Jaycee was sitting on a pillow of air, a good four inches above the ground. She clicked her fingers and a warm wind swirled around her, blowing her long hair about. She fingered a wavy strand. It was almost white, it was so blonde. When she was small the big kids in the town had teased her about it.
“Jaycee’s a grandma! Soon she’ll go bald!” they had jeered. But that was before her life had changed irrevocably. Now she was older, and wiser, and stronger. Now she had more power in her little finger than they would ever have combined. Now Jaycee could blow them all away on a gust of wind, or cause it to pour on them, or suck them up in a big tornado and whirl them around until they shut their mouths teasing her.
Jaycee clicked her fingers again and a heavy book came soaring towards, born on a gust of wind. She caught it. The Magick of Aire read the title. She had owned this book for five years, ever since she had found out her duty here. Ever since her life had changed forever.
Five years ago she had been eating breakfast with her mother. They lived together in a little underground house in the desert. Jaycee hated the underground. She was claustrophobic, and the fact that she was surrounded on all sides by earth made her feel nauseous. However, this was necessary. Dust storms had been known to sweep the desert, tornadoes too. Of course, living in the earth they had to be a bit wary of spiders and snakes, but on the whole they managed pretty well. Jaycee only used the house at night and when the weather outside was poor. She preferred to run in the desert, the hot wind blowing her long hair back. She wrapped rags around her feet to protect them from the hot sand, and any unfriendly animals. Sometimes she left for a whole day, simply running, following the sun, until midday and then running back the rest of the day.
Those were good days, when she was young. Then, when she was seven, dad left, just walked away into the desert one day and never returned. Then Jaycee had to stay around the house and help mother.
The two of them rose early, around five. Jaycee ran with her empty buckets to the water hole that was three miles away from the little house. She drank her fill, and then filled her buckets. She walked back, trying not to spill any of their precious water. She only had time to make two trips every day, and the water had to last.
By the time she was back, her mother had laid out their breakfast: dried quandong (a red, so called “native peach”), strips of dried kangaroo meat, and damper, simple bread which was a staple of their diet. They ate quickly and set about to do the day’s work. Mother knew that Jaycee hated housework, so on most days Jaycee did the foraging. This meant taking her buckets back to the waterhole and picking the foods that grew there. There was also some foraging to be done on the way back. Every few weeks Jaycee went on an overnight trip to the town. It took her most of the day to run out. She shopped in the evening, slept overnight with some friends, and ran back the next day with her goods.
On that day, five years ago, Jaycee was nine. She had been preparing to set off to collect food when there had been a knock on the trapdoor in the kitchen ceiling. Her mother had answered it. An older woman peered down into their house. Strangely, her white-blonde hair was the same color as Jaycee’s. She supposed that this was to be expected, the woman was old enough to be going grey. Still the woman bore enough resemblance to Jaycee to make her feel uneasy.
“Hello.” The woman spoke softly and her voice was slightly husky. “Are you Miss Jaycee Emery?”
“That I am.”
“Madam, how do you know my daughters name?” asked my mother suspiciously.
“Oh, I believe you’ve met me. I did pay you and your husband a visit, once, nine years ago to the day, I believe.”
Jaycee looked up at her mother. Her birthday had been nine days ago. She wondered if this visit had anything to do with her birth.
Jaycee’s mother sank to her knees.
“No!” she whispered, “not now!”
“I’m sorry, but it is time,” said the old woman, gently.
“What’s going on?” Jaycee asked, bemused.
“I’m not your mother, Jay,” said her mother softly.
“Of course you’re my mother!”
“But I’m not.”
“But you are!”
“The girl is right, Elaine,” the old woman addressed Jaycee’s mother, “maybe not by blood, but you are her mother, not Callie. So long as she calls you mother, mother you are.”
“What do you mean, not by blood?” Jaycee was getting extremely confused. She looked from her mother to the old woman, and back to her mother.
“Jaycee, this woman is your grandmother.” Jaycee’s mother said quietly, “She left you here when you were nine days old. Your real mother was too busy saving the world to take care of you. I raised you as if you were my daughter. But I knew there would come a day when you would have to leave.”
The older woman spoke: “I am here because Callie Caeli, your mother, is dead. We need you to come up to Pangaea Ultima and begin your education. You must prepare to continue your mother’s life’s work.”
“What? Pangaea Whotima? What’s that? My mother? Who is Callie Kelly or whatever her name is? What are you talking about?” Jaycee blurted all this out at once. Her brain was spinning. “Look, I need to go out to the well. Ma’am, maybe you should go.” Jaycee was almost to the door when her mother said:
“Jay, listen to the woman. She is your grandmother. Pangaea Ultima is a supercontinent. To scientists, it is merely a theory, a prediction of what will become of the continents in the next 250 million years. Scientists believe that the continents will consolidate once more and become one great continent, called a supercontinent. This is not unheard of. It is believed that many such supercontinents existed before the time of the humans. Pangaea Ultima is named after Pangaea, a supercontinent existing around 250 million years ago.
“To most, Pangaea Ultima is only a concept. But to you, your mother, and your grandmother it is very real. This continent does live in the future. Figuratively, it floats above the clouds, though special portals are required to reach it. Those who live there work to help those on the continents, controlling what happens in the natural world.
“I am not your true mother. Your mother had a childhood sweetheart. Do not ask me his name. When she discovered that her destiny lay in Pangaea Ultima she despaired. She visited him, and when she returned she was with child. That, of course, was you. Callie Caeli had much work to do up above, and could not stay in Australia to raise you. Her lover could not take you for reasons you shall learn of later, so your grandmother came to me. We are old friends and I have long wanted companionship. I did not want you to be haunted by the day you would have to leave, so I did not inform you of your true identity. Please forgive me for this.
“Your mother was one of the most powerful Pangaeans alive. She was a master in the magic of air. Now that she is dead, you must take her place. It is essential that you accept this. It is your duty.”
Jaycee was not sure if she or her mother had gone mad. Maybe this was just a dream. She decided to play along with it, not wanting to hurt her mother’s feelings.
“But what about you? If I go to this floating continent, who will help you live?”
“That is all taken care of, dear,” interjected Jaycee’s ‘grandmother,’ “we have arranged for your mother to be moved to spacious housing with a maid and companion who will take care of her. She will have everything she could want or need. For the first two years you will be allowed to visit her at pre-arranged dates.”
“And what if I don’t want to go?”
Jaycee had no wish to be separated from her mother.
“You must come, Jaycee,” said her grandmother gently, “we need you.”
Jaycee had looked at the two women. Her short, stocky mother, who she loved more than anyone in the world, and the tall, regal woman whom she so resembled and was trying to tip her world upside-down. She made her decision.
