Ammon’s eyes widen.
“Don’t worry,” I say, “I’ll keep you safe. I wouldn’t have brought you if I didn’t think we could protect ourselves. Unfortunately, I think we’ll need your abilities at some point.”
Ammon straightens his shoulders, “I know. This is just a lot to take in, ya know?”
“I do,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But we got this.”
I smile at him, and turn to Tethys. Her energy is peaceful, and calm. At least on some level, she agrees with what I’m doing. That gives me a boost of encouragement, because I know what I’m about to do won’t be popular with anyone else. Delaney and the team won’t be pleased. Landry will think it was completely reckless. When Trae finds out, he’ll come looking for us—
Running my hands along the side of Tethys’ neck, and to her shoulder, she leans into me. She’s been through so much as well and she seeks a time of peace. For so long, Pendomus has been in complete disarray. The Four Pillars—AirGliders, TerraDwellers, Salamanders—and even my beautiful Waterbear—the last of her kind. None of them ever wanted any of this.
I may never understand Videus’ motives, but I do know it’s time to set things right.
“Come on,” I say, taking Ammon’s hand.
Tethys snorts, but releases her shield, leaving us exposed to the elements and in full view of the Helix. Moving quickly, we make it to the obscured doorway as it blends into the building.
Ammon puts his hand out in front of him, and gently pulls it back toward his body. The door unlatches of it’s own accord and swings open from the wrong side.
“Whoops,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “Still getting used to metals. Mechanisms are hard.”
“We could have just opened the door. They aren’t locked,” I laugh.
“Oh,” Ammon’s face falters. “How was I meant to know that?”
“It’s okay,” I laugh, messing up his hair. “Just wait for my signal next time. You’re in my territory now.”
The sterile fumes of the hallway assault my senses—and for the first time, it reminds me of the stench of death and decay.
“Ugh,” Ammon says, holding his nose. “Do you smell that?”
I nod.
“Why does it smell like rotten meat?” he asks, keeping his hand in place.
“I’d never noticed that before—but you’re right.”
My eyes search the quiet corridor as we enter slowly. The backlighting flickers softly, almost imperceptibly. Everything is silent, too quiet. If I wasn’t aware of the time of day, I’d almost be worried they knew we were here. But this is top production time and everyone has to be productive.
The weirdest part of this trip is the lack of new information coming at me. Before I went into the Tree of Burden, my eLink connection would have been triggered walking into the Helix. But the passage into the portal destroyed its relay. In a strange sort of way, I feel like a ghost—able to walk these halls without a constant barrage of information streaming my way.
Luckily, I’m still able to access any of the downloads I’d been privy to before I left because they’re stored in memory.
I walk quickly, with purpose, knowing Ammon is right behind me. I keep my mouth shut, but direct him instead with a hand gesture as we turn down a side corridor to the right. The long tunnels seem to go on forever and for someone who’s never been inside, it would be so easy to get lost. They all look the same.
Meters away from the doorway leading to the lower level, the influx from a checkpoint flickers like waves across the entrance. In the past, I could roam these hallways fairly unabashed, thanks to the eLink in my brain. Whenever you get within a couple meters, it would log you in and allow you to pass. Shutting down all the security features and disabling the shield. But now—
Ammon must notice my hesitation, because he grabs hold of my hand and squeezes. As I turn to him, his eyebrows are knit together in worry.
I bend in, whispering, “This is a checkpoint. If we go through without at least one of us actively connecting to the eLink, the forcefield will slice us into plaid chunks. The doorway we need to take is on the other side.”
“Of course it is,” he exhales. “Please tell me you have a plan.”
“Of course I do,” I breathe. It’s a lie, kind of.
I know we have to act quickly, before any of the heat sensors or cameras trigger a warning of us. Seconds maybe.
“Why don’t you use your Daughter of Five mental connection thingy to distract the system?” Ammon suggests.
I shake my head, “I don’t think that’s how it works. I’ve only ever connected to living things.”
“Well, how do you know unless you try? Isn’t that what you said to me about the metal bending?”
My eyebrows flick upward. He’s right, I did say that.
“Let’s give it a go,” I say, nodding.
Ammon turns toward the checkpoint, his eyes wide and watchful.
I close my eyes, trying to envision the inner workings of the checkpoint. The electrical connections, the lines of communication that bring its signals to the main hub in security. Oddly enough, the sensations take hold and instinct takes over. Manipulating the electrical currents and information from the Helix’s mainframe system isn’t all that unlike digging around inside a mind.
The currents of it feel alive, as alive as any brain or creature I’ve connected with so far. Suddenly, the data breaks off, separating into strings of code. Though I’ve never looked at code in my life, I know I can mold it—shape the information to read what I want it to. See what I want it to see. And it’s not just this checkpoint, either. They’re all connected.
For a split second, I push the details I need into the code. Asking it to flip into routine maintenance, pulling down the shield, pausing the live feed cameras and sensors, and allowing us to pass unnoticed.
I hear a soft mechanical sound hum and come to a stop as the shield across the hallway dissipates.
Turning to Ammon, I grab his hand and without a word, we make for the doorway across the checkpoint. I don’t know how long it will hold—seconds, minutes…but whatever it is, I know we need to cross before it flips back.
I hold my breath as we cross the threshold, half expecting something to give us away. When it doesn’t, I race with Ammon to the Crematorium’s stairwell door. It’s unmarked, and barely noticeable if one wasn’t aware of its existence. There’s no label. No sign saying Crematorium. There’s not even a handle.
Instead, there are small markings etched on the right hand side. I’m suddenly aware of how similar the etchings and unlocking mechanism are to the chains that shackled Ammon to the cavern.
I place my hand on the markings and push once on the bottom, once on the top, then twice in the middle. Before our eyes, the door dissolves and the stairway unfurls before us. It’s an oddly ornate spiral staircase, leading straight down, rather than the typical forward descent. The lighting changes from the sterile, cool backlit light of the Helix hallways to a more warm, natural golden light. Under other circumstances, I would have loved it. But here, inside the Helix and where we’re heading—it’s ominous.
On the walls are strange etchings and framed body parts, with temperatures marked along side them.
“What’s with all the creeptastic decorations?” Ammon asks, mirroring my sentiment.
“Pretty sure they’re meant as a subtle reminder about how long it takes everything to burn,” I say, taking a tentative step into the stairwell.
“Yeck,” Ammon mutters, sticking out his tongue.
Behind us, the doorway seals itself with a soundless shift. Amber darkness falls upon us and turns my stomach as the cool light is extinguished.
We walk slowly, refusing to touch anything unnecessary, including the railings. The lights begin to switch from warm electrical to full-on wall torches. I can’t tell if they’re holograms meant to look that way—or if they really are fire. Either way, it doesn’t bode well.
The descent takes us a couple of l
evels down—to an open landing. It’s not very big—ten meters by ten meters, maybe.
The walls are thankfully blank, but remind me of the place we entered when we found the blood ice sculptures. I glance over at Ammon.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says.
I nod, walking into the landing and trying to assess what to do next. There are three walls and the stairway where we came. It appears to be a dead end, but I know better. This is the way. But for some reason, there’s more security protocols happening. Perhaps since I left. Maybe it’s always been this way. I don’t know.
I squint, trying to access the part of my memory that dealt with the direction of the Crematorium. Closing my eyes, I start on the left-hand side. I reach out with my left hand, running it along the blank walls as I walk in slow, deliberate steps.
“Runa, what are you doing? Shouldn’t we be looking for a way outta here, not wiping your fingerprints all over the place?” Ammon says, getting nervous.
“Ammon, I need you to use your abilities. Sense which one of these walls is a holographic mirage.”
“How do you mean?” he asks, stepping into the landing and walking forward.
“In order to move the rocks, you have to sense them, right? Dig deep into their makeup? Well, one of these walls isn’t real. We need to figure out which one so we can understand how to go through it,” I say.
Ammon shakes his head, blowing out a puff of air.
“Well, I’ve never had to do something like this before, but I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” I say, continuing to feel the stones with my hand as I walk along the walls.
I try to sense with my hands which is the fake one, but they all feel the same to me. Solid.
Ammon closes his eyes. For a moment, his expression going completely blank—almost peaceful. Then he tips his head to the side.
“Strange,” he says.
“What is?” I ask, walking to him.
“All of them are fake.”
“How do you know?” I ask, taking in the space around us.
He shakes his head, “None of them feel real. Like you said, when I go to move them, it’s like I’m a part of the rocks. Like they’re an extension of my hand or something. These, though—they feel like air. Tuffs of nothingness in the middle of long arms extending outward. Except that one.”
He points to the wall directly in front of the stairway, “That one feels like it’s close.”
“I don’t think I follow you. Long arms? Close? Shouldn’t they all be close?” I ask.
“No, no. The two on the side feel like they’re different. Unworldly. Long arms or tunnels reaching out in opposite directions. Like they burrow through the planet as far as I’ve ever reached out to, anyway. I can’t tell you where they lead. But the one in front. That’s the one connected to this place,” he says, opening his eyes.
“Okay, well, we’ll have to figure the ‘arms’ out later, if we can. For now, we need to stay focused on why we came here,” I say stepping forward toward the wall Ammon believes is connected to the Helix.
Everything about it is the same. It looks like it’s a solid wall made of concrete, or stone. To the touch, there’s nothing that stands out. Nothing that makes me believe we should be able to go through it.
“What if we try to walk through it? Remember that wall in the Archives? You were able to go through that,” Ammon suggests.
I shake my head, “That was different. It was a part of the trial. Besides, do you remember how you weren’t allowed through? This feels solid to me. There, the wall didn’t. I could tell I could go through it.”
“Bummer. Well, I got nothin’. I can’t move it aside because it’s not there,” he says, scratching his scalp. The dark hair is growing out to the point where his blonde roots are making more of an appearance. It’s been weeks since I found him in that cave, and I’m amazed at how quickly he’s filled out and his hair has grown. He looks so much healthier now. And a lot more like me.
“Maybe we need a key?” I say. “The Archives usually needs a key to move the wall aside. And there have been others. Maybe I’m missing something in my memory downloads.”
Then it hits me.
The Crematorium badge they’d tried to hand me when they’d offered me the professional appointment. I’m so stupid. I left it behind. When I was told I’d be a Cremator, I walked out without a second thought. I can still recall the badge sitting on the counter as I left.
“Oh no—what have I done?”
“What?” Ammon asks. “Why are you ‘oh noing’? C’mon, there’s no time for ‘oh noing’,” he says, his voice cracking slightly.
“There’s a badge. Everyone with professional appointments has one. I should have remembered—I should have…” I say, shaking my head. “Think Runa, think.”
“Better think fast. I don’t want to get stuck down here,” Ammon says. “You know nothing good’s gonna come from that.”
“Maybe I can manipulate the inner workings again? If it’s a badge, there’s a mechanism, right? That means there has to be a connection to something.”
Once again, I close my eyes and try to find a connection to the doorway—hoping the same principles will apply to this security feature.
Behind my eyelids, the code in the workings begins to stream—but nothing makes sense. It’s all garbled nonsense. I’m not able to catch anything to focus on or stop it long enough to manipulate it. I sit with it for as long as it’s comfortable.
Pulling back from the connection, I open my eyes. Before me is Ammon, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Told you nothing good,” he says.
My eyes shift beyond him to the two Salamanders climbing the walls and heading toward us.
And the man beyond them, with the Ibis headdress.
4
Runa
WHY COULD I NOT HEAR AMMON calling to me? Was I really so focused on the inner workings of the doorway? I tug his arm, dragging him to me as I position myself in front.
“It appears we keep meeting in the most opportune ways,” Videus says, drawing his words out slowly and deliberately.
“And so far, how’s that worked out for you?” I spit.
I bite my lip, my mind racing through scenarios of how I could get us out of this mess. We’re trapped like animals down here—with no perceivable way out—at least not yet. Not without some time.
Videus considers for a moment, walking silently forward, “This is true. I keep running into you, yet you keep managing to slip away. We’ll have to remedy that.”
“Let Ammon go. It’s me you want,” I say, trying to be reasonable.
It’s true, though. Videus has always been after me. Everything he’s done has been to track me down, or try to coerce me out.
A bubble of laughter erupts from Videus’ throat.
“My dear Runa, always the sweet, docile saint, trying to protect others. But we’ve been over this before. Why would I let him go when I have you already? The two of you together is a far better prize than simply the Daughter of Five alone.”
Roaming closer, Videus’ dark cloak sways ominously, caressing the floor. I force myself to look up into the place where his face should be. I take a breath, reminding myself the pool of blood hiding his face is simply a hologram—just like the walls around us. It’s not real. Beneath it, somewhere, is a real man. A sick, twisted man—but a man nonetheless.
I take a deep breath, unafraid of the creatures beside him. If there’s one thing the trials I’ve passed changed, it was my perception of all of the creatures of Pendomus. They’re held as captive as I am. Besides, if I can reach them—I may tip the scales.
Keeping my eyes open and centered on Videus, I extend my consciousness out to the Salamanders. Almost like sending out feelers, I touch the edges of their minds, trying to find a way in. Unfortunately, they’re able to block me out. I turn my attention to Videus, attempting the same thing. His mind, however, is like an underground vault. Impe
netrable.
“Don’t bother, Everblossom. Do you think I wouldn’t have taken precautions after all this time? After the many times we’ve been through this dance. I’ve been preparing for this for ages. Far longer than anyone has ever anticipated any confrontation throughout the dawn of time,” he says, waving his hand and taking another step closer.
“Are you going to actually do something, or are you just going to talk us to death?” I say, defiance building in me.
This has gone on for far too long. I feel my powers rising, my abilities getting stronger. But more than that, I no longer question who I am. Or what I’m doing and why.
“Runa—I don’t think it’s wise to taunt the creepy guy in the cape. Do you?” Ammon says, tugging at my arm.
I feel his trepidation. I know what this looks like to him. But the feeling I had before we came hasn’t left me. This is all part of the process somehow. This capture.
I need to lean into it and see where it leads.
Videus takes a step closer—his face inches from mine. As he leans in, I focus on the way the blood dripping from his Ibis headdress flows downward. As he bends in, the droplets fall, exploding into red splatters as they hit the floor.
Surprised, I suck in a breath.
“Oh, the things I plan to do to you, dear Everblossom. Dying is too easy. No, there are bigger plans for you and we’re going to have to get started,” he says, waving his hand out in front of him.
The walls around us vanish, unveiling the three pathways. Ammon was right—to the right and left, dark tunnels appear with no apparent end. Turning around, behind us are enormous metallic double doors with rivets the size of my fist. With the flick of Videus’ wrist, the doors open wide.
Intense heat rolls toward us, thrusting against us like a wall all its own. It’s not a wet heat, instead it’s a dry, smoldering heat that immediately parches my lips and leaves me thirsty.
The Salamanders, edge forward, sliding off the walls and surrounding us. Their movement is intended to make us move, but both Ammon and I hold our ground.
“You’ve grown brave, Daughter of Five. It’s almost a pity it won’t last. Now, move,” Videus says, his voice turning gruff.
The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series Page 51