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Previously in WORLDBREAKER:
There are more worlds than you know about. And the pathways in-between them and ours remain a mystery.
In Chicago, 12 year old Sean lies in a coma, a victim of a car accident. His father, David, watches over him. Outside the hospital, a fierce storm is blowing up, the likes which the city has never experienced before.
Moira, David’s ex-wife and Sean’s mother, is on her way from Hawaii.
There are strange things happening outside in the storm.
And...
Sean regains consciousness in a small enclosed cave deep inside a mountain. When a dwarf miner named Mig digs him out, Sean discovers he has awakened in the world of Shade, a place where it is night all the time.
Remembering nothing of his accident, Sean realizes he is lost and alone in a strange, dangerous world.
*****
Doorways.
Openings to new worlds and new friends.
Or old sins and deadly enemies.
Because, you see, doorways aren’t biased. Anyone can walk right through them.
A servant or king.
A healer or destroyer.
A hero or villain.
All cross the threshold, like a groom carrying his new bride.
All cross as equals, leaving their past behind them, stepping into the new future before them.
Do they change? Or are they the same?
Would you change?
Would you go into a new beginning as your same self?
Or someone new?
Someone grand?
Or something....
…..dark?
*****
Ten thousand strong was the size of Throm’s army. The united dwarf clans from the Fist to the White Plains joined the huge battalions of River Elves and human militia marching along behind the dwarven king.
Ten thousand.
Not enough.
Not nearly enough.
Throm gazed across the wide expanse. The Tower of Songs stood to the east of the battlefield, it’s white brick walls gleaming in the bright morning sunlight. He could hear the songs of the large white birds who lived there, echoing off the ramparts of the tall spire. The birds were as tall as a man and the songs they sang were beautiful. The radiant melodies were considered the essence of Sedaria and many made the pilgrimage to the tower to hear the wonders.
Above, the sun glowed intensely, hiding the two moons that flanked the beautiful orb. The Warrior’s Trio, so named by the forefathers of old, looked down upon the huge army, giving the coming battle their blessing.
Throm sat on his horse, surveying the tower and the land around it from a nearby hilltop. Behind him the army had come to a stop, their swords and spears clanging against their shields and armor. It was a heady contrast to the beautiful sounds coming from the tower.
The dwarf king grimaced. The sounds of war had no place in the fair land of Sedaria. He hated what he was doing now, despised himself for doing it. War had not graced these wondrous lands for some time, not since the days of Throm’s great-grandfather. And dwarves were known to live for quite a long time.
But now war was upon them. A reality in the form of the Dragonlord, the great defiler of Sedaria.
Throm turned to his second-in-command, Flint. “Get them into positions. They are approaching.” Flint nodded at his king and turned to the ranks forming behind him, barking orders at the flag-bearers who quickly sent signals all across the mass of soldiers. Throm watched the flags cutting quick swaths in the morning breeze. He turned to his two comrades seated on their horses next to him.
Fallon, the king of the River Elves, glowed in the early sunlight. He was about the same height as Throm, but looked dangerous dressed in his dark blue armor and holding the short spear the River Elves were known for.The elf’s green skin shimmered in the morning light. Fallon’s eyes glared steadily at Throm, and the dwarf found himself looking away from the solid white orbs.
Instead he looked at the giant man from Greendale, Braden the Nail. The burly human sat heavily on his horse, a large broadsword strapped to his back. Braden had brought all of his soldiers from the human settlement, and even though the dwarves and elves outnumbered them 4 to 1, the humans were renowned for their fighting prowess.
“It is a good day for a battle,” Braden scowled. “But I do not like the setting for this particular one.” He looked over at the white tower. “We are a little close for comfort, don’t you think?”
Fallon steadied his horse, his steely stare kept on Throm, but his strong voice directed at Braden. “No day is a good day for a battle, you brute. And we know the Dragonlord is coming here to destroy the tower and finally use his secret weapon. That’s why we are here, to meet him head on.”
“I may be a brute, but at least I’m not a weak, skinny water baby mewing for it’s mother, elf,” Braden retorted.
Fallon shook his head. “I pity how stupid men are. It must be heartbreaking trying to put your boots on your feet in the morning.”
Braden laughed and Throm found himself smiling too. Even in the face of certain death, the two old friends still managed to give each other fits.
There was a distant rumbling coming from the far side of the tower. Throm watched as a dark, thick mass moved across the opposite hillsides and slowly made its way towards his army.
The weary dwarf sighed.
Goblins. Nasty, vile things. And lots of them. He could not believe the sheer number that approached. The Dragonlord had emptied the miles and miles of catacombs that lay to the north, emptied them of their nasty minions and led them here with the promise of fresh meat for their spits. There had to be over twenty-thousand of the black creatures.
“They’re here,” he said to his compatriots.
“But where is the Dark One?” Fallon asked. “And where are the kites? And this weapon?”
“What is this weapon anyways?” Braden inquired. He unsheathed his large sword, the metal singing its own small tune as it left the scabbard. “I’ve got a powerful weapon right here.”
Throm nodded to Fallon. It was okay to let the human know. The time for tact was long past.
“Our spies say he has found a mighty stone, a stone of complete darkness that can suck the life away from a creature’s body. The Dark One has used it to conquer the goblin chiefs and cast the north under a spell of desolation.”
“Pah!” Braden spit. “Is that what we are afraid of? Big, mighty stones? Why, I have two of those in my...”
Throm raised his battle-ax in the air, interrupting the man’s ramble.
“Forward! Charge and engage!” It was that easy. He gave a simple command and the war had begun. He wanted to attack quickly and try to gain an advantage.
Braden galloped past the two kings and joined a group of his men running down the hill.
“Come, bitter little devils! Taste the sword of Braden the Nail!!!” he screamed at the dark mass approaching. The goblins, at the sight of the charging army, increased their own pace, eager to quell their painful hunger.
Fallon gripped his spear and turned to Throm. “I will see you at the end, fair king. Whatever that may be.”
“Good fighting, dear friend,” the dwarf answered. He watched as the elf rode down the hill and joined a band of his raiders, brandishing his spear and urging his own company on.
Throm brought his ax down to his lap and slowly eased his horse down the incline. Already in the valley below the united armies of Sedaria’s people crashed into the clawing, biting mass of goblins. Screams and shrieks filled the air as men and dwarves and elves fell to the ground. But Throm paid no attention to any of it. He was searching the sky. He was searching for the hellkites.
They came from behind the Tower of Songs, nine of the sacred dragons, spewing red flame and swooping down on Throm’s army. Terror filled the soldiers and dread stole into their hearts as dragon fire scorched the fields, consuming both armies.
Throm’s heart sank. This was his greatest fear. They could fight wave after wave of goblins and probably hold their own. But the dragons were too strong. Still, he had ways to buy his men some time. To do what with, he wasn’t sure.
He turned back to the hilltop and waved his hand.
“Archers! Ready!” Already Flint was giving the order to the flag-bearers who in turn signaled the best archers the king had at his disposal. Man and elf alike stood on the other side of the hills, pulling back their bowstrings and readying to release the stout arrows they had spent days making.
“Volley!” Throm yelled.
Flint barked.
Flags waved.
Arrows arced over the hilltops, darkening the sky. The dragons roared as the small sharp points hit and bounced off their hard scaly skin. The flying monsters arced higher into the sky, but Throm watched broken-hearted as they dived back to the earth, annoyed and angrier than before.
“Bring them, Flint! Bring everybody!” the dwarf king yelled. He raised his battle-ax high and prepared to join the fight. There was nothing he could do now. Only lead his people into battle like a true king would.
He raced the horse down the hillside and swung the ax, bringing it down on a goblin’s head. All around him the chaos of war reigned. Screams of pain merged with dancing flames and the clang of steel on steel. Throm’s eyes blurred but he caught sight of Fallon, the elf a whirlwind of violence cleaving through the goblin ranks. To his left, Throm saw Braden cutting through no less than five of the putrid things. When all of the black devils fell, the men surrounding the Nail screamed their battle cries, edged on by the fury of their leader.
A goblin ran at the dwarf king. It was solid black and even in the morning light, its eyes glowed a fiery red. It lunged at Throm with its bone sword and the king quickly parried the attack with his ax. He swung the ax around in a high arc and brought the goblin down.
A roar echoed from behind him and he watched as a dragon flew across their rear flank, lighting the fields behind them with hot flame. Throm glanced at the sky. The dragons had split into two ranks and were burning the outskirts of the battle, wrapping a great circle of fire around the two armies.
They are trying to trap us. He’s going to destroy everyone. Even his own army.
Throm leapt from his horse and began shouting orders to those around him. Dwarves and elves joined the mighty king and Throm set them in a long wall of swords and armor. He was going to try and break the goblins here. If his group could move forward, they could join Fallon and then Braden beyond and all move together.
The soldiers around him began yelling in terror and Throm watched as one of the hellkites flew overhead, spewing flames from its orange maw.
“Stab your eyes, you winged snake!” Throm cursed the dragon. He turned to his soldiers. “Get your shields up when they approach. Fire can’t burn through crawler skin. Now let’s move!”
They pushed forward, goblins parting and falling in their wake. A few more paces and his company would be joined with Fallon’s. They could start breaking this line and then deal with the dragons. Above the din of the battle, Throm could hear the songs of the tower reach a crescendo. There was still hope yet. This fight wasn’t over.
Or was it?
Suddenly, the sun was blocked out and the battlefield covered in darkness. Throm’s heart sank yet again.
The Dragonlord had finally arrived.
The tenth hellkite was the greatest one. Its size dwarfed the others. The kite’s wingspan alone covered the bloody field below. On its back sat the dark lord, black armor covering him from head to toe. A large onyx sword hung from his back, its length matching that of its owner.
Throm watched as the huge dragon crested over the battlefield. It banked and flew, not at the fighters below, but at the Tower of Songs.
“NOOOO!” Throm screamed as the large creature flew straight at the tower and sheared off the top of it. White rock exploded and fell to the base of the spire. The Dragonlord turned the hellkite and the large beast spewed flame into the broken column. Flames covered the walls of the keep and the singing that had floated across both armies turned to shrieks of pain.
The Tower of Songs fell into silence.
The tower burned, smoke drifted into the sky, and a cackling shriek broke the crisp air. The Dragonlord was laughing.
It’s done, Throm thought to himself. He turned and struck down two more charging goblins.
“RETREAT!” His call carried over the field and was quickly taken up by others. “Get out now!”
The Dragonlord rose up high into the air. Throm urged his men to get to the safety of the hills. He glanced up and saw the huge hellkite rise higher and higher, straight up into the sky, as if grasping for the Warrior’s Trio overhead. The figure on its back threw one hand into the air. Throm saw the defiler’s weapon, a large black orb grasped in his fingers, being raised to the sun.
The rest of the hellkites attacked the armies, burning everything in sight. Braden the Nail raised his large shield but he and his men were engulfed in the flame. Fallon broke the edge of the battle with a small group of soldiers and raced for safety. The ground was littered with elf, dwarf, man and goblin.
Throm watched helplessly as the onyx orb was thrust higher into the bright sky. And then something odd began to happen. The orb seemed to expand out from itself and blanket the blue sky, casting the world below in darkness. The only light came from the fiery infernos created by the attacking dragons as the sun above, whose rays tried to pierce the thick blackness between it and Sedaria, failed.
The sunlight dimmed and grew weak and then disappeared into the black expanse. As Throm watched the remnants of sunlight die, he felt tears flow down his cheeks. He watched the great star cease its light and disappear. Then he watched the glowing red eyes of the Dragonlord’s kite as it dived straight for him.
The sun over Sedaria had died.
Only night was left.
And the new world of Shade had begun.
*****
Sean looked from the cliff towards where the Tower of Silence lay. He could make out nothing across Shade’s black horizon. He turned back to Gregor. The tall dwarf was leaning against the doorway, backlit with torchlight.
“Who was this Dragonlord?” Sean asked.
The large dwarf stepped out onto the ledge and pulled a magnificent pipe out from under his vest. The pipe was about two feet long and looked to be made out of ivory. It was covered in small intricate carvings. He began to pack it with a sweet smelling tobacco. The story had taken a while to share and Gregor was beginning to feel the effects of not sleeping for a few days. But as supervisor of the mining facilities in the great mountain known as the Fist, he was used to it. He could go a week with no sleep and still oversee the important tasks deep in the heart of the mountain.
“No one really knows where the Dragonlord came from. Some say he appeared from across the great seas in the north, came to the land of the Hellkites and somehow managed to become their king. Others think he is a possessed River Elf who became twisted by some devilry found in the foothills around the Spike. I’ve heard a few talk about a mysterious gate somewhere in the secret valleys of Shade, that leads into the deep inferno called Pithos, where the goblins were born. They say the Dragonlord ruled Pithos and came to Sedaria to expand his empire.” Gregor lit his pipe and took a great puff. White smoke filled the night air and Sean found he enjoyed the smell of the burning tobacco.
“And Throm, he died there on the battlefield?” Sean looked up into the starry sky, trying to imagine it filled with dragons.
“Aye,” Gregor answered. “The hellkite swallowed him whole.” He paused a minute and shuffled his feet. “He was my great-great-great grandfather. One of the greatest kings who ever ruled in Sedaria.”
Sean did not say anything. He was tired. The rest he had taken earlier in Gregor’s quarters had not been enough. The boss dwarf had awakened him during the start of the first work shift. It was the equivalent of early morning but Sean had no clue if it was really morning. All measure of time was lost when it was dark around the clock.
He thought hard about what Gregor had told him before he finally spoke.
“Where is the Dragonlord now?” he asked.
Gregor shook his head. “No one knows. After the sun went out, he disappeared back over the northern mountains. He has not been seen since. But his influence is felt everywhere. As Sedaria twisted into Shade, treaties fell apart, new creatures came out from the catacombs and mountains, and the people....the people began to grow numb and lose hope.”
“You said there are humans in this world? In that town called Greendale?”
Gregor nodded.
“I think I should go there. Maybe my parents are there. Maybe somehow they came here too and are looking for me.” Sean’s excitement began to grow.
“I agree. That would be the best place for you to go. The ways of humans are...different from the dwarves. But we do have a barter relationship with them. So you could travel there.” Gregor sucked on his pipe once again. “But it is not that easy to just march to Greendale. It is five days journey to the bottom of the mountain. And that trip is completely in the dark of the Fist. Then another fortnight to the outside borders of Greendale. You would have to pass through our home, the Guild Stair, and the council would not take kindly to letting a human wander through our lands.”
Sean’s face dropped. But then Gregor stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“But...I will get you there. I have already assigned you an escort. Mig and his cousin, Wit, will take you through the tunnels to the bottom of the mountain. And then take you to the council. I have already sent a messenger falcon informing them of your unique situation. They want to meet with you before you head to Greendale.”
Sean beamed at his new friend. “Thank you so much. How can I repay you, sir?”
Gregor waved this away with his meaty hand. “Truthfully, Mig had already volunteered for the task.” He stopped and pointed a finger at the boy. “But I warn you. It will be a dangerous journey. Even though we dwarfs are adept at taming a mountain, the Fist is full of tricks and turns. You must follow Mig’s lead always, even beyond the mountain. One false step and you will end your life here in Shade.”
Sean let this soak in as he followed the dwarf back into his quarters.
In the night sky, the two moons flanked the gray blank space that used to be Sedaria’s sun.
Now it served as Shade’s birthmark.
*****
David watched the violent storm. It had grown in strength tremendously over the course of the past few hours. The bugs had disappeared a long time ago, carried away by the gale force winds. The only sign that they had been there were the dirt-flecked spit marks they had made on the thick glass.
He sat next to Sean, holding his son’s hand and slowly stroking the cold palm. Sean’s chest rose and fell as he inhaled and exhaled each breath. David squeezed the little hand and leaned in closer.
“Can you hear me?” he whispered. “Sean, it’s daddy. Can you hear me, son? Squeeze my fingers if you can hear me.”
Nothing happened. The small hand lay in David’s own, unmoving. He fought back the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes.
There was a small knock on the door and David quickly composed himself. It was the day shift nurse, Megan. She was young, as many of the nurses seemed to be on the floor. She smiled at David and went to work checking Sean’s vitals.
“This storm is amazing, isn’t it?” she said. Her voice was soft and she smiled at David as she gently lifted Sean’s arm to place the blood pressure cuff around it. “I grew up in Oklahoma, right in the middle of tornado alley. But I’ve never seen anything like this.”
David nodded. “I haven’t either. My ex-wife, Moira, is on her way here but I’m wondering if she is going to be able to get in now.”
“I know they were closing down O’ Hare sometime today,” Megan said as she finished recording Sean’s vitals in the computer. “If she’s coming through there, it may be awhile before she can get out.”
David pondered this and a sigh escaped his lips. Megan finished her work and then came over to the worried father, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Have you slept at all?” she asked.
David remembered dozing a bit during the past few hours, but none of it proved restful in the least. He shook his head no.
“Why don’t you go downstairs? Get a cup of coffee or something to eat. I’ll sit with Sean while you are gone,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It may be a long time before your wife can get here to give you a break. I have some time before I have to check my other patients. Go. He’ll be fine.”
David got up and took a long look at Sean and then walked outside the room. He eased down to the elevators and hit the call button. As he waited for the elevator, his mind whirled with thoughts of Sean, the accident, and finally the strange bugs from earlier. What were they exactly? DId the storm carry them here from the mountains?
The elevator came and David got on. It was empty and did not stop until it reached the bottom floor. He exited and headed for the cafeteria.
The storm had kept many of the visitors and extra staff from coming to the hospital and the cafeteria was empty except for a handful of people eating an early lunch. He glanced at the clock. Close to noon. Moira should be arriving at the airport soon.
He went to the small coffee kiosk and ordered a cup of dark roast. After paying, David walked over to the large, wall length windows that ran along one whole wall. Any other day the windows would have filtered daylight in, giving the dining room a comfortable aura. But with the storm raging outside, the large room was darker than usual. A few of the hospital workers were standing near the glass, watching the chaos outside.
Wind doubled over small trees and rain buffeted the side of the building. Occasionally, bright talons of lightning lit the interior of the dining room.
“Crazy stuff. Whoever heard of a storm like this so far inland?” an orderly said. His friend shook his head in agreement. David turned back to the storm, watching water run down the glass.
A huge roar shook the windows and David could feel the building vibrate under his feet.
“Oh my God! That’s the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard!” the orderly exclaimed.
But David did not hear him. He was already running for the elevator.
He had glimpsed the glowing red eyes, floating in the darkness of the storm, and the large shadow they belonged to blocking out the flashing lightning.
“There’s something out there!” he yelled at a security guard standing near the elevators. The guard glanced at him, puzzlement showing across his face.
“What are you talk....?” He was cut off in mid-sentence as another roar thundered from the cafeteria, followed by screams and loud yells. The guard pulled his gun and headed towards the sounds.
David watched him go before frantically pushing the call button for the elevator. His only thought was getting to Sean and making sure he was safe.
Whatever was out there was huge.
*****
Moira had made it from Seattle to Chicago before noon. The storm had pelted the large airliner as it banked for landing at O’Hare. There was a stomach churning moment when she wondered if they were actually going to make it. The turbulence was amazing and several of the other passengers shared Moira’s worries.
But they did land and were greeted with chaos inside the large airport. Delays and cancelled flights had filled the building with disgruntled, tired travelers. There were people sleeping in the walkways, leaning against the walls, trying to find some comfort in the overcrowded terminal.
She fought her way through the crowd and grabbed her luggage from baggage claim. She had brought her large carry-on and a rolling suitcase. After David called, she had packed quickly, flinging everything into the small bags and running out the door.
Moira caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored glass that covered one wall of the terminal. She looked haggard, her long blonde hair unbrushed, and large dark circles hanging below her eyes. But she was here, here for Sean, and that was all that mattered. She tried calling David again on her cell phone but was met with the annoying tone that said service was down for now. The storm had managed to knock that out too.
She pulled the suitcase to the front entrance of the airport. Here the crowd of people was the thickest as everyone was trying to escape the chaos of the airport. Taxis came and went and Moira heard several people arguing about who was first in line. She ignored all of these and pushed her way to the very end of the facade. Here there was some relief from the mass of people and she could figure out what to do. She took a deep breath and studied her surroundings.
I have to find a way to the hospital. She knew getting a taxi was not going to happen anytime soon and she couldn’t afford to wait. She needed to get to Sean as soon as possible.
There was a side door near where she was standing and she watched as a couple of airport employees exited and walked around the facade, heading for the parking lot. Desperate, she grabbed her suitcase and rolled over to the door.
A man came out next. He looked like he worked in one of the food court restaurants. Moira hurried up to him.
“Please, sir, can you help...” The man skirted around her and hurried down the sidewalk.
Moira frowned at the man’s back. He hadn’t even looked at her.
She went back to the door and waited patiently. It opened and a young woman stepped out. She wore a shirt that said “Valentine Books.” Moira recognized it as one of the small bookstores that was inside. The woman glanced at Moira and nodded.
“Excuse me,” Moira said. The young woman stopped and turned to her.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“Yes, please, I need to get to the hospital. My son was in a terrible accident. I was wondering if you could give me a ride?” Moira blurted all of this out quickly, not wanting the woman to walk away.
“I’m heading home. It’s the opposite direction from the hospital. I’m sorry but...”
Moira stopped her. “Please. I will pay you. Two hundred dollars cash. Half up front. Just to drive me there.”
The woman looked at Moira curiously, chewing her lip.
“Please. My son is in a coma. He’s just a little boy,” Moira pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion.
The woman nodded. “The hospital is not far from here. I’ll take you. But we have to hurry. I hear they are closing some of the main streets around the city because of flooding.”
Moira nodded and grabbed the woman in a fierce hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She went to reach into her purse for the money but the woman stopped her.
“You can pay me when we get there, okay?” She grabbed Moira’s rolling case. “Come on. Let’s get you to your son.”
Moira followed her into the storm.
*****
Wit was the complete opposite of Mig. Where Mig was older and serious, Wit was a young dwarf full of spirit, and full of himself.
“Yes, pup, this may be the grandest trip yet. We could hit the Falling Green and fish for summer trout. Or head to the Honey Carnival and try our hand at dice,” Wit exclaimed. “I’ve got quite a reputation throwing the dice.” He winked at Sean as the boy followed the dwarves through the mining tunnels.
“Would you shut your yap?” Mig hollered from the front of the small group. “You’ve been yammering ever since we left Gregor’s, eh? We are not going to have time for fun and games. This is a serious trip we are undertaking.”
Wit winked again at Sean.
“Oh yes, uncle, a serious trip. Quite serious it will all be. I’ll be serious. And the human pup will be serious. But you, uncle, you will be the mostest serious!” he sang as they shuffled through the busy work crews.
Sean smiled at the energetic dwarf.
“We’re all soooooooo serious!”
“Shut up!”
They continued to walk past the crews, and Sean watched as dwarves broke down the mountain’s rock with the steady crack of their picks. None of the work crews gave them any notice, too focused on finding the precious stones that were needed. As they walked, the crews got smaller and smaller until there was no one else in the tunnel besides the three travelers.
Each of them carried a small rucksack laden with food and supplies. Mig and Wit each carried small sharp swords and Mig had two small smooth stones that hung around his neck.
“What are those?” Sean had asked him earlier.
“Eh! This is what we mostly mine for. Firestones. Besides the rare gems we find, Firestone is one of the most valuable items in Shade. Men pay handsomely for the ability to make fire. To make light. Even the elves will go out of their way to own some, eh?” Mig explained.
The tunnel they were walking in began to slope downward and Sean realized that they were now starting their descent to the bottom of The Fist. Mig stopped and waved him closer. Wit slapped him on the back as he went by.
“Probably not walking serious enough,” he whispered to Sean.
Sean stood next to Mig and looked down the tunnel before them. It was completely dark and suddenly seemed very small.
“Eh? Do you see how dark it is, pup?” Mig asked.
Sean nodded, transfixed on the black tunnel.
“It is like this the whole trip. Until we reach the Beginning Door. Total darkness,” he said. He brought out a small torch and pulled the firestones from around his neck. Sean watched as Mig struck the two stones together. Small sparks ignited from the rocks and soon the torch was lit with bright orange fire. He blinked his eyes, trying to get accustomed to the new light.
“This will be our only light. The torches we carry,” he looked at Sean. The boy nodded again, understanding. Mig lit two more torches for his nephew and Sean and handed them over.
“We are not alone in this mountain. There are other things that call this home, eh? Dangerous things. Stay close. Keep the torch lit. And watch out for the creatures.” With this last proclamation, Mig turned and began marching down the tunnel. Wit followed but Sean grabbed the younger dwarf’s arm and stopped him.
“What kind of creatures?” he asked.
Wit smiled and waggled his fingers at Sean.
“Serious creatures.” Wit turned into the tunnel, following his uncle, and Sean watched as their torches danced together in the darkness of the mountain. The torches were the only thing he could make out in the tunnel.
He ran to follow them before the light disappeared into the darkness.
*****
Flight 213 was inbound to O’Hare from Boston International. It banked right at 25,000 feet and began to make its descent to begin final approach into Chicago.
Captain Miller eased the large airliner through the storm, but the turbulence was unrelenting. The plane bounced and jostled in the heavy winds and it took everything for Miller to keep the controls steady.
He grimaced as the plane dropped hard. His passengers were getting a rough ride tonight and undoubtedly were cursing the captain even as he worked to keep it as smooth as possible. He turned to his co-pilot, Sweeney.
“This is the worst one I’ve ever been in.”
Sweeney nodded, the young man gritting his teeth as the plane took another bounce.
Miller checked their altitude and gripped the wheel tighter.
“American 213 come to 18,000 feet and maintain please.” The voice was weak through the static over the headphones but Miller was able to make out the directions.
“Maintain?! I don’t want to maintain. I want to get out of the sky, you moron.” He could see Sweeney smiling at this and that made the older pilot chuckle too. Air traffic controllers were pretty oblivious to how things were in the planes above them, much to the chagrin of the pilots.
A huge tremor suddenly shook the plane and Miller could hear his co-pilot gasp in the seat next to him.
“Engine 2 is gone! We just lost engine 2!” Miller glanced out his right side and barely made out the small blaze of flame burning under the wing. He was already making the calculations in his head on how fast they could get to the ground on the remaining three. He turned back to the front just as a huge bolt of lightning broke the heavy clouds and rain in front of Flight 213.
Something huge blocked out the sky in front of the plane.
“213 to control! 213 to control! We’ve lost an engine!” Sweeney cried desperately into the radio.
“Control to 213. Repeat! I say repeat that please.” The garbled voice responded.
Miller heard all of this but the only reply he could make before the front of the plane exploded into a huge fireball was:
“That’s a frickin’ dragon!”
Stay tuned for Episode 3
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