Page 2 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Nenn’s knees threatened to buckle, but he persevered.

Sweat dripped off his chin, his arm cramped around the backs of Tugo’s thighs, and his smoldering foot bounced in Nenn’s peripherals.

Foq. Of all the things that could’ve happened, this wasn’t one he’d anticipated.

Guilt sliced through him, churning his stomach.

He sucked in great gulps of air to calm the nausea.

He’d have to find russmar and pray it would heal Tugo. Thankfully, Panior would travel off-world, leaving Nenn to carry Tugo’s burdens until he was well enough.

“Duviz,” Lama hollered, panic in the warble of his voice.

A giant of a male, Tugo’s father, leaped into the path at the base of the mountain. His eyes widened. He lowered his spear while roaring a battle cry that always made Nenn’s insides vibrate. He’d never been able to fathom if his reaction was from fear or awe. Perhaps a mixture of the two?

Behind him, more males appeared, their weapons ready.

Nenn wished he could watch the scene play out, but he was unable to bear Tugo’s weight for much longer.

As soon as he broke through the line of warriors forming, he fell to his knees and rolled Tugo off him.

Sprawling beside his friend, he stared at the sky, trying to breathe through the pain throbbing in every inch of his body.

Females gathered to tend to him, but he waved them to Tugo, whispering where he was injured. Someone brought Nenn water, their features a blur. When his hearts calmed, he sat up.

“What happened?” Elder Qon demanded, kneeling beside Tugo.

“His foot dipped into the river.” Nenn crawled to his feet.

“That is not what the symbiotes shared,” someone called out.

The voice was familiar, but Nenn didn’t have the time to find out who’d spoken. He had to harvest the fungi before night descended.

“Take care of him, Elder Qon. I will find a fresh cluster of russmar.”

“That is madness, young Nenn. The suns will set within an hour. It will take you that long to reach the crevice.” Elder Qon pointed to Tugo. “We might not even need it.”

Nenn glanced at Tugo whose face was pale, his eyes squeezed shut. White lines formed around his mouth where he pinched his lips. A study of his injury told its own story.

“I go,” Nenn said.

The first five steps locked his knees, then he pushed on, hobbling to the vast cavern below the lava pool.

Two warriors were on guard, their gazes vigilant.

Nenn didn’t pause to identify them, not having the time to peer through their iron helmets.

Sheets of stone lined the side, ready for export.

He slipped in through the broad archway.

Along the winding ramp, he sprinted, desperate to reach his home two levels below Tugo’s, to not waste a second.

He burst inside, startling a yelp from his father asleep on his pallet.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up. For once, his red eyes weren’t glazed over.

“I need…russmar. Tugo could lose a—” Nenn swallowed, yanking a coiled rope off a hook and looping it over his shoulder.

“You know where to go.” Father stumbled toward Nenn only to grab the empty pouch that sat beside the water barrel and shove it into Nenn’s hand. “Be prepared for anything,” he rasped before wrapping his arms around Nenn, his strength gone.

Nenn gathered his father close, wishing he could pour his life force into him and grant him a few more years. He ushered him to his bed and settled him. “You taught me well,” he said, offering a a weak smile. “Rest. I will not be long.”

He stepped back and waited a few precious moments for his father to drift off. After tucking a blanket over his sleeping form, Nenn sprinted out of his home, up the ramp, and into the suns’ fading light, veering right toward the rarely used paths up to the crevices.

Certain death lay ahead going that way. Young males used to believe mapping the widths and depths would garner them a nomination.

After so many lives lost, the elders had forbidden to attempt it.

He marched on, the rippling volcanic rock rolling out before him.

Qon was right to point out the suns setting, but Nenn knew the way, having gone with his father many times.

When the path disappeared, he carried on, aiming for a boulder that looked like a fossilized tree with its top half missing.

Ahead, dark, jagged scars came into view, scouring the mountain’s side.

The one he needed was hidden in the valley of a ripple, wide enough for a male to slip through.

A breeze cooled the sweat on his temple.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the constant throb of abused muscles.

None of his discomfort mattered, not when time did.

He paused beside a row of boulders and specifically near the one that looked like a distorted nipple, narrowing at the top. Tying a knot on the rope gave him a moment to focus his breathing, to gather his thoughts.

“Do not enter the mouth when worry is on your mind,” his father had warned.

Nenn hooked the rope on the nipple, then wrapped it around his wrist before peering into the darkness.

Far into the distance, a glimmer of orange implied magma awaited him should he fall.

He couldn’t let that thought control his actions.

With a shake of his head, he fitted the pouch across his chest, the opening in the front for easy access.

He turned, his back to the gap, then with his heels on the edge, he released the rope and repelled down.

The rope skidded through his grip, sending him plummeting.

With a cry, he tightened his hand. Fire blazed along the skin of his palms. He jerked to a halt, the rope whiplashing then bouncing him until it stilled.

A gust of heat flicked his hair back and made his eyes water.

The stench of sulfur hung thick in the air.

Below his dangling feet gaped the Habqus Abyss.

He set his heels flat on the rock wall and scanned the area, searching for a glimmer of purple.

Osnir must have abandoned him because he spotted nothing.

With a grunt, he twisted to peer below, hoping something would guide him.

To the far left, where a dribble of lava leaked down the rock, he caught the palest glow of lilac.

He could be wrong, but he had to try. Already the sky above had darkened.

Soon, only the magma below would light his way.

He dropped, caught himself, and sparked a hiss at the sting of rope against chaffed skin. The farther he sank, the brighter the bioluminescence, and the confirmation flooded his chest with warmth. There was a chance he could reach it in time.

A nudge on the rope not his doing had him glance up. White eyes peered at him. A banaari.

Fear seized his throat. He was alone and unarmed for the most part. Salvation from someone else wasn’t a possibility.

No, do not think about it. Focus on the russmar. His symbiotes spewed warnings: the rope could snap, the banaari would attack the moment he returned to the surface, or the russmar could shrivel up if he wasn’t gentle enough.

He willed them to quieten as he lowered himself, keeping his feet firm.

Inch by inch, he descended, the heat from the lava trickle almost too much to bear.

With a deep inhale, he swung himself over it, then slipped down until he was at eye level with a crack.

Rows of yellow audinna sheltered the delicate purple russmar in full bloom.

He grinned. Perhaps Osnir was with him.

When he reached his hand into the narrow opening, something lunged at him. On instinct, he pushed himself away, slamming his back against the opposite wall. Two eyes peered at him while a gray tongue flicked out from a black body.

He laughed, relief pooling in his belly. Indeed, he was blessed. For this night, he might be able to entice his father to eat with fresh vibuy meat.

Whipping out his knife, he lunged across and thrust out, killing the lizard in an instant.

A curse slipped from his lips at the ruined clusters of russmar around it.

With a sigh, he skirted to the right and stroked the nearest plant, massaging it like he would a sore thumb.

One by one, he worked along the ledge, gathering what russmar he could.

When he had to blink to see better, he glanced up and scowled. The suns had set.

He sheathed his knife, grabbed the vibuy, then shoved it into the stuffed pouch. White eyes gleamed at him while he climbed, the wailing rumble of banaari growing louder even as a cool breeze bathed his face.

When he was a foot from the surface, the banaari shoved its snout closer, its teeth inches from his hands. He hesitated, then whipped out his knife, slashing across to either injure the beast or scare it off. All he needed was a moment to find his feet on solid ground.

With a huff at the lost meal, he took out the vibuy and tossed it through the crack. It landed with a thud on the opposite side of the path. When the banaari leaped over the crevice, he hurled himself up and out, his gaze on the banaari tearing into the lizard.

He untied the rope and gathered it into a loop, not daring to blink lest the beast decided it was still hungry.

Then, with the rope over his shoulder, he inched backward.

The beast watched him between bites, its eyes glowing with intent.

The crunch of lizard bones between its teeth made him wince.

When he stumbled and caught himself with his hand on the rock, he didn’t glance away.

Once far enough, he swiveled on a heel and exploded into a run.

The banaari wailed. The thomp-thomp of its massive paws chased him down the mountain.

He leaped over boulders, skirted the fossilized tree, all while aiming for the flickering torches that marked the cave’s entrance. He bellowed warnings, his voice hoarse.

The two guards rushed forward, spears drawn.

Nenn skidded to a halt and faced the banaari, his harvesting knife in hand.

“Another, Nenn?” Laec demanded, his red eyes glowing.

His brother, Juirr, harumphed. “You have been busy.”

“How fares Tugo?” Nenn asked, not taking his gaze off the banaari hovering on the outskirts of the torch light.

“Not well. The damage is too much for his symbiotes to heal him. It is good you left for the russmar.” Laec nudged him. “Go! We can take care of one beast.”

Nenn hesitated then sheathed his knife. “My thanks. I assume he is with Kimgi?”

“Indeed,” Juirr said, then flicked his head as if to say ‘hurry.’

Nenn did, sprinting into the cave, taking great leaps over the narrow steps and into the bowels of the volcano.

Warmth poured off the hewn walls. Steam rose from pools a few used to bathe in.

He spared it all a token glance. Along various tunnels, he loped, wincing whenever he trod funny or jarred his legs.

His poor body had endured much this day.

Exhaustion hounded him, dogging his feet. When he rested, his body would recover.

At the fourth torch, he veered left until he reached the seventh door carved into the stone. He yanked on the chimes made of precious stones, strips of discarded metal, and molded balls of volcanic rock. The clang reverberated through him after the silence of the past hour.

The door, made of a thin sheet of stone, slid away to reveal Kimgi’s pale face. “Nenn?” A smile twitched her mouth.

“I have them.” He looped off the pouch and shoved it at her.

She took it, her fingers trembling. “Come.” She shifted aside and gestured for him to enter.

Elder Qon kneeled beside Tugo, bathing his foot in water. Tugo chomped on a strip of leather, sweat trickling over his cheeks.

“Nenn?” Elder Qon raised a hopeful gaze. “Did you find any?”

“I did,” he said.

Kimgi hurried forward, the pouch in a death grip.

“Good.” Elder Qon broke off a petal, pulled out the leather strip, and shoved the russmar into Tugo’s mouth. “We wait a moment for the numbness to take effect. I need boiling water, Kimgi, to make a paste.”

She darted around their home. A bed carved into a wall housed Tugo’s bulk with ease. Alcoves acted as shelves for food and garments. And a fire burned in the hearth, fueled by the gases leaking through cracks in the mountain.

Elder Qon worked in silence, mashing all the petals into a paste before applying it to Tugo’s foot.

“Nenn,” he crooned. “Where have you been?” A giggle escaped him, and he slumped, his gaze on the ceiling where tiny embedded venai stones merged to offer a warm light, shining like the stars in the sky.

“What happened? One moment, we were pock-leaping and the next, I am home with my gevatia . And why is my tongue furry?”

Nenn forced a grin when he was far from lighthearted. “Banaari hunted Elder Lama down the mountain. I have never seen him run so fast.” No, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the ‘agile’ Elder Lama, but the imagery was amusing. “You missed it all, my friend.”

Tugo mumbled as sleep claimed him.

“Find Dumis, and tell him, there is hope,” Elder Qon whispered, rising to squeeze Nenn’s arm. “You did well, young Nenn.”

“But they believe you caused it.” Kimgi clasped her hands before her, sadness in the gaze resting upon her mate. “The symbiotes refuse to reveal what led to this until your return. The tribe gather in the hall below.”

Nenn gaped, his mind reeling. “Why would I harm—”

“You risking the abyss in an attempt to be heroic…and nominated,” Elder Qon said. “Go. Allow the symbiotes to reveal the truth.”

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