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I nod slowly. The voice is right. No point freaking out when my eyes might be perfectly fine. I concentrate, drawing upon the magic. I’m not much good at fighting, but let’s see how I fare in other areas.
I imagine a ball of light, small, not too bright, like the bulb in my bedroom at home. A simple ball of light — that can’t be too much to ask for.
But it is. I can’t generate one. Or else I’ve created light but can’t see it.
No, the voice says. You’d know if you had done it. There is no light.
“So I can’t tell if I’m blind or not. Though I don’t suppose it matters much. If this darkness holds, I might as well be blind.”
The voice doesn’t answer immediately. Then, as if speaking to a simpleton, it says, Remember the chess board?
“What about it?”
It had black squares and white squares. If those squares correspond to the worlds within the Board...
“. . . then half the maze is dark and half is bright!” I shout.
Exactly. So all you have to do is find your way to a white square. Then you’ll see again.
“Unless I’m in a white square already and I’m blind,” I quibble.
Just walk! the voice snaps.
Stumbling through the maze. I’ve given up trying to keep track of my route. It’s too large to map without a pen and paper (and light). I just have to keep walking and hope that I eventually find my way out by (blind) luck.
I think about the demon master’s castle and how familiar it seemed. I wonder if I saw it that first time I crossed through a window into the universe of the Demonata. I guess there’s a strong possi
bility that I did, especially given the fact that I saw Lord Loss beforehand.
I still can’t remember anything about that trip. I try again to recall what happened when I vanished from my bedroom, where I went, if I came to Lord Loss’s world. But it’s a blank.
Thinking about that night reminds me of how lonely I was. Without the patches of light I feel lonely again, like before Art came along. I hated being an only child after Annabella died. I think I’ve risked so much for my brother not just because I love him, but because I’m afraid of being alone. He’s the only true friend I’ve ever had.
For some reason I find myself thinking about leaving our home in the city. Dad tucking me down in the backseat of the car, handing Art to me, covering us with a blanket, telling me to pretend we had to hide. Mom looking worried. “Take care of your brother, Kernel. Protect him.”
Then my memory cuts to Art playing with the orange marbles in Sally’s house. Holding them up, the marbles twinkling in front of his eyes. I had the sense that he’d been possessed by an evil spirit. That must have been a vision of what was to come. If Art remains with Lord Loss, and the demon master keeps him alive, will he raise him like one of his familiars? Give him evil powers? Bring him up to be monstrous...to kill?
The marbles are still in my pocket. I pull one out, to have something to touch that isn’t a webby wall. I roll it between my fingers, careful not to drop it. It helps calm me down. A pity I can’t see — I could play a game with the marbles if I had some light.
As I think that, I feel magic seep through my fingers into the marble — and it starts to glow! A soft orange light. I gasp and clutch my fingers tight around it, scared my mind is playing tricks, not wanting to be disappointed.
Staring down at the space where I imagine my hand to be. Slowly, hesitantly, I allow my fingers to loosen — and light flashes through the cracks! With a burst of relief I thrust my hand up and let more magic burst into the marble. It flares to life, causing my eyelids to snap shut. I pull back some of the power, then open my lids slowly, not looking directly at the marble.
I can see! I must have been in a black square of the maze all along, as my inner voice suggested. Not that sight is much of a bonus here. All I see are webby walls and a floor. Several feet above me hangs the ceiling, a mass of black webs, impossible to see through.
I smile weakly, gazing at the orange marble throwing off the light, feeling more grateful to it than I ever thought possible. I mean, how many people can say their lives have been enriched by a marble!
Then, because I can’t stand here gazing at the marble all day like it’s some godly artifact, I bring my hand down, hold it slightly ahead of me to light my path, and continue working my way through the seemingly endless maze.
Not long after. Making my way down a narrow path much like any other, when I hear a sound somewhere ahead and to the left. I pause, listening carefully. Nothing for a few seconds. But then it comes again, a soft ripping noise, then giggling.
I advance cautiously, dimming the orange light. I think about letting it go out completely, but then not only wouldn’t the person or creature around the corner not be able to see me — I wouldn’t be able to see them.
I pause at the corner. Listen closely. More ripping sounds. An occasional giggle. I think about calling Dervish or Shark’s name. Dismiss the idea — I never heard Dervish or Shark giggle like that.
I cup my fingers around the marble, directing the light upwards. Step forward, around the corner.
It takes my eyes a second to adjust. Then I make out a small shape sitting by the wall to my right, maybe fifteen feet ahead of me. A baby. Pulling at the webs, tearing handfuls out of the wall, eating them. “Art!” I shout, letting the light brighten and my fingers drop.
