December 2021

Editor’s Choice in our 2020 book contest Born on the First of Two was released on December 1, 2021. You can order the book at Amazon or Barnes & Noble, and at our store: amazon.com/stonesoup Prologue Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. The girl’s breathing was labored and fast, the way it always was when she had this dream, this memory. It was a strange dream; it seemed to linger in her mind, tickling its edges like light in her peripheral vision. She’d had it for as long as she could remember, but she never became quite used to it; every time it came to her in her sleep, she found herself unsettled. The sky was light blue, and the sun radiated its warmth down on the Earth. Birds chirped contentedly in verdant, leafy trees while bees hummed along as they flew from flower to flower, careful not to damage the soft, delicate petals. The girl—then just a baby—sat on the ground just beyond the shadow of a small cottage, running her hands through the cool, glossy grass. She laughed at its touch, the way it slid along her chubby palm, and gazed up at the sky in wonder at the occasional fluffy cloud that drifted through on the mercy of the breeze, sweet air pumping its way into her lungs. She wanted to go up there. She wanted to be in that dazzling blue and run her hands along the clouds. She giggled merrily at this gorgeous day. Here, the dream-memory became fragmented, shattered visions stabbing her mind. The sky became dark, dominated by threatening clouds that seemed to reach up into space and cast jagged shadows over the June day. The birds stopped singing, and the temperature dropped. She could feel the warm air leaving her lungs, cold, thick air forcing its way down her throat instead. It was searing, like a block of ice. She gasped for breath, rasping and wheezing, unable to cry as numbness spread through her, jamming into her arms and legs. Two blurred figures appeared. One—she realized it was her mother— ran toward her, unclasped a golden necklace from her neck, and fastened it around the baby’s neck. “You’ll know how to find us,” the woman whispered hoarsely. The girl/baby, for now she was not sure which one she was, held out her hand, but her mother was already racing toward the gate in the white picket fence, rejoining her father. “Stay back!” they called at the clouds. “Stop!” Their voices rang with fear and shook with weakness. Now, outside the fence, there were many dark figures cloaked in dark robes that matched the army of clouds above. Their voices were deep and rumbling, like thunder that was mad, thunder on a rampage. “No!” the girl’s parents shouted. “Stay away!” But the figures were advancing, opening the gate, and the coldness was tightening its grip and the wind was howling. Then her father turned to the sky, tears in his eyes. “Save her!” he yelled. His voice echoed into the sky. And suddenly the air twisted like vines wrapping around a tree, and the girl was falling up, sucked into a dark tunnel. The coldness vanished, replaced instead by a constricting feeling as the air and darkness seemed to tighten—for it was as if they were one thing—and the girl was left writhing, shouting into emptiness as she tried to fall back to Earth to see her parents one last time. She awoke. Her sheets were twisted and her chest tight, as if there were cords binding it. She sat up in bed, panting, and clutched her neck, grabbing the golden necklace that had been placed on her so many years ago. She wrapped her fist around it, feeling the cool metal soak into her sweaty hand, and tried to relax, staring into the rich darkness of her room, so different from that of the tunnel. She knew it would be a long time before she allowed the waves of sleep to crash over her once again. Chapter One: Stars Up and Down “Maya!” Auntie’s voice flowed like honey, rich and deep, through the little house. “What?” By contrast, Maya’s voice was sharp and clear, like water. “It’s suppertime.” Auntie stood at the foot of the stairs, shouting up to her niece’s room. “But I’m busy, Auntie,” Maya complained. Auntie could hear her sigh. “Maya, in the eleven years you have lived in this house, you have never once skipped supper, and I do not intend for you to start now.” Auntie’s tone should have told Maya that this was nonnegotiable. However, Maya either didn’t pick up on this, or ignored it. “But I have homework!” “You can do your homework after supper!” In her room, sitting on her bed, Maya jutted out her jaw. “Do I have to?” “Yes. Now I’ll be out on the porch. Get your supper and come out there.” Auntie’s receding footsteps told Maya she was going outside. Begrudgingly, Maya slid off her bed, lay on the floor for a good ten seconds just out of spite, then picked herself up and began storming down the hallway and downstairs. She wasn’t mad, per se, just highly annoyed. However, it is always more fun to storm downstairs than to walk. She picked up a plate of spaghetti in the kitchen and headed out onto the porch, sitting down with the air of someone who is being forced to do so. “Are you happy now?” She glared at Auntie. Auntie sighed placidly and swirled her spaghetti around with her fork. “Maya, I’m always happy when you’re with me.” Maya’s hard, emerald-green eyes, flecked with silver and gold, softened for a moment before she resumed her pretense of anger. “Hmph.” She stabbed a meatball on top of her spaghetti. Her thoughts blew around crazily as she tried to find a way to fuel the fire of her own annoyance. As she settled on the perfect method, her eyes lit up slightly, the