The Chase
In a flash, Kermi leaped onto Promi’s shoulder, and the young man jumped into the air. Just as they left the cloudfield, black sparks, sizzling and crackling, sprayed the spot where they’d been standing.
Both mistwraiths shrieked angrily and leaped after them. Hurtling through the swirling mist, they rippled with rage, leaving two black swaths behind. Like a pair of dark comets, they pursued their intended prey.
Promi soared through the clouds, feeling Kermi’s tail wrapped around his neck. He weaved and swerved, zipping through mountainous clouds and under darkening rainbows. Yet nothing he did gained any distance from the mistwraiths. In fact, they seemed to be drawing closer.
“Er, manfool,” whispered Kermi into his ear. “This would be a good time to show some speed if you’ve got any.”
“I’m trying!”
“Then try harder. Or else we’ll end up like those flower worlds back there.”
Promi swerved sharply and plunged into a cloud tunnel of howling winds. The winds jostled them furiously, making Promi’s long black hair fly in all directions. Kermi’s whiskers flapped against his face, while his round ears fluttered against his head.
They shot out of the windy tunnel. Right behind them came the mistwraiths, crackling with sparks. Behind them, twin trails of blackness blotted out the waning light.
Promi careened into an especially dark cloud. All around them, vapors pressed as thickly as seawater. Both Promi and Kermi held their breaths.
The companions streaked past thousands of glowing bubbles that were floating through this watery realm. Each bubble held a luminous world of its own, full of colorful places and bizarre creatures. Despite floating in the same waters, though, each bubble was destined to remain always separate, always apart.
Bursting out of the dark cloud, they flew into a wide expanse of brightly colored, cube-shaped crystals. Even as night fell across the spirit realm, shrouding all its worlds in darkness, these crystals radiated yellows, greens, purples, and reds. Wherever they came together, new colors appeared, tinting everything around them.
From each crystal came a strange sound, like a note from an airy flute, but more rich and resonant than any flute Promi had ever heard. Weaving together across the cloudscape, those sounds made a wildly unpredictable symphony—sometimes loud and cacophonous, sometimes quiet and melodic, always surprising.
One day, thought Promi, I’d like to come back and explore this place.
“First you’ll have to survive this day,” Kermi reminded him.
Glancing behind, Promi saw the mistwraiths were still there—and gaining. Putting on a new burst of speed, he vaulted upward into a spiraling storm cloud. Lightning flashed all around, while thunder boomed.
Zzzzappp! A searing blast of lightning sliced past, barely missing them. Then another zapped even nearer—so close Promi felt it singe the hair on his head.
He veered to the side, bursting out of the storm. Now they were flying over a dark blue sea of clouds, a region where liquid worlds washed over one another constantly. From the waves below, a pair of golden eyes shaped like diamonds poked above the surface and watched them pass. Then the eyes rose higher, revealing a huge head covered with turquoise scales.
But neither Promi nor Kermi noticed. All their attention was on the sound of crackling sparks that was pressing closer by the second. Desperately, Promi tried to fly faster—but the mistwraiths continued to close the gap. Now they were right behind!
A black spark glanced off Promi’s left foot, searing his skin. He knew only seconds remained before their shadowy pursuers incinerated them completely. So he did the only thing he could think of—he flipped over backward, spinning a circle in the air.
“Manfool!” shouted Kermi, almost losing his grip.
The maneuver gained them a little distance from the mistwraiths. But only a little. As fast as Promi was flying, the deadly beings pressed closer.
And closer.
And closer.
The mistwraiths, rippling with rage, were now just a hair’s breadth from Promi’s feet. He could almost kick them—but to do that would cost him dearly in flesh and bone.
The mistwraiths swelled, already savoring the taste of conquest. Their shadowy folds rippled, spraying more sparks. Then, in unison, their heads opened into cavernous black mouths.
The mouths opened wider. They salivated streams of darkness, for these mistwraiths were most eager to devour their prey. At the very instant the mouths started to close on Promi and Kermi—
A huge creature flew at them from the side. Looking like a giant squid with leathery black wings, the creature opened its own enormous mouth—and swallowed Promi and Kermi whole.
The two of them tumbled down the creature’s throat. They rolled along the ribbed gullet and finally came to a stop in a dark, cavernous belly. A harsh creaking sound echoed all around them—the creature’s breathing, perhaps? Dazed and bruised, they knew only that they were, miraculously, still alive.
Outside, the enraged mistwraiths shrieked crazily. They hurled themselves against the creature, assaulting it with black sparks. But there was nothing they could do now, for this creature’s thick hide seemed impervious to their sparks, as well as their power.
“That was rough,” said Promi, rubbing his sore head. “But I’d rather be in here than out there.”
“That depends,” grumbled Kermi, “on exactly where here is.”
“Wise words,” declared a voice that reverberated ominously.
The companions both started—not just because someone was in there with them, but for another reason, as well. Both of them, especially Promi, had the uncomfortable feeling that they had heard that voice before.
Just then a thick net fell over them. Made of fibrous vaporstone, it held them securely. And the more they flailed and struggled, the tighter it wrapped around them.
“Lights,” commanded the voice.
All at once the creature’s entire belly flooded with light. Astonished, Promi and Kermi realized that they were not in a living creature at all, but in some sort of machine—a flying ship made of vaporstone panels that gleamed with a gray metallic sheen. All around the ship’s hold were arrayed lights, switches, meters, levers, dials, and screens flashing endless streams of numbers and symbols. Round portals revealed the world outside, as well as the leathery wings whose constant beats made the creaking sound.
A flying ship, thought Promi, thoroughly amazed. I wonder if any more of these exist in the spirit realm.
Operating all the gadgetry, about a dozen men scurried around the hold. All of them wore heavy brown robes with deep hoods that hid their faces. They worked busily and efficiently, pausing only to inspect a screen or adjust a dial.
Only one of the robed men wasn’t actively tending to the machinery. Taller than the others, he stood in the center of the room next to a chair clearly designed for the ship’s captain. He strode toward the entangled captives, chortling from under his hood.
Placing his hands on his hips, he declared, “Well, well, won’t my master be pleased to see you.”
Promi’s mind raced. Where had he heard that voice before?
“Before I take you to him, though,” the captain continued, “I have some plans for you. Plans that I will find quite amusing—while you, alas, will find them excruciatingly painful.”
He chortled again. Then, from under his hood, he whistled the first few notes of a jaunty tune.
The blood froze in Promi’s veins. “No,” he said, horrified. “It’s not possible!”
“You are mistaken,” declared the captain. Throwing back his hood, he proclaimed, “It is I, your old friend Grukarr.”