Chapter 30 - Walk of Knowledge
July
When I jump off the ladder and set foot on something slippery and creamy, I mentally bless the helmet Merya gave me. Loose strands of hair stick to my visor, and the air inside immediately turns clammy and stuffy, but at least I can’t see what just splattered on my legs.
“All clear?” Tabitha shouts from above me as I move out of the way just moments before a hard thump lands in the darkness, and the flashlight she’s holding reveals the mouth of a narrow tunnel.
Moved by curiosity, I lift my visor, look down and cringe.
“Just think about it as a pool of expensive, purifying mud,” Mack says, patting me on the back. “Although—I wouldn’t leave it on your skin for too long if I were you.”
When Mack lifts his helmet visor, the small trail of scars on the bridge of his nose and right cheekbone lightens like lines on a map in the flashlight’s yellow glow.
“I swear this shit can liquefy bones better than lye.” He casts his light on the dense layer of greenish substance stagnating beneath our feet.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I say, wrinkling my nose and scraping the back of my hand with the hem of Galen’s jumper sleeve, hoping he’s forgotten about his fancy piece of clothing.
“No need to peel your skin off.” Tabitha nudges me forward with a light push.
“Mack trains his flirtatiousness on the stash of books he secretly devours when he’s not busy concocting new ways to keep us safe.
” She casts a motherly look at him, and Mack retreats a couple of steps back, lowering his head.
“But he’s not harmful, am I right, Fumo? ”
“Fumo?” I ask, turning to Mack, who’s fallen quiet, trying to ignore his blushing cheeks that contrast sharply with his deep blue eyes, the same eyes as Merya’s.
Tabitha winks at me before signalling to the group ahead of us to make a move for the darkest core of the tunnel. “Mack’s nickname. Now go. We’re safer-ish here, but heat detectors can still spot us.”
I smile beneath my helmet, remembering what Tabitha has just said about him keeping them all safe. “Well, thanks for saving my skin, Mack. I’m very fond of it, and I like keeping it on my muscles rather than melting away,” I say to him with a little bow.
He stops blinking and arches one brow, then the other, crossing his arms over his chest.
I place one hand on my hip and flick his helmet with the other, feeling a rush of familiarity when his eyes brighten with an invisible smile.
“I know you’re smirking under that thing.
Don’t get too comfortable now. I haven’t forgotten what you said about my head.
Come on, I don’t want to be left behind. ”
I nudge him, pushing his elbow, and start floundering behind the head of the group.
Merya, now a human crutch to make Galen’s walk quicker, leads the way.
She is protected by Jyn to her right and a dark wall on her left, which she uses to stay upright and balanced.
But her gait looks confident, and the slippery ground, whatever it looks like under the thick layer of gloop, doesn’t seem to slow her down.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask nobody in particular. My breath is dense. I can almost touch it when I stick two fingers between my neck and the rubbery padding of the helmet, seeking some relief.
Mack chuckles behind me. Tabitha’s reprimand didn’t last long, and he’s acting cocky again now that she’s no longer close enough to hear him. I turn my head without stopping, shrugging my shoulders in a silent What?
My boots have disappeared under layers of mud, turning my legs into heavy trunks, but Mack quickly catches up with me despite the weight of his backpack and the little array of weapons dangling from his shoulders over his chest.
“Taking us?” he asks as if I am supposed to understand the reason behind his amusement. His brows arch so high that the scars on his face stretch to thin white threads.
“Am I missing something, or is this another attempt to charm me?” My voice echoes more than I thought it would, and Tabitha’s shoulders - ahead of us - shake with silent laughter.
Mack huffs a laugh, “You may want to rephrase that. Taking you, maybe… Do you really think Galen has never walked this tunnel before or any other—”
“Enough.” One word from Jyn, who’s fallen into step with Tabitha in the meantime, is all it takes to silence Mack.
Even if Mack’s words always seem to land heavily on me, I must admit he’s not wrong.
Galen has met these people before, but it strikes me that he’s been here, perhaps many times, while living a second life in Libera, spending most of his days with me.
How many times has the Chapter played with my memories, if I can’t remember not seeing Galen for more than a day or two all these years?
Mack gives me a little nudge with his shoulder. “Ah, the gears are turning in your brain now—”
“That’s enough!” Jyn and Tabitha’s order booms so loudly I swear the tunnel vibrates a little. Their faces bear a prayer for me to be patient and a warning look for Mack.
He scratches the side of his neck, his eyes twinkling with an innocent smile. “Not my place?”
“No.” An answer that sounds rehearsed, so perfectly synchronised. The same as their movements when they give us their back and start walking towards Merya and Galen.
“Why do they call you Fumo?” I change the subject before Mack can invite another scowl from the adults.
He puffs his chest up, and I prepare for a long-winded explanation.
“Fumo is an ancient word that belonged to one of Horigos’ forgotten islands.
That was flat, and used and abused during the Great Famine.
So ruthlessly, in fact, that all its natural supplies dwindled to nothing.
Its very core shrunk due to the lack of water and oxygen, and one day it simply burst into dust.”
I silence a gasp and give him a puzzled look when he hops in front of me, splaying his fingers in my face. “An entire land. Gone. Forever.” His eyes widen with each word.
Just simple, beautiful eyes. No purple rim, no mismatched shades like mine, not a trace of Harvester blood in his veins.
I cock my head to one side, closing my eyes with a sigh, glad the helmet is covering my mouth so he can’t notice the smile I can barely contain.
Finally, someone who’s willing to talk. But, as much as I itch to ask him how he ended up hiding and conspiring with Tabitha Lorne - a renegade - I decide the origin of his nickname is a more appropriate conversation to have in a tunnel.
“Thanks for the geography lesson, but I believe the land you’re referring to didn’t burst into dust. It exploded. A less romantic end, and more of a tragic one, I must say. And still, you didn’t answer my question. What’s a Fumo?”
“Ah!” He suspiciously beckons me closer, curling a finger. “It means smoke,” he whispers. “And smoke is what remains of my enemies after they meet me,” he adds louder, thumping a hand on his chest.
I jump back as far as the mud allows me while Mack studies my expression for a second, swirls his right hand in the air and performs a deep bow, pretending to tip an invisible hat with his left.
“I thought we agreed that smoke is the only thing left when you try to cook something.” Jyn’s amused laugh roars in the tunnel, causing a chain reaction that spreads to the entire group. Even Merya and Galen’s silhouettes shake while trying to walk straight and contain themselves.
Only Tabitha maintains some sort of responsible behaviour, but in the narrow beams of our flashlights, her face lights up with a quick smile. “Come on, kids, don’t forget that one of us is injured, and the tunnel stretches for miles.”
My mind lets go of that brief spark of normalcy when Tabs turns her back to speak with Jyn, reminding me why we are here.
“Why don’t you ask Merya if she needs some respite? You know she won’t ask otherwise,” she suggests to Jyn, who leans his head towards her with such familiarity that I, for a moment, envy.
He nods and proceeds towards the couple ahead, tapping Merya on the shoulder. But Mack’s sister shakes her head. Once. Twice. Adjusts Galen’s arm around her neck. Her back is slightly bent, one knee giving up under his weight.
Even though I saw him laughing and walking, I still don’t know the gravity of his wound.
“We have a saying. Well, I forged it and pitched it to the rest of the group: if you can breathe, you can fight. Believe me or not, Galen can defend himself even when asleep. I’ve never met someone ready to fight so hard for his values and the people he loves.
” Mack’s voice is reassuring. Perhaps this is the first time I hear his true voice.
Not loaded with self-confidence or sarcasm.
“You can take that off if you want,” he adds, pointing at the helmet still on my head before unlatching his and clipping it to one strap of his backpack.
His hair, damp and of a darker copper shade, falls flat on his forehead, giving him a boyish look.
Merya and Galen have also taken off their helmets at some point. I guess, despite the peculiar conversation with Mack, I was still in too much shock to have really noticed what was happening around me. Compartmentalising has always been my way of coping with accidents and events I can’t control.
I fiddle with my helmet for a few seconds. When I take it off, a whiff of musty but cool air gently blows at my face.
We walk in silence for a while to save our breath as the ground beneath our feet drops a level, and we proceed deeper underground.
I swing my flashlight left and right to study my surroundings, stretching a hand out to touch the tunnel wall, which is so narrow that two people can barely flank each other without brushing shoulders.
“Ugh, nope. Slimy.” I clean my hand on my trousers, adding more dirt to what is already there, casually patting something hidden in my pocket. When I slide my hand inside, I immediately pull it out as if the small, brass key I forgot about was made of fire and just burnt my fingers.
“Water?”