Crewel

The golden light sparkles and cracks around us, but I don’t know if it’s because the rift is closing or because we’re falling too quickly through the raw weave between Arras and Earth. Jost has placed his arms protectively around my waist. If he’s in pain, it’s the least of his worries now. He must really trust me not to be screaming in my ear; or maybe despite our closeness he can’t speak here. Tumbling forwards, I latch on to a strand and wrench us faster along the rough weave, moving closer and closer to Erik, who seems too far beyond our reach.

Theoretically, we could be falling forever, but I’m not exactly eager to test this. I can’t leave Erik here alone though. He’s twisted his head and caught sight of us. Catching on, he propels his body around so that he is falling backwards, facing us, and watching my progress. And then something amazing happens. Maybe it’s the rough, thick texture of this weave or maybe, like me, he can actually see the strands, because he reaches out and grabs at them until his hand catches one. He’s still falling, but he’s slowed his progress.

Jost throws his weight against me, pushing us to accelerate until he is able to reach out with his free hand and clasp it over the outstretched hand of his brother.

It would be a real moment if we weren’t stuck in some void between worlds. At least I have a plan – thanks to Loricel. Well, an idea really, and I can only hope it works. Now that Jost and Erik are both safely within my control, I let go of the strand, and we slide faster along the mantle. As we hit the strands, sparks fly and bits fray. I can only imagine the damage we’re doing. It’s the kind of repair work they’ll need a Creweler for. Maybe I’m buying Loricel some time, though I’m not sure that’s doing her a favour.

Jost’s hand stays closed over Erik’s, and his arm is still tight against my waist. My hands are free so I reach into the strands and rip as hard as I can, wiggling my fingers under the coarse weave under Arras, and then my hands slip into something cool. Night air. The raw weave’s strands are thick and tightly woven against one another and getting one hand through is exhausting, but there’s a strange sense of accomplishment when I realise I’ve stopped our fall.

Of course, now we’re floating in an extended void, so best not to get cocky. We are outside the reality of Arras and its physical laws, but honestly, I have no idea what to expect on the surface of Earth. If Loricel is right and there’s nothing left, I’ll have killed us all. I’m not sure I’m ready to face that possibility, but I like the idea of slowly wasting away as we fall through strands of time even less.

If Jost and Erik want to know what I’m doing, they don’t ask. Even though I can’t hear them here, I would be able to see their mouths moving, but they remain tight-lipped. Right now they seem intent on letting me continue my manipulation of the strands and ignoring each other. Whatever brotherly love might exist between them, they aren’t exactly giddy at their reunion. But there’s no time for distractions. I push these concerns out of my mind and work harder at opening a new rift. Once it’s big enough to stick an arm through it occurs to me that it might be smart to poke my head in and get a look at what I’ve got myself into. I don’t want to drop us into the middle of an ocean after all.

I barely make out a cry of protest from one of the boys as I wiggle my head into the misplaced strands. It’s dark. A large full moon casts a faint glow on shadowy objects all around me. I’m hanging above a street edged by a row of buildings. The light bounces off the black and in the distance it fades to twinkling gold. There’s a stillness to the scene that makes it feel false. Another illusion. But as if to contradict me, a soft breeze brushes my face and tosses my hair. The scene remains relatively unchanged, but as my eyes adjust, I make out the wind tossing stray debris across the road. I hear the scrape of paper on concrete.

The good news is that we are not hovering over the middle of the ocean, but the bad news is that I have no idea where we are or what to expect of this world – Earth. It’s more desolate than I imagined, which seems stupid, because I know there is no one left living on this layer. But there’s shelter and, if we’re lucky, maybe food. I suppose I thought others might have made their way out, but how could they without a Creweler?

Without me?

Regardless, it’s the best option we have. I could try to open a rift and bring us back into Arras, but that would be even more dangerous. Loricel may have helped us escape, but she won’t be in a position to help us if we return. I can’t be sure she’s even alive, and they’ll be watching for our personal identifying sequences in the weave. No, it’s not safe to return, so there’s no other choice. Pulling back into the open weave, I work faster, more sure of myself now that I know we’ll be safe when the entrance is large enough. I don’t bother to look at either Jost or Erik. I’ll have to deal with that drama later. Right now I have a job to do.

Time is coarser in the raw weave and my already scarred fingers soon begin to feel the work, despite the calloused tips Maela gave me. Having two other lives here depending on me, and desperately needing to get through and figure out what to do about Sebrina and Amie, I ignore the ache in my hands. They’re in danger every second we waste on the surface, and, unlike during the moments I wove within the Coventry, time will continue to move forward in both realities.

When I finally manage to carve out a wide enough gap, I nod dramatically to let my companions know we need to go through. I see Jost’s mouth moving, and his eyes squint in concern. I shake my head to let him know I can’t hear him and reach out with my free hand to suggest that he should enter. His mouth forms one word that’s easy enough to read: No. Fine. Sooner or later he’s going to want to come through. Of course, if I let go of him, he’ll return to falling and probably never find this open space again. About the time I realise I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek, Erik impatiently struggles to the open spot. His left arm is still on my waist, and he pulls me along with him, like he’s swimming in the air. When his free arm slips through the hole, he releases me and catapults himself forward, disappearing entirely. I turn back to Jost and raise my eyebrows. His arm tightens around me, and he frowns, but seems to realise that anything’s better than being stuck in this interspace. Moving forward more slowly than his brother, he smoothly pulls me along until we are at the mouth of the opening. Looking at me for reassurance, he takes a deep breath and drags us both through. We land in a pile of crumbling concrete; it looks like the remains of a road. Apparently my hole wasn’t exactly flush with the ground of the real world, but it’s not so bad. We could have fallen much further.