by T. M. Catron
Calla insisted they not stray far from the mine. She wanted to see what the Condarri were doing.
Cummings was still in charge, and he insisted they form a plan of attack.
“An attack on the Condarri?” Calla asked incredulously. She sat under a tree, cleaning a squirrel she’d caught for dinner. “Are you insane, Cummings? I thought you weren’t ready to die.”
“I’m not, but if that were all I was concerned about, I would have run away a long time ago. And if what you told me about Doyle is true, I want to find out where the magic is.”
“I don’t follow.”
“No?” Cummings looked smug, like he knew something Calla did not.
Irritated, Calla scoffed and continued skinning her squirrel. It was a puny thing. Just a few bites and that was it. She wasn’t going to allow Cummings to goad her into asking.
She didn’t have to. Seeing Calla wasn’t going to voice her curiosity, he cleared his throat and continued.
“Follow this logic. Doyle killed a Condarri, correct?”
He waited for Calla to nod.
“After, he began exhibiting extraordinary power over the aether. Before Doyle, had you ever seen a hybrid command it like that?”
“No. But Doyle was always exceptional.”
“Is that praise I hear?”
“A begrudging acknowledgment.” Calla spitted the freshly skinned squirrel on a stake. She hated eating rodents, but she was hungry. “Are you saying that Doyle only got his power because he killed that Condarri?”
Cummings nodded, his eyes shining with determination.
Calla stared at him, stunned into silence. The conclusion was so simple, she mentally cursed herself for not thinking of it already. Of course, that’s how Doyle did it. He hadn’t learned to wield the aether, as he’d claimed, but seized it by force.
And if Calla wanted that same power, she’d have to do the unthinkable—kill a Condarri, one of the race she’d been created to serve. The wheels of her mind began turning, and she shivered with the horror of her realization. Cummings wanted to kill a Condarri and claim power for himself.
“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked.
Cummings shrugged. “Then we’ll have one less Condarri to worry about. Do I need to worry about you, Calla?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“No,” she spat. “But I think it’s a suicide mission. Ironic for someone who does not want to die.”
“Which is why I want you to come with me.”
“I thought you might say something like that.”
“Then you won’t do it?”
Calla took a bite out of the raw squirrel meat on the stick, chewing slowly as if she were considering his question. Cummings recoiled in disgust. She looked at him, then at the squirrel. Calla smiled and offered it to him.
“You’ll get sick,” he said, waving her away.
“Hybrids don’t get sick. You’ve lived too long among the humans if you’ve forgotten that. And we can’t light fires right now.”
“The humans have a widely developed palate. I’m not sorry to say I enjoy their food. Still, I’d rather eat tree bark than raw squirrel meat.”
“Then go ahead,” Calla said, gesturing to the tree near his shoulder. Cummings disgusted her. He’d spent so much time in the company of humans that he acted like one. He didn’t look or act strong like a hybrid, and how he’d managed to take control of a hardened band of rogue hybrids was beyond her. But he smelled like one. Calla couldn’t deny his identity. He’d gone soft. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Still, it gave her the opportunity she needed. Calla wanted control of the rogues. And he’d just shown her how to get it.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you on one condition.”
Cummings raised an eyebrow.
“You let me have the first try.”
“By yourself?”
“I’m being obvious, Cummings!” she spat. “If Doyle can do it, so can I.”
Cummings still looked doubtful. “It’s my idea.”
“Alright then, you go hunt one down for yourself, and I’ll get one on my own.”
He hesitated. Cummings needed her, and he knew it.
Calla took a bite of the rubbery squirrel meat, ignoring its stringy consistency. She barely chewed it before swallowing.
Finally, Cummings nodded his agreement.
Never one to waste time, Calla laid out her plan at nightfall. Cummings and five other hybrids would accompany her back to the mine.
Chapter Ten
No way was Mina letting Doyle go to Condar alone. She’d gone along with him when he told her, but only to appease him in the moment. Besides, she had all kinds of reasons for going with him.
One, she didn’t want to be on the Factory without him. What would happen if the Glyph spilled her secret?
Two, Doyle needed someone to watch his back. Although Mina knew she didn’t possess the physical prowess of the hybrids, she was completely loyal to Doyle. She didn’t trust anyone else.
Three, she was curious. Maybe not a good reason. But it was a reason.
Okay, a good reason.
Before Mina could go, she needed to see the Glyph upstairs. Even though she hadn’t told Doyle, it had spoken to her. He already worried about her. Lincoln worried about her, and telling either one of them the Glyph’s threats would probably land her in the detention center herself, locked away for her own “protection.” To be honest, she was tired of Doyle looking after her. She appreciated it, but it scared her. What if he was so worried about watching out for her that he forgot to look out for himself? Mina suspected he’d already crossed that line when he killed the Glyph to protect her.
But she wasn’t about to let him keep making sacrifices for her.
A nagging part of her brain wondered if sneaking on board the Nomad would distract him, but she promised herself she wouldn’t get in his way.
The adarria over the door flashed. Mina almost thought they were beckoning to her. But they wouldn’t do that, would they?
Mina found her chance when Grace stood with her back to the door, talking to Lincoln. She eased over, careful not to draw their attention. Grace laughed at something Lincoln had said. Mina couldn’t imagine what—his sour mood hadn’t lifted even after Doyle promised to get him help to talk to the adarria.
She couldn’t imagine why Lincoln wanted to, but Doyle seemed to think it was a good idea. And it would give her brother something to do.
Grace and Lincoln both turned to look at Lincoln’s vitals, and Mina seized her chance.
Will you let me out?
The adarria by the door flashed, but the door didn’t move. Mina should have known Doyle wouldn’t make it that easy. But maybe it didn’t have anything to do with him. The hybrids weren’t exactly pleasant; they liked someone who commanded, not asked.
Mina glanced over at her brother, who was smiling at Grace. Mina turned her attention back to the door, picturing it opening in her mind.
Open, she commanded. The door slid open. Talking to the wall was strange, but Mina couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of a door opening simply because she’d told it to.
Mina held her breath, looking to see if anyone was on the other side. But the corridor was empty. She stepped through into the dark passage.
The door shut on its own, leaving her in absolute darkness. With her back to the door, Mina waited for her eyes to adjust. They didn’t.
Grace had mentioned something about being locked in there herself. Why did they let her out?
Although Doyle had wanted Mina to practice speaking to the adarria, something told her he hadn’t wanted her out. Which meant the adarria weren’t following his orders.
Then whose orders were they following? Or were they freeing themselves here, too?
Mina hadn’t thought this through. Now that she was out here, though, she couldn’t give up in defeat.
She took a deep breath and asked, Which way?
A pinprick
of light caught her eye from above. It glowed on the ceiling like a tiny sun in deep space. Mina watched, holding her breath. For a moment, it stayed put. Then, the glow seemed to run. It looked like a bright stream of water flowing across the ceiling to the right.
Unfortunately, it didn’t light the hallway or the floor. She knew this corridor was the main one that ran the length of this section of the ship. Mina turned right, toward the way the light was flowing. As she did, it spread with her. The movement was disconcerting. The adarria couldn’t see her, could they? They must sense her adarre.
Feeling reckless and heady, Mina started walking. At a junction, the light turned left, and so did she. As Mina moved deeper into the ship, the feeling of being watched grew. Several times, she turned to look behind her. But the halls were always dark. The sense of walking through the dark was eerie, like she was walking on nothing. Maybe following the adarria was a bad idea.
After a while, Mina knew she was heading the wrong way. She should have found the elevator by now. Although what she was going to do when she found it, she didn’t know.
And where were all the hybrids? Once, Mina thought she heard footsteps down a side corridor, and she’d pressed herself against the wall, hoping they wouldn’t come her way. What did the hybrids do at “night?” They didn’t need to sleep like humans, but they weren’t roaming the halls, either. Even though one million were on board, the place felt like a ghost ship. Mina sighed, relieved to be alone but feeling conspicuous all the same. And if a hybrid were nearby, it would see her, follow her perhaps, without her knowing.
That thought brought her up short. She half-turned to go back, but she wouldn’t be able to find her way. What if the adarria wouldn’t lead her back?
The glowing light ahead stopped, waiting.
Waiting.
What did it want to show her? She needed to know. Without giving the fear a chance to take hold, Mina turned back to follow the adarria.
More corridors, more tunnels. No hybrids. As Mina walked, the corridors shrank in size. Soon, she felt the brush of stone on either side of her. The ceiling had lowered too, and now the light illuminated the passage. After spending so much time in the dark, Mina welcomed the soft yellow glow around her.
The tunnel kept going, sloping gently upward, finally beginning to curve left. Mina slowed down. She didn’t want to surprise anyone coming around the bend. The passage grew warm, the stone hot to touch. The floor continued to slope up, spiraling to the left until Mina felt sure she was walking around something big. Very big.
Then, the tunnel stopped. A dead end. The light spread out on the wall in front of her like gossamer strands weaving through the stone. If Mina hadn’t been worried about the mess she was in, she would have paused to admire them.
Hot air blew through the tunnel, toward the wall. That didn’t make sense. The air didn’t have anywhere to go.
Sweat dripped down her face and ran under her shirt collar. Had she come all this way only to be trapped against a wall?
“What do you want?” she asked. The light didn’t change, just kept weaving up and down the wall in front of her. What was she supposed to see?
What? she said again. Nothing changed.
Mina turned around. The faint glow extended only five feet or so. If she tried to turn around, would it follow? She walked until she wasn’t standing in the light anymore. The adarria lights didn’t follow. Still, maybe they would if she insisted on leaving. She walked down the tunnel, keeping her right hand on the hot stone. Soon her skin began to prickle with the heat, but the lights did not follow.
She was stuck. Turning, Mina marched back up to the wall where the lights were still shimmering around the adarria.
Around the adarria.
Every time Mina had watched the adarria lights, the symbols had shifted, which seemed to cause the intermittent flashes of light, like the adarria were holding the light behind, and it only escaped when they moved.
These adarria weren’t shifting. The light was moving on its own. How?
Mina puffed out a breath of air. “I don’t get it! What do you want?”
She felt silly talking to the wall now. So much for the feeling of power. Tired and frustrated, she again turned her back on the wall, only to sink into it, sliding down to sit on the floor.
It was hot. She jumped up. Sitting wasn’t an option.
Great, she was going to have to summon Doyle and tell him she was lost. He wasn’t going to be happy with her. She wasn’t too happy with herself, come to think of it. Either call Doyle, die of heat stroke at the end of this tunnel, or try to find her way out and get even more lost. At least she would wait for him where it was cooler.
Mina looked at the lights one last time, wishing she knew what was going on. Why had they brought her to this dead end? Why was this corridor even here? She stretched out her hand to touch the adarria, hoping some revelation would hit her before she left.
Her hand went through the wall.
Then, before she could react, the wall sucked in her arm. She cried out, trying to free herself. But like stepping on quicksand, the harder she fought, the more it pulled her in. Soon her entire arm was encased in hot stone. Her skin burned, bringing tears to her eyes.
She was going to die. The wall was going to kill her.
“No!” Mina fought, but as if sensing her renewed purpose, the wall fought harder. When Mina’s shoulder hit the hot stone, she screamed. Panic was setting in, but she didn’t know what to do. She tried to relax; if she relaxed, maybe it would let go.
But as she forced her muscles to go limp, the wall seized the opportunity to pull her in the rest of the way.
Mina’s head went first, cutting off her cry. Then, her torso felt like it was being forced through a tiny, rubbery tube. Just when she thought her ribs would crack, she shot out the other end, dropping onto damp, dark stone.
She was hyperventilating. But the feeling of freedom and discovering she wasn’t dead made her force her eyes closed and focus on taking deep, calming breaths. For a minute, Mina didn’t think it would work. She wanted to see where she was, what was around her. But that train of thought only made her breathing speed up again.
Mina cupped her hands around her mouth and forced herself to breathe through them until her heart rate slowed and her breathing became almost normal. When the panic subsided, she raised her head to look around.
Not surprisingly, this tunnel was just as dark as the one she had left. Only the adarria lights had disappeared.
The panic returned in a fresh wave, but Mina didn’t give it the opportunity to take hold. She climbed to her feet, shaken but unharmed.
The air was cooler. At least she wasn’t in danger of melting here, wherever here was.
Now she should probably call for Doyle. Mina summoned her courage. Doyle would be beyond unhappy. He’d be furious. Mina was angry with herself for getting into this predicament. She closed her eyes, hoping the adarria would relay her message since she didn’t know where Doyle was on the ship.
A flash of something grew across her mind. She opened her eyes, thinking the lights had returned. They hadn’t—must have been her imagination, or desperate hope. She closed her eyes again, thinking about Doyle and trying not to picture his anger, only him finding her and rescuing her from whatever hellhole she’d fallen into.
What if he can’t get to you? She pushed the thought aside. Doyle knew every inch of this ship. He’d find her.
A clanging sound echoed to her. Mina opened her eyes although the darkness was so complete that the act did nothing. Then the sound reached her again. It sounded almost like the Glyph had when it was throwing itself against the walls of its cage.
Mina took a careful step, sliding her foot in front of her, terrified of what she couldn’t see. If the floor fell off, she wouldn’t know until she did, too. But the ground remained solid, and Mina took another hesitant step forward. Then another.
A blue glow appeared. On instinct, Mina knew it wasn’t the ada
rria lights. It looked like the light of the detention center.
She was there.
With each step, the blue light grew brighter, and Mina’s confidence returned. Soon the light revealed the end of her tunnel, looking down into the detention center. The ground was a five-foot drop away. From her vantage point, she saw the young Glyph throw itself against its cage. The glass groaned.
What if it escaped? Mina glanced around, searching for anyone else. But the room looked empty.
She sat on the edge of the tunnel and dropped down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, the clanging stopped. Mina straightened, looking at the Glyph. It looked right at her.
Human, it said.
The force of its speech almost knocked Mina down again like a strong wall of water had washed over her. She staggered but managed to remain upright.
The Glyph put its claws on the glass, staring at Mina with its cold, blank eyes. She summoned her courage and walked forward, automatically double-checking the door of the cage. It seemed secure, so she approached the Glyph, which had grown at least a foot since she’d seen it last. Why hadn’t Doyle told her it was growing?
Mina looked back in its face. It stared her down as if its gaze alone could kill her.
You dare to look me in the eye? You will die!
Mina shivered but didn’t break eye contact.
“I don’t answer to you.” And since she wanted to make sure it heard her, she said, You’re not in a position to give orders.
And you think that hybrid scum Doyle is?
He’s still Dar Ceylin.
He has fallen.
No, he has risen to heights you can’t even imagine because he’s shirked the burden of slavery.
The Glyph began shaking. At first, Mina thought it was in anger, but after a few moments, she thought the creature was laughing. Its next words confirmed her suspicion.
Doyle has nowhere to go. He can’t fight us forever, and that’s how long it will take him to win. Turning his back on Condar has only sealed his fate.
