Shift (The Pandorma Adventures Book 1) (14 page)

A creature flits past me. I jump sideways in surprise. I barely get a glimpse of it before it’s up and over the hill. My heart starts beating faster at the bit I had seen. Instincts scream at me not to follow it but my curiosity wins. Quickly I pad to the top and stop in astonishment at what lay below me.

The hill I’m perched on is like half a bowl; each side sloping down until it meets flat ground. At the bottom of the hill is a very large expanse of what probably used to be grass—it’s all been cropped away now—and the beasts grazing on the grass are dinosaurs. Most of the dinosaurs I can see are sauropods, but a mix of smaller animals weave around them like bushes among trees. Smoky light that refuses to wash away bounces among the animals, causing a huge jumble of tricky shadows.

The hill’s drop isn’t straight down; it is more like a very high ramp. Clumps of grass start sprouting at the bottom of the slope but that is it. It’s not a hill you’d want to go rolling down. Rocks glaze the entire ramp part of the hill, and not just pebbles. Boulders the size of small cars are gathered in places as if there had been a wreck and it got frozen in time. The boulders cling to the hill-face unmoving, hushed beasts.

I let my vision flick back to the nearest boulder, which is currently hiding the thing that had nearly knocked me over. The shadow it is hiding in obstructs me from getting a better look at it. Movement flickers at the edge of my vision. I watch two predators race to a rock farther down. My blood runs cold at what they are.
Deinonychus.
Four more flit in the shadows above. They’re using the rocks and shadows as cover to sneak up to their prey. I watch them carefully maneuver down to the heard.

Most of the sauropods continue cropping the grass, ignoring the deinonychus completely. But chaos reigns among the rest of the herd when the hunters are spotted. Wildebeests, bison, and stegosauruses scatter like when you touch the surface of water and little ringlets flow out, before they regroup and continue running, the process repeating. I start slowly sliding down the hill. I should be safe if they’re all below hunting. I duck behind the stone the first raptor had hidden behind. It’s creepy watching how coordinated they are. I still can’t see which one they’ve picked from the mass of animals weaving and running, but they know exactly who their target is.

Finally a raptor, the one I assume is alpha, springs into the air and lands on a young stegosaurus. The rest of the pack rapidly joins in on the assault. Their strategy is suddenly clear to me. They’d purposely caused the commotion. The herd isn’t large, but big enough that when the animals started panicking, the mother stegosaurus had lost sight of her young one. It didn’t stand a chance against the seven raptors. A minute of it struggling while they relentlessly slash its sides and the battle is over. They greedily dig into their kill, the alpha ripping apart its belly to dig out the richest, most sought after organs.

A sudden thunderous roar sends me screeching into the air. I race around to the other side of the boulder. Nervously I peek around to see what had growled. A giant bear’s outline stands proud in the deepening darkness. The bear thunders past me. The earth under my paws shakes as it tears by.

The raptors scatter when it charges up to them. It lets out another deafening roar, claiming the prey as its own. The seven raptors eye the bear angrily, waiting for their leader to give the signal to attack. I tensely hold my breath, waiting for the predators to make a move.

A raptor darts forward, leaping onto the bear’s hindquarters and clawing at them before leaping off. The bear roars in fury and the battle is on. The raptors use their favorite attack method: slash and dash, ripping at its sides, face and back. One runs in and cuts at one side then backs off as another takes its place. The bear swings almost blindly at the raptors, too slow to make a mark. In frustration, it stands up, towering over the raptors and growling wrathfully. Now that its arms can move more freely, it measures each stroke, clipping one or another.
Whack!
I flinch at the splinter of bones as the bear hits one directly on the head. I barely hear the dull thud as the raptor lands eight feet away, dead. The raptors cease the attack, eyeing the bear pensively. Blood is soaking its fur at the shoulders, ribs, and back while the raptors have small nicks here and there. While they are paused I carefully sneak closer. Lying down to better hide behind the smaller rock.

This time the bear strikes first. Taking the raptors off guard it springs forward, landing on one and crushing it beneath its massive paws. Again I cringe at the crunch of bone. With two dead and only five left their leader seems to decide that the battle isn’t worth it and races up the hill and into the trees, the others swiftly following suit. The bear limps over to its hard won meal, tearing into it like it hasn’t eaten in ages.

Like me,
I can’t help but think. Warning starts pricking at my fur. The raptors had run into the forest behind me. They’d lost their meal. They’ll be looking for another. I don’t want to be it.
If I could just get into the herd I’d be safe for the night.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Horse.
I grit my teeth, as pain is the first thing I feel. It isn’t intense but it’s enough. My muscles bunch and stretch; lengthening and tightening, sapping my strength and leaving me shaking and breathless.

Fear forgotten, I give myself a minute of rest before, muscles trembling and me feeling like a glob of jello, I skid down the rest of the hill. My fear of the raptors starts trickling back to me. It gives me a tiny burst of energy and propels me down the hill. I dart past the bear and weave in and out among the animals, trying to reach the safety of the middle.

Most are settled for the night, letting out soft bellows or snorts. The few mothers caringly nestle their babies closely to their sides, others continue grazing, hoping to pick up morsels they may have missed in the daylight. I stop in front of a cluster of wildebeests. A mother grooming her baby stops and looks at me, head tilted quizzically then guardedly.

I nod my head in a few reassuring arcs, snort and stamp a hoof. The mother sets back to grooming her baby’s coat. I might be getting the hang of this animal thing after all.

“Are you lost?” asks a female wildebeest.

I turn sideways to her. “Lost?”

Her head swings up and down in large swoops. I guess that is supposed to be a yes. I’m not sure if she means lost because I am the only horse in the heard or if it just shows on my face. Part of me considers not telling her that I am indeed lost, but perhaps she can help me. “I am.”

The wildebeest gives me a look.

“Maybe you can help me? I’m looking for a place called Vacant Stones.”

“Never heard of it.” She looks toward the forest, eyes narrowed. “It’s a good thing you got out of those woods when you did. There’s no safe place among trees.”

Not knowing what to say, I stay quiet. I’m pretty sure she thinks it isn’t safe because of the raptors and such, but maybe it has something to do with Xavier. Deciding to see if I can pick up some information I ask, “Dangerous because of Xavier?”

“Xavier?” the male wildebeest dozing next to us asks fearfully. Another one repeats him sounding even more scared. Seconds later animals are buzzing with fear, repeating Xavier’s name and running about blindly. I do my best to stand stock still in the chaos but animals keep shoving into me and almost knocking me over. The fear is palpable even if Xavier himself is not here.

Sighing, I start to seek the outer edges of the herd then change my mind; a predator could be lurking in the darkness. Animals on the outside are the first they’ll go after. With resignation I hang my head and follow the herd’s frenzied dance of terror.

It takes an hour and then some for them to stop panicking. Mothers and babies had gotten separated and predators taking advantage of the chaos had killed them. Their wails of death only spurred the fear, if it was even possible for it to get stronger. But finally, the animals realized that Xavier was not among them and quieted back down. It had been even worse when the sauropods started freaking out. Then everyone had to take care not to be squashed. I snort in disdain as I plod through the herd. Who knew one name could cause so much panic.

I impulsively start looking for the female wildebeest I had talked to. But that’s useless. I come to stop beside a stegosaur. At a familiar snort I whip my head around. The female wildebeest stands a few feet away. I carefully approach her, just in case she blames me for the stampede. Although, yes, it technically was my fault, but I didn’t know! I eye her indecisively.

“I won’t bite,” she chuckles while she lay down.

Relief washes over me. Her tone isn’t blaming. I stand opposite her. “I honestly didn’t know his name would have that kind of effect.”

She tilts her head in bewilderment. “Really?”

I shrug. Or try is more like it since my skin just quivers like I’m shooing away flies. The stegosaur lying beside us grunts and I glance at it nervously.

“Don’t worry she’s asleep.”

“What can you tell me about—him?”

“I’m sure I can’t tell you much more than you already know,” she replies.

“Actually, it’d probably be just the opposite. I’m
new and haven’t heard much.” I brush my nose over a small tuft of grass and sniff. This grass is starting to smell good. Ugh, now I know I’ve gone insane.

“Come from the other world?” the wildebeest snickers. “I hope you last longer than most do.”

“Animals from the other world don’t last long here?” I reluctantly start nibbling the grass. Either I am beyond starving or being an animal is affecting me because this grass tastes very good right now.

“Nope. Creatures from the other world are smaller, less intelligent, and don’t adapt easily to our planet. They're usually dead before sunrise.”

An image of Ryan flashes through my mind, along with a shudder. How long will he last? Or either of us. I’m as good as dead now that I’ve lost Dark.

She begins speaking again before my worries can run away with me.

“Well then. First thing you should know, whatever you do, do
not
go to the north. Xavier owns most of the territory up there. Step hoof in the wrong place and his warriors will kill you. Apparently Xavier wants to rule our world or some other stupid idea—no one really seems to know.” Her eyes glaze over. “At first there was no one strong enough to challenge them—Xavier and Medusa. They quickly took over in many places. Now nowhere is safe. Those who oppose them are mercilessly killed. Or if you’re unlucky, forced to fight for him.” She shakes her head back and forth in misery.

“So who’s challenging them?”

“I heard that some tiger raised an army and is fighting them. That’s the only reason there’s anything left—anything beautiful—of Pandorma.”

The wildebeest lays her head down in weary resignation. She gazes up into the clear, starry sky. “Best sleep now. Always rest when you can. Never know what new terrors the next day will bring.” Her eyes flicker shut then her breathing deepens into slumber.

Her words rattle around my head. My eyes travel over the mismatched herd. Some sleep while others stand overly alert. Now that I am closer to them, they don’t seem healthy. All have visible ribs, shaggy coats, and fear ripples through their bodies and never leaves their eyes. The few trees that grow here and there are stripped bare; the grass cropped to the dirt in most spots, looks worn out, the richness gone, leaving much less in its place. These animals are trapped and miserable, too afraid to move, but still afraid to stay.

Chapter 11

That night
I’m woken by a large drop of water falling on my face. I look up to a sky clogged with threatening, heavy black clouds. They create their own smoky darkness, tuning the moon-tinted blackness of night into pitch black.

An earth shattering blast of thunder reverberates through my body and the ground. Lightning forks across the whole sky. There’s another blast of thunder and blinding light then suddenly a thick downpour confiscates the warm air. I can’t see two inches in front of me, but I can see several blades of lightening split across the sky at once followed seconds later by another crackle of thunder that trembles the earth beneath my hooves.

Crash!
The whole world seems to rumble and I feel a hint of fear. I scold myself for being afraid, I adore watching thunderstorms, but the sheer power and ferocity chills me inside. I blindly make my way through the rain until I run into a tree trunk.
Lissa.
My body must be adjusting to shifting, that didn’t take nearly as long and wasn’t nearly as painful. I slide down the bark, barely registering the slight pain in my eardrums as another devastating clash of thunder and lightning rocket across the sky.

Pelting rain turns into quarter-sized pieces of hail. The tree gives little protection and the hail feels like little fists repeatedly pounding against my body. I can feel the herd around me nervously shifting, but I can’t see what they’re doing. Another explosion of thunder shatters the air, but this time the ground doesn’t stop trembling because several other explosions follow.

Crash!
I stand and clutch the tree, digging my nails in, my stomach twisting. The shape of a sauropods’ leg rears up in front of me and I stumble to the side before it can trample me. I let out a small gasp of pain as another hailstone hits my thigh, this one bigger than the others.
Boom!
I scramble to my feet. The herd suddenly seems to confine me on every side, forcing me to run with them. Panic starts pulsing through me. They could be taking me in the wrong direction. Towards the forest full of waiting, purposeful hunters using the violent storm to their advantage.
Wolf.
My body sluggishly melts into the shape and I barley feel the pain or effects of shifting.
Crash!

I slink beneath the legs of a sauropod, trying to edge my way outside of the frightened herd.
Crash!
The thunderclap rings through my ears, causing me to whimper. A wildebeest barrels into me, sending me rolling through thick mud.
Crash!
I yelp and throw myself to the right, a sauropod foot slamming down inches from me. I stand and bolt through the animals, not caring which way I head, just trying to get out of their suffocating closeness.

I don’t know when I broke out of the herd because I just kept running—unable to see anything but the driving hail, rain, and lightning blades; unable to hear anything but the deafening thunderclaps and the throbbing in my ears.

* * * *

Exhaustion finally drags me into the dirt. I sit beneath a tree’s thin canopy, rain plopping onto me every now and then. Panting heavily I glance around. I’m in another forest, the soft patter of already dropped rain still making its way to the soaking forest floor.
Crash!
The clap is muffled, the hail and rain ceased.
Lissa.
I let out a shaky breath. That was the biggest rainstorm I have ever seen. I stand and glance down at myself. A layer of dirt cakes my skin and clothes. I start brushing off the dirt but it smears so I try to pick it off. I freeze when I think I hear music. I straighten and stand stock-still. It's very faint but I can definitely hear it. It's not any type of music I’ve ever heard. A melody of soft strands and deeper ones . . . a harp maybe?

Slowly I start walking in the direction of the music, brushing aside dripping leaves. The grass dips its raindrops into my shoes, sopping them. I hop across a small stream of muddy water, the luring melody growing stronger.

After several more feet I push aside a branch and get a clear view of where the music seems to be emanating from. A wall covered by flowers in every shade of orange with rocks poking out of the leafy foliage; hundreds of droplets of water drip off the petals. A filmy sheen of rainbows enchantingly mist in front of the wall.

The music seems to beckon me to come closer.

I take a few cautious steps toward the wall, stopping a few feet away, but the music shifts, insisting that I come even closer. I do. Then I lean over and watch the dripping water.
Odd.
The second a water droplet splashes apart a note flows out.
Huh.
Abruptly all the water alters so that it drips at the same time, creating a pleasant hum.

Slimy, cold webbed vines snake around my ankles and yank my feet out from under me. The wall shimmers away and I scream as the vines drag me into the yawning blackness.

The ground beneath me disappears as I’m pulled into warm water.

I grab a breath as my head is jerked under. The water grows colder and I become aware of a greenish glow. Slowly I open my eyes, blinking a few times until they adjust.

Beneath me lay thousands of shattered bones. They sway as if a small current is flowing beneath them. The small cavern holding me captive is dimly lit by the objects glowing inside disfigured skulls that sit on ledges jutting off the slimy walls.

An object glints faintly and I turn my head. The creature that had dragged me under floats into view. I resist letting out a shocked breath. A mermaid. Her skin is sugar white, her thick scarred tail a grayish hue. Her knotted black hair reaches the bottom of her tail fin. Her long nails end in curving points and her webbed hands hold a long, chipped dagger. She looks at me with glowing white eyes that gleam menacingly. The mermaid moves forward and I try to move back, but I realize my hands are bound. Seaweed is tightly wrapped around my wrists and ankles, the long strand around my ankles attached to the bottom of the cave. I tug but they hold fast. The mermaid hitches the blade beneath my jawbone.

“Didn’t your daddy ever teach you to beware mermaid’s melodies?” she asks, feigning sadness then laughing. “About time someone fell into my clever trap,” she hisses. “I’m quite hungry.” Her lips pull back in a snarl, revealing pointed teeth.

The mermaid opens her mouth to speak, but I strike her in the chest with my fists.
Dolphin.
My body struggles in vain to shift, but the bonds hinder it, causing me to jerk back into human form. The mermaid lets out an indignant screech and flies at me, knife stretched out. I try to duck but the water slows me down and the blade slashes my arm. My lungs start burning as blood lethargically leaks from the wound.

I roll to my back just as the mermaid brings down the knife. I throw my hands up to stop the blow and the knife slits the seaweed. The mermaid lets out an angry shriek, swinging the knife. I dodge it, knocking off a skull in the process. The mermaid watches the skull bob, her face contorted in unease. Using her moment of distraction I grab her wrist and the end of the dagger’s handle then yank as hard as I can. As the dagger slides out of her hand it cuts deeply into her palm. The mermaid lets out an animal like scream, the water vibrating.

I slash the seaweed binding my ankles then furiously kick for a tunnel near the top. The mermaid’s claws dig into my ankle. “You!”

I fling my hand back, slapping her across the face, but it’s weak. I’m out of breath, black encroaching on my vision. She parts her mouth and aims for my throat.
No!
I blindly thrust the knife out, hoping it’ll hit its mark. Her scream pierces my ears and ripples the water around me. Her claws release me and I swim away as fast as I can.

“You little devil!” she roars.

Her words are muffled as I’m whisked down the tunnel. My head breaks the surface and I just barely get to suck in a new breath before I’m shoved under. Sharp turns bash me against the solid walls of the tunnel. The tunnel unexpectedly widens and I’m tossed onto the glorious surface of land.

I heave in a breath, but I start violently hacking, so I draw in shallow shaky breaths. The crushing sensation that I felt in my lungs and heart eases. I wait several more moments before feebly moving into a sitting position.

The river languidly slithers by. Oddly, my throat is parched. But I’ve had more water than I care for. A sweet scent drifts by my nose, along with several other less appealing scents. All my senses seem exceptionally keen now that I’ve shifted more than once.

I think I catch a whiff of peach, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I gingerly stand; tracing a finger along the gash stretching from my shoulder to about five inches down. It’s bleeding profusely, but it's already beginning to heal, enough so that I shouldn’t have to worry in a while. Lightly I touch the back of my head. It feels like there is a bump forming. I ignore the sharp pains and begin following the smell of peaches. I soon reach a small grove of peach trees.

My mouth starts watering with eagerness. I pluck one off a lower branch and sink my teeth in. My eyes flutter closed with pleasure as the richness washes over my taste buds.

Having stuffed myself with peaches and with the sun fully shining down, I feel lazy. Shoving away my desire to nap under a tree I head back to the river. I walk beside it until I reach a forest of bushes.

The trunks of the bushes are as tall as me, the abundant leaves on top blocking out most of the sun. The trunks are uneven and in the middle of every one there’s a large, circular bump. I nervously glance over my shoulder then head inside the bush forest; hopefully I’m the only one in here.

I have to lean down so the branches won’t snag my hair. I nearly jump out of my skin when a creature flits at the corner of my eye. I stifle the urge to call out “who’s there?” I try to hide in the shadows, the mermaid’s callous image fresh in my mind. The last thing I want to run into is another freaky, supposed to be non-existent creature.
Fox.
The shift is relatively smooth, the pain minimal so I barely register that it’s happening.

Another flicker at the corner of my eye make’s my fur stand on end. Nothing. I barely breathe a sigh of relief when a shadow shudders and turns into a coati. It has a reddish coat, rings of black down its tail, and a long snout. It almost looks like a raccoon but without the mask and cuter.

It’s no use trying to hide since its staring right at me, so I let out a low warning growl.

“You’re one odd looking fox,” she says.

I continue to keep my lips peeled even though the coati’s voice isn’t threatening.

“I’m Shiver, what’s your name?” I back up as she runs over and sits directly beneath my snout.

“What’s the matter? Pickers’ in your tongue?” Shiver teases. I stare at her. She must be awfully young.

“Well?” her voice is light, mischievous.

I’m unsure of what to do. Looks can be deceiving. She keeps staring at me with big eyes so I turn to leave.

“Redsun?”

“Huh?”

“Your name!”

I snort. “No. Are you following me?” I ask even though it’s obvious that she is.

“You could say that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the first animal I’ve seen in a while.”

If I’ve learned one thing about Pandorma, it’s that I should always have my guard up—even if she looks harmless. I sneak a peek at her, trying to judge what her real intentions could be. My muscles are tense, I’m ready to fight the minute she lunges. If she does.

“
Hmm.
Blackfoot?”

“What?”

“No? Ooh, how about Eruption!” she playfully rolls her eyes at my baffled look. “So am I right, Eruption? Sheesh you’re not the cleverest fox I’ve met. Actually I’ve never
met
a fox, but I’ve met a few other animals. I could count them on my paw I’ve met so few—”

I pin my ears back in annoyance as words tumble out of her.
“Hush! I can’t hear danger if you’re talking.”

“Sorry. I tend to ramble. I can’t help it. I never have
anyone
to talk to. They always run away or try to eat me or—right, danger,” she breaks off at a look from me. I study the little coati carefully for a minute. She radiates nothing but loneliness and an overabundance of excitement.

“Lissa,” I say.

“I’ve never heard of that name before.”

“So I would guess.”

“I was named after this place. I rarely venture away from here.” Shiver gives a little bounce.

“Which makes this Shiver Forest or something?” I ask. I wouldn’t call this a forest though; it’s just these bizarre bushes.

Shiver laughs. Her laugh is scratchy and is more like deep broken chuckles.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was named after the
tree.”
I try to hide my confusion but I’m too late.

“These trees,”
she says importantly as if it is her job to educate me on the things I don’t know. “Most creatures think they’re bushes but they’re actually tiny trees. Why do you think they’re called Shiver trees?”

Might as well confess before Shiver thinks I have no brain at all. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t come from here.”