Heavens crest, p.9
Heaven's Crest, page 9
part #2 of Dragon's Dream Series
She surveyed the crowd and pointed out a woman, young and beautiful, with sharp eyes. “You. Who are you?”
“I am Chases the Sun,” she replied, uncrossing her arms. She projected her voice well, with a confidence that Cora admired. “I take care of my father. He gets sick from something he was exposed to during the war.”
Cora bowed her head. “You fight for our past, those that gave everything for the air we breathe.”
She looked out at the thousand amid the fog. The morning sun peeked from the clouds, illuminating them in a halo of light.
“Each and every one of you must ask yourself what you fight for,” she continued. “Know what your reason is, and never forget it. Even as they tromp our fields, shed our blood, and kill our brothers and sisters, never let it go.”
The tribe responded with nods from the resolute among the group, while others cast their eyes down in a moment of soul-searching.
“I wanted to meet you here,” Cora said. “I wanted to show you this spot, because this is the most likely place they’re coming. The low, fog-set valley will make a great insertion point. We’re going to change that. Every person here will have a job to do, if you intend on fighting to the bitter end. I want to meet each and every one of you on your way out, even if only briefly. I know I just got here and many of you don’t know me. Some of you may have only heard stories about my father, and don’t think I have any right to be here. I will earn my place with you on the field of battle. With my help, we are going to push them back out of our lands, for good, this time!”
A resounding wave of cheers followed. People were getting amped up, their apathetic shuffling now a buzz of energy she needed to weaponize. The din of the crowd sounded primed for a call to war. As if taken by the spirit within her mind, she slammed her fist on the hood again. Words tumbled from her tongue before she could think them through.
“Now that we are poor, we are free. No man controls our footsteps. If we must die, we die defending our lands!”
A booming cheer and fists pumping into the air signaled her success. With a bow of her head, she turned and sat on the edge of the truck, waiting to greet everyone as they left. Sitting Bear stood beside her at the end of the truck, pride beaming in his smile. Her heart pounded in her chest as the adrenaline left her. A cold chill moved through her bones. She crossed every line that remained. The only thing left was to bring lethal force on her former colleagues if they dared set foot in Heaven’s Crest.
Bird in a Cage
The dragon sat in his seat across from Cora, rapt attention paid to her every word as she finished explaining her unifying speech. Tripping over her own slurred words, she pushed through the drugs. All the while, she stared at her blood-soaked shirt and meticulous stitching job the doctor had done with her bullet wound.
“Amazing,” Lucius said, shaking his head in awe. “If we must die, we die defending our lands...that’s a quote from Sitting Bull himself, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” Cora replied with a sigh. The restraints made her chest feel tight.
“His words coming right out of your mouth like that,” the dragon remarked. “These magical artifacts are really something.”
“Yeah, I love having the memories of a dead man rattling around in my head,” Cora said, her attempt at sarcasm came in monotone, her words slurred as though drunk.
She stared at the floor. If he were anyone else, she’d expect to be dead soon. She couldn’t even remember getting shot. With Lucius, he got a doctor to come and fix the same wound he made. Instead, he wanted a chit-chat.
“So, how did you feel, knowing your father was alive?” Lucius asked, getting up from his chair.
Cora tried to roll her shoulders, but the plastic bindings trapping her in the chair made it difficult to get comfortable in any position. The drugs created a mental fog that bogged down her mind and clouded her emotions. She was uncomfortable in every way imaginable.
“It was bitter,” she said, tripping on her words. “He’s there, but he’ll never wake up.”
“What of your name? Shall I call you Raven now?” Lucius asked.
Cora raised an eyebrow. “That’s my tribal name. For you, Cora will do fine.”
“Of course, as you wish,” Lucius replied.
He came back from outside her field of vision, carrying two glass tumblers between three fingers on his one hand, a bottle of Jack in the other. He sat down and unscrewed the cap while deep in contemplative thought.
“I don’t want you to think me cold,” Lucius said, his heavy voice reverberating throughout the small cottage. “I’ve never taken joy in hurting you and I never will.”
“I don’t believe that,” she replied. “You got all your answers, now it’s time to let me go, so I can get back there. I need to fight them, to stop this.”
Lucius sighed. He set down the glasses on the wood floor beside his chair, then the bottle. As he got up and moved toward her, his right hand shifted and popped. His fingers extended, and long, pointed nails grew with it. The skin of his arm darkened to gray, tinted with crimson. Scales covered the flesh on the back of his hand. The change mesmerized her, like Giovanna’s shapeshifting abilities always had.
With the swipe of a finger, his claw slashed into the plastic restraint on her left wrist, then her right. She met his gaze, a satisfied smile on his face as though proud of the favor he had bestowed. She wanted to slap the look right off him, but apathy drowned out her impulsive desires.
“It appears the Trillozine is doing its job,” he said. He held up his arm and stared at it, willing it back to a human form. “I don’t think we need these restraints anymore, right? Would you like a drink?”
Cora rubbed her wrists, then reached out a trembling hand. “You’re not letting me go, are you?”
“I can,” Lucius replied, picking up the tumbler and setting it in her hand. “As I said, I need information, and certain concessions from you.”
Cora groaned in frustration. “I’ve told you everything, and I can’t imagine anything I have to give that you would want. You want the magical artifact back?”
Lucius shook his head and sat down. “No, of course not. The imprint of Sitting Bull has joined with you now, I doubt taking the artifact back would change anything about that.”
Cora shot back the healthy double of whiskey and wiped her mouth on her blood-crusted forearm. Her other hand went to the feathers in her hair. “I still don’t understand why you did it. I would have stayed away. I would have lived my life and enjoyed what’s left of my family and never returned to the NSA.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Lucius replied, sipping from his glass. He reached down at his side and pulled the bottle back up, gesturing it to Cora. “Unfortunately, I know a great deal about how you and I got here, and where we’re going. It seems you don’t know yet, so that will be a lesson learned in time.”
Cora shrugged, grabbing the bottle and settling in for a long interrogation. “That doesn’t make any sense. Do you have someone giving you prophecies, too?”
“Of a sort,” Lucius nodded with a knowing grin. “Suffice to say, you and I will go round and round like this for the foreseeable future. At Project Phoenix, you won the day. I’ll admit it, you looked me right in the eye and beat me, despite everything I threw at you.” Lucius’ eyes turned cold and serious. “Today, it’s my turn.”
Cora looked down at her bullet wound, sewn shut by Lucius’ doctor. It had already turned a brownish purple, like a fading bruise. Her regeneration was hard at work, it seemed. It was yet another thing in a long list of what she didn’t understand about the world. She turned her ear to the room, her mind so scattered it was difficult to focus on the ambient noise. Men talked outside, likely Bauer Securities soldiers. Fingers tapped in a rhythmic beat against a wooden table in some room she couldn’t see from the chair, a hacker if she ever heard one. Cora took in a deep breath and let out a defeated, exhausted sigh.
“What else do you want?”
“Intelligence in your part of the world is so hard to come by, Cora,” Lucius replied. “My men were lucky to locate you and bring you to me. They acted fast when they got a visual on you. I was impressed.
“What I don’t know is what started this little standoff. You say the NSA was going to send in a black ops squad and take your father by force. Now we have UNS Army soldiers crossing the Demilitarized Zone, again at the brink of war. How did we get here?”
“They attacked. We defended our lands,” Cora said, lifting her hands.
“The next day?” Lucius asked. He folded one leg over the other and sipped his drink.
Cora shook her head. “No. I met with the tribe, explained the dangers of what was coming, and we started preparing our defense. I spent a few days with my uncle, having him teach me everything he knew about magic to help me control my powers better.”
Lucius wagged a finger. “See? You’re holding back on me.”
“There isn’t much interesting to tell,” Cora replied.
“Indulge me,” Lucius replied. “Spare me no detail. After all, your father’s life depends on it.”
Up To Speed
Cora stood in the wooded clearing beside the campfire as Sitting Bear stoked it. The smell of grilled chicken taunted her. She peeked from the corner of her eye, admiring the sweating juices on the surface of the chicken breasts as they grilled on a rack over the flames. It was enough distraction that she turned her head, breaking her concentration.
“Eyes forward,” Sitting Bear ordered. “Keep your focus. I want to see this.”
Cora outstretched her arm, her hand turned up. She pulled and tugged at the magic within her, dragging it out for the fifteenth or twentieth time today. The energy moved through her like a slithering snake, coalescing in her upturned palm as a ball of orange light. Once it grew to the size of a baseball, she wrapped her fingers around it and held it. She took aim a dozen yards in the distance and threw it. The orb shattered like glass upon striking the ground, then exploded in a concussive shockwave of energy and wind, like a tiny supernova. Leaves burst into the air and swept away from the ground, leaving a circular patch of naked earth where the ball landed.
“That’s it?” Sitting Bear asked.
“Well, yeah,” Cora replied, turning around. “It’s one of the most powerful spells I have.”
“Spells?” Sitting Bear repeated with a condescending snicker. “I have a broom back at the house, if you want to replace your Harley.”
Cora put her hands on her hips. “Har-har. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”
Sitting Bear motioned to the impact crater of her Stunbomb. “That magic over there. The raven above us. The earth you stand upon. Magic is the binding force that connects all of it. When you bring the magic out, what form it takes is what you demand of Gaea. You’re not casting spells like a witch, you’re transforming the world around you with your perception.”
“So, I make wishes come true? I’m not a witch, I’m a damned genie?” Cora asked.
Sitting Bear sighed and shook his head. “For centuries, eastern oral traditions taught of the third eye. Are you familiar?”
“Yeah,” Cora nodded. Eastern mythology was a fascinating class, dissecting the tales of the ancient world and separating out what was fable and the true magic lost between Awakenings.
“When your eyes shift to the spirit world, you’re using your mind’s eye to perceive the threads of magic that bind this world. Can you sense the raven?” Sitting Bear asked.
Cora looked up over her shoulder. “Yeah, I know exactly where the little bastard is.”
“Borrow his sight,” Sitting Bear challenged her. He leaned forward, turning the chicken over on the rack to reveal beautiful, diamond-shaped grill marks. “You have a bond with him. Use the threads that bind you like a limb. See the world through his eyes.”
Cora turned and stared at Vincent for a moment. Shutting her eyes, she considered how to begin. Richard’s training method had her approaching new spells like a math problem - gather the elements, figure out what she was trying to do, and then solve the equation. Sitting Bear’s training was more philosophical and cerebral. He explained what he wanted, but nothing of how to accomplish it. She started from within, feeling out the core of magic stirring in her guts, and extended it to her fingertip. From there, she was lost, as though the road led to a brick wall.
Cora grunted and opened her eyes. “I don’t have a clue how I’m supposed to do that. Have you done it? I don’t know how to make the magic go beyond my body.”
Sitting Bear waved her over. “I’ve trained others who could, like your father did before me, though I’m a poor substitute. But, you’re tired and getting frustrated. Sit and eat.”
“Gladly,” Cora replied, walking back to the fire to receive a plate.
“Perhaps later, we’ll make some mushroom tea and get you more familiar with it,” he explained.
“No!” Cora snapped. She collected herself and lowered the volume of her voice. “I mean, no. I’ve had boyfriends that saw less of me than your toilet has, and I’m not about to have you rescue me from another skinny-dip with some water spirit.”
Leaves crumpled somewhere behind her. They were supposed to be alone. Cora shoved the plate back into her uncle’s hand and spun on her toes, her hand reaching under her bomber jacket to the waistband of her jeans. By the time recognized Living Wind walking up the steep incline, her fingers were already laced around the pistol grip.
“Hey, Raven!” he shouted up to her in his perky, optimistic voice. He was blissfully unaware of the baseball-sized hole he almost got in his chest.
Cora let out a breath, her muscles relaxing as tingles moved through her. The rush of adrenaline, much like her magic, had to be controlled and mitigated by force of will. She tried to remind herself that no one in town was trying to kill her yet.
“You can still call me Cora,” she replied. She turned back to her uncle and grabbed her plate back with an apologetic bow.
“Really?” Living Wind replied, climbing the last few feet to the clearing. “I worked hard to prepare for my naming ceremony. I haven’t heard the name ‘Edwin’ in years.”
“I’ve joined the tribe. I haven’t stopped being who I am,” Cora said with a dismissive wave. “No need to stand on ceremony.”
“Chicken?” Sitting Bear asked, grabbing another plate in preparation.
Living Wind shook his head. “Smells great, Elder, but no. I gotta get back. I came to tell you that the southeast checkpoint is now fully staffed, like Cora said. Two guys in the open at the gate, twelve snipers on either side of the ridge, round the clock. Also, we got those buses in position, like you asked.”
“Good,” Cora replied, ripping pieces of her chicken and putting it in her mouth as she took a seat on the log bench. “Did you hear from Highway Patrol?”
Living Wind shrugged. “I talked to them, yeah. They gave us camera feed access and said they’d keep a lookout. You don’t really think they’d take I-90, though, do you?”
“No,” Cora shook her head. “But if this becomes public, that’s the route the UNS is going to have to send their military through. Armored vehicles and drone vans aren’t going to take back roads into here. Their maps haven’t been updated since the war. The Chicago Accord won’t let them have satellites over Native territory.”
Living Wind glanced at Sitting Bear, then back to Cora and laughed. She didn’t find the humor in anything she’d said. Cocking her head to the side, she awaited his explanation.
“I’m sorry, Cora,” Living Wind wiped the smile from his face. “It’s just that you’re really good at this. We’re a bunch of country folks, you know? And here you are, some worldly secret agent. It’s so sleek.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Cora asked.
Living Wind chuckled and nodded back. “Yeah, that’s a good thing. Anyway, I wanted to let you know since I was passing through. I’m heading up to the northeast checkpoint now. See you guys later!”
Sitting Bear nodded with a bitter, yet proud smile. Cora caught it from the corner of her eye, and it spoke volumes to her. Sitting Bear knew the story of Living Wind’s fate. The thought of it made knots in her stomach. It was like everyone she’d met in the tribe had accepted their vision from Pops as gospel, the end of their lives a foregone conclusion they needed to come to grips with. She shook her head to herself, ripped off a last bite of chicken, and chased Living Wind down the hill.
“Hey, wait up,” she shouted.
Living Wind turned around, leaning against a tree branch to maintain his balance on the hill. Cora caught up quick, settling on the same young tree.
“Listen,” Cora said, unsure how to begin. “Once the time comes...once this starts, I mean...I want you to sit it out, okay?”
“What?” Living Wind replied. With his twisted face, she’d have thought she made a slight about his mother.
“Your fate is your own,” she explained. “You don’t have to prove anything. You can do what you want.”
“No, I’m no coward,” Living Wind replied, shaking his head. He pushed his fingers through his hair. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought. “I can’t fight fate. So I’ll fight beside you.”
“You’re a goddamned idiot,” Cora said, her brow furrowed. “You already saw what happens if you fight.”
Living Wind shook his head. “Maybe it’s today, maybe it’s days from now. Raven, we’re the first generation of Awakened Native people born of Native people in hundreds of years. Someday, we’ll be known as the most powerful race of magic-users on the planet. This is our home. These are our lands.”
“History doesn’t exactly favor us,” Cora replied, raising her voice. “You start down this path, you know it ends.”
“I’m not starting down a path,” he said. He put his hand to Cora’s shoulder. “I was always walking this way. Leaving this fight wouldn’t be who I am.”
