“No, I guess not.”
“Good,” he says, in a relieved sigh, “because if the thing started telling you it was a girl or boy…well, that would be weird. Then again, it’s kinda weird it told you there was food. Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it because that’s what we want?”
I scrunch my face and say, “On that note, we should get you to water and come up with a plan from there. Might be best to have you rest while I hunt for the food. You know, just in case.”
I’m tempted to call the water area the Oasis, like we did back at the Haven, but I resist the urge. Too many references to the Haven makes my heart constrict to the point of breathlessness and I can’t bear to deal with those emotions right now. The sooner I figure out what I’m meant to know—the sooner I’ll be back with my friends. At least, I hope.
“Wait—you’re not gonna leave me alone, are ya?” Ammon’s voice raises an octave.
“Well, I really think I—”
“Absolutely not. Nah uh,” Ammon shakes his head frantically. “Wherever you’re going, I’m going too.”
He weaves his tiny fingers through mine and squeezes. His vulnerability reminds me just how young he really is, regardless of his intelligence. I wasn’t even allowed to go outdoors at ten, so a part of me can relate to his neediness.
“Okay, it’s a deal,” I say, breathing out, “But it will mean getting some rest first and coming up with an escape plan as quickly as possible. Your body has been through a lot. We need to make sure you have strength to mend.”
“Right now, the only thing my body is worried about is the grumble going on in my belly,” he says.
“Well, with a little luck, we’ll be able to remedy that soon. I got the distinct impression there’s food nearby,” I say. Though, what makes me think that, I’m not sure. It’s not as though large fields of grass grow inside caves.
“I hope you’re right. I’m starving. Who knows how long I’ve been here, seems like forever. I miss the food from back at the Lat—” Ammon cuts himself off.
“Me too,” I say, nodding, “Wait a sec, were you going to say back at the…Lateral?”
Ammon bites his lip, wincing.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re from the Lateral, too. How on Pendomus did you get all the way out here?” I say.
“How do ya know about the Lateral?” Ammon asks, his voice suddenly full of suspicion.
“I’ve been there. I have friends who live there and now I sorta do, too,” I say, “What about you?”
“Who are your friends?” he asks.
“Landry and Fenton Tabet, Kani Ling…Trae Revasco.” I say, swallowing my heart with the final name.
Ammon considers for a moment, the hard lines of his pinched lips softening.
“Whatever ya say, Runa,” Ammon says, finally shrugging again. “So far your hunches have been pretty good. I guess I can trust ya one last time.”
“Thanks, kid,” I laugh, messing up his hair slightly. “Now come on, let’s get outta here. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Makes two of us,” he nods in agreement.
I put an arm under his shoulder and let him rest his weight against me as we hobble toward the water area the Salamander had brought me to. The trek takes much longer than when I was on my own, but Ammon does remarkably well, all things considered. His body is light, but awkward as we make our way. When we reach the water, I help him drop to his knees and he leans forward, cupping his hands much in the same manner I did earlier. He drinks the water in until his little belly has expanded outward. Then he crawls back, leaning his back against the cavern wall. Even with my NanoTech jacket over his shoulders, it has to be freezing.
“Isn’t that cold?” I ask, pointing to the rocky face behind him.
Ammon shakes his head.
“Can’t tell anymore. Been in here like this too long. It all feels the same to me,” he says, rocking his head from side to side.
The Caudex rests in the small nook I placed it in, a meter or so away from Ammon. Abruptly, its pages begin to burn brightly. The aquamarine stone around my neck tingles against my skin, a silent plea to push forward and have a look.
“Ah, what’s that sound?” Ammon asks, wiggling his pointer finger in the direction of the Caudex. “It’s like electricity or something?”
“It’s okay, just give me a second,” I say.
I walk over to the Caudex, then sit down cross legged in front of the large book. Placing the heavy tome across my lap, I wave the crystal in front of the lock. The ornate clasp disengages and the pages whirl open as light bursts from within.
I glance at Ammon’s worried face.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” I say, peering at him to see how much he’s able to take in.
“If you say so,” he shrugs. “Did you find a light or something?”
“Sort of,” I say.
Quickly, I hunt the pages, searching for whatever I’m meant to read—meant to know. Finally, I find what I’m looking for.
“My book, the one that I took a page out of,” I say, “it sometimes informs me of things. And by that I mean, almost like we’re having two-way communication. I know it sounds strange, but bear with me, okay?”
“Wish I had a book like that. Sounds cool.”
I smile. Kids can be so accepting.
I look at the page and read out loud.
THE FIVE TRIALS
When the time of renewal dawns, the Daughter of Five’s purpose shall be revealed in all its glory. She has been imbued with gifts that even she cannot fathom. In order for her to master her innate abilities and eventually take on the Creator, she must first be set to face her hopes and fears and overcome each of the Five Trials. Within these trials, she will find pieces to uncover her purpose, her gifts, and learn how to master them. As each is revealed, all will become clear. Upon completion of each trial, the symbol of accomplishment will be given.
Each will bring about its own unique challenges and will present themselves in whatever manner and order is deemed best by the state of her being at presented time. Within each trial, lies the lessons of the original inhabitants, imbued with love and trust that she will wield her power for the good of all.
One thing the Daughter of Five must remember: she is not alone in the control of this process. She must never lose sight or faith, or be lost to the world until she is ready.
“What does that even mean? Be lost to the world?” I say, looking up at Ammon.
His face is somewhat quizzical, “Are you kidding? Who’s this Daughter of Five? Oh wait, are ya saying—oh.”
“Yeah,” I say, sighing, “that would be me.”
“That’s so wicked,” he proclaims, a big grin spreading across his face. “It’s like you’re on a magical quest.”
“I don’t know how wicked it is, because I’m definitely confused. How will I know when I’m facing one of these trials? There’s absolutely nothing in here about what I’m going to be up against.”
“Yeah, not much other than to be prepared to be scared,” Ammon says, wiggling his fingers and pursing his lips like a fish. “How do you even know this stuff is about you?”
“Trust me, I know,” I say, returning my gaze to the Caudex.
“Well, how friggin’ awesome is it that you’re a part of some ‘big trial.’ I mean, I bet there’s even a prophecy that goes along with it,” he says, laughing. “Wait until I tell the guys back home that I got saved by some girl who’s like, infamous, or something.”
My eyes widen, but I can’t bring myself to say anything. Though I have no idea what the prophecy says, I know there is one, and I somehow play a key role. You can’t imagine what the weight of that feels like.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asks, turning his face my direction, “Don’t you think it’s great to be a part of something big like this?”
“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” I say, frowning. “Couldn’t I be tested on something nice? Silly things like learning how to finger weave
?”
“Who knows, maybe you will be,” Ammon says, sitting up straighter and taking on a sage-like stance, with his legs crossed. He tries to raise a prophetic eyebrow, “Tell me, young Runa, are you afraid of finger-weaving, my dear?”
I roll my eyes in response, but a smile cracks my lips. It’s good to have him here. If I’d been alone, I don’t think I’d take this news quite so lightly.
“What does the finger weaving symbolize for you? Look deep, my dear,” he says, trying to make his voice deeper than its ability to go. It cracks as he says my name, making us both laugh.
“Why do they always feel the need to be so cryptic?” I ask, rereading the passages, “And what’s this mean, ‘the symbol of accomplishment will be given?”
“Maybe they hand ya an award,” Ammon grins.
“Somehow, I doubt it. Maybe a crystal, or an object will be passed on? A door opens?” I say, fiddling with the aquamarine crystal at my neck. “Wouldn’t be completely unheard of. I have a crystal I wear with me at all times because of this.”
“Really?” he says, his mouth agape.
“I never completed something to get it, though. At least, I don’t think I did.”
It never occurred to me I might have completed some hidden initiation to find the stone. How far back could these trials go? Could I have been challenged by one already and just didn’t know? What if this stone was a symbol of accomplishment? Either way, the little blue crystal holds a special role in the path I’ve ended up on.
“So, what do ya want to do about this? I mean, can I help?”
“Ammon, I don’t have any idea what this means. Or how to—”
Light spills from the pages again, and scrolled across the brittle paper, as if written by an invisible pen, words appear.
It has been decided. Each of the five trials will take form in the basic elements as brought to life by the Daughter of Five.
The first is hunger. In order to truly know the essence of life, the Daughter of Five must face the deepest levels of the human body’s needs.
No sooner do I speak the words out loud, the cavern begins to shudder and Ammon whimpers.
“Uh, this isn’t good. We need to get outta here,” he says, trying to scramble to a vertical position.
I look down at the Caudex wanting to read on.
“Ammon, it’s just a tremor. Probably due to the volatility of this side of the planet,” I offer, trying not to overreact, “Even the Lateral was experiencing them not long ago.”
“No, this is not that. Trust me,” Ammon urges.
I sit up straighter, taking note of the edge in his voice.
“What do you mean? How do you know?” I demand, slamming the book shut.
“Because this happens every time he arrives.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle at the way he says the word he.
“You told me you never saw who brought you here,” I say, scrambling to my feet.
He smiles sheepishly, pointing at his swollen eyes, “Well, could ya see like this?”
“You lied to me,” I cry, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer.
“No, not lied. Not technically. I didn’t see him, but I didn’t have to,” he says.
“Ammon, it was an important question. Whoever brought you here could be someone extremely dangerous.”
My mind instantly goes to worst-case scenario.
Videus.
Who else would capture people on Pendomus for the intent of torture or deprivation? Humanity isn’t so sprawling here that there’d be more than one maniacal megalomaniac.
“C’mon,” I grab Ammon’s hand, and help him move forward. I’m not entirely sure where to go, but hope my instincts will guide us in the right direction. “Who is he? Do you know his name?”
“N—no,” Ammon says, trembling.
“What is he like?”
I pull Ammon behind me, trying to see in the darkness for a tunnel branch to take that isn’t easily visible off the main path. The further we get from the lit fires, the darker everything becomes until we are finally plunged into absolute, disorienting darkness.
“He’s strange, always breathing on me, getting close into my personal space,” Ammon says when I pull him into a small crevasse in the stone wall and force him to crouch, “He always wears a mask. I can tell because of the way his breath sounds when he’s close.”
“Ugh. Okay. Sit here and stay quiet. Not a peep, do you hear me?” I say, getting ready to go out and do some recon.
“Where are ya going?” Ammon squeals.
“I’m going to check to see if I can spot anything. I won’t be far. Trust me.”
Something in the sheer terror of the little boy’s stature tells me even if this isn’t Videus, whoever he is, he’s just as dangerous.
The rumbling of the tunnel gets louder and angrier before finally halting altogether.
“Not a word,” I breathe.
Ammon shudders beside me as we wait in utter silence. I haven’t even left his side when we hear it—footsteps.
They echo and reverberate off the walls of the cavern.
“He could not have vanished into thin air. Find him. In his condition, there’s no way he could have gotten far.”
The voice is distant, and muffled, just like Ammon said—but still eerily familiar and I listen more intently, trying to decide if it’s because it reminds me of Videus. It’s hard to tell, considering he used Fenton to speak to me before.
There’s no answer in reply, only a grunt and the continuing shuffle of footsteps.
Ammon clutches my arm tightly, cutting off the blood supply to my right hand. I place my left palm over his fingers, trying to reassure him.
“Check every side chute, every pathway out. The fire lights are lit for a reason. He’s here somewhere and I want him alive, for now,” the voice says.
A slithering sound shuffles past the small shaft leading to where we wait and my back stiffens.
Please go by. Please go by.
I repeat the mantra in my head, willing to find some way to hide us; keep us safe. For a moment, it works.
Then the Caudex bursts open, orange light spilling into the tunnel around us. I drop Ammon’s arm to hide the book and find a way to dampen the light as best I can.
“There—do you see the light? Check it out and report back immediately,” the voice says, commanding the silent partner.
The light of the Caudex goes out as I try to find a way to extinguish it, but it’s too late. A new light outside our tunnel grows brighter.
All too quickly, the slithering sound grows louder, until we’re face to face with the largest Salamander I’ve seen yet. Flames glow at the bottom of his feet and his body is as black as the deepest recesses of the cavern, but a large blue marking consumes half of his face and descends over his right shoulder and down his leg. For the briefest of moments, the Salamander tilts his head to the side, watching. Almost as if he’s as surprised to find us as we are to be found.
Ammon squeals, groping at my shoulder and trying to hide behind me. My heart races as I look for a way around the Salamander.
Orbs of light begin to dance around the Salamander, emerging from inside the stone walls, though he takes no notice at all. For a brief moment, I shake my head. Has my sight returned? Then an ear-piercing screech escapes the Salamander, an alarm sounding to call his master. He doesn’t move toward us, or try to capture us—he just simply screeches.
“Ammon, back up. Go back as far as you can,” I command, pushing him even further behind me.
The orbs of light move from the creature in front of us, spreading to both sides of the cavern, dancing a cold blue light against the warmth of the fire produced by the Salamander’s feet.
“Ahhh—” Ammon cries out behind me.
I whirl around to find we’re surrounded. Behind us, the enormous spider has returned, blocking us from retreating further—while the Salamander stands vigil in front of us.
A low, agitated g
rowl escapes the spider, who stomps forward angrily towards us.
Trapped between the two, I clutch at Ammon and the Caudex, which is still shining dimly between the clamped covers.
“What do we do?” Ammon squeals.
“I don’t know,” I say.
One way is most certainly death—the Salamander and the one controlling him. While the spider hasn’t yet attacked us, her angry stature is one I’m not about to challenge, either.
The spider growls again, stomping forward and pushing us even closer to the Salamander—flushing us out of the tunnel.
“What is it? What did you find?” the voice asks, coming up from behind the Salamander.
Ammon whimpers and I grip his small hand tightly. The man in front of us is dressed in some sort of black armor from head to toe, not at all dissimilar from the skin of the Salamander. Along the front breast plate is the only flash of color on his outfit—a snaking spiral of blue fire, which appears to be truly alight. I don’t have time to question the how’s or why’s however, because I can’t take my eyes off his face—or lack thereof.
He’s not wearing a mask. Not as such, anyway. Much like the Labots, this man’s face is completely missing—wiped clean of all features. Only, instead of a blank slate of skin, as they have, this man’s face is a running pool of blood. Atop his head is a large, extravagant headdress in the shape of the vulture-like birds that attacked us at the Tree of Burden. Blood flows from the mouth of the great bird, feeding the undulating surface where his face should be.
Though with no perceivable mouth, the man without a face says, “This trap could not have worked more perfectly. Do you know who you’ve just stumbled upon? You’ve just captured the infamous Daughter of Five. Most excellent work, Frunam.”
The man with the vulture atop his head walks forward, petting the Salamander in a strange, lovingly way, but never moving his face from our direction. His absence of gaze makes it beyond uncomfortable to look at him.
“I believe you have something of mine, my little Everblossom,” Videus says, “And I want him back.”
The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series Page 30