Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Opal watches the clock continuously, the hour hand so close to the three.

She has already packed all her things in her bag, her desk cleared of any items. The physics teacher drones on about organic molecules, the addition, elimination, and substitution reactions.

“An addition reaction occurs when two or more reactants combine to form a single product. This product will contain all the atoms that were present in the reactants. Addition reactions occur with unsaturated compounds.”

Mr. Kellerman taps on the interactive whiteboard to transition to the next slide.

“An elimination reaction occurs when a reactant is broken up into two products. Elimination reactions occur with saturated compounds.”

The clock strikes three. The bell shrieks. A bombardment of movement.

“Excuse me?”

Everyone freezes, looking partly perplexed.

“The bell does not dismiss you. I do. Now sit down.”

Everyone trades annoyed looks, grumbling as they occupy their vacated seats.

Opal’s finger twitches and her hand shoots up.

“Opal?”

“Mr. Kellerman, some of us have extracurricular activities. I for one have to go practice for my upcoming recital that I cannot miss.”

“And you won’t,” he says in a way that conveys that he couldn’t be bothered. “But I will conclude my teaching for today.”

He resumes where he left off. Opal drops against the seat, blowing out a defeated sigh. Several minutes pass and she checks her phone to see her notification screen mounting with messages.

Aries

Where you?

Aries

Everyone comin out, where you at?

Opal checks the front to see if it’s safe to respond. Mr. Kellerman has his back to the class as he writes an equation on the interactive screen, including the additional notes on the side.

Opal

Still in class, I’ll be out soon, just be patient!

Aries

I got a surprise for you.

Opal

…Why does that scare me?

Aries

Just get out.

Opal

What do you want me to do? Just walk out?

Aries

Ye.

Opal drops the phone in her lap with an eye roll. She settles back and tries to dedicate the last few moments of class to paying attention.

Eventually, Mr. Kellerman releases them and everyone gushes out of the doorway as if in fear of being called back.

Opal hurries to the open doors of the primary entrance and trots down the paved steps. There are still idle clusters of students talking in the parking lot by their cars.

Aries is front and center, resting against the hood of his car with his arms folded against his chest, squinting from the sunlight in his eyes, but still chooses not to look away.

Opal approaches, a smile weaving itself through her lips.

“I’m running out of excuses to tell my dad.”

He outstretches his arm expectantly, and she hands him her school bag.

“What have you been telling him?”

“That I’m helping out Dana, five times in the past ten days. Suspicious since I’ve never hung out with her that much. Our friendship is the type that remains in the parameters of school hours, you know?”

Aries opens the passenger door for her.

“Are you going to keep doing that every time?”

“You gonna keep asking?”

She gets in, and he closes the door behind her and moves to place her bag in the backseat.

Opal throws her head back, alerted by a distressingly divine smell. Aries takes the packet and makes his way to the driver’s side, climbing halfway in with his one leg out.

“What’s this?”

He drops the packet on her lap.

She glances at him warily and unfolds the top, peeking inside. Opal gapes at it, looking back at a smirking Aries with fish eyes.

Her hand dives in and she draws out the gourmet hot dog almost as long as her forearm, wrapped in a grease-proof paper bag.

“Remember that?”

“How can I forget?”

Opal inspects the toasted whole-wheat baguette, a thick sauce-infused sausage spread with chipotle mayonnaise with a caramelized onion and slices of avocado, all layered in a bubbling coat of cheese.

She looks back at him again. His smile lights up his tawny skin, so warm and bright like becoming his own sun. A rare smile, not a smirk but a smile woven by a heartfelt delight.

“Aries…I can’t eat this.”

“If I’m remembering right…you ate ~two~ of these?”

“And where’s yours?”

“Ate it while waiting for you. I had a meeting, and it was on my way.”

“Meeting, huh? Who’d you meet with, fellow drug lords or underworld leaders?” she says with a laugh, but it dies when she sees his blank, no-laughing-matter expression. “Wait, did you actually meet with—”

“Eat.”

“No.” She lifts it a little higher into the air. “It’s almost the length of my arm.”

“If the little you could do it, the older you definitely can.” He makes an open hand gesture. “But if you can’t own up to the challenge, there is no shame in admitting defeat. But there is shame in failure.”

“I did not fail!” she says with an inflection that makes her voice sharp. “How can I fail at a challenge I haven’t participated in?”

“Exactly. Failed to even try.”

Her fervor fizzles out, doused by a realization. “I know what you’re doing. I can’t believe you think I’m so prideful or competitive that you actually thought you could bait me with that?”

Aries gives her a knowing look.

She yields. “A challenge normally comes with a reward. What do I get if I win?”

Something lecherous lures his lips into a one-sided, seductive smile. Opal’s stomach flips over at the sight. He leans in to whisper his bargain in her ear.

Shock leaps from her mouth in the form of her gasp and she shoots her head back, pushing his face away from hers in revulsion.

“Why would I want that?”

“Everyone wants that.”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would be glad to hear that.”

“Good thing she doesn’t exist.”

She swings over a doubtful look. “Really? You?”

“I don’t see why that’s surprising.”

“You’re built like a demi-god, that’s why.”

“Stop stalling.” He steals a moment to think about something. “If you eat all of it. ~All of it~,” he repeats for clarification. “I’ll buy you whatever you want or take you shopping or whatever.”

Opal’s elation deflates like a breathless balloon, remembering how he makes his money.

“I’ll settle for you finally telling me why you hate your birthday so much.”

“Deal,” he says with surprising speed.

Opal sets her focus on the mission in her grasp. She nods readily and takes a bite. An explosion of taste from just one crunch, a medley of flavors slipping down and thrilling her tongue.

Opal frees a moan and takes two more—three more bites. And falters by the fifth.

“You’re doing good,” he encourages. “Go on.”

***

Opal drops down on the edge of the wooden pier, both arms stretched behind her.

“I am so full—stuffed!”

“Good.”

Aries places himself beside her, looking out at the scenery. The visage of the lake is veneer-clear and tranquil, flanked by an avenue of cedar trees, and the whiff of mint wafts up to them.

There is a feng-shui perfection to the scene; the marriage between nature and silence births a soul-soothing peace.

“Don’t get all tight-lipped on me. I want to collect my reward now. I want to know.”

“Can’t we take some time to just ~digest~ the moment?”

Her eyes narrow into slits.

He concedes with a curt nod.

“There’s nothing to say. A day before my birthday, my grandpops died.

“I tried calling my dad—even though he cut ties with us the day he dropped Calum and me with my mom, he just went ghost.

“He didn’t even show up for the funeral, not for either of them. My birthday reminded me of all of that.”

~Reminded~. Heartbreak tries to squeeze the tears from her eyes, a heart-rending truth that he delivered with cold calm. A way that sounds like the slew of ordeals emptied him of his emotions a long time ago.

A memory eclipses another, making an intersection. “Wasn’t that round the time that you beat Akin to the ground?”

He gives another terse nod.

“I’ll never forget that time,” Opal says with bitter-sweet nostalgia. “That moment.”

“I was just surprised Akin didn’t fight back. Not that he would’ve succeeded.”

“He could see you were hurting,” she says tenderly. “We all could. We didn’t know nor will we ever truly understand, but we just…tried to let you know that we were there for you.

“And I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. If I’d known—”

“You didn’t.”

“Because you didn’t tell us, and then you left. I know why. But it still sucks. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I handled it.”

Opal looks at him, longing to comfort him but not knowing how.

“Have you spoken to the others?”

Opal looks to the sky painted with amethyst streaks and purpling pinks. “I have. I spoke to Akin—well, actually, he approached me some time ago. It was nice…until he brought up Keila and I freaked.”

“I hear he’s been doing good on the field.”

“Yeah, he’s extraordinary. He really has a shot of going pro.”

“And Mia?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a lazy shrug. “I’ve seen her around from afar, but that’s it. And Keila, she was a superstar athlete on the track before she went missing.”

“Missing,” he utters, a word he so reviles. “It’s an insult to say that about her. It pisses me off, even when they say it about Erin.”

“We can’t exactly correct them.”

“I know.”

Aries twists his shoulders with his back to her and he lies down, using Opal’s lap as his pillow. He looks up at her, tethering their gaze.

His malachite-green eyes are lush meadows drenched in sunlight and varnished in dew. A captivating contradiction to his ebony hair, inky strands spilling on her skirt.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she murmurs, unable to look away, “Braidwood has these handfuls of events, annually, exclusive for the seniors to celebrate their culmination with the school.

“The first one is the Summer Soiree, which is coming up soon.”

“A soiree?”

“It’s like a school dance, but a thousand times fancier. I think this year it’s being hosted at the country club.”

“Sounds like a waste of money.” His face brightens with a lightbulb expression. “Oh, you’re asking me out?”

“No!” Her neck and cheeks flush with red. “No, just to accompany me as my friend.”

“Your ~friend~?”

“My ~friend~,” she says with matching the melodrama. “I know you don’t like Braidwood people much and the kids at Braidwood High can be prudish but—”

“Ye, I’ll come. But I can’t stay long.”

“Fair enough.”

He gazes up into the cosmos encapsulated in her eyes, shimmering like black gemstones. A stark contrast to her pearly skin, not pale but porcelain, a heart-shaped face with sweet roundish features.

“So, how is your brother? We’ve never met him. What’s he like?”

“Calum?” His gaze drifts to the sky. “That kid doesn’t get that he’s my whole world. He has all the good parts of my mom.

“A pure heart. And I regret that I might’ve poisoned it…because I didn’t want this world to do it before I did.

“At first he couldn’t accept that our dad wasn’t coming back now…sometimes I can see a bit of me in him. And that shit scares me like nothing else.”

“You dealt with too much, too young, Aries,” she says, hoping her words will offer even a morsel of solace.

“You just didn’t want him to go through the pain that you did. You’re shielding him because no one shielded you.”

Her hand lifts on its own whim, her fingers scouring through his soft strands of hair like spun silk.

Aries’s eyes flutter close and he allows himself this piece of comfort, a moment to let go.

He cannot begin to express the burden of being the stronghold of his family and upholding the legacy of his line. The responsibility is an all-consuming fire.

“You’re an incredible brother. And you have a good heart, Aries.” His name is like a caress to his cheek.

His eyes peel open. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw all the parts of me.”

Her eyes pour into his. “Then show me.”

Sometime between chat and confession, dusk dawned, ushering in twilight; and twilight summons the night.

The water is gilded with moonlight-pale light, a teardrop-silver in color, shaped like a perfectly flat disk of metal.

No sound rings out from the shimmering emptiness of space around it, giving the fanciful illusion that they are the only pair left in the dark world.

Aries rises first with the demand to take her back home.

And after half an hour, she returns.

Opal walks up to the front door, and Aries watches from his car, a few blocks down.

She glances at the matte black SUV blending in with the night. The only dead giveaway is the headlights. Opal knocks on the door and a heartbeat later the door swoops open.

Her father yells a tirade, and her mother rushes in to add to the dissonance.

~“Wǒ chàdiǎn bàojǐng!”~

“Call the police for what?” she answers back with a raised voice. “I told you I was with Dana. Her mom asked if I could stay for dinner and I didn’t want to be disrespectful, so I said yes.”

Her father visibly relaxes at this.

“So you ate?”

~Oh, I know what she’s asking~.

“Yes, I had a vegan casserole with a diet Coke,” she says, dispensing lies with unquestionable resolve.

Daiyu nods with slight content. “This gallivanting of yours needs to stop. You need to be practicing more.”

“Yes, ~āmā~. Can I go? I want to finish up my homework.”

Her mother flicks her hand in approval.

Opal trudges to her room, energy and excitement gone in an instant. She opens her door and closes it, flipping on the lights.

She drops her bag by her desk and moves to close the curtains in front of it. She looks at the table and remembers not only has she not even started her homework.

She still has to begin her two assignments from biology and chemistry and still prepare two essays for literature and history before Friday. Three days from now.

Opal sinks into her chair. She glances at the closed door, watching as she reaches her hand under the table, grabbing the bag that she taped to the surface.

Opal draws it out and looks at the white, transparent bag with only two pills left.

Her phone buzzes. She jolts.

Opal drops the bag in her lap and checks her phone.

Aries

You in safe?

Opal

You saw me walk in.

Aries

Nah i meant with your parents.

Opal

It’s all good.

Aries

Good.

Aries

At least you can take a break from lying. I got stuff I need to handle the rest of this week. You free on the weekend?

Opal

I’m studying but Saturday I’m going dress shopping for my upcoming recital.

Aries

With your mom?

Opal

Hell no, shopping with her would be like cooking with Gordon Ramsey.

Aries

Where you shoppin at?

Opal

You want to come dress shopping with me?

Aries

I could care less what I do with you as long as it’s with you.

Opal

The central mall, I’ll be there at 2pm.

Aries

K. And send me the details to your recital. Thought I wasn’t going to ask?

Opal lifts her gaze from the screen with a smile, ounces of energy returning to her.

She rolls the chair closer and places her phone flat on the desk, then she retrieves her textbook and workbook with the intent of whittling down the load.

Once everything is laid out, even her highlighters are arrayed in the perfect color spectrum.

She hesitates, not quite ready to start just yet, vaguely worried about another door she has opened and what it could bring in.

Her eyes dart to both the pills and her phone. She takes the phone and makes a call. Only after the second attempt is there a response.

“I’m not allowed to talk to you.”

“Eli—wait what? Why?”

“Big boss’s orders. But I think we can both guess why.”

“That’s not why I called. I called to talk about your boss. What do you know about him?”

“By the look of things, you know him more intimately than I do—or anyone ever will.”

“I know, I think I know, one aspect of him. I know him as the boy from my past, but I don’t know what he has grown into. From your perspective, how does he runs things…How is he like to you?”

“Ruthless,” he says with a semi-confused laugh. “I mean, he has to be, in this business. Even right now he has his interests challenged, suspected leaks in the organization.

“Those kind of things must be met with swift brutality. And to explain in it a way you would understand. In that arena, he is a straight-A student.”

The pit in her stomach opens up, wrenched apart by dismay.

“What does that mean?”

“Aries has a lot more pressure than an average crime boss. He is very young and everyone under the boy king is a decade or decades older than him.

“He constantly has to prove his worth to rule, but he is quickly outdoing his predecessor. I mean, he is forging alliances with the Yakuza and foreign syndicates.

“He’s proved himself to be business savvy and cunning. And he is feared; so he is respected.”

“Feared,” she whispers absently.

“The only reason I’m telling you all of this is because you seem like a nice girl, Opal. Nice people tend to die in our world, traitors and casualties alike.

“If you’re thinking about getting into bed with the boss, you might want to reconsider.”

“No—I—”

He drops the call.

***

“What about this one?”

Opal whips the curtain of the dressing room open, posing in the doorway to showcase the dress.

Aries sits on the cushioned bench, resting against the wall with his throat exposed. “Fine.”

She snaps into a disgruntled position with her arms crossed. “~Fine~? You are literally the worst. You’ve said that for the fourth time.”

“I don’t got a big vocabulary, I couldn’t think of more words after the twentieth dress.”

She smiles contemptuously. “Try ~adjectives~ like beautiful or remarkable.”

“When I see it, I’ll let you know.”

Opal lets out an insulted gasp, steps back and whips the curtain back close. A series of shuffling, muttering, the clanking of hangers meeting with the floor ensues, sounding with a struggle.

“You need help getting out of that dress?”

“Shut up.”

Shortly she comes out again in a new dress, white, long-sleeved with dazzling sequins and it ends far above her knees.

He evaluates it from down his nose, his head still inclined. “Too short.”

“I like it.”

“Too short,” he says with a rumble in his chest.

“For that, it’s one of my top three choices.”

She closes the curtain with a cheeky grin. And she changes into the last dress that has thin straps and is cinched in at the waist but it flares out from the hips slightly.

The ankle-length under-dress has a stunning creamy gold mesh overlay with black floral patterns. The mesh overlay is long-sleeved with a mock neck A-line.

Opal comes out again. “Is this~ fine~, too?”

“Breathtaking.”

Opal chooses the last dress to buy and several other casual pieces. When it’s time to pay, the woman behind the counter scans the items and folds them neatly with speed, packing them into the bags without even looking.

“Cash or card?”

“Card,” Aries says.

He takes a stunned Opal by the waist and moves her aside to pay for everything. The woman thanks him and he collects all three bags to carry as he casually makes his way out of the boutique.

Opal’s shock subsides, and she hurries to follow him out.

“Uh, what was that?”

“Funny way of saying thank you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that?”

He bops a shoulder. “I wanted to. Now can we eat? I’m starving.”

“Ya, I’m sure sitting down the whole time really took a lot of you,” she says, sarcasm coating every word. “You sure don’t need a massage after all that hard work?”

He gives her a long, lingering once-over. “I am kinda stiff.”

She gives him a warning glare. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Any place with ribs on their menu.”

Her eyes skim over the faceless crowd, contemplating for a second. “I know a steakhouse not far from here. My dad loves their lamb chops, but I hear their ribs are pretty good.”

“…Steakhouse?”

“Ya, but they do takeout. We can eat by the pier?”

“I’m game for that,” Aries says, his face knitting into a solemn look. “Then we can talk.”

“About?”

“I don’t want you lying to your parents no more, and hiding me from them like I’m some dirty secret. Would it be so bad to tell them who you’ve been with? They knew me once upon a time.”

Opal opens her mouth, incoherent sounds stuttering out.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“You can reunite with them if I can meet Calum.”

Aries breaks into a grin, his tongue does a swipe of his teeth. “Okay, I see you. You really want to meet him?”

“Of course I do.” She looks up at him, trying to hook his gaze. “What’s the matter? You look like you’re a little unsure?”

“Calum never met anyone from my past, not even my men now—other than my boy, Jax. I try to keep him away from all of that.”

“Meaning, you’ve never brought a girl home?”

“No.”

“How about you come home with us after my recital? I know my dad has a celebratory dinner lined up, because he always does, even when I lose.”

Aries gives a considering nod. “Ye, if it’s cool with your parents that I crash.”

“Okay.” She springs out in front of him to walk backward, flippant to any incoming people. “So when can I meet Calum?”

“When the time is right.”

^INTERLUDE: The Black Glade^

^NINE YEARS AGO^

Erin was forsaken to the mercy of the heaving rapids, roiling and writhing in a cyclone of water that pulled her body in different directions, not knowing left from right, helpless to the storm stirring her in its cauldron.

A great scar of seething light appeared from above like a breach, a lesion glowing with molten light. Her lungs were burning and panic threatened to drown her before the water had a chance.

She wrung out every granule of willpower and fought to the top, fighting through the pain until her head broke through the surface.

Erin sucked in a sharp breath, like it was her first.

The waters were stilled into silence, everything quiet, even the atmosphere was transformed. Confusion and awe waged a battle within her.

Marble and granite lined the walls. She glanced up at the ceiling that was decorated with glass mosaic which reflected light into the pool she was in that sparkled with an iridescent effect.

Erin gawked at the waters. She was no longer in a river but in an Olympic-size pool framed by a construction that bore semblance to a grand fountain, a monumental basin ornate with acanthus leaf finials carved into the limestone.

Erin walked through the chest-high water until she reached the edge. She gripped the ledge and clambered over it, sopping wet but not cold. It was as warm as a summer day. The heat in the air drove the chill from her bones.

Erin made a slow approach to the only exit, a huge, grandiose Corinthian archway. And she abandoned the chamber of fine mosaic floors, marble-covered walls, and decorative statues.

Erin stepped out into a corridor. Ahead of her was a passageway that seemed to lead outside. To the right and left was an extension of the edifice.

In no mood to explore, she bolted into the passageway of cobblestones, dead fire torches posted on its walls. She ran out, dim light growing until she emerged outside.

She swiveled around and backed away, her head raising, craning her neck back to view the entirety of the massive palace-size building, most of its size encumbered by the woods.

Panic reared up in her, and she emptied her stomach on the forest floor. When she finished, she dragged her wet sleeve across her mouth, removing any slithers of vomit.

Disoriented and dazed, she stumbled off into the woods with no situational awareness.

As Erin ventured deeper into the dark forest, swirls of creamy mist steamed in their own malice. A fog descended, vaporous veils to sheathe the woods.

Its phantasmal limbs crept with ominous intent, as if it was alive and was watching her.

Erin didn’t know what to do, to call out or to keep going. But go where, when she didn’t even know where she was?

Accursed sounds lacerated the night sky, and strange shapes entered the realm of the forest. Creaking trees became wailing banshees and screeching ghouls spilled out of the windy bottles.

And yet the air was hot, hot like the devil’s breaths. Phantom-eyed owls hooted and haunted the night, ghosting through moon-stained trees.

A branch snapped. It brought Erin to a jarring standstill.

She spun around, tears welling in her eyes. Terror sent a shudder down her spine as she watched shadows fluttering around her.

From the cloud of fog, figures congealed into four-legged forms.

A creature of lithe and sinew skulked out with black scales for skin—each of them rippled in endless rows, flaring like a multitude of miniature nostrils.

It made a hissing sound like a quiver of cobras. The sound tore through its viper-like fangs, thin and sharp like needles, but much longer.

The creature pawed the ground, summoning more of them.

Erin fumbled backward, silent tears pouring from her eyes, for even she knew that it was a race she would not possibly win.

She went cold, dread icing her insides to subzero. If she even thought of turning her back to run, she knew death would launch its talons into her rear.

Erin eased back carefully, fear racking her frame with tremors.

The rest of the pack assembled themselves into an arc formation, prowling toward their prey.

~“Baruch atah Adonai, rofeh hacholim,”~ Erin said, fear rattling her words—if they were her last, they would be a prayer to her God, the God who saves. “You are ~malach sheli~.”

The arc of predators froze. Their demon-black eyes flew up, their gaze filling with fear.

Something much more terrifying was behind her.

Now it was the otherworldly creatures that eased back, afraid. They turned back, racing into the cover of the spectral fog.

Insurmountable dread flooded her system in a heartbeat, new tears falling as she revolved at a painfully gradual pace to see what was behind her.

A mask of red and white flashed in her face.

She let out a skull-rattling screech and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

***

Consciousness leaked in like water dripping from the tip of a leaf.

Erin was embraced in warmth and nestled in comfort, thinking she was in her bed.

Until she remembered that she never made it home.

Erin shot up to see herself cocooned in the middle of a gigantic nest. The intricacy of its weaving was like it was woven by a human hand, a round nest made of various elements: straw, a type of long grass, and feathers.

She went to the rounded border and peered over the edge.

Something was around that tree over there, straight ahead.

“Hello?”

Erin saw movement, but whoever they were, they refused to show themselves.

“I’m sorry if I scared you when I screamed. I was just…scared.”

Erin stood up and hobbled out of the nest, weak-kneed. She went over with curious caution to thank the timid individual that saved her. And then she slowed to a stop when she felt she was close enough.

“I don’t know if this is real or in my head, but I’m…confused. I was in the river…Now I’m here. Can you tell me where ‘here’ is? Please?”

A waterfall of shadows poured out in front of her. It rose to tower over her, robes of shadows wrapped around it like fluttering raven wings, coalescing into a limbless form.

The head twisted on, screwing on top like a lid, and stopped when it faced her with a red and white mask on.

The mask was designed with elaborate markings like war paint, using red and black on the white canvas of the mask that outlined the features of a face.

A band of black was painted over its soulless eyes, edged with red streaks.

It would not kill her. If it wanted to it would have or it would have allowed her to be a new chew toy for those creatures. However, not only did it spare her, but it saved her.

She couldn’t fathom that—any of what was happening. A nightmare and a horror film manifesting into existence.

“What are you?”

The shadow creature stared at her hollowly. Nothing behind those drawn eyes.

“Can you understand me?”

The creature lowered its neck, extending it as far as it needed to so it could look upon her.

Erin didn’t move. She couldn’t have even if she wanted to.

From its flank, wisps of shadows elongated from the creature’s amorphous body, forming into an arm and then a skeletal hand. And it reached for her, coagulating into something palpable as it rested its hand on her chest.

Her mind exploded with the burst of brain activity, a cerebral expansion into something no science could explain.

This was how it communicated. It translated and transmitted everything without sound or needing to touch—touching established the first connection.

It could transmit or receive feeling, perception, passion, affliction, and experience without using any known human sensory channels or physical interaction.

The electrical nature of its form of communication was synaptic transmission.

She couldn’t explain how. But she knew that it was not a danger.

“You’re a Sporkah,” she murmured, not understanding what that was.

The shadow creature retreated from her, vacuuming its arm back to the black void that was its body.

A phenomenal comprehension dawned on her, though she could not understand it, like an ancient language she could see but not read. It wasn’t words. She could understand it through a feeling like translating gut instinct.

“What is this place?”

It answered through their bond, a new cerebral channel opened in her mind.

“Home?” she echoed. “For you, but what is this place? What’s it called?”

The creature answered and slinked around, teleporting to one tree, then to another.

“Umbrafall,” she whispered the name. “And these parts are just part of the Black Glade? So there is more of this place…this world?”

The creature concurred.

“Am I the first…human here that you’ve seen?”

The creature motioned a yes.

“How? Other people have swum in the river before. How come I came through?”

The creature didn’t answer her. Not because it didn’t know. But it couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

“How do I get home?”

The creature refused to respond. He didn’t want to tell her because then she would never come back.

“What if…what if I promise to come back? I have to go back. My mom is probably so worried right now and I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I promise…I’ll come back.”

The creature refused again, not believing she would keep to her promise.

“I swear!”

The creature refused once more. It needed assurance for her claim.

Erin thought hard. An idea clicked. She pulled at the material of her jacket. “This is my aba’s jacket. This is the last thing he bought for me before he passed away. It’s very special to me.”

She unzipped the turquoise jacket and offered the Sporkah her most treasured possession.

And it knew that it was precious to her, adding value to her promise tenfold.

The creature took it. A plume of darkness covered her hands, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Its shadows disappeared like smoke passing through her fingers. Erin looked at her empty hands.

“Can you take me back home now?”

The Sporkah sent its instruction to her, equivalent to a subliminal thought, not a voice. And he told her to follow.

And she did, watching its form ball into the shape of a comet, shooting out into the woods, twirling around trees, leaving a trail of black essence in its wake.

“So what is this place?”

Umbrafall was a nether region, a world between worlds, the bridge between dimensions, but the Sporkah was trapped in the Black Glade.

His power was bound to the rift that marred the dark woods. But now that Erin had unknowingly cracked that seal, he leaked into her world, its power seeping into her forest.

The Sporkah returned her to the primeval bastion; the portal between this world and hers.

“So all I have to do is jump back in the water?”

The answer was a yes.

“Hey, I didn’t get your name?”

It would not tell her its name. Not yet.

“Okay, then I’ll give you a name.” Erin’s mind winnowed through ideas. “How about…Raven?”

It sprouted into its full form and height, tilting its masked face to the side.

“Too girly? Are you even a boy or a man, I mean?”

Its head remained in a confused slant.

“Never mind. What about Tzelem? In my language, it means shadow.”

Erin could feel its contentment.

“Okay…I’ll see you soon.”

Tzelem dissolved into the gloom, going back up the stone-cladded passageway to return to the corridor.

Erin walked back into the sumptuous chamber with the iridescent pool that extended from corner to corner in a curved shape. She went up to the ledge and moved to stand on top.

Erin crossed her arms on her chest and dropped into the water like a pin. And it was like the waters itself rotated her around to face the opposite end, which was now up.

And she swam to the top, fluttering her legs until she broke the surface, reaching the flank of the river right below Table Bridge.

She hauled herself out of the calm waters and scrambled up to her feet.

When she fell into the water, it had been afternoon, and now it was dusk.

Erin hobbled over to the pathway, muddy from the recent rain. Dying light filtered through the lattice of leaves.

It was getting dark, but even if it had been midday Erin would still be lost. She made her way back down, not knowing which route would lead her home or on the side of some street.

But now that the rift was cracked, the crevice already began fracturing, allowing it a gap. And Erin saw the signs. Mists of darkness whirled in the air before shaping into a common raven bird.

Erin smiled. The raven swerved between the trees, guiding her out of the woods until she peeled out of the forest, her home straight across.

But she restrained herself. How would she explain her absence? And that she was drenched in the middle of winter, her jacket missing with nothing but her long-sleeved top on.

She didn’t know what she was going to say, but it wasn’t going to be the truth. Without any further deliberation, Erin ran to her front door, left unlocked. She barged inside, pushing it closed behind her.

“Erin, that you?” her ima asked from the kitchen.

She followed her voice, tracking in water and dirt with every step.

“Mom, I’m so sorry—”

“Erin, what on earth?” she shrieked, wiping her pampered hands down on the apron tied around her waist. “Leonard, fetch a towel for me, please!”

Erin hugged herself, her wet body wrapped in an icy blanket, the chill sinking its teeth into her skin.

“Erin, what happened?”

“It was an accident…I fell.”

“And Opal’s mom just let you leave and drove you all the way here with you dripping wet?”

A frown puckered Erin’s forehead. “…Opal’s mom?”

Leonard entered the kitchen, handing the towel to her mom, who swathed it around her shoulders.

“Clearly you had too much fun at Opal’s house, didn’t you, Erin?” Leonard said, his eyes burning with a warning.

“Told your mom you begged me to drop you off at Opal’s for the afternoon. Since it was a Friday, I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

That was the first time ever that Erin was grateful for his lecherous lies.

“Yep,” Erin chirped in a high-pitched voice. “We had a good time together. Opal and I were messing around and I slipped in their pool. Mrs. Chiang, she—uh—she had an emergency. That’s why she just rushed me over here.”

“So urgent she couldn’t grab a damn towel if not some spare clothes?” Katherine shot for her phone. “Oh, she’s going to hear it from me.”

Leonard seized her and snatched the phone from her hand.

“No, baby. You don’t want to go starting something from nothing. Something really bad must have happened. Daiyu is a lot of things, but she isn’t careless, especially when it comes to children.”

Reason diluted Katherine’s rage. She knew Daiyu would never be that reckless.

“Fine, but that’s the last time you’re ever going over there. I will not let anyone put some crisis above the wellbeing of my daughter.”

“But ima, it wasn’t like that!”

“Erin, get upstairs and take a bath right now before you catch a fever.”