SIREN
Chapter One
The Dark One is coming… The Dark One is coming… The Dark One is coming…
A black figure slowly approached the boy who stood there, shaking in
nervous fear, too scared to run. The figure was blacker than a shadow at
night, but shone with a halo of golden light. It beckoned, and he walked
forward as if his feet had minds of their own. He began to run toward the
figure, an image of star-filled green eyes the color of deep forest filling
his mind. His fear mounted even as he longed to reach this strange one.
All the while, a strange voice kept crying out the…message? warning?
The Dark One is coming… The Dark One is coming… The Dark One is coming…
Jeremy Jason McCole sat up in bed, shaking. The details of the dream
still lingered in his mind. He shivered with fear and longing at the
memory of the dark figure that drew him even as it struck fear in his
heart. He was sure that this apparition was female.
He glanced at his clock…and winced. Not even four-thirty. He lay back
and tried to sleep just a little longer….
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!
Jeremy groaned as he shut off the alarm, then buried his face in his
pillow. He hoped that he could get just a few more minutes…BANG-BANG-BANG!
No such luck.
"What?" he mumbled into his pillow. The door opened.
"Telephone," his mother said. He held up one hand for it.
"Hello?" he said, his face still buried in the pillow.
"Hey, lazy-boy! Where are you?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. The question is where are you not at. You were supposed to
be here now! Remember? Mall?" Jeremy sat up abruptly and banged his head
on the lamp.
"Ow! Dang! I'll be there in five minutes!"
"You better be. Later! CLICK"
Jeremy leapt out of bed, tossing the phone on the bed. He pulled on
jeans, T-shirt, button-up shirt, socks, and sneakers, and made record time
down the stairs and out the door. Hopping into the car, he drove away.
Good morning, world, he thought.
At the mall, he hooked up with his friends. They started roaming around,
with Jeremy keeping a low profile. Still, a bunch of girls immediately ran
up to beg for autographs. He went ahead and signed them, but his mind
wasn't on his fans. He was remembering his dream.
Something made him turn his head behind him. There! Right behind him was
another girl. She looked preoccupied, as if she was just following behind
some boys that were in her way. She barely gave him a glance. She frowned
and moved to one side of the group and walked quickly by them, heading into
a nearby bookstore. Through the window, he could see her go to the counter
and speak with the cashier. She glanced toward him and he quickly walked on.
His friends stared at him. "What?"
"Who was that?" Michael asked. "That girl?"
"I don't know," Jeremy said, confused. "As far as I know, I've never seen
her before." Trey and Aaron stared at him.
"You were acting like you'd seen an old friend!" Trey said.
"Or an old enemy," Aaron added, frowning. "Anyway, she's coming out now.
Shall we ambush her?"
Jeremy glanced back to the bookstore. Sure enough, this strange girl was
coming out, a brown paper bag under one arm. He took a moment to note her
appearance.
She was dressed in black with brightly colored scarves. The front part of
her hair was braided with feathers and painted wooden beads. The rest
spilled down her back in fiery waves. She wore black, mid-calf boots and
silver bracelets, silver earrings, and a woven choker of brightly-colored
embroidery thread. He couldn't quite see her eyes…
"Well?" Aaron was asking. "Do we ambush her?" Trey and Michael were
looking at him strangely. Jeremy shook his head.
"No," he said. "I don't think so. Let's just get moving." The girl was
almost there. She looked up right into his eyes…and stopped. She stared
at him. He stared at her. Right into her eyes. They were green!
She blinked.
"Um, you're blocking my way," she said. Not 'Hey, aren't you…?' or 'Oh,
my god, you're…'
"Sorry," he said and stepped aside. She walked past him without even a
backward glance. "Sorry, Tryl." He whispered. She stopped dead. And
turned around.
"What did you say?" she asked, her voice soft and trembling. Her eyes
were wide. Jeremy mouthed the word that had popped into his mind. Tryl.
She gasped.
"No one knows that name!" she cried aloud. Michael, Trey, and Aaron were
staring at the two of them. In a lower voice, she said, "You have some
explaining to do." With that, she turned and walked off. Jeremy followed.
His friends called out to him, but he didn't seem to hear them.
The two of them walked to the food court, the girl leading, Jeremy
following. They sat down at a table near the middle. The girl watched him
for a moment with those deep green eyes. Finally, she spoke.
"So. You speak the one name that no one calls me by, nor even knows. How
is this?" Her voice, no longer filled with panic, was soft, warm, and
soothing. And somewhat familiar…
"I…it just popped into my mind," he said lamely. She stared hard at him,
her face unreadable.
"Who are you?" she asked finally. He blinked.
"Jeremy. Jeremy Jason McCole," he said. She didn't look startled, just
puzzled. Then she said something that startled him.
"Do you know who I am?" she asked softly. "Or what?" He opened his mouth
to say 'no', but without meaning to, he said that one word that had given
her such a fright.
"Tryl," he whispered. She cocked her head to one side, looking very much
like a cat regarding a mouse.
"That is not a name to speak lightly or without discretion. You know who
I am, but not what," She glanced around. "But this is not the time or
place to say, kechara." then, "Your friends are coming."
"Hey, Romeo! So this is where you two disappeared to," Trey came up and
slapped Jeremy on the back. "Are you going to introduce us to your friend?"
"Oh, I'm very sorry. I'm Juliet," That got a laugh from the others.
"No, seriously, my name is Chrys Harrier." the girl said, smiling at them.
"And you are…?"
"Uh, Chrys, this is Aaron, that's Trey, and the one behind you is
Michael," Jeremy said, flushing at being called 'Romeo.' The corner of
Chrys's mouth quirked as if she were trying not to laugh. Jeremy's blush
deepened.
"Well, I need to be running," Chrys said finally. "I have some work to do
and a bit of packing as well." She stood up, leaned over, and kissed
Jeremy on the cheek. "Nice meeting you." She said to the boys. And she
walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Woo hoo! Lover boy!" Trey and Aaron had been poking fun at Jeremy for
the past half an hour. Michael, however, had been silent. Jeremy looked
at him.
"Something wrong, man?" he asked, ignoring Trey and Aaron. Michael shook
his head.
"Nothin', just a feeling I got. Like I'm not gonna see you for a long
time. And you'll come back different somehow, ye know?" Jeremy nodded
slowly.
"Yeah, man," he said softly. "I do."
Chapter Two
Flight one-one-five for England now boarding at gate E28. Flight
one-one-five for England now boarding at gate E28." Jeremy sighed and
picked up his carry-on. He headed for gate E28, slowly, almost reluctantly.
"… I'll be fine, Mother! You needn't worry about me like you used to. I
promise I'll write. And I won't rescue any royalty this time.
Now I've got to hurry, they're calling my gate!" Jeremy looked up at the
sound of this familiar voice, but he only saw a retreating dark green scarf.
When he reached the gate, there was already a line. The line moved
steadily. He looked up in time to see a ticket being handed to the person.
The name on the ticket was Chrysanthemum Harrier. As he watched, the
woman turned and gave him a slow and deliberate wink before putting in a
pair of dark sunglasses.
He handed over his ticket and boarded the plane, heading for first class.
Storing his carry-on above the seat, he noticed that the seat next to him
was already occupied. A woman in black and dark green with silver
bracelets was already seated and was staring out the window. One of her
dark green scarves covered her hair. As he sat down, she turned and smiled.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said, removing her sunglasses and watching
him with star-filled green eyes.
"Chrys!" She grinned at this outburst and nodded.
"Yes, Chrys, Jeremy," she said lightly. "I'm surprised you remembered me."
"How could I forget you?" he muttered. Then, a little louder, "How could
I forget when your voice speaks to me every night and your eyes haunt my
dreams?" Chrys looked confused.
"Excuse me?"
"All passengers, please fasten your seat belts, make sure your seats are
in an upright position, and prepare for take-off," Chrys muttered
something impolite under her breath as she fastened her seat belt and
returned to looking out the window. The plane taxied out onto the runway.
In minutes, they were air-borne. Chrys glanced at Jeremy.
"So, what's this about dreams?" she asked in a low voice. Her tone told
him to keep his voice low. He found himself telling her all about the dream.
"Well, for the past few months, I've been having this dream. In it,
there's a black figure shining with a halo of gold. It beckons to me and I
move towards it almost as if my feet have minds of their own, first
walking, then running. And all the time, a vision of forest-green eyes is
in my mind. And a voice, your voice, is always crying out to me 'The Dark
One is coming…'" Jeremy turned to look at Chrys. She was staring at him,
eyes wide.
"What else happens in this dream?" she asked steadily. "For instance,
what are you feeling?"
"Afraid," he said after a moment. "But it was like I wanted to go to this
dark one even as it chilled me cold with fear," Chrys was watching him.
He couldn't tell what she was thinking.
Chrys was silent for a bit. Then, she began to sing.
"Black is the heart that holds no kin.
Dark is the One that preys on men.
Mortal blood stains the rocky shore.
Sailors lured by the Siren's song, her song,
And met their maker swiftly.
"It trills and spills through the rolling waves
And whistles on the wind like an angel plays
The notes calling to you with its magic phrase
Is the spell of the Siren's song, her song,
Her victims following faithfully.
"O'er the ocean rides her song so sweet
Luring sailors strong their lonely deaths to meet.
And they shall find that she will dine!
And they die for the Siren's song, her song,
She is the Dark One's lady.
"Oh, sing as the waters run up the shore!
Come sing! Lend your voice to the ocean's roar!
Stay for a while with your lover sweet
And sing with the Siren's song, her song,
But watch the tide's trek closely.
"Stars in the heavens sparkle bright-
Come! Watch them twinkle in the fading light.
Sleep for awhile in your love's embrace
And sing out the Siren's song, her song,
But watch the tide's trek closely.
"Tide coming in with the dawning light.
Look now! See the dolphins blue take flight!
Yet without a peep and still they sleep
As they listen to the Siren's song, her song,
The waves enfold them deeply."
It was a simple song, not hard to learn, yet her voice turned it into the
finest music ever heard. It carried the cool evil of the Dark One, the
sadness of the dead sailors that met their death on the rocks of an island,
and the trill of the Siren's song of which she sang. Around them, people
turned in their seats to listen. They clapped when the song ended.
A sickening lurch and a muffled boom cut off the applause. The red
emergency sign flashed over their heads.
"Hmmm. Sounds like the engines just died," Chrys said mildly, handing
Jeremy a PFD. "Put this on," she said, stripping off her jewelry. She
climbed over him and grabbed her carry-on, stuffing the bracelets into it
and strapping it around her shoulders and waist.
Around them was pandemonium as people leapt out of their seats, grabbing
for PFDs and other things. Chrys looked at them all and shook her head.
Then she turned to Jeremy.
"Grab hold of me and don't let go," she said to him. "Whatever happens,
don't let go." She said it calmly, but with conviction. He grasped her
hand in his and held as tight as he dared. "Crouch down." she said. He
crouched down beside her, then, as the plane tipped forward, flung his arm
around her and held on to her. Then, they struck the water and everything
went black.
Jeremy awoke coughing and spitting up water. He felt Chrys's hand still
closed about his and he opened his eyes. Star-filled green eyes met his.
"Tryl," he murmured, and fell asleep.
When he woke again, the sun was going down. Chrys was a few feet away,
starting a fire. He struggled to sit up.
"Good, you're awake," she said, looking up. She stood and came over to
him, kneeling beside him and helping him to sit up. "How do you feel?" she
asked.
"Awful. Like I just died or something," he said, wincing. Chrys was
silent for a moment.
"You nearly did," she whispered. He stared at her.
"What happened to the other passengers?" he asked when he had found his
voice. Silently, she pointed behind him. He turned.
There, in the shallows of the water, was the plane, wrecked beyond all
recognition. The wings were gone. He saw that they had been pulled away
to make a lean-to. There was no sign of any survivor. Only a red spill in
the shallow water. Something had gauged a hole into the side of the plane.
A tree lay on top of the sorry wreck.
"No survivors?" he asked her, his voice a whisper. She shook her head.
"Only us. We were lucky," she said, touching his forehead. He then felt
the bandage and his eyes fell upon his bloodstained shirt that lay a few
feet away from him. His chest was wrapped in what looked like green
fabric. Chrys's scarves, he realized.
He looked at her. She lightly touched a bruise on her right cheek and
smiled weakly. "I managed to salvage our luggage if you want a clean
shirt." She pointed to his suitcase near the fire.
He noted a black suitcase next to it. Obviously her luggage. It was
open, and he saw medical supplies near by. She must have used them to tend
his wounds. Suddenly, he felt a wave of gratitude toward this girl about
whom he knew next to nothing.
I wish I knew more about you, he thought. She turned away from the fire.
"All right. What do you wish to know?" she asked. He gaped at her.
"Uh, for starters, how did you do that?" She shook her head.
"Besides that," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching. He frowned.
"Okay. What is your full name?" he asked.
"Chrysanthemum Emerald Harrier,"
"Why were you so startled when I called you Tryl?"
"Tryl is my soul name. No one but my recognized soulmate is supposed to
know it. And then, only because it will spring into his mind when our eyes
meet,"
"Then how do I know it?"
"Take a guess,"
"Why have I been dreaming about you?"
"Beats the heck outta me,"
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen,"
"Why were you flying to England?"
"On royal command,"
"Huh?"
"I saved the life of one of the royal family,"
"Who?"
"Prince William,"
A pause.
"What are you?" he asked, remembering her remark the day they had first met.
"A shifter," she whispered, as if the very trees had ears. He looked at
her blankly.
"What's that?" he asked. Then, to his utter amazement, Chrys began to
change.
First, her eyes became golden with cat-like pupils. Then her skin turned
dark, like very dark chocolate. Her hair got longer and darker. Her
little fingers shriveled and were sucked into her hands. She grew claws,
fangs, wings, and a whip-like tail. All in all, she looked like something
out of the movie Gargoyles. Then, the horn, long and sharp, grew from the
middle of her forehead. She bared her teeth in a cat-like grin.
"Hello, Jeremy," she said. Then she turned and saw a small animal.
"Hello, breakfast." And she dove for the animal, a rabbit, caught it, and
bit into it deeply. Jeremy looked away.
"Sorry," he heard a moment later. "I forgot that you had never seen a
Navarazzi feed before. The sight can be quite disturbing." Jeremy turned
back toward her. There was nothing remaining of the rabbit.
"So, what are you?" he asked.
"I am a shifter. In human form, my name is Chrysanthemum Emerald Harrier.
In Navarazzi form, it's Tayr-Kadrek-Shelent-Marica-Saber-Stalker-Shifting
Experiment II. Tayr for short.
"But there are three minds inside a shifter's brain. Like a
schizophrenic. There is the human mind. Chrys is very happy with this
life oddly enough. Then, there's the Navarazzi mind. Tayr likes action.
I'd almost call her completely crazy if it weren't for the fact that she
saved my life. And then, there's me. The mind of the shifter. The one
that controls the body. That actually speaks to and interacts with others.
I call myself Syren,"
Jeremy stared at her for a long moment, watching the flickering firelight
play with the shadows on Chrys's, or Tayr's, long, deadly blade-like horn.
"Why tell me any of this?" he asked finally.
"You asked," she said simply. "And I can't seem to lie to you. Any other
questions?"
"Um, would you mind changing back to human?" he asked awkwardly, not
wanting to offend her. Surprisingly, she laughed.
"Of course. My appearance unnerves you?" she asked as she shifted back to
human form. Jeremy nodded.
"A little," he admitted sheepishly. He was noticing her outfit. She'd
shed the jacket she'd worn on the plane and was now in a spaghetti-strap
shirt with a very low back. Probably cut that way to accommodate her wings
when she shifted. His eyes fell to her ample chest, then flew guiltily up
to her face. Something in him was pulling him toward her. He resisted and
asked, "So, why would Prince William command your appearance?" Chrys made
a face.
"His father commanded it. I suppose he wants to settle the small matter
of my being common born," she said. She was frowning, as if resisting some
powerful force.
"Um, I guess I should ask, what do I call you? Chrys? Tayr? Syren?" He
shrugged helplessly. That bit about common born confused him no end. But
it was none of his business.
"In public, you call me Chrys. When we're along, feel free to call me
Syren or, if I'm shifted, Tayr," she said. Then, in a whisper, almost
wistfully, "But I wish you'd call me Tryl." She shook herself, blinked,
then settled back against a rock. "Any other questions?"
"One," Jeremy said. His stomach asked it first by rumbling, and he
winced. "When's dinner?" Chrys laughed.
"Here," she said, handing him a plate that had been by the fire. "I had
my breakfast already."
"Breakfast?"
"Navarazzi are nocturnal," she explained.
"Oh." Jeremy applied himself to his food, trying not to think of the
rabbit Chrys had just devoured. He looked up to see Chrys staring at him.
She blinked, then blushed.
"I'd almost forgotten how strong natural human instincts can be," she
said, as if making conversation. He nodded. He knew what she was feeling.
He felt it, too. She went on. "I guess, in cases like these, there are
only two things you can do. Resist and suffer from the need. Or give in."
"We hardly know each other," Jeremy whispered, his food and appetite
forgotten. His eyes were locked with hers.
"Our bodies don't," she agreed. But our minds have known for ages. He
started, hearing her voice in his mind. Trembling, he set his plate aside
and stood up. She stood up as well.
He wasn't quite sure which of them had moved first. It scarcely mattered.
But suddenly, they were in each other's arms. He caressed her soft, silky
hair. She slid her hands along the back of his neck. It wasn't hard
lining up the position, and when they kissed, he nearly forgot all else.
His skin burned wherever she touched him and tingled when she moved her
hand away. In every place their bodies touched, it was as if someone had
poured liquid fire between them.
They broke away from each other for a moment. Her eyes held longing, but
restraint. His held a deep anxiety. Slowly, Chrys walked over to her
suitcase and pulled out a pair of blankets. One, she spread on the ground
by the fire. The second she lay on top of it. Then she turned to the fire
and banked it. She looked up at Jeremy.
No, he read. Not yet. And he agreed.
They stretched out on the blanket, covering themselves with the second
blanket. Somehow, they managed to shift position so that they were in each
other's arms again.
"Goodnight, kechara," Chrys whispered in his ear.
"Goodnight, Tryl," Jeremy whispered to the darkness.
Chapter Three
Morning found them curled up next to the well-banked fire, sound asleep in
each other's embrace. Dawn found them breaking camp. Chrys was folding
the blankets and scattering the ashes of their fire. Jeremy was packing
things into the suitcases and carry-ons.
"One question I didn't ask," Jeremy said as he stuffed a sheathed dagger
into Chrys's backpack.
"Yes, kechara?" Chrys asked from where she was dismantling the lean-to.
Jeremy grinned.
"What in the world does 'kechara' mean?" Chrys laughed.
"It means 'beloved' in the old tongue," she said, grinning. He chuckled.
"Oh," he said. He looked up to see Chrys staring into the distance. He
watched as she shifted from human to Navarazzi. Flapping her wings, she
took off. He watched her circle above an area in the forest, then dive
strait down. He heard rather than saw her make the kill. A larger animal,
possibly a goat. He winced at the goat's scream of terror.
Shuddering at the thought of Chrys devouring the animal raw, Jeremy
returned to packing up. This was his soul mate? The person he was meant
to spend the rest of his life with? It disgusted him, but somehow, he
didn't really care.
A crackle in the underbrush signaled Chrys's return. He wondered how he
would face her. He turned.
Chrys was carrying the goat, still intact, in her arms. She didn't look
at him, but carried the goat over to her bag and wrapped it in cloth.
Then, she strapped it to her pack and strapped the pack to her chest. He
wondered why until he remembered her wings.
Then she picked up her suitcase and turned to face him. "Ready?" He
nodded, licking dry lips. He was suddenly very afraid.
"We go then. If trouble comes or we are attacked, mount on my back," she
said, looking toward the vast undergrowth of jungle. Jeremy wondered what
she could have seen that caused her to react this way. He gulped. "Let's
go."
Chrys started off into the jungle, heading inland. Jeremy followed,
looking right and left for any sign of trouble. He tripped over a root.
Chrys whirled and caught him. "Careful, kechara," she said. He blushed.
"Sorry," he said, standing up. She hesitated, then nodded. She started
walking again, Jeremy following. Suddenly, she stopped. He bumped into
her. "What is it?"
"Shhh," she whispered, then bent down and studied the ground.
A low growl rumbled up from deep in her chest. Chrys snarled and began to
shift. Then, to Jeremy's shock, she stripped off her clothes, keeping the
packs in place. He was glad that his jeans hid his reaction.
There was a sickening crunch and she fell forward, her knees reversed.
Mount on my back, Chrys said into his mind, twitching her tail from side
to side. He did, awkwardly, being careful of her wings. Thread your hands
into my hair like it's a horse's mane and hang on. He did so, his fear
mounting higher. Her hair in this form was coarse and thick. Like a
horse's mane, his mind thought.
Chrys set off at a brisk trot, giving no outward signs of alarm. Her
immense wings were folded to her sides to allow for easy passage through
the undergrowth. Jeremy laced his fingers through Chrys's thick hair and
held onto her shoulders, making sure to keep out of the way of her wings in
case she needed to make a quick take-off.
Suddenly, there was a rustle in the bushes. Chrys stopped dead and
flicked out her tongue as if tasting the air. She growled low in her
throat and moved toward it. The rustling grew louder and the bushes
shuddered and shook. Then out burst…. Surely they were monsters!
One of them was about seven feet tall with raking blades at it's wrists,
elbows, knees, and three blades raking forward from it's forehead and the
feet of a Tyrannosaur. The other could only be described as a giant
centipede with lobster-clawed hands, red, jelly-like eyes, and a mouth full
of razor-sharp teeth.
Jeremy knew what they were. Oh, yes, he knew. He'd seen the like of them
only once before, but that had been enough. The seven-foot walking razor
blade was a Hork-Bajir. And the centipede could only be a-
Taxxon!
Chapter Four
Taxxon! Chrys mind-hissed. Then she let loose a blood-curdling,
spine-chilling, oh-my-god-I'm-gonna-wet-myself howl.
G-G-R-R-R-R-RO-O-O-OW-OW-O-R-R-R!
Jeremy nearly passed out from fright. Clearly, the Hork-Bajir didn't like
it either. It was a predator's howl. Even the Taxxon looked shaken. That
seemed odd at first, because he knew Taxxons were bloodthirsty creatures.
Then he remembered. They weren't dealing with just a Hork-Bajir and a Taxxon.
Yeerks!
"Grafrash, grafrash! I kill!" The Hork-Bajir yelled and charged at them.
That was either very brave on the Hork-Bajir's part, or very, very stupid.
"I don't think so," Jeremy said coolly.
Chrys reared up and lashed her tail at the on-coming Hork-Bajir, striking
it across the eyes. She bared her long, sharp fangs and sank them into the
Hork-Bajir's snake-like neck. The Hork-Bajir was down.
The Taxxon immediately began to gnaw on his fallen comrade. Chrys wasted
no time launching herself into the air with Jeremy clinging to her back.
Once they were well above the feasting Taxxon and out of sight, Chrys
shuddered.
Horrible. Taxxons never cease to disgust me! She said. Jeremy shook his
head.
No creature deserves a death like that. Not even a Hork-Bajir, he said.
Chrys barked sharply and banked her wings just in time to keep from falling.
What do you know of Hork-Bajir? she asked sharply.
I know that they were once a good people, but their entire race was
enslaved by yeerks long ago, he said. I also know that the Taxxons are
allies to the yeerks. And that a group of aliens called Andalites are here
on Earth fighting them. And, he added, that Yeerks are generally an
arrogant species.
Not unlike humans in that respect, Chrys muttered dryly. Jeremy laughed
weakly.
Touché, he said. Okay, so I can get pretty arrogant at times. A ripple
in the sky ahead caught his attention. Heads up! There's a cloaked bug
fighter at one o'clock!
Great Mother of Isis! Chrys exclaimed. It's headed right at us!
<Well, well, well. What have we here?> The voice was so evil, so
horrible, that Jeremy cringed. He'd heard that voice before. Just before
he'd seen a man turn into a monster. That was when the nightmare had
begun. He knew that voice.
Visser Three.
Chapter Five
Visser Three, the only yeerk to take an Andalite host. The abomination.
The true Dark One.
YOU! he shouted in his mind at the Visser. The abomination laughed and
the bug fighter rippled into existence.
<What's this? A meddling Andalite?> he sneered. Chrys growled at the bug
fighter and echoed his own thoughts.
Filthy yeerk scum! she shouted. In fact, she sounded just as he had. It
took him a moment to realize that she was still keeping up the charade that
she was just an animal. In an aside to him, she said, Pretend I'm just an
animal. A horse, maybe. You'll have to do all the talking.
<I'll see that my finest lieutenants are placed in your heads. Having
captured you once and for all, I will become Visser One!>
Strong words, yeerk, but that's all they are. Words. And ego. You and
your kind will be defeated! The Visser laughed menacingly.
<Not likely, Andalite filth,>
"Huytax!" Jeremy swore under his breath in Galard. He'd picked up a bit
of it from when he'd been a slave of the yeerks. It meant something very
impolite. Chrys gave a bark of laughter that she immediately turned into a
growl of anger. She snarled up at the bug fighter. They heard the
Visser's laughter in their minds.
<What's this? The almighty Andalites are reduced to using lower
life-forms as pets?> A dramatic pause. <Perhaps I am merely dealing with
a nothlit and his pet riding beast?> Jeremy could feel Chrys stiffen in
anger and indignation. He noticed her eyes glowing red. She was furious.
Let us in and I'll show you what this nothlit can do! he shouted at the
yeerk Visser. The bug fighter fired at them and Chrys dodged to one side,
just barely avoiding the blast. Dracon beams. Jeremy felt his hair
crinkle from the heat.
Cowering, spineless slug! he hissed. They were so close that Jeremy could
see Visser Three through the front view-ports. You can shoot at us from
the safety of your ship, but you are too afraid to meet in single combat!
Visser Three snarled something impolite in Galard. Jeremy baited him even
more.
Could it be that the almighty Visser Three is afraid to battle a nothlit
Andalite in a fair fight? he shouted up at the yeerk Visser. That remark
did the trick. Visser Three opened the hatch to the bug fighter.
"Delongrath," Jeremy said to Chrys.
What does that mean? she asked, amused. He grinned.
I don't know. Just fly in through the hatch.
Yes, sir! she said humorously. She swept her wings back and dove through
the hatch, back winging to settle gracefully on the deck plates. Jeremy
dismounted, but kept a hand on Chrys's back.
Then, Visser Three himself stepped out. Jeremy had met the yeerk Visser
face to face for the first time on a cruise ship. He'd frightened Jeremy
then. He terrified him now. The Visser seemed uncertain.
<You seem familiar somehow….> He hesitated. Jeremy gave a bark of laughter.
Somehow this doesn't surprise me, yeerk, he said. Do like my human morph?
I've had it for some time now.
<Ah, yes. The actor.> The Visser's tone was dismissing. <You have good
taste in morphs. For an Andalite.>
Chrys snorted, then growled something that obviously this Visser didn't
understand.
G-R-R-R-ROWR-R-ROWR-R-R-ROWR!
WHI-I-I-I-INE!
ACH-R-R-R-R-R-ROW!
"Siva mich luvos ne gharfash ecki l'le suvo vive yeerk!" she snarled.
What was that about creating the illusion that you were just an animal?
Jeremy asked, mentally chuckling. He recognized Galard. Chrys hadn't been
polite. And what an amazing vocabulary.
What can I say? I got mad, she responded with a mental shrug. Besides,
there's no way I'm letting him talk to my soulmate like that! she added
with such ferocity that he blinked. Visser Three looked startled to say
the least.
<Another Andalite?> he asked himself. <Of course! This must be one of
your pitiful friends trapped in the form of a lower life-form. Obviously
primitive.> he added with contempt.
Not as primitive as yeerks! she shot back. Visser Three staggered under
the force of Chrys's mind. Jeremy hid a grin.
Chrys lashed her tail back and forth. Jeremy concentrated on Visser
Three. On that wicked tail-blade, those four, powerful legs, those stalk
eyes…
What the- Chrys exclaimed, staring at him. He looked down. He was
morphing! But that was impossible!
Clearly the Visser was as startled as he was. Jeremy shook his head
slightly to clear it and started concentrating again. He finished
morphing… Into a full grown Andalite!
<What the- How did I do that?> he said in private thought-speak to Chrys.
Oh, like I'm supposed to know? she asked, her mind-voice shaking. Heads
and stalk-eyes up! she added.
Jeremy saw the Visser's tail twitch. A blur of movement! He ducked just
in time and struck back automatically. His tail-blade bit deeply into the
Visser's side.
<Aaaaaaargh!> Visser Three screamed in pain. Jeremy was morphing as fast
as he could. He leapt onto Chrys's back.
Not fast enough. Visser Three's tail-blade arched through the air and
slashed Jeremy's arm. Jeremy bit his lip until it bled, keeping himself
from crying out.
Chrys slashed at the Visser with her claws, then bounded out of the ship,
spreading her wings and soaring off. Behind them, they could hear the
Visser scream, <We'll meet again, Andalite!>
Chrys landed where she'd dropped her suitcase. Jeremy rolled off her and
landed in the dust. He sat up, fighting to keep from passing out. But
when she turned around and touched his arm, he couldn't help it. The
blackness surrounded him. And he didn't fight it.
Chapter Six
Jeremy awoke onto blackness. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened
them again.
Chrys must have carried him further on, because he didn't recognize his
surroundings. Chrys!
He sat up and had to fight a wave of dizziness. Looking around, he saw a
low fire burning. Chrys was nowhere to be seen. He fought down a wave of
panic and sent out a sending. Somehow he knew how. And he got an answer!
Suddenly, Chrys was at his side, helping him to sit up, supporting his
weight until he could lean against the tree.
Then, they were kissing. His hands moved over her body. Hers caressed
his back, sides, and neck, carefully avoiding his injured arm.
In between kissing her, he murmured, "I wish this arm wasn't getting in
the way so much." She looked mischievously at him. Her hand came around
to his arm and rested her hand on the wound.
Where her hand touched, he felt the place flare up white hot, then the
pain lessened, then ceased. Chrys winked.
"Healing Touch," she whispered, then kissed him deeply. He kissed her
back, amazingly conscious of the fact that she hadn't put her clothes back
on. And the fact that only his jeans kept him from giving in to the
urgings in his body.
The blankets had been spread out nearby. They rolled together into them,
Jeremy somehow managing to shed his jeans. Above them, the stars winked
brightly, as if celebrating the joining of the two soulmates below them.
The next morning, they were up, dressed, packed, and moving. Chrys had
cooked the goat she'd caught yesterday for him to eat. The hide, she'd
stretched across her packs, fur-side out, to dry and cure.
She was shifted again and moving on all fours. After the encounter with
the Hork-Bajir and Taxxon yesterday, Jeremy didn't blame her. He carried
the extra luggage so she wasn't so weighed down.
They weren't trying to get distance between themselves and the wreck, just
move enough to confuse any enemies.
They stopped for a meal at midday, and again at night for dinner and a
wrestle in the blankets. In the morning, they moved on, erasing any signs
that they'd been there.
Always, the two of them were on the lookout for signs of Taxxons or
Hork-Bajir.
Three days later, they came to the edge of a cliff. As they looked out
over the edge, where the waves crashed against the rocks, Jeremy suddenly
stopped and listened.
There! A soft tune, like a mournful trilling, was whistling over the
wind. The notes seemed to call to him. What was that song Chrys had sung
on the plane?
"Chrys, do you hear that?" he whispered. Chrys's lupine ears twitched.
Oh, yeah. I hear it. I hear the Siren's song, she whispered through
tele-speech. Jeremy took the hint.
What's causing it? he asked.
The wind. The wind blowing through the holes and cracks in the rocks, she
said, looking around her. Then she closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
The music that issued from her lips was so like the trills of the wind
that, at first, he didn't realize it was her voice. He closed his eyes and
let the notes wash over him, surrounding and flowing through him.
He opened his eyes just in time to see a Hork-Bajir blade slash through
Chrys's wings. He whirled on the Hork-Bajir and, avoiding the blades,
grabbed him and threw him over the cliff.
Jeremy turned just in time to see Chrys, his one true love, his soulmate,
bleeding her red-black blood, topple over the edge of the cliff, unable to
fly to save herself. His anguished cry melded with her scream of terror.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !"
Chapter Seven
Jeremy sat up in bed, shaking. The dream had been so real! What was
this? What did it mean?
He looked at his clock. Almost eleven thirty. Eleven thirty?!
"Of all the-" Jeremy leapt out of bed, pulled on his jeans and a clean
shirt and raced out of his room.
The phone rang and he got to the door.
"Jeremy! Telephone!" his mother yelled.
"Tell him I'm out the door!" he yelled back and the matched actions for
words, jumped into his car and sped off to the mall.
In his car, he mused about the dream. Soul names, he thought. I wonder
what mine is?
Immediately, the answer came. That single name rang in his mind like a
golden-toned bell.
Rahn.
At the mall, Jeremy hooked up with Trey, Michael, and Aaron. The three of
them then wandered around the mall, Jeremy with this funny feeling of deja
vu. Some girls ran up to beg for autographs and he went ahead and signed
them.
At one point Michael nudged him. "There's some weird girl following us."
Jeremy turned to look and saw-
Oh. My. God. he thought. For right behind him was a girl dressed all in
black and silver with multi-colored scarves. The front part of her hair
was braided through with beads and feathers and bright embroidery thread
like her choker.
"Guys? Let's move over a bit," he said shakily. Aaron looked dubious,
but Trey pulled him over. The girl walked by them hurriedly and turned
into the bookstore. He glanced in the window. Sure enough, she was
talking to the cashier. He walked on, his face pale.
"Hey, man, what's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost," Michael
said, frowning.
"Yeah, man, who's the girl?" Aaron asked. Jeremy shook his head, trying
to clear it. There was something….
"Oh, God!" he moaned. "Not again!"
"'Not again' what?" Trey demanded.
"Hey, she's coming out!" Aaron said. "Do we ambush her?"
Jeremy looked back. Sure enough, the girl was coming out and carrying a
brown paper bag.
"Well, do we ambush her?" Aaron asked again, impatiently this time.
Jeremy gave him a sideways look.
"Are you nuts? Come on, let's keep moving." Chrys. That's it, he
thought. Chrysanthemum Emerald Harrier. She was almost there….
"Hey, Chrys," he said as she walked by.
"Hey, Jeremy," she said absently. Then she stopped. And turned around.
She walked back. "Wait a minute. How do you know my name? For that
matter, I should be surprised that you do!"
Aaron, Trey, and Michael were standing there, their mouths slowly dropping
open. Jeremy belatedly remembered to introduce her to them.
"Oh, Chrys? This is-"
"Aaron, Trey, and Michael," she broke in. "I know. Nice to meet you."
Then she stopped. Her eyes widened, comprehension dawning in their dark
green depths.
"Tryl," he said.
"Rahn," she said at the same time. They stared at each other.
"Did you-" he began.
"Have a really weird dream last night?" she finished. He just nodded.
Chrys glanced at Trey, Aaron, and Michael. They were staring at the two of
them.
"Um, what's going on?" Aaron asked. Jeremy blinked, then slowly began to
smile.
"Just catching up with an old friend," he said. "Hey, I've got to get
going, but I'll see you again, Chrys."
"Hopefully not on the plane," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. He
laughed.
"Let's just hope it doesn't crash this time." Chrys joined in his
laughter, then waved and walked off.
"'This time'? Jeremy, you okay?" Michael asked. Jeremy sighed and grinned.
"Me? Okay? I've never felt better in my life."
~FIN~
