Thunderbirds & Warlocks - Draca Deity Series - Edition 1
Page 7
Chapter Seven
Most of the Warlocks gave up watching, and had gone back inside the house. There was one who remained, he took a seat on the front porch, with prying eyes on the Amish field, no doubt he was their guard dog. The sun was still strong and the Amish field was a sea of green grass and brilliant wild flowers. Lachy dreaded the thought of the night coming, and worried as he watched the sun, it was hoovering over the horizon, and in a few precious hours, it would be dusk. Lachy slipped off his coat, and set his backpack by his feet. He unzipped it and was relieved he thought to pack Mulish’s Lomey’s sweet sac. He smiled, there were drinks in the back of his bag, and he pulled out a juice box, and took a long gulp, then he pulled out a sweet cake and took an eager bite.
“Do you have it Draculoc?”
“Ferus, where have you been?” Lachy asked, nearly chocking on the sweet cake when he said it. He swallowed it quickly and mulled over his question. “Have what?”
“The stone.”
Alarmed by the question, Lachy reached into his pocket and closed his eyes, and felt something hard scrape against the tip of his finger. “I have it. Now tell me what is it?”
“It is called an amulet. It protects Warlocks from.. me.”
Lachy’s shoulders went up. “Is that why you are here? For the stone?”
There was an exasperated breath that sounded in the back of Lachy's mind. It was unnerving that Ferus could do that. “Of course not, young Draculoc.”
“Ferus?”
“Yes?”
“Will those bad men take me away?”
“Only if you choose to leave with them?”
“I don’t want to go with them.” Lachy said, peeking over to his house, he expected Wison to be flying around, swooping down at him. He didn’t believe for one minute that he gave up, and he refused to let his guard down. “I’m just a kid. How can I stop them?” When Ferus didn’t offer him a response he posed another question. “Ferus?”
“Yes.”
“What ‘am I going to do?”
“Your heart knows all young Draculoc.”
“I’m scared of those bad men.”
“Do not fear.”
“What about my dad? Why is he with them?”
“That is for Horace Wulf to remedy with you.”
Lachy wasn’t happy to hear that response, again. He hadn’t time to talk with his father, and now that his father was with those Warlocks, he doubted he’d ever get to talk to him, alone, again. Then he sat up straight. There was movement by the stairs and his spirits lifted. His father stepped outside and was walking Lachy’s way.
“Dad! Dad!” Lachy cried out. “Over here.”
“How’s it going son?” Horace yelled out, with his hand up.
Lachy put his things away in his bag, and tucked his knees up tightly to his chest, waiting for his father to come closer. “Dad! What’s going on at our house?”
“What are you doing Lachy? You are roasting out here. Look at you?”
“Dad. I’m hiding from the bad men in our house.” Lachy said, scornfully. It wasn’t a very good question, his dad knew very well what those bad men wanted, and his dad saw him nearly get killed by that 18 wheeler. Lachy flicked a look toward the road, and had completely forgotten about it, the truck was gone, there must have been an excellent driver at the wheel.
“You have shamed me son.” His dad said, taking a seat next to the burnt grass.
That wasn’t the reaction Lachy expected to hear. He had never in his life heard his dad say such hurtful words. He didn’t know how to react to it, so he chose to ignore it. “Dad come with me. We can go hide in the Amish barns. The David Star will protect us.”
His father for a brief moment said nothing. Then his eyes lifted and shifted over to the Amish barns. “Protect us from what?”
Lachy had always considered his father an intelligent man, he was a cryptozoologist, he worked at the University of Philadelphia. Nothing about what was happening made a drop of sense to Lachy. “What happened to my treehouse?” Lachy asked, absently.
“You have to come home son.” Horace replied, his gaze fell onto Lachy. His emerald eyes were sincere, the lines on his face were smooth.
“I want to. Make them go away, and I will.”
His father actually laughed.
Tears prickled Lachy’s eyes. “You don’t want me, anymore. You are going to give me to those bad men.”
“Wison Guthrie is not a bad man.”
“Yes he is. He had green glowing eyes. He can fly. He shoots plasma balls from his hands.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He tried to attack me. I saw everything he can do. Trust me dad, he’s a bad man. You can’t let him take me away.”
His father groaned, and sifted his fingers through his hair. “It is the way of the Ravinwulf Deity. You must go with him, son.”
“Are you coming?”
“Not where you are going?”
Resentment and pain tore through Lachy. He pressed his face against his knees, deep sobs came from deep inside him, and Lachy found himself distancing from his father. “We need to get away from here, and fast.” Lachy said, making one final attempt to reach his father. “Wison wants to spill my blood. And I’m not going any where with a man who wants to kill me.”
“No one said he wants to kill you. He wants to protect you.”
“From what?”
“The beast that hunts you.”
“Why does the beast hunt me? Why does Wison hunt me?”
“Wison does not hunt children son. He is a Thunderbird hunter.”
Lachy shook his head. “The Thunderbird is kind. He saved me from that bad man. He protects me. I like him.” Lachy cowered near the grass when his father stood to his feet.
The eyes that came down on him like liquid pools of steel. “Thunderbirds are our enemy son. We kill them. That is what we do.”
“You have never killed anything in your life. What did that guy to do you dad?”
“You will attend with Wison Guthrie.”
“I will not.”
“You will do as you are told.”
“You don’t love me anymore.” Lachy said, sobbing into his hands. In all that he’d been through, he was starting to believe nothing could bring him to tears, and this was the ultimate thing, that finally did.
“Snivelling will get you no where.”
Lachy rose to his feet with a defiant stare. “I will stop him.” He dad froze in his tracks, with his back still turned to Lachy. “I will not let anyone hurt the Thunderbird. He is my friend.” Lachy felt the heat rising inside of him. It was coming in a wave to so powerful he wasn’t sure he could stop it. He needed water, and he needed it now. He glanced over the Amish farm and pictured it being torched to the ground, and it would be, if he didn’t find a way to calm down.
“What has the beast done to your mind boy?”
“What has the Warlock done to yours?” Lachy’s chest was heaving. He was shaking his hands trying to calm the fiery rage in his fingers.
His father was screaming with rage. “We will kill it. It will be slain before the morning light.”
“Why do you talk so old? You never talked weird like that until he came to visit. I think he did something to your head dad. You can’t think for yourself.”
His dad’s arm reached out, and he stepped closer to Lachy. Then a blast of light flashed, electricity buzzed, and his dad was lifted off his feet and was thrown backward. His strong arms lifted out to the sides, and smoothly caught his balance before he fell.
“Wow! I thought that only worked against Warlocks!” Fell off Lachy’s lips, and in that instant the heat was gone. His dad remained still for several moments, his faced was colourless, he was glowering at him, then he headed for the house.
“Dad?” Lachy screamed out, feeling a rush of panic rip though him at the sight of his father walking away. Tears of failure were stinging his eyes. “What happened to my treehouse?”
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“It was struck by lightening.” He said, not looking back.
Lachy sat for a long time with his head buried in his knees. He no longer cared about the watchdog who was on guard. He didn’t care that the crows had landed and one by one were making a circle around him. He no longer cared about anything at all. He was trapped in the Sacred Circle, with no way out, and it was indisputably clear, the Warlocks had control of his father’s mind, and he feared he may never get him back.
“Draculoc. Your heart is sad.”
“Go away.”
“Draculoc, you must get up.”
“I said, leave me alone.”
“It is the hardest roads that make us stronger.”
“I don’t know what that means. And I don’t want to talk to you.”
“What is it?” Ferus asked, his tone soft and purring.
“You wrecked my treehouse.” Lachy said, making two fists with his hands.
Silence.
“You did it. I know you did. My dad told me it was hit by lightening.”
“It was not by my magic that the old oak is destroyed.”
“Then what is?”
“Do you wish to hear a riddle?”
“Not now, Ferus.”
“A riddle will cheer you?”
“I don’t know what to do, Ferus.” Lachy said, not lifting his head. He recalled feeling sad and lonely like this at only one other point in his life, when his mother went to heaven. The terrible accident had so badly broken her body that his father didn’t even have a funeral. He never got to see her again, he never got to say good-bye. It left a gaping hole in his heart that could never be filled. Now he had a new hole, a bottomless pit of despair and it ached, and pained him until he was completely consumed, and couldn’t think or feel anything else. It was like mourning the loss of another parent.
“Young Draculoc, they gather.”
“What?” Lachy asked, lifting his head.
“You must get up.”
Lachy noticed that more crows had landed, and were facing him. They had made a circle around him, they weren’t pecking at grass, or hopping about. They were facing him, with their eyes locked on him directly.
“What’s wrong with the birds?”
“They wait.”
“For what?” Lachy gulped, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“For you, Draculoc.”
Lachy slowly stood to his feet, careful not to step off the burnt cinders of grass. “Shoo! Go away!” He shouted, waving his arms in the air. “Get out of here!” The birds reminded Lachy of statues in a garden, not one of them flinched or took their ebony marble eyes off him. Lachy felt a terrible vile feeling when he looked at them, and was anxious when he heard the odd hissing sound coming the mob of them, and he looked to the sky. There were more coming, stretching their wings out, preparing for a landing.
“They look like they want to have me for lunch.” Lachy said, it made him very nervous when he thought about it, it was like being swarmed, by a plague of deadly predators.
There was a scuffling of footsteps that captured Lachy's attention and he forgot all about the birds. The Warlock girl was coming his way. She was looking straight ahead, making slow easy steps, her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she hooked her thumbs in her jean pockets.
Lachy’s posture stiffened and he kept a steady eye on her, suspicious of her motives for approaching him in the field. She stopped before him, and a sour look came over her face. She lifted her hand and pressed a finger against the invisible shield, and it sparked, hummed and sizzled. She pulled her finger back, and stared at Lachy, shifting from one leg to the other.
“What do you want?” Lachy asked, folding his arms across his chest.
She plopped down and crossed her legs neatly, then she stretched out her arms. The birds turned and hopped around until they made the circle wider around Lachy and the girl. She ignored them, and smoothed out the strands of grass, with her fingers, watching the blades until there was a nice circle of grassed battened down before her feet. Lachy turned his back to her, but he made sure he shifted in such a way that he could keep watch on her from the corner of his eye.
She had a pouch that dangled off her belt, and she opened it up. Lachy turned to face her full view when she pulled out a rock, that looked like glass. It was see through, but when she flattened her hand and balanced it in the center, it turned a glowing sea green color. Then she dropped it on the grass, and pushed it with her fingers.
“What is that?” Lachy asked, backing away from her, as far as he could without leaving the circle.
She didn’t respond. She kept rolling the crystal under her palm, and bit her lower lip when sparks ignited the moment it touched the burnt grass. She finally stopped, and looked at him, with a startled expression. “What are you?” She asked, finally relaxing her shoulder and left the crystal on the grass.
“What is that?” Lachy asked. “What were you trying to do?”
“I asked first.” She snapped, her olive eyes darkened.
“No, you didn’t.” he snapped back, with his shoulders stiffening. She was the most annoying person he’d ever met in his life. All she had to do was look at him, and he felt irritated, wound up. Just because she as a girl Warlock, didn’t make her smarter, or better than him, this entire conversation was completely infuriating.
“Well, it matters not who asked first. I want to know, what are you?”
“What do I look like?” he said raising his arms up. “I am a kid.” Lachy snorted out a laugh, thinking her question was kind of silly. The answer was obvious, there really wasn’t a need to say it out loud.
She nodded in disappointment. “Thought so. I told them you weren’t anything special.”
“What?” Lachy's voice spiked. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She got to her feet and came a breath away from the shield. “You are a coward, hiding in there. What are you afraid of?”
“Who are you?” Lachy asked, refusing to be baited. She was using his cowardice angle, and might have worked well on a proud, arrogant Warlock, but it wasn’t going to work on him, he was above such pettiness. Then he plotted out a new strategy, it was time to learn about her, and all she knew. “Are you a Warlock?”
“Of course,” she replied, evenly, proudly. “We are all Warlock.”
“You mean, you and those twisted ex-football players you ride with, are loathsome Warlocks who hunt poor defenceless animals like Thunderbirds.”
She put a hand over her mouth, and hid a smile. “You aren’t very smart.”
“I am smart enough to keep you out.” He said, shifting his eyes to the shield, as if tempting to her to touch it again. He wasn’t the one who made the Sacred Ground, but he was enjoying the fact that he could freely step into it, and she couldn’t. She didn’t seem entirely displeased about that, and it infuriated Lachy that she was so annoying. How could she be accepting to the monsters inside his house, his skin burned, he wasn’t one to judge people, but he believed that she must be just like them.
“You made yourself a prisoner. You’re stuck.” She laughed, bitterly. Her words stung him, and he tried to hide the redness, heating through his cheeks. She was right, he was stuck, but at the time he didn’t have any other options, and he vowed at that moment, that he’d outsmart them all, and escape the Sacred Circle and they’d never find him, again.
“What’s your name?” He asked, hooding his eyes in an icy stare. He regarded her as the enemy, sent to trick him out of the circle, and he had news for her, it wasn’t going to work. Despite his aggravated state was brought on by her visit, he was grateful to her for coming, if only because she ignited a new energy to his spirit. He’d almost given up, and now he had a renewed desire to keep resisting them, and to try to keep Ferus from harm.
“Machala Bowman, and you’re Lachlan Wulf.” She said, with a half grin. “How long are you planning to stay in there?”
Lachy hadn’t really given that a whole lot
of thought. He was hoping deep in heart that the Warlocks would just go away, then he could return home, and everything would go back the way it was. Before he was hit by the lightening rod. “That’s none of your business.” He replied, trying to keep his fear from showing in his voice.
“You can’t stay in there, forever.” She was laughing again. “You aren’t very smart.”
“You already told me that.”
“Why do you think you’re father is with us?” She said, tilting her head, with two raised eyebrows.
“You leave my father alone,” Lachy said, balling up a fist. Was she baiting him, to draw out his fire? Did she know he could start fires? He couldn’t be entirely sure, and thought about basketball, how he wanted to play again. How he wanted to bike ride with Jake to school, how he wanted his life to return to normal. If he could manage to keep thinking about the things that made him happy, then she would fail at boxing him into a maddened state. She would never see his fire, he couldn’t let her see it.
“Or you’ll what? You’re stuck in a bubble little Lachy.” She said, smugly. She smoothed her hair off her forehead, so sure of herself, so confident that she was going to succeed at drawing out the worst in him, as if being a Warlock was better than being a kid. Her tattoo came into view, as her arm lifted higher and she smoothed her hair down to the tip of her ponytail. It was a Ravinwulf symbol, Lachy could easily guess that, because he could read it. It was a crest of some sort, with two heads, a raven and a wolf. What kind of a parent would let their kid get a tattoo? A mad, reckless, motorcycle riding Warlock parent, that’s who.
Lachy suddenly realised he had a problem, a big problem. The heat in his cheeks turned up a degree, and his fingers were starting to glow.. and his feet were feeling warm. “I’d shut up and go away if I were you.” It was as much a warning to back off, as it was a hint to go away. He wanted her to leave now, she was making things worse, she was needling through his defences and provoking his anger. He looked at her with his face hardened. “I’ve nothing left to say to you. Go away!”
She backed up a step, and gazed at him suspiciously, inspecting his face, he knew she could see the skin across his forehead prickle. “Why are you all red?”
“None of your business.” He said, trying to think of basketball, winning the game, fishing with Jake at the Lake. But it wasn’t working, he was getting hotter by the second. His anger was stirred up, she had a way of goading him, without even trying hard. He thought maybe a part of him was jealous of her, walking freely, not having to live in the fear the Warlocks put on him, or his friend Ferus. She seemed to have a carefree life that wasn’t being affected, turned up side down, ripped from the inside out. And to top it off she mocked him about it, as if she wanted them to do it. And it was obvious she did. He wanted nothing to do with her, and never wanted to see her again. “Just get out of here.” He shouted, putting his hands over his cheeks, willing the heat to go away.
“Fine. I’ll go. I got what I wanted.” She, smirking, and turned to face the house. She was doing it again, that smirk was corrupted, and so was she, by the Warlocks. Lachy worried that if they got him, they’d turn him into a cold-hearted fiend, just like Machala.
“What are you talking about. What did you get?”
“None of your business.” She stared into his eyes, making Lachy forget why he was in the circle in the first place. Then he shook his head hard, tearing himself out of the trance she’d put him in. He realized she had some type of power, and letting her look into his eyes could be lethal. Her laugher was light and cheerful, and she did a somersault, taking one giant leap and landed a next to the road. She lifted her arms over her head, and did another giant leap, and softly landed on two feet, before the doorstep of his house.
“Sweet. She has wicked moves, too.” He said with wide eyes, it looked like fun. There was one thing about those Warlocks, they sure knew how to make an exit.
“Ferus?”
Silence.
He sat down blowing a puff of air up the side of his face, and propped his chin on his hands. It was a good thing that the heat was cooling, but those creepy birds returned. They had him surrounded, watching him, staring at him as if they were ready to pounce on him and have him for supper. It gave him chills, and he waved his arms at them, trying to shoo them off. They didn’t move, or even seem to take notice of his efforts. “How ‘am I going to get out of here?”
Silence.
He pulled out his video game and started playing, taking a sip of juice box and munching on a sweet cake. He didn’t notice that Machala had gone inside the house, he purposely was ignoring her, unwilling to pay her any attention as it might make her come back. He also failed to notice that more Warlocks had come out, and his front yard was getting packed with them. Until he heard a bang.
He looked up, his view aimed directly at his house and he exhaled slowly. The Warlocks were gathering and were holding large bows and arrows. They were hooting loudly and smoothing their hands along the arrows as they filled tube like pouches that they hung over their shoulders. Then they scattered. Some ran behind the house, others down the road, and some raced into the woods. Lachy could hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Ferus. They are doing something.”
Silence.
“Ferus, I think they are hunting.”
Then he saw the girl. Machala came out of the house and he felt a new kind of feeling, his heart was beating wildly, as if it wanted to pounce out of his chest. Lachy wasn’t an angry boy, his nature was calm, cool, collected, he hardly ever experienced such intense emotions, and he didn’t like, not one bit. Machala was carrying something in her hands, something she had no right to touch. His gut reaction was to step out of the circle, and immediately confront her, if she was trying out a new and improved way to lure him out, she found it. He was so upset that his skin prickled and his insides were burning up. It was scorn. Lachy felt scorned, and he knew he had to stop himself, before something bad happened, his emotions were so deeply connected to what ever was causing the fire, that he feared it. Feared himself. He watched her, helplessly, as she carried a feather. Ferus’ feather. She had no right to go into his room, to touch his things, to touch anything that belonged to him, or Ferus. It was a dishonour to Ferus to have a Warlock touch even his feather.
Breathlessly he watched her as she pressed the root of it between her palms and lifted it high to the sky. It was stationed straight above her, for a moment, then it tilted. Horace, and Wison came out of the house next. Wison gave her a pat on the back, and a bright smile formed on her face. It was a sunny smile, as if she was proud of what she was about to do. Lachy hugged his arms around his waist, he didn’t like being so powerless, so vulnerably stuck inside this Sacred Circle. They followed her, as she took slow deliberate steps, and Lachy became comatose, all sorts of feral thoughts crowding his mind. She was stepping toward the Amish side of the road, to the field where Lachy was, directly at him and his circle.
“What is she doing?” Lachy asked, inside his head. “Ferus can you see?”
Silence.
Wison locked his eyes on the feather, a look of greed and excitement in his eyes. Lachy gulped, and his eyes widened with panic. He was temped to run, and try to make it to the Amish barn. It couldn’t be that far, maybe he could make it. Then he thought about the stuntman moves the Warlocks had, and was quickly reminded, that they would be on him long before he reached it. He’d be caught before he had two feet planted outside the circle. He took in brave breaths, preparing himself for what ever was going to happen next. They were moving in on him quickly, the feather in full tilt, in Lachy’s direction.
“What ‘am I going to do?” He thought, no longer speaking to Ferus, he had began to understand that Ferus had fled from the Warlocks, and he was glad for it. The others looked as though they had gone hunting. Hunting the Thunderbird. A sudden whooshing sound came from above Lachy. The birds scattered, and Lachy threw himself to the ground, it felt like a giant helicopter was landing.
“You are free to request, that of which, I am forbidden to ask.”
Lachy looked up, shocked and dismayed. Ferus was hovering over his head, his wings gracefully whooshing. He looked down at Lachy and for the first time, he had seen the kindness in Ferus’s eyes. Large round eyes that were shades of amber and deep browns, not the crimson that he had seen the night he met him.
“You pick now to give me a riddle?” Lachy was screaming not only in his head, he was screaming it out loud. “What does that even mean?”
“Look into your heart young Draculoc, there lies the question you long to ask.” Ferus replied, with an even smooth tone.
“How do I.. get out of this circle?” Lachy moved into the circle by being pushed by Mulish, but he was hesitant to touch the invisible barrier, what if it electrocuted him, like his father. He was positive his father was normal, like him. He’d have to be, there were flesh and blood, and yet the circle had attacked his dad, as it did the Warlocks. He didn’t trust the circle, and felt even more trapped, and desolate then he did before.
Gentle laugher.
“You could always free yourself, just as the barn wasn’t locked.”
Lachy took a look, the Warlocks and his father were only a few feet away. They were moving in on him, the field was scattered with dangerous, large Warlocks, forming a chain link, shoulder to shoulder, sweeping across the field.
“They are hunting you.”
“I know not fear.”
“Famous last words.” Lachy thought, glumly, he was charily watching them from the corner of his eye. He had learned better than to let them look him directly in the eyes, they seemed to have some sort of power over you, if they did lock you into a gaze. He couldn’t afford to lose control of his mind, and his hands balled into fists. It could be how they were controlling his father, too. Lachy was horror-stricken, and his insides cringed wretchedly, they were pointing toward the sky, moving faster, racing toward Lachy.
“Ferus you have to go. They want to kill you.”
Gentle laughter.
Lachy was foreseeing disaster, if he didn’t convince the Thunderbird to abandon him there, he had to do all he could think of, to make him leave. “Ferus, just go.”
Wison had flipped himself in the air, and raised his bow. “I will kill the beast lad, if you do not surrender yourself to me.”
Instantaneously Lachy heard a crowd of footsteps, hurried and gritty. Lachy was on the rim of totally losing control, the Warlocks seemed so calm, stealthy, they were expert marksmen, this was nothing more than hunting game to them. “Leave him alone.” He screamed out, trying to keep his voice stable. He gaped in astonishment, the Sacred Circle was completely surrounded by Warlocks, with Machala in the middle, all with bows in hand, raised arms, and keen eyes trained on the sky.
“Don’t hurt him. He’s not doing anything to you.” Lachy's voice finally cracked into a pleading cry. He didn’t care if Machala saw his weakness, it wouldn’t matter one bit. He had to try to stop them, he couldn’t live with himself if Ferus died because Lachy let them.
“We will do plenty to him, if you don’t come out lad.”
“Be brave.” Ferus whispered in Lachy’s mind. Ferus was their target, the Warlocks had taken aim, Lachy had no doubts that they would kill him, he had to ask himself the grave question that had been hoovering close to the edge of his thoughts. Was Ferus’ life worth risking, to stay on Sacred Ground, to protect himself, from those despicable Warlocks. The answer wasn’t difficult to find, he would never risk the life of a friend, to save himself, it was unthinkable.
“It is trickery. They will fire with or without you.” Ferus said.
“What can we do?” Lachy asked, circling around the Sacred Ground, eyeing more Warlocks than he could count. They sure ran in thick packs, Lachy still couldn’t believe this was happening. He took out a brief moment, to think to himself, as the Warlocks huddled around one another, having some sort of conference, and he breathed with slow breaths.
“Answer my riddle.”
“What?” Lachy answered harshly. “This isn’t time for games.”
“To see what I am, you must first answer a riddle.”
“Why?”
“Serpent Deity rules.”
“Tell me it, again. Hurry.” Lachy asked, with a fleeting look at Machala, who stuck her tongue out at him, she was goading him, and it was working. He stuck his tongue out, back at her, and his mind clouded with confusion, it made her giggle.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Wison said moving in on Lachy, dropping from the sky. His dark clothes were rustling against the wind, his feet landed next to the circle. He sure knew how to make an entrance, but Lachy stared up at him, bitterly.
“My stone. Give it to me, lad.”
Lachy had forgotten all about the emerald stone. He kept his hands were they were and resisted the urge to check his pocket. He knew it would give it away.
“A mighty beast that can breathe, yet it has no lungs, it can eat, yet it has no mouth, no tongue. It does not live, yet it can grow, and seethe, and when the food’s gone, it leaves. It will die if you give it a drink, yet it can cause mighty ships to sink. What ‘am I?”
“I.. I don’t know.” Lachy said, with two hands on his temples. Closing his eyes, trying to avoid the fierce eyes of Wison, who was watching.
“Come to me, lad. And your beast shall live.”
“Lair!” Lachy barked back at him. “You are a bad man, and you’ll kill him anyway.”
“Maybe I should kill him, first.” Wison said, turning his arrow on Horace. Who lifted his chin, and stared at Wison with indifference.
Lachy felt the heat rush through him. “You leave my father alone.”
“Ferus, my skin is scorching hot. I’m on... fire.”
“Well done Draculoc.” Ferus purred with a deep chuckle, there was a rapid panting in the back of Lachy's mind, and a hmmm, of pride. He knew it was pride, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that from Ferus.
His face warped into a puzzled expression. “What? What did I do?”
“Answered the riddle of course.”
“I did?” Lachy was trying to think quick, he had no idea what Ferus was talking about. He didn’t answer the riddle, he couldn’t have. The grass under his feet became to smoulder, there were sparks coming from the sides of his shoes. “Fire,” he repeated. “The answer is FIRE.” Lachy jumped up and down, desperately tyring to put it out. He couldn’t allow it to catch on the grass, no telling if it would ignite the entire field.
“There is no need to brag.” Ferus said, chuckling deeply, affectionately, as he circled around the field for the second time. The sun was going down, and the shadows on the field were growing long, and thin. It was sunset, and Lachy didn’t want to be in the circle during the night. He was panicking now, urging Ferus to do what he intended, long before the darkness came.
“I am waiting, lad.” Wison’s voice sliced through Lachy's thoughts like an icy blade, he never seemed to run out of ways to scare Lachy to death. Of shocking him unexpectedly, of jerking him out of his comfort zone. Lachy was all of those things, and more. Lachy looked like a startled cat, his hair matted and crumpled at the top his head, his eyes were jammed open. Wison was pointing the viperous tip of his arrow at his father’s throat. He had forgotten about Wison, he was bending down, his eyes level with Lachy's, and Lachy snapped his chin upward. He wasn’t going to allow Wison the pleasure of taking over his mind, he wasn’t going to let Wison win. Not yet.
“If you were going to kill him, you would have.” Lachy's expression was as hard and as serious as he could twist it. He was tempted to meet Wison’s cold sadistic leer, but all of his strength and spirit, forbade him to even attempt it. Not a glimpse. He winced inside at the thought of Wison making good on his threat, and harming his father, there seemed no level low enough, that this Warlock wouldn’t stoop. His father was looking at Lachy, with vacant eyes, his head tilted to the side, a
nd Wisons’ fingers were gripped onto this dad’s soft brown hair. His dad wasn’t struggling, his knees were locked, his posture was rigid. Lachy for a moment considered it another trick, his father was taller than Wison, thicker in the shoulder region too, if his father was fuelled up enough, Lachy considered his father could whoop his butt. If Wison wasn’t using magic against him, that was, he recalled the powerful force that held him over the center of the road. When the 18 wheeler was coming at him, at full force.
Even though he was trembling from being so close to Wison, he reached deep down inside his heart and called upon his courage, he just needed one more breaths worth of bravery, until he figured out what Ferus was up to. He was doing something, but Lachy had no idea what. Then suddenly everything became clear. Free will. Ferus said the Warlocks couldn’t take him, unless Lachy wanted to go with them, he had to say the words that he wanted to. What if Ferus lived under the same rules? What if he wasn’t allowed to ask Lachy to come, what if the question had to come from, Lachy?
“Ferus, I wish to go with you.” Lachy pushed the words hastily through his mind, and lowered his head. He didn’t want to risk Wison’s prying eyes to detect what Lachy was thinking. “I wish for you to take me away from them, now.”
“Well done Draculoc. Well done!” Ferus said with excitement, and joy. It was great joy, Lachy not only heard the joy, he felt it, shared it. “Please remain on Sacred Ground.”
“Deal.” Lachy said, and pounced down to his knees, packing up his belongings as fast as he could. He knew Wison was still a breath away from the barrier, but Lachy had an advantage, Wison would think Lachy was giving up. That he was preparing to surrender.
There was a large dark menacing shadow gliding over their heads, and the sides of Lachy's mouth lifted, into a confident smile, he knew what it was, he was waiting for it. The life was slowing draining from Wison’s face, as his head lifted to the sky. Ferus circled over the field and his wings made a mighty, aggressive whooshing air current, that dropped down on them, raising dust from the ground, and clouding their view. Lachy’s mouth dropped when he was blinded by a red glowing light, he felt as though he were standing in the middle of a target, and the weapon aimed at him was a giant blowtorch. He covered his face and screamed. “Dad! Dad run!”
Lachy sat crouched on the sacred spot, shaking and screaming with fright, from every forceful gush of a firestorm that blew around all around. There was heat, scorching heat, and he was suddenly enclosed by a ring of fire. He heard shouting, pounding of feet, and then it began to quiet. He slowly released his fingers from his eyes and caught a glimpse of the last of the Warlocks, running inside the house. Doors and shutters were slamming shut, they were barricading themselves inside the house. Lachy fought back tears as he caught a glimpse of his father in the dinning room window, Wison was patting his dad on the back, he was smiling.
It was now or never. Lachy fixed his eyes on the ring of fire, the flames were higher than his head and he was reliving his fears of a blazing field, burning barns, helpless innocents dying. “What ever you do Ferus, do not let that fire catch in the field, you must protect the Amish.”
“You have my word, no harm will come to the plain people.”
Lachy believed every word of that oath. He stared at the flames, hesitating, his feet felt planted into the ground, he wanted to run through the ring. To leap right over the flames, but his body wasn’t cooperating. He suddenly decided that it was urgent that he take control of his fear, that it was the one weakness he couldn’t afford. There was a tiny window of opportunity to escape from them, and he may never get another chance. “Ferus, I’m scared.” Lachy confessed. “My legs stopped working.”
“Valour comes from the heart Draculoc, your heart is pure.”
Those were nice words, but they weren’t very helpful. This was like a dream, or better put, the ending to his nightmares. He’d dreamt of this moment, so many times, waking up in cold sweats, terrified of the unknown. In a frenzy of fear he fought to get himself together, and he leapt forward. He realized his eyes were still closed tightly, as he felt a breeze of cool air sweep over his face. The air was fresh, and clean, and he let the world into his sight. He was outside the Sacred Circle. Then he nearly tripped over a rock, and gazed down alarmed, it was the crystal that Machala left behind. He reached down, picked it up, and shoved it into his pocket.
Now that he was free, and with the looming threat that his freedom was number by precious seconds, he lounged his legs out before him, and pounded his feet as hard and as fast as they would go. Heading toward the Mulish’s barn with his arms waving up, “Ferus! Ferus I’m here.”
The flames that encircled the Sacred spot, hadn’t even touched the ground, it was very opaque, as if it were a mirage. But the smoke sure smelled real, the field was fogged in with it, that was great news, it meant the Warlocks would have a hard time seeing him.. And then he suddenly realized there were burn marks scattered everywhere. Ferus had shot at them, considering there wasn’t any bodies, Lachy assumed they were warning shots. Enough to scare them away. Lachy stopped running. He no longer could see his house, but the Amish yard was unscathed. From smoke and cinder. “Ferus?” Lachy yelled out.
“Come to me.”
“Where are you?” he asked, no longer sure which direction to run. The barn was the only place he could think of, but that would bring a hundred angry Warlocks on the Amish’s doorstep. He’d already put them in danger once, he didn’t want to do that again. It wasn’t fair to them. This wasn’t their fight.
“Horace’s Lachy, come hither.” Lachy heard from across the field. He gasped when he saw Mulish Schmidt waving an arm toward the barn. “The Star of David will protect thou.”
Then again, Mulish did invite him, he had pluck for a plane man. Lachy kept running, heading toward the Amish farm and he screamed out when he felt a peck, at the back of his head. “Get out of here.” Lachy yelled out, waving away the crow.
“It is good luck, to see seven crows, Horace’s Lachy.” Mulish Schmidt’s calm voice spoke, clearly.
“I don’t feel lucky.” Lachy yelled back. “Not one bit.”
“Seven crows are much better than eight.” Mulish continued in his lesson. It was remarkable that Mulish could be so calm, and still offer a lesson, when all hell was breaking lose. Lachy noticed his hat had tilted, to the sky.
“Why?” Lachy asked, through puffs of breath.
“When thou seeith eight crows, it bring forth a funeral. The omen of death cometh.”
Lachy felt his heart sinking at the sound of those words and decided to stop counting crows.
“Make haste, they come.” Mulish said, pointing to the field. “Proverbs 28:5, Evil men are incapable of understanding justice, but those who seek the LORD understand it clearly.”
Dark fear hammered within Lachy's mind, they were coming. The Warlocks packed together, some in the air, on the ground, all at full throttle with bows raised high. A tempest windstorm erupted, and the skies streaked with bolts of lightening. Lachy was thunderstruck. A lightening bolt had jack-hammered into the ground before his feet, and disappeared into the earth leaving a dark gaping patch, of cinder and burnt hay, the patch was large enough to fit Mulish’s wagon. Lachy's short life had flashed before him, it made a terrible bang. “You almost hit me.” He hollered, at Ferus.
Gentle laughter.
“It’s not funny.” Lachy griped, feeling all hope was lost. Machala was the closest to him, he could hear her panting hard, and his insides withered when her breath hissed close to the back of his neck. She nearly collided with him, and did three back flips and skilfully took the sky.
There was a rumble. The earth under his feet was rickety. A potent compulsion inside him pressed him forward, and he ran. It felt like an earth quake was erupting and the ground was ripping under his feet, with every step he took.
“Lachy! Come here!” Horace Wulf’s voice of authority gave Lachy chills, and he resisted his instant reflex to obey his
father’s command. Lachy's heart was suffering with haunted fear and grief. With every step he ran, the Amish barn edged closer. The ground was bouncing mercilessly under his feet, and started to crack, splitting open, as if it wanted to swallow him whole. Lachy stretched out his arms and tried to hold his balance.
“Ferus?”
Silence.
“Ferus, where are you?”
Lachy was panting wildly, as he felt a tight grip clasp onto his arm, and he felt eyes burning holes into the back of his head. It was Machala. She managed to get a tight grip on him, and he sifted through the memories in his mind, Chris Daniels was the file name. Just thinking of his name set his skin to blazes, and he intended to singe her fingers until they let go. The earth beneath his feet vibrated, chunks of dirt spurted up over his head, his legs were bucking up, and he was released from Machala’s strong-hold.
Lachy’s mind warned him, that Ferus was near, but he couldn’t see him anywhere. The whole world fazed into slow motion around him the moment he saw Machala’s face, she suddenly looked venerable, young and innocent. She looked so terrified that she couldn’t close her eyes, at least that’s what Lachy thought. Until the glow started with a flicker, and then the whites of her eyes were eclipsed, until there was nothing but glowing olives, just like the others. He heard her scream, and watched as she helplessly was tossed aside, and the Warlocks were sent flying head over heels.
The David Star was becoming level with his vantage point. He was caught by the tail end of a strong brisk wind, and he looked down at his feet. The ground was moving away from him, it was a wild view. He was standing on what looked like a piece of glass, and it was elevating him into the clouds.
“Lachy Wulf, you get down from there this instant.” He heard his father yell out.
“I’m sorry dad.” Lachy’s sense of loyalty to his father, was pushing it’s way to the forefront of his mind, and his stomach became a liquid pool of guilt. The last thing in the world he wanted to do, was hurt his father, but by this point, he deemed his father had left him little choice. There was a subtle puff of hot breath pass by his cheek, and a ruffle of dark cloth soared next to him, it was disturbingly close, the Warlock was definitely in arms reach.
Promptly Lachy tried to figure out what was happening to him, and he knew in an instant that he had to break the number one rule in heights. He was aware that it would make his dizzy, sick and weak, but he didn’t see any other way, he’d have to look down. There was heat coming from his skin, the bolt of lightening that had carried him this far was cracking, shattering and melting under his feet, and when he finally got a good grasp of his situation, he came to see that it was Ferus. Dragon magic. Lachy's insides were cheering with delight, then the clear platform that braced his weight broke away, and long feathers were forming beneath his feet. Within a flash of an instant, Ferus was soaring steady, beneath him, and Lachy stretched out his hands, desperately trying to hold his balance, until he landed on Ferus’s back. It was the most thrilling moment of his life.
“I want my stone, lad. Give it here.” He heard, and turned to see Wison was next to them, reaching out his leather gloved hand. His teeth were bared in anger, and his eyes flicked an indulgent look at the Thunderbird.
“Never!” Lachy shouted, hotly. He had been forced to choose between the Thunderbird and his father, and he held Wison Guthrie directly responsible for it, for all of this.
Lachy's stomach churned with disagreeable flips, he felt the distance of the ground, and it made his head light, airy and dizzy. They were flying hundreds of feet in the sky. He had never been in the sky, and his entire body had seized up on him, and a moan escaped him. He sat down, on a soft feathery surface and stroked his hands over the thick silky feathers.
“Welcome Draculoc.”
“Thanks. I think.” Lachy replied, with his eyes clamped shut. He felt the sway of the Thunderbird as it tilted as an arrow graced by Lachy’s head. He snuck a peek in the direction it came from, and his gaze locked with Machala, with swift movements she came an inch from reaching his ankle.
“Ferus they are shooting at us.”
Gentle laughter.
“Wave Farewell to the Warlocks.” Ferus replied, with two quick swoops toward the Amish barn. Lachy hung onto a feather with a death grip, and noticed Mulish Schmidt in the tiny window of the barn, and he raised an arm high. Lachy liked Mulish Schmidt since he could remember, and now he considered him family. He steadied himself, by digging in his heels into the sides of the Thunderbird, and raised a quivering arm up and his wave was returned, by Jerry, Jacob and Mulish’s Lomey. Lachy quickly grabbed hold of a handful of feathers, as if his life depended on it, and he was pretty sure it did.
“Do not fear.” Ferus said, in a cheerful voice.
“My father?” Lachy said, looking over his shoulder, grief consuming his heart. Since the day of his father broke the news to him, of his mother’s passing, Lachy hadn’t felt so much grief, so much sadness, anger or confusion. It was inconsolably mortifying.
“You father has chosen his path, Draculoc. You cannot chose it for him.”
“But.. he is with Warlocks?”
“That is correct.”
“Why is my father with Warlocks?”
“Look into your heart Draculoc, the answer lies within.” Ferus said, and took to the skies. A rush of denial had arrested his heart. He didn’t notice the trees below looked like a thick blanket of grass, he was barely aware of the basketball court, or Jake’s house at the far end of Orchard Avenue, as they shadowed over it, from the sky.
“I will show you what I am.” Ferus said, and gave his wings a mighty flap, then they soared over a river. It was clear as glass, and Ferus had no reflection, all that Lachy could see, were fish as they swam, it was incredible, Lachy wasn’t visible, either.
“Your heart is sad, Draculoc.”
For a long time Lachy said nothing. Then absently he said, “Yes.”
“Do you wish to return?”
Lachy hesitated. Then he thought of Machala, and the ruthless olive eyes that stared at him, and he shuddered to think how she looked, evil. He guessed the Warlocks must have changed her, and feared they had changed his father, too. He shook his head, and the word, no, echoed through his mind.
“Very well.” Ferus replied.
“Will they follow?” He asked, glancing back.
“They will try.” Ferus said, in a husky deep tone, and there was a hint of amusement underling his words. Ferus wasn’t afraid of them, it didn’t matter how many came after him, he was brave. Lachy wanted to brave, just like Ferus, he wanted to be free, like him too. Then a sudden fear flashed in Lachy’s heart, grudgingly he knew, he would always fear Warlocks.
“Be brave Draculoc.”
Inside Lachy’s mind, even deeper than Ferus could see, he was trying not to fall to pieces. He was telling himself that he was doing the right thing, and he fought back the furious pounding of grief in his heart.
“Fancy a riddle?”
Lachy loosened his grip on the giant feather and a smooth calm came over him as the clouds breezed against his face. He could see Lancaster below, it was so small that looked like an ant farm. A lionhearted feeling soared through him, and he shook his head yes. But before Ferus took off in flight, Lachy had one thought. “That was awesome, when you went underground.”
“Did you like my.. stuntman moves, Draculoc?”
“Wow! And I thought Warlocks had wicked moves.”
The sound of Ferus’ laugh, made Lachy know in his heart, that although he feared the unknown, he made the right choice. Ferus gave a propelling flap to his wings, and Ferus charged with the speed of a supersonic plane. It was thrilling, exciting, and Lachy eagerly watched the sun as it finally went to rest, for the day. Soon the moon would be up, and they’d soar along the starry skies. He kept watch over the horizon, he was right where he wanted to be, with his friend, his confident. Danger was lurking in the shadows behind them, he knew his father, Wison and the
Warlocks would search for them, but at this moment, they were free, they were safe, and happy. He didn’t want to be separated from the Thunderbird, ever again.
Epilogue
Ferus and Lachy journey to the Andes, home of the Serpent Deity, but it was not without their fair share of troubles. Haietlik, a lightening snake, who was jealous of Ferus, for having a pet human, tries to extinguish Ferus and steal his small prized treasure. When they finally arrive at the Serpent Deity, the elder dragons accept Lachy into their hive, with polite curiosity. He was one of them, and had much to learn, with little time to learn it in.
There was a major problem, Machala was with the Warlocks. She possessed Ferus’ feather, and had the power to track him, it is why the Warlocks acquired her services, and was brought along, by her father, Kurtz Bowman. The wisdom from the eldest of the Thunderbird Dragons foresaw the war that was to come, all in the fold, were ordered to prepare, before the Warlocks invaded the dragon’s territory. Lachy was filled with fear and anguish over leaving his father, and them both choosing opposite sides. The Warlocks would come, and when they did, he must face his father, and defy him, once again. The Warlocks were bringing an unpleasant surprise, they brought a hostage to convince Lachy to leave with them, it was a terrified and distraught, young Jake. Lachy was faced with biggest challenge of his life, so far. He and his new friends must find a way to defeat the Warlocks, and keep Jake safe. All the while, Lachy's body continued to change.. and he feared it could be for the worst.
About Willow Fae, the Author
Willow Fae von Wicken wrote this novel, with the explicit direction of her young son who had a fascination with thunderbirds, dragons, and warlocks his entire life. He spent a lot of time researching and was the mastermind behind creating the rules of the Deity, and Lachy Wulf’s world. She wrote and edited this novel with him, to present it to readers, like you, with pride. This series of Thunderbirds and Warlocks has many adventures to come, and if you like these, you may also enjoy her son’s inspired Young Adult, Sci-fi Novel series coming next.
Willow Fae has travelled overseas exploring and embracing inspirations for her novels. Being nurtured in magic her entire life, she brings together enchanting worlds of unique, unforgettable beings. A college instructor by profession, she has been an online writer for many years, with over 1.6 million readers. Writing since she could hold a pen, she decided to share her novels with readers who love to escape to celestial worlds.
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It was a pleasure for us to share Thunderbirds and Warlocks with you. I would like to thank my son, for all his work, and effort that were put into creating this novel, thank you.
Blessed Be
Copyright Page
THUNDERBIRDS & WARLOCKS
BOOK ONE
Copyright © 2011 Dymond Publishing
Available on;
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DRM, Digital Rights Management Technology - reserved 2011
Dymond Publishing™
Serpent Deity Series ™
Author Willow Fae von Wicken
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Thunderbirds and Warlocks™ is a registered trademark of registered trademark Dymond Publishing™. Use of the registered trademarks and logo for, Thunderbirds and Warlocks ™ and registered trademark and logo for Dymond Publishing™ is strictly prohibited, without permission in writing from the owner.
Dymond Publishing, ™
Author, Willow Fae von Wicken, Narrator, and Illustrations by son of Willow Fae, Wulfang von Wicken
Author, Willow Fae von Wicken, Jacket Cover Design, Illustrations, Graphics, by author Willow Fae von Wicken, Dymond Publishing
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