Fire Whispers Among the Shadows: Book One of The Brimstone Archives Read online

  Fire Whispers Among the Shadows

  Book One of The Brimstone Archives

  R. A. Cooper

  Copyright © 2020 by R. A. Cooper

  Fire Whispers Among the Shadows: Book One of The Brimstone Archives

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Joel Pierson

  Ryan Schwarz, The Cover Designer, www.thecoverdesigner.com

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020923408

  Published in Round Rock, Texas, USA

  ISBN 978-1-7362138-0-3 (ebook)

  ISBN 978-1-7362138-1-0 (paperback)

  www.racooper.com

  To those who dance among the wildflowers,

  be the sunflower.

  Character Profiles

  Sign up here to access a bonus profile sheet on key characters!

  Also visit www.racooper.com for more.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Thank you for reading!

  Interested in More?

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by R. A. Cooper

  Chapter 1

  Aiesha leaped forward, reaching out her paws for Cee as the mist of swirling gray bodies engulfed him. His face grimaced with terror. She cried out as her paws only wafted the misty image. Cee was untouchable. No matter how hard she tried to save him, the metamorphs would take him away for long periods of time. By now, her tears no longer formed.

  “I think you scared our grub away,” said Leirgab as he watched the caterpillars wriggle under a downed fern frond from beyond his pointed snout. He looked up at her expressionless face as his quills slid by hanging vines. “You okay?”

  Her deep sea-blue hair flowed behind her with a light breeze. She responded with a soft-spoken voice as she stared in the distance. “Yeah, thought I saw a spider.” She had never told anyone about Cee, even as she grew older. There was no simple way to explain what she saw. For most of her upbringing, she thought Cee was an imaginary friend, one who aged the same rate as she. He looked like no other creature she had seen. He was not a feline like her, not a bird or a rodent. He had no fur on his smooth, olive-colored skin, only a patch of thick, dark-brown hair that flounced atop of his head when he ran. His body was of a slender build. He referred to his long, extended digits as fingers, and his paws were known as hands and feet. He called himself human.

  They would talk to each other and share their secrets. But every so often, the metamorphs would surround him with their torment and pull him away from her. He never spoke of what they did to him, but he always appeared distressed and somber for some time after returning. To all, the metamorphs were considered an ancient legend. And no living creature among the lands had seen them before. It was considered folklore, passed on to each of the young to keep them well behaved.

  Aiesha’s long, thin ears perked up. She heard something lurking toward them in the jungle. Leirgab crouched down, curious with fear; his hedgehog quills quivered a twinge of sweat off his back. Together, they peered through the lush jungle leaves in dim evening light. “The sound is moving faster this way,” said Aiesha in a hushed voice. Hearts were beating fast in an uncanny harmony. Leirgab took one last inhaled breath as the creatures appeared past the twisted vine bridge.

  Large, black talons dragged across the bridge. The creature inhaled the lingering scent on the railings and snorted. Its jagged, dark plume rose and collapsed like thunder. Dust clouded the jungle floor and seeped into Leirgab’s nostrils. He choked back a sneeze.

  The strongest of all the looming creatures growled as he said, “They’re not far.”

  Aiesha’s gemstone collar glowed cerulean blue. That was when she knew. Leirgab gave her a look of disbelief. “Not now.”

  She closed her eyes and visualized the puffy, marshmallow skies from faraway. Instantly, she and Leirgab transported to her vision, with Leirgab’s boots tucked inward as he transformed his body into a ball.

  “I had to … and of course this was the only place …”

  “Ughfff …” grumbled Leirgab as he unrolled his body, interrupting Aiesha. “Really, though? You had to take us to Puunlo’s Paradise?” The bamboo chimes, coconut drums, and strings of music danced across the skies.

  Puunlo glided in with his vibrant cloak swirling behind his every swift move as he bellowed, “Ahhh, Puunlo loooves when his famed dansoooers return.” His bright eyes smiled as Leirgab’s glared in annoyance at Aiesha.

  Aiesha pawed Leirgab’s quill-covered back, urging him forward, whispering in his ear, “We’ve got to figure this out first.”

  Puunlo flitted in the air, clapping his feet. He continued speaking in his typical exotic accent, exaggerating the vowels. “Come on. Let’s rejoice over some grub and drink.”

  They pounced their way through the crowds and dancing showbees, arriving at a thatched hut. Aiesha jumped onto a wooden stool, while Leirgab climbed his way up onto another one, leaning over the edge of the table. Puunlo admiringly sat in his oversized quilted chair. He waved his large wing at his servants while guzzling a spiced moray, liquid splashing out of his enormous beak.

  Aiesha said, “We’re only here temporarily, Puunlo. We have our—”

  Puunlo cut in. “Hodgepodge, you will stay for the festivities. Then, if you must, … depart as the horizon lights up from the fall of the fourth night.”

  Aiesha’s lip tightened, and her long tail flicked to the side.

  The servants glided by the table, laying out a feast of delicacies. Spiced moray, garnished tetra, tinted calamari, oolong leaves with crumbled coconut, and more tantalizing dishes swaying along the servants’ hips. Leirgab gulped his mug of slosh with crystallized caterpillars. Drinking and eating came easy to him, gradually over the years, but even more so when he lost his love while in Paradise.

  “We appreciate the hospitality,” Aiesha said as she sipped a cup of termite tea.

  Puunlo beckoned, “Well, we must have a celebration … a special dance party, perhaps? Gandooor!”

  Gander scuttled in from behind closed curtains. “Yes, Bastion Puunlo, how may I assist?”

  “There will be a show during the full moons tomorrow. Ensure this happens.”

  Leirgab chugged more slosh, a caterpillar sliding down his throat. A memory of a few years back crept into his mind, when he was only a young hedge-lad. His quills sparkled with rainbow gold as he twirled across the stage. The triple sun shined upon them as his dance partner, Aiesha, a graceful catlike figure, glided toward him, entrancing the audience. Their dance was harmonious, despite his burly build.

&n
bsp; He only became a decent dancer, quick on his feet, during his prepubescent days, when he dodged lasers for his life. Back then, his land was in a world of turmoil. Orphaned. His mother’s clasping hug released him as talons grappled her from his arms. His last memory was her auburn scarf flowing from her neck. He was only four years old, but the image remained vivid. His father was only a distant figure, given his battles with the war. Leirgab had still admired his renegade father. But his father only returned once after Leirgab’s mother disappeared. Alone, with no other family. Family friends, at least what they considered as friends, left him desolate as they escaped the land.

  “Choook hoook hoook,” chortled Puunlo, breaking Leirgab’s reminiscence.

  Aiesha flicked her tail. “Well, I’m glad someone thought it was funny,” said Aiesha, who appeared to be referencing one of her first dance practices, when she stumbled flat on her face.

  “And look at what an amazing dancer you became—my star child of the night,” said Puunlo in an apologetic tone. “Why, you and Leirgab must dance once more before you leave me again.”

  Leirgab, immediately sarcastic, responded, “Why sure, Puunlo, maybe we can watch Aiesha on a swirling trapeze across the stage after I dive down from above.”

  “Perfect, you still have the artistic vision,” Puunlo said, unaware of the intended sarcasm. “I expect this in your routine.”

  Aiesha was not one to maintain a poker face, especially when it came to Leirgab’s inconvenient doling. “Yes, a fantastic idea, Leirgab. If only I would have thought of that. Perhaps you should add more flair to your costume … hmmm … shiny tights with feathers, since you will be flying in from the sky.”

  “Gandooor!”

  Gander scuttled in again from behind closed curtains. “Yes, Bastion Puunlo, how may I assist?”

  “Costumes must be made for our guests, for the show in two nights.”

  “Yes, Bastion Puunlo,” Gander said, scampering away.

  Aiesha saw Cee sitting across from them in the lounge. His two extended fingers danced in the air as his hand glided in a rhythmic pattern. Aiesha smiled and nodded in his direction. Cee was the one who had encouraged her to dance, and she had continued this as a passion, since it seemed to bring them both enjoyment. It was an escape from all the bad that occurred, the metamorphs and the downfall of governances. As she finished her standard school, Cee showed her a parchment of Puunlo’s Paradise, where the most prestigious dance academy was held. Since she was the only female in her family, a little spoiled perhaps, it did not take much for her parents to agree that she follow her dream.

  Later that night in their guest hut, Leirgab was passed out on one of the feathered beds. Aiesha’s mind raced, deciphering the reason Jags were searching the jungle. Until now, she was fortunate to not have seen a Jag up close. The Jags were massive creatures with masculine lion bodies and heads, though their legs ended with the talons of a bird, and their backs bore great feathered wings. Her thoughts turned to Cee. There seemed to be a connection between him and the Jags. It was the increased presence of the Jags among the lands when the metamorphs started to attack Cee.

  “Where are you Cee? I could use your help,” she said aloud. Who are the Jags after? she continued to ponder. Leirgab’s whistling snore disrupted her thoughts once again. After pacing for what seemed like hours, she decided she needed a nightcap to help her sleep.

  She tiptoed out the door, despite knowing that nothing would wake Leirgab from his sloshed slumber. The dawn of the first of four suns peered in the distant horizon as the moons stretched overhead. She walked toward the closest watering hole, passing by costumed dancers and estranged visitors sprawled across pallets under the open sky.

  Puunlo’s Paradise was not a place where creatures escaped a mother’s womb. No one desired to birth their infant in such a promiscuous land. Rather, it was a place of conception, where lovers hid away, but also the land where the greats developed in their later years. Paradise was a place that started something that would become greater. Perhaps this was why it held the most elite dance academy. Puunlo was about greatness, and establishing that raised his pedestal to further heights, no matter the cost. Another thing that made Puunlo’s Paradise so grand was the fact that there was rarely any crime, let alone signs of war, as was such in many other lands. A part of her missed the dancing Paradise, exotic visitors, and relative calmness. That was why her vision was so strong, allowing them to quickly escape the Jags.

  After strolling some distance in the dim moonlight, she arrived, requesting a fiery nightcap, and lounged on a feathered chaise. Her thoughts returned to the image of the Jag’s black plume, reminding her of a past dancing costume. How was it that something so dark and ominous could be associated with something so pleasant? She sipped her drink pondering. And now, I have to spend my time choreographing some dance, thanks to Sarcastic Sabol, it will have to be fancy. Her frustration increased as she said, “Who does he think he is? I can’t believe we’ve stuck together so long!” She realized she spoke out loud as a snoring guest startled, looked up, and then turned over. Another sip. She knew the real reason that she and Leirgab traveled everywhere—they had two things in common: dance and death.

  Her eyes drifted asleep.

  Aiesha’s gemstone collar glowed orange. Blue flames sparked from her paws. Ravenous hunters drove hordes of meladrones down the hill toward her. She began sweating, the flames flickered with every bead of sweat. She had no choice; there was nowhere to run or hide. She wanted to charge, imagining her blue flames engulfing the hunters and meladrones, but she was frozen. Unable to move, her heart raced, more perspiration, flames weakening with each yellow-eyed stare. The hunters whooped and hollered, hurtling faster …

  “Chook,” Aiesha jumped to her feet, sweat dripping from her face as she heard Puunlo’s laughter in the distance. “Hook hook,” his laugh echoed. Anyone would know it was him with his distinct vocal calls.

  She suddenly realized that she had slept way past the rise of the fourth sun. Drenched, she hurried through the now-filled lounge chairs and past multiple visitors giggling to themselves. The sky, a mesmerizing golden yellow hue, stretched seemingly unending.

  She rushed into the guest hut, letting the door slam shut. Glancing around, she saw Leirgab was gone. Probably searching for some grub, she thought. She was quick to undress and stepped under the running water hoses. Chilled, she grabbed a feathered towel and dabbed the water beads from her slender body, full face, and long ears. Somewhat refreshed, she gathered clothes provided in the guest closet, flamboyant but clean.

  Leirgab had awakened to an empty hut, growling stomach, and full body ache. “Too many calatyzed capartillers,” he said, stumbling over his own words. His quills snagged feathers from the pallet as he rolled off. He did not bother removing them.

  He swayed out of the hut, down the village path, the fourth sun starting to rise above the horizon. Arriving at a large building, he sat down at the end of an oblong wooden table. A crest resembling Bastion Puunlo embellished the center.

  A servant in red stepped up to him, silently waiting for orders. “Two caped pears, swirled slug on toast, and blackened ‘chovies. Ohhhh, definitely need a mug of raincloud to keep me on my feet,” he said as he rested his pointed snout in between his paws.

  “Yes, Grandeur,” said the servant, who turned quickly, proceeding to the kitchen.

  It was not long before his mug and platters arrived. He dug his paws in, slurping and licking the swirled slug jelly from his long, pointed nose. A swish of the raincloud relieved his body aches. As he raised his platter to lick the edges, the servant reappeared, waiting for another request. “Another round of it all,” he said with blushed cheeks.

  “You’re sure really going all out,” Leirgab said as he watched Aiesha approach the table. She rolled her eyes and swiftly turned, near enough to slap feathers in his face from her new fashioned dress. She slid out the chair and plopped down, feathers flying loose into the air.

 
“I can see you managed to find yourself into old habits as well,” said Aiesha with a smirk.

  A servant in red already awaited her order. “Iced milkweed and a bowl of pomfruit.”

  The servant started to turn, but Leirgab called out, “Oh, and one more raincloud for me.”

  Aiesha whispered to Leirgab, “We need to figure out who the Jags were after. There is something serious happening out there,” her dream fresh in her mind.

  “I wish you wouldn’t have transported us so quickly. Maybe we could have overheard them talking,” Leirgab said with furrowed brows.

  “No, it was too risky. They were so close. You know that.”

  “I wonder if any visitors here would have seen or heard of anything,” said Leirgab as he eyed the other guests. A snarly, snaggle-toothed stranger stooped in the corner, cloaked by the shadows, and twisted a dagger on the tip of his finger. A mug of slosh sat untouched on his table. Leirgab’s gaze stopped short. “Well, if anyone would know, it’s probably that spook over there that’s let his slosh turn sour.”

  “No, the one to the left. The overdressed couple in matching costumes. Their faces look slightly frightened.” The couple, one with long, fluffy ears and a flattened face, the other with slim antennas and velvet eyes, whispered between themselves.

  Leirgab glanced over. “Perhaps. They are a little hunkered down together. Definitely too close for the amount of heat those costumes are producing. How are they even breathing? You can barely see their mouths, let alone their faces among the outlandish feathers furrowed up by their poufy hoods.”