Chapter 26

  “You should probably go first.”

  “But what about the Law of First Discovery?” Fia teased, “If I go down first, the trident will be mine to claim.”

  “You said you didn’t need it! Please… I’m too young to go first.” Cari shrank back, cowering, in a failed attempt to look small.

  Fia smiled. “Don’t worry, Cari, it's all yours.” Of course, it was not likely to be that simple. It was hard to imagine that this trident wasn’t what her compass burned for, but there was no harm in letting the girl hold on to it, at least until the loop reset.

  The young girl’s jaw relaxed, shifting as she let out a deep breath. “Well, go on then,” she ordered, nudging Fia towards the ladder.

  She peered over the edge, only darkness. The ladder, a sodden tangle of rope and driftwood, dangled over the abyss. It swayed, drifting back and forth as if caught in a tide far below.

  “Maybe send a light down,” Cari offered, hands pressed into the small of her back, prodding her forward.

  “Alright, alright.” A golden bauble fell from her staff, sinking into the dark. It flashed as it dropped, a sparkling dot, like a far-off star warring with the sable cloak of the cosmos. And though its light was radiant, it failed to penetrate the shade.

  “Hmmm,” Cari pursed her lips. “I guess there’s nothing left to do but head down.”

  “No way forward but through…” She crouched. Placing her hands on the top rung. Then, swung herself over the edge, into the abyss.

  The descent was long and wet. Step by step, fingers sliding against the slick, mildew-infested rope, feet thumping against rotten planks, threatening to collapse at any moment. She could hear Cari, close behind her, cursing as the ladder rocked, as she clung to it for dear life, but even in the light of her orb, Fia could not see her.

  Down, down they climbed. Footfall, heavy breath, and the sound of deep waters sloshing against the tunnel walls were all that could be heard. And then there were no more rungs. Here foot fell, frantically reaching out for solid ground. Instead, there was a splash as her boot hit a pool, and it plunged into its cold depths. And as she sank, the world turned. Suddenly, the dark waters were above her, and they came raining down, crashing against her like waves. Fia threw up her arms, shielding her face as she closed her eyes.

  When she opened them, she was back home.

  She had died. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, pinching her brow and massaging the bridge of her nose. Then she smelt something. Her nose crinkled as the rancid smell of burning bacon wafted towards her. Timor? It would be just like him to ruin the last of her stores. Fia lifted her head, turning towards the kitchen, and her eyes grew wide.

  Bent over the wood stove, her dark hair tied up in a frazzled knot, was a girl. She was hard at work. Tossing and stirring, muttering all manner of spells and hexes under her breath as she struggled with the meal. For all of her genius, she had never mastered cooking. Something about it stumped her, and all the grimoires in the world could do nothing to change it.

  “Sophie,” she croaked. It couldn’t be her, but it was. Fia flew from the bed, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her face between her shoulders. The scent of her perfume, vanilla and lilac, filled her nose. It was just as she remembered it.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” Sophie turned, pushing past her to place a steaming pile of mushy eggs upon the table. “You slept so long, I thought I’d make us some breakfast.”

  “Sophie?”

  “Yes?” Her sister looked back, eyes sparkling, her smile caught halfway. Had her eyes always been that color?

  “Where were you?” She whispered.

  Sophie’s head tilted, cocking to the side, “What do you mean?” She pulled out a chair.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I’ve been all alone.” Her legs had turned to jelly, and she wobbled as they shook. Teetering until finally, they gave way and she collapsed into her seat.

  “Gods, Fia! Are you alright?”

  “I thought you were dead…”

  “Don’t be silly,” Sophie laughed, walking over to her and batting her on the head, tousling her hair. “Somebody hasn’t quite woken up yet.” She cupped Fia’s face in her hands, “What strange dreams you have. Probably because you haven’t eaten. Now go on!”

  “But—”

  “—Eat up! You must be starving! You can tell me all about your dream when you’ve finished.”

  Fia stared down at her plate. The bacon was charred, burnt black. Somehow, the eggs had turned grey, and Sophie had even managed to ruin the bread. It sat in a pool of strange juices flowing from the rest of the meal and soaking into the crumb.

  “Are you sure this is edible?” She poked at the meat, and it collapsed into a pile of ash.

  “Of course! It…It’ll taste better than it looks.” Sophie promised.

  “But will it taste better than it smells?” She grinned, watching a scowl twist onto her sister’s face.

  “Don’t be mean, Fia,” she grumbled. “I’m doing the best I can.” And she stomped off to grab a plate.

  The food was awful. All of it was burnt, most of it was mushy, and there might have even been some mold on the edges of the bread. But Fia ate every bite. She would eat this every day if she had to. It was worth the trade.

  When she finished, she looked up to see Sophie watching her curiously.

  “I can’t believe you ate that,” she giggled. “I gave up after the first bite. Truly disgusting stuff.”

  “You said I had to!”

  “I know, but still… I was planning to go out for pastries…I guess you're probably full now.”

  “I can’t believe you…”

  Sophie laughed, a pealing bubble, like chimes ringing in the breeze. She had missed that sound.

  “Well, I’m glad you finished everything!”

  The room fell silent, and Sophie’s eyes narrowed. They seemed brighter than she remembered. But it had been so long.

  “We have a rodent problem.”

  “A what?”

  “I can hear them, scratching beneath the floor. Don’t want to leave anything out for them…”

  “Rats?”

  She nodded. “Someone’s been toying with my shop. Making changes to its foundation. Rats, creeping up from the dredges, slipping in through the cracks.”

  Was she talking about Timor? No, that wasn’t right. That was just a dream. Was it?

  “Sophie, when is this?”

  “What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed, thin lines knitting together in concern.

  “Where are the rebels? Have they reached the city yet?”

  Sophie sighed. “Months ago, Fia. Honestly, you’ve been so forgetful since then.”

  “And they…?”

  “They were smashed. You know this.” Was that gold?

  “They didn’t make it into the city?”

  “Of course not! They never stood a chance. The walls are too high, the city too strong for such a direct assault. It was a baffling decision by that rebel king.”

  “And what about Albrecht?”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  Sophie was shouting. Had she ever shouted at her like this? There they were again! Glimmering specks, spreading from the corners of her eyes.

  “That man was a traitor!” She was raving, pounding on the table as she screamed, “He tried to sell us out! The old fool got what he deserved!”

  “Sophie, stop! Please! What are you doing? What is happening?” Outside, the world was spinning, as a great storm gathered. Storm clouds bathed the city in darkness. And in the shop, the boards began to tear away. Flying through the air, smashing through windows, swept up in the gale.

  And from beneath came a horde. Shadows. Fleet of foot and swarming. Rats, coming up from the dredges. They fled into the storm, flinging themselves from the shop, in a mad rush for freedom.

  Sophie stood alone. Only, she wasn’t really. Melting out from her neck was a curling spine, and at its top a second head. It was made of molten light. Brilliant aureate strands spinning together, threading themselves into lustrous knots to form a face. A cold face. Ella’s.

  An arm clawed from her, tearing from her sister’s shoulder and reaching out to grasp a golden staff.

  “If you cannot live peacefully in the dream I have provided, then go!” A voice cried, but it was not her sister’s. It came from nowhere, echoing in her mind. “Begone from here! Ungrateful wretch!”

  “Sophie, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… I… I don’t want to lose you again!”

  A second arm grew, twisting as it pressed against her sister, pushing and prying as Ella pulled herself from Sophie. There was a rip, like the tearing of linen, and she split, slumping to the floor as the golden idol sprang from her still form.

  “You could’ve been happy here, Fia.” The voice cackled, “I might have let you.”

  Ella lifted her staff, the emerald glint of its jewel, radiating with light. And the shop pulled away, its foundations shattering, its wood splintering into nothing. They stood alone in the tempest as the wind howled.

  “Please…I don’t understand…” Fia begged, falling to her knees.

  And the staff came down. “Fia,” the voice commanded, “I return you to the world of your birth; for there is no dream I can conceive of that is a worse fate than the horror of endless time.”

  “Sophie!” She screamed. She needed to run, needed to reach her. But her legs were stuck, she was sinking, and the world was fading. “Sophie, please! Don’t let me go!”

  There was a flash, a hot white light, burning into her face. She closed her eyes, shielding them from its glare.

  “Sophie!” A last, desperate plea.

  And when she opened them, the storm was gone. And so was Ella. And so was Sophie.

  She lay upon the shore of a silver lake. Caught in its reeds, her legs drifting, scraping along its rocky bed. Beside her lay Cari, tossing in her sleep, whimpering in fearful slumber. Above them, its pale light reflecting in the still waters was the ghost of a full moon. And in its shadow, a goddess dreamt.

  Cycle: Timor 8-1