Flux Wanderrift's Arc

Chapter 4 of 18

Flux stepped to the edge of the hanging rug. The many-headed creature reached its roots toward the blue seam. Its many faces stopped smiling. They strained. The seam fought back. The creature's roots shook, and one head groaned like a bending branch. "Hold it," Flux said. "Just a little longer." The creature couldn't. Flux saw it now. It had held the last portal too long. Its roots were slipping. If it collapsed, the seam would snap shut, and Flux would lose the only door to the council's fold. The route in the little box would mean nothing. The jester scrambled down Flux's arm. It sniffed the strained roots and swore in its own sharp tongue. Then it pointed at the flea-swarm drifting nearby, small and dim in the drawers of its box. Flux understood. The creature needed help pulling the seam wide. The swarm could read dimensions. It could feel the tension in the seam. Maybe it could guide the roots. "I need you," Flux told the swarm. "Help hold the door." The swarm hovered close. Then, without warning, it bit. Fleas landed on Flux's wrist and dug in. Sharp little stings ran up the arm. The jester yelped as fleas bit its neck too. Flux flinched, ready to swat them away. But then something changed. The stings weren't pain now. They were words. Flux heard the swarm inside their head, thousands of tiny voices speaking as one. "The roots are pulling wrong," the swarm said. "The seam wants a different angle." The jester's three eyes went wide. It heard it too. It chattered back, and Flux understood the chatter now, clear as speech. The bites had linked them all. "Left," the jester said. "Tell the creature to twist left." Flux ran to the many-headed creature. "Twist your roots left! Follow the fleas!" The swarm poured out of its box and swirled into the seam. It marked the true path with its small bodies. The creature's roots followed. They shifted left, found the right angle, and locked in. The seam stopped fighting. It widened. Blue light spread and held steady. The creature's faces smiled again, all together. Flux laughed and rubbed the bites on their wrist. "You could have just asked to talk." The swarm gathered back into a face. This time it didn't copy Flux's grin. It made its own small smile. The portal held wide and calm. Beyond it, Flux saw a dark shape floating in space. A stranded building, covered in the council's insignia. Bold letters shouted across its metal walls. NO FLUX ALLOWED. FLUX IS CHAOS. OBEY THE COSMIC COUNCIL. Flux stared at the vault. The route had led here first, not to the fold. The council had stashed something behind those loud, locked doors. "They really don't like me," Flux said. They tucked the box close and stepped through.