Alyson Noël - Shimmer

“You will never succeed with such a method. You are going about it all wrong.”

We were standing just outside of the bubble—

No, scratch that.

The truth is Prince Kanta was standing just outside the bubble while I was pressed up against it, pounding and kicking the smooth, glossy exterior with every bit of my (undeniably measly) strength.

I glanced over my shoulder, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “Oh, yeah? So why don’t you come over and help instead of just standing there watching me fail. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, if you know so much?”

But the prince made no move to help. He just remained right where he was. Neither flinching nor wincing—not reacting to my tone or my words in any way, shape, or form. In fact, he was so still and serious, I actually wondered if he’d heard me. Though I’d yelled it so loudly, I was pretty sure it’d been impossible to miss.

I’d just turned back to the globe and was about to start pounding again when he said, “You will never succeed with resistance, Riley. In this case, as in most cases, resistance just begets more resistance. Or, in other words, what you resist—persists. Acceptance is the only way.”

Oh, brother.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, annoyed to the point where I no longer cared if he saw.

As far as I was concerned, it was just a whole lot of psychobabble, more crazy talk coming right up, and it was getting me nowhere. For whatever reason, rather than actually helping me, he’d chosen to distract me, annoy me, and just generally waste my time instead. And once again, I’d found that I’d pretty much reached my limit with him.

I narrowed my gaze, glaring at him in such a way that I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if great plumes of smoke shot out from my nose and my ears. My voice harsh, edgy, making absolutely no further attempt at good manners, little niceties, or the smallest of pleasantries, when I said, “Listen, maybe you mean well, maybe you don’t, only you know for sure. But either way, I think you need to know that I’m pretty much done listening to these crazy philosophical riddles that I doubt even you understand.” I pushed my long, side-swept bangs off my face, tried to tuck them back behind my ears, but being just a smidgen too short, they fell right back into my eyes, so I decided to leave them there. “So either you help me break into this bubble so I can free my friends, or—”

Our eyes met.

“Or you … don’t .” I lifted my shoulders, knowing that as far as threats went, it was a pretty pathetic one, but still, at that moment, it was the best I could do. “Either way, I have no time to waste, so if you don’t mind—”

I returned to the bubble, my fist rising high above my head, just about to bring it back down and smash it hard against the side, when it was caught in midair by the prince.

His fingers circled my wrist, as his eyes bore into mine. Then slowly, with no cooperation on my part, he unfolded my fingers, one at a time. Straightening and spreading them as he lowered my palm and gently placed it onto the bubble until it was flush against the surface, his face calm, eyes kind, softly cooing in a way that strangely sent a soothing wave of calm coursing through me.

“Shhh…” He looked at me. “You must remain quiet, peaceful, and still. You must accept the situation you now find yourself in. All of this fighting—all of this resistance —is only making it worse. Rebecca thrives on anger. It is the fuel that fires her world. And you, Miss Riley Bloom, are only aiding her.” He paused for a moment, long enough to make sure I was listening, before he continued. “Your friends are trapped, there is no getting around that. But rather than fighting what is, you must first learn to accept it. Only then will you clear a path in your mind that will lead you to the solution.”

I looked at him, looked right into those deep, mysterious eyes, and I started to say: What?

Started to say: Are you crazy? Why should I even think about accepting such a horrible thing—when I have to do whatever it takes to stop it?

But before I could get to any of that, the strangest thing happened.

The bubble’s surface, the reflective, rounded part that lay just under my fingers, began to soften and give just the tiniest bit.

I looked at Prince Kanta, my eyes wide, jaw practically dropped to my knees, seeing him nod, press his finger briefly to his lips, and then motion for me to place my other hand just beside it.

So I did.

And the same thing happened again.

The surface continuing to conform and give as he said, “Rather than fighting the bubble, you must learn to accept it.” He moved into place, positioning himself right next to me and pressing his palms against it in the same way I did. “Are you familiar with the cornstarch-and-water experiment?”

I looked at him, my voice high-pitched and screechy as I blurted, “Oobleck!” Remembering the day at summer camp when the counselors separated us all into small groups, then handed us each a bowl filled with a pile of cornstarch and water they’d mixed together, and how surprised I was when they told us to make a fist and pound on it as hard as we could, only to find my fist bouncing right back. It was impossible to penetrate, or at least not by force anyway. “If you try to force your way into the mix by pounding it or jabbing it, it doesn’t work. It … resists .” My eyes grew wide as I gazed at him, suddenly understanding what he’d been trying to tell me all along. “But if you press slowly and gently—”

“Then your fingers sink right in.” He nodded, his expression showing how pleased he was that I finally understood, even though he refused to grant me a smile. “So you must think of the bubble as this—”

“Oobleck.” I nodded.

“You must accept that your friends are inside, accept that Rebecca is very angry and will do all that she can to work against you, accept all of that as your current reality, and then once you’ve accepted what is, you are free to proceed without the need to force anything.” He paused, making sure I understood, and I’m happy to say that I did.

“There are many trapped inside, many others whom you’ve never met, but who are in need of your help nonetheless. I must tell you that I have dreamed that the glowing ones would arrive one day, and now that you are here, I am very much pleased.”

He continued to speak, but I was no longer listening. All I could focus on was the part about the glowing ones .

While my glow may not have been all that —while it may have only been a barely there green (as Bodhi was so quick to point out)—it was there nonetheless.

Radiant enough to where even Prince Kanta had seen it.

Radiant enough to where he thought I might be of some help.

“Once we are inside, in order to help them, in order to release them, we must learn the stories that keep them imprisoned in order to compassionately free them from their own pasts.”

I looked at him, acknowledging that while he was definitely weird, a bit of an oddball for sure, I was still glad to have him around, since I was pretty sure that, glow or no glow, I wasn’t really all that equipped to tackle the job on my own.

I watched as he pressed up against the bubble, moved himself so close his entire body, including his nose and his face, were pressed flush against it. Then, with a quick wave of his fingers, he motioned for me to follow suit.

And after positioning myself the same way as he had, we closed our eyes and melded with the surface, and not long after, we found ourselves inside.