The Atlantean Horse: Feathers of the Phoenix, #1

By Cheryl Carpinello

Ancient Mystery. Mystical Prophecy. Biblical Horsemen.

 

One Epic Task

 

• The Task:  Find and retrieve the Five Feathers of the fabled Phoenix to raise Atlantis so its people can return home.
• The Chosen:  Rosa & Jerome: Two cousins as close as sister and brother. Called by a visitor from a mythical city, they embark upon a perilous quest to retrieve the first Feather. Little do they realize that something more personal awaits them amid the danger. Rosa's kept her special gift hidden from all, kept it far in the Past, but now it will have to be revealed. Jerome's yet to discover his special gift.
• The Opponents: The Four Deadly Horsemen of the Apocalypse, vessels of evil and greed, will stop at nothing, not even murder, to possess the Feathers.

Join Rosa & Jerome as they risk all in their search for the First Feather!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheryl Carpinello
• Release date: Sep 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781804401309

Cheryl Carpinello

I am a retired high school English teacher. A devourer of books growing up, my profession introduced me to writings and authors from times long past. Through my studies and teaching, I fell in love with the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Now, I hope to inspire young readers and those young-at-heart to read more through my Quest Books set in these worlds.

Book preview

1

Stranger

It’s late April here next to the foothills on the edge of the Denver suburbs, and yesterday’s storm dropped two feet of snow. Overnight, it turned into a roaring blizzard plummeting temps below zero. The snow has moved on, but not the biting cold. The wind gusts not only create impassable drifts, they also keep the wind chill factor far below freezing. Even sheltered behind this window in my darkened living room, I find myself rubbing my arms for warmth.

Outside, newly leafed trees fight against the ice coating their branches, a fight lost for several. The crackle of breaking limbs echoes through the glass. I shudder from sadness at the thought of the new life coming to an end so soon after emerging. But that’s Colorado for you. Here the weather changes from one day to the next, sometimes from one hour to the next.

For the second day, schools are closed. My friends are inside playing video games or chatting online hoping that the afternoon will be calm enough for sledding and snowball fights. I’m usually one of those. Nothing like a wet spring snow and a roaring ride down the hill below my house. I might even talk my dad into sledding, if it’s not too dark once he and Mom get home from work. I’m not a fan of the snowball fights—though my cousin Jerome, who lives across the street, is—after having my nose broken by an errant snowball. On these days, I can still feel the impact, the pain, and the blood running down my face and throat. A warm liquid that is nothing like a cup of hot chocolate, soothing as it goes down. The memory almost gags me even now.

Usually I welcome Mother Nature’s little tantrums, but not this late. A wet chill hangs in the air, and in my body, refusing to let go. And today, in particular, I long for the stifling heat and that burning orb of the desert sun on my skin. Heat so thick I can see it rising in twisting streams from the blistering sand. And the sun literally baking my body, my hair, my skin. Never thought I’d wish for that again.

I don’t hear dead people anymore, and that makes me sad. You heard right, sad. After all I went through with Tut and Hesena in ancient Egypt...thirteen-thirty B.C. to be exact…I miss it. Well, let me rephrase that. I don’t miss the dead who talked—complained is more like it—before Tut came to me. I miss Nana’s gift that let me help Tut find Hesena, his love, and helped him restore his family’s good name.

Those others, the ones who wanted a second chance at life, are gone now. I’ve even gotten through almost two years of school without the other kids wondering if I’m ever going to be sane. I’m sure they’re as relieved as I am that those dead don’t interrupt my classes or my tests. A small part of me even misses the challenge of defeating General Horemheb, though not the almost dying part.

Glad I took my driving test before this storm came. Tomorrow, with any luck, I’ll get to drive the Jeep to school for the first time. I was one of the last in my junior class to get my license. Grandpa’s early birthday gift of car insurance cleared the last hurdle. Using all of my savings from my part-time fast food job, I purchased a used Jeep last month. I may even give Jerome a ride to school. At 15, he still has another year to go until he can get his license.

Movement at the end of the block catches my eye. I blink several times to be sure what I’m seeing is real. A man out walking in this weather. I watch as he stops and hesitates at each house he passes.

What in the world? It’s a miracle he isn't frozen where he stands, dressed as he is. Instead of a winter coat, long pants, and boots, he’s wearing a dark blue tunic over what looks to be…no way! But it is, lightweight pants in a powder blue. He has no hat, and the wind’s blowing through his dark brown hair without stopping. And sandals! Talk about not dressing the part. Nobody in their right mind would be out in this freezing weather dressed like that. At least no one I know.

Something’s going on. I run my fingers through my dark blond hair with its fading sun-bleached strands mixed with those dyed emerald green. Puzzled, I massage my scalp, determined to push out the tickling in my brain. I haven’t felt that for a long time.

The stranger slows as he reaches my driveway, pausing to look down at his hand. He looks at the curb and then at his hand again. He takes a step toward the house, stops, looks at my house, and then at his hand once more. As I watch, I see his chest expand as he draws in his breath and straightens his body, adding a couple of inches to his height. He resumes his approach to my front door, standing there almost as if he isn't sure what to do.

Instead of waiting for him to make a move, I open the door, cringing as the cold air penetrates my heather grey sweatshirt and blue jeans, chilling my body.

Hello there, I say through the screen. Can I help you?

He stares at me, opens his mouth, but closes his lips tight.

I wait.

He opens his mouth again to speak, but doesn't. Instead, he continues to stare at me, really stares hard. The heat from his black orbs threatens to melt my skin.

I take a step back. My skin cools. No. It's not possible. The tickling in my brain continues. No, I say.

Yes, Rosa. I am real, but not real.

I shake my head violently in an attempt to rid myself of the voice inside my mind. Too late. Who was it who said be careful what you wish for?

I'm still here, Rosa. We are waiting for your help.

No, I say out loud. I can't help you.

The one who gave you that golden ankh sent me to you.

I finger the ankh made of solid gold that hangs around my neck. My gift from the Window of Appearances. My gift from Ankhesenamun and Tut. The gold warms my hand as it always does when I touch it. Silently, I move my hand from the ankh to my hair fingering an emerald green tress, an acknowledgement of my ties with ancient Egypt.

She also said you have her eyes. And you do, the greenest emerald in all the worlds.

Taking a deep breath, I wonder—for the first time in two years—at the ties that bind me, ties I now think of as a gift rather than a curse.

She said you would help. She said you could help because you walk in two worlds.

What…what do you want? Idiot, I tell myself. You know better than to ask that question.

This time the man speaks out loud. The time is now.

I finger the ankh again, squeezing it, absorbing the warmth. Time for what?

It is time for Atlantis to rise again. It is time to gather the Feathers of the sacred Phoenix bird to set the island in motion.

I blink as images of a sunken island and fleeing people, animals, and birds fill my head. What…what do you want from me?

You are the one who must gather the Feathers on the Sun Days and bring them to the Atlantean Horse so that my people and my land can once more be united. It’s been too long, and our people wish to come home.

Me? My eyes widen in disbelief.

The man nods.

Putting my hands around my head, I try to block out the hundreds of voices from the visions running rampant through my brain. Voices crying out for help.

A shiver travels down his body shaking me out of the trance. His hands vigorously rubbing his arms prompt me into action.

Get inside. You have no business being out in this weather dressed as you are. I open the screen door and move to the side to let him pass. No, don’t start. Don’t say a word. She sent him here. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I know what I’m doing. I hope. I glance around the neighborhood to be sure no one else, especially Jerome, is around. Maybe I’m the only one who can see him, like Tut.

Thank you, Rosa, he says, continuing to briskly rub his arms. She didn't tell me that your world is wrapped in ice.

2

The Call

(3 days before the Summer Solstice)

Well, it’s been almost two months since that frigid day in April when he came to my door with his plea for help. I still marvel at the events that have happened since that day. About two weeks later, I received a letter in the mail that required me to actually sign in order to get it. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had that happen before. I mean, I had to go to the post office after school to sign. I couldn’t begin to guess what