Shattering Earth: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Magic of Nasci Book 4)

by DM Fike

  I grabbed onto Guntram’s cloak for support as I attempted to stand. “It shattered my defensive charm in one bite!” I shivered, although I wasn’t cold at all.

  “Afancs have powerful front teeth.” He frowned as he assessed my wounds, both physical and otherwise. “Your water pith is trapped, seeping into your other non-magical systems. You’re going into shock.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. I struggled to get my legs working properly.

  “You’re not fine,” Guntram correctly diagnosed. “We need to get your water pith flowing again.”

  “Then let’s head back to the homestead for a soak.” My grip on Guntram’s cape faltered, and I slipped back to the ground. As I wheezed on my hands and knees, wrist-deep in mud, my insides went tingly and numb.

  “There’s no time.” Before I could react, Guntram pushed me on my back so I lay chest down on the ground.

  “Hey,” I yelled as his hands flipped me over like an unwieldy pancake. I stared up at Guntram’s face outlined against the cloudy sky. At least, I think it was Guntram. Hard to tell since I saw three or four beards, all of them blurry. My words slurred. “What’re ya doing?”

  “My apologies, Ina. This is going hurt.”

  I couldn’t respond as a devastating shock ripped through my pithways. I arched my back, attempting to wriggle away from the source of that sudden and unrelenting agony. The looming trees around me oscillated as if glowing under a giant strobe light. I no longer had control of anything as jarring pulses of warmth and chills wracked my internal organs, each temperature wash becoming more extreme to the point where I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  Then water. Water, water, everywhere. Water filled my ears, my throat, my lungs. It tasted slightly of iron, of blood. I floated, far, far away, not knowing what to do.

  Breathe. Relax. Commands floated across my synapses. Flow. Release.

  A pinprick. A pop. The water drained, but I drained with it. Down, down into a deep, dark void encompassing everything.

  * * *

  I woke floating in mid-air, wet sandpaper rubbing against my face.

  At least, that’s what it felt like as I cracked my eyes open. I shoved back the rough material brushing my cheek over and over again, but that tipped my precarious balance. I slipped downward, surprised to find myself submerged in water.

  Panic set over me. Had the beaver vaettur returned? Would I die here? I drew a frantic series of Vs stacked on top of each other. To my relief, the water sigil worked. Water went flying everywhere, buoying me upward. When my backside smacked hard on stone, I realized the “floating” sensation had just been me sitting inside the homestead’s hot spring.

  The source of the wet sandpaper poked his feline head over the lip of the pool. Nur blinked down at me, tongue washing his nose. He’d licked my face until I’d lashed out with water pith. Releasing a half-purr, half-growl, he batted a paw at me to get out.

  I crawled out of the pool to sit next to Nur. With only feet dangling over the side, I reached over to pet him between the ears, but Nur flinched backward to avoid any backsplash from my dripping body.

  “Sorry, buddy.” That’s when I realized I wore only a thin, completely drenched tunic. At least they’d left a robe nearby, even if it was made of scratchy homespun cloth. I executed a quick drying sigil, water droplets flowing downward back into the pool. I threw on the robe for modesty, then groaned my way up the steps, every muscle aching. Nur chased after me. A particularly harsh tightness around my throat made it hard to swallow, although I didn’t know how I’d damaged my neck.

  I moaned, Nur escorting me across the homestead. He must have deemed me dry enough because he thrust his forehead into my hand. I patted him absentmindedly as I recalled my last memories. Whatever Guntram had done to get that nasty vaettur poison out of me ached. Still, I appreciated that my water pith flowed normally again.

  Before I could find Guntram at the library, two black-tailed deer sauntered out from behind a grove of trees. They froze when they spotted me limping toward them. One of them suddenly shot off like a rocket, the other one fast on its heels, racing away from us.

  Perfect. Deer roaming about meant only one thing. The Sassy Squad had arrived.

  The deer trotted over to augur Tabitha and her eyas Darby next to one of the homestead’s many small ponds. Both women kept themselves in absolute top athletic form, not an ounce of unintended fat on their bodies. Tabitha had more muscle on her frame, hair pulled back in a ponytail revealing high cheekbones that resembled her deer kidama. She barked orders from within her fur-lined cloak to a lithe Darby, whose platinum-colored hair bounced artfully as she executed a series of sigils to keep globs of water afloat in the air. They could have passed for two acrobatic performers practicing a complex routine.

  “Keep your pace steady!” Tabitha commanded. “Don’t let a single drop fall!” Then, despite the fact that Darby struggled with the balls already under her care, Tabitha created a new basketball sized globe and pitched it to her.

  I held my breath as Darby’s fingers desperately scribbled to catch the large sphere. The other dozen or so spheres fell sharply, one almost breaking ground near her ankle, but Darby managed to stabilize them all at the last second. Sweat beaded her delicate brow as she kept everything hanging.

  I whistled, much louder than I intended. “Nice!”

  Darby jerked to peer at me, and the entire spectacle came crashing down. The deer kidama pranced away as water exploded around the augur and shepherd pair, drenching them.

  Tabitha flipped around to glare at me. “How dare you interrupt our training?”

  I held a hand over my mouth to hide both embarrassment and amusement. “Sorry,” I said between my fingers. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “You never mean to,” Tabitha growled. “And yet you always cause a host of trouble wherever you go. Your own augur can’t trust you to defend against an afanc by yourself.”

  Anger welled in my chest. “Guntram told you about that?”

  “Told me?” Tabitha snorted. “He summoned us specifically. We sealed the breach after Guntram had to haul your sorry hide back to the homestead. Without us, the afanc’s breach would still be open today.”

  “‘Today?’” I repeated in surprise. “How long have I been out?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  Wow. I couldn’t believe I’d been injured so badly that it took me more than 24 hours to recover.

  The look on my face made Tabitha nod in satisfaction. “That’s right. You’re not the maverick you always think you are. Now shoo, little haggard.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “The real shepherds have work to do.”

  Fuming, I opened my mouth to retort, but the pleading expression on Darby’s face gave me pause. Although historically I’d never gotten along with her either, we’d recently reached a sort of distant mutual respect. Also, anything I did to sour Tabitha’s mood would likely reflect in training horrors for Darby. Therefore, I clamped my mouth shut and walked away.

  “Quiet, eh?” Tabitha taunted. “Maybe you can be taught.”

  Through sheer Herculean effort, I kept my acidic remarks to myself. I stalked toward the library, where a dozen ravens loitered near the chimney. They cawed out in warning as I approached, informing their master of an incoming visitor. Nur attempted to regain my affection, but I wasn’t in the mood for petting. I had a few choice words for my evasive augur. Hissing in disgust, Nur thwacked his tail hard against my knees, nearly tripping me as he left.

  “Sorry, Nur,” I called belatedly, but like most cats, he didn’t seem inclined to accept my belated apology.

  The library required a specific combination of pith to open it. I didn’t bother to knock as I executed the sigils and flung the door wide open. The beam of afternoon light that struck Guntram’s dark-accustomed eyes startled him. He lifted his nose from a book, blinking rapidly, two other stacks of tomes surrounding him like little sentries.

  “Ina? You’re awake?”

 
I decided not to answer his rhetorical question. “Have you been here all day?”

  He adjusted a ribbon bookmark to hold his place, then shut the book. “I’ve been engrossed in my studies.”

  “So engrossed that you left me by myself in the hot spring?”

  “Sipho said Nur would watch over you.” He seemed confused by my anger. “I watched him drag your drooping head out of the water. You would not have drowned.”

  Well, that explained the sore throat, at least. Knowing Nur wouldn’t actually stick a paw in the water, he probably pulled me up by the nape of my tunic, which would have rubbed my throat raw. I’d probably need an additional soak just for that.

  “I’ve been out for a day,” I accused. “Weren’t you worried about me at all?”

  Guntram shrugged. “Not particularly. The afanc’s a relatively weak vaettur, minus the poison and front teeth, of course. It’s usually too slow to get close to a shepherd. You must have fallen for its playing dead trick.”

  I grimaced. That’s what I got for not properly identifying the local wildlife.

  Guntram continued, “Once I removed the poison, your water pith flowed freely enough. The hot spring took care of the rest. Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t up sooner. It shouldn’t have affected you this severely.”

  Something didn’t quite add up with his story. “Wait, Tabitha said you asked her and Darby to seal the breach. If the afanc is a wuss like everyone thinks it is, why would you care about sealing the breach immediately?”

  Guntram answered by deepening his frown. A breach created by a typical vaettur provided a window of time. It would take a week at the earliest before something else found its way through to our side. Guntram should have been able to bring me back to the homestead and seal it himself, no problem.

  Unless it wasn’t a normal breach.

  “It was a weirdo breach, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Guntram reluctantly admitted. “I have no idea why another one formed, especially when we haven’t found the air golem yet. It makes no sense.”

  I ignored his confusion, focusing on the bit that concerned me most. “And you called the Sassy Squad of all shepherds for backup?” I thought of how close we’d been to the ocean, and the shepherd who protected that area of coastline. “Why didn’t you ask Baot?”

  “Because he’s not there,” Guntram grumbled.

  Baot gone from the coast? He literally lived in the ocean. He told me himself that some days he only came up for air a handful of times per day. “If he’s not in the ocean, where could he be?” But as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew the answer. “He’s on Mt. Hood, too.”

  Guntram sighed. “Ina, we’re experiencing a very difficult situation, one that requires the utmost cooperation from all shepherds.”

  I pointed my finger accusingly at him. “Not all shepherds! What about me?”

  But I wouldn’t hear any more excuses. I stormed out of the library, slamming the door shut behind me. It caused the ravens on the library roof to take flight, cawing because I’d disturbed their master.

  CHAPTER 10

  I AVOIDED GUNTRAM for the rest of the day. He, too, didn’t seem keen on appeasing me. I really didn’t want to deal with him, but I was also offended that he didn’t come looking for me. Once I realized how stupid my conflicted emotions were, I decided to combat my mope-fest by checking up on Sipho.

  I found her inside the forge, tidying up her workbench by washing every available surface with a blackened rag. An empty knapsack lay discarded by the door, and both of her mountain lions sat upright at attention, watching her every move instead of napping.

  I’d seen this before. Sipho was prepping for a supply run. She grew, crafted, and fashioned almost everything around the homestead, but every so often, she had to scour the wilderness for rare resources for her various projects.

  “Ina!” she greeted as I slipped onto a stool. “I am glad to see you up and about.”

  “Thanks for lending Nur,” I said. The sound of his name brought the mountain lion over for a scratch behind the ears. Apparently, he’d forgiven me for my previous inattention. Not to be outdone, Kam snapped at him, shoving him out of the way to steal her own slice of petting.

  “Move along, you two.” Sipho whipped the rag in their direction. They leisurely sauntered away, as if it was their own idea in the first place. Sipho shook her head at them. “I swear they are worse than children.”

  They mewed pitifully, wide eyes sorrowful.

  “They just get antsy when you leave.” I moved a hammer off the worktable so Sipho could wash underneath it. “Where are you going, Sipho?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” She finished wiping and threw the rag into a wicker basket with other dirty laundry. “It has been a trying experiencing designing your lightning charm. I believe I’ve discovered the right etchings based on how you describe wielding the pith, but I can’t pinpoint any material to contain lightning in a stable form. I even tried reusing an old battery, but it would not hold a charge. I find this curious, since it had held lightning pith before, so I took it apart to examine its internal mechanisms.”

  Fear twisted my insides. “Sipho, you didn’t! Batteries are made up of all sorts of nasty chemicals. They could hurt you.”

  Sipho grinned. “I wish you would have told me that before I ruined my favorite gloves.” She shifted through the wicker basket and showed me one of her thin hide gloves with holes all throughout the sides and fingers. “The liquid ate right through.”

  I glanced down at the corresponding flesh on her fingers. “Did it touch your skin?”

  “Give me a little credit, Ina. I am smart enough to remove my gloves when something attempts to digest them from the outside.” She tossed them back into the wicker basket. “But what I really need is a way to create a battery that you can store lightning pith like a charm.”

  “Actually, they make stuff like that.”

  Sipho’s head snapped up. “You can?”

  “Sure, they’re called rechargeable batteries, but they wouldn’t work here on the homestead.” When she cocked her head at me with a puzzled expression, I continued to explain. “You have to plug them into an electric power source to recharge them. Modern houses have places where you simply plug the batteries into the wall and they charge themselves.”

  Sipho rubbed her chin. “I vaguely remember a record player at the orphanage when I was a child. It had a long cord with prongs that stuck into two strange holes in the wall.”

  Well, that gave me a better idea of Sipho’s age. She must have been a child of the 60s or 70s when she was recruited as a follower of Nasci. “Those two strange holes are called an outlet. They’re connected via wires to the city’s power grid to generate electricity on demand.”

  “Hmm,” Sipho’s forehead crinkled as she pondered this information. “A renewable power source.”

  “It’s a dead end, Sipho. You can’t create your own rechargeable batteries from stuff you find in the woods. That would take refined metals and materials that you’ve don’t have access to.” I grinned as a thought struck me. “In some ways, regular people have magic we shepherds don’t.”

  Sipho nodded solemnly at this statement. “Indeed, they do.” Then shaking her head, she stood back to her full impressive height. “In any case, I will be gone starting tomorrow for an indeterminate amount of time, searching for answers to the lightning charm riddle.”

  “Good luck,” I told her, although I didn’t actually think she’d get very far. Even after weeks of practicing, Guntram and I combined hadn’t found a way to control lightning. The goal was beginning to feel unsolvable.

  Sipho noticed my gloomy expression and gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Ina. The world does not end because we are faced with a challenge.”

  True, but my life seemed stacked a mile high with mysteries. Guntram’s secrecy. My own conspiracy with Rafe. Vincent’s jealousy. Now Tabitha had shown up to harass me. Somehow, lightning had bec
ome the least of my worries.

  * * *

  Despite other shepherds sleeping in the lodge that night, I decided to visit Rafe. I needed to update him about the afanc since it could be related to our next golem. Besides, I didn’t feel tired at all. Sitting in the hot spring for a day, while not exactly advisable if you’re in a coma, does tend to leave you fairly refreshed.

  I couldn’t pop into the lodge pool whenever I wanted, though. I had to make triple sure everyone had fallen asleep. Tabitha and Darby both settled down into rooms a few hours after sunset. Pressing my ears against their closed bedroom doors, I could hear their soft breathing. That left only Guntram, who also generally went to bed early.

  No such luck tonight, of course. I kept creeping over to the library, finding a light still burning, indicating he hadn’t left yet. As midnight approached, I almost marched into the library myself to demand he get some rest. Fortunately, he entered the lodge before I succumbed to that impulse. I laid unmoving on the straw mattress, listening to him make a cup of tea, then take absolutely forever to drink it. But finally, footsteps padded past my bedroom door, down the hallway, and a door clicked shut.

  Everyone had turned in for the night.

  I risked a trip to the common area. I retrieved the kembar stone and bracelet quickly enough but shoved them in my pocket. I soaked my feet in the lodge pool for a while, lingering just in case Guntram came back out for any reason.

  I stared through the window high above me, where the moon rose in the cloudless sky. Different cultures interpreted the dark splotches on its surface as various things: the man in the moon in America, the bunny pounding mochi in Japan. It looked like a lonely crab to me, scuttling across sand on an endless track, never reaching his destination. I imagined scooping the poor crustacean up and placing him back into the vast ocean of space, where he could be free again.

  I shook my head of such silly thoughts. I had real work to accomplish. Tossing the kembar stone into the pool, it glowed with a soft blue light. With an underwater breathing sigil, I teleported back to Rafe’s motel.