Pheonix Feathers – Chapter 14

Jordan's dog nose was pressed close against the concrete. It was night, his way lit by street lamps and the occasional car speeding by. It was raining, which was extremely annoying, because it was washing away the scent. It even made the endlessly happy dog's brain sad, its whole world was scent, without it the world was just… boring. But Jordan had a job to do. The dog understood that, too, it liked having a purpose. But Jordan was wet, and he was tired, and he had lost the scent, and he didn't know what to do. He sat down on his haunches on the side of a road, looking mournfully out into the dreary darkness of the city. He loved Tobias, and he didn't know where he was, and this had been what his father had been talking about, this was what he was supposed to do, wasn't it? To save Tobias… He stood up, and began trotting down the street, desperately sniffing the ground. He had only two morphs, dog and ferret. He had tried desperately to find a bird morph, even going so far as trying to catch and wound a pigeon badly enough as a dog so that he could demorph and acquire it without it flying away, but they were impossible to catch, and the one he did manage to catch died before he had the chance to acquire it… not that he really thought that his becoming a pigeon would help Tobias much at the moment. He wished he knew who could have taken Tobias, and why. He couldn't imagine how anyone could even have known where Tobias was… who would have expected him to go so far away from where he was last seen? Jordan was clueless, and nearly hopeless. It was time for him to be demorphing, anyway. He stepped into a doorway, hidden from both site and the rain, and quickly demorphed. He had figured how to morph clothing quickly, but hadn't really expected to be out and about in it, so all he had on was a pair of bike shorts. And he wasn't anywhere near home, and he had no money. He crouched in the doorway, preparing to remorph the dog. He knew from Marco's book how tiring morphing was, especially performing morphs in quick succession to one another, but he hadn't imagined it would be this bad… as he began to morph, something caught his eye. It was a paper, lying on the sidewalk, soggy from the rain, but Jordan could still read the front page headline. 'ANIMORPHS MISSING! WORLD WONDERS WHERE THEIR HEROS HAVE GONE'

Jordan stopped his morph, quickly pulling the ears which had begun creeping up his head back to their proper places, the fur on his hands retreating as well. He stared at the paper, trying desperately to figure out what that meant. All the Animorphs were gone. That meant… well, everyone knew the papers were in the pocket of the government, so if it had been any official sort of human who had taken Tobias and the others, it wouldn't be in the paper. No other human would be able to take the Animorphs. In that case… the Yeerks were gone from the world, excepting the few peaceful members of that race. So the only logical conclusion…

Jordan had never morphed an Andalite. He remembered being one, and he somehow knew that he could become one if he wanted to, but he never had. He had been waiting… he didn't know for what, but until it felt right. It was something important, returning to something, to what he used to be. It was a type of homecoming, and he hadn't wanted to do that just lightly. But now… Jordan focused in his mind on the memory that was still all too clear in his mind, that of his own body as he was lifted away from it, away from the blue grass and the home he loved… He barely even felt the changes happening. He felt two new hearts awaken within him, his stalk eyes erupting from his head, his powerful, killing tail blade emerge from soft flesh… His four hooves clicked against the concrete as he landed, on all fours, a fully formed Andalite. It did not feel like a new body to him, and there was no other mind to compete with. It was simply him, as if this was who he always was, who he always should have been. He had not even realized how much he had missed his tail, until it was back. He turned his stalk eyes behind him, examining it closely as he swished it gleefully. He took off galloping down the street, looking every way at once, his tail arched high above him.

"Sir!"

Jordan looked toward the voice, noticing a policeman standing on the corner, looking exceedingly wet and annoyed. He stopped, standing in front of the man, carefully and slowly lowering his tail as not to seem threatening. Yes?

"Can I see your proof of residence, or your visitors pass?" Andalites living on, or visiting earth, were required to carry identification attesting to these facts. "I normally wouldn't ask, but you were morphing without permission…" The human clarified, somewhat nervously. He fingered the beam-gun he carried at his side.

Jordan watched him with his main eyes, his stalk eyes pointing behind, as was his instinct. He wondered what he could possibly say. "Sir, I'm not an Andalite, I'm an unregistered Morpher?" "Sir, get out of my way, I need to go save my human boyfriend. Maybe you've heard of him? Tobias the Animorph?" No.

What he did do may have been even stupider than these options. He brought his tail blade up, striking over his head like a scorpion. He twisted his blade to the side at the last moment, hitting the policeman with the flat of his blade and knocking him out. Turning away, Jordan resumed running down the street.

He didn't get very far, however. As he turned the corner a few blocks away, he came face to face with a group of police, beam-gums pointed directly at his head. "I think you need to come with us, Mr. Andalite."

Jordan began to speak, but before he could form the thoughts, one man fired, and Jordan's mind went black.

Gregory Hatch? What kind of a name is that?

General Gregory Hatch exited the office he had spoken to Tobias in. The difference between the room, and the space outside of it was downright shocking. The office looked like a normal military office, small, bare, cheap desk and chair, no decoration except for a few medals on a cheap shelf. But when Gregory Hatch stepped out, he stepped into a silver, stainless metal ship, lit by a soft blue light. On the ceiling were color coded lights, instructing those walking through the halls in which way to go. 'Gregory' immediately demorphed. When he was fully Andalite, he followed the other Andalite, who had spoken previously, toward the bridge, not bothering to look at the color codes. The ship was his home, and he knew her like the blade of his tail. It was the name of a cashier at a restaurant I visited on earth. He admitted.

Is the job complete, Prince Molaran? The other Andalite asked.

Yes, War-Prince.

Good. they arrived on the bridge, looking out through the wide windows unto the emptiness of space. The Andalite home star was front and center, as it was their destination. It still was many millions of light-years away.

War-Prince… is the Time Matrix truly safe in his care? Molaran asked, turning to his War-Prince.

I would trust Prince Aximili with my life, he responded.