was attracted to his vitality, requesting to feed off his magus in exchange for secrets.
Malachi had an excellent sense of direction in the dreary desolation, and he willed himself to move away from the increasingly aggressive spirits that attempted to slow his progress with greater enticements. The phantasms offered him knowledge lost to mankind, the locations of wondrous treasure, their service, anything to be freed from Ater. Malachi knew his skills were growing, and he could now actually grant the wraith-spirits their wishes because Drogor had taught him the spell to form a Mavet raa, but he wasn’t ready to test the limits of his magus, not just yet. Inhumane screeches and cawing noises burst from the wraiths with his departure, but they couldn’t catch him, his spirit was faster than theirs and he floated onward, ignoring their desperation. He sped past dark hills, valleys, small mountains, and gnarled dead trees as he outdistanced his pursuers and their defiant rage.
Drogor’s spirit enjoyed a cave complex in a mountainous region where tunnels formed an intricate labyrinth. The channels of darkness gave Malachi a feeling of claustrophobia, with areas reeking of nothingness and despair. Likewise, there were few noises in the deep pitch black that was so thick that Malachi felt as if it was painted on his mind, clouding his consciousness. He eventually emerged from one passageway that ascended away from the tunnels, opening out upon a dark path that led to a flat outcropping which afforded a relatively stunning view for Ater, looking out over a valley from the edge of a small mountaintop. Malachi slowed his approach. He felt breathless, but there really wasn’t any breathing in this place, and he knew he was simply anxious. The dark bulk of Drogor’s wraith spirit was there, just as he knew it would be.
“Malachi,” Drogor’s voice was hoarse and he spoke in a raspy tone, “you’ve returned.”
“I thought I should find out if you have any final teachings before I speak to the Stargate Council.” Malachi hesitantly slowed his progression toward Drogor’s shadowy apparition. The dark wraith-like creature had a humanoid shape, but with poor definition of any facial features. Drogor gestured for Malachi to stand next to him and Malachi knew they wouldn’t be disturbed, especially while Drogor fed off his magus. Drogor’s spirit was powerful in this realm and he wouldn’t allow any other spirit in their presence. A sickening sound arose as Drogor began to suck from Malachi’s inner power, a noise like a knife being slowly scraped over rock. The sound was loud at first, before lowering in tone, as if blunted by a gurgling liquid, thick as blood. Malachi didn’t feel pain, but more of a discomfort, as if his very marrow was being gently stripped from his bones.
“The time has come,” Drogor said in a slow, steady voice. No lips could be seen in his ghastly shape, and his words came from nowhere and everywhere all at once in a monotonous drone. “The time for your ascension approaches.” Malachi blocked out his aches and focused intently, hoping to soak up any clues that might escape his mentor. At times, he was granted pieces of the future in complex prophecies, but in many of his encounters with Drogor, he was simply learning about the fine line between good and evil with the distinction increasingly blurred. The sarcasm inherent in the beast was usually somewhat shielded, but Malachi found a deep underlying current of disdain growing in Drogor as if the shield was wearing thin. He could more easily hear the bite and condescending attitude directed at him, spite the ancient phantasm could no longer conceal, or no longer cared to hide. Malachi studied Drogor, searching for the impression of a face amongst the dark shadows.
“I know this meeting is important and I want to get the words right. Please tell me again how to show them the way.” Malachi pulled slightly away from Drogor as the pulling from his core was becoming nearly unbearable. He didn’t like the way his own voice rang in his mind, in a weak whine.
“How many individuals are on your Stargate Council?” Drogor boomed out the question, the words resonating with a deep pitch that pierced deep into Malachi’s soul.
“There are twelve of us … including me.” Malachi didn’t think he could endure much more of the feeding today. Drogor was becoming too aggressive and abusive.
“You must convince them that greater destruction will come.” Drogor spoke firmly and with such confidence that Malachi began to gain strength and resolve from Drogor’s conviction. “Tell them more earthquakes will occur in the days to follow, moving islands and mountains out of place, causing many of the people of Earth to retreat into caves.”
“They will ask me why this is occurring,” Malachi whispered, but he thought he already knew the answer.
Drogor stopped his feeding and turned his dark form to face Malachi. “The Earth is involved in an upheaval, responding to the approaching great battle between good and evil.”
Malachi’s mind raced. He had to ask a question that was bothering him, and he hoped he could read the truth in Drogor’s voice. “And what is your role in this conflict?” Malachi’s voice was weak and faint.
Drogor’s spirit suddenly made a deep gurgling noise and Malachi realized he must be laughing, if that was even possible for a wraith. The creature leaned into Malachi and began to feed slowly again on his magus. There was a dark gloomy smell of death around Drogor that weighed heavily upon Malachi’s mind, blotting out everything. Malachi felt the pain return, but he didn’t really mind this time, at least it reminded him he was alive. Drogor answered in a dark voice. “You know my role. I will be Earth’s savior.”
Malachi heard the patronizing and irritatingly condescending attitude emitting from Drogor’s mouth. Is he telling me lies? Malachi wondered. Nevertheless, he desperately wanted to believe in his mentor and he wanted more of the power Drogor was granting him. He wanted to make his father proud and he wanted a girlfriend; he wanted Amanda. “You are ‘good’ … right Drogor?” Malachi was startled by the depth of his plaintive whimpering with this feeble question.
Drogor began to laugh again, and Malachi couldn’t suppress a shuddering shake that wracked his spirit as he looked upon the wraith. The feeding had strengthened Drogor, and for a brief moment he appeared almost fully formed. The creature before Malachi resembled a dark vampire, strong and proud. The beast stopped laughing and sneered at Malachi. “I am good.”
Malachi’s suspicions were bolstered by input from the voice inside his head, the voice Drogor had taught him was called his ki. His ki was informing him that Drogor’s last statement was not the truth. Am I just a pawn in a larger game? Why am I important? Malachi knew he would have to keep on playing for now because he was learning too much to stop at this point, but someday soon he needed to be prepared to walk away from Ater and Drogor.
“If you are good, who i
s the evil one?” Malachi asked. “Who are you preparing for?”
“A girl will lead the evil ones,” Drogor spat in a hissing tone. “She will bring elves and dragons upon Earth, causing many to die and massive destruction. You must prepare your council to lead your army of survivors to counter her evil.”
Malachi’s ki again warned him of problems with Drogor’s statement; there were both truths and falsehoods in his words. I must be cautious with him, Malachi thought to himself. He spoke to Drogor, “And you think we’ll be prepared if we follow your lead?”
“Of course,” Drogor spoke slowly with honey dripping off his words. “And your father, your country, and your world will be proud of you. Amanda will be proud of you.”
Malachi’s spirit winced as Drogor talked about his father. He knew Drogor’s spirit was playing on his hopes and fears. “How will I convince the council of the truth?”
Drogor turned from Malachi to gaze upon the valley below them. “A messenger will bring you blackstones which I want you to give to each member of the council. Tell them it’s a gift that will help target their powers. Through the stones I will be able to teach each of them the truth. The words in your speech will be a catalyst to stimulate their desire for more knowledge.”
“Where are the stones coming from?” Malachi thought about his own blackstone, his most prized possession.
“Many stones are coming across a portal from Acacia. The stone transfer will give magicians like you more power on Earth and the stones will help demolish the old forces on your planet, giving rise to a new king.”
“A new king?” Malachi whispered in astonishment.
“The king’s name will be Iscar,” Drogor continued. “You will be on his council. This is your time, Malachi. You won’t be given another chance. Either follow me, or be swept aside in the flood of chaos.”
Malachi listened to the changes in Drogor’s tones, the rising emotions. “And my family?” Malachi blurted.
