Portal of Chaos: Island of Fog, #13

By Keith Robinson

A group of thirteen-year-old shapeshifters are sent on a rescue mission to the thirteenth floor of a highrise building where something terrible lurks.

 

The people of Old Earth are busy rebuilding their towns and cities, putting industries back to work, and forging new communities, all the while getting to know their newfound neighbors—a parallel world full of mythical creatures, magic, and wonder!

 

But magic isn't always good. Sometimes it's downright evil.

 

In a newly restored city, something disturbing has happened in an office building. People have vanished without trace, and rescue teams can't get past a pack of deadly hellhounds. The situation is well beyond Old Earth's capabilities, and the authorities request the help of Miss Simone and her team of shapeshifters.

 

With Friday 13th coming up in a few days, is it too much to hope that luck will be on their side?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unearthly Tales
• Release date: Nov 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9798223534075

Keith Robinson

Keith Robinson is a writer of fantasy fiction for middle-grade readers and young adults. His ISLAND OF FOG series has received extremely positive feedback from readers of all ages including Piers Anthony (best-selling author of the Magic of Xanth series) and Writer's Digest. Visit UnearthlyTales.com for more.

Book preview

Meet the Shapeshifters

In this story there are nine thirteen-year-old children, each able to transform into a creature of myth and legend . . .

Hal Franklin (dragon) – As one of the most powerful creatures in the land, Hal is often looked upon as the leader of the group. Though reluctant in that role, he never backs down from his responsibilities.

Robbie Strickland (ogre) – At three times his normal height, Robbie is a mass of shaggy hair and muscle. He’s always ready to leap into battle and smash things.

Abigail Porter (faerie) – Sprouting insect-like wings and buzzing around, Abigail can shrink to six inches tall, the same size as real faeries, but usually stays at normal human size.

Dewey Morgan (centaur) – Half human, half equine, Dewey is impressive and wise in his centaur form, though often nervous. This shy boy doesn’t say much, but his friends tend to listen when he speaks up.

Lauren Hunter (harpy) – With enormous owl-like wings, yellow eyes, and powerful talons for feet, this beautiful white-feathered human-creature soars and swoops like a bird of prey.

Fenton Bridges (rare lizard monster) – Able to spit a stream of water that quickly solidifies into glue, Fenton is black and reptilian with an impossibly long tail. Some think of him as an ouroboros, but no official name has ever stuck.

Darcy O’Tanner (dryad) – As a wood nymph, she has the ability to blend into the background like a chameleon, allowing her to sneak around unseen. When in view, she looks a little like carved wood, with skin the texture of bark.

Emily Stanton (naga) – Part human, part serpent, the naga come in three different forms, only two of which Emily has explored. She doesn’t like the limbless water variety so much. She favors the forest-dwellers, thus retaining her upper body and arms.

Thomas Patten (manticore) – The redheaded boy spent six years in the form of a vicious, red-furred, blue-eyed lion creature with a scorpion’s tail. Even today, he’s always the first to lose his temper and jump into a fight.

Miss Simone is the resident mermaid shapeshifter and respected scientist. She’s in charge of the Shapeshifter Program and everything else at the science laboratory. Other shifters of her generation have either moved away or are currently on missions.

Hal is dreading the day Madame Frost comes to collect his fire gland. But there’s no time to think about it, because the young shapeshifters have been called upon to deal with a tense situation in Old Earth . . .

Chapter 1

A Mission Looms

Hal knocked on the door and stood back to wait.

When Abigail came to his house, she often just gave a light tap and wandered in, loudly announcing her presence before seating herself at the kitchen table or heading through to the living room and throwing herself into an armchair. He couldn’t do that at hers. Well, he could, according to Abigail and her mom. Our home is yours, they always told him. You’re always welcome. Just come on in.

But he couldn’t. It felt rude and a little weird. And it would be even weirder now that her dad lived here.

Abigail’s dad, he mused for the millionth time. Abigail’s DAD.

Was he really here to stay? It seemed the man had defied the natural order of time, and Hal worried that the universe might realize and snatch him back at any moment. All these years, everyone had thought him dead. Abigail hadn’t even met him until a few days ago; she hadn’t been born when the scrags of Old Earth attacked and supposedly killed him.

Mr. Porter himself answered the door. He stood there alive and well, happy to be home with his thirteen-year-old daughter. It had to be equally strange for him. He’d left his pregnant wife to go on a small mission, been set upon by a gang . . . and then woken in the future, his unborn child suddenly a teenager.

It still hasn’t sunk in, has it? the man said, tilting his head to one side and offering a sympathetic grin. I can’t believe it either, but I reckon it’s stranger for you and your friends. He shook his head. "For me, it’s like I was knocked senseless, maybe like slipping into a coma and waking up thirteen years later. But for you guys—well, I’ve been dead all this time."

Hal tried to tear his gaze away. Sorry.

Sorry for what? Mr. Porter stood aside and waved him in. Get in here, boy. Abi’s just finishing a sandwich. Kind of early for lunch, but you kids need to be in fighting shape for your mission. You eat yet?

Yeah.

Well, stay and have some cookies or something.

Miss Simone wants to meet us at midday, Hal reminded him.

As Hal headed inside, Mr. Porter closed the door behind him and patted his shoulder. Are you wearing a watch? Doesn’t look like it. How do you even know what time it is?

Dad keeps clocks wound at home, Hal said. Always has, always will.

That seemed to surprise Mr. Porter. Huh. I don’t think I’ve seen a single clock in this whole town. I assumed people in this world just kinda let the day slide by.

No, sir, Hal said as he walked into the kitchen to find Abigail and her mom sitting at the table. We have a clock at school.

And there’s one hanging in front of the town hall, Mrs. Porter commented.

She and Abigail had the same eyes and dark-brown hair, though Mrs. Porter generally looked a lot more flustered than her carefree daughter. Now Hal recognized that the bright, cheerful temperament came from her dad. Both had a constant, mischievous twinkle in their eyes as if they knew something others didn’t.

Is there? Hal said. I never noticed.

Abigail didn’t give him a chance to sit. She got up and steered him back toward the door. Well, speaking of clocks, we’d better get going, she called over her shoulder to her mom.

Abigail hugged her dad. He lightly touched her nose and whispered something, and she smiled.

The last thing Hal heard when he stepped outside with Abigail was Mrs. Porter calling after them. I see how it is. Only your dad gets hugs these days. I’m chopped liver, apparently . . .

Hal and Abigail walked in silence for half a minute. He could sense she was bursting to talk, and her grip on his hand was so tight that her fingernails dug into his skin.

As they walked along the forest path toward the village, he broke the silence. So—

Her words tumbled out in a rush. Oh, Hal, he’s really here! My dad is home! He’s exactly as I imagined and more—funny and caring, a bit of a joker, kind of like me I suppose, always pestering Mom and making her mad, but she laughs too, so I know she enjoys it, and he’s so nice to her and keeps holding her hand and telling her he’s glad to be home and sorry for being gone so long, and she bats at him and tells him he’s a fool and she’ll never forgive him, but obviously she will, probably has already—and oh, Hal, he likes the same things I do—cheese and sunrises and fences and the sound of birds being rude to each other, and did you know he’s a genius at solving riddles?—I didn’t know that, but I guess that’s why I love riddles and puzzles myself. Mom says we’re two peas in a pod half the time, which is exactly how I always hoped he’d be if he was still alive—

She broke off and gasped for breath.

Hal smiled and waited. She’d stopped dead on the trail the moment she’d started spilling, and nothing could have interrupted the torrent of words coming out of her mouth. Not that he wanted to stop her. This was the first time he’d seen Abigail since the events at the Broken Cliffs four days ago.

Four days ago! He never normally went that long without her. News of Mr. Porter’s return had spread pretty fast around the town, and all the shapeshifters’ parents had rushed to greet their long-lost friend—in utter disbelief, judging by their looks of shock. When Hal’s mom and dad had shuffled home hours later, they’d sat for ages in the living room, staring at the wall and floor, occasionally saying He’s really alive! and But how? and shaking their heads over and over.

Four days. The Porters had been spotted a few times around the town as well as in the woods and open fields, but Hal’s instructions were to leave them be. Give them space, his mom had urged. The poor man has a lot to catch up on. And as for Abigail and her mom . . . they have to undo years of thinking he was gone forever.

A new mission had cropped up that morning, and Hal had leapt for joy, knowing Miss Simone would expect all nine shapeshifters to show up for the briefing at midday. Surely four days was plenty of time to get over a long-dead dad returning from the grave! It turned out Hal was right. Abigail couldn’t wait to tell him everything.

She prattled on some more as they walked, and he listened with a smile on his face, just glad to be with her again.

When she took another breath, he cut in with a question. "You like fences?"

What?

You said you like cheeses and sunrises and fences.

She glanced sideways at him. Oh, well, yes . . . Shut up.

He laughed. You must show me some of these fences you’re talking about.

Nothing would ruin her mood. She sighed and closed her eyes a moment as she walked, allowing Hal to guide her on the woodland path. The sounds of the town filtered through the trees ahead.

So, Hal said finally, what do you know about this mission?

Not a thing, she said happily.

Do you care?

Nope.

What if it’s dangerous?

Bring it on.

He chuckled. You look sappy. Open your eyes at least, before you trip on something and cut your knee.

Dad’ll make it better, she mumbled.

This time, Hal shot her a worried frown. I hope you’re not going to go around being goofy. If we’re being attacked by deadly monsters, I expect you to help us escape, not stand there smiling and telling us your dad will make everything better.

She elbowed him, making him wince. All right, tell me what you know.

Hal sighed with relief. It seemed she’d dragged herself into the present and regained some of her familiar determination.

All I know is that we’re going to Old Earth to investigate a weird portal.

Abigail said nothing for a moment. It wasn’t until they emerged into the relatively quiet streets of the village that she spoke again. Where is everyone?

Hal shrugged. Market’s closed. It’s Monday.

Is it? I thought it was still Sunday. I lost track of time. Wait—so we’re skipping school again!

Because of the mission, yes.

Canceling Monday class is becoming a habit, Abigail mused. "A weird portal, you say? Aren’t they all weird?"

This one is different.

Different how?

Miss Simone didn’t say.

And we’re going to Old Earth to investigate it? So we have to go through a portal to get there first, and then . . . what? Go look at another?

I guess. She didn’t tell us the details.

Abigail giggled. I’d be surprised if she had. Miss Simone likes to keep us all wondering, doesn’t she?

Parting clouds allowed sunshine to glint off the roof of the town hall, which rose above the surrounding thatched cottages near the center of Carter. Hal squinted and, sure enough, spotted the top half of a clock. It was already slightly past midday. He picked up his pace.

Passersby nodded at Hal and Abigail, who smiled and waved back. A group of goblins sat around a small table outside a blacksmith’s shop; they were bent over a roughly painted wooden board, studying the positions of several carved pieces. Four players in deep concentration, with two spectators leaning over their shoulders.

A puffing, panting, wiry old man pushed a wheelbarrow full of glowing geo-rocks. Goats bleated from within an enclosure in someone’s backyard. Two young children tore around the corner, giggling uncontrollably as they sped past. Overhead came the distant screech of a roc high in the sky.

Everything was as normal as could be. Except . . . once in a while, anxiety gnawed at Hal’s chest and caused his stomach to flip-flop. Four days since the events at the Broken Cliffs. Four days since a nasty witch had forced him to make a vow he couldn’t possibly keep.

He only had three days left. His deadline was Thursday.

Miss Simone still hasn’t done anything about Madame Frost, he said at last.

Abigail drew in a sharp breath and spun to face him. Oh! Hal, I’d forgotten all about— She gripped his arm and put on her fiercest glare. Don’t you worry. She won’t dare come near you.

She will, he said grimly. "But it’s not just me I’m worried about. It’s you. You and the others. If I don’t do as I promised her, she could put a curse on all of you. She could peer through your window late one night and mutter something under her breath, and then you’d get ill and die."

Miss Simone will drive her off, Abigail said firmly. She’ll work something out. There’s no way you’re giving up your fire gland.

"Except I went and promised she could have it," Hal muttered.

Abigail shook her head. My dad was dying, and the only way she would save him was to make an impossible deal with you. That’s not a real promise. That’s blackmail, or extortion, or something. Just forget it.

But Hal couldn’t forget it, not when the witch had the power to cast silent spells in the dead of night. His friends were in danger, and despite demands by angry parents, Miss Simone had neglected to approach her. It wasn’t really surprising, though. What could she say to change a witch’s mind?

So Hal was fairly certain Madame Frost would show up on the seventh day when his so-called debt was due.

Over on the far side of the village, a crowd had gathered around a tall, squarish, white-colored vehicle from Old Earth. Hal and Abigail threaded their way through the throng of men and women and spotted their friends crowded along the side of the van near an open side door. Miss Simone stood there too, talking to a man who had to be the driver.

About time you showed, Thomas said, scowling at Hal.

Hal shrugged, unwilling to be pulled into an argument with the redheaded boy within seconds of seeing him.

Fenton hulked nearby, looking bored. Close by his side, Darcy swept her blond hair out of her face and offered a smile of greeting. And next to her, Emily and Lauren continued their conversation without pause.

Dewey and Robbie broke off from their own discussion and waved. Hey, Robbie said. We were about to leave without you.

No we weren’t, Thomas complained. "Can’t go without the special dragon boy." He shot Hal a scowl.

Again, Hal resisted the urge to fire back at him. Sorry. He gestured at the van. "Are we going in this?"

They’d all seen Old Earth vehicles before. Robbie had actually driven a truck—badly—during their run-in with scrags on the deserted roads of a city on the coast. That particular vehicle had been much bigger and more boxlike, meant for carrying goods. This one, however, was sleek and shiny, with blackened windows, sparkling chrome wheels, and a gleaming radiator grill. A side door stood open, revealing plush seats inside.

Better than Blacknail’s buggy, Abigail muttered.

Literally anything’s better than that giant steam machine, Hal answered. Glad it sank.

The van looked utterly out of place in the village of Carter. The dusty streets were meant for people, carts, and occasional horses—not shiny motor vehicles. The engine was running, and a faint plume of exhaust fumes drifted into the air. It probably wasn’t anything special to Old Earthers, but here it was an object of great interest. Many of the folks crowding the street had never seen one up close.

Hal, Miss Simone said, turning away from the driver. Abigail, she added in a softer tone. Her gaze lingered. How’s your dad?

Her question caused everyone to fall silent and turn toward Abigail.

She smiled. Great. He’s— She glanced at Hal, then broke off and shrugged. Well, I doubt anyone wants to hear me going on about him. But yes, he’s great. Glad to have him home.

Miss Simone stared at her with piercing blue eyes. Her green, silky cloak moved gently in the breeze. Good, good, she murmured. Her attention returned to Hal. And as for you . . .

He quailed, feeling everyone’s stare on him. Me?

Don’t fret about Madame Frost. You won’t be giving up your fire gland to her no matter what kind of ‘fair deal’ she concocted with you. It’s not going to happen. Board the van and get on your way, and by the time you get back, I’m certain Madame Frost will have forgotten all about you.

I doubt it, Hal muttered. He patted his chest. A dragon shapeshifter isn’t much good if he can’t breathe fire.

Without further ado, the nine friends moved toward the van. Fenton and Thomas pushed their way on first and claimed the entire back seat even though there was room for a third person. Hal and Abigail sat together behind the driver. Robbie and Lauren paired up, as did Emily and Darcy, and then, suddenly, the passenger section of the van was full—except for that spacious back seat. Dewey had to fight for his spot.

You’re not coming, Miss Simone? Emily called to the blond woman as she leaned inside. There’s a spare seat next to the driver.

No, I have things to do. Besides, what use would a mermaid be in the middle of a city in Old Earth?

Everyone at once badgered her with questions, and she raised a hand for silence.

When you arrive, a police officer will meet you and explain everything far better than I can. Pay attention, then see what you can do. Oh, and children, she added with a warning frown, "please refrain from showing off. You’re shapeshifters, and you’re emissaries of not just Carter but of New Earth. So act responsibly. Relations between our two worlds are still a little . . . shall we say delicate? She eyed Thomas in particular. Let’s not run around frightening anyone as a prank, all right?"

Everyone twisted around just in time to see Thomas’s eyebrows shoot up. Me?

A police officer, Darcy said. Ooh, I’ve never met one before! Does he have a uniform and gun and a shiny badge?

Well, he’s a detective and looks rather ordinary. But he’s in charge. Oh, and there might be a TV news team. Just ignore them. Remember—no showing off.

Hal couldn’t imagine ‘showing off’ to anyone. Well, maybe he could. Being a dragon was cool. But he also knew that some people in Carter were wary of him. The anxious looks he received even when in human form saddened him. Did anyone honestly think he would hurt them?

Then again, no matter how human he felt when in his dragon body, from the outside he was a hulking mass of muscle, shiny green scales, huge leathery wings, a hazardous tail with a club on the end, as well as terrifying teeth and claws and deadly fire-breath. If he wasn’t careful, he could wipe out a crowd just by coughing.

Miss Simone waved goodbye, and the shapeshifters buckled themselves in as the driver put the van in gear and set off along the dusty road. Hal marveled at how smooth and quiet the ride was.

Yeah, this beats Blacknail’s noisy contraption, he said over his shoulder.

I heard he’s building another one, Dewey offered. There’s a lot of clanging and banging from one of the goblin barns, and someone said they saw steam puffing out from under the doors.

Hal groaned inwardly. Well, if we ever go on a long journey with Blacknail to the Labyrinth of Fire again, it won’t be at a snail’s pace in one of his metal monster machines. I’ll fly.

"You didn’t know how to fly back then," Emily said softly.

Hal glanced at her, and she shot him a smile.

It’s okay, she said. I didn’t either. I’d only just figured out I could be two different kinds of naga. She drew in a breath. "But now—"

Oh, here we go again, Thomas cut in. Yes, yes, we know, you can be a third kind of naga now, and yes, we know, you can fly. I swear, if you tell us one more time . . .

Despite his harsh tone, Emily simply giggled. Did I mention I can fly now?

Abigail nudged Hal, smiled, and rolled her eyes.

Still, Emily’s newfound ability was pretty spectacular news, and it would have been the talk of the town if not overshadowed by the return of Abigail’s long-dead father.

The van cruised out of Carter and along a dirt road on the outskirts of the forest. Among those trees lived manticores, pixies and faeries, will-o’-wisps, naga, dryads, and a myriad of other magical creatures both dangerous and wonderful.

Eventually, the driver cut in through the trees, taking a narrow woodland lane to a large clearing guarded by uniformed Portal Patrol officers plus a few centaurs and goblins. Small structures lined the perimeter, and several campfires burned. The outpost was one of a handful in the area, an official crossing point between the two worlds.

In the center of it all, a pulsing black cloud hung suspended just above the grass. It was big, though probably not wide enough for Hal to fly through with outstretched wings. Its inky tendrils continually curled outward and snatched back in again. The anomaly was a sphere of eerie nothingness, silent and ominous.

A portal to Old Earth.

Chapter 2

The City

The driver slowed and guided the van onto a gentle ramp that rose high enough to plunge into the heart of the pulsing cloud.

Here we go, the driver called, sounding nervous, though he’d probably done it numerous times before. Fingers crossed. You just never know what you’re going to crash into . . .

Hal absently crossed his fingers as instructed. Why not? The driver was right. There could be a car coming the other way!

Of course that wasn’t true. Goblins rushed about ahead of them, checking the entryway was clear. With a thumbs-up, one of the stout fellows waved the van through.

A moment of absolute darkness.

That was all they experienced. Then daylight flooded the van, and the driver breathed a sigh of relief as he steered off the ramp on the other side and weaved carefully past a small crowd of people, some of them in uniform. Like the goblins, they waved the van onward.

The scenery had altered. The dense forest full of magical creatures was now a drab wooded patch. But soon the trees gave way to open fields where dozens of cows grazed. In the near distance, a dazzling ocean glittered in the sunlight. It seemed incredible to be on the coast when they’d just left expansive forestland behind, but the geographies of the twin worlds, though similar, had never quite matched.

Ahead, farther along the coast, a city loomed.

Welcome to Stockport Bay, the driver said.

The name rang a bell, though Hal had never been certain that was the name of the city. He and his friends had been there before, though. Just last week, in fact, as part of their bizarre eyeball-staring adventure with the witch, although that had been more of a ghostly visitation to the past.

Over a year ago, Hal and some of the others had visited the city for real. It had been empty and desolate, overrun by scrags, a place full of danger. This time, he expected it to be a much safer trip.

Since the road ahead was empty, the driver relaxed a little, rolling his shoulders. He glanced back at the chatting passengers, then peered into the rearview mirror for a lengthier study of them all. Hal caught him looking from one friend to another.

So . . . the driver said, then waited for the conversation to die before continuing. Shapeshifters, huh?

It wasn’t exactly a question, but Emily answered for them all. Yep.

The driver shook his head. "That beats everything. I heard about you guys months ago and didn’t believe a word. But there’s no denying those smoky portals, and I’ve seen centaurs with my own eyes, and also those gnarly little fellows, the goblins? I mean, it’s just