Jonas Flash Chronicles: Whirlwinds

Jonas Flash Chronicles

Book Three

Whirlwinds

HEATHER CHOATE

Jonas Flash Chronicles

Book Three: Whirlwinds

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 by Heather Choate

Illustrations by Amy Choate

Cover Art by Aaron Hover

www.mountainsofstrength.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

For my son, Benjamin, who believes in impossible dreams.

Contents

Map of Four Kingdoms

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Preview of Jonas Flash Chronicles Book Four: Wisbren

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Map of Four Kingdoms

Chapter One

In this together

Why am I walking on the ceiling?

Jonas could see gray cement between the stones, a pattern like a thousand writhing snakes. His father’s chambers were below him. A fire burned low in the hearth, barely illuminating the room’s furnishing: a few bear-skin rugs, the great bed, and his mother’s portrait. But the chair by the fire was empty. Where could his father be?

Why am I on the ceiling? he wondered again. He felt a cold, airy energy inside him and was certain that he was using the element to hold himself up there. One of the window shutters knocked against the frame. Jonas turned. Chill wind blew in through the opening and rustled his hair, sending a shiver through him. Suddenly, Jonas remembered. Something had chased him in there. He eyed the dark space leading into the night. Something was out there.

Just then, a thick black cloud blew into the room. It whirled about the furniture, and fingers materialized from the vapor. They stretched out across the room, searching. Run! Jonas’s mind screamed. His feet flew across the ceiling, but he wasn’t fast enough. The cloud shot up at him. Two wet eyes and a mouth emerged from its depths. The tempest stared at him while wind whirled around it. Lightning flashed, striking a chair and setting it ablaze. Rain and ice pelted Jonas’s skin. Still, the tempest stared at him with dark, dripping eyes.

Who are you? Jonas screamed into the raging winds.

The tempest spread its whirlwind arms. Greatstorm! it bellowed. The hands closed in on Jonas. He tried to run again, but he lost hold of the energy keeping him aloft. His body writhed with pain so intense that he felt nothing else. His mind wasn’t capable of grasping any other sensation. He was pain. He’d always been pain, and it was all he’d ever be.

He lost hold of the ceiling and fell into the blackness.

He’s dying, isn’t he? Kib asked, his face like pale with concern for his friend.

Yes, Emma answered, wrapping a clean strip of cloth over the gash in Jonas’s side. The wound bled faster than she could tear new bandages off her dress. Bromar’s shades had borne them out of the Simmerlands and saved them from Demir’s vapor beasts, but they couldn’t save Jonas. She had to bear that horrible responsibility.

She also had to bear the guilt for Jonas being in such a terrible state. He had come to rescue her, but now she was unable to do the same for him. Siveran had torn into him right in front of her, and she’d done nothing. If she hadn’t summoned Bromar …

But she didn’t want to think about that. She had to get Jonas to a healer. Her brother’s skin had turned a sickly gray-blue. His lips where white and cracked. Angry red burns snaked down his neck and chest. He was barely breathing.

Emma could still hear Bromar’s warning to obtain the other heartcores before Demir. If she used her time helping Jonas, all could be lost. The conflict sickened her. Her hands started shaking so that she couldn’t finish fastening the bandage. The Fash Mountains loomed before her, a constant reminder of how far they were from any help. Jonas wasn’t going to make it.

Oh, Wisbren. What am I going to do?

Arista knelt beside her and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. You need to take him to the Lakedwellers. Her voice was firm, but calm. I’m sure Axel can find the way. It should only be a day’s flight from here, if you go over the pass. Kib and I will follow on foot.

Emma looked from her to Kib. She hated the idea of leaving them. But you don’t have horses, weapons—

We’ll be fine, Kib interrupted. Take Jonas, Emma. You have to do what’s best for him.

Isn’t that what I should have done all along? It was painful for her to admit it, but Emma never should have gone to the Simmerlands alone. Her mother had always told her that her greatest responsibility was to bear the moonstone, but Jonas was a part of her. They were in this together. He couldn’t let her go, and she wouldn’t let him go, either. She looked up at the burnt-orange sky. The horizon was darkening to a deep, dangerous navy. A greatstorm was coming. She imagined she could see her mother in the clouds above. I will bear the moonstone, she promised her. But I won’t do it alone. Eira may have been able to sacrifice everything for it, but if Emma let her brother die, nothing else would matter.

You’re willing to sacrifice the fate of an entire nation? her mother’s voice asked her.

Emma could feel her heart pounding, the metallic wind thrashing her hair, and the stinging lava burns on her skin. The moonstone was a cool and heavy weight against her chest.

Yes, she thought. Without those I love, what am I?

Her mother’s voice retreated into the recesses of her mind, as if too disappointed with her to speak.

Emma took a deep breath. She pictured Demir, racing toward the next heartcore on his vapor beast. She thought of Bromar trapped forever in his pit of fire, never to be freed. But the thought of laying Jonas in a grave was unbearable. She had to do this. Wisbren, speed our journey. She looked up at the darkening skies and kissed the moonstone.

Help me tie him onto Axel, she said. They had no supplies, but Kib fashioned some strong cords from reeds he wove together. After letting Axel drink from the cleanest stream they could find, they rested Jonas’s head onto Axel’s thick neck, and Kib tied the cords around Axel’s girth and chest until Jonas wasn’t in danger of sliding off.

Emma gave Arista and Kib a hug. We’ll see you soon, Arista said. Emma hoped it was true.

Stay safe, she said, then climbed onto Axel’s back behind Jonas. A small burgundy stain had already spread onto Axel’s left shoulder from Jonas’s wound. Let us get there in time, she prayed then gave Axel’s flank a pat. The spearhound spread his wings, beating them faster and faster as he ran over the plateau until they lifted into the air. Emma watched Kib and Arista become smaller and smaller below. They seemed so tiny. Axel gained altitude quickly, and soon she couldn’t see them at all.

Lightning flashed in the distance as Axel flew up to the lowest point in the mountain range.

Lead the way, Emma told him, trusting his keen senses. Axel was panting from the climb. Poor boy, she said, patting his side. You’ve done nothing but protect us, with nothing to eat and only ashy water to drink. I ask you to do the impossible, and you come through for me. But the gathering clouds to the west worried her. They must have worried Axel, too, because when he should have banked left toward the lowest pass, he turned right.

No, Axel, she corrected. We have to go left. We have to take the fastest way, even if it means facing a greatstorm.

Axel stubbornly kept flying away from the storm, but finally, Emma was able to convince him to turn into the pass. The sky above the white peaks was like a hungry black mouth. Axel whined.

It’s going to be okay, she said, trying to soothe him. We’ve just got to keep going. After already facing Siveran, Emma just hoped they wouldn’t run into Dithma tonight as well.

Within minutes, cold rain drops plopped onto her face. She wrapped her arms around Jonas’s body, trying to keep him warm. Lightning struck a peak to her right, and thunder clapped overhead, making her jump. The storm was on both sides of them now, like two giant waves ready to consume them. The only safe way was behind, back to Arista and Kib. Just fly low, Emma shouted over the wind, pressing Axel on. They passed over the peaks and into the thick of the range. Axel kept just above the tree-line to avoid the churning clouds.

Scattered raindrops turned into a downpour, and Emma and Jonas were instantly soaked. Thick pine forests passed below them. Emma considered finding shelter in the woods, but she remembered the rumors of blackburns inhabiting the mountain forests. It was we better to stay in the air.

Axel flew on through the night, doing his best to bank against the rain. He sniffed, turning left before circling back right. Finally, he hovered, beating his wings slowly to hold them mid-air.

You can’t find the way, can you? Emma said. She clutched Jonas to her. His body was cold and soaked. Angry, defeated tears streamed down her face. All right, let’s land and try to find a place to rest.

Axel set down in a small field that was white from fallen hail, and Emma hopped off, her limbs stiff from the cold. Through bleary eyes, she searched for any shelter, eventually finding a group of trees to their right. Shivering, she led Axel beneath the largest one. A thick bed of wet pine needles littered the ground, but the tree’s limbs had protected the spot from most of the hail. Emma did her best to wring the water from her sleeves before laying them back on her brother’s frozen body. She sank her head into Axel’s neck.

She’d tried, done her best, but it wasn’t enough. Jonas likely wouldn’t survive the night.

Emma’s teeth chattered, and the hair on her arms stood up. She couldn’t feel her fingers or feet as thin icicles formed in her hair.

I’m sorry, Jonas, she whispered.

She hung her head to her chest. The tip of her chin touched the moonstone. It didn’t seem fair that she would freeze to death on a mountain in a greatstorm. Just the day before, she’d been in the bowels of a volcano … Bromar! Emma grabbed the moonstone. Even in the dim light she could make out the white smoke spinning slowly beneath its surface—the stormdragon’s breath of fire.

Emma quickly gathered a bed of pine needles and small sticks. They were wet, but she hoped it would still work. She lifted the stone. As she did, it began pulsing with white light. She focused her thoughts on the kindling at her feet, willing them to catch fire. At first, nothing happened, but after a second, a thin trail of