Shift (The Pandorma Adventures Book 1)

by Mikaela Nicole

  “We’ll be okay.”

  I straighten up and look him in the eye. “I know,” I say steadily.

  * * * *

  “Ready?” Ryan asks.

  “Ready!” Shiver squeals and I nod.

  To Shiver this just seems to be a big adventure. I’m not even sure if she knows how dangerous it could be.

  “You have the pack?” I ask as I slide off the rock I’d been sitting on.

  “Yep,” he responds and hands me the backpack I brought. Ryan puts on the quiver then slides the sword into a sheath.

  “Alright.” Ryan nods his head, perhaps encouraging himself, then he starts through the forest, Shiver and me at his side.

  Our footsteps are silent except for the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of dirt.

  “How come your quiver is green?” I ask.

  “It’s made from some kind of strong leaf that’s super sticky.”

  “Do you know what’s in the pack?”

  “Water, food, and two fur coats,” Ryan lists automatically.

  “Oh.” We continue to hike in silence. A silence that starts to eat at me. So I ask, “Is something wrong?”

  Ryan stops and looks at me. The look on his face makes my breath catch in my chest.

  “I know you promised Darklily that you’d help her, but did you ever think that maybe we shouldn’t be doing this?” Ryan asks.

  This isn’t what I expected him to say and I stumble over how to answer. Before I can say anything, Cuven steps in our path.

  “You’re okay!” I exclaim.

  “Of course I am,” he growls. “I need you guys to listen closely. Whatever you do, do not attack Medusa or Xavier directly. I have trained you well but they are experienced killers and it would take them only seconds to kill you both. If you’re going to put an end to this war you need to disable their army.”

  “How?” Ryan asks.

  Cuven flicks his tail irritably. “You’ll have to figure that part out yourself. You need to move quickly. If Medusa finds out what you’re up to she’ll make sure to put an end to it.” Cuven dips his head to us then ducks back into the shadows.

  * * * *

  The section of mountain that we cross isn’t as high or as extensive as the segment Trevor, Shiver, and I had traversed weeks ago, so it only takes us a day and half the night. When we get closer to the snowy terrain Ryan stops and pulls out a coat from the backpack. It is made entirely of rich brown fur. He hands the other one to me.

  The coat is made of five pieces, reaching down to just below his hip. The ends of the coat and sleeves are uneven in places. I look at one of the sleeves more closely. The fur pieces are firmly fused together so it is very difficult to tell where one piece ends and another begins. Ryan turns a sleeve inside out.

  “Ah, useful on so many levels,” he says.

  The nameless sticky leaves are holding the fur pieces together. Testing the leaves’ strength I tug the ends in opposite directions. They don’t budge.

  “Are you warm?”

  “Yes. Parts of the inside are double furred. You should put yours on.”

  “Uh . . . have you wondered which animals these were made out of?” I’m not ecstatic to put on a coat made of some animal’s fur that was cleaned by some other animal, even if it will keep me warm.

  “Probably bear,” Shiver says. “Do I get one?”

  Ryan digs around in the backpack but comes up emptyhanded. “Doesn’t look like you do.”

  “Last time she kept warm in my fur. When it gets colder I can just shift and keep you warm, Shiver.”

  “Okay,” she chirps.

  “Don’t over think and just slip it on,” Ryan says.

  With reservation I slip the coat over my head. It is very warm and soft, but that doesn’t alleviate my uncertainty.

  * * * *

  I stare up at the packed snow above us, Ryan’s gentle breathing barely audible. If it weren’t for my heightened hearing I don’t think I’d be able to hear him at all. Shiver is curled next to him, snoring softly.

  I’d shifted into a polar bear hours earlier and constructed a den with Ryan’s help. It’s probably the sloppiest igloo ever, but it hasn’t caved in on us yet so it doesn’t matter.

  Our igloo isn’t very big so we are only inches apart from each other. I can feel the heat emanating from Ryan even through his jacket, my own being off. I’ve been making assumptions about what kind of fur our coats might be made out of, if only to keep my mind entertained on something besides my haunting dream.

  Terrified I had lurched awake—shaking with fear because I’d seen my father dead, again. It is safe to say that I’m totally petrified. To dream about it once is fine but to keep dreaming about it? It’s really starting to get to me. My thoughts churn until this cave suddenly seems too small and stuffy. We’ve made a small opening to let in fresh air, but I tear through it to get outside. The biting cold has a relieving effect on my brain and slowly my nerves start to settle. I can see faint light north of us. Sunrise. I reach into our cave, grab my coat and sit in the freezing snow. I watch the sun rise higher up, letting the assurance of knowing it will always rise, comfort and lull the dream away from me.

  I feel Ryan’s presence before I see him. I have cleared away pounds of snow to find hard earth underneath. And against all common sense I tried to start a fire. The meat that had been packed for us has grown rock hard, taking forever to thaw or chew or even break away from another piece.

  “Nothing?” he asks, sliding down into the hole and crouching next to me.

  I throw the sticks over my shoulder and climb out of the depression; Ryan stands. “It was destined to fail from the start.”

  “At least you tried.”

  “And what good is that doing us?” Ryan opens his mouth, but I cut him off, “Don’t answer that. I don’t want some wise, encouraging answer.”

  Ryan chuckles. “I was only going to say that it takes a lot of determination to do something just because you hope it will work. Even if you know it won’t.”

  “That is exactly the kind of answer I told you not to give.”

  He smiles. “Let's wake Shiver and get out of here.”

  Ryan reaches his hand toward me. For me to hold . . . I can’t help holding my breath. I take it, a small, strange smile passes across his lips before he begins leading me away, his hand as cold as mine.

  I can very faintly hear the hushed gurgle of flowing water. We’re at the edge of a lake, though it’s hard to tell. Snow has completely covered the top. If it weren’t for a nearby icing over hole we stumbled across, we never even would’ve known there was a lake beneath our feet. Ryan jabs his sword down and there’s a splintering thud. The snow isn’t very deep but the ice sounds extremely thick. Ryan shrugs and walks a ways onto the ice. Except for a few creaks the ice is silent.

  “Well if it can hold you it can hold me,” I joke.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  I tip my head. “But you did.”

  Ryan laughs then says, “We should steer clear of the middle.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It could be—” Ryan realizes that I’m teasing and stops. He bends over, clumps up a lot of snow and throws it at me. I’m out of the way even before it has left his hand. Shiver squeals as it grazes across her back, leaving clumps on her fur.

  “Whoops. Sorry Shiver.”

  “That’s cooold!” she cries, hopping around.

  “Nice throw, but you forgot that I have the swiftness and flexibility of an animal. Which means—”

  A snowball strikes my shoulder and snow sprays across my face.

  “Ryan! That was cold!” I grab a bunch of snow and throw it at him. It falls short and lands a few feet in front of him.

  “Didn’t Cuven teach you to throw better?” Ryan taunts.

  Polar bear. I turn around and start shoveling snow towards Ryan. I hear him sputter before yelling; “Alright I surrender!”

  I stop digging, Lissa, I tu
rn and give him a satisfied smirk, wiping my hands I say, “Was that better?”

  Ryan comes closer. “You had an unfair advantage.”

  “So do you. You have a stronger arm and better throwing skills.”

  “So true,” Shiver agrees.

  “Thank you.” Ryan curls his arm to show his muscles, but the coat hinders me from seeing anything. I laugh.

  “Well I’m sure you saw plenty of my muscle in our training sessions,” he revises.

  I frown with pretend confusion. “I’m sure I would have. If I had taken the time to observe your arm muscles during our training,” I add after a pause.

  Ryan snorts and we move on.

  It turns out that we can’t avoid the middle of the lake. A deep, wide stream runs on either side of the lake, which makes it more dangerous to go around. Flowing water means thinner ice. So instead we carefully pick a spot between the middle and the mouths of the stream. Ryan insists that I cross first. I’m fine until I’m halfway across, then the ice starts making shattering sounds and I move faster. That was close. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Shiver hops across next. Ryan moves a couple feet away from the path I’d taken and makes his way over.

  “Lissa catch.” Ryan tosses his bow, the sword and the quiver.

  I catch the bow but the sword and quiver land in the snow. A few of the arrows fall and when I reach for one I see the faint outline of a print. I lean over to examine it. I frown. It looks like the print of a cat. A very large cat. I wonder—

  A sharp yell cuts off my thoughts. I spin around just as Ryan is disappearing into a hole in the ice. Shiver lets out a cry of distress and races over to the hole. My jaw drops and for a second I’m frozen in place before throwing off the backpack and racing toward the hole. Polar bear. I grab a breath as I leap and dive into the water, ice crashing around me. I blink rapidly until my vision clears then look around. The lake is so large I can’t see either side of it or the bottom, just swirling murky water. Nothing. No!

  The current isn’t strong and I let it carry me downstream while pressing forward with strong paddles. Where is he? The lake narrows until I can see the rocky, branch-strewn bottom and silt-covered sides.

  There! His jacket is snagged on a log wedged between two rocks. I furiously kick out toward him. Grabbing as much of his coat in my jaws as I can I yank it away, there’s a muffled rip as it comes free. I let out a bunch of bubbles when I see that Ryan isn’t in it. The coat swirls away with the current. Panic growing, I let the current carry me again, taking care not to hit any of the boulders. I’m running out of oxygen.

  Ryan! I catch a glimpse of his figure. It takes every ounce of strength I have to kick out toward him. His leg is caught between two large rocks. Bubbles escape from his mouth and he stops struggling to free himself. No. My own supply of air and strength is rapidly dwindling. I stop myself on the boulder behind him. I swim down so I am between the two boulders. With all my strength I shove my shoulder against the boulder. The rock sluggishly moves and I push harder. Ryan comes free and the current tries to take him but I make a wild grab and latch my teeth onto his boot.

  I strike out for the shallower water. Holding Ryan’s shirt between my jaws I place my back paws firmly on the bank and I ram my shoulders into the ice with as much force as I can. My lungs start burning with the need for air. I smack the ice again, then again. A satisfying crack reverberates above me. I lug Ryan up half way; gulping in a lungful of precious air before I enlarge the hole and lift myself out. I carefully drag Ryan onto shore. Lissa.

  “Ryan!”

  No response. No! I take in his painfully blue lips and pale skin. The water must’ve been really cold—my fur was so thick I barely felt a chill. I put my hands on his chest then pump three times, hoping I’m doing this correctly.

  “Ryan!” I yell.

  I flutter my eyes closed, drawing in my reserves of strength. I part Ryan’s mouth and put mine up to his, a jolt goes through me but I don’t back off. I breathe out; angling my eyes so I can make sure his chest rises. It does. Whew. I put my hands on his chest again. Pump, pump, pump. Again I breathe into him, and again I pump on his chest. I’m about to give him another breath when Ryan takes a massive, choking gulp of air. Gently I roll him onto his side.

  “Ryan?”

  “Lissa!” Shiver yells fearfully.

  Shiver. I stand up and look around for her. Far off I spy her bouncing around in the snow. The snow is about as high as my knees which means it’s well over her head—her head just reaches the middle of my shin.

  I take a step in her direction but the sound of Ryan coughing up water stops me. I look back at him. His eyes don’t open and he starts shivering uncontrollably. I kneel down next to him.

  “Open your eyes! Look at me!” I shout desperately. Nothing. I grit my teeth and hit the snow. I look back to where I saw Shiver. She’s not bouncing around anymore so I can’t see her. Grr. I feel torn. I can’t leave Ryan or he might freeze to death, but Shiver is so tiny and she could freeze too. Ryan is in more danger, I tell myself, but this doesn’t keep from feeling guilty about taking care of him before taking care of Shiver. Polar bear. You’re not dying on me Ryan. I refuse to let him.

  “Shiver I’m over here!” I yell while I try to pull Ryan onto my shoulders. Scanning the wintry wilderness I fix my gaze on a rocky outcrop and lumber toward it.

  I cautiously slide Ryan off my shoulders and place him in the cave. I stare numbly at his violently shivering body before firmly shaking my head. Lissa. Heat. He needs heat. I shed my coat and with difficulty begin putting it on him. No, dummy, he can’t warm with a soaking shirt on. Right. I pull the jacket back off and grab the corners of Ryan’s shirt. Sucking in a breath, I hesitate. Ryan lets out a hacking cough. I brace myself then hurriedly take his shirt off, rapidly tugging on the jacket afterwards. Polar bear. I spoon out any snow lying in the small cave-like structure then I race to the nearest tree.

  I hear Shiver call out again as I snatch up branches off the ground and carry them back in my mouth. When I have a good stack I stop. I don’t know whether it will work or not but I have to try. I don’t have a specific image of a dragon, but hopefully a shady picture will do. Dragon. At first my body doesn’t move, as if it doesn’t know how to shape itself. But I focus harder and slowly it takes shape. I suck in a breath then let it out on the pile of sticks. Weak fire pours on them and they don’t light. I try again. Little flames flicker feebly before being extinguished. I try five more times, desperation building; I let out a massive roar of fury that causes the structure to tremble when my sixth attempt fails. Lissa.

  Stomping over to Ryan I listen closely to his breathing; super shallow breaths on my ear. I carefully move Ryan up against the far wall then leave. Wolf. Snow is starting to fall and the wind has picked up.

  “Shiver!”

  At first there’s no answer but when I call again there’s a small squeak. I find her huddled close to Ryan’s weapons and the backpack, which she has stacked together.

  “I was afraid you might have left me,” she whimpers.

  Lissa. I pick her up and hug her. She’s trembling. “I would never leave you.”

  Her little claws dig into my skin and her tail circles my waist. “My mom got killed by a horrid giant monster. I was too scared to come out of my nest for days.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. It’s painful enough to have your parents suddenly leave—I can’t imagine having them be killed by an animal.

  She pulls back and looks at my face. “I like being with you and I’m really glad I have you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here too.” I bend down to pick up the, backpack, quiver, bow, and sword then hastily make my way back to the cave, feeling chilled to the bone.

  Shiver stares at Ryan solemnly. “Will he be okay?”

  “Of course,” I say, unwilling to let myself think he might not be. I set his weapons against the wall then shift. Wolf. I carefully lay as much of myself as I can on top of him. Shiver c
uddles up to his neck. An eerie, blustery wind whistles around the outcrop, bringing with it flurries of blinding snow, veiling us from the outside. Don’t go. You can’t, I plead to him in my head, my eyes flickering over his deathly pale boyish face.

  * * * *

  I jerk awake and stare around wildly before realizing where I am. My shoulders slump with relief. I roll toward Ryan. Cautiously I run my hand down his face, ready to jerk it back if he wakes. His skin is so cold, but so soft. I yank my hand away when Ryan slightly turns toward me, his eyelids fluttering open. He frowns in confusion before recognition settles on his face. I watch him anxiously as he gazes around.

  After I’d woken up with a nightmare the second time I stopped trying to sleep and instead I sat next to the fire—I’d finally been able to start one—, drying Ryan’s shirt until sleep finally overcame me.

  “I fell through the ice,” he mumbles. I pull myself up and move away.

  “Yes. But you’re fine now.”

  Things I could tease him with tumble through my head, but never leave my mouth. Ryan’s eyes flutter closed again and soon he is back asleep. I panic and vigilantly watch his chest rise and fall several times. When I’m positive he isn’t going to die on me, I move away.

  “How come he won’t stay awake?” Shiver asks.

  “His body is just recovering from the cold. That’s all,” I say simply. I bite my lip though. I wish he would wake up. I want to ask him if he’s warm enough—give him something to eat.

  The coat Ryan is wearing is becoming shabby and dirty. It had dried fairly quickly but it seems to have taken a toll on the fur. To dry Ryan’s pants, not daring to take them off, I had held a burning branch as close to them as possible.

  Hours pass, and then two days pass. All Ryan does is sleep, but not always peacefully. Sometimes he cries out in pain—that always gets my heart racing— occasionally, in various ways, he’ll say in a perturbed voice, “No! Wait! I didn’t mean to! I swear!” It breaks my heart every time.

  Numerous times I’ve attempted to wake him: yelling his name, shaking him, but he never woke. I did find out that if I run my hand along his cheek about ten times he would quiet down. This certain action has got me curious. The soothing affect seems to have taken place before; his mind has grown accustomed to calming down if it is done. Did an old girlfriend used to run her fingers along his cheek or his mother? I bug myself with these questions on nights that I find myself staring up at the gray stone roof.