The Verse (Episode 3, Season 3): Boreal and John Grey

Cross the Gate with Finn and Ella into Aelfheim, the mythical world of the elves.

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Deep in Aelfheim country, Ella, Finn and Elsen are making their escape from the underground military base, with the aid of the dragon Snowstorm. Their first destination is a Boreal supply station, and their immediate goal is survival. Both their escape and survival might prove tricky, though, given that Queen Adramar has set all her forces in pursuit — the Boreal dragon rider unit, all her spies as well as the machines under her control.

But even if Ella and the two elves managed to shake off their pursuers, Aelfheim isn’t a world to be taken lightly. As she soon discovers, Finn’s tales didn’t quite do justice to the savage animals, crazy rogue machines, or the treacherous climate conditions of this frozen world.

If the snowstorms and deadly winds don’t get them, if the sleeping towers don’t rise from the snow and shoot them down, if the rock wolves and ice cats don’t have them for dinner... then there’s hope for another day.

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The Verse (Episode 3 of Boreal and John Grey Season Three) © Copyright 2015 by Chrystalla Thoma

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover design by Chrystalla Thoma

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Dedication

To the illusions in our lives.

Serpents dwell beneath the roots, enemies lurk among the branches.

The tree dreams, nightmares and pain,

or memories of older days, filled with flickering hope.

The tree that lives, the tree that moves,

the tree that breathes, and cradles the worlds,

Who cares for it? Who waters it with love and tears,

who keeps away the biters, the gnashers and grinders?

Who cares if the tree falls?

Inside the mighty hinge of the heavens, inside the pillar that grounds the worlds,

There is a soul no one has seen.

The tree that loves, the tree that needs,

the tree that is.

An incarnation of the Grey in the shape of a man.

A man supports the nine worlds and the five heavens.

Pray he never falls.

Chapter One: Here Be Dragons

Mike sat across from Ella, telling her how Scott had thrown away all of Mike’s clothes and replaced them with parrots. Inside his closet.

They keep squawking, shitting, and calling me names, Mike muttered, and I don’t even want to talk about the fuss they make when I try to wear them.

Yeah, that sucks, Ella muttered from where she slumped on the sofa. And I have to wear dragons. Imagine that.

What do you do with the claws? Mike asked.

She opened her mouth and closed it. What, indeed? Snowstorm nudged her with her paw, so she had no option but to answer.

Wait a minute... What was the dragon doing on the sofa? How did it fit on the cushions?

When she turned, Snowstorm opened her fanged mouth, and Ella tumbled down into darkness. She tried to scream, but couldn’t.

Ella. Someone was shaking her — a strong grip, a low male baritone. Familiar. Wake up.

Mike? she whispered, twisting, blinking crusty eyes.

No.

High cheekbones, pale gray eyes, silver hair. Finn.

I had the weirdest dream. Ella stretched and sat up. She rubbed her eyes. Mike was telling me he has to wear parrots instead of clothes, and I...

The snow vehicle lurched, throwing her to the side. Finn grabbed her arm and tugged her to him, his mouth twitching. His arm settled around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his spicy scent.

Where are we? She could see Elsen driving, his fingers flying over the flashing panels. Outside the windows running the length of the vehicle, all she saw was white.

Running.

Are they still after us?

Yeah.

She looked up at Finn’s face. His mouth was a thin line of anger and he glared at what lay outside as if it had personally offended him.  

They’d shot out of the tunnels and left the underground base just as the sky had started to lighten, and now it was hours later, probably noon, and they still hadn’t lost their tail. No wonder Finn was pissed.

What about Snowstorm? She had yet to see the white dragon, although Finn had assured her Snowstorm would find her way to them.

Finn said nothing, his gaze darkening. What did that mean?

Finn! Elsen barked from the pilot seat, and then something Ella of course didn’t get.

Finn released her and shot to his feet. Faen. His hands were on his Bowie knives, strapped to his belt.

What? Ella turned to look out of the window again. What is it?

Closing in, Finn bit off, and then snapped something at Elsen, pointing a finger at him and glaring daggers.

Elsen seemed unmoved, but got up and ceded his seat to Finn. His pet, a white bird that looked like a cross between an albino parrot and a vulture was perched on his shoulder, giving her the stink-eye.

Who’s closing in?

Carrier.

Meaning?

No reply.

Okay. Finn was back to monosyllables, and she couldn’t see anything on the white plain. The wind was still blowing, sending flurries of snow, obscuring the view, but obviously Elsen and Finn could see something, or else the vehicle’s sensors had gone off.

Ella drew her weapon, and took a calming breath. Looked out again.

And she saw it.

Large like a plane, the carrier rose out of the swirling snow mists like a shiny bird of prey, wings drawn in and flashing blue. A carrier, Ella thought, trying to restart her breathing. Carrying — what? Other snow vehicles? Fighter planes?

Elsen was hefting a wicked-looking weapon — a shimmering tube, thicker than her leg, with a feathery crest running down its length. Its sharp protrusions glinted like metal, silvery white. As she watched, he drummed his fingers on it in a seemingly random sequence, and the tube lengthened, growing to be almost her size.

Missile launcher? she quipped as he set himself at the opposite side of the vehicle, touching something and opening the window a crack. How had he done that?

Gritting her teeth, she tried to imitate what he’d done. Easy. Tap your finger there, and then there, and there...

Nothing.

Press harder, Finn said from his position at the front of the vehicle, startling her.

She pressed, and the window hissed open a few inches. Perfect.

She stuck her gun through, and then tried to imagine what difference it might do against a carrier. Her heart was hammering. She licked her dry lips.

I could sure use a missile launcher, too, she muttered. So Elsen is the chosen sniper now? Is he better than you?

Better? Finn repeated, a strange note in his voice.

Figured he could hear her muttering even above the roar of the engines.

A better sniper.

Finn didn’t reply for a long moment, so long in fact that she thought he was ignoring her. He drove the snowmobile through the snow so fast the vertical rock walls rising on her side streaked by like black ribbons.

He’s no better sniper than me, Finn finally said. I just drive better.

He wasn’t looking her way, but she could see a crooked grin on his face in his reflection in the glass.

Well, well. In this world, perhaps, Ella said, and then held her breath as they plunged down a slope. But maybe not for long, if you’re not careful.

Finn grunted something she didn’t catch, long silver bangs hiding his face as he tapped commands on the flashing console at superhuman speed — and then they were airborne.

Time slowed. They hovered in mid-air. Finn’s fine hair rose in a white cloud. Elsen’s mouth opened, as if to shout. Elsen’s bird flapped its white wings. Snow glittered around the vehicle like sparkle eye shadow.

Then they crashed back down. The impact threw Ella down on her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. She heard Elsen groan, and turned her head to find him face down, struggling to get up. He gathered his knees in and rose on all fours.

Finn? she muttered, rolling her head the other way, searching for him.

He was pulling himself up on the bench, already reaching for the controls. Hold on.

What did he mean? Are you all right?

We’re under attack. His voice was rough. Hold on to something.

Hold on to... She barely had time to comprehend what was happening, when Elsen yelled and grabbed her arm, pulling her up like a puppet and throwing her into a seat, then turning in a graceful movement and lifting his weapon, shoving it through the open window.

The wind tore into the vehicle through the open window, swirls of snow dancing in front of her eyes, until she pressed her face to the glass and looked outside.

Outside... On the