Gravity Rises (S1)

VV: Part Five

Art by Sorophora

"Stop the car," Pacifica demanded.

The driver looked at her quizzically. "Well?" said Pacifica. "Stop the car! Before we get into town."

The driver sighed, checked to make sure there were no other cars around (even though Pacifica hadn't seen another car for miles), and applied the brakes. The truck — a horribly dirty vehicle — rumbled to a stop, and the driver got out. Pacifica waited primly in the passenger's seat of the truck as the driver walked around and pulled her door open.

"Her royal highness," the driver said dully, "Pacifica Pleasure." With a dramatic sweep of her arm, she sarcastically welcomed Pacifica out of the truck.

"Why, thank you," Pacifica said, ignoring the sarcasm. She carefully jumped down onto the snowy road — the golden triangles on her skirt jangled with the motion — before heading purposefully to the nearby sign.

As she passed, the driver muttered, "Eleanor owes me big time for this."

Pacifica gave a little huff at this. Eleanor — Pacifica's grandmother, with whom she'd been living for the past year — owed this woman nothing. She volunteered, after all, to drive Pacifica from Portland to Gravity Rises. The way Pacifica saw it, it was a privilege for her to chauffeur Pacifica across the state. Yet the woman (whose name Pacifica hadn't bothered to learn) didn't seem to realize her fortune.

Well, nothing to do about the driver's terrible attitude. It didn't matter now, anyway, for they were finally here.

Pacifica looked up to the sign in front of her: "Welcome to Gravity Rises," it said. A wide smile spread across Pacifica's face. The smile wasn't for the snow, nor the tiny town, nor the idiotic people she'd have to deal with here. No, there were a lot of things that she didn't miss about this place; she greatly preferred Portland, except for one thing: a purple stone, which currently rested in her hands.

Pacifica rubbed her fingers eagerly over the stone. "Are you ready, my precious amulet?" she asked it. "Will you glow for Pacifica?"

The amulet did not respond, but Pacifica thought she could feel it vibrating in anticipation. Or, perhaps her hands were shaking — but Pacifica's hands never shook. It must be the amulet, as excited to work its magic as Pacifica was to yield it.

"It's time," she said.

One year. It'd been a year since she'd left Gravity Rises: a year since her magical amulet had stopped working. She could still feel her connection to it — the connection she had formed four years ago — but she couldn't activate its magic. It only worked inside Gravity Rises, she had surmised, and its surrounding forest. Thus, despite the wonderful year she had spent in Portland with her grandmother, Pacifica couldn't wait to return to her hometown.

She couldn't wait to return to her power.

All she had to do, as far as she knew, was step beyond the sign. Then her power would come rushing back. Of course, she wasn't entirely certain of this — but surely she was right. Surely she was only a few steps away from her power.

With a determined breath, she passed the sign.

Nothing happened at first. A distant pang of fear tried to enter Pacifica's heart, but she squelched it. She stared intently at her amulet, cradled it in her hands, caressed it with her fingers.

She closed her eyes. "Glow," she whispered to the amulet.

Her eyes opened, then went wide. She squealed at the top of her lungs and clutched the amulet in her fingers. Excited, relieved peals of laughter rang out from her throat.