Page 1 of Ecliptic

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“No wandering out tonight,” my mother said as she tucked me into bed. “We’d hate to lock you in your room again.”

“We mean it, Keira,” my father scolded beside her. “You upset your mother when you get out and come back a filthy mess, dirtying up the house.”

Last night, I’d accidentally left a trail of muddy footprints across the carpet. The stained impressions of my soles were a faint reminder of my disobedience.

“I’ll try, Daddy,” I said, not wanting to upset him. But no matter how hard I tried, I found myself walking the paths of an enchanting forest almost every night. Then, I would suddenly appear in my room, covered in mud, twigs, and scratches, not remembering how I managed any of it.

My mother shot my father a quick stare, but he remained stiff with his arms across his chest. “If you could just tell us how you’re doing it, honey. I promise we won’t be mad.”

“I told you,” I groaned, my little fists balling in frustration. “I close my eyes, and I fall through stars.”

“Keira!” my father shouted, making me flinch. “You are eightyears old now. Enough with the lies, or we will take away your telescope.”

“No! Please, Daddy,” I cried, leaping up from the bed. “I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

It was a promise I couldn’t keep, but I would say anything to keep my telescope. Most children had a stuffed toy or blanket, something soft to chase away the shadows. Some even had parents they could run to. Not me. I was scolded for leaving my room and giving in to my fears. Any disruptions led to more rules, stricter punishments, and longer sessions of questioning in my mother’s office.

All I had was my telescope.

Every night, I planted my gaze through the eyepiece, losing myself within the glittering map of space. The long black tube became my faithful companion while the velvet night enveloped me like a quilt.

“I think we’ll take it tonight, just in case,” my mother said, gathering the one thing I counted on. “If you’re good, we’ll return it to you in a week.”

My heart plummeted. There was no way I would last that long.

I rushed after my parents as they closed the door, ready to beg and plead, but when I turned the knob, it wouldn’t budge. Terror choked me as I realized they’d locked me in.

I pounded on the door, unable to hold back the tears as they spilled down my face.

It wasn’t until my palms were sore that I slumped down and curled up at the bottom of the door. My body turned heavy, then weightless, and I began to drift. I tried not to chase the lights that always found me—carried me. But the pull was too strong, and I soon found myself under the biggest disk of a moon I’d ever seen.

A comforting breeze swirled around me, drying my tearsinto salted crystals upon my cheeks. The gentle wind ushered me to my feet, and my toes sank into the plush ground beneath me.

I marveled at the massive lunar pendant above, its glow casting a silver enchantment over the forest. I found I preferred this sky over the one I saw out my window every night.

It wasn’t home. It was my sanctuary.

I surrendered to the forest that knew nothing of walls or locked doors and pushed my impending punishment far, far away. I hummed with the melody of the woods, skipped on pools of moonlight, and danced with the trees.

When my parents learned of this, who knew how long they’d keep me locked away. I might as well enjoy every second of this freedom while I had the chance.

Suddenly, a squawk echoed through the forest and stopped me in my tracks. My eyes darted through the branches, searching for the animal that seemed to call for help.

Labored chirps led me over and under moss-covered roots and through long-hanging vines until I came upon a bird shimmering like a comet.

I was unfamiliar with the creature, though it looked to be about the size of a peacock. Upright feathers flowed from its head like a twisting fern, and its tail cascaded in a long, glittering plume. The bird’s watery eyes pierced my soul as it chirped helplessly.

I rushed to the feathered ball of light, and my heart sank as I realized it was trapped in a net.

The poor thing had struggled to escape, further tangling its delicate wings and feet in a jumbled mess. It was afraid, shaking, and exhausted.

“It’s okay. Don’t be scared. I’m going to help you,” I said, carefully unbinding its legs. But I must have pulled a little too hard because the bird reared back and slashed its talonsthrough my white nightgown, causing blood to well on my shoulder.

I bit back the pain radiating down my arm. “I’m so sorry. Just a little more, and you’ll be free,” I coaxed, working to untangle the last bit of rope.

Shedding its confines, the animal unfurled its wings like a curtain of jewels, and my mouth hung open in awe.

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