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Prologue
Eighty-five-year-old Madison Parker-Mackenzie sat in a chair by the bedside, holding her husband’s cold, dead hand. He’d passed away quietly at a ripe old age, and was at peace.
We’ve had the most wonderful life together, my dearest Liam, and I knew this day would come . . . but I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on without you.
Tears flowed down her cheeks. Seventy years. That was how long ago they’d met. They’d spent a good deal of that time running around the universe together, until their tired old bones and creaky joints got the better of them.
But she had to continue the job she’d started. It would keep her occupied, at least. In fact, she was expecting a visit any moment now . . .
Uh-oh, she thought suddenly. I’m wearing a dressing gown, and my hair’s pulled up in a bun. I must look a mess!
Funny how that mattered. It wasn’t like she needed to make an impression on anyone. She was an old granny, and that was that.
It was just after dawn, and she felt a presence. She stiffened. “Are you there? Have you come?”
There was no answer, but she hadn’t expected one. She nodded and patted her husband’s cold hand, then struggled to her feet, using the chair for support. It took some effort to hold off the tears, but there would be time for that later.
“Young Liam, my dear,” she said to the rest of the room, “I know you’re here. You’re here because I asked you to come.”
Still no answer. But she knew twelve-year-old Liam was in the room with her, visiting from the distant past, because . . . well, because he’d already told her that had happened.
“We’ve already said our goodbyes,” she said, squinting into each and every corner. “We’ve been saying our goodbyes for months. Last night was our grand farewell. Then we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was perfect.”
She smiled, and tears started flowing again.
“I just wanted you to know, my young Liam, that we had a wonderful life together. Or you and a younger version of me will have a wonderful life together.”
Madison laughed inwardly. How confusing time travel was! She clearly remembered when the twelve-year-old boy next door had used the time wand to visit the future, and how secretive he’d been afterward. It had gotten on her nerves, the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d kept hinting about their long lives together. Eventually, he’d let on that they would one day be married!—reaching a grand old age and thus guaranteeing they wouldn’t die horribly in their teens.
Poor Ant had asked about his own fate, but Liam had kept him guessing because he didn’t know for sure. He hadn’t seen Ant as an old man.
And there was a very good reason for that . . .
Chapter 1
Liam and Madison tumbled and twisted, rushing through the vortex. Ahead, a tiny black dot signified the wormhole’s destination, a distant exit point that grew rapidly until it became wide enough for them to make out a few details of the world beyond. The inside of a poorly lit church? What looked like a polished marble floor, ornate columns reaching high above, and . . . wait, was that a man on a throne?
They shot out the end and staggered before tripping and falling. Liam grunted with annoyance and helped Madison up.
The man on the throne was very tall. He sat there quite calmly, chin on his chest, wearing an ivory-colored crown that looked like it had been cobbled together from bits and pieces—thin rods, wire and string, sea shells, perhaps even bones. Clearly a king of some sort.
A quick glance up took Liam’s breath away. What feeble light there was came from the ceiling—or lack thereof. The cathedral columns stretched high above, holding up several arches, but the roof itself appeared to be missing, the massive structure open to an orange sky. Something about that sky struck Liam as off.
His heart sank. This wasn’t Earth.
What about the motionless king? Was he asleep? It was hard to tell in the dim light. Liam moved closer. Hidden beneath the crown and almost obscured by a fur skin collar, the visible part of the man’s face was gnarled and wrinkled.
“Liam,” Madison warned.
He stopped a few feet from the throne, his heart thumping. “I don’t think this is Earth,” he whispered. “And I’m not sure, but . . . I think this man is dead.”
Madison sighed. “Great.”
A constant breeze swept around the octagonal room and tugged at their clothing. They each wore dark ‘ninja’ outfits, a purposeful choice to shield their movements during their recent nighttime alien watch back on Earth. But their thin shirts had been woefully inadequate when they’d ended up on a snowy hillside, and this throne room seemed kind of nippy as well, especially with the wind from the wormhole gusting about the place. Madison’s long black hair danced wildly no matter how much she tried to hold it down.
Oddly, the dead man’s fur skin coat barely ruffled at all, as if to defy the natural laws of physics.
They both turned their gaze toward the wormhole, which looked like a rippling pool of water suspended upright in midair. “We could go back,” Liam offered. “But . . . wherever we’ve ended up, at least it’s a world with future tech. It’ll be easier to charge the wand if we stay here.”
Madison nodded. “Suits me. I don’t ever want to go back to Dradus Mox.”
“Agreed,” Liam muttered.
He fiddled with the silver pen-like object. Abruptly, the portal began to break up. The spinning tunnel that stretched into the distance flickered and dissipated in sputtering embers, then vanished, leaving nothing but a glimpse of deep space. Then the portal closed down, and the swirling wind died.
In the sudden silence, Liam fully expected to hear a pin drop. He became aware of a dull, ambient hum. As Madison absently smoothed her hair, he avoided the seated corpse and started a tour of the room.
He wished it were a little brighter. He saw exactly one door, and a pretty hefty one at that, constructed from sturdy wood and iron. That, along with the marble floor, towering columns, and decorative arches, gave the place an ancient feel rather like a medieval church. Then again, the throne in the center, complete with a dead King, suggested a besieged and abandoned castle. But the electronic panels, with steadily blinking lights and several widescreen monitors, put Liam in mind of a security guard’s office.
Even so, his attention was drawn to an even stranger sight. Glass cabinets stood against several of the angled walls, all shrouded in shadow. Each housed a dark, motionless figure.
“What are those?” Liam whispered, squinting to make out the wolf-sized figures. “Sculptures, maybe? Pieces of art? Exhibits? Oh—they’re probably stuffed animals.”
He felt a wave of relief. If this was the work of a taxidermist, then he could deal with it.
Madison wrapped her arms around herself. “What is this place?”
“Well, at first I thought a church, then a castle, then a security guard’s office. Now my money’s on a museum.”
“Ooh, yeah, it might be,” Madison agreed. That seemed to perk her up a bit. “Maybe the dead King is just a mannequin as well, then.”
“Good call.” Liam swung around to study the large man on the throne. “It’s either a poorly made waxwork figure or . . .”
Or a man who’s been decaying for a while.
The last thing either of them wanted right now was a reminder of death. Liam couldn’t shake the image of his best friend Ant crumbling to dust before his eyes. The horror of it still filled his heart—and now here they were, faced with stuffed animals in cabinets and a dead King on a throne!
Change the subject, he told himself. Huffing with grim determination, he returned his attention to the electronic panels and shuffled closer.
“What do you think, Maddy?”
“Hmm?” she said, her attention still on the King.
“Shall I press buttons and twist dials? See what’s what?”
“Sure. Just don’t set off any self-destruct mechanisms or arm any nuclear warheads.”
Not so long ago, Madison would have threatened him with pain if he’d even suggested pressing buttons and twisting dials while visiting an alien world. How she’d changed. How everything had changed . . .
His heart sank again. Closing his eyes for a moment, he allowed the scene to run through his head: the zombified Mox shuffling with his arms outstretched; Ant running toward the mindless creature and allowing those grasping fingers to touch him; then crumbling into dust, leaving only a pile of muddy clothes.
But he’s not dead, Liam told himself for the millionth time. He’s in the Ghost Realm. That’s what he said—to come find him in the Ghost Realm.
Instead, we ended up here—wherever this is.
Liam opened his eyes and focused on the array of screens. There were four of them, with keyboards below. Not the traditional QWERTY layout, though. The symbols on the keys were alien, completely nonsensical.
Except . . .
He blinked and absently rubbed his chest where some giant dude in a spacesuit had shot him. That seemed like ages ago now. The tiny translator worked in mysterious ways. Not only did it render alien gibberish into simple English, he could also read equally foreign print if he squinted just right. He half closed his eyes and watched as the symbols on the keys danced and blurred, then revealed themselves as familiar letters.
Not that it helped. Often, being able to read didn’t make it any easier to understand. He glanced around, looking for buttons and switches that might be labeled in a useful way . . .
“Anything?” Madison said, appearing by his side.
“Nah.” He tentatively jabbed at the keyboard. Nothing happened, so he brushed his fingers across a bank of touch-sensitive circular buttons. Still nothing. He reached for a slow-flashing red light and tried pressing it.
Immediately, something somewhere made a clunking noise. A power source whined into action, and ambient lights illuminated the room in a soft, cozy glow.
Liam and Madison froze, waiting for alarms to blare or lasers to cut them in half. When neither occurred, they relaxed and let out their breaths.
“We have light,” Liam muttered.
“We have power,” Madison clarified. “See if you can recharge the wand.”
He dug it out and moved it close to the screens and control panels. Apart from a few flickers here and there, very little happened, and the thin blue light on the end of the silver wand remained dim.
Liam sighed and shoved it back in his pocket. “Stupid thing. I want a refund. Doesn’t seem to hold its charge anymore. And it was supposed to take us to Earth! Why’d it bring us here?”
Madison turned and parked her backside on the edge of the control panel. “It should have taken us to Earth. But Ant stuck it into the Nyx to charge it, only the Nyx was the Ark Lord—or he was the Nyx—or both. He probably messed with it.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Liam muttered. “Yeah, it’s not enough that the Ark Lord turned Ant into a pile of ash. He had to screw with our journey home as well. Probably sent us to the end of the universe just so we’d never be able to find our way to the Ghost Realm.”
Madison nodded. “All right, so we need to find somewhere to recharge the wand, and then . . . I don’t know.” She pursed her lips and peered toward the only door. “Let’s go walkabout and see what we can find.”
They crossed the room, their footsteps echoing noisily. But, with the lights now on, they couldn’t help pausing to study the first of the glass cabinets against the wall. The yellowish mist within struck Liam as familiar. He knew straight away these exhibits weren’t the work of a taxidermist. They were living creatures in stasis. Whatever was inside thankfully didn’t reside on Earth: a rather fat, hunched, red-haired creature that reminded Liam of a small Yeti. It stood on two feet and had its hands raised, frozen in mid-lunge. The eyes were completely black and staring.
A small panel mounted on the top of the cabinet had a green light that faded in and out, indicating . . . what? That the creature was nicely preserved?
The other cabinets held seemingly random alien creatures. One was green and scaly, like an upright lizard-bug with four arms and squat wings. Another was blue-furred and slender, with huge yellow eyes and savage teeth. But Liam’s attention was drawn to a hideous-looking exhibit that floated in midair. It had a bloated, gas-filled body and an eerily human face.
“A gas beast!” Liam exclaimed. “Yikes. If the King was a collector, I don’t think much of his taste.”
“How’d they get it to stay afloat like that?” Madison whispered.
Liam pointed to the panel at the top. Like the others, it had a softly glowing green light. “See that? I’m pretty sure it’s not dead.”
“Huh?”
“It’s in stasis. If I press that button, the gas beast will unfreeze and come to life.”
Madison gasped. “Whoa!”
“This is like the Ark. It’s the kind of tech the Ark Lord used.” Frowning, he glanced around. “Do you think there’s a yellowish haze in this room as well? Or am I imagining it?
“I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.”
Quickly moving on, Liam and Madison arrived at the only door in and out of the room and pressed their ears to the cold wood surface.
“I don’t hear anything,” Liam whispered.
“Nor me.”
To the side of the door, a square panel glowed the same soft green as the smaller buttons on the glass cabinets. That seemed like a safe, reassuring color, or at least it would be on Earth.
Liam grasped the impressive wrought-iron door knob and slowly twisted. It turned, and a dull thunk sounded from within the jamb. Liam froze as the small square panel changed from green to red. That wasn’t safe and reassuring. Somewhere, steam hissed from a vent, though he couldn’t imagine why.
Still grasping the door knob, he glanced at Madison. Wide-eyed, she shrugged back at him. He gently pulled the door open and peered out.
The corridor struck him as far more modern, with dazzling bright-white walls and a shiny metal floor. It looked like the entire ceiling was one continuous light source.
What grabbed his attention the most was the dust-covered droid slouching just outside the door. Taller and lankier than a basketball player, it seemed to be asleep on its feet—but was now waking up, with internal gears grinding and whirring, and a juddering movement as it straightened and twisted its head toward Liam.
One of its eyes was bright red, but the other flickered. Dust trickled from its shoulders as it jerked into action, and a terrible screech came from stiff knee joints.
“Alert!” it bleated in a somewhat rasping voice. It sounded much stronger the second time. “ALERT!”
Liam tried to shove the door shut, already wondering how they would lock it. To his horror, it didn’t shut all the way and instead jammed against the droid’s foot, which now protruded through the gap.
The metal guard slammed itself at the door, which flew open and sent Liam and Madison staggering backwards. Completely helpless against the powerful droid, they could only watch as it clanked into the room.
“Intruders!” the droid bellowed. “Stasis is breached! Our King is in peril! Do not move! DO NOT MOVE!”
Chapter 2
The metal monster stamped toward them, one eye glowing red, the other still flickering manically. “Entry is not permitted!” it barked. “Danger! Risk of contamination and rapid deterioration! Stasis is breached!”
“All right, all right,” Liam gasped, backpedaling across the marble floor. “We’re sorry! We just—”
Abruptly, the droid pivoted ninety degrees and headed for the monitors and control panel. “System check,” it demanded.
All four screens lit up, already streaming data that scrolled too fast to read. Or too fast for humans, anyway. The droid halted and stared, tilting its head in micro adjustments that caused tiny motors to whine in its thin neck.
Madison nudged Liam. “Now’s our chance,” she whispered, nodding toward the door.
She’d already started moving. Liam hurried after her. She was right; the door stood wide open, and the corridor seemed devoid of life.
Well, human life. At the end of the hall, a door slid open to reveal four more droids. Either they’d been stored in a small closet or they’d just arrived on an elevator. Liam suspected the latter. And there might be more on the way.
These particular brutes were just as tall and lanky, but shinier. Even from thirty feet away, four pairs of glowing red eyes bore deep into Liam’s skull as the droids marched with determination toward the throne room. Behind them, the elevator quietly closed its door and began its descent, no doubt to collect more steel-plated guards.
The corridor offered no doorways other than the one Liam and Madison stood by. There was nowhere to run.
“Back inside,” Liam muttered anyway, pulling on Madison’s arm.
She nodded. As one, they reversed into the throne room and slammed the heavy door shut.
“How do we lock it?” Madison urged.
But the security pad to the side of the door frame had turned green again, suggesting the door was . . . locked? If green meant what it did on Earth, then everything was okay, no need to panic.
“There’s no door handle on the outside,” Liam told her. His heart raced, but he tried to remain calm and collected. “I think it’s locked again.”
Moments later, a severe pounding on the door proved he was right—the door was locked from the outside, and the droids had no way to barge their way in.
Still, the noise they made! Would the door even hold? What if they shot lasers from their eyeballs or fired small missiles from their fingertips?
Get a grip, Liam thought.
“Analysis complete,” their far rustier companion announced. Its volume had decreased a few decibels. “Stasis is resetting. However, equilibrium has been compromised. Risk of permanent damage to our King is calculated at ninety-two percent. Rapid aging has already commenced. Further remedial action is futile . . .”
The droid’s harsh, slightly reverberating vocals trailed off. Its shoulders slumped, and its arms hung limp. It looked exactly like a dejected schoolboy, only twice the height and probably ten times heavier.
Its announcement seemed to have got through to the fresher models outside the door, because they stopped their relentless pounding and fell silent.
Liam hardly dared to breathe. He stared at Madison, hoping for some clue as to what to do next. She offered nothing except a wide-eyed expression.
Abruptly, the droid swung around to face them. “Explain your presence!”
“W-wormhole!” Liam gasped. “We came—”
“Impossible!” After a moment’s pause, the droid tilted its tin head. “How did you bypass the security measures?”
Liam shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. The wormhole opened, and we came through.”
“We weren’t supposed to end up here,” Madison added. “We thought the wand was programmed for Earth. The Nyx messed with it.”
“What is the ‘Nyx’?”
“A cloud of electrical energy,” Liam said, waving his arms about. “Really powerful stuff. My friend stuck the wormhole wand into it, which charged it up, but—”
The droid clanked another few steps closer. Dust trickled off its huge shoulders, and oil dribbled from a shoulder joint. “Show me this device.”
Liam hurriedly dug the silver pen-shaped device from his pocket. He held it up, reluctant to hand it over. To his relief, the droid didn’t attempt to snatch it from him. Instead, the metal brute leaned forward and scanned it with its single working red eye. The hazy beam lingered on the wand for a few seconds, and then the droid ended the scan and snapped upright.
“I do not understand. Our King has given you full security clearance to be here. This does not compute. Your presence violates the directives he personally outlined twenty-three fulgents ago. Stasis has been interrupted, and aging has begun. Why would he endanger himself? Why? WHY?”
The droid seemed to be emotionally charged. Shoulder to shoulder, Liam and Madison backed away.
“Look, we don’t know anything about anything,” Liam said, trying to remain calm. This monster could crush a human’s head in those powerful, pincer-like digits. “We’re very sorry to show up and ruin things, but . . . I mean, your King looked pretty dead already, so I don’t see why—”
He glanced over to the throne when he said that, and broke off with a gasp. The King was still motionless, but his skin was rapidly deteriorating. His cheeks had sunken in, and he seemed . . . dry.
“Our King was in stasis,” the droid retorted, sounding disgusted. Shaking its head, it swung around and limped back to the control panel, where it stood as if trying to decide what to do. “Our King demanded absolute solitude. His stasis was to be uninterrupted. Why would he grant full security privilege for you to open a wormhole, knowing that your arrival here during his stasis would endanger him?”
“Look,” Liam said as patiently as possible, “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but if you could just do one thing for us, we’ll get out of your hair—I mean, well, you know.”
Madison gave him a sharp nudge. “What my friend means is that we’re trapped here. Our wormhole wand needs charging and reprogramming. Do you happen to know how to . . . ?”
The droid jabbed a few buttons and leaned toward one of the screens. It started playing what looked like a homemade movie.
“What’s this?” Liam whispered, overcome with curiosity. He and Madison edged closer for a better view, trying not to disturb the droid
The scene was set in a crowded marquee tent. Everyone seemed . . . tall. It was hard to be sure because the tables and chairs were also tall, but there was definitely something off about the scale of these people. Maybe the way they moved?
Whoever held the camera weaved between finely dressed men and women toward the head of a long banquet table overflowing with exquisite delicacies. People bowed with reverence as he passed. Not a single person in the room failed to acknowledge him.
Madison shrugged. “Maybe the King has a TikTok account.”
Despite her flippant answer, it did seem as if the King had filmed his own entrance to whatever special event this was. How weird!
On the screen, the camera operator—presumably the King in his earlier years—seated himself at the head of the long table. Immediately, everyone pulled out their chairs and slid into place. Conversation ensued, and the King watched quietly.
To his left sat a young, bespectacled, efficient-looking woman with her brown hair tied back in a bun. “My King, I have news from our researcher in the Maldorn System. He brings news of—”
“Not now, my dear,” the muffled male voice of the cameraman cut in. “People are eating. Nobody wishes to listen to my woes of a flesh-eating disease. Tell me later.”
“Of course,” the woman said, dipping her head and wringing her hands. After a moment, she added, “But it’s good news, my King.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
Liam had a moment of clarity, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Oh, is that what this is about? Your King died of a flesh-eating disease, so he was put in stasis?”
The droid reached out and ended the transmission, then pivoted to face Liam and Madison. Its single red eye glared at them as it began barking manically. “Our King was in stasis until you arrived.”
“Right, but—”
“Your presence here has caused rapid deterioration and aging, and there is no hope of reversal.”
“Yes, but—”
“Our King would never have jeopardized his own safety.”
“Ah, yes, well, you said yourself that—”
“The logical conclusion is that you obtained security clearance by force. Our King was likely under duress when he issued that privilege to you before he went into stasis.”
“No, we—”
“Therefore, you are hereby placed under arrest. As prisoners of the Royal Palace in the Prime Sector of Rastinon, the Sixth Moon of Nos Farna, you are afforded no rights and will be interrogated in any manner deemed appropriate until such time as you divulge the required information.”
“Now, wait a—”
With lightning speed, the droid grabbed Liam’s nearest wrist. The grip was rock solid and painful, and he cried out.
Madison gasped, then tried in vain to wrestle the iron digits apart. When that didn’t work, she gave the droid a hard shove that probably would have sent a man staggering backward. The rusted metal guard didn’t budge one inch. Instead, it grabbed her wrist as well.
Liam and Madison struggled, but they might as well have been trying to free themselves from a block of concrete. The droid glared with one eye as they fought, perhaps waiting until they calmed down. When they finally gave up their futile attempts to escape, the droid began a steady, very noisy march toward the door.
“You are my prisoners,” it stated. “Please be calm. I have no desire to harm you. I seek only the truth. If you are guilty of obtaining security clearance by force, then our King’s death shall be on your hands, and you will be punished accordingly.”
Sweating and panting, Liam couldn’t avoid being dragged across the smooth floor. Madison yanked and kicked just as much, but it seemed their fates were already determined.
“How’re you gonna open the door, huh?” Liam challenged the droid in a last desperate act as they drew near. “I’d like to see you try twisting the door knob with no spare hands!”
Go on, let go of me just for a second, he thought. Or Madison. Whichever one of us you release, good luck trying to catch us again!
As the droid halted at the door, Liam glanced at Madison, trying to convey with his frantic wide-eyed stare that she should be ready to run like crazy around the room. It was a pretty feeble plan, though. More of an inconvenience than anything.
The droid paused. It seemed to have reached the same conclusion and was reluctant to let go of either captive. “The door does indeed pose a problem,” it admitted in a strangely human mutter. “I cannot open it remotely, therefore I must release one of you in order to grasp the door knob.”
Liam’s wrist hurt. He was fairly sure he was losing circulation in his fingers. “I promise I won’t move,” he offered. “Go ahead and open the door. I’ll wait here.”
Still the droid hesitated. Then, abruptly, it released Liam’s wrist and reached for the handle.
Liam sprinted halfway across the room before the droid got the door open. He ducked behind the throne, then peered past the dead man. He wished the droid had let go of Madison as well, but she remained in its painful grip.
Grimacing and torn by indecision, he fought the urge to race over and pummel the metal monster with his bare hands in an effort to distract it. That wouldn’t work. He needed a weapon. If not a high-powered laser blaster, then a simple crowbar would do, or . . .
He gawked—not at the droid and its backup team spilling in through the doorway, but at the King’s face. It had dried to a husk, looking like it might dissolve into dust at any moment.
On impulse, Liam gently prodded the nearest shoulder. Beneath the robe where he touched, a small section of the brittle dead man caved in.
Liam seized the opportunity. “Stop!” he yelled across the room. “All of you stop right where you are, or I’ll turn your King into dust!”
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