Black Moon Draw(97)

There’s nothing. Breathing hard, I stand in the middle of my apartment, mind racing.

Ding. I look back at my computer and see the chat window blinking once more. I trip over the magazine rack I dumped in the middle of the floor and eagerly seize the mouse to click the chat window open.





An author creates a world. The reader brings it to life. If you want Black Moon Draw to exist, it will. You are the heart of this story. It’s totally up to you! LF’s message reads.





I’m right. I am the Heart, the reason Black Moon Draw exists, the key to it surviving. A second message pops up.





Oh, as for how to get back . . . try the front door. It usually works LOL



“Dammit, Naia!” The one door I didn’t open, assuming it’d lead straight into the hallway. I don’t bother to respond but go to the front door and stare at it.

My body hums with anxious energy. “This is my story,” I whisper. To break the curse, to save him, I must open the door and go home. If I don’t believe enough to do it, Black Moon Draw ceases to exist.

I have a choice between two worlds, one that makes me feel alive and one where I’m a mushroom.

There was a time where I would’ve given anything to return to my apartment and boring life. Standing on the ledge, getting ready to jump into the unknown, uncertain if he’ll be there to catch me, if anything will be left of Black Moon Draw . . .

“I don’t care,” I whisper. “I’m not a mushroom anymore. I’m not a coward either, Atreyu. This is what I want. I want the curse broken, the fog gone and for you to see . . . the blue sky.” I stop, struggling not to cry. “My heart belongs in Black Moon Draw.”

A meow reminds me that I can’t just leave my cats. Blinking away tears, I retreat from the doorway and gather up my cats in their carriers. Tuna immediately starts to yowl.

“Hush! We’re going someplace better!” I tell him. Locking the cage, I return to my computer and pull up my email. There’s no way I can explain this all to my mother, so I tell her not to worry, that I love her, and I’ve finally figured out what I want with my life. “Hopefully I can come say hi again someday.” Saddened at leaving her, I’m nonetheless convinced more each moment that this is what I am meant to do.

Clicking send, I stand and go to the door, gathering the three carriers.

Resting my hand on the doorknob, I hesitate one more time. “Black Moon Draw exists. It always has. It always will.” Please let it be there. If I open the door and see my hallway, I’ll never recover.

With a deep breath, I open the door to my destiny.

It’s not the corridor of my apartment building outside the door but the smooth stone walls and floor of the castle at Black Moon Draw.

I take one step and then another into the shallow hall. The one adjoining it is bright, lit by torches and natural light. No trace of the destruction is present, and the fortress no longer shakes.

Cautiously, I pull the door closed behind me, releasing my breath. The castle is standing. It’s a good first sign. I tread down the hall to the major corridor. Dazzling sunlight pours through windows while the brilliant blue sky above shows no trace of fog. The mountains still stand and I glimpse hills of mythical green beyond the stone walls.

Hope balloons, its warmth flooding me. My thoughts turn to the Shadow Knight, who I left dead in the banquet hall. I spin and look expectantly at the torches. “Take me to him,” I whisper. One of them flickers as if to signal me, and I balance the cat carriers so I can move as fast as I can.

This time, the path is much shorter, the hallways no longer reorganizing in a maze at each turn. Down stairs, through two floors, and down more stairs. Anticipation sets my body on fire. Emotions are percolating, contained only by the sheer terror that I might’ve saved the kingdom but not the man. I float through the castle, too frenzied to know for certain to experience exertion.

The torches lead me to the foyer, and I pause, confused. It’s empty. My eyes sweep over the tapestries that still hang by threads after a thousand years and the wooden furnishings that have rotted in place. The dust is gone, along with the cobwebs, though the wear of time remains. The neglected fortress will need extensive repair – but it’s in one piece.

“It’s a start,” I whisper, frowning. “Yo, magic torches, you were supposed to take me to him.”

None of them flicker abnormally.

“Witch.”

I turn at the hesitant voice of my squire.

“You’re alive!” I exclaim. Depositing the cats, I race to him and throw my arms around him, grateful the kid is okay.

“Ahhhh,” he says, wriggling free, a look of embarrassment and bafflement on his features.

Note to self: don’t hug your squire.

“What happened?” I demand. “Do you remember?”

“Aye. I was falling and then I stopped in the air.” His eyes bug as he speaks. “I could not move for half a candlemark. And then, suddenly, I could. I landed there.” He points to the corner of the foyer. “The fog disappeared and the sun came out.”

I’m analyzing his words, torn between hope the Shadow Knight survived and despair I’m too late. “Was anyone with you?” I venture fearfully.

“Aye. The son of the Desert Knight.”