by Delia Roan
He stopped and tilted his head to her. “You need more time?”
“No, I wanted to…” She took a breath. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”
He nodded slowly. “You are welcome.”
“I-I don’t even know your name.” She bit her lip at the confession.
He paused for a moment. “Jahle.”
“I’m Mel. Melissa, really, but everyone calls me Mel.”
He absorbed the information. Then, without a word, he turned to the far door and kept walking.
CHAPTER FIVE
JAHLE
He couldn’t give her his full name. Shame gnawed at his belly. He couldn’t give her his name because if he did, he would have to admit that he was Ar’Geran. He did not deserve the name. He had stolen from his brother. From his king. He had helped the human – Mel. Her name is Mel – escape.
And when I held her in my arms, I enjoyed myself a little too thoroughly.
I should not be attracted to her.
Yet I am.
When the storm had swept her away, his heart had told him the truth. It sang to him a song he had waited his whole life to hear. A song of hope, beauty, and redemption. The truth. It was a truth he did not wish to acknowledge. He dared not speak it aloud. If he pushed it away, if he pushed her away, maybe he would not have to face it.
How could it even be possible?
I am Ennoi. She is human.
Yet when he had watched her profile as she caught her breath, he was mesmerized. It was true. His heart told him so. It was all true.
She is my Avowed.
He stomped to the far door and stared at the lock as if it had personally spat on his mother and slapped his father. He unhooked the tether from around his waist, and coiled the rope. There were crates on this side, too, and he placed the tether inside carefully, beside the other four coils.
He was not suitable, by any stretch of the imagination. He could not provide her with an honorable life. If anything, he had shown he had no honor left. Stealing, from his own brother! From his own people!
Next he pulled off his gloves and tucked them into a different crate. He undid the cape and hood, shaking the dirt and dust from them onto the floor. Behind him, he heard Mel rise, and begin to remove her own protective gear.
And I am lying to her.
He’d promised to take her to safety. To a way off this accursed planet. But this was not the safe path. This was not the direction he promised. If he had tried, he could have smuggled her to the landing pad on Kreebo. She would be on her way by now.
I am using her.
He folded his protective clothing, and when Mel handed hers over, he tucked them all inside a crate. He checked all the crates, just in case there was something useful in one of them. He found a small emergency kit and tucked it into his pack.
“A-are you okay?” Mel asked.
I do not deserve her.
He nodded. “Yes.” He winced internally at how harsh he sounded. But his anger was directed at himself, not her. She was perfect, and he was flawed. She could not be his Avowed.
I won’t let her.
“We should go,” he said.
He flicked on the lamps on his shoulders, making sure she watched. When she fumbled with hers, he grunted and performed the task for her.
“They’re busted,” she said. “No light.”
“They are kinetically charged.”
“What?”
“You move. They burn.”
He grabbed the one on his shoulder and shook it a few times. The bulb flickered and brightened.
“Neato!”
He paused for a moment to savor the delight on her face. She shook the lamp again and giggled when it lit up. With the tip of her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, she did a shimmy that set her breasts jiggling.
Moon preserve my sanity!
Jahle spun to the door and hit the switch. It groaned, and when it was up to the height of his shin, it ground to a stop. He sighed.
“We will have to crawl under.”
Mel ducked her head to peer under the door, and stepped back. “It’s dark.”
He swung the packs off his shoulder. “Hence the lamps.”
Her head shake sent her bright curls dancing. “I-I can’t. I-I’m afraid. Of small spaces.”
He blinked at her. “It is a tunnel. Same as the one we took to the first lock.”
She chewed on her lip. “I-I know, but…”
An urge to sweep her into his arms crept over him. He kept his arms firmly by his sides, but his voice softened. “You’ll have to walk through this yourself, but if you’ll let me, I’ll walk beside you. Let me walk beside you.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “No, thanks. You can stay where I can see you.”
He pushed aside his disappointment. She is not the trusting type to gain comfort from tender gestures. She hides her vulnerability under a coat of prickles.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, and attempted a different strategy. “There is no shame in cowardice.”
His calculation had been correct. She gripped the sonar evaluator tighter and her face reddened. “I’m not a coward!”
“Fine,” he said, riveted by the determination in her face. “I shall go first. You follow.”
He pushed the packs under the jammed door and slid under on his belly. The tunnel on this side was dusty, and the air smelled thick and stale. As expected, the power didn’t extend this far. The beam of his lamp was weak, but shone far enough to show him the tunnel curved downward and around the corner.
When was I last here?
Years and years. The coloration on his skin had only begun to bloom. He and his best friend, Yev, had thought themselves brave explorers, venturing farther and farther on their trips. They pushed their luck, sometimes too far. Yev’s father had thrashed both boys when they’d returned after being trapped in a cave-in for four days. Then Yev had gone to war, and they’d barely seen each other. Now Yev’s corpse floated in the debris of a ship exploded by enemy fire.
Jahle bent down and spoke under the door. “All clear.”
Mel’s head popped out from underneath. He extended his hand to her and she ignored it. Her eyes were wide, but she shimmied out and climbed to her feet, dusting off her clothing. She took in the tunnel.
“Cheerful,” she said.
“You are being dishonest.”
“I’m being sarcastic.” She swung the evaluator up, but it wasn’t pointed at Jahle anymore. Instead, her focus lay on the darkness ahead. She took a deep breath and strode into the tunnel. “It’s one of my more endearing qualities.”
He furrowed his brow as he followed. “Sarcasm again?”
She grinned at him. “You’re smarter than you look.”
Whatever reply he would have made was drowned out in the rumble of an earthquake. It passed in a few minutes, but her eyes remained wide.
“Whoa! That one was the worst one yet!”
He shrugged. “They are all bad. Kreebo has dampeners. We feel them more out here.”
They walked in silence for a while. Mel, a few steps ahead, stopped. “Which tunnel?”
Jahle frowned. “What do you mean?”
The illumination from their lamps had grown stronger with their activity, and Mel picked up her sagging lamp to direct it down a side route.
The skin on the back of Jahle’s neck prickled. “There should not be a fork here.”
Mel peered into the darkness. The mouth of the tunnel was higher than her head. “It looks pretty rough. An earthquake make it, or something?”
“Or something,” Jahle agreed. Hopefully, that something is long gone. “We should keep moving.”
He picked up the pace, pushing past Mel and heading down the corridor. The sensation on the back of his neck spread, down his back and across his shoulders.
Trouble.
They passed half a dozen more of the hewn tunnels. Mel p
eered down them curiously, but Jahle did not slow his pace.
Behind him, Mel stopped. “Hey,” she said. “I think I see movement down there.”
Jahle spun around, in time to see Mel step closer to the tunnel. “No! Run!” he bellowed. She blinked in confusion, but didn’t move. He dove forward, seizing her by the wrist. “Run! Now!”
They pounded down the tunnel. Behind them, a clatter of rocks signaled the something in the tunnel was moving. As they passed another opening, Jahle caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Oh, curse everything!
“Wh-what is it?” Mel panted.
He didn’t bother to respond, because from a tunnel behind them exploded a hissing creature that filled the tunnel. Its chitinous, segmented body was lined with stumpy legs and they propelled the creature along the floor. The head resembled a dark, shiny ball, save for the sharp mandibles at the front that allowed the creature to hunt for prey.
It had been years since Jahle had seen a full-grown adult borebug. He noted with detached morbidity that without the Ennoi to cull their numbers, they seemed to have achieved an even larger size than the ones he had seen in his youth.
He grabbed Mel by the hand and pushed her against the wall, then spread himself over her.
“We cannot outrun it,” he hissed. “We hide. Stay quiet.”
Her breath curled along his arm, making his skin twitch. She smelled of sweat and fear, and the very dirt of Geran which he loved. She also had her own particular aroma, one that made his head spin with the nearness of her.
Of the softness of her.
Focus.
He dragged his attention back to the adult borebug now weaving its head from side to side. It inched forward. The many legs skittered as it moved. The air filled with a dry, acidic scent as it drew closer. In the tunnel behind it, Jahle spotted a second creature emerging.
A mating pair? The source of the larvae?
Mel raised her hand to her mouth, but the whimper escaped. The creature closest to them stopped. For a moment, only its mandibles moved. Then, quick as lightning, it darted forward. The mandible sank into the pack on Jahle’s back, but one sharp edge scraped against his skin.
His right shoulder blade exploded in pain, and he roared. He pushed back, freeing his left arm. He pummeled the creature on the dome-like head, but his blows had no effect. The dread in his gut grew as the creature began to drag him back to its lair. He fumbled for the strap on the backpack, but it was tangled with the lamp.
Mel grabbed the front of his shirt and tried to haul him back. “Let go, you ugly, overgrown centipede!”
The pressure on Jahle did not waver. The borebug lurched, and he fell to the floor. His feet scrambled for purchase, but the borebug simply yanked him backward. The backpack strap twisted upward, to pin his arm to his neck. He couldn’t find the leverage to pull the beast’s jaws apart. It became difficult to breathe. Stars began to dance in front of his vision.
I am going to die here.
I will never reach my Potential.
Sensing a meal, the second borebug darted forward, and sank its pincers into the first’s segments. The borebug carrying Jahle dropped him, and air rushed back into his lungs. For a moment, he watched the two giant creatures battle it out for his flesh.
Then reality rang. Must move. He rolled to all fours. He crawled until his head bumped into Mel’s knees. Her stance was wide, as she braced herself.
With fuzzy vision, he looked up, in time to see her raise the sonar evaluator.
“Hey, bug brain!” she yelled. “Take this!”
She pulled the trigger.
The light on the sonar evaluator flashed blue. For a second, Mel looked confused. Then the borebugs in front of her let out a shrill whine. They writhed, bickering forgotten, as the sonar pulse disrupted their echolocation.
“You didn’t like that, huh?” Emboldened, Mel stepped over Jahle and closer to the borebugs. “Have some more!”
She fired the weapon a few times, and, like their young, the creatures scrambled away.
“Hah!” Mel crowed. “Yeah, you better run, you bug-eyed… bugs!”
Jahle staggered to his feet. He straightened the strap of the backpack, and then tapped her shoulder. “Are you finished?”
“Not yet,” she replied. “One more.”
“Fine, but just one.”
“You’re a bunch of scaredy-cat creepy-crawlies! Hah!” She turned in time to catch Jahle rolling his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Yes, yes, thank you.”
“That the best you can do? I just saved your life, buddy.”
“You did well.”
As Mel strutted down the corridor with the sonar evaluator dangling from her hand, Jahle knew he was lost.
You were magnificent.
CHAPTER SIX
MELISSA
Her elation lasted another half hour, and then the adrenalin wore off. She started shaking. The rope burns on her hands throbbed. After the exhaustion of the lock crossing and the critters with the legs, she was starting to doubt her sanity.
Two close calls and we aren’t even halfway there.
She’d been so busy playing bad-ass that she hadn’t bothered to let it sink in that she could have died. Twice. All before her next meal. She might have been chained to a wall, but at least nothing was trying to eat her back at Kreebo.
Her rubbery legs gave way, and she stumbled, bumping a rock with the side of her sneaker. Her hand hit the wall, and she hissed as pain spread across her palm. Jahle, leading the way, turned at the sound.
He lifted the lamp, and she winced as the light hit her eyes. But she curled her fingers so he couldn’t see the wounds on her palms. “Hey! Watch it!”
“You are tired.” He lowered the lamp. “We should rest. Camp for tonight.” Jahle squinted at the wall for a moment, and nodded. “We should find a side tunnel in a quarter of a bell. It leads to a suitable campsite. Come.”
“How do you know?”
“The stone told me,” he replied.
Mel’s jaw dropped. “You can speak to stones?”
To her surprise, he threw his head back and laughed so hard he had to bend over to catch his breath. “No, no. Nothing like that. The stones are guide markers. Directions. They tell us where we are and what is ahead.”
With a sheepish grin, Mel followed his finger, where she spotted a white stone embedded high up on the corridor wall. Strange etchings, which she assumed were letters, marked its surface.
Still chortling, Jahle walked onward. As he had said, the tunnel branched off after a short walk, and they took the new path for what Mel estimated to be a half-hour walk.
By the time the corridor expanded into a small cave, Mel’s feet dragged. Pale light shone from wall sconces, showing what appeared to be a shipping crate sitting against a far wall. After the darkness of the tunnel behind them, the light was warm and inviting. She collapsed onto a nearby rock. Every beat of her heart sent throbs of pain along her hands.
Despite being burdened by the packs, Jahle didn’t seem to slow down. He walked to the container and swung it open. Strange tools lined the inside. He studied them for a moment, and then picked up one that resembled a fence post. He carried it to a circle of metal on the ground and jabbed it into the hole. After he attached a handle to the top and began to crank, Mel recognized the apparatus.
“Is that a water pump?”
“Yes,” he grunted. “Once I prime it, it will siphon ground water up and purify it.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m parched.”
As he worked, she distracted herself from her discomfort by looking around. Strange markings lined the walls. The scratches resembled the markings on the guide stone Jahle pointed out earlier, but these were rougher.
Jahle grunted and straightened. “The pump will purify the water.”
“What are those?”
He squinted to where she pointed. �
�Names. Here, I’ll show you.”
A pen-like object sat on a stone shelf. A cord attached it to a machine sitting on the floor. Jahle opened the side, and pulled out a lever. He spun it a few times, and the wand in his hand began to whirr. He walked to the end of the line of markings, and began to scratch on the wall.
Mel hopped off her rock and wandered closer. She held her lamp close to the markings.
“My name,” Jahle said. “This is my clan, Geran. You’ll see this character repeated with several other names.”
“So these are all people?”
“Yes, when we stop here, we leave our name.”
She studied the long line of scratches, some faded beyond recognition. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why leave your name here?”
He shrugged, and headed back to the shipping crate. “Why not?”
Mel studied the wall. “Who was the last person? Before us?”
Jahle didn’t look up, but when he replied, he spoke with certainty. “Ketug. Of the Water People.”
“Water People?”
“His tribe.”
Mel stared at the name. “It looks pretty fresh. I wonder what happened to him.” When Jahle didn’t reply, she tilted her head and followed the names, heading back toward the crate. She stopped in surprise. “You’ve been here before! Look! It’s your name!”
Jahle drew bundles of fabric from the crate, and began to spread them out on the ground. He worked with efficiency. “I have.”
Mel watched him work for a moment, then turned her attention back to the device he used to carve his name. She bent down and cranked the machine back to life. The wand in her hand buzzed, sending vibrations up her arm. She placed the tip against the rock beside Jahle’s name, and to her delight, the bit cut into the rock, leaving a line.
By the time she finished, her hand ached worse than ever. She stepped back with a satisfied grin and bumped into Jahle, who crept up beside her while she worked. “Oh! I didn’t see you there!”
For a moment, she thought he might step closer. Her heart thumped at the idea, and she remembered the warmth of him pressed against her when he shielded her body with his.
He stepped back. “Did you write your name?”