9. The Wrong Shot

The problem with boundaries, dear reader, is they can be pushed. What once seemed impossible, too dangerous or cruel, grows easier after you’ve done it once. Until you forget why you ever hesitated, though hesitation can be wise.

As such, none of the humans had any qualms about shooting Jacintah the Placefolder before she finished talking. They had forgotten what folding meant.

Jacintah vanished before the bullets reached her. She popped up beside a soldier, stole his rifle, and disappeared again. The humans spun around, anxiously searching for the teleporting panda.

Jacintah kept unexpectedly appearing at their side to steal their things, leaving human arms to grab air.

Hera smiled. The new animals had also relocated, from the Stone of Platsu over to the full animal army. Jacintah climbed atop the Lonely Tree, now the only wall separating the two armies.

“There, now we can really talk.”

“Stay out of this,” said Casjara. “You’re apparently a goddess, you can teleport—congratulations. You know what beings do to gods who meddle too much.”

Jacintah’s smile faded. “I certainly do. And I’d stay out of it, if you hadn’t—without permission—landed on my planet.”

“Your planet? Stupid animals can’t claim planets. Are you trying to give me more reasons to attack you?”

“I’ve existed since the dawn of this universe, little girl. On Somnia, mammoths died out ages ago, but I brought them here to prevent their extinction. Each era you humans found new reasons for war. I tried saving creatures by giving them a new home here. Yes, this planet is ours, and humans don’t belong.”

Casjara pulled a small dagger from her boot and pointed it toward Mindy. “What about her then?”

Jacintah fell silent. She gracefully sprang from the tree and walked right up to Casjara, no hint of fear in her body.

“You may know my sister, Ismaraldah. She can travel through time. Don’t ask why, but she insists Mindy is meant to be on this planet, otherwise the timeline is mssed up.”

With one swift claw she even slapped the dagger from Casjara’s strong hands.

“In all those fifty years,” Jacintah said, “Mindy hasn’t killed a single beast. So I’d say my sister was right. You could almost doubt whether Mindy is even human.”

Jacintah climbed back into the tree, a rocket with a few branches left. She looked at Simmo’s group beneath her gathering fuel, but said nothing of it.

“Humans are banned from this planet. Spread the message to all colonies. Land here again and you’ll be killed on sight, in cruel ways that only a teleporting goddess can devise. Leave now.”

Casjara was right about that I read too many books, thought Hera. But so much I’ve read is proving true. So there really must be infinitely many other planets on which we could live.

If only Casjara could see they didn’t have to do this. Then they could find a beautiful future together. She looked at Casjara, at the face she had always found so lovely, and tried one last time.

She took a step forward. “Casjara, my dear. You’re getting a second chance now.”

Casjara shook her head. Tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t think so, Hera. I don’t think so.”

She turned back to her army. “We have to take this planet now! Or its threat to humankind will only grow! If we succeed here, I’m guaranteed an important role in my interplanetary army.”

Her interplanetary army? Hera thought.

Jacintah scoffed. “You’re a military mastermind, Casjara. Or you should be. You know we’re at an impasse.”

“You know me?”

“I take an interest in little girls who hunt animals for fun. A negative interest.”

Jacintah teleported to the animal army. “We vastly outnumber you. And we hold half your colony captive. Even if you win, you’ll only have three or four people left.”

She teleported to Mindy. “Mindy is a famous name. Hurt her and everyone will mobilize for revenge.”

Then she placed her black paws on Vaia. “These humans stand in your line of fire if you try anything. What’s more, it won’t be long before they leave, wanting nothing to do with you.”

Hera was amazed. How could such a cute little panda speak so commandingly and stride into a war so confidently? Must have stumbled into wars before.

She also heard anger and grief in her voice. The goddess had seen more than she wanted to see—and wanted no more fighting now.

So it all came down to one person: Casjara. Every eye turned her way.

Hera watched her shrink, shoulders slumping. She held out her arm, a final attempt. “Come now, darling, come back, give me a hug.”

Casjara looked at her, black rings under her eyes.

She took Hera’s hand.

And yanked her forcefully away from Mindy.

Casjara let down her long black hair and pulled a small pistol from the greasy locks. She backed up, the rocket shielding her back. Hera struggled but was stuck in Casjara’s grip, which now tightened around her throat too.

“Dump the fuel in!”

Vaia’s voice quivered. “In what?”

“The rocket! Now!” She briefly turned the gun on Vaia but quickly snapped back to Mindy.

Mindy raised her hands. “I’ve never done anything to you. This won’t accomplish anything.”

The fuel was thrown back into the rocket. Simmo wanted to slap himself. His group, under his leadership, had uncovered and freed this rocket.

All that effort to escape … only to help Casjara escape.

Yet that still might be the only peaceful resolution. “If the right person flees,” he said aloud, mostly to Casjara, “that could be the best solution.”

Her face only twisted in anger. She kicked backward until the rocket opened. The happy picture on its side—of Mindy’s face, the whistling hare, and koala—clashed harshly with the person trying to enter it.

Jacintah exploded in red light and stood right beside her. But she couldn’t attack, or teleport away, while Casjara had Hera in a chokehold.

It’s okay, it’ll be okay, thought Hera, for a second, maybe two. But if this is what Casjara has become, I don’t want her to take me anymore.

That gave her enough strength to wrench free and slap her girlfriend hard across the face. Casjara staggered backward into the rocket.

Jacintah pounced, two of Casjara’s soldiers grabbed her by the tail. They leapt into the rocket too and slammed at buttons until it seemed to come alive.

“We’re just letting er go?” said the angry giant panda beside Simmo, who he now noticed resembled Jacintah. He sprinted at the rocket.

Hera tried to get clear.

Casjara aimed her pistol, but her arms shook, her poisoned arm offered no support, and she lost her balance.

A gunshot sounded.

The planet fell silent. Everyone looked around, felt their own bodies, ducked behind each other or stone formations.

Only one body sank to the ground. Mindy’s white lab coat turned red.

Jacintah stood right beside her. So did the panda, Hera, and Simmo. Every remaining human and animal raced to help.

They forgot Casjara and her most loyal soldiers. Hera briefly glimpsed her chalk-white trembling face—the eyes of what had once been her lover—before the rocket door sealed shut.

Hera cursed Casjara’s skill. She ignited the engines, rolled the rocket onto its side, then skimmed the rocky planet surface for a while trying to take off. Until the tip pointed up and she wrestled the battered ship into the sky, bucking and shaking.

Over the loud hissing of the ascending spaceship, flames at her back, she examined Mindy’s wound. One bullet. Straight through the heart. If the pens hadn’t tumbled from her pocket, they might have saved her.

That’s no accident, Hera thought, anger bubbling in her gut. She shot Mindy. She purposely murdered my HERO! Why?

She was beyond saving. Her eyes closed.

“Tell Trevran what happened here. Forget me, but don’t forget what I stood for. Make something beautiful of this planet.”

She was carried by both animal backs and human hands. They carried her the whole long, long journey back to her cozy cottage on the other side of the two nests.

There, they buried her in the peaceful garden she had planted herself.

“We’ll make something beautiful of this planet,” Simmo said softly.

“We won’t forget,” Hera stated, sharp and loud.

Jacintah vanished and returned almost instantly with a bouquet of gorgeous flowers. Not from here—they smelt and felt like home.

“Somnia is healing,” Jacintah said through tears. “In part thanks to you.”

She handed out the flowers so each person and animal could lay one down. A ritual all creatures seemed to grasp as well as the humans.

“I only wish you could have seen it.”