Whispers of Nowhere

By Shannon Rohrer

When Gwen’s father gets home late from work, it’s just another typical night for the museum curator’s daughter. Still, there’s something strange about the artifacts he’s brought home this time, something so unique that she can’t help but touch them.

In a blinding flash, the artifacts vanish, and a mysterious man appears in their place. Only he’s not a man at all. Forneus is a daemon, an intermediary between gods and man—and the guardian of the very artifacts Gwen has just unwittingly sent back to their places of origin around the globe.

Gwen doesn’t have time to absorb this before a new figure emerges: Phenex, the human-personification of the legendary bird, himself. The next thing she knows, she’s being whisked away from the comfort of her home into a world beyond her wildest imaginings.

When she thinks things couldn’t possibly get any more complicated, she’s proven wrong. Because those bizarre artifacts? They were protective seals to a place called Nowhere; a prison realm created by the gods to contain all of the malevolent forces Gwen has only heard about in bedtime stories.

Now those very same forces are on the rampage, intent on revenge against the gods whom imprisoned them—and they don’t care who else gets hurt along the way. Possessing innate powers she can’t even begin to understand, it is up to Gwen and her two mysterious allies to reclaim the lost artifacts before someone far more sinister does...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shannon Rohrer
• Release date: Apr 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370129522

Shannon Rohrer

Originally from Toronto and then raised in Barrie, Ontario, Shannon currently makes her home on the Canadian Forces Base of Petawawa with her military husband and school-aged daughter. Having developed a taste for storytelling at an early age, Shannon hasn’t been able to escape its clutches since, and now spends as much of her time feeding her literary appetite as possible. When she isn’t writing fantastical tales saturated in mythology and folklore, she can either be found reading, gaming, or enjoying the company of close family and friends.Whispers of Nowhere is the first novel in the trilogy of the same name. If you’d like to know more about Whispers of Nowhere, its sequels, or any of the author's other works, you can reach her through the various social media links provided.

Book preview

WHISPERS

OF

NOWHERE

By Shannon Rohrer

Copyright © 2014 by Shannon Rohrer

Cover art and design © 2018 LaceWingedSaby

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed by CreateSpace

First Printing, 2018

To keep in touch with the author, visit:

https://www.facebook.com/SRsRamblings/

Or

https://rebeldynasty.wordpress.com/

~For Charlie, who supported me every step of the way, and for Aurora; you are a source of magic and wonder.~

Prologue

Weariness had long since made itself known. Forneus stifled another yawn, tracking the progress of the ten transparent images floating in the air, orbiting him like planets around the sun. The images drifted slowly, Forneus not once losing sight of them as long, thin fingers tapped the keys of the crescent-shaped console in front of him. The room was otherwise dark, save for the projections encircling him, casting their luminescence over the console’s gleaming surface. From an amethyst cluster, to a winged staff; from an elegant sword, to a feathered crown, until finally, all ten images came full circle, returning to the amethyst once again.

That should do it. With a final tap to the confirmation keys on the right side of the console, Forneus settled back in his seat, releasing a weary sigh as he did. Perhaps I can finally—

No sooner had the tension seeped from his shoulders when the whole system began to sputter, the projections wavering before vanishing completely. Pinpricks of light danced in Forneus’s vision as the room plunged into total darkness, the whirring and beeping of the console’s ethereal intakes and cooling system grinding to a halt until the only sound was Forneus’s laboured breathing. The very projections that had illuminated his pale features only seconds ago danced before his eyes, only now inverted like the negatives of photographs.

What’s going on?

Forneus was on his feet in an instant. Ordinarily, he was not so easily panicked. But something in the way the blackness had fallen over the room had him spinning in a wide circle, his gaze every which way as he tried to catch a glimpse of whoever, or whatever, was responsible for the system’s sudden failure.

He never got the chance. Alarm prickled the back of his neck, his eyelids drooping heavily as fatigue took hold. The clarity of mind he was so well renowned for—that had secured for him this very position—became muddled, mired in a perpetual fog from which no amount of urgency could release him. Forneus stumbled forward, legs trembling, no longer able to support his weight. He landed face down on the hard, cool floor, a rush of air ghosting past his lips as he reached out toward the last image he’d seen before the system had gone down; that of a young, blonde-haired girl.

Forneus could feel himself being pulled into slumber, unable to fight against it as he watched the girl’s after image swim across his vision. A pang of guilt seized him as fat droplets poured from the child’s large, green eyes, a stuffed bear clutched to her chest.

I’m sorry. I failed…

Chapter One

~Eight years later~

Gwen bolted upright in bed, peering at the long, disfigured shadows on her bedroom walls. Realizing that the assortment of knick-knacks cluttering her shelves were the culprits, she settled back against her pillow with a sigh. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she took notice of the moon’s pale silver light peeking through the venetian blinds, casting barred patterns on the lavender wall opposite. A warm spring breeze wafted over her from the partially opened window, soothing her until the frantic thudding of her heart finally abated.

Letting her eyes drift closed so that only the faintest glimmer of light made it through her lashes, she frowned. What had woken her from the dream? The recurring nightmare about the large, grey serpent she’d been having for as long as she could remember? Of course, she always woke before the end, before its coils squeezed the breath right out of her, but still… It wasn’t until she heard the soft click of a door closing down the hall that she realized what had brought her out of the dream before the worst part could happen.

It looks like dad’s home late again. That’s the third time this week.

As a curator for the local museum and the town’s leading expert on all things mythological, her father’s hours were unpredictable at the best of times. Scholars from all over the country sought him out for his expertise in the various religious sects, tending to call him from their hotel rooms at odd hours of the day and night. Because of this, and her mother always travelling on business for the car company she represented, Gwen spent a lot of time on her own. Even though she oftentimes felt lonely, she didn’t mind the solitude overly much; she’d always found ways to keep herself preoccupied.

Even so, she couldn’t help noticing that her father was spending more time away from home than usual, only home long enough to nuke his dinner in the microwave before taking off at the behest of yet another scholar. She knew there’d been some major discovery recently, but beyond that, she hadn’t been successful in getting more out of him on the matter. Only that whatever had been found would take the archaeological world by storm.

A familiar, upbeat ringtone issued from down the hall, blaringly loud and interrupting Gwen’s speculations before suddenly cutting off.

Hello? Though muffled, Gwen could clearly hear the weariness in her father’s voice. He had probably already started nodding off when the phone rang.

There was a shuffling sound, followed by a creak in the floorboards. Can’t you call Miranda? I just got in. A pause, then the jiggle of a doorknob and the soft tread of socked feet as her father left his room. All right, all right, he sighed, his voice louder as he passed Gwen’s room. I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything until I get there.

Gwen remained still, listening as her father descended the stairs. She heard the distinct groan of wood as he settled onto the bench by the front door to put on his shoes, the zip! as he did up his jacket. The front door opened and then closed with a soft click, the key turning in the lock and sliding the deadbolt home. A car engine purred to life, followed by the crunch of tires over cracked pavement. Then only silence.

I wish they’d stop calling on him all the time. Can’t they decipher this stuff without him for once? Or better yet, she thought, why can’t he just say ‘no’? Would it really be so bad to have dinner together, like we used to? It’s bad enough mom’s always gone—can’t he at least be here when I need him?

Rolling onto her side, Gwen pressed both of her fists into her pillow, fluffing it up until it was just the way she wanted it. Brushing back the tendrils of hair that had fallen across her forehead, she closed her eyes, willing her mind to go blank in the hopes of falling back to sleep. It was hopeless. Now that she was awake, she couldn’t seem to return to the state of unconsciousness—troubled though it was—she’d been jolted from.

She tossed and turned for some time, finally kicking her blankets off and glaring at the bright, crimson numbers of the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand beside her; 12:18 a.m. With a huff of annoyance, Gwen lowered her feet to the hardwood floor and pushed herself up with a groan, stretching her arms high above her head and letting them drop limply at her sides.

Deciding that a late night snack might be in order, she made her way out of her room, through the short length of hallway, and down the winding stairs leading to the kitchen. Beams of light from the streetlamps outside shone through the window above the kitchen sink, bathing the countertops in a soft, orange glow. The only sound that could be heard in the otherwise silent household was the ticking of the clock hanging on the dividing wall between the kitchen and living room.

As she began rummaging through the cupboards, she caught sight of something glittering on the dining table. Turning around, she was surprised to see an assortment of items strewn across it, ranging from decorative to just plain bizarre; a feathered crown, a black cauldron, a winged staff… Some of the relics she remembered from long ago, the cauldron and the crown being among many antique pieces her father had collected, only to end up tucking them away in the garage loft, forgotten. The others, judging by the thick coating of dust on them, were new.

When her gaze fell on an amethyst cluster twice the size of her hand, she reached out toward it, admiring the deep purple crystals lined with quartz. Gwen had developed a keen interest in gemstones at a young age, and as a result, had learned to tell certain ones apart. Amethysts were no exception, and had been amongst the first ones she’d learned to distinguish from all others.

Dad must have brought them home for cleaning, she mused, her gaze flicking over each one of the nine items on the table with mild interest. They’re probably for the museum’s new exhibition.

A spark emitted from the stone the moment her fingers made contact with it, causing her to draw back with a startled gasp. Before she could even wonder what had just happened, a white light came from deep within the amethyst’s core, spreading upward through the lower portions of quartz, and up into the peaks of lavender and violet. Pinpricks of light shot out from between the grooves of the stone, dancing across the surfaces of the walls and floor like the refracted glow of a disco ball.

Gwen gasped, retreating as the other items began to emanate the same light as the amethyst. The light arced between them like an electric current, jumping from the stone to the sword, from the sword to the crown, and continuing on until all nine items glowed as one.

In the midst of all this, Gwen just happened to notice her hand. The same one she’d touched the crystal with shone with the same intensity as the items, lighting up from within so that each tendon and membrane of skin became nearly transparent. Before she realized what she was doing, she had backed into the refrigerator, watching in morbid fascination as the light permeated the rest of her body. Each of her limbs filled with a warm tingling sensation, growing in intensity as the light beneath her skin began to do the same.

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, the kitchen no more than a haze beyond the blinding white glare. It ended just as quickly as it began, a sudden flash cutting through the thin protection her eyelids offered before fading to black, leaving her to blink away the red specks before her eyes.

When her vision finally cleared, it was to see that not a single trace of the items remained, the surface of the dark wooden table gleaming back at her almost guiltily. A sudden rustle came from beneath the table, and Gwen jumped back with a scream.

A dark-haired figure clad in a navy blue frock coat lay coughing and sputtering on the linoleum, a radiant afterglow surrounding him. This was all Gwen had time to see before consciousness left her.

*

Reeves swore viciously, deking between rocky spires as he did. They were close on his tail. He could hear them, their heavy footfalls, their growling breaths, the snarled words punctuated by grating laughter; the sound of metal on metal. There wasn’t time to spare their words a second thought, no time to translate them from the Gehennan dialect he’d long since abandoned.

All he could do was run, black dress shoes skidding across the thick coating of ice lining the deeper trenches, one polished toe snagging on the edge of a protruding rock before he managed to right himself again. On and on he went, arms pumping at his sides, the brim of his fedora pulled low over his eyes, trench-coat flapping behind him like a pair of dark brown wings. If he had been human, he might have felt a sharp pain in his side by now, his lungs might have been burning with their desire for air. But as he was not, neither came to pass. The only sensations warring within him were that of fear, anger, and an inescapable emptiness.

The same emptiness that had bedeviled him since he’d first set foot in Nowhere fifty years ago; the day that, after going toe-to-toe with him for several years, his long-time nemesis had shown his true colours. His true might. A might Reeves had learned the hard way he wasn’t equal to, not without the new moon’s presence and a slew of magical backing from his mistress.

Focus, he scolded himself, sliding down a steep incline and diving through a narrow crevice, the tail of his coat snagging temporarily before he pulled it free. As soon as you get out of here, you can make ‘im pay. For now, concentrate on this battle.

We know you’re in there, Shade, hissed a voice, drawing out the ‘Shh’ sound. There is no escape. Surrender now, and we might leave you just enough strength to live.

I dunno, Skeld’ek. You’re not exactly giving me much incentive to cooperate, here.

Mocking laughter followed this statement, Skeld’ek’s titters the loudest of all. Reeves gritted his teeth, pressing firmly against the rock wall at his back. Only a trickle of grey light permeated the crevice, creating a thin beam that marred the wall above one gloved hand. Even without being directly in the light’s path, Reeves knew better than to think he couldn’t be seen. Demon-kind were blessed with night vision, coming from a world of darkness that made the blackest night on Earth seem bright in comparison. Without it, none would survive for long; not in Gehenna, nor in any of the other demonic realms parallel to it.

Reeves swore he would never go back to that hellhole, and yet, he’d wound up in a prison just like it. Cold, dark, harsh—where everyone and everything either devoured the weak, or targeted the strong in their desperation for whatever remnants of power they still possessed.

Frankly, it was a miracle he’d managed to hold on to the meager amount he had for this long. Fifty years notwithstanding, he’d had more than his fair share of tussles with his fellow prisoners, and Skeld’ek—the Naga continuing to hurl threats at him with her sibilant voice—had been at the head of the pack every time.

A flash of an orange, reptilian eye stared at him through the crack, driving all other thoughts from his mind. Using the wall as a guide, Reeves slid further back, moving inch by inch until the eye disappeared from view, even if the voices of Skeld’ek and her entourage didn’t.

He had just begun to wonder how he would get out of dealing with Skeld’ek and her lackeys this time, when there was a strange, screeching sound from high above, drifting to him from the narrow crack between the upper boulders and the ones he’d squeezed into. The sound rose in pitch, and beneath it, he could hear the curious and frightened murmurs of the demons opposite him. Skeld’ek’s voice had become muted, only the occasional hissed word reaching Reeves’ ears amid the clamour.

As the noise grew, the ground began to tremble, the rumble of stone grinding against stone forcing him to grit his teeth and clap his hands over his ears.

What in Gehenna’s name is that? he wondered, uncovering one ear to steady himself against the rock wall behind him. The sound continued on, ululating into a string of rumbling cracks, fading and rising again like thunder. The ground pitched more violently than ever, and it was with sheer force of will that Reeves managed to keep his feet under him.

And just as suddenly, it stopped. The sound, the ground’s shaking, the frightened murmurs and cries—everything fell still, leaving only a sense of desolation in its wake. Cautiously—for who knew what Skeld’ek planned to do once he emerged?—he edged toward the crevice, placing one hand along the opening. When nothing happened, he curled his fingers around the edge, and with a grunt of effort, pulled himself free.

What greeted him was blinding light, brilliant gold strobing throughout the clouded sky like rhythmic flashes of lightning. Skeld’ek and her legion of cronies were only an arm’s breadth away, but their attention wasn’t on him. When Reeves looked around the bleak grey environment, it was to see that most every other prisoner of Nowhere had their faces turned in the same direction.

A dark, swirling vortex had opened just beyond a series of broken spires, violet light crackling along the edges while grey and black pulsed at its centre; like the steady pounding of a heart.

No sooner had it occurred to him to wonder what had caused it when there was a sudden outcry among the demons, screeches and roars rending the air while gusts of wind kicked up dust as those capable of flight took to the sky.

Nowhere’s portal, he realized, breath catching in his throat. It’s been opened. It’s finally been opened!

Reeves didn’t waste another precious second. Releasing a warning growl at some of the lesser demons when they made to pass him, Reeves took off, energy rushing into him through his very pores and trickling through his veins, giving him the strength to do something he hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

Black tendrils rose from his shoulders, writhing like so many serpents and wrapping him in their coils. With a flick of his wrists, he was fully enveloped, and he melted into a gauzy pool of shadow, becoming one with the ground. In this form, it took him no time at all to streak past those running on foot, as quick and silent as a ghost and darting from one shadow to the next with the keenness of a small predatory mammal.

He reached the portal half a second before Skeld’ek, rising from the ground and returning to his physical form in a rush of grey mist. Once the last thread of his fedora had fallen into place, he delivered a satisfying punch to the underside of Skeld’ek’s maw, causing her to topple over backward and flatten several of the lesser demons under her coils.

Reeves allowed himself a low chuckle. With a final look at the hellish prison that had been his home for far too long, he stepped through the portal, willing the massive output of energy that had created it to guide him to its source.

I will be with you soon enough, Ladyship, he vowed, and then there won’t be a soul, damned or otherwise, to stand in our way.

*

Gwen stared uncomprehendingly at the stranger in front of her, so close that she could see the faint traces of stubble lining his jaw, his lips seemingly moving without sound.

Miss? Miss, are you all right?

It wasn’t until her eyes met his that she finally snapped out of her stupor. Drawing away from him with a gasp, she realized she was sitting on the linoleum, her back pressed firmly against the refrigerator. How had she wound up on the floor, and for how long had this strange man been talking to her?

Where did he come from? she wondered. One minute, there had been all those strange artifacts on her dining table, and the next…

W-Who are you? Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Aside from his frock coat, which Gwen thought looked suspiciously like the ones she’d seen in her history textbook, the stranger wore a black dress shirt, the collar just visible beneath the unbuttoned lapel of his coat. Nearly every one of his fingers bore a ring of silver or gold, all etched with strange markings. Runes, she thought. One in particular stood out above the rest. A gold ring on his left middle finger, the only one with a stone set into it; a modest, oval-shaped sapphire.

Please, don’t be afraid.

Gwen jumped at the sound of the man’s voice, her gaze snapping up to meet the startling silver of his eyes. She frowned, futilely attempting to scoot further away, the fridge unyielding at her back.

I assure you, said the man in soothing tones, I mean you no harm.

Summoning her nerve, Gwen slowly rose to her feet. You didn’t answer my question, she bit icily. Who are you?

There was the slightest twitch at the corners of the man’s mouth when she said this, as if resisting a smile. Is he laughing at me? When he rose to his feet she took another step back, her legs threatening to buckle under her. No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t real. People don’t just…pop out of thin air. This has to be a dream. Any minute now I’ll wake up, and everything will be just the way it—

My apologies. The stranger’s words broke through Gwen’s thoughts, making her jump yet again. He swept into a bow and straightened, standing at least a foot taller than her five feet, two inches. My name is Forneus. I am the guardian of the artifacts—the very ones that, until recently, were in your possession.

Gwen shook her head, disbelieving. This isn’t happening, she muttered. You’re not real. This is all just some whacked out dream, and any minute now, I’m going to wake up, and laugh this whole thing off.

Even as she said it, she felt it wasn’t true. She had seen the artifacts glowing, and when they’d vanished, he had appeared. It was impossible, but it had happened anyway.

Either that, or she was losing her mind. What other possible explanation was there?

When the stranger took a step forward, Gwen took another step back, edging away from the refrigerator. The man named Forneus watched her with curious eyes as she circled to the other side of the kitchen, strategically putting the dining table between them.

There’s a stranger in my house, she thought, trying to remain calm, and the phone is completely on the other side of the living room. Of all the dumb luck. Where the hell is dad when I need him?

For whatever reason, the stranger didn’t attempt to approach her again, simply contenting himself with staring at her. Now that there was some distance between them, Gwen was able to get a good look at him for the first time. With short, wavy black hair, high cheekbones, a prominent nose, and a well-defined chin, he had a sort of regality about him. Judging from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, she guessed him to be somewhere in his thirties.

Or so he appeared to be, at any rate.

Okay, so let’s pretend you are who you say you are, she said, frowning. "What do you mean you’re the ‘guardian of the artifacts’? What the hell just happened? How did they disappear like that, and where did you come from?"

Forneus opened his mouth as if to speak, and shut it again. The skin around his eyes tightened, his expression troubled.

Gwen knew that expression all too well. She’d seen it on her parents’ faces whenever finances were tight, and they received the monthly bills. She’d seen it in the eyes of the substitute teachers at school whenever they were assigned that one, troublesome class that delighted in their suffering. Yet somehow, when she looked at this man—who had to be at least a decade younger than either of her parents—his expression spoke of a far heavier burden.

Finally, he answered, I can’t say.

Eyes narrowed, Gwen edged toward the kitchen’s entrance. Whatever sympathy she’d begun to feel for him, she wasn’t about to let it cloud common sense. He was a stranger in her house after all, and for all she knew, he was dangerous.

"What do you mean, you can’t say? Look, you showed up in my house completely out of nowhere, so I think you owe me some answers! It’s a simple question: what the hell just happened?" Try as she might, Gwen couldn’t keep her voice from quavering, though the man didn’t appear to notice.

Forneus ran a hand over his face with a sigh. I assure you, this is far from simple.

Oh, that is it!

Gwen darted past him into the living room, fingers instinctively reaching for the handset. Before she could so much as hit the ‘Talk’ button, a familiar bejeweled hand snatched it from her grasp, the other clamping over her mouth to muffle her frightened scream. Eyes wide, she tried to catch a glimpse of the man behind her, but with his arm pinning her body against his, it was impossible.

Please, you mustn’t, Forneus begged, his breath warm against her ear. No one else can know about what has happened tonight.

Gwen continued to struggle in his grasp, all to no avail. In spite of his lean build, his grip was like iron and yet somehow, gentle. Gwen was much too afraid to consider this however, and finally managing to get her mouth free of his hand, bit down on his index finger. Hard.

He let out a surprised yelp of pain before catching hold of her again, his grip relaxing only slightly as he turned her around so that she was facing him. Please, calm yourself. You have my word—I’m not going to hurt you.

Gwen froze, eyes wide with fright.

I’m going to release you now, Forneus said, but before I do, I need you to calm down. In return, I will tell you what you want to know. Do we have a deal?

Gwen stared at him for a moment, unsure of whether she should trust him or not. Deciding that he had a lot more to lose from letting her go than gain, she nodded. As soon as he released her, she took several steps back, eyeing him warily.

I’m sorry to have restrained you like that, he told her, his tone gentle. It is of great import that I fulfill my mission as discreetly as possible, however. If anyone else were to learn of what happened here tonight, it would cause no end of trouble.

How’d you do that? Gwen asked, hugging her waist.

Forneus canted his head to the side. Do what?

Drop the innocent act, she said, glaring at him. "I didn’t even blink, and you were right behind me. She planted her feet, arms folded tightly across her chest to hide the shaking. What are you? Because you sure as hell aren’t human."

Gwen couldn’t explain it; she just knew it to be true deep down inside. Like a memory from long ago, hazy and fragmented, lost to the passage of time. And his eyes... They were unlike anything she had ever seen. The way they seemed to shine with an inner light, to say nothing of the speed he’d just exhibited. It was like the bedtime stories her father used to tell her had come to life. Stories about mythical creatures and far-off places. Stories of gods and other powerful beings, both malevolent and benign.

I suppose there’s no point in hiding it from you, Forneus replied, subdued. I am a daemon; an entity born of this Earth, moulded by the gods of old.

There’s no such thing…

Forneus frowned. As what?

Daemons, gods—take your pick!

There are, Forneus told her. "I know this must come as something of a shock, but you did ask. I wouldn’t have felt it justified to continue withholding the truth from you, especially not now." There was regret in his voice, but Gwen scarcely noticed.

Her mind was reeling with the information he had given her, one emotion after the other rising to the surface, struggling for dominance over the others. Disbelief turned into certainty, fear into acceptance, and back again. She had no reason to trust this man, this daemon, as he’d called himself. Absolutely none. And yet in spite of all her reasoning, in spite of everything logic stated was impossible, she couldn’t help actually believing him. Every word he’d spoken rang with truth, mirroring the stories she’d heard. Stories of beings that were neither god nor human, but existed somewhere in-between. Beings that served the gods and watched over humanity in their stead, protecting them…

Get it together Gwen, she admonished herself, gripping the wall for support. Okay, so he’s not human—that much is obvious. It doesn’t mean that you can trust everything that comes out of his mouth. For all you know, he—

A sudden flash of golden light came from the living room, chasing all thought from her mind. She looked at Forneus, frightened, the self-proclaimed daemon offering her a puzzled look in return. Both turned simultaneously at the sound of approaching footsteps, Gwen unconsciously drawing closer to Forneus in fear.

The light faded, flickering like a dying flame. Out of the darkness emerged a figure, his auburn hair turning a fiery red as he stepped into the pale glow coming through the kitchen window.

Gwen found herself instinctively moving to stand behind Forneus when the figure approached, her mouth suddenly dry.

Hello, Forneus. It’s been far too long.

*

Gwen stood rooted to the spot, unable to coax her muscles into moving, however desperately she wanted to. Her pajama shirt clung to her back from the cold sweat that had broken out across her skin, the palms of her hands clammy.

Her gaze flitted over the newcomer, sizing him up from head to toe. Two gold hoops in his right ear, each engraved with the shape of what looked like a bird. Jeans and a simple white t-shirt, an unzipped black leather jacket completing the ensemble.

Who is he? What is he? Fear clawed its way up from the pit of her stomach and into her throat when his eyes met hers, her heart pounding deafeningly in her ears.

Whatever he was, he wasn’t human; of that much she was certain. A human wouldn’t have entered her house in a flash of light, for starters, and there wasn’t a person alive with eyes that same brilliant, mottled shade of amber—or was it gold? They seemed to be shifting from one colour to the other, depending on just where the light hit them. There was something very, very unsettling about those eyes…

Forneus smiled warmly, shaking hands with the stranger. A long time, indeed. Seventy-five years, last I thought on it.

As if you haven’t been tracking it to the last Nano-second in that little bubble of yours, the man replied, his lips quirking into a wry grin.

Gwen’s eyes widened. Seventy-five years?

She stared at the duo, perplexed. Forneus looked as if he was in his mid-thirties at most, the newcomer appearing younger, still. In his late twenties, maybe. No matter how she sliced it, they looked younger than her parents. And yet, considering the very unorthodox way in which they’d both entered her home—and Forneus’s nineteenth-century clothing, besides—was it really so farfetched that he might be decades older than he seemed? Perhaps even centuries? Not to mention he had appeared out of thin air. Like magic.

And what of the newcomer? She couldn’t venture to guess just how old he really was.

Or what he was, for that matter.

Legs shaking, Gwen grabbed hold of the kitchen counter for support. Neither of the men appeared to notice, the duo continuing to speak in hushed tones.

Oh god, I’m going to faint. It was only when they looked back at her that she realized she was hyperventilating.

Miss? Are you all right? Forneus asked, taking a step toward her and resting a hand on her shoulder. You’re rather pale.

Gwen shrugged him off, her gaze flicking between him and the newcomer. Don’t touch me, she demanded, "and who the hell is he?"

She thought she saw the faintest hint of sadness in Forneus’s eyes, the silver dimming to grey as he withdrew from her. She didn’t have long to ponder on it, however, as the newcomer turned to look at her, head tilted to one side. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he turned back to Forneus with a frown.

Wait, is this girl—?

Yes, Forneus replied, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. She is.

Well, I’ll be damned…

Gwen felt her shock dissipating, giving way to anger. What the hell do they think I am, some kind of zoo animal? Gritting her teeth, she rounded on them, fighting against the tremor in her voice. "Did you even hear me? Who are you? She drew herself up to her full height, though it amounted to little next to theirs, and glared at them. Look, you either answer me or leave, I don’t care which. Otherwise, I’m gonna—"

The man with the golden eyes suddenly reached out toward her, and Gwen recoiled, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in the process. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but she was suddenly afraid.

Upon hearing quiet laughter, she peeked from beneath her lashes, her eyes widening in surprise. He was less than a foot away from her, his hand resting on the countertop next to her hip. The sudden proximity was unnerving, and she was about to tell him off in a last-ditch effort to seem less afraid than she was, when he spoke.

Well, aren’t you a jumpy little thing, he chuckled, grinning crookedly at her. "Not that it’s any of your business, human, but the name is Phenex."

Annoyed, she glared up at him. The feeling passed as what he said sank in.

Wait…does he mean…? "Like the bird, phoenix?" she asked aloud, feeling her cheeks warm in embarrassment when he sneered back at her.

"Not just like it, little girl, Gwen made a sound of protest at his gibe, but he ignored her. My kind were already ancient when yours were still nothing more than simple-minded beasts. Though from what I’ve seen, not a lot has changed."

Gwen considered making a scathing remark when both men suddenly stiffened, their gazes going toward the kitchen window. Forneus moved closer to her while Phenex crossed over to the window, drawing back the filmy white curtain with a scowl.

Shit, he swore, moving to join Forneus at Gwen’s other side. We’ve got trouble.

What? What is it? What’s going on? Gwen glanced frantically between them, letting out a gasp when they simultaneously grabbed hold of her arms. Hey, what are you doing? Let me go!

Warmth washed over her, each nerve ending tingling as if little bolts of electricity were dancing across the surface of her skin. The heat was particularly overwhelming where Phenex’s fingers met the inside of her forearm, almost like standing too close to the oven.

As a bubble of golden light radiated around them, she stopped struggling, her mouth hanging open when she caught a glimpse of movement outside the window. Before she could discern what it was, everything exploded into dazzling colour, the kitchen vanishing as she was pulled into nothingness.

Chapter Two

The moment her feet touched ground, Gwen stumbled away from both men and began retching.

My apologies. Forneus’s voice came from behind her, his hand resting lightly between her shoulder blades. I should have warned you before teleporting. It can be a pretty jarring experience the first time around.

Teleporting? Her stomach fluttered, threatening to unleash another torrent. Gwen tucked her head against her knees, willing the sickness to pass.

Tch. Phenex scoffed, voice dropping to an undertone. Human beings are far too delicate.

Gwen scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, and glared over her shoulder at him. "You know, for someone who doesn’t like humans, you don’t seem to mind looking like one."

What the hell am I doing? I must be out of my mind.

Though he had done nothing but insult her since introducing himself, there was something about Phenex that suggested she was better off not picking a fight with him. Who knew what he was capable of?

Watch your tone, girl, he said, eyes flashing. The only reason I don’t take my true form is because it does more harm than good in the mortal wor— He faltered, lips pulling into a grimace as he glanced in Forneus’s direction.

Gwen’s gaze flickered from one to the other, scowling at the look that passed between them. You were going to say ‘mortal world’, weren’t you? When neither of them spoke, she demanded, Well? Answer me!

Phenex rounded on her, nostrils flaring. "Who are you to demand answers from us?"

Ignoring the voice at the back of her mind that urged caution, she rose to her feet. "Oh, I don’t know. I’m just the girl you kidnapped! I have no idea who you are or what’s going on. I don’t know how I’m going to explain disappearing in the middle of the night to my dad…I don’t even know where I am right now!" She gestured helplessly at the expanse of empty field surrounding them.

There wasn’t a single tree or building, not a soul in sight. Just an endless sea of green as far as the eye could see, rippling like waves in the evening breeze. A half-moon surrounded by stars shone high above, brighter than Gwen had ever seen them.

We’re on the outskirts of town, Forneus informed her, drawing her attention back to him. I thought it would be less of a shock if we brought you here, first.

First? No, you know what? Forget it. Gwen gave a frustrated sigh, pressing her fingertips against her temples. I don’t know why you took me in the first place, but I’m not going anywhere with you. She started to walk off, heedless of the long grass soaking the cuffs of her pajama bottoms, when a hand came down on her shoulder, stopping her.

I know you’re scared, said Forneus, his voice gentle. It’s been a trying evening for us all. But you mustn’t go off on your own—it’s not safe.

Gwen shrugged out of his grasp. "Oh, it’s not safe out there," she scoffed, "but I’m supposed to believe I’m safe with you?"

You ought to be thanking us, Phenex said scornfully, peering down at her through a fringe of reddish-brown hair, arms crossed. If we hadn’t taken you with us, you’d probably be dead by now. Or worse. Now that the seals have been released—

Forneus clapped a hand on Phenex’s shoulder, stopping him mid-tirade. Easy, old friend. Remember, she is but a child.

Gwen scowled. Child? Then latching onto what Phenex had said, she thought, Wait—what did he mean, ‘seals’?

Forneus, please, Phenex said, voice hitching with exasperation, this is serious. You know that better than anyone.

Indeed, I do. Forneus’s expression grew solemn. "But she’s right. Regardless of our reasons, we did drag her into this. As such, it’s only fair that we let her know what we’re up against. Like it or not, she’s involved now, and after what we sensed back at her home…well, I’d say there is a high probability she’s been targeted."

Gwen felt the blood drain from her face. "Targeted? By who…a-and why? Another sickening realization hit her and she took hold of Forneus’s lapels. What about my dad? Will he be all right? We have to go back! Please!"

Calm down, Forneus soothed, gently taking hold of her hands. No harm will come to your father, I promise.

How do you know? How can you be sure that he—?

I just received word from Terran, Phenex cut in, holding his first two fingers against his left temple. The First Unit is on their way to the girl’s house already. Once the threat level’s been assessed, we can decide what to do from there. For now, we should report back to the council.

Forneus sighed.

After everything that’s happened, I expect you’re right. Then turning to Gwen, he said, I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to go home. At least, not for a while.

He seemed genuinely sorry, but Gwen didn’t care. Her whole life—everything she’d ever known or believed to be real—had been turned upside down in the course of a single night. Despair settled in the pit of her stomach like a stone, hard and unyielding. Dad was probably on his way home from work right now, might even already be there, frantically looking for her…and she had no way of letting him know she was all right. Worse still, she had no way of knowing that he was all right; all she had was Forneus’s word.

And really, what was that worth? She didn’t even know him, so how could she trust him—especially with something as important as her father’s safety?

When two hands suddenly grabbed her upper arms, one gentler than the other, Gwen jolted. What the hell do you think you’re doing? she said, wrenching herself free. To his credit, Forneus withdrew without complaint; Phenex, on the other hand, glowered at her.

It isn’t safe for you here. At least not right now, Forneus explained. We’ve been given clearance to take you with us.

I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on! Gwen said hotly. After being abducted in the middle of the night by…whatever the hell you are, I don’t think it’s a lot to ask!

"You self-centred child, Phenex growled, there is a lot more at stake than your—"

Forneus raised a hand. Easy, Phenex. For a moment, it seemed Phenex would argue. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, averting his gaze with a snort.

Sighing, Forneus turned to Gwen, bending so that his silver eyes were level with her green ones. I promise, I will tell you whatever you want to know once we’re somewhere safe. But for now, he straightened, holding