When a collision grows imminent, I lower my shoulder and target his chest. The timing is perfect.
I hit Rivet just before he starts up the hill, ensuring his momentum hasn’t lessened whatsoever, creating a human shockwave that sends tremors through both our bones. But I am the aggressor in the collision, and I am ready for it, so he takes the worst of it by far. He is knocked off course, his feet momentarily leaving the rock and his body contorting awkwardly in midflight until he thuds onto a hard slab of rock more than fifteen feet away.
There are people who, if hit that hard, at that speed, might die. Unfortunately, Rivet isn’t one of them. Not even close. He is pure strength, sporting more muscle around his fingers and toes than most people have in their biceps, back, or abdomen. Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but not too far from the truth. Plus, he is wearing a thin layer of moldable body armor. The hit would’ve hurt, but to Rivet, pain is pleasure, all part of the game.
I glance up the slope to see if she’s gotten away okay. To my surprise she is at the top gazing down, watching my fight with Rivet. I want to run to her, to embrace her, to tell her what I’ve been feeling. But that is madness. Rivet will just kill us both. I need to give her time. It is the hardest thing in the world to push her away.
“Adele!” I scream. “Run!” I don’t have a chance to see if she listens to me, because I sense movement to my left.
The sick puppy is on his feet and drawing his sword before I even have a chance to say nanny nanny boo boo! which is probably good because it would just make him even angrier.
As it is, he is angry enough, charging me like a steamroller. Dong! The impact of his blade on mine jars my teeth, threatening to dislodge each and every one of them. His next swipe nearly takes off my head, but I manage to duck at the last minute.
Roc reaches my side, and I use one of my arms to thrust him behind me, out of danger. He has improved steadily during our training sessions, but he isn’t ready for the big leagues.
Rivet’s men surround us, jeering and taunting as their boss and I circle each other. Roc is like my unattached tail, hovering behind my butt. I look into Rivet’s eyes, hoping for some indication of mercy. I see only death. I am a good fighter, but it is too much. There are just too many of them. We are both going to die, and I haven’t even spoken to Adele. The only satisfaction I have is that I’ve given her a slim chance to escape.
Ziiiip! Something whirrs through the air, sounding odd next to the raucous cries of Rivet’s men. “ARGH!” one of the men roars. Rivet and I both risk a glance away from each other to see what is happening. A large guy with a patch over one eye is slumped to his knees and clutching his heart. A sixteen-inch shaft protrudes from his left breast, finned at the end. Blood dribbles from his mouth as he dies.
A chorus of zips and whirrs fills the air as arrows rain down on us. Realizing we are under attack by a seemingly deadlier foe than Rivet, I grab Roc and thrust him down, falling next to him flat. Cries of pain echo through the cavern as each of Rivet’s guards is taken out by precision targeting. Not one arrow so much as grazes our skin. They aren’t shooting at us—at least not yet.
I hunt for Rivet, but he is gone, either having lurked off or dove for cover somewhere. It is too much to hope that he’s been killed along with his men. I scan the bodies anyway, looking for their leader. He isn’t amongst the dead. I finally spot him by pure luck, as a stray beam of dome light catches the tip of his sword as he skulks off, escaping over a rock embankment and back toward the slums.
I stay down, preferring not to be mistaken for one of Rivet’s men.
Our saviors approach, their faces cloaked in shadow by dark-brimmed hats. Most of them clutch bows, cocked and ready to kill, while others have swords, like us.
The leader stands over me, his sword pointed close to my chin.
“I’ll be damned,” he says. “If it ain’t Prince Nailin himself. If I hadn’t heard the news this mornin’, I’d never have believed it. You’ll make a pretty prize for the star dwellers indeed.”
Chapter Thirteen
Adele
No beast of reality, or creature of imagination, is as terrible as mankind. Or as loving. It’s a contradiction. I’ve always liked contradictions. Today I see both sides of the coin unveiled in gruesome and beautiful imagery, captured by my eyes and filed away in my mind, like still shots taken by a world-renowned photographer.
First the terrible: Rivet. I can see the bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes at the end of the alley. He shouts something, to his men most likely, and then comes after us.
I am surprised when I catch up to Elsey first. She was in the lead, but is now falling behind as Cole’s powerful legs and Tawni’s long strides outdistance her. I urge her forward with a soft nudge on her back. I have no idea where her shortcut leads, but I hope it will be to a place we can hide.
Hiding is our only option. Fighting will be futile, as Rivet will have a horde of men with him, armed to the teeth and ready for action.
In the distance I see Cole and Tawni drop out of sight, presumably cresting a rise and banking down a slope. Glancing back, I can see Rivet gaining on us, flanked by his men. They look like robots, rigidly pumping their arms opposite their strides, programmed to obey only one command: kill.
“Go, Elsey, go!” I urge, trying to use my mind to magically lengthen her short legs.
We reach the spot where the others dropped away and feel gravity pull us forward, down a steep slope. Dusk is falling upon us rapidly—the overhead cavern lights dimming—and it is getting hard to see our feet on the gray stone. A sprained ankle or a slight stumble could cost us our lives.
Thankfully, our steps are true and we reach the bottom of the slope, veering left to where another trail leads up to a cave mouth. Cole and Tawni are waiting for us at the top.
I shouldn’t look back, but I do. Rivet is already halfway down the hill, having silently sped up, moving inhumanly fast, as if sensing that an end to the chase is near.
Elsey and I try to find an extra gear to allow us to reach the top of our slope before Rivet reaches the bottom of his, although I know in my heart the feat is impossible. We are caught and I know it, but I wasn’t raised to be a quitter. We push on. My thighs burn and my calves ache. My head is throbbing from the physical and mental stress of the chase.
I glance up to see how close we are to the top. I’ll never forget the look on my friends’ faces. They are staring past me, toward our pursuers. But their faces aren’t those of helpless prey about to be captured; rather, they look astonished, their eyebrows raised and mouths open.
We reach the top and I look back.
I involuntarily imitate their expressions, raising my own eyebrows and opening my own mouth. I am genuinely shocked by what I see.
Rivet is on the ground, rolling to a stop. Has he fallen? I don’t think so. A simple misstep wouldn’t capture Cole’s and Tawni’s attention so completely.
That’s when I see him.
Despite the dim lighting, I recognize him instantly. He is carrying a long sword, standing stoically, waiting to fight Rivet. His blond, wavy hair is ruffled, but in my mind not a single hair is out of place. He looks strong, confident, heroic. Clearly, he has saved us. So he is a hero of sorts.
He looks at me, locking eyes. A wave of emotion washes over me. He screams my name: “Adele!” At first I think he is beckoning me to him, but his second word clears up any confusion: “Run!”
Despite the urgency in his tone I remain frozen, watching what will happen next.
Rivet attacks, launching himself with an animal frenzy at Tristan. In a manner I can only describe as professional, Tristan blocks the attack and jumps back. I notice someone behind him, also carrying a sword. A friend of Tristan’s most likely, or so I hope.
Protectively, Tristan holds the other guy back with one arm while parrying and dodging Rivet’s strokes. The rest of Rivet’s men arrive, surrounding them. No! I think.
We have to do something. He’s saved us a
nd now he’s going to die for us.
I take a step forward, but a strong arm holds me back. “No,” Cole says firmly. “We have to go. It’s suicide.”
I try to struggle free, but Cole’s grip is iron. Tears spring up as I try to wriggle away. “Let go!” I yell. “Please, they’re going to kill him!”
Tawni’s face appears in front of me. She pulls Elsey beside her. “Think of your sister,” she says.
My body collapses, all fight gone from it. As much as I am willing to throw my life away in an effort to save Tristan, I know I can’t abandon Elsey. Not after all she’s been through. Not after all we have been through. I am all she has. And she is all I have.
I let myself get half-dragged, half-carried into the absolute darkness of the cave. I feel numb. Tears continue to well up and stream down my face, but they feel cold, emotionless, a neurological response to a stimulus, nothing more.
I barely notice as we cut a random path through the cave network. In the back of my mind I know we are in the Lonely Caverns. Although we haven’t necessarily meant to come this way, it is the perfect place to hide from Rivet. I remember the kids at school telling stories of the Lonely Caves, how kids are always getting lost in them, dying of starvation, or falling down bottomless pits. I used to fear the caves, but now they feel like a sanctuary.
I can hear Cole and Tawni whispering, making quick decisions about which side tunnel to take next. They are taking the most convoluted route possible, almost trying to get us lost in an effort to lose Rivet, who will surely be pursuing us again soon, if not already. But with each twist and turn, they recite the full list of the directional changes we have made so far out loud, trying desperately to remember the way back out. I try to memorize what they are saying, as a backup, but get confused halfway through. I’m still not thinking clearly, am still a bit of a mess.
But listening to the sounds of their voices also helps.
Eventually I get control of my body and am able to save Cole a lot of effort by walking on my own again. When I do, Elsey appears by my side, illuminated by a flashlight she is carrying. I notice that I have one as well—we all do. Funny how I can’t remember them being turned on or even someone giving one to me. We fall back from the others right away.
“Adele,” she says, her violet eyes radiating compassion. “Are you okay?”
I put my arm around her as we walk. What can I say to her? Actually, Elsey, I’m a complete wreck because a guy I have a massive crush on, a guy I’ve never met, a guy whose father abducted our parents, is dead, all because of me.
Instead, I say, “I’m okay now, Elsey, sorry to scare you like that.”
“I wasn’t scared,” she says. The matter-of-fact way in which she says it makes me believe her. Perhaps my sister is made of a tougher substance than I am. Or maybe she is just too young to understand the true horror of what has just happened, is just happy to have her big sister back.
“You’re very brave,” I say.
“What happened back there? Who was the guy that saved us? He knew your name, Adele.”
My face tightens and I try to get control of my emotions—take a deep breath. “It was no one,” I say.
“Tell me,” Elsey says. “I’m not a child anymore.”
There is so much truth in her eyes that I know she is right. Although she’d only been at the orphanage for six months, she’s changed, matured. Ten years might’ve passed in her mind. I can’t always protect her anymore.
I decide on the truth. “This might sound impossible…in fact, I’m not sure I believe it myself…I might’ve been seeing things…I was probably mistaken, but—”
“Adele, please, just tell me,” Elsey says, interrupting my ramblings.
I take another deep breath. Why is this so hard? Just say it. Say it. Say it! “I think it was Tristan Nailin,” I blurt out, feeling dread wash over me, as if by speaking his name I have cemented his fate.
I expect Elsey to giggle, to look at me with knowing eyes, to say Sure it was, Adele, I believe you, using the sarcasm that I taught her. She surprises me by saying, “I thought so.”
“You what?” I say, unable to hide my surprise.
“He looked like Tristan,” she says with a slight nod of her head. “I mean, not as good looking as in the magazines, but…”
“I thought he looked even better,” I say defensively.
Elsey eyes me curiously. “Since when did you think Tristan was handsome?” she says, sounding more grown up than ever.
“Since, since…oh, I don’t know.”
Elsey smirks at me. “You can tell me the whole story later.”
It dawns on me. Why was Elsey so easily convinced that it was Tristan? She doesn’t seem to find it strange at all that he appeared out of nowhere in a remote part of the Moon Realm. “Elsey….why’d you think it was Tristan? Was it just because he looked like him?”
Now she giggles, finally sounding her own age. “Because of the news, of course.”
My heart flutters and I know she is about to tell me something important, so I stop and call to Cole and Tawni, who come jogging back, their eyebrows V’d in concern. “What’s wrong?” Cole says.
I motion to Elsey to speak. “Tell them what you were about to tell me,” I instruct.
Elsey’s eyes widen. “You mean, you don’t know?” she says incredulously.
“We’ve been kind of…busy,” I say.
“Right,” she says, changing her tone to that of a lecturer. “Well, all the kids gathered in the big room to watch the telebox this morning, like we always do. This kid we call Wiz suggested we watch the news, like he always does. He always gets voted down and we watch something else, but this morning he put it on before anyone could say anything. You guys were all on the screen.” She waves her hand across us.
“We saw that,” I say, hoping that isn’t her big news.
She changes course, her voice softening as she says, “I just knew you would come for me, Adele.” Finally, she fully sounds like a little girl again, the little sister I remember, before life’s challenges forced her to grow up before anyone should have to.
I put an arm around her. “I’ll always come for you. Now, what else did you hear on the news?”
Elsey’s eyes light up. “That Tristan ran away from home!” she exclaims.
“What? He…ran away?” I look at Tawni and Cole, who are staring at me.
“Yep. And apparently he was headed for the Moon Realm, subchapter six I think they said.”
“That’s only a single train ride from here,” I say, finally connecting the dots.
“He was coming to find you,” Tawni says.
Cole shakes his head. “C’mon, seriously. These strange feelings and all that rubbish again, really? Coincidence I reckon. If he really was trying to get away for a while, he probably just picked a place where no one would think to look for him.”
Elsey touches my arm. “Why would Tristan have been coming to find you?” she asks.
I tell her everything. Cole stalks off and pretends not to listen, but Tawni stays by me, even holds my hand for part of it.
Elsey is ecstatic when I finish. “He did come for you,” she says positively. Under her breath, she says, “No matter what that other guy says.”
It is then that I realize we haven’t had time for introductions. “Elsey,” I say. “This is Tawni. My friend,” I add.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Elsey,” Tawni says. “Adele’s told us so many nice things about you.”
At that, Elsey beams.
“Cole,” I say, a bit louder to get his attention, “come meet Elsey.”
He saunters over, his dark skin glowing a strange orange color under the illumination of the flashlights. “Hi, Elsey,” he says. “I’m Cole.”
My sis sticks out her hand and shakes Cole’s big paw. “Tristan was looking for my sister,” she says definitively.
“Oh, great. Now it’s three against one,” Cole says, grinning. At least he doesn’t seem fru
strated anymore. “We’d better keep moving. I think we’ve probably done a good enough job of losing ourselves in here, but they’ll keep searching until they find us.”
We walk for hours. Time seems to stand still inside the caverns. Cole and Tawni give up on trying to remember which route we’ve taken. I think they realize that we aren’t going to be going out the way we came in anyway.
The caverns are ominous and scary, and yet beautiful at the same time. Around every bend is another stalactite or stalagmite, some impossibly big, some carved by nature into complex patterns, more intricate than a master carver could ever hope to emulate on a museum statue. We pass under giant stone archways, and cross natural rock bridges, some so thin that we have to crawl across on our stomachs, trying not to look down at the never-ending drops into darkness on either side.
Much of the time we are able to walk upright, the jagged ceiling rising well above us. But at other times we are forced to stoop, or even crawl.
I am beat, so I know Elsey must be tired, too. At first she keeps up a constant chatter, talking about anything and everything. She talks about her time in the orphanage, asks a million questions about the Pen, and tries to get us all to agree that we are on a fantastic adventure. Eventually, she ceases talking completely, though, so I know she is getting tired. We need to stop, but none of us seems to want to make the call. I think we all feel that every additional footstep gives us a greater chance of survival.
Cole, who is leading, finally stops and sits on a flat stone rock that looks like someone has put there as a bench. He says, “I think we’ve gone far enough. It must be the middle of the night. Even Rivet will have to stop for sleep.”
We are all too tired to disagree. Or even to eat. Instead, we go straight to bed, four ducks in a row, pressed up close to each other for warmth. Cole and then Tawni and then Elsey and then me.
“He’s not dead, you know,” Elsey whispers.
“Who?” I say, although I know the answer.
“Tristan.”
“Oh.”