

Jeremy Chikalto

and the Hazy Souls

by T.S. DeBrosse

Published by Viral Cat Press

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Tiffany Slotwinski

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook is also available in print at most online retailers.

"Each man is haunted until his humanity awakens."

–William Blake

PART 1

Chapter 1

Choir Song

Lyrna began coughing up a fur ball. "Don't run from the brush next time," said Jeremy, rolling his eyes and placing the fizdruft on the ground. A fizdruft was like a talking house cat, except it would decapitate you in a second if mishandled. But Jeremy Chikalto knew how to handle a fizdruft. You have to pick it up by one ear, grabbing only the endmost tuft of fur. Thanks to a peculiar bundle of nerves stimulated in this way, the wild fizdruft would then become tame. Then it would be safe to extend support to its bottom.

Jeremy loved his fizdruft dearly, and promised his mother that he would always take care of it and allow it to take care of him. It was rumored in Watico that once a fizdruft was tamed, and once its bottom was properly supported, that it would protect its owner by detecting evil presences (Lyrna called them "bad bads"). This was why Jeremy Chikalto needed a fizdruft. Jeremy was the Royal Cajjez of Watico and so was entitled to any object or creature he desired. He asked for Lyrna two years ago following a series of unexplained phenomena.

Jeremy leaned forward on his dressing stool to check his face once more in the mirror. Yes, he was handsome. Ah, but, a tear ran down his cheek, so much more handsome with tears, he thought to himself. Let them talk.

Jeremy was fourteen years old, and he had a habit of staring into his mirror. His reflection showed ivory skin illuminated by custom lighting, soft, golden brown hair falling in waves across his forehead and around his ears, and large, electric blue eyes. His eyes were favored by many an adoring girl. Though only five feet four inches tall, his mother predicted he'd grow to six feet by the time he was sixteen. His mother was vigilant about assessing her son for signs of puberty. Jeremy was a late bloomer.

He stood up and drew back the curtains to his balcony, unlocked the soundproof window, and looked out. Below, the crowd anticipated his entrance. Jeremy smirked and puffed up his chest. Any minute now.

The royal family had prepared for the Watican Awards Ceremony for months. Jeremy dutifully attended choir and dance rehearsals, and was certain he'd top last year's performance. Three pairs of gloves, each bearing the Chikalto crest and embroidered with gold and silver, lay neatly on his desk. Should he choose the white pair? No, no. He shook his head. Tonight called for a majestic purple. Jeremy surveyed the gloves. Where are my purple gloves!

The young Cajjez marched to his bedside and pulled back a thin, pink veil that was attached to the wall. Beneath the veil was a large, red button with the letter "J" carved into its center. Jeremy pressed the button.

"Yes, Cajjez Jeremy?" said the intercom just below the button.

"I want to see the servant who prepared my gloves." Jeremy rapped his fingers on the wall.

"Yes, Cajjez." The intercom clicked off.

Jeremy picked up a whip coiled on a hook just above the closet.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Jeremy gripped the familiar hide in his palm, stroking the metal tassels with his thumb.

An older, graying woman entered and surveyed the room. Jeremy was alone, cradling the whip. "Stella at your service. Cajjez, what is it? Are you not pleased with your gloves?"

"You were assigned a simple task. Make the Cajjez four sets of gloves for the Watican Awards Ceremony."

"Yes, Cajjez."

He smiled. "You were supposed to deliver the purple gloves to my room this morning, but I see only three pairs. There, on my dresser, see?" Jeremy pointed to his dresser. The old woman forced herself to look and nodded. "I'm scheduled to give a performance in less than one minute and your little oversight is holding me up." Jeremy circled his bed, gripping the whip behind his back. "Where are my purple gloves!" Jeremy gritted his teeth and grabbed the servant's hair, jostling her head. A violent jerk brought her face to face with the Cajjez. "Answer me!"

Stella looked into his electric blue eyes. She continued, captivated, "I must have forgotten to get them. They were in a... a separate pouch."

Jeremy paused, allowing the tension to build. His mind wandered for a moment. Have their own special pouch, they must be lovely! He flexed his fingers, imagining the cool silk sensation. "Hold out your hands."

Stella did as she was told. Jeremy tucked his hair neatly behind his ear and then cracked the whip over her hands, splitting the skin just below the knuckles. Blood trickled onto the floor. Three more lashes. The old woman hunched over in pain.

"Clean yourself up and then get me my gloves."

The lights dimmed in the Watican Concert Hall just below Jeremy's balcony window. The concert performance would begin soon.

Stella returned with the gloves. A moth fluttered down from the ceiling and Stella clapped it with her hands. Its dead body fell to the floor. Jeremy gasped.

"I'm sorry," began Stella. "I'll clean it up right away."

"You killed an innocent moth!" Jeremy gripped the offending hand and squeezed. "Why would you do that?"

"Er..." She knitted her brows together and looked down at her shredded hand. "You know what?" She jerked her hand away. "You're insane Jeremy Chikalto and I'm insane for putting up with this." Stella made for the door. "Slavery was abolished hundreds of years ago. This is just a job."

"You're insane for disrespecting me," countered Jeremy. He was too shocked to come up with anything better.

Stella turned around, "Ten years and I still don't know who you are." She bit her lip, turned, and slammed the door behind her.

Jeremy threw his hands into the air. "Whatever." He slipped on his gloves and stretched his fingers. This, of course, meant that he had to trade his black cloak for a softer gray. Lyrna ran between his legs, prickling her whiskers and massaging her gums on his trousers. "Yes, Lyrna, I know. It doesn't match." Jeremy returned to his closet and began perusing his cloaks.

Three-thousand guests filled the Watican Hall. A few people were still arriving through the high-arched doorways, the sparkling gold and silver interior glinting off their jewelery and watches. A magnificent stage overlooked the hall. It was carved from a single slab of an enormous tree and gleamed with the dull shine of years. The stage was held up by marble pillars, intricately carved with small figures.

"Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto!" announced the Senior Conductor of the Watican Heldelsa Choir, who was standing at the center of the stage. The conductor was a waify, nervous man, whose mustache twitched at the very mention of the Cajjez.

The conductor's wife sat in the VIP box to the far left of the stage, her nails digging into the back of the chair next to her. Maren Nononia, Jeremy's Guest of Honor, screamed.

"Ow! You've got my hair!"

"Sorry, love." The conductor's wife released Maren's wavy, dark blonde tresses. Maren shaded her brow with her hand and squinted at the stage. Jeremy was late, as usual. Maren straightened her loose, pink dress, draping her lap and knees in its bright floral print. Guests were beginning to shift in their seats. Maren had waited for her reunion with Jeremy for almost a year and the butterflies were beginning to whirl around in her stomach.

"Will you excuse me for a second?"asked Vinya Raaychila Chikalto, Jeremy's mother, as she rose from her seat and made her way to the stage.

Maren admired Raaychila, whose looks were sharp and fiery. She had sea-green eyes, a small pointed chin, and long, curly red hair that swirled down her back. She wore a gown of emerald silk and her fingers were bejeweled.

Vor Wantoro Chikalto, who was sitting next to Raaychila's empty seat, motioned to his excitable wife to sit down. He ran his fingers through his thick, raven hair. "Raaychila, darling, you know Jeremy wouldn't miss a chance to be on display."

"CAJJEZ JEREMY CHIKALTO!" yelled the conductor.

Jeremy appeared at the stage door and was met with thunderous applause. He crossed the stage, allowing the spotlight overhead to follow him at a leisurely pace. He waved his purple-gloved hand at the audience. They love me, they love me, they love me. The small, regal Cajjez reached the center of the stage and bowed coyly, his wavy, golden brown hair falling onto his forehead.

The conductor lifted his baton and a hush swept over the audience. Jeremy smiled. "Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to the Annual Watican Awards Opening Ceremony, honoring outstanding achievement in Earth Studies. We thank the Nononias for their continued support in spreading peace and goodwill throughout the Farmoore Galaxy, and for their generous foundation, which makes possible this event."

The audience applauded. Maren Nononia turned and gave an appreciative wave to her parents, who sat in the row behind her.

"And now," continued Jeremy, "'Vordin's Dream,' a Watican hymn dating back to the first years of Farmoore's creation." The conductor set his baton in motion and Jeremy's treble voice was sublime. The audience leaned in, spellbound.

The Cajjez had the most enchanting, warm voice. Like a flock of doves ascending in perfect formation, each vibration wove precisely around the other in a tapestry of sound. The Cajjez sang:

Like storm clouds' onslaught,

You've beaten back the Light.

Lesser souls would have you reconciled,

And urge you to abandon those rebel storms,

And transmit the light like the blue day.

They know not; a jilted lover in you rages

And the wedding guests sway in sad neglect–

The celestial space invites the angel-child

to wonder at an outcast's pleading gaze,

to repeat a history

and bow to an impious might.

Let the cinders fall where they may,

A Kingdom awaits, the balm of vague unrest.

Jeremy stopped singing and stood before his Watican subjects in a daze. He was staring at something in the empty space. He struck at the air, eyes wide. Then he cursed, turned on his heels, leapt off the stage and ran out the Watican Hall doors.

Raaychila rushed to the stage. Words like 'mad,' 'delusional,' and 'bizarre' rose and fell, a wave crashing on the prospects of Jeremy's future.

"Ahem, yes, the lovely voice of Cajjez Jeremy," said the conductor after briefly exchanging whispers with Raaychila. "We... will now have a performance by the Cajjez's choir, the Watican Heldelsa. This next piece, of the same time period, is entitled 'Jetiun'" The conductor raised his baton and cleared his throat.
Chapter 2

Air

Raaychila slipped out the side door of the Concert Hall. Jeremy needed her. She was met in the foyer by Lyrna, Jeremy's pet fizdruft.

"Toffee! I toffee!" drooled Lyrna. Lyrna was a gorgeous feline with petite silver paws, a pink nose, and tufts of black fur on the tips of her ears.

Raaychila folded her arms across her chest. "All right, let's swing by the kitchen."

"Jeremy?" The Vinya knocked quietly on her son's door, bowls of toffee in hand.

"Come in."

Jeremy sat on a pillow beside his bed, his cheeks stained with tears. The window overlooking the Watican Hall was still open, allowing the soft ambience of choir song to spill into the room. "I decided only to sing that one song," said Jeremy, determined to sound in control.

"That's all right. I'm sure you had your own... private reasons."

"I do." Jeremy shot her a nasty look, and Raaychila pushed Lyrna towards him, along with the bowl of toffee.

"I toffee!" Lyrna cuddled up next to Jeremy, her fluffy gray and white tail whipping in anticipation.

Raaychila sighed. "Do you need more medicine? Do you want me to get the doctor?"

"No."

"Jeremy, your father and I thought maybe we could reschedule your choir performance for tomorrow? Possibly before you and Maren's dance?"

"No. I'm done."

Raaychila walked to her son's dresser and lifted up a green silk scarf. "This is nice, I've never seen you wear this."

"Out."

Vinya Raaychila frowned and placed the scarf back on the dresser. "Let me know if you want to talk about anything." She allowed a moment of silence to tempt Jeremy into conversation. After twenty seconds elapsed, the Vinya left her son at his bedside, gently closing the door behind her.

"Why scared?" mewed Lyrna. She tugged at the pillow he held in his arms, hoping to replace it with her own warm, furry body.

"Air again?" She looked up into his face. He winced.

"People think I'm crazy." He began pacing his room, his sandals clicking with each angry step. Jeremy paused and looked up at his whip, coiled above his closet door. "I take it out on innocent people. I am crazy, aren't I?" He bit his lip and braced himself for the verdict.

Lyrna tucked her ears back. "Not."

"Because you've seen the air twitch, right?"

"Yes."

Jeremy sniffled and stared at the air in front of him. If only he could will it to happen, right now, while he was prepared. "Come on air, whatever you are." He breathed in deeply and focused on a spot ten inches from his face. Everything blurred together: the elaborate tapestries, book shelves with tall ladders set on casters leaning against them, and the large window opening to a dusk sky. Jeremy focused on a point. For a second, he thought he felt a zap. Then, nothing. He shook his head, grabbed his pillow, and chucked it at the wall. A picture that his mother painted crashed to the floor, scattering shards of glass across the marble.

"Calm down," mewed Lyrna.

Jeremy slitted his eyes and felt his rage boil. His vision blurred and his mind swarmed and then everything went dark.

On a rocky desert plain, baked by the noontime sun, two armies were gathering. One camp was clad in animal skins and armed with crude spears and slings, faces hidden in wild beards and hair. They were banging their spears on their wooden shields and shouting "Yahweh!" The other camp, smaller in size, gathered in silence except for the clanging of iron. They wore iron helmets, breastplates, greaves, and boots, and carried swords and bows. The front line held out long spears behind iron shields as tall as the men.

The sea of iron parted and Vordin Chikalto, the founder of the Farmoore Galaxy, galloped to the front on a white horse. He wore white chainmail greaves and was naked from the waist up. A hot desert breeze blew back his long brown hair. He was sharp-featured and carried a massive flail.

"Is this it, then?" he shouted. "The blessing of the Lord is a curse on the righteous, and his curse is a blessing for the fool! In his mercy he is cruel, and in his cruelty he is merciful. Since I defied you by showing mercy, am I in your graces for butchering your people? And what does the Lord love more than an offering of flesh?"

Vordin swung his flail, and the iron men began to march forward. The men in animal skins, who had no leader save the One, roared and charged towards the wall of spears. Arrows flew, and the sky was darkened. Right before the contact, there was a cascade of lightening bolts, and the air tore open. Vordin and the iron men were sucked into the rift, and it closed. The people of Yahweh fell to the ground and worshipped the One.

Jeremy came to and sat up from the floor. His brow was covered in sweat. "I blacked out. Lyrna!"

Lyrna ran to him and licked his hand.

"I need fresh air!" Jeremy jumped to his feet. "I need to keep it together." Jeremy ran out into the hallway, slamming his bedroom door closed behind him.
Chapter 3

The Diary

After the Watican Awards Opening Ceremony concluded, Maren excused herself from her parents and walked to Jeremy's wing of the castle. She moved slowly down the hallway towards Jeremy's room, watching her reflection in the polished oak surfaces of the furniture as she passed. No doubt she'd changed since he last saw her. She was taller now and had lost the baby fat in her cheeks. She fancied herself poised, and smiled, but then something shattered somewhere in the castle and she jumped. When she regained her balance, she noticed the family portraits.

Vordin Chikalto. She admired the handsome face in the oil painting, the golden brown hair, the electric blue eyes – just like Jeremy's. Jeremy eerily resembled his esteemed ancestor, Vordin Chikalto, founder of the Farmoore Galaxy. She blushed at the thought that someday Jeremy might share the physique of Vordin Chikalto, the swell of muscles under the short sleeves of his tunic, the broad shoulders. But Jeremy was still boyish, and altogether smaller than herself, though they were the same age. She doubted he'd ever be as exalted as his ancestor before him. Jeremy was far too whimsical, far too... sadistic. Still, it didn't seem fitting that someone with such an angelic voice could be so cruel. At last she came to his door and knocked.

No answer.

Maren nudged the door open. Jeremy wasn't there, but Lyrna greeted her happily.

"Maren!" Lyrna wove herself around Maren's legs and tugged at the skirt of her dress.

Maren scooped her up using proper technique. "Where's Jeremy?"

Lyrna averted her gaze and wriggled in Maren's arms.

"Sorry I asked," said Maren, putting Lyrna down.

Lyrna gave Maren one last mew and scurried back under Jeremy's bed.

Maren then noticed the broken picture frame on the marble floor and wondered what his outburst was about this time. Probably went to find a servant.

Jeremy's room had an impressive collection of books, each bound in sky-blue leather. The tapestry on the wall behind his bed depicted the ancient battle on Earth that resulted in the creation of the Farmoore Galaxy. God's faithful remained on Earth and the rebels were banished to the Farmoore Galaxy. There was a flash, so the story goes, and everyone woke up far, far away. Olg, the planet Maren grew up on, was in the Farmoore Galaxy, as was Jeremy's planet, Watico. Legend taught that it was Vordin Chikalto who led the charge against God's people on Earth, though he later repented and urged his followers to seek God's forgiveness. Maren considered the elaborately embroidered gore surrounding Vordin Chikalto. Such a violent tapestry, how can Jeremy sleep with this next to his bed? Maren had never been to Earth, though the journey was possible with modern technology. She had learned in Earth Studies that it was a twenty-three year round trip journey, and one that was rarely made except by certain ambitious Earth Studies scholars and their families. The Earth observation missions were kept secret because the people from Earth were unaware of the existence of life on other planets and had a habit of destroying or exploiting each other, a practice the Ckikalto dynasty strove to do away with. Maren guessed that Earth probably smelled bad because of an elaborate description she had read somewhere about something called a "swamp."

Maren decided that it wouldn't hurt for her to have a quick look around Jeremy's room. Maybe she'd ask to borrow a book?

Maren glided her finger across the bookshelf and stumbled upon Cajjez Jeremy: Events Log. Maren looked anxiously at the door. Maybe just real quick, she thought to herself, pulling the book down from off the shelf. She sat on the floor and opened the book to the first page, setting it in her lap. Scribbled in near-illegible cursive, were the detailed observations of Jeremy Chikalto:

Day 1: I haven't written about this before. Once, when I was a child, I recall catching a ball and having the distinct impression that the ball disappeared. Only, I was able to produce it again within a matter of seconds. My father hadn't noticed and when I later told my mother, she laughed and gave her blessings to a childhood so ignited by imagination. I came to believe that it was a cute thing.

But it's happened again. Yesterday morning as I was coming out of the foyer, I saw the air tremble before me. I was rushing to my room, excited to try on a new robe, and I literally walked behind the air! There was a bright light and I fell back. When I opened my eyes, I discovered that I had returned to the foyer. The air continued to twitch in front of me and I ran to my room.

Maren squinted and reread the text. Jeremy was always making strange claims. If someone weren't scaling the side of the castle with the intent of breaking into Jeremy's room, it was that his hat was emitting poisonous gasses. He is so odd.

Jeremy opened the door. Maren slammed the diary shut and looked at the Cajjez standing in the door frame.

"What are you doing?" said Jeremy. His voice was cool and centered.

"Oh, well. Hi. I was... just looking through some of your books. I'm sorry, I–"

"I see you've found my diary? Is that of particular interest to you?" He propped the door open with a crystal door-stop before turning to Maren with a faint smile.

"This? I don't know. I was just wondering if I could borrow one of your books." Maren let out a nervous laugh. "I apologize," she offered, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson. "I haven't seen you in a while. You look older," she added hopefully.

Jeremy slipped the diary from Maren's grasp, crossed the marble floor, and sat at his desk, where he laid his head down. Confused, Maren got up and left the Cajjez alone. Maybe she'd get a chance to talk to him later.
Chapter 4

The Earth Studies Achievement Award

The next morning, Jeremy felt well enough to call a servant. A short, plump man tiptoed in, careful not to make eye contact, and bustled around the broken glass and jagged picture frame. After Jeremy had finished his morning tea, he went to his parents' dining quarters to join them for breakfast.

"I've already given my word to Ms. Fritz."

"He needs to be here–Wantoro, quiet!" whispered Jeremy's mother when he opened the door. Jeremy only raised an eyebrow and took a seat, too consumed by his own thoughts to care about the petty trials of ordinary life. After breakfast, there would be more empty festivities. If only they could sense that this world was the tip of the iceberg. What secrets lurked below the surface?

Raaychila excused herself, shaking her head in pathos, as she left the room.

"What's eating her?" Jeremy bit a cherry from off its stem.

"Just anxious about your performance today with Maren."

"Well that's silly." Jeremy flicked the cherry pit across the table. It landed on the floor.

Wantoro dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and stood up, towering over Jeremy. "Call to the servants to get this cleaned." He frowned as he stepped over the cherry pit.

Maren's parents, Mateo and Gillian, waited inside the Watican Hall. The sparkling chandeliers emitted a soft, blue light; an elaborate garden centerpiece housed songbirds serenading from their golden perches. Mateo whistled at the birds but was soon winded. He huffed and puffed merrily before settling back into his seat. Guards lined the perimeter of the Hall, and Mateo pointed excitedly to the starch white uniforms of the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit.

"Look, Gillian! It's the IIU. My father's father's brother was a member, top secret stuff." Mateo shoveled four ginger biscuits into his mouth. Mateo was an impressive figure when measured horizontally. He had married into the Nononia royal family of the planet Olg when he was young and fit, but time and a passion for fine dining eventually weighed him down. "You know," he added, "I bet they're here on a mission. Maybe they've got word of a bomb scare! Remember a couple of years ago when – "

"Mateo, you're acting like a child! Put those cookies away." Gillian, a tall, bony woman with sharp cheek bones and blonde hair, grabbed the package of cookies from Mateo and shoved them in her purse. "Our daughter will be up on that stage in a matter of minutes and I don't think it's appropriate to contemplate a bomb scare."

"I was only kidding. Have a drink." Mateo pointed to the cocktail in Gillian's hand and smiled.

"Mateo, Gillian." A squat woman with a severe bun pulled a chair up to Gillian and Mateo's table. She bowed before taking her seat.

"Ah, Ms. Fritz, one of the few Earth Scholars who've actually been to Earth!"

"The pleasure's all mine. The journey wouldn't have been possible without your family's generous foundation." Ms. Fritz grinned and then helped herself to the ice box on the center of the table, taking an ice cube and generously slathering it onto her head in an attempt to slick the illusionary stray hairs back to her scalp.

"Ms. Fritz, I'm told you might be attending Lejjone Panil?"

"Yes, Ms. Nononia. Wantoro has agreed to send his son Jeremy to boarding school this year and I'm to accompany him."

"Oh?" Gillian set her cocktail down. "So he'll be with Maren. And he's agreed to go?"

"He doesn't know yet, but they'll tell him at breakfast tomorrow. We're going to the races."

The blue light emitting from the chandeliers began to dim just as a hush went over the songbirds. Mateo gave a descending "woooooooooo!" for good measure.

"Oh, look! Here they come!" Gillian raised her hand to her mouth as Maren entered onto the stage, her blonde hair swept into an elegant twist, a single curl at the nape of her neck. She wore a pink silk leotard and matching tu-tu, with intricate lace frill accenting her sleeves. Maren's silver slippers padded across the stage, an 'awe!' from the audience meeting her halfway. Maren rolled her eyes, a feat in and of itself given the amount of eyeshadow burying her eyelids. The audience applauded as she leapt.

Jeremy entered right in a gold leotard, speckled with silver clocks on the sleeves, legs, and torso. He smiled his most angelic smile, his bright white teeth glistening, and kicked up his legs to a crescendo championed by the orchestra pit. After he nailed the landing, he twirled tantalizingly close to Maren. The audience gasped and applauded.

When the performance concluded, the conductor gestured towards Maren and Jeremy. "Thank you, Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto and Maren Nononia, for that remarkable performance of The Battle of Bhan Mountain." The audience erupted. "And now it is with great honor that I introduce Vinya Raaychila Chikalto."

Raaychila entered onto the stage and bowed, thanking the conductor as she took the microphone. "On behalf of the board of the Nononia Earth Studies Foundation I welcome all of you, and I thank you for extending a heartfelt Watican welcome to our special guests.

"Two-hundred years ago," continued Raaychila, "the Earth Studies Achievement Award was inaugurated to keep faith with the idea that the people of our galaxy, though separated from Earth, could still achieve spiritual enlightenment alongside our Earthen brethren through the pursuit of knowledge and mercy of God.

"The nominees for this year's Earth Studies Achievement Award: Lilith Pendoza, Senior Technical Analyst of the Watican Guard, who succeeded in deciphering an Earthen global satellite system code; Gorda Fritz, Earth Studies Scholar and leader of the Milky Way Geological Research Group, whose work around volcanism and deep seismic-reflection data expanded our current understanding of Earth's surface; and Peter Nebolt, Professor of Religious Studies at Bester University, for his work on the Qumran Scrolls and analysis of archeological data on the site of discovery." Raaychila took a deep breath and peered over the audience. "And the Earth Studies Achievement Award goes to... Ms. Gorda Fritz, Earth Studies Scholar and leader of the Milky Way Geological Research Team."

Gorda Fritz slathered another ice cube onto her head before rising from her seat.

The audience applauded as she made her way to the stage. "Thank you," said Ms. Fritz, taking the microphone and holding the award up over her head. "It is with a profound sense of humility that I accept this award. The journey to and from Earth is a long, trying journey, twenty-three years round trip. Not many before myself have chosen to make it. It's a sacrifice, and one must learn to let go of her ties to the Farmoore Galaxy. I was fortunate to travel with my parents, both scientists before me, and I think that they are truly the ones who deserve this award, God rest their souls. Earth is a planet of rich volcanic activity. In the Farmoore Galaxy, not one of our planets has ever had a single volcanic eruption, and I tell you, it is an awesome force of nature." Ms. Fritz's eyes glazed over as with tears. "The Mantel, especially, is a beautiful and highly viscous layer."
Chapter 5

A Visit From Beyond

After Ms. Fritz had finished her speech and Raaychila made her closing remarks, Jeremy walked off the stage in a fit of laughter. "The Mantel, especially, is a beautiful and highly viscous layer!" he cried out between laughs. Maren watched as the heavy gold-plated doors swung behind him. Very rude.

Maren and Gillian returned to their table. Maren took a seat and squirreled through her father's dessert plate for a pastry puff.

"So what do you think of Jeremy since you last saw him?" said Mateo between bites.

"Oh," Maren blushed and set down her pastry.

"Do you think he's handsome?" pressed Gillian.

"Mother!"

"Well of course he is," said Gillian. "Mateo, do you think they would make a good match? I've been torn about this for years now."

"Hah!" was all Mateo managed to say.

"Years?" Maren frowned.

"Oh honey, don't be naive. You're destined to marry someone powerful. Of course Jeremy's behavior is a bit disturbing. And he's so arrogant. I just don't know anymore. You should keep him company and tell me what he's like."

Maren only shrugged. "Well I'm going to bed."

Jeremy leaned over his bed and clicked off his bedside lamp. The light dimmed until the room was pitch black. He pulled the covers tighter around him. "Did you see Maren? She's cute. I wish I had more time to talk to her. She's leaving tomorrow and we've barely said a word to each other."

Lyrna settled at the foot of his bed, her long ear tufts bobbing up and down as she groomed herself. She grunted.

"She'll be at the races tomorrow, so maybe– "

Something fell off of Jeremy's dresser and crashed to the floor. Lyrna hissed and slinked out of the room through her door flap.

"Lyrna, don't go!" Jeremy sighed and fluffed his pillow. He stared up at the high vaulted ceilings, recalling in his mind's eye Maren's open-backed dress, the way it draped her figure in pink silk, her lustrous blonde hair piled on top of her head, her pouty lips...

CRACK.

Jeremy's heart jumped and he sat up in bed. Moonlight filtered in through his windows, casting strange shadows on his walls. The room was buzzing as though every object was vibrating subtly together.

CRACK.

"Lyrna?" But Jeremy knew it wasn't Lyrna. The air began to twitch.

"Jer –" A deep, hollow voice briefly penetrated the air.

"Hello?" Jeremy's voice trailed off.

CRACK.

It was the loudest crack yet. Jeremy felt a tug at his insides. He sensed that if he wanted to, he could leave his room entirely and go behind the air.

"Jeremy Chikalto," said the voice.

Jeremy's heart was pounding hard. He faced the source of the voice. There, in the center of the room, floated an airy mass. It was faintly human. Its long face would materialize every few seconds, revealing shades of purple, and pieces of hair floating in and out of space and undulating like Medusa's snakes.

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, but found that he could not.

"Jeremy Chikalto," said the voice. "The Kingdom is at hand. The end is near."

Jeremy gazed into the black of the creature's eyes. "What... what are you?"

"I AM THAT I AM sent me." The messenger disappeared. Jeremy kicked the covers off of his legs and moved closer to the source of the voice. He could feel his night clothes move with a sort of magnetic tide, in and out with static. The messenger reappeared in front of him and he stumbled back, almost falling over a foot stool.

"...sevenfold." The messenger fizzled slightly. "Leave... and travel through the Haze." The messenger disappeared.

CRACK.

Jeremy held his breath and waved his hand over the area where the presence had been. Nothing. The breeze made his curtain dance and he ran to the window. Jeremy looked up at the night sky and felt a sense of urgency overtake him. Was it a dream? Some part of him always knew he'd receive a visitor from beyond.
Chapter 6

Lejjone Panil

The morning following the Awards Ceremony bought about a flurry of motion. The Nononias and Ms. Fritz were to accompany the Chikaltos to the race track. Mateo, Gillian, Wantoro, and Ms. Fritz were already seated in their jeep. Escort vehicles waited patiently on either side. "Where is Jeremy?" demanded Wantoro.

"I'll find him. You go on ahead." Raaychila excused her frazzled husband and paced back and forth on the patio. Lyrna appeared. "Did you find him yet?"

"Mew."

"I'm excited to see Diamond in the Rough run." Maren poked her head through the doorway.

"Hello." Jeremy appeared on the patio. He dragged his nails across the wall as he walked. A sliver of gold foil fell to the floor.

"Jeremy, I wish you wouldn't do that." Raaychila pushed past Maren and looked down at her son. "Where were you? You weren't in your room."

"I went for a walk."

"You should have been getting ready. Everyone's already gone to the race track. Jeremy. Jeremy!"

Jeremy fell forward into his mother's arms and started to laugh.

"Jeremy?" Maren had approached from behind Raaychila.

Raaychila turned. "Maren, why don't you wait in the jeep." She turned back to face her son. "Jeremy, do you need to skip the race?"

"No. I'll be fine." Jeremy walked over to the jeep and sat down next to Maren. His face was void of expression and he stared dully forward.

Wantoro, Gillian, Mateo, and Ms. Fritz were all seated in a skybox overlooking the large race track. The inside of the track was lined with a manicured hedge, and in the center was a fountain with a massive overflowing cup, inside of which was a sculpture of Vordin Chikalto on his steed, charging forward, flail spinning. Breakfast was served. Orange and purple flower petals were scattered on the plates and napkins. Gillian frowned as she extracted an orange petal from her morning cocktail.

"Here come the horses! Oh, I mean..." Mateo pointed at Maren, Raaychila, and Jeremy, the dimples in his red apple cheeks pulsating as he heaved with laughter and slapped his knee.

"Jeremy, your looking so lively this morning," Vor Wantoro deadpanned as his son appeared.

"Yes, let's just proceed." Raaychila forced a smile as she took her seat. She shuffled though her purse and set a small pile of pills beside Jeremy's water glass.

A gun fired and the horses took off. Mateo let out a squeal. "Our bet's on Diamond in the Rough, right Maren?"

Maren smiled. The horses rounded the first bend.

"I don't need these, Mother." Jeremy pushed the pills away from him. The announcer blared "Clean and Crazy moves into the lead."

Wantoro lifted his glass. "Congratulations to Ms. Gorda Fritz for her award. I know we've talked in private about–"

"Boarding school, yes," interrupted Ms. Fritz. "And I will be honored to oversee his studies."

"Wantoro, you know how I feel about this!" Raaychila rose from her seat and tossed her long, red hair over her shoulder.

"Stable Queen is a close second."

Ms. Fritz lifted an eyebrow.

"Raaychila dear, relax." Wantoro squared his shoulders and looked at Ms. Fritz, a tangle of frizz slowly rising from her head. "I've changed my mind. Jeremy will not be attending Lejjone Panil this year. Next year, perhaps."

Celeste was now in the lead, and she raced past the booth. Maren shifted uncomfortably, her attentions divided.

Raaychila gave Wantoro an appreciative pat on the shoulder. "Excellent news, right Jeremy?

Wantoro turned to Jeremy, who seemed unresponsive. "Jeremy, sorry to have kept you in the dark about this. Jeremy. Jeremy!"

"Jeremy," whispered Maren timidly.

"Earth to Watico is bringing up the rear."

"Maybe we should just leave him alone, he's not feeling well," said Raaychila.

"Is that the polite way of saying I'm crazy?" Jeremy's eyes flashed and he slipped back into his revelry. The end is near. Travel to the Haze. Jeremy pulled the nearest plate of pancakes across the table, brushing the plate across Wantoro's fingertips, and began heaping generous portions onto his plate.

"There goes our horse!" Mateo said weakly.

"I think I need to share something," blurted Jeremy.

Ms. Fritz leaned forward across the table. "Forgive me, Vor Wantoro, if I speak out of place, but I dare say you are making a huge mistake. I'm sorry to say, but word of your son attending the school has already been leaked to the press. Your son needs to be seen interacting with peers his own age."

"Our Little Secret is coming out in the open here."

Vor Wantoro reclined in his seat and smirked. "That's a very bold statement to make, Ms. Fritz."

"Giddyup!" Mateo let out a nervous laugh. "I think that what Ms. Fritz is saying is that–"

"I think Ms. Fritz can speak for herself, dear." Gillian looked down at her lap and adjusted her napkin.

Ms. Fritz lifted her chin and continued. "Sending Jeremy to this boarding school is admitting that Jeremy isn't special. Let him appear in the public eye as a regular child. It will look like a step towards equality. The monarchy is being contested and Jeremy desperately needs to reshape his public image!"

"Excuse me?" Jeremy stood up and threw Maren's plate to the floor. It shattered by Maren's feet. "A regular child? I am a prophet!"

"Clean and Crazy far in front now!"

"Jeremy, sit down!" said Wantoro.

"I was told the end is near!"

"Who told you this?"

"Raaychila, don't give into it," said Wantoro sternly.

"I was visited by an angel!"

"Clean and Crazy is galloping to the finish line!"

Wantoro stood up and pulled his son by the arm, dragging him across the booth. Maren rose from her seat and stood warily behind her parents.

Ms. Fritz called after Wantoro, "Send your son to Lejjone Panil! I will help him to adjust; he'll have the support of his peers!"

The Cajjez bucked and contorted madly as his father pulled him down the stairs and back out to a jeep. His father crammed him into the back seat. Jeremy yelled, "An angel visited me last night! An angel!" The jeep took off, escort vehicles on either side.

"And out of nowhere comes Big Bad Daddy, to win it by a nose!"

Jeremy's father had him sequestered on the third floor. Guards were posted at the exits. Jeremy paced the length of the hallway. He'd acted recklessly. People have to know! I'm not crazy, I know what I saw and what I felt. Jeremy placed his hand on his sternum. The air had been twitching because an angel wanted to communicate with him. Still, Jeremy had to admit that the angel's message was cryptic. "The end is near," he said under his breath. "I sound like a doomsday nut living in a cave."

Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Someone had turned the corner and was heading down the hallway.

"Jeremy," said Ms. Fritz, her arm outstretched in preparation for a handshake. It seemed unnecessary to initiate a handshake from such a distance.

"What do you want?" Jeremy rubbed his temples, deciding it best to occupy his hands and so avoid the pending handshake altogether.

"My apologies. I'm Gorda Fritz, Earth Scholar and newly appointed Galactic Minister of Education. I am to accompany you to Lejjone Panil." Ms. Fritz now stood in front of the Cajjez, her hand awkwardly extended. Jeremy turned his back on her.

"You know," he began "I really did see an angel."

"I know," said Ms. Fritz.

Jeremy spun around, almost losing his balance. "How do you know?"

"I know because I've been contacted by an angel myself. You must come with me." Ms. Fritz slicked her hair down with her stocky hand. She adjusted her glasses and leaned forward.

Jeremy eyed her suspiciously. "Why you?"

"Because my purpose is to guide you. To... introduce you to a powerful friend of mine. I need to see you off this planet. You must come with me to Lejjone Panil."

Jeremy looked up at the white marble ceiling. His eyes traced the swirls of gray and the effect was that of tempestuous clouds, as though a storm were gathering overhead. The angel had mentioned that he should leave and travel to the Haze. "Ms. Fritz," said Jeremy. "I believe you. I will attend Lejjone Panil this year."
Chapter 7

The Journey Begins

All of Jeremy's most prized possessions lay stacked before the elevator doorway. Castle staff carried heaps to the Nononias' spaceship parked on the castle's landing strip. It was midday and galanbirds flitted high above the trees, sending shadows through the large windows of the west wing. Raaychila followed Jeremy into his room.

"And you'll make friends! Just don't tell them about the angel. You can write to me about the angel."

"Don't encourage him!" said Wantoro from outside the bedroom. He was standing in front of the elevator and staring with disdain at the growing pile of books, clothing trunks, and Lyrna gear.

Raaychila surveyed Jeremy's bedroom. "Did you pack your medicine? You have to take it three times a day."

"Yep," Jeremy lied.

"If you experience something while you're away that frightens you, anything, I want to be the first person you tell. We're in this together. It'll be an inside joke! I'll send you cookies shaped as angels."

"Really Mother!" Jeremy shook his head.

Raaychila wrung her dress in her hands. "I only meant that, if you make something funny, it has no power over you, so you won't be frightened."

"Gee, thanks." Jeremy emptied his arms of cosmetics – lotions, powders, scented oils.

Wantoro observed the pile's contents. "No, no. Don't bring any of that stuff. When you're out of this castle, you're to seem... less frilly."

"Oh, Wantoro, you can't expect him to make the transition cold! He's used to being pampered." Raaychila wrapped her arms around Jeremy and kissed the top of his head. She caught a whiff of lavender. "Okay, maybe you should leave the scented oils behind." She grabbed the lavender and put it in her purse.

"It's calming, you might need it." Jeremy laughed and grabbed at a pile of jewelry.

"I really think it would be best if you focus on making some friends at school," continued Raaychila. "Try to make yourself a little more approachable. I'm not saying don't be yourself, it's just that, er..."

Jeremy waved her off. "Sure, sure."

Jeremy boarded the spaceship with Maren after hugging his parents goodbye. The school Lejjone Panil was close to the planet Olg and so he would travel with the Nononias. Ms. Fritz also boarded the spaceship. She promised Wantoro and Raaychila that she'd keep an eye on Jeremy and help him with his studies. A top-rate therapist's services, she lied, would also be enlisted.

The interior of the spaceship was plush. A regal pattern of emerald on soft gold decorated the walls. Jeremy sat in the corner and rested his head on a yellow needlepoint pillow. Lyrna meowed from her carrier, a silver crate adorned with precious stones.

Ms. Fritz crossed the length of the room and took her seat next to Lyrna's cage. She tapped it with her walking stick and Lyrna growled.

"She's a sentient being so don't tap her carrier like she's some rodent." Jeremy leaned back on the sofa and crossed his arms. Ms. Fritz might be an ally, but he still regarded her as subordinate. "Ms. Fritz," said Jeremy. "Release Lyrna from her cage."

"Absolutely not. It's unsanitary–we're about to eat."

Lyrna growled. "Bad lady."

"Watch how you talk about my fizdruft, Gorda." Jeremy walked to Lyrna's cage and released her. As he was about to take his seat, Ms. Fritz hobbled up from behind him and grabbed Lyrna by the scruff of the neck. Maren gasped.

It was too late. Lyrna twisted her body around and bared her teeth, each roughly the size of Ms. Fritz's thumb. She sank her claws into Ms. Fritz's neck and Ms. Fritz screamed, throwing Lyrna to the floor. Blood splattered onto the carpet and Lyrna ran under Jeremy's sofa.

"You're lucky," said Jeremy sharply.

Mateo, Maren, and two spaceship personnel ran to look for medical supplies while Jeremy picked Lyrna up by the ear tuft, scooped up her bottom, and trotted to the kitchen.

When Ms. Fritz's wounds were bandaged and the carpets and upholstery cleaned, Maren excused herself to find Jeremy.

The lights were dim. The kitchen was notably silent, too, the cooks and wait staff having snuck back to their quarters to gossip. Maren approached the back of a wide, cushioned chair and saw the slight bobbing of golden brown, wavy hair. She moved cautiously towards him, anticipating the end of yet another failed exchange.

"Hello Maren," he said, calm, centered. Maren approached his side. His hand reached across the glass countertop, tugging on bits of fruit, nuts, and cheese. Lyrna stood beside the plate, nibbling at a separate, smaller pile.

"Hi." Maren tucked her hair behind her ears. "I can't believe Ms. Fritz did that. Doesn't she know about fizdrufts?"

"I guess not. Some scholar, eh? Have a seat." Jeremy gestured. Startled, Maren looked around her. There was no additional seating at that end of the counter.

"On the... floor?" Her pulse quickened. Lyrna looked up from her snack.

"No? Well, I would hope not. Sit here, with me." Jeremy slid to the right, allowing just enough space for Maren to squeeze beside him.

It appeared Jeremy was inviting her to be his confidant. Maren's curiosity about his diary had reached new heights after his alleged angel sighting and she was eager to hear more, even if it were the ramblings of a disturbed prince. She couldn't help but blush.

Jeremy looked up at Maren. "Sit."

Maren squeezed onto the chair. It was roomier than expected.

"I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk," said Jeremy, his eyes wandering over her body.

"Oh, it's okay." Maren trembled under his gaze. She regretted sitting so close to him. "I can tell you about Lejjone Panil, if you'd like?" She looked at her lap.

"Maren, you've gotten so much taller."

"I know, I feel like my body's kind of awkward. You wouldn't believe how clumsy I've gotten."

"I believe it. I did see you dance."

Maren's cheeks reddened. "Was I that bad?"

"Not as good as me, I'm afraid, but who is?" Jeremy smiled and lowered a cluster of grapes into his mouth.

So smug, thought Maren. This always happens, I get pulled in and rediscover he's a jerk. Maren tried to focus on his unattractive qualities. He's shorter then me. He's mean. "Jeremy, is it true that you abuse your servants?" she asked, suddenly emboldened. "I mean, I can't imagine you doing that, but it's been reported in the news so many times, I was wondering how you feel about the accusations." She bit her lip.

Jeremy set the stem of grapes on the table. "Oh," he said, frowning. "Servant abuse charges, right. Well I'll be honest with you." He turned to her and Maren had to move her head to prevent them from brushing lips. "I have a whip in my bedroom closet. I use it sometimes for discipline purposes."

"No!" said Maren in mock horror.

"I do. I use it on female servants, I think they like it."

"You're disgusting." Maren rose from the seat but Jeremy pulled her back down. "Ah, now you come out. Hello, Maren. Cautious, prude Maren."

"So you lied."

"I told the truth." Jeremy pressed her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "But I'd never whip you. You could whip me, if you like."

"Don't," said Maren.

He softly kissed her hand and released it.

She stared at him, mouth agape.

Jeremy steadied his index finger and gave Maren a pronounced flick on the forehead. She started backwards, pressing against the arm of the chair.

"Oh, what a charmer!" Maren struggled to get out of the chair. She pushed up with her legs and grabbed at the counter, but Jeremy held her down.

"Don't go, I need you!"

Lyrna puffed and hissed. Maren screamed.

"Relax, relax! I was only playing!" Jeremy laughed.

Maren sprang up, strands of hair sticking to her mouth.

"Bad," said Lyrna. "Bad play."

"So what about the angel act?" demanded Maren.

"It's no act. I did see an angel, and it spoke to me." Jeremy's face lost the glow of laughter and a dark mood spread over his features. "It said the end is near, sevenfold, and that I have to travel to the Haze."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know." Jeremy and Maren locked eyes. Lyrna mewed sadly and jumped to the floor. She tugged at Jeremy's pant leg.

"Tired," said Lyrna, her ears back. "Tired, want sleep."

"Okay." Jeremy got up. "Come on, Lyrna. Goodnight Maren." Jeremy hesitated. "Look, I'm sorry I'm kind of weird. We're still friends, right?"

"Of course, Jeremy."

Jeremy left the kitchen with Lyrna at his heels.
Chapter 8

Ms. Fritz's Plan

Six days passed on the spaceship, and already it seemed Mateo gained a couple of pounds in meats, cakes, and fine cheeses, and Gillian's stock of cocktail umbrellas had all but disappeared. Jeremy had taken over the reading room of the spaceship, and while the spaceship was technically the Nononia's, Jeremy's antisocial behavior so scared Gillian that she preferred to let him have his way, insisting that his reformation take place entirely at Panil Lejjone.

Ms. Fritz meandered across the spaceship's central gardens. It was quiet. Her heel slipped through a crack in the cobblestone walkway. She paused, fussing for a moment over her ankle, and then continued her walk towards the sleek black fence posts that squared off the perimeter. Wafts of lemon grass and rasputis flower tickled her nose. She sneezed. Ms. Fritz veered off the cobblestone walkway and sat at a bench. She bent forward and slipped her shoes off, her free hand massaging flat arches; the other hand felt at the bandage around her neck. Today was the day.

Hurrying back to Gillian and Mateo's living quarters, Ms. Fritz nearly toppled the tea table. "Hello, sorry!" she panted as she stabilized the teetering cups. "It struck me as absurd that Jeremy and I should have our little standoff. He's haughty and ill-tempered but I should have known about the dangers of improperly handling a fizdruft. I was thinking we should stop today at one of Failrun's moons to refuel. We'd have to refuel soon anyway, right? And also I was thinking of treating Cajjez Jeremy to a meal at Bexin's Restaurant on Findle. Excellent cuisine." Ms. Fritz's hands trembled as she placed them behind her back.

Gillian exchanged glances with Mateo, who grumbled and busied himself with his eggs. Gillian took a sip from her tea cup and examined Gorda Fritz. Ms. Fritz still wore her curling cap and her head kept wobbling back and forth. "Coffee, Ms. Fritz?" said Gillian, more as a comment on Gorda's frazzled state than as a genuine offer. Ms. Fritz quickly accepted, wanting nothing more than to appear regular. Gillian lifted her eyebrows and called a member of the waitstaff to revive Ms. Fritz with fresh coffee.

Ms. Fritz pressed her case. "So shall I tell Jeremy? It's been weighing on me these past couple of days, it would be best I do this today. Really." She sipped at her coffee to fill the dead air.

Gillian frowned. "We don't have a pressing need to stop. Our supplies are more than enough. Take this up with Jeremy."

Jeremy sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of the spaceship's reading room, his hands resting on his lap. A flame flickered before him, dancing atop a gold candle set in a silver dish. Jeremy concentrated on his breath, opening one eye and then the other, alternating with the fluctuations of the candle's heat. The wall paper in front of him peeled at the top corner. Foreground. Background. Eye open. Switch. It was one way of exploring the place behind the air. Jeremy found that he could will the air to tremble. Once or twice, he dared to put his hand behind it. The door creaked open.

"Hello Jeremy," said Ms. Fritz.

Jeremy's body shook, his two worlds fused. "I was meditating. I dislike interruptions." Jeremy swished his hand in dismissal. He closed his eyes, intent on beginning the process over again.

"Cajjez, I am sorry about our–"

"Really! Do you not see that I'm meditating!" Jeremy leaned forward and extinguished the flame with one breath. "There. Now everything's cold!" Jeremy went on at great length about heat escaping his body, the cold of the place, how she had brought the cold, or else she had brought him back to the cold, and so on. Ms. Fritz hadn't the slightest clue what he was talking about, but continued, resolute.

"Cajjez, do you know what they call Earth's interior?"

"I have no intention of becoming an Earth Studies scholar."

"Most of Earth's mass is in the mantel."

"Fascinating." Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Mantel. Jeremy, have you ever thought that maybe there could be a third entity vying for power over the souls of man? God, Satan, and then –"

"What exactly do you want?"

Ms. Fritz adjusted her glasses and moved towards Jeremy. The room was small and Jeremy immediately felt violated. He turned to her, but was put off by her appearance. It was not her distressed demeanor, but rather her plastic, pink cap that distracted the Cajjez.

"Is that a shower cap? What is that on your head?" This new detail quickly consumed him, the shallow trance dissipating.

"Oh! I'm just setting my curls. Never mind it. Anyway, we had a most unfortunate encounter earlier." Ms. Fritz pointed to the bandage on her neck. "I want to start over again. I've arranged–"

Jeremy jumped to his feet. "How long does it take? Ms. Nononia should have a kelkin that you could borrow – it's an instant curl-setter – don't they have that where we're going? I haven't brought mine!" Jeremy was walking in circles now. "I refuse, REFUSE to show myself around Lejjone Panil wearing such a hat! It's hideous and cheap looking. Do they have caps in different fabrics? Could I get one patterned? Nothing tacky, of course. Maybe I'll have mine fitted so it doesn't... poof out so much." Jeremy looked at Ms. Fritz's head and cringed. He weighed things delicately over in his mind, nudging the silver candle dish over with his toe. At last, he said, "Fine. I'll just do without."

Ms. Fritz felt self-conscious. Her shoulders hunched forward and she was warped back to elementary school. To her left sat Kendra Dondi, the most popular girl in school. Kendra was giggling incessantly, crying out, "Gorda Fritz is a dog! Gorda Fritz is an ugly, frizzy-haired dog!" The other students laughed. Petan Smitt, Gorda's elementary school crush, shot a spitball. It landed splat in Gorda's hair.

Jeremy was staring at Ms. Fritz. "I said on with it! What was so important?"

"Oh, oh, yes!" Ms. Fritz's sagging posture snapped back into its rigid position. "Jeremy, Cajjez, I would like to treat you to a meal on one of Failrun's moons. We're stopping to refuel. To be honest, I feel awful about what happened and want to make amends."

"Don't ever insult my fizdruft again."

"Yes, of course. So how about it? A meal on Findle?"

Jeremy glared. "I'll go if Maren and Lyrna can come along."

Ms. Fritz's mouth was set in a grim line. There could be no witnesses. But if she let up now, she'd never get him far enough away. "Y...es. Yes, all right. I'll treat them too." Gorda nervously scratched at the wound on her neck and a small spot of blood bled through her bandage.

The spaceship touched ground on Findle, the largest of Failrun's three moons. It took a great deal of effort on Ms. Fritz's part to parry Gillian Nononia's request that guards accompany the party to and from the restaurant.

"Not necessary," said Ms. Fritz. "There's been no crime on Findle of any kind in over one-hundred years. I believe our party to be sufficient. We'll be okay, and it'll only be a short while."

Jeremy nudged Maren, who looked to her mother for further intervention.

"Hmm?" said Gillian, unconvinced. She slurped the last of her cranberry vodka cocktail through a red straw. "You're kidding, I presume? Of course the children cannot venture out onto this planet without proper supervision. I'll assemble the guards and you'll leave at once. I want to get back on course sooner rather than later."

Gorda knew she must stall for only a short while longer. She looked out the window at the tall trees swaying in the wind. Already the faint outline of a small moon was discernible in the sky. "Well," she replied, "you're right, of course. But why don't you and Mateo go on outside and relax. I'll assemble the guards for our expedition. Really, I see your point. Excellent point. You go outside and I'll round up the guards." She flinched and drummed her fingers on the window pane.

"Very well," Gillian said at last.

Gillian stepped outside the spaceship's front doors. A slight chill had taken up residence on the small moon. "Mateo, isn't this just charming? Look how dark the sky is growing in the west. It's beautiful." Mateo, who sat in one of the many docking bay pavilions beside the spaceship, only grunted.

A small, white spaceship landed in the lot beside the Nononia's. It was a soft landing and warranted only a nod from Gillian, who was still enthralled with the darkening sky. Mateo, however, was a little more interested. He jumped to his feet.

"Gillian! Do you see that? It's an Intergalactic Intelligence Craft! Wonder what it's doing here. I saw some members of the IIU back on Watico, but didn't have a chance to talk." Mateo immediately entered his own spaceship, where he assembled some of his finest attendants, and then went next door for an official greeting.

Two gentlemen and a stately lady descended from the craft's ramp. All of them wore large sunglasses, despite the encroaching darkness. Mateo attributed this to custom, although he couldn't distinctly remember this being the habit of dress. Still, their uniforms followed expectation – a crisp, white jumpsuit, with a fine red trim along the lapel and cuffs. On the breast pocket was embroidered a thick, red flame, housed in a black circle–the symbol of the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit. The lady stepped forward upon seeing Mateo and bowed.

"Mateo Nononia, sir, what an honor to encounter your esteemed family," she said. "And over there, is that not the great Gillian Nononia?"

"Yes, yes. Please join us for some refreshments," said Mateo, gesturing to his wife.

After taking their seats across from Gillian and Mateo in the pavilion, the officers introduced themselves as Special Unit 64. The woman said her name was Jasmine Diggs. She had soft features, radiant brown skin, and wore her hair in a braided bun atop her head. The taller of the two gentlemen, a burly albino man with an aloof posture, introduced himself as Drew Meltivor. Then the man whom Gillian and Mateo had recognized from the Watican Awards Ceremony leaned forward and shook their hands. "I'm Bentley Stinger, Intergalactic Intelligence High General," he said in a low, tense voice. Bentley's black hair and facial features were sharp and sculpted and his brow was arched menacingly low. Below his brow were two slivers for eyes.

"Yes," said Mateo, curiously scanning Bentley's face. "I recognize you from back on Watico."

Gillian kicked her husband's foot. He had spoken the truth, but Gillian felt he said it with a little too much punch. Bentley Stinger was a very peculiar looking man.

"We'll have a drink, but then we must be going," said Bentley abruptly. "We're here on business, and some things cannot wait, even at your ladyship's request." Bentley made a low bow to Gillian.

"We're heading to the Consternium Mall, just a routine patrolling."

Ms. Fritz burst through the spaceship door. "Wait!"

Startled, Gillian turned towards Ms. Fritz. "What is it, Ms. Fritz?"

Ms. Fritz leaned against the spaceship's landing gear, catching her breath. "We're heading to the Consternium Mall too. Would you be willing to accompany myself, the Cajjez and Maren?"

Gillian's cheeks flushed. "No, that's not necessary, we have our own guards Ms. Fritz."

"Of course," said Bentley quickly.

"But you have your official business–"

Bentley's eyes narrowed beneath his brow. "As I said, we're just doing some light patrolling. We'll gladly accompany the Cajjez, Maren, and Ms. Fritz to their destination and back."
Chapter 9

The Haze

Jeremy carried Lyrna in his arms. The soft purple sky cast an eerie light on Findle's docking bay. Findle was a forest moon, and the docking bay was located in the center of a large abstern tree forest. Large, knobby trees twisted around each other, the black bark startling behind the green, slimy moss.

"Come along then. This way." Ms. Fritz led them along a forest path, their feet crunching the dry abstern mulch. The Intergalactic Intelligence Unit followed close behind. Bright fluorescent signs displayed ads on either side of the path:

"Jan's Petite Wear, mile marker 57!"

"Consternium Mall, mile marker 59!"

"Freeway Ground Transport, next right!"

Jeremy stroked Lyrna while she batted at a loose curl on his forehead. "I've never been to Findle. What language do they speak here?"

"Banstorm, mainly. But some people are fluent in English, too," said Maren.

"Banstorm." Jeremy considered this for a moment and decided that it might offer some much needed amusement.

"Let's stop at the mall and practice conversation. We'll take the freeway up ahead." He had studied Banstorm up to the first year intermediate level, and though not fluent, Jeremy was certain his ability would surpass Maren's and comfort him with a sense of superiority. Being away from Watico unsettled him.

Maren was eager to agree on something. If the two were to spend a great deal of time together, they had better attempt to relate. "Okay, I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind if we're gone a little longer than expected.

Ms. Fritz dropped back and walked beside the children. "No need! No need! We're not going there."

"But I thought I heard my mom mention Bexin's Restaurant. Isn't that...?" Maren exchanged a puzzled look with the Cajjez.

"Yes, well, no. See. Here." Ms. Fritz ushered the three members of the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit forward. "I wanted to go to a place that was close to the Consternium Mall, but not actually at it, if you understand me."

A branch pricked Jeremy's shoulder and he paused to rub it. "Fine by me," he said.

Ms. Fritz pointed ahead and began walking at a faster pace. Her large, muscular legs rubbed together, the fabric chaffing her thighs.

"So where exactly are we going, Ms. Fritz?" said Jeremy.

But Ms. Fritz only waddled faster up the path. At last she paused, and looked to her left. A lonely, narrow forest path rose sharply into the brambles.

"This way!" said Ms. Fritz as she hurried up the path.

"Lyrna want toffee," said Lyrna.

Jeremy slowed and walked alongside Maren. Ms. Fritz's control of the party irked him and so he determined to counter her haste with his leisure. "I ate a small breakfast and have been working up my appetite so this better be good. I'm open-minded, you know, so if this is some local eatery with traditional Findle cooking methods, I won't protest."

Maren smiled, glad to be of use in trying Ms. Fritz's patience with idle chit chat. "Findalian cooking is very unique. All the seasoning is done with local herbs. Let's stop and collect some." Maren and Jeremy stooped to grab a handful of herbs from the path.

"Hurry along!" said Ms. Fritz, before disappearing behind a shrub.

While Jeremy and Maren pretended to be interested in herbs, Ms. Fritz up ahead began to clear her throat over and over again. The sound was so annoying that they gave up and started walking again.

At last, Ms. Fritz came to an abrupt halt. Nearly forty minutes had passed since they left the spaceship. Sixi, one of the other Failrun moons, was passing by the sun and so a great shadow began to spread overhead. Wind swept through the knotty trees and a dead, gnarled branch landed beside Jeremy's foot. He jumped back, alarmed. "Ms. Fritz, where have you taken us? Why has it gone dark?"

Maren seized an opportunity to lecture Jeremy. "Jeremy, lunar eclipses happen often on Findle. It should only last a couple of minutes. All of Failrun's moons are relatively small compared to Watico's moon or even Olg's, and one will usually block out the sun. And because we're on a moon, you know, sometimes the planet Failrun even blocks out the sun and you can imagine how long the darkness lasts then! Findle is tiny compared to Failrun." But Jeremy's attention was on Ms. Fritz, who was slumped against a tree with a strange expression on her face. Maren froze as she, too, took in Ms. Fritz's alarming countenance.

"Jeremy, you're not meant to go to Lejjone Panil," said Ms. Fritz.

Maren blinked. Jeremy was smiling. Why was he smiling?

"Go on," said the Cajjez.

"An angel wants to speak with you."

"Lyrna scared." Lyrna pried herself from Jeremy's grasp and leapt onto Maren's chest.

"Jeremy, the angel is behind the air and it tells me that you must go to it now. You'll hear it call to you once you're on the other side. Follow the call." Ms. Fritz's face was sallow. Perspiration collected in drops on her cheeks and forehead.

"I don't know how–"

"Yes! Yes you do! The angel tells me that you do know how!" Ms. Fritz looked at Jeremy and then at Maren. She scanned the forest for the IIU in vain. The darkness from the eclipse made it impossible to see anything beyond ten feet.

"I've never... I don't know," said Jeremy.

"That's impossible. Of course you know!" Ms. Fritz shook her head in frustration. Another dead, twisted branch landed between Jeremy and Maren. The wind picked up.

"I suppose..."

"Yes?" said Ms. Fritz.

Maren was growing faint. Still cradling Lyrna, she groped behind her for a tree. "Jeremy?"

Jeremy ignored Maren and took a step forward. "I suppose I've almost crossed over before, but never completely. I get," he hesitated, "frightened. My chest –"

"Jeremy, what are you talking about?"

"This doesn't concern you, Miss Nononia!" said Ms. Fritz. She motioned for Jeremy to come closer. Jeremy took a step in her direction. Ms. Fritz smiled as she pulled a dark purple orb from her pocket. Holding it to eye level, she whispered, "Mantel, letum libero everto."

Jeremy's heart was racing.

"You have to go behind the air to the Haze. Cajjez, try to listen to the voices," said Ms. Fritz.

"The Haze?" Jeremy's eyes widened. It had all happened so soon. "Can I come back? What is the Haze?"

Maren patted down Lyrna's puffed fur and shivered. "Jeremy? I want to get out of here. I'm going to... go back to the ship now."

"No you're not, Maren! You stay right there!" Ms. Fritz glared at Maren and massaged the small orb, which was now emitting a high frequency hissing sound. "Jeremy, tell her to stay!"

"Stay Maren!" yelled Jeremy. "It's okay. You'll see." His voice wavered as he turned to face Maren and Lyrna. He was surprised to find them almost indistinguishable from the trees.

"Cajjez Jeremy. Listen to me. I don't want you to get distracted by your friends."

"But they know about the angel already. Right Maren?"

"I don't know, I just... Jeremy, I want to go home!" yelled Maren.

"Jeremy! Everyone will be all right, but in order for this very important thing to work..." Gorda Fritz stomped her foot three times on the ground. Her voice strained. "For this to work, I must have order!"

The shrubs behind Ms. Fritz began to sway. Twigs snapped.

"Maren Nononia," said Bentley, emerging behind Ms. Fritz.

"Yes?" Maren's eyes searched the darkness. She had forgotten about the IIU.

"Gorda, what should we do about Maren? This wasn't part of the plan."

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Ms. Fritz.

"Someone detain her. Get her to calm down." Ms. Fritz held the orb to eye level. "Mantel, letum libero everto!"

Jeremy was beginning to lose faith in this grand scheme he knew nothing about. Why had Ms. Fritz lied to him about the restaurant? What did the angel want with him? Was it so important that he cross over right at this moment? He hardly felt ready. Jeremy glanced at Maren and Lyrna. Two figures now stood behind them, the taller, albino man placing a hand on Maren's shoulder.

"Just relax," said Drew.

Maren trembled under the weight of the foreign hand.

"Cajjez Jeremy," said Ms. Fritz, "you must cross over. You're the only one who can travel through the Haze. Never mind about your friends, we'll take good care of them for you. Seek out Mantel! He will tell you what to do next. Remember that."

Jeremy kept his eyes on Maren and Lyrna, both of whom were shaking. He could see them clearer now against the white uniforms of the IIU. He tried to concentrate on the subtle vibrations that were beginning to well up in his sternum. "I can feel the sensation. I think I can do this."

"Ms. Fritz?" said the tall albino man, his hand resting on his holster, "Just give the order."

"Wait!" yelled Bentley, but it was too late. Jeremy saw the gun.

"Ms. Fritz! Why?" Jeremy instinctively moved towards Maren and Lyrna.

"It's nothing Jeremy, you know how policemen touch their weapons out of habit." Ms. Fritz flung the black orb onto the ground. The high pitched frequency increased in volume, the sound reverberating off the wall of trees. She rushed past Jeremy towards Maren, Lyrna, and the IIU.

"Gun?" It was all Maren could say, her body paralyzed with fear.

"Maren! Lyrna!" Jeremy reached out to his friends, and as he touched them the vibrations in his chest increased tenfold. His breath seemed to give way to a scream–only, the scream didn't belong to him. There was a jolt.

Everything flashed white and then purple. Jeremy blacked out for a moment and when he came to, he found that his arms wrapped around Maren's waist. Bentley also held Maren, only he had her in a stranglehold, his right arm wound tightly around her neck. Lyrna hissed and dug her claws and teeth into Bentley's arm. Bentley, shocked, released Maren.

The other two IIU members rushed forward to restrain Lyrna. Ms. Fritz also grasped at the entangled children and fizdruft, attempting to wrestle Maren from Jeremy, pulling at her bony shoulders. The air around Jeremy began to twitch. When Ms. Fritz felt static emitting from Jeremy, she pulled back and yelled, "Let them all go!" Bentley and the others withdrew. "Let them go to Mantel!"

Jeremy, his arms around Maren and Lyrna, felt a sharp tug on his sternum, and exhaled as Gorda Fritz and the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit blinked out of view.

Jeremy opened his eyes to another place. He was now behind the air entirely and was floating up through a tunnel. Maren and Lyrna's eyes were closed, and their bodies were limp, but they didn't feel heavy. Jeremy carried them with ease as though he were swimming. At the far end of the tunnel, Jeremy could make out a bright light. Aside from the bright light, the place was a dim shade of purple. It was hazy. The tunnel pulsated with static and a magnetic force centered Jeremy in his ascent. He moved in awe towards the bright light. Have I died? Jeremy turned away from the light and felt the sting of tears on his eyes and cheeks.

There was a scream. Then a hollow voice called out "Jeremy..."

"It's an angel! Maren, it's an angel!" Jeremy stopped floating up towards the light and shook Maren. He wanted her to see, to believe him. Both Maren and Lyrna were asleep. Maren's face was fast losing its color, her breathing seemed labored.

"Jer... Come this way!" said a female voice, taking the place of the first.

***

Bloody heads littered the forest floor of the mountain. Twenty cloaked disciples assembled in a tight circle around an executioner, who pushed a headless corpse, still convulsing, to the ground as another disciple stepped forward. Her body was thrown on a stone slab, chin cracking on the rock. "For Mantel. Mantel, letum libero everto!" Her hood was removed. The executioner raised his ax. "Mantel says to call to him now. Gorda Fritz has sent the signal. Jeremy Chikalto has entered the Haze."

***

Jeremy pulled Maren and Lyrna from the tunnel and into the purple Haze. His body met some resistance from the force that kept him centered in the tunnel, but the real challenge came from pulling Maren and Lyrna through. Their bodies resisted the boundaries of the tunnel and fought to continue traveling up towards the bright light. Jeremy had to yank with all his might to get them through to the other side.

"Jeremy... Mantel, letum libero everto!" said another voice.

The further he floated from the tunnel, the thicker the purple Haze became. A flash of red light brought Jeremy to a halt. A scream punctured the Haze and a bloody corpse appeared before him, accompanied by two black bears. Jeremy, startled, pushed back. He turned to look at the tunnel, and saw more animals and corpses floating in the Haze.

"Why are there..." Jeremy shielded his brow and squinted. The Haze seemed to go on indefinitely and every now and then a new creature would materialize, as though it had popped out of a fold in space.

"Jeremy Chikalto! Come. Mantel is here!" Now it was a man's voice. It sounded desperate.

He had to focus. He had to follow the voices. Jeremy felt for Maren's pulse. It was slow. Lyrna's nose twitched. Just asleep, Jeremy reassured himself, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Jeremy." Jeremy continued swimming towards the voice. Who was Mantel? Why did the voice keep changing? All the voices that called his name were coming from the same direction.

A crowd of massacred bodies floated past him, shrouded in a pink mist. A fizdruft, very much like Lyrna in stature but with a black and orange coat, glided through the air, pulling a single thread attached to the body of a middle-aged man. The man was rocking back and forth, repeating, "Samantha, I'm sorry Samantha!" Blood spilled from a bullet wound in his head. The fizdruft and man disappeared behind a dark purple cloud.

Now shades of gray swirled past him. The tunnel that Jeremy had originally entered was no longer in sight. He was very close to the source of the voices. "Jeremy. Almost..." Jeremy could see the young woman who now spoke his name. Her head was almost completely severed from her body, hanging by a mere flap of skin. She pointed towards the rip in the fabric of Haze where she had recently entered. "Exit there! It's marked with a tear!" she yelled in one breath. An animal Jeremy had never seen before, a tiger-like creature with huge fangs, grabbed hold of a thread that extended from her sternum, and pulled the woman past him. Even with her head nearly severed, Jeremy could see a wide smile spread across her face, her pupils enlarged and menacing. "For Mantel!" she whispered before disappearing out of sight.

Jeremy floated towards the rip and pressed his body against it, pushing Lyrna through to the other side. He held Maren loosely in his other arm. Jeremy turned around for one final glimpse of the Haze and saw an elk racing towards him. At the last second, the elk turned and Jeremy saw a disemboweled man. "Help me, please!" the man cried, and as he passed, he grabbed Maren by the arm. The elk dragged the man away by the chord connected to his sternum, and Maren was ripped from Jeremy's arms. The man, the elk, and Maren disappeared into dark purple rays of light. "Maren!" he cried, and he swam after her, but he couldn't match the galloping elk. As Jeremy swam, the purple turned to a shade of crimson red. A boar crossed in front of him, butting the head of a scaly, horned demon that had emerged through a fold in space. Its claws grappled with the boar's tusks. A flame soon engulfed the demon, burning it to ashes. The boar trotted away. Maren was gone.

Jeremy looked around the Haze. In the distance, he could see the outline of a lion. It was running towards him, snarling. Jeremy kicked backwards towards the rip and pushed himself out and onto a patch of grass. His body rattled with each breath and tingled from head to toe. He rolled over, coughing. Lyrna lay curled up at his side in an uneasy sleep. Blood covered the grass and pooled on a large, flat stone tablet. Drag marks led into the trees.
Chapter 10

Kidnapped

Gillian and Mateo sat in the docking bay pavilion, waiting for the return of Maren, Jeremy, and Lyrna. The eclipse had ended and light streamed down through the large, knobby trees. The wind had also settled into a light breeze. Gillian let down her blonde hair and clipped her barrette to the side of her dress.

"Do you think Maren likes Jeremy?"

"I doubt it, she's too sensible. But boy, he looks at her like she's a piece of meat." Mateo patted his belly. "I hope they bring leftovers."

"And I do absolutely adore Raaychila and Wantoro, it's a shame Jeremy isn't more like them."

"He's like his mother," said Mateo.

"He most certainly is not!"

"The dancing, the singing, both are a bit wacky, you've said so yourself."

"Raaychila is charming and sweet, that makes a world of a difference."

Mateo laughed and stood up, stretching his arms overhead. "Hey look, I think that's them." He frowned. Gillian stood beside her husband and squinted, shading her brow with her hand.

The IIU and Ms. Fritz emerged from the forest path just beyond the stretch of pavilions. They walked briskly to the Nononia's spaceship.

Gillian and Mateo ran forward. Bentley raised his hand.

"Please, stay where you are," said Bentley. The other IIU members took their place beside him while Ms. Fritz shuffled behind.

"What's happened? Where's Maren and Jeremy? Where's Lyrna?" Gillian's eyes darted back and forth. Mateo remained silent.

Bentley brought his hand down. "Gillian, Mateo, I'm afraid someone has kidnapped your daughter and the Cajjez. We've called in a full IIU search team and they'll be arriving shortly. All space travel patrols have been notified. Please remain in your craft until further notification."
Chapter 11

The Long Lost Son

Jeremy parted a thick swarm of flies with his hand. He shook Lyrna. Her small body rose and fell with each tiny breath. "Lyrna! Lyrna, wake up!" A gun shot fired.

Lyrna opened her eyes wide. She puffed, hissed, and jerked her body left and right, leapt into the air, turned around and finally dashed into the shrubs.

Jeremy stood up, his heart pounding. "Maren's gone, Lyrna. Maren's gone." He examined the flat stone slab, covered in blood. His stomach turned. "Whoever did this must have ran off when they heard the gunshots. We have to get out of here." Jeremy crept to the shrubs. "Come on, Lyrna! Let's go!"

"Lyrna bad dream!"

"It wasn't a dream. We went behind the air. We have to go now."

Lyrna poked her head out from under the leaves, parting the shrubs with her whiskers. "Blood ground. Where Maren? Fritz?"

Jeremy backed away and set out in the direction opposite the drag marks. Lyrna scurried after him.

The air was warm and the sun was high in the sky. Birds circled overhead, squawking. Jeremy peered up at the tree tops, the foliage thicker and greener than anything he'd ever seen before.

"Where?" asked Lyrna.

"I don't know. We're certainly not on Findle anymore."

"Lyrna hate black orb."

Jeremy and Lyrna arrived at a mattress propped up against a thick tree stump. The ground was littered with beer cans. Jeremy sat against the tree stump. He picked up a beer can and analyzed the label. "Busch Light, never heard of it. Where do you think we are?" Lyrna jumped onto the mattress, eager to get settled and to groom her fur. Jeremy dropped the beer can and quickly grabbed Lyrna by the ear tuft, pulling her off the mattress. "Don't go on that!"

Lyrna grunted and settled beside him on the grass and watched the crows as they circled and swooped. Suddenly overwhelmed, the Cajjez buried his head in his hands, raking his hair with his fingertips as he sobbed. Where was Maren? Had he made a mistake following the voices? The being he saw in the Haze, the one with the severed head–she was not an angel, she was a dead woman. "I just don't understand, Lyrna."

"Maren come soon," said Lyrna hopefully.

"No, I don't think so."

A gunshot scattered the birds. Jeremy and Lyrna jumped. The source was close. A large, sandy-colored dog ran past, splattering drool across Jeremy's cheek. Jeremy wiped it with his sleeve in disgust, leaving a streak of blood, tears, dirt, and spit.

"Well, now looky here!" A big, ruddy face pocked with acne appeared inches away from Jeremy's own. Jeremy gasped and pressed his back against the stump.

"And a kitty cat, too!"

"Are we on Findle? Is English your first language?" asked Jeremy in one breath.

"English! What do you mean English, boy? Let's get 'er up." The man gripped Jeremy's forearm and lifted him to his feet. Examining him, "Now what have you been up to in my neck of the woods? Boozin'?" The man slapped Jeremy on the back with his leathery hand and let out a guffaw. Jeremy stumbled forward.

"But have you seen a girl? She has blonde hair and gray eyes; she's a little taller than me?"

"Nope."

"Stinky man beast!" mewed Lyrna.

"What'd you say, boy?" The man straightened his back and stared down at Jeremy.

"A girl–"

"No, after that!"

Jeremy grimaced and turned his head. The man's breath was a mix of onions, cigarettes and whiskey. "I didn't say anything."

"What? You didn't say nothin'? I heard you!"

"Lyrna said your breath stinks, but I agree."

The man spat on the ground and then looked at Lyrna. She hissed and hid behind Jeremy's leg. "Funny," said the man. "You're real funny. You tellin' me you got a talkin' cat?"

"Fizdruft. She's a fizdruft."

"Mmhm, let's take you back to my place and get you warshed up, and you can tell me all 'bout your fuzzrat and that blood you got on your face. Then we'll get you back to your folks." The man knelt to the ground and grabbed an unopened beer can. Popping the tab, he guzzled it down and then tossed the can onto the mattress. "Name's Bill, by the way. Hey! Chester!" Bill whistled and hollered and soon the large canine bounded back to its owner. "All right, this way then."

Chester gave Lyrna two disinterested sniffs before leading the party back to Bill's house.

It was a fifteen minute walk to Bill's house. A trail led the way through tall trees and across makeshift bridges. River beds with fresh mud suggested recent rain. Jeremy wondered if it rained here often. He had a feeling it did, or at least the humidity kept things moist. Beads of dew clung to a spider web. Jeremy counted twenty webs on his way to Bill's house. Bill's house itself was a humble dwelling and boasted what appeared to be an outside dining room: a water-worn picnic table and chairs sat on a slab of weathered cement; ash spilled forth from a wood-burning stove. The house was small but sturdy looking. Faded blue paint played along the exterior, interrupted only by exposed wood and concrete.

"You live here?" asked Jeremy.

"And I'll probably die here. My great grandpa built this place with his own two hands. Family-owned mountain, yep." The man belched and called out to his wife. "Henrietta! Hey Hen! Come on out and take a look at what I've scrounged up!" Bill winked at Jeremy and whistled a folksy melody. The door creaked open and out poked the head of a boy who looked a couple of years older than Jeremy.

"Who's that?" said the boy.

"Forgot to ask, would you believe it, Jason! Go get your ma. Your ma will set things right."

Before Jeremy could offer his name, the boy's head disappeared back into the house. The boy shouted, "Hey, Ma! Pa's brought a boy home!" and within a few seconds, the boy reemerged, followed by his mother. Henrietta was a round, solid woman – large, but proportional. Her cheeks were flushed apples and her thin gray hair clung to her forehead. She appeared to be sweating, probably from cooking. A white apron decorated with frolicking kittens revealed that she'd made a mess of spaghetti sauce.

"Hello there! What a fine, handsome young man!" began Henrietta. She looked Jeremy up and down, her smile broadening with each passing second. "Handsome, yessir!"

Bill laughed. "Don't expect much out of him, we walked 'bout a mile and he ain't said a peep. In his own world, this one."

Jason pushed past his father and stood directly in front of the Cajjez. "Probably 'cause you didn't ask him his name! Hey, so what's your name?"

Jeremy brushed his hair off his forehead. "Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto." The Cajjez took a step back, feeling his personal space to be compromised.

Jason squinted and batted a fly away from his brow. "Cajjez what? Jeremy?"

"Cajjez is my title. You don't recognize me?"

Henrietta stepped forward and untied her apron. "So, what brings you around these parts? Bill, what's the story?" She kept her eyes on Jeremy. Despite being covered in mud and blood, he was such a delightful sight, it was hard to look away.

"Found him 'bout a mile or so away in the woods. Got blood on his face."

"Is he lost? Jeremy, what were you doing out in those woods?" There was concern in her voice.

Jeremy shielded his eyes from the sunlight. He'd have to think on his feet. "I don't know." Failure.

"Where you from?"

"Watico." Jeremy pet Charlie, the golden retriever, who had begun to lick his hand.

"Where on Earth is Watico?"

"So I'm on Earth?" Jeremy's eyes widened. "Earth, wow!"

"Oh dear," said Henrietta. "And where are your parents?"

Jeremy felt a lump collecting in the back of his throat. "They're far, far away, I guess."

"Bill, we'd better get him inside and cleaned up for supper. We'll sort this out." Henrietta disappeared back inside the small house.

By the time Jeremy cleaned himself with a warm, wet dish rag, the Truitt family were convinced that he was no ordinary boy. His beauty and exquisite posture marked him with distinction. Electricity seemed to spark all around him. Lyrna too, though originally ignored, was beginning to take on an extraordinary quality. She was rather large for a cat, and looked more like a wild desert cat than any domesticated cat the Truitt family had ever seen. Furthermore, Lyrna's gray ears with black tufts at the end had the most peculiar habit of twitching whenever anyone looked her way.

Dinner was pasta with spaghetti sauce. Henrietta pressured Jeremy into drinking goat's milk, a sight that delighted the entire family. Jeremy spit it all over the floor. Dessert was donuts. Lots and lots of donuts. Jeremy was familiar with donuts and gladly indulged.

"So where is Watico?" continued Henrietta between gulps of goat's milk.

Her son Jason glared. "Never heard of no Watico and I go to public school now."

Jeremy decided to play dumb. If it was true that people from Earth didn't know about Watico, then at least the Earth Scholars' observation missions on Earth hadn't been compromised. Earth really was isolated. "I don't know. I can't remember much. I think I hit my head," he lied.

"But Ma, I saw when he was cleanin' himself that he weren't bleedin' from the head. He only got it on his hands and a streak across his face." Jason's brows knitted together.

"Shush! The boy's got the amnesia." Henrietta stood up from her seat and began clearing the plates away.

Bill leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes following his wife. "You know, I thought he was actin' funny! He told me his cat was sayin' somethin' 'bout me, and I thought, boy, maybe he had a drink too many. Found him surrounded by beer cans!"

Henrietta shook her head. "No, no. This boy ain't drunk. I'd a known if he were, have enough experience with you. That's the devil in those drinks, you know, tempting you away from the Lord. We ain't wantin' any more of the devil's influence in this house. I'd a recognized." Henrietta scrubbed the plates with extra vigor before setting them in the dish rack.

Jeremy pet Lyrna, who had settled on his lap. She looked up at him and was about to speak. Jeremy interrupted. "No! No, Lyrna."

"What is it?" said Henrietta, looking up from the dishes.

"Lyrna scratched me was all."

Lyrna hissed.

Jason eyed Jeremy and Lyrna with suspicion from across the table. "That's a big cat you got there, a strange lookin' cat. It's an exotic animal, I can tell." Jason smiled, pleased with himself for using the word "exotic," and crossed his arms.

Jeremy ignored him. "So," continued Jeremy, "where am I on Earth exactly?"

"Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania." This time it was Bill who spoke, though he continued to feign an interest in the comics section of the newspaper.

"And now where did you say your parents were?" Henrietta abandoned the pile of dishes in the sink and stood beside Jeremy. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I..." Jeremy looked at his lap. "What I mean is, I don't have any parents."

"Oh heavens! No parents! Do you remember your parents? Bill, did you hear this? Bill!" Henrietta marched over to Bill and tore the newspaper out from his hands.

"No. I don't remember much of anything, except for I know I'm an orphan."

This time, Lyrna did scratch Jeremy. Jeremy winced in pain.

Henrietta gripped the table and began rocking back and forth.

Bill stiffened in his seat. "Oh no, Henrietta!" said Bill.

Henrietta's rocking only intensified. "Oh Lord, oh Lord. I've got a feelin', Bill. I've got a feelin'."

"Henrietta, let's go you and me talk 'bout this out back."

"I've got a feelin', Bill. Oh Lord. Oh Lord. See the Lord's mercy, Jason? Do you not recognize the Lord's infinite mercy?" At this, Henrietta burst into tears. Bill escorted her out of the kitchen, leaving Jeremy and Lyrna utterly perplexed. Jason averted his eyes from them and leaned in for another helping of donuts. Jeremy pet Lyrna. After making eye contact with his fizdruft, he mouthed, "Please don't talk."

That night, Jeremy was put up in Jason's bedroom, a small room with low ceilings and faded yellow wallpaper. A tree outside scratched against the side of the house. Jason, obviously used to the menacing sound, slept soundly on the hardwood floor. Jeremy shivered. He did not wish to stay at the Truitt's for long, but recognized the need to gather as much information about Pennsylvania as possible. He knew enough about Earth to get by – the different countries, continents, religions. But he wasn't able to recall Pennsylvania. Should I inquire about Mantel? Ms. Fritz had instructed him to seek out Mantel. But then... Ms. Fritz had almost killed Maren. And the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit – what to make of them? And Maren! Would he ever see her again? Jeremy's head pounded the more he thought about his day, the purple Haze, and his separation from Maren. Nothing made sense, but everything had to make sense. After all, Jeremy thought, an angel visited me. I was marked by a divine messenger. It was his responsibility to sort things out. Jeremy waited for a sign that night, watching the air for some hint of movement, but nothing happened.

But then, something did happen. Something unexpected. It was nearing three in the morning and the wind howled outside. Jeremy had only just closed his eyes when a creaking outside the bedroom door awoke him. He gripped the pillow he had been using – an off-white, flimsy thing with several mysterious stains and the smell of sweat and mold – and turned towards the door. His pulse quickened as the door knob opened. And then it all happened so fast: Jeremy was seized and then smothered, as an intense force gripped his body. There was shaking, sobbing, and finally, a release. Jeremy blinked.

"Jeffrey! It's my Jeffrey come home!" Henrietta's face was red and swollen. Bill stood in the doorway behind her, a trace of skepticism in his eyes.

"What?" said Jeremy.

Jason sat up on the floor and rubbed his eyes, "What're you sayin'? Ma, it's the middle of the night!"

"Don't you see? It's your brother Jeffrey come home at last! This boy is your brother Jeffrey!"

"Jeffrey, can't be–impossible," said Jason. He turned to Jeremy. "Jeffrey, is that you?"

Jeremy looked around him. The wind continued to howl outside the house. He pushed the pillow away from his head and stood up, irritated. "Listen. I'm not Jeffrey. I am Jeremy." Jeremy sighed. Perhaps, he thought, he'd be better off orienting himself elsewhere. "Thank you for the hospitality and I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but I must be going. Come on Lyrna."

Lyrna, ears back, stood up, stretched, and readied herself at Jeremy's heels.

"You aren't going nowhere, Jeffrey." Henrietta steadied herself in the door frame and cautioned Jeremy to stay put with a thrust of her arms. The moonlight filtered in through the window and gave a bluish tint to her skin. "The Lord spoke to me tonight, and he said, 'Henrietta, this is your charge. You were a bad, bad mother once. Redeem yourself. See that you don't loose him again. See that he don't go wanderin' around in the woods, so cold, so scared, Momma's little baby. Henrietta!' he said, 'The Lord works in mysterious ways!' and I heard him! And I know, Jeffrey, that things are gonna be all right now!" Henrietta puckered her lips. Her face, still swollen from tears, pursed. She held her breath.

Jeremy shivered. Maybe the Lord had spoken with her? No, ridiculous. But then again, only a week ago an angel spoke with me. And then I was in the Haze. Anything's possible. He crossed his arms and gazed intently at the room's inhabitants. At last, he concluded, "It would have been an angel, not the Lord directly. Do you mean to say it was an angel who spoke with you?"

Henrietta's eyes shone wildly. "Lord! Thank you, Lord!" She rushed forward to hug Jeremy once more.

Bill and Jason's mouths hung open, this new piece of knowledge seemingly confirmed by the strange, beautiful boy. They began to rejoice and rushed forward to hug some piece of Jeremy not contained entirely within Henrietta's grasp.

Lyrna, alarmed and puffed, sidestepped the emotional orgy, unsure of whether to attack or wait for it to end. "Lyrna say bad, bad."
Chapter 12

Maren Awakes

Maren awoke in the back of an ambulance. She blinked. Had she died? A mask was lowered over her face and her eyes widened in fright. She struggled and pulled on her restraints. "Where am I? What's happening?!"

"Relax. You need more oxygen, just keep breathing," said the paramedic, securing the mask to her face. The driver called from the front of the vehicle.

"How's she doing back there?"

"Her skin's got some color back."

"Great news. They're doing construction along the front of the NYU Medical Center, so we'll have to take her through the back."

Maren mumbled through the oxygen mask and twisted her head. The ambulance worker lifted the mask. "Yeah?"

"Where am I?" she repeated between breaths.

"New York."

"New York? What's New York?"

The paramedic lowered the mask over her face. "Hey Sam, she's not doing as good as I thought."
Chapter 13

The Call

Jeremy's mother played the piano. It was mahogany with ivory keys and sat on a raised platform in the far right corner of the room. Velvet green curtains parted by gold clasps allowed light from outside to shine on Raaychilla's lustrous hair. Wantoro tapped his fingers and noted how each song his wife played grew increasingly vehement.

At last a messenger entered the chambers with news that the Nononias had been reached. Wantoro nodded and waited for Raaychila to conclude her song.

The walk to the Communications Center was silent. Raaychila was nervous about Jeremy. Wantoro was nervous about Jeremy's reputation. Only a week had passed since Jeremy departed for Lejjone Panil, and already they were receiving a call from his caretakers. Both Wantoro and Raaychila had missed the call, but it was classified as urgent.

Six guards stood at the entrance to the Communications Center, a vast control room which monitored flight traffic, weather, and planet conditions. Offices, divided by white screens, lined the back walls. Wantoro and Raaychila were led to one of these offices and seated in front of a large monitor. The Communications Director initiated video conferencing.

Three individuals appeared on the screen, each wearing a crisp white jumpsuit, a red flame etched on the breast. Raaychila tensed.

"Intergalactic Intelligence Unit, Special Force 64, reporting," said Bentley, his thick, black brow casting a shadow over his face. He bowed.

Wantoro frowned as his eyes met Raaychila's. He had expected to talk directly to the Nononias. "We received a call earlier from the Nononias and I understand you have information for us concerning Cajjez Jeremy."

"We do sir," said Bentley. "He and Maren Nononia have been kidnapped."
Chapter 14

Out the Window

Meanwhile in Pennsylvania, Jeremy spent the next few days trying to stomach the unsolicited affections of Henrietta Truitt. He was able to piece together that she had irresponsibly left her four year old son Jeffrey in a pasture on the south side of the mountain, about a mile away from the Truitt residence, in order to prepare dinner. "You were always makin' a fuss back then, hollerin' and pullin' your hair out," she had said. Jeffrey's older brother, Jason, was seven at the time and was helping Bill build a tree stand for hunting deer. When Henrietta returned to the pasture on the south side of the mountain to retrieve Jeffrey, he was nowhere to be found. Police were contacted and neighbors helped with the search, but the boy was never recovered. Henrietta had prayed daily for the return of her son.

And he would be her son, at least for a short while, until he received another sign from the angel. Jeremy believed that an angel had spoken with Henrietta, and that if he just stuck around long enough, his purpose would be made clear. Jeremy continued to sleep in Jason's bed, and was offered all the best pieces of meat at dinner. He cringed at the meager offerings, growing increasingly intolerant of the family's modest means.

Jason scowled. Henrietta wanted nothing more than to sit beside her long lost son and gaze at him, and so doubled Jason's chores. It was immediately apparent that Jeremy surpassed Jason in beauty, elegance, and intelligence, which was beyond anything the Truitt's had ever encountered. And he was more physically fit. Jason, though five inches taller, felt small compared to the Cajjez.

The school bus let Jason off at his stop and he began the mile and a half trek up the mountain to his family's residence. His friend Adam accompanied him, and together they walked along the trail through the woods.

"So Jeffrey's a weirdo then?" Adam laughed and spit on the ground.

"A freak, yeah. But he's a fast one, tried to get him to play tag football with me and my old man, and he outrun us every time! Never played before neither. Just a natural, I guess." Jason shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"And so your mom's gonna home school him?"

"Yep, I think so. She wants to tell him 'bout the Bible, but he keeps correctin' her. Like, he says she got it all wrong. And then he adds stuff that ain't even in there!"

"Even I know not to mess with your mom." Adam ducked under a tree branch that hung over the trail.

"I know! But he don't know not to cross her yet. It's weird though 'cause he knows Bible verses by heart and goes and tells my ma she got it wrong! She's so patient with him, I don't get it. I can't wait for her to turn on him, though." Jason spat on the ground and swatted at a fly that circled his head.

"You don't mean that. He's only just come home."

"Yeah, well wait 'till you see this kid." Jason smiled. The clearing to his house was straight ahead. "Come on then. Watch, my ma's gonna come out and swear at me then kiss you."

And sure enough, as the two young men approached the house, out ran Henrietta, brows furrowed. "Dang it, Jason! Dang it! I'll have to make more soup. Hello Adam! Nice to see you!" Henrietta swooped in on Adam, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

Adam glanced at Jason. "Hello Mrs. Truitt! Jason's been telling me so much about Jeffrey, I can't wait to see him. My folks wanna come down and see him this weekend, too, if that's all right."

"Of course! My Jeffrey's a real light, a beacon of the Lord Jesus himself. Tell your parents they can come along back to our place after Church on Sunday. I'll fix us a nice brunch."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Truitt."

Henrietta led the way into the house and Jason and Adam followed. They had to navigate their way around piles of dirty laundry and chewed-up dog toys. "Jeffrey!" hollered Henrietta. Nothing. "Jason, why don't you go and fetch your brother, he's probably hidin' in your room with that cat of his."

Jason and Adam entered Jason's bedroom and found Jeremy sitting cross-legged on the center of the floor. He had moved Jason's makeshift bed to the side, pushing it against Jason's meager comic book collection. Jeremy was meditating.

"Um, what're you doin'?" said Jason, sneaking a smile to Adam. Adam stifled a laugh, already amused at the contrast between the two supposed brothers.

Jeremy took his time responding, allowing for the trance to dissolve slowly. "I'm glad you should ask, Jason. I was meditating. I'm getting better at it. For example, in as little as four minutes, I begin to vibrate. And recently I've discovered that after only five minutes of meditation, I can temporarily exit this world." Jeremy rubbed his temples. "The exit – or you can think of it as my entry into the Haze – requires a certain sensitivity to the forces beyond. And I'm more sensitive to these forces when I meditate." Jeremy stood up and stretched. "But really I can sense the forces all the time. I'm gifted." Jeremy yawned and stretched his arms. "When will that angel give me another sign, this is getting ridiculous."

Jason smiled and shook his head. "Crazy talk. Ma hears you goin' on like this, she'll see the devil in you." Jason turned to Adam. "See what I mean? He's just plain weird."

Adam flinched.

"Don't worry 'bout him hearing you," continued Jason. "He talks right past me all the time. He knows I got no idea what he's talkin' 'bout and he still goes on and on."

Adam stepped over a comic book stack to get closer to Jeremy. "So, Jeffrey? Where'd you go all them years anyway? I helped look for you with my parents way back when, when you first disappeared."

Jason made his way towards the door, calling behind him, "Oh don't bother, he ain't gonna give you a straight answer."

Jeremy examined Adam. A plump young man, about 5'8 with curly black hair, Jeremy could discern a keener intelligence in his features than in Jason's. Though Adam's poor posture was cringe worthy, Jeremy made an effort to smile. The effect was immediate.

Adam went dumb.

"Come on, Adam. Let's go!" said Jason. He slumped his body irritably against the door frame.

"Adam, is it?" said Jeremy. "Well Adam, I wish I could answer your question, but it seems Jason has you on a short leash. But I can give you a summary of my current thoughts. I've been many places before now, but never here. Only I think I'm supposed to lie and pretend that I've been here before. So my question to you is, why would an angel want me to lie? I can't figure it out." Jeremy smiled. He turned his back to the two young men and resumed sitting cross-legged on the floor. Lyrna yawned and settled on his lap.

Adam blinked.

"Come on, Adam!" said Jason.

Adam took a few steps back, knocking over a pile of comic books, before turning around and following Jason out the door.

Henrietta dragged an extra chair inside the kitchen from the outside deck to make room for Adam. She rang the dinner bell and within seconds, Bill, Jason, and Adam assembled around the table. Jeremy, as usual, was late.

"Ma, he brought his cat again to supper!" said Jason, jabbing a finger in the air towards Lyrna as Jeremy entered the room. Lyrna produced a deep-throated growl.

"Lyrna stays," said Jeremy as he pulled out his seat at the head of the table.

"Ma," continued Jason, "it's been over a week. When's Pa gonna get back his seat as head of the family?"

Bill interrupted, "It's all right, Jason." He glanced at Henrietta. "Jeffrey's still gettin' settled in is all."

Jeremy snorted. Henrietta only smiled and spooned a generous helping of soup into Jeremy's bowl.

"Let's begin, shall we?" said Henrietta after she had served the others and seated herself. The family all held hands, aside from Jeremy, and bowed their heads in prayer. Henrietta waited until everyone was still before continuing. "Dear Lord, thank you once again for bringin' my family together and blessing us with the return of Jeffrey. We are insignificant. We are not worthy of your good graces, and still you show us mercy. I should've been hanged for what I done to my boy, leaving him in that pasture. I should have been burned and beaten. I should have been made to suffer, vultures peckin' at my remains. A corpse. But instead you've given me a second chance, instead you–"

"Air!" shouted Lyrna and she jumped off Jeremy's lap and leapt through the kitchen window. Jeremy stood up.

"Now what?" said Bill, looking towards Jeremy.

Henrietta shrieked, "We do not interrupt prayer! Bill! Close your eyes! Jeffrey, be seated."

"But Ma!" said Jason, also rising from the table. "Didn't you hear that cat talk just now?"

"I heard it say 'Air'!" Adam chimed in.

Henrietta remained seated and closed her eyes tightly, wrinkles straining along the corners. She gripped the table, her knuckles turning white. "Boys, we do NOT interrupt prayer. Everyone, sit!"

"But Ma!"

"Jason, you've gone and made the Lord angry!"

"But Ma! It's Jeffrey!"

Henrietta opened her eyes in time to see Jeremy exit through the kitchen door.
Chapter 15

Lightening

Lyrna's whiskers twitched as she raced towards the source of the disturbance. She sensed a dark presence. A trail behind the house led gently downhill and Lyrna followed it to its base where a small clearing opened up, a scarecrow at its center. Lyrna halted before creeping towards the scarecrow. The scarecrow was moldy and covered in bird droppings, its left arm drooping to the ground, straw spilling out onto the earth. A red smile was stitched across its face, leering at Lyrna. Lyrna tensed and took a step closer. Just beside the scarecrow bubbled a small sulfur pool. Its putrid smell curled Lyrna's whiskers and she sneezed.

"Lyrna!" called Jeremy, just behind the house at the top of the trail.

"Hot pool! Stinky bad, bad!" mewed Lyrna.

Jeremy ran down the trail and saw smoke rising from the hot spring in front of Lyrna. "What is it? Lyrna don't get too close to it." Jeremy caught a whiff of sulfur and turned his face away. "What happened?"

"Ground open. Bad!"

"Well, did you see anything? Behind the air, I mean?" Jeremy knelt in front of the hot spring and examined the bubbling water, shielding his nose with his shirt sleeve.

"No. Just bad," said Lyrna.

"What do you mean? You think it's a sign?"

Lyrna hissed. "Bad!" She hopped from paw to paw.

Jeremy scratched his head and then held his hand over the hot spring. A bubble on the surface of the pool burst and sprayed a few drops of hot liquid onto his hand. Jeremy winced and pulled back.

"Yes! Evil," said Lyrna.

Jeremy stood up and put his hands on his hips. He continued to stare at the hot spring in silence.

"Jeffrey, step away from that smoke!" said Henrietta from atop the hill. Behind her, Bill cradled a rifle. Jason and his friend Adam stood stupefied in the shadows. "Boy, I said back away from that smoke!"

"Evil!" said Lyrna, now puffed as she circled around the hot spring.

"Lord Almighty, Bill," said Henrietta, turning to her husband. "It really is talking. Shoot it."

Bill raised his rifle and aimed it at Lyrna. His finger squeezed the trigger.

A shot rang out. A blue streak of light flashed in front of Jeremy and Lyrna. The bullet fell to the ground a few feet in front of Lyrna. Jeremy's hands swallowed the surge of blue light and he stood before the Truitt family in shock, his hair frizzy with static. Exhausted, he crumpled to the ground.
Chapter 16

The Trail

Henrietta crossed herself as she walked down the trail behind the house towards Jeremy and Lyrna. She groped a tree and fixed her eyes on Jeremy. "Lord, be my protector," she mumbled, at last holding out a hand to Jeremy.

Bill watched in horror as his wife neared the scene of the phenomenon. The boy, who may or may not be his own son, had just created lightening. His hair stood upright and smoke rose from a charred piece of wood by his feet. Bill nudged Jason with the rifle. "Go on, get some help from the Watsons. Go down next door, round up some folks from the church and tell 'em what you saw. Take the truck." Jason grabbed Adam by the elbow and the two boys sprinted to the front yard of the house.

Jeremy felt weak. He looked up at Henrietta's outstretched hand, but chose to ignore it. Did Bill just try to shoot Lyrna? Had he just produced electricity? Jeremy craned his neck towards Lyrna, who crouched low and moved towards him. She licked Jeremy's hand. It felt soothing.

"Jeremy, I mean no harm to you or your fuzzrat. There's been a mistake," said Henrietta, withdrawing her hand. Her eyes were wild and her lips trembled as she spoke. She crossed herself and looked at Lyrna. "That's a nice kitty. Sshh, there now."

Lyrna hissed.

Henrietta crossed herself again. "So what's all this going on out here? Why's the earth steamin'?" She gestured towards the hot spring and the surrounding grass clearing. The wind picked up and the arm of the scarecrow collapsed to the ground. Henrietta flinched and looked back to the top of the hill. Bill had taken a seat in the grass and was staring cautiously ahead. He nodded at her.

"Get me some water," said Jeremy.

"Oh yes, of course dear." Henrietta looked at the bubbling spring, swallowed, and then shuffled up the hill.

Jeremy spoke to Lyrna as soon as Henrietta was out of earshot. "I absorbed electricity! It entered in my hands, traveled through my arms, and went into my sternum. Did you see that?"

"Shoot at Lyrna!" said Lyrna, her ears tucked back.

"Right," said Jeremy. He looked up at the top of the hill and saw that Bill was still keeping vigil. Bill's gaze, however, was focused on the house.

"He's watching Henrietta. We need to leave. They'll try to shoot you again. We'll run towards those bushes on the count of three. Okay?"

Lyrna nodded.

Jeremy looked up at Bill. It would be their only chance and they'd have to be quick because Bill was still cradling his rifle. "One... two... THREE!" Jeremy jumped up and sprang for the bushes; Lyrna raced beside him. In a matter of seconds, the two were enclosed in dark green bushes. It was easy for Lyrna to maneuver through the underbrush, but Jeremy received numerous scratches and even tripped over an exposed tree root. The woods thinned out as the ground rose. Jeremy and Lyrna continued up the hill until the ground flattened out. Jeremy stopped. A trail crossed in front of them.

"What do you think, Lyrna?" Jeremy tried to steady his breath.

Lyrna looked left and then right, but only mewed in response.

"That way," Jeremy pointed left, "would probably lead back to the Truitt's. We could leave the path, but they might catch up to us. We'll go right." Jeremy took a deep breath before turning right and running as fast as he could.
Chapter 17

Destination Earth

Ms. Fritz sat at a sleek black table in the IIU Mothership, which was docked at a secret IIU outpost just outside Watico's jurisdiction. The red and black décor glowed as she flicked on her lighter. A cinnamon scented candle soon burned in front of her and she placed her black orb beside it. On the other side of the candle sat a tea saucer and a small plate with a croissant. Ms. Fritz nibbled idly on the croissant and sighed. She had just received word that Wantoro requested she be detained and questioned back on Watico. Ever since Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna crossed over to the Haze, Ms. Fritz feared that any delay in her own journey might prove disastrous. She needed to get to Earth to meet with Mantel as soon as possible. "So we agree that I cannot meet with the Chikalto family?"

Bentley nodded. He, along with the other two members of IIU 64, sat across from Ms. Fritz. "We'll have nothing to do with that family now that we've separated Jeremy. We'll begin the three year journey to Earth as soon as the other spaceships arrive."

"We're prepared to do what we must. I only wish we had more time," lamented the tall albino man, holding his hand to the breast of his starch white uniform.

"Drew, if you're going to mope, then you can get off this ship right now." Bentley's lip twitched.

"Sorry, sir."

"How are our supplies, Jasmine?" Bentley turned to the woman with radiant brown skin.

"We have enough supplies to last us four years, sir."

"Good." Bentley's lips curled. "I've waited too long for this moment."

Ms. Fritz paused and dunked her croissant into her tea, a gesture meant to be dramatic but executed too sloppily. Tea spilled onto her slacks. Ms. Fritz cleared her throat and dabbled at the spill. "Are you ready to meet Mantel?" Ms. Fritz was the only one of the party who had actually met Mantel and this gave her authority. Though she was young at the time, only nineteen years old, what she couldn't understand in her youth, Ms. Fritz's parents had made up for with instruction during the long return journey home. Her first visit to Earth had earned her the black orb.

Jasmine took a deep breath, "I am ready and willing to serve Mantel in every capacity."

"Because even though it only takes three years to get to Earth, you know it's a twenty year return journey. Quite a commitment, Jasmine."

"Only for Mantel."

"Only for Mantel," repeated Bentley.
Chapter 18

Ensnared

Jeremy and Lyrna shot down the trail. They had to be quick if they wanted to escape Bill and Henrietta's clutches. The trail became a blur of familiarity. Dodge a tree limb here, jump over a root there, turn a corner, repeat. Soon excitement replaced Jeremy's fears. Had he really just produced a bolt of lightening? Did it have something to do with the Haze? An angel had better visit me soon and tell me what the hell is going on! A tree limb snagged Jeremy's shirt, tearing the cotton at the shoulder, and Jeremy fell flat on his face.

Lyrna skid in the dirt and backtracked to the Cajjez. "Jeremy! Okay?"

Jeremy lifted his head from the forest floor. His lip was bleeding. In a panic, Jeremy felt around in his mouth. His perfect, white teeth were still in place. Jeremy smiled, spit up dirt and sighed, "Yes, I just bit my lip is all."

"Shoulder cut," said Lyrna.

Jeremy brushed some of the grass and dirt away from the area for a closer look. "Looks deep." Jeremy could feel it now, a dull throbbing sensation, warm and icky, traveling down his arm.

Suddenly a large green tarp ensnared them. Jeremy's heart jumped and Lyrna puffed and hissed. A small band of men and woman moved fast to tie the loose ends of the tarp together with rope. Jeremy punched and kicked, but it had little effect. "What are you doing? Let us go!"

Lyrna attempted to chew through the tarp, but it was pulled so taut, her mouth kept slipping. Between bites, she hissed, "Bad meddlers! Evil spring!"

The men and women grew silent. A man said, "Did you hear that? Well if the Devil himself weren't with us! It said 'evil!'" A woman agreed, "It's true then! Oh poor Henrietta, sufferin' like this." Another woman chimed in, "But then she left her boy for dead in that field, maybe this is her punishment." "Hasn't she been punished enough?" asked another. And the group started to bicker amongst themselves.

"Excuse me!" Jeremy punched at the legs of the closest man. "You don't know who you're dealing with! Let me go! I have a cut on my shoulder. I can't breathe!"

The crowd quieted once more as the man kneeled beside Jeremy. "We don't bow to no demon." The man spat on the ground, rose, and reinforced the tarp with more rope. "Let's bring 'em back to Henrietta and Bill's then. The others'll already be there with Jason and the truck."

As the group marched along the trail towards the Truitt's residence, panic began to set in. Jeremy struggled to free himself, but the tarp only tightened in response. Lyrna continued to chew in vain.

"No shoot Lyrna!" cried Lyrna.

"I won't let them, don't worry."

Clouds were coming in from the east as dusk approached. When they finally arrived at the Truitt's, crickets were beginning their night song.

Bill and Henrietta ran outside to greet them and were accompanied by a church congregation of ten. Among them, Jason, his friend Adam, and two young twin girls held candles. Bill slapped the man in the plaid shirt on the back. "You caught 'em! Oh thank the Lord. They got away from me and I was about to go after 'em, only was waitin' to hear back from Pastor Glibson. Where'd you find 'em?"

The man in the plaid shirt pointed to the path. "He was almost out to the road, we turn in, see him and the cat running towards us, and then he falls. I say, 'Let's go around the sides,' and so we close in on them with Bobby's tarp." The man shook the tarp and spit on the ground.

"Jeffrey! Now Jeffrey," said Henrietta, bending forward. "We're gonna get you the Lord's help."

"Ma, don't get close to him!" said Jason, clinging to his mother.

"Okay," said Bill, "we'll haul 'em into the shed in the back. I'll go get some more ropes and see if I got any chains. Jason, get your rabbit cage for the cat."

"Jon, Bob, grab that end of them." Bill and the other men hoisted the tarp across the yard to the shed. It was an old, rusty shed with a giant metal lock. Bill unlocked the door. Inside the shed was an assortment of old car parts, tractor parts, farm tools, and bicycles. The men worked fast to clear out room before setting the tarp down in the corner. Jason came soon after with his rabbit cage. Henrietta followed with a box full of religious paraphernalia.

"Take this, all of you," said Henrietta, shoving Bibles, crosses, and pictures of Christ into everyone's hands. "You don't know what they're capable of."

"Can I have some water?" asked Jeremy.

"Of course, and now you can't run." Henrietta left the shed and returned with a glass of water. She punctured the tarp and poured some water through the hole and into Jeremy's mouth.

"Lyrna would like some water too."

"Absolutely not."

Lyrna mewed.

"It'll be okay, Lyrna," said Jeremy. "But I do need medical attention so I think you should release me to have a look. My shoulder's cut pretty badly."

"Nope. That'll be up to the Pastor to decide I'm afraid. You can't be trusted with the devil speakin' through you."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Jeremy.

But Henrietta ignored him and herded everyone out of the shed, closing the door behind her. Jeremy heard the lock click. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, but couldn't get into a meditative state.
Chapter 19

Divergent Paths

Raaychila fussed about her wardrobe as Wantoro sat motionless in front of the television. "What do you think of this?" she asked, tossing a brown knitted overcoat onto the bed. "Or this?" A green, long-sleeved dress landed on top of the overcoat.

"Doesn't matter, sweetheart," said Wantoro.

"Well is it as cold outside as it is inside? You've really blasted the air conditioner."

Wantoro turned from the television to examine his wife. Her long, red curls danced about her slender waist as she shook her head in frustration.

"Well?" she said.

"Raaychila, just wear whatever's comfortable. This is no occasion to get dressed up, we're just meeting the IIU at the gates to detain Ms. Fritz for questioning. We'll be outside for a second. I expect a call any minute now."

Raaychila tossed her head back. "Dressing up? I'm not dressing up! Didn't you hear me? My concern is with the temperature. Do you think I'd wear that knitted brown overcoat as a fashion statement? Really." Raaychila grabbed at the green long-sleeved dress and disappeared into the closet, closing the door behind her. She called out from behind the door, "And I'm not waiting for a call. I'm going to the IIU Station."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because," said Raaychila, "I want to get out of this castle and I've already arranged to be transported to the station."

"Raaychila!" Wantoro walked over to the closet and gently knocked at the door. "You don't have to do that." He tried to sound sweet.

"Of course I don't have to do that. I could sit and wait, I could play the piano, I could sing. But our son is missing and I have to feel like I'm trying to find him!"

Wantoro pressed his forehead to the closet door. "I'm sorry."

"And you know you would have talked me out of it," Raaychila said after a moment of silence. Raaychila emerged from the closet in her green dress and wrapped her arms around Wantoro. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," she whispered, tucking her head into the curve of his neck. "I love you." Raaychila kissed him and went to her bedside table, grabbing her purse. "Call me when Ms. Fritz arrives and I'll call you if I find anything else out. If you can't get a hold of me for whatever reason, you can contact Ronny." She left the room.

Raaychila was accompanied by six body guards as she neared the spaceship landing strip on the roof of the west wing. It was brisk outside, but not as cold as the castle's interior. A craft awaited her, the engine already purring, and Ronny, the Planetary Security Office's Chief Investigator, helped her onto the platform. "Vinya Raaychilla, please relax and have a seat. Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?"

"No, that's quite all right Ronny. But thank you." Raaychila took a seat at the front of the craft as Ronny radioed the Communications Center for lift off.
Chapter 20

Pastor Glibson

Jeremy managed to make contact with Lyrna despite the Truitt's best efforts to separate the two by tying rope around the center of the tarp. He pushed two fingers through and pet Lyrna's head. The shed was dark and cold, and Jeremy took comfort in Lyrna's warm fur.

"So much for our great escape." Jeremy sighed. "Lyrna, whenever the men return, they're going to put you in a cage and I need you to listen to me. Don't talk, don't answer them, and don't hiss if you're angry."

"Lyrna hate place. Hate hot spring."

Jeremy fidgeted. "See, on Earth they don't have fizdrufts so they're scared of you when you talk."

"Hot spring," said Lyrna.

"I know, I know. We'll figure that out later. We have to focus on getting out of here."

Someone coughed outside. The crickets stopped chirping and everything went still. Soon the din of cricket chirps picked up again.

Jeremy took a deep breath and continued in a whisper, "Do you think I'm supposed to go back to the hot spring?"

"No!"

"Ssh! Lyrna, please keep your voice down."

"No stinky pool. Death smell."

"I just... I don't know what I'm supposed to do next."

The door to the shed creaked open and a single figure entered, a candle lighting up his face. He was an old man with wide eyes and furry white eyebrows. He had a deep crease between his eyes and a large, bulbous nose. Lyrna growled.

"Lyrna, ssh!"

"Jeffrey Truitt?" said the man, stepping forward.

"I'm Jeremy Chikalto."

The man motioned for some members of his congregation outside to carry in a wood table. He stroked the table. "Jeremy, are you a demon?"

"No, I am not a demon." Jeremy balled his hands into fists. "What's going on?"

"Are you in possession of Jeffrey Truitt's body?"

"No, because I'm not Jeffrey Truitt. There's been a mistake. Let me out of here!"

"Mark 5, verses 2 through 5," the old man scratched his fingernails across the wooden table top. "'When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an evil spirit came from the tombs to meet him. This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him any more, not even with a chain. For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him.' Jeremy Chikalto, do you testify before the Lord that you have supernatural strength?"

"No, I do not." Jeremy was beginning to feel the cold

rising up from the damp floorboards. He wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered.

"Jeremy Chikalto, do you swear before the Lord that you do not have supernatural powers?"

"What?" Jeremy rubbed his arms. "What do you mean?"

"Do you swear on the Lord's name that you do not have supernatural powers?"

"If I do, it's a gift from God." Jeremy's mouth snapped shut. His teeth rattled. Lyrna mewed.

"Your family, Henrietta, Bill, Jason, and his friend Adam, have told me that you imitated the Lord's lightening with your hands. Can you tell me about this?"

"I don't know," Jeremy stammered. "I'm not sure I understand."

The old man turned to the congregation crammed in the doorway, each face vying for a glimpse, and nodded. "Now then, Jeremy, this cat of yours – I have reason to believe it's what is known as a witch's familiar."

Lyrna produced a strained mew. Jeremy could tell she was trying her best to suppress a growl.

"No, she's not. She's just my cat."

"A talking cat?"

"No." Jeremy's stomach grumbled. He felt sick and exhausted. When would they find the chance to flee?

"And are you in regular communication with the cat?"

Henrietta pushed through the crowd and waved her arm. "Pastor Glibson! Yes, I can testify in the Lord's name!

That cat speaks of evil! It says 'evil' then runs and we find a steamin' pool in our yard next to the scarecrow. The pool ain't never been there before! That cat speaks!"

Everyone agreed that the cat was unmistakably possessed.

"Silence!" said Pastor Glibson, turning back around to the Cajjez. "Do you deny these charges?"

"I don't know who you are or why you're here. Tell me that first and I'll give you a clear answer."

"Oh?"

"Let me explain my share," said Henrietta from outside. A murmur swept through the crowd as room was made for her to pass. Henrietta stood between Jeremy and the Pastor, clutching a cross necklace to her breast. "Pastor Glibson, Jeffrey, as I see it and as I've told you both, the Lord blessed me with a second chance. My son returned only a week ago and I had a feelin' sweep up over me and the Lord told me it's my boy come home. So he starts tellin' me 'bout angels. Then I notice he's quotin' the Bible, pullin' me in, and then I notice he's addin' stuff that just ain't in it! I'm startin' to wonder if he's dangerous. He's got this cat I ain't never liked and then it talks at supper! I heard it, then it ran outside. Jeffrey ran out first, 'course, and we follow them two and don't you know it, they're conspirin' about evil over a stewin' hot pool! Witchcraft! Devilry! So Jeffrey," Henrietta massaged her crucifix, "we've gone and fetched Pastor Glibson and he will get that demon out of you! It's my demon, coming back to haunt me. I'm so sorry." Henrietta burst into tears. Pastor Glibson patted her head and nudged her back into the fold.

"Jeffrey, we will save you. Our Lord Jesus Christ will save you," said Pastor Glibson, eyes sparkling.

Jeremy suspected the whole lot of them were crazy. Lyrna, for one, was not evil. If Earthlings knew anything about fizdrufts, they'd know that fizdrufts detected evil and were inherently good. Maybe Pastor Glibson and the Truitt family weren't crazy, only confused. It wasn't often, after all, that Jeremy encountered individuals who were even willing to consider the existence of demons and supernatural powers. He had to give them the benefit of the doubt. If he wanted the respect of not being regarded as crazy when he talked about being visited by an angel and traveling behind the air, he'd have to be open-minded in his dealings with others. Jeremy took a deep breath. "Pastor Glibson, the truth is –" Jeremy imagined all the faces staring down on him in the tarp, eager and hungry. Could he be honest with them? "The truth is I'm not Jeffrey Truitt. I'm from the planet Watico."

The crowd gasped but were immediately silenced by Pastor Glibson with a stern look and a level hand. "Go on, my dear boy."

"A phenomenon did occur and it might be the effect of some supernatural powers, but I've barely had time to process it myself. Seeing as how you're all religious people," pride swelled in Jeremy's chest, "I should tell you that an angel visited me and that it said the end is near. So you might want to... prepare or something." Jeremy's pride quickly deflated.

Even the crickets went quiet.

The old man teetered on the edge of the wooden table, his hand trembling. He turned to his procession and calmly said, "Bill, please come here and assist me in releasing the boy from the tarp."

Bill came forward and began to cut the ropes with bolt cutters. Part of the tarp was opened with a knife. Jeremy could just fit his head through, but his shoulders were too wide. Another cut in the tarp was all that was needed. Bill cut. Jeremy leaned forward to squeeze through but instead Lyrna rushed forth, her claws out and hissing. The men recoiled as Lyrna leapt over the congregation and ran off into the night. The women crossed themselves and began to pray and some of the men ran off in the direction after Lyrna, but Pastor Glibson remained calm. "Everyone, please settle down. Let's settle down. We'll let the cat go. Jeremy, are you ready?"

Jeremy smiled. Lyrna would be all right. "Could someone grab my hand?" Jeremy pushed his hand through and felt a large, strong grip pull him out. Once his upper body was free, the rest slipped out easily.

Suddenly Pastor Glibson shouted, "Grab him!" and all of the men fell upon Jeremy and forced him down onto the table. Bill quickly tied Jeremy's arms and legs, pulled the rope underneath the table and secured it at the metal legs at each corner.
Chapter 21

Besieged

The spaceship doors opened and Raaychila, Ronny, and six security guards walked along the enclosed platform that led to the IIU Space Station. Raaychila noticed that a great many IIU spaceships were missing. "Busy day," she said as she braided a purple scarf through her hair. Ronny, the Chief Security Investigator, nodded.

At the end of the corridor, the entry gate opened and soon they were inside the IIU Space Station. A senior IIU officer froze upon seeing them and darted behind a column.

He quickly dialed Ms. Fritz.

"Hello?" said Ms. Fritz from the other line.

"Ms. Fritz, we have a problem. Vinya Raaychila and some Watican security forces are here. What should I do with them?"

"Get rid of them! What do you think? We can't have them sniffing around! They're probably looking for me. I was supposed to show up at Wantoro's castle to be detained. Get rid of them quickly. They already know too much." Ms. Fritz hung up the phone.

The senior IIU officer emerged from behind the column, grinning uneasily. He greeted Raaychila. "Hello, Vinya Raaychila. Welcome to the IIU Station. As you can see, we've been very busy searching for your son. I trust your husband sent you to receive news on Jeremy?"

"I've sent myself, actually. He's waiting for Ms. Fritz." Vinya Raaychila watched in astonishment as another IIU spacecraft lifted off at the gate.

"We have new intelligence about your son's whereabouts. If you come with me, I'll have some of our people bring you up to date." The man bowed and then led Raaychila and her guards to a boarding deck. "Just wait inside this ship and someone will be right with you."

Vinya Raaychila, Ronny, and the six security guards filed into the small IIU craft. Outside, an IIU scout approached the captain. "We have to clear out soon. The Mothership is leaving for Earth in less than two hours."

Raaychila frowned and looked at Ronny. "Did you hear that?" She pressed her face against the window and watched as the IIU captain and scout disappeared around a corner. "I'm going to give Wantoro a call. Hold this." The bangles on Raaychila's wrists jingled as she thrust her purse onto Ronny's lap. She put her phone to her ear. "Wantoro?"

"Yes? Hello. Any news?" answered Wantoro.

"Well the captain at the station said they have new intelligence on Jeremy."

"That's great news!"

"Has Ms. Fritz arrived yet?"

"No, no word on that. Are you okay?"

Raaychila hesitated and walked to the back of the room. She lowered her voice. "I'm okay, but I'm getting a strange vibe, probably nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the station was literally empty and we're waiting to hear from some members of the IIU. They have us sitting in one of their crafts. The thing is, I overheard someone mention Earth."

"Earth!" said Wantoro. "What do you mean, Earth! If he's gone to Earth he needs to be intercepted immediately! That's, what, a three year journey? Whoever kidnapped him and Maren will have a two week lead at best! We'll send our fasted crafts!"

"Ssh, ssh! I don't know, no one's said anything. I don't know! I only thought I overhead –"

"Raaychila, this is serious!"

"I know. I'm sorry for getting you wound up, nothing's been confirmed yet. I'm going to talk to someone shortly and I'll call you then. Relax, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. I–" Raaychila sighed and flung her long braid over her shoulder, "I only called because it's eerie how deserted this place is. But honestly I don't know anything yet."

"All right." Wantoro brought the volume of his voice down. "I'll try to stay calm. I'll call when Ms. Fritz arrives if I don't hear from you. Stay safe."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too. Speak to you soon."

"Here they come," said Ronny, pointing out the window.

Raaychila clicked her phone off and rushed over to the window. She peered outside. Around twenty armed IIU scouts walked calmly to the craft's back hatch door, the overhead lights reflecting off of their crisp white uniforms. "Why are their weapons drawn?"

The spaceship hatch door opened and three shots fired, one straight through a Watican guard's head. Blood splattered on the white wall and the guard dropped. Raaychila screamed. One of the Watican guards fired through the first line of IIU offense, instantly killing two scouts.

"In here!" Ronny dragged a confused and frantic Raaychila to the front compartment, closing the door behind him. "We have to get out of here!"

"Oh, hurry Ronny! Hurry!" she squeaked.

Ronny flipped the start-up switches. The engine roared. Suddenly the front hatch door opened and two IIU members appeared in the doorway. A bullet ripped through Raaychila's cheek and she collapsed on the seat. Ronny slammed his hand on the hatch door lock and the door sealed shut. "Raaychila, stay with me!"

Shots continued to fire outside and in the back compartment. Ronny pressed the button to shut the back hatch door.

Ronny pulled the craft upright, simultaneously exerting pressure on Raaychila's wound with his free hand. The craft wobbled but withstood the shots from outside. Ronny knew he had to get out of there before the others managed to board their crafts in pursuit. The craft lurched forward and sped through space.

Raaychila, covered in blood and shaking all over, grabbed Ronny's hand.

"Stay with me," said Ronny. "I'll get you back to Watico!"

"Ronny, I..." Raaychila's voice trailed off as she gasped for breath.

"You're going into shock. I have to control the bleeding." Ronny took his uniform jacket off and ripped the sleeve. He quickly wrapped the cloth around Raaychila's head.

"They... Jeremy! They have Jeremy!" said Raaychila.

Ronny pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Watico's Emergency Squad.

Raaychila tried to keep her eyes open. She shivered and gasped every time a dull sleep crept over her, her eyes rolling back. Sound began to fade. Ronny, too, was fading.
Chapter 22

The Demon Within

Jeremy struggled with all his might to break from the restraints. He snarled and flung his head wildly about. The men closed in around him as the women pushed in from the outskirts for a closer look.

Pastor Glibson splashed holy water onto Jeremy's face. "God arises; His enemies are scattered and those who hate Him flee before Him. As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God."

The assembly crossed themselves.

"Let me go!" said Jeremy, still trying to break his restraints.

Pastor Glibson continued, "We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions, assemblies and sects. In the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from the souls made to the image and likeness of God and redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb!"

More holy water splashed onto Jeremy's face. Jeremy gnashed his teeth and cursed, the ties on his wrists were beginning to cut off circulation to his hands. Suddenly, Jeremy felt a surge of energy deep within his sternum. A blue spark shot up from his chest and his hair stood upright.

The crowd gasped and withdrew from the table. Pastor Glibson splashed more holy water onto Jeremy and yelled, "Most cunning serpent, you shall no more dare to deceive the human race, persecute the Church, torment God's elect and sift them as wheat! The Most High God commands you, He with whom, in your great insolence, you still claim to be equal! 'God who wants all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth' (I Tim. 2,4). God the Father commands you," more holy water. "God the Son commands you," another splash. "God the Holy Ghost commands you!"

Jeremy found that if he willed himself free, and focused all his energy into his sternum, that he could make electricity surge through his body. He concentrated as best he could despite the numbing pain that traveled up his arms. His sternum spewed blue sparks.

"I can see the demon!" yelled Henrietta, pushing towards the table. "Get out of my boy, devil!" Henrietta dug her fingernails into Jeremy's flesh, ripping down his arm. Jeremy screamed. A blue zap threw Henrietta to the floor.

Pastor Glibson splashed more holy water onto Jeremy as Bill and Bobby grabbed loose ply boards from the rafters. Jeremy snarled and zapped as he struggled. Bill dealt the first blow. The ply wood cracked onto Jeremy's leg. Jeremy screamed as a second blow landed on his chest. His body burned, but somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a faint voice calling his name.

"Jeremy! They have my Jeremy!" It was his mother's voice. Jeremy could feel vibrations rippling through his body. He'd leave this place. He'd follow the voice, if he only willed to. Jeremy tried to concentrate. He slowed his breath down. Another plank struck him across the face. Concentrate! Jeremy took in another breath, exhaled, and his body began to rattle.

"Jeremy!"

Plywood struck the top of his head.

Jeremy floated up through the tunnel. Just beyond the tunnel was the familiar purple Haze. "Mother?" Jeremy swam through. Soon, animals were drifting past him."Jeremy, I'm sorry!"

Jeremy turned around and saw a bear pulling his mother slowly through the Haze by a chord attached to her sternum. The bear stopped and turned towards Raaychila. It licked her face. Blood poured out from a hole in her cheek.

Jeremy's eyes widened in fright. He swam to her, weaving in and out of animal spirits and their dead. "Mother? What's happened!"

Raaychila looked at him and gasped. His body was covered in bruises and blood. Raaychila, frightened, said, "I'm sorry Jeremy. Have I died? Are you dead?"

"I'm not dead, are you...?" Jeremy felt a hollowness in his chest. He began to weep and threw himself at the skirt of her green dress. "No!"

The bear yanked Raaychila's chord and pulled her slowly through the Haze.

"Mother!"

"I don't understand!" screamed Raaychila.

Jeremy's body began to vibrate. He opened his eyes and was back on the table in the Truitt's shed.

The congregation, which had scattered outside, flooded back into the room. Jeremy had no energy left to struggle, to sparkle; he could only cry.

Pastor Glibson raised his hands in the air. "Praise be to God!"
Chapter 23

The Watican Army

Vor Wantoro sat at a table surrounded by advisors. He rubbed his temples. It had all happened so fast. "We'll follow the IIU. Dispatch the army. Call in the reserve."

Twenty men and women sat, unblinking, before the Vor, their hands clasped neatly in front of them. The fate of Watico depended on their vote, but ultimately the Vor's emotions steered the ship.

"To Earth, sir? Do we have enough supplies for all our troops?"

"Of course we do, I've declared a state of emergency. We leave in three hours. The sooner we leave, the sooner this will all be over!"

"And Vinya Raaychila?" asked a hoarse voice.

Wantoro froze. Everyone waited in silence for his response. "She," he ran his hands through his hair and frowned, "comes with me." Wantoro walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

A Watican army consisting of five hundred large crafts, each carrying twenty smaller crafts for a total capacity of ten thousand soldiers and personnel, loomed on the horizon. The ships lurched forward at near light speed and the atmosphere roared. Blue, purple, and pink streaks lined the sky. Wantoro hoped to catch up with IIU forces within the next forty-two hours. If they could take any prisoners, they might be able to piece together a coherent narrative, beginning with the kidnapping of Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna, and leading up to the attack on Raaychila and Watican security forces. The destination of the IIU and of Ms. Fritz was concluded to be Earth, though Wantoro couldn't begin to understand why.

Gillian and Mateo entered the parlor of the Watican Mothership through sliding glass doors. "Wantoro, we're so sorry!" Gillian and Mateo rushed forward to offer their condolences, both looking thinner and paler than the last time the Vor had seen them.

Wantoro raised his slumped head, his thick black hair uncharacteristically tangled, and managed a weak smile. "Gillian, Mateo, we're all in this together. There's still hope. Raaychila," it pained him to say his wife's name, "remains in critical condition, but she's not lost yet. And our children..."

"How long has she been in the coma?" asked Gillian in a soft voice.

"Nine hours, thirty-seven minutes." Wantoro sighed, covered his face, and began to cry. His great shoulders heaved as tears pooled in his hands.
Chapter 24

Locked

A week had passed since Jeremy first learned of his mother's death. He remained confined to the shed, chained to the back wall, his despair and hunger increasing. Jeremy rarely saw sunlight and subsisted mainly on water, potatoes, and bread. He had tried to escape for a few nights, but found his electrical abilities to be unpredictable at best, and his attempts at crossing over into the Haze unsuccessful.

Jason approached the shed doors. Jeremy knew it was Jason because he always whistled the same song and always out of key. Jeremy cringed at a particularly shrill b-flat.

"Hey demon boy!" said Jason, opening the shed doors. "Ma's got some scraps of bacon left, thought she'd be nice and give you some of the fat. I told her she'd be better off usin' it to grease the pan." Jason flicked the clumps of bacon fat onto the floor by Jeremy's feet. Jeremy knelt on his knees and lowered his mouth to the floor to eat. The smell made him salivate. His hands and feet remained chained to the back of the shed.

"Hah! Not Ma's favorite no more, are you? She's gonna let me sit at the head of the table next week. It's my birthday. I'll be a man, and I'm gonna say, 'Clean my shoes, boy!' and you're gonna listen. And if you're good, maybe I'll let you have a piece of my cake. Maybe. Probably not though."

At that moment, Bill arrived. He grabbed Jason by the arm. "Boy! How many times I gotta tell you to leave your brother be. Always dilly-dallyin' in here. Did you give him the bacon fat?"

"Yeah, geez!" Jason pulled his arm back from his father and rubbed it. "If you care so much, why not let him back inside?"

"Come on, you!" Bill held the shed door open and Jason shuffled through. After the door closed, Bill said, "We're just waitin' to see if the demon's really gone. Your ma says we have to be patient, the Lord –" his voice trailed off. Jeremy heard the front porch door screech closed as they entered the house.

Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How could he have lost both Maren and his mother? Jeremy lowered himself to the floor, hoping to lick up any extra bacon fat that he had missed.

A branch creaked outside. Jeremy lifted his head and stared at the shed doors.

"Lyrna want in."

"Lyrna!" said Jeremy. Her voice was the first bit of real happiness he had experienced in some time.

"Jeremy!" A branch snapped. "Lyrna sorry. Lyrna chased. Back now." Lyrna quieted for a moment and then added, "Lyrna hungry!"

Jeremy pushed himself back up so that he slumped against the wall. "Sorry Lyrna, I don't have any more food. But can you help me out of here?"

Lyrna mewed and scratched at the door.

"It's locked. I think it's a bolt lock. My hands and feet are locked in chains but you'll need a key for that. Go see around the back."

Lyrna walked around to the back of the shed and then rapped on the wall. "Here?"

"Yes, what do you see?"

Lyrna growled and then ran off into the bushes. Jeremy heard the porch door swing open.

"Lyrna see Henrietta," whispered Lyrna. "Laundry."

A moment of silence passed and then the porch door screeched closed.

"Okay."

"So what do you see back there?" said Jeremy.

"Big lock. Need key."

"Either Henrietta or Bill has it. You'll have to sneak into the house and find it."

Lyrna mewed. "But gun!"

"Tonight Henrietta will come here to read me some Bible passages. I'll ask her if she can loosen the chain on my left leg or something. You stay outside but follow her around the back to see what the key looks like."

"Attack? Get it!"

"No! Not yet, wait. I want you to follow her back inside until you know where she keeps that key. Then go in when everyone's asleep and retrieve it. Can you do this?"

"Why wait?"

"Because if you attack her, we risk Bill and Jason coming outside and..." Jeremy's voice trailed off. He knew they'd beat him. Lyrna would be dead for sure. He thought of his mother. A tear fell down his cheek and he sniffled.

"Jeremy all right?"

"Yes Lyrna, some terrible things have happened since you left. We can talk about it later. Just please be careful."

Later that night, Henrietta approached the shed. She tapped on the doors. "You okay in there, sweetheart?"

"Could you come in?"

"'Course, what'd you think I was gonna do?" Henrietta opened the door and sat across from Jeremy in a green plastic lawn chair that had been brought in for Bible devotions. "I brought you some milk, sweetie."

"Thank you," said Jeremy. Goat's milk had initially revolted him, but lately it tasted like ambrosia. He leaned forward to catch the liquid in his mouth. After his first gulp, he spit some onto the floor, pulling his head back. "Why does it taste like that?"

Henrietta laughed, "Relax, only put some whiskey in it to help you sleep better is all. Now drink up. There's a lot and I don't want you to miss another drop."

Jeremy allowed the hot, bitter drink to flow into his mouth. It burned his throat and made his eyes water, but he knew he had to act appreciative in order to win her trust.

"Mother?" said Jeremy, as sweetly as he knew how.

"Yes, baby?"

"My left foot hurts really bad. I can't pull it out as far as my right and I've been putting all this extra weight on it. It feels numb and tingly." Jeremy's eyes teared. "Please, Mother, could you please loosen it?" Jeremy batted his eyelashes.

"Oh, come now Jeffrey." Henrietta folded her arms across her chest and gave him a quick look over. She admired his electric blue eyes. "Baby, that's how the whiskey's gonna help."

"Please?"

"'Patience is a virtue,' says the Lord. And we must endure trials and tribulations."

"My foot!" Jeremy sobbed softly and looked down at his left foot.

Henrietta bumbled up from her chair. "Oh, all right then. But no funny business! If I catch you fraternizin' with the devil, even just once, I will personally beat those demons out of you, you hear me Jeffrey William Truitt?" She struck him across the face, and then again, leaving splotches of red on both of Jeremy's cheeks.

"Yes ma'am," said Jeremy, eyes downcast.

Henrietta leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. "That's my baby." She exited the shed and went around the back. Jeremy could hear the jingling of a key chain. Within seconds, the chain slackened and Jeremy found that he could pull his left foot forward. He wanted to leap, to bend and flex, but restrained himself. He allowed for five additional inches of foot space, just enough to treat himself to a decent stretch, but not enough to arouse any suspicions.

Henrietta ambled in and plopped back down onto her lawn chair. She studied Jeremy's extra leg room and smiled. "There, that good for you?"

"Yes! Yes, thank you Mother. Thank you Lord," Jeremy quickly added.

Henrietta proceeded with devotions, choosing as her topic the story of Cain and Abel:

Adam knew his wife Eve intimately, and she conceived and gave birth to Cain. She said, "I have had a male child with the LORD's help." Then she also gave birth to his brother Abel. Now Abel became a shepherd of a flock, but Cain cultivated the land. In the course of time Cain presented some of the land's produce as an offering to the LORD. And Abel also presented an offering ― some of the firstborn of his flock and their fat portions. The Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, but He did not have regard for Cain and his offering. Cain was furious, and he was downcast. Then the LORD said to Cain, "Why are you furious? And why are you downcast? If you do right, won't you be accepted? But if you do not do right, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must master it." Cain said to his brother Abel, "Let's go out to the field." And while they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him. Then the Lord said to Cain,"Where is your brother Abel?" "I know not," he replied. "Am I my brother's keeper?" Then He said, "What have you done? Your brother's blood cries out to Me from the ground! So now you are cursed from the ground that opened its mouth to receive your brother's blood you have shed. If you work the land, it will never again give you its yield. You will be a restless wanderer on the earth." But Cain answered the Lord, "My punishment is too great to bear! Since You are banishing me today from the soil, and I must hide myself from Your presence and become a restless wanderer on the earth, whoever finds me will kill me." Then the Lord replied to him, "Therefore, whosoever slayeth Cain vengeance will be taken on him sevenfold." And the Lord set a Mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him. Then Cain went out from the Lord's presence and lived in the land of Nod, east of Eden.

– Genesis 4:1-16

Henrietta closed her Bible and stared at Jeremy. "Do right and you'll be accepted," was all she said. She rose from her seat and returned to the house. Jeremy, meanwhile, was beginning to feel nauseous.
Chapter 25

Pirate

The fleet of IIU spaceships sped towards Earth with Watican forces at its heels. Ms. Fritz adjusted her weight in her seat as she examined the black orb. Bentley sat across from her, admiring the mysterious communications device with his snake-like eyes.

"So Mantel knows we're coming?" asked Bentley.

Ms. Fritz brought the orb close to her chest. "Yes. Mantel's servants know exactly where the Cajjez is located." Ms. Fritz smiled and caressed the orb. "Wait until you see Mantel's powers."

"How does it work, exactly?" asked Bentley, pointing to the orb.

"Oh, now you know I can't rightly explain it."

Bentley crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Indulge me."

Ms. Fritz sighed. "Well, I've been told that it operates through subtle vibrations – frequencies beyond what are detectable by instruments; that is, except by the instrument of a living being. The soul exists on these levels and continues there after bodily death. The substance inside this orb," Ms. Fritz shook the orb for emphasis, "is from the Haze, also known as the place where the souls of the dead go before they're sorted. The substance works as some type of conductor. A demon had acquired this orb before entering Mantel's Maze. I really can't tell you much more than that, other than Jeremy has access to this other place. All I know is that if I concentrate on the orb, I can hear Mantel whisper to me."

Bentley eyed the orb and licked his lips. "Tell me again about Mantel's promise." He leaned forward across the table, propping his head up with his hands.

Ms. Fritz continued, "Mantel's domain is a beautiful maze, where souls walk about in human form. They think, they drink, eat, love! Just as life is a myriad of choices, so is death. Mantel promises an everlasting, eternal life of choice. I've seen it, I've seen the harvested souls! What a fate, to remain individuated, to have free will forever! God, Lucifer, we have no proof of what happens to the souls of the dead. Mantel warns that if our soul joins God after we die, that our individuality will be extinguished and we'll be doomed to live a life of selflessness. If we join Lucifer, we might have the illusion of free will, but we'll be forced into servitude and will suffer eternal pain. What we really want is to preserve life as we know it. If Mantel controls Jeremy, Mantel will gain unlimited access to the place where souls are sorted and he'll be able to bring more souls into his domain." Ms. Fritz frowned. "Mantel's current method of acquiring souls is disorganized at best. But rest assured, Mantel will save us all." Ms. Fritz held the orb up for Bentley to admire. A swirl of purple emerged briefly on its black surface and then disappeared into its center.

An IIU scout emerged from the front compartment of the Mothership. Ms. Fritz and Bentley turned to the scout, whose face was locked in a stone cold expression.

"Watican forces are closer than expected. We're picking up some small spy crafts on our radar. We've spotted two so far, only tiny blips on our screen, but we're certain there are more."

Ms. Fritz pushed up from the table, hiding the orb in the pocket of her robe. "So it's begun." She paced the room. "We'll have to attack. If we don't attack now they're likely to follow. We can't have Watican forces on Earth. They'd ruin everything!"

Bentley looked up from under his bushy brow. "You don't think they'd actually follow us for three years, do you?"

"I do." Ms. Fritz recalled an image of Wantoro in her mind's eye. His face was strong, his expression resolute. "Some of our forces won't make it to Earth if we fight, that's very true. But those who fight and die will be honored as martyrs and Mantel will know of their deeds. We must have faith. If, no, when Mantel has Jeremy under his control, our forces, deceased or otherwise, will find their way to Mantel's Maze."

"So then we'll all die, is that what you're suggesting?" Bentley frowned.

"No, our ship and a few others will continue forward. The rest will hold them off. I'll leave it up to you to determine which ships join us."

Bentley massaged his chin. "First, I propose we send one of our spy crafts to intercept and pirate a craft."

"We haven't the time for those types of games, Bentley!"

"Ms. Fritz, please. If we pirate one of their spy crafts, we can bring it back to Watico's Mothership and attempt to kidnap Wantoro."

"Now wait," Ms. Fritz's voice trailed off, puzzled by the proposal. "And you're aware that this mission is likely to be a suicide mission?"

"What else is turning around and fighting Watico's army? Besides, you forget our units are highly trained in subterfuge. An enemy infiltration mission is not out of the ordinary. And if we succeed, Wantoro could prove to be excellent leverage in securing Jeremy's allegiance."

Ms. Fritz smoothed her hair back and straightened her posture. "Very well, let's begin."
Chapter 26

Severance

The cool night air drifted in from a crack in the base of the shed, tickling Jeremy's feet. Outside, the steady drone of crickets continued. Jeremy focused on this, waiting for the temporary halt of chirp song that would signify Lyrna's approach.

"Chirp, chirp, chirp," Jeremy babbled. His head felt like it weighed a ton. "Chirp," he sang, followed by "chirp!" an octave higher. The crickets quieted. Oops, thought Jeremy, judging his song to be too loud. A single cricket started up again but soon stopped. Jeremy tensed. Someone was approaching.

"Lyrna, key!" whispered Lyrna from behind the shed. Jeremy heard the lock jostle. His chains slackened.

"Lyrna, pass the chains through the hole, I'll bring them through to my side. We have to try to do this quietly." Jeremy pulled the chains through as Lyrna fed them through the hole in the back of the shed.

"Chains all knotted," said Lyrna.

"It's okay, take your time," said Jeremy, his speech slurring from the whiskey Henrietta had put in his milk. The chain connecting his arm slackened and he pulled it through. Within minutes, Jeremy had collected all of the chains in his arms. He was now free to walk, though the chains remained cuffed around his wrists and ankles. Jeremy shuffled to the door. "Lyrna, you have to figure out how to open this door. I think it's a simple slide lock." Jeremy leaned against the door, his head throbbing. "But be quiet."

Jeremy's pulse quickened as he heard Lyrna dragging a trashcan across the lawn to the shed door. The door rattled, and Jeremy fell back, landing with a great thud onto the shed floor. The crickets, who had adjusted to the noise of the dragging trash can, now became silent again. Jeremy struggled to lift himself off the floor, the mess of chains hindering his balance. The door opened.

Lyrna leapt into the air upon seeing Jeremy. A steady purr rumbled in her throat.

Jeremy collected all of the chains into his arms again and smiled. "Thanks, Lyrna." He looked up at the house. The lights were still off. "Quick, back here." Jeremy shuffled to the back of the shed and used the key to unlock his cuffs. Jeremy gestured towards the woods. Lyrna nodded.

Jeremy and Lyrna moved slowly through the woods because Jeremy's head was reeling. His stomach gurgled and he knelt down in a patch of grass and vomited.

"Stinky!" mewed Lyrna.

"Sorry." Jeremy struggled to rise. "How far are we?"

"Okay?"

The last thing Jeremy remembered was slumping forward onto the cool grass.

"Come! Come!" said Lyrna.

Jeremy awoke to find Lyrna pulling on his sleeve. It was lighter outside but still only early morning. "What?" Jeremy felt his head, still throbbing from the night before. The knot in his stomach had loosened. "What happened?" "Jeremy sleep."

Jeremy stood up and looked around him. "Where are we?"

"Still close to house. Need move!"

"Right."

Jeremy looked behind him. The roof of the house was still in sight, poking through the trees. Jeremy stumbled towards Lyrna. The two briefly continued on the path before opting for a more hidden route through the underbrush. The trees and rocks were difficult to negotiate and slowed their pace. Jeremy thought it best to take their time so as to minimize noise. Also, he was certain he'd fall if he tried to run.

The woods remained quiet in the early morning hours, save the melodious chirping of morning birds. Jeremy and Lyrna at last reached the final stretch of the trail. Just beyond the bend was the main road. Hope seemed tangible once more.

A rock struck Jeremy across the cheek. Baffled, Jeremy spun around.

"Stay right there." Jason emerged from behind a tree, a pistol in his hand. He motioned with his other hand and Adam came into view. Adam laughed sheepishly.

"Jason," said Jeremy cooly, "put the gun down."

"Nope! And I'll tell you what's goin' down. See, I woke up to go to school and seen you asleep on the path. I think to myself, I gotta tell Ma and Pa, but then I think – why not take care of it myself? Always thinkin' you're so special. I know the devil ain't come out of you. Ma's blind, Pa's blind if they think different." Jason snickered and took a step forward. Adam followed his example and moved closer. "So where's that get us?"

Jeremy stood as tall as he could. "I'm leaving and you're not going to stop me."

"Really?" Jason laughed again and brought himself face to face with Jeremy. "'Cause the way I see it is I got a gun. And I know how to use it. Got a pretty decent shot, too." Jason brought the gun up to Jeremy's face. "You're comin' with me."

Jeremy knew he couldn't go back to that house. The Truitt's would tie him down, beat him and recite prayers. And Lyrna–

"Watch out for that cat!" yelled Adam.

Lyrna growled and puffed to her full height, ready to pounce. She flashed her fangs at Jason.

"What, that thing? That's the first thing I'm gonna take care of." Jason aimed the gun at Lyrna and squeezed the trigger.

Jeremy leapt forward, knocking Jason's arm as he released the trigger. The gun fired and the bullet hit a tree. Jason toppled to the ground and Jeremy fell on top of him, attempting to wrestle the gun from his grasp. Adam dropped to the ground and hid behind a tree.

"You're comin' home!" yelled Jason.

Jeremy pried Jason's fingers off the grip as his other hand slid down along the barrel. The gun was now under his control. But Jason kept grabbing at it, so he drew it closer to his chest. The muzzle pointed up under Jason's chin. Jason narrowed his eyes and at that moment Jeremy saw in Jason a sad envy. Jason kicked Jeremy in the gut and Jeremy could feel the gun slipping. He pulled. A loud bang rang out. Their eye contact continued for a moment, and Jason's lips curled into a faint smile of relief. Jason slumped to the ground. Blood gushed everywhere.

Adam sprang up screaming from behind the tree and ran away.

Jeremy's head spun. He had never seen so much blood. Blood on his arms, his shirt, his face. Everything felt warm and sticky. Jeremy fell forward and wept on the ground. Jason was dead. He wouldn't have a birthday party next week. He wouldn't grow up to be a man. Jason was blood, all blood. He had killed Jason. The grass was covered in Jason. Large black birds began to circle overhead, cawing for Jason. Even the ants and beetles seemed to rise up from the Earth for Jason.

Rising slowly from the ground, the world seemed altered. Jeremy cried and beat his fists on the ground. Life felt heavy. Answers no longer flitted before him. He was alone and lost. Where was the angel? Where was God? Jeremy sobbed as he stumbled towards the open road just around the bend. Maybe there was a demon inside him after all.
Chapter 27

Chaos Reigns

The Watican spy crafts had made progress and already ships were returning to the Watican Mothership with intelligence. Wantoro massaged his temples. He let his hand caress Raaychila's which lay folded neatly across her chest. Her coma hadn't broken. Raaychila's face was a peculiar mix of hope and fear. The creases around her eyes tensed and gave her a strained expression, but every now and then, the dimples in her cheeks would twitch and light up her face. From the small room where she was kept, one might forget the chaos just beyond the closed door. But every time a doctor or nurse swept through the room, a cacophony of voices would enter, eventually disappearing once the door shut into place.

Wantoro wiped his brow. He had acted in haste to pursue the IIU and now any semblance of order was lost. What else could he have done? If he had waited and calculated, it would already be too late. He couldn't stand to lose both Raaychila and Jeremy.

The door opened and a woman stood before him. "Vor Wantoro, a Watican spy craft has returned and requests your presence."

"Yes, all right." Wantoro gazed long and hard at Raaychila and squeezed her hand. "I'll find him, don't worry."

Just beyond Raaychila's chambers, spaceship personnel were running every which way. Now and then the spacecraft would rumble as a missile ripped at its exterior shields, steadily taxing the ship's power. Sirens roared.

"This way," said the lady, leading Wantoro down a long hallway. "Just around here." Wantoro turned the corner.

Gillian and Mateo rushed forward. Gillian's makeup was smeared and Mateo's hair looked as though large chunks had been pulled straight out. "Wantoro!" cried Gillian, grabbing his hands. "I've heard they have news about Jeremy! They might know about Maren, too. We're coming with you!"

Together, the party rushed to the lower flight deck. They dipped below a low hanging column and approached a small, parked spy craft. A stunned Wantoro entered, followed by Gillian with Mateo at the rear.

Three men dressed in Watican military uniforms greeted the Vor and led him to the command center in the front compartment. The grid showed pictures taken of the IIU ships, complete with location markers and velocity trackers. The captain of the spacecraft rolled his cursor over the enhanced video feature and began explaining how the rear craft moved to the left and seemed to be falling into a defensive formation. Wantoro narrowed his eyes and was about to speak when a loud thud cracked the back of his skull. The IIU infiltration mission was a success.

The IIU captain quickly handcuffed Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo to the spy craft's cooling unit. Speaking to his accomplices, "Let's take them back to the IIU Mothership. Ms. Fritz will be pleased. Hurry! Secure the hatch!"
PART 2
Chapter 28

Jacey Moon

Maren, now seventeen, tossed her head back and laughed. "I'm not taking a taxi home! I live three blocks away from school." A light drizzle filtered down through the clouds above downtown Manhattan. Maren brushed her blonde tresses from her face, put up her umbrella and started walking.

"Seriously Maren," yelled her friend, "your parents are millionaires, why not just take a taxi?" Maren's friend, a short brunette in a too-tight school uniform, waved her arms. "I'll get us a cab! Come on."

"No thanks." Maren laughed.

"But I want to talk about the after party, Maren you have to go to the after party, I'm begging you!"

"We'll see. Honestly, I'm more excited that Craig was nominated for an award." Maren turned her back to her friend and continued walking.

After waking up in the back of an ambulance in New York City three years ago, Maren's life had changed tremendously. Not only was she diagnosed with post-traumatic amnesia, but Maren had been adopted by celebrity Earth parents Janet and Craig Dern. Tonight marked amomentous occasion for her Earth family and she wanted her adoptive father to win the Velkin Award for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Drama.

When Maren arrived home, she tossed her books in a heap onto the sofa. Maren's adoptive Earth mother, Janet, ran downstairs to greet her daughter, wearing only a towel. Her wide-set, brown eyes scanned Maren up and down.

"I had Blair pull out some things for you to wear tonight. They're on the bed. Make sure to bring your purse and pack some makeup! I know how you like to go au natural, but you never know when the cameras will be on you. And your father's already spoken to Cindy about this season and they want you to have a small role. He can tell you more about it, but you have to be prepared!" Janet grabbed Maren by the shoulders. "Go! Start getting ready! We have five hours!"

Maren held her breath until Janet reached the top of the stairs, and then shook her head. She'd get some reading done first and then dress. Five hours was far too much time to sit around feeling stiff in some undoubtedly uncomfortable dress.

Maren stretched out comfortably on the sofa, reading Wuthering Heights and sipping hot chocolate. She was about to set her cocoa on its coaster when a large black spider scuttled across the coffee table. Maren screamed and the family maid, Blair, rushed downstairs to see what was the matter.

"Spider!" shrieked Maren, accidentally spilling hot chocolate on the sofa and cream-colored carpet. "Kill it! Kill it!"

Blair laughed and collected the spider in a folded-up newspaper. "Good for the bugs," she said, turning towards the apartment patio. She opened the sliding glass door and set the spider down in a potted plant.

"Ms. Maren, you really should start getting ready. I'll clean this." Blair made to spray the carpet with her carpet cleaner.

Maren shook her head. "No, no. I'll get this. My mess. If it were up to me, there'd be a spider carcass mashed into the carpet, too." She smiled and took the cleaning supplies from Blair.

At seven p.m. sharp, the limo pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Donegall Estate. Maren looked out the window and admired the gardens and the cobblestone walking path that wound throughout the property. When at last the limo had parked, a man in a black tuxedo accompanied the family to an amphitheater overlooking a hot spring in the courtyard. The emerald water bubbled and seethed, spitting up steam on the white rocks decorating its boundaries. Behind the hot spring was the main performance space, with velvet green curtains acting as a backdrop. White, yellow, and blue spotlights swirled around the stage as the announcer introduced Ms. Betty Donegall, President of the National Academy of Television.

Ms. Donegall entered amidst applause. She smiled warmly and waved her hand. "Hello and welcome to this year's Velkin Awards Ceremony, celebrating outstanding achievement in television. Please refill your glasses. The wine you're drinking is courtesy of Fallstap Wine Company. Also, don't hesitate to call on our waiters and you'll be served shortly. Tonight we'll be presenting awards in 30 categories; you'll find the list of awards and nominees in your program. But first, to kick off the ceremony, I would like to introduce a very special friend of mine, a young man with exceptional talents, Resident Artist at the Donegall Estate, Jacey Moon." Ms. Donegall smiled and glanced behind her. "Ahem, Jacey Moon!" she repeated, louder.

Maren exchanged anxious glances with her adoptive parents and flipped through her program. The category for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Series was the third award of the evening. The lights dimmed and Maren was forced to place the program on her lap and yield herself entirely to the opening performance.

A single spotlight followed a young man as he entered through the backstage doors wearing a white tux with blue trim. Soft music rose from the orchestra pit, a crescendo growing with each step he took down the staircase. He looked to be about Maren's age, maybe a little older. Arriving at the bottom of the staircase, he swung around the banister. His timing was impeccable, his every movement in sync with the band. A camera swept past him, casting his image on the large television monitors throughout the amphitheater. His eyes were an electric blue. The young man winked as his tenor voice debuted, instantly wooing the crowd. He started out quietly, a smooth sweeping sound, but soon his voice was rising up the scale with increasing intensity. The audience was immediately taken, his vibrato and range seeming to kindle something deep within. A mystery, or was it some universal truth, something familiar. Maren's jaw dropped. Jeremy Chikalto?

Suddenly the orchestra kicked up the tempo and Jacey Moon was singing a new tune, faster and more spritely. He took off his tux jacket, revealing a silver-plated vest, and swung around a pole. Launching forward, he slid on his knees across the stage, only to backflip into an upright position. The crowd cheered as he twirled and spun in time with the orchestra, all while singing, never missing a beat. His movements were seamless and his showmanship was unparalleled. Maren's heart fluttered. Was it really him? Who else could it be?

When the young man finished, he was met with a standing ovation. He didn't remain long on stage, instead bowing swiftly and running out the side doors. The ceremony continued, but Maren's mind remained frozen in time. Last she saw him he was much shorter, surely three years wouldn't mature him quite so much. And yet, it looked just like him: the same electric blue eyes, boyish nose, and crooked smile. Even his singing and dancing had his signature, different in a more mature sort of way, but it had to be Jeremy! Was it so crazy? Maren's hands trembled as she tried to recall her last moments with him. Three years had past since Ms. Fritz promised to take them to a restaurant on Findle. The IIU were there. A gun was held against her head. Jeremy and Lyrna had attempted to fight off the IIU, and then... blackness. Maren awoke in the back of an ambulance on Earth. That's all she could recall. Doctors told her she suffered from amnesia, likely after a traumatic event. The bruises on her shoulders certainly suggested a struggle. Maren eventually dropped her story, succumbing to the pressure of a sound medical explanation, but she never forgot where she came from and who she was. And here he was, the Cajjez, in New York City.

Maren felt someone grip her arm. She looked up at the camera just above the stage and saw herself jump. Everyone was clapping. Maren clapped too. Looking to her left, she saw that her adoptive father was gone and was walking onto the stage. Maren, suddenly in the present, beamed.

"Thank you!" said Craig Dern, accepting the award for Best Actor in a TV Drama. "I can't begin to tell you how much this means to me. A special thanks to my loving wife, Janet, and to our lovely daughter, Maren, both of whom have given me tremendous support these past few years. And thanks to Martha Prestley for your direction and guidance – it's been such a pleasure working with you. And Becket, Becket you're a genius. Thanks to all my co-stars and to the studio, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here. This is such a surprise, I really don't know what to say. Thanks to all my fans, this wouldn't be possible without you. Thank you all!" Bruce lifted his award above his hand and shook it proudly. The music faded as he waltzed back to his seat.

Maren rushed forward to hug him. "Craig!"

Craig laughed as he took his seat.

"Congratulations!"

"Ssshh, okay! Let's, sshh!" Craig leaned back in his seat and wiped his brow. He laughed. Janet gave him one last pat on the back as the next introducers took their spots on the stage.

Maren's mind jumbled again. Between the excitement of her adoptive father winning the award and the excitement of Jeremy Chikalto being in New York, she hardly knew what to think. Her body trembled again as she scanned the audience.

The rest of the Awards Ceremony went by in a whirl. Soon, it was eleven p.m. and guests were filing out in droves.

"Craig, are we going to the after party?" Maren tugged her adoptive father's coat, and then her mother's. "Are we going? Can we go, please?"

"Oh Maren, I don't know. It's getting late." Craig looked down from his towering height and frowned.

"Please? We have to go!"

Craig's mouth twitched into a smile and he laughed. "Of course! You think I wouldn't go to the after party? I have to introduce myself to Ms. Donegall and give my thanks."

"Your father's on the job, Maren. He's got to network," said Janet.

"Tough job, right?" Craig laughed again and led the way down through the aisles and past the hot spring. He pointed to it as he passed and said, "Beautiful, isn't it? They say it just appeared on the property three years ago. Absolutely stunning." Maren and Janet agreed.

One of Ms. Donegall's bouncers opened the stage doors in the back and led the small party through to backstage. Dressing rooms lined the hallway and people were rushing back and forth. Ms. Donegall herself joined Craig, Janet and Maren and led them to the ballroom at her estate. She seemed just as pleased to meet Craig Dern as he was to meet her.

The party was already in motion, with people dancing and chatting over hors d'oevres and drinks. Maren slipped nervously into a bar seat and requested a non-alcoholic Shirley Temple. The bartender laughed and slid the drink her way. Time was of the essence. She had to find Jeremy.

"Janet," said Maren sheepishly. "Do you mind if I wander off a bit? I thought I saw someone I recognized earlier."

"Really?" said Janet, disbelief in her eyes. "Well, certainly you're free to hang with people your own age, don't worry about us. There's a lot of young people over there on the dance floor."

Maren smiled and made off with her Shirley Temple, scanning the crowd for the mysterious Jacey Moon.

She asked after him slowly at first, making her way from one likely go-between to the next. But the more she thought about it, she didn't know if he had a type of friend, per se. She had never met any of his friends before. As she recalled quite sadly, she might have been his only friend, and even that was a stretch. An hour ticked by and Maren was growing nervous. She'd have to approach the one person she knew to have contact with him: Ms. Donegall.

Maren's heart pounded as she got closer to the crowd surrounding the much sought after Ms. Donegall. It was a thick crowd bursting with aggressive social climbers. Everyone wanted a piece of Ms. Donegall. Maren quickly realized that waiting patiently on the outskirts was not going to work.

"Excuse me, Ms. Donegall!" Nothing.

The famed Penelope Jada held Ms. Donegall's attention. Penelope had won an oscar the previous year and was currently making tabloid headlines as a result of her on-again off-again fling with singer-songwriter Marcus Hedger. The actress tossed her long, black hair, blocking Maren from Ms. Donegall's view.

Maren wriggled around to the left. Director George Martin elbowed her in the face. Maren bottled up her fists. "Ms. Donegall! Excuse me, Ms. Donegall!" Tears trickled down her cheeks as she bounced up and down. Now waving her arms, Maren shouted, "Ms. Donegall! Jacey Moon is in trouble! Jacey Moon!"

"What?" Ms. Donegall held up her hand and silenced those around her. She locked eyes with Maren. "What did you just say?"

Everyone turned to look at Maren. "Um," she hesitated. "Well, can I talk to you in private?"

Penelope Jada laughed and threw a nasty look at Maren.

"Yes," said Ms. Donegall to the shock of everyone surrounding her. Ms. Donegall separated herself from her admirers and pulled Maren aside. "What's wrong with Jacey?" she said in a husky voice.

Maren felt a lump forming in the back of her throat. "Well, see, I know him. He's Jeremy Chikalto –"

Ms. Donegall's eyes widened. "Ssh! Please keep it down, young lady! Now what's wrong with Jacey?"

"He, I need to speak with him. He knows me–"

"No, no, no," said Ms. Donegall, shaking her head. "No one goes near him unless I give permission."

"But can't he just see me? As soon as he sees me, he'll know why I've come."

"And why have you come?" said Ms. Donegall.

Maren's lips quivered. She couldn't imagine being this close to Jeremy and not speaking with him. She had so many questions. "Ms. Donegall, I beg you! The last I saw Jeremy or Jacey, I mean, was three years ago and I need to speak with him!"

"Which is exactly why you won't be speaking with Jacey! His name is Jacey!" Ms. Donegall turned away and was about to take a step when she bumped into none other than Jacey Moon. "Jacey!" she said, startled. Ms. Donegall patted down her hair and adjusted her aqua-marine scarf.

"Madame, I was looking all over for you," began Jacey. "Kirsten Azure and her party requested a private performance, and I told them I have off for the evening, but she insisted that you said –" Jacey's eyes rested for a second on Maren and his speech trailed off. Stupefied, he tried to concentrate once more on Ms. Donegall. "I'm sorry, that you said that she could–" He glanced back at Maren who was standing petrified beside Ms. Donegall. "I'm sorry," addressing Maren, "but do I know you from somewhere?"

"Jeremy?" Maren could hardly make the word come out.

Jeremy went quiet, his mouth slightly open. "Maren?" He laughed and flung his arms around her. "Maren! Where did you?" Jeremy took a step back to size her up. "You're beautiful! How? You're not dead!"

"You're not dead!" said Maren, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"But–you're alive!" Jeremy began to wipe away his tears, embracing her once more.

Ms. Donegall adjusted her scarf and cleared her throat. "Ahem! Jacey. JACEY!"

Jeremy ignored her.

"JACEY!" she snapped, finally getting a sideways glance from the Cajjez. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Relax, she doesn't know."

"What don't I know?" said Maren.

"Nothing," said Jeremy.

"Jacey! Will you stop this insanity? Tell me what's going on." Ms. Donegall glared at Maren.

Maren unlocked herself from Jeremy's embrace. "What's going on? Is something going on?"

"Will both of you relax!" Jeremy paced back and forth as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Maren, this is Ms. Donegall. This is her estate and I'm the Resident Artist here." Turning to Ms. Donegall, "And this is Maren Nononia. We go way back. We're childhood friends."

"I go by Maren Dern," whispered Maren.

"And I go by Jacey Moon, as I'm sure you've heard." Jeremy bit his lip.

"Why Jacey Moon?"

"Because–"

"Jacey!" said Ms. Donegall, pulling him back by the shoulder.

Jeremy stumbled and after recovering his balance, he brushed Ms. Donegall's hand off his shoulder. "Relax. She doesn't know about that." Jeremy fixed his gaze on Maren. "And Maren, I can assure you, is smart enough not to ask about what 'that' is because it's obviously making you uneasy and it's really not necessary to inquire about at this time." Jeremy turned back to Ms. Donegall. "Maren, of all people, can best understand why I might be incognito without having to know the exact circumstances. I suspect that she is too, which is why, Ms. Donegall, you have absolutely nothing to worry about." He smiled.

Ms. Donegall sighed. She squinted her eyes as she looked Maren up and down, assessing everything from her wardrobe to her hair style to her posture. Maren's long blonde hair fell in perfect ringlets over her shoulders and her pink satin frock clung to her rail thin body. She might have passed as a model if it weren't for her awkward gait and hunched shoulders.

Maren held her breath, and at last said, "It's true, Ms. Donegall. I won't speak a word of anything."

"Mmhm," said Ms. Donegall, hardly convinced.

"Hello Ms. Donegall. I hope my daughter Maren's not taking up too much of your time." Craig and Janet Dern moved in beside Maren, wine glasses in their hands.

"We were looking all over for you, Maren. We're going to head out soon," said Janet. "And this must be Jacey Moon? A pleasure!" Janet shook Jeremy's hand and Craig did the same.

"Great show tonight, Mr. Moon. I see you've made an impression on our Maren." Craig smiled and winked at Maren.

Maren blushed. "Janet, Craig, can I just have a moment with Jacey?"

"Sure," Craig and Janet exchanged glances and laughed.

"I'll be right back with her," said Jeremy, grinning at a flustered Ms. Donegall.

Jeremy led Maren to his private loft on the top floor. Though the room was small, it was quite large by Manhattan standards, and Maren especially enjoyed the view from the window overlooking Central Park. Everything about the room was decadent, with jewels spilling out of crystal bowls and ornate jewelery displayed on Jeremy's dressers.

"How did you manage to get all this?" said Maren, looking around in awe.

"You're gorgeous," replied Jeremy. He leaned forward and stroked her cheek.

Maren stepped back. "Um, thanks. But seriously, how did you get this?" Maren felt a hot flash spread across her cheeks and forehead.

Jeremy plopped down on his bed. "Because people like me, Maren. Gifts, they're all gifts." He gestured to the jewels.

"Maren!" mewed Lyrna from behind the dresser. Lyrna raced forward and leapt onto Maren's lap.

"I was wondering when Lyrna would wake up," said Jeremy, laughing.

"She's gotten so big!" said Maren.

"I still can't believe we've been living so close to one another." Jeremy gazed intently out his window. "Maren, what happened after I lost you in the Haze?"

"I'm sorry, the Haze?" said Maren, frowning.

"That's what I call the other place. The dead are there, and animals pull them by astral chords. It's purple and black with shades of gray in between. Sometimes there are white patches. It's like swimming through a thick, cool vapor." Jeremy spread his hands out in front of him as though he were painting a picture in the air.

Maren blinked.

"Okay," said Jeremy slowly, "so then what do you remember?"

"That Ms. Fritz and the IIU were going to kill me and then there was blackness followed by light. I awoke in the back of an ambulance with an oxygen mask over my face. Apparently I was cold and had blue fingertips. The paramedics said I'd nearly suffocated. Then I find out I'm on Earth!" Maren pulled at her hair. "So crazy! Please tell me you know what happened? Did Ms. Fritz knock us out? How did she get us here?"

"Ms. Fritz didn't get us here, Maren. I brought us here."

"But then... How?" Maren shook her head.

"The Haze. Nobody can breath in the Haze except for me." Jeremy sat on his bed deep in thought. "I've tried to go back, but I don't know how to enter or exit properly. I'll get in, but then Lyrna can't breath and I'm afraid she'll die, so I pop back out where I've entered. It just keeps going indefinitely. Besides, there's nothing there but death." Jeremy quieted as he thought of his mother.

"What?"

"I can go behind the air and it's something like the spirit world. Like I said, it's purple and black and –"

Maren closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. "Wait. Just wait a second."

"Okay." Jeremy wrapped his arm around Maren and leaned his head on her shoulder. "I can talk about other things, I just thought this was important."

"Jeremy!" Maren stood up and stepped away from the bed. "Have you ever heard of personal space?"

"Have you ever heard of prudery?"

"What?" Maren walked over to the dresser. She leaned against it and began to cry.

"I don't know why you're acting so uptight," said Jeremy.

"Really? I feel like I'm seeing a ghost! I just don't understand." Maren buried her face in her hands.

"Well maybe I am a ghost." Jeremy took off his sandals and massaged his feet.

"You were saying something about an angel before we left," said Maren from behind her hands. She pulled her hands down off her face and stared at Jeremy. She took a deep breath. "That's what you told me before we came to Earth, right? That an angel talked to you?"

"Yes." Jeremy leaned forward and adjusted his sandals so that they sat perpendicular to the bed.

"And then there's something else." Maren blushed. "I remember reading your diary once, not much of it. You wrote about the air twitching and how you put your hand behind it. Something..."

"Ah, so you did read my diary!" Jeremy smiled. "I caught you in your naughty act. It was before the Watican Awards Ceremony."

Maren rubbed her eyes and sniffled, looking out the window. Limos were pulling out of the parking lot in droves.

"Listen, I'll explain later. Right now, I just need some way of contacting you in the future. What's your number and address?" Jeremy grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from his drawer.

Maren wrung her dress with her hands. "212-041-1810, 467 Cardiff Lane, Apt. 11-L, New York, New York. And I know where you–"

"Don't ever come here looking for me," Jeremy snapped. It had the intended effect and Maren froze like a deer in headlights. "I kid. I've missed you so much."

There was a knock on the door. Jeremy looked through the peep hole, sighed, and opened the door.

"I'm here to–"

"Yes, yes," Jeremy waved off the butler. "All right, Maren, it was nice talking with you."

"So?" Maren collected her pocketbook and gave one last look at Lyrna before Jeremy hurried her out the door. "I guess I'll see you later, Jeremy?"

"Maybe." Jeremy winked and closed the door in her face.
Chapter 29

Touch Down

Jeremy's father pressed his face against the window of the IIU spaceship. Three years imprisonment aboard the Intergalactic Intelligence Mothership had given him a rugged, disheveled look and he hardly recognized his own reflection. White fluffy clouds gave way to an expansive blue sky. Within seconds, the cloaked spacecraft landed silently in an enormous cornfield on Earth. IIU personal worked quickly to unload the supplies and prisoners, escorting Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo to a clearing some fifty feet away where the corn stalks already lay withered and trampled. The prisoners watched as IIU personnel effectively disguised the IIU Mothership as a barn and within an hour, the cornfield looked as if it hadn't been the least bit disturbed.

"Welcome to Earth, Vor Wantoro," said Ms. Fritz. IIU General Bentley narrowed his lizard-like eyes and jerked Wantoro's chains forward. Wantoro said nothing and scanned the horizon. Ever since being captured, he, Gillian and Mateo had been promised a reunion with their children. This thought alone fueled Wantoro's subservience.

IIU henchmen Jasmine and Drew pointed their guns at Wantoro's back.

"I thought we were past this," said Wantoro. "Lower your weapons."

Bentley snickered and called to Ms. Fritz. "You think we'll be there by nightfall?"

"Yes, for sure." Ms. Fritz led the group over a hill and to an old, rusty windmill.

"Where are our children and when will we see them," demanded Mateo. The three year journey had stripped him of weight and spirit.

"My dear Mateo," said Ms. Fritz, grinning. "Have some water." She handed each of the prisoners bottled water. "You'll see your children as promised. Have we not been civil to you? Bentley, they are quite ungrateful, don't you think?"

"If they only knew," said Jasmine, "they'd be thankful. Mantel is great. You should be proud to play such a central role in His grand scheme."

"Hush, Jasmine." Ms. Fritz examined Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo. "You'd all be a lot healthier if you'd just stop worrying."

Gillian glowered at Ms. Fritz and shook her chains. "We'd stop worrying if you'd be forthcoming with us. What business do our children have on Earth?"

Ms. Fritz ran her fingernails across the side of the windmill, sending red paint chips fluttering to the ground. "I'm sorry to say, Gillian, but your child Maren has no business being here. She's only a tag along. It's Jeremy we're interested in."

Gillian gnashed her teeth.

Ms. Fritz laughed. "Perhaps it's not water you're wanting, Gillian. Should we mix a cocktail for you?"

"I'd like that actually," snapped Gillian.

"Silence!" Ms. Fritz slicked her hair back. "Bentley, we'll only be taking a few select IIU members with us, so have them ready in ten minutes. Send the rest to the Manor. Mantel's servants await their arrival. As for us," Ms. Fritz pulled out a map and dangled it in front of the prisoners, "we'll be taking a train to New York City. There's a stop just south of here."

"We're taking a train?" Mateo gave a weak smile and jabbed his wife in her side.

"Yes, Mateo, an Earthen train. And you won't be walking around in chains, either, but don't get any funny ideas. Stay close and keep quiet if you want to see your children."
Chapter 30

Memories Past

The limo dropped Maren and her Earth parents off in front of their apartment. The crisp night air stung their cheeks as they edged their way closer to the building.

"Some night," said Craig as he entered the building code into the security system. Maren's adoptive mother, Janet, yawned. Maren remained quiet.

Once they entered the elevators, Janet turned to Maren. "So are you going to tell us about that beautiful boy who swept you off your feet?" She laughed and nudged Maren. "He had amazing eyes."

"Cajjez Jeremy did not sweep me off my feet." Maren frowned and attempted to read the community notice board just above the elevator buttons.

"Cajjez who?" said Janet, knitting her eyebrows together.

"Jeremy Chikalto."

"Is he, is Jeremy Chikalto the friend you recognized earlier?"

Maren wanted the elevator doors to open so she could run to apartment 11-L and lock herself in her room. "Yes. I'm really tired."

"You look upset," said Craig. "I thought his name was Jacey Moon."

"Yes well, I mean Jacey Moon."

Janet exchanged worried glances with Craig. "So he has two names?"

"Stage name, perhaps," said Craig.

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

"Is everything all right? Did he try to do something to you?"

"No! It's not like that, we've known each other since we were kids!" The elevator door opened and Maren ran off towards the apartment. When Craig and Janet caught up, they could see that Maren was visibly shaken. She clenched her purse tightly to her chest and covered her face with her other hand. Once the door to the apartment was opened, Maren sped to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Craig and Janet stared at each other across the dining room table for a long time. Their adopted daughter, Maren, hadn't been able to recall any memories prior to the night the hospital admitted her three years ago. She had been found unconscious on the side of the road in New York City. When Maren regained consciousness, she couldn't account for her whereabouts and there was no record of her name or birth in the social security database. Doctors believed she suffered from amnesia likely caused by a traumatic event. Bruises on her arms and wrists suggested there was a struggle.

"What do you think this means?" Janet reached across the table and clasped Craig's hands. "Do you think she's getting her memories back?"

"I guess so, she said she knew Jacey Moon as a child."

"But she was calling him Jeremy Chikalto."

"Jeremy Chikalto," said Craig slowly, sounding out each letter. "We should contact the doctor. We have to figure out what triggered the memory. We'll put everything in writing that happened this evening." Craig rose from his seat and began to sift through drawers. He located a pad of paper and a pen.

"Craig, let's calm down. It's been a long evening. We can ask Maren about it in the morning."

"What if he hurt her? What if that triggered her memory?" Craig scribbled the name "Jeremy Chikalto" down on the pad of paper.

"Okay, and what if we've all had too much to drink. You saw the place, Maren could have gotten alcohol easily. Kids do stupid things. Let's leave her alone tonight and we'll ask her about it in the morning."

"Janet, you're making excuses. This could be serious. I'm calling the doctor. You know what? I want a background check done on Jeremy Chikalto. I'm calling Steve."

"Craig, it's two in the morning! This is insane."

"What if he hurt her? Or, okay, maybe he didn't hurt her, but what if he's connected somehow to Maren's past?" Craig jabbed a finger in the direction of Maren's room. She was wailing. He picked up the phone and was about to dial.

"Tomorrow, Craig." Janet placed her hand on top of his and guided the phone back to its charger.
Chapter 31

Enchained

There was a knock on the door. Lyrna hissed and ran under the bed. "Jacey, so sorry to interrupt. Ms. Donegall requests a word."

"Of course," said Jeremy. He donned his robe and exited the room.

"Yes, Madame?" said Jeremy as he entered Ms. Donegall's chambers.

"Don't play sweet with me, Jacey!" Ms. Donegall swept past Jeremy and yanked the crystal necklace off his neck. She shoved it into her bra. "Who is this Maren Dern? I've had her checked out and she's had amnesia, too?" She snorted. "Do you know how much I've risked to keep you safe? And this is how you repay me?"

"I told you earlier, she doesn't know about my past."

"Apparently I don't either. I could lose it all, you know! Everything I've worked so hard for, my estate, my career! And all for you. Aiding and abetting a murderer. That's the headline that will ruin me." Ms. Donegall slapped Jeremy's cheek with the back of her hand and then shoved him. He fell back into a love sofa. "Don't associate with anyone from your past. You have all that you need here."

"I barely knew her," he lied. "I'm just memorable is all."

"Remember what would happen to you in prison. You'll be eaten alive in there. You're too pretty, too special. Too soft."

Jeremy shuddered.

"Sing me to sleep."

"I'll need some water. I'm thirsty."

"Later. Now sing." Ms. Donegall opened the canopy to her bed and climbed in. She put on her night cap, a gray streak of hair falling across her forehead, and closed her eyes.

Jeremy felt for the absent necklace around his neck and sighed.

The crow wandered in search of a pyre

to make black its icy dread in the moonless air.

And the volcanos alone burned as beacons,

the habitations of the dead,

dwelling deep in the gloom,

burning as the flames of a watchfire.

Jeremy returned to his room and called Lyrna. She crept out from under the bed and sat on his lap. "We could sneak Maren in here."

"No, we leave," pleaded Lyrna.

"Maren would love it here. I could get Ms. Donegall to buy me room dividers. She couldn't know, of course, she'd never have it. The place is small, but it's comparable to life in the Farmoore Galaxy."

"Not."

"Well, what I mean is, I'm treated like royalty."

"Like fool."

"Do fools get jewelry? Anything they want to eat? Clothes?"

"Like slave."

"A slave? Really? Do slaves get those things?"

"Sing and dance like fool. Whore like slave."

"Shut up, Lyrna."

Lyrna jumped down from his lap and ran under the bed. "Buys you."

"Ms. Donegall protects me. I've killed someone, Lyrna. I could go to prison. It's dirty there. People would hurt me. Don't you care?" Jeremy got down on the floor and peered under the bed.

Lyrna stared.

"I have Maren's address. I'll get her tonight." Jeremy found a black ski mask in his closet. He bent down, and lifted up a loose floorboard. He pulled out a long rope and fastened it to the heater beside the window. "When I get to the stairs next to the building, pull the rope up. Do it quickly. I'll be back in an hour or so." Jeremy grabbed the note with Maren's address and a pearl necklace. "She'll like this."
Chapter 32

At the Gates

"Manhattan," whispered Wantoro. A business man shoved past him. Wantoro rubbed his broad shoulder and frowned. Even after spending three years as prisoner aboard an IIU spacecraft, he was still unaccustomed to being treated without proper respect.

"That's right, New York City." Ms. Fritz pointed to the metro exit. "We're just up here. Ms. Donegall's Estate. Excuse me." Ms. Fritz tapped an older woman's arm. "Do you know where I might find a hot spring in this city?"

The woman looked the party once over with an air of curiosity. "I believe you're looking for Ms. Donegall's, but the Velkin Awards Ceremony is already over."

"Fine, yes, thank you." Ms. Fritz clapped her hands. "Bentley, Mantel is close!"

Together, Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo were led up the stairs and out onto the bustling sidewalks just outside Grand Central Station. It was the dead of night, but the city was as lively as ever. Wantoro was impressed. So many people. So many lights. He stood to his full stature of 6'4 and gazed at the pedestrians walking past. Many seemed to notice him, too. He was a handsome man, after all, and looked to be surrounded by body guards. Also there was his loud, unkempt beard.

Ms. Fritz's excitement reached a feverish pitch and her hair never seemed to be quite slick enough to endure the final leg of the journey. Every block or so, she would redo her bun, taking her hair out of its rigid coil only to recoil it more rigidly. After the party had walked six blocks, her pace finally slackened.

"The entrance should be around here somewhere." Ms. Fritz squinted at the buildings across the street.

Gillian Nononia clung to Mateo. "What do you suppose Maren looks like now? Do you think we'll recognize her?"

"I'm sure she looks like you, stunningly beautiful."

"Oh, Mateo." Gillian went to go slap his belly but instead smiled at its lack. "You really should try to keep the weight off this time."

Wantoro turned away and watched a yellow taxi swerve around a group of teenagers. Maren's parents had their highs and lows but at least they had each other. He feared the moment when Jeremy would realize Raaychila was missing. Wantoro hoped to be spared breaking the news of Raaychila's coma right away. He yearned to see his son alive and well, a familiar smile spread across his face.

"Beautiful property." Jasmine interrupted his musings and darted forward to the heavy gates. "Pretty tight security system."

"Not a problem," said Ms. Fritz. They had arrived at the Donegall Estate. Ms. Fritz walked to a tree just left of the entrance and inserted her hand into a hollow opening, extracting a set of duplicate keys. Next, she entered a security code into the key box. A speaker buzzed her in as she opened the gates with her key.
Chapter 33

The Break-In

Jeremy stood in front of 467 Cardiff Lane, Maren's address. It was a large apartment building with security guards at the main entrance. Because it was 3:30 am, Jeremy decided to try a side entrance where he might escape notice. Maybe he should just wait until morning? No, he couldn't wait that long to see Maren. The side entrance looked promising. He needed a security code. Jeremy pulled his hand from his pocket, looked around to make sure he was alone, and palmed the security code box.

Concentrate. Jeremy closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. His consciousness drifted between the physical plane and the Haze. A current began to flow into his hand. With a crackle, electricity surged from his hand and fried the security box. Jeremy opened the door and smoothed his upright hair back down. While he didn't have much control over the intensity of the energy, he knew how to produce it. He slipped inside the building.

The elevator took him to the 11th floor, and he found Maren's apartment. Should he knock? Pick the lock? The latter was more exciting. Jeremy took his shoes off and put them in his bag. Next, he scrounged in his pockets for potential lock picks and settled on a credit card.

Jeremy pulled a black ski mask over his face and slipped the card between the door and the wall, easily pushing the bolt back into its socket. No deadbolt? They're just inviting burglary. He crept through the living room until he came to a closed bedroom door. He heard Maren sobbing. He took a deep breath and burst into the room. Maren yelped, but Jeremy immediately stifled her mouth with his hand. Jeremy unmasked himself and grinned.

"Come with me." Jeremy hugged her and pulled her to her feet.

"Jeremy, what's wrong with you!"

Jeremy pulled the mask back over his face and hoisted Maren over his shoulder.

"Jeremy, put me down!" Maren kicked about, smacking him on the back.

"Quiet!" Jeremy rushed through the apartment with surprisingly little noise, Maren slung over his shoulder. He set her down in the hallway outside her apartment and eased the door shut. He grabbed her hand and led her recklessly down the stairs. When at last they arrived at the exit to the apartment building, Maren came to a halt, catching her breath.

"What was that about!"

Jeremy took off his mask and then took his shoes from his bag and slipped them back on his feet. "I'll explain later, we have to get out of here." He held the door open and motioned for her to hurry up.

The two ran together for some time, weaving in and out of New York City pedestrian traffic. At last they slowed.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Maren panted.

Jeremy laughed. "I don't know, but wasn't it a rush?"

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted to take you to my place. I'm not allowed out during the day, or during the night for that matter, but I have my ways."

"You broke into my apartment. What if my parents heard you?"

"Your parents?" Jeremy frowned. "You mean that older couple you came to the party with?"

"They adopted me and consider me to be their daughter. If they realize I'm missing, they're going to call the police! And why did you wear a mask?"

"Just in case. But listen, Maren, can you stop drawing attention to yourself? I'm trying to keep a low profile."

"Yeah, because breaking into my apartment in a black ski mask and kidnapping me instead of calling is so covert."

Jeremy smiled.

"My apartment building has cameras. You broke into my apartment. And didn't you just give a performance for the Velkin Awards Ceremony? That's just like you, Jeremy. You haven't changed one bit. Can you not get past your own self-centered distortion of reality?"

"Maren, your character is all out of sorts," said Jeremy, looking baffled.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Maren frowned. How could someone lack so much self-awareness?

"Cute pajamas."

Maren looked down. She was wearing her yellow chick fleece pajamas. "Okay, Jeremy," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You're insane, you know that? And I'm insane for going along with you because you're going to end up in jail. Please tell me what's so important that it couldn't wait 'til tomorrow?"

"We have to be together," said Jeremy. He shrugged.

"That's all?"

"I could lie."

"Jeremy, don't." Maren frowned and watched as a police car sped by. "I'll go with you not because I believe you but because you 're completely out of your mind and I need to help you clean up your mess. That said, we're on the clock. I'm going home in an hour."

"Thank you Maren, that's very matronly of you." Jeremy smiled and started walking again. Maren chased after him.

Jeremy and Maren arrived at the estate and Jeremy quickly typed in the security code and opened the gates. The property was in pristine condition. They walked along the cobblestone path past the gardens.

"You'd never think there was a party here only a few hours ago," said Maren, staring off into the distance.

"Ms. Donegall wouldn't have it any other way."

"Do you like her?" asked Maren.

Jeremy kicked a stone and put his hands in his pockets. "No."

"But she is your Earth mother?"

"No. I'm the Resident Artist here. She took me in about three years ago. Loves me, of course."

"What happened to you before then?"

"I robbed a family of something precious to them."

"Did you use your ski mask?" Maren smiled.

"No." Jeremy paused in front of a flowerbed and gazed distractedly at the yellow blossoms. In another week they'd reach full bloom. "I almost forgot." Jeremy shuffled through his pockets and pulled out a pearl necklace. He presented it to Maren. She laughed.

"Where did you get this? One of your gifted jewels?"

"Yes, but it's made for a lady." Jeremy watched eagerly as she clasped it around her neck. "Doesn't it make you feel good?"

Maren blushed. "Yes, I suppose it does bring back memories."

"It just makes me happy sometimes, you know? It reminds me of being on Watico."

Maren stepped off the path and admired a rose bush. Its soft, pink petals had collected dew. She caught a whiff of its perfume. "Jeremy, what was it like to have the entire Farmoore Galaxy at your beck and call?"

Jeremy laughed and joined her by the rose bush. "It wasn't like that. People hated me."

"They did not."

"They did."

Maren knew he was right. Jeremy was unpopular. But everyone had a high opinion of his art, and young girls, especially, enjoyed his appearance.

"Why do you think people disliked you?" Maren avoided his gaze.

"Because I have a temper. I'm vindictive, paranoid." Jeremy shrugged.

"Well at least you're capable of moments of clarity." Maren smiled at Jeremy and took to the path again. This time, he chased after her.
Chapter 34

Wanted

Maren wasn't answering her phone. Craig Dern dialed 911.

"State your name and location."

"Craig Dern. 467 Cardiff Lane, Apt. 11-L, New York, NY." "What's the problem, sir?"

"My house was broken into and someone kidnapped my daughter, Maren Dern! His name was Jeremy Chikalto or Jacey Moon! He took my daughter!"

"Sir, please calm down. Did you see the suspect?"

"I didn't see him, but I heard my daughter yell his name. I was in my bedroom. He's a young man, around eighteen years old, and I saw him at the Donegall Estate last night. He went by the name Jacey Moon, but my daughter mentioned that he's Jeremy Chikalto. He has golden brown hair, he's tall, around six foot. Bright blue eyes, thin. She said his name, I know it's him!"

The operator typed something into his computer. "Jeremy Chikalto. We have him on file, a missing person report. Wait, he's a murder suspect. At the Donegall Estate, you said?"

Bruce stood up, knocking his chair back. "Murder?!"

"Murder?!" cried his wife.
Chapter 35

The Hot Spring

Lyrna lay on the window ledge looking out at the streetlight across the street. An hour had passed and Jeremy hadn't returned. She jumped down and busied herself with her food dish – halibut garnished with rosemary – when she heard a scream from down the hallway.

"Jacey! Jacey! Get up! The police are looking for you! Oh my dear sweet Jacey!"

The room flashed red and blue. Sirens sounded in the distance. Lyrna puffed and jumped back up on the window ledge. Two police cars skidded around the street corner towards the Donegall Estate. Lyrna mewed and ran the length of the room, not knowing quite what to do. She felt helpless. Lyrna gave one last mew and leapt out the window. She'd have to find Jeremy.

Lyrna ran along the cobblestone path to the garden pavilion. On her one side was the stone wall of the Donegall Mansion, weathered and covered in ivy; on her other, the exterior stone wall and thick bushes. She approached the pavilion and her fur stood on end. The hot spring bubbled before her. The perimeter of the pool was lined with white stones, and the pool itself was full of steaming, stinking green fluid. A dark shadow fell on the pool. Lyrna heard a familiar voice.

"Look who it is! My favorite pet. Lovely little creature, this fizdruft." Ms. Fritz was now hovering over the hot spring. The IIU, Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo emerged from behind a bush. "Where's Jeremy?"

"Lyrna!" Wantoro jerked forward but was held back by the IIU.

Lyrna puffed and hissed. "Wantoro?"

"Lyrna," shouted Wantoro. "Where is my son? Is he here?"

"And Maren!" cried Gillian.

Ms. Fritz smiled. "Excellent question Wantoro. Tell us, fizdruft, where is Jeremy?"

Lyrna growled.

"But wait, here's the man of the hour, and what a fine young man!" Ms. Fritz clapped her hands together and laughed as Jeremy emerged from behind the amphitheater. He was tall now with a boyishly handsome face, and the start of a trim, muscular build. His large, blue eyes glinted in the moonlight and his brow raised slightly in alarm. Maren followed, thin with wavy blonde hair and sharp cheekbones.

Jeremy and Maren locked eyes with their parents. "Father?" Jeremy stumbled forward.

Bentley raised his weapon. "Let me demonstrate why you should do as we say." He aimed it at a small shrub and shot a conical stream of fire, igniting the shrub and quickly turning it into a pile of ashes.

"Incinerator. Very dangerous." Bentley narrowed his eyes and pointed the weapon at Maren.

"People, please. I know things are heating up, but let's proceed in an orderly fashion," said Ms. Fritz, savoring her pun. "Bentley, you can lower your weapon. Jeremy, Maren, as you can see we've brought your parents. Jeremy, it seems you did not follow orders and seek out Mantel. He is here now, right in front of us." Ms. Fritz pointed to the bubbling sulfur pool. "Let us step into his pool." Ms. Fritz hungrily examined the crack in the ground. Steam rose from the crevice. "It's ready." She stepped behind Gillian, and Jeremy and Maren watched in horror as Ms. Fritz hit Gillian's back flush with both palms. Gillian teetered and then stumbled into the pool, her scream fading into the hole. The ground shook. "Perfect!" yelled Ms. Fritz as Maren started to bawl.

Wantoro realized his window to do anything helpful was rapidly closing. Suddenly, he elbowed the nearest captor in the chin, making him drop his gun. The IIU scrambled for it, but Wantoro got there first. He pointed the gun at Ms. Fritz.

"Let's make a trade," Wantoro said to Bentley. "You let us get a head start, and Ms. Fritz gets to keep her head."

Unfortunately, Bentley already had his gun trained on Jeremy. "Get in the pool, Wantoro. Fritz is expendable and she knows it. That's part of the deal."

Ms. Fritz grimaced and held her breath.

Wantoro knew he had lost. He dropped the gun and looked at Jeremy, tears welling up. "Goodbye, son." At last he stepped into the pool, the steam quickly enveloping him. Two IIU members shoved Mateo in after him.

Jeremy and Maren cried out. They ran towards the IIU, Jeremy aiming his hands at Bentley's chest. Two blue currents shot out, throwing Bentley backwards.

Ms. Fritz motioned for the IIU to close around the pool. "Jeremy, Maren! If you want to see your parents again, you must trust me and jump into the pool! Here is not death, but life! Come, everyone, into the pool!" Ms. Fritz disappeared into the Earth.

Just then, a police officer rounded the corner. "He's over here!" A few more appeared, weapons drawn. "Everyone, put your hands in the air! Do not attempt to run. We will fire if necessary!"

The remaining IIU members grabbed Jeremy's arms and he grabbed Maren's. A police officer fired a shot at an IIU member's thigh. The IIU all at once jumped into the sulfur pool. Jeremy pulled his arm away from the clench of the IIU before they disappeared into the ground. The ground rumbled.

"Step away from the pool with your hands up!" The police closed in.

"We have to go into the pool. Maren, please!"

Maren shook her head. Jeremy took her hands, interlocked his fingers with hers, and faced her. "Maren, please."

"But the police," her voice trailed off as she looked into his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Jeremy threw himself and Maren into the pool and Lyrna followed.

The police exchanged bewildered looks and crept towards the hot spring. The bubbling green liquid seethed. The bottom of the pool, if there was one, was not visible.

"We're going to need some backup," said an officer into his radio.
Chapter 36

Mantel's Maze

The instant their bodies touched the scalding water, steam, not bubbling green sulfur, enveloped them. This too came to pass, and within seconds, Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna were free falling in a tunnel. And they were dry. Even more miraculous, they weren't falling so much as they were rapidly floating downward, as if there were an invisible counter-force to gravity. Jeremy blinked and looked around him. The tunnel was formed out of various kinds of rock and soil, and patches of it would inexplicably light up and go dark at random intervals. Every now and then, a chill came over his body.

"Maren, stop screaming. Maren!"

"Huh?" Maren stopped screaming and opened her eyes. "What's going on?" She looked at Jeremy and then at the tunnel wall floating past.

"We're going to be okay."

"Okay?!"

"I've seen some weird things these past couple of years. Trust me, this is fine. We're going to get through this." Jeremy looked down. Blackness. He swallowed.

"Hello," said a wheezing voice from above. It laughed and was joined by the squeal of another.

"Who said that?" Maren pulled Jeremy closer to her. Lyrna slipped in between the two of them and shivered.

"So cold!" said Lyrna.

"Look who's falling from grace." A ghost emerged from the gloom and circled the party. It was white and wispy with long fingers and a sunken face. It's mouth was huge and grinning. "Do you see this?"

"Poor fledglings!" said another, fatter ghost, as it popped out of the stone. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna screamed in unison.

"They usually come in through volcanos, don't they? We should take them to the catacombs!"

"We mustn't meddle!" said the fat ghost, suddenly serious. "The others went to the Heart, maybe he wants them?"

"I must say, graveness does not become you!"

At that, the two ghosts burst into laughter and whizzed about. The thinner ghost went straight through Maren. She gasped.

"What, what are these things," whispered Maren, drawing Jeremy and Lyrna closer to her.

"We're lost souls. Unsorted, as they say. Ghosts. But all the better, we'd have gone to hell." The two ghosts disappeared back into the walls of the tunnel and Jeremy, Maren and Lyrna landed softly on a stone floor.

"Jeremy!" said Maren. "Ghosts! Where do you think..."

"I don't know." Jeremy looked around. Torches lined the walls of stone corridors and showed hundreds of coffins stacked vertically, fitted into the walls, and covered in cobwebs. The air was damp and cold. "We didn't smash to bits on the ground, so let's just relax."

"Relax! Do you know what's going on? Is this part of your twitchy air, angel thing? Remind me again why we jumped into a boiling pool!" Maren gasped and spun around, half-expecting to see a corpse rise from the nearest tomb. She managed to kick up a thick layer of dust and went into a coughing fit.

"We have to save our parents. Stop fidgeting please. I never told you this, but before we left Watico, Ms. Fritz told me in private that an angel spoke to her, and that I was supposed to go somewhere. I think this is where I'm supposed to be."

"So what, Ms. Fritz is your ally now?"

"Of course not." Jeremy stepped forward and brushed aside some cobwebs on the nearest tomb. The tomb felt ice cold.

"Don't touch it!"

Jeremy leaned forward and read aloud the inscription:

Here lies the remains of Dennis O'Leary.

After haunting Fairview Gardens, the scene of his murder, Dennis gave his soul to Mantel in a fine duck sauce with roasted chestnuts.

Jeremy shuddered and turned to see Maren's reaction. She had resigned herself to a cautious silence. He read the inscription on the next tomb:

Here lies the remains of Anne Sanders.

After searching the entire Eastern seaboard for her son Joseph's plane, Anne gave her soul to Mantel stuffed with cabbage.

"Let's get out of here," whispered Maren.

"Door," said Lyrna.

There was a break in the arrangement of coffins and a wooden door a few steps away. Jeremy made his way to the door and motioned for the others to follow. Right before he touched the rusted handle, his foot landed on a raised tile and a loud click came from somewhere above. Lyrna hissed. Maren was the first to look up.

"Jeremy, watch out!"

Jeremy looked up and saw white and gray debris falling fast towards him. He jumped back as dust and ash filled the room.

"Jeremy, are you okay?" cried Maren between coughs.

"Yeah! What...?" Jeremy waved his hand in front of his face and squinted through the dust. On the floor in front of him lay a pile of human remains. "Oh, God!" Jeremy gagged.

"What? What is it!"

"Skeletons, Maren. We have to get out of here."

"Skeletons!" she shrieked.

"Door here!" Lyrna clawed at the large wooden door, eager to depart. Maren rushed forward and pushed the door open. Light flooded into the catacombs. Jeremy followed and slammed the door closed behind him.

The room was ten by fifteen feet, and had a torch in each corner and six more doors. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna walked slowly across the stone floor.

"Which one?" asked Maren.

Jeremy shrugged and opened the closest door. Behind it was a wall of stone. He tried the next door. Behind it was a steep, dark staircase. Something up the stairs moaned. Jeremy shut the door.

"Maren, why don't you try the next one," he said.

Maren stiffened and walked to the next door. "There were... ghosts." She stood in front of the door for a long time, grabbing its handle, releasing it, and grabbing it again.

"Just do it," goaded Jeremy.

Maren flung the door open and jumped back. There was a dark corridor with a single door at the end. Green smoke seeped through the crack between the floor and the door.

"Let's just get this over with," said Jeremy. He picked up Lyrna and walked down the corridor.

Maren raced down the corridor after him. "Wait! How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not 'so sure,' I'm decisive. Do you want your parents back?"

Lyrna batted at Jeremy's ear. "Scared!"

Their hesitation only made Jeremy want to move faster.

Jeremy inched closer to the door. He grabbed the handle, pulled, and –

"You're out of the catacombs," said the thin ghost, rising slowly from a pool of bubbling green liquid. "I was hoping you'd join us."

Lyrna wriggled free from Jeremy's arms and ran back to Maren, who clung to the wall just beside the door.

Jeremy cautiously made his way to a stone seat beside the pool. He looked down into the pool and saw the wispy silhouette of the fatter ghost haunting the depths.

"Okay, we're here now. Is there something you wanted to tell us?" Jeremy shuddered as the thin ghost rose in the air. A flash of red lit up the black of the ghost's eyes.

"When I said I was hoping you'd join us, I meant I was hoping you'd die."

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the fat ghost whose head popped up out of the water.

"Don't look so alarmed," said the fat ghost, winking. "We were rooting for you."

"We thought if your ghosts made it out of the catacombs, at least your trace would have weakened."

Jeremy's heart beat fast in his chest. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"When you die down here, you attract demons," said the thin ghost. "The trace of a life departed is strongest at the scene of death. Demons like fresh souls. We don't want to be around when that happens."

"What is this place?" asked Jeremy. He looked behind him at Maren and Lyrna. Both were still as stone. A torchlight flickered.

"This place," said the thin ghost, "is Mantel's Maze."

Jeremy blinked. "Mantel. I'm supposed to locate him for some reason. Do you know what he wants from me?"

The thin ghost dove from the air and hovered in front of Jeremy's face. "Hmm, can't say for sure. He's always cooking up some plan or another."

The fat ghost stifled a laugh. "You seem like well-seasoned adventurers with... juicy stories."

"I've read the epitaphs!" snapped Jeremy. "Are you saying he wants to eat me?!" Jeremy leapt up from the stone seat. The thin ghost flew in front of him.

"Wait," began the thin ghost. "He wants to see you specifically? You're sure about that?"

Jeremy nodded. "But why would he want to eat me?"

The ghost smiled. "He wants to eat us all. Anyway, it's considered an honor. I'd rather be a ghost, of course, but some souls yearn to be consumed."

Jeremy looked at Maren and Lyrna to see how they were settling in with this news. Neither spoke, but both locked eyes with Jeremy.

"Okay," said Jeremy slowly, "and why would the souls yearn to be consumed?"

"Be careful!" warned the fat ghost, suddenly serious. "We really shouldn't meddle! Mantel was going to take them to the Heart! We shouldn't have brought them here. You heard it, Mantel wants this guy for something, these aren't your average mountaineers!"

"M-mountaineers?" Maren stammered, pushing her stringy blonde hair behind her ears. A droplet of water fell from the dank stone ceiling and landed on her nose, causing her to jump.

The thin ghost smiled. "The living tend to enter through volcanoes. The dead are summoned."

"Let's take them to the Heart!" shouted the thin ghost.

"Please," said Maren, "tell us why souls want to be eaten by Mantel?"

The thin ghost flew in front of Maren and inspected her. "Mantel is great," whispered the thin ghost with an air of secrecy. "You become a part of Mantel and make him greater. He feeds on souls and that's how he gets his power. It's a sacrifice for the greater good."

"You really shouldn't have said that," said the fat ghost, shaking his head.

"I'm done! This way."

Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna followed the ghosts through the next door and down another long, dark corridor lit by torches. Lyrna sniffed at a large crack that ran along the base of the wall, and paused to inspect a gaping hole in the stone.

"Hurry up, Lyrna," said Jeremy, motioning for her to join him.

"Eyes," whispered Lyrna, her ears flattened.

Jeremy and Maren shuddered, not wanting to know more.

At last they arrived at a rusty metal door with Hebrew scratched onto its surface. Jeremy opened the door. The room was ill-lit and smelled like rotting flesh. A corpse was slumped up against the side of the wall. Maren gasped and jumped back. Jeremy turned away and gagged.

"See? A mountaineer," sneered the thin ghost.

"Who did this to her? Did Mantel do this?" asked Jeremy with one hand still hovering over his nose.

"Could have been the giants, or any one of the warlocks. Maybe Ekoto. Likely some abomination."

"Or Mala'pez." The fat ghost shuddered upon saying the name. Even the thin, bolder ghost shrank back in fear.

"Mala'pez?" It worried Jeremy that ghosts could fear something. What could be worse than getting eaten by Mantel?

"It's a demon," said the thin ghost. "Not the one that haunts the catacombs. This one's faster. I've seen it myself around this level of the Maze." The thin ghost noted the utter incomprehension spread across Maren's features and added, "Demons sometimes come in disguised as ghosts. They escape hell and come here. But when a demon eats a ghost, the ghost goes straight to hell."

The fat ghost leaned forward. "When you die down here, we recommend the catacombs. Demons love fresh souls, and as my friend pointed out earlier, your ghost has the best chance of, er, surviving if you perish in the catacombs."

Jeremy cast his eyes to the ground.

"Because of the slow demon."

"I get it!" Jeremy grabbed Maren by the arm and pulled her to his side.

The thin ghost nodded and opened another door. The sound of chains tightening and slackening echoed into the room.

The thin ghost turned around and whispered to the fat ghost, "I think Belvdor is sleeping."

Maren retreated. "Who... what's that?"

"Belvdor," said the thin ghost, "is one of Mantel's abominations. Mantel experiments with building new souls out of soul remains."

Just then, they heard a deep-voiced incantation from behind them. The ghosts' deep, sunken eyes flashed red and their jaws dropped, revealing a blackness within. "It's the demon Mala'pez!" cried the thin ghost. "Sorry! You're on your own!" The two ghosts vanished behind a wall.
Chapter 37

Diabolus Mos Eat Vos

Lost Animus

"Mala'pez! The, the fast demon?" Maren quaked from head to toe. She peaked her head into the room with the abomination, and then retreated. "So two choices." Maren took a deep breath. "We can go forward and attempt to get past this monster, or we can retreat and risk running into, er, Mala'pez."

"I say we run past Belvdor. It's chained down so we stand a chance."

"What if we pass it but the door is locked?" Maren scooted her back against the wall until she brushed up against Jeremy.

"I check." Lyrna licked Jeremy's hand. "Small, quick."

Mala'pez groaned from somewhere behind them.

"Okay, Lyrna. But be careful." Jeremy and Maren anxiously watched as Lyrna entered the abomination's chamber. The creature was the size of an elephant, and its skin was a dappled arrangement of fur and scales. It looked like a cross between a wolverine and a Komodo dragon, except more lethal. Lyrna scurried across the floor, slinking low to the ground. The abomination's large, leathery tail whipped. Lyrna jumped back, narrowly missing the abomination's back paw. The door was five feet away.

Lyrna looked back at Jeremy and Maren in the doorway.

Jeremy nodded in encouragement.

Lyrna turned towards the door and crept forward. Suddenly the abomination's tail flicked and landed on Lyrna's back. Her feline instincts got the best of her and she hissed and spat indignantly, immediately regretting it. Belvdor, finally noticing the small, furry intruder, rattled its chains, stood upright on its paws, and bared its butcher-knife teeth. Slime oozed out the side of its mouth and its red, slitted pupils rolled to the back of its head.

Belvdor leaned its massive head forward and snorted. Lyrna leapt into the air and gave Belvdor's nose a nice scratch before running back to the room with the corpse. Belvdor snarled and howled, its voice resembling metal scraping metal. The monster surged against its chains, which strained and snapped, and lunged forward.

"Quick, close the door!" shouted Maren.

"Just go!" Jeremy shoved Maren forward. He felt Belvdor's hot, rancid breath on his back and turned around; his hand crackled and generated a white orb, and he hurled a lightening bolt at the abomination's chest. Belvdor stumbled back against the wall, roared, and then raged forward. Jeremy ran through the doorway and slammed the door closed. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna raced down the corridor and through the first door on the left. To their horror, they realized the demon Mala'pez's otherworldly incantations were growing louder. Jeremy flung the next door open. "Down here!"

The door opened to a descending staircase. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna scrambled down the stairs. When they got to the base of the stairs, they quieted. Maren's hands fumbled for Jeremy. The room was so dark, her eyes had trouble adjusting. "Do you hear it?" she whispered.

"Ssh!" Jeremy looked up. A faint light trickled in from behind the door at the top of the staircase. The demon's incantations were coming from above. The sound was foreign and had so much bass it made the stones beneath their feet vibrate.

"DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA."

"Jeremy! It's Latin." Maren lowered herself to the ground. "Our souls, it wants our souls!"

Jeremy flinched. The incantation was getting louder.

"It's coming down the stairs! We have to move!" Maren sprang up and rushed forward into the blackness. She banged against something and fell.

"Maren?" Jeremy felt around in front of him.

"DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA."

"I think I'm bleeding," cried Maren.

"Light!" mewed Lyrna. Jeremy felt her claws sink into his leg.

"I know, I can't see!"

"No, lightening!"

"Ah!" Jeremy crept in the darkness towards where Maren had fallen. He held one hand out in front of him to prevent a collision and brought the other up over his head. Concentrate. A blue spark danced in his hand. He shot it up to the ceiling. The temporary bright blue light revealed that Maren had tripped over a rusty stone brick oven. She rose to her feet. "What is that!?"

"DIABOLUS ERO ALIVE ITERUM. DIABOLUS MOS EAT VOS LOST ANIMUS. REDEO UT VERSUS INCENDIA."

"Again!" said Lyrna.

Jeremy produced another ball of electricity and held it in his palm, his face tense with concentration. Lyrna ran forward.

"Here! Room."

Maren and Jeremy followed Lyrna. The next room was lit by torches and Jeremy allowed the electricity in his palm to fizzle.

"How did you do that?" Maren stood gaping at Jeremy.

He yanked her forward and ran.

After opening and closing some fifteen odd doors, Jeremy collapsed onto the floor. Maren and Lyrna curled up beside him and there they remained for some time, quiet and fearful lest some new creature should stumble upon them. The room was small and plain, with stone tiles and walls and three wooden doors. A lamp was placed beside the smallest door just in front of them.

"I think we're safe here," said Jeremy.

"Lightning. You made lightning." Maren stared in wonder at Jeremy's hand.

"Aye."

"I guess all that air twitching paid off?" She smiled weakly but then sniffled.

"How's your cut?" asked Jeremy, feeling strangely protective.

"It's not too bad." She lifted up her pajama bottoms to reveal a small gash just below her knee. "I need to clean it. At least it stopped bleeding."

Jeremy stood up and stretched. There was a stitch in his side. "Yeow, I'm thirsty."

"We're going to die," said Maren morosely.

"We're not going to die, Maren." There was an edge to his voice. "We just have to get to the Heart."

"This is a maze, it's not like if we keep opening and closing doors we'll get there!"

"I toffee," said Lyrna sadly. She sniffed the floor in vain.

"I'd like some toffee too." Maren stood up and attempted to slap the dust and grime from off her chick pajamas. "So we're here because Mantel wants to eat you?"

"We don't know that."

"Well then what do you know?"

"Mantel. I'm in a maze underground. He builds mazes and eats souls... demons float around here. Hell if I know." Jeremy walked over to the door with the lamp beside it and opened it. The room looked much the same as the others, with four identical wooden doors, and stone floors and walls. "Pick one."

Maren rubbed her eyes and sighed. "That one." She pointed to one of the doors and Jeremy opened it. An old man in rags was standing up against the door and toppled over.
Chapter 38

Circle of Wisdom

"Pardon me!" yelled the old man from the floor.

Jeremy helped the old man to his feet and eyed him curiously. The old man wore what could pass as a potato sack with holes in it, and had white, stringy hair that sprouted everywhere.

"That's right, I'm no demon. Name's Fedonis." The old man shuffled over to a makeshift stand set up in the corner of the room. Jars of potions and talismans lined the shelves. He grabbed a comb from off his wooden counter and yanked it through his thin, stringy white hair. "Damn humidity," he mumbled. "So what will it be today, hrm?" He grinned a toothless smile.

Lryna was the first to run up to the stand. "Water? Food?" She hopped from paw to paw.

"Don't know where the oasis is located, hrm? It's a map you'll be needing!"

Jeremy and Maren exchanged looks and joined Lyrna by the stand.

Fedonis rustled through a drawer and pulled out an aged map. The map was made of tan hide and large chunks were missing, as though it had been chewed. "Get you all around! Get you to your oasis, this will. What do you have for me?"

Jeremy frowned. "I'm not sure I understand you. Do you... accept credit cards?"

"Credit what?" The old man leaned across the counter and gave Jeremy a great sniff. "Let's see it."

Repulsed, Jeremy took a step back and pulled his credit card from his wallet. He pushed it across the counter, missing the old man's extended hand on purpose. Maren kicked Jeremy's foot disapprovingly.

The old man grabbed the credit card and examined it with a magnifying glass. "What does it do, exactly?"

"You can buy anything you want with it. It's linked to a bank. I have a $20,000 credit limit with Manhattan Bank."

"$20,000!" gawked Maren.

"Manhattan bank? Where's that?" asked the old man, who was examining the thickness of the card.

"Manhattan, New York... Earth–"

"It's an Earth thing?"

"Er, yes."

"I'll take it!" Fedonis shoved the card into his pocket and held the map out to Jeremy.

Jeremy winced at losing so precious a commodity, but accepted the map.

"Now that map's only local, shows a couple levels, of course. But what else will it be? Have lupin spine? I got the cure for you right here!" He dangled a red-orange potion in Maren's face.

Maren held up her hand to push the potion away from her face. "I was wondering if you could answer a couple of questions for us."

"What, so it's information you're wanting? Ah!" The old man bustled out from behind his makeshift storefront and ambled over to another corner of the room, where he sat up on a wooden stool and placed a blue, pointy wizard's hat upon his head. "Welcome, welcome, to Fedonis the Hermit's Circle of Wisdom.

"But –"

"Ah, ah, ah, young man. You must answer my riddle correctly and then you may ask me anything you'd like." The old man whistled his own theme song, holding up a finger and retreating it only after the whistled song reached its conclusion.

Jeremy's heart was softened by this amiable display of insanity and he laughed aloud. "Let's hear the riddle."

The old man cracked his knuckles and gave each of his guests a serious stare in turn. "Visit my family tree and you'll see cousins of brown and black. I am white and naked, with lots of fur along my back. What am I? Teehee."

Maren recited the riddle again. She motioned for Jeremy and Lyrna to join her in the center of the room.

"Fur like animal," said Lyrna hopefully.

"Yes, I think it's an animal. Something to do with a family tree."

"Monkeys?" offered Lyrna.

"Black monkeys, chimps. Um..." Maren looked to Jeremy.

"Aren't there monkeys with naked asses?" He smiled.

"Yes, very mature," said Maren. "One species is snow monkeys."

"That makes sense."

Maren considered this. "It does, but to say the snow monkey is naked except for the fur on its back seems imprecise."

"Yeah, but maybe its whole underside is naked. It's a riddle, Maren, it's not rocket science. There's word play, puns–"

"Puns! A polar bear?"

"Huh?"

"There're brown bears and black bears," said Maren. "It's white and naked, which is another way of saying it's bare, or a bear, and it's furry!"

"But what about the family tree thing"

Maren walked up to Fedonis and stood in front of his stool. "The answer is polar bear."

"Are you sure?" asked the old man, touching the top of his hat and glaring his best glare.

"Yes, polar bear."

"Correct." He whistled his theme song.

Jeremy and Lyrna joined Maren in front of the hermit and waited patiently for the song's conclusion.

When at last the song concluded, Fedonis wagged his finger. "Ah, ah then. Let's have the question."

"Who or what is Mantel?" said Jeremy, stepping forward.

"Who or what is Mantel," repeated the hermit, drawing out the letters as though he were tasting each one. "Mantel was once a soul, like so many others you find in this maze. But when he went to be sorted after his death, God couldn't decide where to place him, so he kept him in the Haze where he floated all alone. Ah, but who was he? He was called Cain. Cain!" The hermit chewed on the side of his mouth.

"Cain?" said Jeremy, astonished. "As in–"

"Cain murdered his brother Abel and died some time later himself. Yes, he was that Cain. Ah, so then he stayed in the Haze, angry and confused, until an angel took pity on him and said, 'Cain, I see your fate is not fair. Did you not honor the Lord and receive punishment in return?' and the angel returned Cain's soul to his body. His body decomposed but his consciousness lived on, tethered to his bones.

"Ah, but then one night, Cain noticed there was a spirit haunting the graveyard and he called it over to him. When the ghost was close enough–" Fedonis chomped the air with his toothless mouth and stared at Maren, who quivered under his gaze. "Mantel ate the ghost and gained its power. Of course, it's not eating like you and I know it. He must completely subdue the will of the soul, until it yields to his own and the energy is digested and incorporated into his being. He continued calling souls to him–ah yes, see the dead who continue to haunt the earth are lonely and easily summoned.

"After he gained immense power, he traveled to the center of the earth where he could have a proper kingdom. He called himself Mantel, and allowed other souls to live with him. He proclaimed that if the ghosts joined forces with him, that they could avoid being sorted in the Haze. Why, he asked, would they want a union with God only to lose their individuality? Why risk going to hell to suffer eternal damnation? Many ghosts joined Mantel and together they built Mantel's Maze. Ah, and his forces are growing, but they're still no match for God or Lucifer. There simply aren't enough souls who haunt the Earth after death." The old man pointed to his hat to signify that he was finishing up and began to squirm his way off the stool.

"Wait!" cried Jeremy. He trained his electric blue eyes on Fedonis.

"Yes, my good boy?"

"So is Mantel good or bad? I mean, you seem like a nice person."

"Teehee! Good or bad? Person! Phooey! Neither and neither!" Fedonis jumped down from his stool and walked back to his storefront. "What will it be today, then?"

"He's obviously bad, Jeremy! He eats souls!" Maren threw her hands up.

Lyrna tugged on Jeremy's pants. "Leave now!"

Jeremy clenched his fist and a blue spark shot up." What does he want with me?"

"Let's have a look at that map," said Maren, her hands outstretched.

"I'll look at the map." Jeremy turned his back to Maren and studied the map. It showed that an oasis was only a couple of doors away. "We'll stop at the oasis and then continue through here. Then we'll take the passageway upstairs to avoid this place." Jeremy pointed to a large, black spot on the map marked 'Kellaware's Dungeon.' "The more direct route would be to stay on this level until we're under the Heart, but I'd rather bypass the dungeon. I don't even want to know what kind of abominations lurk around there. If we take the passageway, we'll arrive at the Heart of the maze from the southern entrance."
Chapter 39

Beastie

Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna arrived at the oasis and took a seat beside it. The chamber was thick with ferns and moss and had a pool in the center. The pool had a rainbow hue and light emanated from the bottom. Liquid bubbled and sprayed a fine mist. They saw a small, fawn-like creature drinking from the pool. It looked up with large dewey eyes and then quickly ran away, standing upright momentarily to open a door, and falling gracefully back onto its hoofs before disappearing around a corner.

"That was kind of cute," said Maren. She cupped her hands and dipped them into the pool. The liquid tasted like a soothing citrus punch and she drank greedily. When she finished, she sat against the wall and watched Jeremy and Lyrna. Jeremy was as handsome as ever and she enjoyed her view of him. His sweat-soaked shirt and disheveled hair highlighted a more rough, masculine side to him that she hadn't thought possible. He'd always seemed so delicate. Still, his snobbish and moody demeanor was fast eroding whatever charm he held. She especially didn't appreciate the way he handled her, constantly pushing her and pulling her as though she were a rag doll.

Maren also felt frustrated by his lack of speculation as to why Mantel wanted him. He had to know something after everything he'd gone through. Was she willing to die for him? Of course not. But she felt like if she continued to have a relationship with him, whatever it was, beyond this terrifying ordeal, she would likely die at his side. Jeremy was always an oddball, intriguing and delightful to listen to and to stare at, but ultimately a destructive force. No, he hadn't changed, she concluded. And she felt guilty for reaching such a conclusion.

"Maren," said Jeremy, interrupting her musings. "I just realized how incredibly tired I am. It looks like we have a ways to go on the map, so we should camp out."

"I–"

"No. I was thinking we can camp either here by the oasis or possibly the next door over. I know it's dangerous, but this area of the maze seems reasonably safe. That old man's set up a storefront and that's saying something."

Maren frowned. She was only going to say that she was tired too.

Jeremy led everyone to a large, dark room. A faint light trickled down from what might have been the ceiling. The walls seemed to climb up indefinitely. Jeremy was the first to fall asleep.

Maren was on watch. She felt herself nodding off but would rouse herself from sleep for fear of some evil entity approaching. She rubbed her eyes and turned over onto the cold, dusty slab of stone. She couldn't fight sleep. The stone tile she chose for a bed was slightly elevated, so chosen in the off chance that a creepy-crawly insect or snake might decide it not worth their while to ascend the tile to get to its inhabitant. When at last she convinced herself that she was safe, she dozed off.

"Maren! Maren, wake up!" Jeremy shook her.

Maren's eyes opened wide. "What! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep!" she shouted, jumping up from her stone tile.

"Look at what you're sleeping on. I've been trying to figure it out for the past ten minutes, but I couldn't wait any longer." Jeremy pushed Maren's leg off of the edge of the tile.

"It just looks like a stone tile," said Maren, holding her head. "How long did I sleep?"

"I don't know, long enough." Jeremy called Lyrna to his side. "Think you can stick your paws in here and help loosen it? There's something underneath."

Lyrna shook her head. "Too scared!"

"Scared? Lyrna, it's a rock. It's inanimate."

"Under stone!"

"There might be tuna fish under the stone."

"Tuna, happy!" Lyrna danced on her paws.

Maren sighed. "There's no tuna fish under there, Lyrna. Come here." She patted her lap and Lyrna joined her.

Jeremy bent over. "Look! There's a picture etched into the stone. See here? On the top? You didn't notice this last night, Maren?" He brushed the dust off with his hand.

"No, I didn't," said Maren irritably.

"Beastie!" said Lyrna.

"What is it?" asked Maren, mildly interested.

"Maren, check this out!"

Maren crouched down for a better look at the tile. "Don't touch it!" She grabbed his hand. Jeremy laughed.

"Will you relax? It's a–"

"Beastie!" mewed Lyrna from the corner.

"Yes, you could say that.... It looks like that monster from Looney Tunes! What was it called? The big, orange hairy one. Maren, did you ever watch Looney Tunes on Earth?"

"Beastie..."

"Gossamer!" continued Jeremy. "It means goose summer. Supposed to be ironic...."

Maren shook her head.

"I had a lot of free time at Ms. Donegall's, okay?"

"Maybe you shouldn't mess with it. Let's get out of here." Maren rubbed her arms and looked up. There was a massive wooden door hung slightly ajar about twenty feet into the air on the wall. "Jeremy, do you see that? Why would there be a door up there?"

"Crazy," said Jeremy. He began chipping away at the base of the tile. "Look! I was right, something's down here." He gripped below the tile.

"Tuna?!" asked Lyrna in a renewed chirp. She leapt into the air and spun around, a small pool of drool already collecting beneath her.

"No, no it's a box! Help me dig some other tiles up so we can get this box. I could probably tip it sideways, and..."

The offer didn't appeal to Lyrna and, disappointed, she settled next to Maren, who was beginning to feel anxious.

Jeremy continued uprooting the tiles and finally produced his box. It was a large cardboard box, just big

enough for Jeremy to sit in. Inside the box was a set of huge drawing chalks, each the length of Jeremy's arm. Jeremy smiled and held the box up for Maren and Lyrna to see.

"Jeremy, let's go."

"Maren, can I have a moment?"

"With the box?" Maren blinked.

"Yes, with the box. Is that okay?" Jeremy took up a piece of chalk and drew a goose on the side of the box. He read aloud his inscription under the goose: "For Gossomer, in Honor of the Monster Tile."

"Bizarre, Jeremy." Maren smiled. The thought of her being seven years old and playing with Jeremy inside his parents' art room came to memory. She had some good times with him growing up. Her history with him, though intermittent, had its joys.

Jeremy sat in his box. "Now, a song." He cleared his throat and winked at Maren:

Far away in a maze,

There sits a monster tile.

We arrived from the Haze

And it took us quite a while,

To hear the ghost tell a ruse

And buy a map from a quack,

But because I've drawn a goose,

We'll ward off an attack.

Just then, the center door in front of them creaked open. Maren gasped and Lyrna hissed. Jeremy went silent.

A bright light spilled into the room. Soon the blinding light was adjusted to a softer glow. A hand appeared in the doorway. It was holding a lamp.

"Hello?" said a low, strong voice. A man stood in the doorway. "Hello? Hi guys!"

"Hello...?" said Maren, rubbing her eyes.

"Hello! Sorry for bursting in like that, neighbor!" A young man with black, close-cropped hair stood before them, the white letters of his lacrosse sweatshirt matching his teeth in intensity. He let out a hearty laugh. "My name's Steven. There are six of us at a camp site a couple of doors down. I thought I heard some–" Steven looked directly at Jeremy, who was still sitting in his box, "–singing... Some voice, eh?" Steven smiled at Maren. She gave a friendly, guarded smile back. Jeremy only raised an eyebrow and feigned an interest in his nails.

"I'm Maren. This is Lyrna and that's Jeremy."

Steven walked into the room and knelt down in front of Lyrna. "Lyrna, is it? What a great-looking critter."

"Thanks," said Lyrna. Steven jumped back.

"She can talk! I tell you, this maze is full of surprises. But hey, we have a ton of food at our site and you guys are welcome to it."

Jeremy rose from his box, clapping the chalk from off his pants. "Maren and Lyrna are both ladies. They probably don't like that expression – you know, using the term "guys" interchangeably for both men and women. I know I can't stand it."

Maren ignored Jeremy. "Thank you, Steven. I haven't eaten in so long."

"We stopped at the oasis," said Jeremy, stepping out of his goose box.

"The oasis is all fine and well, but wait 'til you see what we have at our camp!" Steven laughed and punched the air with his fist.

"I'll be glad to be around more people," said Maren. She suspiciously eyed his immaculate presentation. "Did you, er, fall into a volcano?"

"Sure did. I was hiking with some friends on Mt. Saint Helen a year or so ago when we fell into the mouth. We were standing there taking pictures when the ground collapsed beneath us. You?"

"Oh, well we fell into a hot spring," said Maren. She looked to Jeremy for support.

"We jumped into the hot spring, actually."

Steven smiled. "We'll all swap stories. Love finding newcomers. You'll see what I mean about the food. Won't believe it 'til you taste it. My lady." Steven opened the door for Maren. Lyrna followed. Jeremy frowned and picked up his box and chalks.

"Jeremy, are you really bringing that box?" asked Maren.

"We have cots to sleep on, fella." Steven's smile wilted a little when his eyes met the goose.

Jeremy proudly hoisted his box over his shoulder and walked through the door, pausing briefly to allow the goose drawing to linger for a moment in Steven's face.
Chapter 40

The Dungeon

Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna followed Steven through a couple of doors. Steven kept a grueling pace and Maren had to jog to keep up.

"Hey Steven," said Jeremy. "I thought you said you were next door."

"I am. We're in a maze and sometimes next door isn't exactly a stroll down the block, know what I mean?"

Jeremy cursed Steven under his breath. He had never gotten along well with other guys and this one was no exception. Maren heard Jeremy curse and nudged his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Who is this idiot?" said Jeremy.

"He seems like a nice guy, but we should probably be careful."

"You especially."

"Me?"

"He's going to grab you like this." Jeremy set his large box of chalks down and grabbed Maren, throwing her over his shoulder. She struggled and laughed because he'd tickled her.

"Is everything all right?" said Steven, stopping abruptly to inspect the party.

"Put me down." Maren's cheeks flushed.

"Embarrass," said Lyrna.

"I was just playing. She's out of breath, you're moving too fast." Jeremy placed Maren back on the ground.

"Oh?" said Steven.

"Jeremy, I'm fine. You're both just taking wider strides than me, but I can keep up."

"But your cheeks are red," said Jeremy. He leaned against the wall of the corridor and crossed his arms. "You're out of breath."

"I'm fine!" Maren, confused and humiliated, jogged away from Jeremy and caught up to Steven.

At last they arrived at a hall with silver tables set with silver cutlery and a gold statue depicting a harvest scene. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and the room smelled like rose water.

"Finally, someone in this godforsaken dungeon has paid attention to aesthetics," said Jeremy, taking a seat at the end of one of the banquet tables. He took a deep breath. "And what a beautiful smell." Jeremy motioned for Maren to join him at the table. She hesitated and then took a seat beside him.

"So where's the food?" Jeremy brushed Maren's hair behind her ear and smiled.

Maren pulled away.

"Are you not feeling well? You keep turning red."

"Stop, Jeremy. Just stop." Maren rose from the banquet table. "Steven, where are your friends?"

"They must be out hunting," said Steven dreamily. "Don't worry, when they return we're sure to have a feast."

Jeremy called for Lyrna to join him and she jumped up on the silver-plated bench. He pulled the map out from his pocket. "So where are we on here?" He ran his finger across the map. "Should I mark it?" Jeremy smiled and pet the top of Lyrna's head. He picked up a large yellow chalk from his box.

"You've got a map?" Steven moved towards Jeremy for a closer look.

"Yes, and you haven't? Of course you know this place by heart and are probably best pals with all sorts of freaky-ass creatures."

"Jeremy!" said Maren.

"We're looking for the Heart of the maze, Steve, so if you could just point it out to us...."

Steven smiled. "It's above us."

"So that would mean we're..." Jeremy moved his finger across the map, "third level, right next to the dungeon." He fixed his eyes on Steven, who stood smiling and unblinking before him. "That seems like a dangerous location for a banquet," he said slowly.

Lyrna was the first to cry out. There was a muffled sound of metal clanking and feet shuffling coming through a door located behind the harvest statue. Jeremy and Maren both stood up abruptly. The door flew open, and the first of a horde of grunting and snorting abominations burst through, clad in crude armor and brandishing an axe and sword. Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna bolted for the exit. On her way to the door, Maren slipped on a piece of yellow chalk that Jeremy had dropped on the ground, falling hard on her hands and knees. By that time, five abominations had entered the room.

Jeremy turned just as the first monster reached Maren. Its face was human-like, but horribly misshapen and scarred. Maren tried to scramble to her feet but her attacker took a coiled net off its back and tossed it over her. Her limbs became entangled and she fell again, this time landing unevenly on her face with a sickening thud. The abomination howled.

Jeremy hesitated and hated himself for it. He looked at his hands, shaking from the adrenaline that pumped through his body. He inhaled sharply, and then charged the creature, running in a tight arc to attack it from the side. The abomination managed to lift its sword to repel Jeremy, but he was too quick. Jeremy leapt and deflected the blade harmlessly with the bottom of his foot while grabbing the creature's head with both of his hands. Two deadly currents left his hands and entered the misshapen head, disintegrating the twisted brain from within.

Lyrna was busy distracting the four other abominations. She deftly dodged their swings, following up with quick counterattacks and enraging the monsters. But she miscalculated slightly, and after putting her claws deeply into a dull eye, she caught an axe blade in the last inch of her tail, which severed cleanly and fell to the floor. Lyrna screeched and crawled under the table. An abomination jumped and landed in the middle of the table, splitting the wood and scattering cutlery everywhere. Lyrna managed to get out of the way in time, and crawled behind the harvest statue.

Jeremy, seeing the bloody stump of Lyrna's tail on the ground, cried out. His hair sparked and stood on end, and an expanding blue wall of electricity flashed into the monsters, who were making their way towards Lyrna. The wall bowled them over and one fell into the harvest statue, which teetered and then crashed on the ground. The monsters were stunned for the moment. Maren had finally climbed out of the net and was standing in the exit, shouting.

Jeremy and Lyrna joined Maren in the doorway, and they ran in a frenzy down the hall.

Jeremy, Maren, and Lyrna raced through the maze, opening and closing doors indiscriminately. After ten minutes of running, Maren slammed a door closed and turned to Jeremy. "We left him," she said between breaths. "Steven!"

"That was a set up, Maren. He was with them."

"You don't know that. Steven could be dead!"

"I killed one of those creatures, Maren! Did you see?" Jeremy's eyes shone wildly, not with victory but with self-loathing.

"I... don't know what I saw." Maren looked at the ground and then up at Jeremy. She wiped her hair from off her face. "But thank you."

A moment of silence passed between them.

Jeremy bent down beside Lyrna and ripped the bottom of his shirt off. He wound it tightly around the tip of her tail. Her tail, usually thick with fur, was matted with blood. "Lyrna, I was so afraid you left me." Jeremy scooped Lyrna up and hugged her close to his chest. A tear fell down his cheek and he turned away from Maren.

Lyrna mewed affectionately.

Maren rubbed her eyes. "Jeremy, you brought the chalk?"

"Apparently." Jeremy examined his hands and saw that they were covered in a yellow dusting. He felt in his back jean pockets and produced two large pieces of chalk. "But not the map." He slammed his fist onto the stone wall and cursed. Lyrna flattened her ears.

"But okay," said Lyrna. "Still alive." She tugged at his pant leg with her mouth and then shook her tongue to rid it of chalk.

"It's not okay."

"We shouldn't have left Steven," repeated Maren sadly.

"Maren, it was a set up. I looked at the map and we weren't 'next door' to where we were when he found us. We were beside the dungeon, the one place I knew for sure that I wanted to avoid. But you were all smitten with him calling you a guy and holding the door for you and being a general weirdo." Jeremy walked to the opposite stone wall and began to doodle geese pictures with the yellow piece of chalk.

"Okay! So maybe it was a set up. Sorry for being concerned about another human being's welfare." Maren stood up and started pacing the room.

"And I'm not? I've been looking out for you since we've been here! I could leave at any time if I wanted."

"Really? Well I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you!"

"So you don't want to see your parents?"

"You know what I mean, I wouldn't have come to Earth if I hadn't gone with you on Failrun!"

Jeremy held his breath and doodled furiously. First he drew a flock of geese in the sky. Then he drew a pond and added a mother goose and her goslings.

"Jeremy."

He continued to ignore her and started on a sunset.

"Jeremy, put the chalk down."

"Chalk!"

Jeremy turned around and was about to tell Lyrna not to get involved when he saw a large yellow creature with mangy fur descending the wall. The creature was thickset and strong and Jeremy immediately recognized it as the monster on the tile. Before he could warn Maren and Lyrna, the creature had sprung down to the center of the room, knocking Maren to the floor. The creature stood on its hind legs and roared, bearing its sharp, black teeth. It licked its swollen gums with a forked tongue and leered at Jeremy.

Jeremy stumbled back and dropped the chalk. It rolled behind him.

"Chalk!" roared the creature.

"It wants the chalk, give it the chalk!" Maren crawled to the furthermost wall and watched in horror as Jeremy flung the chalk at the monster. The chalk smacked the monster in the head and the monster toppled over. When it lifted its large furry head, it clapped its hands. "Good chalk! Make Urm happy!"

Maren blinked. She looked to Jeremy, who scrambled to his feet. "Is it... friendly?"

Lyrna approached the monster from its side, her ears tucked back. "Urm, I Lyrna."

The monster beat its chest. "Urm."

"Is that your chalk, Urm?" asked Jeremy.

The yellow, furry monster shook its head. "Yes, mean ghost hid it. I look for long time. Say I'm stupid."

Maren walked to Jeremy with her back against the wall. "We don't think you're stupid."

"Thank you, friends!" Urm jumped up and down, lifting his large furry legs to his chest and slamming them to the floor. "Urm love chalk!" Urm crawled up the wall, his left arm firmly holding his chalk. He began to draw self portraits.

"Let's leave. Now." Maren tugged at Jeremy's shirt and they tiptoed to the door.

"Psst, Lyrna!" said Jeremy.

"Wait!" Urm crashed to the ground. "Where you go?"

"Heart!" said Lyrna cheerfully.

"Lyrna, come on!" Jeremy motioned for Lyrna to exit the room.

"Heart? Wait! I take you there. Very simple. Hop on back." Urm patted his back and lay flat to the ground. "I take you up wall, through high door to Heart now."

Jeremy examined the high walls and saw that there was a door thirty feet up. He pointed this out to Maren.

"It might make things easier." He shrugged.

"Wait!" said Maren. "Do we really want to go to the Heart? Let's think this through. What happens there?"

The monster raised its large, furry eyebrow. "Heart Mantel's throne. You want eat, right?"

"No I do not want to be eaten! Jeremy, what are we doing?"

Jeremy examined the monster's yellow fur and hopped up on its back. Lyrna scrambled up Urm's leg. "Maren." Jeremy patted Urm's fur, indicating a seat for Maren.

"Jeremy, I don't know," said Maren after a pause. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Maren." He patted Urm's fur again. "Unless, of course, you wanted to sit on my lap." He smiled.

Maren gasped. "Jeremy!"

"Don't act so shocked."

Maren couldn't believe his trespass, especially under the current circumstances. "This is serious, we could die!"

"Exactly. Get up here."

Maren sighed and reluctantly climbed onto the yellow abomination's back. "All right, but this is for my parents' sake."
Chapter 41

Mantel

Urm sprang up onto the stone wall, his massive, furry paws expertly working with the scattered cracks and protrusions. Jeremy and Maren held tight to his fur and Lyrna bit down to keep from falling off. The monster climbed until at last he reached a great wooden door with a heart engraved just above the handle. "Ready?" asked Urm.

"Yes," said Jeremy after a sigh.

Urm opened the door with his massive paw. It creaked on its hinges. Urm scrambled through the door and Jeremy and Maren saw a large, circular room with a ceiling that tapered to a point. The floor was polished black marble inlaid with precious stones, and the walls were blood-red. At the far end of the room sat a throne with gilded edges. Engraved in its side were depictions of a harvest. Jeremy and Maren's parents stood with their backs against the wall, shouting and waving their arms. Jeremy's father, Wantoro, had his hands and legs chained.

"Jeremy!" shouted Wantoro.

"Father, what's going on down there?"

"Jeremy, watch out!" Wantoro shook his chains.

Jeremy and Maren gripped Urm's fur as he descended the wall. "Wait, Urm!"

But Urm had already reached the bottom. He shook them off his fur and leapt back onto the wall. "Urm go now!" Urm scurried up the blood-red wall and disappeared behind the wooden door.

"Wait!" Maren yelled.

"Jeremy Chikalto," said a strange, hoarse voice. The sound had a low end like thunder in the distance, and a high end as shrill as a rusted hinge.

Jeremy and Maren spun around. The voice came from a small, fleshy figure robed in black. Its body emanated waves that disturbed the air surrounding it, like the heart of a fire. It hovered above the ground and moved slowly towards Jeremy.

"Yes, Mantel. This is the boy you seek." Ms. Fritz emerged from behind the throne. She smoothed her hair to her head and smiled.

"Maren, you have to get out of here!" yelled Gillian from across the room, tears streaming down her face.

Mantel's hood fell back and Maren gasped. His head was pale and wrinkled, with coal-black eyes and a long, flat nose that flared at the nostrils. A sliver in the front of his robe showed a small, shriveled body hunched forward. His hands were iridescent, fleshy stumps with small finger buds. He raised one of his hands over his head. "Jeremy Chikalto, descendent of Vordin Chikalto, I am honored." Mantel set his black eyes on Jeremy.

"What?" Jeremy stammered.

"Some ghosts led you astray. My apologies." Mantel lowered his hand.

Jeremy shot a sideways glance at his father. He looked fierce despite his shackles. Jeremy balled his hand into a fist. "I'm here now, so what do you want?"

Suddenly Mantel manifested directly in front of Jeremy. Jeremy fell back on the floor and Mantel hissed with laughter. "Jeremy Chikalto, do not worry about your friends and family. It is you who I want. Look at me." Mantel's dark, boding stare bore down on Jeremy's soul like an anchor. Mantel drew his face close to Jeremy's, but not quite touching. Jeremy tried to jerk his head away but found that he could not. To his horror, he could now see that beneath Mantel's skin, different faces bubbled up, pressing against the pink flesh. An eye blinked beneath Mantel's cheek; a mouth screamed just under the skin on his forehead. The faces of the dead were in him. Jeremy then heard a singular shrill voice enter his head, piercing through all thoughts, omnipresent.

"Yes, I was once called Cain. But do you know who are?"

Everything around Jeremy grew warbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Lyrna throwing herself against the air, as though a forcefield kept her separated from him and Mantel.

Don't hurt us, thought Jeremy. Sweat dripped down his brow and mixed with the tears forming on his eyelashes.

"Hurt you?" said the voice in Jeremy's head. "You are Jeremy Chikalto, descendent of Vordin Chikalto." Mantel rose slightly in the air and circled Jeremy, leaving a trail of thick, pink mucous on the floor. Jeremy scrambled to his feet.

"Vordin Chikalto was my salvation," continued Mantel. "He reincarnated my damned soul. Like the angel Gabriel, he heralded new life; like the Anointed One, I rose again and offer life.

How did–

"Vordin Chikalto was like you."

Jeremy stopped struggling against Mantel's voice. His eyes widened. But...

"Angel blood runs in your veins."

And my father?

"Only you."

Jeremy struggled against the voice again and was able to bring his eyes so far as the black polished floor.

"Jeremy Chikalto!"

You're hurting me! His temples were beginning to tense up, and his mind felt a terrible pressure building, as though his head might explode.

"Don't resist. Be with me. You must cross over to the Haze and gather souls for my harvest."

Jeremy dropped to his hands and knees and gnashed his teeth, the pain was so excruciating. Why should I bring you souls?!

"You can live here, with me. I will fulfill you. What do you desire? Wealth, power... love."

Souls are supposed to be sorted in the Haze.

"The Apocalypse is imminent. We must be ready." Mantel's lips curled. "Ah, I see. Hidden thoughts betray you. You think you are allied with God?" Mantel laughed and a thick, black smoke billowed from his mouth. "I'm afraid you are predestined to choose between my company or Lucifer's. God does not want you." Mantel drifted behind Jeremy and whispered in his ear. "It isn't fair, I know. God's vengeance is durable. After your ancestor took pity on me and returned me to my corpse, he was cursed. You embody that curse."

That doesn't make sense. Jeremy gritted his teeth.

"Few comprehend the divine agenda." Mantel's shrill voice had entered Jeremy's head again. "I too bear the mark of a curse. See?" Mantel pointed to his neck with his iridescent finger buds. The blue and purple veins throbbed and Jeremy saw what appeared to be a tattoo: two small black spirals, joined at the center, were etched into his flesh. A thick blue line that looped at the end cut through the center of the spirals.

Mantel's mouth twitched. "God cursed Vordin Chikalto for his trespass on the divine will. You are the fruition of that curse. You, with the smug fantasy of God's grace, are to aid the fallen Lucifer in unleashing the greatest darkness. You, Apollyon."

I don't believe you. Jeremy closed his eyes and held his head.

"You are the angel of the bottomless pit. But you don't have to be. Join me and we can rise up against Lucifer's army at the end of days. We can topple God!" Mantel's eyes shimmered with desire and light bent and twisted around him.

Stop it! Jeremy grabbed at his temples and forced his head to the ground. He fell forward, his chin cracking on the cold stone, and blood pooled from his ears. When he came to his senses, he heard Maren screaming.

The IIU had arrived and surrounded Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo. The bright white of their uniforms reflected off the floor.

"Mantel, should we take them to the dungeon?" Bentley looked up from under his thick, black brow and smiled.

"That's up to Jeremy. Tell me, Apollyon, are they enemies or guests?" Mantel gestured towards Wantoro with his frail, pink hand. "Unchain him."

Bentley nodded and unchained Wantoro.

"Jeremy, you were saying? Enemies or guests?"

"They're nothing to you."

Mantel let out a splintering laugh and floated to the center of the room.

Jeremy got to his feet and scrambled to his family and friends. They turned towards a door.

Ms. Fritz and the IIU cut them off, drawing their weapons.

"Jeremy, I will be a perfect host to your loved ones. Stay," said Mantel calmly, turning his gaze to the party.

"We're leaving," said Jeremy, clenching his teeth.

"But you came here to rescue your father, yes? I imagine someone will die if you attempt to get past the IIU.

Bentley raised his gun. The other IIU members followed his example.

"No, we're leaving this place." Jeremy extended his arms over his father and Maren.

"To the Haze? Really? They wouldn't survive the transition. You know that."

Jeremy looked away. Mantel was right.

Lyrna growled. "No hurt anyone!"

Mantel raised his finger. "Oh? Let me escalate this negotiation." He pointed his finger at Lyrna and shot a jet of red-black fire at her. Jeremy cried out and ran to her, but was too late. A pile of black ashes had replaced Lyrna. Jeremy bent forward and raked at the ashes, his tears mixing with the dust. "Lyrna!" Jeremy moaned and the air in the room began pulsing in violent waves. A look of fear spread across the faces of Ms. Fritz and the IIU.

"Why would you destroy what is so innocent? Oh Lyrna, I'm so sorry!" Jeremy turned his back to a terrified Wantoro, Maren, Gillian, and Mateo, his rage building like a volcano, his nerves on fire. "YOU MONSTER!" he yelled, and his electric blue eyes flashed. The fringes of Jeremy's body sparked and his hair stood on end. The air in the room became thick with static. A globe of blue energy expanded explosively around Jeremy and then retracted. A thick blue beam burst from Jeremy's sternum and struck Mantel in the chest. Mantel flew back and hit the floor, his fetus-like legs rolling beneath him.

"There's a surprise," said Mantel, rising back into the air. He opened his mouth wide and belched. A blackened soul spewed forth, covered in bile, and all the light in the room vanished. The soul slithered towards Wantoro and Jeremy's eyes flashed again. A lightening bolt burst from a glowing oval on Jeremy's forehead and struck the looming shadow, stunning it for a moment. But after the electricity subsided, the soul pressed forward. Mantel laughed again with the sound of a thousand voices, sending the echoes through his vast maze. "Do not resist our alliance! Do not be foolish!" Even Ms. Fritz turned a ghastly shade of white.

Mantel rose high in the air and hovered towards the party, his body acting as a vacuum for light and air. His black, menacing eyes fixed on Jeremy. Mantel belched forth another blackened soul.

Jeremy could feel the pressure on his temples building. This was it. His father was going to die, Maren and her parents were going to die. Lyrna was gone, soft, furry Lyrna, who only ever wanted to warm Jeremy's lap. Jeremy zapped in vain as Mantel closed in. He knew what he must do. If his father, Maren, and her parents were going to die, he'd rather it be by his hands. He'd rather they die in the Haze, where they could at least be sorted and not doomed to live in the maze or be eaten by Mantel. Jeremy leaned back against his father and Maren and enveloped them in his thoughts. He could feel the tension of Mantel's grip on his temples begin to fade and Jeremy began to vibrate. He slowed his breathing down. Concentrate. The vibrations built into an explosion. He felt the familiar tug on his sternum and opened his eyes. He had crossed over to the Haze. His father, Maren, and her parents floated beside him, unconscious.

Tears streamed down Jeremy's face as he pulled his father's hand towards purple swirls. He saw the shallow breaths rise and fall from his great chest and felt the pulse deaden in his fingertips. The Haze stretched on indefinitely and Jeremy swam forward. If he could just find somewhere to pull them out, they might live.

"Help!" Jeremy quickly swam to an elk. It carried the body of a little girl whose face was blue from frost. She cried as the elk led her forward. "Help! I have living souls with me! I need to get them out!" The elk shook its head and swam on.

They were now in the thick of the Haze. Jeremy spun himself around and forgot which way was up and which way was down. He didn't even know the direction he'd come from. Jeremy swam with his father's limp body tucked under his right arm, and Maren under his left. He decided to leave Gillian and Mateo behind. Any minute now, Jeremy suspected a spiritual creature would approach him to take his father and Maren to their afterlife. Would he be responsible for their deaths? Would this count as murder? Jeremy soon saw the outline of a creature approaching from the black. It drifted forward quietly and Jeremy closed his eyes. He did not want to witness death's departure. Here it comes. Goodbye father. Goodbye Maren. He held his breath. A cold sensation brushed against his cheek.

"Jeremy!"

Jeremy opened his eyes. Lyrna mewed.

"Lyrna!" Jeremy grabbed Lyrna and held her close to him. "I'm so sorry! Lyrna, I wanted to pet you one last time!"

"Ferry souls, me!"

"Oh, Lyrna! Have you come to take my father and Maren from me?" Jeremy held his father's limp body up. "Please be quick."

"No, Wantoro alive." Lyrna pushed her head up under his large hand. "Trouble breathing."

"He'll die soon then," said Jeremy sadly.

"Yes." Lyrna paused. "But Lyrna know! Mom!"

"He'll join my mom."

"No, mom here!"

"I know, I saw her when she died."

"No, mom here and there, Watico. You see. Call her!"

Jeremy frowned and looked at Maren. "What about her, is Maren dead?"

"No! Call mom! Coma. Not dead, not alive. Connected to Watico. Follow voice and you leave Haze!"

Jeremy felt a song play on his ear. "What's that?"

"Yes, concentrate!" mewed Lyrna, bouncing from paw to paw.

It was his mother's song. Jeremy turned in the direction of the song. "Mom?" He looked at Lyrna, astonished. "Is that?"

"I get Mateo and Gillian! You call, go, I follow! Send many concentrations."

Jeremy yanked his father and Maren forward. "Mom!" he called out. "Mom, please?"

His mother stopped singing. "Jeremy? Is that you? I sense you, are you here?"

"Mom! Where are you!" Jeremy drifted towards her voice.

"I don't know! Jer-Jer?"

"Mom!" Jeremy flew into a fold in space and the Haze opened up sideways. He saw a glowing blue chord attached to something beyond the Haze. A brown bear waited patiently at the end of the chord and licked its paws.

"Mom?"

The chord tugged and fell limp again. Jeremy followed the chord, still holding Maren and Wantoro in either arm. He saw a tear. "Lyrna, I think I found her!" he called back, before pushing through. "Mom!"

Raaychila lay stretched out on a hospital bed. Machines and tubes connected her to life. "Mom! It's me! Can you hear me?" Jeremy laid Wantoro and Maren on the floor and opened the hospital door. "Can somebody help! My father's not breathing!"

A doctor rushed into the room just as Jeremy disappeared back into the Haze.

In the Haze, Lyrna raced towards him pulling Mateo and Gillian by their chords. Jeremy reached out and grabbed Mateo. He extended his arm for Gillian.

"No," said Lyrna. She tucked her ears back and gently tugged Gillian's chord.

Jeremy looked at the chord held firmly in Lyrna's jaw and knew Gillian had died. Lyrna motioned towards the rip in space. "Mateo need air, quick."

Jeremy hesitated. "Thank you, Lyrna." He pulled Mateo through.
Chapter 42

Alive

Jeremy lay at his father's bedside in the Watico Medical Center's Emergency Room. White linen and cream-colored walls accented with a pastel green offered a startling contrast to the black-gray stone lit by the harsh light of torches in Mantel's Maze. Wantoro slowly opened his eyes.

"Good morning, Father." Jeremy smiled and squeezed his father's hand.

"Jeremy! Where am I? Are you okay?"

"We're back on Watico. I'm fine. The nurses brought this." Jeremy wheeled a cart of food to Wantoro's side and lifted the lid revealing steamed lobster, mashed potatoes, and a citrus salad. "You should see the mobs outside. The press is unbelievable."

"You've grown so much." Wantoro squinted up at Jeremy. "I went to find you. The IIU –"

"Father, please." Jeremy stood up and shook his head. "We have a visitor," he said, pulling back the curtain.

A nurse wheeled Raaychila into the room.

"Is she –"

"She's still in a coma, but she's alive."

Wantoro looked from his son, now a handsome young man, to his lovely wife. He had traced the lines of her face in his mind's eye so many times these last three years.

###

Be sure to check out these other books in The Hazy Souls series!

Jeremy Chikalto and the Hazy Souls

(Book 1 of The Hazy Souls)

2011

Jeremy Chikalto and Leviathan Island

(Book 2 of The Hazy Souls)

2012

Jeremy Chikalto and the Demon Trace

(Book 3 of The Hazy Souls)

2014

Prologue to Jeremy Chikalto and Leviathan Island

Mark Johnson didn't expect death to feel like a change in temperature. He set his briefcase down on the mahogany desk in his spacious office, took one final swig of his pumpkin-spice double latte, and opened up his executive-sized window. Mark was a senior partner at Johnson, Smith & Jones, L.L.P., and though he pulled in over $500,000 annually, he had pushed away his late wife, Linda. Long days at the office and longer nights at Gilt on Madison Ave. had put too much stress on their marriage. She'd left Mark for a chemistry professor named Arnold. For God's sake, the man didn't know a cufflink from a tie clip, and wore a tie with short sleeves.

The divorce was decreed. Even his kids divorced themselves from his surname, as if the whole corporation had dissolved.

Tonight Mark meant to dissolve too. Both his parents had expired long ago in Floridan opulence, after all, and he had no educations of nieces or nephews to fund, no siblings to rival. His children and ex-wife wouldn't touch his assets, and he hadn't a need for them, really. What an emptiness I have accumulated, thought Mark as he climbed up on his window's ledge.

Mark wanted to think wild thoughts and have some profound connection to his time and place of death. He'd chosen 11pm sharp, but he had no real reason for doing so. He'd chosen his office window and the city sidewalk below for his body's final breath. Why? He didn't know. It was sad, he thought, that there was no poetry in his life.

As Mark Johnson leaned into the wind, trying to elongate the cusp of his life, he glimpsed his destination, and was disgusted. How had he missed this detail? Below, a wooden awning stretched out across several storefronts. Large, striped pedestrian crosswalk signs directed foot traffic through the narrow tunnel. His place of death was a construction site. Mark tried to back out of the deal, but had no leverage, and fell. His adrenal gland surged, and he was horribly excited. The Earth rushing towards him was magnificent, and nothing had ever felt as real as the air he now penetrated. Tenth floor, ninth floor, eighth floor, he was almost one with the ground. Fourth floor, third floor, second floor, and he merged with the plywood of the construction site, shards of wood impaling him as he liquefied on impact.

Mark felt a temperature change. He knew from the ski trips he used to take with his family that a frigid January sometimes felt like a sweltering July. It was all very confusing, especially the fact that Mark was still thinking. He opened his eyes.

Mark had entered the Haze. A buzzing bright white light was soon replaced with humming purple rays. Mark looked down at his blob of a body from an impossible angle, and shrieked when he realized that his head wasn't attached. It bobbed up and down in space. He floated aimlessly for a time, watching the shadows and lights shift in the distance, and then a strange suction pulled him along. There was a glowing thread emanating from his solar plexus, and a cat-like creature was tugging on it. His head, though severed from his body, followed the cat as though it were bonded to his flesh. Mark cried out and jiggled his arm, which was still attached to his body. The cat turned around, meowed, and pointed a paw above her.

Mark looked up and felt some part of his being rise and separate from the bulk of his consciousness. The part that had risen felt light and whimsical, like the first flurries of the season. He remembered holding his newborn boys, crying and laughing at once. The bottom part, though, was dark and heavy, slush trampled by too many shoes. He was in a back room, screwing an escort, stomach acid and rum sloshing up in his mouth. The cat was pulling him down, down. And then there was an explosion of noise—the hiss of a cat, the shriek of a wild boar, and then a two-toned voice, saying, "Jeremy Chikalto! Apollyon's animus!"

Mark Johnson swiveled his mushy head and saw the cat hissing and backing away, whipping its gray and white tail. The nearby shadows began to morph, and a large black shape loomed towards him, polluting the Haze above it with swirls of oil. Mark remembered all the times he had been afraid, and the memories coalesced into a feeling of the deepest dread. His glowing cord was drawn into the creature's terrible gravity, and Mark was being reeled in. Mark howled as he entered the demon's mouth, and was incinerated in its throat. Everything was charred black. This time, there was no mistaking the temperature.
Chapter 1

Apollyon

Jeremy Chikalto smiled and watched the ballroom rotate in a gentle circle, a sea of golden light glinting off of a thousand reflective surfaces on the walls. His dance partner, five-year-old cousin Lilac Vendere, beamed back at him as they twirled. Now she looked like a china doll draped in purple hues, with a moon face and elaborate hairdo. A giggle escaped her lips. The guests lining the perimeter of the dance floor clapped and cooed as the pair waltzed nimbly under the soft lights.

Jeremy remembered this room from his childhood―the high ceilings, antique chandeliers, his mother's elegant gown, his father's impossibly crisp military uniform. When they danced, their regal energy seemed to expand and fill the whole room, the opposite but complementary colors of their clothing echoing in a room of mirrors. His parents' dueling and dancing personalities formed the matrix of his young universe―art and science, the primal lovers, and him the lovechild.

There was a heavy thud against the door, and the spell was broken. The two guards leaning against the wall jumped up and drew their pistols. Lilac's eyebrows knitted together and her bottom lip quivered in fear. Another thud, and the sound of wood splintering. Just then, a mass of yellow burst through the locked door like a battering ram, and bowled over the unprepared guards with two meaty outstretched arms. Not again, thought Jeremy.

As Lilac scurried into the corner, a large woman in a bright yellow jumpsuit charged Jeremy, a crazed look in her eyes. Jeremy pathetically held out his palms to stop the onslaught, but was knocked on his backside and was soon being mauled by the adoring fan. The woman panted and whispered "Jeremy" as she smooched his neck and cheeks, her chubby fingers combing through his hair, completely messing it up. After an unreasonable delay, the guards got to their feet and more had descended the long, spiral staircases on either side of the dance floor. They yanked the woman up.

"How'd she get in!" demanded Ronny, the Chief Security Officer. The guards began bickering amongst themselves. Someone, clearly, had screwed up, since the ballroom was supposed to have been well guarded for the evening's festivities. It was Lilac's birthday celebration.

Lilac walked back over to Jeremy, who was slumped on the dance floor. She looked down at him, her mouth agape.

"It's okay, Lilac. I'm fine." Jeremy smiled up at her, determined to level his breathing. The large, adoring fan had knocked the wind out of him.

On seeing his smile, Lilac laughed and ran in circles, her arms outstretched pretending to chase Jeremy with the intention of giving him a kiss. "I love you! I love yoouuuu!"

"I know, all right. Let's settle down." Jeremy got to his feet and caught hold of Lilac. He squeezed her in his arms. She squealed and bucked until at last he set her down.

The moans from the large woman faded as the doors to the ballroom closed shut. Then Vor Wantoro Chikalto barreled in and scolded the guards. Jeremy was next in line for a tongue lashing. It was unfair how those closest to him faulted him for attracting women, like he had some active role in the seduction of complete strangers.

Wantoro approached Jeremy. "Jeremy," he said gruffly, squaring his massive shoulders.

"Yes?" Jeremy hissed the "s" sound because he knew his father disliked it.

"How about you go to your quarters until the close."

Jeremy crinkled his brow. "Why?"

"I'm sorry, I just can't allow this evening to be about you." Wantoro frowned slightly, but Jeremy detected a twinkle in his eye.

"What does that even mean? It's not like I―"

"Ssh! Image control, Jeremy. Image control."

Jeremy sighed. His father was right. He waved at Lilac, who was staring from behind Wantoro. "Don't forget me. Send someone up for the final dance."

"Forget you," Wantoro shook his head in bemusement.

Jeremy stepped back from his father, bowed, and then jogged off to the door, leaving a gaggle of girls giggling in his wake.

The walk to Jeremy's wing of the castle was quiet, almost too quiet. A row of plants to his right, set in a stone garden that traveled the length of the hallway adjacent to the wall, rustled quietly in the breeze.

Breeze? Jeremy halted and suspiciously eyed the jumjee, with its blood-red blossoms and prickly stems. No, there was no breeze in this corridor. Jeremy had imagined it. He ran his fingers through his golden brown hair. Strands of blonde usually framed his face, but these now flipped up, the natural waves in his hair pattern having been ruffled by the large woman. Demon? Jeremy spun around, and on seeing he was alone, began to vibrate. Some invisible part of him tugged him through and in a flash, he had entered the Haze. Purple shafts of light swallowed him sideways. It was unusually dark here. Jeremy swished his hand about in an effort to dissipate the dark clouds, though he knew it didn't quite work this way. "Lyrna!" he shouted.

Jeremy felt a nip on his ankle. "Out! Too dark." Fur brushed against his leg as he passed through a pink cloud that swallowed him whole. Now, in a light wisp of Haze, Jeremy saw Lyrna. She licked her fur down while occasionally glancing at Jeremy. "Yes?" she purred.

"Did you hear anything else?"

"Mew?"

"Demons. You know, anything?" Jeremy shuddered and bit his nails.

"Just that once. I tell. Demon pass through, say 'Jeremy Chikalto,' no more."

"That's it then? Nothing more in the past three months?"

"No," said Lyrna. "I tell. Frazzled, you. Go sleep."

Jeremy looked down at his nail beds, torn to shreds. "You know, I looked quite decent this morning." He smiled and hesitated before adding, "Lyrna, can I pet you?"

Lyrna shifted her weight from paw to paw and floated over to Jeremy's lap, setting her head down on his knee. Jeremy stroked her fur as she purred.

A nosy elk got so brazen as to stick its big, fat nose through the cloud in front of Jeremy's face.

Jeremy held his hand up to cover the snooping nostrils. "Hey buddy, don't you have souls to sort?" The elk retreated and Jeremy sighed. "Okay, Lyrna. I guess I'll go back now. Please let me know if you hear of anything."

Lyrna nodded and Jeremy held fast to Lyrna's small furry body, which glided effortlessly through the Haze. Lyrna came to a stop. "Here."

"Yes. I feel it." Jeremy patted Lyrna on the head and exited the Haze. He was getting better at gaging his entry and exit points, but still needed help. Getting lost in the Haze was a terrifying endeavor. Jeremy stumbled back onto the floor of the west wing. The plants to his right gave a slight twitch.

Jeremy visited Lyrna often after learning of her role in the Haze. The Haze once seemed like a place of death, but Jeremy now recognized it as also a place of life and rebirth. The souls of the departed didn't extinguish after death, they went to the Haze to be sorted, meaning the old dichotomy of Heaven and Hell wasn't just a metaphor. What Heaven and Hell might look like, feel like, remained shrouded in mystery. But what Mantel had said to him, about his being Apollyon, the angel of the bottomless pit, haunted Jeremy even worse than the demon that, he was told, had been looking for him three months ago. Apollyon. Four months ago, in front of Mantel, Jeremy had a vague familiarity with that figure, but the words passed over him. He was still struggling to comprehend that his ancestor, Vordin Chikalto, had been an angel, cursed for returning Cain to his damned body. Mantel was Cain and Jeremy was the heir to God's curse. But now his most relevant concern was: What was his role in the Apocalypse?

Jeremy entered his room, deep in thought. He looked himself over absently in the antique mirror, then wandered into his huge closet to kill time. He selected a black silk shirt with paisley stitchwork and gray slacks, and topped it off with a bow tie. He stepped into black leather dress shoes and waited for what seemed like an eternity in front of the mirror, planning a sequence of dance moves. He added a green vest. Finally, a servant came to retrieve him.

"Your father requests your presence for the final dance."

Jeremy nodded and followed the servant to the ballroom. The Cajjez stared at his feet while he walked, images of the pending Apocalypse flitting across his mind. He heard the ballroom door open in front of him and looked up. The last person he wanted to see was standing in the center of the dance floor, surrounded by numerous polite guests.

"Maren!" gasped Jeremy.

"Hello," said Maren, awkwardly gripping and releasing her sheer silver gown like a lost kitten kneading a blanket. She was sparkling like a diamond in a display case, and her hair was cascading out of an elaborate bun.

"What a ... surprise." Jeremy's heart pounded hard in his chest as he approached her.

A crowd of onlookers erupted into applause. "Look! Jeremy and Maren are reunited at last!" someone cried.

Camera flashes abounded. It was the first time the two were seen together in public since returning to Watico after the alleged IIU kidnapping.

"Why haven't you returned my calls?" whispered Maren as Jeremy drew close.

Jeremy bowed on one knee and took her hand and kissed it. "Well, I―"

"You've been dancing a lot, I take it?" she said through gritted teeth. She withdrew her hand from his.

"Just look at them together, adorable!" wailed a woman from the sidelines. The band struck up a latin groove.

Jeremy forced a smile and stood tall. "May I?"

"This is so unnatural right now, in case you didn't notice." Maren scowled at him.

"Right." He placed his right hand gently on Maren's back and clasped her hand with his left. They stepped into each other and began to tango, and the crowd ooed and ahed. "You have a problem with my dancing?" Her face was flush with anger and embarrassment. Her gray eyes bore into him, and he averted his gaze as he dipped her low, her left leg tipping on a silver heel, her right leg folding into him.

"Your shoes," said Maren.

Jeremy looked down at his boots as he stepped back. "Um, what about them?"

"There was a story on your shoes in the news. Your dancing shoes. You've been spotted in them seven times, dancing. The front with the waves etched in, that's how I knew." Maren waved her finger at the leather stitchwork as they walked in tandem, the crest of ocean falling, splash, on his toes. Maren sighed irritably and wrapped her leg over his, and they leaned together.

"Hmm," said Jeremy slowly. Maren was still mumbling about his shoes when he spun her explosively. The crowd loved it. When Maren faced him her eyes were slitted and tears were forming.

Jeremy pulled her close and tried to hide her face in the crook of his arm. "Easy!" he whispered. "Everyone's watching."

She sobbed softly at first, and then louder, her tender hold on his back turning to a clawing grip. Then she pushed against his chest and twirled out of his arms, and attempted to slap him across the face. He managed to grab her hand mid-slap and forced her to caress his cheek.

"Oh my word!" gasped an elderly couple at the spicy display of passion.

"How dare you!" she spat and tried a dance kick at his face, but she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. Jeremy sidestepped and caught her ankle on his shoulder and then grabbed her hand before she hit the ground. "Real smooth." He pulled her up, twirling her leg off his shoulder. "I've never seen you so unnerved." He began to circle her, tapping a syncopated beat with his busy shoes.

Maren frowned and attempted to walk away from the dance, but Jeremy grabbed her by the shoulders from behind. "You know," he whispered, leaning in towards Maren, "I was just about to contact you." He bent her backwards over his thigh. She snapped back up and faced him.

"I imagined after the initial shock of returning, we'd try to figure out what happened to us on Earth." Her voice was tense. "Four months have passed. Four months since my mother died!"

"You needed time to mourn." The music slowed to a ballad, and Jeremy stepped to Maren and held her tight as she struggled against him.

Maren knew, as an excuse, it sounded sensible, but as a bluff, it was the most insensitive thing Jeremy could have said. "You're a liar, a shallow, self-absorbed liar, and I was wrong to ever think otherwise!"

"Let's be discreet, please." Jeremy smiled at a nosy journalist who had entered the dancefloor to capture a shot of their slow dance, and then turned back to Maren. His eyes flashed her a warning, and then they danced in silence for the remainder of the song.

The ballad crept into its final note and the last dance was done.

Jeremy released Maren and she turned from him and marched to the far corner of the room. He darted after her. Guards closed in behind them as journalists swarmed to capture one last picture.

They walked to a private booth. The lights were dimming. "Okay," said Jeremy after taking a seat across from Maren, "since that's out in the open, how about this: maybe I needed time to mourn! Me, me, me. Is that what you want to hear? This is all about me!" Jeremy gripped the table and sent a ripple of electricity along its surface. A fork leapt up into the air.

"I just want the truth, no need to make a caricature of yourself!" Maren tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. She grabbed a nearby cushion for protection and put it on her lap.

"Like I'm going to hurt you," sneered Jeremy. He stood up and paced back and forth next to the booth, glancing at Maren's lap. "You never could tell when I'm being honest."

"Enlighten me." Maren clutched her armor.

Jeremy drew in a deep breath. "Okay, I am mourning. I wasn't being sarcastic, sadistic, whatever you're thinking."

Maren pursed her lips together.

For a second, Jeremy could see Gillian: her dimples in the corners of Maren's mouth, her high, angular cheek bones. Jeremy had to look away. "I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "She didn't have to die. I left her behind in the Haze."

"Why?" she managed.

"I left both of your parents behind, actually. I thought everyone was going to die. No one could breathe. I couldn't carry everyone. I took you and my father."

Maren looked up. "But my dad, he lived...."

"Lyrna helped me find a rip in the Haze that led to the hospital. She found Mateo and your mother, but it was too late for her."

Maren sighed. So that was it. That's why he'd avoided her. Guilt. "Why didn't you just tell me? I'd have understood."

"Right," he snorted. "Because you made it real easy for me to open up tonight."

Wantoro made the announcement for cake. The cake was cut and slices were handed out. Lilac, Jeremy's cousin, was becoming petulant, and so was quietly whisked away to her quarters. Jeremy and Maren snuck back to Jeremy's room.

Maren took a seat on his royal bed. He slid his vest off and unbuttoned his collar, tossing his bow tie into his bow tie drawer. He stepped out of his famous shoes and filed them in the appropriate slot in his shoe rack. Maren hoped that was the extent of his disrobing.

"I'm sorry, it's just that the press has you seeming... so you. It's like you've never changed."

"And you believe the press?"

"There's always a kernel of truth. What about your girlfriend?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes and lifted Maren to her feet.

There was a knock on the door.

Maren instinctually said, "Put your clothes back on!" She immediately regretted doing so. Jeremy grinned and took his silk shirt off, revealing a muscular torso and chiseled abs. Maren gasped and waved her hands about.

"Just a second!" called Jeremy, delighted at Maren's frantic display of prudery. He opened the door.

An older female servant, dressed in black slacks and a pinstriped dress shirt, took quick note of the partially nude Cajjez and Maren sitting on his bed and looked away. "Please pardon my interruption, Cajjez. Your, ahem, father sent me to confirm your location."

"Of course, Hilga. Here I am." He spread his arms out. "Let him know I'm all tied up at the moment, and would be happy to field any further questions in the morning."

The servant eye him suspiciously and then exited.

Jeremy sauntered over to his closet and then slid another shirt on. "Watch this." He pushed a square green button beside his closet and a floor panel slid back. Two crushed velvet ottomans rose from the compartment, a sleek wooden coffee table between them.

"Very nice," said Maren.

Since things were pretty awkward anyway, he decided to cut to the chase. "Did I tell you that I'm Apollyon?" Jeremy blurted out. His hand trembled as he pulled the ottoman aside and took a seat.

"Hmm?" Maren took her hair out from her bun and shook it free. It draped her slender shoulders in loose waves.

"There was a force field. Mantel's voice was in my head." This was going to be more difficult than he'd imagined. It wasn't that Maren wouldn't believe him―after everything she'd been through with him, she'd have to believe him. But would she stick around once she knew what he was?

"Jeremy," she said, taking his hands in her own. "I'm ready for the truth. Please, don't hold back." Her face softened and she squeezed his hand. "I saw you on the ground. You were... twitching and grabbing your head. We were all screaming and shouting. You said something. Mantel was quiet. What happened?"

Jeremy could see it in his mind's eye: the small, hunched body of Mantel gliding towards him, Mantel's dark, boding stare, the faces of the dead pressed up against his pink skin, mucous oozing. Jeremy felt sick. This was it. This was the moment he'd dreaded. "Mantel told me that I'm Apollyon. I'm the Angel of the Bottomless Pit."

"What?" Maren shook her head.

"Mantel's voice was inside my head. He said he was Cain, that my ancestor Vordin Chikalto was an angel who was cursed for returning Cain to Earth from the Haze. Vordin restored Cain to his body, but that wasn't God's will. Cain had a mark, a curse. Vordin Chikalto's disobedience meant that one of his descendants would inherit this curse. I'm the curse." Jeremy looked away.

"So you're an angel?" She blinked. The words sounded ridiculous. "You've always looked so similar to Vordin Chikalto." Maren pointed to an elaborate war tapestry that depicted Vordin Chikalto in battle on Earth. "You have the same eyes."

Jeremy appreciated her polite, quiet tone, but felt he wasn't getting through. "He told me I'm Apollyon, Maren." Jeremy's voice had an edge to it.

Maren released his hands and drew back with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't understand, and well, I've done some research." Jeremy rose from the ottoman and went to his shelf. He grabbed a thick notebook with "Apollyon" written in calligraphy on the front and opened to a page. A painting of a demon, massive with red scales, curved horns, jet-black wings, and cruel teeth, leered up from the page. In its mangled, blistery hands, it held the corpse of a man.

Maren put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Jeremy that's not you!"

"Listen to this. It's in Revelation 9." Jeremy flipped through some pages and settled on one with worn edges. Before he could read, Maren began reciting the passages aloud, word for word:

1. Then the fifth angel blew his trumpet, and I saw a star that had fallen to earth from the sky, and he

was given the key to the shaft of the Bottomless Pit. 2. When he opened it, smoke poured out as though from a huge furnace, and the sunlight and air turned dark from the smoke. 3. Then locusts came from the smoke and descended on the Earth, and were given power to sting like scorpions.

"Hold on. When did you memorize those verses?" asked Jeremy, stunned by Maren's performance.

"Well, I memorized a little bit...."

"Of Revelation?"

Maren nodded.

"Why? And when? And how?"

Maren shifted uneasily in her chair. "I needed something to do after my mom passed, and it seemed like a good idea considering our situation. Plus I felt like it would give me some answers. As for how, plenty of monks have done so in the past. Neurologically speaking, you just have to use the brain's preference for visual and spacial information to your advantage by encoding every verse as an image."

Jeremy was a little uncomfortable with Maren's acumen. After a pause, he moved on. "So I think the smoke that pours out is supposed to be the Haze. I'm thinking I'm the star that falls to the earth from the sky."

Maren nodded slowly, as everything began to take shape in her mind.

"May I?" Jeremy gestured to the Bible. "So the star receives a key, and he opens the Haze, or the Bottomless Pit, I'm not sure, but these creatures come out of the smoke."

"The locusts."

"Right, but I'm thinking they're more like amalgamations. Locust-like, but also like scorpions and horses and other creatures." Jeremy returned to the text.

7. The locusts looked like horses prepared for battle. They had what looked like gold crowns on their heads, and their faces looked like human faces. 8. They had hair like women's hair and teeth like the teeth of a lion. 9. They wore armor made of iron, and their wings roared like an army of chariots rushing into battle. 10. They had tails that stung like scorpions, and for five months they had the power to torment people. 11. Their king is the angel from the Bottomless Pit; his name in Hebrew is Abaddon, and in Greek, Apollyon―the Destroyer.

Maren frowned. "So... these horrible creatures come from the Haze and torture people, and their King is Apollyon, and he's the Angel from the Bottomless Pit. And that's you?"

Jeremy pulled the notebook back. "Yes, but it gets ambiguous." He read from another page. "Revelation: 20."

1. Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven with the key to the bottomless pit and a heavy chain in his hand. 2. He seized the dragon―that old serpent, who is the devil, Satan―and bound him in chains for a thousand years. 3. The angel threw him into the Bottomless Pit, which he then shut and locked so Satan could not deceive the nations anymore until the thousand years were finished.

"So you're going to throw Satan into the Bottomless Pit?" Maren stammered.

"It depends on whether the star that falls from Heaven is the same being as the angel who seizes Satan. It may be that the first angel is a fallen angel―Apollyon―and the second angel is his adversary. Some scholars think that Apollyon is a messenger of God." Jeremy swallowed. "Others believe he is a demon. And then some believe he is the Anti-Christ, the one being thrown into the Bottomless Pit."
