Read Crossroads and the Dominion of Four Page 5


  “Stellar!” Seneca said in astonishment. “I didn’t know you had ninja reflexes like that.”

  “I didn’t know it either. I guess we can blame it on the crystals,” he said coyly.

  “I wonder why that one came alone?”

  “I think he was their test pilot to see if we were still in fighting mode. It kind of looks like they’re in a holding pattern.”

  “Do you think they’re giving up?”

  “Not likely—just look at ’em.” Jake shook his head in disbelief.

  There were too many to count. They hovered in a massive swarm and moved as a unit in a slow approach. Even their growls were in sync. Seneca had a sinking feeling their numbers were increasing. They shifted into a tight formation, creating a dark mass across the sky that moved directly at them.

  “Here they come!” Jake bellowed. “Hit ’em where it hurts!”

  “I’ll try!” she shouted. “They are relentless buggers!”

  Jake knocked them down one or two at a time. They attempted to come at him from all sides. His arms crisscrossed, and he took out one after another. He swayed with ease to avoid being hit or allowing them to get too close.

  Seneca watched his movements and began to imitate his rhythm. Her punches weren’t as lethal, but she heard enough crying and screeching to know she was hurting them. Only a few were able to return for a second run at her, but they were unrelenting. For each one she knocked down, two more would join in to grab and scratch at her. She was quick in avoiding their razor-sharp claws. She was thankful Jake had identified how to detect when their burning venom was coming. She was able to successfully time their discharge, but she worried she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. Her arms felt heavy the more she swung them. Her muscles were tightening up, and the repetition made them burn. Sweat dripped from her forehead, chin, and arms. Seneca rotated her position and began grabbing the flying creatures out of midair. She threw them down, where they would meet her foot in full swing. Using a hard kick was an effective strategy. She continued booting one after another; this adjustment gave her a surge of adrenaline—so much so that she began beckoning and taunting them to come closer. Several accepted the challenge and zipped directly at her. She kicked them with such great force that they whirled into incoming flyers, knocking them down in midair. Their outcries appeared to frighten the others, and Seneca was elated when they began to scatter.

  “Take that, you grimy pests!” Seneca shouted jubilantly.

  “Seneca, we have a reprieve. Let’s head to the hillside now,” Jake said.

  “I’m right behind you!” yelled Seneca. “If I’d known how powerful my kick was, I would’ve been using my feet much sooner.”

  She raced up the hill and tried her best to keep up with Jake. Her thighs burned, and her muscles tightened as she powered through and pushed her body past resistance with each stride. She was determined not to let up as they dashed up the steep terrain. Their attackers began letting up the higher they climbed.

  One by one, the flying attackers backed off and withdrew to the valley below. Only one remained close, but it had a different tactic. It stayed just beyond Seneca’s reach and did not attack, hovering strategically a few inches from her face. Its dark eyes were close together and extremely large for its narrow face. Its nose was thin and curled on the end, with nostrils that formed narrow slits. The mouth gaped open, allowing putrid green venom to drip to the ground below. Seneca waited for the sound she had grown accustomed to. She would know when to dodge the acidic discharge. However, it didn’t growl or gurgle. It had been given a different assignment.

  “Keep running, cowards! Brigara’s coming for you,” it said derisively in a high and grating tone. It laughed hauntingly as the green poison dripped from its mouth.

  Having delivered the cryptic message, it hissed just above Seneca’s head before it darted into the dark valley below. Seneca slowed briefly as she watched it retreat. She called out after it was clearly out of range.

  “Yeah, you’d better get out of here, you scruffy snot!” Seneca shouted as loudly as she could.

  She turned and raced up the hill and didn’t stop running until she’d reached the top of the ridge. She bent over to catch her breath and thought about what she had heard. The attack had been provoked by Brigara, and it was personal.

  “That was impressive!” said Jake with labored breathing.

  “Which part? The running like a crazy person or the avoidance of being burned with putrid acid spit?” She massaged her ribs in an effort to ease a sharp pain.

  “Well, both, I guess,” he replied with a smirk. “You’re tiny, but you’ve got spunk. Those kicks were lethal!”

  “I always tell people, don’t let my size fool them, or my blonde hair. I’ve got brains and brawn!”

  Seneca ran her hands through her cropped hair and gave a satisfied nod. She had always enjoyed looking different from the rest of the girls her age, but it wasn’t intentional. She had chosen to maintain a short hairstyle as a time saver, but it had the extra benefit of making her unique. Her clothing was simple, and she gravitated toward black most often, not because she was into the gothic subculture but because she didn’t want to worry if the colors she wore matched. Her appearance was simple and uncomplicated, much as her life had been, until they’d stumbled into the Otherworld.

  “Ha! No kidding! That last buzzing creature must have liked your hair, because it was giving you a personal escort,” Jake said.

  “Not funny, but you’re not too far off. She was more of a personal-message deliverer.”

  “It talked to you?” Jake’s eyes grew large, his expression serious. “What did it say?”

  “Well, it was something along the lines of we’re cowards and Brigara sent them.”

  “What? Brigara? Oh no!” Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. “What about Conner and Shayna?”

  “Oh my god!” said Seneca. She looked down the side of the hill and saw no sign of them. “Do you think they were attacked too?”

  “Most likely.” He stared into the darkness in search of movement or anything that would let them know their friends were okay.

  “But Conner’s tough, and Shayna’s got that sword thing going for her, right?” Seneca looked at Jake for reassurance. She saw his blank expression and grew even more concerned. She wanted and needed a positive reply to help settle herself down.

  “I’m right, aren’t I, Jake?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. They’re fine. I’m sure of it.”

  Jake hoped they were having success in fending off the acid-spitting creatures. The fact that they hadn’t seen any sign of them was bothersome. He forced himself not to conjure up any negative images.

  “We have to think positive—they’re fine,” he said. He knew saying it out loud was for his own benefit. “They will take them down just like we did.”

  “I think we’d better get moving,” Seneca said.

  She’d rested long enough and was ready to put more distance between them and their attackers. The top of the ridge was probably not the safest place. She also could see that Jake was rattled by the idea of Conner and Shayna being in danger.

  “Did you tell them about the hill, going north, and the rest of the info?” Jake asked. He wondered if he should head back down to search.

  “I think so, but to be honest, I don’t remember what I said,” Seneca replied. She let out a deep sigh, and they strolled side by side in silence.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Stuck in the Mud

  Seneca and Jake walked for quite a while in silence. They constantly looked over their shoulders, around hedges, and up into the trees. They were on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Jake finally took a deep breath and began to relax slightly. He thought it was safe to broach the topic of their intended destination. He knew in his heart that Seneca was struggling with coming t
o grips with their situation. He didn’t know who was leading the way and feared they were wandering around aimlessly. Up until that point, he had resisted the urge to express his frustration and decided that keeping quiet was the better choice. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Hey, Seneca, did Dreya say how long we had to walk north before we found the gully?” Jake asked.

  “No, but she didn’t exactly get the chance,” she replied. “Plus, I’m still new at the telepathy stuff. I might have missed something or totally got it backward.”

  “That’s not reassuring,” he said. He let the words linger in the air. He was nervous that they had been walking too long without any signs of Conner, Shayna, or the gully. “Maybe it would help if you repeated it again—just to be sure.”

  “I’ve repeated it three times already!” Seneca bit her lip to calm herself. “If there were more to it, I would have said so.”

  “I’m just saying that it helps sometimes to review. In case you missed something,” Jake said as he kicked up a clump of mud.

  He noticed the ground getting softer, and much of it was muddy as they made their way through the glen with rows of mature trees along each side. It was harder to walk through, since his sneakers periodically got wedged too deep in the muck.

  “Ugh! I hate this crappy mud,” said Seneca. She’d noticed Jake’s frustrations with it and decided it was a great way to change the subject.

  “Can you imagine what Shayna would be saying about her boots about now?” asked Jake. “‘Curses! My precious boots are getting so filthy!’” His voice was shrill. It wasn’t a good impersonation of Shayna, and he knew it. His goal was to lighten the mood, and this was a sure way to do it.

  “Yeah, she’d be complaining up a storm, but I can’t imagine her sounding as silly as you.” Seneca laughed. “Hey, wait a second. I just remembered something else Dreya said.”

  “What is it?” asked Jake. He felt a nervous surge in the pit of his stomach.

  “She mentioned that we needed to follow the mossy path to the gully. Yeah, that’s exactly what she said.” Seneca beamed.

  “Mossy path? Really?” Jake stopped and looked squarely at Seneca. “How can we see a mossy path with all of this mud?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we missed it.”

  “Maybe?” Jake snapped. He tried to push down his anger, but his tone said it all. He sighed heavily because he knew Seneca wasn’t intentionally making things difficult.

  “Sorry. It’s not your fault,” he said with sincerity.

  “No, I’m sorry. It’s just that so much was happening at once,” she said.

  “I get it. No worries, okay? I know it’s been difficult.” He looked into her eyes to let her know he meant every word. She dipped her head slightly in response and wiped away a tear before it could spill over.

  “Let’s get out of this glen. We need to head this way. I remember seeing a path that might have had moss,” Jake said. He had a sudden burst of renewed energy. He took the lead and began making his way through thicker mud.

  Seneca felt a slight tingle down the center of her back. It was an itch she couldn’t ignore. She knew her wings were just on the edge of emergence. She had to focus on keeping them contained. Each step she took was tentative. She didn’t want to risk accidentally brushing against a tree or anything that might make a sound. She thought about the relaxation techniques her mother used whenever she felt overwhelmed. She was beginning to understand that her mother had been training her for years to control her wings and keep them hidden. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She recalled the routine of repeating that step five times.

  Seneca concluded the first round of the breathing exercises and began to feel the effects. She moved to the second interval and took in a deep, cleansing breath but stopped mid-exhale and froze. Not only were her wings tingling, but every hair on her body stood on end. She was all too familiar with this feeling. It was the signal for danger. She reached out to get Jake’s attention. He was standing less than a foot in front of her. Before she could tap his shoulder, she was immediately stopped. Her legs collapsed, and a searing pain between her shoulder blades forced her down to the ground. She was stunned for a moment before it registered that she was trapped.

  “Jake––help! Something’s got me. It’s holding me down!” Shayna screamed.

  She had never felt anything so painful. An image of her wings being ripped from her back flashed before her eyes, but she knew it wasn’t possible. They were hidden. All that she felt confirmed it, yet the pain was centered in the area where they rested.

  “I think you might just be tangled in tree roots,” said Jake. He assumed she was just feeling a bit on edge due to the recent attack.

  “No! It’s alive—I can feel it moving!” yelled Seneca. She was frantic and wrestled to break free.

  “Grab my hand, Seneca! What is that?” asked Jake. “You’re right. There is something moving beneath you!” He began kicking at the moving object near her legs. It burrowed into the damp soil. He slid his foot across the area and felt only mounds of mud. “Let me help you up. I think it’s gone now,” said Jake.

  Seneca reached out to catch hold of his hand, but her arms were immediately pinned back. Jake grabbed her arms, but something pulled against his efforts and slammed her back to the ground.

  “What the—” Jake’s jaw dropped.

  He could only make out what appeared to be a partial outline of a figure positioned beneath Seneca in the grubby dark surface. It was difficult to make out exactly what he saw. Whatever it was created a mound slightly above the surface and was covered in brush, dirt and fallen leaves. Jake stooped down to get a closer look. He touched it and realized it was an exposed root from a large silver maple tree. He saw no other movement and rationalized he was just being delusional.

  He grabbed hold of Seneca’s wrists and pulled. She didn’t budge. Seneca screamed. Dark, mud-covered branch-like arms stretched out from beneath her and clawed at Jake’s hands, drawing blood before retracting. Jake released his grip and cringed from the pain. He felt the blood trickle down his exposed skin.

  “Jake, what is it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the tree’s alive or something.”

  The muddy branches wrapped around Seneca’s waist and chest, pulling her tighter into the mud.

  “I can’t move. It’s holding me down, and I can’t get away!” she cried. “It’s so tight. I can’t breathe!”

  “Seneca, we’ve gotta get you on your feet!” said Jake. He tried to sound calm, but he was unable to hide his fear.

  He strained to make his eyes adjust to the dark. Everything blended into the darkness. The foliage and leaves were caked in mud, making everything slippery. He lost his footing and grip each time he tugged to get her free of the entanglement. “I need to find something to wedge between you and whatever’s holding you down,” he said.

  “I stepped on some branches,” said Seneca in a weak voice. “They were on the other side of this glade.” She continued to wrestle to break free. The harder she pulled, the tighter the hold became. Her ribs ached, and she strained her neck to the point it felt numb.

  “Okay. Good idea!” said Jake. He jetted off in a full-out sprint.

  “Hurry, Jake, please!” she shouted. She unrelentingly twisted her body to escape from her abductor. Whatever held her down was just as persistent and showed no signs of releasing her.

  Jake frantically searched the ground for tree limbs or anything he could use as a wedge. The forest was thick and encircled them. It reminded him of an outdoor arena, and the clearing allowed only enough moonlight to brighten a small area. He felt as if a spotlight were on him to perform, and he was ill prepared. Everything beyond the surrounding trees was in complete darkness.

  “Oh my God, Jake, it hurts. It’s scraping the skin on my back! It’s trying to claw out my wings!” scre
amed Seneca. “Stop! Let me go!” She wrestled wildly to break away. “Help!”

  “I’m going to go look behind those shrubs. Hang on, Seneca!” shouted Jake. “Keep fighting. Don’t stop fighting!”

  He hurdled over a mound of junipers but nearly fell when his foot latched on to it. He stumbled as he attempted to get untangled before realizing he had to steer clear of a cluster of thorny bushes.

  “Damn obstacle course!” he grumbled.

  He cringed in pain when he realized a few thorns had pierced through his jeans and into his thigh. He brushed past two hornbeam hedges with profuse branches. Their russet-orange leaves were draped in an intricate spiderweb; its talented architect remained hidden. The sticky web traps clung to his legs, but he didn’t bother to brush them away. He was desperate to find anything that could be used as a wedge. He turned around frantically in a circle. He pushed through a thicket of shrubbery, releasing a powerful scent of fragrant red berries. The smell made him woozy, and he stumbled off balance. In frustration, he kicked up a pile of damp, rotting leaves. He was at a loss.

  “Come back—don’t leave me!” screeched Seneca. “I’m scared, Jake! I’m really scared.”

  Her voice trailed off. Saying it out loud made her panic even more. She started kicking nonstop and flailing her body to loosen the hold. The harder she fought, the more she could feel a renewed grasp on another part of her body. Dagger-sharp claws scraped at her flesh. She forced another scream, but her throat was dry, and her pleas were weakening in their intensity.

  Jake realized it was a bad idea to leave her alone. He raced back to her side. Even in the dark, he could see blood soaking through her shirt. He knelt down next to her and put his palm to her cheek. Her skin was cold and clammy but warmed slightly beneath his touch. He knew the marshy ground was contributing to her drop in temperature and feared she would go into shock. He had to act quickly.