“Okay, open as wide as you can and say Ahhh,” Pilar instructed.

Twyla sat upon a work table in the lab, her face level with the woman’s, her maroon robes swirled around her on the metal surface. Another tech wandered by with a case of microscope slides. Pilar rolled her eyes as the glass clanked with each step; the other tech had improperly packed them. She’d deal with that later, but for now, the girl did as she was told, so Pilar carefully extracted the long cotton bud from the labelled tube she’d prepared. With gloved hands, she held the girl’s chin as she swabbed the inside of her cheeks.

“All done!” she said as she sealed the bud inside the tube, placed it in a nearby rack, and peeled off her gloves.

The apprentice hex jumped off the table. “That was easy.”

“Well,” the woman said, pulling open a nearby drawer and extracting a scalpel, “I can always take your blood instead if you prefer?” She made a few fake jabs toward Twyla, eliciting a string of giggles from the girl.

“I’m good,” Twyla said, playfully dodging the strikes. “Want to get lunch?”

Pilar twisted her lips, running through the myriad of items on her to-do list, before deciding she’d just eat at her desk. She wasn’t given a private office like Nicola, but she was assigned a specific desk in the lab that was just hers. It was nice being able to leave her lab coat thrown over the back of her chair, her tablet abandoned on the surface, and know they would still be there the next day. It was also a convenient cover to be in the lab at night to do her secret analysis of new samples; Nicola would assume she was working on the new project.

“Not today,” she said, rubbing the girl’s arm. “Eat something extra yummy for me.”

Twyla’s face fell. “But I was going to see if you wanted to dine in the hex hall.”

That mile-long to-do list suddenly felt much less pressing.

“I thought only hexes could go into your wing?”

A mischievous grin spread upon the girl’s face. “Technically, as long as you’re accompanied by a hex, you’re welcome. It’s just most of them are so focused on our work and culture, none of them really have any friends,” she said, whispering the last bit as if it was scandalous to point out her kinsfolk’s social shortcomings.

With a slap of her hand on the counter, Pilar nodded. “You know what, let’s do it. My work will be here when I get back.”

The girl didn’t snap her fingers as she normally did when returning to the hex wing, but rather extended her arm as if to say After you. Pilar used the eye scanner to lead them out of the lab and through the maze of hallways that would deposit them where the magic-makers spent nearly all their time. The hex wing.

Pilar had passed by it before. She’d always thought it was a bit over the top. The cool silver and grey metal hallways branched throughout the ship, each intersection looking nearly identical, all except for this one. When one passed by this opening, there was no metal in sight. There was no grey. The only silver–if it could be called that–was the twinkling lights among the inky blackness that would be mistaken for stars if one didn’t know better.

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The two stood in the middle of the rounded opening, looking into what appeared to be endless space. Pilar knew it wasn’t; it was just an illusion. And yet, she hesitated in taking that step. She, logically, knew her foot would make contact with a surface that felt the exact same as the metal flooring she was perched upon now. But her eyes told her if she took that step, she’d be falling into a void. Destined to float aimlessly until succumbing to death.

“Is that…fear I sense?”

Pilar pressed her eyes closed, shaking her head.

Twyla was looking at her with glee. “Come on!” Without warning, the girl gripped Pilar’s hand and bounded into the darkness.

The woman sucked in a breath–terrified, though she’d never admit it to the voice, or anyone else for that matter–and lurched forward, her arm pulled taut in the girl’s embrace.

The darkness enveloped her, and for half a heartbeat, she really believed she was lost to the void.

Then her feet crashed into the floor, her knees buckling, her sense of stability off. Twyla still held her hand, and tugged her upright.

“You know it’s just a hall like any other, right? It just looks different?” The girl laughed.

Pilar snatched her hand away. “Of course I know that. You just pulled me too hard; I lost my balance.”

Her short tone did nothing to the girl’s smile, and she continued a few steps before disappearing.

Pilar blinked, her anger dissolving into confusion. “Twyla?”

She took a slow step toward where the girl had last been corporeal, seeing nothing but vast, empty space around her.

“You are scared,” the voice said, almost laughing.

Swearing to herself, she closed her eyes, the darkness of her eyelids preferable to the darkness outside them. She continued her slow steps until the thin skin blazed red with light, and she thrust them open.

The hex wing was nothing like she imagined. Much like the seasonal rooms, it seemed to be much too large to fit on the ship, and completely out of place. The room seemed to be made entirely of a deep-colored wood, accented with red carpets and wallpaper. It extended straight ahead, farther than Pilar could see, but there were also twin curved staircases that led to an identical hall on a second level. There were no bright lights, but rather soft, flickering firelight seemed to bathe the space–though Pilar saw no candles or fire of any kind.

Her lips involuntarily parted as her eyes roved over the sight in awe.

When Pilar noticed Twyla was watching her, amused at her reaction, she pinched the girl teasingly. “Why have you never told me the hexes live in a seventeenth century Earth chateau aboard the ship?”

“Cozy, huh?” the girl said with a wink. Her smile faded as the increasingly loud sound of several footsteps taken in sync filled the room. She turned around, her attention on the area between the two staircases.

Pilar followed her gaze as a hooded figure in black robes emerged out of the shadowed hallway. Followed by two more, side by side. Then three. Several rows of hexes followed, forming a triangle. Each obscured by their hooded robes. Each step completely synchronized.

As one, the women spoke. “You are not welcome here.”

Twyla stood before Pilar, her arms out as if protecting her. “She is my guest.”

The hex in front broke apart from the rest, approaching the girl who stood with her chin up, defiance in her eyes. When the hex spoke, it was a single voice. “You are not yet a hex.”

Twyla stumbled back as the woman placed her palm upon the girl’s forehead. Then vanished.

“Twyla!” Pilar shrieked, looking around frantically before focusing on the head hex. “What did you do to her?”

The woman didn’t answer, only placed her palm upon Pilar’s forehead.

Her vision tunnelled then went completely black, and she felt nothing at all.

Still, she could hear the voice.

“They’ll pay for that, won’t they, Pilar?”