Chapter 4

Corin

I hated the silence that followed us for the rest of the day. I kept track of the time by the distance we traveled and the way my stomach felt, pausing only long enough to pull out travel rations on the fly. We didn't have time to linger anywhere; those warriors were counting on us to find them. Still, I missed the lively conversation Min-Ji usually kept going all on her own when she was around me.

Her words had set my mind spinning, and I wanted to curse the little bot for interrupting us just when we were starting to get somewhere. The fact that she was a pilot of skyships was exciting— that topic alone deserved a hundred questions— but it was the other things she revealed that really made me worry. The tiny female didn't feel safe in Haven. She didn't think her position in the new Clan was secure because of who she'd been and what she'd done in the past. I knew better than most that past actions didn't dictate who a person was now.

She was keeping up, and though she was a distraction, I had to admit she was likely no more distracting than she would have been back at Haven. I had to face the truth: every second was filled with thoughts and worries about her. The bot, however, was a nuisance I could do without. I'd slipped up, calling it a ‘he' again, and it drove me crazy that Min-Ji had instantly caught on. My mate was far too clever.

If my map was accurate, we should almost be at the first hydro plant location. I hoped it was the one that held the trapped warriors, but there were four locations to check. Our chances weren't great, and nothing in Zeidon and Farah's account of their adventure had helped me narrow it down. The door that glimmered silver in the distance looked promising, and it appeared solidly locked.

My heart rate sped up, thumping rapidly in my chest as my body prepared itself for a possible fight. "Stay back, we're at the first location." I had not explained anything to my human companion yet, but she didn't ask questions. She flattened herself against a nearby wall with a determined nod, her leg slipping forward to jolt the bot to a stop. I saw her hand drop to her thigh, where a curiously shaped holster was strapped to her leg.

It could be a weapon I didn't recognize, but I wasn't taking any chances. I freed one of my spare knives and, holding it by the blade, extended the handle to her. "Take my knife as a precaution. More than likely, that room either holds our lost males or nothing interesting at all." I hoped my words were true, but unease filled my belly, making the scales along my back twitch.

When she nodded and stayed in place, I focused all my attention on the metal door in our path. If there was any door that was going to be locked, it was this one—unless the Revenant had truly been defeated. But I was certain we hadn't heard the last of him. Farah's description of their final confrontation left a very bad taste in my mouth. Maybe the machine core was too damaged to be fixed, but I doubted it.

The door was stuck. It didn't respond to the panel at the side that was supposed to open it, and it didn't budge when I put my shoulder against it. That meant some good old-fashioned work on the wires behind the panel, and excitement thrummed through me. That was my favorite part. As I got to work, I remembered that Zeidon had also been good at opening doors. We needed to discuss techniques once this was all over.

I could feel Min-Ji's eyes on my back, burning against my scales as she watched me work. This wasn't the same as working on my projects in the privacy of my apartment, or even back in my hut at Thunder Rock village. If I failed, someone would be there to see it—and not just anyone, but the female I wanted to impress more than anything. Not that I was going to fail. It was a simple lock, held shut by some command from the evil Revenant. A few cut wires, some I reconnected, and the door swished open.

The room beyond was dark. No crystals glowed in the ceiling, but my eyes adjusted immediately to the gloom. The sound of rushing water washed over me, no longer muted by the walls and the door. I saw the hydro plant, several spinning turbines squatting over a large water channel. They made a groaning, grating noise, with the one at the back louder than the others. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"Are they failing?" Min-Ji inquired from my left. She was so close that a tiny step was all it would take to bring her skin into contact with my scales. The rushing water had masked her approach, and I quickly coiled out of her way, slithering into the room to avoid her. Her question was observant, and if I knew humans—and I was starting to—I guessed she'd asked it based solely on the sound. Her eyes weren't adapted to this darkness.

I didn't want to contemplate that what she asked was true, but the sound definitely meant something was wrong. "They are not performing right, no," I agreed. This explained why I'd struggled to raise our power output at Haven to match the needs of the greenhouse Cosima had built. There were four hydro plant stations beneath Ahoshaga, but only three were working properly. This was going to be another task for my ever-growing list of things to repair and maintain.

The dust that covered the floor in a fine layer of grime warned me that this room had not been entered in a very long time. We wouldn't find our missing warriors here, nor would I find the core that Farah had left behind. This was the wrong plant.

We didn't have time to linger, but that groaning noise made me deeply uncomfortable. I needed to assess the danger before we could set out for the next hydro plant. The little cleaning bot hummed and beeped as it followed me across the room to the back of screens. The control unit wasn't lit, but a brush of my fingers over the dusty keys brought it to life. The bot hummed more as it started polishing the surrounding floor, its round body bumping into my coils as it stuck close. Almost as if—though it was silly—it was afraid to wander far. It was simply obeying my orders to stay close, that was all.

"I don't suppose you can make some light? Nobody is in here, right?" Min-Ji was still at the door, her voice trailing off into silence. I could easily picture her clasping her hands over her heart, her back pressed to the wall beside the door for safety. Most people didn't realize, but I knew why she asked. Always cheerful and upbeat, my brave female hadn't let on to anyone that she was scared of bugs and creepy crawlies. It wasn't the dark that was bothering her right now, she feared that something was in that darkness.

My hand lifted from the soft glow of the screen, which wasn't enough for her to see the room by, and moved to a pouch on my hip. I drew out a small light source and flicked it on with my claw. "Catch," I told her, and sent the small object sailing through the air toward her. "Please tell me you brought at least some supplies." She had a small satchel with her, and that odd holster strapped to her leg, but not much else.

She deftly snatched the lantern from the air, and I caught her doing exactly what I'd pictured—holding her hands to her chest with the light in them, creating a large pool of yellow around her feet. My eyes lingered on the holster again, and I had to conclude that it was... attractive. It drew my attention to the soft curve of her thigh, emphasized by the black straps.

"I brought food and water," she said in a defensive tone. "And a fur to sleep on." It wasn't much, but thankfully I tended to overpack despite my efforts to take only the bare necessities. We'd make it work. I shouldn't have been surprised that she hadn't brought a light source; she probably didn't have one. The other humans had mates who provided such things, but Min-Ji didn't have anyone. I felt a pang of guilt that I couldn't shake.

She didn't let anything drag her down, not my comment about her lack of supplies or the darkness. With the light in her hand, she wandered deeper into the large chamber, her footsteps barely audible over the sound of the wildly rushing water and the groaning and grinding of the failing turbines. It better exposed the sorry state this plant was in, and I winced, hurrying to complete my diagnostics on the machines.

"There are some weeds tangled in the blades," Min-Ji announced, but I didn't turn to look. "And one blade is having some kind of rust issue. I thought this alloy didn't rust. Nothing's got rust down here." The word was unfamiliar to my language, but I wasn't relying on translating by touch. I had an entire database of her language, courtesy of Artek, uploaded directly to the implants behind my ears. I'd done the procedure myself, as I couldn't travel to Artek's home for it, but I knew they worked perfectly.

It was tempting to flick the tip of my tail in her direction for a quick brush along her skin, just to know, but that would be wrong. "Rust?" I asked her instead. Asking would be just as quick, and she'd happily tell me all I needed to know.

My screen was flashing all kinds of warnings, and I pulled out a scrap of leather to write down the tasks needed to fix this. Ink stained my fingers from all my scribbling; some scales had black dots that wouldn't fade anymore. If my mother knew the state I'd let myself get into, she'd be horrified from beyond the grave. At least I didn't have to worry whether Min-Ji cared about such things: it was never going to come up.

"Rust? Ah, it's like decay, but of metal? It often looks brown or red," she explained, and from the way the light danced around the walls, I knew she was gesturing with her hands. Always so expressive, my Min-Ji. I wondered if she even knew how to sit still.

"I have seen this," I replied, tilting my head to glance over my shoulder at her. She was standing precariously close to the edge of the racing water, her sturdy boots planted right on the edge. Fear of bugs, not fear of water, but I was tempted to snatch her around the waist with my tail and yank her to a safer distance. Her long black hair brushed her shoulders in sleek waves, and she had one hand on a hip, near that holster, as she contemplated the turbines. It made my breath catch in my throat with how pretty she was, so small and exotic.

I forced myself to explain where I'd seen this ‘rust,' and made myself focus on the readings instead of staring at her profile. "Krashe would know this better, but I've seen some of the big Revenants that roam Serant beyond Bitter Storm's territories. Some of them are covered in red streaks and brown stains. A Revenant with such stains is often easier to defeat."

Easier to defeat, maybe, but the giant metal beasts were still terrible foes. In that, the Clans were fortunate that Bitter Storm bore the brunt of their attacks. Only rarely did one manage to cross the border into Thunder Rock land. I thought about the Vrash Revenant that Zeidon and Farah had faced, feeling a tingle of curiosity. A Revenant that small was unheard of, and I wanted to see it, study it. It might be evil—an enemy—but it was still fantastical technology left behind by our ancestors. What could we learn from a machine like that?

"I've got my list," I said, brushing the screens off with an air of finality. I couldn't do much more than this right now, but the situation was dire. The crack in the tunnel wall and this hydro plant on the verge of collapse—I'd have to deal with them as soon as we found the warriors. I might even need to enlist Zeidon's help to find the right parts and handle some of the grunt work. Out of all the warriors, he was probably the most skilled to assist.

"How long is this list by now, Corin?" Min-Ji asked quietly. She'd approached again, but this time she hadn't moved so close that we were at risk of touching. Her brown eyes held a warm, concerned hue as she peered at my face. "Seriously, you're always busy. Do you even have time to sleep? How much work is this?" she waved her hands around the large room to indicate the failing turbines. "You can't do it all alone."

I bristled, offended that she would doubt my skills, but the concerned look in her eyes made me snap my mouth shut. This wasn't about my abilities; it was about my time. Hadn't I just been contemplating enlisting Zeidon for some of this work? I was swamped, trying to repair what I could and keep Haven running. Some nights, I didn't sleep at all.

Lowering my raised shoulders, I let out a long sigh. "It needs to get done, so I get it done. That is all." There were no other options but to keep going. At some point, I'd get all the repairs done. I'd slow down then.

The cleaning bot had settled down against my tail, and when I moved toward the door, it beeped loudly, a sharp edge to its tone. It hummed as it hurried to polish the stretch of floor behind me, trying to catch up. "Come on, it's almost night and I want to get halfway to the next hydro plant before we have to take a break."