Heir of Empyreal Fire

Chapter One

A shrill whistle cut across the field. I glanced up at the sky and saw lightning streak overhead in long, flashing ribbons of ominous warning. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Oh shit!” Piper squealed when the sky abruptly opened its floodgates and dropped a deluge of water on us.

“Practice is over!” Coach Farrow shouted unnecessarily. “Grab your stuff and get off the field.

The rest of the Mead High girls’ soccer team and I sprinted around the suddenly soppy field gathering equipment and our water bottles. Then we huffed it inside the building in a frantic gaggle of screeching girls making futile attempts to keep our heads covered.

We bottlenecked at the metal door and pinballed off each other as we hurried down the stairs and out of the rain. We were a mess. And even though we’d all felt close to death after a particularly gruesome practice, we were now as chatty and lively as ever. Sudden downpours were apparently revitalizing.  

The atmosphere inside the basement locker room was stiff with Midwestern humidity. It was part natural ecosystem belonging to an ancient locker near an even more outdated boiler room. Part consequence of a whole day pregnant with the threat of an epic spring storm. The air was thick and hard to breath, ripe with the stench of smelly feet and mildew.

Our cleats trailed water and mud down the stairs and onto the main floor area. Coach appointed a couple freshman to grab some towels out of her office and clean up the mess. Piper and I shared a smug look.

“Feels good to be a senior, doesn’t it?” she said, laughing.