The Star Dwellers (32 page)

Holding my breath, I pass by the door
quickly. Tawni’s face is brimming with fear. I guess there’s more
than one dark side to the Star Realm.

Ten minutes later we reach the end of the
subchapter buildings. A dark hole stands before us. “Do we have to
go in there?” Tawni asks slowly.

“Unfortunately, yes,” my mom replies. “The
Star Realm tunnels are small and claustrophobic, but it’s the only
way to get where we’re going.”

“And where is that exactly?” I ask.

“The Resistance has maintained a train line
hidden from the sun dwellers for many years. We need to access
it.”

“And we can’t take a public train?” Tawni
asks hopefully. She really doesn’t want to go into that tunnel, not
that I blame her.

“We can’t risk it, especially after what the
generals told us. There could be more spies that they don’t even
know about. If there was any other way, believe me, we’d take
it.”

“Let’s get it over with,” I say.

Mom nods and leads us into the tunnel, me
then Tawni then Trevor, all of us stooping to avoid hitting our
heads on the jagged rocks protruding from the ceiling. The walls
close in on us immediately and I fight the urge to turn around and
run out.

In ten minutes my back is aching from being
hunched over and my arms and legs are scratched and bleeding from
frequent accidental brushes against the rough walls. It’s like
everything in my life before this point—all the harsh living
conditions, my time in the Pen, my harried escape through the Moon
Realm—have been preparing me for this. I’m tough. I’ve been around
the block. I can handle it.

An hour later I’m doubting myself.

“How much further?” I say, desperate for a
chance to stretch out my back and legs.

“Not even close, honey,” my mom says, somehow
managing to sound like the kind and loving mother that she is, even
under the harshest conditions.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Tawni says
behind me. She’s a lot taller than me, which makes the hunching
even worse. I realize this is a time when I’m going to need to be
strong for her, another chance to pay her back for the strength she
showed when Cole died, when I was at my lowest low.

“Yes you can, Tawni. You can do this. We all
can. We all will. Let me know when you need a break, no matter how
often, and we’ll stop and try to stretch out.”

I hear Trevor’s voice carry from further
back, agreeing with me. “We’re all in this together.” He sounds so
supportive—nothing like the jerk I thought he was.

I hear her take a heavy breath out, and she
says, “Okay. I’ll do my best.” We continue on, stopping almost
every fifteen minutes to rest and so that Tawni—and all of us
really—can lie down and stretch out our backs and legs. The
splintered rocks on the tunnel floor dig into our skin, but none of
us care—it’s like a hardcore massage to us.

Perhaps two hours pass. The tunnel has been
moving downwards the whole way, getting steeper and steeper with
each step. The temperature has been rising, too, as if we really
are descending into the bowels of hell. It certainly feels that
way.

My body is dripping sweat from every pore,
and the rock particles are clinging to my skin, making it appear
gray and dusty. I start to feel faint as the heat feels like it
gains another five degrees in an instant. “Mom?” I say.

“Almost there,” she replies, reading my
mind.

Two steps, three. Four, five. And then we
stumble out of the tunnel, into a long cavern bursting with red
light. I’ve never seen it before, but know exactly what it is,
where we are.

“The lava flow,” I murmur.

“One of many,” Mom says.

There’s a deep depression, brimming with
flowing, churning viscous lava, crackling and popping with energy.
The heat is stifling, pretty much unbearable.

I notice Tawni and Trevor stretching out and
I follow their lead, touching my toes and twisting from side to
side, trying to loosen out the crooks in my back. “Why are we
here?” I ask.

Mom answers: “We knew the Sun Realm would
never expect a hidden train line this close to the lava flow—nor
would they want to come down here. It’s very close to here.”

She gives us a minute to finish stretching
and pour delicious water over our lips and tongues, and then we
must move on. Breathing is difficult in the oppressive heat as we
pass the molten lava flow.

“How would you like to work down here?”
Trevor asks.

“No thanks,” Tawni says.

“People can’t really work down here, can
they?” I ask.

“They can, and they do,” Trevor says. “My old
man was a lava worker, hauling garbage from all across the
Tri-Realms down to the flow, dumping it in, watching the flow
devour it. He used to tell me stories about the stuff people from
the Sun Realm would throw away. Stuff that we would kill for down
here. Mountains of uneaten food, soft mattresses, furniture, all
kinds of crap. He was under strict presidential orders that
everything had to be destroyed, no exceptions. Those who were
caught trying to forage through the garbage would have to pay the
consequences.”

“That’s crazy,” I say. “What were the
consequences?” After my experiences with the Enforcers, I’m almost
scared to ask.

“They didn’t say. But this one time my dad
gave in to temptation, came home with a beautiful new bed for my
brother and me to share. When he gave it to us, he said, ‘To hell
with the rules.’” Trevor takes a deep breath. “He seemed so happy
to give it to us, and honestly, I was so proud of my dad. He stood
up for himself. The next day he didn’t come home from work. We
never saw him again.”

My eyelids slowly close and I stumble when I
step on a rock that rolls away under my feet. Trevor grabs my arm
and steadies me. “Trevor, I’m sorry,” I say, and this time he lets
me say it, because I’m not really apologizing for anything, but
showing him that I’m saddened by his story.

“It’s okay. We got through it. We always do
down here.”

Supreme gratitude fills my chest as I realize
how blessed I am that my entire family is still intact, regardless
of all the bad stuff that’s happened to us.
We are a blessed
people
. I hear my father’s words ring in my head, from a time
long past.

We reach the end of the lava flow, where the
reddish glow disappears beneath the rock, leaving us behind. The
end of the cavern blocks our path. There’s no tunnel here and I
think my mom might have gotten confused, taken a wrong turn
somewhere.

Before I can voice my question, she smiles
and says, “Now we go up.”

Tilting my head back, I gaze up along the
pocked rock wall. Near the very top is a dark space, as if there’s
a hidden tunnel. You’d never even notice it unless you knew it was
there.

“How do we get up?” Tawni asks, staring
sharply at the thirty-foot wall.

I know the answer. “We climb,” I say.

“Without ropes?” Tawni’s eyes are worrying
again. She’s not the most coordinated and I can almost see the
vision behind her eyes: her legs tangling as she falls away from
the wall into the lava flow below.

I look at my mom, hoping she’s got some
brilliant—and safe—method of getting us to the top. “Without
ropes,” she confirms. “However, we’ll tie ourselves together, so if
one person falls, the others can try to keep them on the wall. Be
vigilant with your hand- and footholds at all times and we’ll get
through this.”

Tawni doesn’t look convinced, but she seems
better knowing she’s not on her own. I put a hand on her shoulder
comfortingly, and she manages an unnatural smile. “I guess the only
way to conquer your fears is by facing them,” she says, but I know
she doesn’t believe her own words.

“That’s right,” I lie.

We tie our packs tight around our shoulders
until they bite into the skin under our arms. Then we tie our packs
to each other’s. It seems like a lame attempt at safety but I think
we all feel better by doing it.

“This wall has plenty of good handholds,” Mom
says, “so don’t settle for bad ones. Before moving up to the next
one, make sure you’re secure. We’ll move up as a team. Ready?”

No one says anything, which she takes as a
yes. She gets into position, reaching up for the first hold, a deep
depression in the rock. And then she’s up, born only by the
strength and positioning of her own hands and feet on the wall.

I send Tawni up next, and despite her
concerns, she seems to quickly get the hang of it, using her height
to her advantage as she is able to access the best handholds simply
by stretching herself out.

I’m third, and although I’m not afraid of
heights, I feel a pang of fear thud in my chest. It’s like I’m
worried that after all I’ve been through, I might die because of a
stupid wall—and it scares me. But I find my first handhold and
manage to get up, pushing off with my legs. I don’t see Trevor
start climbing behind me, but know he’s there because of the jostle
of the ropes that connect us.

We move slowly upwards, like one organism, my
mom as the head, Tawni the torso, and Trevor the legs. I guess that
makes me the butt. One leg up, push off, reach with my arms, grab a
rock, raise the other leg, repeat. Again and again, until I know
we’re getting high. My heart continues to hammer in my chest and I
fight the urge to look down. My palms are sweaty with exertion—and
though I hate to admit it: fear.

I look up and see my mom clamber over the lip
at the top, disappearing for a moment. Then her head appears,
looking down at those of us still climbing. She offers a hand to
Tawni, who takes it, allowing Mom to pull her up the final few
feet. Finally, my heart rate slows. It wasn’t so bad, after all.
We’re all going to make it.

You know how bad things tend to happen when
you least expect them? Like right when a miner discovers a massive
gemstone, and he’s gawking at its beauty, that’s when the roof
collapses on his head. That’s how it is now. I’m not paying
attention and my foot isn’t completely secure when I push off. I
feel it slip off the edge and I wave my arms wildly, trying to find
something to grab onto. Both hands find holds, but my sweaty
fingers won’t grip the slippery stone.

I fall.

I’m very high up and I fall.

I cry out and Trevor does, too. There’s a
twitch as the rope connecting me to Tawni tightens, and then I’m
dangling in midair, swinging across the wall. I feel a jerk as my
momentum wrenches Trevor off the wall, too, and now his full weight
is pulling on my back.

Despite my better judgment, I look down.
Below me is hell, frothing with fire and death. I gasp, let out a
high-pitched shriek. Say something like, “Ohmygodohmygod!”

I hear my mom yell from above. “Reach for the
wall—both of you!”

I look up and expect to see fear in her eyes,
but instead there’s a gritty determination as she hangs on to
something I can’t see. Tawni is also dangling precariously, barely
clinging to the wall. My mom’s holding all of us up.

I grit my teeth and reach out an uncertain
foot to the wall, trying to stop us from swinging. As soon as my
foot touches the wall, we start to spin, the rope twisting. It’s
disorienting and it takes all of my willpower not to look down
again. “Trevor,” I say, “reach for the wall on three.”

“Okay!” he yells, his voice shaking.

“One!” I take a deep breath. “Two.” My hearts
slams against my ribcage. “Three!”

We both kick and scrabble and stretch for the
wall at the same time. Our synchronized motion stabilizes the
swinging, spinning rope for a moment, and I’m able to find a rock
to grab on to. One of my feet finds a hold, too, and suddenly I’m
back on the wall, secure, as if none of it ever happened. The only
reminder is the sharp pain in my shoulders from having Trevor’s
weight pulling against the straps of my pack.

“Now climb!” my mother yells.

I don’t look up, or down—just straight at the
wall, focused.

“You can do it, Adele!” I hear Tawni yell
from above. My trusted cheerleader has apparently made it. I push
off once, twice, and then strong arms are pulling me over the top.
My mother’s arms. My rock.

I’m exhausted, but it’s not time to rest yet.
Immediately I turn and grab one of Trevor’s arms as my mom grabs
the other. We haul him up. The four of us lie in a row, panting,
laughing stupidly, our tongues hanging out.

When I finally manage to push to my feet, I’m
stunned by the sight before me. In the least likely of spots,
there’s a train, doors open and ready to whisk us away.

Finally, I’m going to see Tristan again.

And my family.

All together in one place for the first
time.

F
or once, I’m well
rested. If I dreamt last night, I don’t remember. The Resistance is
situated so close to subchapter 1 that we’re able to walk there. I
feel like I’m at the head of a cavalry, me and Ben and Roc and
Elsey, marching out in front of a few hundred stomping boots. Vice
President Morgan left hours earlier to prepare for the peace summit
in her subchapter. Jinny’s here too, walking alongside Elsey, who
is chatting with her like we’re not heading to the most important
meeting that the Tri-Realms has seen in a hundred years or
more.

Naturally, my mind is on Adele. I wonder how
she’ll look. The last time I saw her, on the screen, she looked
confident and beautiful, but that was before someone tried to kill
her. Why would Brody do that? All we know is he was a spy for my
father, but why target Adele? Is it because of who her parents are?
Sort of a revenge for their efforts at resisting his rule? Or does
he know what she means to me? Is he taking another shot at me? I
remember his declaration from the presidential steps, when he was
speaking to all traitors:
…brought down like a hammer on you and
those you care about.
It felt like he was reaching through the
telebox then, grabbing me by the collar and speaking those words
directly to me. If he was targeting Adele because of me, he’ll
surely try again. When she arrives I’ll stay by her side at all
times just in case.