Book I: Modal Shift: Aeolian's War, #1

By Jeff Brown

Jason Garrett is a writer, living his ideal life in a remote cabin outside a small town in Colorado. His life is fine, if a little boring. A sudden storm hits the area and brings with it the arrival of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Her name is Aeolian and she is from the world of Atherra, chosen heir to the throne, and is being pursued by a group attempting to kill her so the man that had her father killed can retain his claim to the throne. She asks for Jason's help and he guides her through the world to reunite her with her group of protectors, defeat those pursuing her, and return home to continue her quest to unseat the usurper king.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Brown
• Release date: May 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201350277

Jeff Brown

Jeff Brown created the beloved character of Flat Stanley as a bedtime story for his sons. He has written other outrageous books about the Lambchop family, including Flat Stanley, Stanley and the Magic Lamp, Invisible Stanley, Stanley’s Christmas Adventure, Stanley in Space, and Stanley, Flat Again! You can learn more about Jeff Brown and Flat Stanley at www.flatstanleybooks.com.

Book preview

The Support

There are others, not directly involved in the creation of this particular work that have proven themselves to be fantastic supporters of my efforts. My heartfelt thanks to them.

Dorothy Howell, Suraya Birkhoff, Rachel D. Fagan, Lynn B. Greene, Sharon Laird, Linda Roberts, Rebecca Wallace, Donna White, Tim Rochel, Andrew Libby, Dennis Freeman, Cleve Langston, Nicole Knight, Shane Adams, Reginald Matthews, Nancy Kruebbe, Steve Mercier, Loria Zeeck, Tim Dunaway, Anthony Washington

OTHER TITLES BY JEFF BROWN

Vampire War: Nemesis

Vampire War: Corruptor

Vampire War: Dark Nation

Vampire War: Fallout

Vampire War: Resistance

Vampire War: Ascension

Vampire War: Redemption

The Last Mage

In The Dark; The Last Mage II

Dawn of Night: The Last Mage III

Blood Sisters: The Last Mage IV

Dead Time Book I

Dead Time Book II

Revelations: The Princess Agenda Part I

Rescue: The Princess Agenda Part II

Exposition: The Princess Agenda Part III

Development: The Princess Agenda Part IV

Recapitulation: The Princes Agenda Part V

Bride: The Hunter Book I

Campus Crusade

Finding Suraya

The New Kid

Refugees

Retaliation

Reunion

The Revolt

Second Chances

Storm Warning

Thirst

Vessels

The Veteran

Another Slant (short stories)

Blurred Visions (short stories)

Seven Wishes (short stories)

MODAL SHIFT

Aeolian’s War, Book I

CHAPTER ONE

The Storm

Gentle rain on the old tin roof of the cabin had been enough to lull Jason Garrett to sleep late on a Friday night after having spent all day with his eyes glued to a computer monitor as he continued the tedious and exhausting process of editing the second draft of his latest novel, the tenth in an ongoing series of dark fantasy novels that sold well enough that he’d been able to give up his former career as a high school teacher and move into the small cabin near the base of a  mountain range in Colorado, far away from his hometown in Mississippi. The rain on the roof, reminiscent of his teenage years, and its gentle pattering, allowed him to fall asleep easily and gave him the rest he desperately needed.

He was rudely awakened a scant few hours later when the rain suddenly intensified into a maelstrom. The pattering on the roof became a hammering, the sound of a thousand hammers on an equal number of anvils. A harsh wind shook the wooden walls of the cabin and rattled the old windows. Flashes of lightning turned the interior of his small bedroom a brilliant blue and were followed quickly by huge claps of thunder that began as a sharp crack and rumbled for moments afterward, echoing off the mountains to the north to produce a sound akin to breaking stone in a steady tattoo. The floor shook as well, causing his small bed to practically quiver beneath him. If he hadn’t known the area better, he would’ve sworn he in the midst of an earthquake.

The first clap of thunder startled him awake, his eyes flashing open in the darkness of the room. As always, he had no light in the room. The room’s single window was covered with a heavy curtain to keep most of the light out, specifically in place for those times he needed a nap during the day. He’d never been able to sleep with light of any kind, not even a night light when he was a child and had been briefly afraid of the dark. He’d soon learned to accept the darkness and it sort of became his friend. When awake, though, he wanted light, craved it. He wanted to see what was around him, primarily the notes and outlines he had for his work in progress. He also liked to have sound there as well, typically the TV tuned to some show or network to give him the sound of human voices while not being forced to interact with them. At night, he wanted complete darkness and complete silence. He was too distracted by either the TV or music, having been something of a musician at one point. He tended to listen to music carefully, analytically, and would focus on it so much that he couldn’t sleep.

It was the first crack of thunder that woke him up and the brilliant glare of lightning that kept him awake. The trembling of the cabin was a source of concern. He wasn’t sure how sturdy the building had been constructed and the storm was going to be its first major test. He wasn’t exactly afraid for himself, but he was afraid that the cabin might suffer some damage. When he woke up, gasping as he sat up in the bed, his eyes opened wide in the dark and, once the initial shock dissipated, he knew it was time to get up and make sure he did what he could to keep his property intact, primarily the computer with the only copy of his newest draft, safe and protected.

He stood up and threw back the thin blanket covering him, wearing a pair of gray sweat pants and an old, pale blue t-shirt. His bare feet hit the cool wooden floor and the sudden jolt of coolness completed the process of waking him up. He stood there for a few seconds, looking around blindly in the dark, and finally focused on the window as a bolt of lightning cleaved the night sky. It was followed almost instantly by the crack of thunder, sharp and short, followed by the low rumble that continued for nearly thirty seconds. Shaking his head, he moved toward the door ahead of him, navigating the darkened room by memory, and reached the door without issue.

Heaving a frustrated and tired sigh, he opened the door and paused before crossing into the living room. It was just as dark as the bedroom and he was as familiar with its layout, but he wanted light, wanted to see everything clearly. He reached to his right and the switch on the wall beside the bedroom door.  He flipped it up and the spacious living room was flooded with warm, soft lighting from an overhead fixture at the center of the room, reminiscent of an old wagon wheel, with four low-wattage bulbs.

The room was sparsely furnished. A small sofa rested to his left, facing the wall with only a small, scuffed coffee table between it and a black wooden stand holding a large TV and a small stereo. To the right was a small table with a pair of chairs intended to be a dinner table, but it was mostly used as a storage site for his notes and research for each novel. Between the two, almost at the center of the room, was his writing desk, holding his computer and printer with a fairly expensive black leather office chair beneath it. A thick black cable ran from the power strip on the floor beneath it to the wall outlet a few feet from the front door.

Jason looked around for a second, making sure there were no leaks in the roof to threaten his electronics, primarily the computer that was the source of his income and the most important part of his life. Seeing no water in the room, he took a step forward and took a quick glance to his right, toward the door near the table leading to the small kitchen. He frowned, considering starting a pot of coffee, but he discarded the idea quickly. It was too early for and he had hopes of going back to sleep.

He stopped after a couple of steps and ran his right hand through his shoulder-length, slightly shaggy, dark blond hair as his slate gray eyes narrowed slightly, looking at the desk and the inert computer. He knew he should use the time to return to his writing, but the roaring of the storm and the tiredness he felt after so little sleep just didn’t fill him with motivation. Letting out another sigh, he turned toward the sofa, opting to sit down and turn on the TV. He moved slowly, tiredly across the room and reached the end of the sofa, starting around it with plans to flop down and lean back, when a sharp, rapid knocking began at the front door.

The sudden sound startled him and he spun toward the door, his eyes opening quickly then narrowing into a frown as he wondered who could be knocking at his door so late at night in the middle of the most massive storm he’d seen since his arrival.

After just a second, he considered the person knocking might be in distress, possibly lost in the woods. The cabin was, after all, more than fifteen miles from the nearest town, the tiny community of Corbett. With that thought in mind, he strode quickly to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open wide.

Standing there, on the wide front porch, out of the rain beneath the slanted overhang of the roof, was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was tall, approaching six feet, still a few inches shorter than his height of six-one. Her long hair, dripping wet, hung almost to her ankles. Her lean, somewhat narrow face was pale, though he wasn’t sure if that was her natural complexion or had been brought on by her exposure to the elements. Her dark green eyes were open wide and her lean body trembled as if from cold. The storm had brought cooler air, but it didn’t feel overly cold. That had him thinking her tremors were the result of fear. She wore dark clothing, a material with a texture he’d never seen before. It clung to her body and he quickly looked her over then focused on her face.

Please, she said, her voice a smooth, rich alto. I need your help.

CHAPTER TWO

Downtown

She strode into the tiny town of Corbett from the east, walking along the center of the rain-slick two-lane asphalt that would take a driver through the woods to a state highway more than twenty miles away, but she knew nothing about that. She wasn’t concerned about the road out of town. Her focus was on something much closer, something in the town she had to find, but she couldn’t do it on her own. She needed assistance and, since those she’d been sent with hadn’t arrived with her, presumably scattered somewhere in the area, she would seek what she needed from the small community and worry about the others later.

Caprice strode forward along the center of the road, her chocolate brown eyes wide and focused on the few lights of the town just ahead of her. Her almost diaphanous white clothing was soaked after quite a while walking through the rain and clung tightly to her shapely body, outlining her perfect curves. Her matching boots, made of a thick and flexible leather, repelled the water and were silent against the asphalt as the large drops of rain splashed against it and formed a few random puddles along the imperfect surface. She ignored them and stepped in them if they were in her path. Such things were unimportant and beyond her notice.

She did, however, notice the odd structures of the town’s buildings ahead of her. They were like nothing she’d ever seen, constructed of sharp angles and flat planes. The materials used to build them seemed to be uniformly brick and shaped stone. It all looked somehow mediocre and haphazard to her, like the builders had no sense of style or creativity. It just appeared bland and boring. Shaking her head, she continued forward, her golden blond hair plastered to her shapely skull and her full lips pursed in a way that suggested she had something of a nefarious purpose in mind.

The first building she reached, on her left, was a strange one, completely alien to her. A rusted metal awning covered a quartet of strange, oblong devices rising from a stone platform a number of feet from the building’s single door, a wooden door with paned glass set into it beside a wall that was mostly windows. As she approached it, she looked through the glass, protected from the rain and clear, though a little tainted with dark grime. The objects inside looked old and well-used, things she’d never seen before and it brought a slight frown to her face, a narrowing of the eyes, but it lasted only an instant before she looked away and continued forward.

The building sat on the corner of a narrow side street and she felt drawn in that direction. She could sense the presence of another being close by, one that would be beneficial to her cause in a way. There would be many of those, if she did things properly, and the thought of using her abilities in such a way stretched her lips into a sly smile.

She paused just before reaching the corner, she glanced to her right. Another side street, a darkened one a dozen feet or so closer to the edge of town, became visible to her, but she could see nothing to indicate any activity in that direction and she looked away, taking a moment to look farther along the wide street that ran perfectly straight through the heart of the small town. A number of buildings lined the street, though not as many as any major thoroughfare even in the smallest of towns in the land she called home, and she looked them over slowly, deciphering the symbols mounted across the tops of the buildings or painted on the doors.

She understood the words, her mind shifting to the local language with the assistance of the one that had sent them there, but she couldn’t quite understand their context. The closest one on her right, a small red brick building, bore the words Post Office just above the door. She frowned, not understanding the meaning, then looked at the others. The next one on the right, Town Hall, was something she almost understood, and the much larger one on the left, across the side street from the first building, was labeled as the General Store. That one made a little more sense to her, but she wasn’t entirely sure of its function. Farther along, she could see buildings labeled with words such as Clinic, Salon, and Pharmacy, but she had no idea what those meant, either. But her focus at the moment was not with those buildings. She first turned her head to the left, looking along the darkened side street, then turned her body as well. Her smile returned and she strode forward into the darkness.

She could sense the presence of another not too far away and slowed her pace to focus on it. As the rain continued to pound her and its multi-timbred roar filled her ears, she felt a sense of that person like beacon of light, drawing her to it as a moth to a flame. The analogy wasn’t quite appropriate, though. She was far from a moth and the presence she felt drawn to definitely was no flame. It was different, though, different from anything she’d felt before. It was beyond her understanding, but she didn’t try to figure it out. She just followed her instincts.

At the back of the building still on her left, she felt the presence grow a bit stronger. She almost had a read on it, a clearer definition of the person she would be encountering, but it felt strange and took her a second to realize the person was drunk. The realization stretched her smile a bit more and she blinked as rain rolled down her face almost like tears, knowing the process of taking control of this person would be even easier than she’d expected.

At the rear corner of the building, she turned to face it and the darkness behind it, a wide stretch of concrete, cracked and somewhat tilted, separating the building from a tall, wooden fence that sagged in places to give it an almost serpentine shape. She could barely see the fence or the building once away from the lights along the main street, but she could sense the person in the darkness that she sought. After a couple of seconds, a brilliant flash of lightning flooded the area briefly with bright, blue light, enough to illuminate her target.

It was a woman squatting on the slightly sloping concrete under a small metal awning near the far end of the building with her pants around her ankles. She looked up with the flash of lightning and gasped at the sight of Caprice standing a few yards away blocking the driveway, her posture suggesting she had some sinister purpose.

The woman, Erica Sawyer, quickly stood up, pulling up her faded jeans, now darkened with an accumulation of water, and fastened them as quickly as she could, almost numb fingers fumbling with the clasp then the somewhat damaged zipper.

Hey, she said, her voice rough and almost harsh, her words slurred slightly. What do you want?

I want you, the woman said and strode forward as darkness fell on the area again, but she had her target located and her focus was now perfect.

Erica stepped away from her and asked, Who the hell are you?

I am Caprice, she replied. And you will help me.

Erica shook her head slowly, I don’t know you, lady, and I don’t think I’ll be much help. I’m just a clerk at the pharmacy. I can’t do anything. Besides, I’m pretty drunk.

Caprice smiled in the darkness, showing her teeth as another flash of lightning swept the sky and showed the brilliance of her perfect teeth, You can do so much more than you’ve ever imagined.

Erica stood frozen at the corner of the building. A high, chain-link fence stood there and she was in no shape to try to climb it. She’d been drinking for hours, as she’d done every Friday after work for years when she knew the pharmacy would be closed the following day. She had little control over her limbs and stood there wobbling slightly, leaning a bit to her left. All she could do was stare into the darkness as Caprice strode toward her menacingly.

Caprice stopped when she stood directly in front of Erica, looking down at the silhouette of the slightly shorter woman. They both remained silent and still until the next bolt of lightning lit the area. When it did, Caprice quickly locked gazes with Erica and made instant contact. The process took only seconds and she smiled once she was sure she’d taken control of Erica’s mind.