"You're his translator now?" Grant says. "Here I thought he spoke English. Must've been hallucinating that."
"Ugh. Just talk to him. All right?"
"Yeah, sorry." Grant nods to Gabriel. "Okay, here's the deal. We've been trying to understand Sefton Stainthorpe's notes and how he created the alchemy of worlds. If we could get a clearunderstanding of that, maybe we could find a way to counteract what happened."
"Counteract it?" Gabriel says. "Is that even possible? Not sure what that means, anyway."
"It would be like an inoculation for the whole world. We would be immune to the shit going on inside the Echo, and possibly to the assaults of the creatures living here."
"Do you have reason to believe you can actually do that? Or are you tilting at windmills?"
"Kind of both. We're only telling you this because Aldith sent you to us—and Sarah trusts you."
My opinion sealed the deal? I don't understand why. A girl with amnesia doesn't seem like the most trustworthy person. I can't give them any information about my past or who I was before I washed up on the beach. Yet they trust me. Of course, Aldith's opinion must count more than anything I could say.
A light flashes to my right, visible in my peripheral vision, and I turn my head to glance in that direction. Another flash slices across the sky, though I see no clouds. I point toward the area where the flashes had originated. "Is that a thunderstorm?"
Everyone glances toward that area just as several more flashes erupt. Brows wrinkle. Eyes widen.
"What is it?" I ask. "Have you seen something like that before?"
Dax goes stoic, which is never a good sign. "Not exactly like that. But I have seen strange lightning as part of the alchemy of worlds. In that case, it was extraordinarily powerful and could shatter streets and buildings, causing earthquakes."
Still no clouds have formed, but the lightning mutates into silver tongues of electrical energy that sizzle and snap, not quite hitting the ground. We all stand here immobilized by the sight before us, and I can tell my friends recognize what's going on.Allison and Willow race out of the tent she shares with Dax and huddle beside him. He slips an arm around each of them.
Dax glances down at his wife's swollen belly. "You should find a place to hide. Perhaps I should teleport you to…somewhere else."
"Like where? For all we know, this is happening everywhere. I want to stay with you, Dax. The three of us are in this together, forever. Remember?"
"Yeah, that's right," Willow says.
Dax hugs them both more firmly.
If Dax and Allison are worried… Oh, we're in big trouble.
A bolt of silver lightning slams down at the far end of the camp, just shy of the nearest tents. The concussion rattles my eardrums and makes the ground shudder.
"We need to find cover," Grant hollers. "Everybody, head for the woods! The lightning should strike the trees instead of us."
But it's supernatural lightning. Who knows how or where it might strike? Still, the woods feel like our best option.
Slender ribbons of electricity snake across the sky above us, spanning from horizon to horizon. The crackling and snapping grows louder, to the point where we can't hear each other even when we shout. Dax, Grant, and Erin wave their arms to indicate that everyone should flee into the dense woods and seek whatever shelter they can find.
Everyone flees.
The lightning has become so blinding and deafening that I can't see anyone. I can't move either. Something about the cloudless storm raging in the sky transfixes me, and try as I might, I can't convince my muscles to work.
A bolt slams down a few yards away from me.
The concussion makes me stumble sideways and scream. I trip over something—a rock, I think—and struggle to get back onmy feet. Slithering tongues of silver continue to snake across the heavens, and I swear they're searching for me.
A figure races toward me, but my vision has become blurred and the brilliance of the lightning has created black spots that further hinder my ability to see. I stumble forward.
The blurry figure draws closer, shouting something I can't understand, not with my ears ringing.
As if in slow motion, a bolt slams down like a ladder of electricity, one rung at a time, seeming to adjust its trajectory as I stagger toward the woods. A crack and a sizzle resound so close that my heart stutters.
Then the bolt strikes.