Escape from Harrizel (33 page)

Everything stills.

I can’t move. I want to, but something in my
stomach pins my heels to their post. It’s what’s ahead—what
might
be. Pratt, on the ground, paralyzed and caught in one
of Tetlak’s nets, her eyes a desperate plea for help. Will I be
able to resist this time? Or will I fail, unintentionally enacting
the counterstrike today, by sheer, raging adrenaline?

The argument rises and I take off again, a
huge crowd growing around the silver domes. People fly at each
other as I soar through, clawing my way to the storm’s epicenter,
praying to see another face—
any
other face—besides hers.
Crashing through, my mind races at the sight. It’s a young girl,
maybe a few years older than Pratt. A thin red line spills from her
abdomen, her body twitching as her blank stare sits fixed on the
clouded sky above.

I’m yanked back by my wrist. About to snatch
my hand free, I turn, finding Reid steering us through the tightly
knit and suddenly violent mob. We emerge into the open air just in
time, a huge fight breaking out behind us.

“Stay here.”

“But…” I push forward.

“Stay here!” he holds my shoulders. I try
moving past him but he blocks me back again, raising his voice to a
shout. “
Stay here!”
Reid’s off to the fight joining the
other Rogues who are already breaking it up as Tetlak swims in the
middle.

Everyone is over there, all the Gollop and
Transport workers, the Arrivals and new recruits. It’s like a
magnet drawing all bodies, surrounding the action. They all swarm
the fight while that girl lies in the middle, her vacant eyes
swimming in my mind. There’s got to be some way to save her.

A Tregmint
!

If she still has a chance, she’ll need one.
What did Sampson say?
Deep crimson-purple, oval- shaped…thick
yellow roots
. They’ve got to be around here. I look toward the
jungle when it flutters past.

The black blur.

I hold my breath and keep motionless,
willing it to reappear. A moment and then it does, flying in front
of me, right past my nose, almost deliberately. No bigger than a
child’s fist, it has black toothpick limbs and an opaquely dark
head the size of a pinky nail. Another one appears behind it and
another, the three hovering inches from my face.

My hand raises slowly, my fingers
outstretched to touch them but they withdraw. The yelling continues
in the background, quickly dying out. I’m afraid to look and find
the status of the fight, in fear they—whatever these creatures
are—will go. But they’re moving again, forward, in front of my
face, demanding my attention. Once they have it, they withdraw
again, back toward the gate’s entrance, toward the jungle.

They want you to follow
.

I glance over my shoulder at the fight.
There’s still a mob around the same area, everyone locking eyes on
Tetlak as he growls, jabbing his three-pronged staff to stop it.
Biting my lip, I face the gate’s entrance again, one of the winged
creatures in front of me. It flutters just above my nose, its tiny
black arm outstretched for me. Then it flies away, lost in the
distance as it disappears for the jungle ahead.

I put logic aside and focus on instinct.

Racing for the Water Pole, I drop to the
ground, searching. There’s got to be a latch somewhere. That metal
ladder Raj and I found—it was here, for the Water Pole. There must
be an entrance. I slide my hands over the ground, finding a small
metal hook and yank up. Yes! The ladder is right below and I jump
down into the darkness.

Blinking, I reach for my Callix.

I hold it outstretched in front of me and it
illuminates a foot of sight ahead. Grazing my free fingers along
the grainy wood of the surrounding walls, I move slowly, one step
at a time, my heart pounding in my chest. I use my right hand to
see and my left to guide, maneuvering through the tunnels using
Reid’s trick. I only come to a few junctions where multiple tunnels
cross but I close my eyes, letting my fingertips guide the path.
When the texture changes to smooth, tightly-compacted pieces of
particles, I stop and open my eyes, backing up. I do this, feeling
the texture of the grainy wooden root until it leads me down the
correct path. My heart’s pounding the entire time, wishing I had
someone down here with me. Wishing those flying creatures—whatever
they are—were down here, guiding me like before. Why am I even
following them?

They need to show you something.

It’s the same voice that calls me to Ellae,
the one I’ve only just met, as if part of me was asleep the whole
time.

Something important… something you must
find…

I use this to urge each foot forward when I
desperately want to turn back. But I need to find that Tregmint. I
need to be able to save at least
her
life. Reid is probably
freaking out, wondering where I’ve gone. But he’ll understand. And
even if he doesn’t, it’s not about him. I need the Tregmint. I need
it for us, for her… the one I still might be able to save.

But I’ll need to get it and leave.
Fast
. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been down here.
Everything is broken into seconds. Heartbeats. And I must have had
one million of them by now. I’ve got to be coming to an outlet
soon. Just as I start thinking I might have taken a wrong turn
somewhere, the ground lifts into four wide steps with an
overhanging latch etched into an outline in the wood above.

Thank God.

Sliding my hand through, I hold my breath.
This could lead anywhere. Different parts of Ellae… someplace new…
but hopefully, to my winged guides who will still be out there. I
need them there to remind me this isn’t all in my head.

Lifting the handle, I push the door open and
freeze.

A howling gust drifts through the quiet
shadows of the jungle’s oversized silhouettes. It sets a rustling
loose and trees shake in response as ivy swings with great abandon,
whipping into walls of stone and fauna. Everywhere, a thick white
mist settles along the soil, obscuring the ground from sight.

This is it.

Before heading out, I take a mental snap
shot, memorizing. To the left, two bushes squat with overflowing
tongue shaped leaves. Just off from them, three thin trunks keep
close company, lost in coats of moss and ivy. To the far right, a
waist-high fragment of wall remains, draped in the same lush
exterior, it’s stone nearly hidden beneath folds of green.

Two bushes, three trees, one
wall
.

I search my tree for any distinguishable
features. There’s a slanted carving just inches above the opening
and knots like giant onions that spring below one of the upper
branches. Holding this image for a moment, another gust howls
through, rustling the trees again. With a permanent chill etched in
my spine, I carefully climb free, closing the door back behind me,
and I head into the mist.

Where are they? Where to go now?

As quickly as I’ve asked, something flashes
ahead. White wings speckled with black. They flutter like
fireflies, swimming to each other, to me, and then back again,
pulling further past Ellae. I’m in the middle somewhere, in an
alley or between homes. The wall fragments don’t belong together
and each time I slow, trying to map the city in my head, they
flutter past again, reminding me.

There’s something you must find…

But where’s the Tregmint? It can’t be much
further. We’re here, in the heart of the city… where else could it
be? We’re traveling farther than I imagined Ellae could stretch.
When I think they’re going to stop, that we’re almost
there—wherever
there
is—they sail further inward, pulling me
deeper into the jungle, deeper through Ellae’s ruinous remains. I
pause only a few times, throwing a look over my shoulder, glancing
into the blackness behind me.

Is it too late to turn back now?

They’re fluttering inches from my nose,
drawing me north again. At this point, there’s only one way to go.
It’s forward and that’s where I keep my Callix, my heart racing in
my chest. I can do this. Find the Tregmint and get back. Just find
it and get back. With a deep inhale, I keep going. Soon there are
fewer and fewer walls and after a while, they disappear
completely.

There’s no more city.

Did I miss the Tregmint?

Seriously debating a turn around, I’m led to
the edge of the jungle where a thicket of solid, Banyan-sized trees
skyrocket, independent of one another and free from the extra fauna
that connected them in the jungle. The white mist carries past,
coating the ground in its opaque blanket and hiding their
gargantuan roots.

Can’t turn back now.

I cross the threshold into the darkened
forest, my strand of pulsating veils my only source of light. I
wish the wind would rustle. I wish there was any other sound
besides my heavy breathing reminding me I’m alone. Reminding me of
the fear I’m trying to forget. But the distraction never comes and
I end up convincing myself it’s just the normal sound of a
heartbeat.

A faint voice drifts from somewhere ahead
and I freeze.

My heart pounds so loud that I’m afraid
it’ll give me away. But nothing’s happening. I’m still as a statue
and there’s no rustling, no footsteps crunching through leaves.
Maybe I imagined it. There’s nothing, no sound, no one—

Her voice sails again.

It’s a gentle whisper, thin as a veil of
smoke and so soft that I almost don’t hear it. But it’s night, and
the only thing that’s audible is the thunderous thumping in my
chest. Gulping, I try finding breath again as I peer into the
darkness ahead.

My white winged guides usher me on, straight
for the source of the sound.

Almost there. Just a little farther...

Gripping my Callix, I force myself forward.
But I want to turn around.
Right
now. There’s something evil
out here. I can
feel
it. My heart is about to explode under
its emphatic racing and suddenly, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to
do this alone.

The voice moans louder. “…Gff…”

“H-hello?”

Silence.

“Is…”

A sharp cry followed by quick mumbles, “Gff…
gffn… I wone’foget th’marow…”

Every instinct is roaring against this,
urging me to flee immediately. To save myself while I still have
the chance. It’s the fear reflected in Hinson’s eyes—in Raj’s. It’s
the fear they felt, coursing through me, pumping in my veins.

Lifting the Callix, which now seems to cast
a smaller glow, I search for the voice’s owner. But no one’s out
here. Just trees. Tall, single trees.

“…Wone’foget th’marows next time…
Y’did…”

She’s right in front of me. But there was no
one there a second ago. It was just a tree, the wide trunk of
a—

Lifting my Callix, I stifle a scream.

Skin.

Everywhere
.

It’s stretched out, bled white, lifeless.
And in the middle, most of a face. Lips lower than they should be,
pale white and melded into the trunk. Tufts of blonde hair sprout
sporadically. Two blue eyes bat away, lifeless. They don’t see
me—they don’t seem to see anything but stare blankly ahead. I want
to look away—the rising bile in my throat strongly suggests it—but
I’m stuck.

“Gffn…” her tongue flops, a vacant stare,
“…I wone’foget th’marows nest time…y’did… alwez like ‘um bess.”

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not…

I cup my mouth but it’s no use. Falling to
my knees, I vomit onto an unusual patch of ground. Wiping my mouth
with the back of my hand, I push up with my other hand, stopping
again. The ground… it feels familiar. It feels strangely…

I stifle another scream.

Skin
everywhere
—growing off the trees
and over the ground, covering the forest floor. Shuffling back to
my feet, I lift my Callix, holding my breath. The blossom’s light
only shines so far, but it’s enough. And when I see it, all air
leaves my body. A strong part wants to shut down now, give in and
succumb to the overwhelming fear that’s suffocating me into shock.
I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not
real…

Faces.

Everywhere—
as far as the eye can see.
Faces and arms and knees and elbows, all sprouting from the trees,
melded to it, growing like parasites.

My arm shaking, I hold the Callix to the
closest tree again.

“H-Hinson?”

She sniffs suddenly. Her parted lips chomp
but are too far to close. She tries chomping again and again but
her mouth won’t snap shut. A hungry moaning erupts, igniting the
others. They all come alive, all snarling over each other, their
hungry moans melding to a cacophonous river of terror. The gaping
pit in my stomach soars, threatening to hold me here, to keep me
here forever if I don’t move.

Now.

Spinning, I fly back the way I came,
tripping instantly. I scramble up only to fall again, my feet
moving too quickly. But they’re not moving quickly enough. Faster.
I need to be going faster. I need to get away from there, need to
put as much distance between them and me. They’re all talking over
one another, muttering incoherently, and I clamp my hands over my
ears.

I can’t be here. I can’t be here…

I focus on the roots jetting out to trip me
again. Watch your footing. Focus on your footing, I instruct
myself. Remain calm. You can do this. No matter how terrible you
feel. No matter what you’re running from—just keep focus.

Keep focus.

The thick white mist doesn’t help but after
a minute, I get my footing back on track, finding a good rhythm of
leaping over the roots. I dropped my Callix at some point so I’m in
darkness—complete and utter darkness. And alone. So very alone.

I’m racing through the trees but at a pace
slow enough to detect the varying shades of black. The calls still
whimper, slicing through the night behind me but they lower with
each passing minute. They grow from one undetectable murmur to a
soft, faint whisper just as I reach the edge of the jungle again.
Flying through, I
desperately
wish I had my Callix. There
are more than just trees here but all sorts of fauna and odd shaped
shrubbery. With so many different silhouettes, I can’t tell what’s
what. Leaves, ivy, deadly plants…