Violet Skies

Previously

…She picked up the obsidian device again, her thumb brushing over the gold threads. They were warm. So warm. And then, as if her touch completed a circuit, she felt it. A faint, rhythmic thrum, like a heartbeat, pulsing from the broken center of the Key. It was gentle at first, barely perceptible, but it grew stronger, matching the rhythm of her own pulse. Starla stared at the device in her hands. It wasn't dead. It was waiting. And somewhere deep inside her chest, an answer to a question she hadn't known how to ask began to form. She looked at Arthur Miller's note one more time. Don't look back. But she had already turned around.