They flew south-west at dusk, skirting the dense blanket of fog. The horizon directly ahead was an angry crimson, sandwiched between rose-gold clouds and indigo heavens. But the Sister World was angrier still. Spire Erika was so close that it almost completely blocked sight of that desert planet, but the crackling magenta lightning at the fringes of her atmosphere were still visible. The great conduit soared above them, undulations of white and teal against the darkening sky, yanked upward to a point like a vast bedsheet.

Kiera was terrified that they were going to keep flying straight and smash right into the side of Spire Erika. The thing was so huge that her senses betrayed her. In truth, she had no idea how far away the thing was.

"I am going to pull into a sharp vertical climb," Fiona warned. "Expect nine times gravity."

Mother Summer!

Kiera poured all her power into her life-aspect weave. She also clenched her butt muscles like Fiona had taught her, and gritted her teeth for good measure. The leading edge slats drooped, the two rudders tipped inward, and the entire horizontal stabilizer flexed up with frightful force. Fiona claimed the hydraulics on the horizontal stabilizer were powerful enough to take a man's head off. More powerful, even, than Sir Zachary's spear, though Kiera found this latter assertion questionable.

The nose of the fighter jet pitched up violently, causing clouds to form on the wings to either side. Soon the nose was pointed parallel to the great stone wall of Spire Erika, and in defiance of gravity they ascended toward a false horizon. The shadowed stone replaced the ground, while the airy limit of the conduit took the place of a sky above. Perhaps if we kept going, Kiera thought, we would reach the Sister World, and then this would be a horizon in truth.

Fiona kept them flying straight until they reached the apex of the spire. The altimeter, which was switched to its second mode, read seventy thousand feet.

"I am going to perform several maneuvers in a row," Fiona announced. "Expect between five and seven times gravity."

Just as they cleared the eastern escarpment of Spire Erika, the fighter jet rolled over and then pulled up. This caused the G-force to aim up at the Sister World, in a long arc radially about the escarpment as a fixed point. Directly ahead and "above," the stone sky featured an upside-down runway, long and gleaming with colorful lights. A dozen upside-down airplanes were already parked on a lot at the far end, some fighter jets, and some six-engine monsters.

The G-forces subsided and Kiera began to fall up toward the apex of the spire. Her descent was arrested by the harness pressing against her shoulders. Lazily, Fiona began to roll upright, using the rudders to keep the nose aligned with the center of the runway. A metallic grinding sound announced the lowering of the landing gear just seconds before the tires struck the runway with all the force of a lover's kiss. It was, even in Kiera's limited estimation, a perfect landing, executed with a practiced style.

When they reached the end of the runway, Fiona parked the craft and they both used wind-aspect weaves to levitate down to the ground. The western escarpment was directly ahead, and there, looming even above the T-tails of the six-engine haulers, stood a small spire of stone, jutting out into the airy conduit. Hundreds of dull metal spikes, each as tall as buildings, were arrayed radially about the small spire. Within, a legion of oculomancers prostrated themselves upon the stone. Further still, four witches stood facing the Elder Saint, all wearing tall pointy hats. The Elder Saint's mother-of-pearl robes seemed to glow with ghostly light in the dusky shadows.

The impenetrable fog far below was thick enough to cover all but the highest peaks. A squadron of fighter jets flew up through the conduit directly ahead, leaving long white trails in the sky, as if in salute to the Elder Saint. Closer still, a single black fighter jet rocketed past the western escarpment, her wings burdened with a cacophony of missiles and bombs. The sky exploded with the sound of a roaring river, combined with the crackle of a campfire.

When Fiona and Kiera arrived, the Elder Saint said, "Seven of eight. Soon, we shall begin."

"Seven of eight," Fiona agreed. "The last of us was behind. Her pilot should be on approach now."

Indeed, when Kiera turned to face east, she saw the flashing landing light of a fighter jet on approach. The wings wobbled a few times before the craft vanished beyond the huge black T-tail of the nearby cargo airplane.

Four witches regarded Kiera with glowing purple eyes, framed by glowing teal fractures. Toward the south, the first witch wore pale cream robes and a matching pointy hat. Her skin was the color and luster of obsidian, her hair a coppery red-yellow, and the scales on her cheeks and forehead were brilliant gold. She grinned with a too-white smile. "Hello Heritor Kiera. Or should I say, Kiera the Mender? You are one of us now, after all."

"Kiera the Mender," Kiera replied with a deep bow.

"Well met," the witch said. "I am called Diana, Guardian of the Sea."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The second witch had pale skin like everyone else in Kiera's life. The woman had dark green hair with matching scales. Her robes and hat were a drab olive color, decorated with slashes of darker brown. "I am Lyn the Historian," she said. "Kiera the Mender, I hope you enjoy your first Witch Day."

The third woman resembled Annatiki. Hair and scales were deep purple, her robes and hat were shining mother-of-pearl. Beyond this similarity, she stood out, even among the witches gathered before Kiera, because of her outrageous bosom. She is going to break her back and fall over, Kiera thought. How uncomfortable!

The woman's full lips twisted into a smile. "I am called Nydia the Midwife," the witch said. "I paired your father with your mother, and shortly thereafter I pulled you kicking and screaming into this world."

"With Mother Summer's blessing," Kiera said.

"Oh how I wish I could wrangle that girl's neck," Nydia said.

The last of the four witches also had purple hair, though it was cropped above the shoulders. Otherwise, she looked thin and awkward, not unlike Lucia Aden. She could not hide the astonishment on her face as she gaped at Kiera.

"Oh!" the fourth witch said. "I'm Sophia. I made most of the airplanes here. Except... not the one you flew in on. That one was made by old Vaska. Probably."

Kiera turned away to watch the path leading through the oculomancers. A tiny witch, wearing a solid black hat and robes, scrambled between the prostrated oculomancers. By the time she finally staggered up to the group, she was out of breath. Kiera immediately recognized the child by her raven-dark hair and blushing face.

"Eight of eight," the Elder Saint announced. Without another word, she stalked off toward the lesser spire directly ahead.

"Claire?" Kiera asked.

"Oh hey Kiera!" Claire Aden said. "It's good to see you again! Guess what? I have a secret!"

"I don't need to hear any secrets from you," Kiera said.

"My sister Lucia has a crush on you!"

"That's not a secret!" Kiera said. "Sasha also had a crush on me back at the monastery."

"The scandal!" Claire said.

"The scandal!" Kiera agreed. "But I already took care of that little problem. Now they are in love with each other."

Claire Aden nodded sagely. "As I expected." The child turned to face Fiona. "Honored ancestor," she said with a curtsy.

"Wait!" Keira said. "You are a witch!"

"Apparently!" Claire said.

"This is the first time in history that a Heritor has turned into a witch," Fiona explained. "And, because of Titania's own luck, we happened to get two at almost exactly the same time."

"Wait," Kiera said. "Claire, you are too young. You haven't even been to the monastery yet!"

With sudden realization Kiera swung around to face Fiona and made a pleading face. The other woman was grinning wickedly.

"You want me to train her!" Kiera guessed.

"The Elder Saint could use the assistance in her quest to subjugate the etherborne," Fiona said. "I happen to know that your schedule is relatively light, and, because of your personal acquaintance with Claire, you are obviously the best choice either way."

"My personal acquaintance!" Kiera bellowed. "I used to change her diapers. That was just a few years ago!"

"More evidence that you are uniquely qualified," Fiona observed. "Now, be silent and attend. Annatiki is almost at the top."

The Elder Saint lowered her hood, allowing her long purple hair to flow with the breeze at the apex of the spire. She raised one hand, fingers extended, out as if to grasp the whole of the Sister World, far, far away, at the opposite end of the airy conduit.

"Relax and do not interfere," Fiona commanded. "Do not ever interfere with this ritual. Not now, not ever."

A burst of powerful energy lanced out toward the horizon, passing clear through Kiera without resistance. The air all around became painted with a pale cyan hue as vast amounts of dream-ether converged on Annatiki. The dream-ether began to converge onto a single point, which attracted yet more dream-ether. No, Kiera thought. No, don't do that. That is suicide!

Fiona's command stilled her. Relax. Back at the Eight Color Monastery, the monks warned the students about the non-linearities of dream-ether and spirit-ether. High concentrations of dream-ether attracted yet more, and if the concentration was high enough, it could even attract spirit-ether. An untrained student could easily claim enough dream-ether to fry themselves to a crisp when using ethermancy.

But Annatiki was no novice student. Relax.

The second wave of dream-ether converged above Annatiki, floating like a halo just above her palm. Then the third wave came, originating from outside the conduit. Then the fourth wave came, originating almost at the level of the fog layer, fifty thousand feet below them all. Wave after wave came, and because they stood at the very top of the world, the line of sight was unobstructed.

Kiera suddenly realized the true nature of Ethersleep.

All the dream-ether in the entire world was sucked into a single point. Annatiki clasped her hand into a fist, compressing the raging orb into a pinpoint which glowed with an angry cyan light. Kiera felt the simplicity of the weave, the mathematical elegance. Smaller and smaller and smaller, all the ether in the world became but a mote of dust.

The sky was ablaze. Kiera jerked her head upward.

Arcs of magenta lightning raced across the surface of the Sister World, converging on a single point at the exact opposite side of the conduit.

Kiera held her breath. Then the flash forced her to close her eyes.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Lightning from the Sister World struck Annatiki, and with absolute mastery, the witch absorbed it all. The power of an entire world, masterfully conscripted into her terrible purpose. Magenta lightning arced outward in every direction, animating and then levitating the forest of inanimate spikes that surrounded them. They began to heat up and glow with an inner redness.

Kiera fell to her knees. She remembered the feeling of those spikes in the heart of Spire Annatiki, down that empty pit in the floor, all the way perhaps to the center of the world. Spikes hammered into the walls of the pit, each glowing with the same red-magenta light.

"How long?" Kiera whispered.

"Ever since she killed Reyndell," Fiona whispered.

"Why?"

"Because she is waiting for the next Reyndell," Fiona said. "This is the Elder Saint's answer. Renna wanted to subjugate the men. Reyndell wanted to subjugate the women. Annatiki stores vast amounts of spirit-ether so that she can subjugate anyone when needed."

Tears poured down Kiera's cheeks.

"I will do anything for her," Keira said. "Anything at all."