The man’s eyes widen, his eyebrows tugging in. A deep frown surfaces and he eventually shrugs.
“How do you know about me? Or about them? Have you been watching us?” I say. “Your son thinks you’re dead.”
The man starts speaking, but I still can’t hear a word, frustrating me even further. This is absolutely absurd. I should be able to have this conversation. I should be able to understand what needs to be said, what needs to be heard. Instead, we’re fumbling around with paper and hand gestures.
“Ugh—” I cry, raising my hands and walking away. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. This is so ridiculous.”
The man grabs my hand, spinning me around to face him. He pulls my face into his hands, making me stare directly into his eyes. For a moment, I consider kneeing him in the groin, but the longer I look, the more I see hidden in the depths of those brown eyes.
Those familiar brown eyes.
My mouth drops open, and he places my hand over his heart—a final confirmation.
This isn’t Traeton’s father. I don’t know how or why, but this is Trae.
As soon as the realization hits, more information starts to rise in my mind. If this is Trae, how did he age? Was he captured?
“How?” I whisper.
Trae’s eyes are sorrowful, but he leans in and kisses me briefly on the lips. Then, the cheek.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he whispers in my ear, “you’re out of time.”
Blinking at him, I pull back.
“What did you say?”
He stiffens, then says, “Can you hear me now?”
“She can hear?” Ammon calls from down the hall. “Thank the stars. It’s about time.”
Lifting my hands to my ears, I shake my head as if it can’t possibly be true. My wrist suddenly burns and I reach down to pull back my sleeve. Sure enough, the second petal lights up my wrist. I clutch at the spot, the mystical ink burning my skin.
“Yeah, I can hear you,” I say. “You have to tell me—how did this happen? Who did this to you?”
I take Trae’s hand and pull him back into the bedroom.
“Runa, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what’s going on, but—you need to go back.”
“Then you’re coming with me. Look, we can go right now if you want—but we need—”
Trae shakes his head, “I can’t go with you.”
“Why not?” I ask, confused.
“Because I’m meant to be here. I have to stay here now,” he says, his eyes glazing over as if he’s gone elsewhere.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We need to be together,” I say, reaching for his hand.
“No, not anymore. Not like this,” he says. “You’ll understand.”
“Help me understand now, because you’re not making any sense,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes.
Reaching up, he pulls a strand of my shorter hair forward, then lets it fall back into place.
“You cut your hair,” he says, smiling.
I nod, “I thought it was something I was meant to do. A part of my trials to get my hearing back. Turns out, I just wasted my time.”
“It looks good on you,” he says, “but it won’t last.”
“What do you mean?”
Traeton rubs the spot just under his lip, smiling, “I’ve said too much. If I say anything else, I could damage things further. You’ve never—”
“I’ve never?” I repeat.
“Nothing,” he says shaking his head. “Look, you know me. You know I wouldn’t lead you wrong, Runa. I was surprised to see you here, to say the least. But you need to go back. Things have to be set right.”
Trae’s eyes darken, and sadness emerges in their depths.
“That’s what I’m trying to do. That’s all I’ve been trying to do. These trials—I have to pass them before I’ll be able to go back.”
Traeton shakes his head.
“That’s not true. If you don’t leave—if you don’t go back now, I think you’ll be trapped.”
“No, that can’t be. You’re not making any sense.”
“The Tree is gone, Runa. Videus burned it to the ground,” Trae says, sighing.
“Well, that’s just—it shouldn’t matter. The others, we’ve been—it’s hard to explain, but I have help here. I think I’ll be able to get back to the Haven. They can transport me—”
Again, Trae shakes his head.
“Runa, no one is helping you. They’re all gone. You’re the only one now who can—” he sighs, “it’s just you.”
I may have my hearing back, but things are no more clear than they were before. I feel like we’re talking in circles and I have no idea what we’re even discussing.
“Trae, can you please just tell me what you have to say. Why are you being so cryptic?” I say, taking his hand.
“Because if I say more, it may alter things beyond repair. I shouldn’t even be talking to you now. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“You’ve said that before. But I was transported here. I know I’m meant to be here. But come to think about it, maybe you’re not?” I say, standing up and pacing in front of him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
“Well, Ammon and I were brought here and for a week or more, you weren’t here. Where have you been? Why are you in this place? Are you being held captive?”
“I’m not being held,” he says, looking down at his feet.
“Then what is this place?”
“I live here, Runa,” Trae says. “It’s my home. I built it.”
“What are you talking about? You live in the Haven with me, Kani, and Fenton,” I make a face, and roll my eyes. “You can’t possibly live here and there at the same time.”
“You’re right.”
“I know I am,” I say, glancing at him. His eyes have softened, but he looks at me expectantly.
“What?” I say, biting my lip.
He shakes his head, but continues to look at me with the same expression.
“Runa, I’ve been out hunting. When I do that, I’m gone for a week or more at a time. There isn’t much to eat out this way anymore,” he says, “I have to go further and further out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look, I can see you’re the same stubborn woman as always. Come with me for a moment. It might help make more sense of things,” he offers. Standing up, he takes my hand, dragging me toward the front door.
“Hey, where are you guys going?” Ammon asks.
“Wait here,” I call back to him, “we won’t be gone long. Right?” I say, turning to Trae.
He nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“Suit yourself, but if the new guy kills ya, I’m outta here,” Ammon snorts.
I roll my eyes, and close the door behind me.
Sunlight beats down on me, and I’m reminded of what it was like being left out on this side of the planet not long ago without food or water. I thought I was going to die.
We walk for a bit in silence, but I appreciate the sounds of our footsteps; the crunching of our boots. I listen intently to the sound of the wind as it whips the sand around our bodies. I pay attention to every minute detail I’ve missed for days.
“Where are you taking me, Traeton?” I ask.
“Not far. Just a couple of more minutes,” he says, his eyes trained ahead of him.
“Why didn’t you tell us who you were right away? Ammon wouldn’t have—”
“Is that his name?” Trae says.
“Yes, Ammon,” I say, giving him a sideways glance.
“Tell me about him,” he says.
“Well, he’s sorta been my companion these past few days. I found him in a cavern not long ago, shackled to the wall—”
“Days?” he says. “Is that all it’s been?”
“Yes, days. I know it must seem longer to you, considering…” I glance at him again. It’s odd, but I’ve already gotten used to his older appearance.
> “Why was he shackled?”
“Videus,” I say, as if no more explanation is needed.
Traeton nods, “You know he’s important, then.”
“Yeah, I suppose he is,” I say, biting down on my lip.
The fact of the matter is, I hadn’t even given a second thought to Ammon, or why he was being kept by Videus. I’d just been so grateful we’d escaped when we did.
“Trae, do you have any idea why Ammon was kept there? When you were researching on the mainframe the other day, did you—”
Trae snickers, but shakes his head.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Nothing, just that word again,” he says.
“What word?”
“It’s better if you just see for yourself,” he says, continuing to walk.
“How far are we—”
We come around a large rock outcropping and I stand just meters away from what used to be the entrance to the Haven. Instead, it looks like a sunken crater with the Helix still weaving in and out in the background. The side of the Helix has a gaping hole in one section, as if something attacked it. Everything about the location is different. There’s no snow, no dead trees, only sand and piles of rocks where my friends should be.
“How—how did this happen? How could I not have known?”
“Runa, you’ve been gone for thirty years. You walked into the Tree and we never saw you again,” he says, turning to me.
Despair wells in his eyes, but he looks away.
“Traeton, I—I don’t know what to say. I’m so confused. I’ve only been gone a few days, weeks at most. How could I possibly have been gone thirty years? I mean, look at me,” I say, throwing my hands down.
“Believe me, I know how you look. It’s what caught me so off guard when I first saw you. I thought I was hallucinating again,” Trae says, shaking his head and rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.
“Again?”
“Runa, we don’t have time to go over all that’s happened throughout three decades. What we need to do is find a way for you to go back where you belong.”
My eyes shift from him, to the mounds of rock, stone, earth, and sand.
I wave my hand out in front of me, “This was where I belonged.”
“Which is why we need to find a way to get you back to your friends. Your time. You don’t belong here,” his eyes narrow, and he blinks rapidly. “We need you, back then. We need what the Daughter of Five was meant to be.”
“And what’s that, Trae? I don’t even know what that moniker means yet.”
“Runa, you’re meant to heal the world,” he breathes.
12
Traeton
BIRDS CHIRP OVERHEAD and I wake up with a start. My eyelids flip open and I sit up far too quickly. The moment I do, my insides roll and I lean over to empty the contents from my stomach onto the snow beside me.
My brain is fuzzy in texture and my thoughts are muddled.
How in the hell did I get here?
Where is here?
I wipe my mouth, and squint at my surroundings.
I’m outside, but for the life of me, I can’t remember how I got here.
Pushing myself away from the mess beside me, I come up to my knees and take a deep breath. Something isn’t right here… I don’t feel well at all.
My brain is an empty slate as I try to access any recent memories, hunting for a reason I’d be lying flat in the snow. No matter how hard I try, it’s as if the recent events have all been wiped from my mind.
Slowly, I stand up, taking my time to catch my balance. My body is slow and sluggish, like it’s been asleep for far too long, or I’ve taken some sleeping agent. Actually, this feels like being hungover from one of the Langcaster twin’s special brews, but it’s been years since the last time I escaped that way. Besides, Kani wouldn’t let Fenton or I—
Familiarity of Kani’s warnings tickles at the edges of my mind, but I can’t quite place what it was about. It isn’t about the perils of drinking, but something else. I tap my temple, hunting for the reason.
Think, think.
The repetitive tapping to my temple shifts something loose and the faintest glimmer of recognition slips in.
Headaches. I remember headaches…
I nod to myself, realizing what must have caused this. The NeuroWand.
Kani had been warning me of using it too much, and what the effects could be. The last time must have been one too many uses and now here I am without a clue. I hate when she’s right.
Taking a few steps, I trudge though the snow, trying to regain my bearings on where I am. It doesn’t take long, since I’m one of the few who’ve studied the topography of Pendomus. I know this particular place like the back of my hand.
“Why on Pendomus would I be stumbling all the way out here?” I muse. “There’s nothing out here.”
The fogginess starts to lift ever so slightly, but I still can’t come up with a reason for being outside.
“I thought—I thought we were trying to get help,” I mutter. “Or information?”
Blinking furiously, I hold my forehead trying to pull out the information I need.
“I’m done with that damn NeuroWand,” I say. “This sucks.”
A quick glimpse of putting it back into my pack at the Archives flashes through my mind and I realize I’m far from where I started.
“What the hell?”
I stumble a few more steps, looking around.
“I’m nowhere near the Archives.”
How could I blank out this badly? Why would Kani let me go in such a poor state?
It’s going to take me a good hour to walk back to the entrance of the Archives.
How long was I exposed out here?
I hate that there’s never a definitive way to tell because of the sun’s locked position.
Trudging along slowly, it takes me longer than expected to return to the entrance of the Archives. I need far more breaks than I would normally, but I know if I push it, I’ll be sick again.
Lifting the heavy lid, I crawl down the ladder. My feet hit the ground with a muffled thud and I’m consumed by darkness as I walk into the chasm that has become the last few hours of my life. Most of the lights in the tunnel, for some reason, don’t seem to want to light up.
When I reach the other end, I pull out the disk that opens the door and signal the wall to shift aside. A moment later, it shudders, sliding back and leaving a plume of dust in its wake.
Still raking my memories for a reason I was outside, I walk out into the open area of the Archives, but come up short. Everything is in complete disarray—the tables where I had been sitting are flipped on end. Artifacts are strewn about and toppled over. Broken shards and papers are scattered everywhere.
My eyes fly around the room, searching for any sign of Kani. The only sound is my own labored breath and footsteps. I squeeze my eyelids tight. I can’t wrap my mind around what I’m seeing. There’s a stillness to this space that makes my skin crawl.
“Kani— ” I cry out, listening as the echo of my voice travels down the expansive series of rooms. “Where are you? Are you in here?”
Please tell me she’s here, that she’s okay.
I rake my hands through my hair, trying to think…to concentrate. But my mind is a whirling cyclone. I can’t slow it down.
What can I do? Where should I—
Somewhere nearby, a muffled whimper permeates the stillness. Though barely audible, my head snaps up.
“Kani?” I repeat, stepping around the remains of a heavy book on Egypt, smattered across the floor. “Is that you? Are you okay?”
A contained sob erupts, but stops as quickly as it began. Fortunately, it’s just enough to give me a direction, and I follow the sound with my eyes. Buried between a statue of a cat and an archaic light fixture, a large wooden crate is tipped on end—but it’s big enough for a person to hide inside.
Racing forward, I stumble over some of the debris and lan
d hard against the box. A scream erupts from inside, and I straighten myself, struggling to dislodge my elbow. I pull the light fixture away easily, but unfortunately the cat statue is way heavier than it looks and jammed up against the crate’s lid. I pull with all my strength, trying unsuccessfully to remove it.
“Kani—is that you? I’m here. Hang tight, I’ll get you outta there,” I grope at the crate lid, but I have no chance of opening it without removing the cat.
Another whimper bubbles up, clearly from inside, and I take a firm hold around the cat statue’s neck. Using my legs as leverage, I push off the box and manage to rock the statue. I try again, this time with as much effort as I can muster and it begins to topple. Following the momentum, I narrowly miss the statue landing on top of me as it crashes loudly against the stone floor.
The reverberation makes my ears ring and I lie motionless on the ground, unable to breathe. I roll onto my side, taking a few jagged breaths, and remove a smaller Egyptian artifact from my side.
I need to get to Kani.
Coughing, I push up to a stand and fling back the crate’s lid. Inside, Kani is huddled at an awkward angle—face down—as if she’d been in the box and it had been thrown. Her hands are firmly planted over her ears, and she shakes uncontrollably.
“Kani—what happened? Are you okay? What happened here?” I say.
My eyes leave her, searching frantically around the room for any signs the intruder is still here.
She slinks away from me, but I help her to right herself anyway. Blood streams from a gash across her forehead and when she looks up at me, her eyes are hollow.
“Gone…Gone…Gone…” she mutters.
I reach in, pulling her out by the front of her jacket and forcing her to look at me, “Who’s gone? Gone where?”
I look around the room again, hoping she means whatever did this.
“Gone…Gone…Gone…”
Her face is as pale as the snow outside and she presses her hands to her body in an attempt to get them to stop shaking.
Releasing her jacket, I pace in front of the wooden crate where she stands. Without my support, she slowly sinks back down, resting inside. Muttering to herself, she pulls her knees in and begins to rock back and forth.
The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series Page 36
