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Chapter 1
The sky was a solid, perfect blue, and the sea rippled and writhed below Jori’s little plane. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sun’s intense brilliance on his face. Another glorious morning out over the Atlantic Ocean, flying in the general direction of Bermuda.
After setting the autopilot, and retrieving his phone from his pocket, he thumbed through icons till he found his streaming app, clipped it to the brace attached to the instrument panel next to an old photo, and began the live stream.
“Hey folks, Jori Mountainside here, checking in with a short video log while en route toward Bermuda.” He relayed the date and coordinates then the events of the day and night before. “My buddy Carlos has a sick kid at home and couldn’t make the trip with me. I’ve got a schedule to keep, so here I am flying solo in my trusty old Cessna, hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary Beast of the Bermuda Triangle. If not, well maybe I’ll find some friendly locals willing to share a beer and some local folk tales with me.” He grinned. “I’ll upload all the footage I can snag, and I want to thank all of you for your support and patronage—it means a lot.” With a quick glance at his indicators and gages he said “I’ll wrap it up here, since flying into a bird at this point would be tragic and making it home intact is always my goal, so I’ll catch you all later. Peace.”
Ending the recording, he checked his navigation equipment and course settings. The ocean was as vast as the sky and there was nothing otherwise visible.
He’d left Charleston with his nose pointing east, in the little Cessna he’d inherited from his mother, riding every lurch and roll of the air currents. The forecast was expected to be clear and still for days.
The Bermuda Triangle adventure was a first. He’d done the mountaineering thing, the Amazon treks and even the desert caravans. This one.... This one was dedicated to his mother.
He was out here with minimal equipment—storage space was limited, and a man did have to eat, after all. Spare batteries and solar panels powered his laptop, video and communications equipment. He had reserve gas for the generator in case of emergency, but he was determined to rely only on the power of wind and sun where possible.
This particular project, he hoped, would be the big one that brought him the recognition his father was waiting for. He certainly wasn’t impressed with his achievements to date.
It didn’t matter that he had thousands following his video channel, or various social media platforms with impressive funding subscriptions. It was due to these supporters that he was exactly where he was out in his little plane over the vast Atlantic Ocean. And he was determined not to let them down.
Maybe he should have held back the trip till Carlos could fly with him.
What difference did it really make? A second person in the cockpit couldn’t really do much. If he was going to run into trouble, better Carlos wasn’t part of it; after all, he did have a kid at home.
Every time he did one of these journeys, the doubt set in about mid-way to the target destination. That’s how he knew he was getting closer.
“Alright Ma, let’s find those beasties you used to tell me about.” He passed a hand over the colorful abstract tattoo on his forearm and glanced at her picture taped to the control panel next to his phone. When he was alone, he talked to his mother like she was next to him. He hadn’t seen her in almost two decades—since she mysteriously disappeared, but he kept her close. It seemed the longer and tighter he tried to hang on to her fading voice, the stronger and louder his father’s became. Telling him he was wasting his life chasing myths instead of finishing his degree.
“Maybe I’ll find myself a little island woman and settle down among the palm trees, drinking from coconuts.”
He sighed and turned to observe a different slice of the open ocean. Nothing to do but stare and think.
Of course, he questioned the sanity of his adventures, especially went he went out alone. He was determined to do it, regardless, and frankly, despite his father’s misgivings, he was doing just fine. The documentaries were popular and once the books were put together, they’d sell, too. They always did.
“I get his perspective.” The old way of doing things. “Go to school, get your education, work,” he grumbled. There wasn’t much room in between. Adventures were vacations.
“I can’t be a tenured professor like him, Ma.” he shuddered at the thought of being confined to stale classrooms day after day, trapped inside, unable to see the open sky and stars. Rolling his shoulders, he reached for his phone and turned on the music app, making sure it was loud enough to drown out his thoughts.
He was making good time, the winds were steady, some white caps curling on wave tips below him.
During a rather impressive chorus rendition, the music stuttered and failed, leaving him alone with his voice over the empty ocean. Checking the phone, the screen flickered several times, then seemed to freeze. None of the apps would open, nor could he restart the phone. “Damn.” Movement on the control panel pulled his attention. The navigation indicators were also failing, as was the communications equipment when he tried to radio out.
He suddenly wondered if maybe he really should have set aside his nostalgia and updated his mother’s vintage Cessna.
Without the equipment, he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t overshoot the little island of Bermuda.
“Shit.”
Opening the steel lock box bolted to the floor between the seats, he pulled out the manual compass he always traveled with. The needle spun.
“Fuck.”
Magic flowed around Kymri as her dragon form replaced her human body. She launched into the sky, starting her next shift on patrol. As guardian commander, she was devoted to her duty, ensuring the safety of her queen and people.
The air was thick with the scent of storm and the increased winds challenged the strength of her wings.
Good. She needed to burn off her anger.
Flexing her wings with a grunt, she adjusted her tilt, soaring over the open ocean.
