Alaska Triangle
over icy mountain peaks, thick sprawling forests, and meandering rivers. The familiar route to Aningan typically lasted forty-five minutes if the weather cooperated like today.
That hadn’t been the case just two days earlier, on Friday. Jake shuddered as he recalled the unnatural events that had forced his disabled plane to spiral toward the ground.
It was an ordinary hot, steamy day and without chatty passengers aboard, Jake’s mind wandered. He was looking forward to meeting his buddy at Flanagan’s, an Irish pub known for great music, food, and the best stout in town. He’d met a cute girl last week and she’d promised to meet him again. He daydreamed, recalling her lips, her beautiful face, and her incredible body.
A thick bank of unusual clouds drifted from the east, filling the sky like undulating dark-gray earthworms. Storms were common this time of year, so Jake hadn’t worried, at first. But as Lola’s flight path nudged against the outer boundary of the Alaska Triangle, an expanse of air space known for snatching souls, Lola’s warning bells roused Jake from his daydream.
A thick blanket of clouds surrounded the plane, blocking the sun and the sky. Flying blind, he checked the instrument panel—dials spun crazily while the artificial horizon swung between high and low. His mind raced. Just minutes before, everything was fine, but, now nothing made sense. He turned the dials on the radio, which snapped and hissed in response. He gripped the control wheel and stared out the windshield looking for anything, but all he could see were dark clouds, murky and swirling, smothering the plane as he flew onward. Lola shuddered, colliding with a solid object, and Jake tumbled from his seat. Recovering, he gazed out the window, unnerved by what he saw. A pulsing blue light slithered through the clouds like a luminescent snake repeatedly striking the plane’s fuselage. The assault escalated with a continuous wave of energy pulses, muddling his mind with intense dizziness. He suddenly realized what was happening—a vortex had snatched the plane and was slowly reeling it in.
He’d heard many tales of vortices opening and swallowing everything and anybody within its reach. These rotating masses of energy were birthed along intersecting ley lines, and Alaska was covered with these magnetic areas. Lola convulsed, flying straight toward the swirling eddy of energy. She moved slowly toward the shimmering lights, hapless prey for the magnetic maw, while Jake fought to remain conscious against the disorientation and pressure building in the cabin. He refused to be another statistic, another pilot who simply went missing without a trace. If he was going to die today, it would be on his terms. The solution had to be just as absurd, just as drastic as the situation he faced—he turned off the engine. He reasoned that removing the energy source might weaken the vortex sufficiently, allowing him the chance to regain control by manipulating the element of air. But he had to act immediately. If he was successful, he’d have a great story to share with his buddy over a pint. If it didn’t work, nothing would matter anymore.
A sane person may have considered that action too severe, but Jake was no ordinary person.
Silence filled the cockpit, except for Jake’s strong and steady breathing as he focused on his next move. He strangled the yoke as Lola hung in the cloud bank illuminated by static charges sliding along her metal skin. The nose gently drifted up before tilting downward and dropping Lola like a boulder tumbling from a cliff. The force pulled at Jake as he braced himself against the seat and extended his arms. He closed his eyes and recited an ancient incantation his family had used for centuries. His arms rotated in opposite circles as he repeated the spell, circling faster and faster until the movement blurred, and his voice morphed into a vibrational hum like a million honeybees.
Gradually, Lola slowed her descent, and leveled off as Jake pushed his hands forward, guiding the plane away from the Alaska Triangle, beyond the vortex’s control. Using his mind, Jake restored power to Lola’s engine and the propeller roared to life.
He glanced out the window, relieved to see open water punctuated by spits of land. He recognized they were now somewhere over the Bering Sea, hundreds of miles off course and in the opposite direction from where they encountered the vortex. He gazed skyward, giving thanks to the ancient spirits for saving his life. He turned the plane around and set course for Anchorage where he could stop to refuel before heading to Aningan again. He took care to fly the western route this time, avoiding the Alaska Triangle altogether.
When the plane touched down in Aningan, six hours after the initial take off, Jake looked forward to sharing his story with his buddy but doubted his friend would believe him. Jake chuckled. I wouldn’t believe me, and I lived through it, he had thought.
Jake scrutinized the landscape for energy pulses and anomalies, vigilant for energy disturbances. The propeller’s continuous droning lulled Sammy to sleep just ten minutes after takeoff. “Happens every time,” Jake remarked as a low snore drifted from the back seat. “I swear, Sammy can sleep anywhere.”
Hilly studied the small man. Sammy’s head rested on one of the suitcases, his mouth agape like a fish gasping for air. He breathed deeply in and out, creating noises alternating between high whistles and low rattles. “He looks uncomfortable,” she noted.
“Mind if I ask you something?” Hilly took her time responding. Jake glared at her. “Well?”
“I was just wondering how I should answer you. It’s a loaded question.” She tapped her cheek with her finger, deep in thought.
“Never mind,” Jake sighed.
Sammy’s snorts punctuated a long awkward stillness. I wish you would just talk with me, Jake thought.
To his surprise, Hilly responded telepathically, I wish you would treat me with respect, and then I might talk with you.
They looked at each other.
Jake peeked at Sammy who snored happily against Hilly’s luggage, which was now soaked with drool. “It’s okay to talk. He won’t hear us.”
“You’re telepathic?” Hilly asked.
“Yeah, and apparently you are, too,” Jake responded. “I felt you trying to probe my mind back at the hangar.”
Hilly blushed. “I’m kinda new at this…three months to be exact. Besides my brothers and sister, I’ve never encountered another person who had special gifts. Are you part of an ancient family and tribe?”
Jake grinned. He envied this woman for her strength and also pitied her because she knew nothing about her abilities. It was like watching a baby walk for the first time. “You’ve only been practicing for three months? Where have you been…living in a cave? What about your elders? Your shamans? Your teachers? How did you get to be this age and not know about your gifts?”
Hilly turned away and stared out the window. Wounded by his questions, a deep sorrow filled her heart. Jake’s questions re-opened scars from when she was ten years old. Her psychic abilities were completely natural to her as a child, and her mother, Freda, encouraged her to practice them, but only if it was with family members. She had explained that others might not understand her actions.
Hilly had obeyed her mother, but on a day, almost forty years ago, a dear friend was tortured by a bully and Hilly wanted to even the odds. Natasha was feared by all the younger kids at school. She was a known bully who would stop at nothing to make others cry. She delighted in breaking the spirits of people who appeared different whether it was height, weight, hair color or she simply didn’t like them, which applied to nearly everybody.
On this day, Natasha had targeted Hilly’s close friend, Nathan, a shy boy who shared Hilly’s love of nature. Studious and nonathletic, Nathan preferred books and music. He was calm and happy when he read, danced, or walked in the woods. But in the lunchroom, the chaotic noise and bullies like Natasha overwhelmed his senses and he often shut down, speaking to no one and eating like a mouse—attempting to appear small and insignificant while sneaking little bites of food into his mouth.
But, this time, Natasha went too far, sniping around him hunting for ways to upset him. “Look at the baby,” she jeered. Tears welled in Nathan’s eyes. His reaction spurred Natasha to continue. “Do you need to be spoon fed, little baby?”
Nathan stared at his food, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.
Hilly had enough of the tormentor. She stood across the table and screamed, “Leave him alone, Natasha! Get out of here and leave us both alone!”
Natasha stood her ground and smirked at Nathan. “What a baby, you can’t even stand up for yourself, You have to get your babysitter to do your talking!” Nathan looked at Hilly with tears rolling down his cheeks.
Hilly couldn’t bear to see anyone cry, much less her best friend. What she said next quieted the lunchroom. “Stop or I’ll make you stop!”
“Oh, really? And, what are you going to do about it?” Natasha taunted as she pushed Nathan’s milk carton off the tray causing it to tumble into his lap, soaking his pants. “Look at the idiot,” she proclaimed to the lunchroom. “He’s just peed his pants!”
Hilly ran to the other side of the table, arms raised, hands outstretched as if to strangle her adversary. She summoned her power, despite her mother’s warning, and threw a psychic blast toward Natasha, propelling her across the room and slamming her against the far wall.
The fury that had built inside Hilly vented its raw and unchecked emotions directly onto Natasha, and she dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap.
The lunchroom grew quiet. It was the type of stillness that follows an event so heinous that spectators have no words for what they’ve just witnessed. Nathan stared at the crumpled Natasha and grinned, a smile that only those who have finally witnessed justice understand. Then he turned to Hilly, her hands blood-red, steaming, and still extended toward the wall in the event the bully should arise and try to strike again. He grabbed Hilly’s arm, yanking her toward the door as speechless onlookers pointed at the bizarre girl and her friend. Almost forty years had passed, and the incident was as fresh as if it occurred yesterday.
“I’ve lost you. Did I say something wrong?” Hilly refused to look at him. What happened? What did I say? he mentally messaged.
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. I’d rather not talk about it.
After all these years, she had finally found someone like herself. Her joy at finding a kindred spirit deteriorated into a deep sadness. Because, unlike her upbringing, Jake had flourished under the support of his tribe, knowledgeable and caring individuals who had nurtured him and encouraged him since he was a child. Jake was part of a family that had taught him the ancient traditions and instructed him about the magical ways, which were now second nature to him. Finding Jake was exciting, but she felt jealousy toward the life he lived and bitterness toward her parents for cloaking her memories until Darrius restored them.
She felt lost and alone. She yearned to have Curtis hold her. She wished Darrius was near to advise her, and she longed for her siblings’ comfort and encouragement.
“Hilly, tell me how I hurt you. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m not used to meeting magicians from other lands and other families. I didn’t know they did things differently.” Jake gently took her chin and looked into her eyes. His blue eyes sparkled and swirled with flashes of violet dancing in the pupils. Hilly immediately thought of Darrius and Prasad, and how they had mesmerized her family with their beautiful emerald eyes when they first arrived at The Nine Muses.
“I know what you’re doing and you’re not going to trance me.”
“That obvious?” he teased.
Hilly noticed Jake’s hands were no longer on the control wheel, and he hadn’t been flying the plane for many minutes. “Oh, my god! Who’s flying the plane?” Sammy snorted loudly and mumbled as he shifted his weight to the other suitcase, falling into another rhythmic snore.
“Shh.” Jake held his finger to his lips. “Don’t wake sleeping beauty. Lola’s in command. But she’s not on cruise control.”
Hilly looked at Jake, eyes wide. “Lola is your spirit companion?”
Jake ran his hand along the dashboard and a soothing vibration emanated from all around the cabin as the plane hummed a greeting. “Lola is my familiar spirit. Or, as you referenced it, spirit companion, magical partner, or whatever you prefer. She is the ethereal being who partnered with me several years ago and protects me. And I’ll do anything to defend her.”
Hilly nodded. “Raven is my constant companion. She’s already saved my life once. She bears the symbols of my family—suns and dragons.
“You’re a firewalker?” Jake had heard legends about ancestors who possessed the power to manipulate the sun and light, to open and close portals, and to control fire. But these were tales shared around campfires. There hadn’t been firewalkers in his family for decades, ever since Stygian and his Yfel Brethren killed them all. The elders spoke of one soul who rose into the sky to escape the Yfel that night. Jake always figured they were describing a person who died and joined the other spirits in the heavens, but now he wondered if the elders meant someone had escaped. He stared at Hilly. Was this woman sitting next to him that soul who escaped the massacre? If his suspicions were true, this knowledge could change his life and the lives of his family, forever. “You can control the element of fire?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“I thought that was obvious.” He chuckled, “I work with the element of air,” he said as he swept his arms wide.
When Hilly left Pilot Mountain for Alaska, she hoped to discover the roots of her ancient family. She never dreamed she would stumble upon other individuals who had the same abilities as she and her siblings. She couldn’t wait to share the news with her brothers and sister.
“What about Sammy? Does he possess magical abilities?”
Jake glanced into the back seat, finding Sammy curled up in a fetal position, softly snoring. “You know, that’s a great question. We’re members of the same tribe but I don’t know if he has any gifts or represents an elemental family like us. If he does possess magic, he’s never used it around me. He’s always been my gopher, my buddy…”
Lola’s nose dipped suddenly and Jake grabbed the yoke. “Looks like we’re making our approach to Aningan.”
“Can Lola land without your help?”
“Absolutely, but how weird would that look to the control tower? I want to keep our relationship a secret from those I don’t know.” He grinned. “So, I guess that means you’ve gained entrance into my circle of trust.” Hilly liked the sound of that, and her sadness lifted. She now had a second family of sorts and looked forward to learning more about Jake and his relatives.
Lola swept by the control tower and Jake waved. “It’s all for show, but I look forward to the day when Lola flies by and nobody is at the controls.” He laughed. It was obvious he adored his relationship with Lola.
The plane landed and taxied to a small hangar on the edge of the field. “Sammy, wake up!” Jake barked.
With a loud snort, Sammy bolted forward only to be yanked back by the seatbelt. “What…OW…what’s going on?”
“We’re in Aningan, Sammy. We need to get Hilly to Uncle Aaron so she can get her key. And then you need to drive her out to the cabin.”
“Isn’t there someone else who can drive me? I’m sure Sammy is too tired—,” Hilly protested.
“No problem at all,” Sammy interrupted. “I got a great sleep back here and am raring to go.”
The last thing Hilly wanted was to travel with Sammy again. His driving left a lot to be desired, and she didn’t relish being with him when the next accident happened. “Great!” she lied, stepping out of the plane and stretching. She walked along the tarmac, surveying the area, and watching bald eagles circle overhead while Jake helped Sammy unload Lola.
“Jake, I’ve got something to tell you,” Sammy whispered.
Jake batted him away. “Sammy, stop spitting in my ear. Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want Hilly to hear us.”
Jake glanced out the windshield, watching Hilly stroll across the tarmac while looking at the scenery. “She’s almost thirty feet away. She wouldn’t be able to hear you fart.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Sammy teased with a twinkle in his eye. “But seriously, do you remember I wanted to talk to you before we took off?”
“Yeah, I remember. What about?”
“That sword of hers. It’s not your normal slice-and-dice weapon. I think it’s alive, like a pet or something.”
Jake stopped moving the luggage and stared at Sammy, “What do you mean?”
Sammy looked out the window, keeping an eye on Hilly. “When I stowed it away, it felt light, like a plastic sword. I wanted to check it out, so I pulled back the sheath and looked at it. Jake, it doesn’t look like the steel swords we’ve seen at the festivals.”
“Go on.”
“The blade is translucent and shimmers, oily-like. It’s got all these jewels stuck in the handle and there are suns and lizard creatures on the blade. I touched the blade and the damn thing bit me!”
“Bit you? It’s got teeth?” Jake stifled his chuckle.
“Nah, but it felt like it nipped me. It was like a shower of sparks or static electricity.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, she’s got something spooky in that case. Want to see it?”
As much as Jake wanted to see Raven, he resisted the temptation and waved Sammy off. “That’s okay, Sammy. It’s her business, not ours. You’re better off not sticking your fingers where they shouldn’t be in the first place. You know you always get burned. Remember the chainsaw incident when you borrowed your neighbor’s gas chainsaw without his permission?”
Sammy stared at his right hand, recalling the day his fingers were sheared off. “Yeah, but that sword is weird. I’m going to keep my eyes on this woman for sure.”
Hilly appeared in the doorway. “You remember that I want to unload my backpack and scabbard, right guys?”
“Absolutely,” Jake declared as he threw a tote at Sammy knocking him backwards onto the tarmac. Grabbing the other suitcase, Jake jumped down and motioned for Hilly to climb in. “The plane is all yours, Ms. Kemp.”
She climbed in and touched Raven who vibrated a warm greeting. Grabbing her backpack, Hilly cradled the sword and leapt from the plane.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to Uncle Aaron,” Sammy said pointing to a faded powder-blue station wagon. Faux wood panels peeled away from the sides of the vintage Chevy that displayed similar rust spots to Old Val.
Hilly gulped. “Sammy, do you have any newer cars?”
“Ms. Hilly, Stella runs like a charm. She’s different than Old Val,” Sammy boasted. “Stella’s got a lot of speed for her age.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hilly said under her breath.
“Look, Miss Hilly,” Sammy directed as he strolled around Stella and pointed out her other fine features. “Almost new tires, comfortable seats, and she even has seat belts!”
Hilly sighed and glanced at Jake who shrugged. “Don’t fight it. He’s the best gig in town for getting you to Uncle Aaron.” Turning to Sammy, Jake continued, “I’ll bum a ride into town. I need to go to the office and get caught up on my paperwork.”
“Perfect!” Sammy said as he pushed the luggage into the hatch. Hilly yanked the back door open and carefully placed Raven and her backpack onto the seat before sliding in. “Don’t you want to ride shotgun?” Sammy asked.
Before Hilly could respond, Jake blurted, “I already called it. You know I like riding up front so I can keep an eye on the road. One of us needs to.” They both laughed, and Sammy punched Jake in the arm.
Jake shot Hilly a side glance. I figured you could use a break from Sammy, he mentally messaged.
Thanks. I owe you one! she replied.