HOSTAGE: Tales of the Void #5

by | 6 April 2022

Now that the harbingers have tasted my blood, they can follow me anywhere.

I’m a hostage in my own body.

ā€œYou must have a death wish.ā€ Major’s gaze is dark. ā€œIf we’d done it my way, we could be out of this already.ā€

Nerves frazzled, I can’t help resorting to my tried-and-true mask of humor. ā€œDon’t you want to find out who the Celestials are?ā€

He scowls. ā€œNo.ā€

Fair enough. But we have no choice now.

We must track down the Celestials—somehow—and lead the harbingers behind us so the fiery, soul-sucking, void-beasts can exterminate them.

If we don’t? I finger the throbbing puncture wound in my neck where the harbinger’s claws pierced me, and a shiver trails my spine.

ā€œHow do we find the Celestials?ā€ I glance around the underground bunker as if a clue will manifest itself.

ā€œVoids if I know.ā€ Major shoves a hand through his tangled hair, still glaring.

Kip nudges my hand, tilting his head earnestly.

The rest of Major’s team dismissed—they still have a chance to escape the harbingers, unlike us—the star-dog, Kip, is my only pleasant company, and I reach down to ruffle his ears to steady my pounding heart.

He noses my palm again.

I frown. ā€œWhat is it, Kip?ā€

The silvery dog bounds to Major.

Major frowns too. What’s Kip fooling around for? It’s almost like… he’s trying to tell us something.

I glance at Major. ā€œYou can understand him, right? Hear him in your head?ā€

Major grunts. ā€œHe seems to think he knows how to reach the Celestials.ā€

What a pair we make: me with the ability to see invisible things, like Kip, and breathe in the Void; Major able to communicate with animals.

I know my ability was granted by Wishing Stardust; after my older brother was taken by the Void, my parents Wished that the same fate would not take me… but how did Major get his ability?

Before I can ask, Major’s words sink in. ā€œKip knows the Celestials?ā€ I stare at the shimmering dog.

He wags his tail.

Hope grows. Instead of leading the harbingers to destroy the Celestials, I could lead the harbingers into an ambush.

Let’s just hope that the Celestials aren’t even more murderous than the harbingers.

I glance between Kip and Major. ā€œSo, how do we get to them?ā€

Kip shakes himself furiously, shedding stardust.

Major starts. ā€œAn untethered portal? We’ll be lost in the void.ā€

ā€œSorry, what?ā€ I eye him.

ā€œYou’ll guide us?ā€ Major snorts. ā€œHow do you know howā€”ā€

Kip cocks his head at Major, and the mercenary stills, then growls. ā€œFine. Only because we have no better plan.ā€

I raise my eyebrows. ā€œWhat was all that?ā€

Major’s jaw twitches. ā€œKip can guide us through an untethered portal.ā€

I don’t know much about portals, but Major’s ā€œwe’ll be lost in the voidā€ is enough to make me pause.

Ā ā€œYou’re sure you can guide us?ā€ I look at Kip.

The star-dog nods.

I release a breathy laugh. ā€œGuess that’s the best we can do, then.ā€ I turn to Major. ā€œFire up the portal.ā€

Tense, Major taps his watch, then pulls on an oxygen mask. A circle growls in midair until it spans from floor to ceiling in this cramped stone bunker. The portal swirls with purple so deep it’s almost black.

Like the endless, maddening void.

Kip bounds to the portal’s rim.

ā€œAll together?ā€ I suggest.

Major shoots me one last glare, then we step through.

The vacuum of the Void sucks at my lungs, leaving me breathless as I tumble through nothingness. I feel thin, stretched, empty.

Alone.

My heart lurches, but something brushes past my hand, and I grab hold of Kip’s soft coat like a lifeline.

My feet hit the ground, and I drop to my hands and knees, chest shuddering. Light gleams through my eyelids. Thank the stars for the feeling of solid ground!

I look up and my jaw drops.

Starlight coats everything in silvers and blues. High overhead, a manta ray formed from clustered stars soars through nebulous clouds of deep purple, trailing stardust in its wake. Shadows of buildings loom, rimmed in silver. Spindly trees spread leaves like diamonds.

Major struggles to his knees beside me, his face ghostly.

A figure towers between us and the dazzling beauty beyond. My vision doubles—for a moment, I think it’s the effects of the oxygenless void—and the figure triples, then quadruples, surrounding us in a ring of shadowy brilliance.

I stare at the paradox.

Beings formed of light—coalesced galaxies, not unlike Kip. But between the myriad of constellations, the darkness is physical, tangible.

Beautiful and deadly in equal measures, these beings are embodiments of the universe itself.

Kip prances between us and the looming star-people, tail sweeping.

I rise, palms out in a gesture of peace or surrender. Or both. ā€œCelestials?ā€ To my shock, my question is audible despite the lack of atmosphere. Or is it inside my head?

Major stands too. ā€œWe come in peace.ā€

The first Celestial seems to grow taller. ā€œI sense the mark of the harbingers on you.ā€

My stomach knots. ā€œThey sent us, yes, but we’re not with them.ā€

ā€œYour mark will lead them to us. We cannot riskā€”ā€

This sounds too much like the lead-up to ā€œnow we shall kill youā€, but before the Celestial can finish, Kip bounds toward them, then darts back to my side, nosing beneath my hand.

A ripple of interest runs through the watching Celestials.

Ā ā€œJust hear me out.ā€ I have to convince them to help. ā€œWhat if we team up? Set an ambush and drive the harbingers away for good?ā€

I might not know much about Celestials, but they haven’t killed us on sight. I’m willing to side with them sooner than the harbingers. Plus, Kip seems to like them.

ā€œAt least hear my plan?ā€ I plead.

The Celestials exchange a glance, then the leader nods. ā€œWe will listen.ā€

Jane Maree

Jane Maree

Jane Maree is an Australian writer, adventurer at heart, beloved daughter of the King of Kings, and believer in at least six impossible things before breakfast. Raised on fairy tales, scraped knees, and makeshift swords, she has yet to outgrow any of them. In her day job, Jane teaches music and freelances as an editor, but by night she crafts daring stories of broken heroes overcoming extraordinary odds.

0 Comments

About Me

Monthly Newsletter

My Posts—Your Emails

Enter your email address to subscribe to my blog and receive notifications of new posts via email.

Recent Posts

Archives

Pin It on Pinterest