Sydney & Sakura: Inferno Rift

By H.R. Chambers

About the Book
“You have GOT to be kidding me!”
she thought in disbelief.
“Am I holding a sword?”
Sixteen-year-old Sydney is a relatively behaved teen. She keeps to herself, takes ballet classes, and excels in school. Life is busy, but it’s good. It’s just her and her mom against the world, with everything as it should be.
Until one fateful afternoon….
In the blink of an eye, Sydney is plunged into an interdimensional conflict and discovers a long-kept secret of her heritage. She endures harsh training and must defeat her own inner struggles in order to save the world she’s grown up in and the world her parents once called home.

About the Author
H.R. Chambers grew up in California where she loved reading books by Judy Blume and writing short stories. She graduated from college with a degree in Child Development in 2005 and worked for almost twenty years in the field, including owning and operating a daycare for nine years.
She currently lives in Arizona and is in the process of making writing her full-time career. She is married (going on 18 years) and is mother to two children and the best dog in the world. When not writing, H.R. enjoys reading, playing Animal Crossings: New Horizons and celebrating Halloween all year long.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886835717

Book preview

­­Chapter One ~ Sudden Battleground

Sydney sat on the edge of the stone fountain, stretched out her tired legs, and closed her eyes against the hot sun as the water gently splashed and bubbled behind her. Common sense told her she should be sitting in the shade instead of risking early onset skin cancer to wait for her mom, but the sun felt so good after being in Miss Tinsdale’s classroom for the past hour. The instructor insisted on keeping the room at a frosty sixty-eight degrees. Although dancing tended to make one break out in a sweat, the young teens in her class spent a lot of the time shivering in their pointe shoes. Sydney loved to stretch out in the sun after each lesson to properly defrost.

She’d thought about switching classes so many times for a different teacher or a better dance studio, but Miss Tinsdale offered her what other places couldn’t: affordable rates and convenient location made her the best option. Sydney had been in the same class with the same instructor since she was six and loved ballet too much to just give it up. She sighed and silently resolved to suck it up in the icy class.

Sydney opened her eyes and pulled up her right foot to give it a rub. She grimaced at her big toe, the nail grotesque shades of purple and black. Her other toes were covered in calluses, tiny blisters, and red marks. She absent-mindedly rubbed a blister on her pinky toe and popped it, causing clear fluid to squirt out. It’s no wonder pointe shoes are so graceful and pretty, she thought to herself, laughing inwardly, to hide the ugliness within!

She gingerly lowered her foot to the ground and wiggled it back into her flip flop. She made herself a mental promise of an Epsom salt foot soak when she got home, maybe with some of that lavender essential oil she’d received as a birthday gift. Her feet always felt tender and sore after class, often feeling muscle spasms in her feet for a few hours after. No matter her love for dance, Sydney was beginning to feel like a sixteen-year-old with the feet of a senior citizen.

She leaned back closed her eyes once again to the hot California sun, and inhaled deeply. An alarming smell of sulfur stung her nose and her eyes shot open. She jumped up and started looking around wildly to find the cause of the noxious odor, but nothing seemed out of place. The water in the fountain continued bubbling lazily and the sky was a clear, beautiful blue absent of any pollution. Sydney could hear the happy squeals of children on the playground just behind the dance studio.

She continued to look around, confused by the absence of something close by on fire. She took another deep breath and was equally confused by the sudden lack of sulfuric fumes. What the hell? she thought to herself. She took several deeper breaths, all resulting the same way ­— absolutely no sulfur smell, but she knew she’d smelled it and was sure of it.

Cautiously, she sat back down on the edge of the fountain. She closed her eyes again and inhaled deliberately. Acrid sulfur filled her nostrils once again, forcing her to cough. Sydney opened her eyes wide, looking around madly as she continued to hack. The sky was still clear, the fountain still splashing, and the small children still squealing. She inhaled gulps of air, unpolluted and clean. Sydney was horrified to discover her nostrils and throat raw from the foul, yet elusive smell.

Sydney? Are you okay?

From behind her, Sydney recognized the voice of Miss Tinsdale. She turned around, doing her best to suppress any more coughing. The ballet teacher was a tall woman, about five feet, ten inches tall, with the slender build of a seasoned dancer. She was pretty, with graying blond hair pulled in a tight bun on top of her head. She was dressed in a red leotard with nude tights and had a black tote bag slung over her right shoulder. Her blue eyes bore straight into Sydney’s green ones, a concerned look on her face.

Sydney took another deep breath and coughed again, relieved for clean air. She wiped her watering eyes with the backs of her hands and addressed Miss Tinsdale. I’m okay; I think, she croaked out. Is there a fire close by? I keep smelling something burning.

The look of concern on her teacher’s face faded into a confused one. She looked around, turning from side to side for some clue of something ablaze. Doesn’t seem like it, she said, shaking her head. I can’t smell anything burning at all. She stared at Sydney, her concern returning. Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.

Sydney placed her hand on her chest and took a long, deep breath without shutting her eyes. Her heart beat rhythmically beneath her fingers. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Yeah, I’m alright, she answered hoarsely. Maybe someone is having a Bar-B-Que and I just caught a whiff of it.

Miss Tinsdale looked around once more and shrugged. You must have a very sensitive nose, my dear. I’ll see you in class next week! She waved and turned to walk towards her red 2009 Honda Fit in the parking lot. Sydney noticed a shimmer float across her teacher’s back. She took a step back and rubbed her eyes, one at a time. She squinted and attempted to focus her vision. The shimmer was still there, moving like ripples of extreme heat in the desert.

I’m smelling things AND seeing things? she thought, flabbergasted.

Sydney!

Her body jolted at the urgent, gurgled hiss of her name. Miss Tinsdale was already driving away and no one else was close by.

Sydney don’t move!

The hiss was clearer and desperately insistent. She could feel every hair on her body stand on end and her skin felt alive with electricity. A distinct, invisible presence pressed against her left side and commanded, Trust me!

The voice was strong and female. Sydney felt icy shards of fear wrap around each nerve in her limbs while a bone-chilling cold engulfed her fingers and toes. The shimmer grew over her eyes until she felt as though she was trying to see through murky water. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the sulfur returned violently and began to suffocate her. She opened her mouth and tried to scream, but her terror remained stuck in her raw throat.

Don’t close your eyes, Sydney! Open them, now!

The whisper was now a shout and Sydney immediately obeyed. The shimmer remained, taking on an eerie red hue. She suddenly felt a heavy weight in her hands. It felt like a handle with some type of coil around it. You have GOT to be kidding me! she thought in disbelief. Am I holding a sword?

Yes, you are, the voice answered.

In an instant, a numbness came over Sydney and she could no longer control her arms or legs. What she did feel was a presence: the same presence that was by her ear a moment ago was now invading her entire being. Her sight began to clear. The red hue remained, but her surroundings now resembled a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Blackened, broken bricks lay in disarray where the ballet studio had stood, resembling the remains of a bombing. The small playground consisted of a melted, twisted slide and a smoldering jungle gym. The fountain remained mostly intact, but it spouted and flowed with thick, black goo that smoked and bubbled like hot tar. The parking lot was destroyed, with deep cracks that revealed steamy lava pushing its way to the surface.

Sydney was dizzy from fear and confusion. She wanted to scream, cry…anything, really. She was powerless, paralyzed and trapped by this unknown force.

Suddenly, her hands clasped the sword and swung it above her head. Her body lurched forward, running towards a large, slimy mound that was slithering out of a hole in the ground. As she got closer, she gagged at the gruesome sight. It appeared to be a giant slug, at least nine feet tall and grossly deformed, with two bony arms protruding from its sides that it was using to drag its otherwise limbless body. Its skin was slick with black and dark green mucus while its back was covered with huge pores that oozed yellow pus. The two bulging eyes on the top of its head widened at the sight of Sydney charging towards it. The terrifying creature released an ear-piercing howl, revealing a mouth full of sharp and twisted fangs dripping with spit.

As she closed in on the creature, it flung itself forward using its skinny arms in a clumsy crawl. It roared horribly and spit a revolting yellow ball at her. The ball landed on the ground with a creepy ‘splat’ and burst. The liquid bubbled and hissed, melting into the ground beneath it.

With a bound and a leap, Sydney’s body soared through the air as her arms began to bring the sword down. A vicious shout erupted from her chest as the blade crashed into the slug’s head; a sickening crack followed by squirts of gray bile and brain-like goo. The creature let out a pained scream, reared up, and started thrashing its pathetically thin arms. Sydney leaped out of the way, but not before a bony hand scratched her cheek.

Her body lunged straight for the beast, thrusting the blade deep into its slimy chest. A stomach-turning crunch sounded from deep within the creature, followed by a frightening wail as it swayed back and forth. She yanked the sword out and was showered with warm, gray liquid that gushed from the open wound. The smell reminded her of hot vomit, and she grew shaky with nausea.

The beast continued to wail and sway, slowing down with each squirt of horrible bile. Its body suddenly reared up once more and it emitted one final screech before it came tumbling down, defeated. Sydney stared down at the creature, rigid with death. The mucus covering its body turned from black and green to an ashy gray as it solidified and turned to stone. The stone then cracked and broke, turning into fine dust as it evaporated.

Before she could observe it any further, her vision began to blur once again. As the ripples deepened, the red hue faded. The cold, numb feeling that had held her body hostage was starting to retreat. She wiggled her fingers to confirm she was indeed regaining her own independent movement.

Her sight was the last thing to return to normal and she found herself back in her original surroundings. She spun around quickly to check everything: the fountain was intact and filled with clear water, the building standing upright, and the children’s happy laughter filled the air.

Sydney was aware of a painful feeling and looked down at her hands. She gasped at how filthy they were, caked with mud and bleeding from several cuts. She fearfully realized it wasn’t just her hands. Her tights were torn and dirty, and her leotard was patched with filth. She reached up and felt pebbles and twigs caught throughout her once perfect, now destroyed bun.

What just happened? she uttered out loud to herself, staring at the clear blue sky.

 Syd! Let’s go!

She was startled and jumped at the shout. It wasn’t an urgent hiss or a disembodied shout. It was her mom, yelling from the car. She shook off her shock, grabbed her dance bag, and raced towards the idling car. She just wanted to get far away and fast.

Chapter Two ~ The Yama Account

The office was colder than normal, five degrees to be precise. He could feel the minuscule drop in temperature in his aged bones. He exhaled a frustrated sigh, mentally cursing his sensitivity to such psaltery nuances. His slate gray eyes gazed out the large window overlooking the bustling city: car horns blaring, traffic lights flashing, infuriated patrons cursing to themselves and at each other. The weather did nothing to improve his mood. The humid day was overcast with thick clouds of pollution that cast misery upon the hapless, pathetic population below.

The intercom on his desk buzzed loudly behind him. His secretary’s high-pitched voice crackled past the speaker and bounced off the chic, gray walls. The echo of it grated on the very last of his nerves. Mr. Crowe? she squeaked.

Yes, Daisy, what is it now? he barked, irritated.

Your wife is on the line, sir. She says it’s urgent.

Tell her I’ll call her back. He sighed, pressing his temples and trying to suppress the annoyance of her voice.

She says it’s regarding the Yama account, sir.

The rubbing abruptly stopped. He grabbed the phone off his desk, cleared his throat, and briskly replied, Thank you. I’ll take the call. A shrill beep followed, patching him through to line one.

Contact made, Ulric. No formalities, only a stern female voice cutting right to the chase on the other end of the line. A young girl.

Confirmed? he asked skeptically.

Confirmed by Field Officer Lani, sir. She witnessed the entire encounter. And sir?

Yes?

As theorized, the Mortal One can cross over.

Ulric lowered himself into his chair before asking, Are you sure?

Affirmative, sir. F.O. Lani watched her eyes go white before engaging in battle. She has video footage, sir. I will get it to you soon.

She engaged in BATTLE? Ulric sputtered in disbelief.

Yes, sir, Duraine replied. A Sludge was killed.

Ulric gripped the phone tightly. He felt as though his office was now ten inches from the sun as sweat beaded across his forehead. Where is she? he demanded.

In California, sir. A city called Riverside, in the southern part of the state.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before rattling off a barrage of orders. Send in two teams: one reconnaissance and one clean-up crew on standby. I want to know everything about this mortal in three days.

Three days, sir?

Three days, Duraine! I want to know this mortal’s favorite food, her greatest fear, who her friends are, and why in the HELL she was able to engage in battle! Ulric yelled. His angry voice echoed off the walls of his sterile office. His chest heaved with rage and hot breath pulsed through his nostrils. He hadn’t felt this amount of rage in so many years.

Three days, Duraine. That’s an order, he repeated gravely, composing himself.

Yes, sir, she replied and hung up.

Ulric placed the phone back in its cradle, got out of his chair, and walked back to the window. The city continued to buzz beneath him, but he couldn’t see any of it. In his mind’s eye Ulric could see the unmarked cars driving to an abandoned building or house, a select squad of men and women setting up a Clean Room, laptops humming and blinking to life, a large map with pushpin locations, sightings and addresses. He could see the clean-up crew with their disinfected instruments, able to wipe memories and make things look like an unfortunate accident.

He let loose another breath, but this one was calming. He could feel the pulse in his ears slowing. The sheer audacity that the girl had engaged in battle with a Sludge and defeated it was almost too much to process. How did she do it? he wondered and continued to stare down at the city without really seeing it.

Chapter Three ~ Unexplainable

Sydney pushed the front door of her house open and wasted no time racing up the stairs to her room, her mom’s voice hollering questions behind her. She ran into her room, slammed the door behind her, and locked it. She dropped her dance bag and sank to the floor, her hands shaking. She could hear her mom climbing up the stairs, each step producing an antiquated squeak that emphasized an older home in need of some repairs.

Sydney! her mom yelled, pounding on the door. What on earth has gotten into you? How did you hurt yourself?

It’s nothing, Mom! she yelled back through the door.

How did you get so dirty? What happened to your clothes? Do you know how expensive all that is?

I…uh…, Sydney stammered. I…umm….

Were you in a fight? Can you just tell me what happened, PLEASE? You might need to see a doctor for the cuts! Miraculously, the doorbell rang. Sydney could hear her mom let out an exasperated breath. She yelled out, Be right there! And after a second, she said, And YOU, young lady, will have an explanation for me IN TEN MINUTES. Do you understand? Before she could reply, she heard the telltale squeak of the stairs as her mother descended them to answer the door.

She let out a sigh of relief, glad to be home for the moment. She looked at her filthy, bloodied hands, wrists, and arms. A sudden itching sensation started to spread under the sleeves of her leotard. She walked to her closet mirror doors and gasped at her dirt covered face, the angry abrasion on her right cheek, and her disheveled hair. Her leotard was splotched with mud and a deep, yellow stain, while her tights were torn to shreds, resembling a cat’s scratching post.

What the hell? she wondered out loud.

Sydney! Take off your clothes! I have to heal you, NOW!

She let out a surprised yelp and looked wildly around her room. The light, yellow walls were adorned with Keanu Reeves and cat posters, along with a vintage map of the world that she’d purchased at a thrift store. Her shelves were home to all her favorite books, neighbored by her dance and school awards. Aside from all the stuffed animals on her bed, she was alone.

Who…who are you? she sputtered.

 I will explain later! Do as I say now! The female voice was commanding and urgent.

But what…, Sydney started to argue into thin air.

If I don’t heal you soon, the Sludge’s venom will get into your bloodstream, and you will die! Take off your clothes now!

Sydney silently obeyed and began peeling off her pink leotard. She gingerly pulled the fabric away from parts of her arms with red, swollen welts, but some of her skin peeled off with the fabric. She grimaced at the welts. They seemed to move, almost alive with the beast’s poison.

Now hold still and keep as quiet as possible. This will help, but it’s going to hurt.

What do you mean hur—OW! Sydney yelped again.

I said be quiet! the voice barked.

She set her jaw and focused her watery eyes on the mirror. She watched as the raw wounds on her arms began to fade. It was excruciating; it felt as though someone was scraping sandpaper on a bad sunburn and then pouring antiseptic on it. It reminded her of the time that she fell off her bike and her mom had to clean gravel out of her knees.

Sydney found her voice as her final injury, the cut on her cheek, began to fade. Who are you? Please, what just happened to me? she begged the empty air.

That information is not yet imperative to the mission, the voice stated bluntly and with authority.

Mission? What are you talking about?

Sydney, just trust me. I’ll explain later, but right now I need to do a perimeter check and make sure this area is secure. I’m here to protect you and you’ll stay alive as long as you do exactly as I command. Do you understand?

Sydney nodded, still staring wide-eyed at the mirror and her now injury free face. She felt alone again, as if a presence had left.

Hello? she asked cautiously. There was no answer. Only her stuffed animals and Keanu Reeves smiling at her. Sydney pulled on a pair of turquoise sweats and a white tank top. She brushed out the debris from her hair as best she could and pulled it back into