Rise of the Sons

By JD Mitchell

Ali McMillian almost drowned. It wasn’t a run-of-the-mill accident either; a large horse jumped out of the lake and dragged her under. If it hadn’t been for high school hotshot Leigh Hart, it might have succeeded. She was content to chalk the incident up to a delusion, except creatures are stalking her from the shadows. Someone wants her dead, but why?



Thrust into a magical world, Ali learns mythology is more than old tales. A dangerous enemy has resurfaced, and she is a target.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JD Mitchell
• Release date: Jan 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781737981107

Book preview

One

Her lungs ached, but Ali ran faster. She was late. Again.

Jessica–her perfect sister–would scold her for sure. She had two minutes to reach her destination or face another sermon on responsibility. To be fair, it’s not like she’d been up late playing video games. Edgar Allan Poe was the culprit, which resulted in eerie dreams of a shadow man and a liberal use of the snooze button this morning. Ali could lie and tell Jessica it was a reading assignment, but then she’d have to fabricate evidence. Her best bet was to beat the bell.

Sweat trickled down the small of her back as she raced up the concrete steps. She ripped open the front door and charged inside the school like a stampeding elephant. Her canvas sneakers squeaked on the vinyl tile as she sprinted across the empty hallways before sliding to a halt.

With a wheeze, she adjusted her backpack to distribute the weight across her willowy frame and pushed her short brunette hair out of her dull brown eyes. The hall clock showed she had thirty seconds remaining.

She fanned herself as she rounded the corner.

A tall figure, completely bald, leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

Leigh Hart.

Ali gaped at his lack of hair. His blue eyes and slender nose were the same, but with his missing hair he looked older. If Ali passed him on the street, she might not recognize him.

The chemo rumor must be true.

Leigh wasn’t a friend, but she couldn’t enter the classroom without passing him and he looked so, pathetic?

Rumor had it Melissa Fairchild split with Leigh over the summer, but the cause was unknown. In the week since the start of school, speculation ran rampant as to his mysterious absence. The prevailing theory had him suffering from heartache, or less cleverly dubbed, ‘hart-ache.’ Another version claimed he underwent chemo as the result of cancer. Either way, Ali didn’t care. The happenings of the popular clique were far from interesting.

Except she couldn’t be ‘hart-less’–ha-ha–and ignore him. Um… are you okay? She asked, pausing just short of the classroom door.

The final bell rang. Shit sticks.

Leigh’s eyes lit with surprise as he looked down at her. I… yeah. Leigh said standing straighter, towering over her in his 6’6 basketball glory.

To his credit, he managed a lazy smile, but his somber eyes betrayed him.

Ali glanced at the door. Melissa was in her history class, and she ventured a guess Leigh was too.

This was so not her problem. She took another step towards the door and stopped. Listen, do you want to walk in with me?

What? Leigh asked.

Ali pointed towards the door. Um… since we’re both late…

Leigh blinked.

Safety in numbers, Ali blurted. Now, she was the pathetic one.

His brow furrowed, but the corner of his mouth turned upward.

Ali took this as a ‘yes,’ although, she wasn’t certain. Leigh wasn’t much of a conversationalist. With a deep breath, Ali grasped the door handle and turned.

Her history teacher, Mr. Brown, stood at the podium as twenty-six pairs of eyes flew to the open door. Or, twenty-five and a half, if you counted Brian Denser, who suffered a football injury last week and was wearing a pirate patch.

Miss. McMillan, glad you could join us, Mr. Brown said, glancing at the wall clock.

Great. He’d report her as tardy, and she’d enjoy another oh-so-dull lecture from Jessica.

Ah, and Mr. Hart, Mr. Brown said with surprise. Welcome back.

All eyes shifted to Melissa, who stopped twirling a blond curl around her manicured finger, green eyes venomous.

With the focus on Leigh, Ali scrambled to her seat, which was next to Melissa.

Mr. Brown frowned and pointed to the empty desk behind Ali. Mr. Hart, please take a seat behind your friend.

Ali shrunk in her chair. She had front row tickets if the school king and queen quarreled. Why didn’t Mr. Brown assign Leigh a seat in the corner?

She smiled meekly at Leigh, who impressively wore a look of laziness. Her chair jerked as Leigh plopped into his desk, allowing his book bag to slam into the floor.

As I was saying, we can learn much from our ancestral history, Mr. Brown said. Miss. McMillian, would you be our first volunteer?

Her face flushed as she glanced at the whiteboard for a clue. Scrawled in marker were the words ancestry and genealogy.

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Brown gestured behind him. Please come to the board and trace your family tree.

The task caught her off guard. Mr. Brown was new, so he must be unaware of her unusual family dynamic. People gossip in this small town, so it was surprising he wasn’t more informed.

No need. Ali cleared her throat. I have a sister, Jessica. My mother, Linda, died a few years ago. Father unknown; end of tree.

Mr. Brown pursed his lips.

Ali didn’t bother to explain they were transplants in this tiny hellhole of a town.

Okay- to be fair, most people would call it quaint. It was one of those seaside tourist destinations. Which, she’d never understand the appeal. There were three restaurants, a few trinket-type shops, some boats, and a rocky beach that never seemed to get wider than twelve feet. How their town attracted residents, let alone tourists was a mystery. But for a reason unknown to Ali, her mother shoved their small family into a car without warning, and the following morning Ali woke up here. If she had aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents, she’d never know. Her mother had refused to talk about the past, then she died in a car crash taking the answers with her. If it weren’t for Jessica’s willingness to fight for Ali, their family of two would have been separated by social services.

"This semester we’ll use Ancestrytree.edu to research your family lineage," Mr. Brown said abandoning his probe into Ali’s family.

A collective groan greeted him in answer.

Mr. Brown brightened. Perhaps you’ll learn something.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of lectures in science, math, and literature. The highlight of her day was the issuance of reading assignments in her literature class. Poe and Plath made the syllabus. A bright mark on an otherwise bleak semester.

When school ended, it felt like she’d lost a week of her life. The day was long and the books she lugged grew heavy. She tossed her backpack into her old Volkswagen and attempted to turn it over. The car sputtered and died.

No, no, no… Ali tried again. The car whined, then flat lined.

Her Volkswagen had been on the fritz for a few weeks. Annoyed, she grabbed her backpack, slammed the car door shut, and trudged toward the lake trail.

The humid air cooled as she entered the canopy of trees, reminding her of the strange shadow man. He lingered on the edge of her consciousness this morning, fading when her alarm clock sounded. Ali had tried to force herself back into the dream, but the subsequent alarms from her repetitive use of the snooze button made it impossible. Then she was late.

Sighing, she adjusted her backpack where the straps cut into her shoulder. In hindsight, she should’ve left some of her books in her car. Too late. At least the scenery was worth the long trek home. The trail meandered through the earthy woods. She thought the trees were oak, but trees only fell in two categories: Oak or Christmas. Careful not to trip over a gnarly root, she rounded a corner as the lake came into view. Ali loved the lake. The gentle water lapping onto the shore soothed her.

She walked to where the water tickled the sand, retreating and advancing in a gentle dance. The peaty smell of algae lightly perfuming the warm air.

A large splash in the distance caught her attention. The water shot into the air like someone jumped off a diving board and did a cannonball into a pool. Ali squinted, but the waves settled into ripples, then the water calmed. At this distance she could have misjudged the size of the splash. The most likely culprit was a fish.

An insect buzzed her head, and she swatted it away.

With a final glance, Ali moved back onto the path and set a slow pace home. The sun warmed her skin, and she smiled. Numbered were the days of hot weather. Fall would creep in soon, then winter would take hold and seize the lake. Its creamy textures would turn brittle when it froze. Not enough to form trustworthy skating ice, but enough to look barren.

Today the water rippled in vibrant colors. Greens, teals, and purples raced along the bottom silt in shimmering flashes. Ali stopped.

Purple?

She crept closer to the shoreline, seeing what looked like a purple fish. An outline formed the shape of a torso. She’d heard of a wolffish. Ali knew nothing about them, but maybe they were large.

A long slender appendage jutted downward into the silt, no wait… Four legs protruded from a torso and a head.

What the heck… What animal was purple with four legs?

She scrambled away from the shoreline as the creature emerged like a submarine breaching the surface. Shock rooted her in place. The creature wasn’t purple, but gray; and its legs had scales like a pangolin. Water streamed down its long face into its nostrils, dripping into the sand.

A horse! A freaking horse!

One word rattled the sensible part of her brain.

Run.

Her body didn’t cooperate. Instead, a hiss of a whisper drowned out reason.

Stay.

It whinnied but didn’t approach. Paralyzed, Ali sifted through every bit of information she remembered about horses. Do horses swim underwater? Can they hold their breath?

Mostly, the horse seemed normal. Except its cold, lifeless eyes.

Adrenaline surged through her arms and legs, burning, aching for her to run. But the voice insisted.

No need to run.

The horse pawed at the ground with a backwards hoof, spraying sand bursts before kneeling.

She took a step back.

Crazy as it sounds, Ali was certain the horse wanted her to go for a ride. Its dead eyes bore into her. Neither of them moved. Even as Ali’s heart thumped, the voice crept further into her head willing her to move closer.

I should pet it.

Her book bag slid into the sand with a thwack.

In a slow motion, Ali extended her hand. The horse didn’t move, allowing her to touch its slick coat. Enthralled, she ran her fingers over the oily texture. The slime growing sticky until her hand couldn’t move. She tried to pull away but couldn’t. Her hand was stuck.

Fear swept through her as the horse plunged into the lake, dragging her with it.

Thrust into murky greens, blues, and browns, Ali held her breath as the jolt of cold water assaulted her.

I’ll drown.

Panicked, Ali tried to yank her hand free.

Nothing.

She jerked harder, but she couldn’t free herself.

A spark tickled her palm, the sensation startling her. Suddenly, she could wiggle her fingers. She jerked her hand again. An electric shock bit her palm as she pulled herself free.

Immediately she reached towards the surface, pushing herself through the icy water. Her lungs burned, but she kicked harder, fighting against her shoes which slowed her efforts.

Two hands grasped under her armpits and pulled her above the surface of the water.

She gasped.

Air filled her lungs as she choked and sputtered. Breathing was painful, then a relief. She collapsed into the sand, her clothes heavy and constricting. Dirty lake water dripped from her mouth and nose as she coughed. As her brain cleared, the immediate danger registered. She was still near the water’s edge.

Panicked, wet fabric fought her as she stumbled toward the path. A hand seized her by the arm, stopping her. Water streamed into her eyes and she blindly swung her fists, falling backwards onto her butt.

Are you insane! someone yelled.

Ali scrambled away like a crab, her vision refocusing. Leigh stood before her. Water rolled down his forehead, dripping onto his wet clothes.

What the hell are you doing? Leigh wiped his face in disgust.

Her mind screamed at her to run, but her body was heavy. She looked at her pale shaking hands. Was she cold or in shock?

There was… a horse. Ali pointed toward the water.

Leigh’s eyes widened, then narrowed. What horse?

Ali’s lips quivered. I…

Leigh’s mouth pressed into a firm line and he extended his hand. Reluctantly Ali grasped his warm fingers, allowing him to help her upright. Sand clung to her clothes and skin. She attempted to brush it off her face, but only pushed it onto her neck. She wanted to strip down to her underwear and remove her restrictive clothes, but not in front of Leigh. Instead, she hugged herself and stared into the now serene lake. The water appeared harmless. A deception if she ever saw one.

Are you hurt? Leigh asked. His expression unreadable.

Ali shook her head. I-I need to go home.

Leigh’s brows furrowed. He picked both of their book bags off the sand and slung one over each shoulder. I’ll walk you.

He didn’t ask, he told; but Ali couldn’t form a coherent argument to tell him no. Not that she wanted to be alone. Honestly, she was lucky he came along. Ali rarely saw anyone on this path. Shivering, she ran her hands over the goose pimples on her arms. What are you doing out here?

Leigh hesitated, averting his gaze. I was hoping to bump into you.

What? Ali asked, temporarily distracted.

I wanted to thank you for this morning, then I saw you in the lake. His gaze shifted back towards the lake, his eyes narrowing.

Ali nodded, uncertain of what to say. Instead, she hurried towards the trees, keeping one eye on the water until its blue surface vanished.

What was that monster?

Two

Ali didn’t go to her classes the following day. She made up a bull crap story about having the flu. At least she looked the part. Lack of sleep left her eyes bloodshot. Every time she dozed, a gray horse drug her into the depths. Except now, the shadow man watched from the shore. She drowned a dozen times in her sleep, startling herself awake as she gasped for air. The essence of bad fish sautéed in dirty rainwater lingering.

She wanted to confide in Jessica but didn’t have a logical explanation. Even her internet searches came up empty. A large fish? A hallucination? A prank? This led her to her current predicament.

What happened?

At a quarter till four, the doorbell rang. Ali didn’t budge from the plush couch, but the visitor became persistent. After the third buzz, she threw the quilt aside and shuffled into the foyer. It was likely Jessica left work early and locked herself out. Except when Ali opened the door, Leigh stood there.

Hi? Her tongue grated across the roof of her mouth like sandpaper. She’d drank nothing that day, the thought of water turned her stomach.

We should talk, Leigh said as he crossed the threshold and pushed past her into the foyer.

Come inside… I guess. Ali gestured toward the living room, bothered by his blatant disregard of an invitation.

Leigh either didn’t notice her disapproval or didn’t care. He walked in the direction she pointed and stopped at the end of the foyer, his eyes widening.

Right. The décor.

Over the years, Ali had grown accustomed to Jessica’s decorating, and forgot it resembled a Henri Julien Rousseau painting.

Jessica loved plants. When their mother died, their tiny house was a constant reminder of her absence. Each knick-knack held a memory. Ali came home one afternoon to find the trinkets packed up and plants in their place. It upset her at first, but Jessica had seemed relieved. So, Ali lied and told Jessica she liked the jungle that was now the living room.

Mostly, Ali ignored the flora. Her domain was the center of the room where old blue couches flanked a short wicker coffee table.

She climbed under her patchwork quilt, pulling the covers to her chin.

You should see the kitchen, Ali said watching Leigh’s comically large eyes as they surveyed the room. There’s an herb garden, and what I can only describe as a shrine to coffee.

Maybe next time, Leigh said as he plopped onto the other couch. You missed school.

A plethora of thoughts raced through her brain. Drowning, a monstrous horse dragging her under, muddy lake water… She shook her head. None of those thoughts were coming out of her mouth.

I wanted to check on you. Leigh said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at her. To his credit, he seemed concerned.

Ali hadn’t expected questions from Leigh. He had his own problems, so an interest in her was surprising. Without meaning to, her attention drifted to his bald head. She thought he’d lose his eyebrows with chemo, but they were thick as ever. Leigh didn’t appear sick–just bald.

A frown formed on Leigh’s lips.

Oh fudge. He caught me staring.

Ali looked away and shrugged. There wasn’t a reasonable explanation to the horse.

I tripped, nothing to it.

Leigh pressed her. Did you pop any pills yesterday?

Annoyed, her eyes snapped back to his. Are you kidding me?

Leigh settled into the cushions like he expected to hang out. I figured you might’ve been on shrooms. I know some of the cheerleaders went straight Super Mario last week.

Her nostrils flared at the accusation.

I didn’t eat mushrooms or hallucinate. I’m fine. Ali stood and nodded toward the front door. Thanks for the visit.

Leigh hesitated, then stood and held out a piece of paper. I brought this for you.

Crossing her arms, she stared at the paper. If it was literature on a drug prevention program, she might forcibly remove him.

When Ali didn’t grab the paper, he set in on the coffee table. It’s our history assignment. Mr. Brown paired us for the ancestry project.

Ali pursed her lips and glimpsed at it. She doubted her luck was this awful. Are you part of some social outreach program?

What? Leigh’s brows drew together.

Help the nerdy girl because she almost drowned or… what? Ali glared at him.

Leigh’s face fell. This was a mistake.

He scooped up his book bag and headed toward the foyer.

Why’d you come here? Ali asked. He invaded her home, the least he could do was explain himself.

Leigh didn’t bother to look at her. I’m asking myself the same thing. But when he reached the front door his hand lingered on the knob. I wanted to ask about yesterday.

The door opened and shut, leaving Ali alone. The closing of the door felt final. At least he put a firm period on the subject.

Except, now she realized Leigh might have seen something–anything, which could help her figure out this situation. Ali stared at the closed door, regretting her outburst. She’d just rudely kicked out the person who might believe her.

Three

Ali was nervous all morning. The seconds raced by like cars on a track. For once, she wanted the clock to creep, and it disobeyed. Time must only drag during math class.

Figures.

When the warning bell leading to history class chimed, Ali thought she might chicken out. She’d written and re-written the note ten times. Funny how she’d scribble down a poem, convinced of its perfection on the first draft, then spend so much time on the phrase: Can we meet after school?

The first to arrive, Ali gripped the edges of her desk as she waited. Students meandered into the room, most looking tired; a few slugging sodas which were quickly discarded in the waste bin by the door. When Leigh finally strolled in, she averted her eyes, waiting until he slumped into the desk behind her, his knees knocking into her chair. Before she changed her mind, she spun around and slid the note onto his desk. Unfortunately, Melissa chose this same moment to approach Leigh.

Ali froze under Melissa’s cold glare.

Sorry to interrupt, Ali stammered. She reached to withdraw the note, but Melissa snatched it from her.

Stunned, Ali watched as Melissa unfolded the paper and read it. Melissa’s eyes widened, then she slapped the note onto Leigh’s desk with a thud. Without a word, Melissa retreated to her own desk where she heaved her backpack to the floor with an exaggerated huff.

Crap on a cracker.

Excuses tumbled through Ali’s head, but it’s not as though she could articulate the reason she wanted to speak with Leigh. To make matters worse, the note asked to meet, which probably translated to hook-up in Melissa’s mind.

Leigh grasped the note and scowled at Melissa. Really?

Melissa didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on the whiteboard and put on a defiant air.

I’m sorry for whatever I caused, Ali said to Leigh.

Leigh pressed his lips together, then his eyes shifted above her. Ali spun in her chair to find Mr. Brown standing with his fingers clasped.

Are we ready to start class now?

Ali nodded, her cheeks on fire as she slunk into her chair. She must have missed the second bell.

Anything you’d like to share with the rest of us? Mr. Brown asked.

Oh, come on.

Behind her, Leigh cleared his throat. Mr. Brown shifted his gaze to Leigh.

Ali can meet later to work on our project, Leigh said.

Confused, Ali peered over her shoulder. Leigh lazily extended her note toward Mr. Brown who glanced at it.

She held her breath.

I’m happy you’ve taken an interest in the assignment. Mr. Brown said with a frown. He strode to the front of the class, his stern gaze sweeping the room. I hope the rest of you are coordinating your projects.

Ali stole a final glance at Leigh. He shrugged before pocketing the note.

Talk after school? Leigh asked.

Sure. Meet at my locker, Ali mumbled.

When school concluded, she sprinted to her locker debating if she should bail on Leigh. Her resolve was slipping now that she was faced with having the conversation. She hadn’t worked out how to ask Leigh what he saw without sounding like a crazy person. Slamming her English book into the shelf, the metal sides of her locker rattled earning a glare from the girl next to her. Ali barely gave her notice, grabbing her math book to take home.

Are you ready?

Ali closed her locker to find Tommy leaning against the wall. His wavy red hair curled past his ears and his pale blue eyes looked bored. Curse it all to heck. She forgot he drove her to school this morning.

I have to stay late for a project, Ali lied. She couldn’t stomach telling him the truth.

Tommy made a show of looking at his watch. Is this thing broken? He tapped it a few times. Huh. My watch is showing it’s officially the weekend. That’s so odd.

Shrugging, Ali avoided eye contact. She wasn’t exactly known for being proactive.

Her best friend Cheryl appeared, jet-black hair bouncing and green eyes twinkling as she planted a kiss on Tommy’s cheek. He winked at her.

Cheryl grinned, her gaze falling on Ali. Do you want to crash at my place tonight and watch bad sci-fi movies?

The invitation was tempting. As soon as Cheryl stared dating Tommy, girl time became nonexistent. Now it was Cheryl, Tommy, and the third wheel. Ali forced a smile. Rain check? I have a project to work on.

Cheryl raised an eyebrow. Interesting.

Should she talk to Cheryl about the horse? Cheryl wouldn’t judge. She’d focus on finding a rational answer. Ali opened her mouth intending to accept the movie invitation after all, but a baritone voice cut in.

Is now still a good time?

Leigh.

Ali spun on her heels, wishing Tommy and Cheryl were somewhere else. Yep.

Leigh and Tommy exchanged nods. Girls use words, guys had a silent language made up head movements. Someday Ali would decipher the language buried in the gesture, but this wasn’t that day.

Cheryl stared at her, then at Leigh, an unarticulated question on her lips.

Ali did her best to look bored. Off to start that project I mentioned.

Oh, right… the project you mentioned. Cheryl grinned and waggled her eyebrows.

Ignoring Cheryl’s innuendo, Ali changed the subject. Movies tomorrow?

Definitely, Cheryl said. She eyed Leigh with suspicion once more, then grabbed Tommy’s hand and they headed toward the student parking lot.

Your friends seem nice, Leigh said.

Yeah, Ali said watching them go. Cheryl would ask a million questions tomorrow, and Ali didn’t have the first idea of what to tell her.

I drove today, Leigh said nodding the opposite direction. He crammed his hands in his pockets and walked toward the back parking lot.

Oh. Ali assumed they’d have a conversation in the hallway, or an empty classroom. We don’t have to go anywhere.

Yes, we do, Leigh said over his shoulder.

She did a skip to catch up, doing her best to keep pace. Silence filled the space between them, but Ali didn’t possess the courage to start the conversation. Instead, she trailed behind Leigh until they reached the parking lot.

So, where are we going? Ali asked.

Leigh produced car keys and gestured towards a black Chevy blazer. The Clock Tower Café.

Why?

The Clock Tower Café was on the opposite side of town and a popular spot with the high school crowd late at night.

It’ll be empty this time of day, Leigh said. He unlocked the car for her.

Ali dropped her book bag on the floor and slid into the passenger seat. Don’t want to be seen with me after your tiff with Melissa? She grinned.

Leigh regarded her sternly.

Oops. She intended that as a joke. Sorry.

He frowned. It’s fine.

As a heads up, I often put my foot in my mouth, Ali said cringing.

The safe bet was to shut her pie hole. Ali leaned against the window focusing on the world outside the car. Still green and full, she watched the passing trees that lined the roads between school and the café. She caught glimpses of the lake, her heart fluttering at the deceptively still water.

When they neared the fringe of town, the café popped into view. It was an old brown building with a large clock tower that loomed over the café. In the evening, neon lettering lit the sign which was mounted on the side of the building.

Leigh shifted the car into park, scrutinizing the empty parking lot. We shouldn’t be bothered.

Great, she said realizing she still hadn’t worked out how to start the conversation.

Her heart rate quickened as they exited Leigh’s car. What if he didn’t see the horse? She trudged forward, her feet guiding her forward as her brain screamed to bail. As much as she wanted to run, she reminded herself this was important to her sanity. Besides, if she didn’t like his answer, she’d never mention it again.

As they neared the front doors of the café, the shadow from the giant clock tower cast across Ali’s face. The uniform ticks marking the time, a contrast to Ali’s frenzied thoughts. Taking a steadying breath, she entered as Leigh opened the door, the smell of burgers thick on the air.

On the inside, wooden beams supported the old roof which was a leftover from the horse barn that once stood in this spot. Paintings by a local artist hung on the canary yellow walls with small price tags listed below them. It was likely most of these paintings would stay until next summer when the tourists returned.

She lagged behind Leigh, the wooden floor creaking underfoot as they walked toward a brown booth near the corner window and took a seat. As suggested by the parking lot, the diner was empty, minus an