Until Forever (1st draft)

Part the Thirty-Second

Geneva peered down at the Starheart in her cupped hands, stung by the unchanged look of distress on her mother's face. She closed her eyes, too tired to cry, then wove her trembling fingers around it to conceal the heartbreaking image. It was hopeless.

Behind her, the wild winds still howled outside as loud as a pack of ferocious wolves.  The walls shook with each boom of thunder and stormy gusts whistled like neglected, boiling, tea kettles through the slivers of space left open by her hastily constructed barricade. She had dumped two bookshelves over to empty them of their dusty contents, then slid the heavy wooden structures across the open doorway to blunt the impact of the storm's fury. The bookshelves trembled and hopped amid the onslaught of the elements, so she had somehow mustered enough strength to push a desk and the small piano against them. Time would tell whether or not this makeshift furniture dam would prove sturdy enough, but at least she had finally come to her senses and done something.

At first she had just stood in the downpour staring at the body of Kraw the Fallen, her own body swaying as sheets of wind-driven rain tried to whisk her away into their tumultuous world outside. She had thought him dead once before, but the horrible creature had risen for a renewed attack. What if he could never die? What if he was immortal as well as invulnerable?

But the monster had never stirred. He had lain there oozing fluids that coalesced into the rainwater until Geneva had finally found the courage to kick at him. Even that had gotten no response. She had whispered his name—his real name, the one that symbolized his wickedness—and then she had screamed at his lifeless form louder than she meant, but still he hadn't moved. After numerous failed attempts, she had closed her eyes and forced herself to grab hold of one of his icy cold wrists and dragged him into the heart of the storm. Thankfully the floor was slick with blood and water so his body had slid easily out the open doorway and over the edge of the balcony, disappearing down into the foggy darkness toward the rocky crown of Stormpeak Mountain.

Back inside, the sanctum was a wreck. Anything lighter than her had been displaced, and much of the chamber was drenched. Paper documents and scrolls were strewn everywhere; more paper, in fact, than she would have guessed could possibly fit within these four walls. The soggiest ones were stuck to furniture and objects throughout the small building, giving the appearance that she had wandered into a paper mâché world. The desperation of her mother's plight had helped her overcome the seemingly impossible task of searching this disaster scene. She needed to find the Black Keys!

So she had raked away drifts of the dripping papers, dug through piles of debris, emptied desk drawers, smashed open colored glass containers, dumped out wooden boxes of all shapes and sizes, torn open musty seat cushions, even inspected the underside of all the furniture. She had fanned the pages of countless books looking for secret compartments, knocked on walls and pried at floorboards in search of hidden doors, climbed onto furniture to peer over the cobwebbed rafters in case there were hiding places near the vaulted ceiling.

She had found three keys, none of which were black and none of which had any effect on the Starheart, though she wasn't sure what a key would do anyway. There weren't any openings on the magical object where a key could be inserted.

So she had stumbled back to the great wall of furniture and collapsed against the piano, finally submitting to the exhaustion and hopelessness. Her clothes were soaked through and suddenly she began to shiver in the drafty chamber. She clutched the Starheart in her lap, unwilling to look at it anymore. She had come so far and accomplished so much, standing face to face with ultimate evil and overcoming incredible odds by slaying a hideous demon from another world.

And this is how it was going to end. All because she couldn't find some damn keys.

She sighed and leaned the side of her head against the piano, her eyes inadvertently focusing on a wet sheet of paper plastered against the wood beside her. The beautiful calligraphy had been hand-drawn with amazing precision and detail, capturing a passage of poetic wisdom that made her think of Steekbunk Lowbone:

A heart that shines like a star
Is the guiding light to joy.

Geneva closed her eyes and rested, careful not to let herself fall asleep. She had a feeling that she might never wake up again and, despite her dejected mindset, she wasn't yet ready to give up on saving her mother's soul. She leaned up on her knees and, with another dramatic sigh, tried to rise to her feet. Her calves instantly cramped and she fell back down. Gritting her teeth, she tried again, this time using the floor as leverage, but her rubbery legs would not cooperate. She reached up to grab hold of the piano so she could pull her body upright and was surprised when a distinct noise rang out. It was something she had heard before.

Why does that sound so familiar?

She pulled herself up and looked where her hand was placed on the keyboard. Her middle finger had hit one of the keys. A black key.

A black key? Black...Keys!

Could these be the Black Keys she had been searching for? It didn't really make any sense. She plunked the key again.

Why does that sound so familiar?

She plunked it again. Then again. Then again. And then she remembered! She remembered the bizarre three-note melody that Steekbunk had made time and time again. This was the first note of that three-note melody!

She began plunking some of the other black keys until she found the second note, and finally the third. Then she took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, and she played the three black keys in the sequence that her cherished friend had made her memorize. As soon as she had finished she felt something warm and tingling in her palm. She looked down at her hand and it was glowing! Rather, something inside it was glowing. Opening her fingers, she saw that it was the Starheart, blazing brightly like its namesake. The light emanating from the object intensified until it began to fill the room, obscuring everything from her vision and somehow quieting the roar of the eternal storm, completely enveloping her in its calming brightness.

And then she was flying, floating adrift in nothingness just like she had been before arriving in Daysheen. The same comforting warmth that had relieved her freezing body and renewed her despondent spirit that fateful day now returned, a healing balm of heat and energy that soothed her torn flesh and bruised tissue and strained muscle. Somehow the light looked even brighter in the distance and she caught a glimpse of a smiling face that radiated with joy.

Mom!

She willed herself forward, reaching out for the brighter light, reaching out for her smiling mother, reaching out for home. And at that moment the Starheart delivered on its promise; it gave Geneva what her heart most desired.