The walls were narrow. Will forced himself to breathe. He hated small spaces. He couldn’t understand how the others could stand it. They crept, single file, their shoulders scraping the walls, heads bent to avoid the ceiling. He felt a spider scramble up his neck and swallowed a shriek—a manly shriek, it definitely would have been manly—swatting it away as he banged into the low stone ceiling.
He heard Merk chuckle. “Like you would have reacted differently,” Will grumbled. They were there for Chleo, he reminded himself. Rescue her and he would never have to come back.
“Oh, yes, the most dangerous of foes the great and powerful common household spider,” Merk said. “I’m quaking, truly.”
Will continued down the passage grumbling about ungrateful off-worlders. Suddenly, Merk… squeaked. He jerked into the walls behind Will, slapping at the back of the neck. Looking back, Will caught Dai pulling away looking innocent.
“Clearly, a poke to the neck is a much more worthy opponent,” Mic said, his bird floating behind them.
Will allowed himself to laugh as Merk shot a glare at both of them.
The tunnel led under the courtyard and into the main towers. As they entered the main building, it ended in a stone wall. Will pushed a block to his right and another panel opened. One badge check later and they were spilling into another walkway, just as narrow, but with towering ceilings.
Merk and Eelock stretched enjoying the extra space. Their frames had taken nearly all of the space the former tunnel provided. Dai shot Will an encouraging smile. He turned to Eelock.
“These are the servants’ tunnels, now,” he said. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for others. If I’m recognized…” He let the sentence trail off not wanting to explain. He blinked, skirting the issue. “Just keep an eye out.”
Eelock nodded. Will started down the new tunnel grateful the man didn’t push for answers. They spiraled around the towers, dipping into rooms when necessary to switch passages or avoid servants they could hear approaching.
They sat behind a wardrobe in one of the hundreds of guest rooms in the West Tower when Merk gave him a good-natured jab with his elbow.
“You’re working this palace like a pro,” he whispered. “How do you know so many passages? The last one didn’t look like it’d been used in a century.”
Will let a small smile find his face, forgetting for a moment the urgency of needing to find Chleo and her dad. It was one of the few good memories he had from his childhood.
“My mother and I came here when I was a baby,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I wasn’t allowed to leave except for special occasions, so as you can imagine, it was unbelievably boring. One of my friends and I would spend our time exploring, finding all the secret tunnels and passages we could. I’m sure there are thousands more that we didn’t find.”
He caught Eelock giving him a strange look. It made his skin buzz and neck itch with nerves. Eelock didn’t know anything. He couldn’t.
“I think they’ve passed,” Will said, motioning toward the door eager to leave. He led them back into the passage ignoring Eelock’s eyes on the back of his head.
~*~*~*~
Chleo was falling. She couldn’t remember why or from where, but the feeling was familiar. Any second there would be a pull on her belt, either the leash or Mic, and she would crash into water. She knew it as well as she knew the cogs on her ID gear.
The pull never came. Water crashed around her. She hit full force and smashed into the riverbed at the bottom. Her arm snapped. She screamed, water filling her lungs. Fighting for the surface, she choked, the current tossing her farther away. Trying to swim up she realized she was going down.
She was in the pond. Light filtered through as she panicked, her body forcing coughs in the absence of air. A distorted face appeared above the surface as black swam at the edges of her vision. Will. She reached toward it as her body drifted, darkness spreading to swallow everything.
Suddenly, she was breaking the surface, warm arms wrapped around her as water poured from her mouth and nose. There was a pause as her lungs filled with air. It tasted sweet and charred.
Chleo gasped through another breath, the warm arms never leaving her. Soft mutterings came into focus as her world evened out.
“No, not Chleo.” The sound was comforting despite its desperation, tickling a memory she’d forgotten. “Not my baby girl.”
Her eyes snapped open.
“Dad,” she choked. His face hovered above as he sat cradling her in his lap. A dull green light sprang from his skin, light like Dai, a different color but just as encompassing… and it was dull. Chleo searched him for injuries remembering Dai lying broken on a boulder her light the only indication of how she was doing.
The roar of the river blasted behind her as the soft grass morphed into hard stone. Chleo’s head spun as the scenery shifted. They were on the boulder, a puddle of blood surrounding a motionless vision of Dai, her glow conspicuously absent. Unseeing eyes stared at the stars above.
Chleo sucked in a breath. No… this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it had happened, but the sight was unyielding. She burrowed her head in her father’s lap to make it go away.
“Dai,” he cried, surprise skirting the edges. Chleo felt his arms tighten. “Oh, Dai.”
“Dad,” she mumbled into his shirt, “where are we?”
She felt him stiffen and looked up. Suspicion clouded his eyes warring with despair. Furrowing her brow, she sat up to face him.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You’re not real,” he said, his face twisting, crestfallen. It looked like he was talking more for his benefit than hers.
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“What do you mean?” she asked as the scene shifted again. “Of course, I’m real.”
Rock morphed into metal spreading and rising until they were surrounded. A panel blinked to the side and Chleo took a moment to wonder how it worked. Where was the light coming from? A younger version of her mom walked into the room pulling her focus.
She was heavily pregnant with lines creasing her face. Alarms blared behind her as the door slid shut.
“He’s in the systems,” she said, sounding dejected. “How did they get to him?”
Chleo saw her dad’s eyes close in shame. “I don’t know,” he muttered lost in the new scene. Then, he added to himself, “Please, not again.”
“We need to eject. Luna is close enough,” her mom said, pushing buttons. Chleo watched, amazed as light danced from the surface creating shapes in mid-air. An image of Luna appeared, mimicking a picture she once saw in her mother’s astronomy book.
“This is good,” her mom said trying to smile. “It’s Luna, no tech allowed. He won’t be able to follow.”
“As long as we survive the crash,” her dad said as though following a script. Her mom turned and flicked his shoulder.
“None of that,” she said with a soft smile resting a hand on her bulging stomach. “Little Chleo has impressionable ears. I’ll not have your pessimism infect her so early. Now.” Her face hardened. An edgy glint brightened her eye. “Where is the ejection lever?”
Chleo watched her dad’s face pale. He stood moving to her mom’s side. His hand moved of its own accord, cupping her face.
“I won’t tell you,” he said. His rejection was soft, tender.
Her mom’s face twisted. “We’ll die, Jack. We’ll die, and it’ll be your fault.
“I know,” he said softly, a tear tracking down his face.
Her mother shimmered, growing taller. Her face narrowed, its features distorting until it resembled a stranger’s. The person’s clothes morphed, black swallowing her mom’s preferred greens and blues, the fabric switching to resemble the material she and Will saw on Dai and her companions.
“Mister Mathews,” the figure drawled. Her dad dropped his hand from the new face as if burned. He stumbled back a few steps adopting a protective stance in front of Chleo. “We meet again.”
The man removed his top hat, placing it under his arm.
“Do accept my apologies for the capture of your wife,” he said lifting his hand and pulling a pristine white glove off finger by finger. “From my understanding, the enemy can be quite...” He paused as if searching for the right word. “Vicious.”
The surrounding metal morphed into a warm sitting room as he talked, a fire crackling in the hearth. The glow coming from her father’s skin battled the flames casting everything in an ethereal green. The control panel melted into a couch, as the stranger moved toward an elegant sitting chair. His steps were measured, movements graceful. Even as he sat, he looked coiled, ready to spit acid or strike.
“Yes, so I’ve heard,” her father said. She couldn’t see his face, but she imagined it twisted in a snarl.
This wasn’t right. Chleo tried to focus. Everything was changing too quickly. Was that normal? For some reason, she couldn’t tell. Something brushed her memory. Why wouldn’t her dad think she was real?
“I understand you can’t tell them what you’re working on,” the man spoke, silky and smooth, “but surely, you can tell me. Perhaps we can use it to get her back.”
Silence filled the room. The man frowned. An edgy glint entered his eye.
“Where is it, then?”
Where is it? The question echoed in her head. It sounded familiar. Her forehead grew cool, as if pressed to stone. It eased her headache. The image of a baton filled her head. Her temple throbbed.
The man disappeared along with the room. Her father spun, surprised. Chleo flinched as sickly sweet fog rolled over them, the char burning her nose. The ground fell away around them leaving a pockmarked field. Her hand rested in a puddle of sticky, clear liquid. Her stomach twisted.
“Chleo?” her father asked, looking at her with new eyes. A blast sounded to their left. She flinched choking on a sob. He knelt next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “This is your memory?”
“What’s happening?” she asked. Another blast erupted. Dancing Lava shot into the sky making the steam glow. The air took on an edgy glint.
“Where is it?” D.I.M agents appeared in the distance with large ears and monkeyish gaits. They shouted the question again and again until it was the only thought filling her head. She wanted to yell and scream until it went away. She wanted to cry.
A soft tune broke through her fractured mind. It swirled around the question edging between the words breaking them apart. It worked to fill the gaps with a familiar lilt until they were wiped away into nothing but song. Chleo opened eyes she hadn’t noticed were closed.
The scene had changed again. Her father sat in the Shack rocking a handmade bassinet with his foot. His left hand held his watch moving along its extended frets. A single note lay etched in the center by her mother’s careful work.
Strings reached from the frets to the ground looping around his other foot. He pulled them taught as his free hand plucked a tune she would know anywhere.
“Hush, baby girl,” he whispered as he glanced her way. “There are ears everywhere.”
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