The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

I also had the blood of a destroyer.

A second later, my eyes flew open. Above me was a ceiling painted bright blue with a gold edge.

“Dude!” Hondo said. “You were out for, like, ever.”

I sat up in a nest of pillows. I jerked the wads of tissue from my nose and balled them in my hand. Blood was splattered across my gray sweatshirt. Note to self: Traveling from the Empty is cold and messy.

“Where am I?” I asked, looking around.

Jazz smiled. “My place. I live above the store. Like it? Don’t let those dirty tissues stain anything.”

The place was decorated in soft blues and greens, like the sea was wrapped around you. There was enormous hand-carved furniture and the stone walls were rutted, as if someone very angry had taken an ax to them. Everywhere I looked there were shiny objects: bowls, goblets, and mirrors. And the rough marble floor was covered in pale-blue rugs that reminded me of Navajo rugs I’d seen back home.

“It’s nice,” I said, rubbing my head. “What happened?”

“You fainted, had a big nosebleed,” Brooks said nonchalantly. “Just like the other times, Zane. I told Jazz not to worry.”

Other times?

Hondo grunted and shot me a go-along-with-it look. “Happens whenever he gets nervous,” he told Jazz. “Nose gushes, passes out cold.”

Jazz gave me a concerned frown and I seriously hated the pity I saw in his eyes. It made me want to tell him it was all a lie. I wasn’t a bleeding basket case—I was part god!

Brooks hopped onto the edge of the bed, which was about three feet off the ground. Then she took my hand in hers.

You spirit-jumped, didn’t you?

How’d you know?

Don’t talk about where you went, or who you saw. It isn’t safe.

But… I thought Jazz was your friend.

Which is why I don’t want him to know anything. If anyone comes sniffing around, he could get hurt. It’s better for him to be in the dark. Can’t bleed someone for information they don’t have.

Bleed?

Jazz shook his head. “Sorry if I made you nervous, kid. We giants have that effect.” I could tell he felt bad. Even though my pride wanted to tell the truth, Brooks was right. I didn’t want Jazz to get into any trouble because of me.

Hondo paced at the foot of the bed. “Dude, it was a geyser.”

“Yeah,” I said, wiping the tip of my now-dry nose. “Sorry about that.”

Jazz smiled and started taking his precious pillows off the bed while he launched into a speech about Marrakech being in the East and the East being lucky and the Bakab who held up that part of the sky was an old friend and…

“Did you say Bakab?” I asked.

“Yes,” Jazz said. “Do you know them?”

“Yeah—uh, no… I mean, I’ve only read about them,” I said with a shrug.

This pleased Jazz, because his chest puffed up. Then he said, “I’ve got just the thing for you,” and he bounded out of the room.

Brooks was still holding my hand. The blood’s a side effect of spirit-jumping, especially for first-timers.

First-timers? I wasn’t sure the trip was worth the journey and if I’d ever do it again. I reached for the jade tooth, thinking I’d have to be careful about my choice of words from here on out. No more casually dropping the word dad.

You sound like you’ve done it, I said.