Thunder: The Shadows Are Stirring (Thunder Stories Book 1) (8 page)

When I come to, I’m back in the boat and Topher is mumbling and swearing and rowing faster than I knew was humanly possible. My head feels like it’s been hit with a baseball bat (ask Jamie why I know how that feels), and my stomach is on fire. I open my mouth to tell Topher it’s okay, but all that comes out is a groan.

~~~

D
ESPITE MY ARGUING AGAINST IT
, Topher asks Gunther at the next Circle if he should step out of his position. Gunther growls at him. Apparently, I had crossed through enough of the Barriers for something to claw me, but I had maintained sufficient enough substance on this side that Topher’s reflexive bash to my head pulled me back.

Gunther bellows at him, “There are NO mistakes! Only LEARNING OPPORTUNITIES!” He quiets down, clears his throat, and asks, “What did we learn from this?”

Topher answers first, without hesitation. “Don’t take foolish risks.”

“Act fast when there’s danger; thinking it through can waste precious time,” says my sister.

Ethan looks at Livs before turning his face away and stating, “Never drop your guard when you’re responsible for the safety of someone else.”

“Know what you’re getting into when you make a decision and be prepared for the ‘what-ifs’,” Jamie adds.

Callie’s input is typical of her. “A clear mind is a powerful gateway.”

Owen, who is curled against Gunther’s side, murmurs, “Trust your friends to watch out for you.”

And, when all heads turn towards me, I offer, “Trust your own instincts; don’t follow when you should lead.”

Gunther says, “So. Many lessons learned. You are not leaving, Topher; you are obviously an excellent teacher.”

And the Circle is concluded with the decision to move to the Training Grounds in a few days, on Livs’ birthday. Gunther-as-Thunder will come with Owen-as-Storm, but not for our sakes. They’ve got Owen’s training to deal with. The man is very much into people being left alone to learn and grow in their own way. He says there are many roads to travel, which lead to the same destination. Everyone needs to find his or her own path.

Chapter Six: Healing

(SAMUEL)

T
HEIR FINGERS LOOK AWFUL
, all swollen and purple and scraped raw on the tips. I follow behind them as they make their way to Jamie. I’m supposed to be reading up on “Body Language: How to See Beyond the Spoken Word.” Or something like that. This looks more interesting, though, and I’ve got a feeling I’ll be able to learn about body language anyway.

When we enter Jamie’s domain, the first thing that hits me is the smell. Right away, I’m blasted back to the Training Grounds. The creams and ointments are the same as the ones that we’d used then, and they all contain a distinctive earthy, pine-like odor. The place looks kind of like a school science lab/nurse’s room combo. Tables, shelves, cabinets, and lots of glass jars.

Gunther’s not around, but Jamie’s face lights up when he sees us. His eyes immediately turn serious as he performs his Healer scan. None of us comes here without needing some sort of patch job. He zones in on their gnarly hands and then narrows his eyes at me, like I had something to do with it.

“Sheesh, man. This was all them. They don’t need my help with dumb choices.” Olivia shoots me a death ray. See? I can read her just fine.

“What’d you do to your fingers? Can you move them at all?” He takes Livs’ arm first and she gasps as he turns her hand palm-up.

I back up to a table and sit on the corner, while Ethan leans stiffly against the side of a tall cabinet, holding his arms very still. He tries to appear bored but his eyes follow Olivia and, when she notices, they share twin grins.

Ethan opens his mouth, but Livs jumps in, her voice strained despite her quick smile. “We just went for a climb, is all. It was harder than expected.”

I’m sure there’s more to it. Knowing them, they were trying to figure out a new hammer throw or something, while free-climbing a cliff. Sometimes I think they try to out-do each other with who can get the strangest injuries, just to test Jamie’s skills.

Jamie rolls his eyes. He’s probably thinking the same thing. “Uh-huh. Sit here, Liv; this isn’t going to feel good at first.” He grabs a clear container from a shelf and rubs a goop of thick yellowish ointment onto all of her fingers. She winces with an audible gasp and mutters dire death threats under her breath.

“They should go numb in a moment; then I can see what needs to be splinted. The ointment’s what Mr. Gunther used on us in the cave; you’ll be good in a day or so.” I watch my sister’s eyes and, sure enough, her pupils are returning to their regular size. Livs gets one splint, after Jamie pops her finger into place. She doesn’t even flinch, but my stomach clenches; it sounded awful.

Ethan’s next, and he doesn’t handle it as well as she had. I think his swearing echoes down the mountain and across the valley. Two of his fingers need splints; two need just tape.

As they leave, Livs kisses the squirt’s head and he waits until the door closes behind them before wiping it off and making a failed attempt to put his spiky hair back into place. When he turns to me, I’m shocked by how similar he looks to Dad. His face shines with accomplishment. If he were a flashlight, his glow would challenge the beam of a lighthouse.

I’m in awe of the kid. “What’s it like, being able to fix everyone?”

 “Ah, man, it’s the best feeling in the world. Nothing can compare. When pain can be healed …. You know, I wonder how Dad felt using regular human medicines in the hospital. When he lived here, he would’ve worked with everything Mr. Gunther’s been teaching me to use. And all Mr. Gunther’s supplies are the enhanced things from the Shadows. Here, check this out.” He takes my elbow and pulls me to a back table, filled with mad scientist vials and beakers.

“See, Mr. Gunther’s been showing me how to make everything. All these plants? What do you notice about ’em?”

“Uh, they’re green and leafy.”

“Sa-am.”

“Sorry. They look the same, but this one is shinier and the leaves are … wow, it’s almost like I can see inside of them, like if I cross my eyes I could see chlorophyll moving through the veins.”

“Yeah! Isn’t it cool? The plants from the Shadows are just like our varieties, but ours are much more diluted in their properties, which makes the ratios for compounds different.” He spins a circle, encompassing the whole room and all its contents. “Which plants or flowers or roots or barks have healing potential? Which ones are poisons? What mixtures can be made into rubs and creams; what needs to be given orally? What can numb, what can mend, what can induce sleep? I know those answers, Sam. It’s mind blowing. I can do this; I can live this. I need to. It’s in my blood.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Mr. Gunther’s got me studying the human body, too: anatomy, biology, and physiology. It’s all stuff I’ll continue to study as I get older and can go to medical school. I want to be a surgeon. Be able to take something broken, or sick, or wounded and make it whole again. Maybe not quite the way it used to be, but something new and beautiful and functional all the same. Healing is like what Mr. Gunther’s always saying about the layers and stuff, it’s gotta happen on many levels for the process to be complete.”

The squirt’s a genius. He’ll be able to do whatever he wants.

“Whaddya think we’ll be facing in the Shadows, for you to get this prepared now?”

“Wow, I don’t know. There could be anything. When I hear ‘Shadow Layer,’ I think of something insubstantial, but it’s like everything there is
more
than here. Well, you can see the plants. And Mr. Gunther says it’s a place where energies are visible, dreams are realities, and magic is tangible. He makes it sound like Good and Evil are factored to a higher degree, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah. It makes sense.” I hesitate. “I worry about you coming through, though. You’re my kid brother. You’ve already dealt with too much. With Mom and Dad and all.”

He sets his jaw, but his eyes soften. “I get it. But, I’m curious about the place and you’ll need me. Not just ’cause I’m a good Healer, but because I’m better at accepting weird things than you are.” He grins. It’s true; Jamie has no problem being around Thunder or Storm—Owen’s tiger-name. I still feel out of place. “Mr. Gunther’s not telling us any details about it, but I figure it’ll be like stepping into a fairytale.”

That’s why I’m concerned.

Jamie continues, “I think there will be opportunities for great Goodness, and that’s what I’m looking forward to. Life here can stink; if we can do something to improve it, we need to go for it. According to Mr. Gunther, helping on that level will make things better on our layer, too.”

I know we’re as ready as we can be. I can’t wait to head out to the Training Grounds in a couple days. I’ve made sure everyone’s got their gear set. Jamie has his bow and arrows with him wherever he goes, and I know he’s packed enough supplies to satisfy an E.R.

Jamie had wanted to use the Grounds as a home base, like a retreat from the Shadows if things get tight. But Gunther told us time doesn’t work the same once we’re in. If one of us comes back separately from the others, we might not meet up again where and when we want. When we asked him why we couldn’t just skip it and head right into the Shadows, he answered, “Everything in its own time.” I guess that means whatever’s going to happen will happen when it’s supposed to. Which means we all have to wait.

~~~

“
O
MIGOSH, WATCH OUT!”
Owen yelps from the landing as the football sails over Jamie’s reach and crashes into one of the fans above my head. The glass lightshades don’t break, but the blades jerk around in a slow spin.

I glance in the direction of Gunther’s study. “Uh, let’s take it outside.”

Owen hops down the stairs and follows me through the front doors, but Jamie doubles back, returning with an arm-load of pilfered food.

“Quick, before anyone older asks for the last cookies!”

We head around the house, crossing one of the flagstone patios, and take a side path, which leads to the fire pit. Here I stop, grabbing some cookies and fruit for myself and sitting on one of the benches to let the two younger boys head off for their own fun. I wait for Jamie to work his Healer magic; I know he won’t be able to stop himself.

Ever since he first Shifted, Owen’s been anxious and jumpy. It had been spontaneous and had scared him out of his mind, despite all he’s been learning from Gunther. He’s not allowed to manipulate anything beyond his own form yet. First, he has to learn about the layers of life and the true nature of existence. Once he has a handle on that, he can try to change stuff around him. We’ve gotten used to the baby tremors under our feet, and it’s always cool to see a tiger leaping around the fields.

Most times, Owen seems a lot older than eight, maybe because of the responsibility he accepted when he learned he was a Shifter. One day, he’ll be a mentor and guide for Benders like us, passing between the Barriers, and getting people to where they belong in life. Shifters aren’t common, so Owen’s pretty unique.

He and Jamie get along well. Jamie’s always been a little different, himself. At school, he used to get teased. I’d wanted to interfere, tell the kids to knock it off, but he asked me not to. They’d call him things like Brainy Jamie. He told me he didn’t mind the name because it was true. As soon as the kids realized Jamie didn’t care, they backed off. In fact, the nickname stuck, almost as a compliment. Mom used to call him an old soul; to Dad, he was “Little Man.” He would say Jamie was exactly like him, except he didn’t get into enough trouble. I must’ve inherited that part.

Jamie glances over at Owen, and digs his elbow into the little guy’s ribs, managing to hold onto all the snacks. Not waiting for a response, he starts running out to the meadow, calling over his shoulder, “You’re ‘It’, Owen! Gotta catch me!”

I laugh and stand, walking in their direction. I can guess what’s gonna happen next; he’s trying something from the unwritten Brotherhood Book. This has to be step one in Operation: Make-Owen-Happy. I don’t want to miss it.

Jamie can’t run very fast with his arms loaded down, but he’s making a good pretense at attempting. They race through the damp, knee-high grass, until Owen tackles him from behind and apples, crackers, and cookies go flying all around.

“Oops. Sorry. I didn’t mean for the stuff to fall. I was just tryin’ to get you.” His wavering voice carries back to me. Bending to pick up an apple, his forehead wrinkled with unease, I can tell he’s starting to second guess his playfulness. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, sounding like he expects Jamie to be mad at him.

“Hey, no worries. That was an awesome move,” Jamie answers with an easy grin and, right as Owen turns to hand back an apple, Jamie takes him down by the knees. Surprised, Owen lies there on the ground, and I think maybe he made the wrong call until a wet cookie smacks Jamie’s forehead. A burst of laughter erupts from the grass, and Jamie dives down.

Sometimes a kid just has to be a kid. Back on the mountain, I would practice the same stealth attack smack-downs on Jamie, whenever he got into a funk. Nothing like a brotherly assist for improving your outlook. And now he’s got Owen doubled over, laughing. Healer magic accomplished.