Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 21 Capture

Darker Stars Beta CoverWe grounded to the soothing fragrance of flowers. It would have been difficult not to, seeing as our arms, legs, and faces were buried in them.

“What was that?” Javis was wild-eyed as he brushed pollen from the legs of his pants.

“I don’t know, but we have to go back. Let’s give it a day or two,” I said, pacing. “I need to think this through.”

“A day or two? I don’t trust that man, and we have no idea what type of time scheme his world has.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll go back tomorrow, the same time we left today, if possible. That will give us some idea of the day cycle there; and if it’s around the same time when we get there, we may get to see him outside again. Maybe one of us can distract him long enough to leave behind the baglamas, and the other can grab it. Then we can both transport home using our own pairs of travel glasses.”

“That plan makes more sense than anything else I’ve seen today.” Javis tapped at his head with a fist. “Or heard. How do we get past the dog?”

“You heard it, too? The voice telling us to leave?”

His scowl was replaced with an expression that reeked of I told you so. “That man was talking to the dog, responding to her whimpers and the words she put inside his head. I knew it!”

I huffed, leaving him standing there, ankle-deep in flowers, as I stepped up onto the path. He followed me, mumbling about how smart he was or something. I didn’t know because I’d stopped paying attention.

There was a group of people standing in front of the hospital. I pushed through to find two of the recovering Lost, with tears streaming down their faces, pounding at the door.

I pulled the nearest recovering Lost, a girl named Maya, into my arm as I rifled through my pockets for my key. She yelped when she recognized me, and then fell into a fit of loud, wet sobs.

“What happened?”

“He pushed us out. He—he said we should wait until you return.”

The lock clicked when I turned the key. I held the door open. Javis caught up to me once everyone had scrambled inside.

“Who said that, Maya? Who can’t deal with you anymore?”

“Valcas, I mean…Mr. Hall.”

The spaces behind my eyes burned with the information. How could he?

I placed my hands on the girl’s shoulders and held her out at arms-length. “Explain.”

“Curt and I had scheduled visitors…”

I nodded, acknowledging that the visitors must be the other people who’d been standing outside with the recovering Lost.

“You and Javis weren’t here, so we went to Mr. Hall’s office to check in our visitors. He sent us outside and told us to wait for you.”

Javis and I exchanged a glance.

“But afterwards, I remembered I left my sketchpad in my room, and I wanted to show my drawings to my brother. I tried to go back in to get it.” Her lower lip quivered. “But the door was locked.”

With the baglamas momentarily forgotten, I stormed through the hallway, with Javis at my heels. Father’s door was closed. I peppered the door with loud, angry knocks.

“Come in,” he called from inside the room.

I threw open the door and placed a hand on my hip. “Why did you send two of the recovering Lost and their visitors outside?”

He didn’t bother looking up from his papers. “I was busy, and it is a beautiful day. The flowers and suns help your mood, Silvie. Why shouldn’t they help theirs too?”

I hadn’t expected such a reasonable answer. He didn’t seem upset at all. If anything, he was eerily calm, and his words disarmed me. I dropped my hand from my hip and looked to Javis for help.

“After everyone went outside, one of the recovering Lost tried to get back inside, but she couldn’t.” Javis worked his jaw, as if he wasn’t sure how to raise such a serious accusation against Father. “The door was locked.”

Father looked up from his papers, finally, and gave Javis his full attention. “What do you mean the door was locked?”

“Silvie used her key to let everyone back inside. So, you mean you didn’t do it?”

I winced at Father’s tightly set lips. His eyes were filled with astonishment and pain.

“Of course not,” he said.

“Oh,” Javis said, his voice weak. I would have to thank him for putting himself out there, later. “Then that means…”

Father sat back in his chair and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “The hospital’s security has been breached.”

Javis and I checked in on each of the residents while Father initiated a flurry of activity, which involved inspections of both the house and the hospital and the installation of replacement locks on the doors.

When no one suspicious was found on the premises, Father handed me and Javis new keys. I bit my lip, unable to handle the disappointed look he gave us. I couldn’t believe I’d thought Father had locked out the recovering Lost. I’d been so taken back by what we found when we returned to Edgar. Not to mention my state of mind after our attempt to find my baglamas. Still, I was ashamed I’d let these events make me mistrust Father. He’d done nothing to deserve that.

***

Javis and I attempted to retrieve the baglamas the next day, before my morning shift.

I removed the travel glasses from my face to better see our surroundings. I couldn’t decipher any noise over the rumblings that announced our arrival. But by the time we’d finished grounding, a shriek erupted that made my skin crawl and tingle all over.

My gut reaction was to help someone who was in pain.

Javis held me back. “Silvie, no. Remember what the man in the tunic said about no one coming to visit him.”

“I know but—”

“Let’s check it out, carefully. Maybe he’s out for a walk…” He frowned. “In the dark with his creepy dog.”

“Then why would he be screaming?”

My question was answered a moment later when Javis and I stumbled upon the man and his dog. We’d been circling backwards, staying covered behind trees and looking through them, instead of behind us. When we backed up, something caught my foot and I flew backwards, landing on my butt.

The shrieking started again, only now it was right in front of me.

Javis ran to my side and pulled me up and away from the man in the tunic who was lying on his back. He rocked back and forth and pushed at the ground with his arms, struggling to get up. His feet wobbled up and down in front of him, without bending at the knees.

Eurig, his dog, sat at his side. She turned to Javis and me, catching both of us with her glowing eyes, and whimpered.

Your earthquake made him fall. You should not have returned.

She broke eye contact with us more quickly than she had during our last visit. As soon as I regained my wits, I pulled Javis out to an open space where we could run.

“Our earthquake?” I mumbled. “She must mean the impact of our arrival.”

“Yup, let’s bail. We’ll come back at a better time, if such a thing exists.”

“Call for help, Eurig!” the man yelled. “Make sure someone catches them!”

I shuddered at the wolfish howl that followed, a deep grow that swelled an octave higher before scooping back down again.

“Okay, here,” I said, indicating the open space before us with plenty of room to gain momentum for travel.

I slipped on the travel glasses and squeezed Javis’s hand.

We made it three steps before a half dozen men wearing tunics closed in on us and pulled us to the ground. I clawed at them with my fingernails, kicking at them as they tied my hands behind my back. Pain flashed behind my eyes. They’d nearly dislocated my shoulders in the process.

Three of the men dragged me and three dragged Javis through the gate and into the house. Without the brightness of the world’s moon, it took me a moment to adjust to the lack of light inside the house. Flames from torches flickered along the walls, mingling with the light from above—chandeliers filled with lit candles.

The men said nothing to us the entire time, even when they dropped us on the floor in front of a chaise lounge. I wriggled my shoulders to relieve the stiffness that had set in since my hands had been tied. I looked up and scowled. The man in the tunic lifted his head from a pillow and rolled to his side, resting his weight on a propped up arm.

Eurig sat next to him, curled up in a sleeping position, her eyes closed.

“Thank you, men,” said the man in the tunic. “I have something to say to our visitors, and then you will move them to a cell.”

The men grunted and stepped backward in a single file behind us, blocking the only exit I could find in the room.

I pulled at the binding around my hands, a material that had the silkiness of ribbon and the strength of rope. A cell?

The man in the tunic grinned at us. “My home has experienced unlikely weather conditions as of late. I felt the rumblings of an earthquake yesterday evening. Eurig and I went out for a walk this evening to be nearer, should the phenomenon repeat itself.” He grinned widely, showing us his full set of teeth. “And sure enough, it did.”

I bit my lip, frantically trying to figure how to get out of there. He hadn’t asked us a question, and I had nothing to say to him, so I kept my mouth shut. Javis sat with his legs crossed next to me, shaking.

“How did you arrive here?” the man in the tunic said, his eyes pinning me to the ground.

“We traveled,” I choked out.

A flicker of surprise shone in his eyes. “Using what method?”

Javis shot me a pointed look, but it wasn’t necessary. I had no intention of telling our captor about the travel glasses. Or that I knew anything about the baglamas.

“My men have ways of making you answer, children,” he warned. He shifted his weight back slightly.

I glared at him.

“Surely you two are able to speak. Eurig, we heard them outside when the girl tripped over me, didn’t we?”

The dog opened her eyes and tilted her head toward him. I couldn’t see the moon-glow in her eyes from where I sat when she let out a soft whimper.

“Eurig agrees with me, children. She says you can speak.”

My lips pulled into a frown. I hadn’t heard Eurig say anything. I hadn’t heard her words inside my head. But I had heard her whimper. Did Eurig have to be looking at a specific person, capturing them with her eyes, to be able to drop words in their head?

Javis and I exchanged a worried glance.

“I tire of waiting. Take them away.”

The men along the wall rushed forward, breaking out of their single file like marching band members scattering in different directions. Half of the men surrounded me, while the other half surrounded Javis. I don’t know why so many of them were necessary given our hands were tied behind our backs.

One of the men lifted me up in his arms and slung me over his back, with his companions flanking his sides. The more I kicked, the more he pinned my legs to his chest. But I didn’t yell out. I bit my tongue. The man in the tunic did not deserve my words.

Javis appeared not to be doing much better than I was. He was younger than me, but larger and stronger. Two of the men, both a head taller than him, had grabbed him beneath his armpits and were dragging him so that when he kicked, they lifted him up higher, leaving his legs to flail in the air.

Before we left the room, Eurig’s glowing eyes locked with mine. Her whimper was low and gritty, more of a growl.

I told you to leave. You should not have returned.

The man in the tunic stroked her head. “What’s wrong, my pet?”

She broke her gaze from mine and leaned into his petting before curling back into her sleeping position.

The men dragged Javis and me to separate cells, instead of the one cell the man in the tunic had warned us about.

“We’ll untie you,” one of the men said, his lips close to my ear. “But you should fear no less. We can rewrap your wrist as quickly as we did the last time,” he warned.

I twisted my face in horror at the sound of his voice. It was as if he literally gargled broken glass. I’d heard that expression before and thought I had an idea of what it meant, but now I had a real life audio-visual. His words undulated between low and high-pitched sounds, with the awful texture of sandpaper.

He stepped back and laughed at my reaction. “The punishments here are cruel,” he said, rubbing a hand across his throat. Then he clenched his jaw and sneered, as if he didn’t find the joke funny anymore.

His companion kept his strong grip around me while the man with the garbled voice untied and pulled at my bindings. The third man stood guard near the cell’s door, careful to allow himself and his companions to exit while leaving me trapped inside. The guard stayed behind and pressed his back against the opposite wall.

I shook out my arms and rubbed my wrists as I paced back and forth along the cell floor.

I looked out through the bars of the left front corner of my cell, noticing a man in a tunic who stood watching roughly ten feet away from where my guard stood across the wall in front of me.

I took this to mean that our cells were side by side. But I couldn’t see Javis because of the heavy wall between us. I also guessed his cell had metal bars in front like mine.

My teeth gnashed together.

The men had deprived us of being able to communicate in whispers, gestures, and glances. If we had something to say, we had to speak loudly enough for everyone to hear us, including those men who’d stayed behind and stood guard outside our cells.

I blinked at my guard.

He locked his gaze on me. This turned into a staring contest that continued until I began to feel uncomfortable. I switched to averting my eyes every time he caught me looking at him.

I slipped the travel glasses over my eyes and snickered, knowing the lenses were so dark the guard wouldn’t be able to tell whether I was looking at him or not.

“Silvie?”

I blinked and the guard faded from view, replaced by an all-white background. Javis’s face appeared like a cardboard cutout against it.

“Silvie,” he whispered.

“Excellent idea to call me using your pair of travel glasses,” I said, keeping my voice level at a low murmur.

“You too,” he said. “I was hoping you’d think of this, eventually.”

My lips pressed into a guilty grin. I shrugged. I didn’t want to tell him the real reason I was wearing the travel glasses, and the fewer words the guard overheard the better.

I retreated to the deepest corner of the cell and pressed my back to the wall and rested my cheek on my hand so the guard no longer had a head-on view of my lips moving. I hoped he’d think I was sick of our awkward staring contest. I leaned back slightly in an attempt to look like I was trying to get into a comfortable enough position to fall asleep.

“There isn’t enough room in my cell to gain the momentum needed for travel,” said Javis, his lips barely moving.

I peered up, over the glasses, briefly, to gain a sense of how high the cell was—to judge whether we could gain vertical momentum as opposed to running horizontally. The ceiling was no higher than the track on the upper level gymnasium. Even that wasn’t high enough for me to risk dropping to my death before the travel glasses ported me home.

“It’s not high enough, either,” I said. “Not that there’s anything in here I could use to get up there.”

“So what do we do? How do we get out of here?”

“We’ll have to wait until the doors open. Maybe then we’ll figure something out.”

“But we’ll be outnumbered.”

I cringed. He was right. The man in the tunic had too many of his lackeys on us. There was no use trying to mess with the cell door with our guards staring at us, either.

My guard cleared his throat.

“We should stop now, before they suspect something,” I said.

Javis tilted his head in a barely perceptible nod before letting out a huge yawn.

The skin above my eyes twisted. Oh shoot. My painted on eyebrows were probably smeared off by now. I rubbed my eyes anyway, taking Javis’s hint that we should look like we were falling asleep. He didn’t have to be so obvious, though.

He and the white background faded, leaving my cell feeling darker than before.

I left the travel glasses on my face and closed my eyes.

Continue the adventure with Chapter 22, to be posted June 10. Read Darker Stars from the beginning, and learn more about its serialization here.

Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 20

Darker Stars Beta Cover“You’ve been quiet. What’s wrong?”

Sloe looked up from the game board but didn’t meet Raven’s eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered.

Raven’s eyelids fluttered. She pressed her elbows forward, onto the table, and cradled her chin in her hands. “Somehow I doubt that because I’m winning.” Her smile held a touch of sadness.

Sloe furrowed a brow at the black and white board covered in flattened black and white stones. “I guess I’m a bit off today.”

He studied the board closely. After flipping two stones and moving one diagonally across three spaces, he cracked a smile.

Raven groaned.

“See,” said Sloe, meeting her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

She tilted her head and regarded him suspiciously. “Okay, then, if you weren’t thinking about the game earlier, what were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked you what was wrong, it seemed you finally focused on the game. And to do that, you had to stop thinking about something else.” She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. “What was it?”

He let out a slow, exaggerated breath and looked at her helplessly.

“Oooohhhh. It’s about the men who want the baglamas, isn’t it? What’s happening with that?”

“It’s been taken care of,” he said.

Her eyes grew wide. “You mean they have it? Now?”

He nodded.

“But how?” she sputtered. “And why didn’t you tell me?

“It’s a long story, and now that it’s dealt with I just want to put it in the past—to forget about it. And to be glad you’re safe.”

A rosy glow touched Raven’s cheeks. She smiled at him. Her smile faded when he looked away instead of returning the smile with one of his own.

She chewed on the insides of her cheeks. “Are you feeling bad about taking something that didn’t belong to you and giving it to someone else?”

Sloe’s face paled. “That’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

He tilted the board, letting the stones slide to the table’s edge, where he caught them in a leather pouch. After gathering the remaining stones and adding them to the bag, he slowly folded the game board.

“Sloe?” Raven said more emphatically. “What’s the other part? What else is going on?”

He stood from the table and looked around before tilting his head toward hers. In a low voice he said, “The Clock Tower’s in danger, and it’s all my fault.”

Every last hint of rosy pink drained from Raven’s face. “Does this have anything to do with the cloaked men?”

He nodded. “The hooded man showed up at the Clock Tower. Instead of using a one-way exit portal, he left by walking into the portal backwards—a portal I’d never seen before.”

Raven let out a small gasp. “Where did the portal come from?”

“I don’t know, but do you remember the cloaked men talking about destroying portals?”

“Yes.”

“What if they can build them, too?”

Raven gulped.

“My Dad locked the portal as well as he could, but now that the hooded man has found the Clock Tower, what’s to stop him from creating another one? As the keeper of the Clock Tower, no one is supposed to be able to enter without my father’s permission, and I know he hadn’t given access to the hooded man.”

Raven steadied herself by placing a hand on the table. “This isn’t your fault, Sloe. It’s mine. We need to figure a way to fix this. I have to help you.”

Sloe shook his head.

Light flickered in Raven’s eyes. “I disagree, but if you don’t think I can help, then what about the person who owns the baglamas—the person you took it from, the Healer’s granddaughter? Can’t you explain to her what happened? If they’re so talented and powerful, maybe they can help find a way out of this.”

“No,” he said, his voice small. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Raven’s face colored, her cheeks pinched. “If you hadn’t found the baglamas someone else would have found it for them. Maybe the cloaked men would have taken it from her directly. Either way, it would still be Silvie Hall’s problem, we just wouldn’t have known about it.”

Sloe shook his head. “Don’t you get it? That would have given her more time. We sped up the process and put her in danger sooner.”

“If you feel so bad about taking the baglamas, then why don’t you help her get it back?” She challenged him with a pout.

His lips moved, but all that escaped was wordless sputtering.

Continue the adventure with Chapter 21, to be posted June 6. Read Darker Stars from the beginning, and learn more about its serialization here.

Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 19 Treasure

Darker Stars Beta Cover“What was that about?” Javis asked me the next morning. We were walking back to the house, talking about Father’s gift to us, our pairs of travel glasses.

“Maybe Father needs time alone—to process everything,” I said.

“And that becomes our problem, how? He could travel. Why do we need to be the ones to go?”

“I don’t think that’s the problem. Think about it, Javis. Maybe it’s not as fun for him without Mother or his best friend.” I thought about my recent visit with Mother, in her past. I imagined Father was even lonelier without her.

Javis blinked rapidly and looked away. My eyes stung with tears. We were each other’s best friend. If I’d lost him and Mother, I don’t know what I’d do. Maybe I’d want to hole up somewhere, alone to grieve, too.

“Come on,” I said. “Forget about the travel glasses. You wanted to try traveling to the inter-world racing tracks using the baglamas.”

“Now?”

I knew he’d just gotten out of the hospital, but he looked as if nothing had happened to him. He didn’t appear the slightest bit sick. At least not on the outside.

“Father only gave us the morning off. I still have afternoon rounds, so it will be a short trip,” I said. “And if you suddenly don’t feel well or get tired, tell me and we can come right back.”

He looked at me, surprised. “Yeah, okay.”

With a smile as bittersweet as the chocolate drops Javis used to make my favorite cookies, I trotted up to my room to grab the instrument. It wasn’t leaning against my pillow, so I figured I’d left it on the chair next to my bed. My lower lip quivered as I gazed at the chair’s empty cushion.

“Where is it?” I whispered. I felt nothing but complete, utter disbelief.

I spun around, lifting up blankets, tossing pillows and socks, and checked every corner of the room. Rows of uniforms stared back at me from inside my closet. After rifling through the clothes, I surveyed the shelf above them, and pushed around the shoes that covered the closet floor.

I closed the closet door and turned around, pressing my back to it.

Rising panic filled my stomach and trailed up my chest. “Where could it be?” I muttered over and over again.

Javis’s face poked in through the door. “I’m getting old, not to mention bored, waiting downstairs—” His lips pulled back into a confused frown as he took in the mess I’d made. “What are you doing, Silvie?”

“The baglamas,” I said, shaking. “It’s gone. I can’t find it anywhere.”

Javis stepped over blankets and shuffled a hand through his dark curls as he approached. When he found an uncovered spot on the floor, he raised his hands and brought them down slowly. “Okay, calm down. Where did you last see the baglamas?”

“I thought I left it on my bed. I usually keep it on the chair, but yesterday… I remember moving it over to the bed.”

Javis cradled his chin in his hand. “Who else has been in your room lately?”

“Father never comes in here. So no one other than you, Sloe, and me.”

Javis and I blinked at each other. I knew Javis hadn’t taken the baglamas. He wasn’t home long enough to have done so as a joke. Father had no reason to raid my room while I was away, and had spent most of the day before with Javis. That left—

“You don’t think Sloe took it,” I said, shaking my head, not wanting it to be true. “Why would he? What would he want with the baglamas?” I squeaked. “I hadn’t even told him what it was or what it can do.”

Javis’s lips pulled together tightly. He lowered his eyes. “You didn’t need to. He was at Grandpa Plaka’s funeral.”

My cheeks burned as I blinked back tears. I trusted him. And he stole from me? Javis was right. Sloe had been at Grandpa Plaka’s funeral, and he should have known how much the baglamas meant to me. How could he do this?

“Looks like we’ll get to try out the travel glasses today, after all,” I said, through gritted teeth.

Javis’s eyes widened. “Are we searching for Sloe, specifically, or are we going to search for whoever has the baglamas right now?”

“What’s the difference?” I groaned.

“Maybe it wasn’t Sloe,” said Javis, jamming his hands in his pockets. “What if one of the recovering Lost wandered in here somehow? Sloe’s not the only person who can travel to Edgar from other worlds.”

I glared at him, both because he suddenly seemed to be taking Sloe’s side, and because his ideas were so reasonable. And calm. He was nowhere near hysterics like I was.

Javis smoothed the cover at the edge of my bed and sat down. “Silvie, think about it. Trying to find Sloe because we have a far-fetched reason to suspect him would be a waste of time—especially if we travel to him and find out he doesn’t have it. It would be an extra step, when we could go directly to and confront whoever has the baglamas right now.”

“You’re right,” I said, quietly. “Given Father’s warning about how the travel glasses will affect our eyes, the fewer trips made, the better.” I wanted to reserve as much use of the travel glasses as possible to visit Mother.

“So do we go now?” Javis jumped from his seated position.

“Yeah, let’s clean this mess up first, and then we’ll go outside to gain the necessary momentum for travel.”

***

Since the loss of the baglamas was mine, not Javis’s, I offered to transport us using my pair of travel glasses. I felt I knew the instrument in greater detail, anyway. I also wanted to exercise my Remnant Transporter talent. Even though Javis was not a silhouette, a remnant of the past, I wanted to get more used to transporting others with me through time and space. He’d grudgingly accepted, and had stowed his pair of travel glasses in a case inside his backpack.

We stood side by side on the path between the house and the hospital.

I sucked in a shaky breath. I really, really hoped Sloe wouldn’t be there, wherever Javis and I were headed.

“Are you ready?” I said.

Javis nodded.

“Good.” I grasped his hand. “Run on three. One. Two. Three!”

Our feet pressed into a hard run, thudding noisily against the path. I could feel Javis tugging me forward, his speed far more impressive than mine.

I pushed all remaining thoughts of Sloe from my mind and focused on the instrument, the object I desired to find more than anything in this moment—the baglamas as it existed and where it was right now.

Javis groaned aloud as everything around us went white.

When the brightness faded, we were surrounded by an eerie, piercing darkness.

We lowered ourselves so we could ground. I slipped the glasses back from my face and found Javis, next to me, rubbing his eyes.

I smirked. “You could have shut your eyes, you know.”

You try running with your eyes closed sometime!”

“Not so loud,” I said, looking around. “I don’t want whoever took my baglamas to know we’re here, at least not yet.”

Trees swayed and bent as the ground below us trembled. A fat moon hung in the sky, casting light among the shadows. In the distance, stood a building the size of a mansion with jagged spires. Had it not been for the moon and occasional flicker of light from the building’s many windows, it would have been difficult to distinguish it from the darkness.

I hiccupped, surprised, at the rustle of leaves behind us. Slowly, I repositioned myself so I faced the direction of the sound while still keeping low to the ground. I squatted to the side until there was a tree between me and where the noise had been.

Following my lead, Javis got into position behind me. “Where do we start?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I half expected to land right next to the baglamas.” I thought of Mother and our trip to the pie shop, remembering how much she wanted key lime pie. She still had needed to go inside the store and buy one. We hadn’t landed in an empty field with a pie sitting there waiting for us; it wasn’t instantaneous. Yet, her task seemed more obvious than this one.

“We could take a look around.” I shuddered. “But I don’t know how we’d get into that house over there without being invited, or how to explain why we’re here.”

Javis let out a slow breath. “Yeah, and I’m sure our explanation wouldn’t go over well.”

“Exactly.”

I stepped backward at the sound of more rustling of leaves. A moment later I heard a high-pitched, twangy chord that was wildly out of tune. I whipped my head around and pressed my back against the tree.

Moments later, Javis and I poked our heads out from behind the trunk. “Where’s that coming from? The trees or the house?”

“The house, I think,” I said, craning my neck toward the sound.

“I wonder if whoever’s playing the baglamas heard and felt the rumbling from our arrival.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “What I want to know is why the baglamas is being played, and whether whoever’s playing it is trying to travel.”

“Don’t worry,” said Javis. “If they go somewhere else, we’ll just follow again by using the travel glasses.”

His words gave me some measure of comfort.

“You’re right,” I said. If this failed, we’d keep trying. And as much as I didn’t want to get Father involved, if Javis and I came across obstacles we couldn’t handle on our own, we could always ask Father for help. If he knew someone from a place like this had somehow managed to get their hands on the baglamas, I doubted he’d blame me for being careless. This was already bigger than anything I’d imagined.

The “music” continued, not the tangy and exotic dancing of notes that I’d heard Grandpa Plaka play on special occasions or when he was happy. These notes were an angry plucking that made my ears ache.

“I don’t think he knows how to play it,” Javis whispered.

I stifled a laugh. “Come on, let’s go see who it is. He or she may be trying to travel using the baglamas. What they’re doing won’t work, though, so we should be able to catch up to them.”

After a few more notes, Javis and I shared a knowing glance and began walking in that direction. The travel vortex wasn’t created simply by strumming the strings of the instrument. There needed to be a source of momentum, often created by jumping from a high distance. I remembered how Grandpa Plaka would scoop the baglamas through the air, like it was a giant ladle and the air was its soup. After more than a few swipes, there would be a buzzing in the air, a low sound that signaled the process was starting.

I listened closely for the buzzing sound, hearing nothing but the ongoing tang of a poorly played baglamas.

The moon provided barely enough light for us to see from within the wooded area, but once the trees were behind us, I squinted so much that I considered slipping the travel glasses back over my eyes. This moon was brighter than any I’d seen in any world, anywhere or anywhen. It glowed white and silver. Had there been warmth and golden light, I would have thought it was this world’s sun. I looked over to find Javis’s hand pressed to his forehead, casting a shadow over his eyes.

An open area of grass, rock, and dirt walking paths stretched out before us. The dark house was still in the distance, but not as far away.

I frowned. “Between the flatness of the land and the bright moon, there’s nowhere for us to hide now.”

“But there’s plenty of space to run. Keep your travel glasses ready, just in case.”

The wilder, flatter terrain smoothed further into manicured lawns with hedging and flowers, their petals closed for the night. Brick paths replaced those made of dirt. The largest path led to a gate coated in a shiny substance that reflected the moonlight as well as any mirror. Hedges flanked the gate on both sides. Through its metal bars, the dark house appeared nearer.

Javis slipped his hand through a handle at the side of the gate and slowly turned it back in on itself. “It’s open,” he said as he started swinging the gate toward us.

“Open it quietly,” I said, hoping it wasn’t protected by an alarm.

I held my breath until the gate was fully open and we were on its other side. “Let’s leave it open—in case we have to leave here quickly.”

He nodded.

Now that I’d started breathing again, I was struck by how the air smelled and tasted of smoke, like a candle had been snuffed out.

In addition to the notes from the baglamas, there was a trickle of running water. Our footsteps tapped lightly across the ground, now more fleshed out with brickwork and edged with grass and plants. The greenery here appeared to be strategically placed rather than naturally grown in the wild. In the yard’s center stood a wide, round fountain.

Curious, I approached it. Its clear water was dappled with silver light.

Movement from behind the fountain caught my eye. I squatted, hiding behind the fountain, and pulling Javis down along with me.

That’s when I heard a long, drawn out sigh.

I held my breath, my fingers digging into Javis’s arm. He looked at me wide-eyed and then down at his arm.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

We scooched ourselves around the edge of the fountain to see what was in the yard behind it.

A man sat reclined on a bench, with his legs sticking out in front of him. He wore a tunic, white with a silver sheen, which ran past his knees and seemed to tighten mid-calf. He swiped his fingers across an instrument that sat in his lap. My baglamas.

I gritted my teeth as my chest flooded with anger towards the man.

“A true work of art, isn’t it, my pet?” said the man in the tunic.

A canine with a thin coat of pale, golden fur yawned, its ears twitching each time a sour note was played. Its fur stretched taut against its middle, held up by limbs that were long and lean.

“My only regret is not asking how it works,” continued the man in the tunic. “No matter. Once those fools find they need me again, I’ll request they provide instructions as to how to travel with the Healer’s beloved device.”

The canine whimpered.

The man in the tunic chuckled. “Not to worry, Eurig, my dear girl. No one visits me here. No one knows this world exists, not even the TSTA.” He scrunched up his face. “Only a Time Keeper would be able to find it using portals.”

He looked down at the baglamas. “Or, perhaps, someone with access to unofficial objects of travel. But what business would they want with me?” The way he gazed and smiled at the instrument made me want to vomit.

“Well, that explains why he leaves the gate unlocked,” whispered Javis. “Do you really think he can translate the dog’s whimpers?”

“Shh, focus, Javis. I don’t care about that. We need to figure out how to get the baglamas away from the man so I can get it back.”

“We can’t exactly grab it from him, and he doesn’t seem the type to respond well to Oh, hey, that looks like my baglamas; could I have it back, please?

I rolled my eyes at Javis and frowned before turning my attention back to the thief. A shiver shot up my spine. Had he been in my bedroom? I hoped not.

“What a beautiful thing,” continued the man in the tunic. “To be able to travel with mobile objects instead of portals fixed in time and space. The ability to find anyone, anywhere by searching specifically for them.”

Eurig stretched her forelegs and sat back on her haunches. She whimpered, this time with her face tilted toward the sky.

“It’s getting late, yes. I, too, would like a warm drink before bed. We can study the instrument more tomorrow. I look forward to learning if there are connections between the portal’s song and the inner workings of this object of time.”

The man wriggled his body back and forth until he sat diagonally with his feet resting against the ground and his behind leaning against the edge of the bench. He held the baglamas in one arm as he used his opposite arm to hoist himself up into a standing position.

Each step toward the house was painfully slow. His canine companion showed more restraint than any dog I’d ever seen, especially the way she waited until he took a few steps before catching up to the man, instead of rushing out ahead of him.

“I think we could take him, Javis. He seems pretty slow to me.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad, like we’re taking advantage of someone with an infirmity. Unlike the recovering Lost, this guy’s injuries are purely physical.”

“Seriously, Javis? He and these men he’s been talking about stole my baglamas. This guy knows its value as a travel object. He’s the bad guy, not us.” He’s the bad guy, I repeated in my head, thankful that the thieves were vile men like these, and not Sloe. At least I had something to be relieved about.

“So, what do we do now? Try to follow him inside? Or come back at a better time?” He blinked. “Is there a better time?”

“If that dog makes more noise than a yawn or whimper, I don’t know how we’ll get in undetected.”

“Yeah, that dog is amazing. It’s like…it knows. I really think they talk to each other.”

I glared at him. “Stop worrying about the stupid dog, and help me figure out how to get my baglamas back!”

“Sure, right. Get the baglamas back,” he mumbled, his eyes still trained on the man and his dog.”

When the door to the house opened, I bent my knees, ready to spring forward and follow. If the man is so unworried about visitors that he leaves his gate unlocked, maybe he doesn’t lock his front door either.

Eurig turned and looked directly at us. From this angle, I was able to see something I hadn’t noticed before. The dog’s eyes glowed white, edged with the silver pallor of this world’s moon.

At the same time, Javis gasped and I froze in place. While the man in the tunic walked through the door, we squatted there, unflinching and unbreathing, with the dog’s gaze upon us, her back legs blocking the door from closing.

My heartbeat echoed the seconds that ticked by. Eurig saw us. Was she waiting for us, too? I’d decided that must be what she wanted—for us to follow her. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be running toward us, or at least barking like any other dog would have done.

I pleaded with her, with my eyes, willing her to understand. Don’t give us away. Please.

Eurig’s eyes flashed brighter as she let out a soft and drawn out whimper.

I squinted past the dog, worried that she’d caught the attention of the man in the tunic—that he was on his way back outside where he’d find us.

But then, from inside my head, I heard a female voice, both kind and stern.

Leave this place. Quickly.

The dog turned and walked inside the house, letting the door swing closed behind her.

Javis grabbed my hand. “We need to leave here. Now.”

“I know,” I whispered.

I slipped the travel glasses back over my eyes, and we ran—into the safety of the bright, white light.

Continue the adventure with Chapter 20, to be posted June 3. Read Darker Stars from the beginning, and learn more about its serialization here.

Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 18

Darker Stars Beta CoverSloe paced, shivering each time he passed the hole where his bedroom door used to be. His parents were in the upper rooms discussing what had happened and considered him not adult enough to be much help. So, he’d left.

He couldn’t shake the dread he’d felt when his father had wanted him to test the portal—to see where it went. Sloe had never been so grateful for his mother’s interference on his behalf. He almost didn’t care how much of a coward it made him feel.

He was more concerned for Raven. If the hooded man showed up here at the Clock Tower, does that mean he could also visit Raven’s home? Convinced the hooded man’s appearance was a warning, he knew he had to speed up the process. He had to find the baglamas and give it to the cloaked men.

It hadn’t been long since he’d left Silvie’s world of Edgar. Their timelines weren’t as different as the Clock Tower was with other worlds. He needed to go back—as soon as possible.

“If caught,” he murmured, “I’ll say I wanted to see how Javis and Silvie were doing after everything that happened during the hospital tour.” He pressed his lips together tightly. If I’m not caught, then I’ll do some exploring on my own.

With his mind made up, he exited the Clock Tower and climbed to the portal to Edgar.

A quiet calm enveloped him as he slipped through the portal. He stepped over flowers and navigated the path to the Halls’ front door. Building Number One, he thought, smiling. He was sure the baglamas would be kept somewhere in Silvie’s home. And he hoped she, her father, and Javis hadn’t left the hospital.

Sloe knocked on the door. He waited, inwardly reciting the lines intended to explain why he was there.

When no answer came, he twisted the doorknob. He caught his breath when he realized the door wasn’t locked.

His stomach churned with disappointment at himself as his feet crossed the threshold of the Halls’ home. But the hooded man’s warning and concerned for Raven compelled him forward.

He sucked in a breath while attempting to absorb what he found inside the house. The front room was larger than the Clock Tower’s upper rooms put together. There was a sculpture, with a plaque, like dedications he’d seen at museums on other worlds. He considered taking a closer look before giving himself a sharp reminder that he had little time.

Instead of one staircase leading to the next floor, there were two. One led to the left, and the other to the right. He gritted his teeth. This will take forever.

Muttering excuses to himself, he searched the first floor. After ruling out the kitchen, and an adjacent dining room, he found himself standing in a library with a fireplace. The shelves held books and globes. A grand piano sat wedged against a window that was barely visible behind layers of curtains.

Sloe flipped through pages of sheet music, all written for the piano. Glancing around the room, he tried to picture Silvie sitting before the fireplace, strumming the baglamas. He remembered how closely she’d held the instrument to herself at the funeral.

“She wouldn’t play it here,” he whispered aloud. If I had an instrument like that, I’d hang out in my bedroom all day and practice. His eyes widened.

He held his breath as he reentered the front room. His heartbeat pulsed, reminding him of the passing time. One of the Halls could show up at any moment. After snapping his head back and forth between the two staircases, he ascended the stairs to the left.

Sloe swabbed beads of perspiration from his forehead. He kept his steps light as he wandered through the hallway, testing doorknobs as he went.

The first unlocked door creaked open. He flipped a switch along the wall and the room brightened. Squinting, he focused on a stack of shirts, a comb, and a bottle of cologne on top of a dresser. The shirts were dark blue, the same color as Javis’s uniform. I doubt they’d keep the baglamas in here, thought Sloe. He gave the rest of the room little thought before concluding it was Javis’s bedroom and turning off the light switch. The next door opened into a closet with shelves filled with towels and soaps. Next was a bathroom, then a second closet.

Sloe opened a door that led to another bedroom. He flipped a light switch and exhaled. A smile lit his face as he focused on an object that made him lose interest in everything else. On top of a bed, resting against a pillow was a stringed instrument. The baglamas.

He removed his jacket and stuffed the instrument inside, tucking the ends and tying the sleeves into a handle. Despite all the excuses he’d invented to explain his presence there, he didn’t know how to explain why he’d taken the baglamas and hoped no one would ask what was wrapped inside his jacket.

With his heart in his throat, Sloe closed the door to Silvie’s bedroom; he tiptoed down the stairs and out of the house. Outside, the flowers’ scent had faded. He sighed, grateful for a clear path between the house and the exit portal. As quickly as his feet could carry him without crushing petals and leaves, he marched to the exit portal.

He was within three feet of his goal when the ground began to tremble. He sharply released a breath. Someone was coming, or was already there, but not from the hospital or from the house. Another traveler would reach him before he reached the portal with enough time to open it and travel through.

With clenched teeth, Sloe grounded, burying the wrapped baglamas and himself in the flowers.

When he looked up, he saw another figure crouched along the ground, not far from him—someone wearing dark glasses.

“Sorry!” a voice called out a female voice.

Sloe brought himself to his feet at the same time she did, and pressed a hand to his lips.

Silvie had removed the sunglasses from her eyes and was walking toward him, smiling.

He cleared his throat and waved. His foot caught the bundle containing the baglamas, which he attempted to shift to a space further behind him.

Silvie glanced at the space behind him. “Leaving already?”

Sloe felt the heat creeping up his neck and face. “I, um—I wanted to check in on how you and Javis were doing, but you weren’t here,” he lied. “So I figured I’d go home and come back at a later time.”

“You didn’t go in the hospital? It’s right behind you.”

“No, not without you. I knocked at the front door to your house, but nobody answered so I figured I’d try later. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

Silvie smiled brightly. “Not at all! Javis is staying at the hospital overnight. He probably doesn’t need to stay there at all, but Father insists as a precaution.”

“So he’s fine, then?”

She scrunched her nose. “I hope so.”

“Stressful day,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

“Yes.” Silvie blinked, then smiled again. “Well, since you’re here, why don’t you come inside for a snack?”

Sloe winced, searching for an answer.

“I distinctly remember you saying that you came here to check in on me, too, not just Javis.”

“Oh, yeah.” His eyes flickered to the baglamas hidden in the flowers. When Silvie’s smile began to fade, he quickly added, “I can’t stay long, and I’m really not hungry.”

“A quick tour, then? I promise I won’t keep you long. I feel bad about how the earlier tour went, and that you came out here twice today for nothing.”

“Sure, thanks,” he said, caught by his own excuses.

Silvie all but skipped back to the house. “I just came back from traveling, too,” she said, indicating the travel glasses. Sloe wanted to ask why she didn’t use the baglamas, then mentally kicked himself in the head. This was not the time to bring up the instrument he’d nearly gotten away with stealing before her arrival.

He cringed as Silvie slipped a key into the lock, then frowned.

“That’s funny,” she said. “The door’s already opened.”

Sloe attempted to mimic her confusion.

“I was in such a hurry to travel, I must have forgotten to lock the door.” She added in a lower voice, “Please don’t say anything about this to Father. He would not be pleased.”

“Of course.”

Sloe tried to keep himself from suffocating with guilt as he reentered the Halls’ home; but more than that he worried about whether the baglamas would still be near the exit portal to retrieve on his way home. Worse yet, it was wrapped in his jacket—a glaring clue as to who had taken it.

Silvie led Sloe through the entryway and library he’d already seen. He wiped his palms across his dark pants and pretended to admire the room with the fireplace all over again. After he politely declined food a second time, he followed her upstairs.

“Father’s room is farther down the hallway, where the hall dead ends,” she said. “And here is my room.”

Sloe swallowed a lump in his throat. What if she sees the gaping hole on her bed where the baglamas used to be? He attempted to show appreciation, meanwhile trying to find something to talk about—to draw her attention to other things in the room. His gaze fell on the photograph propped on her nightstand.

“Is that your mother?” he said. He instantly regretted it, knowing her mother was no longer living. But as bad as he felt, he hoped it would distract Silvie from seeing what was missing on her bed.

“Yes. That’s who I was visiting before I found you.”

Sloe’s eyes widened.

“Father recently gifted me his pair of travel glasses, and I used them to travel to the past to visit my mother.”

“You traveled to a past version of her? A silhouette?”

Silvie nodded.

He tried not to cringe as she began describing how she’d found her mother’s silhouette in the library. Silvie blinked back tears. “Even though I was away, I really wasn’t that far from here at all…”

That’s where she was while I wandered through her house and stole the baglamas? What am I doing to this family? Silvie’s father rescued me from Aboreal when I first traveled alone. But I’m in too deep. I have to keep my promise to the cloaked men. I’ll need to find some way to make it up to Silvie and the Halls later.

“I, um, Silvie. I really should go.”

“I’m sorry for being depressing.”

He shrugged. “Really, it’s getting late, and my parents didn’t know I left to come back here and—”

“I understand. We can meet up again later.”

The sincerity in her voice cut him like a knife.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, angry with himself that he was lying again, knowing he wouldn’t be able to face her again after today.

Silvie moved to walk him outside.

“No, it’s all right,” he said. “You’ve had a rough day. I can find my way out.” He ignored the crinkling of her nose, unable to breathe again until she stopped at the Halls’ front door and locked it behind him.

When his foot found the baglamas wrapped in his jacket, hidden beneath the flowers, Sloe almost sighed in relief. He slipped his arm through the handle of the bundle and propped it over his shoulder. Then he brought the exit portal to life with his hands and mind.

Moments later, he clung to the Clock Tower. His knee hit hard against a cogwheel, tearing a gash in his pants, when he reached for the sundial portal to make it glow. The air popped and sizzled with purple and blue. He surged forward and pushed through before the impact of his arrival hit and anyone noticed the trembling from the inside of the tower.

The tang of smoke from a campfire reached his nostrils at the same time a high-pitched gurgling reached his ears. He squinted, adjusting to the lack of light.

The hooded man sat laughing. He and his companion were bent over a fire.

“I could taste their terror,” said the hooded man. “I expect the baglamas will arrive soon.”

Sloe sucked in a breath, his veins surging with anger. They were talking about his family, laughing at his fear. He unwrapped the baglamas and pulled on his jacket.

He stalked toward the men, intending each crunch from the ground below him so that their heads turned toward him.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the baglamas forward. “Take it.”

The hooded man gargled laughter as his scarred hands closed around the instrument. He slid a thumb across its strings. “Well done.”

“Now promise you’ll leave us alone.”

“That will require the appropriate confirmation,” said the man who wore no hood.

“What are you talking about?”

“These orders come from powers higher than ours. We will first need to guarantee that this is exactly what we asked for, and that you haven’t given us an imitation, something other than the Healer’s baglamas.”

Sloe’s blood turned to ice in his veins. For the first time he questioned the authenticity of the instrument. Had Silvie had a copy made, just in case someone tried to take the real travel object? His hands shook involuntarily.

“How soon will you know?” he said.

“Soon enough,” said the hooded man. “And if we find out it’s a counterfeit, you and your family can expect another visit from me. Only, this time, I might not be as gracious a guest.”

Sloe clenched and unclenched his hands. “But you’ll let Raven alone.”

“We won’t promise that.”

Continue the adventure with Chapter 19. >>>

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Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 17 Memories

Darker Stars Beta CoverWhen the last of Sloe’s form vanished through the exit portal, I squeezed my arms across my ribs, feeling anxious and, strangely, alone.

Sighing, I peered up at the sky. The brightness of the day stars had faded enough for the light of the night stars to begin to shine through. Starlight mixed with the brown and gold shadows of midday.

I turned around and stepped toward the hospital’s rear entrance, then made my way to the area where we kept short-term residents. I expected that’s where Javis was being monitored before going home.

I poked my head through a couple doorways before finding him, then immediately wished I’d brought food with me. He looked up at me, pale and slightly on edge.

“How are you doing?” I said.

One foot kicked at a blanket bunched at the bottom of his bed. I grinned. He was still wearing his work uniform pants, but the orderlies had managed to remove his shoes and cover his top half with a hospital gown.

“I’d be better if Father would let me go home,” he said. “I have to wait until he approves.”

“Makes sense.” Javis and I weren’t legal adults yet, so Father got to make the final decision on such things.

I wasn’t sure what else to say. There was an awkwardness between us that had never been there before. I wondered if he knew how involved I’d been in his healing—that I’d sensed the weakness, the darkness, inside of him. I wasn’t sure how to bring that up without sounding invasive or creepy.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” I said, meaning every word of it. “I don’t understand how this happened. How did you fall over in the ladies’ room?”

He dipped his head and rubbed his palm across his forehead and eyes. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you remember a sudden pain, or tripping over something?”

“No. Everything disappeared into whiteness.” He coughed. “Like my body was empty and weak.”

My shoulders tensed. Was that the same weakness I’d felt while healing him, or something else? I wanted Javis to say more, to see if we were talking about the same thing, if the two were connected. I opened my lips to speak, then hesitated.

“Silvie.”

I twisted my head to the door, to who’d spoken my name. I hadn’t heard anyone approach.

“Father,” I said.

He looked at me as if he intended for me to say something more. I had no idea what. I swallowed.

“Yes?”

He glanced at Javis, then back to me, and frowned. “While you were showing Sloe out, I asked someone to cover your rounds.”

“Oh,” I said, my heart sinking. The day was half over, and with all the excitement and drama, I hadn’t finished my early shift. I hadn’t started it, either, seeing as I’d been showing Sloe around the hospital.

I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve done enough healing for one day. Thank you for using your talent to help your brother.”

I raised my eyes to his, this time recognizing Father showed no signs of being upset, at least not with me. His face was drawn in a way that suggested he was tired, and sad.

Stepping closer, he reached inside his jacket pocket and placed something in Javis’s hands, then mine. My jaw dropped as I stared at a pair of dark glasses.

“This is your pair,” I whispered.

“Yes, and now Javis has Calla’s. I recommend that you not use them to travel, given the effects they have on one’s eyes. But they’re yours now, and it’s up to you as far as what to do with them.”

I frowned. At one time, Father’s eyes were as green as mine, and Mother’s were as dark as Javis’s.

“If we’re not supposed to use the travel glasses to travel, then why do you want us to have them?” Father was offering us a precious gift, wrapped with memories of his life with Mother.

“I won’t be with you forever,” he said. “I want our memories to be your memories. You will be able to visit past versions of us, as needed.”

“How are you going to travel without these?”

“Perhaps it’s time I obtained a commissioned TSTA vehicle.”

Javis and I wrinkled our noses at each other. He reached out in an attempt to return his pair to Father.

“I don’t understand,” said Javis. “All we ever heard growing up is how much you hate the TSTA and its rules. Why give up now?”

“In a matter of years, I’ve lost my mother, my wife, and my healer. I’ve made peace with the fact that no matter what I do, the worlds will move on without me.”

A lump formed in my throat. “But you still have us.”

Father’s lips rose at their corners. “I can’t keep you here forever, Silvie. I saw you with Sloe and how you work with the recovering Lost. You’re growing up. You’ve inherited Plaka’s baglamas. The worlds are yours to explore now.”

“Are you hinting that it’s time for Silvie to leave Edgar?” Javis’s face paled. I wasn’t as concerned with that being the issue as what Father saw when he saw me with Sloe? I knew Father wanted us to stay as long as possible. But what did he mean about Sloe? Was it that obvious?

“No, you can come and go as you please. Both of you.”

I squirmed at Javis’s defeated look. We loved Edgar, the world—and life—Father had built for Mother. We didn’t want to leave. Or, was it that Father wanted to be alone?

I turned the pair of travel glasses in my hands. It had dark frames and equally dark lenses. I’d seen Father wear them so many times, they looked like an ordinary accessory. Memories. I could search Father’s memories—those he’d burned inside the glasses.

I could see pictures of Mother…and hear her voice. Something I’d wanted to hear for so long. Tears filled my eyes. It was an amazing gift. But that didn’t make me feel any less worried about Father, or Javis.

***

Loneliness lingered as I left the hospital. Father decided to keep Javis there overnight, just in case. I expected he would stay with him until the early hours of the morning. Javis was his favorite, and I was okay with that.

I patted the pair of sunglasses in my pocket. I had Mother with me.

As soon as I grabbed a snack, I headed up to my bedroom. Even though I usually accompanied Mother when we’d traveled with the travel glasses, Father had explained to me how to search, and had let me practice with his pair several times.

There were different types of searches. A traveler could search to travel somewhere by focusing on a person, place, time, or some combination of the three. This, I could already do with Grandpa Plaka’s baglamas.

The travel glasses offered something more. They could be used to communicate. Two people wearing the travel glasses at the same time could see and speak to each other.

But that wasn’t the best part.

Father had burned his memories of Mother inside the glasses. Mother had recorded her memories inside the pair that was now Javis’s pair. At some point, I learned Father had copied memories, a form of data, from one pair to another. Mother had taken his original pair, and he’d had a backup pair. But parts were missing. I had no idea how often they synced the recordings inside the glasses, or whether Father had synced the pairs before giving them to us.

Father had lived longer than Mother, so it was possible his pair had later recordings of me and Javis. It didn’t matter to me whether I had Father’s pair or Mother’s pair. I was sure there were more than enough memories of Mother burned into both.

Retrieving the recordings—the memories—burned inside the glasses required a special bond between the person who was searching for the memories, and the person who’d recorded them. Obviously, this worked if the same person recorded and searched. But when the recorder and searcher were two different people, the bond had to be strong.

I relied on my bond with my Father, who’d recorded memories of Mother, as I searched for pictures of her inside the travel glasses.

Still shots of her face appeared, followed by moving pictures with sound. My heart leapt at the sound of her voice.

Mother smiled or scowled at the recorder, from various points of her life. The scowling ones made me laugh. There must have been times that Father frustrated her as much as he frustrated me. Her eyes changed color from a dark, rich brown to a pale shade of gray. The travel glasses had affected her eyes, just like Father said.

It felt like scanning through a digital photo album that showed only pictures and movies I wanted to see. The brighter, more vivid, recordings, I knew, were taken of persons who were real and living at the time they were recorded. Recordings of past versions, from having traveled to their past, were washed out; they seemed illusory because they were recordings of silhouettes.

This was nice for a while, but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to go back in time to visit Mother, the same way she used to travel to the past to ask questions of her mentor, Edgar Hall.

The women at the hospital were friends, but they were not family. I had to speak to a woman, someone I knew well. The men didn’t get me. Father, Javis, probably even Sloe. I couldn’t talk to them the way I needed to. It was too difficult, and awkward.

More than anything, I wanted Mother to be in front of me, hearing my words and giving me words of her own, words not intended for whomever was recording, but words and a message meant for me.

I ran downstairs and outside the house to where I stood at the beginning of the path that led to the hospital. I slipped the travel glasses on my face and searched for a memory, one of my mother—the way I remembered her best from when I was younger. The way I’ll always picture her. With dark curly hair streaked with white, and eyes as gray as Earth’s sky before a storm’s first raindrops. The way she smiled at me and at Father.

She was a young woman when she gave birth to me. But after Javis was born, Mother aged rapidly. Or maybe I was just more aware of it.

And then, suddenly, she was gone.

I pressed my lips together to still their trembling and continued to focus on this version of Mother. I pictured her here in Edgar, relaxing in front of the fireplace after a day of work at the hospital.

My feet pounded against the ground to gain speed for the transport. My lips pursed in concentration. The path, the flowers, the house, the hospital—all of it disappeared, bleached out by a white, blinding light.

The white light faded, replaced by a yellow-orange glow and a warmth that comforted me and made me suddenly sleepy.

Flames from a fireplace flickered before me. I was in the family room, in our home in Edgar. In the past.

A woman sat in my favorite reading chair, holding a mug. Her large gray eyes were opened wide, her lips caught mid-sip.

My breath hitched as a lump formed in my throat, bringing along with it tears that stung my eyes.

The woman, Mother, rose from her chair. She took another look at the mug before her eyes darted to the fire.

“Quickly,” she said. “To the ground.”

My heart pounded, guiltily, for having landed somewhere where grounding would bring a danger to my family and home.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I lowered myself into a grounding stance. I should have searched for her outside, but I couldn’t get the homey image of Mother out of my mind during travel. This is where and when I wanted to be.

Mother emptied the contents of the mug into the fire before pulling a screen across the fireplace. She held the mug to her chest, protecting it as she pressed an arm and knee to the ground.

The ground quaked, as if angry that I’d created a tear to enter this time and place. Like it knew I’d made a poor choice. I cringed, feeling as if I deserved every bit of it.

Out of the side of my vision, I stole a glance at the fireplace. The flames spewed sparks that didn’t quite reach the screen Mother had closed, but the wood that fueled the fire bounced, creating an ominous cloud of smoke.

I held my palm to my nose and mouth to fend off the stench and the urge to cough.

When the rumblings subsided, Mother opened windows. She frowned in the direction of the couch, and the blankets and pillows there I expected would smell like smoke for a long time afterwards.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

At least nothing had caught fire as a result of my carelessness.

Mother turned to face me. Her gazed followed the travel glasses as I removed them from my eyes and propped them on the top of my head. Afterwards, she looked me up and down suspiciously, as if she knew me from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it.

My fingers shook as I waited for her to recognize me, to remember. Even though she’d never seen me at my present age, part of me expected her to know me anyway. That the bond between mother and daughter would have meant more than logic.

If anything, given her role as a healer, and her work at the hospital, I thought she might ask if I needed help. That she would reach out and see if I was well.

But her body language held the opposite. I hadn’t expected her to be guarded.

“Are you from the future or the past?” she said, finally. Hearing her voice again should have warmed me, but the tone was so full of worry. Her eyebrows twisted in a puzzled expression as she took a step backward.

“The future,” I admitted.

She shuddered. “Then I’m a silhouette?”

I blinked. “Yes.”

Mother crossed her arms. “I would have guessed you to be a younger version of my mother-in-law, Sable Hall. You have her eyes, her hair… But if you’re from the future—” Her eyes flickered to the pair of travel glasses on my head.

Her frown deepened. “Who are you?”

“You don’t know me?”

Mother opened her mouth and shut it again. She did that twice more before taking a step forward.

My lips twisted in an involuntary pout.

Her eyes widened slightly before they shot up to a place above my eyes, in the spaces where my eyebrows should be, and that I’d drawn in with paint.

Mother reached out a hand. “May I?”

I nodded, expecting her to rest her hand on my shoulder, the way she would to sense a person’s wellness or calm the recovering Lost when they were upset. But, instead, she pressed a thumb to my left brow bone.

I sucked in a breath when she smeared the face paint upward.

“No!” My hand reflexively moved to cover the ruined brow. I couldn’t see the result, but I imagined part of it was missing.

Mother studied the paint print on her thumb. She looked up, her real eyebrows furrowed.

“Silvie?”

Warmth and relief swelled in my chest. I smiled. “Mother.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said, pulling me to her and squeezing me to her chest. “I know you as the small child I just put to bed,” she laughed. “And, now, here you are, all grown up.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She let go of me and swiped a hand across her face. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you like this.”

Her expression went somber once again. “And I’ll never remember it. Are you visiting me from the future to warn me of something? Because, I won’t remember without you creating a Daily Reminder that will change the past.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s nothing like that. Father drilled the not changing the past rule into me and Javis. I don’t think I could—”

“Javis?” Her hand pressed lightly to her lower stomach. She didn’t look pregnant, at least it wasn’t showing.

“My brother,” I said, unable to pull my eyes from where she rested her hand.

Tears filled her eyes. “Are you both well?”

I nodded, but even I wasn’t convinced by my response.

“Silvie, what’s wrong? Do you need help?”

“Not in the way you think. I’m healthy.” My lower lip trembled. “It’s just tough sometimes without another female to talk to, and I needed to see you.”

This version of Mother didn’t know Javis yet, and I wasn’t sure how to bring up the weakness I’d felt in him. I would need to visit a later version of her, and to learn whether she’d ever encountered such a thing, in Javis or in someone else, with her own healing talent.

She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “I left you too soon, I must have. I’m so sorry. But I see that you have the travel glasses now,” she said, gesturing. “Is Valcas…?”

“Dead? No, no. He recently gifted his pair of travel glasses to me.”

Her lips pulled into a wide grin. “So now you can visit me any time you like.”

I smiled. Her words of welcome were good to hear, even though I knew I’d have to reintroduce myself each time. At least now I knew what her reaction might be.

Continue the adventure with Chapter 18. >>>

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Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 16

Darker Stars Beta CoverSloe returned to the Clock Tower, his thoughts filled with Silvie, her family, and what he’d seen of her healing talent. She’d helped her brother Javis and the girl Madeline without hesitation, almost without fear. The hint of fear she had shown, he assumed, was due to seeing her family member unwell.

He shivered as he opened the door to the tower, wishing he could take back his promise to the cloaked men. He didn’t want to betray Silvie anymore than he wanted to endanger Raven.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he found his parents talking, their shoulders hunched over plates of food. Ivory turned and squinted.

“You look serious tonight. What’s on your mind, kid?”

Sloe sat near his mother and exhaled. “I’m thinking about travel talents, mostly.”

Nick snorted. Ivory’s arm jerked as if trying to elbow him in the ribs, but he was too far away.

Ignoring his father’s jest, Sloe replied in a slow, measured tone. “Even though we can do amazing things, I’m beginning to understand how dangerous our talents are—how they lead to difficult situations as much as they are necessary to help with difficult situations.”

Ivory and Nick exchanged a glance.

“Is this your way of leading to an apology? Or are you trying to tell us you’re in trouble you cannot handle alone?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Dad.” He thought about how Nick had been in hiding since before Sloe was born. “But there must have been times you felt lost and helpless about something you didn’t want all the worlds to know.”

“What are you getting at, son?”

Sloe bristled. “Take for instance when we first discovered I was a Time Keeper and ended up in Aboreal. You weren’t who brought me home. Another man did.”

Nick’s eyes softened. “You’d suddenly slipped from my hands. You’d fallen on top of an Aborealian hourglass and disappeared.” He looked away, his mind somewhere else. “Your mother and I were stunned.”

“I couldn’t believe it,” said Ivory. “One moment you were there and then poof gone! I’ve never been so scared in my life, and trust me, kid, I’ve seen some things.”

Nick sipped at his tea before sitting further back into his chair. “I knew I couldn’t follow you through the portal to Aboreal. The society had rejected me and I was still in hiding. I’d grown complacent now that I was confident the TSTA would never find me here—that they were locked out and unable to enter without my permission.”

He sighed. “He could still return through Aboreal’s exit portal, back here to the Clock Tower, is what I told your mother, not realizing how stupid I sounded in that moment.”

Sloe’s attention switched to Ivory’s frowning face.

“I told your father he was crazy if he thought you were going to wander over to the exit portal,” she said. “You were so small, and I had no idea how far away the exit portal would be from where you entered. It’s not like I’d ever seen or sensed it.”

Nick pointed his chin toward his wife and smiled. “But thank goodness for old friends.”

“I immediately thought of Calla and Valcas,” said Ivory. “Your father scrambled along the tower, reading faster than I’d ever seen him, trying to find the world of Edgar that Valcas built. Timepieces glowed left and right.”

“Once I’d arrived in Edgar and found Valcas, he agreed to retrieve you for us—using his travel glasses. He knew Aboreal well, so I had no worries there. More than anything, we were concerned for your safety and didn’t know what you would think or do once you realized you were in a new world, alone.”

“I was fine,” said Sloe, remembering. “I met a boy there. We talked until a man arrived—a man in dark clothing who wore sunglasses.”

The Clock Tower shook softly on the inside as if struck by a heavy wind. Timepieces clanged and chimed.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Someone’s here.”

“But who?” muttered Sloe as the family scrambled downstairs.

“Maybe it’s Valcas,” Ivory offered. Her words were light and carefree, but her forehead was wrinkled in waves. “It could be his ears were burning from us talking about him. Or Silvie? Her grandfather Plaka was able to get here using his baglamas.”

Sloe cringed at his mother’s mentioning of the instrument.

They opened the door.

A cloaked man was crouched outside, grounding. He turned around. A hood covered his eyes and nose, leaving only his lips exposed.

Sloe sucked in a short breath, his limbs suddenly rigid and difficult to move as he and Ivory followed Nick outside.

“How did you get here, friend?”

The hooded man grinned in the direction of the greeting, where Nick stood with his thin arms overlapped in front of his chest.

“You tell me, friend,” he laughed, his voice warbling between high and low-pitched tones.

“This is our home,” said Nick, offering nothing further, no details about the Clock Tower or what it was. “Which means we are entitled to know why you are here,” he added, this time subtly leaving off the word friend.

“I’m exploring,” said the man. “Finding my way around the worlds. Keeping track of my debts and debtors.” He laughed again, a sickening shriek of hiccuping tones.

Ivory caught up to Nick and stood at his side. “What’s going on?” she said under her breath. “I’ve never seen anything like this… At least not with a stranger.”

“Don’t worry love,” he responded. His tone was soft but prickly. “Please, go upstairs, and take Sloe with you.”

She nodded and attempted to catch Sloe’s arm on her way to the door. He was frozen so solid, he didn’t budge, causing Ivory to bounce backward. “Come on, kid. Let your father deal with this.”

Slowly, painfully, Sloe shook his head.

Ivory screwed up her face and huffed before turning sharply about-face. “Then, I’m not leaving either,” she whispered.

Nick stepped toward the man. “Are you lost?”

The hooded man sucked in a breath and fell to the ground, hard on his knees. He writhed and moaned, until the sounds tapered off into a series of gagging sounds. His hands squeezed at his face before wrapping around his throat. “No. Not. Lost,” he sputtered.

Nick approached the man, his hand raised as if intending to free him of his hood. “Are you hurt, friend?” he said, his glance filled with caution.

The hooded man laughed again. “Only temporarily,” he said, sucking in an extended, rattling breath. “Only…temporarily.”

Nick’s stuck out his chin and frowned. He offered his hand to help the man up, which the man accepted. “Unless you can explain why I should let you stay, I think it best you leave now. Do you need me to help you exit this world? To take you home?”

Sloe wiped his sleeves across his brow, mopping a trail of sweat beads. His palm shook as he lowered his hand. If he asks to return through the sundial, it’s over for me. Dad might find out where I was the night Raven got attacked. Nausea overwhelmed his stomach, increasing the clamminess of his hands and forehead.

“No,” said the hooded man. He looked up at the Clock Tower, curiosity barely visible beneath his hood and gurgles of pain. “I’ve stayed too long.”

He let go of Nick’s hand and reached out with both of his own.

Sloe cringed as one of his hands reached up toward the Clock Tower. No. No, no, no. Please don’t go up there. He exhaled as the man dropped his hands and walked around the west side of the tower, along its base.

Nick, Ivory, and Sloe followed him to the rear of the tower, the opposite side of where the door was that led to the tower’s interior.

Sloe and Nick drew identical intakes of breath.

“What is it?” whispered Ivory, squinting.

“There’s a portal here,” said Nick. His fingers were curled forward, reaching toward something. “A new one. Not a timepiece like those on the tower, but one like those Sloe and I use to return to the tower from other worlds.”

“You can see it, too?” Ivory said, catching a glimpse of Sloe’s scowl.

“Not see. I can feel it. How is this possible?” But then he remembered the hooded man’s words, from the night of the attack: We see the portals, not because we feel them, like you. We see them because we build them.

As much as he wanted to call out to the hooded man, to ask if this was one of the portals he built, he knew he couldn’t reveal having met the man previously. There’d be too many questions asked, questions he didn’t want to answer. His insides shook. What if that portal takes the man back to the river, and what if Dad decides to follow the man there?

He watched as the hooded man circled the new portal, trailing his fingers along its edges. The man’s lips and jaw were clenched tightly. Sloe expected that it would work like any other exit portal—that the hooded man would walk through and return home. But instead of walking forward, the hooded man turned his back on the portal. Then walked through it, in reverse.

“What was that?” Ivory sputtered, her words cutting through inhales and gasps. “Did he just walk backwards into mid-air and disappear?”

“It would appear so, love.” Nick glanced down at Sloe who stood there slack jawed and still shaking. “It would appear so.”

“Take a look at it, Nick,” Ivory said, her voice growing higher. “I would, but as you both know I can’t see the portal, or feel it, or whatever it is you Time Keepers do. Read it, Nick. Tell me where it goes! And…and find some way to lock it so he doesn’t come through there again.”

Nick took her hand in his and pressed it lightly. “I was about to do that, love.”

He cast a questioning glance toward Sloe’s still, barely breathing form before approaching the portal and reaching toward it with both hands. “Interesting,” he murmured, looking back and forth between it and the Clock Tower.

“I feel nothing, but here, our home, the Clock Tower.”

“Can you go through it anyway? Forwards, backwards, something?”

Nick trailed his fingers along the portal’s edges, letting the thin branches of electric charge flicker and flow over his hands. “I’ve never tried going through a portal backwards,” he said. “Perhaps I should try your other suggestion, first.”

He pressed his hands forward until everything up to his elbows disappeared. The portal crackled and popped and buzzed, causing loose strands of his white hair to stand on end. After a deep breath, he pushed, and then was gone.

Ivory and Sloe looked at each other.

“No,” said Ivory as Sloe reached out to touch the portal’s edges.

“He’s right,” said Sloe. “Reading it is weird. I don’t feel or hear anything other than…here.”

The ground trembled and quaked, resulting in the Clock Tower’s familiar jingling and clanging of timepieces.

The skin of Ivory’s jaws slackened. Shadows cast across her face made her wrinkles look deeper and more pronounced. “Now what?” she said, looking around.

She and Sloe lowered themselves to the ground until the rumbling subsided.

Something similar to a heavy sack of flower smacked against the ground, from the other side of the Clock Tower.

Ivory and Sloe scrambled to their feet to explore the other side.

“Nick!” Ivory shrieked. “Are you okay? Say something.”

He lay on the ground; his hair and the edges of his clothing were blackened, scorched. More of his hair stuck out from his head, as if caught in the midst of an electric shock.

“That was new,” he said. Coughing, he sat up.

Ivory lay her hand against his cheek. “Were did you go?”

“Nowhere. I stepped through the portal, and it brought me back here.”

Ivory scowled. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know, love. I’m still working that out.” He rose from the ground.

Sloe followed Nick around the other side of the Clock Tower. “What are you doing, Dad?”

“This time, I’m going to try what that odd fellow did—enter the portal backwards.”

Ivory grabbed his arm. “Are you sure about this?”

He nodded and held up a hand.

Sloe’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. He wanted to scream out, to tell his father not to attempt to go through the portal. But to do so would reveal that he was worried about more than Nick’s health. He’d reveal his connection with the hooded man and possibly the world where he and Raven had been attacked. He clenched his hands, his nails digging into his palms as he watched, helplessly.

Mimicking the hooded man’s method, Nick stood at the rear of the portal and turned his back on it. And stepped backwards. His feet slid through the air, and the portal, as if nothing were there.

Sloe’s hands relaxed, his limbs loosened, and he began to breathe again. It didn’t work.

Nick turned to his wife and son, frowning. He rubbed his chin and stepped around the space in front of him.

He attempted to access the portal, backwards, once more. He stepped through and landed on the gray-brown soil that surrounded the Clock Tower.

Nick gritted his teeth, and pressed his hands forward, facing the rear of the portal head-on. Instead of the familiar crackling and popping sounds there was silence. “I can’t read it,” he said, finally. “But, maybe…”

After stepping through, forward instead of backward this time, and with no change in the result, he exhaled. “I hate to ask this, son, but—”

“Absolutely not,” croaked Ivory. “You’re not sending Sloe through that…thing. Who knows where it leads? I’m freaking out enough as it is wondering what will happen if you port through. And how you would make it back to us. You can’t possibly think having our only son try this is a good idea.”

Nick sniffed. He paced back and forth. “Perhaps not. But there is something I can do.”

He changed positions again until he stood at the front of the portal—the side that sent him back to the Clock Tower. He pressed his hand to it and closed his fingers, making a fist. A crackling sheet of current from the outer edges of the portal peeled back and then folded in on itself with a sharp sucking sound.

Ivory brought her hands to her ears. “What was that awful sound?”

“I’ve locked the portal.”

“But what about the other side, Nick?”

He threw up his hands. “I cannot read the other side, but I’m not as concerned with it if it’s an exit as opposed to the entrance I’ve locked. All this time, I’ve been using separate doors. What is this new form of portal? This new talent? And where did it come from?”

“I don’t know,” Ivory admitted. “But I don’t like it.”

“Me either, love. And I’m not sure if it would be more comforting to know whether the TSTA regulated it, or not.”

Continue the adventure with Chapter 17. >>>

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Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 15 Calling

Darker Stars Beta CoverOnce we were in the hallway, Javis snapped the edge of his rubber glove and offered Sloe and me a sad smirk. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Sloe waved a hand. “Have fun.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Javis. “Fun.”

I shook my head. “He likes his work more than he lets on,” I said, keeping my voice low. “He’s rather popular here.”

“Popular?” The scrunching of his face made me laugh.

“The female residents love him. Some more than others.”

I blanched at narrowed eyes.

“He keeps it professional, though,” I said, raising my palms. “And his presence here seems to make people happy.”

Sloe didn’t say anything. He stared across the hallway, his brow furrowed and eyes alert, as if he were searching for something.

“So, you’re here now. What would you like to see?”

His lower lip puckered, and he passed a hand through his dark hair.

“Whatever you’re willing to show me, I guess.” He said this with what seemed like a forced calm. Was he nervous, too?

I didn’t think it appropriate to take Sloe into the residents’ rooms, to have him shadow me on my rounds. But the kitchens weren’t exactly interesting. Neither was the gym.

“Let’s walk around the perimeter of the building and poke our heads into some of the common areas,” I said. “That shouldn’t take long, and if we get bored, I can show you the house, where Father, Javis, and I live.”

He smiled.

Taking that as my cue to begin what would likely be the most boring, and awkward, tour in the worlds, I stepped forward and gestured for him to follow. He walked as if stepping too loudly would wake up the recovering Lost.

“We don’t have to be so quiet,” I said. “The days here tend to be calm and uneventful. Twice a day, I go from room to room to check in on the residents. And then—”

As if catching me in a lie, someone wailed a high-pitched scream.

Sloe looked at me, worried and visibly puzzled.

“This is unusual,” I breathed.

I ran forward, following the screaming, and stopped when I reached a bathroom situated in the hallway. I turned to Sloe who’d caught up with me and asked him to wait outside. It was a ladies’ room.

My heart thudded against the insides of my chest as I pushed the door open.

Past the stalls, a young woman alternated between sobbing and screaming. Her back was turned away from me, and her shoulders shook the braid that trailed across her back.

As I approached, I reached out with my palm.

“You’re safe, Carmen” I whispered. My fingers curled around her shoulder. “Catch your breath, and tell me what’s happened.”

She turned and looked at me over her shoulder, with watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “No, no, it’s not me.”

“If it’s not you, then who is it?”

She wiped a trail of tears and pointed to a stall.

The stall door was wedged open. A bundle of ropes fanned across the floor. It looked like the bottom of a mop. My heartbeat rose into my throat as I pushed the door further.

Next to the mop’s pole was a shoe. I had trouble swallowing a scream of my own. Draped over the toilet was the body of my brother.

“Javis! What happened?”

He didn’t respond, but Carmen murmured at my shoulder. “I was in one of the other stalls when he came in to clean the bathroom. He mustn’t have known I was here.” Her eyes darted to the mop. “I heard something fall.”

I tried to lift Javis, then thought better of it. There was no way Carmen and I could carry him out of here.

I stepped into the hallway. Sloe stood, hunched over with his hands in his pockets. He stared at me wide-eyed. “Silvie, what happened?”

“It’s Javis. He fell over in one of the stalls.”

His cheeks paled and slackened. “Can I help?”

I nodded, hating the lump in my throat that kept me from replying with words. It was then that I noticed Javis’s cleaning bin parked against the wall. I’d completely missed it on my way to find out the source of the screaming.

When we reached the stall, Sloe propped Javis up over his shoulder and backed out of the stall. He had more strength than I gave his thin and gangly body credit for.

“Wrap your arm around his side,” he said.

As I did, I heard the whisper of Javis’s breathing, for which I gave a silent thanks.

“Help me get him out to the hallway.”

Gently, we helped Javis onto the floor. He fluttered his eyelids. Through them, I could see recognition in his eyes before he closed them again.

“It’s okay, Javis,” I said, wrapping my hands around his shoulders. “Breathe.”

Sloe stood and took a step backward, then leaned against the wall. I could feel his lavender eyes staring at me. I fought the urge to look up and measure his reaction, and focused on Javis, instead.

I reached out with my healing talent. In my brother, I felt weakness—something dark and sweet that was different from the pain of external wounds, of bleeding. I’d expected there to be pain since he’d fallen over and landed on a toilet. But there was something else, something I didn’t recognize because I’d never felt it in the injured or the Lost.

I pulled Javis’s shirt back and frowned. A bruise across his stomach was already beginning to turn purple.

“Will he be all right?”

I looked up and blinked. I’d almost forgotten Sloe was there.

“Yes,” I said sharply. There was no way I wasn’t going to let Javis be all right.

I reached again with my healing talent, finding the strength within my brother and pulled at it, stretching and spreading the life in him across whatever internal and external pain I could sense. The darkness within began to fade, along with pain and injury. It was as if two forces were at play, and both were at war with my brother. Pain and injury continued to subside.

Beads of sweat formed along my temples and in the space between my brow bones. The life and strength within Javis was stuck, unable to extinguish the darkness or push it out.

I sucked in a breath and pressed harder.

Javis shook with my efforts, his eyes still closed.

Then he bolted upward and yelped.

Sloe and I gasped at the same time.

“Javis!” I called out, hugging my brother to me. I cringed. The darkness was still there, inside of him.

I pulled back, holding him at arms-distance. His eyes were bloodshot, his lids half-closed.

“What happened?”

He frowned. “I don’t know.”

I propped him up to where he could lean against the wall, then pressed my finger along the handrail until I found an emergency button. I was certain Javis could walk, but it was good practice to call for a gurney anyway, to have someone else look him over and to convince him to rest before going home.

Footsteps sounded from down the hall, earlier than expected.

I turned my head, doubtful that the orderlies were already here with the gurney.

“Madeline,” I said under my breath. My heart twisted. She rarely left her room.

The Detail Technician stared directly at me as she approached, her bright orange hair curling around her face and fanning across her shoulders.

“I thought I heard screaming,” she said softly.

I frowned as she looked down.

A look of pain clouded her face when she saw Javis on the ground.

Sloe dipped his arms forward to catch Madeline’s thin frame before she fell.

I clasped my hand across my mouth when I caught a glimpse of Javis’s reaction. The look on his face was not good. I couldn’t tell whether he was jealous of Sloe’s arms around her or upset with himself for having been weak in that moment and unable to help Madeline. I knew it wasn’t pain that I’d already helped him take away.

After a deep breath, I sighed and reached out a hand, ready to start the healing process all over again. I touched my palm to Madeline’s shoulder, searching for the calm within—her own tranquility and peacefulness and pulled it forward, growing it inside her until the anxiety melted away.

This type of healing I was more used to—an overwhelming of emotion. There was no physical injury or pain. And none of the darkness I’d felt earlier from healing Javis. By the time I was done, all trace of worry melted away and vanished from her face. But her eyes sagged with exhaustion.

Footsteps, followed by more footsteps and the rolling of wheels, rumbled across the floor. I turned, wishing I’d ordered two gurneys, one for Javis and one for Madeline.

My breath caught. Father stalked with purpose toward me, with two orderlies and a gurney behind him.

Father pressed his hand to his chest as he took in Javis on the floor, and then Madeline who still dangled from Sloe’s arms.

“What happened here?”

“Javis fell in the bathroom,” Sloe said, surprising me. “After we pulled him out here, this girl saw him and passed out. Silvie helped them both. She was…amazing.”

I found it difficult to keep my expression professional and serious. Instead, I gave Father a meaningful look, as if to say, See, I am ready for this!

His jaw tightened.

My jaw tightened, too. But then I let my lips curl upward into the smirk I’d tried to suppress—a shadow of Father’s own smirk that I’d seen on many occasions.

As we squared off, the orderlies scrambled to lift Javis onto the gurney. Flashes of the teardrop emblem of Edgar from the patches on their uniform sleeves blurred past me.

Father squeezed his forehead with his hand. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Sloe.”

“It’s a hospital.” Sloe shrugged. “I understand.”

After responding with a slight nod, Father turned to me. “I’ll take over from here. Make sure our guest departs safely.”

Continue the adventure with Chapter 16. >>>

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Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 14

Deep in the forest, two men crouched over the crackle of fire. The pale light of the flames highlighted hands lined with scars. The unhooded man pulled his hands back and sat on his heels.

He turned to his companion.

“How long do we wait?”

“It won’t be long. If we hide, he’ll find us. It will only make matters worse.”

The hooded man grunted. He stared in the direction of the world’s entrance portal. Instead of sitting on his heels, he squatted, ready to pounce. His hand rested on the hilt of a weapon hidden beneath his cloak.

A hand, followed by a pair of arms, and a body emerged from the portal.

The man in the tunic smiled broadly.

“Do you have it?” he called out as he worked his way to the fire. Slowly. He tugged at the tunic that tugged at his steps.

The cloaked men stood from the ground. The unhooded man’s lips remained silent in a face as cold and hard as stone. His companion did not move.

Sharp eyes glittered through slits in their visitor’s mask. “Well, where is it? Where is the baglamas?”

“We will have it soon,” said the hooded man. “It’s not in our possession, but we have found someone who will retrieve it.”

The man in the tunic squeezed his chin before responding with a roar of laughter. “We have found someone who will retrieve it,” echoed the man in the tunic, his voice mimicking the blood curdling pitch of the hooded man’s voice. “That,” he said sharply, “is what I have asked you to do. You were to retrieve the baglamas and bring it to me.”

He turned from the fire. The rear of his tunic shook violently.

The heads of the cloaked men turned toward one another, snapping back in position when the body of their unwelcome visitor stilled.

The man in the tunic inhaled deeply and turned to the cloaked men. The pallor of the fire reached his face, highlighting the redness there. It was not clear whether the sudden flush came about through anger or glee. Or, perhaps, a little of both.

He scratched his head. “So, let me get this straight. You asked someone to go and get the baglamas for you, and they’re going to do that and bring it to you?”

“It was an order accompanied by a threat,” said the hooded man.

“Ah, good!” The man in the tunic clapped his hands. “It seems you’re finally learning something.” He glanced at the ground as if considering how he would seat himself by the fire. “That boulder over there,” he said, pointing. “Bring it here, and place it in front of the fire. I’d like to hear more about your plan, and who it is that will retrieve the baglamas.”

The hooded man grunted. He pulled the boulder from the earth. Soil and vine clung to it as he carried it to the fire and dropped it before the man in the tunic.

The man in the tunic bent forward and brushed off the top of the boulder before easing backward into a semi-seated position.

“Go on, tell me,” he said with a wave of his hands.

The unhooded man crossed his arms. “We found a Time Keeper.”

The mouth of the man in the tunic dropped open. “One who reads and unlocks portals?”

“Yes. He arrived here with a girl. We captured both of them and threatened the girl’s life if he did not agree to find the baglamas.”

More clapping came from the man in the tunic. He squinted up at the cloaked men. “Does he—the Time Keeper—know where it is?”

“He has seen the instrument. He attended the Healer’s funeral. We overheard him talking about it. He has a lead, and if he knows what’s good for him, he is currently looking for it.”

“Why didn’t you ask him where he thought it could be? It could have shortened the process, and then you could have gone and looked for it yourselves.”

“We couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t warn whomever he was going to take it from. It would have been necessary to threaten the girl’s life either way. And if he was a guest at the funeral, he has an insider’s advantage.”

“You know very well we can’t leave here for long periods of time,” added his companion.

The man in the tunic nodded. He grinned widely. “And where is the girl?”

“She was of no use to us. She has no travel talents, so we let her return with the Time Keeper in exchange for his promise.”

“In other words, you let both of them escape. You fools!”

“But he cares for the girl,” gargled the hooded man. “If he doesn’t deliver the baglamas soon, we will catch her. We could use a portal trap. The Time Keeper may not be fooled, but she will be.”

His companion grinned. “Especially if we make it nice and sparkly.”

“She has no travel talents. She will want to impress the boy—to be like him.”

The man in the tunic sat still with his hands clasped at this lap. “To impress him.” He smiled. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we find the girl and bring her here.”

“No.”

The hooded man made a choking sound before speaking. “Why not?”

“I don’t trust you to keep her here. If and when she arrives, whether by portal trap or brute force, you will bring her to me.”

“She is not part of the deal.”

“Oh, but you see,” said the man in the tunic. He pulled at the lower half of his garments as he struggled to bend and stand. “You have made her part of the deal. By bringing her and the boy into my problem, my secrets—”

“Your secrets?”

“I had no intention of making my desire for the baglamas known to anyone except to you, whom I’ve arranged to help me with this task.” The clenching and unclenching of his jaw made small crunching and popping sounds. “And now there are two others who know about this. I ask you again: what were you thinking?”

“We didn’t tell them about you. For all they know, we want the baglamas.”

The man in the tunic chuckled. “Is that what’s happening here? Are you planning to betray me by keeping the instrument for yourselves?”

“No,” growled the hooded man. He towered over the man in the tunic, with his face so close that his hood grazed the smaller man’s brow. “We agreed that we will give you the baglamas, and then you will set us free. Your terms, not ours. Trying to confuse us won’t work.”

The man in the tunic stepped backward. His lips formed an indignant smile. “Be sure to keep your end of the bargain.” He scanned the dark woods, stretching his neck toward the river that flowed through it, and smiled more graciously. “Because if you don’t, you will be tied to this world, to this wasteland in time and space, for always.”

The crunch of bone chomping bone or teeth gnashing teeth could be heard from beneath the hooded man’s cowl. He cracked the knuckles along his hands. “Enough of your talk and your reminders. If you’re finished here, let us be. We’ll contact you when we have the baglamas.”

“Strong words for someone with less power than he thinks. But I sense I’m not welcome here. I will leave for now. Don’t keep me waiting.”

The man in the tunic clasped his hands and shot a simpering grin in the direction of the river. “Have you been able to open that portal?” he said. “The one atop the island of stone?”

The hooded man grunted. “No. We’ve tried. It’s locked, and we’re unsure where it leads.”

“That’s too bad,” he said with a wicked grin. He looked down at his tunic and then wistfully toward the river. “On the other hand, had you been able to leave this place through that portal, the pain would get to you, eventually. I’d try it myself, of course, but I have other means…”

The cloaked man who wore no hood snorted, his gaze fixed on the cumbersome tunic. “I’d like to see you try to navigate the river and climb the rock.”

“Enough,” said the man in the tunic. “I’m overstaying my welcome. You must be delirious with sleep. You no longer make sense.”

He turned and walked back to the portal he’d entered, only instead of stepping through the way he came, he walked to the space behind it, and turned his back toward the portal. Then, with small steps, he walked backwards until he disappeared.

“It’s a good thing he left,” growled the hooded man, cracking his knuckles again. “I grow tired of him more quickly each time we meet.”

“Agreed, though it would have been worth it to see him try to get to the portal on the rock.” He chuckled darkly.

“To see him smack his face on the water?”

“Exactly.”

“Then to see him curse at not being able to open it.” The hooded man lazily threw more wood on the fire. Warmth and light spread, throwing shadows across him and his companion.

“And what if he could? What if the portal opened for him—what would that mean?”

“That he’s a talent like none seen before.”

The man who wore no hood stretched forward and rubbed his hands over the revived blaze. “It is frustrating that we can build portals and travel through those we build. But we cannot unlock this one. If he’s right—that temporary separation from this world will cause us pain—it would be worth seeing where it goes. Even if we got lost.”

The hooded man grunted. “That’s the only reason keeping me from destroying the portal on the rock. I’ve seen others like it, in other worlds. It’s as if each entrance portal has a companion portal that cannot be unlocked by anyone but a Time Keeper.”

“What do you mean?”

“The entrance portal here can be accessed because it is not locked on this side. But its companion portal, and others similar to the portal on the rock, are always locked.”

The man who wore no hood cleared the grit from his throat and sat back on a log. He stared at the portal, thoughtfully. “If the boy, the Time Keeper, was able to take the girl through, then he could port us, too.”

“I have no doubt of that. In fact, I’ve already considered it. But first, we must collect the baglamas.”

Continue the adventure with Chapter 15. >>>

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Darker Stars BETA: Chapter 13 Meeting

I opened my eyes to streams of glittering light and groaned. I glared at the blinds that covered my bedroom windows. No matter how tightly I pulled them shut, they didn’t keep out the morning light. I’d tried wearing a mask over my eyes at night, to help me stay asleep until my alarm went off, but it hadn’t worked. I’d only wake up the next morning to find the mask buried in my bedsheets or slung across the room. Every blanket I tried to cover the window with had been bleached by the suns. Perhaps it was time to invest in a heavy set of curtains.

I grumped as I left the warmth of my bed and opened my closet door. Hangers covered in blue uniforms, my work clothes, made up the greater part of my wardrobe. I stared longingly at the soft, comfortable sweaters and dark pants before grabbing one of the uniforms. It wasn’t the cutest look, style wise, but it would have to do for showing Sloe around the hospital.

It wasn’t like I had the day off…ever. Unless, of course, my Father decided to declare vacation time as a punishment. I gritted my teeth. I saw no way around introducing Sloe to my Father while making my rounds, though I was still annoyed with him. I considered asking Javis for help until I remembered that I was annoyed with him, too.

What I wouldn’t give for a few female friends, or a sister. I’d gotten close to some of the recovering Lost who were roughly my age, but their visits were temporary. Our goal was to help them heal so they could go home. Few of them ever came back to visit us on Edgar. My lips pinched into a frown as my eyes passed over the photograph on the table next to my bed. Things would be different if Mother were still here.

After getting ready for the day and grabbing a light breakfast, I stepped outside to a bright, warm sky. Another beautiful day. I pressed my hand to my brow, careful not to smudge my newly drawn eyebrows, and searched the field of flowers. My eyes shifted to the spot where Sloe had said there was an entrance portal to Edgar. No one had come through it, yet.

I tiptoed through the flowers to meet him there, hoping I wouldn’t have to wait long. I breathed in the fragrance of the flowers and tapped at my timepiece. I guess it wouldn’t hurt for me to start my shift later than usual. Sloe was a guest, and the recovering Lost perked up in general when we had outside visitors, which wasn’t often. This could work, I told myself, even though I still couldn’t shake a shade of suspicion that lingered, an intuitive feeling that something wasn’t quite right. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew I had to test the feeling, to protect the residents of Edgar—my family and the recovering Lost.

I rubbed at the bare skin of my forearms. They were already beginning to sting from the heat of the triple suns. I considered running back inside the house to grab a jacket or parasol. Tiny beads of perspiration formed across my forehead, dangerously close to my “upper eye” makeup. I swiftly dabbed them away with the handkerchief I kept in my pocket for that specific purpose.

“Come on, Sloe,” I muttered. “I can’t bake out here all day.”

Moments later, a pair of hands, followed by a pair of arms, and then the rest of a person stepped forward, not toward me but at an angle in front of me. It was like someone had walked through a blade of glass that had been empty on both sides. And instead of seeing the person walk through from behind the glass, there was no entrance, just an exit, as if the person had been invisible and then took form on the other side.

Sloe hiccupped when he saw me. “Oh, hey. I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me.” When his face and body relaxed, I noticed how the sun’s light made his features more visible than they had the night before. Aborealian-black hair framed his face and made his eyes pop a glossy, lavender ice. His face was more angular, his cheekbones higher and more pronounced than I remembered. I’d seen him in full daylight only one other time, and that was at my grandfather’s funeral. But that was from farther away.

“Well, no portal bell, you know.” I smiled at him, more shyly now that he was this close, realizing that the brightness of the suns also made me more visible to him.

He smiled back at me, but there was a touch of wariness in his eyes. The expression went away when he looked down at my uniform. “So, you are a healer?”

“Yeah, though it feels like I’m still in training. So, um, ready for the grand tour?”

“Sure.” He smiled again, more relaxed this time.

“Right this way,” I said with an exaggerated arm flourish. “Edgar has only two buildings, and today we will be visiting Building Two.”

Sloe chuckled as he follow me onto and across the path. “That’s twice as many than the Clock Tower has. But, given how many portals there are attached to the outside of the tower, it doesn’t take me long to find more buildings if I really want to.”

I smiled. “My father grew up in world kind of like that—the White Tower. One building, but with an interior hallway that never ends. Each door on the inside leads to a new place.” I looked up at the suns. “I guess that’s kind of the opposite of your world, in a way.”

He scratched at the back of his head. “That’s different.”

“Father doesn’t visit there often, but maybe I could take you there sometime.” I blinked, surprised by how eagerly and effortlessly I’d said that.

“Really?”

I shrugged. “Just an idea.”

“I’d like that,” he said. He turned and kept his eyes on the path while walking.

“Do you have brothers or sisters?” I asked, wondering if they’d been at Grandpa Plaka’s funeral, too.

“No, it’s just me, Mom, and Dad. You?”

“One brother, Javis. He was at the funeral, but he got there late.”

Sloe nodded. “He was the guy who sat next to you at the reception, right?”

“Yes,” I said, surprised he’d noticed. “You’ll get to meet him here at the hospital. He should be making his rounds.”

I opened the door to the hospital, frowning. It sounded lonely at the Clock Tower. If that was his home, and the portals were on the outside of the tower, that meant he didn’t have neighbors like we did—a hospital full of recovering Lost. I felt ashamed of my earlier pouting over not having enough females around. Poor Sloe didn’t have much of anybody—male or female.
Several of the recovering Lost were walking along the hallways, some staring at the space before them; others attempted conversations with each other. I wrinkled my nose. Sometimes they confused each other with their stories about where they’d been searching and who they were looking for. By the time they were able to discuss more intelligible topics, it was almost time for them to go—to move on and to go home. This usually made me sad seeing as it seemed I was just getting to know them. But I was also happy for them—proud in a bittersweet way.

I looked sideways at Sloe to measure his reaction. His lips were set in a tight frown.

“Are these people similar to the lost travelers my mom told me about?” he said. “Like the Lost in Susana?”

I sucked in a breath. Father had told me that story, about how the TSTA had sent talented travelers on impossible missions to find their lost loved ones and then became lost themselves; only, their tortures were deeper and led them to a place of suffering: Susana.

“No,” I said quickly. “The recovering Lost here in Edgar are very sick, but Mother told me they’re nothing like the Lost were in Susana. She was,” I gulped, “one of them, actually. Before Father and Grandpa Plaka found her.”

Sloe frowned. “Sorry. I’m not sure I’ve heard the whole story—only pieces.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You probably haven’t seen people like our recovering Lost.”

His lips quivered slightly.

Whoops, that was awkward. Where was Javis? He was so much better at putting people at ease through talking instead of touch. I balled my fists, half tempted to reach out and press my hand to Sloe’s shoulder, to calm him with my healing talent. But I didn’t want to freak him out.

“Down this hallway…” I pointed. “This is where I start my rounds. The recovering Lost like visitors, but we should probably do that in the gymnasium or in one of the common rooms.”

He held up his arms and his eyes went wide. “Yeah, no, I mean—I don’t want to invade anyone’s personal space.”

I rubbed my chin. “Maybe we should check in with Father, first.”

My eyes darted back and forth along the hallway. I frowned as I passed rooms I should have visited already. Where, oh where, is Javis? Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I could do this—juggle showing Sloe around with getting my morning shift work done. But I’d promised.

I figured it would be easier to visit Father with someone else there to help break the ice, anyway. “Yeah, let’s start with Father,” I said awkwardly.

His door was cracked open. I knocked softly below his nameplate, Valcas Hall, Superintendent, etched deeply in brass.

“Yes?”

“We have a visitor,” I said, making my voice sound as official as possible, which sounded ridiculous as soon as I heard myself aloud. “I thought we’d check in with you before I make my rounds.”

“Come in.”

I pushed the door open. Father sat at his desk, pen in hand, his desk scattered with documents. Glowing electronic devices covered the desk’s back corner, one of which had a red light that was blinking. He pressed a finger to the screen of the blinking device and looked up.

“This is Sloe,” I said. “He’s visiting us from the Clock Tower.”

His gaze flickered across me briefly, then landed on Sloe. He pressed his lower lip forward before standing and offering his hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Yes, sir,” said Sloe. Even though he was taller than me, he had to look up to meet Father’s eyes. His hand pressed firmly into the one Father held open as they shook. “Sorry if I’m keeping Silvie from her work,” he said, releasing their grip.

“If you’re from the Clock Tower, then you must be Nick and Ivory’s son.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are they well?”

Sloe shrugged. “They seem to be.”

“Give them my best. Your mother and I are old friends; I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to speak with her at the funeral.” He narrowed his eyes, sizing up Sloe’s appearance. “You resemble her father, Coal, but you have Nick’s eyes.”

“So I’ve heard.” Sloe smiled.

I suppressed a grin. I’d wondered why Sloe’s hair was Aborealian black when both of his parents had white hair. It made sense now that Ivory’s father had dark hair, especially if his name was Coal. What was weirder was how everyone standing in Father’s office had the exact same hair color. Father and I got our dark hair from my grandmother, Sable.

Father’s eyes passed between me and Sloe again, expectantly this time, almost as if he wanted to ask us why Sloe was here, now that it had been established that his parents were well.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “If you’d told me in advance that you were going to have a visitor, I could have found someone to cover your shifts.”

I frowned. “That’s not necessary. After a quick tour, I’ll catch up on both shifts. I’m sure Sloe has other plans for today, too. Well, I guess we should start—”

The rumbling of rolling wheels sounded from the hallway. The sound grew louder, then stopped. I suppressed a groan. Now you decide to show up?

Javis’s smiling face poked through the doorway, then scrunched up when he saw Sloe in there with us. “Hey,” he said. “You’re that guy from the funeral.”

Sloe’s eyes widened. “You remember me?”

“Yeah, you were the one checking out—” He grew quiet when Father’s eyes bored into his head. Javis cleared his throat. “You stood out because of your eye color. Purple’s not very Chascadian.”

Sloe exhaled and laughed.

I felt my cheeks warm. Had he known what Javis was going to say before changing his sentence? That Sloe was ‘the one checking out’ me? I really, really hoped he and Father hadn’t filled in the rest of the words in their own minds.

“Yeah, the purple eye color usually gets attention. I’m Sloe, by the way. Good to meet you, um…”

“Javis,” my brother said. He rolled his bin to the side of the hallway and stepped through the door. He raised a hand covered in a rubber glove before dropping it. “Sorry, caught me in the middle of my rounds.”

“No problem. You work here?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, all of you then.”

“Speaking of…” Father nodded toward the door. “I have some items I need to attend to. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hall.”

“You’re welcome, Sloe. Send your parents my best, and please remind them they are free to visit Edgar anytime. You are all welcome here.”

“Will do.”

As we turned to leave, I thought I heard Father mutter something under his breath. It was a soft whisper, difficult to hear, but I couldn’t help but think I heard the words, No use waiting for another funeral. Wow, Father. Depressing much? I frowned, thinking of Mother and Grandpa Plaka, and how much I missed them.

On our way out the door, Father added, “Silvie, are you sure you don’t need coverage for your shift?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” I slipped into the hallway, hoping my face cooled off before anyone else noticed.

Continue the adventure with Chapter 14. >>>

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