Wood Sprites

She locked on to the falling debris. It looked like a jigsaw puzzle thrown into the air and caught on film before raining onto the ground. Judging by the speed it flashed out of camera range, it had a vastly different orbit than the gate. It appeared only in a dozen frames of film.

Space limited the number of possible sources. It wasn’t like Earth where “machine” could run from anything airplane to mining equipment to submarine. She linked a recognition program to the “known space objects” database and fed it the dozen frames of film that showed the debris.

“I don’t understand,” Crow Boy said. “The gate in orbit generated the field that kept Pittsburgh on Elfhome. If the gate is gone, what happened to the city?”

“We don’t know!” the twins and Nikola cried.

The recognition program found a match. The largest piece of debris was an odd glittering mass that looked like an iceberg growing out of a medusa of silvery tubing. The iceberg was spinning as it rocketed away. In frame number nine, it showed its smooth underbelly. There were three small ports and the start of a Chinese letter in red. The recognition software filled in missing pieces and the ghostly outline of the colony ship Minghe Hao took shape. Part of the ship’s hull had been peeled back by some unknown collision, laying bare the water-treatment plant. The ship’s vast store of water formed the glimmering iceberg blooming out of the shattered remains. The constellation of smaller debris was identified as pieces of the ship’s orbital maneuvering system. Burn marks indicated that the rocket engines had been fired prior to the ship’s destruction. It would explain the speed and angle of the wreckage. But Minghe Hao had jumped out of Earth’s orbit six years ago.

Crow Boy made a small hurt sound. “I had family on the Minghe Hao.”

“Maybe Esme saved them.” Louise offered what little comfort she could. “The colony ships are massive. We’re looking at only a small section of the Minghe Hao.”

It was enough, though, to wreak havoc on Earth. The television was showing complete panic as the pieces rained down. No one else had yet identified the debris. The news was still calling it “the gate.” The Minghe Hao’s missing engines had aimed the ship at American’s heartland prior to being sheared off. Remains of the water-treatment system struck the town of Bellbrook, Ohio, with such force that the reporters were stating “possible nuclear weapon” to describe the destruction.

“The gate is gone!” Jillian tossed her tablet aside and began to pace around the room in long, man-length strides. She was fleeing into the character of Captain Hilts as fast as she could. “Even if the gate wasn’t what fell, it’s not in Earth-space anymore. It’s probably wherever the rest of the Minghe Hao is, and that can’t be a good thing. The Minghe Hao hit something!”

Jillian was desperately trying to be strong. Now that Louise knew the signs, it was all so clear. Her twin was trying to press her lips into Hilts’ thin, confident sneer, but they kept trembling. She threw herself onto the couch, trying for the soldier’s seemingly carefree slouch. “We’re not talking rush hour on the George Washington Bridge here. There’s not a lot of shit to hit in space.”

All completely true.

Statistically, whatever accident shattered the Minghe Hao most likely had also claimed the gate. The structure had been built in space, spiderweb-delicate and carefully balanced. It hadn’t been designed to take a hard blow and recover. The gate had small positioning-correction thrusters but it wouldn’t be able to save itself if it had been smashed out of its orbit.

If something had gone horribly wrong over Elfhome — and all evidence pointed that way — the gate had been lost. Without it, the magic that linked the two worlds was broken. The great ironwood forest would forever be on Earth and Pittsburgh was lost.

It was frighteningly huge, and Louise didn’t know what they could do. All her hopes had been pinned on the idea that they would find the tengu children, free them, fly over the quarantine zone next Shutdown in hovercarts, and in short order be with Alexander and Windwolf. She had found a great deal of comfort thinking that powerful, unflappable Prince Yardstick would be protecting them. All they had to do was to get to his side and all would be over.

Now she had no idea what they should do.

But Louise did know that they couldn’t do nothing. They were standing out in the middle of a freeway. They had to move or be mowed down by everything hurtling at them with murderous speed.

Or more correctly, Louise had to do something.

At the mansion, right after their parents had died, Jillian had been too broken to pretend anything. She’d pasted all her broken bits back together, but the cracks were all still there. The promise of escape to Elfhome was the only glue that was keeping Jillian in one piece.

With that promise gone, the cracks were coming undone.