Awen Storm Read online

  **

  Shalane paced her room, furious at Patty, but even more so at herself. What had seemed a good idea at the time—bringing the girl along with her on tour—had proved to be a disastrous mistake. Cecil despised her, creating immense tension, and the girl always wanted something. Shalane had spent thousands of dollars on clothes and accessories, teeth whitening, a boob job, a high-end laptop, an iBlast, and a one-carat tennis bracelet. She’d finally put her foot down when Patty demanded a nose job.

  No longer was the girl the sexy, Marilyn Monroe-wannabe Shalane had been attracted to in that bar in California. Patty had acquired a patina, a polish that only money can provide. But her heart had hardened, too. In the beginning, she’d been grateful. And generous with her budding sexuality.

  But all that had gone by the wayside. By the second or third week, Patty had turned into a whiny, demanding sycophant. No wonder Shalane was turned off. But despite that, the girl was little more than a child. In a strange city. Disgusted that she cared, Shalane threw on a jacket and went after her.

  On Fire

  Maw strode down the corridor of the Agarthan stronghold, bound for Nergal’s old office. He and several others had been dispatched by Shibboleth to arrest Ishkur. The contingent scurried out of his way. He was Shibboleth’s right-hand warrior and a particularly nasty Draco in his own right.

  While here, they would shore up the compound and investigate the rumors about Nergal. Maw knew there was nothing to substantiate the reports. He and his twin, Mot, had beaten the worm to a bloody pulp. No way had Nergal survived that.

  Vice-Major Ishkur was another story. Shibboleth had spared him in Xibalba IX and now wanted Ishkur captured alive. But, Maw had other plans for the traitor. A thrill ran through him. He would rip the bastard from navel to nose.

  The Agarthan base was a losing proposition. The earthquake had dealt it a devastating blow. The magma no longer poured into the structure, but the Dracos had been unsuccessful in stopping its creep. The dungeons and lower levels were fiery pits, and it was only a matter of time before the upper levels conflagrated.

  Maw had directed relief efforts toward shoring up the chute system and defending it from further magma encroachment. The last thing he wanted was to get stuck in this hellhole. They had to keep the magma from crippling the worldwide chute system.

  He paced the Agarthan office, pondering his next move. Nergal’s minions had already searched the catacombs for survivors. A few had been rescued, the rest had either escaped into the city or been burnt alive. Or so they assumed.

  The human male child was no longer a priority, which was too bad. Maw’s mouth watered. He had a particular liking for human meat. The younger, and more fear-laced, the better.

  He called up the schematics for the base. A ping from his wrist unit signaled an incoming communication from the crew he’d sent into the city to apprehend Ishkur.

  “What is it?” he growled.

  “A Cerulean mercenary spotted Vice-Major Ishkur in a bar in Agartha. He was accompanied by the one called Inanna, and a petite Draca identified as a doctora from the city.”

  “Capture them and bring them to me,” Maw grunted

  “But sir,” the Draco barked before Maw could end the call. “The targets have escaped and the mercs are dead.”

  Maw roared. “That is not acceptable. Find them or you will be executed in their place.” He cut the communication, seeing red.

  His frustration mounted as he fiddled with the keyboard on the general’s console. The heat had affected the main computer brain, and the electronics were all going haywire. He resorted to contacting Shibboleth via handheld.

  Unable to get a connection there either, Maw dispatched a messenger to Irkalla and assigned a crew to repair and reroute the affected cables and circuits, and to replace those too damaged to reuse. He called up the security monitors and found they too were down.

  Maw slammed his fist into the Draco-proof monitor’s wavy lines. He was tired of doing nothing. But he was flying blind. Not only could he not see what was happening within the compound, but the chute station and the city were also dark.

  Reinforcing his arsenal from Nergal’s collection, Maw strode to the chutes. The platform occupants melted into the cracks and crannies, hiding from Maw’s fearsome rage.

  Elder Blessings

  Long had it been since Losgann had lain eyes on the Awen. Centuries, maybe. Or more. They had been locked in a life-or-death battle with a rogue agent of evil. Had the Awen, aided by the Elders and Dragons, not intervened, the entire populace would likely have been wiped out. This time their foe was less ethereal.

  Not all of the Reptilians were prone to violence, but most were blood-thirsty, ruthless, killing machines. This time there would be fighting. Not Losgann’s favorite pastime. But fight, they would. It was their collective duty. And destiny.

  He shifted positions, careful not to draw the attention of the dragons. Not that they would harm the frog Elder, or bother with him. But he remained at the edge of the jungle, rather than interrupting the Awen’s lesson.

  Losgann had been chosen by the Elders to confer the blessing of healing upon the Awen. And from the looks of her, she needed healing. The gashes on her face had closed nicely, but her spirit remained deeply wounded. On top of that, she was young and without experience in fighting evil. To this, Losgann would attend.

  As the day heated, the frog Elder napped, until he was jarred awake by the Awen’s querulous voice. “And exactly how is it we are supposed to get there?”

  “The way dragons always travel long-distance. By wormhole,” Draig Talav answered.

  Losgann was aware of these wormholes but had never traveled through one himself. It was said that to do so, one had to enter the wormhole through an earthly vortex. Such things were not of Losgann’s ken. But he listened with interest. One never knew when one might need to hitch a ride. Especially one as small as Losgann.

  Presently, Draigs Ooschu and Talav waded into the ocean and disappeared. The Awen stayed behind in a chair, chatting with the human Losgann assumed was the medicine man. He waited a while longer, but when the man showed no signs of leaving, Losgann decided it was time to approach.

  The old frog was bigger than most of his kind and covered the distance quickly. But Losgann didn’t care for sand, and it made crossing the beach a chore. When he reached the Awen, he croaked loudly—three short croaks, a pause, and three more.

  The Awen’s gaze locked with his. He could tell she didn’t recognize him, though her face lit up in greeting.

  He croaked again—three short, a pause, and three more.

  “Are you Losgann?” the Awen asked.

  This pleased Losgann immensely, though he knew she wasn’t sure. “Yes, my lady, I am.” He bowed and straightened. “It is good to see you again.”

  The brows arched and he hurried to add, “I can tell you don’t remember me. But I have come to convey a blessing upon you from the Elders and Goddess Brigit. May I approach?”

  The man cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair. “Hello, Losgann. I am Khenko, pleased to meet you.”

  “Aye,” Losgann responded. “The great crane, Corr, told me you helped heal the Awen. We are ever grateful. But there are some wounds only the Goddess can heal. I have come for this purpose.”

  The Awen and Khenko exchanged glances, then gave Losgann their attention.

  “I am honored,” the Awen said. “How would you have me receive this blessing?”

  “Head bowed, m’ lady. Eyes closed.” When she did as he’d said, Losgann hopped closer to sit on the top of her foot. The Awen barely moved at the added pressure. He was pleased with her restraint.

  Invoking the Goddess, Losgann sang his blessing, conferring hope and healing upon the Awen. When he was finished, he bade her look at him. The crystalline eyes glowed, all the thanks Losgann needed. With a wide smile, he coughed up the blessing stone. Gray, hard, and ridged, it was imbued with his wisdom and his magical powers, alo
ng with that of Losgann’s kind.

  “M’ lady, this blessing stone is for you. I have carried it for age upon age, awaiting your time of need. Though not much to look at, the stone holds powerful magic. It will provide added protection when you are in danger. And you can use it to call me and my kin in times of need.”

  The Awen’s eyes shone with tears. One fell on Losgann. Then another. They soaked into his sensitive skin, her return blessing. Losgann’s mission was complete. The Awen cradled his stone reverently in one hand and stroked it with the other.

  “Thank you, Losgann. I can feel the power pulsing within its depths. I shall cherish your sacred stone and keep it safe with the otter stone and Aóme. And should I be in need, I will use it to call upon you and your kin.”

  “You do me proud, m’ lady. I look forward to the day we fight together, side-by-side, as in days gone by. Until then, I bid you adieu. And you as well, Khenko Corr’s-Friend.”

  “Wait!” the Awen cried. “Can you help my friend, Brian? He is wandering the land beneath the earth, and the dragons refuse to help. Will you find him and help him get home?”

  Losgann croaked three times and turned in a circle. “It is done, Awen. I shall find your friend Brian and help him get home.”

  **

  Emily showered off the salt and sand and inspected her thin face in the steamy mirror. How much weight had she lost? She’d eaten little solid food since the earthquake and still didn’t have much of an appetite. Thank God for Khenko’s fruit and smoothies.

  She dressed in a borrowed tee-shirt and shorts and retired to her little bedroom. Closing the blinds, she drew the curtains against the sun and climbed in bed to pull the covers over her head. After her lessons with the dragons and meeting Losgann, her energy was spent.

  Emily rolled to one side, then flopped to the other. Though she was bone-tired, sleep wouldn’t come. She turned onto her back and stuffed a pillow beneath her knees, wishing she could see her chiropractor. Every joint in her body ached.

  Taking a deep breath, she let it out and sucked in another. She recited the Lord’s Prayer, then the Our Father, then focused again on her breathing. Nothing relaxed her keyed-up brain. She thought of Lugh MacBrayer and wished she could talk to him, then remembered Talav’s words in the cave. She had contacted her father. Why not Lugh?

  Sitting up, Emily leaned her back against the wall and breathed in deeply. She let it go and sent energetic roots to anchor in the earth and a cord up to the heavens. Grounded, she let her mind turn to Lugh, to the first time she had met him. Mitchell Wainwright had taken her to eat at Lugh’s restaurant, Jocko’s Pizza.

  The next time was at the carriage house when the druid leaders came to Wren’s Roost for Emily’s initiation. Then on the day the tornadoes ripped the roof off Jocko’s, Emily had fallen in love with the druid priest while weathering the storm in Jocko’s cellar with him and fifty other customers.

  A sofa appeared in her mind’s eye, the one in the upstairs library of Wren’s Roost. A fire blazed in the warm space, and a pair of candelabras lit the portrait of Awen. Emily studied the painting, seeing something she hadn’t noticed before. The second stone on Awen’s wand was blood-red. She shook her head and the vision disappeared. But she knew it was a sign of some sort.

  Starting, she realized Lugh was there. He was vague and far away, but he was there.

  “Lugh!” she called, moving closer. But there was someone leaning over him. Someone tall and imposing—Morgan Foster—Emily’s aunt and head of security for the Awen Order.

  “Aunt Morgan!” she yelled as loud as she could.

  Her aunt stiffened and seemed to look inward. Emily lifted her hand to wave, but something dark and dangerous separated from Morgan and moved menacingly toward Emily. Recoiling, she retreated and came out of meditation.

  Shuddering, Emily huddled under the thin bedspread covered in seashells. Something evil had a hold on Morgan. Did Morgan know? A coldness crept through Emily. What if Morgan was conspiring with the enemy? She had to find a way to tell Lugh.

  Access Points

  Ethnui shook the boy from sleep and passed him her handheld. Pointing to the file she had uncovered in the Draconian mainframe, Ethnui sat on the mat and peered over his shoulder to read with him.

  In India, there is still a strong belief in the reality of Nagas - a subterranean race of serpent people, or lizard men. Described as an advanced species with highly-developed technology, the Nagas harbor a disdain for human beings, whom they are said to abduct, torture, interbreed with, and even to eat. It is said that the Nagas wage war on humans from the subsurface kingdoms of Agartha and Shamballa.

  Brian glanced up at Ethnui. “This is talking about the Dracos, isn’t it?” His voice trembled, but not with excitement.

  “It has to be. The base where they kept you is called Agartha. So is the surrounding city.”

  “Whoa.” Brian’s eyes widened. “This looks like it was written in my world. But it has to be about the Reptilians. Does it say anything about how to travel between the worlds?”

  They kept reading.

  The Nagas reside in underground cities – the two major ones being Bhogavati and Patala. Patala is said to have an entrance below the Well of Sheshna in Benares, India. It has forty steps which descend into a circular depression and then terminate at a closed stone door covered in bas-relief cobras.

  There is another major mystical shrine in Tibet. It is said to sit atop an ancient cavern and tunnel system which reaches throughout the Asian continent and possibly beyond. This could be Bhogavati, in the Tibetan Himalayas.

  Brian groaned. “These places are on the other side of the world. How in Brigit’s name would we get there?”

  Ethnui hung her head. How indeed?

  “Anything else of use in this database?” He punched keys and clicked a link.

  “Like what?” Ethnui tugged the pad away. She didn’t like others to use her equipment.

  “Like anything about me? Or my family?”

  “Not much. Just that you are from the state of Utah, and your mom is in Bali, and your dad is missing…” Her voice trailed off when Brian’s face sagged. He looked hurt. “I’m sorry,” she offered, then went on quickly, “there’s also information about an evangelist named Shalane Carpenter. Ring any bells?”

  Brian nodded, dark brows knit.

  “And a little about an Emily Mayhall. Or was her name Ebby? I’d have to go back and look. It did say she is dating your uncle, though.” Ethnui paused again when Brian wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. Is this upsetting you?”

  Brian sniffed. “I was with Emily and my uncle when the quake happened. But keep going. What else is in there?”

  “That’s about it. I’ll see if I can find more information on the Nagas. Or Agartha.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “Here’s something,” she tilted the screen so they both could read.

  Agartha is a legendary city said to reside in the Earth's core. The mythical paradise of Shamballa is known by many different names by the Hindus, Chinese, Russians, and some Christian sects. Throughout Asia it is best known by its Sanskrit name, Shambhala, meaning 'the place of peace, of tranquility’.

  Brian snorted. “Well, that’s clear as mud. Is Agartha the home of evil lizard monsters, or the land of saints? If I wasn’t here in the thick of things, I wouldn’t believe a word. Where I come from, they would call this hooey, malarkey, and horseshit!”

  “Yeah,” Ethnui agreed. “To people in AboveEarth, a land down here is nothing more than fiction. Which makes it impossible for us to escape. But we will,” she added, determined more than ever to help Brian get home.

  “Is there more?”

  Ethnui swiped the screen. “Yes! Here it talks about the entrances.” She read aloud, hope growing.

  “There are allegedly several entrances to the Kingdom of Agartha throughout the world. Some are at planetary grid points—in-wells and out-wells of energy. As the Nagas have an affinity with water, the entrances to thei
r underground palaces are often hidden at the bottom of wells, deep lakes, and rivers.”

  “Wow,” they said at the same time.

  “I feel like we’re in a Jules Verne novel.” Brian stretched and his shadow grew larger on the cave wall.

  “I know what you mean. But that’s a good thing, right? Jules Verne would write us out of here.”

  “Good point.” Brian jumped up and danced in a little circle. “So, Mr. Verne, how would you get us out of here?”

  **

  The light was growing. Nathair snaked through the coarse grass at the edge of the sand, intent on finding Losgann. A familiar voice wafted to his druid hitchhiker and she whipped his head up.

  Was that Hamilton? Hamilton Hester? A rush of nostalgia overtook Alexis. Hamilton remained the love of her life, though he had slept with an untold number of women throughout their marriage. That she’d stolen the girl-heir he’d spent his adult years creating was only one of Alexis Mayhall’s sins. But it was by far the one that tortured her the most in life and death.

  Swinging her head to locate her ex-husband, she spied a dark-haired boy. Alexis moved closer to get a look at his face and jerked away in surprise. The boy was the spitting image of one of Hamilton’s many children. Shock reverberated through the snake’s body, and Alexis/Nathair regurgitated the field mouse she had devoured earlier.

  This didn’t make sense. That child would be an adult, older than Emily. Was this Ham’s grandson?

  “What do you think?” the boy was saying to his invisible companion. “Any idea how to get us home?” His expression changed and Hamilton Hester’s voice answered.

  “I’ve been pondering that. If the dragons are helping Emily, maybe they could help us, too.”

  “Dragons?” The expression changed back to that of the boy. “And how do you suppose we go about finding one of those?” The boy reared back and slung a stone into the surf.

  “I told you,” Hamilton said. “They’re with Emily. I tried to reach her again, but can’t get through. There is a veil I cannot see beyond. Nor can I connect with the dragons. I think we should try to find one of those entrances. We could be close to one now.”