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

by Carissa Andrews

  6

  Runa

  I STAND IN HORROR, unsure which direction to go, or how to avoid any of this. Words wash off Videus like water, and my abilities don’t have any effect on him directly.

  “Take a seat, Everblossom,” Videus says, a scowl hidden in his words.

  I step backward awkwardly, taking a seat in the glass chair. Watching every move Videus makes, I focus on the dark color of his blood mask, and the contrast of him to the white light in this glass cube.

  “Alright, shall we get started then?” Videus says, his words taking an odd cadence as he holds his a’s slightly longer than he should.

  Swallowing my fear, I sit up straighter.

  “Not that you have a choice, mind you,” he laughs. “I will get what I need, one way or the other. So, please, test me. It’ll be so much more fun.”

  Out of nowhere, clear straps of energy arch over my wrists and ankles, binding me to the chair.

  I clench my jaw, and tighten my fists. I refuse to give Videus any satisfaction.

  “This is such important, and delicate work. Not meant for a man’s hands,” Videus begins, running his fingertips over the series of instruments and knives on the table. “I have important questions I need answered and I need assurances I’ll get the truth.”

  I lower my eyebrows, assessing every move.

  “I already said I’d cooperate. Now, let’s get on with it,” I spit.

  My anger to the injustice of it all runs in the undercurrent of my emotions. Anger Videus will torture me for whatever end, only he really knows. Anger he feels I’m somehow responsible for his suffering. Anger before I even knew who, or what I was, he was hunting me. Anger everything I thought was true has a ring of fantasy.

  My thoughts land briefly on Traeton. Will I ever be able to help him? To restore his mind? Was this plan to come here too half-cocked to be successful?

  Videus nods, the Ibis on top of his head bobbing slightly, “I know, but this is so much more fun.”

  He chuckles. It’s oddly comforting, and completely mortifying as it twists into something menacing. Suddenly, the door behind him opens.

  “Ah, just in time,” Videus says.

  Waving a hand, a Labot enters the enclosure. Her face is wiped—as they always are. Dressed in standard NanoTech, down to the boots on her feet. Her long black hair drapes down her back, with hints of green peeking through.

  “Kani—Kani, is that you?” I scream, without thinking.

  Videus chuckles, “I suppose to you she would be, yes. You should realize, she can’t hear you. The woman inside now is merely an instrument.”

  I glare at him, grinding my teeth and wishing I could make them both understand. But how would you ever help someone this insane understand? Or someone who’s mind is being controlled? Logic no longer applies.

  I close my eyes, trying to reach out to Kani—break into her mind, and sever the connection. But I’m met with static and disrupted, erratic energy.

  When I open my eyes, Videus tick-tocks his pointer finger from side to side.

  Something oozes from my nose, and there’s nothing I can do to wipe it away.

  “See, we picked this cage especially for you, Everblossom. We knew you’d try some of your…mental acuities,” he says, snickering.

  “We?” I spit, keeping my eyes locked on both of them.

  “Why, yes. We,” Videus says, pacing, “See, before Kani became a faithful servant, she was most helpful. She explained a lot of details I hadn’t fully understood before. She helped me pick this one out so we could keep you focused.”

  My heart sinks. I know Kani and I were never best friends, but I considered her a friend, nonetheless. Would she really have done this to me? To the rest of the planet? Surely she knows there’s more at stake than just her own pain or dislike of me?

  Maybe she did and it didn’t matter.

  Kani steps forward mechanically, choosing an instrument from the table. Even in her Labot state, old habits die hard. She chooses a knife, similar to the one she’s always had strapped to her leg.

  However, without her signature snarky expressions, my blood runs cold. This, cold, calculated machine is absolutely terrifying.

  “Why don’t you ask your question already?” I say, ripping my eyes off of her, and placing them back with Videus.

  “Haven’t you gotten more brave? Good for you, what fun would it be trying to get this out of a sniveling, crying Daughter of Five?” he says, smirking. “Though, I have to admit, I’ve fantasized it that way a number of times. I cannot tell a lie.”

  I keep my eyes fixed on him, refusing to look away.

  “Alright, you want to begin, let’s begin,” Videus says, peering over his shoulder at Kani.

  A silent command passes between them, and within seconds, she’s at my side, knife drawn and ready. Then, she slowly kneels down, keeping her facelessness pointed at me. She grabs hold of my right hand, and deliberately digs the tip of the knife beneath the fingernail on my pinkie.

  Biting down hard, I refuse to scream—though the pain is unbelievable. Lightening sparks through my whole body, recognizing the point of entry as a source of intense agony.

  “Now that I’ve got your attention, I need you to know I’m not unwilling to go here. I want you to remember this moment. Remember the feeling of your friend’s blade twisting into your body. There are thousands of spots like this all over the human body. We don’t need to cut huge gashes to be effective. Just know next time, it won’t be so pleasant. And if you lie, consider an eyeball to be next. Perhaps that pretty blue one,” he says, stepping forward. “Now then, how do you do it?”

  “Do what?” I spit, trying not to focus on the blood escaping through my fingertip and the sound it makes as it hits the floor.

  “Move through time,” he says, simply.

  “I—I’m not,” I begin.

  Stinging discomfort lashes out as Kani twists the knife slightly.

  “I mean, I’m here. This is my time now,” I say, backtracking to the truth.

  “Are you so certain?” Videus says, bending in.

  The bloody mask looks so real—and perhaps it is. All this time I thought it was another elaborate hologram, but now I’m not so sure.

  “I—I—” I stumble for words, unsure where he’s going.

  “When I came back, everything made sense again. I could tell I wasn’t in the loop any longer,” I say.

  “Loop? Is that what you’re calling it. Interesting,” he tips his head to the side, “Not quite what I’d call it, but alright. I can go with that. How did you get into it?” Videus demands.

  My mind races, there’s information I don’t want to give over to him—but will he know if I don’t? Where is this all leading? And how long can I stall him until I have a plan?

  “The Tree of Burden. When I entered, it took me through and dumped me into an alternate timeline,” I say.

  Not a total lie.

  “And where exactly did it start? Were you in control of it?” he asks, leaning in closer.

  “No, at least, I don’t think so,” I say, my finger throbbing. “At first I wasn’t even aware I was out of my timeline. I was sheltered from anything that would have given it away.”

  “Peculiar,” Videus says, scratching his chin. Blood leaks from his mask to his gloves, but he takes no notice or care.

  Kani’s Labot form hovers in wait, her knife centimeters from my finger. The tip pulsates, but I can already feel my blood coagulating, wanting to make me whole again.

  From somewhere nearby, an alarm blares, and the lights dim, then red lights blink furiously.

  “Sort that out,” Videus commands to Kani.

  She nods, spinning the knife in her hand as she stands up. Then she flings it to the table as she heads out the way she came. The knife lands with a soft thud beside the others like it as its tip digs into the table, swaying goodbye to its wielder.

  “Happen often?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

  Videus
snorts, “It’s none of your concern.”

  His demeanor doesn’t change at all. It’s hard to determine if he’s rattled, or simply feels unconcerned about the change in ambiance.

  “The Tree of Burden,” Videus begins again, as he meanders toward the table of knives and other instruments, “what was it like? Inside it?”

  My eyes narrow as I try to follow his direction to a final conclusion.

  “Answer me,” he snaps.

  “It was like a tree—any other tree on Pendomus,” I say.

  “Except?” Videus prods.

  “Except for when I left my friends behind. It held the gateway to the time loop,” I say.

  “How did you know what to do?” he continues.

  I’m unsure how much I want to explain about Adrian and the voices. Or the others I assume are out there, helping me in some way. I’ve never really met them, I’ve only felt their presence.

  “I didn’t,” I say. “I followed my intuition, mostly. I did whatever I felt was the right thing to do at the time.”

  “So, you went into the Tree of Burden on a hunch?” Videus snickers.

  “I guess I did,” I say, pressing my thumb to my pulsating pinky.

  “What about the information?” he says.

  I narrow my eyes, “What information?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Everblossom,” Videus says, suddenly inches from my face. His breath is stale—like a room closed off for centuries.

  “I—I—” I stumble for words, “I don’t know what you’re referring to. What information? You need to be more specific.”

  Videus’ ibis twitches almost imperceptibly.

  He’s closer than I thought to exploding. Unrest—or hatred—maybe both, is running under the surface of this calmer demeanor.

  “Videus, I went in on a hunch because what choice did I have? The information I received was minimal, but you’d backed us into a corner. I didn’t have time to extrapolate anything else. I trusted in my ability to figure things out, that’s all,” I say.

  Clenching a hand in front of him, Videus’ fingers tighten—as do the electrical restraints around my wrists and ankles. I’m thrust into a blinding pain as electricity courses through my veins without him ever lifting a finger to the knives. I close my eyes, trying to wield the energy—to subdue it.

  Suddenly, I hear screaming—it starts low and grows louder and louder. Red and white light blinds me behind my eyelids until everything abruptly stops.

  I close my mouth—cutting off the scream.

  Silence falls, and I open my eyes.

  Videus is gone.

  Darkness consumes everything.

  What must be hours later, I open my eyes feeling groggy and disoriented. I’m still attached to the glass chair—the restraints still intact, digging into my skin, but without sending their electricity through me. The table full of instruments has vanished, but I know without a doubt, Videus will be back for more. Perhaps when he’s more restrained, himself.

  My head lolls to the side, unable to hold itself just yet.

  Come on, Runa. Get control.

  I have to work quickly. I don’t know how much time I have until Videus comes back for more—and I don’t plan to waste this opportunity.

  I take a deep breath, and allow my eyes to close again. If anyone is watching me—it will simply appear like I’ve passed out again.

  Taking slow, deliberate inhalations, I center myself, and call upon the energies in the bloodlines. Alone, I may not be strong enough to do this—but together—embracing the energies of those who came before me—I hope I have a chance to succeed. Kani didn’t know anything about the bloodlines, so there’s a chance Videus doesn’t fully understand either.

  The energy builds slowly, awakening inside like a sleeping cat stretching. My body shudders, and clarity strikes my consciousness without any effort on my part. Connected to the source of all—my ancestors and those who made me possible—I lean on their leverage to push my mind out toward those in cages alongside me. I hope like hell their connection to the bloodlines—to me—will allow me the access I need—even in this place.

  At first, my consciousness creeps slowly, hunting for a way out of the glass enclosure Videus put me in. It’s true, his efforts would certainly keep me in check—if I hadn’t had my bloodlines backing me up. It’s funny—all this is possible because Videus kept trophies of his victims. I still don’t completely understand why. I guess I don’t overly have to. His sick fascination with the bloodlines will be his downfall, I swear it will.

  My mission now is about protecting the rest of us, and getting everyone out. With a little luck, I’ll find something to help Trae.

  Reaching out further, pushing my mind to find a way, the energy of it melds with the glass box. I push through it, rather than find a place of least resistance. As my consciousness passes through the glass, it scatters, disorients. Whatever this is, it’s no ordinary glass—it’s something more.

  It’s still not capable of containing me, though. Once my consciousness pushes past the box, I see everything. I’m connected to each and every one of the people here in a way I’ve never imagined being connected to anyone. Not only can I see them as my consciousness hovers overhead, but I can feel them all. As though each one of them are simply an extension of myself.

  Casting out a distress call, of sorts, I wait to see if anyone responds. To see if they’re still there, trapped inside their own heads—or if they’ve been released through the suffering they’ve endured.

  At first, nothing happens. But then, like a slow tickle across my brain, I sense the awakening of…something.

  What is it?

  I focus on it, sending out the message that I’m here. That they aren’t alone.

  Then it comes to me, what the something is.

  Hope.

  For the first time in a long time for most of them, the inklings of hope arises. It’s small—the energy of it overall. But it’s there. And it gives me something to latch onto. Hope means they’re still alive—Videus hasn’t broken all of them. And that alone gives me something worth fighting for.

  ~Hello?

  One voice calls out in my head.

  ~Hello? Is someone there?

  Another.

  ~It’s been so long. Am I dead?

  ~Please, please—I’m trapped.

  ~Hello?

  The flood gates of voices in my head begin to open. The awareness of their minds, their souls all awakening to my presence fills me with such relief. I’d half expected them to be as broken as they appear from the outside.

  ~I’m here. I need you to know you’re not alone. Not anymore. I respond.

  ~Who are you? How are you doing this? That—that man. He’s tortured me. I didn’t think I’d ever hear anyone again.

  ~How can I hear all of you?

  Another voice.

  ~Can everyone hear each other?

  I ask the question. I need to know if this connection pushes the limits of what I’ve ever done before.

  ~I can, yes.

  ~Me, too.

  ~Yes.

  Good. This is good.

  ~Listen everyone, I don’t know how yet, but we will find a way out of here. I have friends on the outside—and I’m working on a plan.

  ~Who are you?

  ~My name is Runa. Runa Cophem.

  ~Runa?

  One voice calls out, desperation clinging to my mental projection.

  ~Right, Runa.

  ~Oh my g—Runa. It’s so good to hear you. I—I thought you were dead.

  I push my consciousness further, pinpointing the source of this voice. Like zooming above the sea of bodies, it finally rests on the body of a man, crumpled in the corner of his glass cell. His dark hair has grown out and shaggy, extending over his ears. The skin on his hands have taken on a grayish quality.

  ~Baxten? Baxten, is that you?

  My heart skips a beat. I’d been told he was lost. But here he is.

  Suddenly, my re
solve falters slightly.

  How can he be here?

  ~Yes! Runa, yes! It’s me. I don’t know where I am. Or what the hell is going on. A man—he has a—I don’t know what’s wrong with his face. I’ve never seen—

  Someone else chimes in.

  ~I’ve seen it too. What is that?

  ~Me, too. Oh, god, what is he?

  The voices start flooding in, and they’re hard to control—hard to piece each one out so I can make sense of them all. But the sentiment is the same. They’re scared as hell and they’ve seen Videus personally.

  ~Baxten, did he do anything to you? What has he done?

  I ask, needing to understand more about the nature of everyone’s capture.

  ~When I first got here, I was so disoriented. I—I remember looking for you, but then, I swear Runa—I swear on all my life, a giant creature came out of nowhere. It wrapped itself around my legs and burst into flames. I thought I was gonna die. The next thing I know, I’m here. Alone, strapped to a slab of glass. What is this place?

  ~We’re in the Crematorium—all of us are.

  ~The Crematorium? Why are we here—?

  ~Crematorium?

  Panic builds in those connected to the conversation and I know I need to dampen it quickly or it will get us all killed.

  ~Yes, but it’s not just the Crematorium. It’s used as something else. A holding cell for all of us. Videus—this man—he wants information from us. More from me. So, if you want to stay alive, do as he asks. Do you all understand? It will keep you alive until I can get us out.

  They each begin talking at once, some making sounds of acknowledgement, others of protest.

  Suddenly, a searing pain rips me from the connection and my consciousness promptly returns where it should be—a girl in a room, bound to a chair.

  My eyes pop open.

  Beside me, Kani’s disturbing faceless form hovers just to the right, in my periphery. Suddenly, pain floods my consciousness. Buried in the back of my right hand is a long knife. My fingers are splayed open, without my conscious effort to do so.

  Videus stands before me, a little bird resting on his shoulder—Caelum. His mask of blood and the headdress look oddly appropriate beside that traitorous bird.