Chapter Thirty-Three The Nova
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Nova
I awoke to the sound of a raucous grinding ailing my ears.
In my dreary comfort, my eyes were forced open. The night sky was still there, though I wasn’t sure if there would be a day in this realm. It might all just be a blank canvas of void that would fill in as I explored.
The indents from the bark pressing into my skin itched. My hair was fully dry, a bit knotted from the lack of detangling while it was wet.
Out in the darkness, it was mostly quiet. Small noises that I couldn’t decipher.
I tugged my petticoat off the branch, crouching low as I fastened it around my waist. I grabbed my corset cover for an extra layer besides the combinations. While my arms and feet were bare, it was more important that I could move than that I was properly dressed.
Something like cracking knees tickled my ear, the sound soft but poignant. At first I thought it might have been branches, a critter out in the brush.
I raked my fingers through the grass for my camera.
As I held the viewfinder to my eye, the colors became bright and thriving. Shifting and moving around the environment as easily as air.
I recognized a couple of black Peculiar forms: the flowers and trees, the fish in the pond, even what seemed like bugs.
Then, a black circle on the ground, out across the pond.
It only drew my eye because it was still. Most things were moving, even the auras. But this stonelike peculiarity was larger and completely unmoving.
Like the anomaly before me, I was still. The only movement was the beat of my heart, shaking my viewfinder with every pulse.
If I put the camera down, would it move?
I lowered the viewfinder from my eye, looking out into the darkness.
There was nothing much to see. Just a faint glow of life in the flora, the artificial sound of tree branches and leaves. Then, the cracking again.
I hesitated to look back through the lens, but did so anyway.
The circle was frozen in a new shape, this time long legs protruding from the mass, folded and curled on top of each other like a dead spider.
I checked again to see if it was visible in the dark. Nothing.
It had changed shape again by the time I looked back through the lens, this time some dots for eyes. Four of them. I was already thinking of spiders; perhaps it knew that and was changing accordingly.
From my bones down to the marrow, every nerve in my body felt chilled.
Peculiars who meant no harm took on delightful forms, nonthreatening and beautiful.
Something you didn’t mind being around so they could nibble at your delight when you got that warm feeling of comfort.
Even Altair had had consciousness enough to try to appear in the most acceptable form he could, even if it was emotionally manipulative for a positive reception.
Which only meant that the opposite could also be true.
I came back to my mind when I realized my internal distraction had let the thing slip from view, no longer where it had been. Gone.
A hot exhale by my ear.
I was still.
Controlled breaths in and out.
A slow crack behind me, above me. The chattering of teeth, the creaking of joints, the snapping of bone.
Unwillingly, my eyes turned toward the sky.
Within the weepy branches of the tree, the long, hairy legs of a black arachnid hovered, the twin claws at the end of a foot twitching in anticipation.
Then, I saw the face. Four beady white eyes. The figure hung from the silk of its thorax. Almost a hum of satisfaction emanated from the creature, making all its hairs erect.
Every pang of my heart, a dinner bell.
The thorax opened, cracking and crunching as the exoskeleton parted down the middle and revealed one set of teeth, then another.
I ran. By the stars, I ran; I didn’t even have time to think.
The ground cut my feet, my legs numb to whatever came in their way. The willow branches crashed around me, scraping against my body in my narrow escape, only a pull of hair to mark their efforts.
The arachnid was like someone was shaking a bag of chicken bones, rattling as it hurled after me. I jumped a log and went deeper into the forest, trees appearing as soon as they came into my vision, the scenery spawning when in proximity, just to disappear in my peripheral vision.
A shriek behind me, the ground shaking under my bare feet.
I didn’t know if it was worth hiding; I supposed it could have found me through other senses alone. So I went where my legs carried me. Twigs and woody weeds whipped against my legs, the burn barely noticeable between the itch in my muscles and the heat of my skin.
Up ahead was a bare parting in the trees. Nothing but the stars in the horizon.
A cliff.
I looked behind me. The beast’s legs clawing at the ground, its body bouncing back whenever it bumped into trees and fallen logs. The claws reached for me with every gallop.
The edge of the cliff was getting closer, faster.
Suddenly, I dropped.
The wind was knocked from my lungs as my chest hit the ground, the gravel burning as my cheek slid across the sediment of rocks and dust.
The black blur of the beast darted over me, though it attempted to reach back, to pivot. Its claws dug into the dirt, slicing the earth to anchor.
My face pressed into the ground, and I wrenched my eyes closed so I wouldn’t have to witness what would become of me. Dirt collected under my nails in anticipation, my last attempt at grounding.
But nothing came.
Pieces of dirt fell from my forehead when I finally lifted my face.
The path had been carved with wild talon trenches, pulled-up roots and rocks in its wake until the tracks ended at the ledge.
My legs wouldn’t move, so I dragged myself to the edge, afraid to stand, as if something would swoop over me.
When my hand touched the ledge, the dirt and rocks loosened and fell.
I waited for the sound of the debris at the bottom, but everything was quiet once more.
I dragged my body forward until I could peek down the face of the cliff, into darkness. Claw marks tracked down the side. Moist, newly turned dirt from the predator I’d narrowly escaped, then some that were much older and dry.
With shaky hands, I pushed my body away from the unstable ridge. Sweat mixed with the grime of the dirt and blood from my cuts. I sat down, brushing my hair back as I caught my breath.
My combinations were stained with black dirt.
My knees were beaten, there was a deep gash in my calf, and throbbing from when my head hit the ground had put me in an unproductive trance.
Flashes of fleshy imagery blocked my mind the minute I saw my leg.
The blood was bringing back terrible memories, overwhelming my senses.
The last time I’d seen such blood permeated the forefront of my mind.
The red, stringy muscles. The membrane that surrounded an eye. The way skin looked when devoid of blood. How bodies smelled when sanitized by the mortuary. The way Dorian looked, so cold on the slab.
I buried my face in my knees, pulling them close.
My breaths came hard at first, ragged and stinging my throat in a dry strain.
I had to calm myself by thinking of the ocean.
I thought of the sound of waves, of starving gulls and faraway ships.
Then other water-like pleasures—baths, the feeling of a freshly cleaned face, iris oils, a crisp spritz with fresh-slapped mint.
A breeze picked up, brushing my hair behind me.
When I looked up, the darkness called. It may not have been literal, but I felt it.
Like the way you feel sun on your face, a phantom pain, or the wound of someone missing.
It was there, and it called to me. But it was not sad or horrific like my last call to the depths. It was peace.
But I did not answer it, not this time.
I let the wind touch my face, to wipe the sweat from my brow and cool my skin.
From beyond, a light.
Not the moon above, but a star.
It was bright, then dimmed. The rays danced in my bleary vision.
There were others, then more than that. An entire sky of a world rarely seen.
A star for every year Earth had existed and more.
Never had I seen clusters so clearly. It was like the light rippling off a cloak of diamonds, veiling over the dark sky.
“Is it everything you thought it would be?” Altair’s voice, somber beside me.
I turned my head, resting it on my knees. “I don’t know yet.” He appeared to me as a person, but it wasn’t any comfort.
Altair’s eyes were as bright and pure as the stars. He couldn’t even hide the dim glow that came from them, especially when he looked at me. “Do you want to find out?”
I looked back out at the sky.
He reached to touch my leg, and I winced.
“Let me—”
“I don’t need your help.”
He tugged my ankle, ignoring my protest.
Altair’s hand turned black as he pressed his palm to my skin. A tingle erupted across the surface, making even the smallest hair turn on edge. It was warm, a wave of comfort. But it wasn’t real, was it?
“I hope you find what you’re searching for, Lucia,” he said, his eyes not leaving the wound.
“You say that like you know something I don’t.”
“I just hope whatever it is, it brings you peace,” he said simply, “because you won’t be able to go back.”
“What do you mean?” I stood quickly.
Altair looked at me through his lashes, letting go of my leg. “You should have stayed where you belonged.”
“You knew what I set out to do.”
“As if I could have changed your mind,” he laughed.
“You will help me,” I argued. “You said this would work.”
“It did, didn’t it?” He gestured around him. “You spoke to the dead, you traveled through—but no one said it would get you back. Did you really think the dead could go back?”
“You said it was . . .” I shook my head. “You sabotaged me!”
“I said you may find your dearly departed here. I did not promise you would find him or be able to bring him back. You are meddling.”
A white-hot anger erupted in me. It was like all the strings I’d been strung along by were suddenly all too taut and in every opposing direction. It was enough to wish for the sweet release that would come when my limbs were torn away from my body and I no longer was trapped in this web.
I kicked the dusty dirt in his face. “You speak in riddles because you have no substance to offer!” I hissed, stomping back down the path.
“You wanted to see it for yourself.” He materialized beside me, already walking in stride. “I am just here to show you the options you do have.”
I stopped in my tracks, turning to him. “Yet you neglected to tell me that I would have no way back? What choice do I have now? Where are you leading me to?”
He leaned close, his eyes lowered on me. “At this time, you can choose to pass on, or you may become stuck, doomed to repeat a loop in a cage fashioned just for you.” He paused, his eyes scrutinizing me, carefully directing his words. “Or you can join me.”
“Join you?” I scoffed. “I thought you were here to lead me.”
“With me, you can pass freely to and from briefly, but you can never fully return.” His words came quick, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he sounded excited.
“Just like you showed me your home, I can show you mine. Imagine every single question you’ve ever had, every wonder that’s ever crossed your mind, things you didn’t know you could know. ” He grasped my hands in his.
I could feel the twitch in my eye already. “I need to find Dorian.”
His face fell, like the warmth of his expression was freezing muscle by muscle as the elation dimmed. “He is dead,” he said bluntly. “You should be concerned about yourself now. When one passes beyond the Otherside, they cease to exist. He isn’t here anymore, Lucia.”
I stared at him, long and hard, until he began to shift. “And you knew this?” I stated. A smile sprouted on my face, the angrier I was becoming. “You knew he’d passed beyond and didn’t stop me from coming here? From searching?”
Interestingly enough, not another word out of the beastly companion.
How dare he?
A knot formed in my chest, a pain I hadn’t considered.
I was reliant on him . . . and he knew it would be like this.
He’d been truthful in a way; he’d told no lies.
But he hadn’t told me everything. Every word he’d ever said to me now felt like a foolish mirage.
He was the smoke, the mirror, the stage—and I was his fool.
Another means to an end.
I looked back into the darkness behind me. There was no human man waiting for me, no magical scene. Just three white eyes staring, hiding in the dark.
A chill crept through my spine and made a home between my shoulder blades. It was clear to me that whatever he wanted, it was not to help. He would always be a thing that I’d never understand, his motivations unknown. It would be a mistake to humanize him, to convince myself he was there to help.
Above all, he was a threat.
And I would never know what was holding him back.