Chapter 13 #2

“Talk to me,” Zathar said at some point, “I don’t like this silence.

” I was happy to oblige even if I was telling myself that I didn’t believe in ghosts.

First I just talked about silly things back on Earth that I liked or didn’t like, it was fun to explain strange concepts to him to see how he’d respond.

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around things like the library or a coffee shop, and it was cute to see him try.

But when he asked about my Clan back home I found myself spilling everything.

The Clayborne family and their status on Earth, the rich homes I’d grown up in, sometimes beneath the domes on the moon, sometimes on Earth itself.

I told him about my black sheep status and my unedited genes that had made me an outcast in my own family.

I even told him of my mother’s last words to me just minutes before I was supposedly executed.

How she’d set me up to take the fall for something so it would benefit my family.

Zathar hissed furiously, his expression growing darker with each word but he didn’t interrupt me and that was nice. It felt cleansing to spill it all, to put into words what I’d gone through and how I’d been treated. It was unfair, and I hadn’t deserved any of it.

“I do not understand what this gene editing is, but it sounds to me like it let you keep your heart and your soul when they did not.” His deep voice struck a chord inside my chest, something good and bright that unfurled in response to it.

I was a good person, and my family was not, they were cold, selfish, and greedy.

Maybe it was the gene editing that had caused it, and if so, I was glad they hadn’t done that to me.

“So we are both outcasts, we match,” he added with a grin. “Made for each other.” I liked that; that he was my match, and that he was the one person in the whole universe that I fit with so completely. For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to be wanted, truly wanted.

It was also easy to talk with Zathar. When I ran out of things to tell for the moment, he took over, filling me in on his life here on Serant, the village, and his position as firstborn of the Clan’s Queen.

I loved his anecdotes on hunting and the antics Iave, Corin and he got into.

It made the time pass as we moved through the ghost city and then suddenly Zathar was following a narrow path up against the wall that zigzagged with sharp pin turns all the way to the top.

Both of us could smell the fresh air from outside as soon as we reached the tunnel at the top.

This one was not nearly as big as the one we’d used to enter this place, but it still looked like a highway that could accommodate a double stream of vehicles, one heading each way.

If my hunch about these paths was correct, then the empty stone city we were leaving behind must have once been awash with flying vehicles skimming above it, beneath the giant stone dome.

It must have been one hell of a sight and I hoped we could go back to see if there was a hologram of that too.

“Almost there, I don’t think this tunnel is quite as long,” Zathar said.

His pace picked up once we were just following a gently curving path.

I cradled the lantern in my arms, watching the walls and ceiling as we flashed by at a rapid speed, his tail moving soundlessly as he slithered over the smooth stone floor.

When the tunnel exit came into view he slowed and we could tell it was similar to that huge gate we’d used to enter this place. Only this was a much smaller version, with a chamber branching off on either side and carved pillars that wound like snakes around the opening.

There was a clearing beyond it, the skies pink and silvery, with dark purple trees sticking up like jagged teeth in the distance. I didn’t think this entrance had statues like the other one, but when we exited the gate, my breath faltered at the sight of the carvings.

These had been better preserved, or maybe they were just newer, but it allowed me to see far more of the exquisite details that made up the segmented snake tails wrapped around each pillar that framed the entrance.

They were actual snakes, with giant heads and long fangs; not Naga, and they looked both beautiful and menacing.

“They are Rakworms,” Zathar explained, “And that is their actual size, if you ever see one, run to dry land as fast as you can.” That was an ominous warning if there ever was one and I eyed the beautiful carvings in a new light.

After knowing Zathar, it wasn’t nearly as difficult to imagine a fifty feet long snake but it was still terrifying.

“Okay, Rakworms are like Anaconda, they like the water?” I asked, smiling when Zathar slid me down his body to set my feet on the ground just outside of the tunnel.

I was still looking at the carvings, impressed with the detail to each scale carved in the black stone, down to the vicious look in their eyes.

Zathar was moving around me, but a part of his tail was already curling around my legs, keeping contact, almost forcing me to stay in place with the way he now gripped me. “Mmm, yeah, that’s it, they prefer water. Marshes, rivers, ponds, that sort of thing, but they’ll migrate to follow prey.”

He sounded lost in thought, his vivid blue eyes scanning the ground around the mouth of the cave.

When his hand moved up to hover near the handle of one of his swords alarm bells went off in my own head.

He had noticed something, seen something, and it had put him on edge.

I wasn’t sure if he was aware of that hand near his weapon but now that I’d seen it, I was extremely aware of how unarmed I was.

Come to think of it, wasn’t this the place where Corin, Reid, and Cosima were supposed to meet us?

Scanning the small clearing I saw no sign of them, no campfire remains, no footsteps.

But maybe they would have camped in one of the chambers just inside the tunnel, not that I was brave enough to go in there on my own.

“There was a struggle,” Zathar murmured, “But they are gone now.” His arm lifted to point at a tree on the edge of the forest. Deep purple like the rest of them, the trunk was a dark gray, and its shape was reminiscent of a giant conifer.

To me, it looked no different than any of the others but when I stepped over Zathar’s long tail to get a closer look I noticed what he had.

Scratches in the bark, too uniform to be anything but intentional.

“Corin left us a sign to follow, this way,” he added and he shouldered his backpack and turned in the direction of a tall mountain peak in the distance.

Not tall enough to be capped with snow but sharp and jagged, like spikes or fangs.

It looked frightening and far away, were we going all the way to that mountain? That would take days…

It was also the complete opposite direction from the scratches, or what could be construed as an arrow-like shape left carved as the upper left symbol. Zathar had told me about the coded message he’d left for Iave, was that what Corin had done for us?

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