A bonus story from the Rifters universe…

Darkness wrapped its fingers around the last dregs of day, pulling down the sun, leaving behind bruising colors that faded into black. Cordelia Swit sat on a fallen log with her best friend in the woods. Before them rose two obsidian pillars in a small clearing among the pines.

The pines in the high desert of Oregon didn’t grow into the impressive towers as the forests to the west in the Cascades to the coast, but their tops teased the descending night and welcomed a chill more associated with winter than early July. It would be another week or so before warmth elbowed its way into the hours after sunset.

Cordelia huddled with Dottie Hessler, her best friend, under a quilt. The two of them wore bearskin coats, knitted mittens, and scarves, but it wasn’t enough to chase away a case of the shivers. Dottie pulled out a canteen and two cups, placing them on a boulder in front of them. Before she could poor the steaming contents of the canteen, Cordelia stopped her.

The heady aroma of well-brewed coffee hit Cordelia’s nose, and she sighed. “It will get cold too fast in the cups.”

“You’re right.” Dottie took a sip and handed the canteen over. Her usually prim curls were stuffed under a hunting cap she had taken from her father. The earflaps were down and tied under her chin so they’d stay down. Where Dottie was fair and light and giggly, Cordelia was darker, coarser, more brooding.

Dottie had said that’s why there were such good friends, because they fit together like salt and paper, like light and dark, like teasing and serious. This held true as Settler grew and more people occupied the town. Each of them always knew what the other needed and never shied away from providing it.

Cordelia sipped cautiously without flinching at the soft pinch of scalding coffee on her lips and tongue. Feeling something other than bone-boring cold was welcome. “Too bad it can’t stay hot until morning.”

“Now there would be an invention. I don’t suppose our resident genius blacksmith could come up with something?”

“We’ll bring it up at the Rifter meeting tomorrow.”

“Let us have nothing to report.” Dottie sent her wish out into the universe, and as her words faded, the obsidian pillars sizzled into life. Blue fingers of energy licked up their sides, reaching into the sky, then arching in toward each other to form a circle. She set down her cup and clutched at Cordelia’s arm.

Cordelia stood to face whatever monster was about to set foot on their world, clutching a sword in one hand and a club in the other. With a deep breath, Dottie mustered her courage and took the club, brandishing it over her shoulder.

The blue ball of light intensified and expanded. Cordelia brandished the sword. Dottie leered.

“Monsters not welcome here,” Dottie yelled, her voice growling, wrapping her nerves in armor.

Cordelia snarled too, her grip tightening on the hilt of the sword.

A spark of yellow, like the ember from a fire, flitted out from the rift and landed on Dottie’s boot. She reached down and brushed it off, jolting as her fingers brushed over the ember.

“You shouldn’t touch it,” Cordelia warned too late. She grabbed her friend by the shoulders and jerked her upright. “Are you okay? What happened?”

The glow from the rift cast a hellish hue over Dottie’s skin and her mouth hung slack-jawed as if she had entered the realm of phantoms.

Cordelia shook her. “You’re scaring me.”

As suddenly as the rift opened, it closed. Dottie blinked and laughed. “Well, that was quite the rush, my friend.”

“What happened?” Cordelia furrowed her brow.

“I have the same question for you.”

“Let’s get you home and rested.”

By the light of the endless sprinkle of stars overhead, they picked their way through the forest to their homes.

The next day, Cordelia toiled at washing the bedding, taking the sheets out of the kettle that had been sitting overnight, schlepping clean water from the lake, rinsing and rinsing again, scrubbing on the washboard, rinsing again, and she had just finished ringing out the sheets. She kept one eye on the position of the sun and swiped the sweat from her brow. When the sun started to lower, the Rifters would meet at the blacksmith’s and go over what had happened last night and how to adjust their guardianship of Settler and their world.

Taking a deep breath, she stood still for a moment, letting the cool breath from the far-off Cascades caress her heated face, asking her body for a second wind to get the washing hung on the line. Before she had finished her brief rest, she heard the pounding of feet on the dirt road passing by the house.

“Cordelia!” a frantic voice called.

She fluttered open her eyelids and squinted at Gregory Hessler racing her way. The heat of day didn’t stop the chill from entering her blood. Mr. Hessler didn’t run, didn’t’ become frantic. Without him saying a word, she knew something was wrong with Dottie.

Cordelia left the washing and dashed off to meet her neighbor. “What’s wrong?” she huffed when they were close enough to speak.

“Dottie. It’s Dottie.” He panted so hard he could barely speak. He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward his ranch with him. “You have to come. Please.” His cracking tone cracked Cordelia’s heart.

Before they reached the Hessler’s ranch, they ran into Dottie. She skipped toward them, twirling, and squealing in off-key notes. Her hair whipped wildly around her face, and her dress was on backwards.

Cordelia stumbled to a halt, feeling the blood drain from her face. “Get the others, Gregory.”

“What happened last night?” His eyes welled and demanded an answer from her.

She couldn’t look him in the eye or her best friend. “I don’t know.” She swiped a tear off her cheek. “I wish I had a better answer.”

“I do too.”

“I’ll stay with her. Get the others.”

Dottie’s eyes glowed with an eerie light and a purple aura haunted her as she laughed and twirled. Dottie blinked, and the aura and glow in the eyes faded. Her expression twisted. “What’s happening?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cordelia reassured her friend.

Gregory Hessler ran off faster than Cordelia could form an apology. She said it to Dottie instead. “I fear you’re not quite you, dearest friend. I’m so sorry I didn’t keep you safe.” Worse, what if whatever had happened to Dottie spread to the rest of the town?

Taking a risk, Cordelia took Dottie’s hand and led her back to the house. “I promise to do better. I promise my life and soul.”