Percy replies, “When we were on the roof, Adriel seemed to pull the wind from somewhere behind him and threw it at Isabel. Perhaps he subconsciously detected a pocket of warm air and pulled the cooler air in.”
Quilici’s turn. “Adriel, I want you to concentrate and sink into yourself, finding that electrical pulse, and see if you can work from there. Perhaps your body will show the way.”
I instinctively want to dismiss these ideas with sarcasm, but I know what they say is a road to truth. I decide that sitting down is best and cross my legs, assuming a meditative position with palms resting and up. I breathe deeply, listening to the air fill and empty in my lungs as my body grabs the oxygen for consumption. I move through the arteries and into my heart where I once again find the electrical charge that gives me life. I time the intervals perfectly and take the spark, releasing it as my skin feels the unbridled heat seer from the inside, trying to discover an escape. It flows through me and I have never felt so empowered or alive as I wonder how to use it to my advantage.
Without thought, I reach back with my hands and connect with the ambient energy, forcing it into servitude by vibrating its molecules until they are unified with mine. I then pull with my hands and a tethered pocket of thermal energy is slung forward with such speed that the cooler air rushes in the vacuum with cyclonic force. The roaring wind strips all the branches of their newborn leaves and they bend backward to its power with a creaking of resistance. Our hair shoots straight back and I shout with exhilaration, knowing that no one will hear me over the chainsaw sound of this mini-tornado.
Quilici leans into the gust, trying not to roll away, and grabs my shoulder to get my attention and lip-syncs, “Stop… NOW!”
I hear the words in my mind and shut down my personal mechanism for air displacement in an instant as the remnant of wind trails off with a diminished howl. The silence is shared by the mountain and us as we try to process the enormity of what just happened. Percy is the first to speak. “How did you do it?”
I gather my strength and stand up, spaghetti legged, tumbling backward and landing on my back like an exposed turtle. Now that’s embarrassing. I’m depleted and exhausted from the effort, so I remain where I am, resolved to enjoy the power nap, but Quilici has different plans. He gives me a gentle boot to the leg and says, “Wake up, sleepy head. We have guests coming soon.”
I creak open my eyes and generate enough energy to force air through my vocal chords, but try to choose words carefully so I can articulate the experience. Regrettably, he gets the laymen’s version. “I just used my own electricity to heat the air and pulled it, creating a vacuum. I didn’t really pull the cool air, but provided a space for it to fill. Does that make sense?”
Percy combs her fingers through her hair and replies, “It does in a strange mixed blood/fae/vamp/cave-dweller kind of way.”
“Why, Percy, I do believe I’m rubbing off on you,” I retort with victory.
She gives a rolling eyed humph and, facing Quilici, continues. “He needs to rejuvenate rather quickly because we only have forty-five minutes until the meeting. I advise you
not
to push him and let him rest until it is imperative that he use his gifts again. Also, we should keep in mind that when it is over he may have to be carried out of here so we will require an alternate plan of escape.”
I interject, “I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m not leaving my new favorite toy to those pricks.”
Quilici considers my statement and says, “I believe he will have enough willpower to do what needs to be done, but we should be diligent and create a Plan B. Adriel, while we work this out, I need you to think of a way to blunt your weapon.” I look quizzically at him. “You can manipulate the air to be a gush of wind, but we need you to expand the air pocket to such an extent they will only feel the tickle of a gentle breeze. Can it be done?”
“Of course it can.” I accept it as a challenge and realize that I’ve been had. He knew that I would, clever, clever waer.
Thirty-five minutes pass and I’m still figuring out how it will be done when he shifts attention to me and says, “Well?”
“I feel good and rested, but have no clue what I’m going to do, so I’m just going to give it a try and hope that instincts are more appropriate than thinking.”
“Now is the time. I suspect they will be here within ten minutes. No pressure, but our success relies on you,” he says with a smirk.
I recall those many years training in martial arts when, at first, all I would do is rehearse a series of moves in my mind until it came time to actually engage in controlled combat. When my opponent would make a certain move, I would counter from my rehearsed arsenal, but it took years of training before I could fight without thought, as it became a part of me. My body and thought developed perfect harmony. I can already feel the difference between the first time I accidently discovered this little talent of mine, but it continues to demand attentive practice.
I dive into myself and quickly go through the routine until I reach out and sense the heated air that surrounds me. The connection remains tenuous and I think of a balloon. I could never blow one up from the tight and thin opening because I only used the shallow excess air in my mouth. Finally, after several attempts, I realized that it required the air deep from my lungs and the balloon reacted immediately. I yawningly breathe and without focused power exhale, allowing the energy to expand, naturally connecting with a pocket that engulfs the entire area. Somehow the air starts to vibrate and buzz with warmth to emulate my own personal storage and I give the air a gentle nudge in my direction, feeling its reaction as if it’s trying to please me. Like water flowing into empty spaces, the cool air strolls in with a delicate draft. This is so much easier than creating a weapon out of the wind, as the effort is less demanding, so I open my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me, and respond with tranquility.
Turning to see my friends, I notice they are caught in the same moment, with minds lost to a gentle message caressing their faces and blithely ruffling Percy’s thin coat. We all awaken from it and see each other in a different perspective—one that isn’t mired in calculated strategies of blood and war, but born from friendship. When a battle is thick and death may be imminent, it isn’t an ideology that gives one the courage to sacrifice life; it’s the soldier beside him. It’s his friends that he is willing to die for because, in the end, that’s all that truly matters. I’m glad that I have some that are worth it.
Well, look at that, I had a moment.
It ends as suddenly as it began when all of us catch the downwind scent of vampires and waers. Quilici crouches to the ground, seeking refuge in the shrubs and says, “Here they come; get ready. The vampires are moving toward us from the north and the waers from the northeast. From this point on, no spoken communication and, Adriel, keep the winds moving.” Percy is already in a prostrate position with scope focused, attention zeroing in on her new targets while I shift to make certain the next half hour or so is comfortable.
From the edge of the thicket, Caedmon appears with his two bodyguards leading the way, Nora and Reuben. She is dressed in blue jeans and a heavy metal T-shirt as if Caedmon rerouted her on the way to a Metallica concert. Her stare continues to lack any hint of life as she scans the perimeter with cold-hearted precision, almost ho-humming another evening’s mission to kill. All seven feet of her partner noiselessly inches his way out of the foliage, stalking an invisible prey with a yellow glow in his predator’s eyes. His brown cargo pants and black tank top snugly stretch around his hulking frame, bulging with the details of muscle as he stops about a hundred feet north of us, his nostrils flaring and head tilted up, attempting to gather information from the forest. Caedmon meanders to the center with the confidence of a secure leader who has no fear of threat or enough arrogance to be ignorant of it and relaxes while he waits for their guests.
Nora speaks. “They are here.” It is short and sweet, but her voice is like gravel churning in her throat mixed with a kid trying to play baritone for the first time, spurting off-key notes. I hope she doesn’t speak again. All three of them focus on the opposite edge from us and our gaze joins theirs as Hanz and Franz slowly walk out of the grey darkness together. My heart skips a beat with a sudden shot of adrenaline, giving me an extra urge to kill them. I feel the gargantuan hand of Quilici on my right shoulder as he shakes his head. Damn, I resign to his request and turn back to the opening in the field, as Hanz and Franz are now both directly opposite of Nora and Reuben. Incredibly, the tension isn’t as thick as I would have thought. The only waer who is psychotic enough not to have any natural fear is Caedmon, but his lack of concern is due to conceit. It is a casual meeting until Seth walks through the brush, and that is the catalyst to infuse some anxiety into the party.
Caedmon speaks. “What is this? It’s always two guards AND no more. Why are you here, Seth?”
Seth doesn’t respond and moves to the side as a good soldier makes way for his commanding officer, standing in partial attention when Cassius walks through. This time I hear Percy’s heart jump into overdrive and nervously wonder if one of the waers can hear it. Cassius says with silky voice, “I fully understand our agreement, Caedmon, but there are other issues that demand my attention, and for the sake of convenience, I allowed one extra. I hope this is not a problem for you?”
The question wasn’t a question, but a hidden threat and Caedmon responds, “I’ll approve it this time, but let’s not make this a habit.” Ouch! Either Caedmon is very stupid or much more powerful than any of us imagined; I’m betting on the former rather than the latter.
Cassius is holding back a lashing of rage and filters through steady words. “I appreciate your generosity, my
young friend
, but I will
never
seek your approval
and
I advise you to speak to me with the respect that accompanies a vampire that has killed so many of your kind! Although I appreciate the role you have played so well through the years, don’t ever think of yourself as my equal. You are here because I have allowed it and you have your newfound authority because I have given it.” The situation intensifies as Seth fondles his belted sword, readying for battle, when Cassius nonchalantly continues. “But let us dispense with these elevated feelings of hostility; we are on the same team, after all. What is it that we need to discuss, Caedmon?” Seth allows his right hand to drop away from the sword’s hilt and the thick intensity dissipates to a lower-grade viscosity.
Caedmon realizes his error in judgment and decides that dismissing the conversation is the easiest means to save face. “I have planted the seed of doubt within our pack, and, as all interesting gossip does, it has spread throughout our global community like wildfire. Quilici is now suspected of being the mastermind behind millennia of secret deals that will threaten the waer and vampire existence. The world is concerned that the young one, Adriel, is his discovery and that somehow he will use his strange abilities to usurp all of our authority.” He spasms with laughter. “There are some who are saying that Quilici actually killed his predecessor and claimed the Alpha position as part of this scheme.”
Cassius replies, “Hmmm, this is even better than I expected. I have
carelessly
let slip that we have found evidence that the vampire killings were not appropriated by waers, but by our own. It was a small step to presume the guilt of Percy and Adriel, as he was already under great suspicion. Now that Quilici has been outcast from his long relationship with Percy and knowledge of Adriel, the rumor mill is, forgive the pun, electric with conspiracy theories. Their words will never have gravity in our tribe.”
“What will we do with Percy and Quilici?”
“We kill them! They have no use now and can do nothing but hinder our progress.”
“But I have an intuition that there is something beyond young love with Percy and Adriel. Is that worth investigating?”
Cassius thoughtfully considers the request and answers parentally, “I think you are correct, Caedmon, and this speaks well of your intuitions, but she has no value to our plan and pursuing another tangent will only cause an unnecessary distraction. We must kill her.” The moment is long and I can feel the sweat bubbling on my forehead from the exasperating struggle of holding the wind for so long. I turn to Percy and give her a nonverbal cue that my reserves are almost entirely depleted, and before the thought is processed, my body gives in. The breeze shifts direction as I collapse my head on the cool grass.
Caedmon continues. “Finally, we will reach our quest for…” He abruptly stops mid-sentence and raises his nose to the air, inhaling all he can, and says, “We are not alone!”
Reuben is already in action, moving to our location, and Hanz and Franz follow. A nanosecond before our departure, I see Seth by Cassius’s side, making sure that the odds are even as Nora remains as a counter measure. I burst from the ground with a blur of speed, only to be caught by Percy several hundred yards south down the trail due to my exhaustion. Percy says, “Adriel, you must run. Let’s go!”
The urgency is obvious through her strained voice, but I have nothing left to give and lean one-handed on an oak tree, panting heavily. I say between breaths, “I’m… sorry, I can’t… go… on. Go… without me.”
She gives Quilici a sharp look and darts her eyes to the three quickly approaching targets. They have an unspoken agreement as Quilici scoops me over his shoulder with one hand and launches forward with the torque only his muscled legs could create. I’m being jostled and bounced from his shoulder, pounding the air out of my lungs with every heavy step, as he rapidly negotiates the rutted trail. At this speed, it takes several seconds and we are near the entrance of the park when my body sends me a signal. I ache all over with a cold sweat like a deadly strain of the flu has invaded my system and my heart flutters with fear. I look for answers, realizing that Percy is nowhere to be found, and with a mild panic forcing its way into my congested throat, I yell to Quilici, “Where is she? I feel like she’s hurt!”