Inciting Incident

A clear view of the Knot of the World presented itself before her. Aching lungs took deep breaths. But her lungs no longer hurt. Maeve strutted towards the grass. To the black bushes bearing the dark crystals. Every quarter she harvested them at the knot of the world. Only it produced them, a by-product of the darkness it held. And oh, the crystals she had used up. Maeve reached under the bush. Thorns, sharper than those of any other plant, dug into her hands and made her bleed. She didn't withdraw. Blood approached this plant like the Luminarian arts. And she couldn't live without it. Without Fedora. But when she snaked her hand along the protecting thorns, she found nothing. No crystals. Not even the sprout of one. As if staring into time, she kept her hand under the bush. She harvested them every quarter of a year. They couldn't just disappear. Especially as she needed them. She had given up her art at Fedora's handover! She had given it up and for what?
           Mavee stared at the edge of the sky platform. This possibility had never crossed her mind. Of course it would enrage Cahal, he might even cry - Maeve, Maeve, Maeve - but whatever. There would never be a more direct way to access the In-Between. She didn't hesitate. Maeve left the bush behind her. Its black thorns looked after her with sad eyes. But it had nothing more to offer her. Could offer her nothing more. She recalled the feeling of floating. Into her mind. Remembered the cold snow beneath her feet. Of the black fox that had kept her warm in its den for seven days. Of the Dreamweaver that connected the threads of Life and Death. Cahal thought she was losing her mind. Yet she was just in the wrong place. At the wrong point in life.
           Maeve spread her arms. Warm wind drifted beneath her like wings. She took another deep breath before setting her leg off the platform.
          "Maeve."
           She stumbled backwards. Her plan crumbled, crumbling under raging rock as she stumbled over her own legs. Yet she had not an ounce of clumsiness. Her gaze echoed up to the Knot of the World. Its black arm tracks pleaded across the ground. As if this construct could speak. As if it had been the voice she had once loved so much.
          "Maeve," itrepeated.
           Shadows brought her closer. The black arms lowered to her shoulders, sucked at her flank and pressed an elbow to her throat. She jerked her head upwards. Every touch stung. Light-coloured wounds glistened faintly on her pale skin. White lines that formed during the exposure. Light poisoning. She agonised under the grip.
           Maeve, listen to me. Don't resist. Listen to me.
           She was closer to the Knot of the World than she had ever dared to be. Only a few metres and the inner darkness threatened to swallow her up. Her breath hitched. Her chest tightened as the Knot of the World dropped her. She clasped her hand.
           Maeve, I needed your help. Look, look, look! A pitiful construct, that's what I am.
           She took a step back. Unnoticed. The arms of the Knot of the World did not raise the alarm. Either the construct didn't notice her step, or it let her go. The Knot of the World was a construct of the In-Between. And it spoke to her, lamenting after a call for help.
           "What do you need my help for?"
            The Knot of the World thrust out its arms again. This time, as if in a tornado, they wrapped themselves around the space between them. The Knot would not let her go without consent. Never let anyone go.
             You have to understand, it told her in her mind, I am weak. She is weak. For so, so long. Listen, I can hear her. She's speaking. Yes, I am speaking, Maeve. Every breath is looking for you.
             Fedora. Maeve gasped for air. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but none of them poured. Fedora. She was here. She was there. At the sound of her voice - how she had forgotten her! - her heart trembled. It broke in waves in her body.
             "Fedora," she breathed. Oh, so many years ago she had sacrificed her for the good of the East. It had been necessary - it had been necessary! - as Cahal always used to say. But surely there would have been someone else. Someone with stronger art.
               Maeve. Maeve. I know you're suffering. I know you want to be with me. I know you can't.
               Her words pierced her heart. As if she chose her personally and did the same to her. The knot stretched its arms out to her again. This time Maeve accepted it. She didn't waste another thought on it. All she had to do was breathe. Just to listen. Because Fedora's voice clouded her senses. But what more did she want?
               "What do I have to do? What exactly is your problem?"
                 My strength is failing, Fedora admitted. I can't go on any longer. Not any longer. My heart, it's bleeding out in my chest. I cry when I think of our last meeting.
Her words sounded so bizarre. Not the way Fedora would have spoken them. But the years in the dark must have clouded her mind. As the host of the Knot of the World, she needed energy, which she was not getting enough of. She tormented herself with inner pain that could not be released. Black shadows shot into the air. They coalesced into a formless shape - like fog, like fog! Darker patches swept across the blackness of the darkness. The knot of the world merged into the shape of the animal. Black hooves, much too black, were bending towards it. White eyes stared at her out of the eyes of a prey animal. Black spots gathered on the long neck. Perfect for catching her and enforcing her demands.
The attribute of the animal. The inversion of the host's personality. The positive qualities that now belonged to the negative. The black giraffe's eyelashes twitched. Like an umbilical cord, a black, thin arm of shadow sat on the animal's stomach, tying the knot with the shadow of the bush. Fedora pushed Maeve back with her snout.
                 "Fedora, please talk to me," she breathed.
                  I already am, she said. But Maeve, Maeve, you won't listen to me.
                  "I am listening to you! I've always listened to you!"
                   Her white eyes glowed with cold light. She circled around her as if she wasn't in the shape of a prey animal. She circled her until Maeve lost her coordination. She felt nothing but disgust and aching arms. Fedora blocked her light with her long neck.
                  Find a new host. Find someone who carries enough pain and is ready for it. But even that is unimportant. Her ears fell back. I, Fedora, had no idea. But I forgive you.
                  Fedora nestled her huge head against her. Even though she was in the attribute of the animal, her touch felt as sweet as it had at the time. Her ears twitched.
                   "How do I do it?"
                   Anchor the knot of the world, she said. Anchor it. Only then can the change of host take place.
                   Maeve would have suggested herself as host, but she needed Lumianrian arts for that. Not a passive one, like that of the teleportation. One that she could apply and use as a host. After all, the Knot of the World needed its nourishment. At night, the corpses - both enemy and friend - were brought to the knot of the world. There they were pushed into the darkness. All that came out was a mixture of clothes, half-eaten brains and burst eyes. Fedora pushed her backwards. Maeve gasped for air.
                    I'll help you get to the In-Between. But you'll have to anchor us. No one else will be able to help you.
                    Oh, how tempting it was. How much she wanted to reach out for it. How much she wanted to go to Fedora - she, she, not just the animal - kiss her, share a bed and lie with her. But for that she would have to get to the In-Between. Something that the crystals were refusing her. As if the dream weaver itself was blocking her path and denied her purpose. Nevertheless, she could put Cub's life at risk. That of her child, who came from this world. One she knew she couldn't get if anything happened to Cub. Would Fedora really risk her child's life?
                   Cahal Kerr. His name trembled through the shadows. I want him. Make sure he becomes the new host. There would never be anyone better.
                   Her own brother? Cahal? She had already had to sacrifice Fedora. Killed for that very thing. Now circumstances demanded that the same should happen to Cahal. She tasted blood.
                   "Why Cahal?" She held out her hand. Fedora licked her fingers. "Because it was his idea?"
                   Black shadows pushed her backwards. Anger erupted in Fedora. The sky platform shook under her agonised, choking scream. She screamed until her eardrums nearly bled. Maeve dug her short fingernails into the joints of the floor. Fedora raged. She rushed from one side to the other. Darkness tried to spread into the sky, but the Knot of the World was unable to do so. To free herself from her pain, she would have to anchor it first. And risk Cub's life. The only, finite life in this world.
                    Cahal Kerr, she huffed. I don't harbour any feelings of revenge! Why should I? But unfortunately he is my key. Wouldn't you do anything for her? For me, your wife? I need his Art!
                    Cahal came here every day, Maeve was aware of that. He poked his eye out to give the knot of the world some of his Luminarian art. But his stays became less frequent. The more often the eclipse attacked, the less time he had at the Knot of the World.
                    I expect your answer around New Moon. Towards New Moon and not a day later. Otherwise no one will help you.
                   Maeve stared at her hands. She was not ashamed of the blood on them. But luring someone else into a trap and seeing them suffer hurt. He'd look at her with the same eyes Fedora had given her. Why are you doing this, why are you doing this? Those very words would leave their lips. And if the In-Between was just a one-at-a-time thing, she couldn't get Cahal back. Cub she could lose depending on the demands. Her lungs drew deep breaths.
                    "I'll be back by New Moon," she replied, "at the latest."
                     She turned her back. That same day, she left the East without leaving a message for Cahal.