The Flayer and the Weaver Book 1

The Flayer and the Weaver Chapter 1

**** Authors note: To my fans, this is a rewrite of A Touch Of Lightning. ATOL will be split into three books, with the goal to clean up the story timing, pacing, and cohesiveness. It will stay relatively true to ATOL, but there will be lots of new insights and events that define who Callin is, and what the labs are really after.

THANKS ALL!!! I couldn't rewrite this story as much as I have if not for your support!****

The Flayer and the Weaver

Chapter 1

The mountain air was clear, a crisp edge lazily sifting through the fir trees. Callin paused to sniff that breeze, his eyes closed and his head back as he sorted through the wondrous tapestry of images and emotions woven into those myriad scents. Carl, his twin brother, was up ahead, racing through the silent trees, on the path towards their favorite swimming hole. Callin knew Carl would tease him for being slow, but Carl didn't seem to be able to smell the sheer magic that rode on the springtime air.

"Almost there, slowpoke!" Carl's laughing voice, faint through the trees, reached Callin's ears.

He tensed, getting ready to sprint after his brother, when a new, unusual scent traced by his nose for an instant. He stopped, holding himself perfectly still, as he carefully sorted through the river of scents. It was gone. He turned in circles, eyes shut, concentrating only on the scents in the air, but he still could catch no trace of it.

That was one of the most frustrating things about having such a sensitive nose. The world of scents was utterly fascinating, with depthless secrets drifting free, there to be understood if only he would take the time to sort through them. But when they just hinted at something, then disappeared, it was beyond frustrating. It felt like trying to hold on to a dream you were really enjoying but could feel slipping past your thoughts as you woke up.

He growled in frustration, deciding to ignore it, then threw himself after his brother, racing down the little trail towards their swimming spot. It wasn't uncommon for him to scent new things every time they went running through the mountain trails.

"What kept you? Stop to sniff a rabbit butt?" Carl was already swimming, his blonde hair slicked back and his bright blue eyes sparkling as he laughed

"Nope. Just a squirrel butt this time."

Carl dove under the water, his legs kicking water up at Callin as he shot straight down. After a long minute he reappeared, triumphantly holding up a handful of river rocks.

"Got a few crystals this time!" He crowed, sifting through his treasure.

Callin peeled off his shirt and shoes and prepared to leap in, looking forward to the shock from the cold water, but then he paused. There was something...what was it? He closed his eyes, concentrating on the scents reaching his nose, and the sounds of the forest around them.

"Hey, ya don't gotta meditate just to go swimming!"

Callin held a finger to his lips at Carl, giving him a warning glare. Telling him to be quiet, letting him know he wasn't joking, now. He had to know what he had just sensed. It wasn't just strange and new, it had felt...dangerous.

Carl fell silent, and Callin could hear him even holding his breath as he tried to remain as quiet as possible. Carl had never pushed him once he saw that warning glare. He knew Callin was truly worried about something if he looked at him like that.

Long moments passed in silence. Callin finally opened his eyes and looked around, his fists clenched in frustration.

"What is it?" Carl asked.

Callin shook his head, then began to climb up the rocky ledge by the river stream. He wanted to see if a higher vantage point would help him either hear, or scent, whatever was in the woods nearby. Down below, he could hear Carl getting dressed, clearly ready to head back now that something was off. Their mother had always told them to trust their instincts, and to quickly return to the cabin if something seemed wrong.

Callin stopped as he reached the uppermost point, glancing around. The woods were quiet. Quieter than they should be. It made his arm hairs stand on end. He turned to call a warning to Carl, and then heard a harsh snap sound, followed by the unmistakable hiss of an object moving through the air at great speed.

Carl cried out and stumbled to his knees, his hands grasping at his neck. Callin blinked, not understanding what he was seeing. It looked almost like a small, shiny bird had flown into the side of Carl's neck, sticking its beak right into his skin, its silvery feathers glinting in the morning sun.

Then that same harsh snap sound came again, followed by the hiss of air. This time, it grew louder in the barest of instants, and Callin's instincts threw him sideways in a panic, trying to dodge the incoming threat. He pitched sideways off the rocky ledge, plummeting towards the river, but not before a searing line of pain traced along the edge of his jaw.

The water was headache cold, adding to the frigid adrenaline slashing through him, and he broke the surface and gasped for air as if he were almost drowning, one hand clasping his bleeding jaw. The scent of his own blood reached his nose, mingled with the most prickly, painfully-edged scent he had ever smelled. It made his eyes water instantly, sending a bolt of dread directly into his chest. He knew that wretched scent was on him now. In him, even, mingling with the open wound on his jaw. Carried by whatever it was that had slashed him.

He swam towards the shore, seeing Carl lying facedown on the grass. Not moving. The adrenaline and the dread inside abruptly shifted to blazing fury. Someone dared hurt his brother! They were going to pay.

His mother had warned him about controlling his emotions. She had warned him about that inner fire, that unthinking rage. That fire inside she had said would bring their enemies upon them, if he ever dared tap into it.

Now, though, he felt it was time to uncage that power inside. He clambered up the river edge, swaying on his feet as he looked around for an enemy to attack. Then, the world began to swirl, and black blotches filled his vision.

He was faintly aware when he hit the ground. He heard all sound begin to fade away, along with his fading vision. But right before it was gone entirely, he heard footsteps, and voices.

"That one took a while to go down. Tough little rat." A muffled voice, like it was spoken through a helmet.

"Gather them up quickly, transport will be here in less than five. Be sure to use the electrocuffs. Dan, Peter, you two go back to the cabin, make sure the mother is dead. No loose ends." Another voice, also muffled.

Callin tried to snarl in protest. He tried to lift his head, but the black blotches rose up, overwhelming him entirely.