Like their . . . mother’s. Jo had been with her right before her death!
Jo hadn’t been her name then. She’d been . . . Kierra. A little girl. An eight-year-old halfling in Apparitia, the murky realm of the phantoms.
“It’s worldend!” Kierra screamed. The sky was falling. Failing. Wounded stars plummeted to their deaths, as bright as sparks from a flint.
She clung to the edge of a vortex, her claws digging into the ground. All around her, more black holes hissed open, a wall of them, black upon black upon black.
Like spiders’ eyes.
She had no idea where those sucking holes would lead—rifts had appeared in the ether as Apparitia had begun to die—but escaping through one was their only chance at survival. Mother had never teleported to another plane, couldn’t evacuate them.
“Mother, come with me!” Some relentless force was crushing their dimension. A million screams had sounded with the first fires. Then the plains had jutted up into mountains. The nearby sea had risen, a pillar straight up into the sky. Flames had taken its place, blazing red for blue.
They’d heard rumors of a being who could crumble worlds using naught but his will.
With a pale hand raised to the night, her mother was fighting back. Between gritted teeth, she said, “No, I can’t falter! Or we’ll all be crushed!” If she teleported to Kierra, the dome she’d created above them might disappear.
She couldn’t even crawl to her daughter. One of her hands emitted power; the other clung to her wailing newborn son. Her telekinesis was more powerful than most phantoms’, but she was exhausted from delivering her baby just this morning.
Kierra’s telekinesis was weak and unpracticed, but she had to fight like her mother. “Let me help you!” If only she were older!
“Nooo, Kierra! Save your power!”
The black holes grew hungrier, sucking at Kierra’s legs. Her instinct clamored for her to become intangible. But she wasn’t old enough yet. “Just try to reach a portal!”
Mother shook her head, her dark hair streaming all around her. “I need to keep yours open . . . as long as possible!” The sky plummeted lower, like the ceiling of a collapsing tunnel.
Mother’s raised arm whipped in the howling gusts. “I’m going to let him go into the winds!” Her newborn? She wouldn’t dare! “I’ll direct him to you.”
“Noooo, I might miss him! Please . . . chance any portal!”
“Catch him, Kierra! I know you can do it. And then don’t ever let him go!”
With a cry, Mother released her precious baby to the winds. Just before he reached Kierra, huge spikes of crystal shot from the ground, sending him adrift by inches.
Kierra tensed her every muscle, readying to snare him. He was rising, heading for another vortex!
“Don’t let him go!” Mother screamed.
“No, no!” Kierra stretched, her fingers splayed. An inch of space separated them. . . .
She managed a spurt of telekinesis . . . she snagged his swaddling! “Got him!” She cradled him with one arm. He was so tiny, his screams so loud. He didn’t even have a name yet.
More explosions. Fire surged from the valley, racing toward them. Still holding up the sky, Mother went intangible. “You have to escape, dear one. You have to go.” Lava seeped from the ground all around her.
“Come now!” Kierra screamed, tears streaming down her face. But she knew her mother would remain to defend this vortex entrance as long as possible.
“Keep him close. Protect him. I love you both so much.” Flames towered around her ghostly form, about to swallow her. She mouthed, Dear one, please go.
Kierra mouthed back, We love you. Past the flames, they met eyes. I’ll protect him.
Mother nodded and forced a watery smile. Just before she was engulfed, she saw Kierra release her hold and the vortex suck her children in—
Flying. Spinning. Weightless.
Kierra clutched the baby close as she zoomed down a tunnel of black, twirling over and over.
Vortex chutes crisscrossed. Waves of lava flooded in from other openings, speeding toward her and the baby. “Ah, gods, no!” She used her telekinesis to attempt a bubble around them. She hunched over her brother as lava coated the shield, heat and pressure grinding down on it.
Please hold, please hold, please hold.
That crushing force beat against her telekinesis. She clenched her eyes shut and prayed over and over. . . .
The heat gradually faded. She dared to glance up, blinking in confusion. Crystal? Her power had met lava under pressure, creating a transparent shell. It wrapped around her and the baby. A cocoon.
Time passed. Their momentum slowed. When the baby quieted, the total silence hit Kierra, and she sobbed for her mother. For her friends. For her world. She tucked her brother into the folds of her cloak, determined to protect him.
Eons eked by as they floated in their crystal cocoon, but they didn’t age. Though she never felt hunger, she would cut her wrist and feed the baby.
Onward they floated.
Just when she’d decided they would be trapped in this existence forever, Kierra gazed up. Through the crystal, she witnessed . . . stars being born. She watched one planet learn how to spin. She could perceive the rotation of others. As if they danced for her.
Heaven.
She wept from the unutterable beauty. There’s a curtain over the universe, but I’m seeing behind it. Yet she wasn’t to know these secrets. They weren’t hers. No one child could bear that weight.
Jo hadn’t been her name then. She’d been . . . Kierra. A little girl. An eight-year-old halfling in Apparitia, the murky realm of the phantoms.
“It’s worldend!” Kierra screamed. The sky was falling. Failing. Wounded stars plummeted to their deaths, as bright as sparks from a flint.
She clung to the edge of a vortex, her claws digging into the ground. All around her, more black holes hissed open, a wall of them, black upon black upon black.
Like spiders’ eyes.
She had no idea where those sucking holes would lead—rifts had appeared in the ether as Apparitia had begun to die—but escaping through one was their only chance at survival. Mother had never teleported to another plane, couldn’t evacuate them.
“Mother, come with me!” Some relentless force was crushing their dimension. A million screams had sounded with the first fires. Then the plains had jutted up into mountains. The nearby sea had risen, a pillar straight up into the sky. Flames had taken its place, blazing red for blue.
They’d heard rumors of a being who could crumble worlds using naught but his will.
With a pale hand raised to the night, her mother was fighting back. Between gritted teeth, she said, “No, I can’t falter! Or we’ll all be crushed!” If she teleported to Kierra, the dome she’d created above them might disappear.
She couldn’t even crawl to her daughter. One of her hands emitted power; the other clung to her wailing newborn son. Her telekinesis was more powerful than most phantoms’, but she was exhausted from delivering her baby just this morning.
Kierra’s telekinesis was weak and unpracticed, but she had to fight like her mother. “Let me help you!” If only she were older!
“Nooo, Kierra! Save your power!”
The black holes grew hungrier, sucking at Kierra’s legs. Her instinct clamored for her to become intangible. But she wasn’t old enough yet. “Just try to reach a portal!”
Mother shook her head, her dark hair streaming all around her. “I need to keep yours open . . . as long as possible!” The sky plummeted lower, like the ceiling of a collapsing tunnel.
Mother’s raised arm whipped in the howling gusts. “I’m going to let him go into the winds!” Her newborn? She wouldn’t dare! “I’ll direct him to you.”
“Noooo, I might miss him! Please . . . chance any portal!”
“Catch him, Kierra! I know you can do it. And then don’t ever let him go!”
With a cry, Mother released her precious baby to the winds. Just before he reached Kierra, huge spikes of crystal shot from the ground, sending him adrift by inches.
Kierra tensed her every muscle, readying to snare him. He was rising, heading for another vortex!
“Don’t let him go!” Mother screamed.
“No, no!” Kierra stretched, her fingers splayed. An inch of space separated them. . . .
She managed a spurt of telekinesis . . . she snagged his swaddling! “Got him!” She cradled him with one arm. He was so tiny, his screams so loud. He didn’t even have a name yet.
More explosions. Fire surged from the valley, racing toward them. Still holding up the sky, Mother went intangible. “You have to escape, dear one. You have to go.” Lava seeped from the ground all around her.
“Come now!” Kierra screamed, tears streaming down her face. But she knew her mother would remain to defend this vortex entrance as long as possible.
“Keep him close. Protect him. I love you both so much.” Flames towered around her ghostly form, about to swallow her. She mouthed, Dear one, please go.
Kierra mouthed back, We love you. Past the flames, they met eyes. I’ll protect him.
Mother nodded and forced a watery smile. Just before she was engulfed, she saw Kierra release her hold and the vortex suck her children in—
Flying. Spinning. Weightless.
Kierra clutched the baby close as she zoomed down a tunnel of black, twirling over and over.
Vortex chutes crisscrossed. Waves of lava flooded in from other openings, speeding toward her and the baby. “Ah, gods, no!” She used her telekinesis to attempt a bubble around them. She hunched over her brother as lava coated the shield, heat and pressure grinding down on it.
Please hold, please hold, please hold.
That crushing force beat against her telekinesis. She clenched her eyes shut and prayed over and over. . . .
The heat gradually faded. She dared to glance up, blinking in confusion. Crystal? Her power had met lava under pressure, creating a transparent shell. It wrapped around her and the baby. A cocoon.
Time passed. Their momentum slowed. When the baby quieted, the total silence hit Kierra, and she sobbed for her mother. For her friends. For her world. She tucked her brother into the folds of her cloak, determined to protect him.
Eons eked by as they floated in their crystal cocoon, but they didn’t age. Though she never felt hunger, she would cut her wrist and feed the baby.
Onward they floated.
Just when she’d decided they would be trapped in this existence forever, Kierra gazed up. Through the crystal, she witnessed . . . stars being born. She watched one planet learn how to spin. She could perceive the rotation of others. As if they danced for her.
Heaven.
She wept from the unutterable beauty. There’s a curtain over the universe, but I’m seeing behind it. Yet she wasn’t to know these secrets. They weren’t hers. No one child could bear that weight.
