Sight Unseen

by AnonYMous

  “Remember,” he said softly, “I survived far longer than my physicians ever expected me to, so I could meet you. So we could be together.”

  The voice in her head asked, gently but firmly, Do you still wish to proceed?

  Fresh tears fell down her face, then she took his hand.

  Together they walked forward.

  Chapter 9

  The moment they crossed the threshold, the brightly lit opacity inside the Elders’ Temple became a . . .

  Vitalis lacked the vocabulary to describe it, a vastness that seemed to contain nothing, yet was not empty. She had a sense of life, of movement, of richness and vibrancy, none of it visible, yet all of it clearly felt.

  “It’s beautiful,” murmured Eleian.

  Only as he spoke did she realize that they were still walking, but there was nothing underfoot.

  She was familiar with weightlessness, having trained in simulated zero-g environments, not to mentioned having been courted by her prince in a gravity-free dance sphere. This was not weightlessness, which left one adrift, unless there happened to be an object nearby against which one could push off. Here they merely continued to walk—and the apparent formlessness on which they trod gave them the correct reaction force to move forward.

  Looking back, she couldn’t tell where the door through which they entered might be. The same limitless non-emptiness stretched in every direction.

  To think that such an environment existed in the universe—how narrow her imagination had been, how slight her knowledge.

  Prepare your defense.

  She and Eleian exchanged a glance. A defense against what?

  All of a sudden they found themselves on an ice moon not unlike the one in Captain Odyssia and the Renegades. Except . . . whereas the other one had appeared real enough to make her gasp in appreciation, with this one she couldn’t tell that she wasn’t actually standing on frozen methane.

  Is this a simulation? she asked in thought.

  Is that what you think?

  But already the ice moon was receding. The green- and orange-banded Jovian giant around which it orbited also receded. She was now looking at the steady, slow-burning star that held together the system.

  Was this what she was supposed to defend?

  The star too was receding, hurtling into space. She didn’t know how she could tell, but she knew from a single glance that it was traveling too fast—that something more than the spin of a galaxy powered its trajectory.

  Without thinking she flicked her fingers—the star accelerated even more.

  “It’s a weapon,” said Eleian.

  “I could be wrong,” she replied slowly, “but I have a suspicion that it might be only ammo.”

  What kind of battle were they fighting that a star was but a bullet?

  And but one among many. For the star was part of an enormous, evenly spaced cluster—a hailstorm of bullets, all hurtling toward a nebulous object that seemed unimaginably distant.

  “The Devourer!” she and Eleian cried out together.

  The Destroyer of Universes.

  It was said that too many universes experienced but a brief burst of luminosity before succumbing to the predation of the Devourer. They spent the rest of eternity at maximum entropy, lightless and dead. The Mother of Universes, heartbroken for Her children, created gods to safeguard those universes that were still shining and alive.

  Prepare to defend, the voice had said.

  Defend the entire universe?

  Part of her brain shut down at the very enormity of the thought. But a different part came alive—she would be working on the grandest scale possible, certainly, but warfare was warfare, and a large part of her training had been military.

  Galaxy walls were needed at the forefront, ramparts of the defense. Nebulas and star nurseries must be gathered and protected, the greatest active galactic nuclei drafted to aim and lob chains of lesser singularities.

  She thought she was talking to Eleian, explaining her plan—and that he was responding, expanding on her ideas and adding his own. But they were not speaking; they were communicating directly via thoughts.

  She felt his astonishment upon this realization—as she felt her own. And his marvel—and hers—as the superstructures of the universe responded to their commands, their power.

  Massive stars on the verge of self-destruction were plucked, like pearls from the sea, to undergo core collapse just as they reached the Devourer’s maw—the Destroyer of Universes might love to ingest stars, but supernovae irritated it, as a fritter freshly removed the frying pan might burn a child’s tongue.

  The resulting singularities weakened the Devourer’s structural integrity. But such hits were hardly fatal. Indeed, they were only distractions: a rain of stars to keep it busy feeding, supernovae at random intervals to poke at the Beast, a lashing of five-thousand-light-year-long jet ejection to enrage it.

  All the while, in secret, Vitalis and Eleian wrought their true weapon, a scythe invisible to the Devourer, fashioned of innumerable dark galaxies. It took all their will and strength to propel this immense blade across the final thousand light years and stab the Destroyer of Universes directly in the maw.

  The convulsions of the Devourer brought down a million-light-year section of the galaxy wall. But at last, it retreated, red-shifting toward the edge of the universe.

  Vitalis and Eleian slumped against each other, exhausted. Their tactical suits were in tatters and the sigil on his arm glowed. This time she recognized all the designs: the first represented the Mother of Universes, the second the map of the multiverse, the third the shape of their own universe, and the last the symbol of the great god Metaran.

  “Look at your arm,” said Eleian.

  There it was, the sigil she had suspected she carried. It was exactly the same as his for the first three designs, but the last was five sinuous lines in an intricate interlocked pattern, the symbol of the great goddess Mikelan.

  Well done. The voice came back. As a reward for your remarkable joint performance, you may withdraw from the Test.

  “But what’s the condition?” Vitalis demanded.

  You will not return in the same bodies, but they will be young, healthy bodies.

  “What about the people of Pax Cara? Will they suffer should I choose to withdraw now from the Test?”

  We cannot make promises.

  “Then I cannot abandon the Test.” She turned to him. “But you can still leave.”

  He kissed her on her hair. “How many times do I have to say I will stay with you until the end? Are you in need of a hearing aid, princess?”

  She laughed—and screamed in agony.

  “No!” Eleian cried. “No!”

  One of the Devourer’s fangs, a parting gift, had pierced her in the chest.

  And now it is too late. You will die here.

  She coughed and spat out a stream of blood. Then, with as much effort as it took to skewer the Devourer, she smiled at the man she loved. “By the way, do you believe in life after death?”

  She did not hear his answer.

  *

  She woke up to sunshine and birdsong.

  Somewhere nearby, a fountain bubbled. The air was heady with the perfume of flowers and dew-flecked grass.

  She rose from the silk-draped bed and walked to the window. Outside was a large terrace, and beyond, a beautiful garden.

  She recognized the place. It was her home, her divine abode. She had built it two mortal incarnations ago.

  The Mother of Universes created gods to defend her children. Vitalis and her mate sat at the head of the Council of Gods in this universe. Mikelan and Metaran, they were sometimes called, among the countless other names they had accumulated through the eons.

  But fearsome powers must only be wielded by those who were pure of heart. So in each age, each god took a mortal birth. Only those who proved that they were willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of others returned to the Council of Gods, to confront the Devourer
once again.

  Sometimes, a much beloved god did not pass the Test. And sometimes, things went wrong. Her brother had not come back from his Test. And her mate, when his turn had come, had gone missing. Away from safe planets like Pax Cara, away from the nourishment of Mother’s Light—or the Pax Cara radiation, as the mortals in that particular part of the universe called it—a god in mortal form could not long endure.

  Distraught, she, who had already passed her Test, took mortal form again, to find her mate.

  You brought me home, said someone behind her.

  I always knew there was something else on my to-do list, besides the Pax Cara Event. She took his hand in hers—those freshly returned from mortal realms had a tendency to keep those forms for some time. And you too, you brought me home.

  We will not have long to bask in our homecoming. The Devourer is on the move again.

  The battle they had won during the Test had been a simulation of their last major campaign against the Destroyer of Universes, in which she had sustained a near fatal wound.

  But she had recovered and she was ready. She leaned back against him. We will fight when the time comes. Now we celebrate.

  He wrapped her in his arms. In reverence I offer myself to thee, o goddess great and exalted.

  There was a teasing note to his words. She laughed, feeling young and eternal at once.

  Yes, this was happiness, beautiful and precious even to the gods.

  Especially to the gods, whose fate is entwined with the life and death of the universe.

  About the Authors

  Emma Barry

  Emma Barry is a novelist, full-time mama, and recovering academic. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves hugs from her twins, her husband’s cooking, her cat’s whiskers, her dog’s tail, and Earl Grey tea. You can find her on the web at www.authoremmabarry.com.

  Meredith Duran

  Meredith Duran is the author of eleven novels, all published by Pocket Books. Her debut, The Duke of Shadows, has been translated into thirteen languages and together with her sophomore book, Bound by Your Touch, was ranked among the top 100 romances of all time in the 2010 All About Romance poll. Her other books include RITA award winner Fool Me Twice; Wicked Becomes You, which was included on Woman’s World list of Best Beach Reads for Summer 2010; and her February 2017 release, A Lady’s Code of Misconduct, which both Kirkus and Publishers Weekly called “flawlessly executed” in their starred reviews.

  Meredith blames Anne Boleyn for sparking her lifelong obsession with British history, and for convincing her that princely love is no prize if it doesn’t come with a happily-ever-after. When not writing, Meredith enjoys collecting old etiquette manuals, guidebooks to nineteenth century London, and travelogues by intrepid Victorian women.

  J.A. Rock

  J.A. Rock is the author or coauthor of over twenty LGBTQ romance, suspense, and horror novels, as well as an occasional contributor to HuffPo Queer Voices. J.A. has received Lambda Literary and INDIEFAB Award nominations for Minotaur, and The Subs Club received the 2016 National Leather Association-International Pauline Reage Novel Award. J.A. lives in Chicago with an extremely judgmental dog, Professor Anne Studebaker.

  Website: www.jarockauthor.com

  Blog: jarockauthor.blogspot.com

  Twitter: twitter.com/jarockauthor

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/ja.rock.39

  Erin Satie

  Erin Satie is the author of the dark and elegant No Better Angels series, historical romances set in the early Victorian period. She’s currently hard at work on her upcoming series, Sweetness & Light, which should be just as elegant but not quite so dark.

  Erin is a California native who’s lived on the coasts and in the heartland, in tiny city apartments and on a working farm. She studied art history in both college and graduate school—research is always her favorite part of starting a new book.

  Her favorite part of finishing a book, whether reading or writing, is the happily ever after.

  Website: www.erinsatie.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/erinsatie

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/erinsatie

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/2DiAf

  Sherry Thomas

  USA Today-bestselling author Sherry Thomas loves intricate plots, explosive action, and combustible love stories. She has written romance, fantasy, mystery, and a wuxia-inspired duology. Her books regularly receive starred reviews and best-of-the-year honors from trade publications, including such outlets as the New York Times and National Public Radio. She is also a two-time winner of Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award.

  And by the way, English is her second language.

  You can find out more about Sherry’s books at SherryThomas.com.

  Acknowledgments

  I am now and forever grateful for my critique partner Genevieve Turner who did not laugh when I sent this to her. Her notes and support made it so much stronger. I must also send appreciation to Kim Egolf and Olivia Dade for encouraging this project and talking through it with me when I was stuck, to May Peterson for editing it beautifully, and to Judith Utz for accidentally including it in this volume (ha, I tricked her). My husband and children have my love always and my apologies for my occasional preoccupation with fictional people.

  Most of all, though, this story is for the people who told me no, because without them, I never would have written it.

  *

  A huge thanks to Judith for including me in this project. To May, for your insightful editing. And to my mother, for teaching me to rawk.

  *

  Janine Ballard, for her thorough critique.

  Kate Ramirez, for her timely read and encouragement.

  May Petersen, for bolstering my faith in this story.

  Judith Utz, for organizing this anthology and giving me a reason to finish a manuscript I started five years ago.

  And you, dear reader, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  About Open Ink Press

  Created in 2016, Open Ink Press is a small independent publisher of works of genre fiction, including Young Adult, New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Historical, Urban Fantasy, and Fantasy. We welcome original submissions from any of these categories. We believe that all stories deserve to be told and all audiences need their own stories. We believe in love in all forms. We’re a small press for big minds and would love to hear from you.

  Visit us at openinkpress.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines or on Perspectives, Open Ink’s blog featuring the talents of many well-known authors, artists, and creatives.

  Other unique projects out now from Open Ink Press:

  All in Fear: A Collection of Six Horror Tales

  Featuring the talents of:

  KJ Charles, Steve Berman, Roan Parrish, Avon Gale, J.A. Rock, and Kris Ripper

  Horror wears many faces and its masks can be tantalizing. Some of the top names in queer fiction come together to spin their own versions of horror. Worlds rife with dark beauty and mystery, the familiar becoming terrible, creatures ethereal and alluring—and all bearing the gleam of love. Does hope lie along these grim passages or only doom? It will become clear. All in time—and all in fear.

  Learn more on Open Ink Press.

  *

  Follow Me Into Darkness: Five Tales of Carnivale Romance

  Featuring the talents of:

  J.R. Gray, Santino Hassell, J.C. Lillis, Roan Parrish, and Kris Ripper

  Carnivale is a time for decadence, for revelry, and for mischief. A time when we shed the figurative masks we wear in everyday life in favor of new ones . . . ones that allow us to be a little bolder, a little more adventurous, and perhaps a little truer to ourselves. Follow Me Into Darkness is a compilation of original tales of queer romance by five of the premier authors of contemporary romance.

  Learn more on Open Ink Press.

  Thank you to Anna Hullum whose help, as always, is immeasurable;

  to May for never being anyth
ing short of extraordinary;

  to Christine who offered boundless support as this came together yet will never, ever read this;

  and to you for never doubting.

  -the woman behind the curtain