Spiraling backward, outward. Triel found herself collapsed on top of Jetta, her mind still stretched between worlds until she felt her friend’s biorhythm vanishing beneath her and grounded herself.
“Jetta,” Triel whispered. “I saw you. You’re not a monster. Your powers are limitless. But right now you draw your talent from your fear.”
Triel slipped one hand over the knife wound and laid the other on Jetta’s cheek.
“Oh no...”
The Healer couldn’t reach her—not like before, at least. Whatever the Motti had done to corrupt Jetta’s cellular growth was accelerating, and Triel could not isolate any healthy tissue to stimulate regeneration of her injured areas.
It was a patchy job but the best she could do. When she inspected the wound it was an angry lump of scar tissue. She could still feel the heat of inflammation and foreign bodies below her skin, but there was nothing left she could heal. With a fresh wave of fear, she realized that if anything else happened to Jetta, there might be nothing more Triel could do for her.
Garbled sounds from behind Triel made her whip around. Blood bubbled out of Amargo’s mouth. She rushed to his side and held his head up as the blood and sputum burbled past his lips. “It wasn’t... supposed... to be like this.”
Triel felt a hand on her shoulder, and with a flood of relief she knew Jetta had come around. She was bleary-eyed, pale, and holding the wound in her gut as she knelt down beside the Healer.
“He’s dying and there’s nothing I can do to save him. Whatever you did to him...” Triel began, but Jetta’s shame rushed out like a geyser and doused her words.
Amargo’s breaths rose to gasps, his pulse uneven.
“Move aside,” Jetta said.
Triel didn't know what to expect when Jetta grabbed hold of Amargo's hands and closed her eyes, but it wasn't Jetta's silhouette flickering inside Amargo's body to the rhythm of her body's swaying. The Healer blinked, disbelieving. Jetta’s lips formed words but never spoke them. A low hum surrounded them, seeming to originate from somewhere outside the Healer but simultaneously resounding within her.
Jetta opened her eyes. The humming stopped. There was a sad but strangely satisfied look on her face as she laid Amargo’s body down to rest.
“What happened?”
“He gave me permission to take all his knowledge and memories,” Jetta said quietly, sitting back on her heels. “He was... an extraordinary man.”
Triel sensed there was something she was leaving out. “But?”
“But despite all of his convictions, he had doubts.”
“About what?”
“All of this,” Jetta said, her eyes resting heavily on the body of the dead archeologist. “He found flaws, inconsistencies, in the histories and writings of your people. It was because of his belief in the power of his promise to his ancestors and to the Prodgy that he kept them to himself. But now that I see them, I can’t ignore them like he did.”
Triel was about to say something when she caught a glimpse of the figure carved into the door. It was like looking into a mirror, leaving her frightened and speechless.
“Even that,” Jetta said, following her line of sight, “isn’t what it seems. I think the Temple of Exxuthus has many secrets that not even your highest priests were allowed to know.”
Triel’s eyes scanned the violence depicted on the wall. “The legend said that this place was built within a tree older than time itself, and that the tree and the Temple had always been on Algar, even before the Prodgies.”
“That can’t be true,” Jetta scoffed.
“They used to say that no man that sought the Temple could find it. The first visitors were in fact three wanderers that chanced upon the Temple during a full moon several thousand years ago.”
“That’s at least somewhat possible. Amargo learned that the blood flower blooms during the full moon, and if you’re covered in the pollen, the tree can’t detect your scent. It was possible your ancestors discovered this trick,” Jetta said.
“When the priests arrived, the Gods swore them to secrecy about the Temple, but one of the three broke his promise and went back to his village to tell the others of his discovery. That’s when the wars started, and my people nearly killed themselves. Then Saol crossed over, and Rion returned.”
Jetta nodded. “That was also consistent in his mind, even the part about the Great Mother’s sacrifice and the restoration of the tribes. Except for one thing.”
Jetta stood up and pointed to a small inscription on the wall. It was a symbol that stood by itself over a triangle within a circle. The carvings around it were faded, some chipped away. “This is a symbol for Earth. And it is a warning. There are other places in the Temple inscribed with this same warning, but they’re all worn or destroyed. Amargo pieced together what he could and realized that Algar was linked to Earth at about the same time Saol was reborn as Rion. Look here—you can even see a depiction of the Egyptian pyramids on Old Earth”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
Jetta shook her head. “It means that your ancestors might have known when to come rescue the human race because it was forewarned. And from his studies, he believed that it was something that the Prodgies did or didn’t do to anger your ‘Gods’ that caused the destruction of Earth.”
“What?” Triel exclaimed.
Jetta squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know any more than that. I just have his knowledge and his doubts in my head. This place—the stories you were told—may be a smokescreen. I feel like there is much more to this story, and much more linking Earth and Algar than you and I ever knew, and Amargo believed that it was crucial to get to the bottom of it. He just thought he had more time. He didn’t think that I would...”
Jetta started to rub the scar on her belly but stopped when she realized what she was doing. Slowly she picked herself off the ground. “We can’t stay here. I believe this Temple is a living place. He was right about that. I feel alive. More alive than I’ve ever felt. I feel like I’m close to something strangely familiar—close to home.”
Triel inhaled sharply. She was afraid to look at Jetta, but she forced herself anyway. Jetta was wringing her hands, staring at the door to the Diez di Trios.
“If I am Rion, then this is the last place I should be. Even the walls seem to be watching me, as if they’re expecting something from me.”
“Okay,” Triel said cautiously. “Where do we go? We’re literally entombed by the tree, and even if we could figure out how to walk out of here, I have no idea when the next full moon is.”
Jetta shook her head. “Not necessary. Amargo and Helena used a freight cruiser to transport their group here. The ship is still docked in the courtyard of the temple.”
“Then we can get out of here?”
Jetta looked unsure. “Amargo didn’t really do a lot of maintenance once they grounded.”
To her surprise, Jetta grabbed onto her as she tried to get up.
“Hey—I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Jetta lowered her eyes. “All of this. I’m ashamed of everything. Thanks for healing me and giving me a second chance. Your faith in me makes all of this worth it.”
“Jetta,” Triel began, but she couldn’t complete her sentence.
Jetta seemed to pick up on her uncertainty and changed the subject. “What did you mean when you said I draw my talent from my fear?”
Triel thought of the mirrored water she had seen in the otherworldly vision. She pointed to the wall. “These men—you see how they fight? Knife to knife, fist to flesh. They draw their power from the same place, and look where it leads them. It’s the same with you. When you came out of the Diez di Trios, you were scared, right?”
Jetta nodded. “I thought I was being attacked.”
“And you drew from that fear to attack the Jumaris and the archeologists?”
Jetta inhaled sharply. “Yes.”
“You are capable of so much more, Jetta. I saw it.
That’s why I’m still here.”
Jetta looked down at the ugly scar across her belly. “I’m sorry, Triel. I won’t disappoint you anymore. I promise.”
Triel allowed herself a half-smile. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this place. I think the walls are watching us, too.”
Jetta picked up Amargo’s lantern and some of his personal possessions before they ascended the stairs. Triel had just reached the top step when they both heard the whisper.
You can’t leave.
“Jetta, who is that? What’s happening?”
Thief.
Unable to formulate the words to describe her fear, Triel pointed to the walls. They were bleeding from the cracks in the mortar. Jetta took one look and grabbed her hand. “Run.”
“What’s going on?” Triel said between breaths as they sprinted toward the wolves. Jetta helped Triel on top of Cano before mounting Kiyiyo. A terrible shriek came from the dark staircase leading to the Diez di Trios, but neither of them dared to look back.
Jetta didn’t have time to answer the Healer as they spurred the wolves and took off, away from the angry cacophony that belled out from the chamber. The walls were shaking, covering them in white dust as they streaked down the sloped corridors, the weak light from the lantern and the keen nocturnal eyes of the wolves their only salvation.
Triel was suddenly grateful for Jetta’s powers as she guided them through the maze of the Temple using Amargo’s knowledge. She crouched low against her wolf as he ducked under a collapsed construction beam and picked his way across the rubble.
Small shafts of daylight broke through the ceiling, and she realized they were nearing the apex of the Temple. The ground was shaking, and the wolves were having trouble finding footing on the shifting stonework.
Thief!
The frequency of the unseen voice was rising, a terrible itch in her skin. She looked up and saw Jetta bracing her head in her arms, no longer holding onto her wolf. Blood trickled from her ears as she begged for release, flailing wildly.
Triel pulled her wolf alongside Jetta’s. She didn’t even think about the consequences of her actions as she leapt from her wolf to Jetta’s and narrowly avoided slamming into an archway.
Triel held tight to her friend as Kiyiyo jumped over a series of felled pillars. The voice was still rising, shaking her bones right down to the marrow. It took everything she had to keep her mind focused on the task as they climbed a small mountain of fractured stone. Sticky spider webs clung to her face, but she dared not let go of Kiyiyo or Jetta to wipe them off.
As they crested the mountain of broken stone, Triel saw where a large area of the roof had caved in, a bright beam of daylight illuminating their path to freedom. The wolf veered toward the opening and prepared to jump.
“So close—”
Reality splintered. She was no longer mounted atop a wolf that leapt toward the sunlight. She was standing in a garden that stretched out in every direction toward the turquoise horizon. Massive stone statues marked intervals along the rows of bushes, which were lined with carefully tended plants and floral arrangements.
“Welcome, Triel of Algardrien. I’ve waited a long time for you to arrive.”
“Arpethea...”
Triel couldn’t believe her eyes. The old Seer was wrapped in a light, silken cloth, and what little skin showed was the color of pearl. The markings of their people were eerily dark against her pale skin, like the blackest night she could remember, but her eyes shone like the brightest of stars.
“Where am I?”
“You are at the crossroads. I traveled here at a grave cost to warn you.”
“Of what?”
Arpethea’s voice deepened. “The Apparax.”
“Jetta?” Triel said.
“She is not ready for what she must do. She will try and stop you,” Arpethea said, her voice continuing to deepen and magnify. “She will not let you fulfill your destiny.”
“What do you mean?”
Arpethea’s eyes glowed like cinders. “Do not hesitate to end her life to save your own.”
Triel backed away from the Seer as the turquoise sky dimmed to the color of engine oil. The greenery wilted and the statues crumbled. Arpethea’s clothes began to disintegrate, revealing the patches of discoloration creeping across her skin like rust. “End her life to save our people.”
Triel screamed as Arpethea’s rotting fingers reached for her.
“Kill the Apparax.”
JETTA CAME TO SPRAWLED on a grassy mound between overturned statues. The sun was warm on her skin, birdsong and the rustlings of trees a welcome change from the unwanted voices inside and outside her head. Kiyiyo trotted over and licked her face before returning with Cano to examine the Healer lying a few meters away.
“Triel!”
The wolves had managed to get them outside the Temple to the courtyard at the apex of the tiered pyramid, but they were still in danger. Jetta crawled over to a break in the wall and saw treetops below them in the mist. Young, purple vines sent out by the tree enveloping the outside of the temple snaked up the stone toward the courtyard.
“Chi’Tabalu,” Jetta whispered, drawing on Amargo’s memories. Chi’Tabalu was the name given to the tree by the ancient scribes. It meant “life-reaper” and also “guardian of the heavens.” When Amargo landed years ago, they had used a manufactured version of blood flower pollen to escape detection by the tree while they gained access to the Temple from the roof. The freight cruiser, overgrown with weeds and covered in layers of dirt and grime, still rested between two spires.
He never expected to leave.
Surprised, Jetta wondered where the thought came from. She knew Amargo hadn’t expected to die. When she dug further into his memories, she rooted out a conversation held in secrecy between the two archeologists.
“I will follow the Apparax when she crosses over.”
“Amargo, no—that is forbidden!”
“Helena, it is the only way! You know how I feel about this. I must keep my oath to preserve the truth of ancient history, not perpetuate deceit based on the fears of our ancestors and allies. It is the only way to know!”
Triel’s moan distracted Jetta from Amargo’s memories. She rose on unsteady legs and limped her way over to the Healer.
“Hey—are you okay?” Jetta asked, gently shaking her shoulders.
Triel opened her eyes and looked at Jetta with fear and terrible knowing. Taken aback by the intensity of her thoughts, Jetta dropped to her knees.
“Jetta?” Triel whispered. The fear in her face passed. The Healer propped herself up on her elbows and turned to her. “We’re safe?”
“Not yet. Can you walk?”
Triel used Cano to help pull herself up. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little shaken. What happened in there?”
The Healer touched Jetta’s ear and retracted bloody fingertips. Jetta touched them herself and felt the gummy, coagulating blood. “It felt like someone was scraping at the inside of my skull.” She shook her head and grabbed Triel’s hand. “Let’s get out of here and worry about it later.”
Even with Jetta’s augmented strength and Triel’s assistance, the cab door to the freight cruiser put up a fight.
“What a piece of meitka!” Jetta shouted, veins throbbing in her forehead. Finally, with the help of the wolves pawing and nosing at the door, they managed to pry it open.
“Get in,” Jetta said, shooing the animals and helping the Healer step up to the deck.
“Does it still work?” Triel asked, swiping a hand through the dust lining the interior.
“This piece of junk is older than dirt,” Jetta mumbled, sliding into the cockpit. She flipped on the central processor but nothing happened.
“Skucheka!”
“Is there enough fuel?”
“This has got to be a joke.” Jetta tapped the gauges and went to the back to find the emergency toolkit. “Gods, I don’t even know—who designed this meitka? There must be a short in the primar
y router. Stay here, and when I give you the signal, give the engines a boost.”
She knew she was in trouble the second her foot touched the soft grass. The birdsong had stopped and the mist had crept higher, spilling over the courtyard walls in slow motion waves.
Jetta passed the toolkit from hand to hand and nervously looked around. Her extrasensory perceptions were picking up a strange sort of interference, like the white noise on their old television set, and it dampened her talent. She was surrounded only by silence, the untended plants of the courtyard, and the creeping mist.
“Mae dereke ni onanosk,” she mumbled, ducking underneath the hood-access of the freighter. The ship was tangled in weeds and crawling with spiders. No matter how many times she brushed them off, the tickle of their tiny legs returned as they searched for cover on her body.
“Try that,” Jetta shouted, snapping two fixtures together. The engine struggled, then shut off.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jetta noticed a purple creeper slithering through the bushes, root hairs gyrating in its pseudo-oral cavity. It must be orienting itself toward her scent. She didn’t have much time.
“Try that!” Jetta shouted again. The engine whirred and clicked, then hiccupped and died. “Mugarruthepeta!”
Jetta rummaged through the tools, desperately looking for something she couldn’t find. Was it a screwgrinder or a hexjack that she needed? Fixing engines was never her strength; she had always relied on her sister’s more mechanically gifted mind.
“Jaeia,” she whispered, “I could really use you right now.”
Something hissed to her left, then her right. Suddenly it was all around her. The wolves were whining inside the cabin of the ship and nervously padding around the deck.
“Jetta!” Triel shouted from the top hatch.
“I know!”
The lightsaw dipped across the top of her finger and gave her a shock. She reflexively dropped the tool.
“Gorsh-shit!” she shouted, dropping to her hands and knees to search through the overgrown weeds and grass.
Something touched the back of her leg, and she hit her head on the hood-access. She wheeled around and saw a flash of purple disappear into the mist.
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