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

by Carissa Andrews

  “Don’t you think that’s scary, though? I mean, whatever it was—it was bad. Like, way bad,” Kani whispers. “Do you know when Fenton’s supposed to be back?”

  I make a face before I can stop myself, then try to recover, “You know, I’m not sure—”

  “What was that?” she asks, pointing at my face.

  “What was what?” I ask, innocently.

  “Don’t give me that shit, Traeton. What was the wince for?”

  I don’t honestly know why Landry didn’t tell Kani about Fenton. To me, it feels like something that could seriously come back to bite us in the ass. Especially if she finds out it was something we kept from her.

  I press my fingertips to my mouth, waging an internal civil war.

  “Spit it out, Trae. Don’t make me get my knives,” she says.

  Again, I wince without trying. Her eyes narrow further.

  On the upside, when everything went down, she handled it. I can’t say it was easy, but knowing she was the one who put a stop to Fenton didn’t throw her over the edge.

  “Look Kani, I’m sure Landry had his reasons—” I start.

  Kani opens her mouth to protest, but I hold a finger up, silently asking her to allow me to finish.

  My right temple throbs, and I place a finger to it, pushing in hard. My vision feels off—as though it’s gone almost telescopic.

  “We—we struggled with,” I start again, “Fenton wasn’t meant to…”

  As if shifting from the front seat of my mind, to the forgotten and unused back seat, I witness myself continuing. But oddly, I’m acutely aware that I’m no longer the driver of the bus.

  My neck crooks to the side briefly, as if stretching itself into new bones.

  “The yellow-haired boy is gone,” I hear myself say.

  I can see through my eyes, hear the words and my surroundings, but as much as I struggle, I’m not in control. Everything is tinted an odd wilted color, as if all hues are slowly being leached out.

  “Yellow-haired boy?” Kani snickers. “What the hell, Trae? Why are you being so cryptic? This isn’t funny.”

  “You put an end to his life,” my hand reaches forward, tapping the knife strapped to her thigh.

  Kani’s face goes from open, to irritated, to horror in a few microseconds.

  “What are you talking about?” Kani whispers, her eyes distant as she tries to hunt for information in her clouded memories.

  “Truth,” I hear myself say, “and now we need to get you to the Helix to rectify it.”

  Tears well in Kani’s eyes as she tries to reprocess this new information. I want to break out of this mental cage, reach for her. Tell her everything is okay. Tell her this isn’t me—it’s not how I’d handle it. I want to tell her it wasn’t her fault and no one blames her. Inside, I’m screaming all of it—but it doesn’t seem to matter at all. I’m completely locked out of myself.

  How in the hell did this happen? And what do I do now?

  “I knew there was something I was forgetting. I could feel it, down deep. I just didn’t think it was this—” Kani says, tears steadily streaming now. “I remember now—the Tree. The fight. Oh god—”

  She didn’t even cry the first time.

  Why hasn’t she slapped me? Or told me to go to hell? Why isn’t Kani fighting?

  Kani—don’t you dare let this slide. Don’t lose the spark. You have to fight this. Fight me. Everything is all wrong, and you’re the only one who can stop it! Can’t you tell this isn’t me?

  I scream in my head, trying to force my way out. Force my thoughts to spill into words.

  “There is nothing you can do now. We need to get to the Helix. Then we can sort everything out,” my voice says.

  Kani takes a moment, allowing the sadness to consume her, before she sits up a bit straighter.

  “Alright. You’re right, Trae. Let’s find the Vassalage and put an end to this,” Kani says. “Who cares how we get in. Without Fenton, none of it matters anyway.”

  “Very well,” I hear myself say.

  Her eyebrows pull in, and she makes a face.

  “Can you knock off the stoic crap. I get what I did hurt you, too. So this should make you happy,” she says.

  “I very much doubt there’s anything you can do or say that will make amends.”

  Kani takes a deep breath.

  “I suppose not.”

  Whoever—or whatever—has possession of me stops to take a beat. It’s an awkward kind of silence, and annoying at the lack of control I have. It’s as if there’s a wall between whatever it is and me. I sense they’re in here running the show, but I can’t hear their thoughts or interact at all. It’s as though I’m enclosed in a panic room where no sound I make can escape—and nothing from their side can enter.

  After a moment, I hear myself say, “Let us go to the Helix. We shall worry about the rest later.”

  Stumped for a moment at the almost calm and detached manner my captor is delivering, I wait for the next shoe to drop. Instead, I start to feel an enclosing sensation—as if the box I’m in is being shut. I can’t tell if it’s a deliberate door being closed, or if it’s simply the way things work when you’re not in charge of your own mind. Before I have the opportunity to travel that train of thought, everything goes completely dark.

  Self-awareness is a tricky thing. I never questioned it well enough before. I didn’t know my actual consciousness was separate from my body until being forced to take a back seat. Who would, I suppose?

  It feels like ages since I was last attached to anything. Sometimes this nothingness is overwhelming and I have to escape. I have to find a new home. If I don’t find an attachment somewhere, I know I’ll go mad. I have to be—Something.

  Maybe I’ve already lost my damn mind.

  There are moments…moments when I feel connected, other times when I feel so very lost. Without my body, I keep slipping out of self-recognition. Like I’m melding into a universal energy. Or maybe I’m just being erased. Maybe both.

  As hard as I try, I can’t always hold on. Sometimes, I relax into the abyss and let go. Who knows how long it’s been. Then, something always pulls me back. I don’t know why. Could be myself, hunting for a way back in. To take back control. Or maybe it’s just the way a soul searches until it’s able to inhabit a body. I don’t know anymore.

  Glimpses of speaking with Runa—finding her beside a fire in the dead of night rushes into my mind and it pulls me from my slumber in the abyss. I can’t tell if the conversation with her was real or an illusion. I guess I’m not sure of anything anymore. I just know I needed to feel safe. I needed to be home. Then, magically, there she was. I could see her as if I was standing right beside her. How does that work? Am I a ghost?

  I never gave much thought to ghosts before, but I suppose it’s as good a description as any. I keep forgetting who I am. Where I am. What I am. Did I think that already?

  See what I mean?

  A tug slowly pulls me from the darkness of the abyss, drawing me closer to the forefront of consciousness. Once again, I regain a sense of purpose. I regain some of my orientation, even if only momentarily. These are the moments I cling to, otherwise, what else is there?

  Like waking up groggy, I can suddenly see through my own eyes—but I’m still not in the driver’s seat. Whoever’s taken over my body still has control. Either they’ve granted me awareness, or I’ve somehow found a way back to myself.

  Either way, the situation is now the same. I’m locked out of my own body, and watching the world through a viewer’s eyes only.

  Almost as if pushing my way through a series of satin curtains, I finally understand my surroundings. No longer in the Lateral, instead, I’m nearing the Helix. By my side is Kani.

  Her lips are moving, but my senses haven’t caught up yet—I have no idea what she’s saying.

  Dread pours into my awareness, and I realize she’s trusting someone—she’s trusting me on a mission that will not have the results we origina
lly intended. For all I know, it’s Videus himself who’s taken over my body. He did it with Fenton, after all.

  How the hell does Kani not realize?

  Pieces of my personality, my passions, the simple way I am start to thread back into my being and I feel more complete than I have for a long time. Almost as though, I have a chance at taking myself over again.

  I focus intently, trying to get an idea of what’s happening. Of what Kani’s even saying. Locked out of my own body is a torture I never imaged enduring. Especially when you can see the imminent threats, but can’t hear or speak to warn anyone.

  Oh my god. I’m trapped in my own body.

  The realization slams against me with such force, I feel I’d be knocked over if I was actually the one standing.

  “Kani, Kani—you need to get away. You can’t trust him—uh, me. You need to go,” I scream in my head.

  It’s no use, there’s no voice to connect it to.

  I watch as my own hand points to the main access point of the Helix, the doorway on the side of the building.

  They aren’t going to just walk up to the Helix, are they?

  Memories flood my consciousness—though I’m not sure how that even works. But we were looking for the Vassalage. I can tell you, whoever’s using my body isn’t doing it for the fun of it. Or to help Kani find the Vassalage. They’re leading her to something far more nefarious.

  Suddenly, it occurs to me. All this time, all the headaches—the blackout at the Archives.

  Holy shit.

  Did I attack Kani? Well, not me—but whoever this thing is? No, it can’t be—can it?

  How long has this been happening?

  I search my memories, but they’re dark. Abyss dark.

  As quickly as it came, the awareness to my body slips away again. Darkness descends, consuming everything as I lose grasp on everything I’m clinging to.

  Remember this thought process, Trae. Hang onto it.

  Remember.

  22

  Runa

  ENERGY SPARKS IN MY HANDS as I open them wide. Without overthinking it, I embrace the surge, allowing it to wash over me like a collective storm. Turning around, Ammon and I face Videus again.

  For the second time, I come face to face with the man himself. His bird-inspired headdress once again shields us from his face, and he’s alone, for now. A solitary man, dressed in blacks and reds and in deep contrast with the snow outside. His cloak drapes majestically over his shoulders and caresses the ground.

  Alone, and dressed this way, he doesn’t look as intimidating as he did taking over Fenton. Or even as he did in the cavern where I found Ammon. Instead, he looks as though he could be easily overwhelmed under our capabilities.

  Perhaps I could end this. Right here, right now?

  There are a great many things I’ve been in the past—naive, inexperienced, incapable. Now doesn’t feel like one of those moments. The travels I’ve been through, the things I’ve seen so far—they’ve all led me to a place where I know I can make a difference. If Videus thinks he’ll take me or Ammon without a fight—well, he’s in for a rude awakening.

  Ammon stands straighter, his shoulders mimicking my own. Whatever I feel or think about my new sibling revelation, I’m so happy he’s here. And proud to have him by my side. I know what he’s capable of, and I hope we can use that knowledge to our advantage.

  “I’m going to take a wager and guess you understand more of where you fit into all this,” Videus starts, his usual toying manner, as he tries to put us on edge.

  Without a doubt, his minions won’t be far behind and if we’re to make a difference, we have to strike fast.

  “It’s starting to make sense,” I say, matching his passive, nonchalant tone.

  “Oh, I highly doubt that,” he mocks.

  His voice reminds me of something, though I can’t put my finger on exactly what. It’s a strange combination of tech and humanity. But it’s almost lost between the two.

  I feel the power of this place coursing through my veins. It could be coincidence. Or it could be truly the connection I have to all these people. The bloodlines.

  Turning to Ammon, I swear he feels it too. His eyes are glowing again with a bright, five petaled everblossom.

  “Well, if there’s more I should know, feel free to enlighten me,” I say, calmer than I should.

  Videus watches us silently for a moment. Perhaps sizing the situation up. Perhaps biding his time.

  “What makes you so special?” he finally asks.

  “You should know,” I say. “It’s because of you the Daughter of Five prophecy even came into being.”

  Videus waves a hand dismissively.

  “I don’t care about old literature and misunderstood dialogues.”

  “Then what do you care about? What in the hell does any of this matter?”

  “It wasn’t personal, you know. But now— You think everything should magically work for you, don’t you? That the world revolves around what you think and do. But I’d like to know why you think you could possibly save any of them.”

  “Any of who?”

  “Humanity. Your friends. Your brothers. Take your pick.”

  Involuntarily I flinch at brothers and clutch the Caudex to my body.

  Pulling Ammon behind me, I step forward, “My brothers are none of your business.”

  Videus laughs. His deep, near maniacal chuckle.

  “Oh, Runa. Dear, disturbed, confused Runa. It’s been my sole purpose to make your brothers my business,” he says.

  For the first time since he arrived, a shudder creeps up my spine.

  “I thought your sole purpose was to screw up the planet. To mess with the natural order of things,” I spit.

  “Yes, of course you would see it that way,” he says, taking to a slow, deliberate pace in front of us.

  “What else should I be thinking?”

  “I’d expect nothing more of you, Daughter of Five. Still so naive. So unobservant. Everything I’ve done has always been for a sole purpose. For one desire and one desire only,” Videus says, turning to me and getting right up into my space.

  He’s inches from my face, but I hold my ground, peering into his mask’s bloody face. I wish I could see what’s really hidden behind it. Look into the face of the man who hates me so much. Hates us all.

  “To control all of humanity,” I say.

  Taking a step back, Videus snorts.

  “Humanity is not my concern. Not in the least. It’s a means to an end, that’s all,” he says. “No, ironically, my desire is exactly as yours. So why should you matter? Why should your desires trump my own? Why should you be offered salvation, or the opportunity to save your brothers when I have never been able to save my own?”

  His words linger in the air. A strange mixture of truth and trepidation.

  For the first time since I left the Helix—since I started this journey, I feel as though Videus has been honest. Exposed.

  He’s lost his brother, and this is what’s become of him.

  Suddenly, the ground beneath Videus begins to rumble. Confused, I look for the source of the commotion—and find Ammon focusing on the ground with his eyes, his hands splaying open. I’ve seen this look before.

  “What are you—?” I begin, but before I can finish my sentence, the ground splits, opening up a crevasse of split rocks around Videus’ feet.

  Videus stumbles, straddling the broken fragments of earth as they break apart in large chunks, shifting forward and back—upward and down. I watch him intently, surprised by his own humanity. His natural ability to be hurt, or lose his balance. It doesn’t seem like something he should be capable of.

  Ammon’s hands fly outward, and with it, the stones beside Videus’ feet open up into a chasm. For a split second, I swear, Videus is completely caught off guard as he tries to regain his balance without falling in.

  I try to shake off my own surprise, but instead, realize what Ammon’s done is the absolute right thing.
I let my guard down and Videus was toying with it. I let him appeal to my own humanity and it could cost both of us our lives. What was I thinking? He probably wasn’t even telling the truth. Just luring me in until I couldn’t act.

  Inhaling, I join in, commanding the power and energy I felt moments before. I allow the presence of the bloodlines to meld into me as I pull on their weight and send the snow and sculptures crashing inward. They meld into one powerful, crimson snow serpent, throwing Videus aside as though he was composed of nothing more than air.

  The blood serpent pushes him down, forcing him into the opening Ammon’s created. Within microseconds, Videus reclaims his composure—commanding some power of his own as he bursts into flames and disappears before the chasm can collect him.

  Stepping back, I release my connection and the serpent bursts into a flurry of red flakes that blanket the ground.

  Ammon slams his hands together, closing the chasm.

  Turning to him, I say, “Thank you, Ammon. I—I don’t know why I hesitated.”

  “Because he knows what makes you tick,” Ammon says. “That’s what makes him so dangerous.”

  For a child, he understands more about people and their motivations than I ever have. I don’t know if it’s the difference in his upbringing, being raised in the Lateral—or the fact he was Videus’ captive for so long.

  I nod, “You’re right. I just—I wasn’t expecting him to seem so—”

  “Normal?” Ammon finishes.

  “Yes, exactly. He’s always been so illusive—superhuman almost. As though he’s untouchable. I wasn’t expecting him to appeal to my humanity by showing his own.”

  “Well, whatever he’s done in the past is apparently not working. He’s gotta try something else, right?”

  “Yeah, probably,” I say. “We better get out of here. There’s no telling what’s on its way, or if he’ll be back to finish the job.”

  “Think you can command the snow like that again?” Ammon says, looking out over the vast sea of snow in front of us. We have two choices. Move through Videus’ building, or continue on through the landscape. It’s pretty clear which one Ammon’s chosen.