Finn Rogers and the Heart of Elvelon: Finn Rogers Series, #1

By Bridget Plunkett

Fourteen-year-old Finn was born a healthy rez boy, but after the disappearance of his father years ago, he contracted a harmful virus that damaged his heart and left him in need of a transplant. His time is running out.

 

Prince Juno is from Elvelon, a mystical realm that hid its magical source, the Heart of Elvelon, on Earth among the Navete Indians centuries ago to shield it from the evils of Elvelon, deep in the region of Polithia. Juno has come to the Earthly Realm to warn the Navete Indians that Tempest, an evil time enchantress, and Nox, her mentor, is after the Heart.

 

Finn and Juno's worlds collide when Tempest comes to Earth to steal the Heart and use its powers to search for her missing brother. When her plans go awry, she resorts to kidnapping, stealing, and whatever it takes to find him. Finn and Juno must travel to Elvelon to save their friends and find the Heart before it falls into the hands of Nox, ruler of Polithia. Can both hearts be restored before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bridget Plunkett
• Release date: Nov 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9798215062135

Bridget Plunkett

Bridget Plunkett is a Louisiana native, mother, registered nurse, and writer.  She loves travel, nursing, gardening, and spending time with her three children.  Her motto is work hard, but play harder.  Her travels took her to Arizona and New Mexico, where she fell in love with the culture and people.  What started out as a vivid dream after her visit became her debut novel, Finn Rogers and the Heart of Elvelon.  

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS AN EXCITING day in Red Rock.  The day was Saturday, which meant no school, and the sun was shining in the western sky of that reservation town.  It was the perfect autumn day for a bike ride to Mr. Praesidio’s store.  Finn smiled as he watched his friends race towards their bicycles.  He was happy to see them after spending his birthday in the hospital last week.

I’ll race you boys to Mr. Prae’s store, Bronwyn said as she mounted her trike.  She stood up on the pedals, spun the wheels, flung dirt towards the boys, then spun back around. She came to an abrupt halt right at their feet.  Her curly brown hair danced on her tan shoulders as a cool breeze blew.

You’re on.  Everyone knows I’m the fastest set of wheels in Red Rock. Benji kicked his kickstand up and threw his leg over his brand new bike.

I don’t know my friend.  Have you seen her in the past month?  She’s pretty good with those three wheels.  Patrick gave Finn a wide-eyed look, as though something big was about to go down.

I know firsthand she can take you.  In fact, I’ll bet you two Tootsie Pops she beats you there, even with me on the back of her trike.  Finn reached his hand out to give a shake as he tried to maintain his poker face.  He knew something his friends didn’t.  Benji rode his bike over to Bronwyn’s trike and sealed the bet.

You’ve got a deal.  I like the red ones the best, Benji laughed on his way to the starting line they had painted onto the road last summer.  It had faded to a pale yellow, but it still did the trick.

Finn offered Bronwyn a wink. He knew she had mad pedaling skills since she had been carrying him around all summer.  Finn had a bike of his own his grandmother had bought him for Christmas last year. He rode it until the spring when he became too weak to pedal.

He turned 14 last week, a birthday he thought he would never live to see - the last two years have been rough on him. He has been a sickly boy since he was a toddler, but the doctors could never diagnose what was wrong with him.  Their only thought was maybe a virus.  Just after his tenth birthday, things got worse.

Earlier in the year, Finn found it hard to walk without getting short of breath. He had always been small for his age, but he became skin and bone as the weeks passed.  He layered his clothes so his mom wouldn’t see how poor he had gotten.  He pretended to be fine and acted as normal as he could when his mom was around.  She was a single mom and worked hard, so he didn’t want to worry her.  He made sure not to act out of breath, but soon he became too weak to pretend.

Even his dog, Dakota, knew something was wrong.  One time Finn was sick for an entire month, and his brown-eyed furry friend never left his side.  Next to Bronwyn, he was Finn’s best friend in the entire world.  They had been buddies since Finn was three-years-old, when the red dog showed up on their doorstep.

His mom, Amelia Rogers, was a server at The Watering Hole, the local downtown diner, but has been studying to be a nurse the past couple of years. After many tests and hospital stays, the doctors realized Finn’s heart was not working as it should.  He remembered the sound of her crying as the doctors started mumbling words like ‘congestive heart failure’ and ‘transplant’.  He was a very perceptive boy, and his perception told him it wasn’t a good thing.

Finn had been in and out of the hospital, each stay a little longer than the last.  He stroked the bandages he still wore on his hands where they put the medicine for his heart, and he felt the sting in his nose from the oxygen tubes every time he took a breath.  He thought about how much the needles hurt last time—-every time.

Finn sat in the back of Bronwyn’s trike and watched her prepare for the race. She was such a good friend. She asked her mom and dad to buy her a trike that had a seat between the back two wheels instead of a basket.  Finn could ride with her around the block and not feel left out.  With a little help from her dad and the internet, she made it happen.  That black leather seat had seen a lot of wear and tear in the last year as Finn became weaker and weaker.

Stay here, boy, Finn said to Dakota.  The obedient dog walked up the steps to the front porch and plopped down on his fluffy pillow, content to stay right where he landed.

Benji and Bronwyn joined at the starting line while Patrick watched from the sidelines to make sure they were both even.

On your marks, get set, go! said Patrick. He jumped on his own bike and pulled in behind them as they sped away.

The gang pedaled down the street and raced their way past the storefronts down the main street of town.  When they passed Town Hall, Finn couldn’t help but stare at the mysterious grand pine tree on the lawn.  The story goes that the tree just appeared one day out of nowhere, ten years ago, to remind the Navete Indians their creator was always watching them.  The genuine mystery to Finn was that the tree appeared the night his father disappeared.

It was the tallest pine tree in Red Rock. Its pine needles were always green and its branches were unbreakable.  Surrounded by desert on every side, it was an oddity for a tree as large and beautiful as the pine to be there, anyway. Very odd indeed.

The Navete Indians called it the Ah’bah Vee’tah, the Tree of Life.  Arborists and tree lovers from all over the world had visited the small town to see the grand pine.  The Tree of Life fascinated Finn.  Once, when he was five-years-old, he thought he saw it waving at him and Dakota.

Benji was face-to-face with Finn. He pedaled so hard his bike shook from side to side.  His face was red and his bright blonde hair stuck straight up. Sweat ran down his freckled face.  Benji wore a look of defeat as he struggled to the storefront, short of breath. This pleased Finn because he loved Tootsie Pops.

And we’re here! Told you I could beat you guys with Finn on the back of my trike. Bronwyn jumped down from her ride and placed her hands on her hips.  She didn’t even break a sweat.

Yeah, but you practiced all summer, so not fair! Benji gasped for air.

Not fair? Really? she squealed. I was carrying another human being on my trike.  You guys are just wimps!  And you owe Finn two Tootsie Pops. She turned and gave Finn a high five.

Patrick came dragging up behind everyone on his old rusty bike.  His chain had fallen off about half-way there, so he had to walk the rest of the way.

Patrick Littlefoot was one of Finn’s newest friends.  They met in the hospital over two years ago when they shared a room.  Patrick was a couple of years older than Finn and had been sick longer.  He had something called Cystic Fibrosis, which he described as having snot in his lungs all the time.

Glad you could make it, slowpoke! Finn laughed.

Easy for you to say, Mr. Rogers. You get to ride on the back of the trike taxi. How about next time you try out Old Rusty, said Patrick as he huffed and puffed. He tugged the loose chain that dangled from its sprocket.  He gave up and leaned the bike against the side of the store - his kickstand was missing.  It was his brother’s bike before his, so it had seen better days.

Last one inside is a fliptard! said Benji as the four raced into the store.  Patrick’s dad, Mr. LittleFoot, was standing at the counter speaking to Mr. Praesidio.

Hey, guys! I was just leaving.  You all having fun?

Yes, sir! they all said.

Hi, Shi-saa! Bye, Shi-saa! Patrick said in broken Navete as he ran to the back with the rest of the gang.  His family was from the Mud Clan, about ten miles out of town, and they still spoke their native dialect.

Bye, Mr. LittleFoot.  Have a good day, Finn said as Patrick’s dad walked out.

Finn stopped at the front counter while the rest of his friends hurried to the candy aisle.  Mr.  Praesidio stood behind the counter like always as he studied the newspaper and drank a steaming cup of Navete tea.  Finn had called him Mr. Prae since he was little because it was hard for a kid to say Praesidio.

The tiny store was down the road from Finn’s house. As a toddler, Finn remembered visiting Mr. Prae’s store with his dad.  It was some of the only memories he had of him. The store hadn’t changed.  It always smelled of stale peanuts, pine trees, and burning sage.  Mr. Prae kept these green cardboard trees hanging all over the store, which Finn thought was weird.

He had a few grocery aisles in the front and a mystery room in the back with a single entrance covered by a colorful drape.  Finn remembered almost sneaking a peek once when he was six, but Mr. Prae saw him and redirected him back to the front of the store.  That room is for grown-ups only, he would always say.

There was a Navete Indian aisle in the storefront where the local natives would sell their handmade pottery, colorful baskets, dream catchers, and hand-crafted jewelry.  It always smelled of sage from Mr. Prae’s smudging, chamomile from the Navete tea, and tobacco—all the smells Finn loved to take in when he visited. 

When Finn was seven, he and his grandmother bought his mom a huge purple dream catcher with bright white feathers for her birthday.  It hung on the wall above her bed, facing the eastern window of the room.  She told Finn it was her most valued treasure.

Finn’s Mimi would always stand up front and talk to Mr. Prae while Finn shopped the candy aisle.  Her voice changed to a high-pitched squeal, and she laughed excessively when she talked to him.  Finn never understood what that was all about.

Hey, Mr. Prae.  How are you today? Finn asked.

Mr. Prae turned down the corner of his newspaper and looked at Finn over his reading glasses.  He was an elderly Navete man with a head full of wild gray hair, a thin gray mustache, and dark brown eyes.  He was strong for his age—maybe seventy years old—and stood only an inch below six feet. 

Tah’ Hah-tay, Akeela! And a Happy Late Birthaday. Mr. Prae laid his paper down and reached under the counter.  He had called Finn ‘Akeela’ his entire life.  It meant eagle in the Navete language. He pulled out a small brown paper sack and passed it to Finn. 

What’s this? Finn asked.

Just a little birthaday gift from me.  I was not seeing you on your birthaday, so I saved it for when I could catch you, Mr. Prae said.

Yes sir.  I was in the hospital for my birthday.  I’ve been out a few days.  This is the first time my mom has let me go out since I’ve been home.  You know how she worries.

Ah, yes.  But dat’s what mothers are for, my boy, said Mr. Prae.  He stared at the paper bag and encouraged Finn to open it.

Finn ripped open the stapled bag and pulled out a brown leather pouch.  Inside he found a handmade whistle made of wood and wrapped in tiny strands of blue, yellow, and red leather from one end to the other. There were five different colored feathers tied at the end.  It had a place to blow on one end and four tiny holes in the top equally spaced down the whistle’s shaft.  There was a bright band of leather wrapped in a long chain big enough for Finn to slip around his neck, and it was small enough to tuck under his shirt.

Wow. Finn’s eyes beamed with pride as he slipped the whistle over his head.  What is it?

Dat is a Navete Indian war whistle, Akeela.  Legend has it, when you blow dis whistle in a moment of battle and you are worthy of da heart, de ancient warrior Lupalas of da Navete will come to your aid.  He is said to have da body of da magnificent wolf, wings of da soaring akeela, and strength of da fierce lion.  He is de Protector of da Navete warriors.

Finn lifted the whistle up to his lips and placed his fingers over the holes on top. When he blew, he moved his fingers up and down over the holes. Shrill, sharp notes burst from the sound chamber and filled the air with their screech.  He raised his shoulders and squinted his eyes as the sound became unbearable even for him.

Sorry, Mr. Prae.  Guess I need practice. Finn laid the whistle at his chest and let it hang.

You’ll get de hang of it, Akeela.  Your fahder would be so proud.

Mr. Prae had been friends with his dad long before Finn was born.  His dad was a well-respected deputy for the Sheriff’s Department.  The day his father disappeared, Finn had been with him and his partner, Kodi, running errands around town.  He was only four and remembered nothing that happened, but was told he was walking around town alone. Mr. Prae found him holding something in his hands, but he can’t remember what.  Dakota showed up on their doorstep two days later and has been Finn’s dog ever since.

Although his father and partner came up missing that night, the enormous pine tree that appeared in the middle of town overshadowed his disappearance.  They searched for days, then weeks, then months for Mr. Rodgers and his partner, Kodi Redpaw.  The signs still hung in the Post Office, the Town Square, and anywhere Amelia could place one.  She had never given up hope on finding her husband. 

Mr. Praesidio has been like an uncle to him ever since his dad’s disappearance. He always checked on him when he was in the hospital, helped Amelia around the house, and whatever else he could do for Finn.

Startled by the jingle of the doorbells hanging on the store entrance, Finn turned to see a young man enter the store and walk to the counter.  He could tell the stranger was there with a purpose, the way he walked straight to Mr. Prae without browsing the aisles.  He was a dark, muscular young man, maybe late teens, with long, dark hair and light brown eyes.

Juno, good to see you, said Mr. Prae with a puzzled look.  What brings you to Red Rock?

Nothing good, I’m afraid.  I need your help.  Tse-Hah-Yeh, ya know. The young man looked around the store and checked for any bystanders within hearing distance. When his eyes found Finn next to him he nodded.  Hello, young man. Can I borrow him for a minute?

Sure, he said to the young man.  I’m Finn.  Nice to meet you.

Nice to make your acquaintance, Finn.  I’m Juno. He turned his focus back to Mr. Praesidio.  I don’t have a lot of time.  I need to be home by morning.

Let’s talk.  Dis way.  Akeela, I’ll be back in a minute.  Help yourself to some pinons, Mr. Prae said, pointing to the bag of freshly picked pinons laying on the counter.  He then led the young man to the back room.  The mystery room.  It intrigued Finn.  He watched them walk to the back of the store until the two disappeared behind the drape.  He tried to hear their conversation but had little success.

Finn gave up and joined his friends in the candy section and picked out all of his favorites—gummy worms, caramel squares, and chocolate-covered raisins.  With both hands full of candy, he made his way to the others to check out their bounty.

Bronwyn was being moderate and only picked a pack of circus peanuts.  Patrick had handfuls of Tootsie