Eight of Hearts: The Rift Blade - Book 1

Chapter 2

Bryce woke long before dawn due to jet lag. His living arrangement was only temporary, so he had no interest in slacking off in his routine. He shared a room with Jonas, which was uncomfortable at best. A large desk took up most of the room, and a sketch pad with various sketches and diagrams lay open on it. In the corner sat a seldom used bean bag chair, above which hung the only picture in the room: a portrait of the Taylor family.

His cousin's family didn't have all the gym equipment he was used to, so he decided to go for a run. The Texas heat was usually unbearable for Bryce, but these dark morning hours were pleasant. As he ran, he encountered several others who shared his enjoyment of adrenaline, and he soon found himself in an impromptu competition with another man as his morning exercise turned into a footrace. Bryce won, of course.

Jonas sat up in bed as Bryce returned, awakened by the heavy crashing and gasping from his careless cousin.

"I know you're on vacation, Bryce, but some of us have actual responsibilities." Jonas chided irritably. He glowered at the stench of sweat that permeated the room.

Bryce indicated the clock on the wall with a nod, "It's past seven already; any responsible person would be up and at 'em by now."

"Not on the weekend."

Jonas lay back down and turned his back, pulling the covers up tight under his chin. Bryce grinned at his cousin as he plopped noisily down on the bean bag chair and began soaking in the fatigue from his run.

Dawn's light was gently seeping in the north window, giving the room an eerie monotone hue. Shadows danced around the room, dashing close to the two forms, only to pull back at the last second.

Bryce focused on his pulse, pounding through his ears as his breathing gradually slowed. He felt a wave of dizziness rush through him as the room began to spin. The undulation of the shadows grew fast, matching the rhythm of the spinning room and the thudding sound in his ears.

"Ugh...I think I'm having a seizure." Bryce groaned, putting both hands to his eyes. His ears popped violently as the air pressure changed sharply. Bryce rolled from his seat to the floor as a wave of heat washed over him, and a bright light burned through his closed eyes.

"What the- augh!" A sudden mouthful of dust and sand sent Bryce into a coughing fit.

"Bryce?! What happened?" A concerned voice shouted.

That voice didn't belong to Jonas.

Bryce looked up, wiping grit from his face and blinking against the bright midday sun. Standing over him was a girl his age, her dark hair still sticking up on one side like she'd just been asleep. Her brown eyes mirrored the confusion Bryce felt as he tried to remember her name from when he'd met her years before.

"Shyla? What is going on here?!" Bryce's pulse raced again as he stood to take in his surroundings. "Where am I?! Where's Jonas?!" He almost didn't notice another girl standing near them, someone he didn't recognize.

Shyla raised her hands defensively, "Hey! Don't ask me! I was about to fix my hair when--"

"Teyew rewye! Shyewyen ouj teurai rewye!" The shout cut across their argument, and they turned to find the speaker silhouetted in the sunlight that seemed to shine from every direction.

He was old, yet powerfully built, and he wore a long hooded cloak made of a grey-dyed wool as protection from the sun. He smiled as he approached, his hands held out in welcome.

Bryce took a step back nervously. "Um...what did you say?"

Shyla recovered first, nodding to the strange man, "I don't think we speak your language, sir." she said.