Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Twenty-Four

The body fell quickly out of sight. The two sides arced over the edge of the cliff like lifeless fish, bloodless white flesh showing no signs it had ever been alive. She stood at the edge, looking out into the nothing, all the threads of the universe moving within it. The sword dropped from her hand. It was all too fast for her. Even with all her preparation she was not the still point she wished she could be.

There were two factors at play, though. It was not entirely her fault. The boy had been so sad, so calm. He had found the still point and lamented. It wasn't the calm she had looked for—only more wanting. Loneliness given form.

She reached out wildly and grabbed at the threads, her hands flailing. There were three threads that were the most important. She had to lean far into the void, only the balls of her feet keeping contact with the grassy edge. The great maple behind her rustled its leaves in warning. The threads brushed her fingers, but she couldn't grab hold and they wrinkled downward into the darkness like invisible ribbons. She began to run sideways along the cliff, stretching her arm as far as she could. Every few moments she could feel the slightest touch against her fingers, but nothing came up in her grasp.

The cliff ended in a long streamer of roots, the light above her shining down through the grasses at the edge in thick rays. Her footprints detached clods of dirt as she ran, and they went floating off into the void, trails of dust appearing suddenly as they entered the light from above.

The roots began to thin out, and her face contorted, her breath coming in sharp gasps. It had taken so long to come to this, why had she hesitated? She put on a burst of speed and finally grabbed hold of one of the threads. It turned red with a flash and traced a long, thin line down into the nothing. But there were two more she needed, and she was at the very bottom of the floating island. With the tip of her toe sliding down to the thinnest, most fibrous filament, she stretched as far as she could and made a last desperate grab. She was painfully aware that she was the last piece of reality to exist beneath the tree—reaching out into an endless nothing deeper and more terrifying than the infinity of space. When she pulled back, she found the second thread in her hand, but the third fell away, lost forever to the void.

The second thread did not glow. Perhaps she had gotten it too late. It was pale and thin, only the slightest connection to reality left.

She began to make her way back up to the tree,

The red thread was glowing brightly with a heartbeat pulse, but the pale one was lifeless and cold. Her footsteps were slow, the weight of the universe suspended over her shoulders. Each footstep sank deeper into the soft, earthy side of the cliff. She was so tired she would have stopped there and then, letting herself curl into the roots, comfortable and safe for all time, but her will was strong, tempered by that singular desire that had driven her onward all these years.

As she came to the edge, she moved carefully over the line of billowing grasses.

The fringe of her skirt curled elegantly as she arced upward and came back to level ground. She took the pale thread and wove it around the base of the tree, securing it carefully with a tidy knot. The other thread, glowing stronger now with excitement, she tied to the highest branch she could reach. It clung tightly and curled itself up and around the tree, making its way deep into the bark and shining brightly through cracks and crevices like veins. When it reached the pale thread, there was a spark of life, and from out in the void something rumbled—a low, triumphant call. The glowing thread, blowing out from the high branch, came whipping over the side of the cliff and curled in on itself, winding and arcing in calligraphic patterns in the air. It resolved into a red robe, its folds billowing like ocean waves. A light, like a star, glimmered off in the distance, and revealed itself in a sudden ray that embodied the robe and filled it out into the shape of a boy. He blinked once and looked at the woman.