3. The Sudden Sand

The back of Bella’s fur was lit up by powerful distant flames. She’d been looking for Ardex to tell him they did not find him useless and they did need his fire and energy. Eeris rebuild her Withered Willows all alone, for everyone else was either gone or stuck in a fiery debate about exactly how to rebuild it.

They’d all completely lost the energy to investigate the wall. Or do anything remotely hard. Failing to progress for a million years does that to a god.

At least the flames told her Ardex’ location, although he should really stop—

A scratching sound. Shuffling sand behind her. She looked back and saw nothing strange, but the noise continued, louder this time.

Then she spotted a hole in the sand. The path she’d just walked—a perfectly fine, sturdy piece of dirt—had suddenly become a deep hole with ragged edges.

Another hole appeared, closer to her.

Another hole, as if an invisible giant ran towards her, the dirt unable to support his massive feet.

Bella could only yelp and take one more step. Then the next hole appeared, wide enough to swallow the entire Throne of Tomorrow if it wanted, and sucked her in.

“Help!”

Her screams were stifled by piles of dirt falling on her head. As she fell, the shrinking hole showed a blue sky with faintly red clouds, lit by Ardex’ angry flames.

Then she saw only darkness.

The hole still wasn’t satisfied with its size. It grew deeper, and larger, and shifted around as if it were a living being. She tried a few more cries for help, but could barely hear herself, especially with clumps of dirt in her throat.

Until the hole spit her out.

She rolled to her feet, agile and on full alert. She used her tail as a shield.

No attack came. The area was as silent as Somnia had been for a million years. Uninhabited, unlived, unremarkable.

No, it was even more silent. She couldn’t even hear the others speak or the crackling of Ardex’ flamebreath.

They had assumed that other things, like their bacteria, were able to cross the wall just fine. That it only stopped them, the godchildren. But now she saw the truth.

She had appeared on the other side of the wall—and it held not a single living thing.

Her knees buckled. Her tail drooped. The fear of being unconnected to life crept through her. It made her instantly exhausted and hopeless, as if she only now realized she had not slept for months. She searched, within herself and outside herself, but found no thread of the spider web of life. The wall kept that out too.

As far as her body was concerned, she was in a dead universe. And so it died too.

“Help! Help me!” she screamed.

She entered the hole, but it had shifted again. It stopped after only a few steps. She had to leave once the roof collapsed and almost covered her in thick layers of mud.

Why was it always her? Why was it always the one goddess without strong magic?

No. Don’t think like that.

Her magic was being smart, and clever, and knowing everything about everything. She just had to find the wall again. She just had to find the patterns in the holes, then take one that brought her back.

If only her legs would keep working for that long.

As before, her body started disintegrating. Just a few magical shreds came off of her tail and floated to nowhere. Like smoke from a fire; like its dead ashes too. That’s how much the gods needed life force around them to stay alive.

Lacking any life or objects, it was easy to look far ahead. The shifting sands had stopped for a bit, but now they continued. Why? How could she predict it?

She ran to the nearest hole, but it had closed itself again when she reached it. She was closer to Ardex, though, who still ran around breathing fire.

Without warning, another bite was taken out of her surroundings. The white stones that shimmered in sunlight were suddenly dark gray or cut in half. The smooth pebbles, softened by years floating in the river, or scrubbed by sand, had become spiky and angular.

Then it stopped again. The sands shifted to make up for the gaps, the wind blew things back into their proper place—or at least, that’s what Bella hoped—and the area settled.

The next time the holes appeared, the answer was abundantly clear.

The hole appeared precisely when Ardex made his next flame.

Bella couldn’t believe it. As her tail disintegrated and her vision started to swim, she had to chuckle at the thought. Ardex even destroyed things unknowingly, from a distance, by accident.

Her disbelief had to be dislodged by cold hard facts. The next flame created another hole, and so did the next. They matched perfectly. It was impossible to deny the connection.

Whenever Ardex created fire, he destroyed another part of Somnia.

Ardex came closer. He seemed to be carrying something. His firebreath hadn’t been in anger or directed at the wall; no, he had panicked eyes and a wild uneven step.

“Ardex! Here!” Bella tried again.

He couldn’t hear. Fortunately, he was close enough now to see.

His panic multiplied. He dashed straight into the invisible wall, as if pure willpower could shatter it. It did not even bend.

Once Ardex had pulled himself out of the dirt again, he asked Bella many questions, but she could hear none of them. The wall dampened every sound. It made the world feel dull, your ears sick and your eyes tired.

Not just dull. Without a connection to the spider web of life, Bella was nothing.

“Keep breathing fire! Do big ones! QUICK!”

She made wild gestures with her fading paws, hoping he’d understand. But she barely understood herself. How could Ardex do this? How could this bypass the wall? How did she communicate that?

Instead, doubt and indecision passed over his face, and then Ardex waved goodbye and left her to wither alone. So much for being a family and sticking together.