Lea Lexis stared up, her expensive watch now ticking backwards. Ella Nova clutched her analyzer, which was now singing a lullaby in a language she’d never heard. And Angel Allwood simply smiled, stepped forward, and plucked the fruit.
The last thing the security camera at Misty Hollow Substation recorded was three women standing beneath a glass tree—and then a flash of light so pure it erased the night. When dawn came, the tree was gone. The power was back. The crows flew in circles.
The rain over Misty Hollow was a persistent, weeping thing. Inside The Crooked Quill, the only café for thirty miles, three very different women sat at a corner table, the steam from their mugs fogging the window. Lea Lexis- Ella Nova- Angel Allwood
Lea snorted. “Roses? Crows? Angel, I love you, but we need hard facts.”
Angel opened her eyes. They were reflecting the phosphorescence now. “It’s not an object,” she said, her voice distant. “It’s a seed. It’s been waiting. And it’s about to root.” Lea Lexis stared up, her expensive watch now
“It’s matching,” Ella breathed. “The orbital pulse. It’s exactly the same as the ground frequency.”
“Don’t!” Lea shouted.
was the first to break the silence. She was a storm in human form—sharp, impatient, with lightning-bolt earrings and a watch that cost more than the café’s yearly rent. “Two weeks. Two weeks since the power grid went fractal, and the council still thinks it’s a blown transformer.” She tapped a fingernail against her tablet, which displayed nothing but static. “I’m not waiting for them. I’m going to the substation tonight.”