Heartlight (9 page)

Then, abruptly, the music of Trethoniel faded away into silence.

“Where did it go?” cried Kate. She found herself clutching Morpheus’ neck. “It was so beautiful! Why did it stop?”

“I don’t know,” answered Morpheus, sounding worried.

Kate shook her head. “And how—how will we ever find Grandfather in there? Trethoniel’s system looks as big as a galaxy! He could be on any one of those planets—I see three or four at least—or somewhere on the other side where we can’t see him, or even inside the star itself!”

“Or,” added Morpheus grimly, “he could be in none of those places.”

Kate’s eyes fell from the radiant star to the butterfly ring upon her hand. She caught her breath. A large slice of the left wing was already gone!

Before she could even think the command, Morpheus beat his great wings again. Together, they sailed into the realm of Trethoniel.

V:
The Darkness

As if called by an inaudible voice, the great butterfly began beating his wings in a graceful rhythm. Steadily he carried Kate into the open arms of Trethoniel’s spiraling nebula. As they entered the shimmering, shifting layers of light, Morpheus began to glide. With great swoops from side to side, they sailed deeper into the star’s system, and nearer to the great red star itself.

Kate saw hundreds of objects, large and small, circling the star. In addition to the ones she had expected—planets, moons, asteroids—many strange and lovely formations danced around the star in stately orbit. Some seemingly solid forms were not solid at all when they were seen up close. Some were branching and bent like delicate ferns; others were pinnacles of clouds, whirling and swirling; still others looked like complex geometric crystals. She noticed one formation that resembled a gigantic snowflake, as large as a house. It sparkled like a great jewel as it slowly twirled in space. She wished Grandfather could see this; she could imagine the light of discovery in his eyes. Or had he, perhaps, already seen it?

Morpheus banked to the right to avoid a tangle of holohedral crystals that seemed to be swimming in tight formation, like a school of minnows. As the red light of Trethoniel glistened upon them, Kate wondered if there could be new forms of life here, life totally unlike anything on Earth. She knew how Grandfather would answer her question:
Only God knows the answer to that one, Kaitlyn. But if you keep asking
. . .

“Look there,” said Morpheus, his antennae pointing to a creamy white globe emerging from a billowing mass of colored clouds in the distance. “It’s Trethoniel’s most remote planet.”

“It looks like a big snowball,” observed Kate. “I had no idea a planet could be so white.”

She checked the butterfly ring. Nearly half of the ornament’s left wing had disappeared, as had part of the left antenna. How fleeting would be her glimpse of Trethoniel!

As she gazed over Morpheus’ broad wings and looked about herself, Kate’s thoughts drifted momentarily from her search for Grandfather and the plight of the Sun. She was sailing inside a sanctuary, a slice of the universe all but unknown to earthbound observers. She knew that many great scientists (including the members of the Royal Society) would kill for the chance to see all this. How ironic that such an experience should be wasted on a girl who couldn’t even stand science class.

“Wasted is a strong word,” admonished Morpheus, as he banked to avoid an orbiting asteroid. “Maybe there is some aspect of Trethoniel that you can appreciate better than anyone else.”

Kate furrowed her brow. “But I’m not a great scientist or a great anything!”

“That is true,” answered Morpheus with a wave of his antennae. “You are just plain Kate. One day, perhaps, your great qualities will rise above your great insecurities.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded. “You barely know me! You don’t have any idea what a dunce I can be.”

“I know you better than you realize.” Morpheus turned his head and observed his passenger closely. “You, Kate, could change the course of the stars.”

“Me?” Her gaze fell. “I’d be lucky to change the course of an asteroid! I can’t even get Grandfather to eat regular meals, for heaven’s sake! How could I possibly make a difference to a star?”

The butterfly shook his antennae in discouragement. “I’m coming to the conclusion that it would be easier to make a difference to a whole galaxy of stars than to convince you you’re anything special.”

“Just help me find Grandfather,” said Kate testily. “That’s enough for me.”

As the gleaming white planet disappeared into a collection of clouds, a new formation, shimmering in the stellar breeze, caught Kate’s attention. It resembled a kind of curtain, a curtain made of thousands of lavender-tinted icicles. She heard them tinkling gently as the winds passed through them, and the soothing sound helped her mood to pass as well. The lavender curtain glowed invitingly and billowed outward, as if in greeting, as they sailed by.

At that very moment, a vague and shadowy form was gathering itself deep within the bowels of the star. When seen from far away, it resembled a sinister cloud, darker than the foulest pollution ever to belch forth from any smokestack. So huge was its expanse that it could, in repose, obscure a large section of the star from view.

As it drew itself together, the dark form began to knot and tighten until, finally, it had condensed itself into a long, snakelike body—a body so dense that not even the powerful light of Trethoniel could pierce it, a body so black that only one name could describe it.

The Darkness.
It was the ultimate void coalesced into a creature. Wherever The Darkness appeared, light withdrew; even as it slithered through space, it erased any light in its path.

The writhing shape of The Darkness lifted itself toward the unsuspecting travelers with frightening speed. Like a vast entrail of emptiness, it gleamed coldly in the starlight, a long and twisting mass with no discernable features save the single red eye, more a swirling electrical storm than an organ of sight, that glowed like an ember in its darkest place. As The Darkness streaked toward the travelers, waves of negative energy crackled around the red eye.

Suddenly, Morpheus felt a tingle of foreboding in his antennae. From the corner of his eye he could see the dark shape approaching rapidly. He swerved sharply and started to climb away from Trethoniel, beating his wings with all of his power.

“What’s going on?” shouted Kate, caught by surprise. “Where are you—”

Her question was interrupted by the sight of the frightening form snaking toward them, leaving a trail of impenetrable blackness in its wake.

The Darkness coiled its fearsome tail and prepared to throw it like a mighty whip. With a searing explosion of negative energy, the tail lashed out, eliminating all the light in its path. It struck at precisely the spot where the travelers would have been but for Morpheus’ quick change of direction. The whiplike crack of the tail sent powerful shock waves racing outward, demolishing the lavender curtain of crystals and several other formations floating nearby.

The shock waves crashed into Kate and Morpheus, sending them spinning through space. A hail of splintered crystals pounded them like a torrential rain.

“Help!” cried Kate when, for an instant, her legs lost their grip on the butterfly’s back. She started to pitch to one side, as fear seized her. “I’m going to fall!”

“Hold on!” commanded Morpheus, wheeling around and dipping one wing like a rudder to regain his balance. “I won’t let you fall!”

As the butterfly righted himself, Kate’s panic ebbed only slightly. “I thought you said I couldn’t fall off!” she exclaimed, grasping his neck tightly with her arms.

“This creature must be made of some kind of anti-light!” cried Morpheus. “And it’s strong enough to separate us.”

“Then get us out of here!”

At that instant, the terrible tail struck again. With the weight of a massive moon, it smashed into a large asteroid floating just behind Morpheus. The asteroid exploded in a violent blast, throwing them into an uncontrolled spin. They tumbled through space like a leaf in a hurricane.

“Help!” screamed Kate in terror, as she started to slide off her perch. Her arms and hands clung desperately to Morpheus’ broad neck, but the shock waves from the explosion knocked them upside down, then sideways, then upside down again.

She was slipping!

“Hold on!” cried Morpheus, working his wings desperately to halt their spin.

She tried to hold on to the morpho’s neck with all her strength. Her heart pounded like a thundering drum. But the tighter she squeezed, the more she slipped to the side. Her fingers dug into the black fur covering the butterfly’s body. With a final effort, she reached for one of Morpheus’ slender legs . . .

Too late! She slid off the butterfly and fell headlong into the swirling mists.

She screamed—but the whirling winds screamed louder. Wildly she flailed her arms and legs.

Down, down, down she plummeted, like a sack of stones. So fast was she spinning that she could not see the floating crystals whizzing past her, nor even the great mass of Trethoniel itself coming closer and closer.

Nor could she see another shape, dark and sinewy, racing toward her. The red eye of The Darkness pulsed with desire as it drew nearer, approaching fast.

“Help me!” Kate shouted as she tumbled downward. “Morpheus!”

“I am coming!” the butterfly called, as he dove headlong to catch her. He rocketed past clouds and crystals like a shooting star. Then, to Morpheus’ great horror, the serpentine form of The Darkness expanded at the end nearest to Kate, as if it were opening a cavernous mouth.

Morpheus beat his wings with all his might. Never before had he flown so fast! Now she was within his reach—even as the shadowy shape closed in from below.

With a crackling of negative energy, The Darkness closed itself about Kate, just a fraction of an instant before Morpheus shot past.

She was gone!

*  *  *

Suddenly, Kate felt herself completely embraced by darkness: damp, cold, and stifling. Her fall had been broken. But by what? At first the coldness reminded her of the ghost in Grandfather’s lab—but this coldness was different: It was far more powerful, penetrating, and frightening. The ghost had been a chilling breeze, but this was more like an Arctic blast.

“Morpheus!” she cried, but the word could not pass beyond the heavy darkness surrounding her.

Gradually, Kate perceived something new. An eerie reddish glow began to flow toward her from all sides. And as it flowed it throbbed, like an aching wound. As irresistible as lava streaming down the cone of a volcano, the glow pressed upon her, trying to smother her.

She gasped.
I’m—I’m suffocating in here!

The glow grew redder and deeper. It was everywhere. It was everything.

Kate writhed and kicked to get away from it. But there was no place to go. The glow gripped her even more tightly. Breathing with great difficulty, she put her hand on her chest, directly over her heart. It felt so weak! The beating seemed to be getting slower, fainter. Everything inside her felt squeezed, as if she were caught in the middle of a powerful vise.

She labored to breathe, but the red glow only grew stronger. It felt less like a color and more like a heavy woolen blanket, tightening around her, pressing the life out of her.

“Morpheus!” she cried. “Please help me!”

But Morpheus was too far away to hear, too far away to answer.

The deadly blanket grew heavier. Tighter. Everything around her was pulsing, squeezing, suspending Kate in its cold grasp. With shock, Kate realized that even her own breathing had taken on the same irresistible rhythm. She tried to move, but movement was increasingly difficult. She forced herself to inhale deeply—to break free from the powerful pulse. But its suffocating pressure was too strong. She broke into a spasm of coughing.

A bolt of fear shot through her.
I’m going to die! This thing is killing me!

Then something inside of her stirred. Something deeper than fear. Something living, and breathing, and angry.

No
, she protested weakly.
I don’t want to die.

The red glow pushed violently against her chest, and she coughed uncontrollably.

Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to regain a last measure of self-control. Instinctively, she moved her arm through the smothering cloud and touched her ring—the ring that Grandfather made, the ring that brought Morpheus to life. Somewhere deep within herself, a small candle was kindled.

With great difficulty, she drew in a shallow breath. But it was her own breath, to her own rhythm.
No! You can’t have me. I won’t let you.

Slowly, a new feeling started to swell inside her. Gradually, very gradually, her heart began to grow stronger, even as her breathing grew a little easier. The deadly vise seemed to loosen, one notch at a time, until she could feel some of her own strength returning. She kicked her legs angrily. Before long a new illumination seemed to fill her chest, and its warmth flowed through her every artery, like a cascade of liquid starlight.

Haltingly, unwillingly, the red glow began to recede. As the light within Kate expanded, The Darkness itself grew slightly thinner, so that she could suddenly see traces of Trethoniel’s light through the shadowy folds around her.

She started to swim toward the light, pushing her way with all of her strength.

Then the air crackled vengefully, and the curtain of darkness started to descend again. A new wave of fear coursed through Kate.

“Morpheus!” she cried, before breaking into an uncontrollable spasm of coughing. “Help me! I—can’t—breathe!”

*  *  *

Morpheus hurtled past The Darkness at a speed faster than lightning. What it was and where it came from he did not know; all he knew was that it had swallowed Kate.

Cutting a wide arc through the swirling mists, he swung around to face the great writhing mass, whose red eye now blazed in triumph. Like an arrow shot from a mighty bow, Morpheus soared straight into battle.

The shadowy being condensed itself ever more tightly as it began to squeeze the life out of its prey. Suddenly Morpheus streaked past, almost brushing the red eye with his wing. The eye sizzled and crackled with rage and turned its attention to the riderless butterfly.