Chapter 9

NINE

Lorna

I had seen a lot of scary shit on this planet, but nothing was as scary as the gray skull that was currently looking at me. One large eye stretched across the forehead of the skull in a flat oval shape, and the back of the skull narrowed to a point that curved up and over the top of the head like a scorpion tail. The tip was adorned with a shiny metal cap, rings, chains, and other jewelry. As for the alien itself, they were a skeleton, but nothing about the skeleton was human. The enamel was a dull gray streaked with painted markings that were either bright blue or a fluorescent yellow.

The body was long and slender with a ribcage the size of my thigh and two thin legs that bottomed out into three-toed feet like a bird. Every bone was held together by a thin membrane that was nearly translucent, so much so that I could see the inner organs pulsing and beating.

The skeleton stepped back, and I took stock of my situation. I was in some sort of rocky cave, and I was bound with thick chains to a column in the center. I squirmed to see how tight they were, and immediately received a slight shock that made me cry out. I went still as a gross metallic tasted flooded my mouth. I spat on the ground but didn't squirm again.

The last thing I remembered was that sickly scent, and then nothing. My body ached fiercely, and my stomach was nearly concave with hunger. My mouth was dry. How long had I been unconscious? When had I eaten last? And where the hell was Whitten?

The skeleton's face was something out of a nightmare. A thin membrane blinked over the eye like a reptile's, and there was another patch of membrane on the lower half of their face. Suddenly, it pulsed, like a bass drum, and the air rippled with a weird timpani-like beat that at first sounded like nothing but a rave, but soon my translation implant began to flicker to life.

"…are…mountain keepers. Call… Inklas. Sorry but… need you… gods must be…fed."

I didn't like many of those words. Fed sounded one hundred percent not good for me. "Where is Whitten?" I asked.

The skeleton cocked their head at me. Inklas, I was pretty sure they said they were. This one seemed more adorned than others which were standing behind them. They held bladed weapons and wore a vial around their necks on a chain, as well as similar vials on their waists. A gray mist swirled inside the vials, as if alive, and I wondered if that was the source of the sweet drug that had been the downfall of Whitten and me.

The skeleton turned his head to speak to those behind him. "… Furred one."

My translation implant worked better the more they talked, and as they conversed, I was able to determine that Whitten was in fact alive but had not woken yet. The jaws in my mind were nothing but flattened grains on sand. Unmoving. My heart skipped a beat. "Can I see him?"

The skeleton focused back on me. Their big eye blinked. I couldn't determine gender on any of these Inklas, if they even had a gender. Who knew how they procreated? To me, they seemed like something born out of a curse from some fantasy land in a Tolkien novel. They bore no expression. Their skull face didn't move. No eyebrows to raise. No lips to curl. It was eerie as hell. How did they hear?

"No, you can't." My implant translated the words, but I could still hear the echoing of the drum-like sounds of their voice, and it was a terrifying backdrop to this situation.

Every day on this planet, I'd been the one who didn't want to rock the boat. I'd seen what happened to the women who made noise. Who resisted. Who stood out. And I hadn't wanted that to be me. So I'd gone along with whatever my captors had wanted. But I had Whitten now, and he'd showed me what it meant to fight. And like hell was I going to accept that I couldn't see him again. "Why not? Why can't I see him?"

The Inklas remained quiet for a long time. Maybe they were trying to figure me out. I was trying to figure them out. Was this some sort of leader? President? Who knew what their hierarchy was here.

But instead of answering me, they turned and walked away. Each step made a chilling clicking sound, as each toe was topped with a long claw like a raptor. But then he said two words that filtered through my implant that made my lungs freeze in terror. "Prepare her."

" Prepare me ?" I screeched out loud as three guards approached me. "Prepare me for wha t?"

But no one answered me. They didn't even speak to each other. They unwrapped the chain from the column but kept me bound. As two stood on either side of me, one held the other length of my chain and began walking. When I planted my heels, the chains tightened and gave me another shock. I had no choice but to stumble forward as I was led on a chain like a dog. I couldn't decide if I was more scared or furious. Both emotions swirled like a maelstrom in my chest until my blood ran hot, and I trembled with adrenaline and fear from head to toe.

The rock cave we'd been in had been mostly empty except for a few columns, but as we made our way down a tunnel, the ground changed into something like a fine gray dust. The walls were lit with torches. I had no idea where I was, but the air didn't feel much different from the mountain region where Whitten and I had sat by the small pond. Were we inside a mountain? That was the only thing I could think of.

The tunnel soon opened into a room with a small steaming pool in the center. All around were more Inklas. They wore more jewelry than the guards who walked with me. They bore the same blue and yellow markings, but theirs were in a large swirl pattern. Each one bore a thick ring through the tip of their skull points.

The guards unchained me, but as much as I tried to fight, they easily bound my wrists with a thick rope at my waist. I couldn't understand how they were so strong. I didn't see any muscles—just skeletons and organs. My hand brushed a membrane along the chest cavity of one, and my finger came away slimy. I gagged.

The guards stepped back, leaving me standing along the pool. When I tried to turn and run, they blocked the entrance. "Do not fight, and maybe you will see your furred one," said the guard's drumbeat voice.

I wanted to spit at him. Swear at him. But I played nice for now. I had to be smart. There was no point in fighting now when I had no idea how to escape.

The jeweled Inklas stepped forward. Two stripped my clothes from me, and I hated every moment as my naked body was exposed to them. Yet they reacted impassively as they led me into the steaming pool.

The heat was nearly unbearable, like that one time my brother had heated the hot tub to near scalding levels at the beach house we'd rented. I quickly shoved aside the thought of my brother before I began to weep.

The Inklas dipped shiny bowls into the water and poured them over my head. And I realized then that this wasn't water. Well, it was water, but there was something in it—a scent or fragrance that reminded me of lavender. The water itself was a little oily, and I hated the way it felt on my hair and skin.

They led me from the pool and stood me near a table full of brushes and pots with an oily colorful substance. As soon as they dipped the brushes in the pots, it became clear to me that these were the paints they used on their bodies. But instead of blue and yellow, they were painting me a fire engine red.

Every instinct in my body told me red didn't mean good things. Fire. Emergency. Stop. Death . I glanced frenetically at the guards, who didn't react, and as the Inklas began painting my bare skin, I closed my eyes and worked on keeping myself calm. I needed to get to Whitten again. I couldn't act until I spoke to him. Because like hell would I leave without him. So I forced myself to think of his wolf-ish smile and the softness of his fur. The way his arms felt around me. How viciously he fought when I was in danger. We'd get out of this. We had to.

They poked at my hair and scratched at my skin. When they finished painting me, they didn't return my clothes. All I wore was the body paint as they led me from the steaming room. We entered a series of hallways and rooms, taking so many turns that I was incredibly dizzy and disoriented. A foreboding dread settled on my shoulders and soured my stomach. Even if I did get free, I had no idea where to turn or run. This system of tunnels and rooms was a labyrinth. The panic threatened to overtake me as I grew lightheaded. I couldn't seem to inhale enough oxygen, and I was on the verge of passing out when the air changed slightly. Instead of the musty air in the cave, I caught the whiff of a fresh breeze. Clean air. The change kept the panic attack from taking hold of my body, and I stumbled forward until sunlight appeared up ahead.

I nearly tripped in my eagerness to see where I was. Sun was good. That meant freedom. The ground under my feet grew warmer, and I focused on the glimpse of sky that I could see until we reached the opening of the tunnel. I surged forward, surprising the Inklas, as I was eager to dig my toes into dirt again, but quickly, I learned this wasn't what I had hoped.

My stomach bottomed out as I reached the edge of a ledge that had to be a hundred feet in the air. We weren't just in a mountain. We were up a mountain. There was no escaping this. It would be like jumping off the roof of a hotel. Chains rattled from behind me followed by a garbled voice. "Lorna."

I whirled around and nearly swallowed my tongue. Whitten stood chained to the side of the mountain, his arms stretched over him and fastened to massive bolts in the wall. I could see another set of bolts beside him, and quickly realized they were for me as the Inklas holding my lead yanked me toward them. "Whitten," I gasped, but words failed me, because my heart was breaking.

He clearly fought, and fought with everything he had, but it hadn't been enough. His one ear was torn nearly in half. His thigh oozed with blood and pus. The fur of his chest was marred with cuts. It seemed as if they'd tried to paint him like they had me, but eventually had given up and poured the pain on his shoulder. It dripped down his fur in a crimson nightmare mixing with his black blood.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" he asked despite an obviously swollen jaw.

My shoulders bucked on a sob. He looked like that, and yet he was concerned about me. "What happened? Why did they hurt you?"

He shrugged but winced with the gesture. "I might have resisted."

The Inklas quickly chained me to the wall in a similar way they had Whitten with my arms stretched over my head, bound at the wrist and bolted to the wall.

The highly decorated Inklas was now joined with several more, all crowding onto this small ledge. Their paint had been touched up and shone even more vivid against their gray skin.

For the first time, I faced forward rather than down, and what I saw sent a new wave of terror coursing through my blood. A wall of darkness approached almost like a tidal wave. There was no gradual night like on Earth—this was a distinct void of nothing that gained ground on us more and more by the second. "What the hell?" I whispered. I had never seen anything like this. I turned to Whitten, whose face had paled beneath his fur. "What?—?"

"Powerful Ev." The decorated Inklas raised his bony hands in the air and fluttered his fingers, creating a rattling sound that reminding me of a rattlesnake warning. "We thank you in advance for your generous spirit and are pleased to provide two offerings to you."

Ev? Offerings?

The darkness rolled closer, and every once in a while, shapes would emerge along the edge before quickly darting back into the darkness. I couldn't quite make out what they were until the darkness drew closer, and then I could see the length of a tentacle—easily something out of a giant squid movie—flail out of the darkness before retreating with a hiss as steam rose from the appendage.

"Those are the Ev," Whitten said in a low voice. "The creatures of the Dark. I have heard of the Inklas and their offerings, but usually they use their own kind…" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, mate. I flecked up."

"What do you mean by offerings?" My breath hissed between my teeth.

He rattled his chains but groaned in pain. His sorrowful eyes met mine. "Sacrifice. To appease the Ev in exchange for not hurting the Inklas."

"What do the Ev do?"

"Consume." An Inklas drummed that at me with one low beat. "They consume everything in their path. But we remain safe in our mountain because we feed them."

" Us ." My head pounded. I was going to pass out. "You feed them us."

"Feast!" The decorated Inklas ignored our conversation as they continued that bony finger rattle.

The darkness drew closer, and now I could hear the Ev from inside the wall—screeching and hissing. Clacking of jaws. Spine-chilling growls. "Whitten," I gasped. "What do we do?"

"Can you reach the back of my neck?" He tugged against his bonds as much as he could, back nearly bowed. "There is a lump there. If you press on it, my brothers will be signaled. I've tried to get to it, but they've kept me bound."

I surged toward him in an effort to press his emergency signal, but also just to seek his touch. His reassurance. "Will we live?"

Whitten didn't answer. He only stared at me, and that was answer enough. My hands shook. My knees knocked together. I could just barely brush my fingers along his ear, but his neck seemed impossibly far away. The chains dug into my wrists. My shoulders wrenched painfully as I stretched the ligaments to their limits. The back of his head was within reach. Maybe I could reach his neck… just maybe.

The darkness roared closer, so noisy for such a void of color. The Inklas all around us raised their hands in the air and rattled their fingers so that the sound beat inside of my head and pounded with my heart. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.

Closer the dark came. My fingers brushed Whitten's fur. Our eyes met. The screeches intensified. They smelled blood. The rattling stopped as the Inklas retreated to the safety of their mountain. Alone on the ledge, my shoulders shook with silent sobs. I couldn't reach the back of his neck. My arms ached, and I collapsed back onto the rock wall. "I can't. I'm so sorry. I can't."

"This isn't your fault," Whitten assured me. "I led us here. This is mine?—"

But I shook my head. I wouldn't let our last moments before we were torn apart by scary night creatures to be about apologies. "Look at me." His eyes met mine. "You're my hero."

"Hero?"

"Savior. Knight in shining armor. The one who saves me."

I could tell he wasn't sure what all my words meant, but he understood. "Even if this is the ending Fatas has decided for us from the beginning, I wouldn't have changed meeting you."

Tears slipped from my eyes. A breeze tossed my air in my face. "Me either."

The dark was less than a football field away. A roar sounded from within that vibrated the cliff face. Somewhere, a rock came loose and skidded down the mountain.

We held gazes. I braced for pain, and just as the blackness reached the edge of my toes, a bright light blinded me.