Reeling from her older sister’s sudden disappearance, Jane Aster crashes her life (and her car) into Atlas Clair— a lost prince trapped in the West Texas desert. To save Jane’s sister and send Atlas home, the unlikely pair must embrace what haunts them and dive into unfamiliar and dangerous worlds… before their prophetic nightmares become reality.

The day Anne Aster disappeared; her little sister was running late. 

     Jane’s fifteen-year–old sedan barreled down the highway, making a hard left turn onto a dirt road. Anne would have her ass. 

     She didn’t mean to be late. She never meant to be late. She’d simply gotten caught up in the academic brilliance that was her Political Science essay (she had scrolled on her phone for two hours) and lost track of time.  

     By the time she had pulled into the park’s driveway, Anne’s car was already there. 

     Where Jane kept her car as clean as she could, perpetually covered in a thin layer of West Texas dust, Anne had plastered hers in bumper stickers portraying d20s and ambivalent book quotes and micro-specific fandom inside jokes. Truthfully, Jane was shocked that Anne wasn’t covered in tattoos she’d be embarrassed of in five years. 

     Her sister was pacing back and forth in front of her car, occasionally making a small gesture, mouthing something under her breath. Ah, so she was practicing how she was going to scold Jane for being late. Excellent. She wore worn-out leggings, a t-shirt way too big for her, and tennis shoes scratched and scuffed around the edges. Her hair was too short to pull into a ponytail. 

     Jane parked her car and hopped into the dirt, grabbing her water bottle and sunglasses. In comparison to Anne, Jane was wearing a matching work-out set and carried a small backpack filled with protein bars. 

     “You’re late.”

     “Yeah, I know, how long did you have to wait?”

     “Like, ten minutes.” 

     “I’m sorry.” 

     “It’s fine,” she made a gesture like she was swatting Jane’s transgression out of the air. For a brief moment the image of her hand seemed to smudge in her vision. “Should we get moving? The sun will set in a few hours.” 

     “Never seen you so eager to hike before.” It was a Wednesday, and there weren’t any other cars parked in the lot. What if something were to happen to them? What if they needed help? “There doesn’t seem to be anyone else out.” 

      Anne nudged her sister’s shoulder. “Good, we can have the park all to ourselves.” 

      “Have you hiked this trail before?”

      “Once. With Mom.” 

      “I didn’t mean to bring the vibe down,” Anne panted after Jane was quiet for a while, her steps falling steadily slower than her sisters. 

      “No, it's fine. I just—”

      “What?” 

       I can feel a trap closing around me. I think you might force me into a sappy conversation I don’t want to have. I don’t understand why you’ve invited me to an activity you don’t like to do. One that reminds you of Mom.        “Nothing.”  

      They continued on with their hike in a strained relative silence. Words sat on the edge of Jane’s tongue, begging to be said. She kept her lips sealed for fear they would escape. 

      The trail was dusty and marked by little cacti, low-hanging trees, and a beating sunshine. It wasn’t particularly hot, but it was unseasonably warm for March. 

      “I wish we were in a forest,” the laboring voice behind Jane lamented. Anne had fallen behind and was drinking from Jane’s water bottle like she was lost in the desert. 

      “We are. Kind of.” 

       Anne scoffed. “This is typical Texas scenery. Cactus, rocks, cactus, rocks, more cactus and trees so short they barely cast any shade.” 

      “I like it.” 

      “I don’t. It’s boring. If we were in a forest I could pretend to be on a quest.” 

      Jane inwardly cringed. “You’re such a nerd.” 

      “At least I have interests that go beyond medical dramas.” 

      She rolled her eyes. These were the same plants and trails and roads and sky she had seen her whole life. There wasn’t really any other kind of view she would want to call hers– in spite of Anne’s complaining. 

      The trail began to open up, the rock beneath them suddenly breaking off into a long and steep hill, so dramatic it could almost be characterized as a cliff. Jane took a seat on the lid of the chasm, swinging her legs over the side and gesturing for Anne to sit beside her. 

      Stretching out before them was an ocean of dust. Flat land that reached out into the horizon, dotted by lazy hills. As if great creatures lay slumbering under the dirt and if you squinted in just the right way when the sun was fixed in its preferred spots, you could maybe catch them breathing.        Short and squatty twisting trees dotted the land. Grass sprouted sporadically. Rock jutted out from the earth as if longing for the sky. In the distance they could see a herd of deer padding their way across the beige grass. Cutting through it to the left was the interstate, tiny cars going well past the speed-limit zooming back and forth. 

      And the sun. The sun was hanging low. What still held it in the sky was a mystery, the weight of it pulling it down, sliding down the dome of the atmosphere like a raindrop on the window of a car. Soft pinks and blues stained the clouds- a warning that dusk was approaching soon. 

      “It is a good view,” 

      Jane hummed in agreement.

      Anne rested back on her hands. 

      The silence was growing between them, becoming heavier. 

      Blood on blue

      Jane drank deeply from her water bottle, taking so much it hurt to swallow. Let the weight of the water sit in her diaphragm and cleanse her mind.  

      She watched as Anne fiddled with her ring. A bright red garnet set into a golden band. Her older sister had stolen it from a mahogany casket on a hot summer day and worn it ever since. 

      In the golden light it almost looked like the tips of Anne’s fingers were bathed in a red glow. Like flesh through a flashlight. Was that blood beneath her nails? 

      “Why don’t you call?” Anne asked, breaking the spell that held Jane’s attention.

      “I- I just don’t have anything to say.” 

       Her sister snorted, “Your life is more interesting than mine.” 

      “My life is just college.” 

      “Yeah exactly. You have parties and football games and stuff. I just go to work and go home.” 

      “Is that why you don’t call me?” 

      “I do call you,” Anne shot. “You don’t answer.” 

      She bit her lip, thinking about the times she’d seen Anne’s name pop up and all the times she rejected her with a ‘can I call you later?’ text. Her sister had a talent for calling only when she was in class or with friends or at a party or asleep. 

      “It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you or that I don’t miss you. You just always call when I’m busy. I can call you more?” 

      “No, it’s fine,” Anne screwed up her face like a crumpled paper bag.“I get you’re busy. I was busy as hell when I was in school. I just wanted to make sure you’re not mad at me.” 

      “Why would I be mad at you?” 

       Anne shrugged, casting her eyes on the horizon. Her mouth pressed into a hard line. 

       There was another lapse. Another opportunity to say the words that Jane had imprisoned. Stupid and stubborn and embarrassing. She would not be that person again. 

       “Are you doing alright Janey?” 

        She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me that. But yeah? Why?” 

       “I don’t know. I’m just checking on you.” 

       “I’m fine.” 

       “Well, you know, make sure you have a DD and if you feel like throwing up stop drinking-"

       “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that I blacked out.” 

       “No, I mean it’s fine I just want you to be safe. It’s not like I didn’t drink in college. It’s just—” 

       “I know what you mean.” 

       “Just- with your major man, I don’t know. I picked something that’s not going to make me a lick of money. You're good at math so lean into that. Your career doesn’t have to be something you love, just something that gives you enough time off to pursue your hobbies and pays the bills.” 

       “But I don’t have any hobbies.”

       “You will. You just haven’t found your thing yet. And don’t let any stupid frat guys push you around; they all share three brain cells and aren’t worth a damn. And if I ever find out you're not using a condom I will personally kick your ass.” 

        Jane’s cheeks heated, “I do… I mean…” 

        “Don’t worry so much about what other people think,” Anne prattled on, saving her the embarrassment of trying to respond to her last sentence.          “Just do what you think is fun and brings you joy, if people don’t like it then you don’t need to be friends with them anyway. Do what you want to do, not what anyone else wants you to do.” 

        “Where is all this coming from?” 

         Only then did Anne look at her. There was a profound sadness in the stormy blue of her eyes. There was a year, when they were young, that Jane was afraid that sadness would never leave.

        “I just need to know that you’re going to be okay.”

         Later, when Jane thought back to that sentence, it was as if it were a hook in her heart and something was tugging on the line. She did not know it then, but when she was finally caught by that fisherman she would grow to hate every word. 

        “I’m fine. Really.” 

        “I love you. A lot.” 

        “I love you too,” Jane answered. After a pause that was a bit too long. 

         She smiled. Small. Jane smiled back. And they sat there. For a while. Watching the sun move. Watching the deer walk. Watching the breeze blow.