Air

By J. D. Richard

Prepare to feast your mind on the death defying, thrilling, and unexpected! Smarty and Speedy are two boys in the wrong place at the wrong time. They become the unwitting executors of a supernatural artisan's estate. Consequently, the two must flee in terror for their lives from a threat that is set upon them—which they cannot see or touch.

Three years later Essie, a runaway, balks at inheriting her cousin's three-year-old son. She is sure that the way to deliverance from her drifter existence lies in attending the prestigious Mann University. Yet, the seemingly ordinary child, with an aura in the magic rings around his neck, and his insightful German shepherd protector defy that logic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. D. Richard
• Release date: Nov 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465806796

J. D. Richard

Author of the Air trilogy--earthbound, fantasy, magical, paranormal, and thrilling young adult fiction.

Book preview

AIR

By J. D. Richard

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 J. D. Richard

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The author is the sole copyright holder of this ebook.

Per the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be duplicated, reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without prior, written consent.

All Rights Reserved.

Summary: The unlikeliest of teenagers redeem themselves through a series of tragic events and in the process save an extraordinary three-year-old boy, who meets his match at a university behavioral study that is not all that it seems.

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for mama and Annette

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I heartily thank those authors that have freely shared of their fiction writing experience in interviews, on websites, and in blogs. Without them, I would have never had the courage to attempt to embark on sharing this tale of fantasy in this manner.

To Mr. Jeff Bezos (whom I have never had the privilege of meeting): Thank you for your pioneering spirit.

To Grandma Pauline: Thank you for commanding me to get a pen and piece of paper, when my voiced plans tended toward the overly abstract.

To Grandma Doris: Thank you for the gift of poetry that you cultivated in yourself, which I like to think has positively influenced me.

To mama and Annette: Last because so far from least, thank you both for your endless support, critique, and for rescuing me from lofty doom.

AIR

J. D. Richard

CONTENTS

1. ABDUCTION

2. FLIGHT

3. STEEPLECHASE

4. TRAP

5. RESTING PLACE

6. BURDEN

7. NEED

8. OUTLIER

9. OUTLIERS

10. FUMBLE

COMING SOON!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

1. ABDUCTION

Air tinged with the scent of luxurious leather seeped through the hood that obstructed his view. A dull ache at the back of his head hinted at the last thing that had happened to him. As he realized that he had lost consciousness, survival instincts continued to coax him out of his stupor.

Although he had never seen his captors coming, he immediately registered the expeditious hum of a superior engine. There was the reverberation of unswerving forward motion beneath and around him. He felt his knees too close to his chest for comfort and his captors at his sides. Altogether, it suggested that he was traveling in a sedan at a rapid pace on a highway.

The captive wondered how long he had been out of it. For that question, he had no point of reference. He had no answer.

As he turned his attention to the time, the prisoner willed his gifted mind to focus. He made himself keep an active, steady count. It helped him to realize that the ride was lengthening to ten and then fifteen minutes of high speed driving, post-reawakening. He thought of his wife and imagined that she could perceive him in his captivity.

Moments later he felt the vehicle quickly slowing, consistent with exiting the high-speed travel way. After a few more minutes, the curvature of the road, the sound of a lawnmower, and noticeably fewer vehicles wafting through the cracked window made him almost certain that he was being driven through a residential area.

He knew that he was somewhere with long established wealth. In the gusts coming through the cracked windows, he could smell the age of the evergreens. The scent was clean and filled his lungs with subtle essences of cedar and pine. The tinges of mismanaged human waste pervading the industrialized air around his city building—charred sterile by the fires in his forge—were utterly absent.

The captive noted that it had to have been evening. Only rapid cooling at the end of a full day of pine needles percolating in the sun could achieve that aromatic effect. The earth had not spun long enough on its axis to dilute it—to bathe the rest of its surface in the perfume.

He keenly registered the likelihood that no contaminants had ever defiled wherever he was. Yet, his surroundings were distinct from the crisp smell of his oceanfront home. A motor driving a power window whirred as the full, fragrant, clean cross-breeze put the vehicle’s scent of tanned opulence to shame.

He was just beginning to remember the moment of the impact at the back of his head, when his gilded paddy wagon slowed and angled before coming to a complete stop. A somehow familiar, aged rasp through an intercom questioned, Were there any problems?

No, a tenor voice to the front and left—behind the steering wheel—responded.

Excellent, the inquisitor praised. Bring him down to the chamber. I’ll meet you there, he ordered.

The grind of heavy metal gates receding on a well-maintained, pneumatic pulley system ended the exchange. Forward momentum of the vehicle followed the efficient whispers of all four windows rolling up. Movement was at a leisurely, inevitable pace.

After another minute, the vehicle stopped and the engine cut off. In the next, all four doors unlocked. Then they opened.

A captor led the hostage out into the pristine air. The ground had an almost imperceptible give—like new asphalt. Before the captive could process anything else, he felt an overwhelming pull on one of his arms tied to the other at his wrists.

Then a constant, pushing force compelled him forward. After being led some twenty-five steps, the ground under his feet became concrete. In thirty more, it became some kind of polished, hard stone.

The darkness through the captive’s hood eventually took on the faint beginnings of light. His lungs registered that the air in his new surroundings was plentiful and colder, but not as abundant. He reasoned that he must not be outdoors anymore.

The floor graded downward at wide, concentric angles over successive steps. After a time, the ambient space grew warmer. Some 100 paces later, his guide forced a stop.

The prisoner made out the crackling sound of cinders in a nearby fire, as one of his captors cut the ties around his wrists. Another took the hood from over his head. The captive registered the sound of leather-soled shoes stepping away from him, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden, dim light.

Taking in the view around him, the hostage was surprised to see himself amidst an enclosure of five, fully robed men. Four wore hoods. The exception was the captor directly in front of him.

The abducted man looked beyond the fascination in the steely eyes before him. They belonged to a statuesque, white-haired, father-time like gentleman. The aged captor was the only figure facing the victim.

On recognizing his abductor, the captive instinctively blinked to confirm what he was seeing. He involuntarily ran his hand through his disheveled, deep-red locks, dumbfounded. Then he raised the inflection in his voice to namely question, Gifre?

Yes, Henry. It is I. Welcome to my home, his captor stated dryly.

Gifre Fallen was a venerable and respected businessman. He exuded a gentility, poise, and quiet confidence that could only come with great age and financial success. However, his inviting and patient exterior hid a driven, greedy, and malevolent being. He was, in fact, a self-sustaining antithesis to life.

Not knowing what Gifre intended, it was not Henry Hughes’ fault that his curiosity was piqued when the accomplished man appeared at his forge the day before. The sage’s demeanor triggered no sense of alarm or defensiveness.

Gifre had kindly asked for and been granted an informational tour of Henry’s building for himself and his two business associates. He further asked Henry about commissioning him especially for an unnamed work.

The craftsman had not outright declined. Yet, he honestly divulged that his standing commitments made it impossible for him accept any new projects for approximately one year.

The polite conversation ended with Gifre thanking Henry for his time and mentioning intents to provide the particulars at some future date.

While standing as a prisoner in the underground cavern, Henry recalled their parting. He demanded, What is this about?

You have come highly recommended, was Gifre’s evasive response. The villain’s accompanying smile was suddenly less like a smile and more like the toothy leer of a canine before an attack.

In confusion Henry questioned, Just what am I highly recommended for?

"Your work is beyond parallel," Gifre stated with the conviction of fact.

The vagary was enough to put the craftsman on edge. He silently wondered, How much could this one time visitor to my workplace really know?

Noticing that Henry made no further comment in the silence, Gifre encouraged, There is no point in modesty here. I hear you are quite the smithy at casting rings. It’s not the rings so much as really breathing life and special qualities into everything that you make: pens, necklaces, musical instruments, and more. Henry sighed, staring at the well-informed man in disbelief.

"In short, I want you to make me a ring. It should not be a challenge. I want a ring just like one you made, oh say, about two years ago. I want sight," Gifre proclaimed, emphasizing the last word.

Henry paused, sharply exhaled, and shook his head again before clearly stating, I am not your man. His captor’s face fleetingly betrayed vexation before resuming a smiling façade.

Gifre posed, Considering what you make, it doesn’t always seem to be about raw materials. Does it? Is that what you mean?

Henry neither wanted to be there, nor wished to share anything with the sinister man. He felt a denial forming within him. Though also tempted to call his abduction exactly what it was aloud, he could not see how doing that would be beneficial to him.

In the space of a microsecond, Henry weighed his options. He knew that he was in a very disadvantageous position. His captors out numbered him five-to-one; and, Gifre was all too aware. Therefore, misdirection would not work.

Knowing that he was out of options, Henry determined to embrace the truth to whatever end. Even louder, he began again, You have the wrong craftsman . . .

Gifre interrupted, Do I now? He reached into the pocket of his robe. From within he pulled a four stranded, intricately braided, horsehair bracelet that was clear to see in his open palm. The white, silver, gray, and black strands comprising it caught the firelight.

Henry stared at the trinket in astonishment. Then his body froze with understanding as his captor dropped it to the floor. In utter disbelief, the craftsman gasped as the bracelet, under its own influence, moved.

It glided along the smooth, marble surface from where it fell. In a few seconds, it traversed the three feet