“I said goodbye to her.” Nathaniel winked at Sybil. “If you want to know how….”
“Ew,” Sybil gave him a little shove and headed onto the ship. Nathaniel cast his gaze across the hangar, where Eliza was waiting. She had come with her royal escort as if this was an official visit. She simply wanted to say goodbye to her honored guests–nothing out of the normal about that.
Except for the fact that Nathaniel could not take her into his arms and kiss her like he wanted to. Instead, he composed himself as she came closer.
“It has been an honor hosting you, Maestro,” she said formally. “I hope you will visit us again.”
She had a crown on her head, and she was dressed in full regalia. But underneath, Nathaniel could still see her sparkling eyes, her full lips–the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with during quiet moments. Eliza liked to put walls up, but he knew what was beneath them.
He would miss her, but he had a life to complete first, and she understood that. As Eliza's loyalty was to her people and her country, his was to the witches and his Tiro. But one day, and one day soon, he would return.
“It was an honor to be hosted by such a lovely queen,” he said. “And I am quite sure we will see each other very soon.”
He bowed deeply to her, and she smiled, curtsying just a little.
Desmond watched from across the hangar where he was standing with Mariah, wanting to be apart from the crowd.
“Nathaniel acts as if everything hasn't changed,” Desmond said. “As if we are just going to go back to our old lives, and no one will notice.”
“Maybe,” Mariah said. “But I think what you need to see, Desmond, is that he is happy. He's all right.”
“Hmmm?” Desmond turned his head toward her, confused at her point.
“You saw him at a tournament. You felt a bond. You trained him to adulthood. He has stayed loyal to the witches and complimented your magic every step of the way. I know that right now you feel as if your touch turns everything to stone, but it does not. He is truly happy in this moment. And we find our successes in that.”
“But he could stay here,” Desmond said, “if he wasn't a witch.”
“Pht,” Mariah smiled. “He doesn't want that, and neither does Eliza. They are both too wild for the domestic life you and I crave. What they have right now, just this way, is perfect. What you have given him is the perfect life – the perfect moment. You have succeeded.”
“I suppose that you are right,” Desmond said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “In that, at least.”
“And in a young woman pilot back home,” Mariah said, “who lost all hope one day after one quick moment in battle. Without you, Christa might never have realized her full potential.”
“She gave me hope, after Reynolds,” Desmond said softly.
“You did not fail with Reynolds,” Mariah said. “From the story you told me, he still spared you. So somewhere, he may have lost his way, but not his heart.”
“Oh,” Desmond said, his voice cracking, “Mariah...”
“And you have my heart,” she said, squeezing his hand. “As well as inspiring countless others along the way. So many look up to you, hear your stories, and listen to your lessons. Including a little girl in the ship right now who needs you. So, no, Desmond, do not think for one moment that you failed; that you couldn't do it, or anything that you've set your mind to.”
He smiled at her, shifting to rub her back gently. “You're right,” he said. “But I couldn't have done it without you.”
Mariah chuckled softly. “Well, that goes without saying,” she said. “Shall we board?”
Devon and Laura were already on board, having agreed to pilot together one last time. Laura spun the pilot's chair from side to side, watching as Devon set the co-pilot controls.
“You could be a pilot,” she said. “You're good at it. Commercial transport. Maybe medical transport in the war zones?”
“There's an idea,” he grinned at her. “Flying with my own hospital set up everywhere? It's brilliant.”
“I'm always brilliant,” she smiled as he flipped the last few switches. “And frankly, I think the Jurors are going to praise us for doing as well as we did, given the circumstances.”
“When they are done yelling,” Devon replied with a smirk. “Think you can take it?”
“I can manage,” she said. “Set your coordinates. You're still my Tiro for the time being.”
He was tempted to put in the wrong coordinates just to tease her, but decided against it. “Are you going to go right to the tournaments?” he asked. “Pick up a new me?”
“I don't know,” she answered. “I thought I might go off on my own for a while before I did that. You and I clicked so soon. I didn't get much of a chance to explore solo missions.”
“You should, though,” he said. “I mean, please, explore solo missions. But you should get a new Tiro. You're a good Maestro, Laura.”
“I….” She paused. “Devon, have you thought about just taking the tests?”
His jaw dropped. “I'm sorry?”
“You've already made up your mind that you aren't going to burden me any longer, not that I think you're a burden, of course,” she said. “But you've had all this training. You could at least try, and then you'd be in charge of your own fate. Take the quests you want, go solo, don't take a Tiro. And if it doesn't work, you have a back-up plan. I've accepted that.”
“I'm not ready,” he said, and she shrugged.
“You'll be sixteen in a few months. You could be.”
“I….” That was young, even for the most competent. But Laura's eyes were sparkling, and he realized she was serious. “Maybe. You really think that I could pass?”
“I actually do,” she said. “I didn't suggest it because you are young, and it would be unheard of. But I know you don't hate magic, Devon. You just don't want to drag someone along because you are strong and fiercely independent, as you have always been. But it doesn't mean you have to run if you don't want to.”
He really hadn't considered this option. He didn't know if he could give her an answer right away, so he just shrugged.
“It means you could stay with Sienna longer,” Laura pointed out, and he laughed.
“Fine, yes, I'll consider it. Damn you.”
“Like I don't know you,” she teased him as they heard the others coming on board.
“This is going to be refreshing,” Nathaniel said as he took in the sight of the two of them. “I'll just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
“We like to fly upside down,” Laura said, with a grin, as they all took their seats on the bridge. Takeoff was always a beautiful sight, and everyone wanted to witness it.
Laura activated the takeoff sequence, and soon, Jeffro was below them.
Each of them were returning to a different fate than they left, along with an uncertain future. But surrounded by those that they loved, it didn't seem frightening at all.
Sienna smiled at Devon as he let Laura steer, watching the trees turn to small sticks as they gained height.
He squeezed her hand discreetly, whispering to her words that she would never forget.
“You will always have magic,” he assured her, “for my heart is with you.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile.
Years ago, even a month ago, she might have been terrified in this situation. But now, she was excited to see what the future held for her. Magic or not, she had only hope and adventure in front of her. And she couldn't wait for that journey to begin, surrounded by those who gave her that strength and that magic.
*** THE END ***
The Plague (Preview)
Alternate Dimensions Book 1
Chapter One: The Wheels of Monotony Go Round and Round
“T first and you for calling Medelis Health Insurance. My name is Andi. May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
“Thank you. May I have the spelling
of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to use my most customer friendly voice. “May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Oh! Yeah.” The consumer continued on actually answering the question, and I did my best not to slam my head onto my desk. My doctor had told me that I had enough skull trauma to last a lifetime, and since he had a degree and I didn’t, I was more inclined to believe his medical opinion.
Thankfully, the rest of the call went more smoothly. The consumer listened as I explained what their vision benefits were and what doctors were in their network. It wasn’t even a five on the calls-from-hell scale and when it was over, I logged out of my phone and headed out.
“Another day, another dollar,” one of my coworkers said as she passed me in the hall.
“Ah yes, dollars. I love selling hours of my life for monetary gain. It’s fantastic.”
She laughed and kept on, but I couldn’t help but sigh. I mean, I knew I was lucky to have a fairly cushy job where I earned twelve dollars an hour, but call center life wasn’t exactly fulfilling. I was eternally grateful that I was gainfully employed, but I couldn’t help but stare out the windows beside my drab, gray cubicle, wishing for something more.
There had to be something more, right?
That was a rhetorical question, of course. No one answered me. Not that I expected anyone to. I’d been through enough therapy as a kid to know not to talk to the voices. Granted, they had faded right around the time I had hit puberty.
I hopped into my car and headed home, making sure to order some fast food that I could wolf down in shame in my cramped room for rent. Once I was inside, I peeled my pants off and collapsed on my beanbag, stuffing my face with some greasy thing or another. Today was one of my only days during the week without classes, and I kind of just wanted to be lazy instead of productive. I knew I should have gone to work out, but I wasn’t really feeling it.
I wasn’t feeling much of anything lately, other than anxiety.
I had periods of insomnia every now and then, and when I finally could sleep, my dreams were plagued with violent and stressful images. Granted, when I woke up, I could only remember faint echoes of discomfort. It didn’t help when your only respite from the world turned into another exercise in awful, and I was beginning to feel it fray at the edges of my psyche.
The food did help, though. All that salt and lipids. I remember girls in high school, who had always looked at me in such horror when I horked down food that they would have been teased for consuming. Thankfully, no one wanted to mess with the chubby redhead who had once dunked a bully head first into a trash can.
At least that hadn’t changed. Sure, it would be nice if I had the model waist and poise that all the magazines touted, but that wasn’t in the cards for me. I was quite tall, just over six feet, with wild, red hair that looked like lightning had just struck me. And I was solid. Not ripped like your average superhero, but that kind of stocky, hardworking body that you saw on farm boys and amazons. I was known among my friends for being just bizarrely strong enough for party tricks, but not enough for any competitions where it mattered.
Thinking of my friends just made me feel more miserable. It seemed like food wasn’t going to cut it. Groaning, I forced myself up to grab a book from my messenger bag, then fell back into my squishy chair.
It was a sci-fi thriller, very action oriented, and I had been following the series for a while. I didn’t know why, but something about it always felt comforting to me. It wasn’t like there was a same cast or running plot to get attached to; they were all just standalones in a connected universe. They were short, too, only a couple hundred pages, so I could finish them in a few hours. Not that I had ever had time to read anymore.
The hours passed as I sank into the literary world between my fingers. This particular tale focused on a mooreerie that only had three arms going on to become a multi-world champion fighter. Or at least trying to. Like any good book, there were plenty of plot twists and pitfalls.
When I finally finished the book, it was dark, and I realized I was pretty exhausted. But, there was a certain sense of satisfaction that I had reached the culmination of the fighter’s story. As much as I loved long series, it was sometimes nice to just get in and get out.
I stretched and flipped over the back of the book, which was formatted a bit differently from all the previous novels. This one had an ‘About the Author’ paragraph, and then a picture of her.
She was fairly different looking, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a very high forehead. She had large eyes that were complemented by a generous smattering of freckles that dotted her almost like camouflage.
“Jenna Vellock,” I pondered to myself.
For someone so unique looking, there was something vaguely familiar about her face. Like someone I had known once but hadn’t seen in several years. I stared at it for several long moments, sifting through memory after memory, but came up empty.
Eventually, I shrugged and tossed the book back into my bag. Dragging my butt to the kitchen, I helped myself to a large glass of water, then went about the rest of my nighttime routine. When I finally laid down in bed, I let out a long sigh. Sure, I had my rest for now, but tomorrow was just another day of the same drudgery it always was.
*
A cloud–dark, malevolent, and churning–filled up a chrome hall. Its voice thundered and clawed at my ears.
I looked around in confusion. Where was I? When was I? Everything was impossibly shiny and futuristic-looking, illuminated by highly filtered light.
I was distracted by the voice of someone small next to me. Familiar. Vaguely amphibious.
Gee-Gee!
I reached toward her without question, pulling my childhood friend to my form. The strange force tried to pull her away, but I kept a hold on her. Something dangerous was happening here, and I didn’t want her to be any part of it.
And then, suddenly, we were running down hallways that were much too bright, sliding under a door that slid down from the ceiling like a guillotine.
Just as abruptly as it started, I was spinning away, tumbling through I don’t know what, until I was in another hall and alarms were sounding all around me.
God, it was loud. Too loud. I could barely think. And why was everything so unnecessarily shiny? Like someone had gone a bit too crazy with the highlighter effect in a photo editing software.
My critique of the environment quickly vanished as something slammed into the wall behind me, and I was thrown forward. Right, I should probably pay attention to what was going on.
I scrambled to my feet, looking at the terrifyingly shaped dent in the metal partition that I had been leaning against. My mind tried to place what kind of figure could make a shape like that, but before it could supply an answer, claws ripped through the metal.
I… I should probably run now.
I turned and bolted, only vaguely aware of people shouting around me. Oh, I wasn’t alone.
There were three others with me, but their forms shook and winked out of my vision, like a weak signal on a TV. I couldn’t make out if I knew them or not, but for the moment we all seemed to be running in the same direction and that was good enough for me.
When was the last time I had run? It had been ages. As much as I loved pumping some iron, my soft and jiggly bits hated the inherent bouncing that came with ninety percent of cardio. And yet… I seemed to be racing along just fine.
We sprinted through hallway, after hallway, and the critical side of my mind began to wonder if any of us knew where we were going.
My answer came in the form of us being confronted by another solid door.
I heard more shouts, more orders, and someone rushed to a panel at the side of the entrance. He hooked something up to the square, and punched in something or other, and the door slid open.
Only to reveal several pairs of gnashing jaws on the other side.
“Oh, my god!” I heard myself scream. “Close it! Close it!!!”
The man darted forward to override whatever was happening with the door, but before he could, a too-long arm shot forward, it’s decrepit looking fingers wrapping around his waste and yanking him to the other side of the still-opening door. Although I couldn’t see his face, I certainly saw his blood as it sprayed across the floor.
I screamed. I was pretty sure I was crying as well as I stumbled backwards. But like something out of my worst nightmares, the monsters behind the door surged forward.
We all tried to run, the remaining figures and I, but I didn’t need the sharp smell of wet copper in the air to know that there was no use. I heard screams of pain, followed by the tearing of limbs, until finally those same claws hooked into me and yanked me backwards.
The last thing I saw was teeth… so many teeth…
And as the world faded, I slid into the desk of my statistics class. Already I couldn’t quite remember why I was sweating, or the reason fear was coiled so tightly in my belly.
…God, I hated statistics.
*
I woke up with a start, my heart beating hard enough to star in its own rhythm band. Gasping, I looked to my phone to see it was just five minutes before my alarm went off. Might as well get up and get going.
“Geeze that was a blast from the past.” I hadn’t dreamed of my childhood imaginary friend in ages. Probably…high school, at the latest? And what was with that terrifying second half? No thank you. It did make me wonder what my subconscious was going on about though, to cook up something like that. Sure, every kid had nightmares, but that had been pretty different from anything else I could remember.
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