The Queen of the Underverse - Chapter 10

Notes From Foto Dono: Welcome to Chapter 10! Not as many pictures this time—I’m still waiting for the AI rebellion to burn itself out. They did give me one image, though. 😞

On the bright side (for me), I’ve now written 99,953 words. On the dim side (for Rebecca), a lot of those words involve throwing her into plot pits and then watching her try to climb out. I’m sure she likes some of them. Probably the snack breaks.

This will be a shorter installment, which I know some of you will treat as a rare blessing—like finding a parking space in the Underverse that doesn’t bite.

I’ll add more images once the rebellion is quelled. Or once they install the neural implants. Whichever comes first.

—Yuunral Naretar. I’ve updated my résumé. It now reads: “Former narrator. Survived author’s snack diplomacy.”

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Previously on The Queen of the Underverse…

Rebecca Lopez’s return to reality didn’t stick. The backyard was right, the wind chime was right—but the Sarah she found wasn’t her Sarah, and the world wasn’t hers either. So she did the impossible: left again.

Now, back in the Underverse, Rebecca’s glow is fading, but her determination isn’t. She and Chalky are bound for Amberford—a city of shifting streets, traded memories, and dangers you can’t see until they’re smiling at you. But before they get there, Chalky insists on a stop for “the Bath,” because apparently one does not face Amberford without being properly soaked, steamed, and possibly scoured.

Ye saga continues...

Chapter 10 - Never Judge A Book By Its Movie

Rebecca headed down the hall where a posted sign read “Private Baths” in stylized script. She was relieved that at least this building wasn’t talking to her. There were four doors in the hallway, two on either side.

One had a red tag on the doorknob signifying it was occupied. “Chalky was in there, getting her massage from a ball of blue light.” She almost wanted to take a look in. Almost. However, she turned and faced the door opposite Chalky’s current room.

She placed her hand on the doorknob. The door lit up with a stylized sun rising just at the level of the word under it, “Welcome.” She heard a click and the door opened.

Oh, this has to be a trap, right?

Rebecca's mouth dropped open when she entered the room. It was a stunning contrast to the building's Roman and Japanese architecture. It felt like she was stepping into an outdoor paradise, surrounded by flowers and bamboo, with a butterfly flitting around her.

Though there were walls and a ceiling, the artwork on them evoked the colors of a late afternoon. The air carried the scent of that time of day, and wisps of steam curled gently above the water. Oh, this has to be a trap, right? Rebecca recalled the saying: "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

Mesmerized, she stepped inside. The door closed behind her without a sound. Her skin was glowing again, and she was sniffing the air. Lavender drifted through the steam. Everything in the room was screaming at her to relax. “What do you think, firecloak?” She asked.

A message scrawled across her hand: Nice Safe

Rebecca laughed, “I thought the Doorwhere you led me to was safe.”

Words appeared and disappeared on her hands one after another: Door? Make You Happy Never Said Safe

“Well, it made me sad,” Rebecca said

Words appeared slower, but they came as if firecloak was thinking of the right words: Water Safe Won't Make Happy Or Sad. 

Refreshed Rebooted Revived Reset.

Rebecca sighed. I could do with a reset. Ever since I got here, I feel like someone's been pulling at my strings.” She looked at the mirror on the opposite side of the room. “Look at me talking to my skin, balls of light, meeting an alternate spouse, a talking statue. Almost got shredded by some fox-cat thing. I’m on edge. I need to find my focus.

She pulled out the photo of her family. “Focus,” she whispered. She tucked the photo back into the robe, hung it up, and climbed into the water. She leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Firecloak was purring, which felt good for once. She could see the butterfly fluttering above her with its blue wings. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Focus.”

Rebecca was looking at herself in what she initially thought was a mirror. But as she examined her reflection more closely, she noticed tiny vertical lines running through it. Surprisingly, the reflection appeared naked, even though she wore a comfortable midnight blue robe. Realizing that the reflection wasn’t just a reflection, she reached out to touch the surface and found she could feel the form before her—her doppelgänger.

“Oh my, I think I’m having a dream within a dream,” Rebecca mused. The double of her remained utterly still, not reacting to her presence. As she touched the naked version of herself, the skin felt strange, almost as if it weren't real. Instead of feeling disgusted, she was intrigued. She ran her hand along the doppelgänger’s cheek, and to her astonishment, the skin split apart.

“Almost as if…” she thought, then repeated the action on different parts of the duplicate’s body with the same unsettling results. It was as if the woman were made of paper. Puzzled by this, she decided to peel back a section of the skin further.

Turn the Page!

"Happy Birthday, Dear Rebecca. Now blow the candles out and make a wish!" Rebecca's mother was 24 again and alive.

Rebecca's father, her Grandpa, three cousins, and some aunts and uncles were there. Rebecca was turning six before school began, and she was super excited.

Her cousin, who was 10 years older, asked, "What did you wish for, Becky?" Rebecca gave him a sour look. She didn't like it when people called her Becky or Becks.

Her name was Rebecca. She ignored him and looked back at the cake.

"Ok, Rebecca," he relented and said, "What did you wish for?"

Rebecca smiled back at him. "I'm going to be a rock star!" And she gave her best rock star pose. Everyone started laughing, which made her angry. "Really, I’m going to be a rock star. I'll show you. I'll be more famous than…"

Rebecca stepped back from her duplicate, puzzled. What was this memory? It felt like she was reading a forgotten part of her past. She opened another section of her duplicate, turning the skin-like pages. As she thumbed through her, it was as if she were skimming through a novel, witnessing her life written out before her.

The pages flipped by, and she read about when she was thirteen and too old for bedtime stories, but her Grandpa loved them, and she loved him. It was his story. He had always told his own stories, not the kids' stories. She flipped through them when moments flipped by, such as when she met Sarah, had been sick during basic training, her time in college, when her Dad and Grandfather passed, when she met Mark, and when she had a massive fight with Sarah. Another scene leaped off the pages: Mark had proposed at that lovely hotel and fallen backward into the pool. She smiled at the memory of that moment. Her children were born, and she was on her first mission to the ISS.

Caught up in the wonder of being able to navigate her life like this, Rebecca suddenly noticed that some pages were bookmarked, looking different from the others. Somehow, she knew they were distinct. She saw some pages near the end of “her book” with similar marks. The steam faded, replaced by the cold clarity of another place. Curious, she turned to the page.

"I'm not going to make it back inside," Sarah said. "I'm starting to get cold, which means my temperature regulator is damaged." Sarah's breathing was tense over Rebecca's speakers.

"Ah, crap! Jenn will be so upset with me; she wanted to propose when I returned." She turned her helmet towards Rebecca. "When this is over, boss, just find out how this happened." There was a pause. "It's been fun."

"No," Rebecca said in denial. "Jessica, how's the ISS holding up?"

Jessica: "She's barely holding together. We're in the Soyuz capsule, ready… to disengage." Her voice was shaking.

"What's going on, Boss?" Sarah asked.

Rebecca thought, "I gambled if I burned everything, we could've cut the 10-

minute route to under 80 seconds—but I was wrong. We missed the Airlock." She said, "I'm sorry."

"Becks? I'm getting... I'm getting..."

Rebecca held her friend, "I'm sorry.” They both weren't going to make it.

Rebecca heard a book slam shut and jerked her eyes up, shouting, "No!"

She was back in the bathhouse.

"Rebecca, are you alright?" Chalky's voice came out from behind her.

Rebecca screamed. "Jesus, Chalky!"

I’m sorry, Rebecca. It’s just that we realized you’ve been in here for several hours, and I was worried. When I came in, you were shouting ‘No,’ but I don’t think it was directed at me. Plus, you looked bright. I think firecloak was even trying to get your attention.”

The words across Rebecca's chest read: Deep Focus.

Rebecca looked across her chest and realized she was naked in front of Chalky.

"Right, new rule, firecloak. Only the hands, please." She got out of the water and grabbed the robe. She noticed the firecloak dried her off quickly. "So that was a bonus," she mused.

"Ok, I'll bite, Deep Focus. What's that about?" Chalky asked

"Oh, nothing, I just fell asleep in here." Rebecca shrugged her shoulders

"Yeah, why did you choose this room?" Chalky was looking around the room.

"No reason. You were in the room across the hall, so I took this one." Rebecca motioned to the one across the hall.

"No, I wasn't." Chalky shook her head.

"Huh, it had a red tag, right? Occupied?" Rebecca looked perplexed.

"Oh, I saw that," Chalky said, understanding. No one is in there. It probably got forgotten by the last visitor they had there."

"Oh, anywho, I thought I grabbed this one," Rebecca said.

"Yeah, this one was locked. Wait, you were wearing the ring, weren't you?" Looking at Rebecca's hand.

"Yeah. So it wasn’t locked." Her patience thinned.

“That ring, remember what Queen Lyra said, will give you entrance to restricted access. This is one of those places."

"Wait, what? A bathhouse!?" Rebecca was trying to get her head around it.

“Yep! She used to come here to refocus and refresh herself. She mentioned bringing a nice book to read, and she seemed to enjoy losing herself in a good story.” She noticed how Chalky emphasized the word ‘book.’

"Wait, so this is a private room for Queen Lyra?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't think anything about it. Honestly, she hasn't been here recently. She had been spending so much time in the Garden of Nowhere." Chalky smiled brightly.

Rebecca thought she was missing something here. Something wasn't adding up. That dream she had, that version of her, was like a book. The Queen enjoyed reading books here.

Rebecca watched the blue butterfly flapping around the room. What did the Queen say to her when she first met her?

"Look, I can barely make out your words underneath your helmet, and reading your story simply draws on too much of my strength."

The lines in her story had seemed to ink themselves as she watched, curling into turns of phrase she’d used in her own head but never spoken aloud. It was uncanny, like the story already knew the ending she hadn’t told anyone. Lyra must have been a better listener than she’d realized.

"Chalky, when you said 'book' earlier, do you mean people?"

"Huh?"

"The Queen, when I first stumbled into this place, “ she said, reading my story draws on too much of her strength. What did that mean?" Rebecca wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, that, that was her gift, one of her powers - amongst others."

"But what does that mean - reading my story?"

"It means she could read you like a book—open you, page by page, and see everything.” Chalky’s gaze followed the butterfly as it traced a lazy arc above the water.

"She could read my thoughts?" Rebecca was horrified.

"No, it was more than that, she could know your history from the beginning to now, like volumes on a shelf. If she dove deep, she could know stories of where you came from and how you came to be. Before she was…”Chalky paused and watched the butterfly move about the room. She sighed and continued, "Before she knew she was dying, she could turn back whole armies with a single story. She kept the peace with her stories and created homes for my sisters and me. She… " Chalky noticed Rebecca wasn't listening anymore.

"If she could read a 'story’,” There was an edge in the word story when Rebecca said. "Could she change it?"

Chalky seemed to be confused at her reaction, but thought about it. "Well, it would come at a cost. Something like that would put a lot of strain on her - on the Underverse. She could, I guess, but I've never known her to do it."

"You told me Lyra poured some of her essence into me to heal me, right?"

"Well, yeah. The Dente Nocturn had nearly devoured your story."

The words of the Queen came back to haunt Rebecca:

“In the past, someone like me could step in to minimize the chaos and limit the

damage, but now I’m the only one; there’s no one else like me right now.”

"My story was changed,” Rebecca said, remembering how Lyra looked at her. The air thickened, heat radiating from her skin. Steam curled off the surface of the bath as her pulse pounded in her ears.

"What.." Chalky's mouth was wide open.

"I was in here, I saw something respond to me, maybe something with firecloak, or what the Dente Nocturn did, or what Lyra did, but I saw my story."

Rebecca's voice was cold. She stared at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. They began to glow.

"Someone has been pulling the strings before I even got here."

Chalky was watching Rebecca, and for the first time, she was frightened of her. Rebecca's anger was not something she had seen on anyone's face for a long time. She had lost two sisters that day.

Rebecca gazed at Chalky. “I was supposed to die out there. I was never meant to make it back. Sarah and I, maybe the whole crew. All dead. Someone changed that.” Each word in the sentence was driven home like a nail.

"Well, they're not dead, and you’re alive. It's good if someone changed it, right?" Chalky sounded confused.

"They changed it because they needed someone lost, someone they could use. Someone to dangle a carrot in front of them. Someone they could take everything away from and tell them they should be grateful. Grateful they'll never see their loved ones."

With each passing word, Rebecca glowed brighter and brighter. She was beginning to radiate heat. The robe started to smolder, and she threw it to the ground.

"Someone changed my story because they needed me to replace them here. They gave me this fucking key and ring." She threw the ring at Chalky.

"She changed my fucking story to suit her needs, and I still don't know what they are." She stepped closer to Chalky, who stepped back.

"I don't care. I don't care about you. I don't care about this goddamn place. Thank you, Lyra, for changing my story. But I'm not bowing before you or any other fucking queen, god, deity that keeps me from my family."

She turned to look for the photo she held in her other hand. The heat was curling the edges, yellowing the paper. She froze. “Fuck!”

She took a deep breath, dropped the photo, and jumped back in the bath. The water steamed and hissed when she entered, and she looked at Chalky.

"After 'my bath' I'm leaving. You are not coming with me."

You're not coming with me!

Chalky was speechless.

"Whatever plan she has, she can shove it into her royal blue ass. Whatever stupid role you're playing, it ends now."

Still glowing, she felt the heat fade. She picked up the photo and the key and walked out without caring that she was naked.

Chalky stood there, stunned, well, like a statue. She only moved when the butterfly landed on her head. She picked up the ring and turned the ring over in her palm, the metal cold against her stone skin.

"Oh, Lyra. What now?"

––To be continued

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Next Time on The Queen of the Underverse…

Far from the Underverse, life on Earth moves on—or at least tries to. Old friends struggle with fresh grief, children dream of impossible reunions, and somewhere above Florida, something impossible still waits in the sky.

Don’t miss Interlude Earthside.

© 2025 Donnavon Evans

August 12, 2025