Kiersten's Arc

Chapter 20 of 33

Night fell on the broken house. Kiersten had not moved from the wall. The crystal in the hearth burned low. Outside, wind pushed at the boards. She needed to reach her teachers before the scout circled back at first light. But every messenger she thought of would draw him straight to her door. A child sent through town would be followed. A bird would be marked. A voice on the wind would be heard by ears that were listening for exactly that. Witness pulsed once in her chest, steady. Kiersten pressed her palm to the floor. "I don't know how to send word without being seen," she said aloud. The spirit did not answer in language. It pulled her eyes down toward the dust. Her lids grew heavy. She understood, before she could argue, that Witness was taking her under. She fell sideways into sleep on the dirty boards. She stood in a field she did not know. The sky was the color of wet copper. Grass moved without wind. There were no houses. There were no paths. Kiersten turned in a slow circle and found she could not name a single thing she saw. Fear rose. She pushed it down and breathed three, six, nine. Quantum stood beside her. He wore his star-patterned robe. His glasses caught a light with no source. He had not been there a second before. "You're dreaming," he said, deep and calm. "So are we. Witness pulled the thread. This is the only room the scout cannot enter." Mother Angel stepped from nothing, her wings folded close. "Speak, child. We will hear you here and remember when we wake." Kiersten's throat worked. "The scout passed the house at noon. He will come back. I cannot walk to you and I cannot send anyone." "You already sent yourself," Quantum said. "This is the message. We are receiving it." Mother Angel raised a hand. "Stay in the ruin two more nights. On the third, at moonrise, we will come to the wood behind the broken porch. Do not open the door. Wait for my voice at the hearth stone." Kiersten nodded. Then the copper field bent. A figure stood at its edge in a blue shirt and a gray cap. Eduardo. His mouth opened. No sound came out, but the grass around his boots blackened. Quantum's hand closed on her shoulder. "He followed the thread in. He should not be able to. Wake, Kiersten. Now." She woke on the floor of the broken house. Dawn cut through a cracked board. The crystal in the hearth had gone out. On the sill, beside the pressed roses, sat a single black petal she had not left there. Her teachers had her message. Something else had her scent.