The fall felt both endless and instantaneous. Darkness surrounded me, and it went on forever, except for the glowing opening to the room I’d left.

  As the opening and the portal on the other side grew larger, I saw myself in the Rocket suit flying out of nowhere toward the portal. We were close enough to collide as I fell into the space, and I wondered if I’d screw all of it up.

  What if we both went through to wherever Govan sent me? Some new alternate universe, or maybe a time loop?

  But, I disappeared before I hit myself, saving the space-time continuum a little bit of paradox.

  Nearing the burning, golden circle of the portal a second time, I willed it to open and flew through, hearing Amy’s voice in the background.

  “What the f—“

  The circle closed before she finished her sentence, but I had a good guess as to what came next. I didn’t have time to explain anything, though, because I’d appeared in a new place.

  I found myself floating in space, but as much as the darkness I’d been in before felt like it extended forever, this felt small. It felt like a lobby. Part of the reason might have been that it wasn’t completely dark.

  It had one light, specifically a lamp post. Black and seemingly made of wrought iron, a flame flickered within the glass-and-iron enclosure at the top.

  We were only some snow, a forest, and a wardrobe away from being in Narnia. Well, that and maybe a faun.

  A faun stepped out from behind the lamp post.

  Approximately the height of the Rocket suit, she had black hair, pointed ears, the obligatory goat legs, and a brown and white fur-covered lower half. Unlike the fauns I’d seen in pictures, she wore a suit coat, white shirt, and black tie.

  The device had to have pulled this from my head, but I couldn’t recall ever imagining this precise combination of images. I’d have to ask Kee about her intentions when she programmed this spot if I ever got the chance.

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  If I ever wrote the story down, I’d also have to hope that C.S. Lewis’ literary heirs weren’t particularly litigious.

  In a language that I knew wasn’t English, even though I fully understood it, she said, “Welcome to the Galaxy Core Device, or, as I was referred to by my creator, welcome to Spark.”

  “Spark?” I looked her up and down, guessing that she wasn’t so much a person as a user interface. “That’s a lot less ominous than Galaxy Core Device.”

  “My creator enjoyed informality. She created me for others. They required a war machine, one not unlike the armor you wear. Her own purposes were different. This device is also empowered to assist in the creation and modification of life—galaxies, planets, and the beings that inhabit them. She preferred to create.”

  The faun, or perhaps “Spark,” paused to examine me. “You’re not only of the lineage of Nataw, but also descend from Lee, and my maker, Kee. This gives you a certain level of access to my features and capabilities. I also sense connections to the Ghosts and other entities they’re allied with. Destroy views them as enemies, and as such, I’m not supposed to trust such creatures at all. Kee did not share Destroy’s attitude on that issue. In any case, you register as a young Artificer, and so I’m allowed to give you aid.”

  “Great,” I said, “I’m looking for someone else who came through here a little bit ago. I call him Magnus. I don’t know what he calls himself.”

  She regarded me for a moment and then said, “There is another young Artificer within this place. He’s had access for several months, but recently reached a level of control over systems related to intrusion prevention and limited control over systems that allow energy distribution. No major systems are under his control, but he’s working to change that situation.”

  That did not sound good. I asked the next question that popped into my head, “How close is he?”

  “He is a biological lifeform and therefore unpredictable. From what I’ve seen of him, he lacks understanding of technological systems, but does have access to tools that my creator used that go around the systems set up to control user access.”

  “Knowing that he has illegitimate control of those systems, can’t you turn off his access?”

  She met my eyes, “I can turn off his access, but I’m a creature of systems. He’s not accessing my systems as himself. He’s accessing my systems as Kee, my creator, who has every right to control and change my systems.”

  This made a horrible sense, but I tried to argue with her anyway. “That’s true. She does, but you know that it’s not her. It’s him, using her tools to pretend to be her.”

  “As a thinking being, I accept that argument. As an aspect of the system, I don’t have the authority to remove access to that tool.”