Beth Wonders's Arc

Chapter 26 of 29

Beth stepped off the bazaar onto her own cathedral floor. Her hands were empty. The star magic she'd crossed the world for was gone, spent to steer the bazaar home. Now the void chef coiled by her anchor tree, star-eyes bright, and it kept talking. "Almost ripe," it said. "Your world. I can taste it from here. Soon I'll want my share." Beth had nothing left to build with, and nothing left to fight with. If something came through her walls tonight, she couldn't stop it. A soft glow drifted through the north window. A blue star-shaped lantern floated in, and behind it came a candy fairy Beth had only heard about. Lola Sugar hovered on thin wings, a lollipop crown on her curls, dark eyes too big for her small face. She granted wishes. Beth knew what her wishes did. A boy who once asked for candy forever was spun sugar now, and children licked him. "Sweet thing," Lola breathed. "You want something. I hear it, I hear it." She circled the lantern. "Wish out loud. I'll fill you up. Full, full, full of magic." Beth's skin prickled. "No wishes. I know what you make of people." Lola smiled and set the lantern down. "So clever. Then trade. No wish." Elijah stepped from the shadows by the wall. He'd guarded the door all night. "Don't," he said, flat. "She turns people to sugar." "I know." Beth watched the fairy. "But she's not offering to change me. She's offering a lantern." Lola clapped. "Yes, yes! The lantern holds star-fire. Enough to raise a wall. Enough to hold your door." She tilted her head. "I only want one small thing." "Name it." "A taste of your world. Baked." Lola's dark eyes glinted. "Make me something from your own stars. A crumble. A shake. I eat what you build, sweet thing. Then the lantern is yours." The void chef went still, watching. Another cosmic thing hungry for her world. Beth already owed too many. But the lantern glowed with real star-fire, and she had nothing else. She pressed her palm to her anchor tree and drew the last thread of magic from its bark. She shaped it into a warm dish, golden crumb over jewel-bright starfruit, and a frothy pink shake beside it. Lola ate. Her whole small body shivered with joy. "Oh. Oh, home tastes like that." She left the lantern on the floor and rose. "Done. Done, sweet thing." Beth lifted the lantern. Star-fire poured into her hands, warm and full. She fed it straight into the north wall, and the stone sealed thick and bright. Her cathedral could hold now. But the void chef uncoiled and slid close. "Three of us taste it now," it said softly. "Me. The worm. And her." It nodded at the window where Lola had gone. "Your world grows sweeter, Beth. And sweeter means more will come to eat."