Thunder: The Shadows Are Stirring (Thunder Stories Book 1) (39 page)

“Shouldn’t we go now, then?”

“No. We need to keep an eye on Maddix a little longer before we send them off. And we both need the fuel. There’ll be challenges ahead.”

We wait around a half an hour for Maddix to regain consciousness, using that time to clean ourselves as much as possible and scarf down some rolls and chicken. We verify what he remembers, fill in the blanks, and check on his hand. The skin is already closing. We reapply some goop and wrap it in fresh bandages. Half of his thumb and his whole index finger are saved. I stare into his face, making sure he comprehends what we’re telling him. And he surprises me.

He shrugs his shoulders and says, “My dad was missing his little finger, and he was still the best Healer around. Now, I’ll have the chance to be even better.”

Well. With that attitude, Maddix is well on his way to bringing more than one kind of healing to this world. We make sure the two of them are ready to travel. I strap Maddix’s arm to his chest in a tight sling, to keep it from getting jostled, and double check that Storm’s harness is positioned correctly. I have to smile when I see he still has that blasted bell. It drove us all crazy in Faisle.

Maddix hugs both of us, and I kiss the top of his head—which he doesn’t shy away from. I hope there’s someone who can take care of him; he’s a special kid. I kneel down to hug Storm and whisper “be safe” in his ear. Maddix pats Storm’s head and wraps his left hand around the strap. They disappear before my final call of goodbye is carried away by the chilly breeze.

“Well, onward-ho, I suppose.” I gesture towards the faint trail. I have no idea where all the paths here lead, but they seem to wind all over the mountain face. I’m picking us through where it feels right to go. Ethan doesn’t question my choices; he just makes sure I’m choosing the path with my instinct, not necessarily my brain. Odd, I know, but that’s how this seems to work.

The sun is sinking low in the sky when I am struck with a pain so nauseating I double over. Never have I felt anything this excruciating; it’s as if my soul is trying to strip away from my body. Nearly being Riven was not this bad. Ethan’s hand comes tight against my shoulder, drawing me closer to him. I hear his sharp gasp but can focus on nothing but the pain and, strangely, the warmth of my necklace against my throat. When he swears, I force myself to look up.

Straight ahead of us on the crest of a slight hill, in the light of the dying sun, stands the tall, long-haired creep. The thought crosses my mind that, if he is here, he is not with my brothers. And a half-formed thought—understanding, even—comes to fruition in my mind. Then, I notice a ripple in the space next to Creep’s left, where the air seems to have jelled into a solid. A strange warping of my vision?

Hardly.

Just behind the man are the shadows of many, many creatures. I can’t make them all out; there are too many. Wolves, salamanders, snakes, people, beasts, and horrors. The embodiment of nightmares. Ethan’s muscles twitch and tense, like he’s about to take off. Forcing myself to stand, I swallow to keep down my ill-fated lunch. I step to Ethan’s side and place my hand against his arm to restrain him, not removing my eyes from the horrific view in front of me. Creep leers down at us, his thin lips pulled back in a mocking smile. Not one creature makes a sound, which is almost worse than if they were all calling out at once.

Beginning to step forward, the man stops, awkwardly frozen in place, his foot still raised. A blast of frigid air comes hurling through the area, forming a vortex around him, a wall around the dark creatures. Another gust, warm this time, encircles Ethan and me, and I get the sensation of something brushing across my cheek in a type of caress. Soft and feathery. And filled with sorrow.

Ethan gapes around, but his eyes never wander to the air-jell area. It strikes me that he can’t see it, but his face is drawn; he can sense something more than the absolute evil staring down at us.

“Olivia?” His voice cracks around my name.

“Can you feel it?”

Without turning to me, he tugs up his sleeve and shows me the goose bumps that have prickled across the surface of his skin. We seem to have some borrowed time. I train my attention fully on the boy at my side. Twisting, I stare up at him. Memorizing. His eyes are still locked on Imobi-creep.

“Ethan. Hey. Look at me.” His eyes meet mine with a reluctance that shows he’s afraid of what he might find. I clear my throat. I can only pretend to myself for so long. “This is it. This is what we’ve both been trained for. It’s time.” His swallow is audible in the silence. I have made the choice I need to get through this. I hold his eyes, willing him to understand, knowing he will because he knows me. And, in that moment, I realize I love him so much there is less room for the fear inside of me. I tuck the feeling down deep within my being, down to where no one, nothing, can take it from me.

Unspoken, I call to Thunder. Heart to heart. Soul to soul. He’d said he’d come if there was a need. He doesn’t fail.

When I hear the whinny, Ethan’s face flashes his distress. His features harden in defiance before dropping into an unwilling acceptance.

“This,” I say gently, gesturing to the creep and his army, “is not for you. Please.” We are inches apart and I can’t turn away. My stomach flips over, like I’ve crested a hill too fast, and my heart is racing. I have to blink back tears.

Which takes all of my willpower.

With the loss of that, it’s both easy and natural to lean forward onto the tips of my toes, my fingers tracing the lines of his face. His cheeks, his jaw. Ethan’s green eyes grow dark and his head dips down. My pulse is now doing a full sprint as I tilt up my face, letting my lips brush over his, firm and warm. His arms slip around me, pulling me close, fingers in my hair, and for one sweet moment we are just that boy and girl. A feeling I wish I could keep with me forever. Right here, in the middle of crazy, Ethan has given me another part of himself, something that can anchor me. Pulling me into a fierce hug, he whispers against my ear.

“I’ll get them, Livs; they will make it back home. And we’ll wait there. For you.” His words echo in my head as he backs away and mounts Thunder.

I realize he will not move from the area until I do. Thunder’s eyes show sadness and understanding. And love. We need no words. I turn around, sprint through the warm wind-barrier, cross into the cold, and race to fix what I can. Wholly intact.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Feeling the Heat

(ETHAN)

“
E
THAN
. Hey. Look at me,” she says. Her voice is quiet and I want to ignore her words.

Because I know exactly what she wants, what I will need to do. And it rips me apart.

But this is the reality of the situation. My job as a Guardian is protecting Olivia. Right now protecting her is protecting the lives of her brothers. If they die as a result of their link to her, or as Olivia would see it, simply
because
of her, she would be worse than dead herself. And, at that instant, the Sliders would have won because they’d own her soul. All I can do now is give her the hope to make it through, to keep her intact, so she can focus on closing the rift.

I dip my head and see the truth of it reflected in her eyes, warm and golden and full of pain. She stands on tip-toe, touching my face with her strong fingers, and I hold still, my breath catching in my throat. But I can’t help lowering my head and inside I’m kicking myself because I hadn’t wanted to start anything with her in the middle of all of this and now I know it doesn’t matter. I’m already too far gone and there’s no stopping how I feel.

Her lips press against mine and her mouth is incredibly soft and sweet. I pull her closer to me, liking how she fits.

Over the last few weeks, I have realized my world feels right-side up when Olivia’s with me. Or maybe it’s just when she’s with me, it doesn’t matter if things are sideways. I draw her even tighter and promise to deliver what she needs most in the world: her brothers. I hope she understands she’s taking a part of me with her to wherever she goes from here. Then I let her go. She steps away, giving me one last heart-stopping glance.

I jump onto Thunder’s back but do not leave until I watch her race away, through whatever protective barrier it was that had surrounded us. In the open and absolutely vulnerable.

The creep’s foot is just coming down when Olivia tackles him, knocking him to his left, off his hilltop perch. And I watch still as she bursts into a thousand specks of light and disappears from sight. I don’t pay attention to the fact that Creeper’s red shards were the first to dissipate.

I turn my back on the scene that will soon erupt into chaos. As Thunder roars through the dusky sky, I miss the rallying cry of the Dwellers and their champions as they prepare to rush headlong into a battle that will make or break the world.

It’s cold and my eyes are streaming, but in the distance—and approaching all too rapidly —is a grouping of huge cone-shaped mountains. I take a deep calming breath and, since it doesn’t work much, I try again. This time picturing Olivia and the way she looked right before we kissed.

Thunder rumbles low in his chest.
Easy there, boy. You’re thinking deeper than you need to.

Aw, bugger it. I can feel the flush creep up my neck. Since when can he read minds?

A snort from Thunder blasts through the air. A horse laugh. Hell.

It’s alright, lad. And she’s a fine choice. But she’s as good as a daughter to me, just as you are a son. Treat each other with kindness and respect, and I’ll let the both of you live. Knowingly hurt each other and someone’s going down, no question.
He snorts again, this time at his own words.

Yeah. Ha-ha. Funny.

Humor is equally as important, boy, as all those other things you feel. And, if you don’t want me hearing your thoughts, tone them down. Trust me; I don’t
want
to hear it all.

Got that right. “Well, Old Man,” I say aloud, “You took my mind off the volcanoes anyway. I guess that should be worth something.” And I have to laugh, too, because it feels good to be claimed by someone like Thunder.

Since he’s able to Shift through any number of layers, entering the volcano through the solid wall of mountainous rock and dirt is a piece of cake. Once we’re in, though, it’s another story.

We come to a stop in a wide tunnel, a lava tube. The things form when the flowing lava from an active volcano is thick and slow. Exposed to the air, the exterior gets a chance to cool and harden, forming a shell, which seals in the heat, keeping the inner lava fluid enough to keep moving. Eventually it drains itself, usually into various channels, which can all harden into tunnels as the lava slowly solidifies or changes course. Most likely, there’s a pretty intensive tunneling infrastructure down here, if this is where a whole society of Dwellers live.

We’re in the heart of the mountain, and the only reason I can see is because the walls are glowing a bright orange, as if it’s still molten. Which wouldn’t normally be possible, since the walls are holding their form. I slide from Thunder’s back, wary of touching anything. My chest is already scraped raw on the inside and my breath wheezes through the hazy grit of drifting ash.

The heat itself is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, like I’m standing under a broiler in an industrial strength oven. My clothes are now half-dry and little clumps of dirt flake off when I move. My skin feels like it’s bubbling and my lungs are seared enough that I can’t fully inhale. Which could be a good thing, since the air in here is entirely foul; if I didn’t have to breathe, I’d choose not to.

“Bloody bugger,” I gasp. We’ve been here for less than a minute. Sam and Jamie have been here—what? Days? How is that even possible? My mission does not seem promising.

Thunder’s soft nicker helps me focus.

I cannot do this for you, Ethan Shea Stone. I will do everything in my power to get you where you are needed, keep you safe while you do what is needed of you. But you must be the one to free the boys. Possibly, the inhabitants of these volcanoes are gone to join the battle; it’s unlikely that all would leave but, in this section anyway, there should be few.

“Why?” I croak, silently dying on the inside. My lips have already split, the coppery taste biting at my tongue as I try to re-wet them.

This is the prison; the People of the Flame do not live up at this level, but deeper yet. Both the forging and imprisonment take place here. Not many would bother to stay because they expect the human children to die quickly in these conditions. That they live is a miracle indeed.

“They’re still alive? For sure?”

They live.

Holy hot-house. By now, I’m not even sweating. And that’s not a good thing in these conditions. It means I’m already dehydrated, getting ready for, like, heatstroke or something.

“Uh, Thunder?” I rasp, my voice unrecognizable, “I’m not gonna last for long in here. I’ve gotta get to them. Now.”

Ah, heavens, Child. I do apologize.