Spirits: Book One: Spirits, #1

By Guendalyn Brennan

Picture this: Athens, Greece, 600 BC. It's a hot and humid summer, and someone is stealing the magic of the gods. 
Arlen and Oleander are two nature spirits that are minding their own business-- stealing fruit from gods' temples, running away from guards, generally just trying to survive, that sort of thing-- when the goddess Artemis finds them and drags them into the worst situation they have ever dealt with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Guendalyn Brennan
• Release date: Aug 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949591033

Guendalyn Brennan

Guendalyn K. Brennan lives in New Mexico with her family, two dogs, and two cats. She has a degree in robotics, and she could have been an engineer if it weren’t for the voices of all the characters that live in her head. In the time that she manages to rip back from the void of YouTube, she likes to make cosplay and plushes of her favorite characters (both other people’s and her own) and to draw as much as possible. She has occasionally dabbled in the agony of animation.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 Guendalyn K. Brennan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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 your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN-13: 978-1-949591-03-3

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

First printing edition 2018.

www.starheartenterprises.com

DEDICATION

Firstly, this book is dedicated to my parents for letting me watch so much TV. That was very important for my development. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have these voices in my head without it.

Secondly, to my brother for making up so many stories with me in our formative years. Stories that should never ever see the light of day. For the better of all mankind.

Without you three I wouldn't be who I am. Thank you.

This book is also dedicated to two of the people who have inspired me the most and taught me that I can achieve my dreams:

Sean McLoughlin

&

Mark Fischbach

PART ONE

ARLEN SWALLOWED HARD, ignoring the way he could feel the throb of his pulse in his hands. He had run too hard and too fast, and every breath burned as he forced himself to breathe through his nose. He needed to stay quiet, invisible. He dug his fingers harder into the cypress he was clinging to, feeling the tips of his claws sinking deep into the soft bark.

He raised his gaze from the empty dirt trail below to Oleander, who was hanging from a branch on a tree across the path. Arlen hoped, and not for the first time, that the streak of bright red in Oleander’s dark hair would go unnoticed. Oleander let go of the branch with one hand to hold a finger to his lips.

Arlen grimaced. Dumb-ass. He stuck his tongue out at his friend and returned to scanning the path. The guards hadn’t passed yet, and they usually came a little farther before giving up.

Sure enough, a small band of men ambled along the path. Two of them carried swords, and one was in full hoplite armor, evidently the leader of the group. They stopped just under the trees Arlen and Oleander were hiding in.

Why do we even bother? one of the men asked.

One of the two holding a sword shrugged, and got smacked upside the head with wooden part of the hoplite’s spear.

We don’t let anybody get away with stealing from our goddess Athena, it don’t matter how magical they are. The hoplite looked up, and Arlen held his breath, hoping that the summer foliage would be enough to disguise them. The hoplite shook his head and started heading back. The rest followed him, the first speaking up again.

So does that mean we’d have’ta arrest, like, Artemis if she stole from Athena?

If she stole from our temple, the leader grumbled.

It was a few minutes until the arguing voices drifted into nothing more than the soft breeze. Still, Arlen waited for a few minutes longer to be certain. He dropped down out of the cypress and landed on the path, dust puffing out around his bare feet. He brushed shavings of bark and chunks of needles off his grimy tunic. They needed to get a change of clothes soon, or at least find a river to wash in.

Oleander landed nearby, stumbling as he hit the ground. Another day, another run.

He stretched his arms out, then down to touch his toes. Bits of twigs and whole chunks of cypress needles were sticking out of his matted hair.

Arlen flicked a hand through his hair self-consciously, and his tail twitched in irritation. We could’a been killed! he snapped.

But we weren’t! Oleander pulled a fruit out of his pack and tossed it to Arlen. And we get to eat.

Arlen glared, but wiped the fig off. He started off along the trail, away from the city and the temple they had just raided. Sacred fruits. The gods truly were spoiled. He bit into the sweet fig, feeling the juice running down his chin. He wiped it away and licked his fingers clean. There’s gotta be a better way, he grumbled through his mouthful.

Oleander shrugged, swallowing his own mouthful of an apple. Apollo’d be cool with us taking from him, but one of us would have to flirt with him.

The look Oleander was giving him seemed to be trying to say which of them would be doing the flirting. Arlen held back a shudder at the thought of having to string along something that powerful, and shook his head. I ain’t getting involved with a god.

Me neither. So we’re stuck. Oleander elbowed him. So where to now?

I want water. We’ve been inland too long.

Oleander groaned. Water’s no fun.

Arlen huffed. It’s my element, ye fuckwad! It’ not like I can jus’ summon it up like ye can with yer fire!

Oleander put a hand on his chest, his eyes wide in mock shock. I am offended. I have been carrying this canteen for miles, and now you’re telling me that this bottle isn’t enough water for you?

Arlen hissed noncommittally and popped the last bite of the fig in his mouth.

The path was well worn and easy to follow, unlike most of the roads they had traveled. Honestly speaking, any path was better than the animal trails that he had known in his old home, but their few months in Delphi had made him spoiled. He missed the ease of a stone path.

They traveled at a slow pace. There wasn’t anywhere important to get to, nothing urgent to rush them. Arlen ran his hand against the wispy bristles of the bushes that grew in wild abandon along the path. The sun was dipping towards the horizon when there was a rustling from the bushes to the left of them. Arlen paused mid-step, scanning the area.

Someone burst out from the leaves, doing a cartwheel.

Arlen jumped back in surprise. He rolled his eyes but smiled when he recognized the woman who was now bowing to an imaginary audience.

Thank you, thank you! she said with a grin. I’ll be here all day.

Hey Evette, how are you doing? Oleander asked, sounding a little dreamy. Arlen rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little at how obvious Oleander’s crush still was. It had been at least a month since Oleander had confessed, and been rejected. He didn’t seem to be taking seeing her again too hard, honestly, considering that she had left them afterwards.

Come to think of it, Arlen himself was actually a little irritated by her leaving. It was good to see her alive and well, though.

Evette tipped her chin up and gave a wide wave at their surroundings. Amazing! How could I not, on such a glorious day? She spun around and headed forward along the path, waving them along to follow her. Something about her smile was a little too forced. Arlen didn’t think she had expected to see them.

There’s a buzz in the air boys! she continued. Can you feel it?

Arlen tried his best to reach out and examine the energy in the world around them. There was nothing unusual, aside from the hyper fluttering from her. I got nothin’.

Me neither, Oleander added.

Ah, not your element, I guess. Maybe you’ll learn, though. Evette spun in a circle with her arms out, skipping as she walked. She gave a soft gasp. Maybe there’s going to be a great gale! There is so much promise here! She threw her head back, eyes closed and long blonde curls flying out in a halo around her head.

Were ye jus’ waitin’ in th’ bushes ta jump out at someone? Arlen asked.

Evette gave him an easy, bright smile. No, of course not! That would be silly! I was taking a nap.

That explained the leaves poking out of her hair that made it look even more bush-like than usual. Arlen resisted the urge to brush out his own hair, knowing that there wasn’t anything there that he could wipe off, despite the nagging feeling saying that he was covered in leaves.

Evette spun around to face them. There’s something happening, a great big swell like before a magnificent storm! I’m surprised you don’t feel it. She pointed to Arlen.

Although, she continued, you are young yet. You probably just don’t know how to sense the more subtle things right now.

She was probably right, but still Arlen glared. He tried to brush off his frustration. Spirits were peaceful, after all. The gods were the volatile ones. Spirits were supposed to be calm and not angry, especially water spirits.

Arlen was having less and less luck with that, though.

Evette looked around, hands on her hips. It’s getting late, where are you boys gonna camp?

‘We’ll jus’ find a soft spot somewhere," Arlen said.

Evette gave him a look that was somewhere between sympathetic and horrified. You two are so sad. Have you ever slept in an actual bed?

Arlen wasn’t sure why she was acting like she didn’t know, since they had spent most of their time in Delphi together and none of them had even seen in a bed. Maybe she had found an actual house to sleep in since she had left.

Yes, Oleander said, sounding offended. Of course we have. It’s not like we’re always sleeping in the dirt somewhere.

Yeah, we’re not complete hobos, Arlen added. Of course it wasn’t true, but he wanted to back Oleander up. A bed would be nice sometime, though. Even just the thought of sleeping on an actual pillow was cozy.

Evette looked back and forth between them, incredulity obvious on her face. She shrugged. Well, I’m traveling through the night, you know me. I’ll be seeing you boys. She waved at them, and continued on at a much quicker pace. She was soon out of sight.

We’re complete fucking hobos, Arlen said.

We’re hobos with standards and pride! Oleander corrected in a near shout. And I will not have our good names dragged through the mud.

Yeah, we need that mud fer sleeping on. Arlen crossed his arms, ignoring the irritated look Oleander was giving him. He climbed a tree and looked around for somewhere nice enough to sleep for the night. There was a spot that looked decently flat behind a rock, and he nodded to himself. He clambered back down, trying to be careful not to scrape himself on broken bits of stray branches. He managed to get jabbed only five times, which was a new record.

Oleander was sitting cross-legged and drawing little figures of people in the dirt with a stick.

Arlen grinned wickedly to himself and swiped the dirt clear with his tail.

Oleander glared up at him. I take it you found a good spot.

Yeah. Arlen pushed through a prickly bush and led Oleander fairly deep into the woods until they reached the rock he had spotted. He spread out his arms. Home sweet home.

Oleander shook his head. I’m starting to think Evette has a point. Maybe we should get an actual home.

Arlen scoffed and sat down. If ye wanna get a real job, then that’s fine with me!

Oleander’s grimace deepened. I mean, we could try and convince someone to let us live with them.

Oh, I can hear that conversation already! ‘Excuse me sir, but my friend and I need a permanent place of residence, d’ye mind if we stick with ye? Marketable skills? I’ve no idea what yer talking about, we haven’t done anything in our entire lives.’ Go over real smooth.

Oleander flopped down next to him. I don’t hear you giving any ideas.

I don’t hear me complaining about our lives, Arlen countered.

I’m just saying that it could be better, Oleander said. He sighed.

Arlen bit his cheek, then shrugged. Jus’ go ta sleep. No point in dwellin’.

I am not dwelling.

I can hear the gears clickin’ in yer head. Arlen rolled over and laid with his back against the rock. He closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep listening to Oleander huff and hum to himself the way he always did when he was coming up with a plan for them.

A BRANCH CRUNCHED, and Arlen jerked awake. He was on guard and bristling, head tilted to listen for some other sound. A faint hoot of an owl, and the sound of the wind rustling through the bushes and the trees.

Oleander was still asleep, but that wasn’t unusual.

Arlen sat up and peeked over the top of the rock. Someone was stalking carefully, almost silently through the shadows cast by the moonlight. In their hand was what looked like a bow, and he ducked back down. He was pretty sure the person hadn’t caught sight of him, and that was a small mercy.

He put his hand over Oleander’s mouth, and gently shook his shoulder to wake him. Oleander flailed, and Arlen dropped down, half laying across him to keep him from being visible.

Someone’s out there, Arlen whispered as low as he could.

Oleander stilled, and Arlen peeked over the rock again to check where that someone was. The forest was dark and empty, as still as it should have been.

The sharp sound of a bowstring being pulled drew his attention to his left. A hooded figure stood next to them, cloak hiding their features and bow drawn.

Who are you? a feminine voice asked.

Arlen swallowed hard, distracted by the arrow pointing directly at his chest.

We’re just two forest hobos! Oleander yelped.

What he said! Arlen agreed, holding his hands up in surrender.

The bow lowered. Not how people usually introduce themselves. There was a soft chuckle, and the person threw their hood back.

Arlen and Oleander both gasped.

Arlen had been in enough temples that even in the dim moonlight, it was clear that the Goddess Artemis was standing before them. There was a small smirk on her face. Relax. I am not here to hurt you, I am on a midnight hunt.

She started to head off in the direction of the road, but paused and turned to face them again. Join me.

The two of them looked at each other.

Oleander shook his head, mouthing, Bad idea.

There was a strange sort of feel around her. Something that Arlen was new to. Perhaps it was just the power that gods held, but it made him deeply unwilling to deny her request.

Arlen grinned at Artemis. We’d love to!

He heard Oleander make a distressed squeaking sound next to him.

The smirk on her face grew more smug, and she continued walking. Arlen scrambled after her, following at a bit of a distance.

Oleander caught up to him soon. We should be going the other direction! he hissed in a low whisper.

I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure it’s rude ta ignore a god’s request, Arlen argued just as quietly.

And what if she’s just leading us to a more convenient killing place? Did you think about that?

Arlen gave Oleander a look, silently pleading for him to have some shred of understanding. It’s not Ares we’re dealing with here. Artemis isn’t known fer meaningless violence.

Boys! Artemis interrupted.

They both froze and stared at her.

My worshipers ran off. I wanted company for tonight’s hunt, and you two will do. She gave both of them a serious look, then continued walking.

See? Arlen said. He lowered his voice. I’m pretty sure that means she’s not gonna kill us. He followed after Artemis, trying to keep his steps quiet.

I really hope you’re right, Oleander said, trudging noisily along. It was almost as though he was trying to stomp on every stick along the path. Artemis didn’t seem to care, though, and it made Arlen wonder if she was telling the truth about the hunt.

They walked for some time, taking downright bizarre turns, before Artemis stopped in the middle of the well-worn dirt path they had traveled earlier that day. She looked back and forth down each way of the road. She almost looked hesitant, although Arlen wasn’t sure if that was the right word to describe a god with. She looked at them over her shoulder. What temples are in the city down this path?

Arlen hesitated, counting on his fingers. Athena, Zeus I think.

Hera, Oleander added. One really small one to Dionysus.

None to me or Apollo? Artemis asked.

No, Arlen replied.

Artemis faced down the other side of the road. Then we head to Athens.

Oleander grabbed Arlen’s arm and yanked him back. We are not doing this. Athens? The goddamn namesake city of Athena? The Athena whose temple we just robbed?

It’s by the shore, and ye promised we’d go ta water.

I thought it would be a lake or something! Not the fucking ocean!

Arlen huffed. Ye really think she’s gonna let us get away with jus’ leavin’?

Oleander let go of his arm. This is a horrible idea. The worst idea you’ve ever had, kind of horrible.

Yeah, I get it.

"Athens is big enough,