II
My limbs shake as full control returns to me. I thrash in the thick liquid, my lungs already crying out for air. I’m suffocating, drowning in the sky.
Star-like particles crash into me, warmth exploding across my body where they touch. I can’t help but think, I can’t die like this, I can’t die like this.
Just like the person I’d seen before being tossed into the pit, I thrust my hand over the surface, grasping for anything that could help me escape, when a sudden light pulsates from my sternum, taking shape over my breastbone and creating shadows through my skin. The liquid pulls away, my breath returning to me, and I suck it in deep. There’s a pushing sensation under my rear that lifts me up, and I’m tossed out of the pit and onto the grass, sputtering and coughing. Shaking, I glance over my shoulders for the crow that had dropped me in, but I see no sign of him. The moans of other dying people rise above the bubbling and gurgling, making the world that’s half-night sound haunted. For whatever strange reason, it spared me... and looking around, I don’t see anyone else being hurled out of the pits.
Gingerly, I touch my sternum, the glow long since faded. My bony body struggles to stand as the weight of the air attempts to keep me grounded. Peering back over toward the Celestials, I can see that Kyo is gone and the platforms have scatted across the field once again, the man in the orange robe pulling his hood back over his long hair.
Worried they might see me, and about what they’ll do if they do lay eyes on me, I shuffle to hide behind a thick tree, the leaves appearing sharp as razor blades as they glint in the starlight above.
The tree moves, its branches twisting to drop low toward me as I fall to the ground to keep from being scratched, but it’s no use. One of the leaves cuts into my cheek, albeit shallow. Quickly, I pull myself from under it as the other trees grow disturbed, the moans turning to screams as the heat intensifies. There’s a soft whisper coming from the tree as two gaping holes open up in the bark, staring directly at me.
“You cannot escape,” the tee whispers from the bottom hole, reaching forward with its branches to grasp at me. I let out a quick yelp as I stand to my feet, my knees wobbly and body fatigued. I turn to sprint away, stopping short as another tree twists to look at me, whispering something intelligible.
I take off to my right, glimpsing the Celestials in the sunny part of the field to my left. A few of them have glanced over to the dark part, as if suspicious. No matter what, I can’t let them know I made it out alive—and that’s just intuition speaking.
I take another right and head deeper into the field, the sky growing darker and darker as the stars blip out, trees becoming scarce.
I glance back once over my shoulder to see a Celestial touching the tree that had cut me, pulling a leaf from a branch to inspect. Fear clogs my trachea as something grabs my foot, sending me sprawling face-first into the ground—only it isn’t ground I hit.
Dirt fills my senses as I fall downward, that pressure still around my foot. I’m held beneath the surface level, my face slamming against a dirt wall, the tunnel dropping to nothingness below. With a moan, I crane my neck to see what’s holding me. It’s a simple hand seeming to jut out of more dirt; a normal hand. It pulls me upward and I’m silenced in my terror.
I’m pulled up into a hole in the wall, a dirty, smiling face before mine.
“Howdy,” the girl says, her green eyes glowing with a blue circle in the darkness. “Welcome to Moleworld.”
She grabs my bony wrist in her hand and crawls in the opposite direction, pulling me up beside her. She appears to be about thirteen, a whole five years younger than me. Her long whitish-blue hair falls down in dreadlocks around her dark caramel face, leaves and dirt caking her entire body.
She babbles excitedly.
“So what are you? Celestial? Not Celestial, you have no eye-rings. Beholdened? No, you aren’t very crow-like, and most crows are men. Wyuven is the last thing you’d be, but you have no wings. Perhaps a nymph?”
“Human,” I say, afraid this girl will turn me over to the Celestials just feet above us.
“Surely you can’t be human,” the girl says with awe. “A human living through the sky’s pits? It’s unheard of.”
“Well,” I say with a slight shrug. “That’s me.”
Things like glow worms wriggle in the tunnels, tied to several rocks so they don’t escape. They light the wide passageway enough to see the highlights and shadows of sharp rocks hidden in the dirt.
“Human,” the girl says with a wide grin. “So you’re the most dangerous of all.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means when she turns and sits crisscross on the ground, holding a hand out for me to shake.
“My name is Betha. I’m a Celestial Child.”
The name of her species sends a chill down my spine. “You... mean the people who collect humans? The ones walking above us?”
She scoffs, keeping her hand out, “We don’t collect you, we simply feed you to the sky monsters for our own personal gain.”
I eye her suspiciously. “Your own personal—”
“You humans ask so many questions. No worries. Your secret is safe with me. I don’t like my parents, so I try to save as many humans as I can. Now, let’s shake so we can be friends.”
Hesitantly, I reach forward and shake her outstretched hand, a shiver rushing over my skin at her touch.
“Good, now you’re safe from Human Hunters and the Beholdened. You’ll look just like a Celestial.” She tilts her head to the side. “What’s your name, and how old are you in human years? Because you seem older than me as a Celestial. You don’t look like a Celestial Child, which is from ages ten to seventeen for us, so I’d like to know how old you really are.”
“Um—”
“Oh! Don’t be unsure of yourself. It’ll just worsen when you’re inside a sky monster. Your words are dangerous as a human, you know. Hasn’t anybody told you that yet?”
I bite my tongue. She has such loose lips. How can I will be safe with someone who spills everything? “How so?”
She smiles cautiously. “You’ll see. Just be careful what you say aloud. Questions are fine, as they won’t hinder you, which is another reason you humans are dangerous, by the way, but sentences, commands, and demands are the ones that can land you into trouble.”
I hesitate in hearing this information. Hinder me in what way?
“So, name and age?” She presses.
“Aspen. Eighteen.”
“Oooh, so that’s why you seem more adult-ish. You’re a Young Celestial, which runs from ages eighteen to thirty.” She repositions herself, scooting closer. “If anyone asks for your name, don’t tell them your real one. As for your age, it’s fine, but don’t tell the Jibbers because they’ll steal some of your future.”
“My future?” I gasp.
She nods. “Let’s see... an aspen is a tree, so if we gave you another tree name, that’d be kind of poetic, so how about... Willow? I like that word, it has a nice ring to it. Willow.”
“Wait, but I gave you my real name.”
She smiles. “You did, and you were very trusting to do so. I am a Celestial, however, so I can’t do anything with it, per-say… Not really, just a tiny bit, unless I wanted to sell the information, but no worries. I don’t like my parents, so I won’t do that to a friend.”
“You said that,” I mutter. “Wait—why don’t you like your parents?”
“They’re two of the seven High Celestials you met. They hate humans because they feel inferior to you, so they don’t mind taking out a whole species if they can reap the benefits.”
“What benefits?”
Betha shrugs. “Beats me. Now let’s go. I have other people to introduce to you.”
She turns, crawling on her hands and knees once again, and leads me deeper into the tunnel in which I’m not quite sure I want to travel down, considering the events that have led to this moment. Everything is crazy quiet; I can hear my bones grinding in their sockets. Then, after a few moments of silence, there’s sound. Smell.
The aroma of freshly baked bread hits my senses like a train, my stomach turning. I’ve never had a great appetite. Maybe if I did, I’d be a bit healthier, a bit less sick.
I suddenly sit, coughing taking over me. The doctors in my town could never diagnose my disease; they said they’ve seen nothing like it before. It’s followed me since birth. They’ve suggested anemia, heart failure, fibromyalgia, kidney issues, Addison’s disease, imbalances here and there in my brain or my body, but they were all wrong. I’d have something more, something less, something more bizarre than any of the known earthy diseases... They couldn’t help me. Wanted to do tests on me, but my family didn’t have the money. It was fine, though.
I’m still alive.
“Are you okay?” Betha asks, watching me with wide-eyes as my coughing dissipates. I nod, my throat raw and my eyes watering like I’d been choking on something.
“Yeah,” I respond, “I’m sick, is all.”
She stares at me for what seems like a long time. “Sick? For how long?”
“Practically from birth,” I say with a shrug, waiting for the incoming rush of pity like I always get. I kind of shrink into myself, waiting, but am pleasantly surprised when she shrugs.
“Cool,” is all she says before returning to the task at hand.
“Cool?” I echo gently. “What do you mean cool?”
“I mean that could be the reason you lived,” Betha throws over her shoulder. “Maybe you didn’t taste good because you’re sick.”
There’s something in her tone, something she isn’t telling me. A twitch to her eyes and a crease on her forehead. Or is that just my suspicious nature bubbling from within?
The tunnel opens up to a rather large hole, more tunnels branching off from it like roadways. There are several houses made of sticks, dirt, roots, plants, and even mud and clay scattered everywhere, each one stranger and more haphazard than the last. Tiny insects buzz about, glow worms hanging from the ceiling like chandeliers, giving off more light than one would expect. Several people walk around with white hair and glowing eyes, but none of them radiate that kind of power the Celestials had when I was above ground. They seem... normal. With glowing eyes, of course.
“Level Celestials,” Betha explains. “We aren’t worthy enough to live in the field with the tippity-top of the food chain of our species like my parents, so we live down here. We don’t need a lot of light because of, well, the obvious,” she says, pointing to her glowing eyes, “but we do like using the glowies for that extra umph.”
I assume the ‘glowies’ are the glowworms.
“Then there are the mole people, who made these houses and stuff for us. They feed us, clothe us, worship us,” she says with a shrug. “We never told them to, but they think we’re gods... even though we aren’t.” Rolling her eyes, she scratches her forehead in frustration. “Anyway. They live in holes with doors, like little burrows or whatever. Just watch out and don’t step on them. It’s disrespectful to stand on doors without permission.”
I watch as she leads the way, and, sure enough, in the middle of these houses and uneven walkways, there are little dips and small hills with doors that are more like hatches. They’re painted in pale versions of bright colors in the white-blue light, everything seeming to be a different hue than it would be in normal lighting. Celestials meander around, each one more stunningly beautiful than the next; I can see why the mole people think they are gods.
We walk right through the little town with minimal glances, and right into another tunnel. She leads me down a winding path, traveling deeper and deeper into the earth—or the creature we are in. I suddenly feel so small and indefinite; I wonder if this is how Jonah felt while inside the whale.
“Almost there,” Betha says as she takes another turn, the tunnel growing darker. We take another left and the tunnel opens up once more, only the air pocket’s smaller and bricks line the sides. There are a tad more of those makeshift houses, with only a few Celestials roaming about.
“Betha!” A girl shouts from across the way, rushing over to slam into her friend and squeeze her in a tight hug. Betha laughs loudly.
“Annaba!” She exclaims, then turn to me with a coy wink. “This is Willow. She’s got spit out from the pit.”
Annaba’s bright blue eyes widen, the glowing ring seeming to vibrate for a moment with excitement. “You got spit out?” she squeals, her skin dark as night and her clothing glowing with bright neon colors in the bluish light. “I’ve never heard of that before. Ooh, the guys are going to be so excited!”
She grabs my wrist and pulls me deeper into the small community, a space like a town square opening up in the middle.
“Roger, Namnae,” she shouts, Betha close behind us. “Come here! We have a new human.”
Not even a minute later, two very human-looking guys come striding up. One with a weird smirk and the other one shivers, seeming a bit shaken up.
“Sup,” the smirking one says, his voice higher-pitch than I thought it would be, sounding like one of those surfer dudes from California. “New meat, and a girl, too? Not as pretty as I would have liked; you’re like a stick. But you’ll do.”
I scrunch my nose, a flare of offense rising within me. “For what?”
Annaba rolls her eyes. “His attempts at promiscuity,” she says with disdain. Before I can cut in with a remark, she claps her hands, a ton of jewelry on her wrist clinking together loudly. “Okay! Let’s put our heads together. How do we remove the High Celestials from their positions of power?”
Betha and the boys follow Annaba into a house lodged in the cavern’s side, a door painted pastel pink opening to a scarcely decorated interior. Annaba and the two guys are already inside; Betha watches me, her hand on the doorknob as my brain tries to catch up to the situation.
One glance around tells me I won’t learn anything more by standing here. I could try to find my way out, but…
“Come on, Willow,” Betha says with a slight laugh. “Come see what this world’s all about.”
Star-like particles crash into me, warmth exploding across my body where they touch. I can’t help but think, I can’t die like this, I can’t die like this.
Just like the person I’d seen before being tossed into the pit, I thrust my hand over the surface, grasping for anything that could help me escape, when a sudden light pulsates from my sternum, taking shape over my breastbone and creating shadows through my skin. The liquid pulls away, my breath returning to me, and I suck it in deep. There’s a pushing sensation under my rear that lifts me up, and I’m tossed out of the pit and onto the grass, sputtering and coughing. Shaking, I glance over my shoulders for the crow that had dropped me in, but I see no sign of him. The moans of other dying people rise above the bubbling and gurgling, making the world that’s half-night sound haunted. For whatever strange reason, it spared me... and looking around, I don’t see anyone else being hurled out of the pits.
Gingerly, I touch my sternum, the glow long since faded. My bony body struggles to stand as the weight of the air attempts to keep me grounded. Peering back over toward the Celestials, I can see that Kyo is gone and the platforms have scatted across the field once again, the man in the orange robe pulling his hood back over his long hair.
Worried they might see me, and about what they’ll do if they do lay eyes on me, I shuffle to hide behind a thick tree, the leaves appearing sharp as razor blades as they glint in the starlight above.
The tree moves, its branches twisting to drop low toward me as I fall to the ground to keep from being scratched, but it’s no use. One of the leaves cuts into my cheek, albeit shallow. Quickly, I pull myself from under it as the other trees grow disturbed, the moans turning to screams as the heat intensifies. There’s a soft whisper coming from the tree as two gaping holes open up in the bark, staring directly at me.
“You cannot escape,” the tee whispers from the bottom hole, reaching forward with its branches to grasp at me. I let out a quick yelp as I stand to my feet, my knees wobbly and body fatigued. I turn to sprint away, stopping short as another tree twists to look at me, whispering something intelligible.
I take off to my right, glimpsing the Celestials in the sunny part of the field to my left. A few of them have glanced over to the dark part, as if suspicious. No matter what, I can’t let them know I made it out alive—and that’s just intuition speaking.
I take another right and head deeper into the field, the sky growing darker and darker as the stars blip out, trees becoming scarce.
I glance back once over my shoulder to see a Celestial touching the tree that had cut me, pulling a leaf from a branch to inspect. Fear clogs my trachea as something grabs my foot, sending me sprawling face-first into the ground—only it isn’t ground I hit.
Dirt fills my senses as I fall downward, that pressure still around my foot. I’m held beneath the surface level, my face slamming against a dirt wall, the tunnel dropping to nothingness below. With a moan, I crane my neck to see what’s holding me. It’s a simple hand seeming to jut out of more dirt; a normal hand. It pulls me upward and I’m silenced in my terror.
I’m pulled up into a hole in the wall, a dirty, smiling face before mine.
“Howdy,” the girl says, her green eyes glowing with a blue circle in the darkness. “Welcome to Moleworld.”
She grabs my bony wrist in her hand and crawls in the opposite direction, pulling me up beside her. She appears to be about thirteen, a whole five years younger than me. Her long whitish-blue hair falls down in dreadlocks around her dark caramel face, leaves and dirt caking her entire body.
She babbles excitedly.
“So what are you? Celestial? Not Celestial, you have no eye-rings. Beholdened? No, you aren’t very crow-like, and most crows are men. Wyuven is the last thing you’d be, but you have no wings. Perhaps a nymph?”
“Human,” I say, afraid this girl will turn me over to the Celestials just feet above us.
“Surely you can’t be human,” the girl says with awe. “A human living through the sky’s pits? It’s unheard of.”
“Well,” I say with a slight shrug. “That’s me.”
Things like glow worms wriggle in the tunnels, tied to several rocks so they don’t escape. They light the wide passageway enough to see the highlights and shadows of sharp rocks hidden in the dirt.
“Human,” the girl says with a wide grin. “So you’re the most dangerous of all.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means when she turns and sits crisscross on the ground, holding a hand out for me to shake.
“My name is Betha. I’m a Celestial Child.”
The name of her species sends a chill down my spine. “You... mean the people who collect humans? The ones walking above us?”
She scoffs, keeping her hand out, “We don’t collect you, we simply feed you to the sky monsters for our own personal gain.”
I eye her suspiciously. “Your own personal—”
“You humans ask so many questions. No worries. Your secret is safe with me. I don’t like my parents, so I try to save as many humans as I can. Now, let’s shake so we can be friends.”
Hesitantly, I reach forward and shake her outstretched hand, a shiver rushing over my skin at her touch.
“Good, now you’re safe from Human Hunters and the Beholdened. You’ll look just like a Celestial.” She tilts her head to the side. “What’s your name, and how old are you in human years? Because you seem older than me as a Celestial. You don’t look like a Celestial Child, which is from ages ten to seventeen for us, so I’d like to know how old you really are.”
“Um—”
“Oh! Don’t be unsure of yourself. It’ll just worsen when you’re inside a sky monster. Your words are dangerous as a human, you know. Hasn’t anybody told you that yet?”
I bite my tongue. She has such loose lips. How can I will be safe with someone who spills everything? “How so?”
She smiles cautiously. “You’ll see. Just be careful what you say aloud. Questions are fine, as they won’t hinder you, which is another reason you humans are dangerous, by the way, but sentences, commands, and demands are the ones that can land you into trouble.”
I hesitate in hearing this information. Hinder me in what way?
“So, name and age?” She presses.
“Aspen. Eighteen.”
“Oooh, so that’s why you seem more adult-ish. You’re a Young Celestial, which runs from ages eighteen to thirty.” She repositions herself, scooting closer. “If anyone asks for your name, don’t tell them your real one. As for your age, it’s fine, but don’t tell the Jibbers because they’ll steal some of your future.”
“My future?” I gasp.
She nods. “Let’s see... an aspen is a tree, so if we gave you another tree name, that’d be kind of poetic, so how about... Willow? I like that word, it has a nice ring to it. Willow.”
“Wait, but I gave you my real name.”
She smiles. “You did, and you were very trusting to do so. I am a Celestial, however, so I can’t do anything with it, per-say… Not really, just a tiny bit, unless I wanted to sell the information, but no worries. I don’t like my parents, so I won’t do that to a friend.”
“You said that,” I mutter. “Wait—why don’t you like your parents?”
“They’re two of the seven High Celestials you met. They hate humans because they feel inferior to you, so they don’t mind taking out a whole species if they can reap the benefits.”
“What benefits?”
Betha shrugs. “Beats me. Now let’s go. I have other people to introduce to you.”
She turns, crawling on her hands and knees once again, and leads me deeper into the tunnel in which I’m not quite sure I want to travel down, considering the events that have led to this moment. Everything is crazy quiet; I can hear my bones grinding in their sockets. Then, after a few moments of silence, there’s sound. Smell.
The aroma of freshly baked bread hits my senses like a train, my stomach turning. I’ve never had a great appetite. Maybe if I did, I’d be a bit healthier, a bit less sick.
I suddenly sit, coughing taking over me. The doctors in my town could never diagnose my disease; they said they’ve seen nothing like it before. It’s followed me since birth. They’ve suggested anemia, heart failure, fibromyalgia, kidney issues, Addison’s disease, imbalances here and there in my brain or my body, but they were all wrong. I’d have something more, something less, something more bizarre than any of the known earthy diseases... They couldn’t help me. Wanted to do tests on me, but my family didn’t have the money. It was fine, though.
I’m still alive.
“Are you okay?” Betha asks, watching me with wide-eyes as my coughing dissipates. I nod, my throat raw and my eyes watering like I’d been choking on something.
“Yeah,” I respond, “I’m sick, is all.”
She stares at me for what seems like a long time. “Sick? For how long?”
“Practically from birth,” I say with a shrug, waiting for the incoming rush of pity like I always get. I kind of shrink into myself, waiting, but am pleasantly surprised when she shrugs.
“Cool,” is all she says before returning to the task at hand.
“Cool?” I echo gently. “What do you mean cool?”
“I mean that could be the reason you lived,” Betha throws over her shoulder. “Maybe you didn’t taste good because you’re sick.”
There’s something in her tone, something she isn’t telling me. A twitch to her eyes and a crease on her forehead. Or is that just my suspicious nature bubbling from within?
The tunnel opens up to a rather large hole, more tunnels branching off from it like roadways. There are several houses made of sticks, dirt, roots, plants, and even mud and clay scattered everywhere, each one stranger and more haphazard than the last. Tiny insects buzz about, glow worms hanging from the ceiling like chandeliers, giving off more light than one would expect. Several people walk around with white hair and glowing eyes, but none of them radiate that kind of power the Celestials had when I was above ground. They seem... normal. With glowing eyes, of course.
“Level Celestials,” Betha explains. “We aren’t worthy enough to live in the field with the tippity-top of the food chain of our species like my parents, so we live down here. We don’t need a lot of light because of, well, the obvious,” she says, pointing to her glowing eyes, “but we do like using the glowies for that extra umph.”
I assume the ‘glowies’ are the glowworms.
“Then there are the mole people, who made these houses and stuff for us. They feed us, clothe us, worship us,” she says with a shrug. “We never told them to, but they think we’re gods... even though we aren’t.” Rolling her eyes, she scratches her forehead in frustration. “Anyway. They live in holes with doors, like little burrows or whatever. Just watch out and don’t step on them. It’s disrespectful to stand on doors without permission.”
I watch as she leads the way, and, sure enough, in the middle of these houses and uneven walkways, there are little dips and small hills with doors that are more like hatches. They’re painted in pale versions of bright colors in the white-blue light, everything seeming to be a different hue than it would be in normal lighting. Celestials meander around, each one more stunningly beautiful than the next; I can see why the mole people think they are gods.
We walk right through the little town with minimal glances, and right into another tunnel. She leads me down a winding path, traveling deeper and deeper into the earth—or the creature we are in. I suddenly feel so small and indefinite; I wonder if this is how Jonah felt while inside the whale.
“Almost there,” Betha says as she takes another turn, the tunnel growing darker. We take another left and the tunnel opens up once more, only the air pocket’s smaller and bricks line the sides. There are a tad more of those makeshift houses, with only a few Celestials roaming about.
“Betha!” A girl shouts from across the way, rushing over to slam into her friend and squeeze her in a tight hug. Betha laughs loudly.
“Annaba!” She exclaims, then turn to me with a coy wink. “This is Willow. She’s got spit out from the pit.”
Annaba’s bright blue eyes widen, the glowing ring seeming to vibrate for a moment with excitement. “You got spit out?” she squeals, her skin dark as night and her clothing glowing with bright neon colors in the bluish light. “I’ve never heard of that before. Ooh, the guys are going to be so excited!”
She grabs my wrist and pulls me deeper into the small community, a space like a town square opening up in the middle.
“Roger, Namnae,” she shouts, Betha close behind us. “Come here! We have a new human.”
Not even a minute later, two very human-looking guys come striding up. One with a weird smirk and the other one shivers, seeming a bit shaken up.
“Sup,” the smirking one says, his voice higher-pitch than I thought it would be, sounding like one of those surfer dudes from California. “New meat, and a girl, too? Not as pretty as I would have liked; you’re like a stick. But you’ll do.”
I scrunch my nose, a flare of offense rising within me. “For what?”
Annaba rolls her eyes. “His attempts at promiscuity,” she says with disdain. Before I can cut in with a remark, she claps her hands, a ton of jewelry on her wrist clinking together loudly. “Okay! Let’s put our heads together. How do we remove the High Celestials from their positions of power?”
Betha and the boys follow Annaba into a house lodged in the cavern’s side, a door painted pastel pink opening to a scarcely decorated interior. Annaba and the two guys are already inside; Betha watches me, her hand on the doorknob as my brain tries to catch up to the situation.
One glance around tells me I won’t learn anything more by standing here. I could try to find my way out, but…
“Come on, Willow,” Betha says with a slight laugh. “Come see what this world’s all about.”
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