half her face melted away. The burning house reflected in her eyes as she looked around, assessing her surroundings. The red and black irises shone, as if she found something amusing.
“It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” she said, then pointed to the trail of mist leading from Sam. “Why don’t you let me have this one? You can always find another brother somewhere else. What do you say?”
“What happened to you?” Mara asked.
Abby turned her scarred cheek toward Mara. “Oh, you mean this?” She grinned and waved a hand over it. “Perhaps you would be more comfortable with this.” Abby’s features shifted and smoothed. The damage was undone. Other than the strange eyes, it was the Abby who Mara knew.
“I wasn’t talking about your appearance. What are you hoping to accomplish with all this?” Mara held out her arms to the sphere. “Why are you taking these people against their wills and abandoning them between realms?”
Abby laughed. “Abandoning them? You make it sound so wanton and heartless. I mean them no harm. The fact that they are sacrificed for the greater good is incidental and quite necessary. After all, one incarnation is a small price to pay in the battle for a more perfect reality. Don’t you agree?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Abby smiled and nodded toward the dark contrails inside the sphere. “I know. Let’s just say, circumstances have forced me to improvise. Think of them as collateral damage. But don’t fret. I’m sure most of them are living out other mundane existences in other places. Their loss is inconsequential.”
“What makes you think that’s up to you? Who died and left you in charge?”
“Abby did. She died so I could be born.” Her gaze slowly followed the arc of the sphere and then settled on Mara. “Unlike these poor souls, you sacrificed all of her, all that she was or could be, to save yourself. You don’t seem to be losing any sleep over that or over those you have killed in your pursuit of what you think is correct. I’m no different than you.”
Mara slammed her fists against the edge of the bubble and screamed, “Why are you doing this?” Nothing happened. She looked down at her hands, and they were flickering.
Abby shook her head and said, “Tick-tock. Time’s running out.”
“What do you want from me?” Mara asked. “Leave my brother alone, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Unfortunately that’s not possible. In a way he provides safe passage for me into his realm. As you can see from my injuries, simply stepping into an unknown realm can be somewhat problematic, if you are not prepared for, say, something like an atmosphere that is too acidic for your complexion. Your little brother and his friends help me find safe harbors, as I prepare myself.”
“Prepare yourself for what?”
Abby’s eyes twinkled. “For battle.”
“Who are you preparing to battle?” Mara asked.
“You, of course. Only one of us can determine the course of events.”
Mara raised her arms, as if surrendering. “By all means, have at it. You determine the course of events—whatever the hell that means. Just leave Sam alone.”
“Unfortunately that’s not how this works.” Abby looked away dismissively. “You are a disappointment. It’s almost incomprehensible that you choose to remain ignorant in this little backwater of a realm, when endless possibilities—and endless power—are at your fingertips. Look at you, standing there whining for your brother, like some weak little waif. It’s pathetic.”
Abby reached out an upturned palm, and blue light from the periphery of the sphere gathered above it. It grew and spun, until it transformed into the ball of molten mercury. She twisted her wrist, and the lines and nodes that filled the sphere turned with it. Reaching up to her left, she pointed to a node just out of reach.
“Now, in this realm, that brother of yours is a real spitfire. It’s a realm of cannibals, and you know how he likes to eat. Why don’t we go get him to assuage your loss? I’m sure he’s a lot more entertaining that this one.” She glanced up at the trail of mist streaming from Sam into the dark opening behind her.
Again Mara slammed her fists against the edge of the sphere. It thrummed and resisted. Holding up her arms, she watched them flicker more rapidly. They grew more transparent by the second.
“Look,” Abby said. “We seem to be making some progress again.”
The sparkling stream leading from Sam inched forward; more of him melted away. Firelight