Ruby stayed up until one in the morning the first night Henry didn’t come back. She only went to bed then because her mother ordered her to. It was the first time she’d ever been up past midnight. In the past she’d often wondered if there would be some feeling, some magic in the air. It was the witching hour, or one of them, anyway. But there wasn’t.

Every day after that, Ruby stayed up with her mother, waiting in the study below the observatory as the grandfather clock in the hall ticked and tocked, though she never managed to stay awake until midnight again, despite her attempts to keep herself occupied. She would try to draw or to read to keep her mind engaged, but in the end she would always wake up in her bed with the morning sun warming her face.

On the sixth night, she didn’t go into the study. She went to the observatory and paced around in the cold, the sound of cars on the freeway her only companion. She sat down in front of the mirror, watching her own reflection, willing Henry to appear in the glass. Her eyes watered, afraid to blink in case she missed him. Below her somewhere the clock ticked and tocked away. She blinked at last.

When her eyes opened she was in her bed, with the morning sun burning her face. She leapt to her feet, knees knocking together, and made it three steps before she collapsed against the door.

Her mother, Morgause, opened the door a second later. “Henry?” Ruby cried.

“It’s going to be alright,” said her mother, crouching down to Ruby’s level.

“Where is he?” she asked, voice quaking. “Is he down at breakfast? Is he in his room? Why didn’t you wake me when he got home?”

Her mother pulled her into her arms. “It’s going to be alright,” she repeated.

Ruby broke down and cried.

With Henry gone, the house was much quieter. It’s not as if he had been loud, but his voice was the loudest of everyone who lived here, and he had liked to sing or play music when there was nothing else going on. Now the only sound was the ticking of the clock, and the sound of mother’s voice during her lessons. Homeschooling went right on; mother said Ruby needed to stick to her routine, or else the grief would make her sick. She knew she couldn’t disagree, so she kept it all inside and cried into her pillow at night.

Ruby woke in terror early one morning when the seasons began to turn. She yelped and clutched at her chest, feeling an awful pressure inside, her heart racing so much she almost couldn’t feel the individual beats. She stumbled out of bed, banging her forehead against her bedside table. Letting out a sob, she groped for the lamp. A spasm seized her just as she pulled on the cord and the lamp fell to the ground. The light shone from the top of the lampshade like a beam, cutting a swath across her room, and for a moment she thought she saw that face again, the one from her dream, hiding in the shadows, and she screamed—not loud, she didn’t have enough breath in her body—and before the sound had even faded she was already forgetting, forgetting—

But the pain was still there, and Ruby knew it was because she’d been so frightened. The dream had almost killed her.

A moment later the door opened, and there stood mother. She helped Ruby back into bed and checked her for injuries, a routine she’d gone through many times before. Unprompted, Ruby said, “I had a nightmare.”

“It must have been quite shocking,” she replied, producing a vial of red cordial from somewhere within her nightgown.

“It was,” said Ruby, putting a hand to her heart. It was still racing like a hummingbird.

“You look like you’ve just run a marathon,” said her mother, pushing the vial to Ruby’s lips. She tilted her head back and let the liquid trickle down her throat.

“It was scary,” Ruby coughed, a little fleck of red almost hitting Morgause’s face before it was swatted aside by a tamed wind.

“You don’t remember it, do you?” asked her mother.

Ruby scrunched her eyes shut. “I think it was about Henry.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and they spilled out when she opened them again.

Morgause patted her head, face inscrutable. “The potion will help you sleep.” She straightened up and did away with the vial. “Sleep without dreams. Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight, mother,” said Ruby, blinking rapidly. The potion was already taking hold. She laid herself back down, fading out before her mother had even passed through the door.

The nightmares kept coming. At first, she would just wake in the morning with a sense of unease, tears in her eyes, heart racing. But as the days passed, flashes of memory lingered after waking. Henry dead on the floor. A boy she didn’t know, shaking her, telling her to wake up. And a terrible face, like the beaked mask of a medieval doctor, but made of flesh instead of leather.

Each time the shock of it would last longer, as would the pain in her chest. There was no consistency with the time or place where the dreams could strike; sometimes she woke in fright within minutes of falling asleep, sometimes she lasted all the way to sunrise, and once a fit took her when she drifted off for an afternoon nap. In no time at all, Ruby began to dread sleep.

Morgause was always there just in time to help, but she quickly grew concerned. She didn’t tell Ruby, but Ruby knew, from the way she looked at her potion vial, and then at the dozens of vials on the dresser.

Ruby was sickly, always had been. She had a list of chronic diseases as long as her arm, but worse than all of those was her spiritual ailment. Her soul devoured energy like a starving man. This kept her from using magic, but worse, it made her weak. It seemed like every other calorie she ate went into a black hole, and without a daily cocktail of magic and medicine, she would have died long ago. And this near-nightly need for extra treatment would upset the balance. Soon she would get worse.

> After a week straight of nightmares, Ruby woke without waking.

>

> She jolted upright, chest burning, and saw her room stretching out into a long tunnel. “Wha..?” she groped blindly for her medication, shifting her weight—but she misjudged her placement, rolling a medicine bottle under her hand. She lost balance, tipped forward and fell onto the bedside table, bowling it over with herself on top.

>

> Ruby’s forehead smashed into the floor and she heard something break. She let out a yelp, rubbing her forehead, and her fingers came away bloody.

>

> She tried to blink the pain away, feeling dizzy as her blood pressure spiked higher and higher, and as her eyes adjusted, she saw a figure approaching from the dreamlike hallway, and knew it was not her mother. It was dressed in ragged black robes sewn with feathers, the voluminous sleeves looking like the wings of an old crow. Ragged hair the color of blood framed the face that had haunted Ruby’s dreams; leathery flesh stretched into the shape of a beak, glassy red eyes.

>

> It opened its beak and let out a guttural croak. Ruby’s muscles turned to water and she collapsed face first. Eyes full of carpet, she could only wait with dread for the creature to get her. With every beat of her heart, her vision darkened more and more at the edges. She wondered if she would die before the thing could reach her. Or was it doing this to her? Was it trying to scare her to death?

>

> Was she really that weak?

>

> A pair of bony hands grabbed her by the shoulders and she screamed.

>

> Ruby found herself screaming into her mother’s face—

as she laid her back down on the bed. Morgause put her hand on Ruby’s chest and there was a brilliant flash of white light.

The next thing she knew, it was morning. Her mother was sitting on the floor next to her. She looked up, blowing white hair out of her face. “Good morning Ruby.”

“Am I going to die?” asked Ruby.

Morgause’s lips pressed together. “Not yet.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m afraid it’s time.”

Ruby almost impulsively asked ‘time to die?’ but restrained herself. “Time for what..?”

Morgause straightened up and put her hands on Ruby’s cheeks. “Your quest, my dear.”

Ruby wanted to throw up. “But, I can’t, I can’t—”

“You must,” said her mother. “Or you will die.”

Ruby felt the gorge rise in her throat and her mother sent a pulse of cool energy into her head that flowed down her neck and settled her stomach. “None of that,” she chided. “Now get up. You’re leaving tonight.”

Ruby groaned.

After a hearty breakfast that she had trouble keeping down, Ruby was largely left to her own devices while Morgause went down into her workshop. Ruby picked up a book and tried to read, but her fingers shook too much to turn the pages and she couldn’t concentrate on the words, reading the same sentence over and over.1 After the death of King Ordog, it said, and her eyes kept going back to that word, death, death, death. She was going to die. She’d always thought she would die young, but she was going to die tonight. There was no way she could do a quest. Henry hadn’t been able to do a quest, and he could actually do magic. He was fit, trained in knife-fighting, and he’d jogged every day. Ruby couldn’t get out of bed without hurting herself.

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Around noon, Morgause came out of the workshop, clad in a leather apron, welding mask under her arm, with strange, colorful substances smudged on her cheeks. “Lunchtime, my dear. Stand up.”

“Is it time?” Ruby asked, rising on wobbly knees.

Her mother shook her head. “No, I said tonight. But you have to eat. Come.” She gestured, and Ruby followed. Another hearty meal that Ruby could barely force down, but her mother made her eat all of it, as she would need the energy.

“Where am I going?” Ruby asked, covering her mouth with a handkerchief.

Her mother picked up their plates and carried them to the sink. Her tame sylphs manifested as two pairs of hands and began to wash up before she answered. “Undaina. The Plane of Water.”

Ruby winced. “You can swim,” her mother chided.

“Is that all?” Ruby asked. “That’s why you picked it?”

“You must understand,” said Morgause, standing seemingly at attention, arms crossed behind her back, shifting into her lecturing mode, “I had made plans for you to have a quest to Undaina one day, especially if Henry did not complete his quest. It was not a decision that I made lightly, because you can swim. Indeed, I made sure you learned to swim because I had already decided that Undaina is where you would go.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you. I did not want to worry you before it was time to prepare in earnest,” said Morgause. “After all, the odds were against you ever going on your quest at all.”

“But why the Water Plane?” Ruby couldn’t pronounce Undaina.

“Because of the cleansing properties of seawater,” Morgause replied. Ruby knew sea water was caustic to magic, but didn't quite understand. “Your spirit smothers magic, like the sea. You have no true affinity, but matching like properties between the land and the questor is an important determinant.”

“So I could make a token, in the Water Plane?” Ruby asked, heart swelling with hope for the first time in a while.

Her mother shook her head. “No, you don’t know how, and have no magic of your own to put into a token. But I can make a tool for you that you can use to bond with an elemental spirit.” She closed her eyes. “It will have to be a very powerful one."

Ruby’s heart sank. Of course it wouldn’t be so easy, or else she’d have done it already. "How…powerful?"

Her mother sighed. "There are great spirits who live in Earth's oceans. Embodiments of the sea, imbued with its power to erase magic on a colossal scale. You should try for something equivalent."

Ruby didn't think her heart could sink any lower, but it did. Her mother stepped past her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I have to get back to work. Read up on Undaina. We will convene here for dinner at the usual time.”

Ruby nodded morosely, and it felt like she had sealed her fate.

Afterwards, she went to her mother's bookshelf and pulled down several volumes. Worlds Beyond was a primer on the various otherworlds that existed alongside the Earth. An Account of Ondaïna as Seen by Yvain Reveur and Writ by His Own Hand , was just that, a journal written by one of her ancestors on his own quest. And then there was An Atlas of Undaina, Second Edition, a big, beautifully illustrated volume recording the water currents and land masses of the Water Realm. There were a few landmasses, yes, but they were not anchored to the sea floor, as the water just went on to a hypothetically infinite depth. Instead, they floated aimlessly on the current like ghost ships, held up by the decomposition process of large animals and especially buoyant species of kelp native to the plane.

Ruby tried as hard as she could to cram these last few hours. It was more productive than reading for fun, so she actually managed to read and annotate a few chapters from each. As the hour drew near, she reshelved the books, except for the atlas. It was waterproof, so she decided to take it with her if her mother allowed it. She got dressed—she’d been in her pajamas all day—and did her hair. It was bob-length and pumpkin orange, framing a sad, pale face set with watery, violet eyes. That done, she walked down to the kitchen with the atlas clutched to her chest.

Her last meal passed by just like all the others. She thought it might be easier to eat, but then the thought entered her head that this was her last meal and her throat tightened. Once again her mother had to coax her into finishing. But she did. And then it was off to the workshop.

“Mother, can I take this?” asked Ruby, holding up the atlas as she stepped through the threshold. Her eyes darted around quickly; she’d rarely ever been in the workshop, and it always looked a little different depending on the project. At the moment it looked something like a garage, with all the tools strewn about.

“It’s a bit large, but it will fit here,” Morgause presented Ruby with a red leather backpack with a big flap. It was clearly smaller than the book, but when she unclasped the flap and slid the book inside, it fit perfectly. The book didn’t shrink, nor did the backpack grow. It just fit. “This ransel can hold up to 15 gallons and reduces the weight of anything you put into it down to one tenth. I’ve already put six days worth of rations inside.”

She set the backpack down and picked up a plain dress of white homespun cloth. “Put this on, hurry.” Ruby obeyed, as quickly as she could. The dress fit fine, but it was a bit scratchy. “There are sigils here, on the collar. A fey glamour, very expensive,” Morgause guided Ruby’s hand to the spot and showed her how to manipulate them. After a moment, the dress transformed into an exact copy of Ruby’s favorite outfit; a black blouse with puffy sleeves, pink skirt and suspenders, matching mary janes.

As she changed, her mother explained, “after Henry, I can’t assume how long you’ll be gone. Crucially, this dress becomes dry and clean whenever you transform it. It will serve as all your changes of clothes.”

Ruby hadn’t started worrying about clothes until now. It was a good thing she had this dress. What if all her clothes had been in her backpack, and it was lost? She was almost sure it would get ripped away in some current now…

“This is one of the most important things I am going to give you,” said Morgause, holding up a gold bracelet. It wasn’t a solid bangle, but rather one of those cheap pieces you could get at the mall, made of metal chips linked together with an elastic band. “I’ve enchanted it with a variation of the familiar binding spell. When you find something willing to form a pact with you, do this.” She flipped a little clasp and the bracelet split in two. “You put one on, and put the other on the creature. I’ve made a few of these, in case you find several weaker creatures willing to pact with you at once. I don’t recommend it, but it might save your life. Keep them in your pack.”

Morguase then presented her with a belt knife and pouch full of spell components, and instructed her on how to use them. There was a ritual she would need to perform to return to Earth when her mission was completed. “There are spares in your pack,” Morgause said, at the end. This time Ruby thought there was a tinge of regret in her voice. Henry hadn’t had any spares. “And of course, the return spell will kick in automatically after six days. I’ve put in multiple redundancies.”

Ruby thought of Henry, and felt a dizzy wave pass over her once again, and she steadied herself against one of her mother’s work tables. She was going to die, just like Henry. It didn’t matter how much more prepared she was, there was no way she could succeed where he had failed. Would she at least see him again, in the afterlife? No, she thought, remembering something from her research. The sea didn’t give up its dead. Her ghost would stay in the water until someone came to get it.

It took Ruby a minute to realize her mother was still talking, holding up a bandolier with three, six-inch long rods. “...chemically and magically inert cubes,” she said, pointing to a red-painted rod with a pistol grip. “Never aim it at anything you don’t want to destroy.”

Ruby gulped and nodded along. It must be a weapon.

Her mother pointed to the blue rod. It had dials and gauges on the handle. “This one will create water. You can adjust the pressure and the temperature. It can serve as a weapon, but more importantly, it is a lifeline. No fire can be created in Undaina. You can use this as a source of clean water and warmth, and to cook your meals.”

The last rod was acid green. “This is a disruptor. It will undo hostile magicks. As I created it, its strength matches mine, and its effects will be heightened in salt water, so it will be a powerful ace up your sleeve. But you cannot recharge it, so use it only to save your life.”

Ruby took the bandolier and belted it on carefully. Each of the rods was metal and tipped with a sharp point, which she was very conscious of when they rubbed against her blouse. “But I thought I couldn’t use items like this?” Ruby asked.

“Weren’t you listening?” Morgause chided, tightening the strap. Ruby yelped. “I’ve used contagious magic to tie them to my spirit. You will have to expend some of your own life energy to activate them, but they will be drawing on my power. Arms out.” She slipped the backpack onto Ruby’s back and tightened those straps too.

“One last thing.” Her mother picked up a canteen made of beautifully painted cordovan. Leather was carved and braided into sigils so densely packed that there were no smooth surfaces on it at all. She unstoppered the canteen, and a radiant, pearlescent cone of light spilled out onto the ceiling. “Concentrated magical energy,” she said. “It would be unwieldy to take all your medicines with you. Drink some of this every two hours, starting tomorrow morning. It will bolster your spirit and body, enough to make you feel healthy and strong.”

She held it out and Ruby accepted it, gazing wide-eyed at the elaborate leatherwork. “Why haven’t I been using this already?”

Her mother shook her head. “It’s unsustainable long term. Magic can never fully replace medicine. The effect will lessen every day, and you’d really start to feel it in a week. After that, your symptoms would come back slowly, until they were stronger than before.”

Ruby held back a sigh and rubbed the canteen with her thumb, then secured it to the side of her backpack.

“Let’s get going,” she said. “There’s no time to waste.”

“We’re going to do the ritual now?” Ruby asked, ice rising up from her gut and freezing her limbs.

“Not as such,” said Morgause. “There’s a certain ritual aspect to it, but mostly you will be traveling by portal.” She reached into the pocket of her work apron and produced a watch. “We have thirty minutes to reach the location where the portal will appear.”

She brushed past Ruby, pulling off her apron and leaving it half-folded on the table. “Come now,” she said, without turning back. Ruby swallowed and went after her, legs trembling once again.

They left in the car, a big dark Bentley Saloon. Spectral hands manned the wheel while Morgause and Ruby sat in the back. Ruby half-listened to her mother explain everything over again as she watched the house she’d spent most of her life inside disappear in the distance. She whispered a goodbye to it once it was out of sight, sure she would never see it again.

Twenty minutes later, Ruby and her mother stood on the Golden Gate Bridge, looking out into the Pacific Ocean. The cold blackness was interrupted here and there by lines of white foam whipped up by the wind, and the lights of distant ships.

“Will the portal appear soon?” Asked Ruby, through chattering teeth, as she hugged herself against the cold.

“It has already appeared, below us,” said her mother. She put her hand on Ruby’s head and turned it down over the railing. Far below was a whirlpool, and in its depths was a pulsing turquoise light.

“Okay,” said Ruby. “And how do we get down…?”

“You have to jump,” said her mother, and Ruby collapsed against the railing. Her mother straightened her up. “Don’t be so eager,” she said. “You have to do it just right or it won’t work. Firstly, let’s change your clothes.” She showed Ruby how to transform her dress into a drysuit2, and then proceeded to forge sigils in the air around her head. “You’ll need to be going very fast to pass through, so it shall be uncomfortable. Fortunately, these sigils shall absorb the impact. ”

Ruby nodded dumbly and tightened the straps on her backpack and on her bandolier. Morgause put a pair of scuba goggles on Ruby's head, then pulled up the hood of her drysuit and tightened the drawstring as tight as it would go. When her mother helped her over the railing it almost felt like it was happening to someone else. This was it, the last goodbye. She looked up at the stars, then closed her eyes. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Ruby,” said Morgause. And then she pushed her over the ledge.

----------------------------------------

1. It did not help that the book she’d chosen was Blood of Enki, the sequel to Desert Reign, the book she and Henry so loved. He’d taken their copy with him when he left, and she couldn’t help but think of him too, in the back of her head. Dead, dead, dead.

2. With a wool sweater and warm tights underneath; the upper limit of clothes the dress can become is rather high. Unfortunately the items cannot be separated or the glamour will break.