Firespark by Julie Bertagna

in the world.
    â€œIt’s—um, it’s just something that happens in the northern sky,” she falters. “It’s a good sign, it means we’re close to the North.”
    And she remembers something else: the old Norse name for the lights.
    Skauf
.
    Fox fire.
    The lights were said to look like the brush of fiery foxtails in the sky. Mara gazes up at the fox fire with her heart in her mouth.
    â€œLook, Clayslaps.” Broomielaw holds her baby up to see. He wriggles with excitement, his fingers opening and closing like sea anemones, trying to catch a tail of light.
    Then he gives a wail. As suddenly as they appeared, the night sky closes its curtain and the lights are gone.
    Mara sits down on deck. She doesn’t know how close to midnight it is and she doesn’t care. The fox fire in the sky has lit a spark inside her. She needs to see
her
Fox. Shepulls out the cyberwizz globe, halo, and wand, powers it up, and falls, fast as the flash of a skauf …
    â€¦
into the heart of the Weave. The ether
crick-crackles
as she whizzes down the boulevards until she finds the broken bridge
.
    Fox
!
    Her cry rips through the static like a jag of lightning
.
    A cyberfox slinks along the bridge toward her. He’s here. The Weave lights glitter in the fox’s eyes. They shimmer in the smooth coat and the brush of its tail
.
    Can’t you be yourself? she murmurs. It’s the real, human Fox she needs, though she knows she can’t have that, not here in cyberspace. With Fox, Mara has always been a cybermirror of her real self
.
    The tremor in her voice sends a ripple through the ether. The fox blinks. Vanishes. Mara could bite out her tongue for giving him such a cold greeting. She’s been so worried he might never make it here at all. Her heart thuds as she stands alone on the empty arm of the broken bridge
.
    Here. Best I can do
.
    His voice. Husky, edgy, skin-prickling. She spins around and he’s there—an electronic version of Fox stands within arm’s reach. His tawny hair shimmers in the ether light, just as messy with static as his real tousled head, and the eyes that lock with hers are so unnervingly his own they send a hot lightning bolt down her spine. Mara steps forward to kiss him, reaches out to touch his face
—
    NO
!
    Sparks fly. Electrons sizzle. Cybercinders fall fizzling at their feet. There’s a scorch mark where she touched his cheek. And a rip in the ether between them
.
    We can talk, but not touch, says Fox
.
    Oh. Right, I forgot
.
    No way around it. He shrugs. Dumb old-world technology, this Weave
.
    He kicks the broken bridge and scuffs up a shower of electronic grit
.
    You’re safe? she asks. You got down to the netherworld all right
?
    He nods
.
    Candleriggs is here
.
    Mara lets out a long breath. Candleriggs will look after him. That’s something
.
    Where are you
?
    The top of the university tower, says Fox
.
    In her mind’s eye, Mara sees the vast gothic steeple that tops the tower and looks like a great black wizard hat floating on the dank netherworld sea
.
    You? he says
.
    Oh, me, says Mara. Somewhere in the middle of the ocean
.
    Her head droops
.
    We were stupid, she blurts out. This is too hard. You should’ve come with me
…
    Misery darkens his face and haunts his beautiful eyes. She can’t go on at him like this, she shouldn’t. It’s all too late anyway. She’s already an ocean away
.
    I know, he begins. He stops and sighs. Who said we had to save the world
?
    That was you, she reminds him, with a bleak grin
.
    It breaks the awkward distance between them
.
    He lets out a laugh
.
    Could have sworn it was you, he retorts
.
    Well, we’re not saving the world, says Mara, just the little bit we can
.
    That’s all, he agrees, catching her smile. We can do that
.
    His face drops again. I feel lost here, Mara. You have people. Here, it’s just me and Candleriggs. I can’t go back home. I feel