Joshua and the Arrow Realm

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2016 by Donna Galanti

JOSHUA AND THE ARROW REALM by Donna Galanti All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9968904-9-6 ePUB ISBN: 978-1-945107-36-8 Mobi ISBN: 978-1-945107-37-5

Published by Tantrum Books for Month9Books, Raleigh, NC 27609

Cover Illustrated by Deranged Doctor Designs

Title designed by Victoria Faye

Cover designed by Najla Qamber.

Map illustrated by A. L. Sirois

To the real Joshua Cooper, as always.

… and when the Olympian heirs at long last act with goodness in their hearts, an Oracle will arise to restore their full power and shut down the Lightning Road forevermore …

“O
n your mark. Get set. Go!” We hurtled down the crusty ice-covered slope under a midnight moon. Charlie raced the faster sled, but I knew every dip and bump of this hill. I veered toward a ramp I'd made the day before he arrived from France and launched off it. He yelled a French curse at me and I laughed, now in the lead. The trees and creek disappeared. The fort Finn and I built last summer, before we got kidnapped to another world, was a white blob. I zoomed past it, picking up speed, and headed for the frozen pond at the bottom of the hill, wishing Finn were here with us too, but he was visiting his grandparents for winter break.

The star-studded sky hung over us, and the full moon reflected off the glittering snow before dashing behind rolling clouds. Light sleet slapped my cheeks. I skidded left and flipped over. Charlie grinned at me as he passed, his long legs trailing off the back of his sled. He rocketed
to the pond, spraying my face with snow. “
Au revoir,
Joshua!”

His black hair and red scarf flew up, a splash of color in the white tundra. I threw myself on my sled and raced after him. He was going to win! It was okay. I wanted to make every minute fun for Charlie because he was in a rough spot. His American dad got some fancy job in Boston and the whole family was moving here, but Charlie's younger brother and mom stayed behind in France for a few months to pack the house. For now, Charlie had to deal with his dad, a new school, and a new country. At least his dad thought it'd be good for him to hang with his one American friend over winter break since they just moved here. If Charlie needed cheering, he came to the right place. He was like a brother and brothers let each other win, didn't they?

A faint rumble groaned through the whistling wind.

Boom!

Thunder ripped the sky overhead.

Charlie reached the frozen pond, spinning across it. “Woohoo! I win! You Americans can't beat us at speed!”

Lightning flashed. It zinged across the pine trees like brilliant sunlight. A seed of terror flickered inside me.

Boom! Boom!

Another flash scorched the sky.

Charlie's smile fell to a frown as he raced across the ice, peering up into the swirling clouds.

We both knew what lightning could do.

Suddenly, sneaking outside for a moonlit sled ride before Bo Chez got home from his monthly poker game didn't seem so smart.

The sleet turned to snow. Icicles flew off trees like glass splinters, shattering on the hard snow. As I shot
toward the pond, a tree on the edge moved. Its branches swayed in the swirling snow.

It wasn't a tree, but a girl! She stumbled through the mad flurry, arms outstretched.

“Charlie, look!”

Gusts snatched the words away as my sled hit the ice and careened out of control on the bumpy surface. The girl staggered and fell onto the pond. I twisted my sled away to avoid hitting her and smashed right into Charlie. With a yelp, he pulled me up, and we clumped toward the girl. We lifted her up, half dragging her back up the hill to the house in the pelting snow and sleet.

“Who is she?” Charlie yelled.

“No idea,” I yelled back.

He said more, but his words were lost in the wind.

My lungs burned with the cold and effort. There was only one reason someone would appear with lightning—to steal us. This girl might appear like a waif unprepared for a storm but I couldn't trust that's all she was.

I considered leaving her out in the storm, but the inevitable guilt and wanting answers won out. Charlie wrenched the back door to the kitchen open, and we hauled Mystery Girl inside. The wind pummeled us with angry flakes as I pushed the door shut, leaving the arctic freeze behind. The girl slumped in our arms, and I lowered her down on a chair.

“Watch her,” I said, ripping off my gloves and hat. “And call Bo Chez!” I threw him the cordless phone and pointed at my grandfather's cell phone number on the fridge. Charlie nodded with a startled look as I ran into the dining room to grab Bo Chez's lightning orb from the case over the fireplace. It was the one weapon we'd kept from Nostos that worked on Earth. I'd used it before
to take the Child Collector down. I'd do it again.

My hands shook as they had almost five months ago when I'd taken the orb for the first time without knowing its power but needing it to help rescue my kidnapped friend, Finn. This time, I understood its power. It glowed blue in my shaking hand. I squeezed it hard then shoved it in my front snow pants pocket. Suddenly, I remembered Apollo's flute and Leandro's bow—gifts from my friends when I left the Lost Realm—and pulled them out from the cabinet of the built-in bookcase. They might come in handy too. I blew on the flute. A squeal piped out. I still had no enchanting musical power with it here on Earth, but the world of Nostos was another thing. I ran back into the kitchen with my stash.

“It went right to voicemail,” Charlie said in a shaky voice, placing the phone down. “
Mon Dieu
! What now?” He looked from me to the girl, who sat with her chin on her chest. I glanced at the stove clock:
9:42 p.m.
Bo Chez would be home by ten o'clock, and he was never late. He'd be in the car right now. Sometimes, he'd forget to take his phone off silent after playing cards. He'd be here soon. Now, we faced more trouble than just disobeying his orders not to go outside.

Thunder grumbled and stopped. A brief flare of lightning cut across the backyard. Were more strangers coming? I shoved aside the kitchen curtains and scanned the whiteout. The tops of the pine trees poked through the storm until a wall of snow shrouded them. A howl shrieked around the house. The predicted storm had hit early. The weather was always on my radar.

I listened for the sound of breaking glass from an unwelcome intruder but heard only the scratch of sleet on the kitchen windows and the steady tick-tock of the
clock. First, I had to know who this girl was and why she came here.

9:45 p.m. Be early, Bo Chez
!

“What do we do?” Charlie said.

Taking a deep breath and clutching the orb, I turned back to the girl.

She remained still with her head down. Charlie nudged her shoulder. With a gasp, she looked at us, her fierce expression making me step back. In the soft light over the sink, her long, wet hair appeared the color of dirty dishwater. A thick blade of hair escaped its wooden ponytail clasp and slashed down the side of her face. Her eyes shone like big emerald stones and were fixed on me. She gripped my arm, cold fingers pressing into my wrist.

“Hey!” Charlie tried to un-wrap her fingers but she held on.

“It's okay,” I said, pretty sure by now she wasn't a threat.

The girl looked older than me by five years, about seventeen, and as skinny as Charlie. She was dressed in snug pants and a tunic made of animal skin that fell above laced-up, fur-rimmed boots. Her right leg twitched, revealing the top of a knife glinting from a leg holder with a handle wrapped in an oily rag.

The girl shook her dripping hair, and a tangy smell of dying leaves and wet leather lifted from her. She leaned forward. Her suede satchel slid off her shoulder and down the arm of her baggy coat lined with buttons made from birch bark cut into ragged squares. A closer look at her lopsided clothes made me think they'd been cut from a crude pattern and unskillfully sewn with crooked black stitches.

One thing was certain. She wasn't from Earth.

T
he wind batted at the windows trying to get in with the snow. I turned on the floor lamp by Bo Chez's corner rocker.

“Joshua.” The girl's voice cut like rough timber.

She knew my name!

“Who are you?” I said.

She leaned closer, and her fingers eased off me. Drops of sweat ran down my back as the furnace kicked on, warm air clanking through the vents. I waited for her to speak.