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

by Carissa Andrews

  Reaching for Ammon’s hand, I say, “C’mon, let’s go.”

  My smile falters as he makes a face and jabs a finger toward the doorway, “Go where? Through the wall?”

  His eyes are wide as his eyebrows shift upward.

  Turning back to the entry, nothing has changed for me.

  “Are you saying you can’t see the next room?”

  “There’s a room?” he snorts.

  “Hmmm…” I walk forward, my hand out in front of my body. I extend it beyond the space where the door or wall should be, and it easily continues on.

  Ammon inhales quickly, “That’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Your hand just disappeared. Like, it’s gone. Or more like your hand’s stuck in the wall and you’re protruding out of it.”

  Returning my hand to my side, I bite my lip.

  “Ammon, try touching the wall. Maybe this is a Daughter of Five sight thing.”

  He drops my other hand and walks to the door. He raises his hand, as if to knock on it, then waits. Taking a deep breath, he proceeds to tap the door.

  “It’s solid,” Ammon says.

  Ammon’s lips tug downward as he looks around the room.

  “Guess I have to stay here,” he mutters, taking a seat on the floor. “Just hurry, would ya. I don’t want to be out here all alone.”

  I nod, then walk over to him. Dropping to one knee, I kiss the top of his head.

  “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “I sure hope so,” he says, then points at the large tome in my arms. “Want me to watch your book?”

  “That would be great. I’ll hurry.”

  I hand him the Caudex, and he hugs it in tight. Messing up his hair, I stand up and walk through the open doorway without any problems. As I enter the hidden room, bright light streams in, illuminating the entirety of the space, and flooding in from every direction. A white, see-through curtain flows from the ceiling on either side of a large stone directly in front of me. Stepping forward, I push through the curtain to fully take in the location. It’s a large, pentagonal shaped room. Decorations, etchings, paintings, and more flowing see-through curtains adorn the room. There are vases with white flowers—real, live flowers—set on tables throughout the space, though they’re wilting and clearly past their prime. On every window is a frosted, etched design of what I can only describe as the Everblossom. I walk to the center of the room, taking it all in.

  What was this place for? Why is it here?

  There’s something both magical and mysterious about the aura here. Powerful.

  I turn, realizing the large stone I walked past is actually an ornately designed chair made of white marble—or something very similar. Jewels and gems of all shapes, sizes, and colors adorn the whole thing from the very top, down to the armrests, and on to the floor. In the center of the backrest is a delicate, five-petaled flower. Again, the Everblossom.

  “What is this place?” I say aloud. My voice carries, echoing against the walls.

  I can’t be sure—but I’d swear the light dances with my voice. It vibrated somehow, and the energy of the room amped up to a level of…anticipation? Though I’m not sure who or what’s anticipating something.

  I thought this was simply the Archives—or a place for knowledge. At least, that’s what my friends had told me. But this—it’s like being in a different world entirely. As unusual as it is, there’s something familiar about this place I can’t quite put my finger on. Almost as if I’ve been here before, though I don’t know how I could have. We never ventured this far into the Archives when I was with my friends. Besides, the feeling of this place is different. As if it looks similar, but not the same.

  I trace my hand along one of the stone arms, letting my fingers caress the gems and stones. Each of them glows faintly upon my touch. Then, as if noticing sounds for the first time, I hear a low, soft humming. It touches at the edge of my cognition, but gets louder the longer I focus on it.

  Drawn by the sound, I find myself walking toward a small, round table illuminated in a beam of light as it pours in through the window. In the middle of the table is my Caudex, the one that should have been outside with Ammon. Its binding is open wide as it displays delicate writing which scrolls along slowly and simply:

  Locked within space and buried in blood, the keys to creation anew bide time. They linger in wait for when the wheels of Pendomus are set in motion and the threads of existence begin to unravel. Through intentions and fear, safeguards become the Captor’s demise. The Daughter’s deliberate agreement to deliver her life’s Burden will liberate the Five and reconstruct time in its accordance. Through human blood and ultimate sacrifice, the Acropolis will rise and all balance shall be restored.

  Without any second thoughts or doubts, I know what this is.

  The Prophecy.

  I stare at the words, partly dumbfounded, partly in awe. The words make no sense, yet I know they mean everything. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. The direction I’ve needed to know my next move. Only, nothing is any clearer.

  I read and reread the words over and over again. One sentence stands out above all others.

  The Daughter’s deliberate agreement to deliver her life’s Burden will liberate the Five and reconstruct time in its accordance.

  All of this, being out of my timeline—Videus’ attempts to stop the prophecy—it’s all here. I’m in it. We’re in it already.

  “Deliberate agreement to deliver her life’s Burden,” I whisper. “Blood and sacrifice.”

  My heart sinks. Does this mean what I think it means?

  I can’t bear to bring myself to say the words, or even think them. It’s too much.

  Grabbing the Caudex, I take a final look around the room and rush back the way I came—through the wall and into the small alcove where Ammon stands, befuddled. The Caudex still clutched in his hands.

  “Well?” he asks, “Whatcha find?”

  I look down, realizing the Caudex I had in my arms is gone. Was it ever really there?

  “I—uh, let’s go,” I mutter, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind me.

  “Wait, what about the other you?” he asks, dragging his feet.

  I need to get out of here. I need fresh air to think properly. Being trapped inside the Archives with another version of myself suddenly makes me want to crawl out of my skin. The prophecy swirls in my mind, making me realize everything I’m doing is leading me on a suicide mission.

  “We need to go. Now— ”

  As we edge nearer to the way out, and the other version of myself and friends, the less I care about being seen or caught by them. At this point, I’m not sure I care what happens. My emotions and thoughts are swirling up into a potent, angry mixture and it’s threatening to bubble over.

  Is this all I am? A sacrifice?

  The thought invades my mind and I bite my lip. Rushing toward the door, I let go of Ammon, instinctively knowing how this all plays out. I’ve been here before, after all.

  As I get to the door, Ammon uses his ability to move the rock aside as we rush past. I know a few seconds behind us, the other me is about to follow through—heading toward the Helix as I try to escape Trae’s insinuations.

  I’ve been here, in this time, before. Ammon and I were the reason the other me had such tremendous luck when I wanted to get away. It was all in the timing. I continue on in whatever direction I feel pulled, knowing the other me never once had any inclination we were here. Instinctively, I know it will be the same now as history—or future—repeats.

  I throw open the hatch, and the cold winter air assaults my senses. Tethys is instantly at our side, ready for whatever is necessary.

  Shaking my head, I run my hand along her face.

  ~Not this time. You need to be ready for me. The other me. You have to make yourself known. It’s time.

  Knowing there’s a minute at most between us and the other me, I continue onward with Ammon�
��s hand interlocked in mine. I yank him behind a tree, just in time to see myself escape the Archives to head to the Helix. I witness the moment when I realize Tethys isn’t the monster I thought she was. The epiphany hits my eyes and cascades through my entire being as I remember my guardian for who she was. Then, I vanish before my own eyes as her shields engage.

  “Whoa. Is that what we look like?” Ammon stutters.

  I nod, “I suppose so.”

  “Weird.”

  “Yeah,” I say, crumpling down in the snow.

  “What’s going on, Runa? What happened back there?” Ammon asks. “Are you okay?”

  Without a word, I flip open the Caudex to check if the prophecy is still here. When I find the page, and see the words written in black and white—I spin the book around for him to read. He reads silently, his face solemn and still until the very end.

  “Through blood and sacrifice?” he whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I raise my eyebrows, “Exactly what we’re both thinking, I’m guessing.”

  “That can’t be right. I mean, what’s the point of all this trial stuff if it’s just to sacrifice yourself at the end of it? Why not just open a big hole and ask you to jump in it?”

  “Maybe there was never a point, other than to serve the purpose of the prophecy.”

  Ammon sits quietly for a minute.

  “What if you didn’t do it?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.

  I look up into his serious face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if you called it quits? Like, okay, ‘I’ve had a good run, but I’m done now’ sorta thing,” he says, closing the Caudex and handing it back to me.

  I shrug. It’s not something I considered because everything that’s happening feels out of my control. As if it’s all playing out the way it’s meant to and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

  “I don’t know if it works that way, Ammon,” I whisper.

  “Why not? You’re the Daughter of Five, right? It says right here you have to deliberately agree to deliver your life—or whatever. What if you deliberately didn’t?”

  Suddenly, Trae lunges out of the hatch, scanning wildly around. I tug Ammon against me, covering his mouth so we sit silently together and wait.

  When Trae is nothing but a small dot in the distance, I release his mouth.

  “Was that—?” he says without finishing.

  I nod.

  “He looks young.”

  I smirk slightly at the obviousness. It’s a welcome relief in the midst of my inner turmoil.

  “It’s not like I was always in love with someone old enough to be my father.”

  Being with Trae and everything we share feels so right, yet so far away. Like it was a fleeting moment in my short life and I may never get that back.

  I may never get him back.

  I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I will find a way to get back to him and let him know how much I love him.

  With that thought, the Caudex bursts open and white light consumes us both.

  19

  Runa

  WHEN THE LIGHT PULLS BACK, my brain can’t process what to take in first. The visual information is brutal. From the strange way the light penetrates, to the heavy ironworks around us, to the way the stone walls, floors, and ceilings are full of etchings that make no sense—it’s all too much.

  “Where are we now?” Ammon asks, edging close to me so he can slide his hand in mine. I shift the Caudex to my left hand, propping it against my hip.

  This shifting back and forth is starting to weigh on him.

  For the first time, I’m taken aback at both his strength and willingness to join me on this strange mission I seem to be on. It’s not his burden, yet, he’s come along so willingly.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper.

  Walking to the nearest wall, I trace some of the etchings with my fingertip. I’ve never seen this type of drawing before. Perhaps it’s writing. I’m not even sure.

  Every time I feel like I know where my mission is and my next plan, the Caudex seems to have a different one for me. As if everything I’m experiencing isn’t even for my own benefit. It’s more like I’m merely an observer, rather than a participant.

  The room is relatively small, and cold. Gripping Ammon’s hand, we walk tentatively down a short hallway to a larger, open room. The etchings are gone, but the stone walls and strange decor remain.

  I’ve never seen a room built quite like this, but in some strange way, it reminds me of the cavern system of the Haven and Lateral. Its dark, stone encasing is similar, I suppose. To the far end of the larger room is a broad, wooden and iron door. Without a word, we walk to it and I push the door open.

  Instantly, my senses are assaulted by the cold, bitter wind of winter and intensity of the sun’s light on snow. Though the sun isn’t nearly as high in the sky as it was on the desert side, it’s still higher than what I’m used to.

  Taking slow, deliberate steps, Ammon and I wordlessly consume our surroundings. Completely treeless, and devoid of life, the stone walkway in front of us opens to a large courtyard of crimson colored statues. They appear to rise out of the pure white snow, red blemishes that don’t belong. As we edge closer, I stand at the foot of one and look up into its wide open eyes and gaping mouth.

  “How peculiar,” I whisper to myself.

  “Are those what I think they are?” Ammon says, backing up.

  I turn to face him. His eyes are open wide and he steps back.

  “What do you think they are?”

  “They look like people sculpted in blood,” he says.

  I shake my head.

  “No, that can’t be right. I’m sure they’re just colored red—”

  I reach out, touching one of the ice sculptures with my fingertip. The crimson ice melts at my touch, painting my skin red. It crackles between my fingers, sending off sparks of blue light. Smoothing the liquid between my thumb and pointer finger, I bring my fingers to my nose. The sweet, oddly metallic smell of blood is evident.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Ammon asks, then biting his lower lip.

  I nod.

  “Knew it.”

  “Why on Pendomus would anyone do something like this? Why use blood to create ice sculptures?”

  “Who knows. Probably sick and sadistic, by the looks of it,” he mumbles, taking a step back.

  There’s only one person I know who’s this sick and sadistic. Only one whose moral compass is clearly broken in this sick kind of way. It just so happens he’s also the reason I’m being transported through time.

  “We need to get out of here,” I say, turning to Ammon.

  “Well, thank the planet for that,” he sighs. “How do we get outta here?”

  “You don’t,” a voice calls out.

  Stepping out from behind one of the statues, a tall, dark skinned woman with long wavy hair emerges. Her eyes glow with a tinge of purple around the edges, but beyond that, they’re completely white—matching the color of the soft flowing gown that contrasts her skin.

  “Your destiny is deeply tied to this location. Before anything else, you must first understand the meaning behind this place,” the woman continues.

  “Who—who are you?” the words stumble out.

  She smiles softly.

  “This form is one that’s borrowed. It’s taken me a while to get it in the right place and time to follow you. The fabric of space and time is unraveling, and it won’t hold for long.”

  “I don’t understand?” I blink, trying to place why her demeanor is so familiar.

  “You know me by Adrian, Runa. Though I was in my natural form when we last spoke. Please, both of you, walk with me. I don’t have much time,” she says, grabbing both my free hand and Ammon’s.

  With each of us on either side, we walk back the way we came, passing the crimson sculptures. Their gaping mouths and eyes a bit more ominous.


  “So, you’re like, what? Runa’s guardian?” Ammon asks.

  Adrian laughs, “No my child. I don’t have the form to protect Runa. That’s Tethys’ job. I am merely a guide. I have waited millennia for her.”

  “Oh,” Ammon says.

  “And for you.”

  “Huh?” Ammon sputters, stopping in mid-stride.

  Adrian smiles, squeezes my hand and turns to him, “Have you not wondered why you’ve been brought along with Runa this whole time? Why you were the first encounter she had when her quest began?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess. Sorta. I just figured she was protective of me. Or that she didn’t have time to—”

  Adrian touches his cheek, then turns to me, “And you, Daughter of Five. Has it never occurred to you why Ammon has been your companion through all of this?”

  “I—well, I’ve been grateful for him. I guess I’ve never looked at it as something to question,” I say, my thoughts flickering to all the things we’ve been through together.

  “Runa, darling, when we last spoke, you had a mission that was going to be higher than the rest. This little boy, he’s the one you were meant to be searching for. He’s the one you were meant to recover.”

  Adrian waits, letting this revelation set in a moment.

  “What are you talking about?” I finally sputter. “You told me I needed to save my brother. That his link to me would make things dangerous if he wasn’t found. I haven’t even had the chance to find Baxten yet. Every time I get close, I’m shifted away. Ammon here, he can’t possibly—”

  “I’m afraid Baxten’s course is his own, my dear Runa. It’s best to consider him gone,” she says.

  My heart sinks.

  “You, you’re saying he’s—?” I sob.

  “It’s what Videus does. Look around you,” she waves a hand in front of her, motioning toward the statues.