Across The Universe Part 1

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE.

by Raine Winters.

Chapter One.

The House is a maze of marble halls and wooden doors that lead everywhere or nowhere, depending on which way you choose to go.

Though I have not been there before, today is the day I go everywhere.

My footsteps echo down the hollow corridor as I walk, but Nim's do not. She treads softly, without sound, and I draw away from her presence, embarra.s.sed that I am not as quiet as she is. I fall behind her, seeking safety in her shadow as I follow her past splintered frames and tarnished k.n.o.bs.

"Remember not to speak unless spoken to," she tells me. Her voice is smooth and cold, like the marble floor beneath us.

"Yes, Nim," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but the shaking in my words gives me away.

Nim glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "And remember to have patience while you wait to be a.s.signed. Members of The House don't like to be rushed."

"Yes, Nim."

I almost trip over her heels when she stops in front of a particularly worn door. The wood is washed gray and the shininess of the handle has dulled from use. Nim turns to me, her silver gaze reflecting my image in her pupils. I look just like her down to every last detail, except for my age. She is old-not ancient, but wise-and the beginnings of wrinkles are etched into her cheeks.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? There's no shame in waiting, if that's what you choose to do. Or you could change paths. Be a Seer or an Archiver instead of a Watcher."

My eyes bore into hers, and I set my shoulders square. "I'm sure."

She pauses for a moment, nods, and uses one hand to open the door.

The room on the other side is wide and quiet. The far wall is lined with millions of drawers, from the ceiling all the way down to the floor. Torches adorn nooks in the marble, casting a flickering glow across a crowd of House members. Like Nim, they're all almost mirror images of me: sparkling silver eyes, platinum hair, white-as-ghost skin.

I gulp back my hesitance and step before my audience. Nim stays by my side, taking my nimble hand into hers. An eruption of whispers fills the air, but then a man steps forward from the center of the mob and the rest of the members fall silent.

"Amara, member of The House, you've come here today to proclaim your path. What do you choose?" he asks.

My mouth is cotton dry, and I struggle to swallow before I speak. "I, Amara, member of The House, choose the life of Watcher."

Another stream of whispers come, this time more fervent than the last, and I switch my weight uneasily from foot to foot before the man speaks again.

"And why do you choose the path of Watcher?"

I exchange a brief look with Nim, who squeezes my hand in encouragement. The only sound in the room other than the flickering torch flames is the fabric of my white sheath dress rubbing against hers as we stand next to each other.

"I-I choose to be Watcher because it's what I'm meant to be," I stammer. "I've always wanted to care for a universe, as far as I can remember."

One of the torches dies, its tip dwindling down to nothing more than orange embers, and a shadow waxes across the man's face.

"And what of the responsibility? Do you understand the commitment that's entailed?" he asks.

"She is aware," Nim says.

"Let the girl speak for herself."

I shrink away from the iciness of his tone, but reply nonetheless. "I understand I must live and die by the fate of my universe. I have to care for it. That's what Watchers do."

The man frowns, dipping his hand into the pocket of his white linen pants and extracting a chain as silver as my eyes. From it dangles a tarnished key, its grooves chipped but defined. He holds the necklace in front of him with flourish, brandishing a length of chain in each hand as he responds.

"Very well. Amara, member of The House, your chosen path as Watcher commences starting now. Come forth and retrieve your entry into your calling."

I stand there, stunned, and it isn't until Nim nudges her shoulder into my back that I break into an uneasy walk. Coming to stand before the man, I kneel down until he is able to drop the chain around my neck. The weight of the key rests between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the metal cold and dry against my skin through the thin fabric I wear.

"Rise, Amara, as Watcher, a valued member of The House," he says. I do as I'm told, rising to full height. The man glares at me, and in a voice soft enough that Nim can't hear, adds, "Let's hope we don't regret this decision."

He steps aside and walks to the door, exiting into the marble hallway beyond. The rest of the crowd follows, each member nodding respectfully in my direction as they pa.s.s. I try to nod back but my neck is stiff from anxiety. I think of what has just happened-how the ritual has sealed my fate-and until Nim walks up beside me and sets a hand on my arm I don't realize the room has emptied out and we are the only souls left inside.

"Don't be frightened by Dante," Nim whispers. "He's not half as intimidating as he sounds."

"I'm not scared of him," I lie.

Nim sees right through me, the edges of her pale mouth curling up in a half-smile. "You've been a.s.signed," she says, changing the subject. "I received word of it this morning."

A bold eagerness replaces the trepidation boiling in my gut. "To what? Which universe will I be Watcher of?"

Nim dangles her hand under the key suspended around my neck, allowing the metal shaft to rest in her palm. With two fingers, she turns the key over so that the top is upright for me to read. The number one is carved into the surface.

"The first?" I gasp, barely comprehending. "That has to be special, right? Being gifted with the first universe?"

Nim's smile widens, and she inclines her head. "Of course. As your mentor, I wouldn't deceive you."

She takes my hand and leads me over to the wall of drawers. Most are clean and polished, their marble faces gleaming in the firelight. The one she points out to me, however, is covered in a fine layer of dust, its edges chipped and rounded from use. I bite back a frown and slip my key into the lock. The drawer opens with a click, sliding forth automatically to greet me.

At first, I'm disappointed by what I see inside. The gla.s.s...o...b..that rests on a swath of red cloth is covered in more dust than the drawer itself. I'm unable to see into its depths until Nim reaches over me and takes the crystal ball into her hand. Her fingers rub away years of grime and reveal a view into the universe held within.

Inside the orb is an endless expanse of a black and star-filled night. Planets rotate between galaxies and solar systems. With each layer of dust Nim brushes away, I see a new side of the world I've been entrusted to care for. My heart thumps hard against my chest as she uses one hand to turn my palm face-up and the other to set the crystal ball upon my fingers.

"It's beautiful," I say, my voice filled with awe.

"They're all beautiful," Nim replies. She puts her palm under mine and forces my fingers closed around the orb. "This one is yours until the very end of your life. Do you understand?"

I nod. "Yes, Nim. I understand." I say the words, but I don't mean them, not really. I don't yet comprehend what the end of a Watcher's life is like, or why it has to happen. Nim is my mentor, and she hasn't divulged this information yet.

"I'll give you some time to look a little longer. Once you're done, meet me in the Watch Room."

Nim releases my hand and walks soundlessly across the marble expanse, exiting the chamber. The door creaks shut behind her and I am left alone-a girl with her universe, the one thing The House has entrusted me to care for. I will not let them down, I think, spinning the orb around in my palm. The firelight casts the swimming stars and planets across my face as I appraise them through the gla.s.s. For every galaxy I think I see, I find two more when I spin the ball back to its original position, and in that moment I realize what this...o...b..really holds: infinity.

When I'm done staring, I walk over to the door. My hand is on the k.n.o.b and the threshold is half-exposed when a pair of voices echoes in the hall beyond.

"I can't believe they actually went through with it. They trusted her enough to let her be a Watcher," the first voice-high-pitched and haughty-says.

I duck back into the room, pulling the door closed until only a crack of light filters in as I eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

"I've been told they gave her number one. The first universe, that is," the second replies.

"That explains a lot." A shadow shifts across the crack, and I make out the frame of a tall, lanky girl who rolls her silver eyes for emphasis. "The first universe has the least amount of life inside. Not much to watch there at all."

My heart sinks in my chest when she says it, and my fingers go numb. Before I can stop myself, the gla.s.s...o...b..slips from my hand and clunks against the floor, rolling out the door. I chase after it, banging the frame open painfully with my left shoulder and scrambling frantically across the ground on my hands and knees. I catch the ball just as it rolls into the tip of someone's foot, and as I upright myself-universe in hand-I lock gazes with two House members.

They are both young, like me-no more than seventeen-and amused smiles alight their faces. They fold their arms at the same time, leaning into each other's sides as they greet me.

"h.e.l.lo, Amara," they say together.

My ghostly white cheeks flush as I nod in reply. I'm afraid to speak after overhearing their conversation, worried any word I utter might spur on my tears, so instead I just turn and walk away toward the Watch Room. After two right turns and several doors down I find it. When I enter the hollow s.p.a.ce, Nim sits at its center next to a carved metal structure holding up a transparent bowl.

"Come, join me," she says, patting the floor next to her. I obey, rushing over and dropping cross-legged to the ground. The s.p.a.ce is even more dimly lit than the first chamber, and my eyes burn in the struggle to define shapes in the poor illumination.

Nim's eyes are closed, her face tilted back to the ceiling as she begins to lecture. "The House has been around since the beginning of time. Its members are tasked with caring for all the universes contained in the void. We must keep them safe."

"You tell me this every day," I say, my tone full of impatience. "You also tell me that, as a Watcher, it's my duty to watch over my chosen universe and make sure it doesn't die out before its time. But what you haven't told me-or rather, shown me-is how to do the actual watching."

Nim cracks open an eye and stares down at me with a cross between reproach and sympathy. After a long pause, she answers. "Oh, alright, then. We can get on with the fun part, I suppose."

I shoot her a beaming smile and hold the gla.s.s...o...b..containing my universe out for her to see. She points to the bowl in front of us. "Set it inside to trigger the process."

I stretch my arm out wide and almost release the ball from my fingers when the memory of the girls' conversation stops me. "Nim?" I ask. "Is it true this universe doesn't have any life? Is that why The House a.s.signed me to it-because they don't want me to screw it up, like everything else I do?"

Nim eyes me carefully, searching for the right words before providing a response. "You are clumsier than the others; this is true. But the first universe does contain life, and being the beginning of all things living, I imagine it's more important than any other life in all the other universes combined."

I force a smile in an effort to show her the statement is comforting, and then release the ball into the bowl. The orb lands in midair, hovering above the basin, and the universe within projects onto the walls surrounding us. Millions of stars and planets whir around me, a light show made only for me.

"How do I enter?" I ask.

"Focus on the images, and then reach with your mind," Nim replies. "But remember this: when you want to return, think only of The House. Of its halls and walls and rooms. And Amara?"

"Yes, Nim?"

"Good luck."

I smile for real this time, stare deeply into the orb, and reach.

Chapter Two.

I am a swarming gray cloud of smoke with no end and no beginning. My hands change first, turning to vapor before my eyes. I fight against my molecules as I panic over the transformation. Once altered my body is sucked into the orb, and I'm no longer in The House, but flying, sliding, careening through a vast blackness spattered with sparkling stars and galaxies that paint the universe with muted colors of purple and orange and gold.

At first I spiral out of control, lost in the metamorphosis and terrified I will never change back, but after a time the sensation of being ripped apart ebbs and I float seamlessly through the beautiful beyond. I pa.s.s by planets made of swirling waters and jagged rock, methane-infused air and raging storms. Finally I gather the will to focus and I plummet down, down, onto a hot and barren landscape made of salted earth and stone cliffs that jut out at perilous angles.

The air is thin here and smells of gas, but I can still breathe. All members of The House can, no matter where they are. It's a trait we covet so that we can travel across worlds.

"h.e.l.lo?" I call out into the emptiness. No one answers. Above me, two red stars loom in the distance, casting a boiling heat across the land. I find it hard to believe any life form can survive here, but still I seek them out. I search under rocks and in caves, admiring the crevices and whistling winds surrounding me.

This place is nothing like The House, where I'm stuck inside with no escape. I have never been to a place with open air and a ground and a sky, and I find it fascinating until the truth sets in: I am alone, completely and unequivocally, and the idea stomps out my courage and sends me back into a whirling wisp of smoke.

I fly up and out of the atmosphere, shooting back among the stars and out of the galaxy. I swim through the blackness, my disembodied stomach filled with a nervous excitement that turns me queasy. Then I see another smatter of spiraling color among the night. It is beautiful-a sea of muted colors that swirl before me-and I dive into it headfirst. I span the distance of light years in seconds, closing in on time and s.p.a.ce and finding a place to land on a red planet covered in desert sands and a haunting cold.

I wrap my hands across my arms and bend into the wind as sand whips at my skin and hair. Rocks dig into the soles of my sandals, jutting into the soft flesh of my feet. For the first time I feel pain, and it is both horrible and beautiful all at once.

Craters and long-dormant volcanoes spatter the landscape. I walk for hours, across rocks and over dunes, fighting against the air current and dipping my hand to the earth to let particles from the ground sift through my delicate fingers.

"Is anyone there?" I shout.

No one and nothing replies. I am alone again, and devastated because of it. Part of me is angry with Nim for not giving me more guidance, and also for not gracing me with a universe that contains more life. Existing as a lone ent.i.ty, even in a world full of splendor, still strikes me with melancholy. If only my mentor had told me where to go, what to do. Instead she sent me off in no direction whatsoever, and now I am lost.

I bite my lip and struggle to think of home, panicking when my body remains solid and I don't find myself in the marble halls of The House. I try to think of only Nim and the chamber with the drawers and the wooden doors with splintered frames, but the back of my mind screams about the wonder around me, and I cannot silence it.

I sigh, look up through the sand, and see stars. A speck of light stands out from the rest. It is a pale blue color, shimmering far out in the distance and beckoning me closer. Before I can even command it I am smoke again, swirling toward the beacon of hope, through stars and around meteors and into the darkness.

When I break through the planet's atmosphere I find myself in a wide world of light and color. Below me is a stretch of water so vast and large I wonder where it ends. As I circle overhead I see a landma.s.s, large and looming, and I dive toward it. As I near the ground the sights become larger: structures erected along roads, pruned trees and foliage, and-the best part-wildlife streaming around. Animals of all shapes and sizes, people who look like me only slightly different: tinted hair and colored eyes, wearing more than just a white sheath and sandals like me.

It's all too much as I go swirling by and for a moment I lose myself. The wind catches me up and draws me away until I regain my composure and coalesce on a sandy beach. A lake stretches out at the edge of the land, clear and deep, and boats travel across the water. I recognize the landmarks from the ancient texts in the archives of The House, but they're so much bigger than the pictures contained within the pages of books.

I look around and find the stretch of sand empty but for a boy sitting near the surf, his knees drawn into his chest as he jots down words in a pocket-sized notebook.

I blink back surprise. The first day inside my a.s.signed universe, and I've found life. I can't wait to tell Nim, to see the smile on her face when I explain to her the wondrous new world I've uncovered. Part of me wants to return to The House now just to tell her, but the curious side of me wishes to stay.

I shuffle through the sand, the warm earth mingling in between my toes as I walk. When I reach the boy he snaps his neck up to look at me in surprise.

He has a handsome face, hidden behind thick, black-rimmed spectacles. His brown hair falls onto his forehead in a mess of brown curls. A square jaw accentuates his thin lips and tan skin. Compared to my paleness, he looks as if he's on fire.

"Where'd you come from?" he asks.

"The House," I say.

He scrunches up his nose and adjusts his gla.s.ses, waiting for me to say more, but when I don't, he replies. "Where's that at? Do you live off the beach? I'm sorry if you do. I didn't mean to trespa.s.s. This is just a good place for writing, is all."

I lean my head to the side and hold my hand out for his notebook. He draws it away from me, sliding it into the pocket of his pants. His clothes are colorful-reds and blues and navies-and my eyes hurt from staring at them.

"Is writing what you do?" I ask.