Chapter 13
Brir
I was sitting against Dune and sharpening my sword when Artemis’s sigh made me look up again. He had been trying to read a book, and from how he tapped his claws on the floor, I could tell he was agitated.
He closed the book with a snap, his eyes meeting mine with frustration and curiosity. “Brir, do you ever wonder about our purpose here?” Artemis’s voice was low and filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
I turned to face him fully. The flickering flames of the candles cast shadows on the bunker’s walls. “All the time,” I replied honestly, pausing for a second with the sharpening stone in my hand. “But I’ve learned to focus on what’s before me.”
Artemis set the book on the table next to him, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. His eyes, usually bright with mischief, were clouded with worry.
I smiled at him softly as Artemis got up and moved towards me.
A long shadow stretched across my body as Artemis approached. His steps were quiet on his padded feet. The claws scraped against the stone as he moved closer, the harsh sound echoing through the stillness around us.
“You should be resting.” I watched as he tilted his head, looking at what I had been doing. As I looked up at him from my spot on the floor, his muscles seemed to jump under his skin as if he were forcing his body to stay still.
“I can’t,” he finally admitted, his blue eyes narrowing as he gestured to himself. He flopped on the floor across from me, tucking his legs under him. His tail was thumping the ground in agitation. “Everything feels… wrong.”
My heart twitched at his words, a biting sympathy laced with the familiar sting of helpless despair. I knew the feeling all too well: the sensation of being a foreigner in one’s skin.
“You’re restless.” I offered him a comforting smile. "It’s normal to feel this way.”
“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the stone’s persistent rasp against steel. I paused and let my eyes linger on Artemis’s transformed form. “I feel like I should be out there already. Trying to find Apollo. Maybe that facility they were trying to take me to. I mean, I’m pretty much all better. No more wounds.”
“You’re not ready for that yet.” I reinforced it again. Artemis was healing very quickly, much faster than even I could have, but I could still tell his body was adapting to whatever those assholes had been giving him. “Your wounds have just scabbed over. You would barely make it to the next town without passing out from exhaustion.”
Artemis followed my gaze and looked down at himself, a grimace twisting at his lips as he flexed his clawed hands. “I feel like I’m trapped in here.”
“I understand,” I responded softly, returning to my sword. The truth was I did understand more than he knew. My body was covered in the scars that told the story of my banishment, but my mind was the actual reason I had been banished. “But you’re not ready. Trust me on this.”
The silence lingered between us again, the only sound being the soft scrape of stone against metal as I resumed sharpening my sword. It seemed almost peaceful before Artemis tossed his body backward with a thud. A pitiful moan escaped his lips as he draped his arms over his face. It was so dramatic that it would have shamed a youngling’s tantrum.
I sighed, set down my sword, and reached out a hand, placing it over one of his clawed ones. His skin was hard and rough, like stone worn by time and weather, an unnatural chill seeping from it.
The beautiful scales that covered his limbs and down his back had just started to harden, leaving his arms and legs slick and shiny. The scales were now healthy, and the dark green sparkled in the light.
“I’m not going to do your breathing exercises again. I don’t need to breathe, Brir.” Artemis whined my name as he tipped his head backward, eyes closed in frustration. I leaned back, letting him go. “I need to get the fuck out of here. How can you stay inside this long?”
His frustration pulled a laugh from me. He was going stir-crazy. I felt the same way when I had first been banished. Theodora had given me something on which to focus my mind. Or someone to focus on. The memory of Arya’s small form when she had brought her to me flashed through my mind. The blood-covered youngling had been barely a dozen years old. The darkness that haunted her eyes had been heart-wrenching.
“Do you feel good enough to possibly go to the river? Stretch your legs. Maybe wash up?” I stretched my limbs over my head. “Dune can carry you if you get too tired.”
Artemis sat up so fast I thought he would fly off the floor. His huge smile was contagious as he nodded his head like a youngling.
“Hell yeah, anything to get out of this house. It’s been way too long since I’ve been able to bathe,” he told me, his white fangs glinting in the candlelight. I noticed the shape of his eyes had changed. The pupil was now slightly slanted, much like other species from my world.
“You bathed yesterday,” I corrected him.
“No, that was not bathing.” Artemis’s tone was sulky. “That was a sponge bath, and it isn’t the same. I feel gross, Brir.”
I laughed at his sulky expression, the sound echoing around the room. Moments like these made me increasingly fond of Artemis despite his abrasive nature; he was capable of surprising softness, which I had seen in how he treated Dune. The man treated Dune like a very loved pet. Giving him bits of his dinner like the one-ton creature couldn’t bite his hand off.
“Alright, alright,” I conceded, standing from my place and stretching my limbs. “Let’s get you to the river for a proper bath.”
Artemis’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he scrambled to his feet, looking even more like an eager child ready to be set loose on an adventure.
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. As much as he grumbled about cabin fever, there was no denying how much this little escapade meant to him. Still, I didn’t want to push him too far. I was worried that whatever caused the fit that had almost ended his life would return.
I stood up and grabbed the blanket off the nest.
“Dune, let’s get water,” I told the lazy creature who still hadn’t gotten up. He slowly stretched before he made his way into the main area. Artemis and I followed behind him.
Setting the basket down on the table, I grabbed the harness I had fashioned for Dune to carry the water drums and slung it onto his back before latching it. Artemis watched as I connected the drums to its side.
“I’m ready, you don’t have to ask. Let's go,” Artemis announced, the resolve in his voice belying the tremor that ran through his newly-scaled hands as he tried to hurry me along. His eyes, glowing eerily in the semi-twilight of our home, were set with the determination I’d come to admire in him.
I gestured for Artemis to follow, and he did after a moment of hesitation.
Artemis took the stairs slowly, with me in front and Dune at his back. The grumpy beast was helping Artemis keep his body upright, pressing his forehead into his back. Artemis was laughing, the sound echoing in the tunnel of the stairwell as he made his way up to the surface.
When we reached the door, sunlight poured in, burning my eyes. I raised a hand to shield them before I pulled on my goggles to soften some of the harsh light.
Artemis paused, blinking rapidly as he stepped into the light. His eyes seemed to adjust much faster than my own. The sun hit his shining scales, and the world seemed to hold its breath as he adjusted. I watched him from the corner of my eye, trying to keep my focus on the horizon. It was a sight that pulled at my heartstrings—a symbolic crossing of a bridge that could never be undone.
Dune, the unflappable creature that he was, merely grunted and trudged through the door, his tail brushing against Artemis’s leg in a kind gesture of solidarity. At least, that’s how I interpreted it.
“Are you alright?” I asked, turning to face Artemis. His eyes met mine through the protective lenses of my goggles; their depthless blue was now submerged in layers of translucence dulled from the lenses.
“I’m… fine.” He nodded as he panted for breath solemnly and took a hesitant step forward. “I forgot how many stairs there are. How deep is the bunker?”
“About twenty feet.” I shut the door and concealed it with foliage. I raised an eyebrow in concern as I observed his panting breaths. “You sure you’re okay with doing this?”
“I’m good,” Artemis reassured me, rolling his eyes. I watched his shoulders pull back and his chin lift, stubbornly daring me to tell him to go back downstairs. If I suggested it, he would just argue with me and refuse. He needed this time out of my home to move around.
“Does the light burn your eyes?” Artemis asked as we made our way through the forest.
“Yes. My species has always remained underground except at night,” I explained as I took his hand and led him down to the river.
“Then how…?” He paused, looking at me with a tinge of bewilderment. The sunlight was casting shifting, iridescent shadows on the scales that covered his body, making him look as alien as he felt. But he persevered, staring at me with an earnest curiosity that warmed my chest.
“I have adapted,” I explained simply, squeezing his hand lightly. "Like you are doing.”
“I… I don’t know much about your kind,” Artemis admitted, meeting my eyes. His own were wide, curious despite his obvious discomfort with his new form. “What was it like where you came from?”
I paused again, memories stirring like forgotten ghosts. “It’s… different,” was all I initially offered him. My home was not something I spoke of openly or freely.
But as I met his gaze, something in me softened. Maybe it was the honesty in his eyes or the vulnerability that lingered in his voice—whatever it was had me opening up just enough to give him a glimpse of my past.
Artemis looked nervous as he caught his swinging tail in his hand. He started to fidget nervously with the spikey end. “Will you tell me?” Artemis asked. I didn’t want to talk about my world, but I didn’t know how to say that. Explain how much it hurt not to be there. To miss something I would never see again.
“Our world was different, different plants. Our waters were cleaner. Our world was bigger than this one, farther from the sun,” I rushed out quickly as the wind rustled my hair when I looked away from him.
“Seriously?” Artemis looked at me, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the side, one eyebrow raised. He looked at me like he was tired of my bullshit. “That’s all you’re going to give me? I’ve told you tons about myself.”
I huffed. My jaw tightened. He wasn’t wrong. I knew almost everything about the man that was walking beside me.
“What do you want from me, Artemis?” I turned my face away from him, trying to cut off the subject. “I don’t know what to tell you,” I admitted honestly.
There was silence between us again, but this time, it felt different. Like an understanding had been reached. Artemis nodded silently, holding my gaze for a moment longer before he returned his attention to the spike in his hands. His fingers trailed over the sharp point before he let his tail go.
“Well, I’d like to see it someday,” he said pensively. “It seems exciting to see another planet.”
I couldn’t hold back the dark chuckle that slipped past my lips at that wishful thought. “We can’t go back, Artemis.” My heart twisted at the bitter truth of those words. Seeing my home world, there was something comforting about sharing that dream with someone else, even if it was a fantasy.
“Why not?” he asked, almost sounding hurt as if I’d told him he couldn’t eat the treat he was holding. I sighed deeply.
“When the rupture between our worlds happened, it killed our planet. That’s why we are all here. We needed a new home.” I answered him honestly. Artemis’s expression turned somber. “There is nothing to return to but dead ground and toxic air.”
The reality of our displacement was a harsh truth to bear, one that I had long since come to terms with, but witnessing Artemis grapple with it stirred old wounds within me.
“We are remnants of a world lost to us now,” I continued, my voice laced with sorrow. “There is no going back.”
“I’m so sorry,” I glanced over my shoulder at him. The sadness on his face showed that he cared, and it pulled at my heart that he did.
“It’s life, Artemis.” I shrugged as I turned back towards the path. I could feel his gaze on my back, heavy with empathy and a sadness that felt too deep for him to understand. “Worlds are born, and worlds die.”
“I… I wish I could do something,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the buzzing of the insects in the woods.
I looked at him, examining him in the bright light. His blue eyes were now laced with an alien indigo hue; his hands, which were once tender and soft, were now hardened with scales. In this light, you could see just how green they were. Flecks of gold glimmered, the sharp, bone-like spikes protruding from his tail’s end. The spines I had had to remove to keep him safe. He didn’t belong here any more than I did. He no longer looked human. He would never be accepted back in the society that he came from.
“We survived,” I stated firmly, meeting his gaze. “That’s what we can do, Artemis.”
His lips tugged into a grim smile, “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all along?”
“Yes,” I agreed quietly.
???
The trek to the river typically took me about twenty minutes, less if I ran, but this time, it took us almost double that. We moved slowly for Artemis, who had to look at everything. Even Dune, who was always impatient, didn’t run ahead. He just followed Artemis. We had almost broken the tree line when Artemis saw a tree covered with insects, their black and green wings fluttering slightly. They were creatures I knew well, but Artemis seemed entranced by them.
Artemis’s jaw dropped as he stopped, and Dune almost collided with him. “Holy…”
His eyes widened at the sight of the rare, vibrant creatures fluttering several yards away. Artemis’s voice trailed off. He stared at the cluster of vibrant butterflies with wings spanning nearly a foot across. “Queen Alexandra’s?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “They’re only found in Papua New Guinea!” He took a step forward to approach the insect, but I touched his forearm to stop him. He looked at me with confusion etched on his face. “I’ve never seen them before.” His excitement turned to curiosity as he looked at me for an explanation.
I placed myself between him and the towering trees. “Don’t go near them.” My stern voice left no room for him to disobey me. “Those creatures may resemble insects you used to know but are not the same. Not anymore.” I took a deep breath and continued, “They have bred with an insect from our world, creating a new species. This one here—is not your Queen Alexandra’s any longer. They are not harmless.”
“But they’re just butterflies.” Artemis tried to move past my arm, but I wouldn’t let him move towards that tree.
I gripped his arm tightly, my eyes fixed on the colorful insects clinging to the towering tree above us.
“They may seem peaceful now, but when they’re active, they will swoop down and feast on their prey’s blood, devouring them alive,” I explained to him. Artemis’s eyes widened in disbelief as I continued. “A swarm this large could drain all the blood from your body in just a few minutes. We need to stay back. If you want to admire them, you can do so from a safe distance.” With that, he let me pull him away from danger and back onto the path towards the river. I was relieved that he’d listened to me.
“Wait, you’re telling me that they now drink the blood of their prey?” Artemis’s eyes were wide with wonder, and a small, excited smile was on his face.
“Yes.”
“Oh my god, they’re vampire butterflies!” he exclaimed in an excited whisper. “What are they called?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think they have a name. If they do, I don’t know it.”
“You mean, I get to name a whole new species?” The excitement on his face made me laugh.
“I guess so,” I agreed. I only knew of the species being in these woods. I hadn’t seen them anywhere else.
“Yes!” Artemis practically screamed. I glanced back at the creatures, but Artemis didn’t startle them. “What should I call them? Okay, tell me everything you know about them.”
So I explained. The insects had poor eyesight and didn’t notice us. They covered the bark of the tree. Their wings fluttered, making the tree glimmer like it was covered in jewels. Despite their deadly nature, I couldn’t deny that the creatures were stunningly alluring. I had found that out the hard way. I knew how much it hurt to be bitten by one and how tired their venom could make someone. I was lucky to only run into one back when they were new. I wouldn’t risk Artemis’s safety by looking closely at them.
I laced our fingers together to keep him at my side. His slightly colder scales made me aware of how much I enjoyed holding onto him.
The look on his face was still excited. “No… way.” His voice was barely above a whisper. His gaze was torn between the deadly creatures and me. “That’s…” He shook his head.
“The world changed, Artemis,” My voice was thick with regret and sorrow. I wished I could let him look at them just to see how happy it would have made him. “It’s not how it used to be.”
“That’s crazy. I can’t believe anything from your world could breed with something from ours. The amount of genomes that would have had to be similar to create a hybrid like that is unbelievable. I wonder if they still go through metamorphosis?”
“Metamorphosis?” I asked, puzzled by the word. I tugged at his hand and pulled him back to the trail that would take us to the river.
As we walked, Artemis explained how insects change during their life cycle before changing the topic as he tried to figure out what he should name the hybrid insect.
“What about Alexavamp?” he asked but then shook his head. “No, that sucks.” He didn’t even wait for me to answer; he just kept walking and talking to himself. I was fine just listening to him rattle off names to himself. “Dracondria, no, I don’t like that either.”
“Oh, I got it.” He spun around to walk backward, facing me with a huge smile. “Vampandrias.”
“I like that.” The name sounded like something from my world with how the syllables rolled off the tongue.
Eyeing the scales on his arms, I couldn’t help but realize that Artemis had gone through his own metamorphosis. I had a new name for him. I smiled at the thought and how animated Artemis was when he spoke about things he loved. His face lit up, and his hands moved along with his words.
“They do go through metamorphosis. I have seen the chrysalises,” I disclosed.
Artemis stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening with wonder at my revelation. “Chrysalises? That’s incredible,” he breathed. “You, by chance, wouldn’t have a pad of paper and pens or pencils around, would you?” he asked me.
I gave him a puzzled look. “Why?” I asked as he turned back around, walking by my side.
“I want to draw them,” Artemis admitted, his gaze focused on the distance where the butterflies rested.
I paused and considered his request. It was an odd idea, but also very much like him. He wanted to understand these creatures, to capture their beauty despite their deadly nature. Perhaps more importantly, he wanted a remnant of this moment—a moment in which we had stood side by side against an unknown danger and emerged unscathed.
“I do not, but we can look for things you need in the abandoned town nearby another day.” I had already started making plans to add the things he was asking for to the list I had in my head.
“I wanted to be an entomologist before the world went to shit,” he told me. “I wanted to study bugs. I had a scholarship to go to this fancy college and everything. Apollo was going to be a vet. Animals were always her thing. People weren’t. I guess that was true for both of us. I paid more attention to the insects,” Artemis said with an almost shy smile.
I didn’t understand what some of what he explained meant, but I knew it was important to him, so I nodded as we made our way to the water’s edge.
“An entomologist,” I echoed, tasting the foreign word on my tongue. It was a facet of Artemis I had yet to discover, and it warmed my heart to hear him open up about his past. We had shared so much, yet there was still so much to learn about each other.
Artemis turned to me, his curiosity piqued. “How do you know so much about the Vampandrias?”
I hesitated, debating how much I should reveal to him. “I was once bitten by one,” I confessed.
Artemis stared at me in shock. “Bitten by one? What happened?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself to recount the memories that still haunted my dreams. “It was a few years ago.” The words tumbled out as I relived the chilling moment. “I was exploring deeper into the forest. I hadn’t seen them before, and they are very stunning. I got too close, and one landed on me. Creatures from my world that are brightly colored are normally harmless, so I didn’t think anything of it till it bit me.”
Artemis listened intently, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Holy fuck,” Artemis said, though his empathy was palpable even without words.
“I was just lucky it was only one. My whole arm went numb, but they must secrete some pheromone when they bite because the others started to swarm me. They chased me for almost a mile before I jumped in the lake to lose them under the water.”
Artemis remained silent for a moment, processing the gravity of my revelation.
“Well, I won’t go near them,” he reassured me. “I don’t think I could outrun them with my new legs. I would probably trip and get eaten.” Artemis's tone was sad as he looked down at his new feet. With each step, his claws dug into the earth just a bit from the pressure of his body weight.
“Thank you.” The pressure eased in my chest a little. I hadn’t noticed how nervous I had gotten at the thought of him approaching the insects. The thought of him getting hurt made my stomach flip uneasily.
Artemis changed the subject and started pointing out different things he spotted around the forest. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself smiling again, almost despite myself.