Escape from Harrizel (29 page)

“I don’t want anything.”

“Fallon,” he stops us again, “come on.
Reid’s going to ask and I’d like to have something to tell
him.”

“But I
don’t
want anything.”

“Well, you better think of something,” he
starts us walking again, “because if I have to sit through another
session about the importance of
helmets
, I’m going to lose
it. Thank God Jace suggested the flower.”

Able and I walk the rest of the way in
silence until reaching the end of the tunnel. There’s extremely
little light, except for the handful of babeebs, so maneuvering
outside takes a minute. But once we emerge, I know we’re close to
the ruins. I can
feel
them. Inhaling the damp foliage, I
scan the thin white mist settling over the ground, blanketing it as
the leaves rustle from a soft breeze.

Reid passes out fold-up basket devices to
each of us.

“Tucker, Able, Jace,” he gestures to the far
left, “over that way, not past that first wall,” he indicates a
broken stone structure that disappears into the canopy. “Simon,
Ando, Niles, Sampson, maybe right here in the middle, and Vix,
Pratt, Fallon,” he gulps, “to the right.”

Everyone disperses at his command, moving
for his or her designated area.

“Here,” Vix indicates, pointing to a plump
bush of Marowines, dotting the plain of grass ahead, “all out here.
You take them like this,” she crouches, tugging the thick brown
root from the ground and plucking the swollen red berries. She
places them in her basket and reaches for another root, yanking out
five more. “Once you fill your basket, just press down like this,”
Vix retrieves what looks to be the basket top, but pushes it down,
almost to the bottom. I think she’s squishing the Marowines and
expect the red juice to gush forth but nothing is happening.
“They’re pliable,” she explains, “that’s why we collect so many. We
can bring more back.”

“What about the Gupples and…”

“Reid, Jothkore and Sampson usually collect
them.”

I glance at Pratt who’s at another bush, the
bottom of her basket already filled. I walk past her and Vix,
heading out further, giving myself distance from them and the
others. Finding a small gathering of bushes up ahead, I crouch,
plucking the Marowines free the way Vix showed me.

The night is quiet and the jungle stills,
the mist thickening to an opaque fog. I lose myself in the
plucking, lost in thought over this evening. Over yesterday. Over
being out here—being this close to the ruins and their call to me.
Emptying each Marowine bush of the red berries as I come to them, I
wander farther ahead. I push down the top like Vix instructed, and
once the basket is filled, I find another bamboo separation and do
the same, pushing it as low as it goes. I find a few more of the
bamboo separations and with my basket not even half-full, I know I
should be able to collect plenty.

Wandering up further and past more of the
yellow-tongued bushes, I start to feel it. The
call
. That
instinctive voice that sings to me, like part of my soul I was
unaware of. It exists somewhere deep inside, only awakening when
I’m near them.

I’m close to the ruins.

Glancing behind me, Pratt and Vix are lost
to the smog and I’ve found myself in the middle of an opaque
lushness. Closing my eyes, I allow the voice to navigate me and
start moving in its direction. I move a few feet, my eyes shooting
open when I trip over a root. But Sampson catches my hand before I
fall.

“Best watch your step out here.”

“Sampson!” I grasp onto him. “Sorry!”

“It’s quite alright,” he grins, clutching my
hand to help me over the root, “but it’s probably best to keep your
eyes open. Why were they closed?”

“Just…” I motion ahead, to the stacks of
broken ivy-coated walls ahead, “trying to find my way.”

“You found it. Let’s explore then, shall
we?”

“Definitely!”

“So, how are you this evening?” Sampson
tosses out as we walk past a net of swinging vines and into the
clearing of broken walls.

“Fine—I’m glad we’re out here,” I turn to
him with sudden excitement, “can we pick up that conversation from
yesterday? Where I get to pick your brain a little?”

“Of course. And what an opportune
environment,” he walks past the first ivy-coated wall, dipping
below hanging vines. “What would you like to know?”

“I want to know more about you, about your
culture. About this place,” I gesture all around me, its name on
the tip of my tongue. But I can’t will it. I can’t hear it. It’s
right there…

“
Ellae
.”

I stop, the jungle pausing with me. Sampson
holds my stare, trying to register something in my eyes, in their
reflection of how I respond to the sound of that name. The corner
of his mouth tweaks, a gleaming smile throbbing beneath the robin’s
egg blue of his eyes.

“Ellae,” he repeats, stepping forward, his
palm flat against the stone remains, “my home. For a short period
of my life…” his fingertips trail gently down the ivy, “and the
best. It was quite beautiful at one time… lively.
Wonderful
.
We all honored the
Way
.”

“What’s the
Way
?”

“A philosophy among the three
worlds—Dellapalania, Mybyncia and Nerwolix,” his voice softens at
the last name, a wrenching sadness I can almost feel coursing
through me. “It’s a belief that all things in life are sacred, all
life forms
are sacred and should be cherished. It is belief
in the Three Gifts.”

“Three Gifts?”

“Sight, Knowledge and Ability—one given to
each world to hold for all eternity. Together, they create the
ultimate weapon,” he narrows his eyes. “
Power
. To create
life… or destroy it. But they’re never to be used together, never
to be on the same world at the same time. The Gifts are meant to be
kept separate, to keep the peace, the balance,” he sighs. “Not very
many still believe in their existence, I’m afraid.”

“But you do.”

Immense pain, loneliness and sorrow harden
beneath the robin’s egg blue of his eyes. Somehow, I can almost
feel
it. Feel him wanting to tell me everything, but the
thought of using those words all over again brings an agonizing pit
of sorrow to his stomach. He wants to call out for her, to say her
name just to hear it aloud again.

How can I know that?

“I didn’t always but…” he stops, his mind
racing again, “…yes, I do.”

Pratt comes shuffling toward us, swiping
hanging ivy from her path. “Reid says it’s time to go.”

“Already?” I exchange glances with
Sampson.

“Seems a little early,” he says, “doesn’t
it?”

“Well, not everyone. Just me, Fallon and
Vix.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? But we have to drop off with
Reid before we go,” she gestures to her overflowing basket.

Looking back to the ruins, to Ellae, I take
in her splendor once more. Turning to follow Pratt, Sampson joins
my side. With our time cut short, I search through my questions
from last night and blurt the first one I can think of.

“How did you save Reid?”

“Pardon?”

“When you found him. He said he got shot
with venom?”

“Oh—yes. He fell into a Plausinis Bush,”
Sampson shakes his head, “
extremely
toxic. Only takes one
barb and you’re done in hours. Two or more, matter of minutes. I
was nearby. I heard him.”

“But how did you
save
him? From the
Plausinis?” I push through a wall of shrubbery, Sampson following
just behind. “What’d you do?”
“Retrieved a Tregmint,” he takes a breath, anticipating my
question. “They can cure any ailment.”

“What do they look like?”

“Deep crimson-purple, oval shaped,” he nods,
adding as an afterthought, “thick yellow roots.”

“How’d you know where to find one?”

“Come on now, Fallon,” he tosses me a
mischievous grin. “You’re really going to ask me that?”

“So you know this area pretty well?”

“It’s my home…” his voice softens.

Holding back another net of ivy, Sampson
offers me passage and I step into a small clearing, finding the
rest of the group. Searching the ground for Pratt’s basket, I find
it feet from her own. I walk over and set mine next to it.

“Here fine?”

Reid nods. “Thanks ladies. We still have a
long way to go so why don’t you retire for the night?”

“You sure you don’t need any more help?” I
look around, searching Able’s face for an explanation. He simply
shrugs.

“No, it’s fine,” Reid nods. “We’ll probably
be out here for another half hour or so. Go back, get some
sleep.”

“Okay, well… thanks for letting me help,” I
glance to Pratt. “Ready?”

“Definitely.”

“Night Sampson,” I follow Vix and Pratt into
the bushes.

We reach the tree in minutes, dropping down
into the black tunnel and Vix leads the way, holding two babeebs in
her left hand. Pratt’s at her heels, holding a babeeb in her right.
I don’t have any, so I stick close to the two of them, moving at
their speed in a brisk calculated walk.

A few minutes goes by before Pratt breaks
the silence with an exhausted huff. “What a night.”

“I’m glad I was finally able to come with
you guys,” I admit. “I feel like I need to carry my weight.”

Vix veers left, into a new tunnel and Pratt
follows. “You
do
carry your weight.”

“How?”

But before Pratt can respond, Vix answers
ahead. “You inspire them.”

“Inspire who?”

“The rest,” she takes another new tunnel but
then stops to face me. “You stand up to Tetlak, to Reid. They’ve
never seen this. And you speak the truth,” she taps her chest with
her free hand, “from your heart. They see this.”

“It’s true,” Pratt nods, smiling under the
golden glow. “They like you.”

“Well…” and since I’m unsure what to say, I
try changing the subject. “At least we were able to get some
Marowines. Wish I could’ve stayed longer though.”

“You were speaking with Sampson,” Vix states
rather than asks, taking off again into the tunnel.

“Yes,” I move closer, just behind her, “he
was telling me about Ellae… and the Way.”

“
Aya-vellay
,” Vix whispers to
herself, touching her thumb to her lips and then, “you have many
questions.”

“Reid believes in it,” Pratt jumps in. “Once
Sampson told him about the Way, he’s clung to it like a new
religion,” she switches her babeeb to her other hand. “He’s got a
little black circle on his chest—got it soon after he met Sampson.
It’s some sort of honor, like taking an oath or something.”

“Chuloo,” Vix nods. “Mark of an Arizal
solider. Very honorable.”

“Does Sampson have one?” Pratt asks, moving
quickly behind her. “Do you?”

Vix nods but doesn’t elaborate. She focuses
on selecting the right tunnel when we come to a junction of four.
Without hesitation, she picks the second from the left and I’m on
her heels, trying to keep up with her long strides.

“What does it mean to be an Arizal soldier?”
I ask.

Vix stops, slowly turning to us, the babeebs
casting a soft golden glow across her smooth, ebony face. “It means
discipline. Strength.
Courage
,” she offers in three quick
spurts, “honoring the Three Gifts to keep balance. Protecting the
sanctity of life. To be an Arizal is to give yourself to something
greater. Something
purer
,” she turns, leading us through the
tunnel again.

“How did Reid become one?” I follow along
quickly.

“Sampson taught him.”

“That’s how you all know about the Callixes
and everything else…” I turn to Pratt.

She nods with a half shrug.

I need to know. The question has been irking
me since yesterday and there’s no better time than the present. I
try to keep my voice even, “Do you know if—did Reid ever give
Ansley one?”

“Not that I know of,” Pratt shakes her head,
“And I’d
seriously
doubt it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Like I said—he believes in that stuff. And
a Callix pretty much means love. So…” she shrugs, leaving me to
make the connection.

“Reid is an Arizal Soldier,” Vix says from
up front, “he’ll only give a Callix when he’s ready. When he’s
found the one he will want forever.”

I want to ask a million questions but my
mind’s already racing with everything I’ve learned tonight. We head
the rest of the way in silence as I ruminate over it all.

I need to talk to Sampson again.

I’ve been outside all morning and that’s the
one thing I’m sure of. I need to know everything I can. Maybe
tonight, when we gather, he can tell me about the Way, the prophecy
and Ellae—whatever he told or taught Reid. Every night at
gathering, Sampson can tell me more and little by little, I’ll be
caught up.

The dismissal bell screeches and I throw my
Senz into the bucket, following the others. Inside the Courtyard, I
head for the stairwell but only a few floors up, I feel it. Tossing
a casual glance over my shoulder, I see them instantly. Two sets of
eyes barreling into mine. Both belong to large, ferocious boys I
might’ve seen at some point. They’re vaguely familiar and not in a
good way, like they fell into the backdrop of some panicked
moment.

Shit.

At least I’m not alone. Right now, there are
plenty of other people so I’ll be fine if I can make it to my door.
I fly up the rest of the way, weaving in and out of bodies, making
sure I’m not the last one to my floor. Reaching it, I glance over
my shoulder. A knot grows in my stomach. They’re still following,
still in heavy pursuit. People are making it back to their rooms.
If I can just get to mine. I’m almost to mine—

My stomach drops.

Mantis is at my door. There’s a victorious
hint to the slight perk in his cheek but it’s overshadowed by his
obsidian eyes. They weigh me down, freezing me. He offers a light
laugh, as though surprised. “This was easy.”