“Yes, But Only Of Its Body. All Conscious Beings Have A Body And A Soul. What You See Here Are The Kah-Gash’s Physical Remains. The Segments Of Its Soul Flew Off Along With Everything Else.”

“Does that mean there are sixty-four pieces?” I ask.

“No. There Are Only Three. You, Bec, And…” Art falls silent, then says, “Something Is Happening.”

“What do you—” I start to ask.

“Quiet!” Art snaps.

I look around, trying to determine the source of Art’s unease. My first thought is that the demons are mounting an attack, but they don’t seem to be paying any attention to us. And the panels are revolving the same as before. So why…

Wait. I’m wrong. The panels aren’t the same. They’re not circling any longer. They’re gliding forward now. Towards us. Towards me.

“Art?” I mumble. “What are they doing?”

“Gravitating Towards You. Possibly Trying To Reunite.”

“Is that bad?” I ask.

Art doesn’t answer. Instead he reverses direction and suddenly we’re flying towards the ring of fire as fast as we can.

“What’s going on?” I shout.

“We Do Not Know,” Art says. “We Had Not Expected Such A Reaction.”

“What will happen if they join?”

“We Are Not Sure. Maybe Nothing. Maybe The End Of All We Know.”

“The end of the universes?” I gasp.

“Perhaps.”

I stare with horror at the giant squares. They’re coming together slowly, but not slowly enough for my liking.

“Will they stop if we get out of here?” I ask.

“We Think So,” Art says. There’s a brief pause. “We Hope So.”

I watch helplessly as we draw away from the panels. It looks like we’ll make it out of here before they join. After that we’ll just have to pray that—

A blast of magic strikes us and Art makes a high-pitched shrieking noise. We’re knocked sideways. I glance to my left, the direction the shot came from. I spot a pack of demons streaking towards us. They unleash more bolts of magic, but the Old Creatures intercept them and blast them aside or absorb the shots themselves.

“Art?” I whisper, fearing the worst.

“I Am Not Dead,” he says. “You Will Perish Too If I Die.”

We pick up speed again.

“Why are they doing this?” I pant, keeping a close eye on the fighting. The Old Creatures and demons aren’t engaging at close quarters—they hover apart and take long-range shots at one another—but it looks ugly. A few of the balls of light are shattered while I watch, and several of the demons are ripped apart.

“The Demonata Wish For The End Of The Universes,” Art says. “They Must Have Seen The Panels Move, Spotted You, And Guessed You Were The Source Of The Disturbance. Like Us, They Cannot Know What Will Happen If The Panels Join, But They Clearly Wish To Keep You Here And—”

Art is struck again. He doesn’t slow this time, but his scream lasts even longer than before. We’re almost at the ring of fire, but a demon has broken through the ranks of Old Creatures and is narrowing the gap, moving faster than we are.

We hit the wall of fire and plow through. It feels even hotter than it did the last time. Areas of my skin start to smolder.

“You Must Use Magic,” Art says calmly. “I Cannot Protect You As I Did Before. I Am Wounded And Must Focus On Opening A Window.”

“If we make it through the fire, we’ll be safe, right?” I yell, doing what I can to counter the burns breaking out across my flesh. “They can’t follow us into the human universe, can they?”

“No,” Art says. “But We Will Not Make It. The Demon Will Catch Us. We Have To Open The Window From Here.”

“Can you do that?” I ask.

“In Theory,” he says, doing nothing to calm my frayed nerves.

Art is struck again but pushes on, concentrating on the small patches of light that I glimpse through the flicker of the flames. I try to create a barrier to help but there isn’t a strong supply of magic here, at least not the sort I can tap into. The best I can do is cool my skin and quench the worst of the flames.

The demon looks nothing like those I’ve fought in the past. It’s huge, a mass of bulges, not shaped like any animal I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure where its face is. All I know is that it’s utterly evil, determined to kill us, and closing quickly.

“Art…” I mutter.

“We Know,” he replies. “I Have Almost…”

A window of red light forms in the distance, almost impossible to see against the fiery backdrop. I give a shout of triumph, but it’s drowned out when another blast of magic hits us. Art screeches. The bolt of energy drives us closer towards the window, but Art’s scream cuts out midway and the lights around me shatter.

I realize with horror that Art has been killed, but there’s no time to mourn. My flesh erupts, fire exploding from every pore. I scream silently, consumed by flames. In a mad fury I try to slap them out. It’s a hopeless task, but before the fire can finish the job, I hit the window and plunge into the sub-universe of multicolored lights without anyone to protect or guide me.

There’s no oxygen, so the flames die away. The pain doesn’t, but I’ve no time to focus on that. It’s freezing and there isn’t any air. If I can’t construct a shell around myself, and soon, I’m finished.

I search for magic, but there’s nothing I can make use of. This zone of lights contains even less magical energy than there was on Earth. I thrash about like a fish on dry land, lips shut, eyes bulging. I feel my skin tighten from the cold, but that doesn’t bother me. I’ll suffocate long before I freeze to death.

As my lungs strain for air that isn’t there, my limbs go still and a calm wave spreads through me. In a way this is fitting. I was always a lonely child. I often felt out of place, not in sync with the people around me. Now I’m going to die in true isolation, more alone than any human has ever been.

A gloomy mist crosses my eyes. I think it’s the shades of death drawing over my face, but then I blink and realize it’s a dark green window that has opened ahead of me. As I stare at it numbly, a ball of light shoots through and envelops me from head to toe. I’ve just enough time to marvel at the warmth it brings. Then my eyelids flutter and I fall unconscious.

I awake on a grey, cold, ashen world. I sit up, groaning. My skin is blistered. Parts feel raw. But I’m alive.

Something moves nearby.

“Art?” I call.

“No.” A tall black man steps into view. He’s fat, with very dark skin, dressed in an expensive-looking suit.

My eyes widen. “Raz?” I gasp.

“Only in appearance,” the man says solemnly.

“I don’t understand.” I start to rise but pain prevents me. Grimacing, I frown at the fat man. Raz Warlo was a Disciple. I met him when I first joined Beranabus. He was killed during the quest to find my baby brother. “Why change?” I wheeze.

“The one you knew as Art is dead,” Raz says. “Although shapes mean nothing to us, we know you need them to make sense of the universe. We felt it would be easier for you if I took a different form.” He looks down at himself and frowns. “The suit was a difficult touch.”

“What happened back there?” I ask.

“The panels of the Kah-Gash reacted to your presence,” Raz says. “The demons attacked. We managed to get you out before they killed you.”

“And the panels? Did they stop?”

“The fact that we still exist makes me think so,” Raz says dryly.

I nod slowly, then clear my throat. “Art sacrificed himself to save me.”

“Evidently.”

“And you placed your life at risk by coming after me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I groan. “Why take me to the Crux and risk your lives for my sake?”

“That will become clear very soon,” Raz says and nods at a rock behind me. “That is a lodestone. It is the reason I brought you to this world. I suggest you use its power to heal yourself before we continue.”