Shifting (19 page)

On the ground, attention was given to the third boat, so the twins joined, assuming that the Albion was next. The voice began again as the battle raged on overhead.

“The Albion watched helplessly as their family ships were assaulted, and kept watch around their own ship, waiting for what was inevitably to come.”

The great ship Albion lunged upward with no warning, and from the sky, a crew member’s voice echoed over the crashing waves. ‘We’re being hit from below! They’ll tear us to shreds.’

“Surfacing under the Albion were the Slopikes,” explained Balloch, “whose jagged spikes impaled the wooden ship. Their shells were indestructible, no spell could penetrate them.” The Slopikes were a slow but deadly force. The scene in the sky was chaos; three ships in great peril. The Shrieker Birds dove between the ships, knocking people overboard, where they would meet their doom, if not by the raging water itself, by the Amphivena, Salt Spiders, or the Slopikes.

“Exhausted and losing faith that they could win, the ships resorted to their final energy reserves: belts stocked with potions and stored magic. When all hope seemed lost, the raging winds subsided. The storm dissolved, and was replaced by precious calm. Without the storm absorbing their energy, the Gypsies were renewed.”

The audience cheered.

“With great effort and sacrifice, they began regaining control of their ships. Three men and two women on board the Freedom attacked the Amphivena together, shooting a spell that would cause any normal man to wither and die. The crushing beast released its grip on the ship and faded into the depths of the ocean. The Freedom raced to the aid of the nearby Malden, infested with Salt Spiders. Many people on board had been captured and rendered helpless, having been bound in seaweed-like cocoons. With no known spell to repel the spiders, the enemy began claiming the Freedom as well.”

Balloch Flummer paused, beginning again in a lowered voice.

“In our most dire moment, a young man fighting on the Freedom found himself backed into a corner with nowhere to hide. The spider launched a harpoon at the young man, missing him, but breaking open a barrel of fresh drinking water, washing away the salt water on the ship’s deck. The spider recoiled, clearly in pain. Realizing instantly what this meant, the young man ran through the ship shouting, ‘Fresh water! Use fresh water!’ Hope returned!” Balloch’s voice rang exuberantly as he continued.

“Cries of Viridatas, the spell to turn salt water into fresh, were overheard by the nearby Malden and they urgently began to do the same. Soon, they forced the Salt Spiders back into the ocean, their webbed legs smoothly spinning their way across the calming waters. The cocoons were cut down and the people freed.”

Svoda shouted cheers at the sky.

“One ship remained under attack,” the story teller reminded. “The Albion. The Shriekers, seeing their allies fail, broke off their attack, soaring into the rising sun. No longer hearing the 93

birds call, the Slopikes ended their rampage on the Albion, and swam into the depths. The damage to the Albion was severe. Half the ship remained under water.” The narrator took a break from speaking and the scene in the night sky changed to the Freedom and the Malden racing to the aid the sinking Albion.

“The Albion knew their beloved ship was lost. The Freedom and Malden approached, lowering their boats to save the remaining passengers of the Albion, whose own boats had already been released into the waters - boats which were nowhere to be found.” Balloch paused, before his lamentation continued.

“The Albion sank, taking twenty souls down to the depths with her.” The audience went quiet, except for the sniffles of saddened Svoda. The narrator began again and the scene above changed.

“The two remaining ships searched in vain for the four boats released from the Albion. It was believed they carried over sixty survivors. They found no sign that the boats had survived the battle, and after the third day, the search was called off.” The storyteller’s voice broke up as he continued.

“A mass funeral was held in respect for those lost during the battle. Four hundred and forty-four remained alive, with over a hundred missing and presumed dead.” A long minute of silence took place then, as the Svoda paid their respects to their brave ancestors. Then, the scene above morphed from gloomy darkness to brightly sunlit skies, and the remaining ships sailed onward to their new home.

“What do you think so far, Sis?” asked Colin, overwhelmed by the story.

“I can’t believe we’re sitting outside under the sky, watching an action packed movie.” She instantly sensed Colin’s anger rising. “Don’t worry, Col, I get the point. I just don’t understand why they’d want to relive such a depressing story, year after year.” They tuned back in to the narrator.

“The Freedom and the Malden arrived at their new home eight days later, battered and beaten, but not broken. A few settlers, who had arrived months before, waited on shore, alongside our Native American allies, the Tunkapog.”

“Now you had to hear that!” exclaimed Colin, nearly out loud.

“Tunkapog! Did he say Tunkapog? Kanda is a Tunkapog,” was all Meghan could manage to send back.

“The arrival was a sad day,” the story continued, “as the two arriving ships made port, and the crew explained their nightmarish journey. The arriving settlers dauntingly moved into their new homes. Homes built by those that had arrived before them, along with the aid of the Tunkapog, who remain to this day, one of our greatest allies.”

“Okay, this is too much!” said Meghan, accidentally aloud. She tried to shrink in her stone chair, but glares and shushing ensued, including an extremely rotten look from Ivan Crane.

After the crowd turned their attention back toward the skies, Colin sent her, “Good one, Sis.” He added, “Does that mean Kanda knew the Svoda? Did she know we were from a magical family?”

Meghan did not reply.

The story drew them back in.

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“By the end of the first day the ships were emptied. The Tunkapog set out to prepare a feast for the weary travelers. Their knowledge of herbs and flowers not only tasted magnificent after the mundane foods of the journey, but eased the settlers’ pain, too.”

“Hm,” huffed Meghan. “No wonder I always felt so good after drinking Kanda’s tea.” Balloch continued.

“The retelling will conclude tonight, with the same speech given by Nethaniel Bedgewood, at the end of that first feast.”

A new voice filled the night sky.

‘I am humbled to be amongst friends. We are forever in debt to our new neighbors, the Tunkapog, for their help these many months in preparing our new home, and for tonight, this needed and gracious feast. I am also delighted to learn that we were able to cure the Tunkapog from the fatal disease brought here by bad magic.

‘To my fellow settlers, I have also made the decision that from this day forth, in memory of our journey and those lost to us, that this day each year we will hold such a feast. It will be called Thanksgiving, a day to remember and give thanks for what friends and blessings remain.’

He toasted the entire group, which filled the massive beach. Cheers and cries returned the toast.

‘If I could have your attention, one last time,’ Nethaniel then spoke. ‘I have made another decision, one that affects us all. Now that we have a home, I feel it is only fitting that we also have a name.’

Full attention was on Nethaniel Bedgewood as he spoke, from the audience in the sky, and on the ground below.

‘From this day forth, as a neverending reminder of the peace each and every one of us strive for, we shall be known as the Svoda, the People of Light.’”

The crowd in the scene roared, along with the crowd watching on the ground below. The scene above began to fade and the sky once again became dark and starless, as a light snow began to fall. The stone chairs moved back into normal sitting position, the pumpkin lanterns were lit once again, and the crowd began to disperse.

Ivan tilted his head toward Meghan.

“Not what you expected was it?” he said snidely.

“You talking to me?” she questioned.

“I was simply noting the fact that you did not think this would be worth your time!” He got up and left, leaving a speechless Meghan, for the second time that night.

Colin and Jae swore they saw steam bursting from her ears, and after a tense minute, she finally mustered out the words, “I hate that boy.”

Sheila leaned her head on Irving’s shoulder as they walked home. He held her arm tightly in one hand, and grasped his daughters in the other. Jae walked behind alongside the twins. Ivan sauntered behind them, deep in thought.

Meghan had the strange feeling he was watching her and wanted to turn around and throw something at him.

“Wasn’t that incredible?” exclaimed Jae.

“That was pretty wild,” agreed Meghan.

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“Banon Blackwell stores up extra magic all year for that,” Jae added.

Colin had questions he wanted to ask Jae, but Meghan cut him off.

“This is not the place, Col, we better wait.”

Before they reached the Mochrie house, Darcy Scraggs confronted the trio.

“So, Mr. Jacoby, do you have what I asked for?”

“No. I have nothing for you,” he stuttered back.

“Well well well, going to be some trouble brewing, isn’t there?” She raised her hand as if she were going to use a spell; the three gasped and ducked as Darcy shrieked with laughter and scurried away.

“Is it possible,” thundered Meghan, “to go just one day without having a problem around here?”

“What kind of problem?” It was Ivan, looking smug (so Meghan thought at least).

“Just Darcy Scraggs, Ivan, been hassling us a lot lately,” explained Jae.

“What about?” he asked.

“Oh, no one thing, just our general ability to exist.”

“Sounds like good ‘ole Darcy. Good luck with that!” He sauntered off, losing interest.

“That was too close,” said Jae, relieved.

“I agree,” chorused the twins. They hurried inside, where an odd scene was unraveling.

Irving, Sheila and Mireya knelt over the basement door, their ears glued to floor.

“Is that knocking?” asked Jae.

“Corny?” questioned Sheila.

Irving bent over to open the door. The others stepped back, waiting as the door creaked open, but nothing happened. They leaned in closer, when from the musty darkness below, a wrinkled hand holding a tablet of paper pushed up through. Jae grabbed the paper and Corny’s hand disappeared; they could hear the sandpaper shuffle as his glided across the basement floor.

“I think this is for you, Colin,” said Jae, humorously. Colin grabbed it. The drawing was identical to the others.

“That’s four now,” counted Meghan. “You totally have a new best friend,” she joked.

“Whatever,” he snapped back. Ivan’s eyes combed over the page from the top of the stair; he took a fleeting glance at Colin and then disappeared into his room.

“How strange,” said Sheila. “He does appear to have taken a liking to the boy.”

“That’s good, for Corny,” replied Irving. They shielded their laughter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Later, upstairs, they waited impatiently for Mireya to fall asleep. Meghan had told Jae they wanted to ask him about the retelling. Once she was soundly sleeping, Jae motioned for them climb up to the loft. The twins eagerly followed. Jae opened the small door to the hidden crawl space and they crawled inside. After two feet they entered a square room, which was tall enough only to sit in.

“We need to talk softly, but it’s safe,” he said, lighting a candle. Colin’s heart raced. He felt as though he were passing along dark secrets to a spy, and as he thought that, he realized it was somewhat true.

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“I’ve never figured out what this room was built for,” said Jae, “But it sure is handy tonight.” Colin’s curiosity got the better of him and he assaulted Jae with questions about the retelling.

“That was an unbelievable story, Jae. Do those enemies still exist? Have you ever seen them? I can’t believe there are scarier things out there than Scratchers.”

“I can’t say for sure that they do,” answered Jae. “But our real enemy does; the one who actually ordered those creatures to take down our ships.”

“Who is that?” asked Colin, not sure he wanted to know.

“The Grosvenor,” replied Jae. “Immortal beings,” he added in a low whisper.

“That sort of thing exists?” muttered Colin.

“Unfortunately. Do you remember when I told you, back in Cobbscott, that magic was nearly wiped out a long time ago? The Grosvenor are responsible for the battle that caused that. They even killed off their own kind, it didn’t matter to them.”

“Their own kind?” questioned Meghan.

“Vetala. Otherwise known as Vampyres. Not Vampyres in the sense of what your world thinks of them, as they do not suck blood. What they do is just as monstrous though. They can suck the life force out of any living thing,” Jae told them.

“And the Grosvenor still hunt you?” asked Colin.

“Yes, and if they get the opportunity, they will destroy all magic but their own.”

“You mean they want to take over the world kind-a-thing,” Meghan confirmed.

“On the bright side, though, even in all the years since that battle, they have not succeeded.” The twins exhaled in unison. They were now included on the list of magical things to destroy.

They saw no bright side.

“Do they send the Scratchers after you?” Colin asked after a minute.

“It’s likely. I think the Viancourt believes that the person you heard speaking to the Scratchers, at the pine tree back home…”

“The one you called the Scratchman,” interrupted Colin.

“Yes. It is possible that what you saw could have been one of the Grosvenor, which is a terrifying thought to consider, that one of them could have been so close.” Meghan did not want to think about terrifying any longer and decided it was time to discuss the Tunkapog.

“Did you know that Camp Agunkpot is owned and run by someone from the Tunkapog Tribe?” she asked.

“Yes,” answered Jae slowly. “That’s right. I don’t know why it never dawned on me before now. You’re good friends with the owner of the campground, Kanda Macawi,” he remembered.