The Fallen Prince Part 15

"Kera!"

I spring into motion, push past my grandparents, and race down the hall.

"Dylan! Stop!" Grandpa shouts. "We don't know what we're up against."

I ignore him. He'll understand. There isn't time. I have to find Kera before she gets hurt.

Pounding Hearts.

I slam through the back door and trip down the stairs, yelling Kera's name. The yard stands quiet and empty. The only sound comes from the back gate thumping in the evening breeze.

I vault over a pile of lumber and jig around the old motorcycle Grandpa's fixing up in his spare time. Busting through the gate, I come to a bone-jarring halt and snap my head to each side, searching the dirt path that runs behind the house. My whole body feels like a spring, ready to uncoil. Where is she?

"Kera!" My call bellows sharply into the lengthening shadows.

Another screech ripples on the air. Not a human sound-it's too deep, too strong. It rumbles in my chest, rattling my ribs. The ground shakes-dirt rises, pebbles jump-as if a herd of elephants is charging my way. I take a few steps toward the road and jump back as Leo tears around the corner of the fence.

Eyes wide, he pumps his arms and spins his long, skinny legs in the fastest dash I've ever seen. As he rockets past, he yells, "Run!"

I peer down the road and see Kera speeding my way, zigging this way and that, calling down thick branches as she pa.s.ses. Behind her, a ma.s.sive beast pounds the ground, easily snapping through the tree limbs. Its angular head bobs under a three-horned crest rising from a ruff of feathers. Little spikes poke down the bridge of its snout, which ends in a wickedly curved beak. Its front legs splay into sharp bird talons; its powerful back legs end in alligator claws that rip into the ground. The heavy tail whips back and forth.

The beast gets so close to Kera its breath stirs her hair. Its thickly breasted chest rises and a pair of huge feathered wings snap wide. Its front talons reach toward Kera.

I don't think. I don't plan. I dart forward, s.n.a.t.c.h her arm, and spin her away just as the beast grabs for her. With our hands firmly clasped, I haul her at breakneck speed in the opposite direction and rapid-fire a series of fireb.a.l.l.s behind us. If I hit the beast, the scorching heat didn't faze it.

The wingtips sweep back. Strong feet pound the ground as it adjusts direction. I tug on Kera's hand and make for the woods, but she resists. "That's where it came from," she pants.

We head for the barn and dart inside. Slamming the door closed, I call on a thick carpet of entangled roots to grow up and around it, fusing the door to the ground. "This isn't a good hiding place," I say, but Kera's already heading up the ladder to the hayloft.

"It's after me. Only me."

"How do you know that?" Just in case she's right, I grab an old chamois lying over a stall railing, rub it up and down her arms and push it into a pile of hay near one of the far stalls before following her ascent. If we're really lucky, whatever that thing is will get distracted by the scent and give us time to plan our escape.

"It chose me over Leo."

"I'd choose you over Leo."

"I'm serious." Her voice breaks on a thread of pure fear.

"Okay, okay." My attempt at trying to calm her isn't appreciated, so I ask the obvious question as I place a hand on her b.u.t.tock and force her higher. "What is that thing?"

"A monster."

A ma.s.sive b.u.mp to the door startles a yelp out of Kera. She freezes as claws sc.r.a.pe against the wood and roots.

"No kidding? Where'd it come from?"

"The woods."

I give her another nudge. "I think we would've known something like that was living in our backyard before now."

"It's from Teag-a winged tri-top, but I don't understand how that can be."

"Why?"

"They are tiny creatures," she huffs as she scampers the rest of the way up the ladder, "that live in the trees."

I saw one the first time I went to Teag. It was a tiny bird-lizard thingy that scampered along the tree limbs. "Well, it's not tiny anymore. It looks like something out of a Tim Burton version of Jura.s.sic Park."

I vault into the loft barely in time. With a heavy thud, the overgrown winged tri-top crashes through the door. Wood explodes into the barn and the structure groans as if it's been knocked off its footing. Kera and I lie low. My heartbeat throbs painfully in my neck. I calm my breathing, but it's not easy. I'm not used to being hunted by a huge bird-lizard. The beast snuffles and follows its sense of smell to the pile of hay where I hid the chamois.

Seeing it tear into the hay gives Kera's theory credence. We scooch back on our bellies, and when we're far enough away, I pull Kera toward the open hay door, where a knotted rope swings from its mooring beneath the eaves and extends to the ground far below us. I lift her onto the rope and whisper, "When you reach the bottom, head for the woods."

"You don't understand. No place is safe. Someone from my realm has sent it on a hunt. For me."

"Just do as I say, okay?"

Braving her frustrated glance, I give her a hard kiss. Pulling away, I touch her flushed cheek. "Please."

She nods and starts the slide down. I lean out, my torso dangling precariously at an awkward angle as I steady the rope.

A rush of goose b.u.mps sweeps my arms, and instinct has me glancing over my shoulder. Leaning back inside, the sound of the rope's bottom knot slapping the side of the barn fills my ears...and nothing else. The beast is quiet. I can almost imagine it tilting its head, listening to Kera's rhythmic descent. What if it leaves and finds Kera outside? I have to do something.

Spying a pitchfork, I s.n.a.t.c.h it up and dart over to the edge of the loft. My sudden stop causes loose hay to fly into the air, and I peer through the pale green stems floating downward. It's what I feared. That thing's head tilts, c.o.c.king its tuffed ear to the sound. I fix my aim and hurl the heavy tines at the animal's heaving side. Little good it does. The metal bars ping off the scaly body and its spiky head snaps up. Its beady eyes latch on to me. I guess I've accomplished my goal. It's no longer intent on the noise Kera's making.

"That's right. I'm up here, you ugly hybrid."

The beast's sides puff up and it lets out a bellow. A stable of barn owls hoot and flap their wings high above in the rafters. I back away. Kera had better be on the ground and running.

As I back from the edge, the ladder shakes and I hear the wooden slats break. The scratch and smash of the beast trying to climb up the ladder is joined by another bone-jarring cry. My eardrums pop, and I turn to look back out the hay door.

The rope swings freely, but Kera just stands there on the ground. I hiss at her to start moving, but she doesn't hear me. She isn't scared-I would feel it if she were. She's up to something, and that usually means trouble.

I jump on the rope, and in no time, slither to the ground. Kera's wide-eyed gaze snares mine; she's a porcelain statue, perfectly formed and fragile. Frightening growls and the sound of wood ripping apart shake the ground. The noise snaps her out of her trance. She stares wildly at the barn, an expectation that she'll be captured any moment settling on her face. She believes the beast is after her, and from what I've seen, I agree, but she can't give up.

I don't fall into the hypnotic fear that's clawing up my spine. Instead, I grab her hand and pull her after me. We take off down the dirt road that lies between the ranch and the forest. When we're far enough away, I turn and throw fire at the barn. The old, dry wood soaks up the flames that grow hot and high. I can feel the heat where I stand. Nothing can live through that.

I'm totally wrong. The beast walks out of the flames, shaking the sparks off its feathers and body like water. The head twists from side to side, scanning the area for its prey.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," Kera chants in disbelief even as I pull her along behind me.

I scramble for a plan, but everything I think of has inherent flaws.

The sound of the barn caving in crashes behind us. I feel Kera hesitate. "Don't look back!" I yell.

The ground quakes with the force of the beast's pursuit. Our feet stumble. Kera falls. I tug her upright and force her to move.

"It's not going to stop." Her tone holds a note of inevitability.

"It will." My promise is meaningless, and we both know it. "I've got to think."

Kera yanks her fingers out of mine and backs away.

Each step hammers painfully against my heart. The beast is tearing up the road behind her, growing larger and larger as it nears. Its eyes lock on to Kera. Muscles expand. Contract. It rushes toward her like a runaway bull. Kera continues to back up, her face calm, yet her body quivers with fear.

"No!" The word is ripped from my heart.

I call on my powers and concentrate on a patch of dirt road. The earth rumbles, and a chasm splits the ground between Kera and the beast. With hands glowing, I wait for the big, ugly lizard to tumble into the jagged rift so I can bury it.

Wings snap out, and the beast begins to rise; its armored chest frames the background behind Kera's body. She extends her arms as the beating of its wings snaps her hair forward and molds her shirt against her back in the sudden gust. "There's only one way it will leave."

The monstrous thing soars over my trap. I uselessly hold out my hand. "Kera!"

Her eyes pierce mine. How can she think sacrificing herself to save the rest of us is a good idea? My hand glows and a tree rips out of the ground and slams into the beast. Wood splinters everywhere. I do it again and again with the same results. It barely slows the thing down.

I can't stop what's about to happen even if I want to, and that realization twists my gut. Just before the talons encase her upper arms, her plea is carried to me on the dirt-laden wind. "Let me go."

She's suddenly jerked into the air. The beast bellows its triumph, shaking the leaves from the surrounding trees as it wheels about and carries Kera off toward Teag.

Let her go? She knows I can't. Just the thought rips into my heart. I need to follow her, but the first in me rises in a familiar, dangerous way. I know what's coming, what I'm about to let loose. I fall to my knees, struggling with the power that's building within me. I can't use it. It's too new. Too raw. I could easily kill not only the bird, but Kera.

My skin burns brighter. The power wells up hotter and faster. Last time I felt like this, every living thing within a mile radius got burned to a crisp because of me. I slam my fists against the ground, cracking it open as I plunge my hands elbow-deep into the soil. My breathing shreds my lungs as I try to control my power. It's no use. The first in me bursts to the surface. Kera is mine. No one has the right to steal her from me.

I direct all that anger and energy into the earth. The dark magic that's in me slithers over the ground, poisoning everything it touches as it races off the dirt road toward the forest.

Gra.s.s turns brittle brown. Nearby, trees turn an ugly ash gray. My power kills everything it touches. Even the bugs deep in the soil sense my invasion. Those that make it to the surface sizzle and blacken.

The gate to our backyard swings open. Grandpa steps out. "Dylan!" his call rumbles with concern.

The poison rushes on. Radiating in an ever-widening circle. "Get back!" I growl. There's no sign of myself in the voice that explodes from me.

As Grandpa hesitates, Grandma appears and moves closer. "Dylan?"

"No!" I call. Misery slips into my voice. "No. Please."

I can't let them die. I won't be the cause of more death. I struggle for control, grit my teeth, and will the power to obey me...and it does.

The magic in me surges one last time and disappears. Exhausted from the fight, I rip my hands from the earth and collapse onto my back, holding my hands out, seeing the white-hot vapor pulse, then fade.

Kera's gone.

A hole has been punched through my heart, and I can't take a deep enough breath. I can't speak. I can only shake, as if I'm coming off a meth high, and I stare at the darkening sky.

Grandma and Grandpa rush to me, their footsteps crunching against the newly burned ground.

Reggie appears, breathless and sweaty. "Did you see that thing? It took the girl. I would've shot it down, but I was afraid I'd hit her."

"We saw. You did right," Grandpa says. Grandma whispers to Grandpa, wondering what's happened to me. Grandpa doesn't say. He bends over me, his face a mixture of shock and anger. "Get up."

The command is clear, but I can't. I'm all flesh. No bones. Without Kera, I feel all gray. Completely colorless. Joyless.

And then there's the after-burn of my powers. I can't stop shivering.

Grandpa squats and pulls me upright. I struggle to be free, yelling Kera's name over and over as he hefts me over his shoulder. He squeezes my legs to still me and mutters, "d.a.m.n your hide, boy. I'm getting too old for this."

"He's burning up." Grandma slips her hand over my heated skin and cups my cheek. "It looks like he's sunburned."

They carry me toward the house, their concern a comfort I need but can't seem to take.

Leo appears at the gate and holds it open for them. He surveys what I've done. "Not again."

"He's done this before?" Grandma asks, her voice rough, as if she's been yelling over a thousand other voices.

"He's done worse," Leo admits.

Grandma stifles her distress against her fingers. The sin that I wanted to keep secret is finally out. I begin to mumble. "People are dead...killed...by me. I'm sorry. The first in me...it's not good...evil. I can't control it. I thought I could, but I can't."

Leo briefly places his hand on top of my head. "You did good, bro. Everyone is still alive."

"Kera's gone." I'm drowning in my own guilt. "I failed."

"Giving up is failing," Grandpa says as he takes the stairs two at a time. "We're not giving up. We'll find her." Using his foot, he nudges and then shoulders his way around the kitchen door. Bodog's moan of despair reaches my ears, yet he bolts out. No one bothers calling him back, mostly because we know he won't go far.

Slumped over Grandpa's shoulder, I'm easily dumped on the couch, and a cool, wet cloth is slapped on my forehead. I meet everyone's stare. Everyone except Reggie. His interest lies more on what's outside. Every time our eyes meet, they reflect the horror of what he's seen. He'd like it if I disappeared and left them all alone. Who could blame him? Pop, Reggie's dad and Leo's grandfather, is dead because of me. So much bad has happened, I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror.

The room is silent. Everyone stares at me, waiting for I don't know what. Grandma flips the cloth on my forehead. Minutes pa.s.s. My mind clears. I'm oddly calm. I fought the craziness that's in me and won. I now have a purpose and a confidence I've never had before. I know exactly what I need to do. I tug the cloth off and ease myself into a sitting position. "I nearly killed all of you and for that I'm sorry. I'm a real keeper, aren't I?"

"Well...," Reggie drawls softly.

Leo slants his dad a warning, then puts on a cheesy smile and directs it at me. "No worries, bro. We needed to clear a few trees around there anyway. You actually helped us, right Dad?"

Reggie shrugs and turns away. "Sure." He lifts the corner of the shade and peeks outside. Tension oozes from his every move. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't want to get caught with my pants down again. If that thing comes back, I have every intention of blasting it out of the sky."

Grandpa nods. "Okay. Reggie and I will go get the guns. The rest of you stay put. When we get back, we'll figure out what to do about Kera."

The look he gives me before he leaves says it all. I've been relegated to the group of women and children. Stay put. Don't move. In other words, I've done enough damage.

Grandpa fails to understand this is my fight. I've made mistakes. My powers are unpredictable at best, but I'm the one who's got to solve this mess. Not him. Not Reggie. Not anyone. Just me.

On their way out, Grandpa and Reggie pa.s.s Wyatt coming up the porch steps.

I stand, though Grandma fusses at me not to, and my gaze settles on Leo. "Where's Bodog?"