Soaring in Air: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Magic of Nasci Book 5)

by DM Fike

  I raised a hand and drew a sideways S. A breeze hit my back and blew straight into Vincent’s face, tossing his ebony hair off to one side.

  “Turns out I was wrong. But more important than that, you were right. I can’t give up. Not now.”

  My rumbling stomach butted into the conversation. I grinned sheepishly, patting it. “And I guess I’m hungry too.”

  Vincent’s face melted into a soft smile. “I can’t let you starve on my doorstep.” He grabbed keys from inside and locked the apartment. “Let me buy you dinner.”

  I didn’t argue as he led me to his car. The interior still held the chill of air conditioning, a stark contrast to both the heat outside and the warmth inside my blood. I had no idea what would happen between us, but I trusted Vincent explicitly as he steered his car toward downtown Florence.

  CHAPTER 6

  VINCENT ASKED WHERE I wanted to eat, so I mentioned my favorite downtown seafood joint. Located on the riverfront, the clam chowder there tasted like heaven on earth, and I always tried to stop by when I could.

  Unfortunately, everyone else within a five-mile radius had made the same plan. Tourist season had arrived on the Oregon Coast. We parked in a large public area and waded through window shoppers, slow moving families, and dogs on leashes just to reach the restaurant. By then, dinner rush was in full swing. The line to enter the restaurant extended out across the little harbor bridge and almost to the street. We wouldn’t get a chance to eat there for at least an hour, and my poor empty stomach couldn’t wait that long.

  Vincent noticed my hangry mood and ushered us farther down Bay Street, searching for an alternative. He led me to a squat yellow building with a glass brick doorway and a sign boasting several varieties of beer. Vincent said he knew someone on shift who would get us a table quick. Reminding myself that most beach pubs can’t screw up fish and chips, we ducked inside.

  The signs weren’t kidding about the beer. Bottles of them covered not only the wall but the ceiling too, hanging down like frat house stalactites. The rest of the décor centered around drinking said bottles, with wooden signage for local brews and artwork featuring—you guessed it—more beer-related paraphernalia. Throw in a couple of pool tables, slot machines (because why not) and a flat screen TV flashing a soccer game, and you had a typical Oregon sports bar.

  A hostess greeted Vincent as an old high school classmate, his insider. She scored us a private corner booth not far from one of the TVs. After the hubbub of ordering was complete, Vincent slouched, swishing a glass of water in his hand.

  His dark eyes pierced mine. “Tell me everything. From the moment you left for Mt. Hood.”

  Vincent knew I’d gone off to warn the shepherds of Rafe, but he had no idea what happened on the mountain. I exhaled slowly. “It’s a long, ugly story.”

  “We’ve got nothing but time.”

  I laid it out for him. Normally I would have fudged some details, but given everything Vincent had done for me, he deserved the truth. I told him about the four elemental golems Rafe had created using the pith I’d inadvertently cleansed for him. I mentioned the injured shepherds, including the Oracle, the leader of the Talol Wilds. I took a deep breath before plunging into how Tabitha had given her life to seal the lava dome shut, preventing Rafe from absorbing unimaginable magic power. I did not mince details as I outlined being buried alive, even when Vincent clutched his glass so tightly I worried it might break. I finished with Darby, Tabitha’s eyas, saving me, and the shepherds’ decision to bind me for my role in Rafe’s rampage. Since I’d already done so much damage by absorbing golems, I’d lost access to my pithways anyway, so I ran away before they could finish the job.

  After I got to the point where I’d made it back to my parents’ house in one piece, Vincent asked, “So, you believed your nature wizard days were over?”

  I nodded. “Until last night. I went for a midnight walk in the rain. Ran into an awful dude-bro in a pickup. He ended up chasing me a few blocks trying to kidnap me.”

  A vein pulsated on Vincent’s forehead. “You’re shortening my lifespan here. Why would you go walking alone in a city so late?”

  I threw up my hands. “I needed to think, okay? My entire life was ruined. I thought I’d have to work retail until I keeled over dead from boredom. I didn’t mean to go looking for trouble.”

  “Yet, it always seems to find you.”

  “And I always kick it to the curb. I jumped a fence into a public park and the dude-bro wrecked his truck trying to catch me. The storm worsened in the park.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Lightning flashed. And who should appear but my good friend, the fox dryant. I electrocuted that guy straight into unconsciousness.” I chose to leave out the part that I’d knocked myself out too. No point giving Vincent a heart attack.

  Vincent perked up at this. “The same fox dryant the other shepherds don’t believe exists?”

  “One and the same. And now my pithways are open again. I’m not back at full capacity, not even close, but it’s way better than zero.”

  Vincent considered my story with furrowed eyebrows. “What does all that even mean? Why would the fox dryant do that for you?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s gotta be a sign. The fox dryant has only ever appeared to me twice before—once to give me ken and a second time to save Guntram against the cockatrice. She must believe I’m worthy of being a shepherd.”

  “I don’t doubt you,” Vincent said slowly. “But it’s going to be difficult if your peers want to bind you.”

  “Which is why I came to see you. I saw the news about an earthquake leveling the Wonderland construction site on Mt. Hood. You mentioned it’s not the only place experiencing strange seismic events.”

  “Yeah.” Vincent pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “The USGS has reported a lot of activity throughout the Cascades.” He showed me a digital map of the range, several large red dots noting different medium magnitude quakes.

  I bit my lip. “I mean, there’s a fault line there. Maybe they’re normal quakes?”

  “Our seismologists don’t think so. They’ve flagged these incidents as highly unusual with no discernible pattern. It’s got them so stumped, the Forest Service has been put on alert in case it’s indicative of a larger disaster.”

  The waitress brought us our food then, interrupting our conversation. We passed condiments, napkins, and utensils. I settled into my fish and chips while Vincent chowed down on a burger. I gracefully added a ketchup stain to my hoodie, thankful that black fabric tends to forgive most stains.

  As we dove into the meal, Vincent spouted off earthquake statistics from his phone. I admit that my mind wandered, focusing on the flickering images of the TV instead. Someone had changed the station to a local news broadcast, 3D boxes and fonts zipping across the screen to announce the day’s top stories. I took a sip of pop.

  The word ‘Wonderland’ flashed across the screen in huge white text. “Jim Borden, CFO of Wonderland Resorts, was found dead this afternoon,” the anchorwoman announced.

  I choked. Carbonated beverage went up my nose.

  “Ina?” Vincent patted my hand as I sputtered. “Are you okay?”

  I waved toward the TV. “Look,” I managed around a cough.

  We both focused our attention on the screen, the headline “Resort Executive Drowned” scrolling by.

  Vincent gasped. “The hell?”

  A photo of Borden and his wife taken at some ritzy gala event dominated the screen. They pulled off the “aging power couple” look well, impeccably dressed in tuxedo for him and simple black dress for her. He had a neatly trimmed beard with no hair on top, sporting a cocky smile as he raised a champagne glass to the camera.

  “Jim Borden had been visiting the Oregon Coast with his wife Sharon. The two took a walk on Heceta Beach around ten o’clock this morning. Although Sharon insisted they stayed a safe distance from the shoreline, she claims a wave bore down on them out of nowhere, dragging her husband into the ocean.” />
  “Did you know about this?” I whispered to Vincent.

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve been off duty the last few days.”

  The graphic switched to a whimsical logo of a stylized skier swishing down the flowing lines of a W in the shape of a mountain. “Wonderland Resorts has experienced major financial setbacks this month after an earthquake destroyed their latest project, a new outdoor recreation area on Mt. Hood. Environmental groups have labeled the new resort a travesty given its location on previously protected forestland.”

  The screen shifted to a reporter in a windbreaker standing beside a beach. Police cars had parked directly on the sand not far behind him. “It was here on Nye Beach where Borden’s body finally washed ashore. Local officials say it is a stark reminder never to turn your back on the ocean.” The interview continued with the reporter talking to a police officer, who went through a bunch of tips on how to keep yourself safe while on the beach.

  As the broadcast moved onto a story about glass floats in Lincoln City, my mind went into overdrive. “Can you believe that?”

  Vincent shrugged. “It happens. You know better than me how unpredictable nature can be. And if there really is a nature goddess living beneath our feet, maybe it’s her way of dishing out karma.”

  I shook my head. “Nasci doesn’t work that way. She’s not vengeful.”

  Vincent shifted uncomfortably. “Then how about a mere mortal? Your shepherd friends might want to settle a score for their lost comrade.”

  “Absolutely not,” I snapped. “To do so would break shepherd code.”

  “Then I guess that leaves coincidence. Some other sort of justice meting itself out in the vast universe.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but I let it go. Vincent outlined the handful of earthquake hot spots that had cropped up around Oregon, stretching from here to the middle of the state. I wished I could say I concentrated on his data, but my mind wandered to Borden and his untimely demise.

  I didn’t like coincidences.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE SUN HAD fallen into the ocean as we finished our meal, signaling the end of a long day. The crowd on the riverfront had thinned, but the remaining bustle forced us to thread through a throng back to Vincent’s car. Passing couples holding hands and soft rock blaring out of random kitschy storefronts made me conjure up all those lousy love songs about oft-remembered summer flings.

  “Where are you spending the night?” Vincent asked as he clicked to unlock his car.

  I waited until we’d both buckled up inside. “I dunno. I hadn’t planned that far ahead. I could spend the night in the woods. My fire pith should keep me warm.”

  Vincent started up the engine. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I’ve spent the night outdoors by myself plenty of times.” I bit my lip. “Although it’s possible a dryant could find me and alert shepherds. If they found me, they’d bind me for sure.”

  Vincent’s eyes locked with mine. “You’re welcome to stay with me.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “You mean, at your place?”

  “I have a futon in the living room you can use,” he said in a neutral tone, glancing behind the vehicle for pedestrian traffic. “It’s a logical solution.”

  If I hadn’t noticed his face redden, I might have assumed Mr. Smooth didn’t have any emotional investment with me crashing his pad. Despite all our talk of shepherds and strange geological phenomenon, we’d avoided any real discussion about the state of our relationship.

  I dreaded my next words but had to say something. “Doesn’t that make things complicated?”

  The setting sun hit his face as we rolled onto Highway 101. Vincent pulled down the driver’s side sun visor. “I vote we keep things strictly platonic.”

  Platonic. A part of me relaxed in relief, but the rest bristled in annoyance. I didn’t appreciate either extreme, so I settled on a tense, “Oh?”

  Vincent stiffened. “I think we’ve got enough going on without adding another layer of problems to the mix, don’t you? It keeps things simple.”

  “Sure,” I replied in a monotone. “Simple.”

  Vincent risked breaking his gaze from traffic to glare at me. “What exactly do you want here, Ina?”

  I balked, not expecting the direct approach, but I’d been honest with him so far. Why stop now? “I’m not sure,” I admitted without the attitude. “I’m just confused.”

  Vincent’s glower melted into sympathy as he focused on the road. “Then you understand where I’m coming from. I have strong feelings for you, but given everything that’s happened, I’m not sure if I should pursue them or not.”

  A cold shiver spiked through my arms. I rubbed them, blaming the air conditioning. I’d spent so long wondering if I should let Vincent into my life, but it’d never dawned on me that he could have similar doubts about me. Who could blame him? I’d put him through the wringer since I’d met him—from bludgeoning him with a whale corpse to my latest rejection of him in Seattle. He had every right to have second thoughts.

  “Okay, that makes sense.” I tried my best to sound positive and not in the least crushed. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time.”

  He must have accepted this as the best response because we said nothing more as we pulled into his apartment complex.

  Once we walked back upstairs, Vincent held the door open for me. His apartment looked exactly like I’d last seen it, a threadbare pad with no adornments on the off-white walls. He flicked on a standing lamp to cast an orangish hue throughout the living room. On an adjacent wall, his flatscreen TV and game console gleamed a dull black. Some dirty clothes were lumped together in a pile to one side, but otherwise everything appeared clean. He shuffled the laundry into the hallway as I removed my muddy boots near the door.

  “You need a shower?” he asked from around the corner.

  I glanced down at my slightly wrinkled clothes. Since I could regulate my temperature again, I didn’t sweat as much, and my body felt mostly clean. “No thanks.”

  He returned with sheets wrapped in his arms. “I hope you don’t mind if I jump in. It’s been a long day of driving. Then I better go to bed because I have an early shift tomorrow.” He gestured toward the futon. “You know how to fold that thing out?”

  I patted its rough cushions. “Yeah, a college buddy had one. It’s no big deal.”

  He handed me a blanket with a flat pillow folded on top. “You can use this as bedding. Feel free to watch cable as long as you want. The remote’s on the stand, and you can snack on anything in the kitchen.”

  “Okay.”

  We paused for a few awkward seconds. Vincent eventually broke it by excusing himself. He locked himself in the bathroom, the sound of running water filling up the hallway.

  Normally, I would have gladly taken the opportunity to watch TV well past midnight, but I’d nursed that bad habit too long at my parents’ house. A day of traveling and sigil drawing had drained me. I pulled out the futon and settled the blanket around myself, wondering if I should at least wait to use the bathroom before I fell asleep. But I never got a chance, drifting off well before Vincent finished his shower.

  * * *

  I stood at the edge of a boiling pit of lava, searching frantically for Tabitha. I knew she had fallen in, although I had not witnessed it. I touched the red-hot surface, retreating when it burned my fingertips. She had to be in there somewhere, sealing the dome shut. Maybe I could still reach her.

  “Tabitha!” I yelled. With one agonizing thrust, I shoved my arm into the viscous fluid up to my elbow, instantly losing all sensation in my arm. “Tabitha!”

  I’ve always thought you were weak-willed and not worthy of being a shepherd. Her final words rang in my ears.

  Prove me wrong, haggard.

  A blinding light struck my face, the bubbling noise of the lava drowning out all my other senses. I fumbled around without context, trying desperately to orient myself.

  I crashed onto Vincent’s hard carpet i
n a tangle of blue blanket.

  Blinking, it took me a second to realize the light that blinded me hadn’t been a dream. An LED lamp in Vincent’s bedroom flashed through the doorframe and struck my eyeballs like a focused laser beam. The bubbling noise came into focus too, the sound of a coffee pot gurgling as it heated up water. The only sensation I couldn’t completely account for was the continued numbness in my arm. Probably slept on it wrong, I thought as I crawled back up onto the futon.

  Vincent appeared in the hallway, bedhead spiking in all directions. He guided a toothbrush up and down his teeth, a line of toothpaste poking out from the corner of his mouth.

  “Ima?” He mispronounced my name through the brushing. “You okay?”

  I waved him away. “Just not a morning person.”

  Vincent raised an eyebrow but shuffled away to spit in the bathroom sink. I waited until he emerged a few minutes later with combed hair before using the bathroom myself.

  I returned to the living room. Vincent poured himself a mug of coffee. “You want some?”

  I nodded, gladly accepting his additional offerings of milk and sugar. I cupped it in my hands, letting the steam float up through my nostrils as Vincent tucked his gun and wallet away. It was only then I noticed he wore a full black police uniform, not the beige park ranger one I’d seen him don before.

  “What’s up with your cop costume?”

  He glared at me. “It’s not a costume. I have different uniforms for different purposes. Today I’m out on patrol. And I gotta go now if I’m going to make it on time.”

  I glanced at the microwave clock. “5:40 in the freaking morning?”

  “Shift starts in twenty. I might not come home until right before dinner. You good for the day?”

  I shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”

  He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “You don’t happen to still have a cell phone, do you?”

  “Nope.” The p-sound of the word popped out, making my reply sound more flippant than I intended.

  Vincent frowned. “Then I suppose I should pick you up a new one before I come home. I don’t like not having a line of communication to you.”