Bluestone

by C E Johnson

  The Ammolite Adventures Bluestone

  Copyright © 2015 C.E. Johnson

  All rights reserved

  Published by Clan Press 2015

  Austin, Tx

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  Cover image from B-Ro

  Website with maps and images: www.ammoliteadventures.com

  For my Clan

  and

  For Xena, my bondsmate

  Table of Contents

  Good Timber xii

  Chapter 1: Emily 1

  Chapter 2: Fourteen years ago 15

  Chapter 3: Samil 34

  Chapter 4: Tai Chi 52

  Chapter 5: Professor 82

  Chapter 6: Lessons 92

  Chapter 7: Four years ago 121

  Chapter 8: The Portal 141

  Chapter 9: Droth 147

  Chapter 10: Swim Team 152

  Chapter 11: Confrontation 168

  Chapter 12: Malachi 184

  Chapter 13: Cards 191

  Chapter 14: Creation 218

  Chapter 15: The First Clue 242

  Chapter 16: Departure 262

  Chapter 17: The Second Clue 267

  Chapter 18: Ullr and Wuldur 290

  Chapter 19: Dream-Link 298

  Chapter 20: Hadrian 307

  Chapter 21: Luke 310

  Chapter 22: Goodbye 320

  Chapter 23: Words 339

  Chapter 24: Castle-Cave 344

  Chapter 25: The Coven 366

  Chapter 26: Shield 377

  Chapter 27: Yapoks 387

  Chapter 28: Recovery 404

  Chapter 29: Bronte 407

  Epilogue 424

  The Dragon Prophecy 433

  Glossary of Auras434

  Glossary of Half-deads435

  Glossary of Time437

  Glossary of Characters440

  Glossary of Magic442

  Glossary of Locations 444

  Glossary of Possessions445

  Acknowledgements446

  Good Timber

  The tree that never had to fight

  For sun and sky and air and light,

  That stood out in the open plain

  And always got its share of rain,

  Never became a forest king,

  But lived and died a scrubby thing.

  The man who never had to toil

  To heaven from the common soil,

  Who never had to win his share

  Of sun and sky and light and air,

  Never became a manly man,

  But lived and died as he began.

  Good timber does not grow in ease;

  The stronger wind, the tougher trees;

  The farther sky, the greater length;

  The more the storm, the more the strength;

  By sun and cold, by rain and snows,

  In tree or man, good timber grows.

  Where thickest stands the forest growth

  We find the patriarchs of both;

  And they hold converse with the stars

  Whose broken branches show the scars

  Of many winds and of much strife-

  This is the common law of life

  —Douglas Malloch

  Taken from Mountain Trailways for Youths

  By Chas. E Cowman

  © 1947. Use by permission of Zondervan

  CHAPTER 1

  Emily

  Someone’s coming, Xena mentally informed Emily through their mind-link. Flipping the covers off the lower portion of the bed to emerge from her cave of blankets, the majestic Doberman sniffed the air suspiciously. Xena was everything imposing and fierce, a muscle-bound force of agility and strength.

  Emily woke reluctantly from a deep sleep, green eyes wearily opening. Is it my parents? she asked Xena groggily. Brushing her long honey-blonde hair out of her face, she assessed the scents flowing to her from Xena’s questioning nose, smells of sacrifice, hard-work and love. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she studied the essence of what Xena was sending her and she was certain most of the characteristics were associated with her father.

  It’s your father, but there’s something else at hand, Xena whispered, focusing on a foreign scent.

  Is that steel? Emily questioned the origin of one of the smells. There was some other element intermixed in the tendrils her bondsmate was conveying. In the back-ground she caught something alarming—there was the faintest whiff of agility, metal and danger.

  Something sharp is out there, Xena warned with growing certainty, leaning forward angrily. The biting taste of a weapon floating in the air was making both of them uneasy.

  Although she felt somewhat foolish for her increasing alarm in her own home, Emily’s wiry body automatically tensed during her rapid adjustment to her wakeful state. Shifting her position slightly, she was now prepared to assume a defensive posture if needed. Instinctively, she melded her consciousness with Xena’s while stretching out her hand to contact her Doberman. Her fingers buried themselves in her bondsmate’s soft fur. Emily was proud of the mass of dog-muscle at her side, so daunting and dangerous. Easy, girl, she thought. She always found a high degree of comfort emanating from the proximity of the warm bulk of her bondsmate. She didn’t need physical contact to share thoughts, but the close location of Xena reduced the amount of magus she had to expend to facilitate their mental link.

  It’s faint, but real. Xena sounded more and more certain of herself. I think it’s a sword. She continued sending her assessments along with smells through their mental

  bond.

  A sword? Emily couldn’t imagine her father with a sword, but she could easily identify the vague peril that was forming on the breeze. Without warning, an aggressive burst of wind swept through her room from her half-opened window, and several papers fluttered to the floor from her desk. Is he alone? Emily asked as she sorted through the myriad of perceptions and sensory inputs that continued to rush through their link.

  Someone else might be with him, Xena whispered while pricking up her ears, black as the darkest night. Xena began to wrinkle the dappled lighter brown markings on her face. Her lips curled back to reveal white canine fangs, which stood out in stark contrast against her adjacent coal-colored fur, and the hair on her neck bristled straight up like a rough brush. Xena was ready for action, coiling like a taut spring. Although she was rarely violent, Emily could sense she was ready to unleash an attack if necessary.

  None of this makes sense, Emily whispered, but Dr. D did warn us to always be on guard. With the question of a weapon in the air, she didn’t want to completely stifle Xena’s response. The wooden bedframe vibrated as a low questioning growl came out of her large animal.

  A worn hand with bruised and swollen knuckles curled around the door’s edge and pulled it open. Light from the outer hallway mixed with the evening shadows to dance eerily upon the exposed face which peered into her room. “I heard you playing the end of your sleep song list and I thought you’d be sound asleep.” Emily could read the concern in her father’s warm eyes as he
spoke. He was simply checking on her and he was alone. He certainly wasn’t the cause of her anxious feelings.

  It‘s only my father, Emily chided Xena lightly, and there’s no sword. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine,” she spoke softly.

  “Why are you both always awake when I walk in here?” he asked, glancing from Emily to Xena. His arms hung loosely at his sides. “I didn’t make a sound to disturb you, did I?” His shoulders sagged and there were dark circles under his eyes. Richard was a landscape architect and he was working too much lately.

  “It’s fine, really,” Emily began quietly, knowing she couldn’t reveal portions of her skills to her father because it would only make him uneasy. “You look tired,” she said in a hushed voice. She studied his weathered fingers with soil encrusting his nails. She could remember a time not long ago when he’d kept his hands well-washed, but now it seemed like it was harder for him to keep cleaning the dirt from the places his gloves just never seemed to protect.

  “I’m fine.” He shrugged nonchalantly in an attempt to deflect her concern. He was never one to focus on himself. Emily tried to read him. There was something bothering him, some underlying tension that she didn’t need her talents to reveal. Using his right hand, he brushed back his mop of brown hair in a familiar motion. Emily felt an overwhelming sense of sadness at seeing him age. There was increasing white in the hair over his ears, appearing like fluffs of cotton in a field of brown. “Are you thinking about your match?” he asked, fidgeting uncomfortably at the doorway. She could tell he was still worried he had awoken her.

  “I guess I was thinking about my match a little.” Emily gestured for him to sit by her.

  There’s something else on his mind, Xena whispered.

  Richard sat on the corner of Emily’s bed. He began to scratch Xena behind her ears and then he started rubbing Emily’s back, becoming quiet for a time. When he did speak, his voice was strained. “It’s probably silly for me to scare you, but the neighbors mentioned they saw some strange cars around recently. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I want you to be extra careful on your jogs … just in case.”

  “I will,” she promised. She appreciated his concern for her.

  Something’s been bothering me also, Xena revealed, flashing a sense of uncertainty that had been growing in the back of her mind over the last few days across their link.

  What could it be? Emily wondered to herself. She could sense the concern nibbling at the edges of her bondsmate’s consciousness and she wished she could track down the source of Xena’s unease. The doubts of both her father and her bondsmate sent a shiver down her spine, making her feel breathless.

  “Are you nervous to fight against Delores?” her father asked, interrupting her train of thought. He always seemed to be in awe of her desire to battle in martial arts with others.

  “My supreme trial?” Emily teased good-naturedly, feeling better as she became distracted by his question. “Are you talking about the girl that never had to fight for sun and sky and air and light?”

  “Of course,” Richard smiled at their inside joke. She knew he realized she was talking about the poem he loved, Good Timber. He had her memorize all the words years ago because he firmly believed that trials in life enhanced one’s character. The poem compared trees and humans and suggested they both became stronger by having to fight against challenges for survival.

  “I’ll have to overcome a very difficult test this time to achieve greater strength,” Emily said in a quiet voice. She wasn’t scared, but she was realistic about her next match. It was going to be tough. She pushed her lips together thoughtfully as she pictured the size of Delores in her mind.

  Her father gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and Emily unconsciously pulled back as the pointed tip of her ear was exposed. She continually attempted to hide her physical variant. “You’ll be fine,” he said tenderly. He gave her a last pat on her back, stood, and took a step toward the hallway. “Now, please keep that monster calm,” he pointed to Xena as he paused by Emily’s door.

  It’s hard to remain calm when there’s something out there, Xena warned Emily while jumping from the bed to the floor. Padding silently, she went to the partially open window and stared out into the dark. I think your father is right to be concerned about the strange cars.

  Let it be, Z. Emily needed her sleep, so she encouraged her bondsmate to get back in bed. Xena gave a grunt and jumped back up next to Emily. Sticking her long nose under the edge of the blankets, in one smooth motion she flipped the covers up in the air and rapidly slithered toward Emily’s feet like a snake. Emily could sense her displeasure and frustration that she hadn’t identified the cause of her concern as she cocooned herself against Emily’s legs.

  Her father gave a short laugh. “That’s one spoiled dog. Goodnight, Em.”

  Emily could hear his steps retreating down the hallway outside her room and then going down the stairs. Her door was left partially open, and a glow was entering from a light in the hallway. Calming her mind, Emily concentrated on the door while speaking her psionic word of power, Pulsus. Pulling a burst of energy into her consciousness, she let the warm blue sparks flow in a rich blue current. The door moved quickly, shutting completely, leaving her in darkness. Emily smiled to herself knowing Dr. D would be proud of her growing strength, but her budding talents raised so many questions in her heart. Where did I get these powers? What other spells will I learn?

  Hush, Xena said gently. Dr. D will answer all your questions at your next lesson.

  You’re my best friend, Emily conveyed to Xena as warm love for her bondsmate filled her heart. She basked in the pleasure of their close bond. Tell me you’ll be with me forever, she said softly, delighting in Xena’s pack-like sensations.

  I’ll be with you til the end, Xena whispered. Now get some rest, tomorrow’s going to be a big day.

  Okay, Z, Emily sighed, knowing her bondsmate was right. Xena fell rapidly into a deep sleep, but Emily’s skin prickled as she thought of the scents in the wind that Xena had revealed to her. Eventually, Emily listened to her bondsmate’s deep breathing and focused on aligning her mental wavelengths with Xena’s restful mind. She slowly fell into a fitful sleep.

  * * * Dysis * * *

  Just outside Emily’s window, Dysis Hoshi sat in a large utility vehicle on the other side of the street from the Whayne’s house. She stared out at the darkening night. A light, lazy breeze was gently caressing the leaves in the oak trees around her position causing them to tussle and sway.

  Dysis hadn’t seen any changes in the Whayne’s lights for the last hour. The darkness was complete. It was time to move. She quietly opened the door of her vehicle and stepped onto the peaceful blacktop. She stretched for a moment enjoying the fluid state of her muscles, knowing she was in the best shape of her life. A crescent moon looked down upon her, wreathed by wispy clouds that trailed across its pale surface like plumes of smoke. She scanned the area with a practiced eye, but she wasn’t too worried about being seen. Even if someone picked up her image on a camera monitoring device, they would never be able to track her. She knew what they would see—only a shadowy female of Asian descent dressed all in black. Perhaps someone with a seasoned eye would be able to pick up the sword hilt in the scabbard on her back. Since admittedly that might disturb a few of the citizens of Austin, Texas, she rearranged her long hair to somewhat shield her sword, but she didn’t take it off.

  She whipped around to face the Whayne’s house and began to rush forward with stealthy elegance. Quick movements flowed from her as she weaved in and out of the bushes and cars by the street. Feeling emboldened, she ran through the grass and vaulted into the air, performing a double layout and finishing with a twist. She had just performed a series of gymnastics moves that only a handful of females in the world could dream of completing, all with a sword on her back. Breathing rapidly, she crouched by a bush in the Whayne’s yard attempting to regain control of her respiration while focusing again on the job at han
d. She surveyed the Whayne’s house for several moments. There was only pure silence. She began to place tiny cameras and listening machines in areas where she was sure they would never be found.

  With her mission complete, she pulled out a small electronic device and typed in several code words to let her fellow agents know that everything was ready for use. The low white light emanating from the electronics momentarily lit up her statuesque features in a ghostly-glow. She smiled to herself. She loved her job.

  Once back in her car, she called her director on a secure mobile device. “I put the listening equipment in place. Are they all online?”

  “I just received the confirmation that they’re up and running,” Hadrian answered her question. “Blacksky is fully operational.” The government allowed surveillance of people that they suspected were enemies of the homeland, and Blacksky used these precedents to their advantage. “Did anyone see you?”

  “Are you kidding me,” Dysis scoffed while gazing into the surrounding inky darkness. She liked when it was pitch black outside. With her line of work, she found she was often working in her favorite medium. She was a high-level lieutenant, the head of a special operations squad employed by Blacksky, a contract division of the United States Central Intelligence Agency. “I’ll position the devices outside Dr. Dalton’s home next.” Although only in her mid-twenties, Dysis was a born leader. She operated on Hadrian’s most difficult missions.

  “What did you think of the file I sent you on Dr. Andrew Dalton?” Hadrian asked. There was an edge to his voice. Dysis knew he was testing her.

  “He’s a brilliant man and a skilled surgeon,” Dysis began, “but there’s much more to him than meets the eye. I can see your concerns because of the mystery around him. I started my own research. I can’t find any details on his early life.” Dysis opened a computer file and sorted through the notes she had taken on Hadrian’s target.

  “Exactly.” Hadrian sounded pleased with her. “Somehow he’s amassed a great fortune that doesn’t make sense based on his earnings. He lives in a well-guarded, secure compound and travels extensively with forged documents.”