A Little Fairy Dust, page 36
A second roll of booming thunder sounded, this time closer. Haven jumped slightly and started walking faster. A glance over his shoulder showed towering, black storm clouds building ominously a few miles away. The wind was picking up, which meant the clouds would be moving swiftly overhead.
Haven absentmindedly fingered the white stripe of hair amid the rest of the black strands growing over his right eye as he tried to keep his breathing even so he didn’t pass out. He wasn’t afraid of thunder; rather he feared what the thunder gave voice to: the vibration of molecules caused by an electrical discharge. A lightning strike.
He’d been struck on a day almost exactly like this one. The thunderclouds had gathered in the distance, the wind quickly blowing them overhead. Haven had foolishly decided to make the dash across the quad from the building his classroom was in to his dorm. He had another final to study for and didn’t have the time to wait around for the storm to pass. He hadn’t made it.
When he woke up in the hospital, the doctors told him what had happened. Lightning had struck the classroom building just as he reached the foot of the stairs. Students said a metal flagpole sticking out of the building attracted the lightning. Haven had been hit with a side flash, a bit of electrical current that branched off from the main bolt. The doctor said he only suffered minor burns and showed him a photograph of his skull where a light feather pattern of broken capillaries was visible through slightly crispy hair. He probably wouldn’t have even passed out from the strike, the doctor marveled, if he wasn’t already overstressed and exhausted from finals.
It was a very minor strike—lightning could kill or cause permanent brain and organ damage, so Haven knew just how lucky he was—but that didn’t stop Haven from flinching every time thunder rumbled overhead.
The storm was coming faster now. Haven could taste rain in the air even though he couldn’t yet feel the drops on his skin. He probably only had mere minutes before the storm let loose over his head, and he would much prefer to be inside before that happened.
There were two options for getting home. The first was to stay on the sidewalk. He had two more blocks to go before he crossed the street and turned right. Then he had another two long blocks to walk to his house. The second option was to take the path just ahead. It led through the reservoir: a bit of undeveloped, low-lying land set aside by the town solely for the purpose of collecting excess rain in order to prevent floods and water damage to the nearby neighborhoods. The trees in the reservoir were still bare, their buds only beginning to show baby green leaves poking through, but the path was clear. Taking shelter underneath a tree during a storm was idiotic, but it would shave off minutes to his travel time, and the path ended across the street from his house.
When he reached the path, Haven took it. He was hustling as quickly as he could in slacks and shoes. Running was out of the question, but he could and did power walk. The path itself was winding, created to show off the most scenic parts of the forest and to stay on higher ground. Haven had to stay on the path to avoid the small rivers and lakes that filled the reservoir every spring. He clattered across an old wooden bridge, five feet long and the only way across the winter snowmelt that wouldn’t also soak his shoes.
The sky overhead was getting darker, and the first droplets of rain were penetrating the branches. It was getting harder to see the path clearly as the sunlight faded and the wind picked up even more. The old leaves still composting from last fall made slithering sounds as the wind blew them around. Haven thought he heard rain hissing against the leaves, too, like the loose pipe letting steam out of his hot water heater had done a few weeks back.
Haven’s foot caught on something suddenly, and he lurched, falling to the ground hard. He scrambled to his hands and knees, brushing leaves off his front as he stumbled back to his feet.
Haven had tripped right over a big rock in the middle of the path. Lightning flashed overhead, quickly followed by a boom of thunder. Haven let out an involuntary squeal of fright as he instinctively huddled low to the ground. He had to get home. Now.
He used the rock for leverage to get back to his feet a second time. It was warm under his hand and slightly textured. It didn’t feel like any rock Haven had ever held. He bent closer, and in the fading light, he could make out what looked like raised veins of gold crisscrossing the entire surface. It almost looked like a gigantic, minimalist Faberge egg.
Haven carefully picked it up, grunting slightly at the weight. It was about the size of a large melon and shaped like an egg, oval with one pointed end and one more rounded. It fit snugly into the curve of his elbow as he curled one arm around it. Maybe it was just an oddly colored rock, but it also looked like someone’s heirloom. Personally, Haven didn’t understand why someone would prize what amounted to a gigantic, albeit very fancy, egg. Still, there was probably a child getting a scolding right this moment for taking the Faberge egg out of the house and losing it. He could get a better look at it once he had stronger light and would call the police to find the owner.
Another boom of thunder made Haven jump. He fumbled the egg for a second before he got his fingers locked around it and took off at a jog. His toes cried out from the abuse his shoes were causing, but he didn’t care anymore. He probably only had seconds before the storm exploded over his head.
He reached the end of the path without tripping over anything else just as a light drizzle began to soak the ground. He dashed across the street and up the steps of his porch as another gigantic boom of thunder shook the ground and a downpour started. Haven got his keys out of his pocket and fought with the lock one-handed. He dashed inside, panting for breath and shaking, and slammed the door behind him.
He made sure the door was locked and hurried downstairs into the basement where there weren’t any windows and he could play loud music to drown out the sounds of the storm. He switched on the lights and music first, then grabbed a couple of the blankets he kept on a nearby cot. He made a quick nest for the egg, so it wouldn’t roll anywhere and get damaged, before taking off his shoes and tie and wrapping himself up into another blanket. He huddled in on himself and waited for the storm to pass.
*
The egg was a warm, albeit uncomfortable pillow. Haven didn’t know when he had fallen asleep or why he was curled around the egg, but it made for a stiff back and a bruised cheek.
He found the remote and lowered the volume on the music, then listened intently, hoping the storm was over but ready to flinch should he hear something. The blinking clock across the room told him that sometime while he was sleeping the house had lost and regained power. It was resolutely showing midnight on the screen, but a quick glance at the clock on his phone told Haven it was actually almost three in the morning.
After a few too-tense moments waiting and failing to hear an ominous rumble, Haven sighed in relief and turned the music off. He rolled his head side to side as he stood up, trying to work out the tension making his muscles ache. Haven walked two steps away from the cot, planning to head to his own bed, before he turned around to look at the egg still tucked into its nest of blankets.
It was gorgeous, black with jagged lines of gold shot throughout. It almost glowed in the low basement lights, although after Haven blinked a few times he thought the glow faded away. Haven felt ridiculous for feeling bad about leaving the egg behind. He couldn’t help laughing at himself for being silly, but he walked back to the bed and gathered the egg into his arms anyway.
Haven lived in a split-level ranch-style house that he could afford thanks to the bank and a recent raise. The basement door was in the lower level where his living room and guest bedroom were located. He walked up the three short steps into the small entryway by the front door. To the left was his small dining room and kitchen; to the right was the hallway that led to an office and the master bedroom. He walked down the hall to his bedroom in the dark. The sky outside the windows didn’t show any stars, so it must still be cloudy. He really hoped there wouldn’t be any more thunder that night.
The bedroom was mostly neat. He was a bachelor living on his own, so some mess was inevitable, but it was much cleaner than some of his single coworkers’ houses. Haven was able to navigate around the small piles of discarded clothes and find his unmade bed without mishap. He fell into the soft covers with a tired groan. It was too much work to get up again to change into pajamas or build a new nest for the egg. Besides, even though the egg was hard it was also warm and somewhat comforting. It was a very strange sort of security blanket to cling to, but Haven didn’t want to give it up.
He wriggled out of his dress pants and swiftly unbuttoned his shirt. Once he was left in only his boxers, he pulled a blanket over his head, curled around the egg, and fell quickly back to sleep.
*
It was Saturday. Haven’s alarm should be off. Gloriously, he had no plans, which meant he could sleep in and enjoy the day. Thunderstorms might be awful, but the day afterward was always gorgeous. Haven was looking forward to a leisurely breakfast on the back porch, maybe a nap under the warm spring sun, and a chance to walk around his small garden and see how things were budding. Unfortunately, he would have to enjoy all of that on his own. He had a beautiful house and a nice weekend morning, but no one to share it with.
Haven mentally snarled at himself to stop thinking like that. He was going to have a good morning, and sad thoughts like the fact that he hadn’t had a boyfriend in years weren’t allowed to interfere. Haven pulled his blanket up to his nose, intent on going back to sleep, but the damned alarm sounded again.
The alarm wasn’t set to go off on the weekends, but Haven still heard the buzzing and rustling, as if his phone was on vibrate and had gotten stuck underneath a heavy blanket when the alarm went off.
Haven peeled his eyes open with a groan, needing a few more hours of sleep after the late night but also needing to shut off that damned alarm so he could sleep in peace. Light was filtering in through his closed window shades. It made the gold in the egg he was still curled around sparkle slightly. There might be precious stones carefully hidden among the gold, which only made him feel odder about the fact that he was cuddling with a giant shiny rock.
The rustling sound continued, and Haven forced his body to roll over. He blinked in surprise for a few long moments when he saw his phone resting quietly on his nightstand. He rolled over again, toward the noise, and let out a shriek. There was a snake crawling through his blankets!
It looked like a garter snake, small and green with a red stripe down its back, except it also had horns jutting out from the top of its head. In response to Haven’s shriek, it lifted itself as high into the air as its small body would allow. Then it hissed, and what looked like a cobra’s hood flared behind it. Two fangs jutted out from the snake’s mouth, glistening and dripping.
Haven let out another screech and tumbled from his bed. The egg was knocked free in his scramble, and it landed in his lap as he hit the floor and crab walked backward to the door. The snake gently soared off the bed, landing on the carpet with a muffled thump. That wasn’t a hood on the back of the snake; it was a pair of wings! Did snakes have wings? Haven couldn’t think of any snakes that had them as he kept desperately shuffling away.
The snake appeared to be taking its time, weaving back and forth threateningly as it moved slowly closer, and hissing as if it were laughing at him. Haven left the bedroom and entered the hallway, his back impacting painfully with the wall. He didn’t dare turn his body to go down the hallway; if he took his eyes off the snake for even a second, Haven thought that might be his last second alive.
“Give me the egg!” a voice yelled. Haven’s eyes were still fixated on the snake; he didn’t have time to look at who was shouting. “The egg! Give me the egg!”
Haven fumbled for the egg resting in his lap, lifting it clumsily into the air and toward the insistent voice. The snake’s eyes glinted, and the hissing turned from stuttering laughter to a low and ominous threatening hiss. It lunged at Haven, mouth wide and teeth glistening.
The flash of lightning and the window-shaking boom of thunder echoed through the house. While the leaping snake had made him freeze in fear, the thunder had him screaming and curling into a ball around the egg still inexorably clutched in his arms.
It took a few long minutes of shaking and gasping for breath after the thunder before Haven felt safe enough to slowly uncurl. The egg was warm and buzzing faintly, almost as if it were sentient and trying to comfort Haven. He reflexively patted it in thanks, trying not to feel silly for thinking such odd things when the day so far had been beyond odd.
“The child likes you,” the voice said sharply, sounding surprised. “But then, you are lightning-kissed.”
Haven looked up. There was a burnt spot in his carpet just a few inches from his feet in a slightly serpentine shape. No other sign of the bizarre snake remained. A man was standing next to Haven, frowning at the burnt mark. He was wearing what looked like a cloak of feathers, tied around the neck with a heavy hood hanging down his back. His hair was long, the ends lost in the hood, and black. It looked like it had been streaked blond with bleach by a very inexperienced hair stylist; the streaks were jagged and uneven, some starting midway or ending nowhere near the end of his hair. His cheekbones were very prominent and his skin lightly tanned. He was absolutely gorgeous, Haven’s libido supplied eagerly. His smirk, as he quirked his lips upward when Haven continued to stare at him, was even and slightly haughty.
“The child?” Haven asked, scrambling to gather his fear-scattered wits. He was still sitting on the floor, and the stranger had broken into his house and somehow a flying snake had been zapped with lightning. Haven pushed to his feet, the egg still in his arms.
The stranger’s nod indicated the egg. “Zephyr and I were bringing the child to the hatching grounds when we were attacked. We lost the child briefly in the melee. Zephyr remained behind to battle while I started searching to the east. Zephyr was going to look in this direction, the west, but when I sensed the child here, I came to join him. Has Zephyr told you where to meet him?”
Haven gaped for a moment. “Who?” he asked, trying to get his thoughts in order in the face of such an odd story. “Who are you and who is Zephyr? What child?”
“You are holding the child, the egg that Zephyr gave to you to protect!” the stranger exclaimed, his scowl deepening as he spoke. “I am Dae, Zephyr’s partner!”
“I found the egg in the woods last night when I was trying to beat the thunderstorm home. No one else was around.”
“Zephyr wouldn’t abandon his most important charge!” Dae sounded incensed at the very thought. “What have you done to him?”
The cloak on Dae’s back fluttered as if a stiff wind were blowing through the hall. A rumble of thunder sounded, low, still far off in the distance, yet it was very clearly emanating from nearby. Haven automatically flinched as if lightning had flashed to cause the thunder. It hadn’t, but he couldn’t help the shiver of fear.
“Where is Zephyr?” Dae hissed. There was thunder in his voice and lightning in his eyes. Haven stared, transfixed, as flash after flash of lightning eerily lit his corneas and outlined his pupils. Dae’s eyes were gray, like a cloudy sky, yet they darkened like clouds filling with rain. Every bolt of lightning that flashed made them grow even darker.
When Haven couldn’t answer, Dae apparently took it as he wouldn’t. He reached out with one hand as more thunder rumbled down the hallway, and gripped Haven around the neck. The hand tingled, and then shot what felt like lightning into Haven’s body. Haven gurgled for breath. It felt like he had stuck his finger into an electrical socket and had gotten the cord of whatever he had been trying to plug in wrapped around his neck. He would have screamed if he had breath to do so.
“Where is Zephyr?” Dae repeated with a snarl. He loosened his hand enough that Haven could gulp down small breaths of air, but when Haven didn’t have an answer, he tightened his grip again.
It was too much for Haven: the fear making him shake, the electricity running through him, and the lack of air all combined. His head felt woozy and stars exploded behind his eyes. Darkness came slowly, and even Dae’s curse as his grip loosened couldn’t stop Haven from fainting.
*
Haven was flying. He could see trees soaring past far below him as well as the occasional fluffy cloud. The wind whistled in his ears as he rushed past. It was a decidedly odd sensation, and he wondered why he was having such a weird dream.
There was something clamped around his chest and stomach. If this were a dream, he’d wake up and find his blankets wrapped around his body. Haven looked and didn’t find blankets. Instead, he found claws. They were gigantic and scaled, like what he imagined a dragon’s would be like. There were talons on the end. He could feel their points poking against his side. Haven was still mostly naked, so it hurt a lot.
In the other claw, which was hanging to Haven’s right, was the egg. He twisted around to look up, but only saw a lot of huge black feathers rustling in the wind attached to the claw. A gigantic bird was carrying him!
Haven let his weight drop back into the claws, which made one of them prick harder into his side. It hurt like he was being pinched, which was supposed to wake someone up from a dream. The scene didn’t change though. Nothing changed. He was still being held in the air by a giant bird flying over a forest. He wasn’t dreaming!
Terrified, Haven let out a scream and thrashed in the talons holding him tight. He didn’t want the creature to let him go, because he would fall to a horrible death, but at the same time he couldn’t stand being held like this for much longer.
“Put me down!” Haven yelled helplessly. “Please, put me down!”
“We’re almost there,” Dae’s voice growled. “Stop squirming.” Dae wasn’t anywhere Haven could see, and yet he sounded close enough they could both have been held in the same scaled grip. It startled Haven into freezing for a moment, scared that he might knock a companion free to plummet to the ground below.
