Hatchling Page 8

  “What?” Jimmy asked, still having considerable trouble catching his full breath.

  “When a ship goes down it doesn’t all just fall nicely do the sea floor. More times than not it will break apart up at the surface and spread its contents over miles and miles.”

  “Hmm, so Ash could fall out in Georgia and the mountain could fall out here?” His mind still couldn’t grasp the vast distances, but her theory made sense. “Poor Ash.”

  “Yeah, he’s lucky he didn’t get seriously hurt. He’s not hurt is he?” Rowan turned toward the back of the barn where Ash slept.

  “No, I think his egg protected him. He was hatching when I found him. Right in front of my house.” Jimmy added that last part with a swell of pride.

  “You’re his mommy now.” Rowan grinned.

  “Father! Well, more like big brother.” That’s how the bond felt between them. Brotherly. Jimmy considered telling Rowan about their magic link, but closed his mouth. Believing in dragons and seeing them is one thing. Talking about speaking telepathically with your magic dragon gets you sent to the funny farm. He’d come too close to that once before. He wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Well, we have to get him up there.” Rowan pointed toward the mountain again and shivers went down Jimmy’s spine. Outside. In the open. Up a magical ominous mountain.

  As much as Jimmy wanted to help Ash find his mom, he couldn’t stand the thought of going up there. Or of losing him either, not so soon. Yet, in his heart Jimmy knew that the mountain was Ash’s way home, away from him forever. “I know.”

  James made sure the house was locked up tight before retiring to his room. He had watched from the kitchen table in pitch dark as the boy snuck out to the barn and came back carrying the black bundle in his arms like a wee bairn. James sighed. The boy was still a bairn himself. But the time had come.

  Resigned, James pushed himself up from the hard wooden chair and felt his back spasm. Time flew so fast in this world.

  He made his way down the dark hallway, taking care to touch each photo of Jim and Margaret. Oh, there were never enough. He wished he’d commissioned hundreds more, captured every expression. Now those furrowed eyebrows and scrunched noses lived only in his memory.

  James locked the door behind him, not that the boy would dare come in there. He was still afeared of him, James could tell. If only there was more time.

  Slowly, James walked across his room, what used to be their room, but she’d been gone so long now. He still kept her side of the bed made up how she liked it. And her old reading glasses gathered dust on the nightstand. Yet, it didna feel like a shared room any longer, no matter how many nights he prayed to the gods.

  The weaved tapestry of Odin’s wife, Freya, hung on the far wall. James ran his shaking fingers along the rough wiry fabric. He smiled to himself remembering how Margaret had haggled with the merchant, pleading ignorance of its historical significance. She had him convinced she only wanted it for the pretty colors.

  James stifled a sob, the ache in his chest stronger than it had been in years.

  He made his way over to the small ornate box atop the dresser. Golden wood crosses were carved along each seam and a pewter replica of Thor’s hammer adorned the lid. Another of Margaret’s great finds, it looked like an ordinary keepsake box to the untrained eye.

  Until this moment, James hadn’t been sure he would go through with it. He flipped the puzzle box over and ran a finger along the secret compartment. It made a mechanical sound and twisted itself open. Blinding light shot out of the box and James had to close his eyes.

  The gilded object inside shimmered in its own light, quivering in expectation. It was oblong with intricate black lines carved deep into the surface. Each line glowed with its own dark light, cutting into the yellow rays of the rune itself. As it vibrated in its casing, it gave off a strobe light effect across the ceiling.

  Holding his breath, James reached into the box and removed the warm rune. Its markings shifted, rearranging themselves into the silent command. He cupped it in the palm of both hands and spoke. “He has found the sword.”

  That night, after Rowan and her grandfather left, Jimmy holed up in his room and tried to sleep. Too many thoughts kept running through his head and he felt a heavy unease. Too much was happening all at once. He knew when he’d found Ash that it would mean stepping up and taking care of him. But just days into it, Ash had gotten sick. Jimmy still didn’t know what caused it, though it seemed to pass on its own. He was sure it would happen again. And he never imagined a whole new world, full of flying mountains and scary men following him around. Or a mysterious girl who could see Ash when nobody else could.

  At least he had one normal friend - well he seemed normal so far - because Jimmy sure needed an anchor to reality right now. Isaac could be that anchor, even if he came with the extra baggage of a flirty aunt who had her sights set on his grandfather. It was worth the risk. Tomorrow he’d invite Isaac over to hang out.

  But first, he needed his pet dragon.

  Jimmy listened at the door for any sounds of Grandpa James, but the house was quiet. He slipped out to the barn where he’d left Ash sleeping. By the faint remaining light of Ridire-solas, he saw the ball of wings and scales snoring in the corner. Gently, he scooped Ash into his arms. The baby dragon stretched and snuggled, burrowing deeper into the crook of Jimmy’s elbow, and let out a puff of contented smoke.

  Back in his room, Jimmy tucked Ash in beside him and tried again to sleep. After much work, squeezing his eyes shut and flopping from one side to the other — each time eliciting an angry growl from Ash — Jimmy started to drift off.

  What felt like seconds later, he woke to a light filling the room. It was dull but bright, pure yellow. And was that voices?

  Jimmy’s eyes opened wide and he looked around the room frantically. Shadows crept up his walls and across the ceiling. They all stretched toward the nightstand, toward the source of the light. Jimmy got an uneasy feeling in his stomach, even as he climbed out of bed to check it out. That wasn’t how shadows worked.

  As soon as he pulled the handle, the shadows rushed past him, sucked into the drawer. The medallion rocked slightly with the movement, making the light dance across the ceiling. The voices quieted to a faint whisper. Jimmy leaned in to hear better.

  Ash screeched and flapped his wings. Gray smoke filled the room.

  “What, boy?” Jimmy asked. He reached for the medallion to put it to his ear. It wobbled and shook, nearly spinning in place.

  This time Ash growled and tried to roar. His smoke funneled directly into the drawer to be eaten by the light.

  “Jimmy,” Grandpa James knocked on the door. “Time for breakfast.”

  Breakfast? Jimmy backed away from the drawer to find sunlight bursting through the window. Ash was at his feet, breathing heavy and still faintly growling. His throat sounded raw. There were scratches all up and down Jimmy’s leg.

  Jimmy looked back at the medallion which sat innocently still in the drawer, no light or sounds coming out of it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jimmy stomped his feet on the back steps and watched the clumps of black dirt fall beneath them. It still amazed him how in one train ride, the dirt could change colors. He’d never been anywhere before with dirt any color but clay orange. That stuff stuck to you like melted crayons, where this plain black dirt wiped off clean and dry. He probably didn’t even need a bath tonight.

  Jimmy opened the door slowly. He’d waited as long as possible to come in, but he and Ash were starving. The last hour of practice devolved into them standing over a piece of wood, waiting for Ash to light it on fire. His mind had wandered so far, dreaming about barbecue and hot dogs, he never stopped to think how dumb they were being.

  Lighting wood on fire, next to a pile of papers, in an old wooden barn. Jimmy shook his head in amazement at himself.

  Still, things with Grandpa James hadn’t exactly been comfortable since Mom left. And he’d rather go hungry…
or burn down a barn… than bump into him. So he waited until he heard the front screen door bang shut, and took his chance.

  He stood with the refrigerator door open, mentally telling himself to hurry up. He was letting out all the electricity. But he still had no idea what dragons really ate. Plus, all Grandpa James had was packs of hot dogs and bologna, and so much mayo.

  Just as he was reached for another pack of hot dogs, he felt something cold on his back. Not a physical sensation of cold, but the cold your skin goes when someone’s looking at you, now heightened by his new abilities.

  Jimmy turned, sheepish, waiting for Grandpa James to lecture him about the electricity bill, the same lecture Jimmy had given his mother so many times. But Grandpa James wasn’t there.

  Jimmy followed the creepy feeling through the house, past the television blaring some story about a farmer’s grass turning blue. As Jimmy opened the screen door slowly, over its eerie creaking sound, he heard a farmer who was definitely missing some teeth complain about green lightning striking his tractor. Each ‘s’ whistled just high enough for Jimmy to find funny, even as the hairs on his arms prickled.

  The news anchor cut back in with a bulletin; town leaders were meeting later that night to discuss whether to cancel upcoming events until these matters could be sorted. With a stern face he gave a warning for residents to stay inside until further notice.

  Jimmy stepped out onto the porch. Grandpa James stood off in the corner of the front yard, just down the steps. He stared out into the darkness, hands on his hips, unaware of Jimmy’s presence.

  A shadow moved across the field and Jimmy jumped. He turned in time to see a veil of darkness flitter away. Cold chills ran down his spine. He felt eyes on him, but saw nothing. In his head, a deep bitter voice told him to return what wasn’t his.

  Inching back toward the safety of the house, Jimmy called to Grandpa James. “What is it?”

  The old man jerked slightly, startled, but shrugged and said, “Dunno. Reckon it’s nothin’.” He turned and headed back toward the house, smiling at Jimmy. “Sure it’s just my imagination.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Face to face with Daegen, Ase gritted his teeth and ordered him to release the boy. Daegen gave a low whistle, followed by a wry grin. The mad king lowered his sword and threw the boy off to the side like garbage.

  Daegen’s armor had been forged from the same shimmering metal they went to war over, which lay deep under the ground beneath their feet. It was mesmerizing and Ase had to force himself to cast his eyes elsewhere. The rumors of its powers were more than night stories to scare children into quiet.

  A shadow caught in the corner of Ase’s eye.

  King Ase looked to the sky. The black-green behemoth bore down on him and his men. Ase signaled for Lord Sweyn to bring the infantry lines up. Within seconds, the rank and file tightened. The scattered sentries regrouped, with Sweyn at their helm, awaiting orders.

  The dragon landed behind Daegen and flapped a massive tattered wing. A thunderous wind tore through the valley and knocked many of Ase’s men to their knees, where the fire consumed them.

  King Daegen gave a command Ase couldn’t hear, but that caused the dragon to rear back its head and raise its voice to the Heavens. Sulfur fumed out of the beast’s nostrils. Green fire crackled in the back of its throat.

  “Surrender, fools!” Daegen yelled.

  Ase stepped closer. “By Odin’s Law, you must retreat. Relinquish what you stole. This is not your land.”

  With a deafening roar, fire spewed from the dragon’s mouth.

  Daegen yelled over the carnage, “Ah, but you are mistaken, false king. By Odin’s Law, the treasures beneath my feet are my own. To do with as I please.”

  Ase ducked as a fireball whipped past his head. An agonized scream wailed from behind him. He had no time to turn and see which of his men took that death for him.

  A furious resolve rose in Ase. As the cursed dragon opened its mouth for another fiery assault, Ase whispered his command to Gwrinhan and pierced the ground at his feet.

  The sword glowed bright yellow from tip to hilt. The runes carved into its blade rearranged themselves into a single word. “Fafnir.”

  The valley rumbled. Rocks rolled from the hills on either side of the battle. Large mounds of dirt rose from the earth around Daegen and his troops.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  For three days, Jimmy stayed away from the medallion. He spent all his time in the barn, practicing with Ridire-solas and cheering Ash on as his thin plumes of smoke became more defined. He planned out his mission as best he could, not knowing what waited for him on top of that mountain or how to prepare for what may come. He also tried to not think about Rowan. That proved even more difficult as time went on.

  Without her there to push him, Jimmy often quit sparring with his imaginary enemies the moment his arm began to hurt. Without her there to talk to, Jimmy chattered nonstop in his head to Ash who was trying very hard to concentrate. Many times the poor dragon would charge him, wings and mouth wide. If he were any bigger, or had mastered his fire breath, it might have been intimidating.

  Toward the end of the third day, there was a knock at the barn door. Ash hurried to his hiding place and Jimmy told Grandpa James to come in, then chided himself for thinking he had the right to tell the man where he could and couldn’t go on his own property.

  But it wasn’t Grandpa James.

  The tall, thin figure barely took up any space in the faint evening light. “Aunt Sarah and I came for a visit.” Isaac lumbered in, ducking through the doorway, although he probably wasn’t quite that tall. Habit, Jimmy figured.

  “Where is she?” Jimmy asked, although he knew quite well.

  “She’s inside,” Isaac pointed toward the house. “Brought your grandfather some medicine for his knee.” Isaac shrugged as if this was a common occurrence. He wore a white undershirt and jeans, similar what he’d had on when they met, if not the same ones by the looks of them.

  Jimmy didn’t bother mentioning that Isaac’s Aunt Sarah had just given Grandpa James some medicine a couple days before. He was onto her, and he would put a stop to it.

  After he defeated the shadow man who followed him and Ash, and climbed that impossible mountain to return Ash to his mom. But then, he’d get this woman away from his grandfather.

  “You fighting someone?” Isaac asked.

  Jimmy thought again of the shadowy figure that he kept running into, and of the man’s ability to put thoughts in Jimmy’s head. His insides turned to ice at the idea of going up against magic like that. He wasn’t ready.

  Isaac reached for Ridire-solas. Jimmy watched the pale flicker of light go out of the sword as the strange fingers wrapped around the hilt.

  When Rowan had fought with him the other day, Ridire-solas had kept glowing. Was it something special about her? Or something un-special about Isaac?

  He studied the older boy for a long time, from the angry pimples on his forehead that he tried to cover with his wavy brown hair to those long feet that poked out far past the rest of him. Puberty was kicking this boy’s butt.

  All the while, Jimmy masked his face in general interest about the moves Isaac was making with the sword. Definitely not a professional like Rowan, Jimmy thought to himself.

  From his corner in the back, Ash sent a light bubbly tingle along their bond, a sensation Jimmy had learned to interpret as laughter.

  After only a few minutes of intense swinging and swishing the air, Isaac let his arm drop to his side with the weight of the sword. Jimmy knew that feeling well these days. He took Ridire-solas back from Isaac and the sword began to glow again. Jimmy made a great effort to present the writing scrawled along the edge as he slowly placed the sword back in his belt loop, to give Isaac a chance to read the words.

  Nothing.

  As much as he hated to admit it, Rowan was his best bet for uncovering the mysteries of this town. Maybe Isaac was just too old to see the important things. />
  “How old are you,” Jimmy blurted out.

  “Fifteen. Just turned it a couple weeks ago.” Isaac looked around for somewhere to sit, found none, and dropped to the floor, still panting from the effort of wielding Ridire-solas for mere moments. No, not a warrior, at all.

  “Fifteen? You’re tall. I’m fourteen, for now.” He added that last part quickly. “I’ll be the same age as you next month.” Jimmy sat down across from Isaac, positioning himself so he could still see Ash. It put his back to the door, a danger he’d never bothered worrying about before. Jimmy realized he’d compounded his constant fear of the outside with all these new ones. Good thing Dr. Pembroke was way in Georgia.

  “What do you do for fun around here?” Jimmy asked.

  Isaac shrugged. “Aunt Sarah’s usually busy and my dad’s away at work. So I’m usually at the library. It’s not bad for a small town.” Isaac pushed his glasses back up his face. Jimmy already recognized this as his ‘about to tell you some weird fact’ expression.

  “And your mom?”

  Isaac lowered his hand and looked off toward the row of dusty tools lining the barn. “She’s back home in Wisconsin. It’s supposed to be my summer with my dad, but he got called away on business.”

  “The library?” Jimmy skipped over the tragic family part of his story, which sounded way too uncomfortably like his. He figured another strange fact about random things was a better alternative to talking about feelings.

  “Yeah, the librarian, Ms. Abernathy, lets me take ten books instead of seven.” Isaac perked up. “Did you research what I said about birthmarks? It’s fascinating. I found a book on Nordic superstitions, talks about how you’re destined for greatness. I’m almost done with it. You can borrow it if you like. I’m sure Ms. Abernathy won’t mind.”

  “Maybe,” Jimmy said. Destined for greatness? Nah.

  “I’m surprised your grandfather hasn’t explained all that to you. I mean, he’s got the mark, too.” Isaac’s eyes drifted around the dark barn.