back a bit. As a matter of fact, it might be best for you to go back to the kitchen.”
Stepping back, Diana stopped at the foot of the stairs. “This is as far as I go.”
“No time to argue,” Mara said.
Facing the living room, she raised her hands. She leaned toward the blue bubble, pressing her palms against its static edge. She ignored the tingling of electricity making the hair stand up on her arms and pushed. Invisible resistance kept her from piercing the blue boundary or entering the room. Stepping back, she watched, as the trail of mist from the chair seeped away, and the gaping hole grew larger, lengthened into a more vertical tear. Splaying her hands before her, Mara shot bolts of lightning into the barrier. The energy exploded into a sunburst of craggy lines that shot around the sphere’s circumference, reuniting at a single point directly in front of her, where it arced into the air, striking her in the chest. Mara slammed into the side of the staircase and crumpled to the floor.
Before stars overwhelmed her vision, she saw a silhouette, standing in the dark opening at the center of the blue sphere. She could have sworn it was Abby. Then everything went black.
A few minutes later Mara felt someone lightly patting her cheek. While she felt consciousness returning, she still couldn’t seem to operate her eyelids, like there was some disconnect between her brain and the muscles that operated them. Someone had her by the shoulders, shaking her. That seemed to help, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Mara?” Diana looked down at her. Apparently she was on the floor just outside the living room.
“Mom? What happened?” Mara said.
“I think you shocked yourself trying to help Cam,” her mother said.
Mara bolted upright. “Cam! Is he all right?”
Crouched next to Mara, Diana squeezed the hand that rested on her shoulder. “It looks like he’s gone. Whatever that was took him, at least his head.”
Mara tried to stand, but Diana didn’t move back, and Mara didn’t seem to have the energy to push her out of the way. Diana held up a hand. “Just sit there for a second and make sure you’re okay.”
Mara glanced into the living room. The bubble was gone. The black hole was gone. Cam was gone.
Wide-eyed, Mara turned to her mother. “It was the bubble, the Chronicle. She’s using the Chronicle to take the passengers.”
“What are you talking about, sweetie?”
“Didn’t you see it? The electric blue transparent sphere?” Mara asked.
“Yes, I saw it. It certainly looked like the same phenomenon that we experienced with the Chronicle.”
“Did you see her? Did you see Abby?”
Diana looked confused. “Abby? No, I didn’t see Abby. What are you talking about?”
“Inside that black hole. I’m sure I saw Abby in there.”
“Why on earth would Abby want to take Cam’s head?” Diana asked.
“I don’t know. That’s what I have to find out.”
CHAPTER 42
Even though it was after seven in the morning, it looked like night outside. While it wasn’t raining yet, thick dark clouds loomed over everything, threatening all kinds of weather. Mara adjusted the heat blowing onto her windshield, so it would hit her feet, while Sam loaded his books and things into the backseat. When he hopped into the passenger seat, she put the Outback into gear and backed out of the driveway. The day looked to be the same color as their slate-colored Craftsman house.
“You look terrible,” Sam said.
Mara took a sip of coffee from her travel mug and didn’t reply. She decided to use her energies to concentrate on navigating.
“I think it might be a good idea for you to stay home for a few days. You’ve really been going nonstop for weeks now, and the wear and tear is starting to show,” he said.
“Do tell.”
“I’m serious. Battling dragons, dealing with weird things popping up in the living room, apothoseses, zombies …” He reached up and turned the rearview mirror directly at her pale face. Dark circles hung below her puffy eyes.
She smacked his hand off the mirror, readjusted it and said, “The word is Aphotis.” She spelled it out and added, “Prado merged his consciousness with Abby’s and became the Aphotis. Don’t ask me what the plural form is. Maybe Aphoti or Aphotises? Who knows? Anyway the zombies were like weeks ago. All cast out—old news, Sam.”
“That was last week, sis. Your big fight with Prado on the roof of the shop was nine days ago, two days before Thanksgiving, which was just a