Free Portia by Christina Bauer

before?”
    “Not that I remember.”
    All of a sudden, my dream-self sits bolt upright in bed. She clutches her elbows as her shoulders tremble.
    “Who’s there?” she asks.
    “It’s just me,” I say. “Portia. You’re asleep.”
    Bit by bit, my dream-self turns toward me. When I see her, alarm rattles up my spine. Her eyes are a gooey shade of black. Dark tears ooze down her trembling face. I know that transformation. Every cell in my body goes on alert. Now, I know what’s happening in this nightmare.
    I’m turning into the Void. My limbs shudder with fear.
    My dream-self reaches forward blindly. “Whoever you are, I can’t see you. What’s happening?” She reaches forward, her fingertips groping the empty air. The nails slowly darken with ooze. As my dream-self moans in horror, her body mutates into more blackened sludge. She tries to pull herself out of the bed, but her gooey legs won’t carry her weight. Instead, she tumbles onto the floor, weeping in terror.
    I rush to kneel by her side. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s only a dream.” I pat her quickly blackening hair. My fingertips come away covered in foul ooze. “I won’t let this happen to you.”
    In reply, my dream-self curls onto her side and wails. “I’m doomed to turn into a demon. There’s no avoiding that fate when you’re Marked.”
    My eyes sting with tears as my voice grows louder. “I’m fighting this. We’re fighting this. You’re not turning into the Void. None of this is real.”
    But even as the words leave my lips, I know that it’s all a lie. There’s no guarantee I can save the after-realms, let alone myself.
    Before me, my dream-self gasps for breath. Her lips and teeth blacken as air gurgles thickly in her chest. I stare into her dark eyes as her body splatters into the floor and disappears like a raindrop striking the pavement.
    It happened. Maybe it was only a dream; it took place all the same. I saw myself transform into a Void demon.
    Sitting back, I stare at my hands. Dark ooze is still there, slowly seeping into my skin. Maybe it’s always been part of me. One day, it will fully claim my soul and I’ll become a nameless, mindless demon gnawing on the Firmament; that is, if there’s any left to consume. I’ll never get out of this alive. Who am I to think I can help the after-realms when I can’t save myself?
    Tempest kneels beside me. He tentatively extends his hand toward me. I know he what he wants, and part of me wants to hold his hand, too.
    The ache in my chest intensifies, but this is all too much, too soon. Besides, I don’t even know why he cares about me or this quest. I give him the barest shake of my head.
    No, don’t come any nearer.
    Tempest nods and lowers his hands. His demeanor mixes patience with concern. “You all right, luv? Talk to me.”
    When I speak, my voice cracks with despair. “Many people get Marked, and none of them get free. Even if I save the after-realms, chances are, I’ll still change into a demon. Why am I bothering to fight this?”
    Tempest leans in closer. “Listen to me carefully,” he says. “The world is filled with people who tell you things are impossible and to give up. But that’s only because they’ve already given up on themselves. Now, I don’t know what the future holds. I do know that you’re brilliant, Portia.”
    Our gazes lock. Somehow, his mouth moved until it’s only inches away from mine. I want to run my fingers along the square line of his jaw, run my palm across the scruff of his cheek. I want to touch his bare skin. A sense of excitement fills the air. Something else is there as well. There’s that same patience that I first felt when meeting Tempest on the balcony. He’s waiting for me to make the first move.
    Maybe I will. Chances are, I’m just acting crazy by trying to stop whatever it is that’s happening between us.
    I start to move my hand forward when a loud wail echoes through the walls of my dream-penthouse. At