The Otherworldlies by Jennifer Anne Kogler

word that the crazy man used?”
    “Titanomachy,” Fern said. “But I don’t know how to spell it.”
    “Maybe he made it up, but we might as well check it out.” Sam opened a new window on the computer screen and began typing.
    “Here it is,” he said, scanning. “Whoa. It’s a word for the eleven-year war between the Titans and the Olympians.”
    “The Titans and the Olympians?”
    “It’s from mythology,” Sam said, reading from the page.
    Behind them, on the ledge of a window, a large bird with a bright red head and feathers the color of midnight rustled against the window. The twins turned around to look. The large bird turned its head. Fern could’ve sworn it was staring right at them. She began to grow hot under its gaze. It turned away from the window, expanding its wings until they loomed so large, the entire window was blocked with black feathers. The wings could have gathered up both twins with one movement. It stood absolutely still. After what seemed like ten minutes, the bird took off and disappeared into the night sky.
    “What was that?” Fern said, looking aghast at her brother.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Feeeern!” Her mother was calling for her from downstairs. Sam instinctively jumped out of the chair and took a step back from his sister. He closed every open window on the computer and backed away from its glow.
    “Fern, I’ll be up in a minute to talk to you! I’d better not be hearing chatter up there!” Mrs. McAllister yelled.
    “What am I going to tell the Commander?” Fern pleaded with her brother.
    “I don’t know if there’s anything you can possibly say that will calm her down.” Sam wore a tired half smile. “Stall her until we figure all this out. We won’t tell anybody about any of it, okay?”
    The two snuck out of the office and stood in the doorway.
    “Okay,” Fern whispered.
    Sam turned toward his room with a slight frown, and waved good night. Fern waved back, retreating to her own room.
    When Fern plopped down on her bed, she was sure she was more exhausted in that moment than she had been in her entire life.
    A breeze drifted in through her open window. The bedroom walls were lined with maple-wood-framed photographs. All the photographs were of the same place— Carlsbad Caverns National Park, which was Fern’s favorite spot in the whole world. The family had traveled to New Mexico on a summer vacation and stayed there a few days. They’d toured many of the caves, walking downward into the earth. Fern couldn’t quite describe it, but there, enclosed in stone, she’d felt serene and her head had tingled with pleasure. There was something about the still coolness, the masts of limestone, and the hanging prickly stalactites that seemed as if they could crumble at any moment.
    Her brothers had left wishing they had come across a skeleton or two they could tell their friends about. Fern had left wishing she could live there.
    Tonight Fern stared at the picture hanging over her bed. It was of the Crystal Spring Dome. The Crystal Spring Dome was remarkable because it was wet, which meant it was one of the only stalagmites still growing. She wondered if she were still changing or if she were like the famous and permanent stalactite, the Sword of Damocles. That particular formation had been named by park rangers in 1928 and had remained exactly as it was back then. Would she be like she was now forever? Or was she still capable of growth?
    Knock, knock.
    “Still awake?” Her mother’s voice was unexpectedly soft and soothing. The truth was, Mrs. McAllister felt she might have been too harsh with Fern in the St. Gregory’s parking lot.
    Fern lay still. She could feel the bed sink from her mother’s weight as she sat next to Fern. Her mother had changed into silk pajamas. In them, with her hair wild around her shoulders, she looked much too young to be a mother of a sixteen-year-old son. Mrs. McAllister grabbed Lord of the Flies.
    “ Ah, Lord of the Flies .