Timber Layne

By Sylvia Gillespie

After his parents were arrested as the worst witches of the age, Timber runs the streets homeless until classes at Haven High resume. A new teacher starts and sees more in Timber than a vessel of evil and helps Timber protect his friend and learn how to control his powers and decide his own future, but when Timber's parents escape prison the whole school becomes at risk to their wrath.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Gillespie
• Release date: Jul 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005627751

Sylvia Gillespie

Sylvia Gillespie has a BFA in Creative Writing for Entertainment from Full Sail University.Sylvia has been a Veterinary Technician, a customer service agent supporting home computers and network equipment, a warehouse worker, a surgery assistant for a Veterinary technician school, a janitor, a newspaper delivery girl, and has even picked corn to support her writing.She enjoys reading, writing, running (especially mud races), and spending time with her family.

Book preview

Timber

Layne

By Sylvia Gillespie

Copyright 2022

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter 1

Like an owl in the night, T scaled peaked roofs and ran flat ones. He flipped or lept from one to another. T rolled the landing on the long falls. He sprinted away from others, efficiently going straight to the abandoned warehouse on the other side of the industrial district, allowing no obstacle to slow him down.

Matching windblown garbage in the night, T wore a ragged t-shirt, jeans, and a backpack, but they did not hinder him from leaping rooftops and sailing above the dirty, crowded streets of the vast city. His old ball cap had a raven on it and was pulled so low it blocked his eyes from view.

No one noticed him.

No one cared about him.

They were all far too busy with their troubles, so nothing stopped him from reaching his destination.

The warehouse was in a mess of abandoned industrial buildings placed almost haphazardly on cracked pavement. Rusting old semi-trucks and garbaged created eerie lumps in the darkness. The warehouse loading docks in the back made an excellent U shape, and the receiving area was an expansive covered patio where the wind had collected leaves and refuse.

Astra stood on this patio: a tall, narrow girl with puffy black ringlets, an innocent expression, and beautiful black skin. She had a trunk and bags around her while a giant boy named Circe accosted her. A permanent scowl shadowed Circe’s eyes, and his muscles bulged against his t-shirt.

Even though tears were on her cheeks, Astra fought back, pushing Circe away from her things. Don’t touch my stuff, she said. Her words were solid and defiant, even with her breath catching in fright.

Around them, Mason, Ranon, Brink, and Harly catcalled and blocked Astra’s escape. They seemed to be from the same angry family of Asian descent and were very energetic in their tormenting and enjoyed every second of it.

But perhaps it was little Main that was the cruelest of all. She was half the size of them, with stunning blue eyes and thin brown hair. She pulled Astra’s hair and pushed her right into Circe, who shoved her to the ground.

The gang hooted while Circe stepped back and lifted his hands wide as if he had conquered a brave enemy instead of picking on a frightened innocent. Main grabbed one of Astra’s bags and dumped the contents in a pile of leaves.

T dropped from the roof to stand between Astra and Circe. His hat was still low, covering his face, and his posture was more shy than aggressive, but the gang backed into a fan around Circe while Main ranged behind them like a stalking panther.

Astra’s face lightened considerably.

Since your parents got locked up in the Valley of Death, I kinda thought you’d be out this year, Circe said mockingly.

Circe’s crew laughed cruelly, and T dropped his head lower.

I’ve been homeless for months, T replied, voice soft but with an edge, Why wouldn’t I come back for free room and board? he added and dropped his head even further.

Unable to see T’s eyes, Circe took the opportunity to punch T’s exposed chin.

T didn’t lift his head as he punched Circe in the gut hard enough to knock him back to his gang, who caught him and held him on his feet.

Mason held Circe up and glared menacingly at T.

T lifted his head slightly and moved forward.

Circe and the gang scattered into the night. Main followed, walking backward a few paces to look longingly at T before turning to join the band.

What’s the word? T asked, watching the fleeing gang closely.

Astra leaped for T’s back, hugging him hard enough to make him take a few steps to stop from falling and dropping his hat in the dirt, revealing sunken cheeks and dark rings under his tired eyes. A patch of stringy red-blond hair fell in front of his eyes in clumps from the lack of washes. The rest of his head was shorn close. Despite his mere fifteen years of life, his face was worn and had patchy fuzz of a beard trying to come on.

Same old story. It’s like we never left, Astra replied, shook him hard, and then moved to face him while T recovered his hat from the dirt and shook it clean.

I’m glad you came back, Astra said and hugged him again, but for much shorter this time. Ah, man! she complained and pushed him away. You smell horrid! She covered her nose with her arm.

Been homeless, he said defensively, backing downwind and running his fingers through his hair to push it back as he put his hat back on.

Was it bad when they came for your parents? Astra asked, voice a worried hush.

No way it could be good, T growled. Seen our useless teacher yet? T asked to change the subject.

Nope. Word is he accepted a job out of the country, and we get a new guy. Astra leaned in. The word is that it’s your fault he left. She snickered into her hand.

Give me a less sexist teacher, and I won’t harass him, T promised in a grumble but then looked up quickly as a raven flew overhead, straight at first, and then circled back.

Oh, I missed Black, Astra said as she clasped her hands over her heart.

Black, the raven, landed near them to pick up some interesting trash.

Astra crouched to watch him. Even in the moonlight, the blue sheen to his wings was unmistakable. He was a massive, gorgeous bird. She put out her hand to him. He hopped closer but looked away without letting her touch him.

It true he was born when you were? Astra asked, leaning her head toward T but not taking her eyes off Black.

Every year, you ask, and every year I remind you he hatched as I was born, T said with an amused tilt to his lips

And you’ve been together ever since? Astra asked breathlessly.

All fifteen years, T confirmed.

Astra took a deep breath and shivered, Bonlave wishes she were as cool.

T looked around, eyes stopping on a crate half-buried in leaves. She’s a stray, just like me, he said warmly.

A wild, fuzzy head poked out of the crate, and then Bonlave merrowed and came out from the box. Main Coon cats wish they were as big and wild as this puffy girl with the fuzziest tail ever, complete with a few dried leaves. She pattered over, brushed by Black lovingly, and then went to T.

T crouched down and put his hand out. Bonlave happily stuck her head in his hand for chin scratches. Least you have a cool name, eh? T asked as he lowered his head.

Bonlave bumped her forehead with his.

I was ten when I named her, Astra said, then chuckled, It was not with the first word I ever spoke!

T lowered his head to the side, so Bonlave could get her huge white paws on his shoulder and rub against his face, cuddling almost as enthusiastically as Astra did.

T and Bonlave looked left almost at the same time.

Black cawed angrily and flew to the rooftop to observe the darkness.

T gently removed Bonlave from his shoulders and stood straight to look at Black.

Bonlave darted back into hiding, and Black dove off the roof and swooped off towards the sound of twin pipes growling in the night.

Astra moved to stand behind T but just to the side to still see.

Seconds passed, and the growl got louder.

Black flew back to his perch on the roof to fluff an unconcerned wing.

T relaxed, so Astra snuck a little further out from behind his protection.

Their new teacher, Simms, rode up, driving a burly black motorcycle. The bike was perhaps as old as Simms, who had deep age lines, a big white beard with matching long hair. He