Page 113 of Adonis

The sky was cloudless and white, except…

Connor lifted himself to sitting, staring wide-eyed, uncomprehending, at what lay before him. For a moment, he thought he was looking at a screen or a painting. A projection? Something to explain why the sky had a rip going through it as wide as the horizon, or explain why the sky through that tear was dusk, while here it was broad daylight. Connor stared at the edges of the tear. They moved and shifted like waves.

Adonis had them going right toward it. Across the ocean, several other vessels travelled toward the tear. These were sailboats and thrown-together rafts filled with large figures and small ones—and most didn’t look human.

Connor’s heart raced. Not in fear or anxiety but in bewilderment and wonder.

“This is—” Connor swallowed. “You come from a different—what? World? Dimension?” He twisted around to Adonis. His legs had transformed into his large tail.

“I do not know the word for it.” Adonis shrugged.

“How…” Connor looked at the tear once more. “How do people not know about this? I mean—this has to be visible from space—look at the size of it!”

“It was smaller,” Adonis told him.

They slowed, and Connor twisted to look at Adonis again. Adonis let go of the raft to lift both hands out of the water; his fingers joined to form a small circle. “This size? I pushed it open to go through and explore.”

“You pushed it from the size of a plate to this?”

“No.” Adonis shook his head. “Only enough so I could fit through. When I brought you through it…” His gaze darted to the colossal tear. “Ripped open.” He then shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Fuck.” Connor had no other words for it. He stayed upright and alert. The tear was further than he’d thought, and as they got closer, the magnitude of it was staggering. Connor tilted back his head, trying to spot where the sky changed. It was impossible to set his eyes on a hard border. There was no defined edge. One moment he was looking through to a contained dusk sky, and the next moment it was the daylight that was boxed in. Connor sat backwards to watch the tear as it got further and further into the distance.

When it was a mere blip on the horizon, he looked down at Adonis. “You have nothing to say about that?”

“It is easier to bring you through now that it is above the waterline,” Adonis said.

Connor snorted. “God, Adonis, you’re so… hang on. Oh, fuck me.”

Adonis paused, eyes darting to Connor. “You are too injured.”

Connor splashed the water near Adonis’s face. Ornot Adonis’sface. “I don’t mean literally. I never asked your name. Jesus, how could I call you my boyfriend and not even ask your name?”

“Adonis,” Adonis said.

“No, that’s what I called you. What’s your name?”

“Adonis.”

Connor blinked, staring down at Adonis’s pleased grin. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I told you. Twice.”

“You’re such a smart ass,” Connor said. But god, he loved the attitude.

The horizon gave way to land, and as they got closer, Connor recognised the shorelines. His wonder gave way to anxiety as they neared home. As they approached the last bend to the house, Connor gestured for Adonis to slow down.

“Wait,” he asked. The board was a shining white, a very eye-catching colour.

Adonis slowed to a stop.

“Let’s leave the board here, on those rocks and swim in,” Connor said. “I’d rather not announce my presence… just in case.”

Connor slipped into the water, his muscles groaning in protest after only a few seconds of effort to keep his head above water. Adonis rushed to him, and Connor wrapped his arms over his shoulders in relief.

Adonis brought them to the dock. Dawn had given way to early daylight, and Connor guessed it was around six in the morning. He kept his eyes peeled as they approached, scanning the water line, the bushes, and the path. He couldn’t see anyone in his bedroom window, the only one visible from the sea.

“Can you sense anyone?” Connor whispered to Adonis.