“Sky,” I whisper and nudge her, “It will be fine. Everything will work out. It has to. We have to save the world, after all, and we can’t do that if anything happens to us now.”
“Do you really think so?” she asks. The wave ebbs a little, but she’s still fearful. “I keep thinking about what Vega said about risking our lives. Why would they take us along if that’s true? Don’t they need us?”
“He didn’t actually say we would be in danger. He asked if we would still volunteer if we knew our lives were at risk.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asks, though I feel the anxiety lessen.
“Not really,” I answer. “I think he was testing our resolve by that statement.” I hope I’m right.
THIRTY-THREE
The alarm rings and Storm jumps up, startling us. Pax stretches and sits up more slowly. “Show time,” he says, and his voice is calm. How does he do that? I’m already trembling from head to foot.
We put on jackets and shoes and head for the front door. Pax disarms the house alarm system, waits for us to get outside, re-arms it and joins us. We go to the side of the house away from Coral and Dylan’s room and wait.
I shiver. The heat of early autumn days in North Carolina doesn’t hint at how chilly the nights get. Heavy cloud cover blocks the moon and obscures the sky where I can usually see the Sentinels. When my eyes adjust to the dark, the life-force glow of millions of tiny critters casts a carpet of pale light over the grass in front of us. I see owls shining in the woods, and the light of a large cat slinks toward the deer that I can see as clearly as the cat does.
There, the ship hovers near the woods. “Follow me,” I say and take the lead. Sky hangs on to my jacket, staying close with the boys right behind her.
Vega’s glow outshines all the creatures in the woods. He’s magnificent, like a tall, clothed statue of David. I feel my insides slowly melt. He hasn’t spoken yet, so there’s something other than his voice that holds power over me; that draws me like a moth to flame. That image jolts me out of it. If I think of him as a spider catching his supper in a web, I’ll be less likely to be the supper. I realize Sky is feeling the same attraction.
“Snap out of it, Sky,” I whisper, swatting at her. She drops back and I feel a wave of indignation. I also feel her strong emotions fade.
“Come, Star Children,” Vega’s voice has a commanding tone and we hurry to reach him. The light from the ship’s portal momentarily blinds me, but I recover once we’re inside the vessel. He leads us to the same room we were in before and instructs us to sit. I wonder who’s piloting the ship.
The scene that surrounds us is a desert plain that sweeps up to craggy peaks bathed in the last rays of sunset, backed by a purple sky. The shape of the mountain resembles the broken-off teeth of a giant human mandible. Where the orange-red rays of the sun hit, the ‘teeth’ stand out, jagged and sharp; I’m struck by the harsh beauty before me.
“Superstition Mountain, in Arizona,” Vega announces. “We will be there shortly.”
Storm is impatient and asks, “When do we start moving?”
Vega laughs, and Storm and Pax both stiffen in their seats. “We’re more than half-way there,” he says. “Our propulsion system is silent, and there is no air friction because the skin of our ship produces an energy field that slips through both air and water without resistance.”
“I’ve heard there are legends about that mountain; something about a gold mine and a hole to the underworld.” I remember reading about it a few years ago.
“Yes,” Vega says. “The Dracans have lived in a city underneath the mountain for eons, and the Apache who settled in that part of the country were aware of their comings and goings. The humans believed the entrance to the underground city was an opening to the netherworld, which, in a sense, it is. They considered it holy ground.
“Later, when settlers came from the east, an explorer entered one of their mine tunnels and found a storage room of Dracan gold. He was discovered, but escaped to tell others about the mine. He refused to divulge its location and never returned himself, but his tale led to an invasion of prospectors that ended when many disappeared. Thus the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine was born. Even today, the Apache say that the Thunder God protects the mine and avoid the area.”
“That’s all very interesting,” Storm interrupts, “but what can we expect when we get there? Do you have a plan to rescue my family, and what can we do to help?”
“Yes,” Vega answers. “My apologies, Storm. I know you are worried about them. We have some allies among the Dracans; those who believe what we have told them about the artifacts. They have lived on this planet long enough to consider it their home and do not wish to see it destroyed. It is in their best interest to aid us. They will meet us at the mountain with Sequoia and Wolf. The time may come when we will have further need of their assistance, and they ours, particularly if they are discovered.”
Sky sounds relieved when she asks, “Does that mean we won’t have to risk our lives?”
“Not this time, Little One.” I expect an indignant backlash from Sky at the name, but she remains calm and happy.
“We have arrived,” Vega announces, and we move to the portal room. He exits first and we wait until he calls us.
Storm rocks from foot to foot because there isn’t room enough to pace. I understand his nervous energy, but wish he’d stay still while we’re crowded in here. No one speaks until we hear Vega’s call, and Storm immediately steps into the light and disappears through the portal. Pax goes next, followed by Sky and finally me.
The desert is pitch-black outside of the portal light. Unlike in the meadows around our houses in North Carolina, the wildlife here is too scattered to illuminate anything. I feel a bit disoriented until I look up. A dome of stars covers the sky from horizon to horizon; billions upon billions of stars and galaxies are visible and sparkling. The Milky Way stretches like a highway to heaven and I remember Vega’s comparison of galaxies to cells. How infinitesimally small we are.
Shapes materialize out of the desert, two standing upright and two on floating stretchers. The Dracans are more imposing than I remember; taller and more muscular. Their eyes glow green until they enter the light and I see that they’re yellow with vertical pupils, like cat eyes, and the skin on their faces and hands is scaled. I can’t see what color they are in the darkness, but I do see that they have no auras.
The stretchers gently float to the ground and Storm rushes over to touch his aunt and uncle.
“Sequoia? Wolf?” he calls their names but they don’t answer. He turns to the tallest Dracan and demands, “What have you done to them?”
“They are in stasis, young Storm. No harm has befallen them.” His voice is deep and both guttural and sibilant, and he exposes rows of sharp teeth as he speaks. I wonder how he knows Storm’s name. Does he know ours, too?
Vega instructs Storm, “Float them to the portal and we will take them home.” We follow the stretchers and Vega stays behind to speak to the Dracans. The door to the viewing room is open when we enter the ship. Storm floats his aunt and uncle in and lowers them to the floor. They appear to be sleeping peacefully. Pax checks their pulse and nods. Sky sinks to the floor between them and lays a hand on each of their heads, and I feel the peace and love she’s sending them.
When Vega returns, the view switches back to the Fletchers’ house, dark and silent. Then it changes to Storm’s cabin and we see the porch light is on.
“We will see that Sequoia and Wolf are returned to their bed,” Vega assures us. “They will remember nothing. It is your choice whether to tell them that they were abducted, or not. We do not know what they experienced among the Dracans. I am sorry, but they told me nothing.”
Storm stands and faces Vega. “Thank you, Vega, and the crew of this ship. I won’t forget this.”
“No gratitude is needed, Storm. If we survive, we will all owe you and your companions a debt of gratitude we will never be able
to repay.”
THIRTY-FOUR
SKY
I sit between Sequoia and Wolf and send them positive energy until we reach their cabin. It seems like the trip took minutes, but I’m so focused on them I can’t be sure. There is no feedback of emotion, so I assume they’re in some kind of coma. I’m unaware that we’ve arrived until Storm puts his hands on my shoulders.
“We’re here, Sky. Thank you.” His touch sends an unexpected current running through me, and his voice, warm and deep, is like hot chocolate and honey to my spirit. He’s dangerous, I remind myself. Besides, I’m pretty sure he likes Jewel. I feel increased intensity in him when she’s around.
But what about the day I was attacked, when Jewel wasn’t there? I shove the thought down and stand up. He floats Wolf’s stretcher to the portal room while we stay with Sequoia. Vega goes with him. A few minutes later, he returns for his aunt.
“I’ll stay here with them,” he says. “Vega will take you back to the Fletchers’ place.”
Pax assures him, “I’ll tell my parents that you got a call that they’re home. They’ll understand why you aren’t there in the morning.”
Seconds after Vega returns he informs us that we’re at our house. I have never felt this tired and can’t wait to get to bed. Pax opens the door, resets the alarm and we stagger to our rooms. Jewel plops down on one side of my bed and I take the other. I remember nothing else until Mom wakes us up.
~~~~~
“Okay, girls.” Her voice is loud enough to wake the dead. I pull my pillow over my ears. She pulls it off. “It’s nearly time for lunch and you all have to eat something. Get up, please.” She leaves and I hear her knock on Pax’s door.
Jewel stretches and yawns loudly beside me. “Do you realize we slept in our clothes?” she asks. “I wonder if your mom noticed.”
“Oh, she noticed,” I tell her. “Nothing gets by Mom. We’ll hear about it over lunch.”
Jewel showers first and by the time I’ve showered and dressed, I’m starving and Jewel is already in the kitchen helping Mom set the table and put the food out.
Pax comes in, unshaven and with his hair still wet from the shower. “Where’s Dad?”
Mom waits until we’re seated. She prays over the food, passes around plates of cheese and sandwich meat and a basket of rolls, and then says, “Wolf called this morning and Dad drove right over. He was surprised to see that Storm was already gone. Do you know anything about that?”
Pax speaks up, “Storm heard they’d returned late last night and went home. I hope they’re alright.”
It isn’t a lie. Hearing is one of the senses, and all of Storm’s senses were engaged in our rescue last night, so he did hear. They did return and he did go home. Pax winks at me. I swear he reads my mind sometimes.
“May I ask why you were all fully dressed when I woke you up this morning?”
Again Pax answers, “We went outside with Storm and saw him off. It was late and we were tired enough to crash when we came back inside.” His answer seems to satisfy her.
“After we eat,” Mom says, “we’ll pack up some food and bring it over to them. I imagine Sequoia won’t want to cook for a while. I wonder where they were.”
Jewel looks like she’s about to say something but I send her a warning nudge. It isn’t exactly mind-speech, but she gets it and turns her attention to her sandwich. We’re getting better at this silent communication, even without her dad’s wristbands.
We listen to Mom chatter while we clean up and pack the food in plastic bags.
“Jewel, your parents are going over. You can ride home with them later. Get your jackets on. It’s cold, windy and wet outside.”
When we get to the porch, the forest is loud with creaking trees whipping back and forth in the wind. Rain comes down in sheets, as if a giant faucet has been opened full-force in the sky above us. Umbrellas are no match for the wind and we throw dripping bags of food into the back of Pax’s SUV. We’re soaked to the skin by the time we climb into the car. He turns up the heat and fights the buffeting wind as we take the curvy road to the cabin.
Getting out of the car into a muddy yard is even more challenging. Lightning strikes nearby and a giant clap of thunder motivates us to hurry into the cabin. Dad comes out dressed in a plastic poncho that nearly trips him up when the wind whips it around his legs. He grabs the food bags from the back of the SUV and runs into the house just as a bolt of lightning hits a tree across the yard.
“That’s enough excitement for me, today,” Jewel announces. I agree with her.
We hang up our jackets and Jewel and I follow Mom into the kitchen where we unpack the bags of food while she goes to hug Sequoia. Pax heads to the living room where Storm and his aunt and uncle are talking with Dad. The front door flies open and Jewel’s drenched parents shake droplets off their jackets and wipe muddy shoes on the welcome mat. Charles picks up a pack he’d set down and goes straight to the living room.
We carry trays into the living room and join the boys on the floor near the wall. Storm feels at peace for once, but I detect an undercurrent of tension rising as Jewel slides down next to Pax. My teeth clench and I move to sit next to Storm. I hope my own tension doesn’t affect him. He’s been through enough. Sequoia and Wolf look none the worse for their ordeal.
Wolf tells the story once everyone has eaten something and Storm has finished his increasingly popular dish dance to the dishwasher. I feel his self-satisfaction and our moms’ admiration and wish I could clean up that way.
“We were going to stock up on supplies in town. All we remember is walking through the yard and then waking up in bed. Everything between is a blank. Storm told us about the search and that the Allarans rescued us from the Dracans.”
Mom gives me a surprised look. I feel her confusion, and shake my head while I push peace toward her. I wonder if Storm mentioned that we went along for the rescue.
Sequoia dispels my concern. “Storm was here when we woke up, thinking nothing had happened. He said he’d been staying at the Fletchers’ house when the Allarans let him know we’d returned. Thank you, Coral and Dylan, for keeping our nephew with you while we were missing.” There are tears in her eyes.
I shoot Storm a grateful look and I’m surprised to find him looking at me intently. Oh, I could so easily get lost in those amber eyes of his. They sparkle with flecks of gold and I can’t tear my gaze away. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t look away either. There’s that strange tension again. I try not to think that what he’s feeling is directed at me. What if I’m wrong and he really likes Jewel? I couldn’t bear it, so I refuse to get my hopes up. It takes effort, but I turn my attention to the adults. Is that disappointment coming from him, or from me?
Charles reaches into a pack and pulls out something that makes my heart speed up. He holds a wristband in his hand and lays it on the coffee table. Is it possible that they’re ready?
THIRTY-FIVE
Charles quickly returns it to the pack when a loud knock interrupts what he was about to say. Storm jumps up to answer it and returns, tailed by Sheriff Green. Is it my imagination or does Storm deliberately brush against my arm and sit closer than before? The brief contact sends delicious shivers through me. Stop, Sky, I tell myself, but my body isn’t listening to me.
Wolf repeats his story to the sheriff, who writes in an official looking notebook.
“When you left the house,” he asks, “did you notice anything in the sky above you? Was there a shadow or any indication that a Dracan ship was around?”
“We didn’t notice anything at all, Sheriff,” Wolf explains. “And we have no recollection of anything that happened after that moment until we woke up here.”
“Are there any marks on you?” Sheriff Green persists. “Do you feel different in any way?”
Sequoia speaks up, “Are you suggesting that they might have experimented on us, Sheriff?”
“I have no idea,” the Sheriff shakes his head, “but we’re dealing with a complet
e unknown here and any information would give us a better picture of what these aliens want.”
We know what they want, I’m thinking, but we don’t know what they did to Storm’s family.
“We have found no marks and we feel fine,” Wolf answers the Sheriff. I see a look in Sequoia’s eyes and feel a wave of anxiety from her that indicates he isn’t telling the whole truth. Why not?
The sheriff’s radio squawks and he gets up and goes to answer it in the kitchen before heading out the front door. The wind seems to have died down and I don’t hear the pounding rain. Charles goes to the window to be sure he’s gone and reaches once more into the pack when he returns to his seat.
“Before I tell you about this wristband, kids, you need to agree that everything we discuss here must stay among us. You cannot breathe one word about this to anyone else, human or otherwise. Do you understand?”
I nod and the boys each say ‘Yes, sir’ aloud. Our folks don’t know that we’ve known about the wristbands since Jewel told me and I spilled the beans to the boys.
Charles continues, “Analiese and I have developed one of these for each of you, including the twins’ parents and Storm’s folks. They will give you the ability to speak telepathically with each other.”
None of the adults are surprised and they all look at us as if they expect us to be.
“They know,” Jewel says.
Charles gives her a look that promises they will discuss this later, and continues, “The way it has worked for us is that we can call Jewel and each other, and she can call either or both of us. It’s a three-way connection that can be activated and deactivated by any one of us at any time.
“Adding you three kids and your folks has made it much more complex. The only way Analiese and I have been able to make it happen is to make the four of you the primary link, and to limit our links to our own kids.”
Terra's Call (TetraSphere Book 1) Page 13
