The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series

by Carissa Andrews

  Suddenly, my fear begins to subside.

  Am I misunderstanding this, too? Am I assuming this creature is sinister, when it’s really something else? Why would the Caudex bring me here, only to have me killed?

  No—this is a message sent for me.

  The instant my fear evaporates, the creature releases me and light returns. Instead of the beam, however, small torches along the inner part of the stairwell are lit. I turn around to find myself face to face with the largest arachnid I’ve ever seen. Easily three times my height, its four large eyes are surrounded by tufts of bright red, blue, and green fur. Its mouth is covered by large furry tusks the color of my hair.

  Instantly, I scramble backward.

  The spider doesn’t move, its black eyes watching me without any lids to blink. The white tusks move like a mustache, but makes no intelligible sound beyond grunts and clicking. One large leg raises, then taps the pocket of my trousers where the key resides.

  “The key? Are you saying I caused this to happen? Or I can’t— ? I mean, am I not supposed to take this?” I ask, placing my hand over the key when the spider pulls back.

  The spider doesn’t make another move, its unblinking eyes watching. Somewhere nearby, I hear a whimper, like I had earlier. When I turn around, a Salamander enters from behind me, slinking down the stairs with speed and ease. I catch its movements with the corner of my eye as it loops around the outer circle of stairs, racing along the walls instead of the stone steps. When I look back, the spider is no longer there.

  My hand immediately plunges into my pocket expecting the worst, but the key is still there.

  “What am I supposed to know? Why am I shown this key and then given the impression I’m not meant to take it? I wish you could communicate with me,” I say, frustrated at the lack of information I’ve been dealt.

  ~Who said we can’t communicate?

  The voice is soft and almost slurred, but definitely audible somewhere in my mind. Instantly, I know it’s coming from the Salamander.

  “The eLink—Adrian said returning would damage the—”

  ~This has nothing to do with the eLink. Your communication with us is all your own, Daughter of Five.

  I blink, watching the Salamander getting closer and closer.

  Then why do I have to speak out loud to get an answer? The question pops into my mind and I grunt. Seems a bit ridiculous they can invade my mind with their thoughts and answers, but I can’t do the same.

  ~You make many assumptions, Daughter of Five.

  I slump to the floor and rest on one of the steps, waiting for the Salamander to come to me. This is a bit much to handle.

  When the large black face and deep blue pools for eyes finally stand before me, I sigh.

  “Are you the same Salamander as before?” I ask.

  ~Would there be another?

  “Stop doing that. Yes or no. It’s an easy question.”

  Now that I’ve found my voice, I feel no need to do everything mentally anymore. It’s actually nice to be firmly grounded in my vocal chords rather than bound by the constraints of my mind.

  ~Yes.

  “Good, now we’re getting somewhere. How about some answers?” I ask, standing up and brushing off my trousers.

  I need to know what my mission is. Why I’m here…The Salamander is my best chance at figuring all this out and untangling this mess.

  ~You’re here because your mission requires it to be so. You already have your mission parameters.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t read my mind and answer me before I ask the question,” I say, lowering my eyebrows.

  ~As you dictate.

  The Salamander bows, as if taking my command is important to her.

  “I’m not dictating any—” I say, but cut myself off. Yes, I really am dictating terms, and I guess that’s fine. I need answers, and I need them on my terms.

  “Why didn’t you speak to me before now?”

  ~Because you were required to pass the first trial.

  “Trial? What trial?” I ask, pacing back and forth.

  ~Their predetermination does not require your understanding before implementation.

  “Talk in English, please.”

  ~You will be made aware of the trials when the time is ready.

  “Aren’t I technically aware now?” I snort.

  ~No.

  “What do you mean no? You just told me —”

  ~I told you of a trial you were required to pass. You have no information on what the trial is, nor what the others will be. Therefore, the answer is no. You have no awareness.

  “I see.”

  ~Do you? I was not made aware your vision has returned.

  “Returned? What are you talking about? I didn’t know it had gone.” I say, frowning at the Salamander.

  ~I have said too much. It is up to you to find, understand, extrapolate what is necessary.

  “You’re speaking in riddles again,” I warn.

  ~Your time of understanding will come. For now, you must trust your path will make more sense in the near future.

  “But not now,” I say matter-of-factly.

  The Salamander says nothing, but instead circles around to the other side of me, effectively blocking the stairwell going back down.

  “Alright, I get the hint,” I say, making a face and turning to head up the stairs.

  ~Know this, Daughter of Five. Upon completion, you will be capable of facing anything which comes your way. Believe me, there will be much to ward off and you must be ready.

  “Gee, thanks,” my eyebrows pull in as I shake my head at all the cryptic talk.

  The Salamander guards the steps as I work my way upward. The stairs have a completely different feel with the fire torches versus the natural plume of light from the center. For some reason, it’s both more cozy and more ominous.

  As I enter the circular cavern room, I hear the whimper again, louder this time. I look down the staircase, expecting the Salamander to be directly behind me. However the lights have extinguished themselves, one by one, as I ascend. If she’s still there, she’s chosen to blend into the darkness.

  I strain my ears, listening for the whimper again. For the longest time, I wait, holding my breath. When nothing happens, I let out a soft laugh.

  I’ve gotta be hearing things. Or perhaps the cavern has its own moans as it settles in the heat outside. Following the fires back the way I came, I stop by one and turn the key over again in my hand. Despite my vision originally cluing me in on its importance, it feels utterly ordinary. Not at all like the crystal hanging from my neck.

  A sniffle nearby makes me freeze. This time knowing without a doubt I’m not hearing things.

  “Who’s in here? Answer me,” my voice quivers and I take a few, uneasy steps forward.

  The sniffle erupts into a full-out sob and I rush forward, searching the space all around. I pull up short when on the floor behind a large rock outcropping is a tiny body. Hands and feet are shackled to the wall with strange chains that extend out of the rock. Extremely frail, with boney ribs and shoulder blades protruding is a young boy clothed only with a ripped up modesty cloth. His hair is as black as the cavern when the lights went out.

  I rush over, dropping to my knees.

  “Are you alright? Wh—who did this to you?” I ask, gently rolling the boy over.

  His face is black and blue; his eyes black mounds and swollen shut. He lets out a final sob and promptly loses consciousness.

  “Hang tight, hang on,” I mutter, repeating myself over and over as I scan the shackles and try to find a way to free him. There is no lock, no keyhole—nothing at all to help me determine a way to get him out. I wrench at the wall, trying to pull them out of the rocky formation, but it’s useless.

  “Who did this to you? How long have you been here?” I ask as I continue to assess the situation, and in a feeble attempt to keep him here with me. The little boy doesn’t move or regain consciousness. His frail body suggests he’s been here
a while and needs immediate help.

  Who would have done such a thing?

  4

  Runa

  HOW CAN THIS LITTLE BOY be shackled to a wall with no discernible way to unlock the restraints? I have to be missing something.

  I take off my NanoTech jacket and place it over his frail body.

  “I’ll be right back,” I promise in a whisper, “I’m going to bring you some water. Don’t worry.”

  He mumbles something inaudible as I run my hand over his dark hair, hoping in some way to comfort him. Black and blue streaks cross his forehead and continue into his hairline. How did this happen to him? He must be in so much pain, but he sighs softly as I stand up.

  I hate leaving him, but if I can’t figure out how to get him out, I can at least get him some water so he doesn’t die of dehydration. I take off running toward where I began my trek deeper into the cave. One good thing about spending time in the Haven and Lateral, I feel like I have a better sense of direction underground than I ever thought possible. I run the corridor, hoping I can bring the water back to him quickly without wasting too much time. His swollen eyes and bruised face are burned into my mind as I race back to the small alcove.

  Who—or what—could do something like this to him? How could the little boy be in here, of all places… Perhaps more worrisome, will whoever did this be back? And if so, when?

  Shivering away the thought, I push myself to run faster. When I reach the water, I scan around for something to bring it back with. I kick over rocks and stones, hoping to find one with a bit of an indent, but there’s nothing even close. All of the rocks are smooth and round —not a single one offers the help I need.

  “Ugh—there has to be something,” I cry out, throwing my hands down in disgust.

  When I was first found by Trae and the others, I couldn’t drink water straight. I vaguely remember a swab or something, they didn’t pour it in straight away. When they did, it felt like they were pouring sand down my throat and not water.

  With my limited supplies of only the clothing on my back or the Caudex at my feet, I decide to go with the book.

  “They’re all blank anyway,” I say justifying myself as I scramble to get the Caudex from its hiding place. I pull at my necklace to reveal the aquamarine stone, which lights up brightly.

  The Caudex lock releases and I flip open the tome. Skipping to the last pages of the Caudex, I tear out a worn looking piece of parchment. Rushing to the water, I crumple the paper in my hand to make a ball and thrust my hands into the water. I allow the liquid to soak into the page so I can bring back as much water as possible. When I’m satisfied there’s enough, I cup my hands and race back to his small, crumbled body.

  “I’m back,” I say, kneeling down beside him.

  He whimpers softly as I pull his head into my lap. I hold the soaked piece of paper like a sponge above his mouth and let a few drops fall, wetting his parched, cracked lips. At first, he gurgles and sputters, trying to adjust. After a moment, he regains his bearings and allows the water to flow into his mouth. With my free hand, I stroke his cheek gently with my thumb.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” I whisper.

  Once the water is gone, I adjust my NanoTech jacket over his body for optimal warmth. Though it’s hot outside, the cavern’s temp is far cooler. I look around for clues, or possibilities on how to release him. The chains and shackles look like they’ve grown directly out of the stone wall and have no discernible way to remove them from the rocky encasement. I have no tools, or weapons to help in any way.

  I fold the damp page and cram it into my trouser pocket, in case I need it—after all, it could still be important. Perhaps when the little boy’s rested, I’ll be able to get some information from him. I rest my back against the stone wall and stroke the boy’s face gently until my eyes feel droopy.

  “I’ll close my eyes with you…just for a minute,” I whisper.

  Tilting my head back, I settle in, allowing sleep to take me over. As odd as it may be, it’s nice to have someone else with me. Someone else to focus on. My hand stills beside the boy’s face and something about his presence eases me into a relaxation I haven’t felt since I left Traeton.

  “You’re very beautiful,” a voice whispers in the darkness.

  “Thank you,” I say, accepting the compliment without a fight.

  “You should have been told before now. I wish I could have reached you sooner.”

  “I’m not sure I—” I say, trying to understand where I am and who’s speaking.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you, but it’s been so hard. I keep forgetting how.”

  “Who are you? Why have you been trying to reach me?” I ask, still listening only to the sound of the voice.

  “I…I don’t know,” the voice says, “I’ve been in this dark for so long. Then there was you.”

  “Me?” I ask. It seems such an odd thing to say, because I’ve always been right here. Or have I?

  “Yes, as though you’ve been here all along, but I just couldn’t find you,” the voice reasons.

  “Well, I’m here now. Is there more you need from me? Was there a reason you’re here?” I say. There’s something about the voice. It makes me feel as though I’ve heard it before. Or as though I should know the person on the other end.

  “Yes, there is,” the voice says, “At least, I think there was. I—I can’t remember.”

  “You can’t remember?”

  This is the strangest conversation I’ve had in a long time. I’m not sure what to make of anything. It’s almost like when you know there’s something important you want to remember, or perhaps tell someone—but you can’t hold onto the information long enough to relay it.

  “Hello?” Silence meets my question and I ask again, “You can’t remember?”

  “Don’t wait too long…” the voice finally echoes. Then, it’s gone.

  I wake up with a jolt.

  My neck aches from the odd angle I must have slept in and the boy’s head still rests in my lap. I watch his body rise and fall with his shallow, but labored breaths. He doesn’t have much time. Reaching out, I pick up one of his small hands, turning it over so I can get a better look at the underside of his restraints.

  “How on Pendomus did they get these on you?” I whisper to myself.

  I run my thumb over the underside and though there’s nothing to see, I distinctly feel an indentation.

  Shifting to get a closer look, I run my fingertip across the indent again as I lean in.

  The Salamander made a remark about my vision—about it not being returned. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it because I could see just fine. I even saw the key’s importance in the well-like area. But now…I wonder if she’s right. What if there’s something here and I simply can’t see it?

  The boy stirs, sighing, and reaching out to me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, setting his arm down and focusing on him.

  “Mmmm…yeah,” he nods.

  “You can speak,” I say. It’s not a question, but a statement. In my experience, it means something. Mostly, that he’s unique. Or he’s lived away from the Helix.

  “Do you know who did this to you?” I ask, stroking the top of his head.

  “No, woke up like this… Dunno how long ago. Feels like ages. Everything hurts,” he croaks.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do more to help,” I say, “My name’s Runa, by the way.”

  The boy tilts his head, as he tries to peer at me through his swollen eyes.

  “Ammon,” he finally says, “that’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you Ammon.”

  His stomach growls loudly and mine joins in for good measure.

  “Do you have any food?” Ammon’s voice is soft, but clear.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I was hoping to find something—or figure out— ”

  “How can you not have food?” Ammon interrupts.

  “I…I just don’t,” I stammer, reali
zing I don’t have a great answer for him without making it sound like I’m insane.

  “How’d you end up here?” he asks.

  “I was sorta…uhm…led here, I guess. I was out in the heat and needed shelter.”

  “Heat?” Ammon says indignantly.

  “Yeah. We’re on the desert side of the planet, Ammon. Didn’t you know?”

  He shakes his head softly, “No.”

  “Where are you from?”

  He purses his lips, “I don’t think I should tell you. It’s supposed to be a secret.”

  I laugh, because in a sense, where I come from now is too.

  “Okay, then I’ll start. I used to live in the Helix, but I left because things weren’t working out so well for me there. I’ve got friends in a hidden place deep in a cavern—much like this one, actually.”

  “I never lived inside the Helix, but know about it. We live in a cavern like this, too. I thought it was the same one. Thought maybe one of my friends did this to be funny. But…it wasn’t them.”

  My lips tug downward. “I’m sorry, Ammon. Who does this sort of thing to another person? Not to mention, if you’re from the Helix side of the planet, we’ve traveled a good distance.”

  “How far are we from the Helix, do you think?”

  “I honestly couldn’t even say,” I admit. I’ve traveled for days and seen nothing but sand and rocks.

  “Did you end up here like I did? Could it have been the same way? The same person?”

  “Maybe? But I doubt that, too. I was somewhere else, then I was here. However, I was in a place I trusted. And I kinda—well, I kinda expected to be somewhere new when I left.”

  He nods, as if what I say makes complete sense and isn’t as crazy as it sounds out loud.

  “Look, regardless of how we got here, we have each other now,” I say, “I’m not going to leave you. We’ll find a way to get you out and find food. Okay?” I say, trying to give him more hope than I actually have at this particular moment.

  “Okay.”

  Ammon pulls back on his restraints and the chains dangle from the cavern face. He swallows hard and frowns.