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First World(38)

By:Jaymin Eve


“If it’s non-degrading, isn’t that bad for the environment?” I questioned, wide-eyed.

This world was more enlightened than Earth. Of course, monkeys were more enlightened than most Earthlings.

“Where does it go when you’re finished with it?”

“On the rare occasions you need to dispose of your Alestrite, there is a method which dissolves the bonds. It forms harmless crystals, which are used in the powering of many smaller objects.”

I stared at him in wide-eyed shock for a moment.

Finally – a culture that understood destroying the organism that kept you alive was a dumb-ass move. Shaking it off, I continued to follow Brace as he moved along and then abruptly turned into a small side street, a shortcut to one of the largest residences I’d ever seen. It was in its own little alcove and the ocean almost crested on its doorstep.

Staring up at the beautiful building, I sighed. It was a deep rich blue, a color I’d always been drawn to on Lucy’s color chart. Cerulean blue.

Two large pillars ran up the front entrance, elaborately carved with unusual symbols. The walls were Alestrite but the pillars looked like a porous deep burgundy stone.

I turned back to see if Lucy had caught up. She’d be loving the colorful buildings. Empty space surrounded me. Spinning jerkily, I looked left and right.

A horrified cry escaped my mouth. My hands flapped helplessly at my side. Brace was next to me in an instant.

“Red?” he questioned me, before he noticed. “Where’s Lucy?” His tone was low and gruff.

Where was Lucy? Had she followed us down the alley, or was she still back at the house she’d been examining?

The world was going gray around the edges. Pulling myself together, I refused to faint. We had moments before the trail grew cold. I hadn’t forgotten the story of Brace’s friend. Wrenching myself out of his arms, I ran back through the side street. We had to have lost her in the moments between this street and the house.

“Lucy ... LUCY ... LUCY!” My throat ached, protesting the screaming.

A few of the shuttered house windows showed signs of movement.

Someone grabbed me from behind, halting my frantic progression through the town. Yanking free, I spun around, eyes firing, so ready to kick some ass.

It was Brace.

“Abbs, stop. Our only chance is to get help from the Frayres.” His face was all kinds of serious as he gripped my arms. “Trust me, Red.”

I was trembling so violently my cells felt like they would crumble apart.

Silent tears ran down my face. I needed to move but nothing responded. Reaching down, Brace lifted me into his arms. Turning, he ran toward the house. I dried my eyes on the soft material of his shirt, but tears just kept falling.

He dashed up to the front steps of the house. Pulling my face away, I stared at a group of men gathered there.

A search party.

I felt small relief, despite the fact it was impossible for them to have gathered so quickly.

Brace barked out a few instructions and everyone dispersed.

I strongly believed Lucy wasn’t dead – yet – but being kidnapped ... I didn’t even know how bad this was.

Brace’s strong arms tightened around me as he carried me through the front door. Stepping through the entranceway and into a sitting room, he placed me on a white couch.

As he crouched before me, his expression was serious. “Don’t give up hope, Abby.”

He hesitated, but shook his head suddenly. Standing, he looked down at me.

“And please don’t run off on a vigilante mission to get her back. They’ve already locked the town down. No one enters or leaves.”

He left.

Closing my eyes, I sank into the soft padding and drifted in my sea of worry, pain and anger.



Eventually, my independence kicked in and I started formulating a plan. I needed to gather information and find some supplies. Then I’d tear this world apart looking for Lucy. I was ready to destroy anyone who stood in my way.

Whoever had taken Lucy must have entered through the gates. Surely it kept a record of visitors?

A loud gasp drew my attention – I opened my eyes. A woman was paused in the entrance to the room, a slender hand pressed to her throat, disbelief on her face. It was Lallielle. My mother, the person I had dreamed of and yearned to meet. And I felt nothing.

Her wide green eyes, lighter than mine, were shocked. She ran her other hand nervously through her thick shiny hair. As black as a raven, it hung almost to her waist.

Her face was unlined; she looked far too young to be my mother. As I examined her closely, I began to understand how wealthy these people were. It wasn’t just the amazing house. Lallielle also had that sheen of old-money confidence. She was dressed in a deep-purple calf-length dress, which was draped loosely on her frame. The cut was exquisite; Lucy would be in ecstatic revelling.