THE DUSK SINGULARITY

CHRIS LEDOUX

Contents

Title Page

BURN

THE NETHER POD

NEMSTAR

NEMAR QUEEN I

NOTHING

NEVER FROM TERRA

NEMESIS

NETHERVOID

NEXT TO ME

NEVER

NARCISS

NARISTA DAUGHTER

NAZE

NINTY-NINE

NICKS

NITETIDE

NEITHER EITHER

NEITHER

NEEDWANT

NAYA

NETHER KNOWING

NIKAIA

NUDGE

NONSTOP

NETTLE

NEAR AND BEYOND

NEST

NIMOCITY

NULLIFY

NOW

NEMAR PARALLAX

NARISTA DAWNING

DAZE

BASALT

BAER NETHER

BOGUS

BACK TO SCHOOL

BYGONE

BLATANT

BIO

BAGGAGE

BRAIN GAMES

BRAVE SISTER

BEGUILE

BESMIRCH

BREED

BLACKLIGHT

BLACKSHIELD

BLOOD

BEYOND NXS

BLEAK

BREAKFAST

BURGER BAR

BACK TO EARTH

BREACH

BUT FOR NOVA

BOSS

BOTTOM OUT

BLIZZARD

BIZZARE

BUYING TIME

EVOLVE

SUBTERRANEAN ELEMENTAL

SAIL

SALT

SAND

SHORE

SINGULAR ILLUSION

STREAKS

STRIKE

SOLID

SOLITAIRE TERRA

SWOOSH

STANDBY

SEAFIRE

STEAM

SMOKE

SLIPSTREAM THEORY

SOLERIA

SISTER

SHUI

SECRET FIRE

SUCK IT

SHIP OUT

SUPER CALDERA

SMOG

SOUR

SUCKED

SHIMMER

SOURCE

SEIZE

SHIP

SOFTWARE

SHOCK WAVE

SINGULARITY

SOJORN

SHOT HEARD ’ROUND THE GALAXY

SEPARATIONS

SLIPSTREAM

Copyright © 2022 Chris Ledoux

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 9798510700787

Baer Solstice Creative, LLC, Portsmouth, NH

Unlock more content at www.theburntsunset.com

Acknowledgments: Celeste, Zacharie, Aurelie, and Ranger

Dedication: For SD

BURN

THE NETHER POD

S07Y 087D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“I don’t want to be your shadow.”

My slumber is disturbed. I awake, with eyes still closed, on the leading edge of dark star Nemesis’s collapse, suspended at the bottom of a lightless vortex in space, a black hole.

Trapped in the Nether pod, my mind has reached across this system, calling technology forward to sustain me in space, building my ship—the Dusk Singularity—around me. Like a halo, three disks surround the Nether pod to make my ship.

When threatened, an elemental pod will return to the star aligned with the enclosure’s solitaire. It was my Nemstar that brought me here. But it was my sister, Solstice, who refused to honor my wishes, unwilling to let me die. Because of her I have suffered. Twenty-eight decades of torment at the hands of Pyrellax clouds my mind, filling it with desperate screams.

I didn’t want to be anyone’s shadow.

I only wanted peace. I only wanted to die.

But I had to live with pieces of my body cut off or scratched day after day, year after year. My longest stretch was fifty years. That near eternal damnation was equally matched, I am sure, by Solstice’s bliss. She even had twin daughters named after our mothers with an old flame from grade school.

While she played mother, I suffered.

And that was just one of the times—just one of the lives—I remembered.

Solstice and I said good-bye years ago in Austin, overlooking the Gulf. I gave her my memories and, I thought, my gifts, choosing to leave this world. It should have worked. But she put me in the Nether pod—in a coffin—and set my gem into place. She sent me out to sea and thereby on this path of torment.

Solstice had to know it would sustain me. Maybe she thought it would heal me. But it wasn’t what I asked for.

So I don’t accept it. She doesn’t get to choose for me.

I will not be the ugly raven-haired stepsister, jealous of my blonde sibling. This is not Ella’s story. I’m not here to take her place, to usurp what she has, quite the opposite. I’ve repeatedly asked to be left alone.

This isn’t a fairy tale. Not for me. First of all because everyone knows I’m really a blonde. All Nemar dye their hair black. In my case, I do it with my illusion power. Second of all, we aren’t even really sisters. Our mothers were sisters. There are no siblings in the world of the Soleria and Nemar. Sister means lover. Soleria and Nemar are self-pollinators and only ever have one heir.

So to be clear, Solstice and I aren’t sisters, step or otherwise.

I open my eyes.

Yep. My hair is black.

I’m standing up in the Nether pod. Except there is no up in space. The pod looks like the inside of a translucent bean. Black veins run from cables in the back of the pod toward the front of the pod, terminating just below my face at the Nemar solitaire. The gem glows purple, lighting up my surroundings.

Cables also lead from the back of the pod, following metal tubing that radiates from the sides of the pod toward a series of rings built up around me. Like Naturn, the home planet of the Nemar in this system, seven rings surround me. The first four rings don’t even count, because there isn’t much mass to them. They form a sphere around the pod like four interlocked hula hoops. The three outer rings contain most of the mass. But each ring is relatively flat compared to, say, space itself, like planetary rings are. If Naturn were a basketball, then its rings would be like one of those super-thin flat Frisbees. My younger brother had one growing up on the farm in Aurora, Colorado.

The name comes back from a distant memory. 

An Aerobie flying disc.

Pro.

It was a pro, and that was important to my littlest brother. It’s been so long since I thought about him, he no longer has a face in my memories. 0ur parting in Aurora—my hometown—was hundreds of years ago when our family farm was attacked. Like Solstice, I have lived for centuries.

But for the universe, it’s been like three months since I was supposed to die.

I don’t know how the universe knows the other slipstreams weren’t real.

She just does.

I know because I remember every life.

This is what drove my mother crazy.

You can’t skip through time, reliving lives or, in both my and my mother’s case, the torture at Pyrellax’s hands.

Do crazy people know they are crazy or are going crazy?

No, because I bet crazy people don’t use the word crazy.

I hear a voice in my thoughts, probing.

It’s the Freak. But once I feel her, I block her.

We’re both telepaths, as are all in the royal houses of the Nemar and Soleria.

Damaged.

That’s the only word I let in from my sister.

But I know what she means. She’s talking about labels from middle school. She was a freak. Or they called her Freak. I don’t remember. I don’t care. How hard can the beautiful blonde bikini-underwear model have had it, really?

I look at the tattoos on my arms and find the seven of names—the number seven made from the names of my four siblings, my parents, and me. I never say any of the names except my mother.

Nemesis.

Nemesis, named for the dark star whose collapsed leading edge I orbit around, married Solstice’s mother long ago on the Soleria Solidarity.

That ship was made up of silver and gold energy shielding. Like the Solarity Solstice coated her ship with, a Solidarity doesn’t really have mass. But pure energy can be made to look like mass. It can even have the feel of mass, like Corona or the outer shielding on the Rising Sun. There’s probably an equation for that, something to do with lightspeed.

But my ship—the Dusk Singularity—is that and more. I am surrounded in a succession by three disks built up by Ferocity, Soleria, and Aether technology beyond the inner sphere—the core—that is made up of the four interlocked rings. I’ve seen the Sun Clan’s and Fire Clan’s ships up close, so I recognize the shiny metal and the brown iron. I’ve never seen an Eartarin ship, and I know the Airan and Wydran do not have space vehicles. My clan, the Nether, are a dead people and have no ships either. It’s a guess, but the technology I do not recognize I assume to be Aethan.

I’ve been in a trance while my body healed.

So I don’t really know how this technology built up.

But I’ve been repeating the same words, “I don’t want to be your shadow,” endlessly.

My ship is more than just a disk.

The Dusk Singularity is an antenna, and I am the battery.

But my location is less than ideal.

Rotating around the leading edge of a collapsing star is not exactly safe. Ironic. As Nemesis dies, I am reborn.

I don’t remember having any sort of technological gifts.

I have the Nether, the blacklight, telepathy, the illusion, and the shadow. And at one point, I could see the future that was not to be.

Is telepathy how I called these ships to me, so that I could build this from their destruction?

A shadow surrounds me, blocking out nearly all light except the blacklight Nemstar gem. Nemesis is black with a purple hue, and to that I add my own casting. As large as Sol, when you are this close to Nemesis, it’s impossible to see other lights in space. Like my blonde black-dyed hair, I overlay the shadow, stopping all sources of light except one.

Around my neck hangs a purple solitaire.

Could it be the hope of light from the Nemstar in all this dark that brings other ships here?

The illusion likely draws in victims as well.

Thoughts slam through my head, disjointed and incoherent, coming alive, storming my brain while I search for answers.

I continue to think of my gifts, wondering which one created the Dusk Singularity.

The Nether.

It must be the Nether.

When I touch another being and release that power, they are overcome with despair. Like a virus, it colors their veins black, similar to the markings that line my pod.

Below my tattoos on each arm, my hands are stained black as I release my gifts of shadow and despair.

How did technology get built up around the Nether pod? Like trash in the sea or planets forming in space. They were drawn together, but it’s the Nether that controls them.

I’m pulling ships in like a siren with no song because there can never be a song in the singularity.

Or am I here at the moment of the dark star Nemesis’s collapse? Is this real? I wanted to die in the coffin of a pod. Is it too much to hope for not to live? Or is that just part of the illusion? Does any of it matter if I can make her pay?

Crashing ships were wrecked upon the shore of the Dusk Singularity, adding to it, becoming part of it.

But I’m still waiting for one more vessel to answer the call.

I’ve let the other victims escape as long as they abandon ship. I don’t need all life. Just one life, maybe two.

Except for the Ferocity. I find no shame destroying them, taking joy in their deaths. Death to all Ferocity because deep down I know it started with them and not my sister. But it is by her choices I am bound.

So there is one I will not let escape.

Already she is near.

A yellow light shines in the darkness of space, rivaling the shadow I cast. I call to it, infecting it with my Nether sickness.

I release my hold on the event horizon, the leading edge of the dark star’s collapse. The Dusk Singularity falls down into the vortex of the dying star, sucked in by the gravity hole.

My sister will have to contend with me where I am strongest.

In the shadow, neither flame nor sun can shine.

I am a siren without song, drawing victims into the void.

I am Narista, daughter of Nemesis.

And I am the Dark Queen of the Dusk Singularity.

Into the core of dark star Nemesis, I drag thee.

Wait. What? Did I just think thee?

NEMSTAR

S07Y 088D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

The Rising Sun is within my grasp. That’s what my sister calls her ship. Like mine, it’s a hybrid of technology. Makes sense. Terra had no long-duration spaceships designed for human survival at the time it was destroyed by the Ferocity. Otherwise, I imagine the Terrans would have tried to repel the Firegale and later invasion.

I lean forward and touch the Nemstar. It is on the outside of the Nether pod, but also on the inside. The solitaire is held in place around the edges. I release purple light through the gem, flooding the viewport of the approaching ship.

Like a long-lost gemstone, the Dusk Singularity shines from the bottom of a drain, calling the light toward it.

I probe Solstice’s thoughts.

She would rather die in Baer’s arms.

I won’t allow it.

Baer?

I see his mind and two others.

My love Eos is dead.

Solstice’s love is reborn.

I won’t hold that against her. I’ll hold it against him.

I cast a shadow upon the Rising Sun. But Solstice counters with light.

I’m tired of being your shadow.

The entire cockpit of the Rising Sun is bathed in purple light. Even for my sister, it’s blinding.

On board, she joins hands with Baer and another.

The blacklight and sunrays swirl, forming the blackshine—silver-purple light.

Light radiates from Solstice’s body in all directions.

My grip on them slips. The Nether reverses course, retreating from Solstice’s body, then Baer’s, and finally Hali’s—that’s the Wydran—into my body. My fingertips turn white, pushing away the blackness of the Nether.

The blackshine plasma surrounds Solstice, Baer, and the Wydran in the Rising Sun. But it does not burn. It restores them, fighting off the Nether.

Slowly, the letters fill in the puzzle stuck unsolved in their minds, forming words, solving the mystery for them.

Solstice’s mind touches mine while we battle. Dark versus light.

She can’t understand my thoughts.

Why would I not want to live?

Because death calls to me.

I can hear their voices. Can’t you? So many are stuck in this plane, unable to move on because of what you did to them. Why don’t the tormented souls haunt you? Is it that you can’t hear, or is it that you refuse to listen?

Thoughts like that must not even compute in a mind full of sunshine.

Even my words aren’t registering in her brain. She calls it a puzzle, a game. It is neither, it is a warning.

I repeat what I’ve said over and over since I got here.

Then I listen to the syllables in Solstice’s brain, filtered through her understanding. She’s right. I’m not making a lot of sense.

I’m TIm-hD Om Bm-Imm hOmm Smm-DOm.

I’m TIm-hD Om Bm-Imm hOUm Smm-DOm.

The tone pitches vary within the signal coming from the Dusk Singularity.

But she can’t get off that easy.

Static interferes with my message.

I’m glitching. I am a glitch.

The hums emitting from my ship get louder and then quieter, interspersed with fuzz.

It sounds like a glitch.

It sounds like I’m glitching.

I repeat the signal, trying to say words.

I’m TIm-hD Om Bm-Imm YOUm Smm-DOm.

I’m TIm-hD Om Bm-Imm YOUm Smm-DOm.

“R,” Baer yells.

I can’t tell if he’s in agony—Argh!—or shouting out consonants.

I’m TIR-hD Om Bm-Imm YOUR Smm-DOm.

My thoughts are one with my sister’s for a second.

“I’d like to solve the puzzle, Baer,” Solstice says.

“I’m tired of being your shadow,” I say at the same time as she.

My voice fills the Rising Sun, coming from nowhere and from everywhere, booming.

We need you, sister! Solstice pleads, passing me a thought. I know you’ve told me this. I’m tired of being your shadow. I should have guessed that. You’ve only told me like a thousand times. We need you. We can’t defeat billions of Ferocity without the strongest Nemar ever. Look what you’ve done to me, Baer, and Hali, and imagine what we can do together to the Ferocity.

The Rising Sun drifts closer toward the purple corona of Nemesis. The vortex beyond the event horizon nearly has them.

There’s no avoiding me now. They are trapped on the leading edge of the black hole. Nemesis is a singularity with a single purpose.

Swallow the light.

Swallow her.

Put an end to the eternal sunshine that is Solstice.

NEMAR QUEEN I

S07Y 089D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

The Queen of the Galaxy is dead.

Solstice is surprised by that thought.

I don’t think she even knows it’s not her thought.

There was only ever one Queen, one Princess, one Duchess, one Emperor, and a Prime Aether, and whatever the chief Wydran and Airan was called. It says something about the arrogance of the Soleria and the respect still given to them by the other six clans that only their clan had two titles—princess and queen.

But so much has changed since Solstice was last near Nemesis. Not only is the queen dead, the star has opened in on itself, leading a way to its core.

My sister’s arrogance knows no limit. She figures as the last ruler of Terra and the heir to the Soleria, the job of Queen is hers for the taking.

I enter her mind to tell her how it shall be.

She tells me she loves me, but I push her back, using my mind as a weapon to hurt her. I combine all the pain and suffering I felt in her shadow, under Nadir’s blade, and at the hands of Pyrellax.

Solstice cries to Baer, feeling the weight of agony like a thousand migraines slamming into her brain at once. I can taste the blood dripping from her eyes. My pod fills with the scent of metal and salt. The taste of blood and tears mixed.

You refused that title, I say. Solterra of the Soleria—the one who was here before—said another would follow in her wake and that she would not take it.

I extend my arms, pressing them against the inside of the Nether pod. The Dusk Singularity—my ship at the center of the collapsing black hole—pulls Solstice’s ship—the Rising Sun—closer.

No longer a bright dot, her ship appears as big as a dime against the blackness on the other side of Nemesis’s purple wave.

The Rising Sun shakes, rattling forward.

Despite counter maneuvers, the Rising Sun cannot change course. Unable to hold position, it’s pulled toward the center, closer to me.

Over the edge of the event horizon—the disk of purple light—their ship crests at the top edge of the swirling black vortex.

No longer shall the Soleria retain that title, I scream. For I claim it!

Solstice makes a joke in her mind about being stuck with the title Princess. I send another wave of pain her way, making sure I have her attention.

The Rising Sun passes through the purple wave and enters darkness.

At the center of where Nemesis should be, a single purple light shines from the Nemstar.

Time slows as the Rising Sun is suspended on the edge of the vortex.

The universe outside the black hole continues to age while we are stuck in slow motion.

Light bends on the edge of where the dark star should be.

It’s like looking down a drain when you’ve lost a diamond from your engagement ring.

Beyond the edge, into the drain, there is only darkness except for that of a single light—the solitaire—waiting to fall farther in the second you reach for it.

Slowly, their ship drifts toward my blacklight.

The Rising Sun is size of a yacht and the Dusk Singularity is the size of an aircraft carrier, but circular. My sister recognizes Ferocity iron and Soleria silvolden imbedded around my pod. Her thoughts betray her. When she realizes the Dusk Singularity was born from the destruction of other ships, including the Solidarity, the Soleria mothership, she wonders, Did I do all this? Are those deaths on me? Does it matter?

Does life matter beyond my clan?

What does it say that of the first and seventh clans, Sun and Nether, that only one person remains from each?

And people say there can only be one Prime Aether. While true, there are plenty of Aether. In fact, they live unharassed by the other clans. Everybody loves an Aether. They party. They play their games. They mate. A lot. Everybody loves them. Everybody loves Baer.

Not anymore. Not here.

I make contact with their ship, overlaying my thoughts through its circuitry, listening to the crew.

“Can we dock with it?” Baer asks.

“Why would you want to?” Hali counters.

“We need her,” Solstice says. “We need her will. Without her, the Ferocity will conquer the seven systems. Already the Sol, Nemar, and Eartarin systems have fallen to them.”

“I think she finished off the Soleria and Nemar,” Hali says.

“We don’t know that!” Solstice snaps. “For all we know, the Ferocity attacked the Solidarity and the last of the Nemar on Naturn.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Baer says.

The Rising Sun is far larger from my perspective on the other side of my pod, getting closer.

“I don’t think we could escape the pull of that,” Baer says.

“You know I love you,” he adds.

That I cannot have. She doesn’t get to love or be loved. Not while my Eos is gone. Doesn’t she know there is no word for boyfriend in Soleria. Lover means sister and sister means lover.

There are no boys in the Soleria. Does she think she gets to turn her back on thousands of years of tradition? Nemar can do that. We’re the rebels. But not Soleria.

I release my pain—Nether in the form of a thought—at Baer and Hali. It’s a lot like getting your brain slapped. I discharge a thousand thoughts at once, most of them screams. In a person’s brain, loudness translates to pain. In an instant I can no longer hear their minds, and I know I’ve knocked them out. Only Solstice remains.

I take control of the Rising Sun, spreading my Nether virus. Instead of a black shadow infecting the veins of a person, I imagine bits and bytes, ones and zeros, getting them to all march in my direction.

Another presence fights me for control. Sentient, it is the first ship that has fought me off.

Soleria.

Figures. Leave it to the Soleria to invent artificial life.

I touch the other’s fake mind. It even has a name.

Corona.

She will die too.

The Rising Sun nears. In minutes, it grows from a dime to a pencil, than a car, and before long it’s been completely swallowed by the singularity. No longer in perspective, it appears life-size.

In my mind, I rip Corona apart, tearing pieces from the energy shield that makes up her body.

When I feel Corona weakening, I turn to the others.

I unlock the seatbelt clasp that holds the straps in the center of Baer’s and Hali’s harnesses, releasing them.

The interior of the Rising Sun glows pink and then blue. For a moment, the colors flash, but then they combine, forming purple, when I take full control of their ship.

Baer and Hali groan.

The Nether has its grips in them again, turning their skin black.

“Let them go!” Solstice yells at the viewport.

I pull their ship closer, eliminating the space that separates us, and I force the Rising Sun to dock with the Dusk Singularity.

My sister’s ship is inverted and mates with mine, nose down.

It’s like two ships having sex, with theirs as the boy. Hali and Baer slip from their harnesses to the floor, falling in the aisle. They roll across the floor to the dashboard. Through their viewport, I can see them suffer.

But Solstice rides the inversion, holding her straps to her chest, remaining in her seat until she can exit under her own control.

She places her feet ninety degrees to her chest and slips out of her harness. Stepping from the cylinder between the two pilot seats, she leans into the dash across from me.

Standing between the steering columns, she presses her face against the viewport.

From the Dusk Singularity, hoses, lines, cables, arms, and gears come alive, pulling the Rising Sun closer and integrating it with my ship, just like all my other victims.

The joining of these two vessels feels like a violation, like a phallic symbol forcing its way into my body—my ship.

The blonde in the viewport across from my pod screams my name. Like me, she hasn’t aged a day on the outside since her sixteen birthday.

The Nemstar glows outside the Nether pod, calling to its twin, the Solstar, as it lights up on the chain around Solstice’s neck.

She presses her hands to the viewport, calling my name.

“Narista. Narista, it’s me, Solstice.”

The Dusk Singularity lights up, emitting purple blacklight. It’s nearly blinding.

Solstice blinks, adjusting to the glare.

“I am the Dark Queen.”

“Narista, remember,” she says. “It’s Solstice.”

“I’m tired of being your shadow,” I say. “I have sent that message far and wide, building all this to broadcast it.”

“I’m the one who can answer it,” she says. “I can remind you of who you once were.” She points to her head.

“Are you the sun?” I ask, pressing my face against the inside of the Nether pod. “Can you answer the question of how light cannot exist without the dark? Is that why you need the shadow so?”

“I need you, Narista, and I will tell you all that you want to know.” She looks at Baer and Hali, suffering. “After you release them.”

“Why don’t I want to be your shadow?” I ask. I know why, but this can never be over between us until she knows to.

She places her left hand on the viewport. “I will tell you why, sister.”

I raise my right hand inside the pod, mirroring hers. But her thoughts betray her.

I don’t have a good answer for why she was driven to madness like her mother, Nemesis, named for the dark star that looms behind the Dusk Singularity like a black hole.

I actually have a good answer for why she was tormented, for why she snapped, for why her brain is broken.

Narista told me that she couldn’t live with the memory that Pyrellax tormented her for centuries in the slipstream.

And I couldn’t let her die, even if that’s what she wanted.

“Come with me, sister,” she says, ignoring her own thoughts.

“I’ll take those gifts now,” I say. “Telepathy and Nether are not enough.”

Few matched the confluence of gifts Solstice was blessed with: sunray fingertips and bioluminescent hair and eyes, telepathy, EMP, and the solarplosion. She once was also a dreamvision seer and a catalyst.

Between the Rising Sun and the Dusk Singularity, powers pass like thoughts. And where our hands nearly touched, I reclaim them. Freely given to her, she returns them when my mind asks for them. Added to the Nether and telepathy, I take back the inking, the shadow, the blacklight. I never truly lost those powers, but Solstice cannot keep them either. I cannot allow her to possess my gifts where she is going.

I pause for a moment, learning some of the shared history of the clans from the imprint of Solterra.

“In this endless cycle of war, is it Pyrellax or you, sister,” I ask, “that is the barrier to my peace?”

Solstice pauses, unable to answer me, so I cut her off. “It seems that in order to be free, I must rid the universe of the problem of you.”

The Nemstar glows brighter, and I release blacklight from my body, lighting up the Dusk Singularity and attacking the Rising Sun.

Her ship goes dark, erasing the purple glow.

The Sun solitaire lights up like her hair and eyes, countering me, shedding light toward my ship. But the light bends, caught between the curvature of the Rising Sun’s viewport and the outside of the Nether pod, the two vessels and the cables and hoses that connect them.

Solstice is nothing in my sea of darkness. I let my shadow spread, enveloping her ship.

“I will no longer be your shadow,” I scream. I will not walk behind your light.

The Nemstar glows brighter with purple blacklight on the outside of the Nether pod, and for a moment it rivals the yellow light from her solitaire.

But the Solstar counters, having to always be the brightest light.

If the light won’t die, then no other shall see it. I will not be lost in its shadow.

The Dusk Singularity grows around me, morphing to trap the Rising Sun. Cables, cords, gears, silvolden, and Ferocity iron surround Solstice’s ship, enclosing it.

For a minute, we connect, eyes locked. Sister to sister. She calls to me again—Narista—but there is nothing Solstice can do to prevent the dusk. Her sun sets, ushering in the coming night.

NOTHING

S07Y 090D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I release the Nether. Solstice can no longer fight me.

Caught in a black void of despair, there is no song nor any light left in her, and the Solstar stops shining. She is at the source of my power and no match for me. She falls back from the dashboard, away from the viewport, landing between Baer and Hali.

She touches the watch on her wrist, projecting a thought as she says it. “Peanuts.”

What? Why?

It doesn’t matter. She must suffer now like me.

I open a portal in the viewport as I take control of her ship, a portal that leads from her ship into a void.

Solstice falls into the cylinder between the pilot chairs. She grips its edge with her hands while her feet dangle over the new hole.

Anything not tied down flies toward the opening.

A hologram shimmers before Solstice. Light flickers around the translucent holographic body.

“The only way to get out is to go in,” Solstice says.

My sister is that arrogant, convinced she can beat me. Or, as she would say, save me.

Baer opens his eyes. “You’re not alone,” he says, reaching toward Solstice, grabbing her hand just as it slips off the cylinder.

“Would you?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says, tightening his grip on her with his left hand. “Every time, even those times when you wouldn’t ask me to.”

“Save Hali, Corona. It’s me Narista wants,” Solstice says.

Baer looks at the others.

The holographic image shifts over the Wydran. It solidifies despite the chunks of it that are missing. It’s a girl who looks like me and Solstice. Her left eye is gone, like her right arm. She grabs onto the Wydran wedged between the captain’s seat and the dash.

Air rushes out of the Rising Sun toward my ship.

“When we’re gone, plug the hole,” Solstice says. “Leave if you can and wait for us beyond the system. Make for Saturn if you can.”

“Understood,” the holograph replies.

Baer can’t hold onto the cylinder for much longer, not and keep his grip on Solstice. He’ll have to choose between a fate unknown with her or remaining behind while I take her.

Solstice looks down into the portal, expecting to see me or my ship on the other side. But she won’t have it that easy. Instead, she sees nothing except the void.

“It’s okay, Baer,” she says. “It’s the only way we can save Narista.”

“There’s no song in there,” he says. “No light.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “Let go.”

Baer releases his grip on the cylinder, and they fall, hand in hand, into the void. Behind them, debris flies in from the Rising Sun. Most of it is nothing—junk, supsdelite, even some water—but I do recognize a few things. Solstice’s sword, her sling sack, the shards of Striker folded with a splint made by my own Eos, and a mirror. The mirror reminds me of one I once saw on the Soleria Solidarity.

NEVER FROM TERRA

S07Y 091D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I should be dead. That’s what you do. That’s the happy ending. You beat your enemy, then you retire to a little stretch of beach on the shores of Austin on Terra and live out your days. You’re not supposed to be pressed back into service.

Except we didn’t win. Nobody really won the Sixth Seven-Clan Civil War. The solitaires were retained by the Terrans who regrouped in Austin. But Terra and its people were destroyed.

Every clan suffered a defeat except the Soleria.

The Nemar were shelled by the Ferocity, destroying what was left of Naturn—which was just its people, forcing the last of those sisters to delve deeper underground. By the time I landed on the planet in my Nether pod, Nyssa was holding onto their slow decline. And I didn’t stay because Solstice and Pyrellax arrived in the Solarity.

The Ferocity returned to their home system, defeated and leaderless.  

And not one clan held onto their elemental or their solitaire.

The treaty that promised each clan one of each gemstone lasted merely days; Solstice broke it as soon as she could manage it. And days later she flew into Sol, living lives that didn’t really exist. But they exist in her memories and mine.

The last life, though, was happiest and real.

And it began when Solstice left us.

In the beginning on Terra, in Austin, six Elementals remained: Baer, Lani, Jordin, Fusion, Kase, and me. We were joined by the dog, Selene, and six others that survived the war: Kyra, Kaylani, Kason, Eryn, the unknown child, and Eos—my love. Each of the Elementals had picked someone to save. Baer chose his dog, of all things. Kyra was chosen by Solstice, Kason and Eryn by Fusion and Kase, Eos by me, and Kaylani by Lani. Jordin chose to give her pick to Solstice, who chose someone not so lucky in his friends. The unknown child didn’t speak for years in the company of strangers, but Kyra named him Raith.

Robynn came to Austin, with Solstice and Baer, from Aetha Prime. My sister knew Baer’s heart and orchestrated the union between him and her refound best friend.

It was good that Solstice left, because then we had peace.

Baer and Robynn had a daughter named Brynn. Kason and Kaylani were also his children: his son by Kase and his daughter by Jordin.

Like my sister, I am barren, or not of age yet, and I had no children with Eos.

Fusion and Kase had twins, a son Fision and a daughter Fasian, who succumbed to the daze, the last of the Terrans to die from that horrible disease.

Jordin and Lani had no children.

Kyra waited many long years, eventually mating with Fision.

But in the early years, all the Elementals felt the need to give Terra a chance to regrow. And unlike me, none were given near immortality.

With my blessing, Eos had children, a son and a daughter, by Lani and Kase, named Coleos and Kaseos.

Jordin and Fusion had a daughter, Annie.

Years later, Kaylani and Raith had a daughter, Kayhali, also known as Hali. Unlike any other, Hali exhibited all the traits of a Wydran. She was the first of the Terran-born to jump clans, physically looking like a Wydran. She left Terran for Wydro, but was caught by the Ferocity and eventually rescued by Solstice.

Braeger, son of Kason and Brynn, the product of a union of cousins, was born into the Aether Clan. He resembled Baer like no other. He died on Aether Prime, a victim of a Ferocity attack long after the war.

Aerynn, daughter of Eryn and Coleos, was born into the Air Clan, and her whereabouts are unknown. As are Fyra, daughter of Kyra and Fision. But I suspect she ended up in with the Fire Clan. Everet, son of Kaseos and Annie, was of the Earth Clan, and he too has gone missing.

I know the chart my sister would make, for the solitaires, while still sundered, will call to their match.

SolsticeSun ClanYellow SolstarSoleria

BaerAether ClanGray AeliteAether

AerynnAir ClanWhite AirentAiran

EveretEarth ClanGreen EterrEartarin

FyraFire ClanRed FevourFerocity

HaliWater ClanBlue WydrateWydran

NaristaNether ClanPurple NemstarNemar

The air, earth, fire, and water gems are hidden on Terra, of that I am sure. I have seen them in my sister’s mind.

But I am not my sister.

Solstice knew I was the last survivor of Terra. Ever young, when she came back and found me, I still looked sixteen. Baer preceded me, and I buried him in his pod on the bluff alive, an old man. The Aether solitaire and pod restored him to his youth, just as Solstice had hoped.

But it was Eos who was with me nearly to the end while the others abandoned me, died, or were captured on Terra, taken by the Ferocity.

Eos and I pledged our life and love, carved as initials into a downed palm tree on the eve of the final battle with the Ferocity in Key West. Marriage has no meaning now, but each year on that beach at Austin, we repledged our love, writing our initials in the bark of the trees that regrew.

For seventy years we knew happiness, until I sent his body out to sea. He could not bear for me to see him die, nor could he look upon me any longer, looking like his great-granddaughter and not his wife. Age took him, and time showed no mercy.

But I loved him, even when he looked old. His heart remained young nearly to the end, as did our love.

It’s been nearly three months, but Eos could still be at sea, in some cove, or back in Austin, having changed his mind.

Or he is dead.

Eos was never of any clan, not from the seven anyway.

He was Terran through and through, and he never developed gifts. It can only mean one thing.

Something I overlooked in my despair, forgetting bits of what Solstice once told me.

The Eighth Clan was real. And Terra was meant for more.

Someday, an eighth elemental and eighth solitaire would be found.

NEMESIS

S07Y 092D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“Mom!” I yell. “Is there any milk?”

My brothers, and to lesser extent my sisters, are always finishing the milk. I’m always up early, while it’s still dark, and the cows aren’t always my responsibility.

From the porch the covers the entire front side of our house, my mother calls back. “Narista, out front now!”

It’s just milk. Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled. But there’s no need for me to get in trouble. It’s my fault for being stupid. Mom’s been sick all my life. She once marked my arms with a black Sharpie, drawing designs and words I couldn’t understand.

Papa loves her, but I don’t why. It would be far easier without her. It’s a terrible thought to have, but I bet all fourteen-year-old girls fantasize about replacing their mom so they can monopolize their father’s time. People would probably say that’s weird, but it happens to all girls. And the opposite happens with boys and their moms. It’s probably some sick universal way of preparing kids to move on with puberty and into our young adult years.

“Narista!”

I leave the kitchen and run to the porch to find my mother.

She looks worse than usual. Her dark frizzy hair is filled with nettles and meadow grass. She’s been sleeping in the fields again.

Opening her arms, she drops to her knees. I step forward, allowing her to touch me, hug me, even if I don’t want it.

“Let’s get you inside, Mom,” I say. “I’ll draw a bath. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Nemesis paws at my face, pushing aside the single strand of hair that my pigtails don’t tie back. “It’s fine, Mom,” I say. “Let me help.”

Tears drip from her eyes.

I could do it. I can do it. I do do it. I’m happy to take care of her. She wasn’t born this way. Something or someone made her like this. There are rumors in town. I hear the whispers. My father found her in his fields, pregnant and bleeding, and took her in when she was already broken. But Papa is not a saint, nor is he the man who took advantage of the troubled woman at his doorstep. He’s somewhere in between, looked upon with scorn and reverence. He took Nemesis in, but is she aware of that? Does she want this life and this family?

It’s the tears that hurt too much, that are too much.

Mental illness is a burden, and not just for the sick.

“Mom, let me help you.” I tug on her arms but she won’t stand.

She grips my forearms, digging her nails in. “The fires. The fires are already in the fields.”

To the east, the world is ending. But our secluded valley and town remain untouched.

“Men are coming,” she says. “Hide while you can. To the storm shelter.”

I look over her shoulders. There are no flames. No ruffians. My mother is not a sage. It’s the end of the world, but she left it long before this.

“They’re coming!” she says, her voice rising. “They want you. Hide. Use the family I have given you as a shield. Hide!”

“Mom, you’re hurting me,” I plead. “Let go.”

Her eyes open wide and she screams, “This is but a taste of the pain to come!”

NETHERVOID

S07Y 092D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

In the singularity, time has no meaning. Solstice and Baer have been falling for a day, never knowing up or down, left or right, nor finding the bottom. The Nethervoid is despair itself. Carved from the depths of my soul, dark thoughts form there, casting shadows, removing all light. Without light, time has no meaning. Space-time itself, what Solstice calls the slipstream, can be warped by matter and energy, creating curves instead of timelines. At the center of a singularity, where light, matter, and energy collapse on themselves, time is meaningless and immeasurable. Nemesis is a black hole, and at its center, beyond my ship, lies a singularity. Like at the bottom of a funnel, the singularity is a single point where the slipstream bends infinitely. It is a space so small, it cannot be measured. Gravity and density become infinite, as if the entire universe is resting on a single point where the laws of physics no longer exist.

Funny thing is, I never had high school science, let alone studied theoretical physics.

But the Dusk Singularity has accumulated all the knowledge from all the ships that make it up. I suspect this knowledge, my crash course in physics, came from Corona on the Rising Sun.

I look beyond the Nether pod.

Solstice and Baer are still falling into the void, nearly suspended in time, trapped by the pull of the singularity.

I remove the Nemstar from my pod. The pod seals the hole as I place the solitaire into the necklace, a gift from Eos long ago, hanging around my neck.

And then I surprise myself.

I open the Nether pod and I jump, joining Baer and Solstice as the singularity swallows them, closing around them.

NEXT TO ME

S07Y 093D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“Why did you do that?” Baer yells. “We’re trying to save you!”

Together I fall with Solstice and Baer into the void. I honestly don’t know why I would join them.

Next to me, Solstice grabs her sling sack from the void, pulling it over her neck, and then secures her sword to her waist.

Baer reaches for Striker and snaps it open once he has it. The stick opens from four folded pieces into a single long staff.

“Hold on,” he yells.

“Not yet,” Solstice says. She reaches above her head and grabs the Soleria mirror.

Behind us, the portal closes as we reach the singularity. The Dusk Singularity and the Rising Sun are no longer visible, and the only light that shines in the void are the faint glows from our yellow, gray, and purple gems.

I turn away from Solstice’s yellow solitaire. “I’m tired of being in your shadow,” I say.

“I know that, sister,” she says. “But you’re not well. You’re glitching. You’re not yourself.”

“What?” Baer asks. “Who cares? I think the whole falling infinitely into an infinitesimally small space hole is more important.”

“Look into the mirror,” Solstice says.

She doesn’t give me a chance to respond, holding the mirror up to my face as we fall. We’re tumbling, so it’s hard for me to focus, but then I see it.

It’s just me, maybe a tired me, but just me looking back in the mirror. I grab the gem around my neck, clutching the Nemstar.

“What are you doing?” Baer asks.

“It’s like when you remembered yourself,” Solstice says, “like when you came back to me.”

The mirror cracks, shattering, leaving a trail of silvolden glass behind us. But it’s not like pieces of me scatter. I am restored. I remember who I was and what was real, and I know what must be done.

I close my eyes and see the infinity symbol in a vision. It looks like a Ferocity peanut ship, but also something else. Solstice enters my thoughts.

“Turn it with your mind.”

The shape spins ninety degrees.

It’s an eight.

Eight is for Eos.

“Did you know?” I ask her.

“No,” she replies. “Only you could have.”

“But he’s dead,” I sob.

“Is he? Let’s find out together.”

“Grab onto Striker,” I say.

Baer spins his staff, and my sister and I grab hold with both hands on either side of him.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“We’re about to fall,” I say.

“Reality check,” Baer says. “We’ve been falling for forever.”

“We’re about to fall out,” Solstice says, trying to clarify, but that’s not her strong suit.

“We need to find Eos,” I say. “He’s trapped on Terra.”

“No offense,” Baer says, “but isn’t he dead?”

“He’s the eighth,” Solstice says. “The problem of seven is that there is no eight.”

“We need to find him and an eighth solitaire,” I say. “The war will never be over until the new clan is founded.”

“Oh,” Baer says, like he really gets it, but I can tell he doesn’t. “Aren’t we in a black hole? Aren’t we in Nemesis?”

“We’re in the slipstream,” Solstice says. “Except this time, Narista is driving.”

“Oh,” he says.

I smile at Solstice. I will not be in her shadow. This is my story, my mission, and I will be the lead.

She smiles back at me.

Baer looks left at her and then right at me, hanging onto Striker.

“Narista sees what never can be,” Solstice says. “Her visions, her slipstreams, belong to a path I could never take.”

“That clears it up,” Baer says, but he’s lying.

“Except we need to cheat,” Narista says. “Eos needs to come back with us.”

Solstice nods.

“Brace for impact,” I say.

“What?” Baer asks.

“The bottom is near,” Solstice says.

“Can I get a summary?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say. “Go to Terra that never was, find Eos, find the eighth gem, cheat death and all that stuff, jump slipstreams, and then get back to our ships.”

“That’s it?” he asks. “I’m just glad to have you back.” He looks at both of us and smiles.

We all laugh.

Until we hit the bottom.

NEVER

S07Y 095D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“Ugh.”

“Where are we?” Baer asks.

“Nemesis,” I say.

“Black Terra,” Solstice says.

“We’re both right,” I add. “We’re still in the Nemesis System, and yet we are on the Terra that will never be.”

Baer stands up in the dusk. Above us, fire clouds rage in the sky, releasing lightning. “It looks like Never,” he says.

“Exactly,” Solstice and I say.

“Never is Black Terra,” Solstice says.

“Let’s just call it that then,” he says. “So we’re on the third planet of the Nemesis System, where we were when I remembered who I was?”

“Yes,” Solstice says.

“So we slipstreamed?” he asks.

“Yes,” I reply.

“So where’s Eos? Where’s the eighth gem and how do they both get here?”

I stand up next to Baer. We are on a wide, dark land mass in an unknown location on Never. The ground is black but Terran-like. The world is both shadow and flame. The dark star Nemesis emits almost no light, but the fire sky above, remnants of a long-ago Ferocity attack, illuminates the surface like a perpetual dusk.

“The last time we were here,” Solstice says, “we landed the Rising Sun on a beach. We had that cool black sand like they have in Hawaii. Plus nice waves.”

“Of course, you did,” I say, smiling. “It must be universally impossible for you to fall out the sky and not land in a happy spot to find your boyfriend.”

The landscape before us in barren. Solstice probably even had palm trees, fresh water, and food where she landed on Never.

“It was an island getaway,” she says. “We surfed.”

“What never can happen will happen here,” I say. “But that was your never ever. This is my never ever.”

“Okay, but where’s Eos and the gem?” Baer asks. “How did they get here and how do we get back?”

“She put them here,” Solstice says. “It’s a guess, but she wasn’t herself. If I can move objects like the Solarity and people through the slipstream, then so can Narista. Her mother, Nemesis, knew more about it than anyone.”

Baer turns to me. “So where did you put them?”

I shrug.

“We need a guide,” Solstice says.

The wind picks up, lifting black sand. I pull my cloak hood over my face. At my side, Sable—my blade from the last war—is secured to my waist.

“And a little more light,” she adds. She holds up the Solstar, but it has no power. She opens her palms, searching for a sunbeam. “My gifts are gone,” she says.

Of course, they are. This is my never ever.

We are surrounded by a blackened forest of long dead trees sprouting from the black sand. I touch a tree, expecting to feel rough bark, but the surface is smooth and cold.

“Remember,” I say, “we are where the never can happen. Solstice lived through things that were possible. For me it will be the opposite in the slipstream, like my visions.”

“My powers are fine,” Baer says, rotating Striker in front of himself without touching it.

“That’s because you can lose them,” I say. “She can’t.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay.”

Solstice points. “Someone is coming.”

The wind blows harder, and we cover our faces. Sand takes to the air, swirling around us, mixing with the haze. It reminds me of the ash on Naturn, but also the graydimlight after the Firegale took Terra.

If Solstice landed on a beach the last time she was here, then I’ve landed in a desert. They’re surprisingly similar, except she had water and breezes and we have sandstorms.

The approaching stranger is dressed in all black and hooded. A long scarf flaps in front of her face, keeping the desert sand from her mouth.

From the darkness of the dusk, she nears, her shape familiar.

I fall to my knees. I’ve killed many, but one hurts above all others.

Before me stands my best friend from the past—Shade.

NARCISS

S07Y 096D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I can’t dismiss what can’t be true because we are in the slipstream.

“Shade, is that you?” I ask.

In the days leading up to the second fall of Nadir, I was given a choice: kill Shade, Jordin, or Pyrellax. Looking back, it seems like a false choice. Nadir, an ally of Pyrellax, would have never allowed me to kill her. Regardless, I chose to end Shade’s life. I don’t know why I saved Pyre, her name then, but I do know Jordin had moved the pebble that started a trickle that became the flood. Without the Potomac rising, Pent would have never flooded, and the fires and smog of Nadir might still be present in Arnac City.

Shade had to die so that Solstice could shine. Once Pent—where fires sent sun-darkening smoke across all of Arnac City—was put out, the weather started to change. Once the clouds lifted over Arnac City, our powers were restored. We were weaker then and relied on direct sunlight to power our gifts. Now, starlight is enough.

I grip the hilt of Sable, the curved sword hanging from my belt. The very same weapon I used to take Shade’s life.

Solstice walks toward Shade, no doubt hoping to grasp her hand or hug her, to show some sign of thanks in recognition of my friend’s sacrifice. But Shade ignores her.

I drop to my knees. With head bowed, I say, “There are so many things I want to tell you, like how you helped us.”

“But the princess’s plan didn’t work,” Shade interjects. “Terra is lost. It is no more than a brighter version of Never now.”

“That’s not true,” Solstice counters.

“Was it saved for anyone?” Shade asks.

Baer reaches for Shade, stepping between me and her. “Everyone’s gone. But life exists there. Just not people.”

“It matters little now,” Shade says. “The last Terran is here and he waits for you.” She extends her hand and helps me to my feet.

Shade leans forward and embraces me. We hug for a moment. When she pulls back, she grips my arms, facing me. She lowers her scarf, even though the sand swirls around us. She hesitates and then moves her lips closer to mine. When I can nearly taste her breath, she closes the distance between us and kisses me. It’s not what I expect. Aside from my sister and me, all Nemar and Soleria choose mates from the sisterhoods.

I press my body closer to Shade’s. The kiss is neither repulsive nor exhilarating. It just feels natural. I don’t love her, not any more than I imagine Solstice cares for her old best friend, Robynn.

“I wanted to know,” Shade says as she pulls away.

“And do you know now?” I ask.

“There wouldn’t have been anything between us,” Shade says. “You’re a nice kisser, though. But I don’t think you’re my type.”

“Who is?” Baer asks.

“Her,” Shade replies, pointing to Solstice.

They barely knew each other, but Shade relentlessly teased Solstice, infuriating her, during the War of the Daze. To be honest, it was one of the things that endeared Shade to me.

Solstice doesn’t look away, nor does she say anything.

“Nothing, Princess?” Shade asks.

Solstice shakes her head, no. She’s with Baer. We all know that.

Shade points behind her. The wind shifts, parting the dust for a moment. Beyond the sandy haze, I can make out a rocky outcropping. “Only the humble may pass,” she says. “Look for a door and enter the Naze. Seven tests will lead you to the eighth you seek.”

“Come with us,” I say, grabbing her forearm.

“The narcissism of the Nemar will be your undoing,” Shade says. “You won’t see me again.”

She pulls away and walks toward the rock formation. Dust and sand swirl behind her. Before I can find peace or forgiveness, she is gone.

Solstice grips my right hand, but I pull away. “Leave it be. You can’t fix this,” I say. “It has nothing to do with you. It was my choice. Shade died by my hand.”

“That sounds like pride,” Baer says. “We all made tough choices. It can’t all be on you.” From his jacket, he removes his old sunglasses—the Wayfarers—and places them over his eyes, shielding them from the sand.

It makes no sense he has them after all this time. But this is Never. I look up into the fire sky. Lightning sparks, spreading the flames between the clouds. None of this planet makes sense.

“We need to find this Naze,” Solstice says, “and get out of this sandstorm.”

“Something tells me we’ll regret that,” Baer says. He cups his hands over his glasses, looking for Shade, but she is gone, vanished, called back to where she came from.

“It’s a tunnel,” Solstice says. “Or more likely, a maze of tunnels.”

Lightning strikes nearby, sparking the air. For a moment, a burst of fire forms above the sand. The granules are drawn upward, creating the reverse of the strike. The crystals melt, forming black glass in the shape of a tree, like a reflection of the lightning. The new shape blends in with the other black trees around us.

“It’s glass,” Baer says. “The trees are glass. It’s from the lightning.”

“Duh,” Solstice says. “We’re standing right here, Mr. Chief Engineer.” Lightning strikes again, and she ducks, apologizing to the sky, like somehow Never is striking out at her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

The second strike, this one closer, forms another fireball. But instead of creating a black tree, the fire travels along the surface of the sand, following a crevasse. Within the crack, the flames spread.

We watch the fire race along the fissure until it reaches another and spreads to a different branch. Smoke rises from the cracks. There’s a puff, twenty feet from us. Black liquid shoots upward like an oil well or a tar geyser. It ignites. The flames from the ground jump at the chance to spread. As we drop to our knees, a firenado forms, rising to link land with sky.

“To the rocks!” I yell.

Lightning crackles around us as we run. With each flash, the mountain seems closer. With each flash, the flames spread, seeking to trap us.

I look back. Baer and Solstice are chasing me.

“Go!” she yells.

We run for five minutes, into the sandstorm while flame and lightning dance with each other across the sand.

I reach the rock outcropping first. But there’s no door.

We’re trapped.

The whirling flames of the firenado close in.

I’ve been here before, running from flames, searching for a way into the underground. But it wasn’t a mountain I couldn’t get into, it was the storm shelter in my barn back in Aurora on the day I lost everyone I loved. The day my mom died.

NARISTA DAUGHTER

S07Y 097D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I grew up in Aurora, Colorado, the daughter of Nemar. But my mother lived as a human, never telling me to the very end that I was different. Somehow I knew, though, and it wasn’t just because I was the only girl with four brothers. Deep down, I knew I was not my father’s daughter. He might have known too, but he loved me, and I him. My mother, though, was sick most of my life.

Crazy. That’s how I described her. Obviously, that’s wrong, and knowing what I know now, how like me, Nemesis was tormented by Pyrellax, I am sympathetic. But back then, she wasn’t a Nemar, she was just the woman who drew on my arms, leaving strange shapes in fits of lost control and overflowing memories.

The tattoos on my arms—the ram, eclipse, seven of names, the word Nemesis, the Aurora Brand, and others–I added as I recalled what my mom had drawn years earlier.

“Look for a door!” Solstice screams.

I lean into the rock face, feeling the stone heat up under the coming firestorm. Death is near, but I am far away. I collapse in the real of the Never, slipping down to the sand at the base of the rock outcropping. Black clouds swirl, sweeping down the mountainside, only yielding to flame and lightning.

I’m reminded of that day when the Jackers attacked the farm.

“Narista!” my mother screams.

The fires must be here. That’s all that’s been on the news this summer—America battling the Firegale. As refugees moved west ahead of the flames, riots and looting traveled with them. The government fell, and nowhere people congregated was safe.

But the farm was safe.

Until it wasn’t.

“Narista!” Nemesis yells. “Get to the shelter in the barn.”

“Is it the fire?” We’re in the fields, and I raise my head, looking in all directions over the yellow flowers.

“No,” she shouts back. “It’s far worse. Men.”

I’m not sure if my mother ever truly loved my half-brothers or my stepdad or my half-sisters. But he was an honorable man, and my younger brothers were as nice as can be expected to an older sister.

“What about Dad?” I ask. “What about the boys?”

“I’ll lead them in. Run. Run!”

I leave the fields, racing toward the barn, abandoning my mother. Halfway there, at the big oak in the field with the yellow rapeseed plants, I turn, looking back.

Nemesis hasn’t left to find my siblings or my father, but I somehow knew she wouldn’t. Knew she’d let them die to protect me.

A dozen men race at her. She raises her hands, releasing an unseen power. Is it the Nether or telepathy? I’m unsure, nor did these gifts have any context or meaning back then. The assailants fall, one at a time, some clutching their arms, some their heads. Blood drips from their eyes, mixing with the red that already stains their hands from murdering my brothers and father in the fields.

Jackers have reached our farm, taking what they want. That means supplies and women.

A thought from nowhere enters my mind.

Narista, run!

There are too many for her. The Jackers drop torches, setting the fields aflame. It’s not enough that the Firegale may soon take Aurora. These men are driven mad by the flames to the east. The daze was known back then; the burn—the fire madness—less so.

I’ve heard since of away teams sent by the Ferocity. One team focused on Solstice and to a lesser extent on Baer. Was this a Ferocity crew that came for me?

I run from the oak, straight to the barn, stopping only to free the ram from his pen. He saved me once in the cold of winter. And I must return the favor.

Flames race across the farm, reaching the barn before I do. Red and white paint peels and blisters, blocking the door. I run to the back. Near the tractor, a ladder leads up to the hayloft. I must go up to get down in.

I climb the ladder as flames lick my feet. I tumble into the loft, rolling from the upper level to the hay bales below.

Flames break into the barn, igniting the squares of dried grass seconds after I pass over them. The roof opens up, and timbers fall all around me. The fire will take my mother and the arsons. No one will survive this inferno but one.

Hide!

That’s the final thought my mother leaves me with. Not years of memories, like Solstice got from her mother. There will be no flashbacks to learn from, not for me. Nemesis’s mind is spent. All she had was given to Pyrellax under threat of torture, and later taken from the Ferocity Empress by Solstice. My mother’s memories, stolen by Pyrellax and then Solstice. I wonder if that means they are not all that different.

I find the trap door in the middle of the barn and climb down, last of the Morenoses, destined to be last of the Nemar. I close the door and sink to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest, crying into them. Above me, the farm in Aurora falls to the flames. But I won’t move. Not for days. I’ll stay in the shadows and the safety of this hole long after the fire has swept on.

Never calls to me, and I fall back into the real.

Baer and Solstice stand over me, struggling to raise me. Flames close in all around us.

There is no way into the mountain.

“Go up,” I say. “Go up to go in and get under.” Just like how I got into the barn.

Above us, there is an opening in the rock face.

The three of us climb like I did when fire took the barn in Aurora. Twenty feet above the ground, there is hole. One by one, we crawl in headfirst and slide downward.

NAZE

S07Y 098D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Every fall on Never seems unending. We slide down the tunnel. The rock wall is smooth, and as the angle of descent increases, so does our speed. Below me, Baer and Solstice rotate so they are feet downward and dig their heels into the cavern’s smooth walls. I slide between them, catching up.

“Where are we going?” Baer asks, locking my arm with his.

I follow his example and grip Solstice’s arm, linking the three of us. The tunnel is slick and nearly ten feet wide. Other than by the light of my Nemstar, it’s hard to calculate distance traveled—the depths to which we’ve fallen.

“Down,” Solstice replies.

I add, “To the bottom.”

The slope increases even more, and we drop faster.

The tunnel is nearly frictionless, like a playground slide, but it’s made of polished black stone. The obsidian rock is commonly known as volcanic glass. Like the black trees on the surface of Never, it’s formed during a rapid cooling process.

The Moreno family farm was built above a similar geological feature. Nemesis chose the location because it caused Terran airplanes navigational issues. Like Ferocity iron or Soleria silvolden, Nemar obsidian is unique to the system. I didn’t know it as a child, but the deposit under the farm must have been brought to Terra by my mother. It’s also known by other names, sable or ink, but Nemesis called it nyx.

“It’s nyx,” I say. I pull Baer and Solstice closer to me as we slide. “We had it in Aurora. My mom brought it with her to Terra.”

“Like Eos’s sister?” Baer asks. “Nyx?”

Honestly, I have no idea. “Yes? I guess?”

“We’re on the right path then,” Solstice says. “The search for Eos begins with Nyx.”

She’s very confident, and it seems like it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“There’s a light!” Baer yells.

Between our feet, the three of us see an orange glow.

We’ve traveled through shadow only to find flame.

“Dig your heels in!” I command.

It’s not enough to slow our descent. Pockets of steam and smoke race by us in the tunnel, reflecting the sunset below us.

“Swords!” I say. “Jam them in.”

Nyx—the volcanic glass—is formed when lava cools before crystals can form. Nemesis told me that as a child.

“We’re in a magma tube,” I say.

I remove Sable, and Solstice pulls Sunbeams from her scabbard. We lean into the hilts, forcing the tips of our swords into the tunnel walls.

The lava tube pitches downward, nearly vertical. Our arms separate, and Baer, without the benefit of a sword brake, slides ahead of us.

The orange glow looms below us. Between my toes, I can make out the river of lava.

“Use your stick!” Solstice pleads.

Below us, Baer already has Striker out, pulling it from the sling on his back and holding it out in front of him.

The tunnel is less tall than wide, so he angles his weapon at forty-five degrees.

Solstice and I can no longer dig in our blades, and we free fall.

When we are at the bottom of the tube, Striker catches like a toothpick stuck in a drain. Baer’s stomach slams into his staff, locking it into place. He falls beyond the stick, grabbing it with his right arm while he somersaults. Just as he gets a second hand on the staff, Solstice and I slam into it.

She lands on my back while I take the brunt of the impact with my butt. I fall downward, hitting Baer. I roll beyond him, down the vertical tube, grasping at his waist and then legs. I come to a stop suspended over the river of magma, hanging from his feet.

Above me, Solstice wedges her feet and right arm between the narrowest part of the tube walls, reaching for Baer with her left arm. It looks like she’s doing one of her ballerina moves.

“Hang on!” she yells.

Baer’s pants slip downward.

“Can’t you wear a belt?” I ask.

They fall to his knees and then his ankles, and his boots give way.

I let go of them before I pull him down with me.

Below the tube, I land on a small island. No more than five feet in diameter, the black rock juts up from the subterranean sea of lava.

Baer loses his grip and falls at my side. His pants entangle his feet, and he leans away from me. I grab him by the shirt, steadying him.

Above us, Solstice looks down from the tube, her knees locked around Striker. Like a gymnast, she dangles upside down, waiting to dismount. “Is it safe to come down?” she calls.

Baer and I step to the edge of the outcropping.

“Yes,” I say.

“Bring my stick,” Baer adds.

She wedges her arms and a leg into the tube wall. Using her left foot, she kicks Striker from the ledge it caught on. It bounces down the tube into Baer’s hand.

Solstice releases her points of contact and drops down at our sides. She had the best dismount of the three of us. She smiles and takes a little bow, before telling Baer to pick up his pants.

I turn from Baer’s undies and scan the surface below.

“It’s like the Everglades,” Solstice says. “But instead of sunshine there’s shadow.”

“Instead of grass, rock,” Baer says.

I add, “Instead of water, there’s a river of fire.”

So, not really like the Everglades, and yet I see what she means.

We’re surrounded by black-rock pathways cut by crevasses filled with lava. Steam and smoke rise from the cracks. Above us, a low ceiling looms. No more than a dozen feet from the subsurface, stalactites hang downward like spears. Sometimes they join with stalagmites growing up from the surface, while other times they serve as warnings. The deepest lava pits seem to mirror the stalactites.

“So, this is basically hell,” Baer says. After pulling up his pants, he rolls up his black sleeves.

“At least we have light,” Solstice says.

“Look for a way out,” I say, adding, “The deepest holes are under the largest points.”

Solstice points. “On the far side, there’s a set of stairs.”

“That’s our way out,” I say. “And it’s our first test.” I remember Shade’s words. “Be humble.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Baer asks.

“I think it means keep your head down,” Solstice answers, pointing to the stalactites.

“Follow me,” I say, and lead Baer and Solstice into the Naze.

NINTY-NINE

S07Y 099D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I lead Baer and Solstice along solid ground between the lava cracks. I call it lava in my head, even though I know that underground, it’s called magma. If I happen to meet a vulcanologist, I’ll smarten up. Until then, whatever.

White puffs of smoke and steam billow from the crevasses, dotting the subterranean landscape with chimneys as far as we can see.

“Do you think this is what Iceland is like?” Baer asks.

It’s a good analogy. We should be hotter, sweatier. And the air should seem fouler, like a poisonous noxious gas.

“Right,” Solstice says. “Shouldn’t we be sick?”

“Let’s not take any chances,” I say. “Let’s get across this Nether-world maze as fast as we can.

“Just call it the Naze,” she says.

“Fine.”

“How you feeling?” she asks.

We take turns leading and helping each other step from the safe black rocks over the lava cracks.

“Fine,” I repeat. I’m not, though. It’s suddenly hot. I wipe the sweat from my brow and cough.

“So much for that fineness,” Baer says. “We need to hurry.”

Things got worse nearly from the second I thought it. At least the ground is solid and not hot.

In front of me, Solstice jumps across a crack to the next solid ground. She lands near a stalagmite. The ground below her cracks, crumbling into the lava a dozen feet below. She reaches for the black glass formation, holding onto the pointiest part of the stalagmite.

Baer jumps after her. And me behind him. The ground gives way under our feet, and we are forced to join Solstice on an island stalagmite. The onyx surface is slick, and we struggle to hang on.

Baer yelps and hurriedly pulls his sleeves back down over his forearms. “It’s way hotter now,” he says.

I push off from the stalagmite and jump toward the next section of flat ground, telling myself to think happy thoughts.

Solid ground.

Solid ground.

Solid ground.

“Come on,” I encourage the other two. “It’s safe here.”

Solstice jumps, then Baer.

“No bad thoughts,” I say. “I swear, the ground got hotter and less safe after we started talking about that.”

“Can I wish for snow?” Baer asks.

“Remember that time we went to Lubec?” Solstice asks. “I don’t ever what to be that cold again. The only thing worse would be dying in space…” Her voice trails off.

“I didn’t kill them,” I say. “Not your grandmother. Not our cousin.”

Solstice jumps to the next black rock, over a lava ravine. “But Solterra and Solvi died trying to get to you.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Baer says. “They got caught in Nercury’s gravity when the drive failed on their Solarity.”

“Is that true?” Solstice asks. “You had nothing to do with their death?”

“Like Baer said,” I reply, “their ship failed.”

“Who destroyed the Solidarity then?”

The last of the great Soleria motherships was destroyed near the seventh ring of Saturn.

“I was on Terra when that happened,” I say.

“How do you know that?” Solstice asks.

“Was it destroyed after you left Terra and sent me out to sea?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Baer, did I ever have a spaceship on Terra?” I ask.

“Nope.”

“So it wasn’t me,” I say. I suspect the last of the Nemar on Naturn, led by Nyssa, had something to do with it, along with the Ferocity. But I can’t prove it, so there’s no point in bringing it up.

“Okay,” Solstice says, stopping in front of me. “I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.”

“You can’t go accusing somebody of something like killing their grandma,” I say, “and then say sorry like that makes it all okay.”

“It’s not getting any cooler,” Baer says. “We can all make up on the back side of this. Remember, we’re the ones that tried to save you. That’s got to count for something.”

“Saving me after I asked to die is not the same as just plain saving me,” I say.

“But now we can find Eos,” Solstice says.

“If he’s still alive,” I say.

“Are you sure you slipstreamed him here or whatever?” Baer asks.

“I’m sure. I just can’t remember where I dumped him. It wasn’t until you showed me the mirror that things started to come back. Before that, all I could remember was that you guys are a pain in the ass.”

“And now?” Solstice asks.

I grin. “Still the same.”

The three of us stop, hesitating as we peer across the widest crevasse we’ve come across thus far.

“I can do that no problem” Baer says.

He takes the next leap, hopping from black rock to black rock over the orange lava stream below. He smiles midleap but soars too high, smacking his head on a stalactite. He tumbles to the ground, nearly rolling into the next lava crack.

Solstice jumps right after him and grabs onto his shirt, keeping him from rolling off the edge. “Be humble!” she says.

“Right,” he groans. “Stay low.”

I jump, landing next to them.

Baer rolls up his sleeves again. “I know it’s hot, but it’s like I have a sunburn or poison ivy.” Blisters appear on his arms, growing as he complains.

Solstice scratches her face. “Peanuts. That’s what it feels like. Hives.”

It’s the gas or the lava. Or the lava’s gas. My legs and face itch too. My hair feels like it’s on fire. I pull off my coat and fling it to the ground so I can get at my neck.

Baer falls to his knees as he groans. “Narista’s arms aren’t blistering.”

NICKS

S07Y 100D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Solstice tumbles to the black rock at Baer’s side. “He’s right,” she croaks. “Narista. Your tattoos.”

My skin’s on fire, except for my arms and my back.

I close my eyes and wave my hands over my legs, neck, chest, stomach, and face, imagining designs. The inking covers my body, adding designs from my lifetime–the Nether pod, the Dusk Singularity, the palm tree in Key West with Eos and my initials on it, and other moments–to what I already have–the map of Arnac on my back, the eclipse, Nemesis, the ram, the seven of names, the Aurora Brand, and the A brand.

The blisters fade on my body, replaced by nicks of ink.

Solstice writhes at my feet. “Baer first.”

“Baer,” I say, “imagine your life in pictures.”

“What?” he asks.

“Think of your sketches,” Solstice says, moaning.

I wave my hands over Baer. On his flesh, the name Lani appears, then Jordin, followed by his parents’ names, Kay and Cole. There’s a bow and a crow, flames, Solstice near a tunnel, Selene, and a clover. Pictures and words appear on his body, glowing purple at first until they fade to black, becoming tattoos. When his blisters fade, I turn toward Solstice.

The first word that appears is Solelena, her mother, and then my name. Outlines of pictures appear next as purple-black ink—seven elements, gems, the Rising Sun as a yacht and also a spaceship. Then a long list of names appears, a roll call of the dead: Luna, Ravan, Matine, Kaylani, Turquoise, Dragonfly, Nyx, Fusion, Truit, and many more. So many names appear that her white skin fades to nearly all black ink.

She has suffered the most, so she suffers the least in this trial. All the memories will protect her more than us.

Baer is able to stand, but he still itches. Blisters continue to form on his bare skin.

“Can you add more?” he asks.

“Do you care about anything else?” I ask.

He pauses. “No.”

“I can’t help you then.”

“We need to get to the stairs,” Solstice says, helping Baer over the next crack.

We go left and right. Leap and soar over the fire fissures.

The closer we get to the stairs, the darker it gets. We move side to side, zigging and zagging, no longer taking the straightest route. The lava below is our guide, our light, allowing us to see the holes in the surface.

Baer continues to suffer. His regrets don’t weigh heavily on him, so he has far fewer tattoos than me or Solstice.

As we work our way across the lava pits, the fires are deeper, farther below the surface at the bottom of the cracks. Black smoke pools, billowing. When the stairs are nearly within our reach, we stop, unable to tell the black ground from the smog.

NITETIDE

S07Y 1010D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“He needs to rest,” Solstice pleads. “Let’s wait till the smoke clears.”

“It’ll be the death of Baer,” I say. And I don’t think the darkness will clear. Not here. Not this close to the stairs.

He crawls forward on his hands and knees, no longer able to stand. “Find the edges,” he croaks. “Use your toes or hands.” He crawls forward a couple more feet and then collapses.

“Shade said we need to be humble,” Solstice says.

“He’s too prideful to admit that all we did wasn’t right,” I say.

“He liked being with Nadir, but he also liked killing him and Cyrelax,” Solstice says. “Baer’s only regrets are losing. His parents. His sisters. His dog.”

“What’s the clover and the bow and crow?” I ask, kneeling next to him, making out the designs on his face in the darkness.

“You can see?” Solstice asks.

“You can too. Let your eyes adjust like they once did on Naturn or in the tunnels in Lexington.”

“I’ve got the clover back on my ship,” she says. “I don’t know why he’d regret that, unless he thinks it’s lost forever.”

“And the bow and crow?”

Solstice brushes the hair from his face. “Something about Lani and when she came out to him.”

“He always accepted her,” I say. “I don’t get it.”

“Regrets are like that,” Solstice says. “Things that take hold of us shouldn’t, while other things should. Maybe he regrets not knowing how she felt sooner and that she suffered through her first sixteen years in fear.”

Solstice puts her hand over the gem on her necklace, but it doesn’t light up. She has no powers at the heart of the Nemesis system, nor does her gem. “I thought it would work,” she says, “away from the dark star.”

She’s right. We’re on Never now. It makes no sense. Maybe it’s the singularity or how we traveled through it like the slipstream to get here from Nemesis.

I put my hand on the Nemstar around my neck. It lights up, shining purple on the three of us. Just a few leaps away, I can see the stairs to the second level.

“Help me,” I say, getting to my feet. “We’ll carry him.”

We stand and drag Baer forward, passing him between us as we step over the last of the fissures.

The Nemstar lights our way, but the going is slow. And Baer is heavy. Solstice pleads with him to think of more things that he regrets, but there are none. He’s proud of all he did. Of all we did to save Terra.

It’s admirable.

It must be freeing to have a clear conscience. I can’t even see Solstice’s skin below the black ink, she carries the weight of so many losses and regrets.

Her guilt protects her, eating away at her mind constantly but not her body.

Baer suffers horribly. Blisters form and pop on his skin. It doesn’t matter if it’s covered or exposed, the fumes eat away at his body, attacking the spaces between the ink. Blood and phlegm ooze from scratches, like the daze that once took him and so many Terrans.

“Is he dazing again?” I ask.

“I don’t think so,” Solstice says when we pause to catch our breath. “That disease is long gone.”

“I’m not so sure,” I say. “I’ve seen things, places far away, when I was sleeping on the Dusk Singularity, where people still suffer the daze’s effects.”

“Where?” Solstice asks.

“Beyond the seven systems,” I guess. I feel like I’d recognize the seven stars that align with the seven solitaires.

“Let’s just make it to the other side,” she says. “We’ll worry about space-dazers another day.”

By the time we reach the stairs the next day, Baer can no longer respond to us. Carved from black rock, the steps look smooth as black glass, almost like ice. Set into a tunnel, they lead upward.

When I peer in, purple rays from the Nemstar mix with torch light farther up the stairs.

We drag Baer up the first couple of stairs, and then the three of us collapse as one, spent.

NEITHER EITHER

S07Y 102D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I don’t know if I had four brothers or two brothers and two sisters. It seems impossible for that to be true, and yet their faces are blank to me. I remember Papa and Nemesis, of course. But I’ve lost the memory of my four siblings.

They died on the farm, unknowingly protecting me. When the ruffians came, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nemesis gave up their locations in the fields to protect me in the barn’s storm shelter.

Sometimes I make up stories about them. Most of the time they’re just faceless boys; other times they are faceless boys and girls.

Nikaia and Naya were the girls’ names—twins who were less than a year younger than me.

The tragedy of it all was that neither either girl died in the fields that day. Like me, they made their way east. Naya got lost in Canada for a while. And Nikaia, she went into the heart of Arnac. I touched their minds once, learning their stories separately, but I couldn’t bring myself to find them.

I imagine my half sisters had missions like my own that were hidden deep, waiting to be discovered.

To this day, I do not know if they still walk Terra alone or have passed on.

No one knows their stories. Not even Solstice.

It’s easier to think of them as faceless brothers.

It’s easier to not think of them at all.

NEITHER

S07Y 102D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I am neither a full sister nor a best friend. Sometimes I feel like Solstice is just the daughter of someone my mother once loved. We were thrown together by a war we didn’t start and into a war we couldn’t finish. The Seventh Seven-Clan Civil War can only end in the establishment of an Eighth Clan. Eos is the key to that, and finding the Terran solitaire. Yet to still be alive, he must be old beyond reckoning. Actually, like seventy-seven or something.

Lying between us, Baer is recovering on the black volcanic-glass stairs. As the inking on him fades, so do the blisters. His skin returns to normal, but he needs to rest.

The black ink fades from Solstice’s limbs and face too, revealing her normal white skin.

My temporary tattoos fade as well until there is only the ones on my arms that I’ve had for many years.

“We’re going to need a pod,” I say, thinking back to Eos.

“To make him young?” Solstice asks.

“Yes.”

“Could you love him old?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, cracking a smile. “But we can’t have him breaking a hip in a battle with the Ferocity.”

She nods. “We can’t have that. Plus, I imagine he couldn’t be very good in bed anymore.”

She’s wrong. “Nah,” I say. “We had a healthy life until the end.”

“Why did you let him sail out to sea then?”

“He didn’t want to die that old next to me,” I say. “I told him I was happy, but he couldn’t believe that.”

“Men,” Solstice says, running her hands over Baer’s arms and face. “This one’s looking better. I think he’s awake.”

Baer opens his eyes. “Sorry. Once you started talking about old-man sex, I had to pretend to be sleeping.”

I punch him in the arm.

“You were old once too,” Solstice says.

“Don’t remind me,” he says, sitting up on the stairs. “So, where to?”

“Up to the next level,” I say.

“How long do you think we’ve been gone?” he asks. “How long since we left the ships?”

I don’t answer. I don’t know.

“A week,” Solstice says. “I’m counting, keeping track in my head, but time isn’t the same here in the singularity. It’s flowing faster, I think.”

“We’re on Never,” Baer says.

“Yes and no,” I reply. “I think we’re also in Nemesis, caught in the singularity.”

“We’ll get out when we get out,” Solstice says. She gets to her feet, helping Baer up.

I stand next to her, taking the first step upward. “Let’s see where this goes.”

NEEDWANT

S07Y 103D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Baer is not having a good day. Second, his one-time mentor, a member of the Ferocity team assigned to Terra, and a victim of his, is standing at the top of the stairs. He recognizes her right away.

He groans. “Why is this my personal hell?” he asks, implying we should be living through my hell.

He deserves a little hell. Baer killed Second in a fit of madness. It took me years to forgive him. Up until Second’s death, Baer and I were together. But that murder, along with the killing of the rest of his former squad from The Point, is what drove a wedge between us.

“You’re dead,” Baer says, remorseless. She was, after all, a member of the Ferocity team sent to Terra to pit us against each other while simultaneously driving us together. It was an effective strategy, putting us together to activate the solitaires, but sowing distrust amongst us.

Second glares down from the top stairs. She’s prettier than I remember. Trim with dark skin like Shade, she was the last president’s closest advisor. She understood the tunnels under Terra better than no other.

Behind us, puffs of smoke float upward. We need to move up. Without the inking, we’ll be susceptible again to the poison from the lava fissures.

Solstice and I step toward her, leaving Baer on the lower step.

“He can go no farther,” Second says.

Baer, of course, takes a step up toward her.

The stairs collapse behind me and Solstice. The black glass risers and runners become a slope. Baer slips backward. He extends Striker, jamming it into the walls of the cave tunnel.

Solstice spins to help him.

“You cannot aid him,” Second says. “Not if you want to go forward and upward.”

Baer tightens his grip on his staff while wedging his right leg against the wall. “Let’s hear her out,” he says. He shakes off Solstice’s offer of help as he secures his hold.

“You’re smarter than I remember,” Second says.

“How come you’re not dead?” Solstice asks.

“You know that I am,” Second replies. “Whereas you slipstream through possibilities, Solstice, Narista’s path leads through choices that can never be.”

“How is that helpful?” Baer asks.

Second, Solstice, and I look at Baer. He needs to just shut it. Solstice says what needs to be said. “It would be better if we talk to her, Baer.”

“Fine.” He adjusts the position of his legs and tightens his grip on Striker. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just hang out here.”

There was never any bad blood between Solstice, me, and Second. Neither of us knew Second was Ferocity. She was the good cop in a sea of bad Fire Clan cops. Her role was to guide us. She may have tricked us, but she didn’t actively try to harm us. I suspect Second was aligned with a faction of Ferocity that did not advocate the complete burning of Terra, like Pyrellax once was.

Solstice and I move upward, toward Second.

“He can’t come with you,” she repeats. “He wants too much and gives too little in return.”

“Just go,” Baer says. “Find out what you need to know and then come back for me.”

Solstice nods to me, and we follow Second upward into the tunnel.

NAYA

S07Y 104D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Ride-sharing queen Margret Lyfton found romance in the back seat with strangers by day and adventure in the clubs of New York City by night. It was a great story, but amazingly, 0 percent of the tale she always told everyone was true. But it sounded a lot like a life she wished she had led. And she told herself the apocalypse was the perfect opportunity to remake herself. All she needed was some good foundation and a tweeze to make it happen. She had let some things get unruly, and even the apocalypse was no excuse for shoddy grooming. She stared into the mirror in the family restroom at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, doing her best to remove hairs from her brows that refused to comply with her wishes. She had been there for months. Surrounded by water, the museum was an oasis, one which she kept locked.

Her name wasn’t really Margret. That had been her mother’s name. And Lyfton—she hadn’t even come up with that until a couple of years after the world burned, when she finally made it to New York City. But seeing NYC, a lifelong goal, had been a major disappointment. All of the good clubs were gone, and the destruction was reminiscent of Toronto.

That’s right. She was Canadian by way of Aurora, Colorado. She had been born in Toronto when her mom and dad were at some agricultural show. She and her twin, Nikaia, came too early. They weren’t Canadian for long, just weeks really. They had to get back to the farm.

After the disappointment of New York, she dropped the Margret and took back her given name, Naya.

Naya had many secrets, starting with being fascinated by Canada. She even worked on a dual citizenship at an early age. After the Firegale, most Americans believed Canada had been completely decimated like the United States. That was partly true. The sections of Canada that Americans regularly thought about, if they thought about something besides themselves at all, were destroyed, burned like most of the United States. And many of its people had dazed as well. But survivors went north, refusing to wander the wasteland, with the exception of a few oddballs like Naya. There was immunity in the Inupiat. Americans called them Inuit or Eskimo, and Naya was pretty sure they didn’t like that. So, while most of the Canadian survivors moved north in search of a cure and answers—and, quite frankly, help from the indigenous people in surviving in the wild—Naya happily went south after checking out Toronto, bucking the trends like she always did. The US homecoming was not what she thought it would be, and she settled in Philadelphia long after the floods came in the fourth year following the Firegale.

Naya smiled in the mirror. Secret number three, after not using her real name and secretly being Canadian, was that she was an authority on family restrooms, not only in Canada but wherever she had stopped in America.

There are two things that most people fear about public restrooms: kids shitting on the walls and gender ambiguity. But nobody wants to share a lavatory with parents changing diapers or wiping down a kid who had a bathroom catastrophe, so the family restroom is bypassed and therefore is always cleaner.

And then there’s the picture on the outside of most family restrooms. It usually shows a picture of a man, a woman, and a child, and that’s confusing to both the heterosexual and homosexual populations. 

The family restroom was the default room of choice for the gender ambiguous. It wasn’t the politically correct choice, but it was Naya’s choice. People were supposed to be all defiant and choose the restroom they identified with, regardless of birth sex. But Naya preferred to stay under the radar. Why make bathroom protests when she dreamed of club notoriety?

Secret number four was the big one. It was bad enough being a woman. Make no mistake about it, Canada and the United States, despite all their high and mighty talk of inclusion, were blatantly sexist. But to not know what team she played for pretty much stupefied people. Once in a great while, before the world had ended, she let her secret out. Trans referred to transvestite or transgender or transsexual or transitioning or trans woman or trans man. It was an umbrella term covering both offensive and accepted terminology.

Naya pulled her curls behind her ears, smiling in the mirror. She had good teeth and worked hard at keeping them that way. Imagine a cavity in the post-apocalypse? That would be the worst. She had always thought of herself as Margret or Naya and not something else like Marc. Either way, both had good teeth.

Transgender referred to someone who identified with a gender other than the one he/she was born with, while transsexual was used to describe someone who’d had gender-transition surgery. Naya was neither. In the old days, they might have called her a hermaphrodite, but the more commonly accepted term was intersex. She was both male and female but didn’t have working parts for both teams. She often wondered things like when a male who had transsexual surgery to become a woman then married a man, was she a heterosexual or homosexual? Hypotheticals like that used to drive Naya crazy. Primarily because even though she identified with being female, she liked both boys and girls.

Once—the only time she ever had a sexual relationship—she had been lost in the heat of the moment, and her secret caused a wave of confusion and anger in her partner. You can’t really be a true lesbian if you have a peep. For the most part, she looked female. She even had breasts, but down below she had a tiny peep. She hated the word penis. Peep always sounded right for what she had.

So, while it was easier to say she was trans, the word implied a level of unhappiness with a previous or current state of physicality. And that really wasn’t Naya. She was happy with who she was, little peep and all as part of the regular female equipment, and never had any intention of changing. The mix-up, of course, happened at birth when the doctor and then her mom couldn’t decide what team she was on. Nobody wants to hold up a newborn and declare, “Congrats on the intersexual.” Every doctor or father wants to yell, “It’s a boy!” Or “It’s a girl.”

Naya’s mom didn’t throw her out, but she never knew how to handle it. But her papa was miraculously cool. He was fine with whatever. He understood without having to learn it the hard way that no matter what he said, he wasn’t going to make Naya any less gay or less trans, however she thought of herself. So he called her Mag or Naya, whatever she felt like. They even had their own special time together. They used to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race, and then they would talk about it after the show. After the show. Because everyone knows you don’t talk about RuPaul’s Drag Race during the show. If you do that, you miss half the stuff.

Secret number five was that Naya wanted to be a professional drag queen. Which was okay by her dad, but not the professional drag queens. Not all of them, but quite a few. Real boobs were not an asset in the industry. Nor was Naya’s age. Sure, she was old enough now, but she hadn’t been allowed into the clubs at thirteen, before the world ended. So she hung out by the back door in secluded clubs, hoping to get a glimpse or some tips from her idols. And that’s where she heard things like, “You can’t use those in here, honey.” Those were her boobs.

If secrets one through five were not enough, she had one more. The idea of the dazer as a gender-neutral being intrigued her. She had heard stories of cannibalism but also of the joinings and sexual fluidity. And she really wanted to see a joining, maybe even join one. Because dazers didn’t care. Still, she wasn’t sure how they would take to a human.

If she had a secret number seven, it would have been that secrets one through six shouldn’t matter. Naya really wanted to be gay or lesbian or trans without that being the defining characteristic of her life. She didn’t feel the need for public announcements or clarifications. Why do you need to come out of a closet you’ve never been in? And who made the closet anyway? Being gay or lesbian or trans should be like being left-handed. You just do things a little bit differently and it should be like no big deal. Ten percent of the population was LGBTQ. That’s a small minority. There were plenty of other things that deserved ridicule. Like the 1 percent of the population that liked New England sports teams before the Firegale. Every year, some team near Boston was in the championship of one of the four major sports. Even in Aurora, Boston sports teams were hated. But laws weren’t made restricting being a Boston sports fan. Nope. But people loved to attack the LGBTQ or make laws restricting them. Things had been getting better before the flames, but they were still light years from ordinary.

Naya just wanted to be ordinary, except for the drag queen part.

Secrets one through six were a lot to take.

And when her sister Narista passed through that one time and then again, Naya never came out of hiding. She’d rather stay in the restroom than fight her mother Nemesis’s stupid war.

Naya never met a dazer.

And when the bunker under her was destroyed by lighting, she was just as surprised as her sister Narista, riding across the ash on a snowmobile outside the museum in Philadelphia.

NETHER KNOWING

S07Y 104D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Time does not flow the same way here, and yet Solstice knows how much has passed. This is my slipstream, and it bothers me that I don’t know and she does. At the top of the tunnel, she says, “It’s been a day since we left Baer.”

“Correct, Princess,” Second says.

“Do you think he’s all right?” I ask.

“This is about you,” Solstice replies. “And me fulfilling a promise.”

“You don’t have to keep helping me find Eos,” I say. “You already gave us enough time together. We can’t do this at Baer’s expense.”

Second stops, scanning our faces. “It’s not about him or you,” she says. “Or your boyfriend. It’s about the mission.”

“I’m not as selfless as you think,” Solstice says.

“That’s not what I meant,” Second replies. “You want it all to be over. You’re eager for an ending, no longer concerned with the modifier happy.”

“Sounds like one of your lyrics,” I say to Solstice.

“It is,” Second and Solstice say.

“What’s next?” I ask. “More lava? More poisonous gas?”

“Only what Nether knows,” Second replies.

Solstice pokes Second in the side. It’s not a hard poke. Second doesn’t flinch, and it seems like the perfect kind of are-you-even-alive poke.

“I always liked your mother, Solelena,” Second says. “And your mother as well, Narista. The galaxy would have known peace had they been allowed to rule.”

“Why weren’t they?” I ask.

“Two clans cannot be allied,” Second replies.

“Why not?” Solstice asks. “What about the Airan and the Wydran? They’re like buddy clans. And the Eartarin have the Ferocity. The Soleria should be able to join with the Nemar.”

“There would be no balance.” Second looks down the tunnel. “The Aethan can’t survive forever. Not without balance. Eventually, his grip will give way.”

“Baer?” Solstice asks.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I say. “That’s why we need Eos. An eighth clan will balance the Aether.”

“Aetha Prime is the key to repopulating Terra,” Second says. “So alike are the Aethans and Terrans in mind, body, and spirit, that nearly no one can tell them apart.”

She’s right. Both Baer and Robynn lived happily on Aetha Prime, for a short while.

“Why help us?” Solstice asks. “You’re Ferocity, and Baer killed you.”

“Are you even here?” I ask.

“There are different factions in the Ferocity,” she says, confirming what I thought. “I was allied with Pyrellax against her brother. And I am dead. But you know that.”

“Is it just the illusion?” Solstice asks. “One of Narista’s gifts?”

“This would be one big illusion, wouldn’t it?” Second replies. “It would be an awfully big ruse just so Narista can remember where she left her boyfriend, Eos.”

“That’s not an answer,” I say.

“I can go no further,” Second says, “and Baer must remain behind. I will stay with him.”

She walks down the tunnel stairs.

“Where must we go?” I ask.

Second neither turns nor stops her descent. “Nether knows what Nether knows. And I can’t enter the Nettle.” She fades into the shadows leading into the lava.

“Up or down?” I ask.

“Up,” Solstice replies. She takes my hand, and we step beyond the tunnel exit into darkness.

NIKAIA

S07Y 105D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Nikaia kept walking in the refugee caravan. All around her, the armies under Lani Skyhaven’s command were preparing to lay a trap as they walked toward Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Nadir and his Dazer Army were in pursuit. She had switched sides when Azar could no longer be a Fire Darktal, a commander in the army of dazers. They left Nadir’s camp at night and slipped into the caravan of refugees that sought protection under the banner of heroes like Solstice Dayton and Baer Sheridan.

No one even noticed when they joined their former enemies. Nikaia was universally ignored by all, except a dog. Selene walked by her side, tail wagging. Dogs don’t know ugly, she thought. Azar walked next to her on her other side. Nikaia ran her hand along the top of Selene’s head. It was nice to have a friend. Nikaia didn’t have a lot of opportunities to make friends. She never strayed from Azar’s side and she hadn’t spoken a word to anyone. Not just since switching sides, but since her mother died a couple years ago. The burn would have been a blessing, but the daze that took her mother was an abomination. Her sisters Naya and Narista hadn’t seen it, but Nemesis was sicker in her final weeks. It was a cruel fate for a woman who had spent her life suffering.

In order to avoid her mother’s destiny, Nikaia had kept quiet most of her life, certainly not speaking in the presence of others outside her family. That was the only way she could keep the voices at bay. She spoke only in whispers, and not at all when Azar was there. She often wondered if he knew her real name because she answered to bitch. As in, “Bitch, get me a water.”

When your boyfriend is that cruel, the world is even scarier. Nikaia never knew god, but she prayed to her like a kid prays for a superhero to rescue her. Wonder Woman never came for her, though. And her life remained a hell on earth, where she learned to distinguish the taste of another woman’s blood from her own. The same dirty hand that struck other wasteland survivors often hit her later without even being cleaned.

So, while Azar kept his head down in the refugee caravan—abusers are cowards like that—Nikaia kept her mouth shut, just as she had for years. It was speaking that always got her in trouble with Azar. And even though she felt the change within her, she hid her body’s desire to Evolve. Azar noticed it, though. And so did Nadir. The gifts ran in families. Once Narista was revealed, Nadir suspected her as well.

Nikaia’s mother’s soul would have to navigate her made-up afterlife without her daughter’s prayers. Azar was in desperate need of saving. Her boyfriend’s hands were stained black with blood and soot. He had become a zealot in the Fire Army, commanded by Blaze. While he privately questioned Blaze, in practicality he was one of her best soldiers, rising to the rank of second-in-command. The atrocities committed at Rivertown could not be forgiven, even now, a year later. Tens of thousands of Immunes were put to the flame in a midnight raid while Pyre was meeting with Solstice. There would be no place for her boyfriend in the afterlife, whatever she imagined it to be.

They were both survivors now, in more ways than one.

Nikaia would not leave his side in this life or the next. He was the only boy she had ever known. He had been kind at first, finding her in the wild of Kansas, far east of her farm in Aurora. And even when she saw the change come over him, she could not abandon him. He had that same look in his eyes now that Nadir had. Like it was somebody else’s fault he was like this. She always knew when a beating was coming.

She could see it in his eyes.

But Nikaia had desires, ones that should have never come to life because they would never be fulfilled.

She had only dared look upon the blonde girl once. To even say her name was too much. It was clear why she already had disciples, Sun Maidens. If angels truly existed, Solstice had to be the highest of all. Nikaia was too shy and too scared even to speak to her. But for days the angelic voice had bounced in her head, singing a lyric that might have been designed to motivate her by mocking her reluctance to be anything more than subservient.

“Subpar”

I have led a life

Of sustained underperformance

Excelling at only

Mediocrity

The lyric had the twin effect of giving Nikaia the desire to reveal her gifts to the world, but also to pull away even more from all around her. It was tempting to let the voice sway her. But it was Solstice’s beauty that was most alluring, invoking subterranean thoughts. Nikaia was plain, ordinary, and unworthy of admiration, even in her own eyes. In a world where all men and boys looked upon her with derision, it would be easy to love an angel.

Solstice had followed the lyric with: “That is not my song. It is just how you hear it. You need to choose your own path and find your own voice.”

But to love what you cannot have is the cruelest fate of all.

Nikaia had always covered her body. She had no love for its odd shape, nor did she want anyone to see her scars. Azar didn’t deserve to be called boyfriend; he was an affront to all that men should be. And the evil and abuse he visited upon her was too much. And that was the reason why she could never love a boy.

She saw the looks the other teens in the caravan gave her. They stared, silently mocking her. The shy one. The one with all the clothes. The ugly one with the crazy hair. She should be celebrated. She was a survivor. Her world had come crashing down long before the end of the rest of the world, and yet she remained.

But she had to keep her head down. Words always brought on the pain. Nikaia would be exactly who everyone expected her to be, hiding her new gifts and love, choosing not to excel even at mediocrity.

Months later, Nikaia slipped away from Azar. The anger was taking him. The flame that burned in him could no longer be extinguished. He was just like Nadir, and she had the bruises to prove it. So, she left in the night, slipping into the cattail fields and wetlands that she was helping to spread across the floodplain near Arnac City. Mother Nature would have done it eventually, but Nikaia felt a calling. When she thought of her mother Nemesis, she imagined an ash wasteland not of this world. And even though she had been late to acknowledge her gifts, she would remain true to them. All of the others had strayed from their gifts and purpose, setting up city-states and using their powers and influence to establish domains—even the blonde did that—while Nikaia quietly honored her gift. She nurtured and spread the wetlands by replanting species of vegetation. Cattails and reeds grew shockingly fast in the old world at a rate of over an inch per day, but in the ash-rich soil buried under the floodplains east of I-95, they grew at twice that rate and spread several times as fast. Soon, vegetation nurtured by her hand and Mother Nature would spread across the old burnt-out cities, devouring man’s devices.

Nikaia had always struggled under her boyfriend’s abuse to find a god worthy of protecting her and worthy of her prayers. Often, she prayed to the likes of Wonder Woman and other imaginary goddesses to deliver her from the hell of this new world.

But those prayers were ignored.

At first, she thought the blonde was worthy of her adoration. But she was wrong. The one true god was Mother Nature. No more or less real than any other belief once put forward by other cultures. Mother Nature would heal the land and swallow all of man’s creations. For man, men like her boyfriend and so many others, was truly evil.

Still, the blonde called to her in the reeds, appearing before Nikaia in daydreams. She loved the Sun Maiden like no other, and the aberration guided her, bringing her closer to enemy territory. Nikaia’s mission became crucial as she saw the damage to the earth that came from Arnac. And while she spread the wetlands, combating the filth from Arnac City, she was not alone. The vision of Solstice stayed with her, shimmering in the grasses. She followed a path unwatched by the dazed of Arnac City and slipped through its borders.

It wasn’t until months later when the marches of Arnac were full grown that she saw the giant panther that Nikaia realized the girl lying before her was no longer in her daydreams.

Solstice was dead. She had been hung on Spike, and not even the giant panther watching over her body could save her.

Although her sister Narista was near, Nikaia walked out of the reeds and into the water in despair, never looking back.

Naya was already gone. Of that, Nikaia was sure. She had heard of Narista doing terrible and great things all at once, under the guise of fulfilling the mission their mother had sent her daughters out in the word to do.

Three sisters all tasked with the same mission: defeat the flame. But that battle was too far away, and Nikaia missed her twin. She would never succeed anyway. Narista was born different, and they didn’t share fathers. If anything, Nakaia knew that she and her sister Naya were bait, just distractions to confuse the enemy.

Nakaia had played her part and suffered, but with the blonde dead, the war was over. And when the water in the Chesapeake Bay reached her lips, she kept walking.

NUDGE

S07Y 105D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

The Duchess. The Princess. Voices echo our titles in the darkness.

“It’s about time for creepy voices,” Solstice says. “Like this whole trip wasn’t creepy enough.”

I hold the Nemstar up, shedding purple light into the shadows. Purplish-gray specters rush at us. Threadbare white cloth hangs from their skeletal bodies. I let go of the solitaire, and it fades to black in the necklace around my neck. Dropping to my knees, I reach for Solstice. She’s right there with me.

Neither of us like ghosts.

Not that either of us have seen them before.

“I’m not sure we should have left Baer,” I say. “Should we go back?” It’s cowardly, and I regret it immediately.

Solstice tightens her grip on me, shaking. “It’s not real,” she says. “Your slipstream is not real.”

“Some of it has to be,” I say.

“Right,” she says. “The part about saving Eos needs to be real.”

“Do you ever get confused traveling through all the possibilities?”

The longer I talk, the less real the ghosts seem. Except for the swooshes of air swirling around us and the sense that someone is breathing down my neck.

“Yes. But impossibilities are just as bad,” Solstice replies. She leans forward, placing her lips next to my ear, and whispers. “We need to look again. We need to find a way out. A way to the next level.” She nudges me. “Do it.”

I grip the Nemstar, holding it just inches from the Solstar. Solstice’s gem has no power in Nemesis, in the dusk singularity, but I am still wary of touching the gems together. Whenever any two solitaires come in contact with each other, it sets off an explosion. The gems seem fine, but the users suffer.

I open my fingers, allowing the Nemstar to shed purple light.

Faces from the past race around us. The same names that were ink in the lower level come to life here. Sable, Misty, and Murky. Dawn Maidens and Dusk Maidens zip around us. Girls long dead glow purple. Bits of gray flesh dangle from their bones like the rags that hang from their bodies.

“Look for a way out,” Solstice whispers.

The specters answer with screams.

“Back to back,” I say. We sit and rotate, pushing against each other. I hold the Nemstar higher, casting light on the cavern. The second level is endless. Shadows go on for miles in all directions. The door we came from is obscured. There is no in or out in the cave. Wind driven by the ghosts whips around us. I press my back against my sister’s, turning my head away, but I can’t close my eyes. I can’t stop looking.

“Luna?” Solstice asks. “Is that you? Ravan? Tempest and Matine? Kyra is fine. I mean, she was. She lived a long life. She had a daughter, Fyra, with one of Fusion’s boys. Yes. No. I don’t know where Fyra is. But we will look for her. She can bear a stone. Have you seen Kyra? She was like a little sister. She’s not. Why? Because I saved her? Only the tormented? How do we get out, Matine?”

At my back, Solstice shudders as she recognizes old friends, those that died for her. No one speaks to me. I didn’t inspire that kind of loyalty, not from anyone besides Shade.

I recognize Shadow Riders, those that died in the war and those that fell in the Everglades, but there is no love lost between us.

“What are they saying?” I ask.

“Stay in the shadows,” Solstice replies. “That’s the key. Kill the light.”

I pull the Nemstar close to my chest and imagine it going black. The purple light fades, and we are plunged into darkness again.

NONSTOP

S07Y 106D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“They only exist in the light,” Solstice says. “Like memories we want to forget.”

“How do we get across?” I ask. “How do we find a way out? We could walk nonstop and never find the next staircase.”

“Ravan and Luna kept saying stay in the shadows,” Solstice says. “Stay in the shadows.”

It’s one of my gifts.

“Remember,” I ask, “when we rode Eclipse in Arnac City to hide from the dazers?”

“Yes,” Solstice replies. Guessing my mind, she says, “Cast a shadow. We’ll be protected and we can use the Nemstar.”

“We stand on three,” I say. “One, two, three.”

We control our fear and rise.

I open my palms and imagine black smoke covering us, shielding Solstice and me from the outside world. It takes a minute before I am confident the shadow encloses us.

“Shine the Nemstar now,” Solstice says.

I grip my gem, but I need a minute.

“What is it?” she asks. Her telepathy may be gone like the rest of her powers here, but she can still sense, like many sisters can, when something is wrong with her sibling.

“I’m just tired,” I say. I’m cycling through my gifts without restoring them by sunlight or starlight.

“Can you hold the shadow without your arms extended?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She grips my right hand with her left. “Now, light the gem.”

I activate the luminescence of the Nether solitaire with my left hand.

Spirits zip around the shadowcast, peering into our bubble but unable to break it and enter.

“How long can you hold it?” Solstice asks.

I lie. “To the other side.”

She points to our feet, showing me gray stones leading away from us, imbedded into a wide plane of black volcanic glass. “Look, a path.”

NETTLE

S07Y 107D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“This would be easier if we had a cat,” Solstice says.

We walk side by side, following the gray stone path by the light of the Nemstar while enclosed in a shadowcast.

“Do you miss Eclipse?” I ask.

“Of course.” She flashes a smile to hide the pain. “But intergalactic movies that feature cats are unrealistic. Everyone knows they’ll be extinct by the time we take to the stars.”

“We’re in a star,” I say. “And that’s like a Baer joke or something, except he’d say eaten to extinction.”

“You got me there,” she says. She looks back over her shoulder.

I lie again. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I actually trust Second,” she says. “She’ll go find him. The question is, how hard will she make it on him?”

“She’s not going to kill him,” I say. But it would seem like justifiable payback if she did. Death for death.

The specters swirl around us, trying to penetrate the shadow over us. My cast holds them off, but I am tiring. When more than one bounce off it, I’m forced to pull the shadow back tightly against Solstice and me.

“They’re not evil,” she says, recognizing another one of her dead Sun Maidens. “That was Turquoise. They just want to tell us things. Get things off their chests. Even to guide us.”

“Restless spirits?” I ask.

She nods. “Our work remains unfinished. They won’t sleep deep until we’re gone or the war is won.”

She starts. “Ouch! Something poked me.”

I move the Nemstar and radiate light onto her shape. She’s walked into some prickers or something.

“How did this even get here?” I ask. I hold the Nemstar aloft while growing the shadow, forcing the specters back. I can’t hold it forever, so I take a quick glance forward.

“They’re everywhere,” Solstice says.

“I guess we’ve reached the Nettle,” I add.

“Did Second say she couldn’t enter the Nettle or that she wouldn’t?” Solstice asks. “Because I bet if it was a field of feather mattresses we were walking into instead of prickers, she’d be able to come with us just fine.”

I step forward, shining the Nemstar directly in front of. We stay on the path, but the nettles grow across it, entangling our feet and cutting us through our leggings.

“First of all,” I say, “Second’s dead. The rules don’t apply to her. Second of all, a field of mattresses?”

“I’m tired,” Solstice replies. “I want to find a bed and take a nap. When’s the last time we ate, slept, or drank?”

“We haven’t,” I say. “It’s been days.”

“Exactly. That’s not right. We should feel way more awful.”

I stop to pull nettle barbs from my pants. “My legs feel awful. Shouldn’t these undershieldcapbosuits protect me from these?”

“I don’t remember that in the manual,” Solstice says. “They’ll keep us hot or cool, even wet or dry depending on what we need, but they’re not armor.”

Around us, the shadow blinks, glitching. Specters rush inward for a second until I can reestablish our defenses.

“I’m tiring,” I confess as I recast the shadow. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be the one tiring without starlight?” My body can process unseen solar rays like ultraviolet or gamma, but Solstice usually needs visible light to remain strong. “I just need to sit for a moment.”

“The impossible is possible in your slipstream,” she says. “That means, it’s possible for you not to gather strength from hidden sources and for me to be strong.”

I sit on the path, trying to find a spot between the nettles. Around my neck, the Nemstar dims. Solstice moves next to me and I pull back the shadow, casting the smallest one possible to keep out the ghosts.

The raggedly-clothed skeletons race around us, forming a whirlwind. Some scream while others cry.

Solstice, they chant.

“I can’t hang on,” I say.

“Close your eyes,” Solstice says, “and I’ll close mine. If I can’t see them, they have no power.”

Before I can protest, I drift off, leaning into her.

I hear Solstice scream. The specters can still get her, but a dream calls, and I cannot put off rest any longer.

NEAR AND BEYOND

S07Y 108D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Beyond the shadow of the dark star lies the flame in wait, and beyond that, unimaginable horror. The Dusk Singularity is not only an antenna, listening for other ships, it’s also a broadcast station, calling for other life while sending my mind in search of it. I didn’t remember when I awoke in the pod, but my mind has been elsewhere. Of that I am sure.

Solstice’s visions have dried up, but mine were just coming to life in Key West when the Ferocity made their final attack on Terra.

In my mind, I pass through Ferocity space. Before I go farther, I picture the map of the seven systems. Using the lyrics from Solstice’s song, I recall their order or locations. Sun, Aether, Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Nether. The systems line up along a sphere with the stars in order: Sol, Aetha, Eartari, Feroxima, and Nemesis, so that the Sun Clan’s and Nether Clan’s stars are next to each other. The Aira and Wydra Systems are like poles on the top and bottom of the sphere.

Seven systems form a sphere, but every ball has a center, a core. The eighth system, the one for the Terran’s, must be there. Solterra knew more than she let on. She didn’t foresee her death. But Solstice’s grandmother gave me a vision. I hear her voice in my head. It nearly blocks out Solstice’s screams while she battles the specters in the nettle, protecting my body.

“The myth of the Soleria Clan is incomplete,” Solterra says in a memory. “We weren’t the first, just the strongest, early on. At the center of the seven systems lies Terra Prime, a single planet, with no star, from which all life has evolved. The seven suns from the seven systems cast their light on her. My mistake was thinking I could recreate her splendor on the third planet of the Sol System. But only on the planet Terra Prime, perpetually bathed in the light of seven stars, can there be peace among all clans.”

I stand before the three-dimensional star map in my mind, my grandmother at my side. “But what of the Ferocity?” I ask.

Solterra grasps my hands. “They are formidable, but there are other enemies and other allies. You cannot destroy an entire clan and hope for peace.”

“But the Nemar and Soleria are spent. Only two remain,” I say.

“The strongest are often doomed to walk a lonely path,” Solterra replies. “Replenish the Terrans with the Aethans to find balance. Eight is the number of clans you must maintain. But remember, all must be welcome. Without some from each clan, the balance will be lost.”

“Okay,” I say.

Solterra shimmies before me. The map and her silhouette fade away. “Beware of the unclan,” she adds. “They can destroy all.”

The vision shifts.

For a moment, I see Solstice carrying my body through the nettles. Specters attack her, screaming their hopes and dreams from lives cut short. She can see the door, so she continues on with head bowed, blocking their voices.

I call to my sister, but the dream still has its grip on me.

A vision of Baer, Kase, Fusion, and Jordin passes before me. Then Artist, Nadir, and Titan. All of them, friend and foe, were taken at one point by the daze.

Beyond the shadow lies the flame, and then unimaginable horror.

The daze still infects the galaxy. The unclan wait.

Before me, faces of my friends flash. Solstice, Baer, Eos, and even those I don’t know as well—Hali, Fyra, Aerynn, and Everet, the second generation of solitaire bearers—and then myself. Like the rest, my skin boils, oozing black pus, blood, and phlegm.

The daze will take us all.

NEST

S07Y 109D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I scream, coming back to Solstice.

When I open my eyes, she is carrying me on her back. Our clothes are covered in nettles, as is our hair. I can’t see a thing beyond us. It’s like she’s built a nest around us, protecting us from the specters.

The prickers dig into my skin, and hers. Blood drips from every pinprick.

“Don’t move,” Solstice says.

“Let me down,” I say. “I’ll cast a shadow.

She trudges forward. “Save your strength. You don’t weigh anything, and the next stairway is close.”

The ghosts race around us, trying to penetrate the nest of nettles, shouting. Luna wants her surfboard, Salsasplats, back. Ravan wants to know why she built the new Everglades City just to have it burn down when Solstice clearly knew that was going to happen. Matine wants her sisters, wants to see them again. Turquoise keeps complaining about her finger. Jomai wants to know if those she died for at the big pharma survived the invasion. She keeps going on about being a battery.

But these are Solstice’s ghosts.

Familiar faces come at me while I bounce over Solstice’s left shoulder. But everyone is upside down because I am. I’m bent in two, with my waist at her clavicle. “You are so bony,” I say.

“Just ignore them,” she says.

“Your bones?”

“No, the ghosts. They can’t get through the nettles.”

“I need to tell you something,” I say. “I saw Solterra. She told me where we can find Terra Prime. Where we can join the seven clans with the eighth to find peace.”

I spend the next ten minutes, or is it a day?, relaying my dream. Time has no meaning, and Solstice’s strength is unrelenting.

“I’m the strong one,” I say. I mean, everyone knows that. Solstice can barely lift her own sword, let alone a person.

“We’re in the impossible,” she says. “That’s the way of your slipstream.” She stops. “We’re here.”

I spin my head, but I can’t see in front, not where she is facing. And upside down is so the worst. “Let me down,” I say.

She bends down, allowing my feet to find the floor. As we separate, the nettle nest breaks apart. But it’s okay. The specters fade away behind us.

Our next guide is here.

In front of a third set of tunnel stairs going upward, Nadir, the master of Arnac City and last member of the Ferocity away team to die, awaits.

NIMOCITY

S07Y 110D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

“Where’s the boy?” Nadir asks, standing at the bottom of another set of black glass stairs.

“We left him behind,” Solstice snaps as she pulls nettles from her body. Each thorn she removes from her skin, clothes, and hair leaves behind a trickle of blood, but that’s not why she’s mad.

Nadir led the ground assault that destroyed most of the final survivors on Terra. If Baer hadn’t killed him, he might have challenged Pyrellax herself for leadership of the Fire Clan.

“I was so hoping to hurt him,” Nadir says.

He no longer wears the iron crown, nor does he suffer from the burns Baer, Solstice, and Lani inflicted on him in the Battle of I-84 during his first fall. Nor is he the ash that Baer turned him into as he sucked Nadir’s power from his body.

He is the Nadir of old. He is the military scientist, restored in body—the one who walked with Solstice in the wild from Lexington to St. Louis, and then went by plane with her and Baer to SACAM at Ashland.

“You look good,” Solstice says.

He nods to her. “Sunbeams.” Then he looks at me. “Lady Shadow, I really did want you to rule at my side with Baer.”

“I’m so over that,” I say. “There was like three leaders of Arnac City after he killed you. There was Baer, Kase, and Titus.” I smile when Nadir scowls.

“Don’t antagonize the dead,” Solstice says, “and he can’t antagonize us.”

She’s right. These visions from our past, the impossible come back to life, can only hurt us as much as we let them.

“What do you want to show us?” I ask.

“It’s your illusion,” he says.

I’m not sure that’s true. It’s my slipstream. We entered through the singularity where space-time bent, so what’s happening is real but not part of the timeline we want to return to.

“Don’t strain thinking too hard,” Nadir add.

I look at Solstice. “Can we kill him again?”

“Strike me down you can,” he says, “but…”

Solstice pulls Sunbeams from her scabbard with lightning speed, and before Nadir can say another word, she springs up several steps, landing above him. She swings downward, removing his head. It falls to the ground, bouncing down the steps toward me.

“Eww.” I step aside, letting it roll past me.

The body falls away from Solstice and lands at my feet.

“’But…’” I say. “What about the but?”

She leans over his body and wipes the black blood from her sword. “What could that asshole possibly say to us that would have been helpful?”

I look at the body. Solstice is strong and impulsive in this timeline. It makes no sense.

“Sorry,” she says. “It was wrath. I’d do the same if I saw Cyrelax too, or even this prick again. Come on. Let’s see what’s next. We got to get your boyfriend so we can get back to mine.”

I step over the body and follow her upward to the next level.

NULLIFY

S07Y 111D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Nadir greets us at the top of the stairs.

His head is back where it’s supposed to be.

Solstice, to her credit, removes it again with lightning speed, but before she can even get her sword back into its scabbard, Nadir’s head is reattached. He stands in an entryway at the top of the stairs, blocking our view of the cavern beyond.

“Sorry, ladies,” he says. “It’s not going to take. In fact, you’ll find everything you’ve done has been undone.”

“Does that mean the past is changed?” I ask.

“I should have killed you that first time,” Solstice says.

In the Battle of Skyhaven Bridge, Solstice pretended to crash a jeep stolen from the Smithsonian, and then she lay in the road, supposedly mortally wounded. She lured in Nadir and tens of thousands of dazers. The act was so convincing, Baer—who was restrained by four dazers—bought into it. And as he sobbed over Solstice’s body, the trap was sprung. Along with Lani Skyhaven, the leaders of Chief Royal and Rivertown, Tempest and Pyrellax, launched Molotov cocktails from the roadside embankments. It was a well-executed plan, but the Immunes who comprised their armies were far too outnumbered.

When all hope was lost in the final battle under the bridge, Solstice, Baer, and Lani combined their powers, using Sun, Aether, and Wind to permanently maim Nadir. In that moment, the Master was changed. As the Prime Aether—the last one before Baer—he had the ability to absorb gifts, just as Baer did. The battle turned, and the three Elementals were nearly defeated until Solstice realized Nadir’s weakness—sunlight.

Lani and Baer were beaten back, and the dazers bore away Nadir. Solstice gave chase, and as she was surrounded by the Master’s army, she struck him down, using sunrays to drive him to the edge of death’s door. But the remaining humans were still hopelessly outnumbered, so Solstice struck a bargain with Nadir. He could return to Arnac and claim the former capital and the secrets hidden in its tunnels. In exchange, the Immunes were spared certain slaughter and the dazers walked away peacefully. That one decision by Solstice, however, set in motion Nadir’s resurrection and countless more deaths than would have been lost that day.

In the end, it was Baer who ended Nadir’s reign, absorbing his powers after the six other Elementals—Solstice, Lani, Fusion, Kase, Jordin, and me—attacked him months later in the Jefferson Memorial.

I peer over Nadir’s shoulder, but the angle is off, and all I can see is the ceiling of the next cavern.

He’s kind enough to step aside. “Enjoy the ride,” he says. He pushes past Solstice and heads down the stairs, vanishing in the darkness of the nettle below.

Solstice pulls a pricker from her hair. “Damn. I was hoping these would disappear when the specters did. What did he mean by ‘enjoy the ride’?”

“Let me pass,” I say. I can already see what he meant. The third cavern is bathed in orange light like a sunset or fire at night.

Before me, I see the farm in Aurora, Colorado.

My father, sisters, and brothers stand around two graves in the meadow beyond the barn, near the big oak.

The ram is there too.

“What is this?” Solstice asks. “Different levels of your psychosis?”

It’s cruel and uncalled for.

I spin, plant my feet, and give her a left cross to the jaw. Solstice crumbles, falling to the ground.

“What a horrible way to die,” my father says with a sob.

“It’s Narista’s fault,” my youngest brother says. “She killed Mom.”

“They were both sick,” my father says. “Your mother took her own life. If everything Nemesis predicted about Narista was true, the world wouldn’t be a place worth living in. Your mom just couldn’t live with that.”

“I’m sorry,” my oldest brother says, “but then it’s better that Narista didn’t survive the fire. Imagine what she would have done to us. It would have been better if she had never been born.”

“Will that happen to us?” the middle boys ask.

“No,” my father says. “I’m fine. So you’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that?” the other boys ask.

“Narista wasn’t my daughter,” he says.

NOW

S07Y 112D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I knew that. What my father says is true, but he loved me. I walk into the field with Solstice trailing. Stopping at the big oak, I look for a sign that Eos and I were ever here. In my first slipstream back in Key West, we lived a life here as a farmer and an artist.

“I wanted to be a farmer,” I tell Solstice. “My father had all these sayings. They weren’t even original. Something about a fence and neighbors and life being a farm…”

Solstice rubs her jaw. She doesn’t complain about the punch. Leaning on the oak, she puts her other hand on my shoulder and nods toward my family. “They don’t mean that.”

“Hey!” I yell. “It’s me, Narista. Do you mean that or not?”

Neither my father nor my siblings look as they walk from the graves, past the oak toward the barn. They can’t hear us or see us.

With the orange sky above us, it feels like we’re outside the mountain, not under it. I look back and can no longer see the entrance to this cavern.

“Any idea where we head to?” Solstice asks.

“It’s got to be the barn,” I say. “That’s where I rode out the first fires seven years ago while my family died at the hands of Jackers and flames.”

As we walk toward the red and white barn, Solstice asks, “Aren’t storm shelters underground?”

“Yep,” I say. “If I’m right, we’ll go down to go up.”

“You sound like me,” she says.

Don’t I know it. I’m speaking in riddles and she’s the strong one. Everything is backward, impossible in this slipstream.

We ignore the graves.

I don’t need to see my name or my mom’s written there.

There’s a commotion in the barn, and the ram bursts out the open back door. The animal saved me when I was lost long ago in the winter. It runs right at me, stopping when it reaches us.

I bend over and scratch him under the chin. He recognizes me, but more importantly, he can see me.

“We’ve got trouble,” Solstice says.

My oldest brother emerges from the barn with a rifle. He checks his round and fires. The ram lurches forward, hitting my legs while absorbing the buckshot.

“Stop it!” I scream.

My brother fires again, hitting the ram in the ribs. It collapses at my feet.

“It’s about time,” my brother mumbles. “That thing’s been ornery since she died.”

I kneel next to the ram, looking into its eyes at it passes. Blood pools in the grass in front of me.

Solstice is right.

This feels like levels of psychosis. With each level, I’ll get closer to finding Eos and the truth.

But I’m not ready for the truth.

My brother reaches me and pulls the ram away, dragging it by the back legs. He still doesn’t see me—he can’t see me—and I don’t care.

My father’s, sisters’, and brothers’ lives flash before me. They are happy. I see adjoining farms, families extending, and children. My father remarries. The fields turn to meadows. The farm becomes an event facility. No longer are crops grown. The last of the livestock dies or is sold off. My youngest brother stays with my dad while the others move off and move on.

The graves by the oak fall into disrepair. Years later, a new family moves in, and the collapsed headstones are lost in a sea of meadow grass.

No one will ever know we were there, and the world is a happier place for it. Without my mother, there is no war. Without me, Terra is never burned. Humanity lives on, for good or evil, but it lives on.

I always thought the apocalypse was on Solstice and her family, but it doesn’t seem that way in my slipstream.

It’s not the Soleria that are to blame for the fires, but the Nemar.

“It’s our fault,” I say. “Me and my mother.”

Solstice watches the world change for the better without Nemesis and me. 

“The absence of some doesn’t change the fate of many,” she says. “This isn’t real.”

“But it could have been,” I cry.

“But in this dream,” she says, “your mother lives as long as before. That just proves you’re wrong.”

“Then it’s not her,” I say. “What’s different about this?”

“You die on the same day as your mother,” Solstice says. “If you don’t live the Ferocity never attack—” She stops herself from saying anymore out loud.

I swallow a sob. “Get me to the barn.”

NEMAR PARALLAX

S07Y 113D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

I’m the key to defeating the Ferocity. Solstice must know that. It’s the only reason she kept me alive. It’s the reason the Fire Clan set Terra on fire.

Solstice holds me with both arms, hugging me as we walk from the big oak to the barn. We enter through the back door left open. No longer is the structure filled with stalls and animals. The dirt and hay have been replaced with a dance floor. But the storm shelter is still built into the center of it. There are still storms here, even if I didn’t live.

In this version of my slipstream, Solstice and I never meet. It’s an odd thought as she helps me across the dance floor. Rusty old machinery and tools decorate the walls.

I don’t know how this alternative reality comes about, but I’m guessing Solstice’s mother and mine aren’t an item. Maybe Solstice doesn’t even exist. Maybe her mom never came to Terra.

It doesn’t matter. If I’m dead, there’s no war. No burn. No seven billion killed.

It should stay this way.

Solstice stops as we reach the trap door, easing me down to sit on the floor. While she opens the door, I remove Sable from my scabbard.

“I can see Baer,” she says, “but he’s down there. How are we going to go up by going down?”

Holding Sable by the hilt, I turn the blade toward my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “This is the reset you wanted. It wasn’t you flying into Sol that can change the future, it’s me falling into Nemesis. If I die in the dark star, everyone lives.”

Solstice drops to her knees next to me. “No! This is the future that can’t happen.”

She reaches for Sable, pulling it away from my gut. I fight her, and she knocks me on my side as we wrestle for the sword.

“I want to!” I yell. “Don’t you get it? This is the way. You can all be happy.”

Solstice grabs my left arm, shaking it. Sable drops, landing near the edge of the trap door that lead down to the shelter but also back into the tunnel toward Baer.

“Let me!” I scream.

“You are not yourself,” Solstice pleads.

I roll onto my back, and she climbs onto me, pinning my arms.

“Please,” I say. “This is the way to save everyone.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she says. “I tried. Only little changes can be made. You can’t prevent the big waves from crashing ashore. The most you can do is move a grain of sand. That’s how the slipstream works.”

I’m not convinced. Maybe that’s how it is for her. I know she wanted to save everyone and got stuck for three centuries trying to do that, but this is my wave. It’ll hit the shore differently.

“I can’t let you,” she says. “We need you. That’s why I sent you to sea with your solitaire. We can’t win without you.”

I raise my right hand, reaching for her throat, and with my left hand, I search for Sable. Finding the sword on the floor, I raise it, and she leans to her right, struggling to steal Sable from me. We rock back and forth as we battle, getting nearer to the trap door. My legs slip over the edge. I kick my heels to find a footing. As Solstice’s body slips off mine, she grabs the sword’s hilt, pulling it toward her as she falls. I grab her wrist, for a moment more concerned with saving her than ending my life. But I slip too.

We fall down into the black tunnel as the trap door slams behind us. There are no sides, no floor, and we tumble down.

“I hate you!” I scream. “Don’t you see I can save them?”

“I couldn’t,” she yells in the darkness as we fall.

“That’s it then, isn’t it?” I ask. “Just because you can’t save them doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” she says. “If one of us could have done this alone, I would have let them long ago, especially you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the key,” she says. “You’re the one that holds us together. You’re the strongest.”

She’s making no sense. I might be physically stronger—well, not in this backward slipstream—but she has the most powers.

She’s the Solstice Dayton.

The sun.

Everything revolves around her.

“It takes eight,” she whispers. “And you’re the glue. We can’t do it without you.”

She reaches for me, grasping my hand in the free fall. “We need you to get out. To win. To find Eos.”

I squeeze her hand, allowing my mind to clear.

She’s right. Death by your own hand never solves anything. It just leaves behind a bigger wake of destruction.

“Better?” she asks.

“Better,” I say.

We keep bouncing off the black glass walls, sliding against each other and rolling head over heels, until we are facing the direction we’re falling.

Once my feet aren’t pointing down and my hands are facing up, I realize what’s going on, even if there is no up in space.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Solstice says. “The fourth level is above us.”

She’s right but wrong. I extend my arms. The wind rushes across my face, blowing my hair back.

“We’re not falling,” I say. “We’re flying.”

It’s the last thing I think of before hitting my head and drifting into the darkness.

NARISTA DAWNING

S07Y 113D. Nemar System.

NARISTA

Not every story can be summed up by a tattoo. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but there’s more to me than an eclipse, seven, ram, my mother’s name, and a brand.

I am not my father’s daughter, but I don’t have the same tragic story that Solstice does. The man who married my mother and nursed her back to health as best as he could gave me my siblings and the farm that I adored growing up on. I’m not sure when I learned I was not his. But he claimed me from day one, saying that I was his. I don’t say his name anymore because Papa is all I need to remember him by.

So much of my life is wrapped up in being the daughter of Nemesis of the Nemar and friend of Solstice of the Soleria, that I forget what Papa meant to me.

I am the farmer’s daughter.

I don’t think I’ve ever owned a dress.

Papa taught me how to tie my pigtails. He bought me the jeans overalls and brown boots that would one day be passed down to my younger siblings.

You’d think with my mom being as sick as she was, that much of the household responsibilities would have fallen to the oldest daughter. I don’t remember it that way at all.

My family woke with the sun each day on our farm in Aurora. Winters were harsh, but spring, summer, and autumn were dreamlike. Hazy sun lit the meadows, making them nearly glow, but it was the starlight that most entranced me.

Papa would ask me every morning what I wanted to do to help the family that day. It was important to him that I was not a surrogate mother to my younger siblings. So, we took turns. Sometimes my brothers and sisters made dinner and sometimes I worked in the fields. It was hard work filled with early evenings and earlier mornings.

But at dawn and at dusk, those were the moments Papa saved for me. Naya and Nikaia had their own moments. Papa was generous like that. He called me a child of the night, telling me what my name meant without revealing what he knew about my mother’s origins.

“Narista,” he said to me after dusk on the night of my seventh birthday, “do you know the story of your name?”

“No,” I replied.

“In a faraway land, there lived a duchess—”

“What’s a duchess?” I asked. “Is it like a princess?”

“It’s far better than that,” Papa replied. “Princesses are bound to their domain. Duchesses can do whatever they want.

“In a faraway land,” he continued, “there lived a duchess. She was dark and beautiful. And all who looked upon her were filled with dismay. She wasn’t mean or terrible. She just was all the things her citizens could never be. And they knew she was bound to a fate not of her own making.”

“What did the duchess do, Papa?” I asked.

“She took her own road, leaving her people, often walking alone, but she found the path of true friends. And when she was called upon by those that loved her, she answered, leaving her sisters behind.”

“What did she answer, Papa?”

“I am the shadow, Narista of the Nemar, and I am the darkness so that you may know the light. But know this too. One is not better than the other, for light without dark is nothing, and dark is nothing without light.”

“Papa, am I the shadow?”

“Yes, dear Narista. And without you, no stars would ever shine.”

“And what of the duchess’s sisters?”

“I hope they will be spared that fate,” Papa said, “but their choices are not on you. You are the shadow, my dear, but don’t let the darkness consume you. Black is not the absence of light. It absorbs all light. When you feel the darkness coming, let the sunlight touch you.”

“Sunlight, Papa?”

“The shadow and the light are joined together at dusk and at dawn,” Papa said. “Think of our time together, and there you will know love.”

DAZE

BASALT

S07Y 114D. Nemar System.

BAER

Solstice and Narista have been gone ten days. Second let me hang from Striker for like three of those days. I don’t know that for sure, since time is so messed up, but like a week later, my arms are still killing me.

That’s what I would have expected from Second—killing me. Instead, she sat on the black stairs above where I’d slipped, just staring at me. I tried to make conversation. You know, the usual. Sorry for killing you. But you were secretly the bad guy. Or is it bad girl? It didn’t matter. Maybe things don’t really exist in Narista’s slipstream without Narista. Because after I thought of that, near the third day of Second’s silent treatment, I noticed she was gone. And as soon as she was gone, I was no longer suspended over a hole, hanging on to Striker for dear life.

Once there was no hole, all I could see was stairs.

For the last week—that’s just a guess—I’ve been walking upward on the black glass steps.

This whole thing is probably just some giant illusion, but we’re stuck until Narista remembers where she stashed her boyfriend.

And why did Eos need stashing?

And are the Ferocity onto the whole eight-is-great thing?

They might be because despite the fact Solstice is convinced their ships are peanuts, I’m pretty sure they’re shaped like the infinity symbol. Which is pretty much an eight that someone decided to kick over on its side.

I sit halfway up or halfway down the stairs. I can’t always tell which way I’m going. It’ll be great when the girls are back, even if they laugh when I tell them about the curse of unending stairs.

Beneath me, the stairs fold like they have a thousand times, forming a slide. I get up as fast as I can, and the risers and runners reappear.

No sitting for Baer.

I know I told the girls to leave me behind, and it was definitely the brave thing to do, but I didn’t expect them to do it.

Solstice has like zero empathy. Or she’s really goal-oriented. Either way, I don’t think she even looked back.

I wonder what level three is like. Because the unending stairs up from level two are suboptimal. I swear, I recognize the same specks on the stairs or walls over and over. My gem doesn’t work here, so there isn’t any light, but my eyes have adjusted. At least to the point where the same black spot looks like the same black speck on the cavern wall.

Yesterday, I heard Solstice and Narista arguing. At first, I thought it was from above me, but then I swear they were flying toward me. So, I tried going down, but before I knew it, I was going up.

The girls would probably say there’s no such thing as up in space.

But we’re on a planet in a slipstream in the middle of a singularity. So, gravitational laws don’t really apply, but I am definitely going up the stairs, even if I tried to go back and walk down them.

How do I know?

My thighs are killing me.

I’m feeling the burn in them.

Which means I’m definitely going up stairs and not down.

BAER NETHER

S07Y 115D. Nemar System.

BAER

A opening appears at the top of the stairs. Solstice and Narista fall out of it, except they come at me hands first. They smack into me on the stairs, and we end up a tangled mess of arms and legs. Before I can complain, Solstice plants a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m so glad we found you. What are you doing sitting around?”

“Stand!” I say too late.

The stairs disappear, and we fall down the tunnel, sliding as the angle changes from a slope to a freefall.

I’m a horrible mess, bouncing between the girls, feet first.

They spin around, facing the direction of our fall, arms extended.

“Turn around,” Solstice says to me.

“We’re not falling,” Narista says. She cracks a smile. “We’re flying.”

Leave it to these two to try to make hell fun.

I really just have to go with it.

“How was level three?” I ask. I put my hands on both girls, using their clothing to right myself so that our heads and feet are pointed in the same direction.

“We went farming,” Solstice replies. “How about the second set of stairs?”

“I spent a lot of it with Second who said nothing, and then the rest of the time walking up stairs.”

To my left, Solstice really does look like she’s flying in the tunnel, and to my right, Narista is doing the same thing. I extend my arms out in front of me, doing the whole Superman thing.

“That’s the spirit,” Solstice says.

“Why fall when you can fly?” Narista adds.

I bet falling out of an airplane feels a lot like flying until the ground shows up. That’s why the two—falling and flying—shouldn’t be confused.

Solstice guesses my thoughts. “Either way,” she says, “if we hit bottom, we hit bottom. Might as well do it in style.”

“At this speed,” Narista says, “the impact will kill us either way.”

Only people who have died don’t care about dying. Which should include me because I was buried alive in the Aether pod and was all restored and stuff.

So I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help caring.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll play your flying game, but that doesn’t mean I’m not really scared.”

“So how do we get to level four?” Solstice asks. “I mean, without crashing and proving Baer right.”

Believe me, I don’t what this to be a fall. I’d much rather be flying upward.

Narista pauses, thinking. “I think Baer’s right,” she says. “We’re having too much fun. We’re going to be flying forever if something bad doesn’t happen.” She brushes her hair back. Her black curls can’t seem to stay out of her face. The same thing is happing to Solstice. Her blonde and pink hair is a swirling mess.

“Right,” Solstice says. “And I don’t have any ponytail ties. We can’t seriously expect to live with these hair vortexes forever.” She smiles. “Okay, bring it on, Narista. Do what you have to do.”

“What?” I ask. These two are the worst. Like identical twins, their brains seem unnaturally joined. I know they’re telepathic and all, but I’m pretty sure Solstice has no powers in the dark star singularity.

“Sorry, Baer,” Narista says.

Just like that, I’m overcome with dread. My fingertips turn black, and Nether spreads to my veins. No longer Superman, I feel very mortal. My spirt is broken, and I tumble out of my flying pose into the fetal position. I smack into Solstice, the tunnel walls, and Narista.

Like we’ve just crossed the crest of a rollercoaster ride, we drop suddenly, bouncing off each other. We hit the valley of our descent and despair next before we roll upward. The tunnel narrows, and we slide up, stopping only when the black glass walls turn into stairs. We come to a stop, filled with despair, overcome by Nether.

BOGUS

S07Y 116D. Nemar System.

BAER

“How did you make yourself sick?” Solstice asks.

“Ugh,” Narista groans, sprawled out on the black stairs. “Is this what it feels like?”

“Yes,” Solstice and I reply.

“It’s like every sad thought I’ve ever had is slamming into my brain at once,” she says. “I want to be sick and crawl into bed at the same time. It’s like having the flu after your boyfriend dumped you or your favorite ram died.”

I lift my head off the stairs. My arms are completely black. I feel the disease attack my torso. Soon, the pain and heartache will be too much, and I’ll pass out. “You mean dog, don’t you?”

“She had a ram,” Solstice says. “You know, like her tattoo.”

“Oh. That’s right. Can you dial it back a bit? I’m going to pass out.”

“This is so bogus,” Narista says. “But I think we should get to the top of the stairs first.”

Solstice stands and helps the two of us up, gripping our arms and pulling. “Let’s go,” she says.

I stand, shaking off her grip. Her hand leaves white marks on my black-stained arms. “Ouch,” I say.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ve got no powers in the singularity, but I’m strong.”

“It’s true,” Narista says. “It’s the impossible.”

My legs are still burning from my week-long climb up the unending stairs, so I lean on Ms. Stronger-than-the-rest-of-us.

On Solstice’s other side, Narista leans on her as well. Like with the inking, their skin turns black, infected.

Each step upward is like climbing a mountain.

I look back.

We’ve climbed one step.

There are six more to go.

With each step, I learn another sad part of Narista’s life.

Step one: her mother was always sick.

Step two: her family died at the hands of Jackers while she watched.

Step three: she lived alone through the horrors of the Lincoln tunnels in Nebraska while the Dazed 2.0 took form.

Step four: Second sent her alone into the wild to infiltrate Nadir’s and Solstice’s organizations.

Step five: she killed her best friend to save Jordin, but also Pyrellax.

Step six: she can’t stand being Solstice’s shadow.

Step seven: she just wanted to die.

At the top of the staircase, I reach across Solstice for Narista’s hand. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It can’t be easy.” It’s not that Solstice hasn’t had it bad, or me or anyone else, it’s that I can feel Narista’s pain like it’s my own.

“I can’t go on,” she says. She falls to the ground.

No longer can I hold off the despair. I fall in front of Solstice, holding onto Narista.

Solstice looks down at the two of us. “Really? We’re at the top, idiots. The opening is right there.”

I look up and see the next tunnel leading to the next cavern.

A shadowy figure approaches.

“Get up, you too,” Solstice snaps.

She’s just as infected as me or Narista, but the Nether despair has made her angry, like she can’t waste another second grieving.

She grabs me by the collar and Narista by the jacket, pulling us upward. We hang limply from her hands, unable to move our legs or arms. My vision darkens.

“No,” Solstice moans. “Not you. Anyone but you.” She lets go of me and then Narista, collapsing. She falls between us at the top step.

“What is it?” I croak.

“NV,” Solstice says.

BACK TO SCHOOL

S07Y 117D. Nemar System.

BAER

First of all, I don’t know who NV is. Solstice has never mentioned her. Also, Narista just gave us her seven saddest moments, one for each step. She must have completely forgotten about the time I dumped her or that whole burn-carve thing when Nadir tortured her. So, I’m really confused as I black out.

I open my eyes.

“Baeran Sheridan, is health class too uninteresting to you? Would you prefer I say penis ten times?”

I raise my head off a wooden desk. A long line of drool hangs from the right side of my face to my right hand.

“Nurse Vicky is covering the penis spread,” Solstice jokes next to me. “I asked her to do it this morning.”

“You’re so busted,” Narista says.

I sit up. “Sorry, Nurse Vicky,” I say.

I’m surrounded by teens, twenty in all, sitting at wooden desks with Narista to my right and Solstice to my left. Next to a black and white clock on the wall at the front of the class hangs a sign that reads, Lexington Middle School. On the blackboard below, in large print, NV, I’m guessing, has written Eighth Grade Health Class.

“Where are we?” I whisper to Solstice, even though I’ve pretty much determined we’re back at her old middle school with her favorite teacher who she said she’d never talk about but cries about sometimes in her sleep.

“First period, Baeran,” she says. “Just shut up.”

The bell rings, and students stand.

“Sheridan, Morenos, and Dayton remain behind please,” Nurse Vicky says.

Solstice fiddles with the hilt of her sword like she’s debating using Sunbeams on me. I can feel Striker on my back. And Narista has Sable. The three of us are wearing undershieldcapbosuits, but every other kid has on typical school clothes—jeans and T-shirts.

A good-looking jock stops at Solstice’s desk. “I’ll see you in a bit, Jack,” she says. She touches his hand and smiles.

As he goes off, a skinny blonde girl and a heavier-set girl stop too. “See you at lunch?” the blonde asks.

“Yep. You bet, Bar. You too, Shelly,” Solstice replies.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Detention,” Narista says. “Because of you.”

“Detention?” I ask. “After first period? Shouldn’t we do it after school?”

“Would that make you happy?” Nurse Vicky asks. She sits on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom.

When I don’t respond, Solstice answers, “No, definitely not.”

“You three need to get it together,” Nurse Vicky says.

I shrug.

“I envy you, Baeran,” she adds. “To be young and clueless.”

Nurse Vicky stands. “It was nice seeing you again, Solstice.”

She pulls a letter opener from the desk and stabs it in her left breast.

Solstice hops up, knocking over her chair with her sword. The look on her face tells me she’s just starting to realize something is off and it’s not just the whole stabbing thing.

“Not again,” she says. “I can’t see this again.”

Nurse Vicky falls from the desk to the floor.

Around us, the kids’ desks disappear and the room shimmies, switching from a classroom to a nurse’s office.

“They killed me,” Nurse Vicky groans from the floor. “Two of the away team, Louis and Stevens. The Ferocity knew I knew.”

Solstice kneels next to Nurse Vicky, clutching her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, but I never saw you in my visions after the flames.”

“I died for you,” Nurse Vicky says. “I’m still not sure you’ve earned it. I envy how you can put the memory of me away without emotion or regret. I was cut down for you. That’s no different from you cutting me down.” She gasps. “Make it worth it.”

Solstice looks up from her dead mentor, letting go of her hands.

“The Nether is still with us,” she says. She looks at her hands. Her skin looks normal. “I know we can’t see it, but can you feel it?”

Narista shakes her head. “No.”

“That’s the illusion of despair,” Solstice says. “The shadows linger, kill, and creep. Caught in their hold, you can’t tell how deep.”

“I don’t think there’s any rhyming in the singularity,” Narista says.

She’s right. Solstice hasn’t sung once.

But that’s not important.

“Baer?” another voice calls. “Is that you?”

A second voice says, “It is him. I told you, Lani.”

I step away from the body, Narista, and Solstice, walking toward the classroom exit.

Jordin and Lani are there to greet me.

“Come on,” Lani says. “I’ve got to show you something.”

BYGONE

S07Y 118D. Nemar System.

BAER

Lani punches me in the shoulder. “Where have you been all day, little brother?”

“LexMid?” I reply.

“What?” Jordin asks.

The two girls lead me from the threshold of the classroom to an unfamiliar hallway.

“We’ve got band,” Jordin says. “We need to go downstairs.”

I don’t think I want to go downstairs. I look back, but I can’t see Narista and Solstice anymore.

“See you at lunch,” Lani says, leaving a kiss on Jordin’s cheek. “Don’t be late.”

Jordin smiles. “Juniors. They think they know everything.”

She leads me down the hallway. I stop and read the sign, Portsmouth High School, above a trophy case.

“I don’t want to go downstairs,” I repeat.

“Fine, we’ll take the ramp on the other side of the auditorium,” Jordin says. “Boy, you’ve got the worst case of the freshmens ever.”

“Is that a thing?” I ask.

“Yes. You must be so nervous about the first day of high school, you can’t think straight.”

I never went to high school. I should have gone like seventy-seven years ago, or seven years ago. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m even supposed to count the seventy years Solstice was in stasis, especially since I was put back in the Aether pod and regressed to the time when Solstice left me.

The same thing happened to Narista too.

And we’re supposed to do that to Eos.

“You can’t just erase seventy years!” I snap.

Kids walking next to Jordin and me stop, staring.

“Oh my god,” Jordin says. “You’ve got it bad.”

I lean against the wall near the trophy case. “I need to sit,” I say. “I’m way too old for high school.”

I slip toward the floor, but Jordin nudges me just enough that I end up on a bench between the auditorium doorway and the trophy case.

“I need to get back to Solstice and Narista,” I say.

“The new girls? Definitely not. They’re trouble. And we’ve got band.” She pulls a water bottle from her backpack. “Here, drink this. And chill out.”

“You’re supposed to be speaking Chinese,” I say. “That was your thing.”

“High school is a chance to reinvent yourself,” Jordin replies. “I don’t do that anymore. Plus, Annie hates it. She just wants me to blend in.”

“Annie?” I ask.

“My sister, dummy. She’s got all the same classes as Lani.”

Annie is dead. She froze to death in the superwinter after the Firegale.

Jordin is dead.

Lani is dead.

“This isn’t real,” I say.

“It can be,” Jordin says. She sits next to me. Taking the water bottle from me, she brushes the hair from my eyes. “You just have to want it.” She leans forward and kisses me.

We were together once, after I killed Nadir, but I thought it was Kase. So it didn’t seem real.

I can’t deny I’ve always wondered about this.

Jordin could be happy with me or Lani, that’s the way she is. And I definitely could be happy with Jordin. She’s just so nice and basically problem free.

I’m not sure even if we’re star-crossed lovers or something, but I can’t ever be happy with Solstice. It’s just too much work.

I fall into the moment, returning the kiss. The high school fades away. It’s not gone, but it doesn’t feel like we’re being watched, almost like we’re invisible.

Jordin’s body is so different from Solstice’s. She’s darker-skinned with raven hair. And she has healthy curves. She’s shorter too, and has a scar from a burn that runs down her neck into her shoulder.

“I could have loved you,” I say, not knowing where it came from. I trace her scar with my fingers, kissing her.

“I did love you,” she says. “Like many others did. Everybody loves Baer. Everybody loves a Prime Aetha.” Jordin points. “Like them.”

Solstice and Narista stand in from of us, staring.

I’m definitely not invisible.

And they’re both mad.

BLATANT

S07Y 119D. Nemar System.

BAER

I’m a blatant idiot. As I stand up, Portsmouth High School fades away, yielding to a third school. I’m an idiot, but not so dumb that I can’t do math. If we’ve been to Solstice’s school and then mine, we must be at Narista’s, somewhere in Aurora, Colorado. Wherever that is in the middle of a singularity.

The only thing worse than despair is guilt.

But maybe that’s the key to this level, turning despair into something else.

Guilt still sucks, though. I should go for anger.

The Nether, while still hidden, flows through me, spreading, increasing in potency.

This new strain is contagious too.

“I don’t know why I trust you,” Solstice says. “I don’t know why I fall for you over and over.”

“It says more about you,” Narista says, “than him. We know what he is.”

The comment seems cruel. They kind of thing that should illicit a punch from Solstice directed at her sister, but it doesn’t.

The new high school fills in around us.

I know we’re on the fourth level of seven in a mountain on the planet Never inside a singularity in the star Nemesis, but this school seems so real.

Kids I don’t even know look at me, whispering.

“He did it again.”

“He really is a creep.”

“Isn’t one beautiful girl enough for him?”

“Why does he keep doing that?”

“It’s not real,” I say, more to myself than Narista or Solstice.

Solstice takes a step toward me, and I don’t even try to mount a defense. She punches me, uppercutting my jaw with her left fist.

I fall to the ground.

She stands over me with a hand on the hilt of her sword.

“It felt pretty real to me,” she yells. “You’re lucky I don’t cut off the family jewels.”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” Narista says.

Kids gather around us, laughing in the hallway of Aurora High.

“Don’t you see?” I say, holding up the Aelite—my Aether gem. “It can’t be real. We’re in high school. And yet the three of us, we’ve all got swords. I’m like ninety-one years old.”

“She’s like three hundred,” Narista says.

“I don’t know,” Solstice answers. “Do the seventy years I was in stasis count?”

“They do!” I yell. I try to sit up, but to the laughter of everyone around us, Narista steps on my chest, forcing me down.

“Your point?” Solstice asks.

“My point? Those years did matter. Lani, Jordin, Fusion, Kase. They lived and died. I can’t think of how to get them back. And Eos—he’s still alive, trapped levels above us.”

“You shouldn’t have let the four of them die,” Solstice says to Narista. “I wasn’t around.”

Narista takes her foot off my chest. “You want to join him down there?” she asks Solstice.

“I’m just saying,” Solstice says. “I went into stasis so you could have a happy life. It kind of sucks sleeping for seventy years. The least you could do was try to save our friends.”

“You could have told us that!” Narista yells. She pulls out Sable.

Solstice answers by drawing Sunbeams.

“I think she did,” I interrupt. “Even Cyrelax told us that. He said we’d be treated like royalty and could live for long years. “

Solstice turns on me. “You killed him If you wanted to live so bad, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.”

“How about just letting us die?” Narista asks her. “I didn’t ask to live, and, Baer, you practically had to beg and bribe. You let him be with another girl for seventy years. Do you know he was with your best friend, Robynn, far longer than he ever was with you?”

Solstice raises Sunbeams and then drives the sword downward.

Narista blocks the blow with Sable.

Around us, the high school fades. The students are gone. I don’t think they understood the conversation anyway. The hallway yields to a cavern.

At the far side, I can see another set of stairs.

“There it is,” I say. I sit up, but both girls turn their rage toward me, poking me with their swords.

“Stay down,” Solstice says.

“Yeah,” Narista adds.

“Don’t you get it?” I ask. “Anger is stronger than despair.”

“I think we’ve crossed over to hate,” Solstice snaps. “Like, I hate both of you.”

“Good,” I say. I mean not good, but this is what we need now.

BIO

S07Y 120D. Nemar System.

BAER

My arms turn black. No longer hidden, I can see the Nether coursing through me. “See, Narista?”

She raises her arms. “I’ll shut it down.”

But the next stairway is so far away.

“No! You’ve got to keep it going,” I say. “It’s our only way through this level.”

“I’m really mad at you right now,” Solstice says.

“Hang onto that,” I say, adding, “I’m a jerk. I could love anybody. I’m like a horndog. Except you’re too much work. I could probably have anyone I want instead.”

“I see what you’re doing,” Narista says. She helps me to my feet. “I can see the stairs.”

“You don’t know nothing,” I snap. “You’re just a shadow to her.” I slap Narista’s hand away, getting to my feet myself.

“You’re an ass!” she shouts.

“We should kill him now,” Solstice says.

“Try it.” I pull Striker from the sheath on my back and strike both girls in the legs. Caught off guard, they fall to the cavern floor.

Behind the girls, a black smoke-like shadow creeps toward them from the third set of stairs. But on the other side of the cavern, red light illuminates the ceiling and the stairway up to the fifth level.

I run toward the red light, taunting them. “Neither one of you is half the fighter I am!”

I sprint away, leaving the girls behind. For a minute, I can’t see them, and I wonder if I should slow down.

I’m a boy, after all. A man, actually.

And they run like girls.

From a shadow in front of me, Narista springs forth. Solstice joins her, reminding me of two things. Narista has all her powers in the singularity, and because this is the impossible, Solstice is strong.

Narista leads the charge, releasing blacklight from her hands. “Run like a girl?” she says. “You bet your ass, I do. Fast like a girl!”

Purple lightning strikes me in the chest. I bet my teeth are glowing like the Nemstar solitaire around her neck.

I raise Striker, using it to absorb the shock. The Prime Aether, bearer of the Aether solitaire, can absorb energy. And I still have all my gifts. Gray electricity races around my staff. I step forward, driving Striker down toward Narista.

She blocks the blow.

At the same time, Solstice advances.

Both girls strike, Solstice high and Narista low, like sun and shadow. I block the blows with my staff and then steal a glance at the tunnel behind me. I’m only halfway there.

I keep fending off blows while yielding ground.

But Narista sees my escape. She circles around me, blocking my retreat.

I’m striking a balance, pitting anger versus the Nether. We need both to make it through this level, but I cannot beat Narista at her full strength.

She swings Sable downward. I knock the blow to the side, but such is the force and anger behind it, I fall to my knees.

Solstice advances, hitting Striker, knocking me to by butt.

It’s actually ass. Anytime you’re in the middle of an ass-kicking, butt should not so easily replace it.

I fall to my ass.

Extending my right hand, I release a wave of energy—the Aether—holding the two girls back. It’s not enough just to stop them.

I want to hurt them.

Standing, I sling Striker over my back and then open my left palm, lighting a flame over it.

Solstice gasps.

“What is that?” Narista ask, lowering her guard.

How easily they forget.

I release the flame.

Narista jumps in front of Solstice, shielding her with blacklight.

The flame curves left, right, up, and down, reflecting off the purple field Narista has generated.

I release an Aether shock wave.

Narista falls backward, knocking Solstice over.

She can no longer hold the blacklight.

Maybe she isn’t the strongest here, after all. Granted, she’s holding the illusion and doesn’t even know she’s deploying the Nether, all while trying to remember where she left her boyfriend.

But whose fault is that?

“Baer?” Solstice asks. The anger in her eyes has faded to despair. No longer even, the balance tips toward the Nether. She groans as the infection spreads in her body.

But anger still grips me. “You forget,” I scream. “With each life I take, my powers grow, absorbing those that fall before me.” Nadir stole many gifts from the elementals. Solstice made him that way, but I was born this way. When I killed Nadir, I became all that he had.

“Baer?” Solstice says again.

I slam my foot onto the floor of the cavern, shaking it. Stalactites fall from the ceiling, crashing to the ground around Narista and Solstice. The ground cracks beneath my feet. I have Kase’s strength too. Within the crack, water bubbles upward. I raise the foul blackened water with my right hand and fling it at them.

Solstice and Narista stumble backward.

While still in motion, I add wind by blowing, combining Lani’s gift to Jordin’s.

“I’m the Prime Aether,” I scream.

“Baer,” Solstice pleads. “This is not you.” She holds her hands out in front of her, getting to her knees and then her feet. Narista stands next to her. “You’re the boy in the woods. The one with the yellow dog. You’re my Baer. Son of Cole and Kay, brother to Lani and friend to Jordin.”

I don’t need my bio told back to me. I know who I was. I don’t care anymore.

“Don’t let the anger consume you,” Narista adds.

“The stairs are right behind you,” Solstice says.

As I turn to look, the girls sprint by me.

BAGGAGE

S07Y 121D. Nemar System.

BAER

I can’t leave behind all I’ve ever carried with me. Those aren’t my words. I swear Solstice has said them before. I don’t want to be that guy. I look at my arms. Black Nether races up them, across my shoulders, into my chest.

“Can’t you even catch us, asshole?” Solstice yells from the bottom of the stairs.

I believe I can.

Sprinting after them, I release a blast of Aether, knocking them down. I push off the ground, and it crumbles behind me as I leap. Kase thought too little of her gifts. She barely used them. Never tried to develop them. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. All she ever tried to do was punch. It never occurred to her to push off from the ground with the equal force of a punch.

For a minute, I’m sailing, soaring through the air in a massive leap, enjoying the realization of understanding the gifts I absorbed long ago.

Too long have I let them remain dormant.

Too long have I been content to hold onto my old baggage.

Too high have I jumped, however.

I smack my head on the top of the cavern, breaking off stalactites. My momentum keeps me going, and I roll toward the stairs. When I smack the first step, Solstice and Narista reach down to help me.

My first instinct is to punch them into next week.

My second instinct is to cry.

Anger fades, replaced by despair.

But Narista withdraws the Nether.

On the staircase, between levels, we are in neutral territory.

Solstice grips me, hugging me with all she’s got. “Let the anger go, Baer. You were only doing to combat the Nether. You just got lost in it. We all got lost in it.”

“It’s true,” Narista says. She wraps her arms around me, holding me from the back, sandwiching me into Solstice. “Let it go, Baer.”

No longer angry nor in despair, I’m embarrassed. “I’m fine,” I say.

Narista releases me.

Then Solstice does.

We rest on the stairs, though without sitting. If we sit, they’ll disappear, and then they’ll be flying while I’m falling upside down.

“Prime Aether?” Solstice jokes.

Narista chuckles. “I am man, hear me roar.”

“Was I that bad?” I ask. I know exactly how bad I was. It’s not like the memory is gone. I just want the girls to soften the blow of my rage fight.

“I didn’t realize you still had all those gifts,” Solstice says.

“I forgot,” I say. “Or I didn’t want to remember. I was trying to fight off the Nether, just to get across the cavern. I must have channeled my inner Nadir.”

“Good,” Narista says. “We’re more than halfway through. Over the hump. We’ll need those gifts to take down the Ferocity on the back side of this thing.”

“It would go faster,” I say, “if you could just remember where Eos is.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Solstice says, answering for Narista. “Shade said seven levels.”

“Number five awaits,” Narista says, stepping upward.

BRAIN GAMES

S07Y 122D. Nemar System.

BAER

Shade should have told us we have to make it through seven levels and—and this is a big and—and up six very sucky sets of stairs. At least a day has passed since the last cavern, according to Solstice. She can count seconds and tabulate them until they become days, weeks, months, and years, so I bet she’s right. But for me, and maybe Narista, the last cavern seems like months ago.

“Any idea how many steps to go?” I ask.

“No,” Narista replies.

“Any idea how many steps behind us?”

“No!” she snaps.

“I wasn’t asking you,” I say, taking the next step up.

“Like a hundred thousand,” Solstice replies.

“How many?” Narista asks.

“Ninety-nine thousand, eight hundred, twenty-four,” Solstice says, taking a step. “Wait. Nope. Ninety-nine thousand, eight hundred, twenty-five. Nope, twenty-six.”

“Ugh,” Narista groans.

“What is that—”

Solstice interrupts me. “I don’t know. Fifty miles, sixty miles. I suppose it depends on the slope, and I’m not calculating slopes in my head.”

“We’re going to go crazy,” I say.

No, you’re not. Narista replies. Every staircase, every cavern has a way out or through.

“So, telepathy is your guess for this one?” I ask.

Use thoughts, not words. And yes. That’s my guess. Don’t worry about not being telepathic. I can hear your thoughts.

Actually, I am, I reply. That was another gift I got from Nadir when I absorbed his gifts.

Do you ever wonder if Nadir wasn’t Ferocity, Baer?

Why?

Because he was like you, Baer. Maybe he was Aether and just pretended to be a Ferocity.

Prime Aethers always destroy each other, right? And he absorbed powers like me. And Ferocity teams are always built in groups of seven. With Pyrellax on Terra, when we all thought she was just Pyre, that would have made eight Ferocity.

That doesn’t make sense does it, Baer? Shut up. I’m thinking.

What, Narista?

Sorry. Solstice isn’t telepathic right now inside Nemesis, but that doesn’t mean she can’t think up like a thousand questions.

So Nadir could have been Aether, Narista?

Forget it. Forget I even went there, Baer. But it would explain a few things. How else could he absorb powers like you?

“Will you two stop it?” Solstice yells. “We’re at the top of the stairs.”

She’s right. “I haven’t used my telepathy in a long time,” I say. “I forgot we were even walking. It takes you to a whole other state.”

“I know,” Solstice says. “And the sooner we get up and out, the sooner I can get my gift back. You guys have been mind-talking for like two days.”

“What?” Narista says.

“Ask her,” Solstice replies. She points to the shadows. “Nyx has been waiting for nearly as long.”

BRAVE SISTER

S07Y 124D. Nemar System.

BAER

Nyx sticks her hand through her back, coming out the front. “It never healed,” she says. Nyx died in Solstice’s arms on Key West, after the Ferocity blew a hole through her back.

“Sorry,” I say, “but gross.”

“People who aren’t sorry, always sorry,” Nyx says. “But don’t worry. It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not fair,” Narista says.

“I wasn’t talking to you or about you,” Nyx replies.

“I know,” Narista says. She crouches down to look at the hole in Nyx’s guts. “Solstice didn’t put that hole in you.”

“She just as well could have,” Nyx says.

Solstice shrugs. “I spent twenty-eight decades trying to undo the havoc the Ferocity brought upon Terra. I couldn’t unscrew that. And I’m all out of apologies.”

“Fair enough,” Nyx says. “I’ll let you off the hook. I’m just here to play the part of the brave sister.”

“What’s the next cavern?” I ask. “What’s in the sixth level?”

“I have a message for Eos,” Nyx says. “Will you take it to my brother?”

“Of course,” Narista says. “Anything.”

“Move your feet,” Nyx says.

“That’s a sucky message,” I say.

“That’s not the message,” Solstice says, raising her legs, marching in place.

Nyx points at the stairs, sloping into a slide.

Narista and I follow Solstice’s lead, moving our legs.

“That’s better,” Nyx says as the stairs reappear. “Tell him,” she goes on, “he is the center of it all.”

“Terra Prime,” Narista says, “is in the center of a galactic sphere formed by the Aira System at the top pole, the Wydra System at the bottom pole, and the Soleria, Aetha, Eartarin, Ferocity, and Nemar Systems spaced out along the equator, so to speak.”

“You can tell them about your dream later,” Nyx says. “That’s not what I meant. But make sure you mention how Terra Prime can be repopulated by Aether Prime since those clans are pretty much identical.”

“What do you mean?” Narista asks.

“The eighth clan is not the last,” Nyx replies. “It’s the middle. My brother never had gifts, nor will he ever. And that’s the way it should be. He’s the middle ground between those that loathe their gifts and those that would never give them up.”

“Really?” Solstice asks, continuing to march in place. “That’s what you want to tell your brother?”

“Fine,” Nyx says. “Tell him I love him or something.”

“Something?” Narista asks.

“Yes, or something,” Nyx replies. “We weren’t like that. Not every family is all lovey-dovey. He was cool with me and I with him.”

“Fine,” I say. I can relate to that.

“Okay,” Nyx says. “Next level. Here you go. Baer, you’re going to love this one. You too, Narista. I’m just going to hang out here. Leave all your stuff behind.”

“No weapons?” Narista asks.

“Yep,” Nyx replies. “No clothes either.”

BEGUILE

S07Y 125D. Nemar System.

BAER

The joining is just as wild as I forgot it to be. Nyx grins as we remove our weapons and then clothing. It’s all very funny to her.

“This almost makes dying worth it,” she says. “Almost.”

“It just isn’t a big deal,” Solstice says. “Anybody remember Hali? You don’t know her Nyx, but she’s a Wydran. She kind of looks like a dolphin. She doesn’t wear any clothes at all. Except she’s covered in mucus. That’s not really clothes, but at least it’s something on top of her gray skin.”

“And Corona,” I say, tossing off my socks “Her clothes aren’t even real.”

“In her defense,” Narista says, removing her bra, “her body is a holograph too.”

“I kind of miss them,” Solstice says, pulling off her underwear. “I hope we get to see them soon.”

“Aren’t any of you going to be embarrassed?” Nyx asks, disappointed. “Aren’t Soleria overly modest, or Nemar always angry about compulsorily anythings?”

“They have joinings on Aether Prime,” I say. “That’s where I met my wife again.”

“Solstice was on Aether Prime?” Nyx asks.

“No. I’m sorry, yes. She was for like a second.”

“I’m not his wife,” Solstice says.

“You two aren’t together?” Nyx asks.

“Sure, we are,” Solstice replies, saving me the embarrassment of having to explain that Jordin thing a few days ago. “We just never married.”

“We’ll see if you’re together after this,” Nyx says.

She steps aside, letting us pass into the next cavern, and laughs.

Basically, we walk into a lush field lit by orange light. There’s people everywhere. Talking. Hugging. Kissing. Even joining. Lots of joining. Bodies are linking all around in the field, mostly in groups of two but not always. And the pairings don’t matter. The two cultures that mated via joining, the dazers and the Aethan clan, weren’t hung up on genders. Boys, girls, bi, trans, gay, straight, none of it matters here.

But not everyone is naked.

Like a thousand sets of eyes turn our way.

Look at the cool kids. So confident in their game.

I can almost hear Nyx still laughing.

From out of the crowd, Kase, Fusion, and Robynn emerge.

“We get him,” Kase says. “Solstice, you’re with my brother and his friend.”

I look down. Truit—Solstice’s dwarf friend—emerges from behind Fusion.

All of them are wearing clothes.

“And me?” Narista asks.

“You get nothing,” Kase says. “Wait by the door. Your prize is at the end.”

“I’m going to visit with Truit and Fusion,” Solstice says. “Go ahead and have fun, Baer.”

Fusion removes his shirt and drapes it over Solstice’s shoulders. This slipstream is definitely the impossible—that which can never happen—because Fusion has a shirt. He never has shirts. Solstice smiles at me and doesn’t look back as she walks away into the field grass with her two Fla friends.

“You okay?” I ask Narista.

She sits in the grass, pulling her legs up and crossing her arms, covering as much of her body as possible. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to make me remember, but I’ll wait for the prize, like she says.”

Kase smirks at her. “Just so you know, it wasn’t only Solstice I hated.”

Robynn grabs my left hand and Kase my right, and they lead me away from Narista, Solstice, and the crowd in the center of the cavern.

BESMIRCH

S07Y 126D. Nemar System.

BAER

I totally kissed Jordin when we seemed to be back in school. And I liked it. I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail horribly again. At first I think I’m being a jerk. But Solstice said have fun. Kase and Robynn are talking, trying to tell me things. They’re not exactly fawning over me, but they’re showing interest. And I liked them both. I still do, I guess. Maybe it should bother me more that my girlfriend doesn’t care.

She knows who I am.

She knows who she is.

Maybe that’s being all liberated and stuff.

I don’t foresee a world where we ever marry. Is that the worst or is it enough?

She’s becoming more Soleria every day. I wonder if—when— this is over, the war and all, if she’ll even still be into men or love or me.

“Baer?” Robynn asks. “Are you with me?”

We were married for nearly seventy years. Is that right? I don’t even know anymore. I do know most of my life has been spent with Robynn, from the time I was twenty-one until I laid down in the Aether pod.

Solstice is just the ex-girlfriend who keeps popping up.

Robynn is my wife.

“Do you think I could have this time with Robynn?” I ask Kase.

“Figures,” she snaps. “I wasn’t good enough to be your queen in Arnac City. Why did I think you’d give a shit when I was dead?”

“Ugh. It’s not that,” I say.

Kase bursts out laughing. “Dude, don’t flatter yourself. I was just messing with Solstice and Narista. They’re still the worst. Fusion’s my guy. And he’s not into Solstice, not any more than I would be into you. Which is like nothing.” She gives me a hug. “That Nyx is pretty funny. Put some clothes or not. But enjoy your time with your wife. It won’t happen again.”

“Thanks,” Robynn says. To me, she adds, “Kase’s the best.”

Robynn means that literally. Her best friend during all those years on Terra was Kase. Solstice doesn’t know it, but when I was with Robynn, Kase with Fusion, and Narista with Eos, we had great times, for like decades. I don’t bring it up because she went into that sacrificial sleep thing in her pod to buy us some happiness, but we were happy. Maybe that’s the point.

Kase leaves us, and I don’t speak for a minute.

“Sit,” Robynn says. “At least then you’ll be covered up.” She sits in the meadow grass and lays out a coat. “Sit on this. It won’t tickle so much.”

I put my bare butt on the coat.

“You should just leave thoughts of her behind,” Robynn says. “I love Solstice too. She’s like the little sister I never had.” She grabs my hands. “But she’s with her friends, and you’re with your wife.”

“Where are you now?” I ask. “Will you remember this when you go back to where you came from?”

“I will. Death is not what you think it is, nor is it this. One day, you and I will be reunited again.”

“Is there really a place where the three of us can exist and be happy for each other?” I ask.

“There can’t always be three in a marriage of two,” Robynn says. “And you forget, the royal houses of the Nemar and Soleria are blessed with near endless life. Sure, they can be killed, but I don’t think that will be the way of things, not for those two. Not for the last members of their clans. The universe seeks balance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You will be with me long before you are reunited with her. If she ever joins you in the next life, it’ll be beyond your memory of her.”

“How do you know that’s true?” I ask.

“It is, but it doesn’t have to be,” she says. “It’s what gets me through the longing. The waiting for you.”

“Can I kiss you?” I ask.

“You don’t have to ask, my love.” She places both hands on my cheeks and pulls me closer.

“Wait,” I say. “Are you mad that I’m still alive?”

“They can’t save the universe without you,” Robynn says. “Just remember, you and I have our own story together, a life apart from the Clan Wars, and that I am waiting.”

A wave of warmth rolls over me, and I do the best thing I can possibly do for her, for us. I don’t compare the moment to anything else.

I lean forward, and we kiss.

BREED

S07Y 127D. Nemar System.

BAER

When I return to the top of the stairs, Narista is waiting. No one has talked to her as far as I can tell, and she hasn’t moved. Robynn walks by my side, holding my hand. I’ve got a shirt tied around my waist, giving me a little cover.

Seeing Narista alone reminds me just how out of balance the solitaires are and the importance of finding Eos.

Solstice arrives a few minutes later with Fusion and Truit. She hugs them both and plants kisses on their cheeks. “I’ve missed you both so much,” she says.

“I’m happy with Kase,” Fusion says, “and Truit. So don’t worry about us.”

She runs her hands along his gray face. “It never went away, did it?”

“The Daze will never be gone,” he replies. “I think that’s why Kase and I would have never worked as bearers, not for long anyway. The dazed are outside the clan system and yet still part of it all.”

“What does that mean?” Solstice asks.

“Nothing that you would understand here or now,” Truit replies.

The dwarf and the dazer squeeze Solstice’s hands, and then they depart, walking toward Kase in the meadow deeper in the cavern.

Solstice turns to Robynn. “Are we good?”

“Will you protect him?” Robynn replies.

“With everything I have,” Solstice says.

Robynn releases my hand and hugs Solstice. “I know others won’t understand, but our time with him”—she looks at me—“does not overlap. I will love him no less when he returns to me, and you should love him no less when he is with you.”

Solstice smiles at Robynn and then me. “That’s a sweet deal for Baer. But I suspect he’s the only male I can truly ever love.”

“You are the only girl I can love,” Robynn replies.

“We are both Sun Clan,” Solstice says. “It would be natural.”

Robynn squeezes Solstice tighter. “I don’t deny that, but clans have no meaning here. All of us along this journey are not here because we believe in clans, but because we believe in you, Baer, Narista, and the others to come.”

Both girls glance at me and then they kiss.

I look away.

It’s not a moment meant for me. I wonder if I will always be torn between them. But I know the answer. Yes. But if they can find peace, so can I. Without me, they would be together. It just reminds me there is more than one match for every person.

I’m not sure that’s very romantic, but it’s realistic.

I get the feeling my girlfriend and wife love each other more than they love me. That’s probably because it’s true.

Robynn hugs Solstice a final time, and then me. She departs with a kiss, meeting Fusion, Truit, and Kase deep in the meadow of the cavern. As far as the eye can see, there are groups of people, joining but also talking in the meadow.

“Did you learn anything?” Narista asks me and Solstice.

We both shake our head no. We might have about ourselves, but not the mission.

Nyx returns, walking into the field behind Narista, likely from the tunnel entrance—one we cannot see. She has our clothes and returns them.

“Sorry,” she says. “That was completely unnecessary, but humor is in short supply in here.”

As we dress, Narista asks, “What is this place?”

“Some say it’s Lust or Neros,” Nyx says. “I can see that with the joinings, anyway. But I also think it is a place for lost love or love that will never bloom or even for love to be reunited.”

“How does this help us?” I ask.

“Narista?” Nyx asks. “What have you learned?”

“Only what you told me when we arrived,” she says, securing Sable and its scabbard to her waist. “Terra Prime can be repopulated by the Aether Prime since those clans are pretty much identical. And the eighth clan is not the last, it’s the middle. Eos never had gifts, nor will he ever. And that is the way it should be. He’s the middle ground between those that loathe their gifts and those that would never give them up. And also, to lie and tell him you love him or something.”

“Correct,” Nyx says.

“Where’s the stairs to the next level?” Solstice asks.

“The stairway is on the far side of the cavern beyond the meadow,” Nyx says. “But I’m sure you know that. That you must cross each level to ascend.”

“Easy enough,” I say. “We just need to avoid the joinings.”

“A storm is coming,” Nyx says. “The time for safe passage has passed.”

The orange glow of the cavern has faded, yielding to dusk as we talked.

“Someone just turned out the lights,” I say.

“You should’ve have told us that before it was too late,” Narista says.

“And deprive Solstice and Baer of the knowledge they need?” Nyx asks. “I find that unwise. They need to know how to balance their love. To separate it from lust so that it doesn’t consume them. There is happiness beyond what they feel for each other. They need to know that.”

The universe seems hell-bent on telling me that Solstice and I don’t belong together, even offering each of us plausible ways to find happiness apart from each other.

“Follow the storm,” Nyx says as she walks away. “It will only be as unsettled as what you take with you.” She fades in the field behind us, back toward the stairs we used to get to level five.

Lightning crackles ahead of us, lighting up the dusk in the cavern.

“Let’s go,” Narista says. “Let’s follow the storm before it gets worse.”

I look back toward where Robynn was but am unable to find her again. My heart sinks.

Lightning strikes ahead of us, connecting stalactites with stalagmites. I don’t know how tall the cavern is, but it’s far lower than the sky would be. Gray electricity jumps between my fingertips, calling to the discharges ahead.

BLACKLIGHT

S07Y 128D. Nemar System.

BAER

The beginning of the end of the world started with lightning. Portsmouth, New Hampshire, my hometown, was ground zero for the Ferocity attack. I was at ground zero. It felt a lot like this level. Lightning flashes around Narista, Solstice, and me in the level five cavern. Nyx called it Neros. Level four was NV as in envy, but also Solstice’s favorite teacher. Level three was the Nettle. And two was Needwant, and one, Narciss.

“Deadly sins,” I say.

“What?” Solstice asks.

“You know,” I say, “like from church.” I nod at Narista, “The Morenoses were Catholic, right? Your family was Italian.”

“My dad and brothers, yes,” she replies.

“Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, and now Lust.” I say.

“What do the clans have to do with seven sins?” Solstice asks. “I’m not religious anything. Neither is the universe. Nor are the clans.”

“Seven levels…” Narista says.

We stop for a moment, but lightning crackles too close, illuminating the darkness, reminding us to keep moving.

“This journey,” Narista adds as we keep moving, “is more about me than the clans. It’s about recalling my memories to find Eos. Maybe I’m just filtering things through something my dad taught me and my siblings as kids.”

“See?” I say. “It’s her mind.”

“What’s next after this then?” Solstice asks.

“Excess?” I say.

“Gluttony,” Narista says. “That’s what they called it.”

“NXS,” Solstice says.

“What?” I ask.

“All the levels start with N,” she replies. “NXS seems right.”

“Oh. I get it,” I say, saying the letters in my head.

“And level seven?” she asks.

“Sloth.”

“Nova,” she says. “It can mean no go, but also a star blowing up.”

“That’s actually pretty good,” Narista says. “Let’s hope it’s neither.”

Ahead, the storm intensifies. Several bolts strike along the path worn into the meadow. Smoke curls above the impact points.

“This reminds me of day zero,” I tell the girls. “When the Firegale sparked back home. Why do you think the lightning hit in Portsmouth first? Why not go after you or Narista?”

“I’m not sure the Ferocity were going after you specifically,” Solstice says. “More like, they were trying to herd us together.”

“Guys,” Narista says. She points to the smoke near the last strikes. “The fields.”

The meadow grass sparks. Flames burn low, spreading out.

“Run!” Narista says.

Lightning crackles overhead and strikes near us.

I throw up my arms. Too close.

Another bolt slams into the cavern floor as we run.

“Faster,” I yell.

Lightning hits again.

And again.

The fire spreads, blocking us. Devoid of any moisture, this level swiftly goes up in flames. The field turns black. Not satisfied with that, the fire comes alive, racing across the cavern floor until it joins stalagmites with stalactites, forming funnels.

Lightning hits again, feet from us, knocking us down, while the flames encircle us.

I reach for Solstice.

There’s no way out. We tuck our heads together, closing our eyes and waiting for the flames to take us.

Narista stands over us, raising her hands above her head. For a minute I think she will be the first to die. But then she releases purple blacklight. She waves her hands, forming a semicircular shield over us.

“Get up you too,” she says. “I see the stairs.”

BLACKSHIELD

S07Y 129D. Nemar System.

BAER

“What do you call that?” Solstice asks, standing up.

“It’s just the blacklight,” Narista replies. “Like when I form balls over my hands. It’s just bigger and hollow.”

“How long can you hold it?” I ask as lightning strikes the top of the dome and flames lap at the cavern’s base. The lightning dissipates, but Narista stumbles.

Solstice put her arms around Narista’s waist, steadying her. “I think I know why Nyx made you sit still.”

I grab Narista from the other side, supporting her.

Her arms falter, and for a second, she lowers them. The shield blinks, glitching. Flames rush into the void, but Narista reforms the shield, saving us.

“Baer, can you add to it?” Solstice asks. “I’ve seen you two combine powers before.”

“Not like the old days,” I say.

“That battle on the bridge before Forgotten City,” Narista gasps. She stumbles again, and the shield falters.

Solstice pushes between me and Narista, putting her arms around us. “You guys keep the shield up and I’ll keep you up.” She squeezes her right arm against my rib cage. “Do it now, Baer. She’s weakening.”

I raise by hands. At first, I’m not sure what to do.

“Imagine the circle, the blackshield,” Narista croaks.

I look past Solstice to Narista. Her eyes are closed, and Solstice is supporting all her weight.

“You really are strong in the singularity,” I say.

“But powerless,” she snaps. “Now, Baer!”

I release the Aether, adding it to the blacklight. Like Narista’s Nemstar, the Aelite gem glows around my neck. Energy drains from me, forcing me to search for any sparks of it in the depths of my body.

Solstice lifts me, balancing me out with Narista on the other side.

“Close your eyes, you two,” she says. “And make that shield smaller. You can pull it in at least a foot all the way around. I’ll make sure we get to the stairs.”

We make the blackshield smaller, contracting it. The flames lap closer, warming our space. Lightning keeps striking above, zipping around the dome, searching for ground.

“What are we looking at?” I ask.

“Scorched earth, lightning, flames on the ceiling, flames filling the cavern,” Solstice says. “Just a typical day on Never, or Terra during its fall.”

Narista moans. “How far?”

“Just keep the shield up and those eyes closed,” Solstice says.

Between us, Solstice falters too, letting us down for a second. “I’ve got it,” she says before we can ask.

Lightning hits the blackshield, shocking my arms.

“We’re going to run now,” she says. “We’re close.”

She picks Narista and me completely off the ground and jogs forward. I no longer have the strength to open my eyes, but I can feel Solstice’s lungs heave, each breath labored.

“Almost there,” she says.

Lightning strikes the dome again. Narista screams.

“Hold it just a bit longer,” Solstice pleads. She stumbles, falling forward. As she collapses, she throws Narista and me.

The shield falters as we hit the stairs, Narista at my side.

Solstice falls short. Lightning strikes, hitting her. She cries out in pain as my eyes go black.

BLOOD

S07Y 130D. Nemar System.

BAER

“Wake up,” Narista gasps. “Help me.”

I open my eyes. The stairs to level six have collapsed, forming a slide. At the bottom, Narista holds me up, on the slope, while trying to pull Solstice from the Neros cavern. She has her left foot planted on the floor and her right arm wedged against my ribs as I lean into her head and shoulder.

“Dammit, Baer. Get up, get moving.”

I remove Striker from the sheath on my back and jam it into the walls on either side of the tunnel. Pulling myself up, I lift my legs, placing one foot in front of the other. “Okay, now you,” I say.

Grabbing hold with her right hand, Narista uses my legs to pull herself up. With her left, she drags Solstice from the cavern and up the slope.

“Hang on to me,” I say, “and march in place.”

Narista follows my lead, lifting her feet while holding onto me.

It’s like trying to run up a slide on a playground while supporting another kid and a bag of rocks.

Solstice is the rocks.

The stairs don’t activate.

From the top of the tunnel, dark liquid flows downward.

“Ugh,” Narista says. “What is that?”

“Get her up,” I say. “Or take my place up top.”

“Solstice, we need you to walk too,” Narista says.

She doesn’t respond.

Narista activates the Nemstar. She’s running out of energy and it barely glows. “She was hit, Baer,” she says. “Her cloak is all scorched in back.”

“Lightning,” Solstice moans.

“Stand up,” I yell. “I can’t hold this for long.”

Solstice pulls herself up, using Narista as a ladder. She transfers her weight from Narista to me, climbing until she is standing next to me, gripping Striker.

“Move your feet,” I say.

Narista joins me, hanging onto the other end of the staff. The three of us step in place as we lean into the stick.

The flow of liquid increases as the stairs form up.

“What the hell is that?” Solstice asks.

“You don’t want to know,” I say.

“Blood,” Narista says.

The stairs solidify underneath us, transforming from a slide to risers and runners.

I pull Striker from its anchor points on the tunnel walls, searching for another spot to wedge it higher up.

We advance upward on the stairs, using their swords and my staff, fighting against the increasing downward flood of the dark red liquid.

At the top of the stairs, a headless man stands, blood spouting from his neck like a fountain. In his right hand, he holds a crown, and in his left, a gray head.

He speaks no words as we clamber upward.

At the top, blood rains down on us from his neck. He steps aside and tosses the head, down a ramp.

At the landing, we peer over the edge. The body tumbles down the stairs we just climbed, and the head falls into a pit of skulls.

“I guess we’re going down,” I say, pointing to the pit.

“So much for a guide,” Narista says.

“He wouldn’t help us anyway,” Solstice says.

Narista shines the Nemstar downward. Staring up at us from the pile of skulls is Cyrelax’s head.

BEYOND NXS

S07Y 131D. Nemar System.

BAER

“This looks familiar,” Narista says. “I almost remember being here with Eos.”

“It means we’re getting closer,” Solstice says. She smiles and steps beyond the landing, sliding down toward the skulls. She lands feet first in them, and they crack beneath her feet.

“Ugh!” she yells.

“I know,” Narista says. “Skulls, so gross.”

I dump blood out of my boots. My pants are soaked. “Who cares about skulls? Is it wet down there?”

“No,” Solstice says. “It’s not that. He’s talking.”

I hop over the edge, sliding down to meet Solstice. Narista jumps right behind me.

“Who’s talking?” I ask a moment after landing in the pit of skulls. It’s like walking on thousands of kickballs. No, bowling balls. And it’s nearly impossible to hold my balance.

Solstice holds up the gray head by the hair, between me and Narista. “Cyrelax is.”

“Not to him,” Cyrelax says. “Not unless he can reattach me to my body.”

“We lost that on the other side,” Narista says.

“You know how long it took to find that?” Cyrelax asks. “It’s like impossible to move around like this.”

“Help us get to the next cavern, level, or whatever,” I say, “and I’ll gladly toss you up there.”

“Fine,” Cyrelax says. “I can’t believe I need the help of Terrans.”

Narista takes the head from Solstice. She holds it up, looking underneath. The neck is cut clean. “You swung right through him, Baer,” she says.

“We were negotiating,” Cyrelax says. “It wasn’t very diplomatic.”

“Ferocity don’t negotiate,” Solstice says.

“Fine,” Cyrelax says. “That’s fair. Who won the war?”

“Everyone lost,” she replies.

“Hmm. Okay. Who’s leader of the Fire Clan now.”

“Your sister,” I reply.

“I don’t think so,” Cyrelax says. “We are a patriarchy.”

“The Ferocity were a patriarchy. Pyrellax is empress.”

“That won’t do,” Cyrelax says. “That won’t last.”

“Do you want to rejoin your body or not?” I ask.

“Cross the sea of skulls, find the cavern, avoid the gluttons, blah, blah, blah.”

“What?” I ask.

“Must be the universal translator,” Cyrelax says.

“You’re not wearing one,” Solstice says. “Or a shirt. Or a torso.”

“Bad signal from the other side then,” he says.

Narista tosses the head to me. “See if you can get him to smarten up.”

I place Cyrelax on a pile of skulls.

“Explain ‘blah, blah, blah,’” I say.

“No,” he replies.

“Got any Eclipse shawl in your sling sack?” I ask Solstice.

“You should punch him,” Narista says. “He bled all over me.”

Like mine, her pants are soaked, and she’s also got blood splotches all over her shirt.

Solstice looks into her sling sack. “No, just my Lyricbook. No cat fur.”

“How about a strand of hair?” I ask.

She pulls out a pink one and hands it too me.

I fold it several times, holding the strand between my index finger and thumb.

“What do you have in mind?” Solstice asks.

“I’m not going to punch him,” I say. “But I will make him itch.”

I wave the hair under Cyrelax’s nose.

He lasts like seconds before breaking into a sneezing-coughing fit. With each discharge, the head flops around on the ground, bouncing against the skulls. “Don’t. Not anymore,” he pleads. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

BLEAK

S07Y 132D. Nemar System.

BAER

Some people have the stomach to burn entire planets, but as soon as they don’t have stomachs, they can’t even handle being tickled.

“Get me a flame,” Solstice says.

“What?” I ask.

“Open your palm and do your flame thing.”

I open my fingers and imagine a flame. Fire appears over my right palm.

“I don’t care what he says,” Solstice states. “I saved his sister. It did nothing. Burn him. Kill him again.”

“Do it!” Narista shouts.

If anybody deserves a double death, it’s this dickhead.

Cyrelax orchestrated the death of 7.7 billion people. He burned Terra, and in his recklessness unleased the daze on the survivors. Not content with that, he hunted the seven Elementals until we were cornered on Key West. In the final battle, where humans, elves, dwarves, and dazers united to form an army of five hundred thousand, only fourteen survived. While the last of humanity—Kyra, Eos, Eryn, an unknown child, Kaylani, and Kason—escaped with my dog, Selene, Solstice, Lani, Jordin, Fusion, Kase, Narista, and I stood against the invaders from space. We were powerless when that final battle began. But by combining the seven solitaires in the array at the Sunrise Beacon in Key West, we activated similar beacons across America and the world, and we used sunlight to create weather and push aside the ash clouds that had blanketed Terra.

In the end, I beheaded Cyrelax for his crimes and the Ferocity was beaten back, their invasion force destroyed. In time, Terra healed, and with the exception of Solstice and Pyrellax, the survivors made a life for themselves in Austin.

I lift Cyrelax’s head, the flame still burning above my right palm. “My parents are dead because of you. My home is gone. My country is no more. My world is empty. Your death was too quick, too merciful. I should not have acted so fast.”

“Start with the hair and then his nose,” Solstice says.

“You’ll burn,” I tell him.

“Wait,” Narista says. She looks at the cliff above us and then starts wading through the skulls. “I’m going to get his body. We should burn that first. Make him watch.”

That’s a perfectly reasonable idea.

Or we could channel that energy and try to climb the opposite wall of the skull pit so we can get up to the Plains of NXS.

Gluttony awaits, after all.

“I told you,” the head yells, “I’ll tell you anything.”

“Cyrelax even lies about not being a liar,” Solstice says. “We can’t trust him.”

“True,” Narista says. “He’s useless.”

I look at Cyrelax’s head in my one hand, the flame in the other. This is just some trick of the fifth stairway or the sixth level above us. I don’t think I care.

“I don’t want to waste any more time on him,” Solstice says.

“Right,” Narista says. “Forget about the body. It’ll probably burn in the field fire and lightning storm in the Neros level.”

“No deal,” I say to Cyrelax.

I place the head amongst the skulls and light it on fire.

Cyrelax screams.

We should care.

We don’t, even though it’s cruel.

Cruel men deserve cruel deaths. Without consequences, there is no deterrence. You just can’t make deals with evil.

The three of us move closer to the skull, watching Cyrelax scream as he burns. The flesh and muscle melt off the bone.

It seems fitting to add another skull to the pit of skulls.

“I’m not going to feel guilty about this,” Narista announces.

“Me either,” I say.

“Don’t look at me,” Solstice says. “It was my idea.”

The three of us stand still a moment, waiting for something horrible, like the bottom to drop out of the skull pit. Instead, the entire cavity moves upward like an elevator. Skulls fall in all directions off the lift, between the platform and the pit walls, as we rise up.

When only one head remains—that of the former Ferocity leader—Solstice kicks it. The skull explodes into a puff of smoke, turning Cyrelax into what he loved most: ash.

His cremated remains float downward, staining the three of us a final time.

The lift stops at the top.

The way we came is blocked, but the way forward is clear to the sixth level.

Three tables are set up before us in the next cavern.

We rush toward the tables.

The lift lowers behind us, and the skulls fall back in from the sides.

At the first table there is water, celery, carrots, strawberry jam, saltines, and chicken supsdelite.

BREAKFAST

S07Y 134D. Nemar System.

BAER

I’ve seen Solstice puke many times. She was pretty clear a while back that it wouldn’t be happening ever again. But now, after sitting at the first table for a day, I wish she could.

No matter how much we drink or eat, the food at the table never goes away.

We should have never taken one bite.

Everyone knows you don’t eat in a place designed to punish gluttony.

And the longer we sit, the farther away the next table gets.

We’re still at table one. Two is floating away, and we can’t even see three.

And we can’t stand.

Our asses are literally stuck to our chairs.

We can’t puke.

We can’t pee.

We can’t poop.

And the longer we sit, the more the food piles up.

“I can’t,” Solstice says. “I can’t even eat my way out of a tiny bag of baby carrots. How are we going to get out of this?”

“It’s true,” Narista says to me. “She told me once she rationed an apple and a few veggies over two days at a weekend camp for fatherless daughters.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Really,” Solstice says.

“Fatherless camp is so cruel,” I say.

“Daddyless Daughter Camp,” she corrects me.

While we talk, the food piles up on the table. It spills over onto the cavern floor, mounding up around our ankles.

“The Plains of NXS are aptly named,” I say.

“This is my worst nightmare,” Solstice says, gagging.

We can’t puke but we can gag.

Dry heaving is way worse than puking in my book.

“I’d rather carry you two again through the flames and lightning,” Solstice says.

“What if we—” Narista stops midsentence. She holds her stomach, then farts.

For like five minutes.

We can’t poop but we can fart.

I don’t even want to know what the equivalent for puke/gag or poop/fart is for pee.

Because if the answer is like kidney stone, I think I’ll probably die.

“The next table is getting farther away,” Solstice says, “and this one is getting fuller.”

“We’re going to suffocate in all this,” Narista says. The food that has fallen off the table has now piled up to the bottoms of our chairs.

Saltines are flying out of sleeves like cards from a deck. Mountains of strawberry jam are spewing red sludge off the table onto my legs. Water sprays like a fountain from a pitcher and three glasses. And the carrots and celery are having babies like popcorn popping. Pop. Pop. Carrot. Carrot. Celery. Celery. Pop. Pop. And the chicken supsdelite—once our favorite flavor but so not anymore—is flowing into the air like a bag of flour slammed onto a kitchen counter.

So much food piles up so fast, it mixes around our chairs, forming a slurry.

Apparently, level six is environmentally conscious because only the food duplicates, not the original packaging or place settings.

“Clear the table,” Solstice says. “See if you can knock it all off and find out where it’s coming from.”

We can’t move our legs or butts, but our arms can nearly touch at the center of the round table.

“I don’t get this,” I say. “This whole singularity is some sort of Narista illusion right? Some impossible future.”

“Kind of,” Narista says, pushing handfuls of food from the table.

“Then why the food?” I ask. “Aren’t these levels like things that bug you or something? Things that you couldn’t resolve.”

“Maybe,” she responds.

“Why food then?” I remove another handful and toss it into the food sludge, then look over the edge of the table. I can’t see my legs anymore.

“She doesn’t want to be like me,” Solstice says.

Narista nods, yes.

Oh. Oops. Nobody wants to be the too-skinny recovering bulimic, including Solstice.

“Okay,” I say. “Sorry. How do we get out?”

The food slurry rises above the table’s edges.

“We wait,” Solstice says. “And we don’t eat anymore no matter what. I don’t care what’s at table two. As soon as the sludge rises to chest height, we’ll be buoyant, and we’ll just float away.”

“How can you be so sure?” Narista asks.

“There’s a current,” Solstice says.

The food slurry rises to my ribs. I look over my shoulder. The food is flowing opposite the direction of the skull pit.

“Okay,” I say. “But we got some problems. My butt is still stuck. The second table is farther away. And food slurry flows downhill.”

“There’s no up or down in space!” both girls yell.

The food sludge rises above my chest, but we’re still stuck. Despite being surrounded by all this, the jam still smells pretty good. And I bet it would be so good on saltines. Like it’s the perfect cure for a swamp apple cider hangover, or four or five weeks underground, or an epileptic seizure.

The sludge reaches our shoulders.

“Don’t!” Narista yells.

“What?” Solstice asks.

“He’s hungry again,” she says. “I can hear the idiot’s thoughts.”

“Well, we’re not floating yet,” I say. The food sludge reaches our chins. “We need a new plan.”

“Eating—that’s the old plan,” Solstice says. “We have a new plan. Just hang on a little longer.”

It doesn’t matter what she thinks. It’s too late anyway.

I lick the slurry, tasting the jam and saltines.

“Baer!” Solstice yells.

The slurry flow doubles, rising over our heads. The chairs break loose, and I fall backward, drowning.

BURGER BAR

S07Y 135D. Nemar System.

BAER

I gasp, emerging downstream. At the surface of the food slurry, I float on my back. Saltines, carrots, strawberry jam, celery, powdered supsdelite, and water form a pyroclastic flow. Basically, that’s lava and gas mixed together traveling at a high speed. Except in this case, the molten food is the lava. Underneath me, the chair has broken away and my legs are free. The cavern ceiling is twice as close as it was when we sat at the first table. The slurry flows around the stalactites.  

“Baer!” Narista yells.

“Where are you?” I shout. I roll onto my stomach. I’m not sure why the food is heating up. Maybe it’s friction, or the flow rate is fast enough for things to get hot.

That doesn’t make sense. Water flowing downhill from a mountain doesn’t get hotter. Does it? Isn’t that why they call it a cool mountain stream? Because it stays cool.

“I got him, Solstice,” Narista says. “Start swimming,” she says to me. “Make for the nearest island. And stop thinking about why it’s so hot. We already figured that out.”

I swim in the slurry, looking up, gasping for air. The consistency of the flow is changing.

Is that a hamburger?

A taco floats by.

Then a beer.

Island number two, once table number two, is erupting a few hundred feet downstream. It’s the kind of island built for me.

There’s hot food. That’s why everything is hotter.

I know already, before crashing on the island’s shore, there will be whiskey too.

When I come ashore at table two, Narista and Solstice are there to help me up.

“Don’t even think about it,” Narista says.

Whiskey is flowing from bottles at the top of the food island. Hamburgers, tacos, and pizza slices roll down the sides. We have to climb to stay above the flow.

“Nothing goes in your mouth,” Solstice says.

“Or what?” I ask.

“We’ve already agreed…” Narista starts.

“To shove our socks in your mouth,” Solstice finishes.

They’re wrong.

I climb up on the island. I fake left and dive right. I just want to get under the Jack Daniels geyser. As I get in position and open my mouth, an avalanche of burgers hits me. I can smell the charcoal. I bet they’d be awesome flame grilled.

Before either girl can scream, flames form over my hands and the whiskey ignites.

BACK TO EARTH

S07Y 136D. Nemar System.

BAER

I never get my burger. Nor any whiskey. Tacos and pizza are out too. It’s not fair. Solstice got all her favorite foods.

The girls and I fight for like a day, wrestling on the slopes of Mount Iwannatakabiteaya. The whiskey fires spread, ruining all of the tacos and most of the burgers. And the pizza cheese chars, flowing right into the pyroclastic flow.

It’s not until I hit my head on a stalactite that Narista and Solstice can reason with me.

You’d think the whiskey fires would have brought me around.

They didn’t.

Vaporizing whiskey just makes it smell more.

If Solstice has a hate relationship with food, then I have a lust for it.

I wonder what table three will be like as Narista and Solstice throw me from the top of Baer’s Favorite Foods Island.

We flow downstream at twice the rate of yesterday, lying on our backs. The ceiling of the cavern is so close, we can no longer swim.

“I hate cheese!” Solstice yells. “I was perfectly fine swimming in strawberry jam.”

“You had to ruin it, Baeran Sheridan,” Narista adds.

I have to admit the river of food is twice as gross now. Cheese mixes with whiskey and burger grease. We still see a few saltines and carrots once in a while, but most of them have sunk.

Midway through the third day in level six—NXS—the river changes, and not for the better.

I’m pretty sure the prime ingredient in farm fresh produce is organic fertilizer.

Eggs float by.

Then goat cheese.

And lots of vegetables.

Table three is for Narista. It’s all organic. And the table is long gone. Food just comes flying out of the cavern river.

And Solstice is into the veggies too, for sure.

“Don’t,” I say.

“You got your whiskey,” Narista says.

“Yeah,” Solstice adds. “Vegetables are good for you. How can that possibly be bad for you?”

She’s got a point, and the grass-fed beef is cooked to perfection, floating on a bed of lettuce with fingerling potatoes.

I take one bite.

Okay, like twenty-four.

But so do Solstice and Narista.

The pyroclastic flow reaches speeds faster than a car on a highway. At first, we try to hang onto stalactites, but they break off.

By the time we have our last bite, the cavern is full.

I hold my breath and close my eyes as I’m swept under. The girls hang onto me.

We float below the avalanche of food until we are washed up on the final staircase. As soon as we hit the stairs, they fold, forming a slide. Gasping for air, I help the girls climb. I jam Striker into the sides of the tunnel, while Narista and Solstice use Sable and Sunbeams.

We know the drill and move our feet until the steps reappear.

As soon as we take our first real step, the food rots on our bodies.

I look at both girls. “You smell like shit.”

“Don’t look back,” Narista says.

Solstice looks back. I don’t have to look, but she always has to look.

She always looks.

“The cavern,” she gasps. “It’s all brown. It’s full of…”

I can’t hold it down a second longer and I vomit on my feet. On the other side of Solstice, Narista throws up too.

Solstice cannot be sick. She doesn’t even try. She must know that in the singularity of impossibilities, she is neither bulimic nor can she puke.

“It’s shit,” she says. “We ate our way through a river of shit.”

BREACH

S07Y 137D. Nemar System.

BAER

We don’t talk about the river of shit anymore.

Not since yesterday anyway.

Yeah, it’s too awful to talk about it, but that’s not why we don’t talk about it.

Narista and I can’t talk. Our stomachs are breached. The final set of stairs are marked by puke. You would think we’d run out at some point, but we don’t.

Narista leans on Solstice on her left and me on her right. Again, she carries us up a hundred thousand steps. We march for a day, maybe more, never stopping. Never sleeping. Definitely never eating again.

I’m convinced Narista is thinking this stuff up.

This latest test is another example of how Narista worries about being like Solstice, or of how she defines herself by what she is not. Even if I could talk, I probably wouldn’t ask Narista what’s up with that.

I don’t get the slipstream at all. At least Solstice could go where she wanted to go. There were no rivers made up of stuff we don’t talk about anymore in her space-time adventures. She could choose where she went in the slipstream on some level, but in the beginning, she couldn’t steer. So, how did she figure it out? Eventually, she could choose where she went and how she got there.

Between gags, I croak out, “How … drive … slipstream?”

“Pain,” she says. “I kept going back to when I died on Spike. I channeled that sense of helplessness.”

Narista looks up, trying to understand.

As Solstice helps us up the stairs, she talks Narista through some ideas, answering for her when she can.

“Okay, so this is the impossible.”

“Almost like it’s the opposite.”

“So, I’m guessing the solution for me is not the same for you at all.”

“Corona once told me that I was Emo and you were Goth.”

“Emos feel like the universe is against them.”

“Goths hate the universe.”

Narista points to her eyes. She turns away from Solstice, dry heaving. When she can look back at Solstice, she pulls her eyes down at the corners.

Solstice shakes her head. “No. I think you need to find the opposite of pain.”

“Hap–ugh–pi–ahh–ness… Ugh,” I groan, holding my gut.

“Right,” Solstice says. “What makes Narista happy? Eos,” she says, answering for Narista. “We find him, we find our way out. Duh. We knew that. I guess not really. We weren’t going to look for a way out until we found Eos, but once we find him, Narista should be able to get us back to the Dusk Singularity. I hope we don’t get stuck for twenty-eight decades like me. Sorry, not helping,” she says, after looking at our faces. “Just happy thoughts.

“At least I’m not puking,” she continues. “I haven’t gagged or burped in a day. Sorry about you guys. I ate way less than you. Baer, you’re going to be sick for days. Sorry. Not helpful.

“There was this one time I puked so bad, it hit everyone in the room. We were in the Dunkin Donuts in Waterbury at Apothecaries Hall. That was the first time I met your stepbrother, James, Baer. His lab coat had Jim on it. I think he was already doing drugs by then and was like plotting to drain us of adrenal fluid.”

I think Solstice might actually be happy that Narista and I are sick because she gets to do all the talking.

She pulls on our arms, stopping us, and points upward.

From the shadows steps our next guide.

My brother, James Apothecary.

BUT FOR NOVA

S07Y 138. Nemar System.

BAER

“Take this,” James says. He tosses a bottle of tablets down the tunnel, and Solstice catches it.

“Take it,” Solstice says to Narista and me. “It’s antacid.”

I don’t trust James. He staged his own suicide when I was a kid, developed a serum from my and Robynn’s adrenal fluid to make me daze, was part of the Ferocity away team, and he tried to kill Solstice.

“I know you don’t trust him,” she says, “but I think you’re forgetting I’m the one who killed him.”

James walks down a couple of steps to greet us. “Take it,” he says again. “You’ll feel better. And she’s right. She let me daze and killed me only after I lost myself. It was a cruel fate.”

I take a tablet, and then Narista does too.

“Two each,” he says.

Narista and I each chew another antacid tablet.

“It’ll be a while before they feel better,” James says. “We need to keep walking or the stairs will collapse.”

Solstice walks next to James. Neither apologizes for what they did to each other. Nor does James dig up how we parted when I was a kid.

“Sloth is next,” Solstice says. “Level Nova if the pattern holds.”

“It will,” he says.

“How can you help?”

“I already did.”

“Did you learn that in pharmacy school?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says. “I gave them the good stuff. Prescription-level stomach stabilizer.”

“Can you tell us how to beat the level?”

“No,” James replies.

“Do you want to say anything to Baer?” she asks.

“No.”

“Leave then,” she says. “You are no good to us here, and either one of us won’t hesitate to kill you again.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” he says.

“So, what’s in it for the guides?”

“Life beyond the clan system is not what you think it is,” James says.

Solstice is not religious. Never has been, likely never will be. In some cultures, many would consider her a goddess. But as I watch her converse with slash interrogate James, I wonder what her motivations are. I’ve got my voice back and my stomach has settled, but I don’t want to say anything to James. It’s Solstice I want to talk to. I’m still processing my meeting with Robynn. I don’t understand why it doesn’t bother her.

“What can you give us?” she asks James. “Even your Emperor Cyrelax gave us something unwittingly.”

“I didn’t support his ascension to the throne. Neither did Nadir.”

“And yet you both aided him,” Solstice says.

At the top of the stairs, James pauses. “You would aid your clan, even if you disagreed with its leadership, because you’d find you have far more in common with them than another clan.” He points beyond the top landing. “The cavern awaits.”

“Give me something, brother,” I say.

“You’re near the surface,” he says. “Below the caldera. There’s a pool of tar. Survive and you’ll find the Terran.”

“Where’s the eighth solitaire?” Solstice asks.

“On the surface,” James replies. “But you’ll never make it there.”

BOSS

S07Y 139D. Nemar System.

BAER

As we stare at an unending lake of boiling tar, James leaves us.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find a reconciliation for you two,” Solstice says to me.

I shake my head. “It wasn’t going to happen.”

“He’s right, Solstice,” Narista adds. “I couldn’t make it right with Shade, nor you with NV.”

“So, how are we going to cross this?” she asks.

The thick black oil-like liquid bubbles and pops as air pushes to the surface. Like before it’s contained in a cavern. Stalactites hang down from the ceiling. Their pointy tips are stained black from the tar popping.

“There’s a current,” Narista says. “See? Waves.”

“So we ride it like the food sludge?” I ask.

“That would be too easy,” Solstice says.

“Right,” Narista agrees. “My guess is, it’s chest deep and we’ve got to push our way through it.”

“You’re the boss,” I say.

“We have to test it,” Solstice says. “And make sure it won’t burn us.”

“Why wouldn’t it burn us?” Narista asks. “Shouldn’t we expect the same as we got in the lava cracks, the nettles, or the fire-lightning?”

“Don’t forget the river of high-grade organic fertilizer,” I say.

“We don’t talk about that anymore,” Narista snaps.

“What was your least favorite?” I ask Solstice. “Stairs, pits, caverns, or whatever.”

“The specters,” she replies. “I don’t want to see any of our friends looking like that again.”

She’s got a point.

“So let’s assume it’s hot,” Narista says. “And we can’t go over it because it just wouldn’t be that easy on us.”

“And there are no boats,” Solstice says.

“We go through then,” Narista says.

BOTTOM OUT

S07Y 140D. Nemar System.

BAER

Narista forms a ball of blacklight large enough to hold us. I add the Aether to it. “You two hold the sphere and I’ll push it,” Solstice says. Unlike the semicircle we used before to fight off the lightning and fire, we’ll need to be completely enclosed.

Narista holds her hands aloft while I hold mine out to my sides. The globe looks like a glowing purple and gray marble.

“Keep it as small as possible,” Narista instructs.

We’re all pretty tall so we bend over, leaning our heads forward.

Solstice puts her hands on the inside of the marble and then jumps back, shocked. “Ouch. Any chance you can direct some of that electricity outward?”

“None,” Narista says.

Solstice removes Sunbeams from her scabbard and points it toward her stomach.

“It’s not that bad?” I ask.

“It is,” she says. “I’m going to cut my shirt and see if I can make some gloves. I figure our feet are fine, so I just need to cover my palms.”

“As much as everyone wants to see you in a halter top,” Narista says, “I have a better idea. Baer, give her Striker.”

Right. My staff can absorb and control energy.

Solstice takes Striker and leans it horizontally against the orb, so that the left and right ends press against the sides of the sphere. The curvature is such that she can press on the stick without her fingers hitting the orb.

“You look like a hamster,” Narista says.

Solstice grins and moves her feet forward, pushing the giant electrostatic marble falls to the edge of the landing at the top of the stairs into the tar pool.

“Hang on,” Solstice says. Which is a weird thing to say since we have nothing to hang onto.

Narista used to ski in Colorado, and Solstice and I are surfers, so we maintain our balance as we go over the edge. But it’s kind of like jumping off a cliff inside a see-through kickball.

Solstice yells as we fall ten feet. The sphere splashes into the tar like a meatball into heavy sauce.

“Joy or fear?” Narista asks about the scream.

“Both,” Solstice replies.

For a minute, we merely float on the surface. Solstice moves her legs, causing the sphere to rotate downward without moving forward.

“I can’t get any traction,” she says.

“We need to sink to the bottom,” I say.

“Wait, will the blacklight ignite the tar?” Narista asks.

I look behind me. The cliff is too high for us to go back up. “I hope not,” I say.

“I should have thought of that sooner,” Narista says.

Solstice walks while leaning on Striker, getting the sphere to rotate. “We would have gone anyway,” she says.

Narista and I keep holding our hands up, making sure the marble stays solid.

The warm tar gives way, and we slowly sink.

“Do we have enough air?” Narista asks when half the sphere is submerged.

“I’m glad you’re thinking of this stuff,” Solstice says, “but back on the cliff would have been better.”

The ball sinks until it hits the bottom. The tar is only about four feet deep, so we can still see in front of us.

“That’s not so bad,” I say.

“Wait for it,” Solstice says. She leans into Striker and hampsters the ball forward. Black sludge sloshes over the top and drips down, covering our once clear view.

“Oh,” I say.

“Visibility is going to suck,” Solstice says. As she pushes us forward, the globe darkens more and more on the outside. “At least there’s a current,” she adds. “I don’t think we’d make any progress otherwise.”

Narista loses her balance, dropping to one knee.

The marble changes color from purple-gray to mostly gray.

“I don’t think I can hold it for long,” she says. She’s been growing more tired every day.

The sphere stops. “Something blocking us,” Solstice says. “Might be a stalagmite.”

Narista collapses, falling onto her hands. She yelps as the Aether shocks her.

“Get down,” I say to Solstice as I collapse to my knees. The pressure from the tar is too much.

Solstice leans over me, and Narista and I contract the sphere to the smallest size possible. She folds Striker at the hinge points and kneels next to me.

“Sorry,” I say.

Narista reaches up and grabs Solstice’s thigh. “I really don’t want to drown in tar.”

“Give me all you got,” Solstice says. “Any ounce of energy.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“Vaporize the place.”

“But you don’t have power,” Narista says.

“It’ll be your power,” she says. “I’ll just be the conduit.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Exactly,” Solstice says. “Look where we are. Everything is impossible.”

Solstice takes my hand and Narista’s. The shield falters, and tar oozes into our space. I brace for the pain of the black liquid melting my skin and then bones while I give Solstice every ounce of energy I have.

My ears pop, and I fall downward. A shock wave races in all directions. Just as I close my eyes, it starts to snow.

BLIZZARD

S07Y 142D. Nemar System.

BAER

Ash whirls around the cavern like snow. “What’s going on?” I ask, coughing.

“Blizzard of ash,” Solstice says.

There’s no tar anywhere. But ash is racing through the cavern, creating its own weather. Lightning strikes behind us.

“Can you stand?” she asks.

I get to my feet. “What did you do?”

“Solarplosion via the blacklight and Aether?”

“What?”

“I vaporized the tar. And since I don’t have any power, I used you guys as batteries.”

Just like she said she would. But it sounds a lot like she figured out how to cheat the whole Solstice has no power in this slipstream thing.

“I see the stairs.” She points. Ash snow is piling up, drifting like it often did on Terra during the superwinters. “I’m going to have to carry Narista,” Solstice says. “She’s got nothing left.”

I pull my hood low and wrap my cloak around my face.

Solstice hoists Narista up, carrying her over her left shoulder. “Run,” she says.

We jog. It’s the best we can do as the ash piles up. The tar falls as gray feather-like precipitate. Dunes form up in the wind like snow banks, blocking our way. We are forced to climb over stalagmites and under stalactites.

Gale force winds push against us, cutting visibility to zero.

“Just a little bit farther,” Solstice says. “I calculated the distance before the ash whipped up.”

It’s like that time we marched to Lubec, Maine, except we had Fusion and a big cat with us, and sometimes a truck.

We plod along, eventually reaching the last set of stairs leading from the last level.

When we reach the tunnel, a lone cloaked figure waits for us. Solstice puts Narista on the stairs and then helps me up.

The risers and runners don’t collapse this time. It’s another sign our subterranean journey is nearing its end.

“Come,” the cloaked figure says. “I’ve been waiting for her.”

“Let’s talk on the surface,” I say. The air is clearer on the first steps of the tunnel, but ash still whirls around the entrance.

The figure bends over, helping Solstice onto the stairs. “We can’t,” the old man says. “You’re not at the top.”

“Eos is right,” Solstice says. “We should have known there’s an eighth level.”

BIZZARE

S07Y 143D. Nemar System.

BAER

“Eos?” I ask. I don’t remember being old. And I don’t want to if I looked as bad as Eos. Emaciated and weak, he’s old beyond reckoning, which is like in his eighties.

Narista raises her head. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Years,” Eos says.

“He would have been eighty-four when she brought him here,” Solstice says. “But time doesn’t flow the same way down here as at the center of the singularity.”

“Eighty-eight,” Eos says. “That’s my best guess.”

No one argues with him. We’ve had a few years of sevens popping up everywhere. When the eighth elementals says he’s eighty-eight, no one is surprised.

Eos sits on the stairs next to Narista. “We’ve got one more level,” he says.

Narista places her hand in his. “You got old,” she says.

“How did you get here?” Solstice asks. “Narista can’t remember.”

Narista leans on Eos’s shoulder. Both are so weak, they can’t stay up without help.

“The Ferocity captured me after I fled to the sea,” Eos says. “They patrol Terra.”

“You should have told me,” Narista says.

“I didn’t want you to see me this old. I wanted to die at sea without your pity.”

She kisses his cheek. “That wasn’t pity.” She smiles. “It was reverential love.”

“So after the Ferocity take you from Terra…” Solstice prompts Eos.

“They took anybody they could find,” he says. “I’m not sure they cared much about ordinary Terrans like me. I have no powers. I figure they just didn’t want any elementals to slip by. And they would have saved anyone they could get. They took some of the kids. Braeger, Hali, Fyra, Aerynn, and Everet.”

“Braeger and Hali escaped,” Solstice says. “Hali is waiting for us on our ship. But Braeger died saving Baer on Aether Prime.”

“Are my grandson and granddaughter alive?” Eos asks.

“Aerynn and Everet are missing, along with Fyra,” Solstice says.

In case no one remembers the bizarre elemental family tree, Solstice adds, “Aerynn is the daughter of Coleos and Eryn. Coleos was Lani and Eos’s son. Eryn was a daughter of Kase. Everet is the son of Kaseos and Annie. Kaseos was the son of Kase and Eos. Annie was the daughter of Fusion and Jordin.”

Eos squeezes Narista’s hand. “Why not just let me die? Why bring me here?”

“I remember,” Narista says. “On the Dusk Singularity when I was calling ships, I found you, unexpectedly, on a Ferocity ship.”

“I was ready to die,” he says.

“I know,” she says. “I was too.”

Eos and Narista look up at Solstice.

“I think she knew,” I say.

“Knew what?” Eos asks.

“Why she had to save you,” I say. “Deep down, Narista knew she had to save you.”

“Why?” Eos asks again. “I’m just an old man.”

Solstice leans over him. “That’s where you’re wrong. Eos, you are the eighth elemental and the key to founding new Terra and bringing peace to the galaxy.”

Eos takes it pretty well for an eighty-eight-year-old man.

He doesn’t die of shock. I figure that’s about the best we can hope for.

BUYING TIME

S07Y 143D. Nemar System.

BAER

Jordin told me it could be real if I wanted it to be.

While Eos tries to understand the magnitude of the gift he has been given, I can’t help but envy him.

I know I’m supposed to be tough, and it’s probably just the weight of Nemesis’s core weighing me down, but I miss Robynn, Jordin, and Lani. None of us talk about Austin, probably because Solstice wasn’t there, but it was the happiest time of our lives. At least, it was for me.

Robynn and I were married for over fifty years. If I counted up all the time I’ve actually spent with Solstice, would it add up to even a decade?

This mission is all about saving Eos, and it’s like were brothers. I would not take him from Narista, not if we can save him, but I wish long ago the same consideration had been given to the others that settled in Austin. Why not Fusion or Kase? Lani or Jordin? Especially, why not Robynn?

In the endless comparison of all the girls I’ve loved, I question my choices. If I were dead now, would I be with Robynn? By making this choice, have I deprived myself of lasting peace, choosing instead some level of eternal pain? Is Robynn gone now, or does she wait for me?

We were equals and partners, and we are both less without each other.

Solstice must know. I try to hide it, but it must be there on my face. I love her, but not the same way as Robynn. Supermodel sun goddesses are nice to spend the day with, but can you really settle down with them? Honestly, Narista is a far better match for Solstice than I ever will be. If only she had seen that. If only she let me go.  

EVOLVE

SUBTERRANEAN ELEMENTAL

S07Y 144D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Narista and Baer are spent. Eos is old. And I have no powers.

The first thing I need is a list. Get through the eighth level, heal Eos, find his gem, get out of the singularity, save Hali and Corona, and then get the Rising Sun and the Dusk Singularity flying again. What did I miss? Oh, right. Find the four gems I hid, rescue three missing grandchildren, vanquish evil, find the eighth planet, repopulate it, and bring peace to the galaxy.

That’s a big list.

I should start small.

One step at a time.

“We need to get up these steps,” I say.

Baer, Narista, and Eos look up from where they’re slumped on the stairs. I’m the only one standing.

I grasp the Sun solitaire around my neck. Oh, yeah. I’ve got to find my gifts again. I’m pretty sure they’ll come back once we get away from Nemesis and this singularity.

“Eos,” I say, “how do we get off Never?”

“We’re not on Never,” he says. “That’s the third planet. We’re in Nemesis.”

“I know,” I say, “but we’re also in the singularity. Didn’t we just get spit out on Never?” Like he’d really know. Narista’s mom basically invented slipstream travel, and I perfected it. So, that means if there are any authorities on the subject, it’s me or my sister.

“We’re in the core of the dark star,” Eos says. “You never left Nemesis.”

Oh. That makes total sense.

“He’s not just a pretty face,” Narista says.

“What’s this about being an eighth elemental?” he asks.

Nobody is going to move anytime soon, everyone’s like all tired or old. Except, I don’t think I’ve ever felt stronger. Which is another reminder that this is the impossible. Is Eos in the impossibility of the singularity or is he outside that? Because I really want to save him and have him exist beyond this weird reality. No offense to him or Narista, but I’m moving on from the eight levels of weird as soon as we can.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I say. “While everyone rests, I’m going to bring Eos up to speed on the seven clans. Strike that, eight clans. I might even draw you a picture of the known galaxy. And after that, Baer’s going to dig down deep and remember all that science fiction stuff he grew up with and explain how if what is happening is impossible—I’m strong, for example, and Narista only sees what can’t happen—then how can we rescue Eos from that. We don’t want to leave Eos behind after the crappy month and a half we had.”

“We’ve been down here that long?” Narista asks.

“Like fifty days,” I say. “Time’s all messed up here. How long did you think it was?”

“Way longer,” Baer says.

“Years,” Eos says.

Actually, that’s true for him.

“A week maybe,” Narista says. “I don’t remember sleeping or eating except for that one time.”

“As much as I love one-times,” I begin.

“We don’t talk about that anymore,” Baer interrupts.

“Everyone rest,” I say. “I’m going to bring Eos up to speed on the clans.”

I sit down beside him. “Up until recently but after we learned Terra was attacked by aliens—you know, the Ferocity—we thought there were seven clans and seven solitaires for the seven systems. Except we were wrong. There’s eight. And you’re the last Terran alive that I know of. I mean, there’s Baer, me, Narista, Fyra, Hali, Aerynn, and Everet, but we’ve been all been born into other clans, so we don’t count. We need the grandkids because four of the other elementals, Lani, Jordin, Kase, and Fusion, are dead. And there’s no getting them back. Without you, we can’t balance out the clans or have peace. And the rest of us are convinced that the eighth gem is somewhere at the core of Nemesis. You helped us figure out that part. Nemesis and Sol are binary systems. So, maybe it makes sense that a solitaire can be found here. And guess what? The Ferocity don’t have a clue. They got like a billion soldier-farmers and hundreds of thousands of ships and maybe three elementals under lock and key. But I know where seven gems are, and you’re going to tell us where number eight is. And we’ve got five elementals—me, Narista, you, Baer, and Hali—plus an artificial intelligence named Corona who’s made from pure energy. How can we possibly mess up the war this time?”

Eos nods. I’m not sure if he understands, but we’ll help him along.

“Okay, Baer. Your turn.”

Baer looks up. “What?”

Come on, Baer. “This is the impossible singularity slipstream. We all know that to be true.” Duh. “So, how do we pull Eos out of the impossible without breaking the universe?”

“Can I have a different question?” Baer asks.

“You’re the worst. Didn’t you love those star something movies? You know, both types. And you read books, right? The one about the elves and rings and magic. You know, magic books.”

“You’re the elf,” he says.

“He’s got you there,” Narista says.

He frowns at her. “You’re both elves.”

“Soleria and Nemar, if you please,” I say. “Elf is just what people who don’t know the truth call us.”

“I got nothing,” Baer says.

“How about once Eos has his gem?” Narista asks. “Won’t that help him get young and stuff and restore him? It happened to Baer.”

“It’s true,” Baer says, nodding at Eos. “I was as old as you.”

Eos sits up straighter and kisses Narista on the lips. She doesn’t even pull away. She still loves him. Old and wrinkly or not.

“I’m feeling a lot better about being the key to repopulating new Terra,” he says. “Hook me up to the young gem anytime.”

“It’s not the young gem,” Narista says. “All gems have the power to restore when matched with the right bearer. But we can’t. We need a Terra pod.”

“They call those toilets on Ferocity command ships,” Baer says.

“That’s it,” I say. “We need an elemental, a solitaire, and a pod. That should save Eos without breaking the universe.”

“Where do we get one of those Terran toilets, then?” Eos asks.

SAIL

S07Y 145D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“First,” I say, “we need to get up these stairs.” I look up at the tunnel. Black glass stairs lead into the shadows above. “And I think the fact that these stairs haven’t collapsed on us like all the other stairs is a really good sign.” We’re like in between the seventh and eighth levels of a subterranean volcano at the heart—the core—of the Nemesis. What could possibly go wrong?

“By the way,” I add, “let’s hope this whole singularity thing closes when we wrap things up. I’m guessing leaving a wormhole open in the middle of one star in a binary-star system would have adverse consequences for the other star.”

It takes a while for everyone else to catch up. They’re tired.

“Right,” Narista says. “Don’t wreck Nemesis, otherwise Sol will fall out of the universe or something.”

“You mean galaxy,” I say, and it’s a gross oversimplification.

Baer leans on me, and we trail Narista and Eos, holding on to each other, up the stairs. Obviously, I should carry old-man-Eos or super-tired-Narista, but I suspect they want to hold onto each other for a while.

Baer and I did a lot of joining when we found each other again, but Eos is probably too old for any of that. So, they’re going to have to be happy with hand holding or leaning on each other.

“He’s fine,” Narista says, reading my thoughts. Since I have no powers, I can’t block her out.

“Okay,” I say, “but stay out of my head.”

“Fine,” she says. “Sorry. But no more thinking about Eos’s gear.”

That’s our deal. We’re both too messed up to go poking around each other’s heads, so we don’t.

The staircase has only eight steps.

It doesn’t take that long to get up them.

Baer and I bump into the back of Eos and Narista.

“Watch it,” she says.

I climb the last step and join her. Baer stands next to Eos. The eighth cavern or level is not what we expected it to be. It’s not horrific.

“Oh, look,” Baer says, pointing. “A lake and a boat.”

“It’s symbolic or something,” I say. “Like from mythology. It’s a common theme. They have this river in Bulgaria that leads to the gates of hell. The Greeks had the River Styx. You know, there’s Thor’s well in the Pacific too.”

“What?” Baer asks.

“Sorry,” I say. “I’m showing my age from all the slipstreaming I did. I wasn’t always hopelessly in love with you or a drug addict or the rebel princess savor.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Sure. I was president once, a drag queen, and a professor of antiquities and mythology. You know, basically an archeologist.”

“Drag queen?” Narista asks.

“I had to tape my boobs back and shave my hair and eyebrows. It worked out really well until my gay boyfriend found out I had real boobs. In the end, we agreed it would be easier if he just shot me.”

“Did he?” Eos asks.

“Yep.”

“Let’s get on the boat then,” Narista says. “I’m all for being careful and not walking into traps, but we have to cross the lake.”

“This is a trap?” Eos asks.

“All the levels are,” Baer says. “And they’re also tests.”

“But not everything sucks,” I say. “We got to see old friends and other stuff. Baer had whiskey.”

“It was probably pee,” he says.

“Was that the trap?” Eos asks.

“Let’s just get into the boat,” Baer says. “You don’t want to know about the food sludge.”

When no one disagrees, we climb down a set of stairs on the other side of the landing and head for a beach with black sand.

I’m pretty sure in some manual somewhere it says never take off your boots in the apocalypse. But my feet are hot, and I feel like we’ve moved way beyond the whole apocalypse thing. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re doing the whole sci-fi thing now. In fact, the apocalypse happened so long ago, we might have been caught in a bit of fantasy for a few years. Like dazers and swords.

I still have a sword.

So what?

I stop halfway across the beach and sit to remove my boots.

“What are you doing?” Baer asks. “Everyone knows don’t take your boots off—”

“She’s right,” Narista says. She kicks off both of her boots, removes her cloak, and then her top. She gathers them in her arms and carries them to the charcoal-gray boat.

Not to be outdone, I strip down to my bikini-underwear-model swimsuit.

“This is the trap!” Baer exclaims. “Don’t you get it? This dark beach sand thing is to lull us into complacency, like we’re hanging out in Hawaii or something.”

“Hawaii is a volcano too,” I say. I shove my clothes into my sling sack next to my Lyricbook—Why haven’t I written or sung anything in like forever?—and follow Narista, carrying my sword and boots.

Eos climbs into the boat, following me, leaving Baer alone on the shore.

“Guess you have to push us off,” I say.

“You guys are idiots,” he says as Eos strips down in the boat. “Now you got Eos in his underwear.”

Narista smiles at him. Sure, he’s got some wrinkles and his hair is gray, but he’s ripped. “You kept it going there, didn’t you?” she says to him.

“I tried to keep in shape,” he answers. “I was on those stairs for years. Now, I’m worn out. But early on, I did a lot of plyometrics.”

“Really?” Baer shouts. “Plyometrics? You’re all letting down your guard just as we’re about to escape.”

“How do you know, Mr. Smarty-pants,” I say, “that we don’t have it all figured out and the one guy that is fully dressed is going to fall into the trap?”

I lean over the edge of the boat and touch the water, splashing it on myself. “It’s like the Gulf of Mexico.”

Baer groans. “Except,” he says, “there’s no sky!” He points up at the cavern ceiling. “And we’re in the core of a star.”

Waves lap the sides of the boat, splashing us a bit.

I scan the horizon. A storm is coming. Clouds form between the underground sea and the cavern roof. Normally, I’d just call that mist or fog, but the lightning strikes indicate it’s something more.

The waves pick up around us, cresting and washing ashore as white caps while we argue.

“Push us off the shore,” I say, grabbing the oars. “I’ll row first.”

“Whatever!” Baer yells. He stands at the bow and pushes into the water.

The second his feet touch the water, he falls into the trap and is pulled under.

SALT

S07Y 146D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“I told you so,” I say, pulling Baer from the water.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, clambering over the side of the boat. Narista and Eos help me, grabbing Baer by the waist.

“One minute your mouthing off in the sand,” I say, “and the next minute, you’re caught in the riptide.”

“Storm’s coming,” Narista says as the boat rocks.

I nod. “Get him settled. I got the oars.”

I sit with my back to the bow and place the oars in the U-brackets on the port and starboard sides. The dinghy is less than ten feel long and just two people wide. Baer sits on the flat-bottom floor in front of Narista and Eos, perched on the stern bench.

“Row,” Baer calls with no particular urgency. “Row,” he says again. “It’s what they do in rowing.”

“What who does?” I ask.

“It’s to help you find a rhythm,” he says. “You know, the coxswain.” He pauses and then adds another, “Row.”

“You’re being a cock, all right,” I say.

I sneak a peek behind the other three. I haven’t made much progress from the shore. Narista and Eos can barely hold each other up. She’s given all she has on the first seven levels and stairs. And Eos is like older than dirt. It’s probably nap time for him.

“Why don’t you guys rest?” I say. “Baer will keep an eye on me.”

“Switch with us,” Narista says to him.

Baer takes the seat and the other two lie down on the floor between the benches. Baer takes off his cloak and hands it to them for a pillow.

While I row, Baer watches them get settled.

A few minutes later, he says, “I think they’re out.”

Orange light reflects from the sides of the cavern, giving us a little visibility.

“Good,” I say. “They need it.”

“Head a little to port,” he says. “I don’t like those clouds midcavern.”

“There’s lightning,” I say.

“All the more reason to avoid it. You want to take shifts? I can row.”

“I’m not tired. I’ve got unlimited strength and stamina.”

“But no powers,” he adds. “Not unless we charge you up or something.”

“I don’t think Narista can give me another boost. And you should save what you’ve got. I’m fine. Just keep me company.”

“You got it,” he says. “You can straighten out again. I don’t want to head to far to the left. My left.”

“Port side is still port side,” I say, “no matter which way you’re facing. In the olden days, they called it larboard.”

“Really? I was just about to make fun of you, like how did you know that, were you a pirate once too? But I kind of like that. It makes starboard make more sense.”

I don’t know why he’d think that. It’s just further proof his brain works so differently from mine.

Waves splash the sides of the boat. We’ve picked up a current, and I’m steering more than anything. When I drift or need a correction, Baer lets me know. While the other two sleep, he and I chitchat. Sure, were at the center of a singularity, but you can’t let that ruin your day.

“Apples or oranges?” he asks, starting up a game of QNA123.

We count 1-2-3, just like we did on the night we met seven years ago.

“Apples,” we both say.

“Sorry I missed Halloween,” he says.

“Two weeks ago,” I say. “I didn’t think of the anniversary of the night we met either. That was right before the food sludge.” I take my turn and ask, “What do you miss the most?”

1-2-3.

“Lani,” he says, early on the two count.

“Dance,” I say, but then quickly say, “Elle.”

“You can’t change your answer,” he says.

“You went early,” I say.

“Are you glad I’m back?” he asks.

1-2-3.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“No yes or no answers,” I say. Whoever gets three jinxes first wins, and he’s cheating. We both said apples and yes.

I need to ask him something he’ll definitely match with my answer so I get a point without cheating like he did.

“What are you going to do when we get back to the Rising Sun?” I ask, and then add, “After we save Hali and Corona and get free of the singularity.”

I continue to row, while we count together.

1-2-3.

“Shower,” we both say.

One point for me.

“You knew the answer,” he says.

“A girl has got to try to win,” I say. “I can’t just let you.”

“Fine. My turn. Are you sure you don’t want me to row?”

“Yes,” I say at the same moment as Baer. “Ah! You cheated again.”

“You fell for it,” he says. “I am now the current QNA123 champion of the world.”

I smile at him. There’s an easiness to our relationship right now. I don’t even care that he kissed Robynn or kissed Jordin earlier. I know people will never get it. I just don’t need love in the same way he does. I’m Soleria, after all, and love is rare in my clan. And I kissed Robynn too. I wonder if he cares about that or if it was a turnoff for him. I don’t wonder enough to ask.

Baer stands. “What are you doing? Stop, I said.”

Totally not paying attention enough, and I missed his directions.

I raise the oars, but it’s too late. The dinghy bottoms out on a sandbar. I fall off my seat toward the bow, and Baer topples onto Narista and Eos.

Narista sits up. “What happened?”

“We should have named the boat,” I say. “This is not the first time this has happened to me.”

SAND

S07Y 147D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

We’re going to call the dinghy the Impossibility, I decide.

“Do you have a name yet?” Narista asks.

“The Impossibility,” I say.

“That’s a change,” Baer says. “You call everything sun-this or sol-that.”

No, I don’t. I mean, besides Sunbeams—my sword—and Sunbeams Blacklight—my surfboard; and the Rising Sun, the Dusk Singularity, the Solidarity, and the Solarity. “I’m evolving.”

Baer stands up, surveying the sandbar. “We’re about a quarter-way across the cavern. And the storm looks like it’s waiting for us.”

I get up too and look beyond the bow and sandbar. “Waiting for us to do what?” I ask.

“It’s going to hit us,” Narista says. “We all know that. It’ll strike just when we are farthest from land.”

“What other land?” Baer asks.

“The island,” Narista and I say. We’ve got the eyes and ears of the Soleria and Nemar. We can see and hear farther than an Aethan or a Terra.

“What?” Eos asks.

We can hear especially farther than an old Terran.

“Let’s just rest,” Baer says. “If that storm’s going to get us eventually, let’s be at our best.” He hops out of the boat before we can vote or discuss.

“Don’t,” I yell.

When Baer’s feet hit the sand, he sinks.

Narista leans over the edge of the dinghy. “He’s sinking.”

I thrust the oar at him. He grabs the end. “Pull yourself up,” I say. “Didn’t we establish there is no solid land?”

Baer pulls himself up over the edge of the Impossibility.

“That’s just stupid,” he says. “We’re in a cavern. The eighth in a series of subterranean caverns. There’s got to be a bottom to this. And squishy sand makes no sense.”

“It’s quicksand,” Narista says. “Don’t get out of the boat. Nobody wants to go on a quest to save your ass. You’re not even first on her list in any quest.”

Baer stands midboat, shaking off the slurry of sand and water.

“Sorry,” I say, “She’s right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I remember your deal. When we get separated, save her, then Eos, then me.”

“So, don’t get lost,” Eos says.

“Let’s see if we can paddle our way out of here,” I say. “I’m going to need everyone’s help.”

I turn around and face the bow.

Baer sits to my right and grabs that oar. I hold the left one. Narista kneels in front of me and Eos in front of Baer. As we pull back, the two kneelers urge us on.

The two of us groan at once, but the boat doesn’t budge.

“Get at the stern, you two,” I say. “See if we can shift our weight to the back.”

Narista and Eos get as close to the back of the dinghy as they can without falling out, while Baer and I sit on the stern seat.

With the four of us in the back, Baer and I paddle again.

“Rock us,” I say to Eos and Narista.

They shift up and down, causing the bow to rise.

“Time it,” Baer says. “When they go down, we paddle.”

He counts off, coordinating us.

The bow of the dinghy rocks up again as we paddle. The boat lurches to the stern, and Baer calls for one more paddle. “Again, with everything you’ve got.”

The Impossibility breaks frees of the sand and slides out into the underground lake.

Baer and I step toward the bow one at a time to balance out the dinghy.

I take up the oars again, navigating away from the sandbar and toward the far side of the lake.

SHORE

S07Y 148D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Baer’s strength is recovering, unlike Narista’s. We take turns manning the oars. Except I call it womanning the oars when it’s my turn. The nearest shore is an island, halfway across the underground lake. We make for it for no other reason than it seems to be in the direction we want to head and it provides for easy navigation commands for the one of us not rowing at the moment.

“How come you’re so tired?” I ask Narista. She’s lying on the floor of the boat, holding Eos. I get it with Eos. He’s old. But I’ve never seen my sister unable to bounce back after some rest.

“I never closed the portal,” she says. “The singularity is open. If it collapses, I don’t know where we’ll end up or how we’ll ever return.” She sits up. “I can row if you want,” she says, lying.

“No,” Baer says. “You keep that portal open.”

“How are you even doing that?” I ask. “How do you even know you are doing that?”

“It took three hundred years,” Narista replies, “for you to find your way out of your slipstream nightmare. You don’t think I was going to let that happen to us, do you? Your whole thing started when you flew into Sol.”

“It was only twenty-eight decades,” I say.

“That’s so much better,” Baer says. “Really.”

“The longer we stay,” Narista says, “the harder it will be for me.”

Baer sits next to me, taking an oar. “Then we’ll double our efforts. If I had known, I would have never delayed with Robynn. I wish Nyx had told us.”

“What?” Eos asks. “You saw Nyx. What did she say? Can we go back and find her?”

“Her spirit was on the sixth level,” Narista says. “She’s dead. She won’t be coming with us. I’m sorry. I hope she can move on now that we’re gone.”

“Did she say anything?” Eos asks.

As Baer and I row, Narista explains our meeting with his sister. “She said you weren’t all lovey-dovey.”

“True,” Eos says.

“Tell him, Nyx told me, that you are the center of it all. Terra Prime is in the center of a galactic sphere formed by the Aira System at the top pole, the Wydra System at the bottom pole, and the Soleria, Aetha, Eartarin, Ferocity, and Nemar Systems spaced out along the equator, so to speak. Terra Prime can be repopulated by the Aether Prime since those clans are pretty much identical.”

“That’s like word for word,” I say. I steal a glance behind me. The island is getting closer faster since we doubled our efforts.

“I have a good memory,” Narista says. “I’m like you. Telepaths can see words.”

“What else?” Eos asks.

“The eighth clan is not the last, Nyx said. It’s the middle. She also said, you’ll never have gifts and ‘tell him I love him or something.’”

“She did say or something,” Baer adds.

Eos smiles. “She said something? Really?”

Narista nods. “Yeah. Is that good?”

“Everyone forgets we were twins,” he says. “Twins that got along, which is probably rare for boy/girl sets. Something was code for being together. People didn’t get it. Why we’d hang out. So, after school, she used to say, what are you doing? And I’d say, ‘Something.’ It just meant we were going to hang out, but more.”

It’s I love you for Eos and Nyx. The look on Baer’s and Narista’s faces show they understand too.

Baer looks over his shoulder. “We’re getting close,” he says.

Narista stands in the boat. “I’ll guide you around.”

“Can’t we make landfall?” Eos asks.

“I don’t think so,” she says. “We should go around.”

A wave rocks the boat, and Narista shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

“Whoa,” she says, stepping toward the stern and then to Baer and me.

“Guess I don’t have my sea legs yet,” she says. Another wave rolls up, lifting the dinghy. “Careful,” she says. “We’re coming up on the island. Row toward the starboard side.”

The boat rocks left to right as we turn. Narista loses her balance, falling at my feet. “I don’t feel too good,” she says.

She’s just getting seasick.

“It’s not that,” she replies to my thought. She grabs my left hand with hers while putting the other hand to her head.

She tries to kneel but falls between my legs. She grasps my hand again. “Come with me,” she says.

SINGULAR ILLUSION

S07Y 149D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

In a black void, Narista speaks. “It’s collapsing. I don’t want to leave him behind.”

“Where are we?” I ask. We are surrounded by blackness, and yet not the absence of light. I can see the dark. The ground and the sky are as dark as Narista’s hair.

“We’re neither here nor there,” she says.

“That makes a surprising amount of sense. It’s all just an illusion?”

“Wasn’t your time in the slipstream?” she asks.

“It felt real.”

“We need to get Eos out. I don’t want to wake up on the Dusk Singularity without him.”

“I was able to get Baer to change his future,” I say. “I visited him before the Firegale. I even went to middle school with him for a week. I talked to Lani and Jordin too, but I made them forget. I convinced him, deep down, to go into the Aether pod with his solitaire when he was still alive.”

“You did the same for me without my permission,” she says, referring to when I sent her out to sea with her pod and gem instead of letting her die.

“Are you still mad?” I ask.

“Not anymore.”

“Should we try to get out of the blackness?” I look around for an exit or entrance, any clue to how we got here or how to get out.

“The singular illusion will pass,” Narista says. “We just need to wait it out.”

“The boys will be fine?”

“Are they ever? I’m sure they’ll get into trouble, but they’ll protect our bodies.”

“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” I say. “I left Baer once back when we were in SACAM. For ninety days, he had to take care of me while I was unconscious. I spent far too long in that slipstream. I was lucky I got out.”

“Worse than when you got stuck for centuries?” Narista asks.

“Yes. I had no control of things back in the early days.”

“So, how do we get Eos out of this illusion?”

“He’s here, just like us, whether in this real or not.”

“We need to find his solitaire then,” she says. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

“How do you know?”

“The Dusk Singularity was built from other ships forming up around my Nether pod. The Ferocity ship I destroyed had a single pod.”

“How do you know it was the Terran one?”

“Because it looked like a bathroom,” she says. “Different from the other pods but similar to the stall you have on the Rising Sun.”

“The Ferocity must think they’re pretty funny.”

“I don’t think they know what humor is. Maybe they’re being hateful or just don’t understand their history.”

“Maybe they just couldn’t believe there could be an eighth clan.”

“The gem is here too,” she says. “They must have been bringing all three back from Terra—the solitaire, pod, and elemental. They just couldn’t believe it.”

“Good,” I say. “If that part of their history is lost, then we have the advantage. They won’t know about Terra Prime either—a single planet at the center of the sphere formed by the other seven systems.”

“It’s time to go back,” Narista says. “I can’t hold the door for much longer.”

“Is this the door?” I ask.

She closes her eyes. “Look.”

Above me the darkness clears, and I can see the Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity as if they are at the wide end of a funnel. Corona was unable to move our ships as I commanded when we fell in. At my feet, a hole opens up. Below me I see a volcano. It’s like we’re at the center of an hourglass.

“This is the singularity,” Narista says, “the doorway between that realm and the real.” She grabs my hand. “Our work isn’t done. Jump.”

“Save the boys,” I say.

She smiles. “Yes. And we probably want our bodies back too.”

STREAKS

S07Y 150D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

I open my eyes. Narista groans underneath me. “Get off. We’re squishing Eos.”

“Nice to have you two back,” Baer says as he pulls on the oars. “In case you’re wondering, we missed the island.”

I look up over the edge of the Impossibility.

“Seriously, get up,” Narista says.

I lean forward, away from her and Eos.

“Way to just stack us up, Baer,” Narista says.

“I left you where you fell,” he says. “Had to man the oars. The second I let go, the island drew us in.”

“Boats want to go to shore,” I say. I sit next to him and take over the left oar. “It’s not natural to be at sea forever.”

In the distance, lightning crackles. The storm we saw a day ago still blocks our path. The entire far shore is obscured by low gray clouds. The cavern lake is lit by an orange glow that reflects off the stalactite ceiling from magma flowing along the sides.

All of us know we need to go through the storm to get to the surface. The more we know about the core of Nemesis, the more it seems natural that there is magma, water, tar, and electrical impulses.

Nemesis isn’t like Sol. It’s the dark star. A dead star collapsing in on itself. The singularity, the black hole, and the event horizon are all parts of the star’s demise.

Beneath us, the ground shakes, forming waves that lift us halfway to the cavern ceiling.

“Keep low,” Narista says.

“Watch for stalactites,” Baer says. “I don’t want to row into one of those in the crests.”

Narista looks aft, back at the island. “We’ve got a problem.”

Clouds surround the island.

“Another storm?” I say. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not going back anyway.”

“I don’t think those are clouds.” She points at the wall of horizontal gray-white streaks approaching us. “That’s a wave.”

STRIKE

S07Y 151D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“Brace for impact,” I say.

“Dammit,” Baer says. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Pull your oar up,” I tell him. “Get it in the boat.”

“No, you need to steer through a storm,” Narista counters. “Leave them in.”

“We’re going to ride this,” Baer says.

We turn around and face the bow, kneeling in front of our bench. Narista and Eos kneel behind us.

“The best we can hope for is to steer by leaning,” I say.

“Like the egg module in the Lexington Tunnel with Lani, Jordin, and Selene,” he says.

I smile at him. “I miss your dog.”

“So do all people. All pets grow old and die. That’s the only normal thing about our lives.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But I’d love to pet her again. She’d like this too. She loved to swim.”

“Hang on,” he says.

We grab the bench with both hands. Narista clutches my waist and Eos hangs onto Baer.

The rising tide lifts the Impossibility such that we’re inches from the cavern ceiling. The wave is like a tall ripple with no whitecaps. I poke my head up and turn when we’re a little lower from the ceiling. The waves behind us are breaking against the ceiling, never reaching full potential.

“Everyone lean left,” Baer says.

In an emergency, people don’t scream Hard to port. I have, but I’m a captain. Baer’s always just been a first officer.

We lean left, avoiding a stalactite.

“Right!” he calls out.

We slide to the other side of the dinghy, avoiding the next stalactite. Water splashes up over the sides, spraying onto his face. He flashes me a crazy grin like Selene used to. It occurs to me how much he looks like his dog.

In the best possible way.

“Duck!” he yells.

There’s no avoiding this one. The dinghy rises with the tide right in the center of a stalactite. Narista and Eos separate, moving to opposite sides of the Impossibility. The rock formation hanging from the cavern ceiling catches Narista’s cloak, yanking her back as the boat lurches forward.

Eos dives for her, knocking the cloth free from the point.

The dinghy lurches to starboard with the shift of weight, and I fall toward Baer. The boat turns to the right, hitting the next stalactite. The tide passes under us, and the dinghy slips backward.

The next wave hits us and spins the boat around just as we enter the fog backward.

Lightning cracks, striking the water off the port side.

“Oars, Baer,” I say. “Spin us around.”

We lower one oar into the water on his side, hoping to pivot the boat. We strike something under the surface, and the oar gets ripped from our hands.

“Other one,” he says.

I hand him my oar, holding it high to clear Narista and Eos. It scrapes against the cavern roof. Baer grabs it, helping me hold it steady. The boat turns again, righting us.

“We needed to use the ceiling, not the ground,” he says.

“Put it down,” Narista yells.

Lightning sparks near us, striking the oar. The wood splinters as we let go. The electricity jumps from the shards to the dinghy, sending a shock wave through the four of us until it dissipates in the water a hundred feet from us.

My hair sticks up in all directions, and it’s a minute before I can even groan.

When the next wave hits us from behind, we have no defenses.

The top of the Impossibility scrapes on the cavern roof. We lie flat below the dinghy’s edges. The boat twists and turns, striking the features that hang from the ceiling. It’s too much for the vessel, and it shatters on the next stalactite when we are deep into the clouds.

The boat wrecked, we’re tossed into the water as lightning discharges around us.

Baer reaches for me, but the waves force us apart. I ride the water forward, ducking when the tide surges, avoiding the pointy inverse spires.

I’ve lost Narista and Eos.

Baer drifts away, fading from my view in the lightning fog.

Each strike sends a shock through my body.

But I’m an elemental and a bearer. I’m used to discharging and absorbing energy.

So the strikes hurt, but they’re not fatal.

Just when I think I’ve lost Baer in the waves and all hope, I see him bobbing in front of me. “Land ho!” he yells, like he’s some sort of pirate or something.

I was a pirate, not him, but he’s right. I can see land, larboard side.

SOLID

S07Y 152D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

The waves pick me up, bypassing Baer, making me the first to reach the shore. I’m tossed onto the final staircase. Eight steps lead upward and to the outside world. “Come on!” I shout to Baer, Narista, and Eos as they wash ashore onto the steps after me. I help each one up and then run ahead toward the opening at the top of the tunnel.

At the top, I stop on a ledge. “Slow down,” I yell to the others. We’re two-thirds of the way up the mountain, overlooking a steep drop. Lightning crackles overhead, lighting up the dark purple sky. Fires travel between the clouds, provide an eerie sunset-like glow between the strikes. Firenadoes circle the mountain, joining flaming clouds and lava.

Above us, the mountain shakes as rock and lava spew from the caldera on top. Baer comes up behind me, grabbing onto my left arm. “Holy shit.”

We stand on the last overlook of the highest mountain at the core of the darkest star.

Above the top of the volcano, a purple and black funnel swirls.

“That’s the singularity,” Narista says, “and our only way out.”

Carved into the side of the mountain, a winding onyx staircase beckons.

“That’s the way up, isn’t it?” Baer asks.

“It would have to be,” Eos says. “I don’t think I’m up for that.”

I don’t think my perpetually sixteen-year-old legs want to climb those steps. I don’t know how eighty-eight-year-old Eos will ever manage it.

Baer looks at me, Narista, and then Eos. He knows too. “What do we do?” he asks.

“Let me think,” I say. “I figured we’ve climbed nearly sixty thousand steps. That will leave about thirty thousand.”

“How do you figure?” Narista asks.

“I counted each staircase, and I’m guessing that in order to save the eighth elemental, it takes about eighty-eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight steps.”

“If we’re two-thirds of the way up,” Baer says, “and Solstice says we’ve already done nearly sixty thousand—and I believe her—then an additional thirty thousand or so would make sense.”

“I’m not doing that,” Eos says. He steps out to the edge, looking down rather than up.

“Don’t!” Narista yells.

“I’m not jumping,” he says. “Just getting a better look. Baer, hold my waist.”

Baer grabs onto Eos, and he looks over the edge and up the mountain slope. “We’re in a lava tube, I think,” he says.

Lightning flashes near the summit.

“Did you see that?” he asks.

“We all did,” Baer replies.

“No, not that. On the mountainside, I saw something shining.”

“Let me look,” Narista says.

I hold onto her waist, and she leans out like Eos.

“Wait for the next flash,” he says.

After lightning strikes again, Narista grabs Eos’s hand. “I got it. I see it.”

Baer and I pull them into the tube, away from the edge.

“The solitaire,” Eos says. “It’s near the staircase, closer to the summit.”

SOLITAIRE TERRA

S07Y 154D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

The staircase up Core Mountain zigs and zags, switchbacking up the slope for ease of ascent, but also to avoid the rivers of lava streaming down the sides.

It occurs to me that for stairs to be carved into the mountainside, it probably means others walked here before us.

Considering there are seven solitaires for the seven systems, plus the extra one for Terra, and the Nemar were once far more numerous, I imagine heroes of old once walked this same mountain. But anyone who could have told me those tales from long ago is dead. Solterra was the last of the elders. And yet there may be hope in what Corona knows, in what she has stashed away in her databanks.

“Anyone have gloves?” I ask, focusing on the task. “It’s going to get hot up there.” No one does, so I remove my cloak and tear strips into it using my sword. I pass out the strips. “Wrap your palms and fingers as much as you can without reducing mobility.”

“That won’t stop the lava from burning us,” Baer says.

“The plan,” I say, “is to avoid falling into lava rivers. But it gets steep up there. We’re going to be leaning on our hands on those stairs.”

“I’ve got to ask,” Eos says, looking up. “Are you prepared to carry me?”

“Yes,” I say.

Before the others can speak, Eos goes on. “And if I’m powerless as the Terran Elemental, won’t the gem be as well? What does it gain us?”

“We don’t know the answer to that,” I say. “But stuff doesn’t just happen. This is our one chance to rescue you and that solitaire. We’re not going to blow it, even if we don’t understand its use yet.”

“It’s the key,” Narista says to my surprise. “You put the solitaire, elemental, and pod together, and eventually they go home.”

“Back to Terra? Back to Earth?” Baer asks.

“No,” she says. “Terra Prime. All we know is that this mythical planet is somewhere at the center of the seven systems.”

“That’s an awfully big somewhere,” I say.

She nods. “So, we get Eos into the Terran pod after we find it…”

“Plop the gem in.”

“And my boy gets better. Sorry, not so old.”

“And we follow it home,” I say.

“It’s how we find Terra Prime,” Baer says.

Eos agrees. “I’m all for getting young and for wild space rides. That’s cool. I’m glad we figured that out. But my hips are killing me.”

“We’ll take turns carrying you,” I say. “Now, get ready.”

The four of us spend a moment wrapping the cloth from my cloak around our hands and up our arms for protection. I tighten the strap on my sling sack and check the buckle holding my Lyricbook inside it. I tighten my belt and make sure my sword is secure.

“I’ll lead,” Narista says.

“In the middle, I’ll carry Eos,” I say.

“So, I’ll be staring at everyone’s butts,” Baer says.

“Think of it as saving our asses if we fall,” Narista says.

I look down a final time. As far as I can see, Core Mountain is surrounded by a cracked, blackened plain scarred by rivers of glowing orange lava. Firenadoes dance on the surface amongst the cracks, hopping over them. Lightning trails them, flashing in their wakes. The base of the funnels glow brighter as they suck up lava, while the tops get lost in the clouds, setting them aflame and pulling in lightning.

“Climb on my back,” I say to Eos. It’s not going to get any better or easier by waiting. He hesitates, but I reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’m strong in the impossible of Nemesis.”

Once he climbs on, Narista leads us upward.

For the first thousand steps, before he tires, Baer chitchats, trying to pass the time.

“Ever been to San Francisco?” he asks.

“No,” I reply.

“Seen pictures of Lombard Street?”

“Sure,” I say, navigating the next step. Eos is already tiring. It’s as hard for him to hold on as it is for me to climb, so I grab his hands around my neck with my right arm, holding him tighter.

“This is like Lombard Street from hell,” Baer says.

The zigzag staircase looms endlessly above us.

It’s better to not look up, I convince myself. Progress will be too slow. I’m not interested in being discouraged.

We rest every hour or so.

Both Narista and Baer offer to carry Eos, but it just isn’t that bad for me. If we ever make it out, I’m going to miss my super strength. I’ve always had endurance and the muscles to propel my own body weight in dance, but I could barely use my sword effectively.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

Still though, I’ll gladly give up the strength to get my other gifts back. I decide I’ll light up my palms back on the Rising Sun and watch them glow for a day.

I downcount each step, keeping track of how many left versus how many I’ve climbed.

“Twenty-five thousand,” I call out after a couple of hours.

Later, I mark twenty thousand.

We rest and then we march up, taking breaks every five thousand steps or so. And while there is no dusk or dawn, we sleep on the mountain’s staircase around the fifteen thousand mark.

Above us the caldera looms. Smoke puffs, heralding the molten lava spewing from it and joining the rivers of fire that scar the mountainside. The staircase, long ago cut into the slope, adeptly avoids fissures and magma, but broken risers and runners are constant hazards as we get higher.

More than once, Baer stands behind me, steadying me as I misstep.

Each time I admonish him to stay back. If he’s that close and I fall, he’ll go with me. If he leaves space, he’ll have a chance to catch us, stopping us if we roll backward.

“A simple thanks would be enough,” he says. “I’m going to stop you from falling. I won’t let it get to rolling.”

As we get higher, the lightning and firenadoes grow closer. The fire funnels that surround Core Mountain widen as the peak narrows, joining with the storm clouds. It’s hard sometimes to tell the flames in the sky from the lightning.

We rest again at ten thousand steps to go.

“It’s close,” Narista assures us.

And then Eos insists he must lead us the rest of the way.

It’s painfully slow, and we stop every flight—every zig before the next switchback zag—to let Eos rest.

When we’ve almost reached the cloud cover, we finally come upon the Terran solitaire: a colorless diamond set into the side of Core Mountain along a landing.

“It must have fallen from the Ferocity ship I destroyed,” Narista says, “and imbedded itself in the mountain.”

The Fire Clan encased the first four gems in Ferocity iron as a precaution, but they eventually fell to the Earth in peanut ships. Eos had to break the first two out—mine and Narista’s—after Baer and I found them in the Everglades. We found two more, Baer’s and Fusion’s, in Lubec, on the eastern shore of America. The next three were found in Emperor Cyrelax’s command ship.

But this one, the eighth gem, has never been taken by the Ferocity. They do not know of its existence.

It’s our one advantage in the coming Seventh Seven-Clan Civil War.

At eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight steps from the top, Eos puts his hand on the solitaire.

It glows at his touch, like a prism reflecting light. Yellow, gray, white, green, red, blue, and purple refract from the stone. The Terran solitaire is not a colorless diamond as it first appeared, but rather a rainbow of all the colors mixing.

It’s like The Dark Side of the Moon. Not the real dark side of the moon, which I was on a few months back, but the album, the one with a prism on the cover. My mom had the record and kept it near her Beatles albums. It was all way before her time, but DSM was the oddball in the bunch. I always wondered why she had it. Maybe Elle knew of the eighth elemental and solitaire. I saw into her mind when she was dying during the Eventide Blaze in the midst of the eclipse. Before she had me, maybe even on the date I was conceived, she had a vision of her future life, and of mine.

“Are you all right?” Narista asks.

“Reminds me of my mom,” I say. “I feel like she knew this would be here.”

“Did she say whether or not touching it will kill me?” Eos asks. He’s nearly grinning, but he’s serious about the question. Only the right solitaire bearer can touch a gem without an explosion.

“If you don’t get it,” Baer says, “you’re going to die of old age anyway.”

“No offense,” I add. “You’re supposed to say ‘no offense’ when you saying something so obviously offensive.”

“It’ll be okay,” Narista says to Eos.

He touches the solitaire, and the gem releases like the others do from the pods, with just a press from the intended bearer. From my sling sack I remove the necklace Eos made for my sun stone long ago in Everglades City. One of seven chains he gave to the bearers of the original seven stones. I replaced my necklace from Eos with an S-shaped pendant holder given to me by my grandmother, but I kept Eos’s original.

“Put the stone in this,” I say.

Eos snaps the solitaire into the chain and slips it over his neck.

The wind picks up, blowing his hair back, as lighting and fire battle in the sky at the mountain’s peak. For a moment, in the flashes and sparks, the three us see him in his youth of long ago.

Narista kisses him on the cheek. “Let’s find that pod for you now and get out of here.”

SWOOSH

S07Y 156D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Hard-fought victories on Nemesis have short celebrations.

The landing cracks beneath Eos’s feet, opening up a fissure. I jump to the next set of stairs, and Baer leaps behind me, but Eos tumbles backward. Narista falls to the ground, grabbing his hand as the mountain seeks to pull him under.

Baer dives for Narista’s foot as she slips over the edge into the chasm.

I leap, latching onto Baer’s legs.

“Pull him up,” I gasp as Baer slips toward the edge. I can’t hold them all for long.

From the crack, Eos yells, “It’s here. The pod is here.”

“Don’t you die,” Narista says.

I feel the weight on the end of the human chain decrease.

“Let me go, Baer,” Narista says. “I’ll follow him down.”

Again, the weight on my end, and the effort it takes to hold them up, decreases. I pull on Baer, and he pushes back from the edge.

“What happened?” I ask, pulling him toward me.

“She let him go,” he says. “And then she went in after him.”

He pushes himself up, and we sit holding each other, staring at the fissure.

Gray smoke puffs from the hole, forming a cloud.

The mist reverses direction a moment later, swooshing downward.

“What are you two waiting for?” Narista shouts. “Come on down and help us with this.”

Baer and I peer over the edge. Narista and Eos are obscured by the mist flowing in and out of the fissure like smoke from a wizard’s pipe.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s not a big drop. Maybe ten feet or so. Just stay close to the wall. We’ll stay on the other side. There’s a cave here.”

I don’t want to go into another cavern.

“How are we going to get you back up,” Baer asks, “if we’re down there?”

“Don’t worry,” Narista says. “We’re not going back up that way.”

I look at him. “You first.”

“Wait,” he says, looking over the edge. Like me, he can’t see the bottom of the crack. “You’re supposed to say, ‘I’ll go first.’ Isn’t that how it works?”

“I don’t want to go first.” There are times like this where I don’t want to be brave. I don’t want to be a hero. I’d rather just see the League of Ex-Presidents appear out of the sky and save us.

Baer smiles. He’s doesn’t snoop often, but he’s heard my thoughts. “I’d rather have a League of Ex-Quarterbacks. Nobody wants to see old men in tights. We’re already conditioned to see football players in them.”

“I don’t see the sky opening up for either rescue team.”

“You picked a fine time not to be the first volunteer,” he says. “You’re always doing that. Surprising me.”

“I’m mixing it up,” I say.

“Fine. We’ll go together.”

We dangle our legs over the fissure, count to three, and then  push off, hand in hand.

STANDBY

S07Y 157D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

It’s not much of a drop. Once we hit the ground, Narista says from inside the cave, “Standby, I’m trying to time it.”

“Do you have the pod?” I ask.

“It’s right here,” she says. "Just wait. The mist will clear.”

Deeper in the cave, I see a faint purple glow lighting up the steam.

“She’s checking things out with her gem,” Baer says.

You think?

“Describe the pod,” I say. I extend my hands in front of me and use my feet to sense the terrain. I don’t want to fall into a chasm. Baer removes Striker and pokes it ahead of us, tapping the ground and accomplishing the same thing as me without looking like a zombie.

I drop my hands and follow his lead.

“It looks like a Terran trash can,” she says. “No, that’s not right. More like a Porta-Potty.”

There was one of those on Cyrelax’s ship. And we used it as a bathroom. The Ferocity had unwittingly turned the final pod into a waste disposal unit. They either couldn’t believe in an eighth gem or weren’t going to allow the emergence of an eighth clan that would rival their billions of people. It was easier to kill nearly eight billion people.

The ground shakes. Rocks tumble behind us, closing the cavern we just entered. We can only move forward now.

“Does it still have the black veins, clear exterior, and inset for the solitaire?” I ask. “Because we’re getting buried in here.”

“I heard that,” she says. “Just stay away from the crack. I’m still trying to time this. That’ll get us out of here.”

“What?” Baer asks, guiding me along in the fog with his staff.

“We’re trying to find you,” I say. “We can’t get out the way we came in. The fissure is sealed up already.”

“I’ll do it,” Eos says. “Solstice?”

“Yeah?”

“Just keep asking your questions and follow my voice.”

“What’s the symbol near where the gem inset is?”

Eos and Narista banter indiscernibly back and forth until it devolves into an argument. Whatever the symbol is, Eos doesn’t like it. Mine’s just a circle. Baer’s is a solid circle. Air is a spiral. Earth is a couple of plants. Fire is a flame. Water is a wave. Narista’s is an N.

“You think this is just hilarious,” he says. “Fine! Whatever. Have it your way.”

“It’s a boob,” Narista says.

“What?” Baer yells back into the fog.

I can’t help but laugh as I picture the eight symbols in my mind.

“I can hear you laughing, Solstice Dayton. I have no powers. Now this? Seriously. And I’m still old. Being the Terran Elemental has got to be the worst job ever. And just so you know, it’s a circle—a two-dimensional representation of a sphere—with a dot in the middle. Definitely not a boob.”

“A crude map,” I say. “Another sign that Terra Prime is the center of our galaxy, found between all the other systems.”

Baer taps the floor in front of us with Striker. The voices are getting louder and Narista’s gem brighter.

“Don’t move,” she says. “No. Duck now.”

“She said don’t move,” Baer says.

“Duck!”

Baer and I drop to the ground. The mist is sucked toward Narista. For a minute, we have visibility and can see the two others twenty feet away.

“Wait for it,” she says.

The fog rushes back at us, sliding over our bodies and up through the remaining cracks in the cavity we jumped from.

“You can get up now,” Narista says.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Farther into the cave.”

“I can’t see a thing.”

“Just follow my voice.”

“What are you timing?” I ask to the fog. Timing and counting are my thing, not hers.

We step through the mist into a narrower cavern.

“Don’t step in the water,” Narista says.

At the center of the cavern there’s a hole filled with bubbling. water.

On the ground a few feet away, the Terran pod lies on its side. It’s really just like the other ones, except it’s in a bigger case, like a pod within a pod, and the outer pod does look like a Porta-Potty. I bet it could hold three or four people along with the pod. Maybe the Porta-Potty-looking thing was an escape pod from the Ferocity ship. Somebody got the gem and Terran pod in there, but not themselves.

“Terrans get no respect,” Eos jokes. “No powers. Boob symbol. Potty pod. And a colorless gem.”

“That’s what’s going to make you so badass,” I say. “You’re going to have to do all the shit we do without all the help.”

“Don’t say shit,” Narista cracks. “He’s sensitive about it.”

Eos rolls his eyes.

“Hold on while I take another look,” she says.

She leans over the hole and looks upward while Eos holds onto her. “You can see the sky from here,” she says. “All the fire and lightning. Top of the volcano too.”

“Be quick,” Eos says. “You don’t know when it’s going to go again.”

“Yes, I do,” she says. “I timed it.”

“What did you time?” I ask. This slipstream must really be the impossible if she figured out some math thing before me.

“The geyser, of course,” she says. “We’re going to ride it to the top in the Terran trash can.”

SEAFIRE

S07Y 159D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

After the geyser blows again, I peer up the hole. It’s not like I can see lava, because if I could it would come flowing down, but this must be an old lava tube. Somehow, the geyser’s water source must connect to the underground sea.

“The tube,” Narista says, “must travel up to the surface parallel to active lava tubes.”

“That’s reassuring,” Baer says.

She points at the Terran trash can. “This here is an escape pod. If it can handle the friction of atmospheric reentry, it can handle a geyser, or even lava for that matter.”

The boys nod like she’s got it totally figured out. Spaceships that crash onto land can handle blasting off from land. It’s just common sense. They’re ignoring cracks, though. If the Porta-Potty was damaged and cracked, then it’s going to fall apart on us.

“I’m not riding to the surface in that piece of trash propelled by some sort of seafire,” I say. “How do we know it’ll get us to the top? How do we know it’ll move through lava? This thing fell from space. That’s like through air or nothing. It didn’t make it through water or magma. It fell down the singularity.”

“Don’t try doing the math,” Narista says. “This is like a spaceship and it’s our ticket out into space.”

“Nope,” I say. “This is stupid.” Something is inherently wrong with this, and it’s not just because it was my sister’s idea.

“I’m in charge,” I say. “No way we’re not doing that. Right, Baer? Right, Baer?”

Baer, the idiot, looks away. Really?

“Um,” he says, like he’s talking to the geyser. “We are on Nemesis, and Narista’s the one who put this whole slipstream together. She built that Dusk Singularity ship antennae thing, got Eos here, got us to the actual singularity, and she’s had the visions and stuff.”

“No way,” I say. “Soleria are in charge. I’m Queen.”

“No, you’re not,” Narista snaps. “You said no thanks to that. It’s passed to the Nemar. And as the only living Nemar, I’m Queen of the Galaxy, Princess. I will not live in your shadow.”

Ugh.

Does this fight have to be today? Does it have to be now?

But this is what this is all about. Narista leading this mission. Baer’s right. But how can I back down?

Baer and Eos each take a step back as Narista squares off in front of me. She lights the blacklight in her palms. I take a step forward, lifting my left hand, ready to smack her. I hate being the princess. She knows that. But then something weird happens. Without even knowing why, just as we’re about to cause some serious damage to each other, we lower our arms and step into a hug.

“It’s yours,” I say. “I never wanted to be anybody but Solstice.” That’s true. Baer doesn’t want to rule either. We’re like rebel commanders, not heads of state. In fact, when I was Queen of Terra, I always took off on missions and delegated the real governing.

Baer lays a hand on my shoulder. “What do you think they call the leader of Terra Prime?”

“Besides Eos?” Eos asks.

We all laugh.

The Prime Terran is the logical answer, but in all caps and said with a booming voice and a slight echo.

I am the Princess. I am doomed to bear that title, and I can live with that.

My sister, Narista, the Duchess of Darkness, head and last of the Nemar, is far better equipped to rule after the war.

But until then, I will lead the fight.

“I defer to you, my Queen,” I say, “on this matter.” I even do a little curtsy. “And if you’re willing, we’ll talk our way through other decisions.”

“Thank God,” Baer says.

“So what’s the plan?” Eos asks. “I’m far too old to break up a fight between you two.”

“It’s time to say good-bye,” Narista says. “You need to go in the pod. It’s time for you to sleep and regenerate.”

“We can wait,” he says. “Let’s wait till we’re back on the ships.”

“She’s right,” I say, figuring it out as I say the words. “Time doesn’t flow the same way in the singularity. We’ve been here like seventy days, but it kind of feels like one never-ending sucky day. How often have we slept? When’s the last time we ate?”

“We don’t talk about that,” Baer says.

I smile.

“If we put you in the pod now,” Narista says, “I’m betting you’ll age back faster.”

“How long was Baer in his pod?” Eos asks. He steps toward the geyser, away from the Terran pod.

“Careful,” Narista says. “We don’t want you getting pushed out by that in nothing but your clothes.”

“A long time,” Baer answers. “A short time. I was alive when Narista put me in. And then my pod eventually ended back at Aetha Prime. I was heading for that system’s star, but my grandson saved me.”

“How is Braeger?” Eos asks.

“Dead.”

“What about Lani, Jordin, Kase, and Fusion?”

“You know they’re dead,” I say.

“We can’t keep dragging your ass all over this star,” Narista says.

“Seems like people who go in the pods or get near them end up dead,” Eos says. “Anybody who fought in the Sixth Seven-Clan Civil War and took possession of a pod ended up dead.”

“We all hate it,” Narista says. “Get in the pod. You’re not going to live much longer if you don’t regenerate.”

She grabs Eos and kisses him, holding him. “Do it, Baer.”

Baer removes Striker from the sheath on his back like he’s going to conk Eos.

“Wait,” I say. “He’s got to do it willing. Deep down he’s got to want it or it won’t work. Cyrelax and Parallax always said we had to do it with our own free will.”

“I don’t want you to smack him, Baer,” Narista says. “I just need you to help him get in.”

“Oh,” Baer says. “My mistake. You did say ‘do it.’”

“No conking, dude,” Eos says.

“You need to put the gem in the door, Eos,” Narista says, “and kiss me before you go in.”

“You sure you want one?” he asks. He’s probably added a couple dozen wrinkles since we found him.

“Of course.” She grabs him by the collar and pulls him toward her. He stumbles like an old man, but she just smiles and pushes back his gray hair. “You’re hot for an old guy. And this just tells me how good you’re going to look the next time you get older.”

“I’m doing this one reboot,” he says. “To save the galaxy and all that. It’s not natural. And we had a good life. But you don’t get to do this to me again.”

“Here’s to one more life together then,” she says, leaning into him. She kisses him, sliding her hands through his hair as she does.

Baer and I watch. And I’m surprised Narista didn’t argue that he should keep regenerating. Maybe she’ll wait till he’s old again, or maybe she agrees with him.

I smile at Baer. Will I ask him to do it again? But I don’t have to rush, and I need to be fair to Robynn. She’s his wife, after all. I probably wouldn’t have thought of her since she’s dead, but seeing all these lost souls in Narista’s slipstream makes me think that life must continue on some other plane of existence. So Robynn is waiting, and I must consider my best friend’s feelings. Not so much that I give up Baer anytime soon—I’m not that nice—but later, when he’s old and gets all whiny and wrinkly, it’ll be easier to let him go.

You’d think positive confirmation of an afterlife would get me all excited.

But it doesn’t.

Not really.

Because it doesn’t seem to be my fate.

Not that I’m asking to die, but immortality can be a curse as much as a blessing.

I bet my grandmother welcomed her death.

Baer leaves my side and extends his right hand to Eos. “Doesn’t hurt a bit. The dreams are a bit weird, and you may need a few days or weeks to remember all of what you once were, but it should come back.”

Eos puts his clear solitaire in the inset on the outside of the Terran pod, then he opens the door and climbs in.

“Once we get you secured,” I say, “we’ll close the door of the escape pod—the Terran trash can—and stand you upright.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Narista says.

Eos closes his eyes, and we shut the pod door.

We stand up the escape pod, still holding the Terran pod.

We wait for the geyser to blow, and then Narista starts downcounting to the next eruption.

We slide the escape pod over the geyser. The corners of the rectangle barely rest on the edges of the circular hole. We check on Eos. He’s already asleep. I can’t be sure, but his gray hair looks like it has darkened a bit to black.

Narista, Baer, and I climb in and close the door, securing the latch from the inside. Narista lights up a palm and sheds purple light on the interior of the escape pod. The three of us have to stand. It’s about as crowded as a Porta-Potty would be with three people and a casket in it. So, it’s tight, but it doesn’t smell.

Above us there’s a skylight, but the mist rising through the geyser tube limits our visibility. We know what’s up there, though, if we make it. Fire clouds, lightning, and lava.

The three of us wait for the geyser to blow as Narista downcounts to the next eruption.

STEAM

S07Y 160D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Just after Narista says, “Eleven,” Baer says, “T-minus ten seconds and counting.” Which is longer than a second and screws nine.

“Eight,” Narista says.

I don’t even know what a T-minus is.

“Seven.”

“It’s what NASA says,” Baer explains.

“Five.” Six totally got screwed.

“Four,” Narista says. “Brace yourself.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

The three of us hold onto the Terran pod inside the Ferocity escape pod, waiting to blast off like a rocket propelled by the geyser.

But it’s all quiet.

Baer puts his hand on the latch to open the escape pod.

“Wait,” Narista says. “Just give it a few seconds.”

“Anyone ever see that video on YouTube,” he asks, “where a sewer flood causes a geyser?”

“We don’t have YouTube,” Narista says.

“Or phones,” I add. “Or technology on Terra.”

“The manhole blew,” he says. “It lifted a car.”

“How high?” I ask, hopeful.

“Like two feet, and just the rear wheels.”

“That’s not very high,” Narista says. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“It was a Canadian sewer,” he adds.

“Oh,” I say. Like somehow I’m supposed to think that Canada has sucky sewers. Actually, I don’t know what he means. He’s always saying stuff that makes no sense.

“What?” Narista asks. “So what?”

Beneath us, water flows upward, pushing on the escape pod.

Narista squeezes the Terra pod. “Hang on, Eos. Here we go.” Considering he’s strapped in and already asleep, if anyone is going to weather this well, it’ll be him.

“Won’t the water just squirt sideways?” I ask.

“Not once we’re in the tube,” Narista says. “Remember how we filled the Washington Monument—Spike—with water? It’ll be like that.”

The escape pod lifts off the ground, pushed upward by the geyser as it erupts. I brace my hands between Eos’s pod and the door of the escape pod. The geyser forces us up like ten feet until we hit the cavern roof. For a moment we scrape the ceiling like a coin circling a drain. But then the Ferocity escape pod and the tube line up, and we accelerate upward, propelled by hydraulic pressure.

We ride the flow, traveling toward the surface. But no one did the math, not really. In order for the geyser to reach the surface some thirty thousand feet above us, we’d have to travel at jet-level speeds.

We fly upward inside the capsule, hitting our heads on its ceiling a foot above us. A second later, we drop to the floor. The escape pod shakes as it reaches a speed that reminds me of when Baer, Nadir, and I fell from the sky in a plane.

The skin on my face is pushed into my cheeks as we reach exit velocity. The gravitational forces are too strong to remain conscious. My last thought before I pass out is, what if the tube narrows? We’ll be like a cork in a champagne bottle without the safety wire and foil.

“We don’t even have a muselet,” I croak as I pass out.

SMOKE

S07Y 161D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

We awake in darkness.

“Muselet?” Baer asks. “I knew you read the encyclopedia as a kid. This just proves it.”

“What?” Narista asks, lighting up the capsule with blacklight.

“It’s the wire cage that holds a cork in a champagne bottle,” I say.

Narista stands. “So?”

“Up is still up. If we had cleared the shaft, we’d be upside down or on our side. Nobody gets shot from a geyser and lands right side up.”

“I’m pretty sure no one rides geysers,” Baer says. “Not besides us.”

“We’re a cork,” I say. “We need to get out now.”

Baer and I get to our feet.

Beneath us, mist rises into the capsule.

“What’s that smoke?” Narista asks.

The floor buckles, curving upward a few inches. I fall into Eos’s pod as I try to gain my balance.

“Break the skylight,” Baer says. He raises his hands, releasing gray electricity, sensing the danger and not waiting for us to agree or disagree with him.

Narista adds blacklight, raising her arms as well. Like they did in battle years ago, Aetha and Nemar combine their powers. The overhead viewport blasts upward.

“More,” Narista says. “Knock the whole roof off, so we can pull Eos and the pod out.”

I disconnect the cables, wires, and straps holding the Terran pod in the capsule. While I work, Baer and Narista bombard the top of the escape pod with their gifts.

Water sprays upward from the floor, forcing its way through the Ferocity iron.

“Quickly,” I say.

The roof blows off the capsule, revealing the sky above. We’re caught in the very top of the geyser tube. Lightning and flames spark in the clouds above us.

“Climb,” I command.

“But the pod,” Narista says.

“I’m the strongest. I’ll push it up to you two.”

I interlace my hands and crouch down.

Baer puts his foot on my hands and grabs onto the top of Eos’s pod. He reaches the top and leans against the shattered and twisted metal of the capsule opening.

“Ouch!” he shouts. “The ground is hot.”

The floor buckles under me, and a square panel crumples before it goes flying upward, propelled by hydraulic pressure, barely missing Narista.

The panel gets stuck next to Baer in the opening.

The metal square is hot too, so he pulls down his sleeves before pushing it out of the opening. “I was almost a lot thinner,” he says.

Water squirts upward, spraying me and my sister.

“Go!” I say.

Narista puts a foot on my hands and climbs.

The Terran pod, now wet, is slippery. She falls back toward me, but Baer grabs her arm.

He pulls her up as I push her feet.

They climb out of the capsule, balancing on the remnants of its roof at the top of the geyser tube.

I wiggle the Terran pod toward the center of the escape capsule, While steadying it, I use its buoyancy and the water pressure to lift it a few inches off the ground.

But I can’t force it up anymore. It’s too heavy.

Water pools at my ankles, warming them through my boots.

It’s not as hot as it is at exit velocity in the cave, which is near boiling.

“I’m going to have to ride it up,” I say as water sprays everywhere and upward.

“Isn’t it hot?” Baer yells.

“It’s not bad. Like a shower.”

The water rises up to my knees in the capsule, lifting the pod higher.

The floor beneath me shakes.

Baer leans down into the capsule. “Just a little higher.”

Another panel breaks loose, but it doesn’t go flying, held back by the rising water.

When the water reaches my waist, the pod floats high enough that Baer and Narista can grip the cables at the back of the pod as it rises above the capsule opening.

They pull the pod up and to the left, free of the capsule. It falls to the ground next to Narista. Inside, I assume Eos continues to dream peacefully.

I crouch and then jump.

Baer grabs my hand as I leap to the top of the capsule.

He pulls me toward him as water rushes into the capsule.

Narista grabs onto him, steadying him.

The three of us fall backward, landing next to Eos’s pod.

The geyser breaks through the capsule—the cork—destroying it and sending shards of Ferocity iron upward.

Standing on the rim of the mountaintop, we watch the water spray in front of us. The blast last several more seconds, until the pressure dissipates.

We follow the water’s path into the sky as it battles the flame clouds and lightning above us. At eighty-eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight feet, we are nearly in those clouds. The air is thin, and we gasp as much from the low oxygen as from the spectacle of it all.

The geyser ceases, and the last of the water retreats back down the shaft.

We smile at each other, sure the worst is behind us.

The mountain roars, shaking the ground. As the mist clears, we realize we are on the edge of a super caldera, the volcano’s peak.

Lava shoots up from another tube, challenging the last of the geyser’s water as it retreats, but also the flame clouds and lightning.

Narista clutches my hand, as I do Baer’s.

Above us, the bottom of the singularity swirls, funneling upward from the top of the volcano. Again I think how it’s like we’re caught in the center of an hourglass with the universe releasing all of its most powerful forces around us.

I close my eyes and open them a second later.

Just to make sure it’s real.

Nowhere is safe, not even the rim we balance on.

And we need to get up into the funnel—back into the singularity.

SLIPSTREAM THEORY

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

I look up at the singularity and then down at the super caldera. I picture where we came from and where we found Eos’s pod, knowing something is off. There’s more than one pod in Nemesis’s core.

And there’s more than one life to save.

I don’t understand it all, but not everyone here is dead. They’re just lost.

“What are you doiiiinnnnggggggggg?” Baer asks, his voice slowing to a near stop. He’s leaning forward onto Eos’s pod, helping to steady Narista, but she’s not moving either.

Everything slows, including the sparks on the wind that surround us, except for the swirling singularity.

I have a short list. It includes a best friend and four people who have lately been indifferent to me.

Terra Prime is too big a prize to capture with a handful of allies. Each of the Elementals will need to rally their people. But I fear we will fall short, and the efforts of eight will not be enough.

An old friend once said, one more is way better. But how much better is eight more?

There are eight solitaires, but sixteen who can arguably hold them.

Baer and Narista, like Eos in the pod, are completely frozen, stopped in time on the edge of the volcano next to me. I am the Solstice Dayton, literally the sun sister of time and place. Certain gifts were given to me, and with them come certain responsibilities.

I’m at the center of the hourglass. Like a single grain of sand, I can see what is to come and what has come before.

I look at the geyser hole and, before I can change my mind, run toward it and jump headfirst.

Pointing my hands downward, I fly back down the tube. I don’t know when the next eruption of water will come, and I should have thought this through better, but with time suspended above me, I imagine this is the only moment to do what I couldn’t do so long ago as the variant.

Robynn, Fusion, and Kase were in the naked cavern, and Jordin and Lani were at Portsmouth High School. That does not mean, however, they are there now.

Technically, this is Narista’s slipstream, and I don’t know why some people are dead and some are lost. And I really should put more effort into finding more of them again, like Nyx and Matine and all the Sun Maidens.

But I have five at the top of the list. So, I should start at the top of my list.

Behind my eyes, sparks form.

I see my birth and then all the long lives I’ve lived.

And yet I know I am only nearing twenty-two years.

I did not live the long lives of the others in Austin on Terra.

And those twenty-eight decades in the slipstream as the variant are not real. Not to me anyway.

The Slipstream Theory states space-time is what you perceive it to be.

As I fly downward, I feel like I’m making even less sense than I should, especially after having just invented the fundamental theorem of applied neuro-quantum mechanics.

Immediately, I think of a corollary.

The Slipstream Corollary postulates that only what you perceive to be real has a quantifiable value.

Who did the stating and the postulating?

The answer is me, just now.

Did I actually see Robynn, Fusion, Kase, Lani, and Jordin die in Austin?

The answer is no.

And if I didn’t, does that fact—their deaths—exist in my universe?

The walls of the cavern rush by. I am flying straight to the center of the core, below the seven levels of Nemesis, and there is no end in sight to my descent.

For a minute, I imagine all those that I can save. But for the Slipstream Corollary to be true and for me to apply it, that means that because I saw Nyx, Matine, Elle, and so many others die, in order for me to save anyone I didn’t see die, those that are dead must actually be dead.

Technically, I did not see 7.7 billion people die. At most, I saw about five hundred thousand people die. That’s a lot to be sure, and it includes most of my friends. But it’s not like I saw Terra blow up. Sure, I saw the burn and the daze, but I have no positive confirmation that everyone who lived on Terra is dead.

Just the people I especially liked, with one more exception.

Kyra’s not dead, either, but she’s not here, which means she’s still alive on Terra.

So, if the theory and corollary are true, then I can only save five. Which seems stupid. Shouldn’t the answer be seven or eight?

But this is Narista’s slipstream, so maybe sevens and eights don’t matter as much.

This all makes me think I need something besides a theory and a corollary. I was physicist once, before or after I was the Lady Prez for one hundred days. What I need is a lemma or a proposition to wrap things up. A lemma helps prove a theorem while a proposition is an interesting result.

The Slipstream Proposition indicates that if space-time is what you perceive it to be and only what you perceive has quantifiable value, then for both to be true, the opposite cannot be.

Honestly, I wish I could pull my Lyricbook out of my sling sack and write this down so I don’t forget before I fly into the bottom of this cavernous tube.

The best I can do is hope to memorize it and recall everything when I need it.

So, I repeat it all with bold and italics in my head, adding a porism for good measure.

The Slipstream Theory of Neuro-Quantum Mechanics.

Space-time is what you perceive it to be.

Only what you perceive to be real has a quantifiable value.

For both to be true, the opposite cannot be.

Or the universe would cease to exist.

SOLERIA

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

The first thing you do after revolutionizing the world of science and philosophy is to bang your head. All the greats do it. Whatever I was flying down comes to an end.

I wake up on the ground with a sore noggin. Unfortunately, there is no apple in sight. Everything is hot and orange, but at least there’s no lava. If I had thought hard enough and wasn’t altering neurology and physics on a fundamental level, I might have stopped to consider that a willful dive into the core of a star can only lead to a plunge into stellar plasma.

Fortunately, Nemesis insists on being different from every other star I’ve seen.

Still though, even for a Soleria, it seems impossibly bright at the center of the core.

“Check your purse,” a voice says.

“It’s a sling sack!” I shout, completely unsure why I’m all defensive about a totally reliable over-the-shoulder leather carryall. It could also be called a messenger bag or a satchel.

I open my sling sack. Next to my empty water bottle, pink Sharpie, and my Lyricbook, there are a handful of sketches and Baer’s Wayfarer sunglasses.

Putting on the sunglasses, I ask the voice from afar, “How did you know they’d be there?”

“He’s thoughtful like that, and I bet he didn’t want to carry them,” the girl replies.

“Hang on a second,” I say, and I write down The Slipstream Theory of Neuro-Quantum Mechanics as fast as I can in my Lyricbook.

When I look up again, Robynn is standing in front of me. “What’s so important that you can’t hug an old friend?” she asks.

“The theorem on saving your ass.”

She smiles. “We’ve come a long way from bunkmates on the Rising Sun sailing to Magic City.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around me.

I don’t know why, but I decide to just put it out there. “I could love you,” I say, “if it wasn’t for Baer.”

“Do you love Baer?” she asks.

White light surrounds her, and for the first time in forever, I am not the brightest thing around. I adjust the sunglasses, pushing them tighter to my eyes.

“Yes, of course I love him,” I say. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant, because you love him.”

“He’s my husband.”

It should be tragic, but it really isn’t. I can be happy for them as a couple, and my time with Baer isn’t done anyway.

“You’re not dead,” I say.

“Question or answer?” she asks.

“Answer,” I say as quickly as possible. To not believe it with all my heart would make it untrue and nullify the Slipstream Theory.

“I am not dead,” she says. “But I don’t know how I got here or why I didn’t tell you that before, when we last saw each other.”

“Narista pulled you here, just like Eos. She’s lived through multiple slipstreams. She’s not quite herself, but I imagine stashed somewhere near the caldera are seven more pods. Somehow on Austin, all of you must have gotten into them.”

“Who are we putting back in them?” Robynn asks.

“You,” I reply. “Along with Lani, Jordin, Fusion, and Kase. They’re all here.”

“What about the Nether pod or the Aether pod?”

She has obviously figured that she’ll be in the Sun pod and the others in the Air, Water, Fire, and Earth pods.

“Shade?” I ask. “No, that can’t be right. I’ve seen her die over and over in Narista’s mind when she stabbed her.”

“Braeger?” Robynn asks.

“Not here,” I say. “No, it can’t be him.”

“So, no Aether or Nether.”

“No,” I say. “Things don’t always make sense in Narista’s slipstream. I have no powers, but I’m strong.”

“No way. Prove it.”

I put my hands on Robynn’s waist and lift her.

“Okay, I’m in,” she says, even though I forgot to ask. “And I don’t care if Baer is old by the time we’re reunited.”

“He can’t know,” I say, “not yet. I’ll be sending you back without us.”

“So, do we find pods or people first?”

“People. I’ve always made Baer last, but since this slipstream is the opposite of anything I’d do, I think we should do the opposite.”

“What’s the opposite then?” 

“I’d probably try to save your brother or Kase first,” I say, “because one likes me and the other hates me. I’d get Kase out of the way because she’d be the hardest. But since this is the opposite, I say we go for Lani.” I pause. “I should have saved her long ago when I saw her in St. Louis. My mother did it for me back then when I was too scared.”

“Like you said, that was long ago,” Robynn says. “When did you last see her here?”

“At a high school, but I imagine she’s fallen out of that. You’re not where I last saw you.”

“Okay,” Robynn says. “Lead on.”

SISTER

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Robynn and I walk deeper into the orange glow of Nemesis’s core.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asks. “Because I’m not sure we’re getting there. We’ve been walking toward the orange glow for days while in an orange glow, maybe weeks, yet we still haven’t reached it.”

“Time has not elapsed,” I say. “I’m not even sure if any of you will remember this later. Above us, between the singularity vortex and the super caldera, time has stopped.”

“Oh, is that all?” Robynn asks. “How about a snappy song to make it all relatable?”

“There’s no song in the singularity.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Hey!” a voice yells. “Wait up. Stop walking so fast.”

“You catch up,” Robynn yells behind us. “That’s how it works, isn’t it?” she says to me. “You endlessly walk up some stairs or perpetually fall downward, or walk forever across the orange flats of the core and then someone appears.”

“That sums it up,” I say. “Except only Baer and Eos fall. Narista and I fly. And you’re leaving out the parts about rivers of shit, fire, nettles, ghosts, lakes, and dust storms.”

Lani comes up behind us. “Did you hear me?”

“We did,” I say. “But we need to keep moving.”

“What the hell is going on?” she asks.

“You’re not dead. The war to save the galaxy is far from over, and we need to get out from inside a dark star’s core before time restarts.”

“And the others?” Lani asks, matching her pace to ours.

“We’ve got Baer, Narista, and Eos up at the top of a volcano, and the rest of you are stuck down here.”

“Why Robynn?” Lani asks. “No offense,” she says to the other girl, “and I really do mean that even though people don’t when they say it.”

“Narista is controlling the slipstream,” I say. “And things don’t always make sense. If this was my slipstream, you’d be freaking out—even if I hate the word freak—but instead you are perfectly calm.”

“Being undead makes you that way,” Lani says.

Still, she looks unsatisfied with my answer to Why Robynn?, which happens pretty much all the time and not just with her. so I whisper, “She’s for your brother but also for me.” I don’t know why, but I add, “We’ve got some equations to balance, and the math doesn’t add up without her.”

“What’d you think is happening?” Robynn asks, ignoring whispers she can obviously hear. “Because I don’t know why I was doing the things I was doing here.”

“I didn’t think about what was going on here,” Lani says. “That must be part of it all.”

I shrug in answer. “We just keep walking in the orange glow, and someone else will show up next.”

“Now that I am thinking,” Lani says, “how did we get here?”

“Something about pods,” Robynn says, “and Narista being mad and pulling us all here with her mind.”

“Do you remember getting in a pod in Austin?” I ask Lani.

“No. And it makes me wonder if Austin was real.”

“Your grandchildren are around,” I say. “And that’s real.”

“Grandchild,” Lani says. “I only had one. How is Aerynn?”

“Technically, I haven’t found her yet. But she’s not dead. She’s with the Ferocity or on Airo.”

Both Robynn and Lani give me weird looks.

“You guys have been gone a long time,” I say. “When we leave here, hopefully you will willingly go in a pod after we find them, and you’ll get younger and remember stuff that happened to me but not you.”

“Shouldn’t I be an old lady?” Lani asks, looking at her relatively young-looking arms. “If I’m a grandmother?”

“Listen,” I reply, “you look great. Like twenty-four. And Robynn is like twenty-six or something. I can’t go explaining Slipstream Theory to you, but let’s just say you were never old to me, so maybe you are not really old. Which doesn’t make a lot of sense since you have descendants, but I can’t save you and figure things out while I do it. And I’m pretty sure we need you, but we also need Aerynn. Again, it’s something about balance that I don’t get yet because I don’t see the future anymore.”

“But you get lost in time,” Robynn says, smirking.

“I’m glad you guys are cool with all this,” I say. “Because I’m pretty sure, she’s not.”

Off in the distance, Jordin is stomping toward us. I can’t hear her footfalls, but I can just tell she’s angrily marching toward me.

SHUI

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Of all the Elementals, everyone knows Jordin is the nicest and the smallest. So, it’s a complete surprise when (A) she punches me and (B) I fall on my ass.

“What the hell?” she says. “Weren’t we clear enough in Austin that we weren’t going to fight your galactic war and we wanted to live out our lives, grow old, and die peacefully?”

“Yes,” I say, rubbing my jaw. Like Lani and Robynn, she’s quickly becoming self-aware of this quasi-existence in the core of Nemesis.

“And what’s with all this bright light?” she says. “Everywhere I look, it’s yellow or orange or yellow-orange.”

I want to offer up my sunglasses as I push myself off the ground, but this being the opposite, I figure I can’t handle bright lights, especially those emanating from Nemesis.

“It should be purple light,” I say. “It just goes to prove that at the heart of anything Nemar it’s really something Soleria.”

“Not helpful!” Jordin snaps. “Make me dead again.”

“I don’t think we died,” Lani says.

“The children?” she asks her wife.

“We need to keep walking,” I say. Far behind us, the orange-yellow light is bending like a waterfall plunging off an edge into a dark chasm. “And I’ll answer questions as best as I can.”

We keep walking whatever direction straight is.

“Annie and Kaylani are gone” I say, referring to her children by Fusion and Baer. “But your granddaughter, Hali–Kayhali–is waiting for me, and Everet is still out there somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you say waiting for me?” Jordin asks.

“Because we have to go in a pod,” Robynn says.

“And show up later,” Lani adds, “all fixed up and hopefully a little less pissed off.”

“Solitaires?” Jordin asks.

“On my ship,” I say. “On the Rising Sun.”

“How did you get your boat out here?” all three ask.

I don’t know who knows what anymore, and the chasm behind us sucking up the orange-yellow light seems like it’s getting closer, so I start to jog.

The others linger until I yell, “Come on. Look behind you.”

“What’s going on?” one of them asks from behind me as they struggle to catch up.

Another one says, “I don’t like how that thing behind us is sucking up stuff.”

And the third asks, “What did you do, Solstice?”

“We’re at the center of a collapsing dark star,” I answer. “The Rising Sun isn’t a boat anymore, it’s a spaceship. And space-time is folding in on itself, but at the moment, the universe is kind of confused. Maybe there are too many paradoxes floating around, and time is stuck in space. And as long as things are stuck, I can get you out.”

“That’s the worse synopsis ever,” Robynn says.

I’ve definitely heard that before, but covering old ground is not my thing.

“We’re in space?” Jordin asks.

“Why did you mess up the universe?” Lani asks.

I have no good answers. But we need to run faster. The moving suck-it chasm is growing. It looks less like a light waterfall now and more like a light vortex.

Out of nowhere, but from behind us, Fusion runs directly into the four of us, knocking all of us to the ground.

“There’s a light tornado chasing me!” he gasps.

SECRET FIRE

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

I kiss Fusion on the cheek. I’d forgotten how awesome he looks, even though I’ve already seen him here in the star and he’s a dazer. “Get up,” I say. “All of you are alive and I’m here to save you.”

“I’m in,” he says with zero follow-up questions.

Good old Fusion. He doesn’t even ask about his best friend Truit, who I definitely saw die in Key West in the middle of the Ferocity attack and therefore must be dead.

“Run!” I yell.

The light vortex is close enough to pull our hair backward, even Fusion’s tight curls.

Robynn pats her brother’s arm as we dash off. “Yep, you’re real. Don’t worry, we’ll find Kase next.”

“She’ll be pissed,” Fusion says.

“I’m pissed!” Jordin says. “Dead people should stay dead!”

“Nobody remembers dying,” I say. “Therefore, you are not dead.”

I glance over my shoulder. “And the alternative is to be sucked up into that light vortex thing and end up who knows where.”

“Where are we going?” Lani asks, jogging on my left.

Neptune. Aetha Prime. A voice long gone says this to me. Melody?

“Solstice!” Jordin says. “Where are we going?”

“Four of you to Neptune,” I reply. “Robynn will be on her own, heading to Aetha Prime.”

“Why?” Robynn asks.

I shouldn’t say that a voice in my head, my old friend back from the dead, told me to say that, but I say it anyway. “A voice in my head told me.”

No one complains.

It’s because this is the opposite.

And in this messed-up place, little voices in the head can be trusted, unlike back when we were on Terra and Melody was guiding me.

On my right, Fusion says, “You look good. You’ve been keeping on weight. You look healthy.”

“I finally figured out I don’t need to eat,” I say. “I’m powered by starlight, kind of like how a plant is. And I’m a self-pollinator.”

“Cool,” he says. “Does self-pollinating feel as good as joining?”

Lani, Jordin, and Robynn laugh.

“It’s not like that at all,” I say, while actually having no idea if it works like that or not.

“Well, you brought it up,” he says.

“It was stupid,” I say. Behind us, the whirlwind of light starts spitting fire.

“Where are we going?” Jordin asks again.

“We’re just running,” I say, “away from the secret vortex of fire light and toward wherever Kase is.”

“It’s growing,” Jordin says. “Run faster.”

More than just a single vortex now, whatever is chasing us has expanded, becoming U-shaped. Though it still looks like if we were caught up in it, we’d be sucked down over an edge. So, I’m pretty sure what’s chasing us is like a Niagara Falls with light instead of water that’s caught up in a tornado, while we run on the surface of the river that’s like a treadmill while it all recedes. And when something is receding upriver and you are being pulled downriver, those two things are actually getting closer to each other. And just to be clear, the curve of the U is chasing us and not the open part.

We’re never going to make it.

“Stop!” I yell, holding my arms out. “Turn and face it.”

“Face that?” Lani asks.

“No,” I say. “Run at it. And just before it hits us, jump up.”

I take off, not waiting for the committee to debate my latest crazy idea.

Just as the other three catch up to me, we jump, and the leading edge of the secret vortex of fire light passes underneath us. As we float above it, I look down and realize it’s not a U chasing us but rather an O. Maybe that why it was a secret.

As we plummet toward the center and solid ground, Kase falls out of the sky going way too fast. She smacks all five of us on the way down, and we end up sprawled out in the center of the O.

“Hey,” she says. “Are you okay?”

Everyone knows she’s the meanest of all Elementals and hates me especially.

“Solstice,” Kase says, “let me help you up.” After she gets me on my feet, she helps with Robynn, Fusion, Lani, and Jordin.

“Awesome,” she says. “I don’t like being neither dead nor living and not being really sure where I stand in the universe. Are you here to rescue me? That’s so thoughtful.”

Kase, like Fusion, is a dazer. Her parents were Asian and African American, so she’s like a blend of those old human races. Fusion’s mother was like from Cuba or something but grew up in Florida where his dad was from, and I imagine their grandson, Everet, is probably the best of all of Terran’s old races combined.

“You’re pretty,” I say.

“You always were so considerate,” Kase says. “I never told you that enough, and for that, I’m the lesser person, not you.”

I have to remind myself this is the opposite and Kase probably means, You are so selfish. And even though I’ve said it a hundred times, you are the worst. And by the way, it’s not pronounced Case, it’s KC.

“Thanks,” I say.

“We have a problem, however,” she says. “The secret vortex of fire light is getting smaller.”

She’s right. The O is getting tighter. “Run in circles,” I yell.

SUCK IT

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“I want to say bad things about you,” Kase says, “but my stupid mouth or brain won’t let the words come out.”

“If it helps,” I reply, leading the group running in circles as the secret underground collapsing vortex of fire light gets closer, “I’m translating your nicest compliments into the opposite of what you’re saying.”

“Be nice,” Fusion says to his mate. “She’s saving us because we’re not really dead. More like confused. And Baer, Eos, and Narista are waiting.”

“We need eight,” I say.

“Robynn makes nine,” Kase says.

Apparently, she can say unthoughtful things about other people.

“Yep,” I say. “But we need her.”

Around us, the maelstrom consumes bigger chunks of land, turning it into energy. I’m tired of calling it the secret underground vortex of intense fire light, so I start chopping letters.

“We have to find the pods before the Suck It gets us.”

No one needs a translation.

While we keep running in circles, I look upward, searching for any sign of the pods, and Fusion brings Kase up to speed.

“What do we do when your stupid war is over and you save the galaxy?” Kase asks.

“We save the galaxy,” I correct her, “and then you can do whatever you want.”

“Until the next Soleria-induced crisis?” she asks. Like the others, the longer she’s down here, the more she remembers of her old self and the more her old personality kicks in.

“We should just use our gifts,” Robynn says.

I have none besides strength in Nemesis, but Baer and Narista had their gifts.

As we run, Robynn opens up her palms. She was never into developing her powers, but she had hot hands. “Still cold,” she says. “No heat.”

“Soleria powers don’t work on Nemesis,” I say, even if I am technically slipstreaming.

Red swirls of light burst upward from Fusion’s palms.

Kase jumps and comes down hard. Under us, the ground shakes.

“I can’t do anything but heal you guys,” Jordin says.

“Stop,” Lani says. She raises her hands and spins. Wind forms up around us. “We’re going to run out of ground,” she says. “So, let’s go up.”

The Suck It closes in. Lani stops spinning, but her white whirlwind continues to rotate, keeping the yellow-orange vortex around us at bay. “Hang onto me,” she says.

“Me first,” Kase says.

I remember she could shake the ground by slamming her feet, but she could also do the opposite—jump super high by redirecting the force into her limbs.

I grab onto Kase and Lani, while holding the others. I use both arms and my legs. Kase pushes off the last bit of ground, springing upward, while Lani intensifies her whirlwind around us. Fusion ads fire to Lani’s vortex while Jordin touches each of us, using the power of healing to keep us continuously fueled and fresh.

It’s like we’re riding a Suck It inside a Suck It, but ours is going up while the one surrounding us is going down.

Essentially, we’ve created a stalemate—a perfect balance. If we change nothing, we’ll be fine.

That’s when the five pods we need fall out of the yellow hazy sky.

SHIP OUT

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“We need those!” I shout.

I let everyone go. It’s surprisingly hard to hold onto five people at once anyway. It’s not because I’m not super strong in the Nemesis core, but because my arms aren’t super long. I swear I was using a leg each to hold onto Jordin and Kase.

“Why’d you do that?” Kase groans. “Now we’re falling.”

“Try flying,” I say, inverting myself.

Jordin spins wildly off to my left, and I grab her. “Point your hands in the direction we’re going,” I say.

Lani’s vortex collapses around us. As the others flip over, righting themselves, we race after the pods. “Hands in front,” I say. “We need to go faster and catch up to those pods. “

The Suck It has reached equilibrium, and it is neither collapsing on itself nor is it expanding while still pulling things downward.

“Everyone know what their pods look like?” I ask. They’ve all been in similar ones except Robynn. “Yours has a sun on it,” I tell her. “You’ll go into a deep sleep.”

“How long?” she asks.

“Not long. Weeks maybe.”

“What will you do?” Lani asks me.

“I’ll go back with the others.”

“And we can’t?” Jordin asks.

“You didn’t get here that way, and we need to keep you hidden,” I reply.

“Eos got here that way,” Fusion says. “And he’s going out your way. Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I can’t hold onto five pods,” I say. “Otherwise, I’d take you. Once you’re in the pods, if they’re not tied down, they pretty much have a mind of their own.”

“Here they come,” Kase says.

She’s the first to latch onto a pod, but it’s her husband’s. “I’ve got the Fire one.”

“Fusion,” I say. “Go to her. And think of Neptune. Make that your last thought. If you had your gem, I’m sure you’d end up on Fieri, but maybe without it, you can influence where you end up.”

“Maybe?” Kase asks as we grab onto Fusion’s pod.

“I trust you,” he says to me. “I’ll go, Neptune. Neptune. Neptune.”

He opens the door of the pod and it slows down, stuck in its wind resistance. The pod rips out Kase’s hands and mine, spinning wildly up the Suck It. But Fusion manages to climb in and close the door. The pod lights up and races away into the Suck It.

“I’ve got the Water pod,” Jordin says, grabbing onto a set of cables flapping behind a pod. Lani, Kase, and I steady the pod. We open the door a crack, and Jordin slips in. “Neptune!” she yells as it’s ripped out of our hands.

Next, Lani gets her pod. Like the others, she yells Neptune and is pulled up the Suck It.

Kase and I dive, narrowing our bodies by raising our arms to catch up to Robynn below us.

Robynn has two pods, holding onto them by the cables and hoses flapping behind them.

I steady the Earth pod and Kase climbs in, shouting Neptune like the others. She races away, drawn up into the vortex.

“Just you,” I say to Robynn. We hold onto the last pod, staring across it at each other. “Think of Aether Prime. Baer will come for you.”

“What will I remember?” she asks.

The wind blows back her hair, and she looks fearless and brave, like Narista often does.

“Not much,” I say. “You’ll be confused for a bit.”

She pulls herself over the top of the pod and kisses me. “In that case, you should know I love you, but I also love my husband.”

“Okay,” I say. My heart’s breaking. I can’t make the same confession. I’m not ready, even if it’s true.

“Promise me,” she says, “you’ll give him up before I return.”

“I promise.”

“You are more Soleria than you know,” she says. “It won’t be as hard to leave Baer as you think.”

“Get in the pod, Robynn.”

She opens the door, and I steady it for her.

“It looks like a casket,” she says.

“Think of Aether Prime. He’ll find you there.”

“Will you tell him?” she asks.

“No. Baer and Narista won’t even know I was gone. I don’t understand it all yet. And we need to keep you guys hidden. Our enemies are just taking shape.”

“The Ferocity?” she asks.

“Yes, but there are more,” I say. “Narista is convinced the dazed are out there.”

Around me, the Suck It shakes. “It’s collapsing,” I say.

“Aether Prime,” Robynn says, closing the pod door.

The pod races away from me, upward.

I make myself as thin as possible, forcing my hands together over my head and squeezing my feet to each other. As I fly in the opposite direction of the pods, my speed increases as the Suck It collapses.

SUPER CALDERA

S07Y 162D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“What are you doiiiinnnnggggggggg?” Baer asks, his voice speeding up to. He’s leaning forward onto Eos’s pod, helping to steady Narista, as she starts to move again.

Everything speeds up, including the sparks on the wind that surround us, except for the swirling singularity.

Baer and Narista, like Eos in the pod, are start moving again, no longer stopped in time on the edge of the volcano next to me. I am the Solstice Dayton, literally the sun sister of time and place.

I’m near the center of the hourglass as time flows through space again. Like a single grain of sand, I can see what is to come and what has come before.

Baer stands on the volcano’s rim looking at the lava spewing from the far side. Lightning flashes, striking the mountainside. Firenadoes rip around the mountain, joining the scorched barren plains, nearly ninety thousand feet below, with the sky on fire. “How’d you get down there?”

He reaches down and grabs my hand.

“I slipped,” I say.

The smoke-filled wind pushes my hair back as I grasp his forearm. Once I’m up, Narista nods, holding onto Eos’s pod. “No more slipping.”

“I imagine this is what Yellowstone looks like long after it’s blown,” Baer says.

Sparks float on the wind, twirling from the caldera upward, pulled by the singularity into the funnel.

“The Rising Sun is up there,” I say, “docked with the Dusk Singularity.”

I look downward, wondering how I got up here on the rim. Time is flowing again, and what I knew with certainty seconds ago fades like dreams do at dawn.

“We can make it,” I say. “Escape is right up there.”

“So are our friends,” Baer adds. He looks at me. “Why do you have my sunglasses on?”

I have a thought as I put away the Wayfarers, unable to answer his question. Five friends went to two different locations for one mission. I try to hold onto the memory of Lani, Kase, Fusion, Jordin, and Robynn—especially Robynn—as well as my Slipstream Theory, but the thoughts disappear, replaced by the sparks on the wind.

“I can remember Hali,” Narista says. “But she was young when the Ferocity took her.”

“She’s still young,” I say. “And wait till you meet Corona. She gets smarter every day.”

“Sorry I gave her that virus,” Narista says.

“You were finding yourself,” Baer says, “calling out for help. I was like that. I didn’t even know who I was after I was in my pod. My grandson rescued me on Aetha Prime. And for a time after he died, I thought I was him. Being in the pod changes you, takes away your sense of self even as it restores it.”

“Eos?” Narista says, looking at the pod at our feet.

“It’ll be a while,” Baer says, “until he finds himself again.”

Narista looks away, dejected. There isn’t a lot of hope when you’re caught between a volcano and flaming sky.

So, I add some.

“Or,” I say, “Eos’s experience will be completely different. I slept in one of those pods for like seventy years. Sure, I didn’t have to be regenerated or anything, but I came out of it fine. Even Pyrellax didn’t seem that messed up. I thought she was dead.”

“Not helping,” Narista says, touching Eos’s pod.

“But she wasn’t dead,” I say.

Baer steps forward. “I’m not sure that’s a positive. She’s now the leader of the clan that has pledged all of its considerable resources to crush us.”

“Pyrellax was once our friend, when she was Pyre. There’s still hope,” I say. “But that’s not the point. Eos could be just fine when he comes out.”

Narista kneels, examining the Terran pod and the body inside. “His gray is gone, even some of the wrinkles. It’s happening fast.”

“See,” I say. “That’s great news.”

“Let’s just pull him out before he becomes a baby,” Baer says.

Is that even possible? I don’t think so. “I doubt his mass will change,” I say, without any proof.

“Then let’s make sure we wake him before he ends up like a teen again,” Narista says. “It took me seventy years to train that boy. I can’t have him forgetting that.”

“Okay,” Baer says. “So once Eos is restored, how do we get out of here?”

Narista and I watch the sparks from the caldera float upward, caught by the vortex’s pull. At the same time, we say, “We jump.”

SMOG

S07Y 163D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“No,” Baer says. “No, thank you.”

I admit it’s not the best plan. It’s the only plan.

“The second we jump from the rim, we’re going to fall straight into the volcano,” he adds.

It’s not like we haven’t done crazy stupid stuff before. Hell, Narista and I both flew into stars, Nemesis and Sol. And Baer would have done it too, flying into Aetha, if Braeger hadn’t stopped him. Technically we don’t know that for sure, but one minute Baer was flying toward his star and the next he’s with Braeger.

The ground rumbles beneath us like it’s taking Baer’s side.

“But we can’t stay here.” Narista points. “Just because the lava flow is on that side over there, doesn’t mean nothing isn’t going to blow over here.”

“Step back,” I say as she gets too close to the geyser tube.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “We broke it or something. It should have fired off two dozen times by now.”

“Weren’t you the one just arguing that something was going to blow?” I ask.

“We must have created a crack way down below,” Baer says, “when the tube was clogged with the capsule. Like we made another way for the water to get out.”

Like he knows anything about volcanoes.

But Narista’s right. The sooner we get back into the singularity, the safer we’ll be. And don’t I know that doesn’t make any sense.

“We can’t even get to the bottom of the funnel from here,” Baer says.

And he’s right. We came up the geyser tube on the most solid part of the mountain, farthest from the center of the caldera. On the other side, lava pours over the edges like a witch’s brew from a broken caldron.

“Follow the smog,” Narista says. She points to our left. A quarter way around the volcano, so halfway between where we stand and the lava, smoke twists up from the center of volcano into the singularity vortex. We can’t see it with all the smoke, but the mountain must jut toward the caldera center there.

“That’s our way up,” she says.

She grabs the top of the Terran pod and lifts it so that her back faces it. “Help me,” she says.

I grab the bottom of the pod. “Baer, steady the center.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to drag Eos’s ass all over this volcano,” he says. “I think one of you specifically said we wouldn’t be doing that.”

He grabs the center, doing his best to steady it as we walk along the rim.

As we walk, Eos gets younger before our eyes in the pod.

“How will we know when to open it?” Baer asks.

“I’m hoping his eyes open,” I say, “and he says, let me out please.”

“We need to pull him out, though,” Narista says, “before he flies off toward the star the solitaire aligns with.” Because we know that can happen if an unsecured pod, solitaire, and elemental are joined.

“Right,” I say. “We can’t make the trip to Terra Prime before we’re ready. Which probably means finding the three other elementals besides Hali.”

The rim of the volcano is at least a dozen feet wide. Rocks of various sizes—from pebbles to boulders as big as cars—block our way.

Progress is slow, but the rim is relatively flat on this side. So we weave between the rocks, passing the pod forward like pallbearers would move a casket into a limo.

We don’t look up anymore.

We don’t flinch when lightning strikes nearby.

We don’t cower when the sky glows a brighter orange as a cloud catches fire.

We don’t look into the volcano.

We don’t look down the slope at the eighty-eight thousand eight hundred- and eighty-eight-foot drop.

We only look forward and at our feet and each other, making sure we stay on the path.

SOUR

S07Y 164D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“Acrid,” I say. That’s the word I’m looking for.

“You’re right,” Baer says. “It does smell and taste awful.”

“Sulfur?” Narista asks.

Who knows? “Makes me not want to breathe at all,” I say, “it’s so sour.”

We should be sick.

“I once got booted from a spelling bee,” Baer says. He squeezes between two rocks and helps me and Narista slide Eos’s pod over it. “I gave my spelling bee team this speech not to do anything stupid, and I was like the first kid to get a word wrong.”

“What?” I ask.

“Sour,” he says. “S-O-W-E-R.”

That’s bad, but I can’t move beyond the other part of the story. “You had a spelling bee team?”

“Like on a rainy day in grade school when we couldn’t do recess.”

“At PMS?” I ask.

“Not Portsmouth Middle School. Before that.”

“Oh.”

“She went to my middle school for a week before we knew each other,” Baer tells Narista.

“It’s how I got him in the pod,” I say. “We went to see his brother, too, at Apothecaries Hall in Waterbury. I slipstreamed back in time so I could plant an idea in Baer’s head so that decades later he’d get in his pod before he was dead.”

“You’re hurting my head,” Narista says. “Did you already tell me this or am I having déjà vu?”

“Time travel is like that,” Baer says. “Full of parallaxes and paradoxes.”

“Stop,” Narista says, grinning. “We all know you’re living some schoolboy sci-fi dream, but I’d rather just be living on a farm.”

“Boating and surfing in Fla,” I say. “That’s what I’d be doing if I wasn’t too busy saving my boyfriend and dragging yours all over the core of Nemesis.”

“It’s going to make for a super cool session of Onetimes,” Baer says. “Remember this onetime we were caught in the core of a star…”

“Hali and Corona will never believe us,” I say. “We’ll just have to tell them we went hiking.”

“Except this is like Mount Everest in hell,” Narista says.

“It’s just sick,” Baer says.

He’s right. With all the stuff we’ve gone through since the Firegale, we should be sick. No human could endure what we’ve endured.

But we’re not human. Not besides Eos and Baer.

“It’s good he’s in the pod,” I say as we pass him between another set of boulders along the volcano rim. We’ve nearly reached the midway point between the geyser and the lava field, where the mountainside juts inward toward the center of the caldera. “He’s human and powerless. I’m not sure he’d survive in all this.”

Narista nods.

Her boyfriend will likely always be the weakest of us, doomed to have less. He’ll be asked to be extraordinary, when besides bearing the Terran solitaire, he’ll actually be powerless.

“We can all be killed,” Baer says. “Even you immortal sisters. We will all need to be careful always.”

What he leaves out is that it’s a lot harder to kill us than Eos, and we have far better defenses.

Narista leads us through the last of the boulder fields. Beyond the bigger rocks, the mountainside flattens at the remnants of a plateau. “The path’s here,” she says.

We place Eos on flat ground after two days of circling the rim. I don’t bother to tell the others just how long it’s taken us. Since time is so different here, it might even work to our advantage.

Leading from where we stand, a flat path stretches from the plateau to the center of the caldera. It’s no more than two feet wide, and on both sides, the precipices plummet to the lava field below. Magma flows up through crevasses in the core, bubbling orange and black on the surface. The end of the path terminates at the center of the volcano at the same height as the rim.

Above the termination, smoke and fire swirl upward into the slipstream funnel.

Dystopian Singularity.

I haven’t thought of single lyric on this trip, but that title pops into my brain.

The ground shakes below while fire and lightning explode above, fighting for dominance of the sky.

“Time to go,” Narista says, picking up the front end of the Terran pod.

I lift the back. There won’t be room for Baer to hold the middle on the narrow path. He’ll have to trail us.

“I’m ready,” I say.

SUCKED

S07Y 166D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

I know I said I was ready, but I was so mistaken. The closer we get to the bottom of the singularity, the more I question this route. But Narista isn’t stopping. Either I drop the Terran pod and Eos or I keep up with my sister. Ahead of me, her hair is blown back. Black smoke swirls around her, joining with the steady stream of embers rising from the volcano below, like fireflies at night.

“If I wasn’t so scared,” Baer says, “this would be beautiful.”

With the pod in front of me, I can’t see my feet.

“You just make sure I don’t step off,” I say.

“You’re like the back end of a dog,” he says, “I don’t even know how your feet know what path to follow, but they do.”

“I’m just the ass following the head.”

“Not much farther,” Narista says, “to where we start to feel the pull.”

Her hair is no longer blowing back but is now flowing forward, away from me. She won’t put the pod down, so she shakes her head, trying to get the hair out of her eyes. “I can’t see,” she says.

“A few more steps,” Baer yells from the rear. “Just go straight. Feel with your feet.”

At the front of our caravan, Narista lights up her gem, the solitaire glowing purple. Behind me, gray light floods forward from Baer’s stone.

On the outside of the pod, Eos’s Terran gemstone glows.

I say my grandmother’s name over and over. Solterra. Solterra. Searching for my strength, my gifts that were lost.

Can you hear me?

I can, sister.

My gifts are returning.

The Sol solitaire lights up around my neck, outshining the other three gems.

Black smoke surrounds us.

The front of the pod drops.

Narista raises her hands, and she’s sucked upward. She smiles down at us. “Send him up behind me. Remember to fly, not fall.”

I push the pod forward to the spot where she was, and it follows her into the vortex.

“See you on the other side, Baer. Follow me up.” I raise my arms, and I’m sucked upward.

Baer jumps behind me, and I feel his hands on my boots.

“I’m making sure we stay close,” he says, joining me in the funnel.

SHIMMER

S07Y 167D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Lightning, fire, shadows, smoke, light, death, and life swirl upward in an ever-widening vortex. I cannot see Narista, nor the pod. Baer stays with me for a few seconds until the gravitational forces pull us apart.

There’s more than one way to ride the slipstream. I always imagined it like a wave, and I was a surfer. But that’s just me. The rest of the galaxy uses wormholes, linking spots in space-time to travel great distances. But they are limited by the location of those portals, unlike Narista and me. We can make our own. In this system, there are two wormholes, one of them out by the ninth planet. That’s how the other ships got into this system, those that became Narista’s ship. It’s also how Baer got into this system, and it links to other systems. The second wormhole is at the center of the Nemar System in the dark star. It’s a small jump point, covering a short distance through space, roughly from the outside of Nemesis’s purple corona to the star’s core. And yet time flows far differently here. We’ve been gone seventy-seven days. It feels like seven hours, and it also feels like seventy-seven years.

Around my neck, the Solstar glows in my necklace, positive conformation that my powers are back to stay.

As the vortex widens, the speed at which we travel seems to slow. I right myself, finding whatever direction seems to be most up, and raise my arms. Like Narista and I once did in a stairway tunnel, I fly, following the current’s flow.

Above me, a clear light spins wildly. Beyond that, a purple glow ascends in a controlled ascent. It’s Narista. Below me, a gray light zigs and zags. It’s got to be Baer, upside down and bouncing around or something.

Narista spreads her arms, slowing down.

I move my arms together, accelerating like a skydiver in reverse.

We meet in the middle, at the Terran pod and Eos.

“How’s he look?” I ask as I grab on.

“Better than your boyfriend,” Narista jokes.

“Let him catch up,” I say.

We spread our arms and legs, slowing down while still hanging onto the pod.

I tuck in my free arm—my left—causing us to drift to that side. “I’m trying to get over him,” I say.

A second later, Baer thuds into the bottom of the pod.

“Ouch,” he yells.

He slides along the bottom, desperately grabbing at the hoses and cables hanging off the pod.

“Just relax,” Narista says.

“Stop falling down,” I say, “and start flying up.”

It’s ridiculous—there’s no up or down in space—but also brilliant. Baer’s always convinced he’s falling. Narista and I, we fly.

“Come on, Baer,” Narista says, encouraging him. “You can do it.”

He lets go of the pod cables and drifts toward us on the front side of the Terran pod. “Someone grab me!”

We’ve got the pod perfectly balanced, so we’re not going to grab him.

“You can do it,” I say.

He ends up in the middle of the pod so that his belly is across from Eos. Narista gets a hand of Baer’s to the face while I get a boot.

“Dammit, Baer,” I moan.

As we ascend the singularity vortex, time increases but our speed slows.

I keep counting seconds.

The flames and lightning from the core of Nemesis fade, yielding to the shadows.

We hang onto the pod by the light of four solitaires.

Baer becomes a marginally better flyer.

Narista and I keep encouraging him, telling him he is improving. We go long stretches without Baer hitting or kicking us. But the truth is, the ride is getting easier.

Five days later, we can barely tell if we are flying or just floating. But everyone notices when Eos opens his eyes.

SOURCE

S07Y 172D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“Get him out,” I say. It would do us no good for Eos to fly off to Terra Prime at the center of the galaxy. We’re not ready for that. We don’t want to tip our hand to the Ferocity. And to be honest, I’m not sure if Terra Prime is a star, a planet, or something kind of in between. Saturn felt like something nearly in between. Jupiter has that feel too.

“Get him out,” I repeat.

Problem is, saying stuff and doing stuff are completely different things in a vortex.

The Terran pod races up the funnel, breaking from the swirl along the edges.

“Get me out!” Eos yells.

Baer slips off the top of the pod as we accelerate, falling to the backside and grabbing onto the cables and wires.

“Push the gem,” Narista shouts. “It’ll fall toward you.”

Eos follows the instructions, and the Terran solitaire falls inward.

“Put it in the necklace,” Narista says. “Then push on the doorway slowly.”

He sets the gem in place and opens the pod door as we release the pod.

It spins out of control. Narista flies toward Eos as he floats out. His medium-length black hair flows over his olive skin and dark eyes. Baer hangs onto the back of the Terran pod like a bronco rider whose hands are stuck in the rope. He couldn’t let go if he wanted to.

I float next to the pod, staying clear of its spin as it slows down and matches the speed of the vortex. When it looks safe, I close the door.

Narista floats next to me, holding Eos’s hand. Flying or falling, as Baer calls it, is very new to him. “Rotate it,” she says, pointing to the Terran pod.

Baer and I spin the pod so that it’s parallel to the centerline of the vortex we’re traveling in.

The four of us grab the sides of the pod.

“Almost there,” Narista says.

I raise my head.

The shadows are breaking, and we can see the Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity docked with each other at the top of the singularity.

SEIZE

S07Y 173D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

On the way into the singularity, we fell into a hole that formed between the Rising Sun and the Dusk Singularity. Baer and I were sucked out of my ship, while Narista surprisingly jumped from her ship. Now as we travel up the singularity funnel, we are nearly at our ships.

I reach for Narista’s left hand, touching it as it holds onto the Terran pod, and I let her know my thoughts. It will not be safe once we leave the singularity. I don’t want to end up in the void of space. But I’m sure she’s thought of that. Which is great and all, but it’s time to share it with me.

Don’t worry. You forget I can control our ships. I’ll make sure mine can receive us.

We can’t all fit into the Nether pod. That’s the center of Narista’s ship.

There are other chambers besides that. It’s far bigger than your ship, sister.

At the top of the funnel, the Dusk Singularity sits like a plug in a drain. Above Narista’s ship, mine remains docked near the Nether pod on the top side.

“Get as tight as you can,” Narista commands.

The four of us hug the Terran Pod.

A cargo bay door opens in the bottom of the Dusk Singularity. Narista, through the Nether, can control technology. Like a virus, she was able to take over my ship and battle Corona. The same principle can be used to control her ship, although less aggressively. The crew on the Rising Sun was actively working against Narista when we came here nearly ninety days ago.

We fly straight up from the top of the funnel into the cargo bay. As we fall to the floor to the left and the right, the cargo door closes in the center.

I gasp, expecting not to be able to breathe.

Wait. How did we breathe in the singularity?

But the hold is full of fresh oxygen.

“I didn’t really open the cargo door,” Narista says. “That was just an illusion.”

Baer gets to his feet, helping me, and Narista lifts up Eos—who looks awesome, as young as he did when I first met him in Everglades City.

“Why would you do that?” Baer asks.

“To avoid having this conversation,” Narista says. “Remember how Solstice traveled the slipstream and kept jumping into her younger self? It’s like that. If you know how to ride the slipstream, how to warp space-time, you can put anyone anywhere.”

“It’s draining, though,” I say. “And you can get stuck like I did for centuries.”

Narista waves her hand. “Yes, yes. It’s dangerous. We had to get out and we had to find the gem, fix up Eos, and get the pod. Those all seemed like emergencies.”

“It’s safer,” I say, “if you use your ship and ride existing waves like I do.”

“I’m not you,” she answers. “But I get it.”

“How about a tour?” Eos asks. “Did you really build all this with your brain?”

“The Dusk Singularity is like a compass,” she says. “What I did can’t be that different from how the Rising Sun was built.”

I combined Pyrellax’s command ship with my  ship, using the Solarity’s energy shield to change the basic Ferocity infinity symbol/peanut shape to something more streamlined and rocket-like. But my ship is like a yacht while Narista’s is like an aircraft carrier, just rounder. What she has done here is far more impressive. Her ship is probably the largest I’ve ever seen, excluding the Solidarity, the last Soleria ship that held the last remnants of my people.

“And we’re on the outside edge,” Narista continues. “At the center, you have the Nether pod, and four passageways radiate out from that.” She points to the Soleria silvolden, Ferocity iron, and Aether metal that comprise the floor and walls. “Most of what you see here was take from the Solidarity, a peanut, and Braeger’s ship.”

“Did you destroy them?” Baer asks.

“I destroyed a Ferocity ship after it destroyed yours. I didn’t realize you were in an escape pod or that you were already gone. I just salvaged from the debris field. Then I took down the Ferocity ship.”

“With your pod?” I ask. But I don’t really ask what I want to. The pods are defenseless. The only way she destroyed a Ferocity ship was if she already had a ship built up around her pod.

“I had already salvaged the debris field around Saturn,” she says, “on my way out of the Sol System from Terra. I didn’t destroy the Solidarity. It was already torn apart.”

“Who did it?” I ask.

“The Ferocity. That’s my guess. While you were in stasis on Luna and me on Terra, they went after the last of the Soleria near Saturn and the last of the Nemar on Naturn.”

“They were already running raids on Terra,” Eos says. “That’s how we lost Aerynn, Fyra, Everet, and Hali.”

“Hali!” I shout. “We need to find her and Corona.”

The purple lighting on the Dusk Singularity dims before switching to red.

“That’s not good, is it?” Baer asks.

Red lights on any ship anywhere are always bad.

A second later, an alarm blares.

The Dusk Singularity drops like a plane in an air pocket. We fall to our butts with the sudden descent.

“The singularity is collapsing,” Narista says. Her ship is the plug holding back space from falling into the funnel. “Like a vacuum cleaner,” she adds. “You know, when it gets stuck on something and the hose buckles in on itself.”

“Baer,” I yell, “to the Rising Sun.”

Narista points to her left. “You’ll have to go up a level. My ship is like a series of rings, and it isn’t very tall. The thickest part is the center where we are now. The Nether pod is above the cargo bay directly above us. Take the second passageway you see to the first ring. There’ll be a ladder to the level above. I don’t have elevators. The whole thing is set up to look like Naturn or Saturn. Your ship is docked there, just beyond the pod.”

“When we get aboard,” I ask, “you’ll get Corona back online?”

“Yep. I’ll even remove the virus. It’ll take a minute, but she’ll be good as new.”

“How’d you do it?” I ask as the Dusk Singularity shakes again.

“The virus?”

I nod.

“It’s like the Nether,” Narista says. “I infected her bits and bytes, preventing them from making connections but also causing her to make too many connections.”

“What?”

“I gave her epilepsy. Corona is seizing.”

My face drops. I know the pain of those. How could Narista do that?

Baer touches my hand lightly. “Narista wasn’t herself. She had no one to guide her as her mind was restored in the pod.”

Narista went crazy because I couldn’t save her from Pyrellax. Baer’s right. This is on me as much as it’s on Narista.

“Okay,” I say. “Fix Corona. We can put this behind us. And meet us by Nercury, once we break free.”

SHIP

S07Y 174D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

The singularity is collapsing in slow motion while time is racing ahead. Baer runs with me from the cargo bay to the second passageway. At the first ring, we look for a ladder leading to the level above, per my sister’s instructions. The whole ship does seem designed to look like Naturn or Saturn, excluding the passageways that connect the rings.

“That was fast,” he says.

It seems like it’s been five minutes, but I’ve been counting.

“We left Narista a day ago,” I say.

“No, we didn’t,” he insists, looking up the ladder tube.

“Time is all messed up this close to the singularity,” I counter.

He climbs the ladder, and I follow.

On the upper level, the Rising Sun is docked upside down right next to the Nether pod at the center of the Dusk Singularity.

“How do we get in?” he asks. “Isn’t our cargo bay door on the back side?”

There’s a small door underneath too, between the hot tub and fire pit and my surfboard. Honestly, I forgot how weird my ship is. I bet that hot tub spilled everywhere.

“You’re not going to like it,” I say. 

“Try me.”

“The nose of my ship is pure energy created by the Solarity. We need to cross that barrier.”

“Slip through a force field? I can get behind that.”

“Once inside the nose of the Rising Sun, we’ll have to pass through the viewport.”

“I thought you told me the viewport was just a projection, that the walls of the cockpit are solid Ferocity iron. Even the moonroof is fake.”

“Sunroof,” I correct. “And yes, we’ll be passing through solid iron.”

“How’s that even possible?”

“Two ways. It can be done if we are in a Solarity with both prominences. Or I’m betting any elemental can do it with their solitaire. It’ll be like those magic energy doors they had on the Solidarity.”

“You’re betting?”

“We don’t understand the full capabilities of the gemstones. But what’s the worst that can happen?” I ask. “We bump our heads on the ceiling of this ship.”

“Fine.”

“Take my hand and activate your gem.”

Baer stands next to me, lighting up his gray Aether gem, matching the intensity of my Solstar.

“Now jump.”

We bend at the knees and spring upward.

For good measure, I close my eyes.

When I open them, I’m standing on the floor of the Rising Sun.

“Whoa!” Hali yells. “What the hell?”

Next to me, Baer is lying on the floor, hanging onto the forward prominence. Hali is strapped into my seat, the captain’s chair.

Corona is in her normal spot, the copilot seat. She looks perfectly normal, except for the part that she’s an omnipotent being created from pure energy.

She smiles, shaking her orange hair. “I’m as good as new. I even got my eye and arm back.”

Narista reversed her attack on Corona, allowing her to regenerate.

“Strap in,” Hali says. She yields my seat, hanging on as she climbs to the seat behind it.

I turn around on the dash and pull myself toward my seat, securing the straps. Once I’m set, Baer climbs from the forward prominence up the middle aisle to take his seat behind Corona. I think he’s convinced he’s hanging down, when really it’s all about what perspective you look at the universe.

“We need to break away,” I say. “And stand up. The singularity is collapsing.

“Couldn’t find Narista?” Hali asks. “We’re lucky Corona is back online.”

“It’s been nearly ninety days,” Baer says.

“He’s right,” Corona says. “Narista has withdrawn the virus.”

“What?” Hali asks.

Corona got it almost instantly, from the second we arrived, but I have to explain to Hali.

“Time’s not the same in the singularity. Five minutes for you out here was months for us. Narista is better now. We found Eos and an eighth solitaire. Like you, Hali, Eos is an elemental. He’s the key to finding Terra Prime, the center of the galaxy, and lasting peace.”

“Is that all?” she asks.

“That’s my synopsis,” I say, “and I’m sticking to it.”

In front of us, the Dusk Singularity lights up purple.

“She’s coming online,” I say. “Baer, preflight check now.”

“I can do that,” Corona insists. “In fact, I’ve already done it.”

“We’re going to double-check, Corona,” I say. “Until we know you’re all set.”

I take hold of the W-shaped wheel. Baer checks the list, written on the wall with a Sharpie months ago, making sure we haven’t done anything stupid like leave the cargo bay doors open.

Corona calls up a holographic projection of a tablet with icons in front of me and her.

I wave my hand downward in a chopping motion, splitting my screen in two. Where there was once two blue and pink tablets, now there are three. Corona does the same, adding a fourth screen. I wave my hand over the new hologram, and it tracks with my fingers. I pull my left arm toward my chest and toss the screen over my shoulder. It’s just a hologram, and I can’t really grab it, but it flows with my arm.

Hali centers the screen in front of her. “Thanks.”

Corona tosses her duplicate screen to Baer behind her.

“Engineering is a go,” he says.

“Communications officer online,” Hali says.

Upside down as we are, we’re staring into nearly the center of the Dusk Singularity. Corona makes an adjustment with the gravity controls, and it no longer feels like we’re hanging downward, taking the pressure of the harnesses off our chests.

“Thanks,” I say.

“No problem,” Corona says.

Narista and Eos take seats inside the Nether pod. My sister has altered something in our absence, removing the back side of her pod, making it more like cockpit than coffin.

She releases the metal, cables, and wires that latched onto my ship when she forced us to dock months ago, retracting them into her ship.

Baer calls up his blue screen and scrolls through the pink icons. From my seat, I check things off the list as he reads them.

“Clearing for takeoff from Nemesis.”

I look through the sunroof above me. “Visual looks good.”

“Bay door closed?” he asks.

I call up the camera feed in the cargo bay. “Yes. Airlock engaged.” That’s the door between the ramp and the rest of the bay.

“Solarity intact?”

“Field is secure,” I say, using the external cameras to make sure the old Ferocity ship is still a different shape, like a fighter jet instead of a peanut. I scan the interior of the ship. Silvolden colors the walls, another sign the Solarity is operating.

“Sunblasters online?” Baer asks.

I slide though the icons and press the one that looks like two laser guns on an outline of our ship. Pink gloves appear in front of me, and I put my hands in them. I make fists and rotate my palms upward, but I don’t release sunrays. I don’t want to shoot beams of light from the port side and starboard side of the Rising Sun. That wouldn’t work well for my sister’s ship. “Check.”

Baer scans the viewport and then the sunroof, looking outside the ship again. “Visuals look good.”

He looks at the wall to see what’s next but also glances at his tablet, the pre-flight check list being in multiple spots. “Solar batteries charged?”

“Anyone know where those are?”

Hali presses an icon that looks like two old-style Terran AA batteries. The pink outlines are shaded to the top with a yellow overlay.

“Nearly full on yellow,” she says, indicating they’re charged with solar energy. “We’re at 88 percent.”

“Aft and stern prominences locked in place?” Baer asks.

“Check,” I reply, putting my foot on the one between Corona and me. “Can’t move it a bit.”

“Hot tub cover engaged?”

“Did it myself,” Hali says. “And the fire pit cover way before all this happened. If any water fell out, it did like a long time ago.”

“Fire pit secure,” Baer repeats. “Plotting slipstream waves to Nercury. We’ll use the magnetic field resonance from Nemesis and try to latch onto the first planet’s gravimetric waves.”

“Seatbelts?” I ask, skipping to the next item on the list.

We all say, “Check.”

“Corona secure?” Baer asks, adding a final item.

I look at my wrist, where I’ve had to store her before in the watch-like device we call the core. But then I smile at her sitting next to me in the copilot seat.

“Our friend is well,” I say. “She can have the honors.”

Corona grabs onto the W-shaped steering wheel. “Switching to my control. Visual for liftoff is good. We are a go for departure.” She smiles, quoting Baer, who has a habit of using NASA phrases he saw as a kid in some movie. “T-minus ten seconds.”

The four of us count down. “Nine, eight, seven, six…”

I interrupt. “Remember, once the Dusk Singularity lifts off, we’re going to feel the pull of the singularity. That hole in space-time is going to want to keep pulling things in.”

“We’ve also got to break loose of the event horizon,” Baer says.

“Two,” I say, getting back to the countdown. “Lift off.”

Corona pulls back on the W-wheel. I mimic her, grabbing my control, and the Rising Sun pulls away from Narista’s ship.

I swipe the screen in front of me, calling up the rocket icon.

In front of Hali, she’s got the blue screen displaying a map of the Nemar System with its nine light-pink planets and the dark-purple Nemesis.

As Corona inverts us and turns us around, Baer plots a course for Nercury.

“Do you know how to get us there?” I ask.

Next to the diagram of the Nemar System there are three icons: a wave, a rocket, and a rocket with a circle and a diagonal line over it. “Slipstream, orbital, and stop,” he says. He presses Nercury on the diagram and then the rocket icon. Orbital speed is relative. It’s the speed at which the nearest planet is orbiting. When in use, we match our speed with the rotation so we don’t fall to the surface. When you’re leaving the atmosphere or hopping between moons or something, it seems pretty fast, but not when you’re just circling the planet. But we can go faster without entering the slipstream.

Baer runs his right finger along the rocket icon. His actions display on all four screens. The icon expands, revealing a striated slider on the righthand side.

He moves the slider up from zero to six. Everything is in base-7. I smile. We’re going to break the galaxy when it comes out that there’s an eighth elemental and solitaire. Everything will have to be changed to base-8.

We speed away from the Dusk Singularity at our highest sub-slipstream speed.

“Hold,” I say seconds into the flight, checking the aft cameras. Narista’s ship isn’t moving. “They’re stuck.”

“Hailing them now,” Hali says.

Baer starts giggling like it just occurred to him that our communications officer is named Hali and she might have to occasional call or hail other ships.

Narista appears in a purplish hologram above the forward prominence, between the blue and pink screens in front of the bow viewport.

“Can’t break free,” she says.

We need to slipstream, I project to her.

She responds via the holocom. “That sounds dangerous so close to the singularity.”

“I’d advise against it,” Corona says. “No one has ever opened a slipstream so close to a singularity.”

“They’re basically the same thing,” I say. “Except the singularity is finite.”

“It’s infinite,” Narista says. She then repeats something she said nearly ninety days ago. “In the singularity, time has no meaning. There is no light in the singularity besides the solitaires. Without light, time has no meaning. Space-time itself, what you call the slipstream, can be warped by matter and energy, creating curves instead of timelines. At the center of a singularity, where light, matter, and energy collapse, time is meaningless and immeasurable. Nemesis is a black hole, and my ship’s holding back the singularity at its center. The singularity is a single point where the slipstream bends infinitely. It is a space so small, it cannot be measured, where gravity and density are infinite, like the entire galaxy is resting on single point where the laws of physics no longer exist.”

“Exactly,” I say. “The laws of physics don’t exist.”

SOFTWARE

S07Y 175D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“You can’t open a slipstream on the edge of a singularity,” Narista argues. “The singularity will cease to exist.”

“That’s exactly what we want,” I say. “Apparently, it’s only occurred to me that if the black hole remains in Nemesis, the star will collapse on itself, into the singularity.”

Corona raises her hand. “I figured we weren’t going to talk about the total destruction of the Nemar System.”

“What?” Narista says.

“Corona, turn up your truth matrix,” I say, “or whatever you call it. This is no time to censor yourself for our feelings’ sake.”

She blinks.

That means she just made the update.

“Sorry,” I apologize. She’s her own woman, and I shouldn’t force personality changes on her. “Can you give us a little more truth?”

“Done,” she says. “I appreciate the feedback.”

“I’m not sure what happens next,” I say to Narista’s hologram, “but I’m betting it’s like a supernova or something, and there’ll be all sorts of space-time parallaxes and paradoxes.”

Eos leans into the holocom. “We’re overheating. Whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it soon.” He smiles as he sees an old friend. Hali is the same generation as Eos’s granddaughter, Aerynn—from his child with Lani—and his grandson, Everet—from his child with Kase. “Hey, Hali. How’s the mucus? Keeping wet?”

“We have a hot tub,” she replies. “It helps me stay nice and slimy.”

“You’ve got a good captain,” he says. “I want to make sure we get to go surfing again on the back side of this.”

We’re wasting too much time. I check the math in my head, adding up the seconds. We’ve been talking about all this for like a day.

“Dammit,” I say. “I never get used to how time is bent beyond the event horizon.” That’s the purple glow on the leading edge of the Nemesis black hole. Once we clear that, we’ll be safe. Until then, time is whacked. “We’ve already lost a day.”

“I need to run calculations,” Corona says.

“I’m sorry,” Narista says, “for getting all of you stuck here. For hurting you, especially you, Corona.”

“It’s made me stronger,” she answers. “I’ve put up a firewall around my system, and I’ll be monitoring for more infiltrations.”

“I won’t do it again,” Narista says.

“I know, but I’ll be watching to make sure the Ferocity don’t try the same in the future.”

“How about those calculations?” Baer asks.

“Right,” Eos says. “We can apologize and make nice when we meet up with each other again.”

“No,” Corona says. “Now is an appropriate time for reconciliation. I’ve done the calculations. We can’t break away from the singularity.”

“Go then,” Narista says.

I look up at the viewport. I can see the purple-hued event horizon. But I won’t leave Narista.

“Negative,” Corona says. “We don’t have the exit velocity.”

On cue, the Rising Sun slows and starts to drift backward, pulled toward the singularity.

“Shut down the engines,” I say. "Conserve power.”

Baer follows my command, sliding the rocket icon from six to zero on his blue and pink tablet. Our ship runs on starlight energy, which is seemingly limitless. But we still need time to charge, and no one really knows the limits of our batteries’ ability to continuously charge, drain, and charge.

Purple light wraps around Narista’s ship.

“The singularity is expanding before it collapses,” Corona says. “Like a balloon.”

The Rising Sun accelerates in reverse as we are pulled back toward the Dusk Singularity.

SHOCK WAVE

S07Y 176D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

“Prepare to dock with us,” I tell Narista.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I go on. “We open up a slipstream and create a paradox and a parallax and cause that singularity to close. I figure we can’t have two points at the same time in two different points in space. The singularity will collapse, and Nemesis will go back to normal. It’ll just be a dark star and not a black hole.”

“You’re not a physicist,” Hali says.

“And you’re not the captain. We blow the singularity shut, and we ride the shock wave.”

“We die either way,” Baer says. “This way we die trying, and we might save the Nemar System.”

“Rotating now,” Corona says, casting her vote. Not that we’re a democracy.

The Rising Sun approaches the Dusk Singularity to mate with it again, just to the left of the Nether pod at its center.

Through the viewport, I see Narista. She’s facing forward but I’m facing down. My butt is facing in the same direction as her face.

“Stop,” I say. This won’t do at all. “Use the cargo bay docking port. At least we’ll all be facing the same way.”

Corona spins the Rising Sun a hundred and eighty degrees lengthwise and then lowers the aft end down ninety degrees along the height axis.

“That makes more sense,” Narista says on the holocom.

“We need to synchronize our exit,” I say. But I’ve never seen her control board or instrument board. “What do things look like over there? How do you fly that thing?”

“That’s the thing,” Narista says, “I kind of just use my mind. I was in some sort of trance since the last time I flew this.”

“She doesn’t remember,” Baer says.

“Yep,” she replies. “And, Baer, work on those whispering skills.”

Corona stands. “Captain, permission to join the crew of the Dusk Singularity?”

“Just leave their ship behind,” Hali says. “Have them board ours.”

“We need theirs,” I say without hesitation. I’ve got one eye on saving my sister and the rest of us, but we have a fleet of exactly two ships. We’ll never beat the Ferocity fleet of ten thousand strong by giving away half of ours.

“Go, Corona,” I say. “Baer, be prepared to link up with her. Take the copilot seat.”

Corona runs from the bridge.

“Hali, secure the ports behind her.”

Hali runs after Corona. We track her progress using the onboard cameras. Baer calls up the icon on his blue screen and sets up the feed. We watch Hali exit the bridge and race through the pod room. She gets to the balcony and takes the steps two at a time, chasing Corona.

In the middle of the cargo bay, Corona opens the hatch in the floor between the hot tub, Baer’s workstation, my surfboard, and the fire pit. She drops down into the tube connecting the two vessels.

Hali looks down the hole and nods. Seconds later, she closes the port linking the two ships. She reverses course and runs back up the bridge. “Corona’s in.”

After a minute, Corona’s face comes up on our holocom.

The two ships shake as the lower one falls farther into the singularity. Purple light rushes around our ships. The smoke-like tentacles look like hands trying to pull us into the funnel.

“Go for it?” Baer asks.

I nod.

“I’m linked up,” Corona says. “I’m integrating now with the Dusk Singularity.” She pauses for like a nanosecond. “I’m in.”

“We’ve got displays,” Narista says.

Corona tells her something, and Narista adds, “I’ve got yours mirrored here too. We’ll follow your lead. Transferring bridge control now.”

On the pink and blue screen in front of Baer, me, and Hali, the pink three-dimensional image of the Rising Sun expands to include the Dusk Singularity under it.

“We’re merged,” I say.

“Seeing it here,” Narista says.

“Get us out of here, Baer.”

He again presses Nercury on the Nemar System diagram on his screen and then the wave icon. Several pink sine waves appear on a screen to his right.

The waves represent solar wind, gravitational pull, magnetic fields, and forces. We normally pick the best wave and ride it in, choosing smoothness over speed.

One of the pink sine waves—the gravitational one—has lots of sharp peaks.

“Pick that one,” I say. “Take the bumpy ride.”

“Why would we choose a bumpy ride?” Hali asks.

“It’s faster,” Baer says.

The sine waves are like ocean waves. We surf them mindful of the weather and tides, but also geology and seismic events. It’s all very scientific. That’s how Baer and Corona see it.

With my powers restored, I can hear their thoughts, questioning me.

“But are you sure?” Baer asks. “The fast, bumpy one?”

The two ships shudder, and we fall farther into the singularity. The purple light rising from the funnel flows over the vessels, reducing visibility.

It doesn’t matter, though. We’re getting out of here on feel, not sight. Surfing is art.

The pattern of the gravitational wave repeats. All the waves are like that. But this one repeats more quickly. Six sharp peaks in the wave are followed by a seventh bigger spike. It’s like the mythical seventh breaker wave. And we’ll get many more of those if we choose this sine wave. It’s the one I’d be least likely to surf if this were the sea. It’s the wave that would throw me against the rocks or shore, shattering my board.

It’s dangerous.

Reckless.

Exactly what we need.

I need it to be reckless.

“Gravitational,” I say. “Take those.”

Baer presses the gravitational wave on the touch screen and then clicks an OK button.

The Rising Sun speeds up, pulling the Dusk Singularity with it.

The purple light is supplanted by white lights. It’s like an aura before a seizure: blackness with white flickering specks.

Below us, the singularity collapses, squeezing in on itself like a plugged vacuum hose.

Space around us bends, racing toward the collapse.

Our vessels hold, pulling slightly away.

“It’s not going to be enough,” Corona says from the lower ship.

“Wait for it,” I say.

“For what?” Baer asks.

“The shock wave.”

The singularity collapses into Nemesis.

For a moment, our ships go dark.

There’s no sound.

No light.

No life.

Only darkness.

The singularity implodes, releasing a shock wave.

The Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity are thrown clear of the space-time collapse.

Our bodies are thrust backward, straining against the harnesses that hold us on our seats.

The lights blink back on.

We race forward, approaching the event horizon. I glance at my screen, finding the aft camera focused on Nemesis, making sure we didn’t accidentally cause a supernova or something.

What normally should be seconds lasts a day, even though it feels like seconds.

The speed of the combined ships slow as we reach the purple event horizon, the point at which we’ll find safety.

“We’re not going to make it,” Corona says. “The black hole isn’t collapsing fast enough.”

The Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity are pulled back toward the dark star. In front of Nemesis, the black hole is collapsing.

It seems we’ve saved the star system but not ourselves. The black hole’s last victims will be us.

But then I have an idea.

Only a song can beat a singularity.

SINGULARITY

S07Y 177D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

I haven’t sung in like eighty-eight days. I haven’t even thought about a lyric. I’ve thought about not thinking about lyrics, but not the lyric themselves. Next to me, Baer is cycling through the touch screen, desperately looking for any application that will give us a boost. I’m sure Corona is doing the same on Narista’s ship below us.

As we drift toward the collapsing black hole, I send my sister a message. Turn us around.

Head for the black hole?

Yes. Do you trust me?

Yes.

I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be in my shadow one more time.

“What are they doing?” Baer asks. “Why are we coming about?”

“Follow her lead,” I say.

“What are you going to do?”

“Engaging sunblasters now.”

I call up the app and slip my hands into the holographic pink gloves.

“I’m going to give it all I’ve got, you two,” I say. “You may want to plug your ears.

“Corona,” I add over the holocom, “when I say now, reverse the polarity on the Dusk Singularity.”

Not only haven’t I sung in nearly three months, I haven’t used any of my gifts, except for, most recently, the telepathy.

I wiggle my fingers in the sunblaster gloves before making two fists.

Two silver-gold cannons—one on each wing—appear to my left and right through the viewports. The Solarity shifts its shape to match my movements. I move my hands left and right, and the cannons rotate, following my movements.

I release sunrays into the sunblasters. Energy is channeled from my body into the cannons, and I send yellow beams of light energy at the collapsing black hole as we race toward it. And I sing a song covering the last eighty-eight days.

With each stanza, my voice gets louder.

When I hit the refrain, I think of singularity pulsing, pulling us toward the black hole, and of light lost, upset stomachs, and Narista’s vision of a future that couldn’t be.

My voice fills the cockpit.

Hali covers her ears, screaming.

Baer looks away. The sunblasters cannot contain all of my light.

But still I sing as the Solstar—my sun solitaire—lights up around my neck.

“Singularity”

Yellow boogered bile in my mouth

Yesterday's lunch greeting

It's a gift it's a curse

Number days downcounted

Summer Solstice fire blazes

It courses in it courses out

Meandering sinuosity

Dreamvision's future

Of the dystopian singularity 

Railyard in my head

Broken thought frisson

Licking dog paw tidal goop

Wild pears curbside wasted, rotting

Mind wandering neurological pathology

Numbed to the infinite density of despair

Elemental powers dawning

From the dead earth's bosom 

Blacked hole event horizons 

Firegale dazer gazing

Invariable space-timer curvatures

Solstice supernova seizure

Differential dimensionless quality

Poised dancer singing

Inevitable events unfolding

Blurs reality and dream

Warn only one

Made the frontal lobe phone call

Aurora aura corona flashes

Diffused sun water gleams

Glistening glow girl

Solstice the sun rising

Swallow yellow boogered bile

The catalyst is kindling

It courses in it courses out

Meandering sinuosity

Dreamvision's future

Of the dystopian singularity 

Drift glide flow

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

Dreamvision's future

Of the dystopian singularity 

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

Melted flesh burnt skull smiles

It knows too

Tastes the flavor of death

Yellow boogered bile pools

Swallow

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

It courses in it courses out

My dystopian dreamvision

My dystopian dreamvision

Light energy from the solar cannons flows into the black hole, swallowing it. The sunlight slows at the space-time curvature, becoming more solid than particle. Like snot, the yellow light builds up around the edges of the black hole.

All this light must really be annoying my sister.

I sense her thoughts. Her hopelessness. Her anger.

“Now!” I yell. “Now, Narista, break out. No longer shall you be my shadow.”

Below us, the Dusk Singularity glows purple. It’s true—Narista’s ship is an antenna. But like a speaker can be a microphone, an antenna can also give off a signal.

Narista releases a nemepulse—purple electrical energy, like one of my solarplosions—through the Dusk Singularity. Her ship amplifies the signal.

The powers of the Nemstar and Solstar and those that bear them combine at the black hole. Time and space collapse on themselves in the foreground of Nemesis.

For a moment, there again is no light nor sound.

A shock wave of silverdimlight radiates from the hole in space-time, separating the Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity from each other, pushing them beyond the original event horizon.

Baer and Corona regain control of the two ships.

As we race away, the black hole disappears like a firefly blinking out.

In the aft camera, the dark star Nemesis is unharmed, remaining beautifully black with a purple edged hue.

“Yahoo!” Baer yells.

It’s apparently what they do in those space movies he used to watch.

I just smile.

So does my sister, nodding her head to me in the holocom display.

We are partners again.

We are family again.

We are sisters.

SOJORN

S07Y 178D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

We rendezvous near Nercury, but time is downcounting. There’ll be no celebrations this time. We’re short four solitaires and four elementals. War looms.

The Terran pod is transferred to the Rising Sun.

Baer will make sure it is installed.

Corona will be staying on the Dusk Singularity, teaching Narista and Eos all she knows.

We have two ships to take on a Ferocity armada.

It’s clear to me now that each ship must bear an elemental and a solitaire.

Eight ships to take on eight billion Ferocity.

“We’ll go to Aero first,” Narista says, “to look for the Airan Elemental, for Aerynn.”

“Terra will be our first stop,” I say. “We’ll retrieve the four gems I hid and let Hali try out the water solitaire.”

“I’ll start on the next ship,” Baer adds. “Terra is the perfect place to find that much water, and I can use the debris from the Ferocity ships in Key West.”

Behind me, I can almost hear Hali smile at the thought of all that water and finally getting her solitaire.

“I’ll start on a ship too,” Eos adds. “We’re going to need something special, something wide open for the Airan. They hate confined spaces.”

“We’ll need two ships for you boys too,” Narista says.

“I already know what I’m going to call it,” Baer says. “And everyone is going to know that it’s an Aethan vessel come to kick ass.”

He’s right. It’s time to bring the fight to the enemy.

It’s time to make a statement.

It’s time to give the galaxy a stellar pep talk.

We can win the next Seven-Clan Civil War if we combine our forces. If we rise above the differences that sundered the clans from one another.

The pink icons on the blue screens of the Rising Sun flash red.

“Proximity alert,” Corona says. “We’ve got a Ferocity fleet incoming.

“Sunblasters online,” I say.

In the holocom, Narista echoes me. “Nemepulse activated.”

The Ferocity have no idea what they’re flying into.

It’s time to fight back. It’s time to avenge the Soleria and Nemar.

As our enemy rounds the far side of Nercury, I can’t help but smile as I hear Baer’s name for his ship in his thoughts.

The Astral Seascaper.

SHOT HEARD ’ROUND THE GALAXY

S07Y 179D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

A shot I’m taking

A vow I’m breaking

Time for lasting change

In a galaxy strange

Regrets forsaken

A kill I’m making

A future to arrange

Death from a sage

The Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity round the far side of Nercury, the first planet of the Nemar System, to confront a Ferocity fleet of seven ships. Led by the larger peanut-shaped command ship, six of the smaller vessels rush to engage us.

“Should we hail them?” Hali asks from the seat behind me.

In the copilot seat to my right, Baer replies, “No.”

I echo him, as does Narista on the holocom.

“Are you sure?” Hali asks.

“We need to engage,” Corona says from my sister’s ship. Behind her, I can see Eos nod in agreement.

If the approaching Ferocity ships only knew they were facing down four elementals who bore solitaires—Baer, Narista, Eos, and me—and a fifth elemental—Hali—they might rethink their attack.

But we don’t want the Ferocity to think. Too much of the last war was deliberate and reactionary—like the invasion that burned Terra back to the Stone Age, killing seven billion.

It’s time to fight back.

It’s time to take the war to them, even if the Ferocity are in Nemar air space. This battle, here today, will put the galaxy on notice. Allies are grouping together, and there will be a resistance.

“Solstice?” Hali asks again.

“Actually,” I say, “I will hail them.”

I press the microphone icon on the blue and pink holographic tablet in front of me. “This is Solstice Dayton. Leave Nemar space or we will shoot you down.”

“Got a lock on the command ship,” Corona relays from the Dusk Singularity on a channel the Ferocity cannot hear. “It’s the Soleria Bane.”

“What?” Baer asks.

“It’s a command ship,” Corona replies, “a special command ship.”

“This is Pyrellax,” the Ferocity ship responds.

“The Empress?” Hali whispers.

Baer and I nod.

“Stacy Pyre,” I reply, using the name we all once knew her by. She had been a friend and even fought at our sides. She was Ferocity—we didn’t know that back then—but she represented a different faction within her clan. Now that she’s ascended to the leadership in her younger brother’s place, I suspect things will be different.

“Pyrellax, if you please,” she replies. “That other name no longer has a meaning for me. But you should know that, Princess, having fought all those years in the slipstream against me.”

Before I can respond, the leader of the Ferocity continues, “And how is the Duchess?” That’s Narista’s formal title, the Duchess of Darkness, leader of the seventh clan, the Nemar. “Has she recovered from all those years of torment you let her suffer?”

“Queen, if you please,” Narista snaps. “And I’m fine. It’s you that did the torturing, like you did to my mother.”

“Shouldn’t the title be the Princess’s option,” Pyrellax replies. “Nonetheless, it is good that Solterra is dead along with the last of the Soleria.”

“They’re getting closer,” Baer whispers, pointing out the viewport to the seven Ferocity ships growing in size above the atmosphere of Nercury. Beyond the first planet in the Nemar system, the dark star Nemesis glows purple along its edges, casting shadows on the approaching fleet.

I nod, acknowledging him. “I won’t be claiming that title,” I reply to Pyrellax. I focus on her face on the hologram display. Despite the blue and pink hue inherent to the monitors on my ship, Pyrellax’s skin is gray, like all Ferocity. But it is also wrinkled, and her black hair has turned nearly white. While she has aged in the seven decades since the Ferocity attacked Terra, my sister and I have not, having been blessed with the long life of the royal houses of the Soleria and Nemar. “My sister, Narista, will succeed our grandmother. She has earned that right.”

The older women is surprised. Why would I willingly give up power? It might not even compute for her, or she might think I’m a coward.

“You look tired, my old friend,” I say. “You should look to your own system.”

“We cannot do that,” Pyrellax replies. “We need to verify the existence of an eighth solitaire and elemental for ourselves.”

“Here,” Eos says over the holocom. “You can go home now.”

I press the sunblaster icon on the screen in front of me. Outside on the wings of the Rising Sun, two cannons appear through the energy shield that surrounds my ship. In front of me, sheer pink gloves appear made from light and energy particles.

“This is not a negotiation,” I say. Ferocity ships are equipped with flame torches that can only operate within the atmosphere of a planet. They need oxygen to burn. And while the iron that their ships are made from is nearly indestructible, the ships themselves built for ramming, they are no match for my sister’s and my new-found weapons.

“This is your only warning,” Narista adds from the Dusk Singularity. “Go home or die.”

They’re accelerating,” Baer says. “Shoot them down before they ram us.”

Duh.

I slip my hands into the pink gloves and activate the sunblasters by making two fists. I tuck in my thumbs and rotate my hands ninety degrees inward and then to the left and right, parallel to each other. The cannons outside on the ship’s wings follow my movements as long as I don’t cross my arms.

Corona conceived and built our weapon system, and now she’s done a similar thing on Narista’s ship.

I pull my hands back slightly, flexing my elbows, and then jam them forward, straightening my arms. I wiggle my fingers and  rotate my palms upward. Energy flows from my body into the weapon system as I release sunrays. The sunblasters channel my light-heat energy from inside the ship to the cannons outside.

Beams of yellow light shoot from each side of the Rising Sun. I aim at the ship nearest the command ship. I need Pyrellax alive. She’s the only one who can convince her people to stop their relentless goal of ruling the galaxy. Like lasers, the sunbeams burn narrow holes into the hardened Ferocity iron shell of the peanut ship.

Corona moves the Dusk Singularity to take up a flanking position, circling to the right of the approaching Ferocity ships. A purple shock wave emanates from their ship like an event horizon from Nemesis.

“Taking us up,” Baer says, even though there is no up in space. Narista’s shock wave—the nemepulse—flows from the disc-shaped Dusk Singularity like a purple ring in all directions. It’s not very tall, but we don’t want to be hit by that either.

The purple wave strikes the nearest Ferocity ship in the side. Electricity rips around the peanut ship, shocking it. Like an EMP—electromagnetic pulse—the nemepulse shuts down all its systems. The Ferocity ship lurches to the side and falls toward the ship nearest it.

Ferocity iron is strong and yet can easily be damaged by the same material. The two ships collide, causing fissures within their hulls. Air rushes out, and the ships implode under the pressure.

As Narista takes down those two ships, my sunblasters make a hole in the ship I’m attacking. Like the others, air rushes in, and the ship implodes, crushing itself.

There are no flames, not like those movies Baer used to watch. Without oxygen, fire just can’t survive in space.

“I wish we’d get an explosion,” he says as he angles the Rising Sun downward.

The three remaining smaller ships rush to engage us, ignoring Narista.

“They’re adapting,” Corona says over the speaker.

“Narista can’t attack if they’re too close to us,” Baer says.

He’s right, of course. That means there are three on me.

“I’ve got the command ship,” Narista says. Like a frisbee, the Dusk Singularity spins around the three Ferocity vessels and bears down on Pyrellax’s ship.

Hali yelps behind me. “Do something.”

“Take the middle one out,” Baer suggests calmly.

I focus both rays on the middle Ferocity ship. Light energy flows from my body, through my hands, and into the sunblasters as I aim at the nose of the middle peanut. My hair and eyes light up, shedding a glow on the cockpit of the Rising Sun. While Hali looks away, Baer slips on a pair of old Wayfarer sunglasses. I smile as the sunblasters rip through the middle peanut. The ship cracks in two. As the air rushes out, it forces the two halves apart. Propelled outward, the halves slam into the other two ships. The left and right ships rip apart. Anything not tied down rushes out of the ships into the void of space.

Including people.

Ferocity are people too.

My smile fades. The Ferocity ships always staff a crew of seven, and even if they are from another clan, they are still living beings. I’ve killed twenty-eight from the Fire Clan in minutes, more than I’ve ever done in such a short period, ever.

It doesn’t feel real.

It feels too real.

It’s bloodless but just as deadly.

A gray body—a Ferocity one—frozen in space, covered in a thin sheen of ice, strikes our viewport as we fly into the destruction I’ve caused.

Baer leans forward on the W-shaped steering wheel, causing our ship to dive and avoid the debris field.

Closer to the planet’s atmosphere, a nemepulse from the Dusk Singularity reaches Pyrellax’s command ship. Her ship maneuvers upward, rising above the pulse.

The problem with implosions or ripping ships apart is that once the reaction reaches the center—like a star imploding on its core—they bounce off the center of mass, creating a reaction like a supernova. While far less powerful, the debris field shoots out in all directions.

It’s our first battle, so I should cut Baer some slack, but I scream anyway. “Dammit, Baer!”

Ferocity iron smashes into the Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity. The Solaria Bane, piloted by Pyrellax’s more experienced crew, spins away from the debris.

The Dusk Singularity dives through the debris, performing the same counter maneuver as us.

“Shit,” Baer says as our ship collides with my sister’s.

SEPARATIONS

S07Y 180D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Star lit blazed in

Separation

Split parts will launch

Invasion

Pyrellax escapes on the Soleria Bane, steering away from the battle, leaving behind the six destroyed Ferocity ships but also the damaged Rising Sun and Dusk Singularity.

Even as our ship lurches sideway, Baer says, “Shoot her.”

I angle the sunblasters away from center to my far right, firing a final shot at the Soleria Bane. Below us, Narista’s ship releases a nemepulse. The purple shock wave chases my beams of light.

The sunrays strike the nose of Pyrellax’s ship seconds before the EMP hits the back. Yellow and purple combine, forming a silver-hued lightning-like electrical shock that rips around the Ferocity ship. It spins widely out of control like a football that has been tipped by a lineman, erratically floating away.

Next to me, Baer tries to right the Rising Sun by turning the steering wheel hard to the right. The ship, however, is unresponsive. The blue and pink displays in front of me and my crew blink.

Before I can command it, Hali sends a message to Corona on the Dusk Singularity. “We’ve lost helm control.” She glances at the screen as it fades in and out. “Solar batteries are malfunctioning. Can you pursue?”

“Negative,” Corona replies as the com system crackles in and out. “Same thing here.”

In the distance, Pyrellax spins away with her crew on her ship. Within a minute, the Soleria Bane is no longer visible as it rounds the far edge of Nercury.

“We’re losing them,” Baer says.

“What can we do?” I ask. “Corona, give me options!”

“We set down on Nercury,” she replies, “and make repairs before we fall from the sky.”

Baer taps the holographic display in front of him, focusing in on the pink icon that looks like two AA batteries. “Ten percent and falling.”

“Can we catch them?” I ask.

“Yes,” Corona says, “but it will be the death of us all.”

The collision with Narista’s ship when we avoided the Ferocity debris field has damaged her ship as well as ours, causing a drain on our power reserves.

“Most of our power is being diverted to shield integrity,” Corona says. “It’s draining everything.”

“What icon is that?” Baer asks.

Eos speaks through the holocom from the other ship. “It’ll look like your ship with a glow around it.” Corona has done a good job bringing him up to speed on the holographic icon/tablet controls she designed for the Rising Sun and repurposed for the Dusk Singularity. Both ships are set up to run like our iPhones of old.

Baer finds the shield icon on his display. The pink glow around the blue Rising Sun icon is blinking.

The nose of my ship disappears for a moment, reminding me that this ship was born from mating a Ferocity peanut ship with my Solarity. I lean to my right and touch the forward prominence between Baer and me. The cylinder—one of two on my ship—creates the energy shield that surrounds the Ferocity iron hull, giving my ship the fighter jet shape. The prominence is burning up.

“Dammit.” I pull my hand back, shaking it before slipping my fingers into my mouth.

“Put her down,” I say. “Land on Nercury.”

“Unadvisable,” Corona counters.

Narista interrupts. “No. We chase Pyrellax down now.”

She’s the more reckless, the more fearless of the two of us. But I’ve already ruled that option out. We don’t sacrifice our lives to take out Pyrellax. Both Narista and I have tried to die to change how things turn out, and it doesn’t work. My sister and I are doomed to live in the galaxy we remake.

Baer whispers to me, “It’s just like Mercury back home,” reminding me what I should know. “Nercury is hot on one side and freezing on the other.”

“Can we make the line on the horizon?” I ask, referring to the zone of the planet that is on the edge of the side that faces the dark star Nemesis and the side that never does.

“No,” Baer replies. We’re drifting sideways, sinking toward the Dusk Singularity below us. “It’s a dead stick,” he says as he moves the steering wheel back and forth. “We’ve got no control.”

“Options?” I ask. “Come on, people. We just escaped a black-hole event horizon.”

All I hear is crickets.

Until Hali, the least technical of us all, says, “Shut it all down. Give the batteries a chance to recharge before we get pulled into a decaying orbit around Nercury. Find the structural damage and repair it.”

A voice from the other ship speaks. It cracks in and out, and it takes a second before I realize it’s Corona. “It’s the lower hatch,” she says. “You’ve got structural damage there.” The Dusk Singularity is right below us, and its crew can see our underbelly.

“It’s in the cargo bay,” Baer says.

“There’s damage to our outer ring,” Narista adds, “where the two ships collided.”

“Shut down. Make repairs,” I say.

“Stay in sight,” Narista replies.

I nod. “We’ll get Pyrellax next time.”

To my right, Baer powers down everything he can think of, keeping the remaining power for essentials like our energy shield and atmospheric controls.

“It’s going to get cold in here,” he says, “and very floaty.”

I unbuckle my seat’s safety harness as he turns off the artificial gravity. “Hali, stay on the bridge,” I say. “Shout if anything major happens. Baer, you’re with me.”

I float past Hali toward the pod chamber behind the bridge.

She grabs Baer’s arm as he follows me. “Major?” she asks.

“Don’t let us fall into the planet or hit Narista’s ship,” he replies.

I can almost hear his smirk. This must be the life he’s always wanted but could never let himself believe he’d have. He’s an engineer and a pilot on a real-life spaceship. His teenage self, before the Firegale and Ferocity invasion, probably couldn’t even dream up something this awesome.

I’m kind of hoping we just don’t fall out of space.

He floats next to me through the pod room where the eight elemental pods are lined up, four to a side. Sun, Aether, Air, Earth, Water, Fire, Nether, and Terran. The solitaires and the elementals are at the heart of this war. The Ferocity want them because they threaten their stranglehold on the galaxy. But only elementals like me, Baer, Narista, Eos, Aerynn, Everet, Hali, and Fyra can wield the solitaires.

“This is awesome, right?” Baer asks. “We just did a space battle. Next time we need music. We need a soundtrack. And fire. We need more explosions.”

He’s not even thinking about the twenty-eight Fire Clan I killed and the fourteen Narista did.

I place my hand on the Air pod, propelling myself toward the balcony. Aerynn, Everet, Hali, and Fyra will be new to war, replacing Lani, Kase, Jordin, and Fusion. They chose to die and not regenerate in the pods with their gems. It’s their descendants that will have to finish this war. For now, we only have Hali. We don’t know where the other three elementals are.

But we have all the solitaires. I touch my neck, feeling the Solstar floating in its necklace. Baer, Narista, and Eos all have their gems around their necks too, while the four others remain hidden on Terra.

I grab onto the railing of the stairs leading down from the pod room to the cargo bay to check the damage in our hull. Nothing is leaking audibly, but anything not tied downs has been pulled toward the hatch door.

“Maybe the hatch just popped open,” Baer says, pushing ahead of me. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and kicks off from the lowest railing. “Wait here. No point in both of us being sucked out.”

Once the ships are fixed, Narista and I will head our separate ways. Her goal is to find Aerynn on the air planet, Airo, and with Eos and Corona, construct a ship for her. It’s going to take eight ships, eight elementals, and eight solitaires to take on the Ferocity fleet. Of that I am sure.

While Narista does that, Baer, Hali, and I need to recover the four gems on Terra and find vessels for Baer and Hali. There are lots of Ferocity ships in Key West from the final battle for the planet. We’ll head there first.

Baer gulps a breath, holding it as he near the center of the cargo bay. To his right is the area where I keep my Lyricbook, my surfboard, and my sword. It’s where I spend any downtime. To the far right is the galley and sleep quarters, which are under the bridge. We’ve also got a fire pit and a hot tub for Hali in this bay. The pit is near me and the stairs. The Ferocity used to torture people with it. We use it to chill at night, sitting on the benches around it. Closer to the cargo bay door is Baer’s workbench where he fixes and makes things.

I look back at my area. The surfboard is gone, having been pulled toward the hatch.

Baer pushes off from the pile around the hatch and back to me.

I reach out, and he grabs my right hand while I use the other to hang onto the stair rail.

He gulps a breath and then says, “Losing air around the hatch. It’s open a bit. The Solarity is keeping the ship from letting too much air out, but the air is thin around the hatch. And it’s keeping the ship from ripping apart.”

Hull integrity. That’s important too.

“We just need to close it,” he says.

I nod. Once it’s closed, the energy shield—the Solarity—won’t draw so much power from the batteries.

Hali shouts from the top of the stairs, “They’ve finished up the repairs.”

So soon?

But then I remember, Narista built the Dusk Singularity with her subconscious mind. She’s a technopath now too. For the first time since we gained our powers, hers rival mine in strength and quantity. But we’re also in her home star system, the Nemar System, with the dark star Nemesis at its center. This place is the source of her power, like mine is with the Sol System.

“Just help me tug on the handle,” Baer says.

We push off from the bottom of the stairs together, holding hands. The repair is as easy as Baer described. We lift off my surfboard, a few of his tools, and some chairs from the galley that were sucked toward the opening. The hatch handle is imbedded into a disk that normally slides between the floor and the hull when we dock with another ship. It’s open like a quarter inch. We tug on the handle, but it doesn’t budge.

“Hand me that hammer,” he says, pointing to a floating tool.

I give it to him, and he bangs on the hatch. “It’s just stuck,” he says. “The Dusk Singularity bumped us a bit from the outside. Pull while I tap.”

He hits the hatch again while I apply pressure, pulling on the handle.

The disc slides toward me, closing the hatch.

“That should do it,” he says.

“Hali,” I call, “get the artificial gravity back on and start activating systems.”

An hour later, after straightening the cargo bay, we’re all on the bridge again. We spend the rest of the day looking for leaks and running system checks. When the batteries fully charge and the oxygen level remains stable, we eat and then get some rest.

The next morning, Narista reports in. “There’s no sign of Pyrellax and her wounded ship.” So, Narista’s going to head toward the jump point at the nineth planet and ride the slipstream to Airo in the Aira System, looking for Aerynn.

“We’ll head to Terra,” I say.

My mom and I never said good-byes, so I don’t do it with my sister.

“Keep in touch,” Baer says to Eos, his ship-building counterpart. Eos was a jewelry maker and a blacksmith. Baer’s handy, and his father was an engineer. If anyone can build stuff from scrap, it’s these two. I don’t know if Hali ever did anything besides swim. I’m a singer/dancer. Narista lived on a farm. But Corona has basically downloaded all the galaxy’s knowledge. Baer will need her help too, but she’s going to be with Eos and Narista. I’m not sure how fast or how well communication will work from opposite ends of the galaxy, but our two crews pledge to keep in touch

It’ll be on the boys to make the vessels and the girls to lead them into battle.

Narista waves from her ship, leaving me with a projected thought. Watch your back. The Ferocity will be coming for us now.

“Laters,” I say, and the Dusk Singularity moves off.

SLIPSTREAM

S07Y 181D. Nemar System.

SOLSTICE

Line string chain reaction

Space-time continuum

Downcount preparation

Moments are folded in on

I picture the map of the seven systems, recalling the order and locations from my song. Sun, Aether, Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Nether. The systems line up in a circle with the stars in order: Sol, Aetha, Eartari, Feroxima, and Nemesis, such that the Sun Clan’s and Nether Clan’s stars are next to each other on the circle. Aira and Wydra are like poles at the top and bottom of the sphere.

The sphere surrounds the eighth system, Terra Prime, a planet-like star. No moons or other planets orbit Terra Prime. I imagine it has rings like Saturn, but they might be off axis, like Uranus. This is where we will find peace, where all of the clans came from originally.

“The myth of the Soleria Clan is incomplete,” Solterra said to me once in a memory. “We weren’t the first, just the strongest, early on. At the center of the seven systems lies Terra Prime, a single planet with no star, from which all life has evolved. In many ways, it is both star and planet, emitting light but also accepting it from the other systems. The seven suns from the seven systems cast their light on her and she on them. My mistake was thinking I could recreate on Terra, your Earth, the majesty of Terra Prime. But only on the star-planet Terra Prime can there be peace among all clans. Can you imagine a place so beautiful that there are seven stars and countless planets and moons in the night sky? How can there not be peace there?”

But to get to Terra Prime and complete my grandmother’s dream, we need Eos to lead us there. The combination of the Terran pod, elemental, and solitaire will guide our way. But for that to happen, we need to beat the Ferocity or convince them of a lasting peace. And yet to go forward, we must go back to where it started for me. We might have fired over Nercury the first shots in the Seventh Clan Civil War, but now our next move is to return to Terra.

I know Narista will use a jump port to get to the Aira system, using a known wormhole. But I’ve ridden the slipstream and bent it to my will. We’ll be taking a different way to Terra.

The Rising Sun is like a surfboard and the slipstream is the sea. Ocean waves travel in groups of seven, every surfer will tell you that. The magnetic waves emitting from a star are the safest waves. The solar wind waves are the slowest. Their sine curve is nearly flat, but there are still seven humps that repeat. They’re too safe. So they’re too risky. The war is begun, and being safe will just doom us. Plus, the Nemar System is next door to the Sol System on the sphere. Sol and Nemesis are symbiotic binary stars. Whereas Narista has to navigate through a whole other system—Aetha—to get to the Aira System, we’ll just be flying through the empty space between systems.

The gravitational waves are faster. On the ocean, they’d be like the choppy water. It’s like being pulled seven different ways from the nearest celestial bodies.

Planetary systems similar to the ring system of Saturn are relatively flat—more disk-like than spherical—so even though there is no up in space, Baer essentially takes us up above the plane of Nercury’s orbit around Nemesis.

“Which wave are we taking to Terra?” he asks, looking at the pink and blue holographic screen in front of him.

“Gravitational,” I say again.

Below the solar wind, magnetic, and gravitational waves are other ones we don’t touch. Corona never even explained them. She’s got some sort of lock-out feature that totally makes me want to try them. There’s maybe three waves, and I bet two of them cause parallaxes. Which would really be cool at first glance, but I’ve learned my lesson after getting stuck for twenty-eight decades with Pyrellax.

Baer presses the gravitational wave on the touch screen and then clicks an OK button.

We’ll race above the Nemar System, passing Nemesis, the dark star, and then the planets: Nercury, Nenus, Never, Nars, the Nelt, Nupitor, Naturn, whatever the eighth planet is called—is it Neptune too?—and then Planet 9. Once we leave the Nemar System, we’ll be heading through empty space.

The gravitational waves are choppier than other waves, so we all strap in.

The slipstream is like a wave cresting, ebbing, or flowing, and the way to cut across it quickly—time—is not by riding the wave or pushing yourself over it and fighting, but by going through it. But you can’t really go through a wave in a system without accidentally hitting planets or moons—which are like rocks on the shore because, basically, they are rocks—unless you jump out of the wave. So, we ride the waves above the Nemar System, but once we get beyond it, we’ll travel level with the space between this system and the Sol System, which is like swimming under the ocean’s crests, ebbs, and flows.

That’s how the slipstream is a sea. Solelena told me that when she died. She told me to find the city by the sea and to ask Baer because he’d know. That made me think it was Portsmouth, New Hampshire, that we needed to find. But years after, and lots of repressed memories recovered later, I think she meant Terra Prime.

It would have been way easier if Solelena had said, “Go to Terra Prime.” But her death was before we even knew about the Ferocity and the other clans. I guess I had to learn that stuff on my own. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have believed.

If my mom had said with her dying breath, “BTW, an evil race of fire-loving aliens wants to control a set of gems you haven’t found yet and peace can only be found on a star-like planet at the center of this part of the galaxy,” I would have just said, “I love you, Mom, but I’m calling bullshit.”

Baer touches my hand, smiling. He’s happy to fly in silence, and Hali keeps turning around like she wants to get in the hot tub. She’d live there if we let her. Baer can tell when I’m deep in thought. Daydreams are how I work out things in my head, but also how I keep my seizures at bay. It’s been years since I had one, and I want to keep it that way.

I return his smile and then stare off into space through the viewport.

I picture my old surfboard, Sunbeams Blacklight, as the Solarity and the ocean wave as space, and I imagine Terra on the other side as a shore. That’s how I would have done it in my one-person Solarity vessel. But on the Rising Sun, Baer has to call up stellar charts and select Terra in the Sol System.

Bright lights race by us on all sides.

Baer hoots and hollers like he always does. He calls this hyperspace or warp speed, like he’s seen in the star war trek movies he used to watch as a boy. It reminds him of being a kid, I am sure, and how the space cowboy would make a daring escape, or how fast some pirate would do the parsnip run in.

In front of me, a giant black wave that only I can see crests. I duck—it’s an old habit from when I traveled in the Solarity—but Corona designed the Rising Sun to make these movements automatically. Baer keeps his hands on the controls, but it’s not necessary.

When things level off, Hali excuses herself.

Without saying, Baer and I know she needs time in the hot tub. Since she’s a Wydran, her gray dolphin-like skin dries out in the artificial air of our ship. She’s covered in a thin layer of mucus but not much else. Since I met her in captivity on that Ferocity ship, I’ve never seen her wear clothes, but everything’s covered up. She’s got pockets or flaps where there should be breasts and her unmentionables. I guess we’re used to it. I wonder if the Airan that Narista will meet have a similar aversion to clothes.

On the front viewport, wave after wave comes at us. Baer can’t see them. To his eyes, it’s just dots of light rushing by on all sides. But I can see the waves. I can track the variations in light. Soleria and Nemar can both do it, but not the other clans. It’s not easy at first to reconcile what I see with the Rising Sun’s adjustments. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been tossed from my surfboard and I’m going under. I tell myself I’m not drowning. I’m learning to swim in the breakers. When I still duck under those waves, Baer smiles at me. He knows I can see what his eyes can’t. He’s convinced the slipstream ride is twice as fun for me.

“Coming up on it,” he says. Sol and Nemesis are close to each other on a galactic scale, so the trip doesn’t seem that long, More than three-quarters of the trip will be spent navigating the Sol System.

The jump point in the Sol System is near Planet X. Like the ninth planet that Narista jumped from in the Nemar System, we’ll be arriving in the Sol System using a naturally occurring off-ramp. It’s a wormhole and provides the safest way to begin the navigation between planets.

We won’t fly above or below the disc of the Sol System, not like we did to get out of the Nemar System. That would the fastest way to Terra, but Baer knows I’ll want to see Saturn at least, so we’ll navigate between the planets.

“Swing by Saturn?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say. And then I surprise myself. “Neptune too, please.”

He pulls the pink slider back on the blue screen in front of him. Calling up the map of the Sol System, he presses the blue planet. It’s the one named for the dad of that kid who stole lightning. I wish that kid was around, and some of the other heroes I remember from the books we all read growing up. We could use a wizard, an archer, a girl who could tell when she was dreaming, and the one that likes to run in mazes.

But there’s no Percy, Harry, Katniss, Tris, or Thomas in my story.

Just a reluctant Soleria princess.

But I have something they don’t. I’m self-aware.

I once saw the future, and I still see the past.

Space-time is meant to be bent. For now, I will walk the road of the present, and yet I know it’s time to start jumping again between what is, what can be, and what isn’t. The answers can be found in the folds of the fabric, between the waves, and at the center of the hourglass. I am the sun sister of time and place bound by neither, yet still aware of what governs the universe.

The Slipstream Theory of Neuro-Quantum Mechanics.

Space-time is what you perceive it to be.

Only what you perceive to be real has a quantifiable value.

For both to be true, the opposite cannot be.

Or the universe would cease to exist.

The Burnt Sunset Series:

The Solstice Dayton

The Burnt Sunset

The Aurora Dazed

The Evolved Dawning

The Sunrise Nadir

The Solstar Flare

The Seven Sundered

The Rising Sun Series:

The Solstice Variant

The Rising Sun

The Dusk Singularity

The Astral Seascaper

The Soleria Bane

The Lost Solace

The Slipstream Echo

Poetry | Lyrics:

The Lyricbook Solstice

The Solitary Edge

The Summer Happy

About the Author:

Chris Ledoux lives in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, with his wife, Celeste, his children Zacharie, Aurelie, and Ranger, and their dog, Summer.

Copyright © 2022 Chris Ledoux

All rights reserved.

Baer Solstice Creative, LLC, Portsmouth, NH

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