by J Boothby
I crack them open and see that the doors open into the street.
I slide out and have to stop and catch my breath.
There's a whole city out here.
Tall, narrow towers shaped from black glass stretch into the air and end in sharp peaks.
Lights flicker inside them in shades of violet and red and emerald. Orbs of glass move between them, lit up from within. Some orbs are large enough to be buildings in their own right, hovering in the air over the rest of the city
The sky is an intense dark spiral. It turns slowly up there, spanning from one end of the horizon to the other.
I have seen all of this before. I know those buildings. I know that sky.
I have a strange feeling like I've come home, and I guess in a way I have.
I remember walking streets like these, in crowds of people. Everyone was taller than me—like a forest of legs.
I remember holding someone's hand.
I could stare at all this for hours, I realize, but I have to keep moving.
I check the aether. I head upstream.
I spend at least twenty minutes moving through the streets. They're all mostly empty, but I do find a few smaug. They're moving quickly in the same direction I'm going, and they're more beautifully dressed than any smaug I've ever seen before. They wear high collars wrapped in jewels, along with bizarrely complicated headpieces that cover their whole faces, and stretch out horizontally on either side. Silver and golden cloaks drift in their wake, undulating in an unfelt breeze.
I keep out of sight but follow them.
They head deeper into the city, toward the center.
The streets grow wider. I start to hear voices again.
A whole lot of them.
I hear music, too—eerie and off-key and yet strangely familiar.
The streets end in tall, silver gates that have been worked into the shapes of two winged dragons, facing each other.
Beyond the gates is a huge courtyard that is packed with smaug. All of them are wearing elaborate, elegantly formal dress. At the far side of the courtyard is a tall, dome-shaped building, covered in windows. That must be the residence Uriah and Xyr were talking about.
Surrounding the residence are gigantic statues of dragons.
Each one is at least forty feet high, and they all look as though they were cut from the same stone. Each stands or sits in a different pose. All of them are carved as if they're looking down onto the crowd.
I can't tell how many at a quick glance, but there are a lot of them.
They're incredibly realistic.
In front of the statues, a set of broad, curved stairs leads up to a great platform. On the platform are set three large thrones. The center one is blindingly white and placed higher than the other two.
Fortunately, the thrones are all empty.
The silver gates swing open for the smaug I've been following. They glide through it.
I debate darting ahead and trying to duck through the gate too, but I'm not quick enough. Also, I'd be pretty visible once I was in there. I don't see any other races in the courtyard—just smaug.
The aether flows out from that dome, though. So I've got to get in there somehow.
I can see many other streets end in gates too, around the courtyard, and some of them are a lot closer to the dome than I am now. I decide to work my way around to one of those and try to get in that way.
Maybe I'll see something, or someone.
Maybe I'll see Sam, I think.
I'm wrong. Instead, I see Max.
I spy him through the gates from the second street I try.
He's talking to a group of smaug in uniform, one of them with several rows of medals on her chest, the others carrying guns that look suspiciously Earth-like.
I feel a surge of anger rise up in me. It's his fault I'm here looking for Sam. His fault the Narrow King has the heart back.
With all of the aether that's flowing under my feet, I bet I can burn him from here.
But that's probably not going to get me to Sam.
Instead, I try something else. When I can see he's done talking and about to move away into the crowd, I place my hand to the ground. I send a pulse through the aether, directed straight at him.
Sparks erupt at his feet, and he jumps, startled. He looks around but doesn't look in my direction.
So I do it again. This time he looks in the direction of the gate. I step out of my alley so he can see me. And then I step back in.
Got him.
He heads toward the gates, which slide open for him. He leaves the courtyard and finds me in the alley.
He looks as shocked as I feel. “Kylie?” he says. “It’s great that you’re here! How did you—”
Why wait? Let's get this over with.
I haul back and punch him. Right across the jaw.
It's a perfect hit.
His head snaps back, and he takes an involuntary step backward against the building.
“Where's Sam?” I demand. “Where's my key? What the hell did you do, Max?”
He looks dazed.
I pull back my arm to hit him again.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Sam's ok. Really. And I'm sorry, Kylie—”
“You should be!”
“I am, honestly. Look, let me explain—”
I hit him again. Honestly, I don't feel sorry about it at all.
“Talk,” I say.
“Not here,” he says, holding onto the wall for balance and rubbing his jaw. “Just let me show you Sam.”
“Talk,” I say. “Right here, right now.”
“Two minutes,” he says. “Just down this way.” He points away from the courtyard.
“Don't try anything,” I say, putting my hand on the hilt of the Whisperlands knife.
He looks nervous. “I won't, I swear. Here, look…”
“Trust me.” He lifts the key from around his neck and hands it to me. “Look, it's yours, ok? And come on, I'll take you to Sam.”
“You go first,” I say, skeptically. “And I'm watching you.”
“All right,” he says. “All right. Damn, that hurt.”
“There's more where that came from,” I say. I put the cord of the key around my neck and tuck it underneath the Blackstone suit.
That felt too easy.
He leads across the street and takes a few turns into side alleys. He stops at a set of doors on the side of one of the dark glass buildings and presses a bright spot on the wall. The doors hiss open on a small elevator.
We step in. The doors slide shut behind us, and the elevator ascends up the side.
I study him. He's wearing smaug clothes, patterned and trimmed out in silver. His hair is slicked back. His beard is closely trimmed. His boots have big heels on them that make him look taller.
He looks at me with those large brown eyes, and I hate that feeling in my stomach, the one that still wants to unbutton that high-collared shirt of his.
I shake my head. “Start talking,” I say.
He looks at me, then down at the floor. “My father and your family destroyed the Elhyra,” he says quietly. “I'm trying to make it right again.”
I'm not sure what I expected him to say, but that wasn't it. “Wait, what?”
“Have you heard of the Sundering?”
“Sure. Your father did something that broke the Elhyra into pieces.”
“That's your uncle's version, isn't it.”
I shake my head. “What do you mean? “
“My father came here to study the Elhyra, along with your mother. They wanted to find a way to bring more of it back to Earth, as a power source, and the Narrow King wanted to help them. But something went wrong.”
“That's the same story my uncle—”
“What went wrong is that your uncle stole something that belonged to the Narrow King.”
“You mean his heart?”
He nods. “The stone you saw behind the mirror, Kylie. Exactly. The Narrow King is a
person, but he's also integrated with all of the Elhyra—every person, tree, building, cloud. He's the power that holds all of the Elhyra together.”
“I'm listening.”
“Your uncle wanted that power for himself. And other factions within the Syldana wanted control of the Elhyra. Without his heart, the Elhyra fractured. Your mom died.
“I needed your key, and Sam, to help me get the Narrow King his heart back from where your uncle had hidden it. In your basement.”
I shake my head. I don't think I like where this is going.
“The key got me into your mirror, Kylie, where the heart was hidden. And then I needed Sam to open an incursion to get us both here, to the Elhyra.”
“He's too young—”
“He did great, Kylie. With the heart, it was really easy for him. The heart wanted to come home, to the Narrow King. Sam just helped it.”
“He could have died!”
He looks away. “But he didn't. And that's what matters.”
We're high above Elathor now. I stare at the huge vortex, spinning there in the sky above everything. It looks like all the drawings I made as a kid in school, the ones my teachers said were so imaginative.
It feels like we could all fall into it, me and Max, the city and everything in it. “You could have asked me for help, you know.”
“Would you have?”
I'm trying to process this. “There's no way my uncle is responsible for the Sundering.”
“Is he always truthful with you?”
“That's not—”
“Good people can do bad things sometimes, Kylie. Your uncle probably had no idea of what would happen when he stole the heart, at least at the time. The factions that back him might not have told him.”
I shake my head. “My uncle's not working with anyone.”
“Really? Are you sure? There are a number of Syldana families that have long wanted the Narrow King out of the way. Besides, why would he actually have the Narrow King's Heart, anyway?”
I shake my head. “I don't believe you.”
The elevator stops. The doors open onto a long hallway. “Look, come on,” Max says. “Let me show you something.”
He leads down the hallway, makes a few turns.
He stops at a door and knocks.
The door opens. It's an older smaug woman, with dark hair bound back in a braid and subdued clothes.
She sees Max and bows her head. “Trusted One,” she says.
“Khalana,” Max says. He gestures, his hand moving back and forth in the air between them. “Can we come in?”
“Of course,” she says, mirroring his movements.
Her eyes are two different colors—one violet and one blue.
When they pass over me, they widen in surprise.
I think I know her.
But Max calls me inside. It's some sort of nursery or daycare room, with a high window at the far end overlooking the vortex. There are cradles along one wall that are empty, and brightly colored stuffed animals on shelves.
I know this place. I've been here before.
The window has a window seat cut into the wall with thick cushions on it.
Sitting in the pile of cushions is Sam.
He's not alone. Two adult humans are sitting there with him, dressed in smaug clothes.
A man and a woman. They're older than I am, maybe mid-thirties from the looks of it. There's an open book on the cushions between all of them.
“Kylie,” Max says. “This is Edwin and Felicia.”
They look up and smile absently at me.
“They're Sam's parents.”
43
I take a step back as the bottom falls out of my stomach.
I wasn’t expecting this, that’s for sure.
“Um, hi?” I say.
Sam looks up. His eyes are partially lidded—he looks dreamy, or sleepy.
Or maybe happy?
“Kylie!” he says, blinking. He smiles.
I wait for him to launch himself at me, but he’s staying there on the cushions.
In between his parents.
“You must be Kylie,” Felicia says. “Thank you so much for keeping Sam safe for us.”
Edwin stands. “We’re very grateful,” he says. “May the King’s blessings be with you. We’ve been so worried.”
They don’t actually look anything like Sam. Edwin has a hipster beard and a long, thin neck. Felicia has straight blonde hair that’s glossy and very different from Sam’s dark curls.
But Sam looks comfortable with them, so I guess I shouldn’t be so suspicious.
They look vaguely in my direction but don’t seem to want to make eye contact.
“Of course,” I say, awkwardly. “I was happy to help.”
I come closer and kneel down next to Sam. He’s with his family—where he should be. I need to be happy for him.
There’s a book open in his lap. It’s Alice in Wonderland.
“You doing OK, kiddo? Your parents are here. I’m really happy for you.”
Sam smiles and blinks at me again. His expression looks dreamy, like he’s just woken up. He looks up at Felicia and Edwin, and then back at me and nods.
Then he looks back down at the book.
Honestly? I feel like my heart’s about to break a little.
“You should all be really proud,” Max says. “Sam has done great work to help keep everyone safe. He’s really a hero, you know.”
“Our little trooper,” Felicia says, looking vaguely at the wall. There’s something strange about her voice.
Or maybe I just want to think that.
“We’re so happy to be back together,” Edwin says, staring over my shoulder. “As a family.”
There’s something a little off about both of them, actually.
But they are his parents. That’s pretty clear.
I reach over and give Sam a hug. “I’m glad you’re safe,” I say.
“Kylie…” Sam says, looking up again.
His mouth works like he wants to say something else.
Felicia puts her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s finish our book now, Sam,” she says.
Sam nods and looks away from me, and down at the book again.
“Soon, there’ll be cookies,” Edwin says. “When we’re done reading. I bet they’ll have chocolate chips in them.”
“Cookies,” Sam says. “I like cookies.”
“Yes, you do,” Felicia says. “They’re your favorite.”
Khalana watches us all nervously from near the door.
Felicia starts reading aloud, something from Alice in Wonderland. I’m feeling a little down the rabbit hole myself.
Something flashes on Max’s wrist. He looks at it. “We should go,” he says to me.
“I’ll be back soon,” I say to Sam.
Even I don’t believe me.
Sam raises his little hand in an absent wave, without looking up from the book.
Edwin and Felicia nod and smile without looking at me.
It’s a perfect little family scene there on the window seat. One in which I clearly am not meant to be a part of.
I turn away before anyone can see the tear tracing its way down my cheek. I wipe it away angrily.
Max leads the way out the door and into the hallway. But when I pass by the smaug woman, she stops me. “Just one minute,” she says. She walks over to a set of drawers and opens one, takes something out, and then she comes back and presses something into my hand.
“This is for you,” she whispers. “It was always your favorite, Kylie. From your mother.”
It’s a small blue figurine of a dog. It has tiny blue gems for eyes and a golden collar that’s covered with glitter.
She’s right—it was my favorite. I’ve seen this dog in my dreams, hundreds of times. I remember playing with it for hours in this very room, in that exact window seat.
It feels strangely warm in my hands, like the key.
I look up at her. “You remember me?”
>
“I could not forget you if I wanted to,” she says. “Plus, no one in the Elhyra has hair like that.” She touches a ginger strand that’s come loose and hangs down across my face.
Then she takes my hand in both of hers, and I’m surprised to see her kneel.
“I’m so glad you have returned, Kylie,” she whispers. “The Elhyra needs you.”
OK, that’s weird. “I’m not sure I know what you mean?” I say.
“You will soon,” she says. “I’m sure of it. There’s a lot of your mother in you.”
“You knew my mother?”
She nods. “She was smart and strong, Kylie. Just like you.”
Max sticks his head back in from the hallway and gives us a puzzled look. “Khalana?” he says.
“It’s nothing,” she says. “An old woman stumbles.”
Max still looks confused. “We definitely need to go,” Max says.
Like all women’s clothing, the Blackstone suit has no decent pockets. I tuck the small dog down my front, where it rests next to the key.
I can see something on Max’s wrist flashing.
“All right,” I say. I pull Khalana to her feet, though she clearly doesn’t need the help.
“Trust your heart,” she whispers.
“I will,” I say.
I just wish I knew what I needed to trust it about.
44
“Do you believe me now?” Max asks, as we walk back towards the elevator. “At least a little?”
“I’m not sure what I believe,” I say. “Just because Sam’s parents are here doesn’t mean the Narrow King isn’t a bad guy.”
He sighs. The elevator doors slide open. We step in. He presses a spot on the wall, and the doors close.
“Look, how would you feel,” he says, “if some really cool people came to visit you at Poe’s. They seem like really nice and interesting people, and you want to hang out, so you let them stay in your apartment, sleep in your beds, and cook awesome food for them. But then they set Poe’s on fire and then tell you to get out because it all belongs to them now, anyway?”
“That doesn’t seem—”
Max shakes his head. “I know you want to believe your mom and your uncle are good people. I’m sure they were, a lot of the time. But that’s what’s happening here, Kylie. Humans wrecked everything. We broke the Elhyra into pieces. And your uncle is fighting a war to try and keep it that way. I’ve accepted that my dad played a part. I’m just trying to help make that right. What if the Narrow King is just trying to put his world together? What if he’s just trying to fix problems that we caused?”
