Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Jason Paul Rice

  The blue sparks jumping off the intersected roots gave Mike an uneasy feeling. The peryton flew close to the grid of roots and dove through a large opening.

  Suddenly, Mike was surrounded by swirling sparks of blue energy as the peryton streaked through the madness. It was like he was caught in the middle of a storm cloud and couldn’t escape. The air pressure ratcheted up and the air became much denser.

  The pressure started to squeeze his head like a vise. Just when the stress became almost unbearable, the peryton zipped into the night sky void of any electric storms. The stars provided enough light so that Mike could locate Alayna and Blodeuwedd again. They seemed to be flying straight toward the moon.

  Mike didn’t understand the scientific principles of the underground world, but he was enjoying it.

  A strange cloud appeared in front of Mike and Redridge. It looked like radar footage of a hurricane. The swirling white mass seemed to be pulling them in. The peryton barreled directly into the vortex.

  Complete darkness.

  Mike felt like his body was being pulled in all different directions. He tried to fight it, only making matters worse. He couldn’t feel the peryton anymore as he was trashed around the vortex. A bright blue flashed, nearly blinding Mike.

  When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a plush green valley of rosebushes. Two steep mountains flanked the valley.

  Alayna’s voice made him jump. “Are you ready?”

  He whirled around to find her smiling. “What happened to Redridge and Annabelle?”

  “They took us to where we needed to go and went back to the Deep Burrow.”

  “Can they go to earth? I mean, my world?”

  Alayna led him through the dark valley and ignored his question. “Oh, Mike, there is a growing problem in the world right now. There are a few different underworlds out there similar to this one. However, their purposes are very different. In some of these worlds, good and evil have been reversed. Villains believe themselves to be heroes.”

  “How?”

  “Not sure, really. Differing opinions, some would say. Sometimes, it derives from jealousy, and then the people rationalize it. After some time, it becomes an accepted practice as it’s been normalized. Anyway, the problem we’ve run into lately is that some of these evil underworlds are sending their minions to the surface of the earth to wreak havoc.”

  “Why?”

  “Probably to cause trouble. For attention, maybe. I can’t say for sure, but they want something and they are infiltrating your world. That’s why we need to get you trained, so we can weed out any problems that sprout from these worlds. As amazing as it is to see these peaceful creatures in this world, it can be terrifying to see the malevolent monsters, some the size of a school bus, in a city setting. A strange wave of paranormal events unlike any the world has ever seen has been on the uprise in the past few years, and I believe it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

  A warm breeze rolled through the chilly valley and provided a slight blanket of warmth. They followed a line of torches to a great opening in the base of the red rock mountain on their right.

  The seductive strumming of a stringed instrument accompanied by soft singing echoed out of the opening. Mike’s legs almost gave out as he followed Alayna into a fire-lit cave. They entered a huge hole that expanded greatly to expose a massive room.

  Mike counted fourteen torches around the room, and four people, not including Alayna, Blodeuwedd and himself. Mike scanned the room. There were long stone slab benches, two cauldrons, several individual wooden chairs and a round table in the middle of the room. The two enormous cauldrons sat at the top. Abstract nature scenes had been chiseled into the walls and were highlighted with vivid color.

  As he took all this in, a woman approached the bench with the cauldrons and a young man with shaggy blond hair who had paused at their entrance resumed playing a lyre. Mike’s eyes were drawn to an older man with antlers coming from his head and birds peeping from his grandiose beard, and a shorter man who appeared to be all muscle. The Gods were much taller than most of the people he had seen in the Deep Burrow.

  Alayna whispered. “This is one of the gathering places of the Gods. I brought a few people together to explain some things to you. Don’t be intimidated. They don’t like people to be in awe and drop to their knees in deference. They just want to share in the world with you and learn from your experience.”

  Alayna and Blodeuwedd sat down around the table and urged Mike to join them. His heart was pumping out of control, and his mouth had run completely dry. Mike sat betwixt the two women.

  Alayna leaned closer to him and pointed to the woman stirring the cauldrons. The woman had dark-hair and wore a loose red dress that shimmered in the firelight. She danced back and forth between both cauldrons holding a golden stirrer that would have rivaled a boat oar.

  Alayna whispered, “That’s Cerridwen. She won’t come over, as she needs to tend to her concoctions.”

  The powerful aroma of sage and rosemary flooded the open cave before filtering out into the night sky. The antlered man stopped sharpening his long knife and made a grunting sound.

  The skinny young man put down the lyre and turned his attention to Alayna. “You’re right, he does look like Lance.” He came over and sat at the table.

  “Told you,” Alayna gloated.

  The muscled man set down the boulder he had been exercising with. Cerridwen stood with her back to the table and attentively stirred one of the cauldrons slowly.

  Mike waited. Nervously. His eyes darted around the table. He waited for Alayna or Blodeuwedd to introduce him to the Gods. What was he supposed to do? Blurt out, ‘Hi, I’m Mike. How you doin’?’

  A few more anxious seconds that felt like hours to Mike went by.

  Alayna finally said, “I wanted to thank all of you for your grace and compassion, and willingness to help out a new student. This is Mike.”

  Mike stood up and bowed. He had no idea why he had done that. The male Gods smirked at Mike and made eye contact with each other.

  The young man seemed to defer to the elder, who spoke in a booming tone. “Micheal. I am Cernunnos. Most refer to me as the Lord of the Wild Things. I look after the animals of the world and their spirits in other worlds.” The horned God wore silver robes, and his dark beard and hair were streaked with wise notes of graying. Several unidentified baby birds kept poking out of his beard as he continually fed them sunflower seeds.

  Mike leaned closer to the table.

  Cernunnos continued, “A thirst to learn is one that needs quenching. We will help you along this journey, but you will be the one who determines your ultimate outcome. A coach can take an athlete only so far.” The God stopped and smiled, confusing Mike. “I see you keep peeking over at him, Cerridwen, so we might as well get the introductions over with now. Cerridwen is antisocial and won’t come over to say hi.” He said the last sentence loud enough for Cerridwen to easily hear him, and laughed heartily.

  Mike didn’t think it was very funny, but he joined the rest of the table with a forced chuckle.

  The young man said, “I am Mabon, the Young Son of Light. I seem to keep my youth as the years go on.” He rubbed his smooth chin, and Mike noticed his fair face was unwrinkled. “I am the God of unity and music, which go hand in hand, if you really think about it. I also dabble in cosmology. Did you see my telescope outside the cave?” The man spoke with the youthful exuberance of a teenager, almost bragging about a new toy.

  Mike responded, “That’s what that was. I thought so, but it looked out of place given the overall setting. That was some pretty good music you were playing earlier.” Mike had no clue why he said that other than pure nervousness.

  The God rubbed the three blond whiskers on his chin. “Much appreciated, my good man. Ah yes, fiddling away on my lyre. Not to worry, there’s no fire to speak of.”

  Mike smiled, understanding the vague reference. “Do you know whether Nero fiddled during the great fire of Rome?�
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  Mabon turned to Alayna. “He’s a sharp one, too.” He looked back at Mike. “As for Nero, the story is twisted.”

  Cernunnos cut him off. “Don’t you think we should let this young man learn on his own?”

  Mabon shook his head rapidly, seemingly annoyed. He spoke like a pissed-off teen. “This is learning. This information isn’t in the history books, and the accusation has been debated strongly on both sides. Also, this is allowing him to learn about a subject he showed interest in. Would you rather have him go home and look it up on the internet?”

  Cernunnos spoke like a calm father about to blow his top. “Enough with the dramatics. Tell your story already.”

  The smile of a child getting his or her way spread over Mabon’s face and he turned back to Mike. “He was playing music when the fire started, and he stopped once the word of the fire had reached him. Whether he had started the fire in the first place is up for another debate and, unfortunately, I don’t know the true answer to that one. Even if Nero wasn’t responsible, it doesn’t excuse the myriad of duplicitous stunts he carried out in his day.”

  Mike said softly, “Sorry. I forgot you guys don’t care much for the Romans.”

  “Not I,” said Mabon.

  Cernunnos chimed in, “Nor I. None of us, really. The mortals tend to hold a grudge and pass it down to the next generation. A few thousand years tends to mellow one’s soul out a bit. Live and let live. Forgive and forget. Love and let love.” He turned to Blodeuwedd. “Isn’t that how it goes?”

  The owl-shifting Goddess giggled, and responded, “Something like that. Close enough for now.”

  Mike couldn’t believe how cool the Gods and Goddesses were and planned to sit quietly and take in as much information as he could. And just like that, Mike’s tongue went rogue again as he stared in awe at the youthful God. “How do you stay so young?”

  Mabon said, “Our mutual friend, Merlin, imbued me with a silent spell that somehow has stopped my aging. I wish I were strong though, like this beast here.” He pointed at the muscular God to his right.

  The God pulled his hood down, exposing a head of close-cropped red hair and freckled red cheeks. He smoked a pipe that smelled like cloves and pinecones. His tight white cloak was cut in a way that revealed his massive chest and shoulders. “My name is The Dagda. I am the God of Wisdom and Power. I’m really not as special as Mabon makes me out.”

  “I have to admit, I thought you all would speak in an ancient language or sound differently. I didn’t expect jokes and to feel so comfortable around you. I mean, I’m still shaking from the excitement.” Mike held his wobbly right hand out for everyone to see.

  The Dagda cleared his throat and spoke in a soft tone, unbecoming of his physical stature, but his voice captured the room’s attention. “Many people see Gods and Goddesses as unapproachable and intimidating. Once someone gets past the awe, we adapt to each person we are talking to. We have extensive knowledge of languages and different dialects within those languages. I could talk to Plato in his most familiar tongue one minute, and the next I could talk to you and sound like a person from your neighborhood. There has also been so much material written about the Gods and Goddesses throughout history that you must be careful. Even some of the most accepted stories about us aren’t true. Be careful who you listen to.”

  Cernunnos tossed a sunflower seed toward his beard, and a baby robin poked out and snatched the treat out of mid-air. “I’ve often met mortals that tell me I don’t look how they expected me to. And all I can say is, sorry for letting you down.” He laughed and gently thumbed the top of the fledgling’s head.

  The Dagda said, “I believe we should allow our female counterpart to go first.”

  “Thank you,” Blodeuwedd said. “When thinking of magic and its properties, we look no farther than nature. I’m going to talk to you about plant magic. That doesn’t mean you are going to assemble an army of ferns and flowers to help. Most magic is in plain view, yet most people don’t understand that.”

  A winged cherub flew around the table with a round of drinks in silver chalices. The nude boy set a drink in front of each person at the table before flying out of the cave.

  Blodeuwedd continued, “Plants are different from trees and animals. Plants live much shorter lives. A plant lives in the here and now. Sometimes they only bloom for a single season. They have to fight the elements of nature and adapt over time, but a plant teaches us about the ability of magic. You can use the buds and flowers of plants to make potions, elixirs and creams. Turn them into candles that you can use for special spells, conjuring or invocations. Once you learn about the properties and healing effects of one plant, you can combine herbs and plants to create the desired outcome.”

  Mike took a drink of what tasted like red wine heavily fortified with cinnamon. He had become intoxicated by the unparalleled allure and flowery fragrance emanating from the Goddess. Her emerald eyes, fringed with sweeping purple eyelashes, twinkled in the firelight and acted like a magnet for Mike’s attention.

  Blodeuwedd scratched her nose and went on with her lesson. “Plants are great friends of the physician. They are the main source of healing pills and have helped to cure many different medical conditions. It will seem like magic until you fully understand the properties of a plant and the effects that they can carry. One must be overwhelmingly careful with regards to what plant ingredients one is mixing. It is much easier to make poison than a healing agent. It’s even easier to use that poison for malicious intent. That would be considered dark magic. However, if you keep it all sorted properly, it’s just like a mixed alcoholic drink. If you add the right quantities together, your drink will taste good, and your pill will cure whatever ailment plagues you.”

  The Dagda said, “I believe this is where I come in. I will teach you about another great source to use when you want to tap into magic. What is a tree?”

  Mike shrugged his shoulders with a quizzical look on his face. “They are big. Strong, I guess.”

  The Dagda smiled. “Two good guesses. A tree is the sum of all trees that came before it. It carries the knowledge from hundreds of thousands of years. Before the dinosaurs roamed this earth, trees existed. They survived an event that the mighty dinosaurs couldn’t. Why?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The Dagda took a sip of his wine. “Adaptation. The dinosaurs couldn’t do this. The food they needed was suddenly gone. Trees lived on because their support systems were underground. The roots lived on, and more trees eventually sprouted back up. It was a rebirth. A renaissance, if you will. They studied the new conditions of the earth and figured out how to survive.”

  “I guess they did, huh?” Mike hadn’t realized he had spoken.

  The Dagda didn’t answer his question but continued with his story. “Now you have to tap into that knowledge. They connect us to all worlds. Their roots go underground and to the underworlds, and also stretch into the ocean. Their branches reach into the sky. They are also the storytellers of the earth. They know all the secrets as they have seen it all. They have thousands of years of wisdom.” He turned to Alayna. “Make sure he reads The Battle of the Trees.”

  Cerridwen coughed from her cauldrons. Mike realized she was clearing her throat in an attempt to make a point.

  The Dagda stared at her, and said, “It’s a wonderful story by a wonderful author who must have had a wonderful mother.”

  Cerridwen laughed and went back to stirring.

  Alayna leaned closer to Mike, and said, “I’ll have to give you that story to read, too. It was written by her son.”

  The Dagda blew his nose into a handkerchief and lay it on the table. “That is the original smother, right there.” He pointed to the cauldrons. “Where was I? Ah, yes. You may never assemble an army of trees but that’s not the point. Each tree has different structures and properties. Once you learn those specifics, you can assemble an army consisting of complementing items. In The Battle of the Trees, each tree provided a diffe
rent skill, if you will. Much like infantry complements the cavalry and they are in turn complimented by the archers or snipers.”

  “I see.”

  The Dagda rubbed his long orange goatee and smirked. “Good. Many people hear just the title of that story and they think the magic is forcing trees to fight your battles. The true message, at least the one I take from it, is when going into battle, form an army of warriors that complement each other. An army full of simple strongmen is destined to lose to an organized bunch of learned folk. You don’t just take an army of the biggest trees. Once you study these trees, you will find some that you hold dear to your heart. Your experience will determine which trees are unique and special to you and no one else. Then, when you develop a relationship with that living organism, you ask to borrow a branch to craft a wand. Only then will it have true power.”

  Everyone turned his or her attention to Cernunnos, who was feeding himself and his birds sun-dried blueberries. He shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, I’ve heard him ramble on with that story so many times, I drifted away. I suppose you want to know about animals, too?”

  Chapter 21

  MIKE NODDED IN SILENCE, and Cernunnos set a handful of the sun-dried blueberries on the table. The God pushed the baby birds back into the depths of his bearded nest. “Much like trees, animals carry a long history that can be used when we think about the changes certain species have gone through to survive. Most people want to jump right into animal shifting and don’t realize that requires combining two types of magic. Don’t be overwhelmed. It isn’t exponentially difficult. Magic is just like building blocks. Once you learn the basics of magic, combining two forms is simple. But you need those basics to build bigger acts of magic.”

  He picked up his silver chalice and downed most of the liquid, spilling some onto his wild beard. “I ask the people who want to shift right away, how well do they know the animal they want to become? Do you know its history? Its tendencies? How about its spirit or soul? I tell them to think about the thousands of years of development that animal has gone through. The experiences. The knowledge that animal has gained. That’s the true magic. Connecting to these animals brings us closer to nature and the elements.”