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Driving alone through the Sahara blew Sarah-Beth’s mind. She woke up in the back of the Jeep, smoked a joint, popped a Black Beauty, and revved her engine full of thoughts and plans. She’d imagined driving with her head empty, like she’d thought the desert would be, but everything was full: palm trees, all sorts of scrub brush she couldn’t identify.
The reign of King Musa III had no place for things of the fantastical. He, unlike the previous kings, frowned against the thought of people who wielded the ability to veer situations with their hands. These types of people were wizards; grizzled and old, with vast years of experience at their disposal. King Musa III considered them dangerous, and that their primeval deeds would stain his reign.
“You can’t bid more than we agreed on. Please don’t get swept into it,” Jules said as we exited the BART on Market Street, the sun beating down at us. He shed a denim jacket while I suffered in my hoodie, which had made sense in Oakland, less so here. “You can’t believe what I saw when I temped at one of these divine auctions. I’m talking golden cattle, firstborn children, the smell of their grandma’s cookies.”
For the seventh dusk in a row, the human girl comes to our tree with an offering. She approaches on all fours, moving almost as clumsily as I do when I crawl from the knothole and amble out along my favorite branch. Her face is hidden by a ceremonial mask. It’s a simple wooden thing, not half so ornate as the ones I know humans fashioned in the time of our ancestors.
We called it the monster because we could, though none of us found the label to be particularly satisfying. After a certain point, Yerim started calling it the Logos Pilgrim. Which was understandable, seeing as how she was the most mystically inclined among us, as well as the most compassionate towards things we didn’t understand. And there were many things we didn’t understand. For one, where did it come from? And why was it here?
Once upon a time, there was a king who married a witch. Together, they had four sons and one daughter, and they were very happy as long as the king lived. When my father the king died and my oldest brother was crowned king, life went sideways for me, my sister, and our mother. The new king, our oldest brother, decided to use our sister as coin to buy our country’s safety. He planned to marry her to the king across a perilous border to our south.
Night to day. In Diyu, the Earth Prison, Chun Wei opened her eyes. “Day” in the realm of the dead registered only as a less pervasive chill to the stagnant air. Not that Chun Wei needed to breathe any longer. She unfolded from the lotus position she’d rested in, stretching and rubbing her balled fists against her lower back until her spine creaked. The dilapidated Guanyin temple had an intact roof and a semi-intact stone statue, hacked out of rock by denizens still hoping for salvation.
They were not so much rumors as warnings. Beyond the mountain that overlooked the plateau was an ancient forest, enormous and wild. It was dark and treacherous and full of dangerous animals. The warnings were not about the danger of the beasts, but rather the ancient legend of a knight who entered the forest to pray at a desecrated shrine. Why he decided to pray to a devil or demon was long forgotten, but the response from the evil that lived there was still known to everyone.
When Clem first realizes she’s a monster, she’s in the gender-neutral bathroom on the fourth floor of the Seattle Convention Center, trying to convince the touchless faucet she exists. She waves her hands under the gleaming tap, then, remembering something Sabrina told her about sensors, spirit-fingers her way down to the base. Tries a little to the left of that, too. A little to the right. Still—and now she’s for sure late—nothing.
I learned from Bernadette that there are two ways a star can go supernova. The first is in a double star where one partner dies first, turning into a white dwarf, and the surviving partner swells in grief and dumps mass onto the compact star. But the atoms of compact stars can only hold up to a certain limit. The resulting explosion destroys both stars and nothing is left except a thin nebula, returning the atoms to space.
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