Mara froze.

Her mother turned and locked eyes with him.

"Jump," he prompted.

Diana, still holding the Chronicle, straightened and flung herself into the funnel of ash and bone. Her hand grazed the jaw of the skull.

A blinding blue light erupted.

The imploding bubble yanked Mara forward and swept everything inside it to its center beneath the arch of the bridge. Leaning against the vacuum rushing to fill the void, she stumbled as the road fell out from under her. The two still-smoldering arches on each side of the road separated from the span, spreading like wings as they cascaded into the river. The road peeled away from the infrastructure, revealing the water below. Folding in on itself, the center of the bridge crumpled, collapsed into a single point of light and exploded into shards of brilliant blue.

Then darkness and silence came.

CHAPTER 68.

MARA AWOKE AND saw stars.

Then some of them disappeared.

Something blotted them out of the predawn sky. Raising herself up, she squinted and made out a silhouette circling above.

The dragon.

It glided downward in a lazy spiral coming closer with each pa.s.s. Her heart sped up, not out of fear, but with the realization it wasn't a nightmare.

She glanced to the left. The arch, the center of the bridge, was gone. The rising roadway ended in a cliff just before the water's edge.

A chill ran up her arms when she placed her hands on the ground, realizing she was on top of a corrugated aluminum roof off to the side where the bridge had been. Unsure of her sore limbs, she stood, trying to get her bearings. She kicked something that clanked loudly as it skidded on the metallic roof. She bent down and picked up the Chronicle.

"Like a bad-luck penny," she said to herself, tucking it into her pocket.

She felt a breeze waft down from above. The dragon descended closer, now just forty feet away. Since it wasn't diving at her or blowing fire, she didn't think it was attacking. Still, it was a dragon. It would be a good idea to get on the ground, just in case. Leaning over the edge of the roof, she saw no quick-and safe-way down.

The sky was getting lighter. She could see some of the scaly detail of the creature sailing above as it held its wings open and lazily swished its ma.s.sive tail back and forth. After another moment, it tensed and reared back its head. The wings flicked, the dragon hovered in one spot like a giant hummingbird. It tensed again, waved its head skyward, screeched loudly enough to shake the aluminum Mara stood on and exploded into a cloud of dust.

Mara raised her hands over her head antic.i.p.ating dragon fallout.

There was none.

The cloud of dust floated still for a moment, then gathered, instead of dissipating with the wind. Particles swirled and flowed downward toward Mara. It hovered over the corrugated roof, swirling faster, becoming denser, spinning like a mote of dust. It began to take form, the form of a man. It grew solid, and its features grew familiar.

"Ping!" Mara ran across the roof and hugged him. "I can't believe it's you."

"I'm somewhat amazed myself," Ping said.

"What happened? Where did the dragon go?"

Ping patted his chest with both hands. "He's in here."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not sure I completely understand myself. It appears the dragon and I now share this body. Two consciousnesses in one body."

"One body that can take the shape of a man or a dragon?"

"Something like that. During your battle with the dragon, his remains and mine fused. Remember Sam's pixel a.n.a.logy? This realm is just pixels, an interface to actual consciousness? The Dragon and I have separate consciousnesses, but we now share pixels in this realm."

"Did I do this to you?"

"Obviously your abilities played a role in the fusion during the battle, but it would be overly simplistic to say you did it. My own physiology came into play as well."

"Oh, Ping, I am so sorry. Let's see if I can undo-"

"No, no. We don't fully understand the consequences of trying to undo this. We could make things worse."

"You can't live with a dragon inside you."

"I believe I can. We've come to an accommodation that I think will work. I get this body for the balance of my natural life, and then he gets to have it. Dragons, you see, live for hundreds of years. For the few decades I have left, he's agreed to basically take a nap. I don't bother him. He doesn't bother me."

"So when you die, you turn into a dragon?"

"My body will. That's the deal."

"I don't think bequeathing a dragon to the world will be much of a legacy. You can't just check out and let your pixels loose to ravage the countryside."

"We don't have to figure this out now. We've got time to consider what to do," he said.

"So that was you, when I fell from the bridge."

He nodded.

"Might be handy to have a dragon around."

"Don't count on it. I'm not waking him up. Let's get down from here and go."

"First we have to find Mom and Sam," she said.

Ping turned somber. "Mara, I'm certain they are not here. I saw the bubble collapse from up there." He pointed to the sky above the bridge. "Everything-and everyone-inside the bubble was swept away and disappeared. They are gone, I'm afraid."

"No, I saw her. Mom was herself again. Sam was alive. I am not going anywhere without them." She fixed her eyes on the ruins of the bridge hanging out over the river. "You said I could shape reality. What good is that if I can't help them?"

"You need to consider the repercussions of what you do and how it may affect things. If you alter this realm-"

"I know, consequences. Ping, this realm has already been altered. There are still dozens of people from the flight, from other realms, running around out there. Who's to say what I'm doing isn't supposed to fix things? And isn't it just as likely that doing nothing will have as many consequences as doing something?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Come on. There is a big truck over here. We can jump down on its hood and get to the ground without breaking a leg. We need to get up to the bridge before it gets too light out. I'm surprised this place isn't already swarming with cops."

Mara climbed up a sloping alley that paralleled the base of the bridge and rose to Main Street, ending at a pile of rubble, one of the shattered obelisks that marked the span's on-ramp. Ping trailed a couple steps behind. She turned to walk up the fractured ramp toward the river. He grabbed her arm.

"Please tell me what you are about to do." He looked around, worried the destruction had drawn attention. Thanks to the lingering smog of moisture, smoke and dust, downtown Oregon City remained shrouded in darkness despite the first rays of dawn overhead. Streetlights were still out, and no lights shone from buildings.

"There is no time to discuss it," Mara said. "Just watch and wish me luck."

She turned away from him before he could respond. She faced the rubble of the bridge's approach, bowed her head and closed her eyes. She thought back, remembered the collapse of the Chronicle's bubble. Played it back in reverse in her mind, willed it to unimplode, envisioned it unsweeping everything away.

The ground rumbled, rending steel screamed while rock and sand ground against each other. Mara felt grit blow across her face.

"Mara, what are you doing?" Ping asked.

"The element of Time," she said softly, keeping her eyes closed, concentrating.

"Oh, my-"

Dust swept over him as the shattered bridge reconstructed itself in front of him. He ducked and sidestepped as fragments slid along the ground and took to the air, stacking and interconnecting like a jigsaw puzzle. Cracks healed themselves as masonry and cement fused once more. The obelisk next to him and its twin across the road stood up so quickly they appeared to be straightening from a bow.

"What about the element of Time? Tell me," he said.

"Rolling it back." Her eyebrows knitted.

Over the river, large slabs of cement and asphalt jumped out of the water into the air, joining and reconnecting the banks of Oregon City to those of West Linn. The arches swung out of the river, rising like wings preparing to take flight.

The obelisks began to glow and thrum.

"Mara, you have to stop. You're beginning to flicker."

"No. I want them back."

"The woman you bring back will not be your mother." He stepped in front of her, grabbed her arms. "You have to consider the consequences. You cannot let her loose in this realm, even if we lose your mother and Sam."

Keeping her eyes closed, Mara shook her head. Ping's grip on her arms now pa.s.sed through her.

"Mara, stop this. You are fading away, I can see through you. Please stop."

Light spread across the roadway. Ping turned to find its source. His eyes widened, and he said, "Mara, look at the obelisk, its glowing. It's her talisman, her power. You are letting that loose again. You have to stop."

She placed her hands on the sides of her head; strain creased her features.

The translucent blue bubble exploded from the arch, engulfed the center of the bridge. Ping gasped, then turned back to Mara.

She was gone.

"Mara, you cannot leave it like this!" Ping swirled around, his arms held out to his sides, talking into the sky. "You are condemning your mother to the same fate as me, to a life trapped in a body with another consciousness that doesn't belong. You have to come back and stop this. For her and for all of us."

A faint figure coalesced in front of him. "No," Mara said.

"This is wrong, and you know it."

Her shoulders sagged. Her head dropped to her chest.

The bubble collapsed.

The bridge did not.

The obelisks faded to cold stone.

Now more opaque, Mara opened her eyes, tried to blink away tears. "I don't think I can live like this, without my mother, knowing I could have done something to help her."

Ping put an arm around her. "You did help her. Remember Mrs. Sandoval? She let her husband go for his sake even though she would never see him again. We have to do the same. If not-"

"We would have to live with the consequences, I know."

They stood in silence for several minutes not wanting to stay, but unwilling to admit it was time to go.

"Why don't I take you home to get some rest?" Ping asked, brushing singed hair from her face. "You're exhausted and freezing."

He eased her around, guided her to the sidewalk on Main.

"Mara!" The yell came from over their shoulders. They turned to the road rising to the darkened arch at the center of the bridge.

Sam hobbled out of the shadows of the arch into the morning twilight, waving an arm, clumsily jogging and limping, trying to catch up to them. Though dried blood caked the side of his face and soot covered the rest of his body, he smiled.

"Sam!"

He stopped short in the middle of the road, his smile fell away. His posture stiffened. He turned back to the arch.

Diana jogged out of the darkness, directly at him, holding her arms wide. He cringed as she caught up, placed her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm's length, beaming. He stared back wide-eyed, noticed the missing serpent tattoo and tears streaming down her face. She pulled him to her. A moment later, he raised his arms and returned the embrace.

Mara and Ping stood at the end of the bridge, watching. She wiped a tear from her eye and leaned against him.

"It's remarkable your mother recognizes him," Ping said.

"Of course, she recognizes him," Mara said. "He's my brother."

Author's Note.