Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Heat lashed them once again as the three left the Forge.
Lia twirled the pen between her fingers.
The pain inside still pulsed. Like the Smith had warned, she had years since that moment to unpack.
Perhaps, like her grief at losing her papa, the grief of her father’s abandonment would always be there. She would just grow around it.
Why, of course, this all was rooted into your daddy issues—
Oh, she wished her thoughts to be quiet for once. Let her enjoy the win. And the money she’d saved, considering the cost of mental health care on Earth.
The Smith had been kind in the aftermath, offering them a small meal before they were sent onwards.
Though something had nagged at Lia as the Smith escorted them out.
Fee and Kayce had already been on their way, discussing the craftsmanship of battle axes, something Kayce found Fee sorely lacking in appreciation of.
This had amused the Smith greatly, as he paused with Lia to watch them.
“Why do they call you the Smith?” she had asked him, one foot out the door.
His laughter sobered with a big shrug. “My name is far too lengthy, in a language long since deceased, for most tongues to comprehend.”
“That shouldn’t matter. It’s your name.” Lia frowned. “Names deserve to be spoken.”
The Smith had looked at her then. His mouth tightened, that singular eye gleaming. “You really are like your mother.”
Such a remark snatched Lia’s breath, leaving confusion in its wake. But she didn’t get to pry, to ask, for the gentle giant leaned down to whisper his name before bidding her farewell.
With the Forge a fair distance behind, Kayce turned to Fee. “Now that Lia has her fancy wand—”
“Pen!” the two girls corrected in unison.
“Besides the point—do we get to go exploring?” He rubbed his hands together, bringing some lightness to the situation—much needed, as far as Lia was concerned.
Fee rolled her eyes, taking the goggles off before chucking them into a ditch. They turned into mist before hitting the ground. “Not so fast. Some tutelage is needed first.”
“Ever hear of trial and error?” Kayce questioned.
“Because that worked out so well trying to wrangle that mountain wyrm. Ever hear of better safe than sorry?”
Kayce’s neck flushed. “Terranth swore he’d never breathe a word of that dare—”
“Norenth’s guardian, remember?”
“Guys,” Lia said warily, watching her pen pulse like a heating oven.
They didn’t notice.
“Half the fun of exploration is figuring it out as you go,” Kayce persisted. “The adrenaline alone helps establish memory.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not right.” Fee tossed her gloves next, wings arching out over her shoulders. “Many people suffer memory loss under high doses of stress.”
“Who said adrenaline was stressful?”
“It’s a fight-or-flight response; of course it’s stressful.”
Lia’s voice cracked. “Guys, you’re not helping—” As the two continued to argue, Lia’s pen pulsed brighter, her anxiety flaring. She was emotionally raw, like a scab scratched open, blood beading. “Stop!” Lia shouted, but too late. The pen erupted, encasing her in light—
—and making her disappear.
Unable to focus on the Sphere of Malletor and get a grip on her spiraling emotions, Lia plunged through sphere after sphere, world after world. Her emotions had hijacked whatever made this new tool work. She was on emotional overload.
And tumbling through the Emperium wasn’t helping.
Flipping over herself, she toppled and spun, arms windmilling for a semblance of control. But she only fell faster.
“How do you steer this thing?” she cried, the pen locked in her white-knuckled grip.
Still, she did not slow. Temperamental thing, apparently. It wasn’t like the inanimate object could hear her. But Fee did. She and Kayce had left that fiery sphere behind, and Lia caught a glimpse of them standing on a nebulous cloud in the Emperium.
“Your anxiety is making it worse!” Fee called.
“You think?” Lia hollered back. “No thanks to—”
But she was gone.
She passed through a world of nothing but ocean, crested waves of white and salt consuming her lungs. Plummeted through a world of ash, ravines carved through cracked earth and jagged peaks—pure desolation. Lia balked, the wind snatching away a whimper as her pen flared—
Then, a sphere where ships with metal hubs of blinking lights whizzed through the air.
Hundreds of them, crisscrossing in varying traffic patterns.
Lia screamed when she almost collided with the windshield of one spacecraft, the cobalt-skinned people within returning her cry as she tried to barrel roll out of the way.
Not without a few bangs to her arms and legs.
Gritting her teeth, she fought the current to raise her arm. The gem flickered, echoing the burn that flared in Lia’s chest. Her ears popped. Then, she was back in the Emperium. Still falling.
“Breathe!” Kayce shouted through cupped hands. “Relax!”
“How do you relax in freefall?” Lia screamed.
She passed through a world where a cacophony of rainfall enveloped her.
Passed over dense forests, verdant meadows, and grasses rolling like seas of their own.
Only a single creature on a mountain rise—the body of a horse smoothed with feathers and the wings and head of an eagle—tracked her flight with a cock of its head.
Popping out the other side, Lia craned her neck to find her friends.
Fee waved her arms. “Find your peace!”
Peace? She was sopping wet and plummeting. Any inkling of that peace found after forging her pen was gone—
Think. She needed to focus, to think of something. What was peace but home?
The scent of brine and pine, mist-kissed breezes—
Another sphere gobbled her up, a dream world of clouds that rivaled the softest cotton candy. A castle in the sky—
Lia gritted her teeth. Home.
She passed through that sugary world without so much as a blip.
“You can do it, Aurelia!” Kayce called, his voice distant. “Focus!”
Through the Emperium she whirled, the heat in her heart burning in tandem with the gem of her pen. It pulsed brighter, brighter still—
Until she slowed, the boundaries of the next world easing her descent as it welcomed her. As if it had been waiting for her. But it wasn’t the coastal forests of Seattle. Not even Ohio, where she’d spent most of her life.
A smile lit Lia’s face, for it was mist that held her aloft, that ever-present mixture of river water and sea spray.
The floating continent of Norenth. Fealtek and the mountains that accompany it dominated her view, piercing the mist and seas bobbing in the sky with ships transporting their daily goods.
A tentacle, thick as a tower and a similar orange shade of brick, flung from the nearest cloud’s bounds to wrangle a passing skiff as she fell. The small boat sped away, sails shifting sharply to catch an upward breeze away from the particularly testy cloud.
Lia wanted to laugh—but she was falling. She should file a complaint about these hazardous work conditions. The Order didn’t mention nearly falling to her death. Especially after getting bruised, drenched, and her eardrums ruptured from shifting pressure.
Kayce’s idea of “exploring first” sucked.
Lia fought the current and whistled through her fingers. The sound pierced the air, searching, hoping, praying—
There!
The mist parted near Fealtek’s summit, and Paxia raced toward her.
Praise the skies and seas, the winged horse didn’t think twice about her owner falling from nowhere as she hurtled toward Lia.
Stuffing her pen in the waistband of her jeans, Lia grappled for the volatequis’s reins, fumbling several times before finding her seat in the saddle.
“Good girl,” she praised, her voice hoarse like it was several worlds behind. “Get to the balcony!”
Paxia snorted, wings pumping hard. The balcony selected was on the tallest turret of Castle Finerda, where a figure watched her descend. Terranth waved, the wind from Lia’s landing ruffling his dark hair.
“Where have you been?” His features were tense as he helped her dismount, concern furrowing his brow.
Her knees buckled, feeling solid ground. She could kiss the cobblestones for hours were it not for Terranth gripping her waist.
“Aurelia, are you well?” He looked her over, cheeks coloring when he noticed how the modern shirt clung thanks to her world-tumbling. “And what in the skies and seas are you wearing?”
“Give me a minute before we play ‘Twenty Questions’,” she wheezed, putting a hand to his chest. She needed space. She needed to sit. If she could only figure out which way the ground was.
Paxia whinnied, wings kicking up dust. A flash of light burned to their right. Kayce and Fee appeared, the latter lacking wings and wearing a Norenthian gown of blue and copper.
Terranth jerked around, drawing his sword at the sudden intrusion before blinking. “Kacerion?” Metal hissed as he re-sheathed the weapon. “What are you wearing?”
“Jeans,” Kayce replied, looking down at the slim-fit cut. “They do wonders for your backside.”
As much as Lia wanted to scoff, she was trying to capture a full breath. Her knees finally gave out. Terranth whirled with a warrior’s grace, catching her before she hit the floor.
“Someone has a great deal of explaining to do,” Terranth muttered, lowering her to a chair. “But why am I not surprised?”
“I would be offended if you were,” Kayce said, shouldering his way to Lia. His lightheartedness faded, taking in her wane complexion. “Brother, get her something to eat—”
“My stomach is somewhere in Candy Land,” she groaned. It was the only descriptor for that sugary world she passed through, not that it made any sense to him. Her body was too unsettled, like her very bones were vibrating.
“You need to ground yourself,” Fee said, sitting graciously in the opposite chair. “Food is mandatory after traveling.”
Terranth eyed the guardian. “And you are?”
Her white teeth shone. “To you, an admirer.”
His brows rose, causing Kayce to clear his throat. “Terranth, food. And get Jace.”