Across the Universe

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

by raine winters

Text copyright © 2015 by Raine Winters

All rights reserved.

Chapter One

The House is a maze of marble halls and wooden doors that lead everywhere or nowhere, depending on which way you choose to go.

Though I have not been there before, today is the day I go everywhere.

My footsteps echo down the hollow corridor as I walk, but Nim’s do not. She treads softly, without sound, and I draw away from her presence, embarrassed that I am not as quiet as she is. I fall behind her, seeking safety in her shadow as I follow her past splintered frames and tarnished knobs.

“Remember not to speak unless spoken to,” she tells me. Her voice is smooth and cold, like the marble floor beneath us.

“Yes, Nim,” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but the shaking in my words gives me away.

Nim glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “And remember to have patience while you wait to be assigned. Members of The House don’t like to be rushed.”

“Yes, Nim.”

I almost trip over her heels when she stops in front of a particularly worn door. The wood is washed gray and the shininess of the handle has dulled from use. Nim turns to me, her silver gaze reflecting my image in her pupils. I look just like her down to every last detail, except for my age. She is old—not ancient, but wise—and the beginnings of wrinkles are etched into her cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? There’s no shame in waiting, if that’s what you choose to do. Or you could change paths. Be a Seer or an Archiver instead of a Watcher.”

My eyes bore into hers, and I set my shoulders square. “I’m sure.”

She pauses for a moment, nods, and uses one hand to open the door.

The room on the other side is wide and quiet. The far wall is lined with millions of drawers, from the ceiling all the way down to the floor. Torches adorn nooks in the marble, casting a flickering glow across a crowd of House members. Like Nim, they’re all almost mirror images of me: sparkling silver eyes, platinum hair, white-as-ghost skin.

I gulp back my hesitance and step before my audience. Nim stays by my side, taking my nimble hand into hers. An eruption of whispers fills the air, but then a man steps forward from the center of the mob and the rest of the members fall silent.

“Amara, member of The House, you’ve come here today to proclaim your path. What do you choose?” he asks.

My mouth is cotton dry, and I struggle to swallow before I speak. “I, Amara, member of The House, choose the life of Watcher.”

Another stream of whispers come, this time more fervent than the last, and I switch my weight uneasily from foot to foot before the man speaks again.

“And why do you choose the path of Watcher?”

I exchange a brief look with Nim, who squeezes my hand in encouragement. The only sound in the room other than the flickering torch flames is the fabric of my white sheath dress rubbing against hers as we stand next to each other.

“I—I choose to be Watcher because it’s what I’m meant to be,” I stammer. “I’ve always wanted to care for a universe, as far as I can remember.”

One of the torches dies, its tip dwindling down to nothing more than orange embers, and a shadow waxes across the man’s face.

“And what of the responsibility? Do you understand the commitment that’s entailed?” he asks.

“She is aware,” Nim says.

“Let the girl speak for herself.”

I shrink away from the iciness of his tone, but reply nonetheless. “I understand I must live and die by the fate of my universe. I have to care for it. That’s what Watchers do.”

The man frowns, dipping his hand into the pocket of his white linen pants and extracting a chain as silver as my eyes. From it dangles a tarnished key, its grooves chipped but defined. He holds the necklace in front of him with flourish, brandishing a length of chain in each hand as he responds.

“Very well. Amara, member of The House, your chosen path as Watcher commences starting now. Come forth and retrieve your entry into your calling.”

I stand there, stunned, and it isn’t until Nim nudges her shoulder into my back that I break into an uneasy walk. Coming to stand before the man, I kneel down until he is able to drop the chain around my neck. The weight of the key rests between my breasts, the metal cold and dry against my skin through the thin fabric I wear.

“Rise, Amara, as Watcher, a valued member of The House,” he says. I do as I’m told, rising to full height. The man glares at me, and in a voice soft enough that Nim can’t hear, adds, “Let’s hope we don’t regret this decision.”

He steps aside and walks to the door, exiting into the marble hallway beyond. The rest of the crowd follows, each member nodding respectfully in my direction as they pass. I try to nod back but my neck is stiff from anxiety. I think of what has just happened—how the ritual has sealed my fate—and until Nim walks up beside me and sets a hand on my arm I don’t realize the room has emptied out and we are the only souls left inside.

“Don’t be frightened by Dante,” Nim whispers. “He’s not half as intimidating as he sounds.”

“I’m not scared of him,” I lie.

Nim sees right through me, the edges of her pale mouth curling up in a half-smile. “You’ve been assigned,” she says, changing the subject. “I received word of it this morning.”

A bold eagerness replaces the trepidation boiling in my gut. “To what? Which universe will I be Watcher of?”

Nim dangles her hand under the key suspended around my neck, allowing the metal shaft to rest in her palm. With two fingers, she turns the key over so that the top is upright for me to read. The number one is carved into the surface.

“The first?” I gasp, barely comprehending. “That has to be special, right? Being gifted with the first universe?”

Nim’s smile widens, and she inclines her head. “Of course. As your mentor, I wouldn’t deceive you.”

She takes my hand and leads me over to the wall of drawers. Most are clean and polished, their marble faces gleaming in the firelight. The one she points out to me, however, is covered in a fine layer of dust, its edges chipped and rounded from use. I bite back a frown and slip my key into the lock. The drawer opens with a click, sliding forth automatically to greet me.

At first, I’m disappointed by what I see inside. The glass orb that rests on a swath of red cloth is covered in more dust than the drawer itself. I’m unable to see into its depths until Nim reaches over me and takes the crystal ball into her hand. Her fingers rub away years of grime and reveal a view into the universe held within.

Inside the orb is an endless expanse of a black and star-filled night. Planets rotate between galaxies and solar systems. With each layer of dust Nim brushes away, I see a new side of the world I’ve been entrusted to care for. My heart thumps hard against my chest as she uses one hand to turn my palm face-up and the other to set the crystal ball upon my fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, my voice filled with awe.

“They’re all beautiful,” Nim replies. She puts her palm under mine and forces my fingers closed around the orb. “This one is yours until the very end of your life. Do you understand?”

I nod. “Yes, Nim. I understand.” I say the words, but I don’t mean them, not really. I don’t yet comprehend what the end of a Watcher’s life is like, or why it has to happen. Nim is my mentor, and she hasn’t divulged this information yet.

“I’ll give you some time to look a little longer. Once you’re done, meet me in the Watch Room.”

Nim releases my hand and walks soundlessly across the marble expanse, exiting the chamber. The door creaks shut behind her and I am left alone—a girl with her universe, the one thing The House has entrusted me to care for. I will not let them down, I think, spinning the orb around in my palm. The firelight casts the swimming stars and planets across my face as I appraise them through the glass. For every galaxy I think I see, I find two more when I spin the ball back to its original position, and in that moment I realize what this orb really holds: infinity.

When I’m done staring, I walk over to the door. My hand is on the knob and the threshold is half-exposed when a pair of voices echoes in the hall beyond.

“I can’t believe they actually went through with it. They trusted her enough to let her be a Watcher,” the first voice—high-pitched and haughty—says.

I duck back into the room, pulling the door closed until only a crack of light filters in as I eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

“I’ve been told they gave her number one. The first universe, that is,” the second replies.

“That explains a lot.” A shadow shifts across the crack, and I make out the frame of a tall, lanky girl who rolls her silver eyes for emphasis. “The first universe has the least amount of life inside. Not much to watch there at all.”

My heart sinks in my chest when she says it, and my fingers go numb. Before I can stop myself, the glass orb slips from my hand and clunks against the floor, rolling out the door. I chase after it, banging the frame open painfully with my left shoulder and scrambling frantically across the ground on my hands and knees. I catch the ball just as it rolls into the tip of someone’s foot, and as I upright myself—universe in hand—I lock gazes with two House members.

They are both young, like me—no more than seventeen—and amused smiles alight their faces. They fold their arms at the same time, leaning into each other’s sides as they greet me.

“Hello, Amara,” they say together.

My ghostly white cheeks flush as I nod in reply. I’m afraid to speak after overhearing their conversation, worried any word I utter might spur on my tears, so instead I just turn and walk away toward the Watch Room. After two right turns and several doors down I find it. When I enter the hollow space, Nim sits at its center next to a carved metal structure holding up a transparent bowl.

“Come, join me,” she says, patting the floor next to her. I obey, rushing over and dropping cross-legged to the ground. The space is even more dimly lit than the first chamber, and my eyes burn in the struggle to define shapes in the poor illumination.

Nim’s eyes are closed, her face tilted back to the ceiling as she begins to lecture. “The House has been around since the beginning of time. Its members are tasked with caring for all the universes contained in the void. We must keep them safe.”

“You tell me this every day,” I say, my tone full of impatience. “You also tell me that, as a Watcher, it’s my duty to watch over my chosen universe and make sure it doesn’t die out before its time. But what you haven’t told me—or rather, shown me—is how to do the actual
watching
.”

Nim cracks open an eye and stares down at me with a cross between reproach and sympathy. After a long pause, she answers. “Oh, alright, then. We can get on with the fun part, I suppose.”

I shoot her a beaming smile and hold the glass orb containing my universe out for her to see. She points to the bowl in front of us. “Set it inside to trigger the process.”

I stretch my arm out wide and almost release the ball from my fingers when the memory of the girls’ conversation stops me. “Nim?” I ask. “Is it true this universe doesn’t have any life? Is that why The House assigned me to it—because they don’t want me to screw it up, like everything else I do?”

Nim eyes me carefully, searching for the right words before providing a response. “You are clumsier than the others; this is true. But the first universe does contain life, and being the beginning of all things living, I imagine it’s more important than any other life in all the other universes combined.”

I force a smile in an effort to show her the statement is comforting, and then release the ball into the bowl. The orb lands in midair, hovering above the basin, and the universe within projects onto the walls surrounding us. Millions of stars and planets whir around me, a light show made only for me.

“How do I enter?” I ask.

“Focus on the images, and then reach with your mind,” Nim replies. “But remember this: when you want to return, think only of The House. Of its halls and walls and rooms. And Amara?”

“Yes, Nim?”

“Good luck.”

I smile for real this time, stare deeply into the orb, and reach.