4338.211 · July 30, 2018 AD
Calling for Maggie
She'd come for Maggie. Instead, Maggie came with her—coiled tight around her arm as gunshots cracked through the ceiling and Jarod shoved her through the Portal. One moment: basement chaos, shattered glass, the sharp tang of fear. The next: Clivilian darkness so thick it felt like drowning. Beatrix searched until her voice broke, but the python was gone—swallowed by sand and silence. The dark didn't answer. It only watched.
The plan had been simple: portal into the pet shop basement, pitch Jarod on the heist of a lifetime, and leave with nothing more dangerous than a scheming grin. Armoured Guard trucks. Cash by the bagful. No evidence, no witnesses, no trail. It was audacious. It was brilliant. It was exactly the kind of idea that made Jarod's eyes light up like a child handed matches.
But the Whispering Menagerie had other plans.
The ceiling erupted first—shouting, the crystalline shatter of aquarium glass, then gunshots that punched through the air like fists. Jarod moved before Beatrix could think, shoving her toward the Portal with Maggie still wrapped around her arm. He stayed behind. She didn't get a choice.
The landing was hard. The silence was harder.
Clivilius at night is not empty—it is watchful. The darkness pressed close, dense as wet cloth, swallowing her voice each time she called Maggie's name. The python had slipped free somewhere between worlds, lost to sand and shadow. Beatrix searched until her throat bled and her legs buckled.
She found nothing.
Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow I'll find her.
The dark made no promises.
