Page 20

CHAPTER 20

S asha

There are no words to describe what I see. This is a mirage, something that belongs in the feverish land of dreams, not in the dryness of this desert planet that I loathe with all my heart.

And yet, it’s there, right in front of me.

The stone morphs further, so big and thick it must weigh close to a ton and yet, it’s completely silent as it opens and closes behind us like some sort of gelatinous mass. I turn as it sits back in its place and press my hand to it, half expecting it to be some sort of illusion.

It’s not. It’s as hard and cold and unyielding as any rock I’ve ever touched.

In the back of my mind, I marvel at it just as I marveled at the transport. I’ve never seen technology like this. It’s like it’s not even technology, but some form of sentient being created by the Huugwors from the rocks.

But then I forget all about that strange, moving rock. My brain is swallowed in awe as I stare at what appears to be a village inside a cave made entirely of glowing white crystals. Everything is white with the exception of small bits of rainbow as some sort of ambient, reflective light diffracts inside the stalactites and stalagmites reaching for each other from the floors to the ceiling like fingers from sleeping giants.

The floors are solid white stone polished to a high shine, but as I follow in the Huugwors’ footsteps, our feet make no sound. I glance down, realizing the floor gives in just a hint as we walk. Like those stones absorb our steps. Like it’s not stone at all.

My mind reels and rebels against all this information, everything here so unlike the Valcan I’ve known since my birth that my brain threatens to shut down. But it doesn’t, because I don’t let it. I need to know more, I need to see more.

I follow the Huugwors through winding streets made of the same polished white stone as the entrance, my footsteps silent despite the hard surface beneath my feet. The buildings rise around us, their walls carved from pure obsidian that gleams like black glass in the diffused light. Each structure flows into the next in organic curves, as if the entire village grew from the cave floor rather than being built.

Fabric in rich jewel tones hangs across doorways and windows—deep purples, emerald greens, and sapphire blues that stand out against the black stone like precious gems. The colors catch the light that filters through the crystalline ceiling and makes it dance. A gust of warm air brushes past us, carrying the scent of something sweet and unfamiliar. The fabric doorways flutter, creating a rippling rainbow effect through the street.

Movement draws my attention to those windows and doors. Dark gray faces peek out at us, their blue eyes glowing as they watch our procession. Children dart between buildings, only to be pulled back by adult hands. The whole village holds its breath as we pass.

My gaze keeps returning to Eirik on the stretcher. His skin has taken on an ashen tone that makes my chest tight. The warriors carrying him move with careful precision, but his head lolls lifelessly with each step. I can’t tell if he’s breathing anymore. In any other circumstance, I would be mesmerized by the alien beauty of this hidden place. But right now, all I can focus on is Eirik’s still form and silently willing him to hold on.

I follow the procession out of the village, my steps silent on that strange, giving stone. The building we approach dwarfs the others, its obsidian walls stretching up toward the crystal ceiling. No fabric hangs in its doorways or windows. No decoration mars its sleek surface.

Inside, the Elder moves to sit on a massive stone chair. The seat appears to be carved from a single piece of black rock, its surface smooth and hard. My mind catalogs the lack of cushions or blankets, wondering if Huugwor skin is as tough as it looks.

The room’s focal point draws my attention—a circular pool dominating the center. I edge closer, peering down into water so black it seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. The depth is impossible to gage, the bottom lost in darkness.

The warriors carrying Eirik’s stretcher stop on the far side. Their faces remain impassive as they hold his limp body above the inky surface. My escort’s hand tightens on my arm when I try to step forward.

The Elder’s wrist flicks in a sharp gesture.

Before I can cry out, they tip the stretcher. Eirik’s body slides off and hits the water with barely a splash. He sinks like a stone, swallowed by that impenetrable blackness.

“No!” I lunge forward, but the warrior beside me holds firm.

“Let me go!” I struggle against the iron grip holding me back, my muscles straining against hands that feel like steel bands around my arms. “What are you doing? He’ll drown!”

The black water shows no ripples, no signs of disturbance where Eirik disappeared beneath its surface. My heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe. The silence in the chamber feels like a physical weight pressing down on my chest.

“You murderous bastards!” I kick backward, aiming for my captor’s knee, but they shift just enough that my heel meets solid muscle instead. “He trusted you! He’s one of your own!”

The Elder sits motionless on his obsidian throne, watching me with those unsettling pale eyes. His face might as well be carved from the same stone as his chair for all the emotion he shows.

“I’ll kill you,” I snarl, baring my teeth at him. “I’ll find a way to make you pay for this, I swear it. You think you’re safe in your hidden caves? I’ll bring this whole place down around you!”

My voice echoes off the smooth walls, bouncing back at me until it sounds like a chorus of threats. The Elder doesn’t so much as blink. His stillness only feeds my rage.

“He risked his life to warn you! How could you just let him die?” My voice cracks on the last word. “What kind of monsters are you?”

The water remains perfectly still, an obsidian mirror reflecting the crystalline ceiling above. There’s no sign of struggle, no bubbles breaking the surface. Nothing to indicate Eirik is fighting for his life somewhere in those depths.

Maybe he’s already gone.

My screams die in my throat as the water begins to move. At first, just small ripples disturb the surface, and my heart leaps with desperate hope. But then the ripples grow into bubbles, too many and too large to be caused by someone trying to reach the surface.

The bubbles increase until the entire pool churns like a boiling cauldron. My skin prickles with an electric charge that fills the air. A faint blue glow emerges from the depths, so dim I think I’m imagining it at first.

The light intensifies, spreading through the water like the tentacles of some hidden monster. It pulses in rhythm with the bubbling surface, growing stronger with each beat until I have to squint against its brilliance.

My captor’s grip remains firm, but I barely notice it now. I can’t look away from the incredible display before me, my mind struggling to process what I’m seeing. The water itself seems alive, crackling with energy that makes my teeth ache and the fine hairs on my arms stand on end.

The blue radiance builds to an almost unbearable intensity. It fills the chamber, throwing strange shadows across the obsidian walls and making the crystals overhead sparkle like stars. The light burns my eyes, but I force them to stay open, searching desperately for any sign of Eirik in that otherworldly glow.

Through it all, the Elder remains motionless on his throne.

I stagger back as the light suddenly extinguishes, plunging the chamber into darkness. My heart pounds against my ribs as silence descends, heavy and thick. The water’s surface grows mirror-smooth, reflecting the dim glow from the crystal ceiling.

Something’s coming. I feel it in my bones, in the electric charge still crackling across my skin. The air itself seems to hold its breath.

Dark shapes slice through the water with fluid grace as an arm breaks the surface, reaching up with open fingers. Desperate, grappling like a drowning man.

The Huugwor warriors all rush forward; even the one that was holding me lets go to join his brethren. Their movements are precise and coordinated as they reach for something thrashing in the water.

Eirik. It’s him. He’s alive in there.

I lean on the side of the pool, my fingers hurting as I grab the stone edge too hard. I strain to see through the darkness, but all my human eyes see are vague shapes.

They haul a large form from the depths and release it as it rolls around on the floor. It takes me a moment to understand what this large, writhing form is.

It’s Eirik.

His body jerks as he draws in air in a desperate gasp that echoes off the obsidian walls. He thrashes for a moment before finding his footing, confusion written across his features as he pats his side.

His completely healed side where the blaster wound should be.

My mind rebels and fights against the confines of my skull as I watch Eirik sit down on the floor, breathing in air and looking all around with a gaze that is shedding confusion by the second.

If only I could do the same. I can’t. I just stand there, as unmoving as the stone. Then his eyes find me and it’s like a spell that suddenly breaks down.

“Eirik!” I sprint forward. My boots slip on the wet stone, but I don’t care. All that matters is reaching him.

I crash into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist. He’s soaked and cold, so cold, but solid and whole beneath my hands. Tears spill down my cheeks as I press my face against his skin, breathing in the mineral scent of the strange water.

“You’re alive,” I choke out. “I thought they killed you, I thought?—”

His arms fold around me, strong and steady. I cling tighter, not caring that my clothes are getting soaked or that the Elder watches us with those unnerving eyes. Eirik is alive. He’s healed. Nothing else matters right now.

I feel the Elder’s gaze on us like a physical weight, his pale eyes boring into my soul. He speaks in that melodic language of theirs, each word falling like droplets of water in a cave.

Eirik’s arm tightens around me as he responds, his chest rumbling against my cheek. The language sounds different when he speaks it, rougher, more urgent. I catch Lady Ozura’s name among the foreign syllables.

I should be terrified. I’m deep underground in a hidden city, surrounded by warriors who could snap me like a twig. The Elder’s penetrating stare alone should have me squirming with fear.

But all I can focus on is the steady thump of Eirik’s heart beneath my ear. The rhythm speaks of life, of strength returned. His skin still carries the mineral tang of that mysterious pool, but warmth has begun to seep back into his flesh.

I press closer, uncaring of the water soaking into my clothes. This is where I belong. The thought springs unbidden into my mind, as natural as breathing. It should frighten me how right it feels to be held in his arms, how perfectly I fit against his chest. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding attachments, protecting myself from the pain they bring.

Yet here I am, clinging to this alien warrior like he’s my anchor in a storm. Maybe he is. His heartbeat drums a soothing melody against my cheek, drowning out the Elder’s demanding tone and the whispers of the gathered warriors.

Nothing else matters right now except that steady rhythm proving Eirik is alive, whole, and holding me close.