UNSPOKEN: Undone Realms Book 3

Ch. 8: Divide et Impera

 (3 days after Nolan's crossing) 

Marcella is something of a legend among the Vitalists.  Using only what at the time was the Callers' severely limited knowledge of realm work, she was able to expand her abilities greatly, figuring out not only how to journey to her world's dual realm, but also how to create a miniature world using the fabric of the Fold itself. 

"The realm Marcella created is where Clara lives," Nolan's mother tells him, as if he couldn't have put two and two together and figured that out on his own.

Vira continues listing Marcella's achievements and after a while, Nolan stops listening.  Meanwhile, Marcella's attention is fixated squarely upon Nolan.

He fidgets with the frayed hem of his hoodie, trying to ignore the feeling that his every breath is being observed by this genius realm-hopping granny.

Marcella interrupts his mother and asks her to make them breakfast, then comes and sits on the couch next to Nolan.

"Please stop staring at me."  He begins edging his hoodie up over his head, but then thinks better of it.  The old Nolan would have shrouded himself.  Not him.  He won't hide, no matter how awkward he feels.

Marcella laughs and pats his knees.  "How is she?"

"She?"  Of course he knows exactly who "she" is.  "She's fine.  Better than fine."  A lump, hard and impassible, forms in his throat.  "She's wonderful."

"I knew she would be."  Marcella smiles and removes a silver disc from her bag.  She taps its surface and then shows it to Nolan.  "This is Clara, the last time I saw her.  She had just turned three." Her finger hovers over the image.  "It's been over six years since I've journeyed to the realm I created for her."

Nolan stares at the screen.  A cherubic toddler with wavy black hair smiles back at him.  It looks like Clara, but there must be some sort of mistake.  "This can't be the same girl.  Clara's my age, roughly.  If what you said is true, the girl in your picture should still be a child."

"Time is a tricky matter, Nolan.  And I'm afraid the realm I created has become even more peculiar than it had been when Clara first entered it.  Your—what are we calling it?—your division and subsequent crossing into Clara's realm marked the end of the Ban on realm journeying the Vitalists had put into place six years ago.  By then we already knew your home realm, the realm linked most closely to Clara's, had experienced fifteen years while the rest of the realms had experienced only six."

She pauses, taking in Nolan's confused expression before continuing in her attempts to explain what Nolan thinks could be summed in two words: Time warp.  "That is not the way the realms normally function.  Time is time.  We manipulate our perceptions of it when we travel through the Fold, but time itself is constant.  We could have chosen to journey to your realm fifteen years after the Ban began, but we did so not by choice—we were forced to.  Your realm experienced nine additional years that we have been barred from.  Damned irritating really.  We have no explanation for this, but it seems that Clara's realm is in sync with yours.  We believe it's responsible for this temporal abrasion, unfortunately.  Because of this, we don't even dare entering her realm, not at this point."

For the first time since he left Clara and his non-breathing clone at the hotel, Nolan feels afraid.  "Is there something wrong with her realm?  Is she safe there?"

"For now," his mother answers as she hands him a plate with scrambled eggs and toast.  "But what's happened is a concern.  The temporal abrasion, your division—all of it has left the Vitalists with a lot of questions."

"We're working to answer those questions, of course," Marcella tries to reassure him.  "And that's where you come in."

Nolan's fork freezes midway to his mouth.  "Me?"

"You." His mother perches on the side of the couch.  Both women examine him like he's a prize pig at the county fair.

"Our work—the work that Vitalists were engaged in and for which the Ban went into place—was interrupted when you divided."  His mother bites her lip and when it appears she doesn't know what to say next, Marcella continues for her.

"Your division, being both remarkable and unprecedented, changed our game plan.  We decided to end the Ban in order to come and retrieve you.  We suspect that with your unique abilities, we'll be able to complete what we began."

Nolan shifts uncomfortably and places the plate with his uneaten breakfast on the coffee table.  "I don't really see how.  I don't even know what you're trying to do."

He eyes his mother with a mixture of suspicion and disappointment.  So that's why she found him after all this time.  She thought he could be useful to her.  Was her half-hearted show of maternal affection merely a means to an end?

As if she's just calculated that such affection has come due, Vira puts her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.  Nolan resists pulling away.  "We need your help Nolan." 

"To do what?"

She cocks her head to the side.  Her hand stays clenched onto him.  "We need you to divide and conquer."

A/N: Exactly what do you think are Marcella and Vira expecting of Nolan?  What could the nature of this mission of theirs possibly be?

Thank you so much, everyone, for your continuing reads, comments, and votes.  They really do keep me going, and not just with this story.  The support on Wattpad has encouraged me to engage in all sorts of writing projects and competitions.  It's thanks to all of you that I've continued undeterred down the often bumpy writer's path.

Today's chapter is dedicated to horror writer extraordinaire, @JoshSaltzman.  His collection of short stories, STRANGE YARNS, is terrifying, thought-provoking, devastating, and funny.  If you are looking for high quality polished stories and are a fan of the dark, look no further!