Free The Nothing: A Book of the Between by Kerry Schafer

He wished he’d never come here, but then, he hadn’t had much choice. Vivian had dragged him out of his own comfortable life and into nightmare beyond his imagining. She blamed him for things done in dreams, for being that other man in Surmise, the Chancellor.
    A twist of longing for that alter ego surprised him. The Chancellor had power and privilege. He wore jewels and satin and took what he wanted. People feared him and treated him with respect. Now he, Jared, was going to appear in court as an impoverished mendicant. At least he had both legs, and for this, he owed Kraal.
    Still, gratitude was a long way from his thoughts as he dressed in the scratchy wool breeches and the rough handwoven shirt. The old woman looked him over and nodded, just as two things happened at once.
    Kraal’s shadow blocked out the light from the door, and the whole hut lit up as if the stone itself were filled with small suns. Shards of light pierced Jared’s eyes and he cried out, covering them with his hands, but there was no mercy, no relief.
    Somebody pried his hands away and put some dark glasses over his eyes, and then he could breathe, could look up without feeling he was about to die from an abundance of light. The old woman, too, wore dark lenses, but Kraal wasn’t even squinting.
    If he went outside— when he went outside, because Kraal was already towing him mercilessly in that direction—the crystal pillar would be unbearable.
    “We find it beautiful and marvelous, but I understand it is difficult for a human to tolerate the sun on stone, even with the glasses. Just close your eyes, and I will lead you.”
    Jared complied out of necessity, even as internally he churned with bitterness and shame that he must come into the presence of the Queen in this way. His leg, although functional and painless, was also nerveless and felt heavy and awkward, so that he limped no matter how hard he tried to maintain an even gait.
    Kraal had his hand, forcing him to reach up as though he were a very small child, a toddler, holding on to an adult’s hand to support and guide its wobbling steps. As they passed the Time Stone, even with his eyes closed and the dark glasses in place, the light burned through his eyeballs and into his brain with a cold, sharp fire that turned his stomach and made his knees go weak. For a minute, he thought he would further humiliate himself by vomiting all over the shabby clothes, but he managed to swallow it back and carry on.
    Little by little, the light faded from excruciating to bearable to uncomfortable and merely harsh. Color began to tint it, so it was no longer pure white but infused with blue, and Jared knew the sun was moving toward Fourth Hill. He was too out of breath to ask questions or express his fear, but just then, they came to a halt.
    Opening his eyes, he saw that they stood on a black slab of stone so highly polished, he could see his own reflection. And deep, deep in the stone, as though it were a lake, shone the twinkling light of stars. He felt dizzy and disoriented, as if he had fallen in and been left to drown, but the anchor of Kraal’s hand steadied him.
    Across the expanse of the marble sea stood a palace, the breadth and height of which were dizzying. It, too, was made of stone, not gemstones this time but a golden granite with flecks of something like mica that caught the afternoon light and reflected it back.
    Two female Giants stood before closed doors. They wore flowing gowns of purest white that did little to conceal perfectly sculpted breasts and hips. Long hair, red as flame, curled over their shoulders in shining tendrils.
    The Giantess on the right clasped a stone jar. The one on the left held a knife with a blade as long as Jared’s arm, honed to a razor sharpness but rusty and stained. As beautiful as were their bodies, perfect as any sculptor could hope to chisel from purest marble, their faces looked like the work of a child. Flat-featured, with only a crack for a mouth,