Black Moon Draw(96)

It’s the last line of the story so far. Slamming my hands on the desk, I curse loudly enough to make Tuna back away and then click the chat window open again to see if LF is online. She’s not, but I send her a message anyway. If she didn’t think I was crazy last night, she will this morning.





How do I get back? Was any of it real?





Clicking send, I stand, restless and scared, my thoughts racing almost as fast as my heartbeat.

“What if it is just a book?” I shake my head and look around my apartment. “This is real life. How awful!” Am I going crazy? Was I crazy to believe I went to another world? The oppressiveness of my existence settles over me, a reminder of how much I’ve come to hate my life.

How can I possibly rescue a man when I’ve lost my magic?

“It’s not real, Naia,” I grate. “None of it is! You don’t have any magic!”

There’s a part of me that argues it’s stupid for me to be so emotionally invested in fiction.

The part of me that lived it, and knows Black Moon Draw is more real to me than this life ever has been, roars in response. I’ve been there! I know it exists. I know he exists! A man who leaves me as confused as he does turned on, whose touch makes me quiver and who I crave more than all the chocolate in the world. I can’t think more than two seconds about him without epic euphoria and primal lust.

I’m also wearing the clothes I wore in Black Moon Draw, the only physical proof, aside from the scent of our lovemaking on my skin.

I go to a window, recognizing the cityscape visible for miles. I can’t stand the warring feelings tearing me apart, the instinct urging me to find a way back to him and the satisfaction of having hot water again. Unable to reconcile what the hell is going on, I finally flip out, the pent up anger, frustration, and fear getting the better of me.

Tearing off the clothing of a world that doesn’t exist, I fling it across the living room with a shriek of pure anguish.

Just when I start falling in love with my favorite kind of Hero – nobly flawed and redeemable, a man who thought I was beautiful, who helped me believe in myself for once instead of criticizing me, whose courage may have saved an entire world – the world ends. I can’t go back to being normal, to grocery store runs, the library, and hiding away in my apartment while waiting for another Jason to enter my life and string me along.

The tears start and I drop onto the couch, sobbing. Traumatized when I woke up in a different world, I’m equally horrified to realize I’d rather be someone special in a place that doesn’t exist than no one in reality.

I cry until I’m exhausted then blearily go to my bedroom and pull on a pair of my favorite yoga pants and a t-shirt. I replace my Black Moon Draw boots and decide they look pretty chic with the yoga pants tucked in.

Rubbing my face, I try to figure out what to do. I can’t let Black Moon Draw go. I can’t let him go. Unable to meekly accept my place in this world the way I would have a week before, I return to the one thing that might help me. A different kind of sorrow is settling into my chest, one that aches too much for tears. I’m hollowed out, empty, useless.

“He wouldn’t give up. I can’t either.” But god, do I feel like it!

Sitting in front of my computer, I begin to read the unfinished tale of Black Moon Draw, reliving every emotion and adventure from the beginning. I sob when I read the parts between the Shadow Knight and me, able to see in fiction what I couldn’t living it – that we’ve been meant to be together since the beginning. I smile at my interactions with my squire and wistfully decide, should we meet again, I’ll sit down to learn more about him. He’s smart and brave, if ill prepared to be a warrior.

As I read, I search for clues I might’ve missed, hints at what I’m supposed to do next or how I can return. Sitting up straight, I reread the passages from my dream of the warrior queen.





“Why is it called a Heart?” I ask.

She swipes at her tears and lowers the medallion, stepping away. “’Twas the nickname my husband gave me. I was his heart, his love, his queen. This was fashioned as a wedding present. Magic molded this gem, but our love gave it power.”





The words reverberate around my skull. The Red Knight had been ordered by Brown Sun Lake to capture the Heart.

The Shadow Knight of a thousand years ago had given the magic of the world to his Heart.

My hand goes to where the medallion hung at my chest. Magic still worked for me, albeit even less reliably, after the medallion was destroyed. How was that possible?

I was his heart, his love, his queen.. The warrior queen had said.

“The Heart of Black Moon Draw,” I whisper aloud. “It’s not a medallion. It’s a person.”

It’s me, the only person who can break the curse, who can make a nonexistent world exist, because I believe enough for it to be. The clues to the true power I possess have been in front of me all along.

But am I too late?

Standing, I return to where I entered my apartment from Black Moon Draw and begin looking for the door to return. It has to be here; I stepped into that world from my apartment and returned here. I push open the door to the bathroom. It’s definitely my bathroom, down to the litter box beside the sink.

I’m not sure if hope or pure terror is building inside me, but it ignites my adrenaline once again and dashes my sorrow. I ransack my place, opening every cabinet, closet, crawlspace and kitty hiding spot, down to the ottoman that acts as storage, seeking some way back to where I belong.