Rise at Twilight

by Kayla Krantz

  What would be her Hell? Amy wondered.

  A shiver ran down her spine. The last thing she wanted to have to do would be to consult Luna about her mother. It’s not an option.

  Amy blinked, looking down at her fists which were clutched so tight that the skin over her knuckles had turned white. What were her options?

  Start from Ground Zero, she told herself.

  If there was one thing she knew about spirits is that like the old ghost cliché, many of them didn’t know how to let go of the place they had died in. For one reason or another, that would be the place they were bound to.

  The problem in this case? Where Rose had died, so had Amy. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. Even in this place, it was easy to believe that Luna had never killed her, that she had never felt the cold fury of the blade slicing into her skin. If she went there, however, she would have no choice but to face her own demons.

  Maybe that’s the point, Amy thought and screwed her face up at the thought.

  If there was any other way she could get the information she needed, she would try, but for all her thinking, this was it, the only plan she could work from. She could also see if Max would be able to fill in the mission for her, but that would mean admitting her weaknesses, that would mean telling the person who had once built her up that she was so destroyed she wouldn’t be the same ever again.

  Amy breathed out a small shuddering breath, counted to ten, and told herself I can do this before she traveled through the trees toward the edge of the city.

  If there was one thing she was glad about for the parallel world, it was that it had the same layout as the world she had left behind so she always knew where she was going. Amy’s footsteps were hesitant as she traveled to Luna’s old house. She hoped her brain would come up with some new information, information she hadn’t thought of that would free her from having to do this, but as she rounded on Luna’s old block, she realized it wasn’t going to happen.

  Amy’s heart started to beat harder as she wandered closer. When she was on the steps of the porch, her hand shook as she lifted it, unsure if she should knock or just go right inside. Since she wasn’t sure there would even be anyone inside, she decided it would be easier for her to just go inside.

  The house was cold and still, just as she had remembered it. Swallowing, memories of her last night alive flooded her head. Michelle’s funeral, Luna’s diary with her confession, the brutal stabbing.

  “Hello?” Amy called out, not able to walk past the living room to go deeper into the house, into her memories. “Is anyone here?”

  Silence. Amy sighed and glanced around. Before she knew it, her feet were on a mission of their own, and she stood in the hallway, staring into the open door of Luna’s room. In this place, it was clean and tidy, but it didn’t look like this in the Real World. There? It was a crime scene now, the carpet stained with her blood and crime scene tape roping it off.

  Another chill ran down her spine, and she was about to turn and leave when she almost bumped right into Rose. Gasping, Amy held a hand to her heart, and Rose took a step back, her green eyes wide with uncertainty.

  “I hardly recognized you,” the woman said at last, staring at Amy with an emotion that was hard to place.

  Amy bobbed her head. She could say the same. In life, Luna’s mother had had smooth bronze skin even in her middle-age and bright green eyes. She looked rough now, like a person who’s gone without sleep for so long that they no longer realize they’re tired.

  Amy let her pull her into a hug, and when they pulled apart, Rose said, “What are you doing here?”

  Amy gnawed on her lip, contemplating her plan of action. Her biggest fear had been coming to this place, she hadn’t even considered the best way to get the information that she was after once she was here.

  “I came to see you,” she said simply. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth.

  A small smile broke across Rose’s lips. “That’s sweet of you.”

  Amy’s lip quivered with her next question. It was almost easy to believe that Rose didn’t remember what her own daughter had done to her, and Amy wished it could be so, but there was a gleam in her eyes, a sparkle that told Amy there was something beneath the surface, something she wasn’t saying.

  Even so, it wouldn’t be an easy task to ask this woman if she knew she was dead.

  “I…Do…” Amy struggled against her tongue.

  Rose intently watched Amy, but when the girl couldn’t produce any words, she offered her own suggestion. “Do I know that I’m dead?”

  Amy swallowed, glad she hadn’t had to say the words, and nodded.

  That small bitter smile was back on Rose’s face again. “Yes, I know.”

  Amy pulled her into another hug. Now that that information was out there, there was so much more that could be passed between them without the use of words. Rose didn’t seem as relieved for the contact as Amy was.

  “Are you here about Luna?” Rose asked.

  Amy pulled away, staring at her. “How did you know?”

  Rose looked away, but Amy wasn’t going to press her for an answer. Instead, she followed the woman back to the living room where they both sat down on the couch.

  “Have you seen her…since…” Rose started and trailed off.

  Amy could guess the end of her question and shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”

  Rose nodded, and Amy couldn’t tell if that was a good answer or not.

  “I have some…questions for you,” Amy said. “And they might be difficult.”

  “Oh?” Rose asked, quizzical expression on her face.

  “You said…Luna has a sister?”

  Rose looked down at her hands. “Is there a reason you need to know?”

  Amy pursed her lips, considering. How could she possibly explain everything in a way that Rose would understand?

  “I don’t know how much you understand about this place,” Amy said, “but I’ll try to explain it the simplest way I know how. Luna lost her way, and we need someone who can balance her out. Someone who can bring her back.”

  Rose’s lip quivered, but her expression didn’t change, and Amy wondered just how much she understood about the situation. She didn’t want to bring in the term ‘magic’ or else she might lose the woman completely.

  “I can…almost understand that,” Rose said. “You want to rattle her so badly that she returns to being herself?”

  Amy bobbed her head from side to side. “Something like that, yes. Luna doesn’t know she has a sister, right?”

  “I never got around to telling her,” Rose admitted with a despondent sigh.

  “Do you know how to find her?”

  Rose’s eyes grew wide. “Why?”

  “I need to talk to her. It’s important.”

  The light in Rose’s eyes dimmed and she looked at the floor. “Well, then, I’m sorry to say, I don’t know where she could be.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE NEXT MORNING, Chance was gone again when Luna woke up, and she was relieved. She glanced at the end table beside the bed, remembering he had thrown his dagger there, but it was gone too. Sighing, she sat up and stretched, looking around the space. It wasn’t long before her freedom began to close in on her, and erratic with thoughts, Luna burst through the cabin door, feeling as if the air inside was suffocating her.

  Out in the woods, the air was clean and crisp, pushing away the musty air in her lungs. The change of scenery soothed her, albeit not much. She paced the clearing just outside the door as she caught her breath, remembering her conversation with Chance from the night before, and she felt herself beginning to grow angry. Instead of focusing on their son, he wasted his time worrying about her, worrying about her possibly running away.

  Doesn’t he understand that he’s the spider, and this is the web? I’m stuck here…there is no running away. Not now. Not anymore.

  The entire time she had known him, he had proven himself to be determined, not on
e to give up—his return after death was proof of that. So why did it seem as if he didn’t have that same level of resolve when it came to his son? Luna couldn’t figure it out.

  He must not care about Asher. Not in the same manner I do, at least, she resolved.

  Luna wasn’t going to bow her head, wasn’t going to cut her loses—not to this issue anyway. She was dead, so really, what did she have to lose by going directly into the fray? Her sanity had already disappeared, and there was a good chance she couldn’t physically be killed again so what exactly was Chance afraid of?

  And yes, Luna had decided it was fear that kept him away, because it was the only option that made sense. He was scared of something though what that something was stumped her. Was he worried that if she got Asher back she would drift away and things would go back to the way they used to be before her world had collapsed around her?

  Or did he simply think the mission wasn’t worth his time and energy?

  She clenched her teeth at the thought and had to force the thoughts away. His reasons didn’t matter, not really, because in the end, the result was the same. Chance wasn't ready to rise to the challenge.

  He was content with his life, with his hobby, but she wasn’t. In her mind, she saw Asher, both in death and in the dreams. He had been content in his place in her old roommate’s arms, as if he belonged there, but Luna didn’t feel the same. She was ready to have him back, to take claim of her life.

  And she’d do it alone if she needed to.

  I could find Max, I can find Amanda, she told herself.

  There weren’t very many clues to point Luna in the right direction as to where Amanda was or could be. The last conversation she had had with her had been limited, and Luna realized now that was probably a safety precaution to ensure that Amanda didn’t give away more information than was necessary. Luna admitted to herself that was quite a setback, but not enough of one to change her mind about what she was going to do. Fortunately for her, Luna knew Amanda’s family well enough to guess where she might be.

  And that was the most accurate word—guess. Amanda came from money—she cherished everything and nothing at the same time. Luna could draw a map of all the possibilities and still probably miss her mark by miles.

  Where would I go if I could go anywhere? Luna asked herself but frowned. The thought hurt her head. To Luna, if she could go anywhere, she would do just that. She would continue to travel, to run away from herself, forever if she could. Amanda wasn’t like that though. She loved people and sunshine, anyplace where there was likely to be laughter, friendship, and warmth.

  I’ll start out small, Luna decided.

  With that, she traveled through the woods, to places that might hold a trace of her old friend. She ran through the list—her parents’ house, their old apartment in Lima, her favorite café—but every idea Luna had ended in the same ultimate failure. Luna would’ve been happy to never visit another public place on this side of the Realm again.

  The emptiness of the café had chilled her in a way that even the cabin hadn’t managed to do. Moving onto the next point on her list, Luna forced her discomfort down into the depths of her mind, and after a while, she began to doubt if she really knew Amanda after all.

  Don’t give up, she told herself, forcing herself to remember how passive Chance had sounded the night before. If she didn’t do this, no one would. She pushed on, motivation stemming from a multitude of sources—finding her son was the strongest, of course, but so was determination to prove Chance wrong.

  The trip, much longer than Luna had anticipated, wore on her. What started out as a fiery strut reduced itself to a desperate lurching gait and eventually a slow walk with dragged feet. Exhausted, she forced her feet to slide across the forest floor with the knowledge she had been gone for a while—hours, possibly a majority of the day—and Chance was bound to have noticed her disappearance. For a moment, that thought was enough to get her to hesitate, to consider calling it quits. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried—she had given it her all—but still she was failing.

  The new part of her yearned to go back to the cabin, to have Chance pamper her and tell her everything would be okay. That’d she’d done her best.

  Her face hardened at the thought. But I haven’t done everything I could, and it’s not okay to still be this far off the mark. The fact you would even feel that way for an instant proves it. She was mad at herself to say the least, and immediately put the anger to good use. It erased her pain, pushing her to go on.

  She made a promise to herself not to stop until she simply collapsed from exhaustion and had no other choice. That’s when a formidable building with purple siding and pink shutters like Barbie’s dream home came into view. It was a mansion, one so glorious it spurred a bit of jealousy in Luna’s heart. Her parents had scrimped and sacrificed for the home she had grown up in, and it couldn’t even compare.

  Feelings aside, Luna hobbled toward it. The windows and doors were gone, much the way they are in an abandoned building. Then realization hit, and Luna felt a twinge of pain in her heart that made sure she felt guilty for her earlier envy. Amanda’s childhood home had burned to the ground sometime before her age hit double digits, killing her brother in the process. When they lived together, Amanda had mentioned Seth fleetingly, but not in any great detail—just enough for Luna to know memories of him were painful.

  So why would she want to relive the worst memory of her life?

  It is Hell, Luna told herself then frowned. If she found her brother here, it can’t be all bad.

  Luna approached the building, a mix of sadness and foreboding running down her spine. Would Amanda really be here? And if she wasn’t, was Seth? The image of Susan’s burning body filled her mind, and she dry heaved, glad that her empty stomach couldn’t produce anything for her to throw up. Did she really want to take a risk of meeting Amanda’s long-lost brother?

  Asher could be here, she told herself, closed her eyes and took a long breath before opening her eyes again. It could be another dead end. Indecision clawed at her. The more Luna observed the building, the more the place reminded her of the house Chance had stayed in during high school. The dilapidation, the certainty that it would collapse on her the moment she stepped inside, the smell. The scar in her stomach burned with the memory.

  I have to find out, she told herself sternly. This is for Asher.

  It didn’t make the situation any easier.

  The porch beneath her feet creaked as she tiptoed onto it, but she didn’t pause. If she did now, she would chicken out on the whole mission and give New Luna her wish—to go home, curl up with Chance, and wait to see what he planned to do. Luna frowned at the thought, envisioning storming back to the cabin and dragging Chance here to confront Amanda—a compromise that both halves of her could agree on.

  It wouldn’t work though, and she shot it down without giving it much time to fester—the idea of Chance doing anything she said was comical, not to mention the fact that Amanda might be long gone before she got back.

  “Now or never,” Luna whispered to herself, and that was all the encouragement she needed as she crossed the threshold into the ruined living room. Her eyes caught sight of the burned belongings and a frown edged its way onto her face. Why would Amanda stay in the burned version of her beloved home when she could choose to be in the pre-fire version instead?

  Not everyone is as good at manipulating DreamWorld as Chance, she reminded herself brusquely. And not everyone shares your gift. Understanding of Chance’s fascination with her abilities accompanied her thought. All she had done was take them for granted, and she couldn’t really understand why.

  What kind of person doesn’t want to be powerful?

  Or maybe this is her Hell, Luna mused. It certainly made sense, and that only served to make Luna feel worse.

  Sympathy suddenly made its way into the soup of emotions her brain stewed in. If she really did find Amanda, she had no idea where she would even begin. A proper greetin
g? An apology? A conversation like nothing had changed since the last time they had seen one another?

  Hey, girl, long time no see. How are you enjoying the dead scene? Luna imagined the conversation with a scoff. Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. The blast of air caused a hitch in her breathing, and Luna coughed as a puff of dust flew up her nose. When Amanda had died, there had been no bad blood between them, but the encounter before Luna’s death had created some for sure—at least on Luna’s end. If I find her, I’m going to be a mixed bag of psycho.

  She paused at the thought. Just how capable of controlling herself was she? If it came down to it, would she kill Amanda to get her son back?

  Could she?

  Luna stood in the ruins of the burned hallway, clenching and unclenching her hands from fists, and found that she didn’t have an answer to that question. That scared her more than anything else.

  I’m becoming Chance.

  Remembering her coughing fit, she resisted the urge to scoff again and focused her attention on her devastated surroundings. Amanda might’ve been in good graces before her untimely death, but she had suffered for it as a child. Amanda was also so optimistic, so upbeat, that it was hard for Luna to believe she had ever suffered. But she did, Luna thought, staring at the burned remains of a family picture. There can’t be a rainbow without some rain.

  Luna lifted her hand, pulling her sleeve over her face to filter out the dusty air as she made her way down the hallway. The deeper into the building she traveled, the darker it grew, and she wondered why that was. Most of the roof was gone so it had to be a trick of the Realm…or a trap. Nerves on edge, she continued into the first room she saw and froze like a deer in the headlights in the doorframe. It was dark inside, and Luna looked up, noticing the eerie way the ceiling moved slightly in the breeze. It was a tarp, put up to keep out the sunlight and the elements. Heart thudding, Luna’s gaze dropped back to the room, and in the darkness, she could see baby things littering the space—a crib, clothes, and bottles—all of them unaffected by the char marks that scored the rest of the house.