Chapter Fifteen

Severine nestled the baby into Eden’s arms and leaned down to touch a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at her with his sweet little eyes and she saw his lips part and curve into the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Hallow,” she whispered. “I love you.”

She kissed him again and felt his little hand come up to touch the side of her face. It filled Severine with a sense of joy that this tiny child seemed to recognize her now. He knew who she was and was forming love and attachment for her, something more beautiful and treasured than she could have ever imagined that she would have the opportunity to experience. She didn’t carry him or deliver him, and in that way, would never be a replacement for his mother. He would know what had happened to his birth mother. Severine and Rilex would ensure that he knew the story of his birth and the incredible sacrifice that that brave woman made to bring him into the world. She would also do anything that she needed to to make sure that this little one, this beautiful, sweet boy who they had finally given the most perfect name, knew that no matter how he had been born and how he had come to be in her arms, she loved him with all that she was.

“He’ll be fine,” Eden said. “I will take care of him.”

“I know you will,” Severine said. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

“Of course. Are you sure that you don’t want me to ask Pyra to go with you? I hate the idea of you going out there alone.”

“No, thank you. I won’t be alone. Rilex is coming with me. And I know the area where we’re going very well. We’ll be alright.”

Eden looked extremely concerned at the thought of them leaving the compound just the two of them, and Severine appreciated that she felt that way and was thinking about them, but she didn’t want anyone else going with them. It was only them and Hallow when they discovered the body and she felt that this was something that they needed to do on their own. There would come a point when they needed to let the rest of the crew know about the body, but going for him in the tunnel and trying to find a way to bring him back was sensitive and solemn. Even though she didn’t yet know who he was, or if she would ever know, Severine wanted to give him as much respect as she possibly could.

Touching Hallow’s head one more time, she turned and left the house, meeting Rilex outside where he waited for her.

“Is he alright?” Rilex asked.

Severine nodded.

“Lysander is in there playing. It’s hard to believe that Hallow will ever be that big. He’s just so sweet and tiny now.”

“But he is much bigger than he was when he was born,” Rilex said.

Severine drew in a breath and nodded, still remembering the fear of when the baby was born, so fragile as he entered the world weeks before he was supposed to. She hadn’t known what she was supposed to do for him, how she was supposed to protect and care for him. All she could do was let the love and instinct that she had immediately felt when she saw him take over and guide her as she gently nurtured and supported him through his first delicate days of life. Over time he had gotten stronger, however, and she was no longer terrified of every moment that something was going to happen to him.

“He will just keep getting stronger,” she said.

“He will as long as you keep taking care of him the way that you do.”

“As long as we keep taking care of him.”

Rilex stepped up to her and kissed her, leaning to rest their foreheads together for a brief moment.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Severine smiled. She felt like she would never get tired of hearing those words coming out of his mouth. They were words that meant so much more to her than just the simple meaning behind them.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Severine reached down and picked up the bag that she had packed to bring with her. Though the journey that they were about to take was not nearly as long as the crossing from the ship to the compound, she had learned that she was never able to predict what was going to happen, and she needed to be prepared to handle whatever they might face.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Rilex held a torch in one hand, but she knew that he had a stash of lightsticks tucked into the bag that he carried. Though both would provide illumination for them during their trip, the two different forms of light were intended for different purposes. While the lightsticks were lighter and lasted longer, the torch was more powerful, acting both as a source of light and a weapon.

They stayed close to one another as they walked, making their way along the wall around the compound toward the exit of the tunnels that they had used the first time they made their way to the compound with the Meldor. Though she would have liked to have the animal with her, she was also glad that he didn’t have to go through going back down into the tunnels. Even if he was with them and reassured throughout that he was not being brought back down there to stay, and that he wasn’t going to be forced to do anything, she knew that the Meldor wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t imagine the fear that the animal would feel thinking that it was being led back down into the tunnels and a life of torment. Severine would rather be without him and have to confront anything that might occur with only Rilex to support her than to force the creature to endure any more.

The walk to the entrance to the tunnels seemed shorter as they traveled from the compound than it had when they were making their way to the compound and soon they were standing at the edge of the slope that led downward into the ground. The entrance was positioned in such a way that it seemed far too small, but Severine knew that it was large enough to accommodate the Meldor. Rilex held the torch down toward the entrance to splash some of the light toward the tunnel. When they didn’t see any sign of movement or hear any voices, they continued on. As they moved through the tunnels Severine could see indications that the hybrid army had been this way recently. They had come here since she and Rilex had brought the Meldor out, likely investigating the movement that they had heard and the apparent disappearance of the creature. Of course, they knew by now that the animal was with them, creating even more separation between the two groups and putting more protection between the crew within the compound and the hybrids.

“They’ve been here,” she told Rilex, gesturing toward one of the walls.

He looked in the direction that she was pointing and shook his head.

“What is it?” he asked.

Severine stepped up closer to the wall and pointed one finger toward the symbol etched into the wall. Rilex lifted the torch, providing more light and revealing that this portion of the wall was covered in the tiny etchings.

“Do you see the number beside the symbols?” she asked.

“Yes,” Rilex said. “What do they mean?”

“That symbol represents the army,” she said. “Ryan designed it. It was meant to be a visual representation of the group as a whole, but each of the hybrids was also instructed to use it to indicate themselves when they did things that needed to be recorded. It was a message, a show that none of us were individuals. We were, in fact, just pieces of a larger being, nameless, faceless, unidentifiable. No one of us could be differentiated from any other, or from the army as a whole. He also used it to make sure that his soldiers did exactly what he asked of them when he asked it of them. It was another means of control and making sure that we complied without question. When he asked one of us to perform a task, such as walking down to this end of the tunnels to make sure that no one had infiltrated them, or to go to the other end of Penthos in search of something that he believed to be there, the symbol was an act of proof that it was done.”

“But how?” Rilex asked. “There are hundreds of these symbols all over the wall. If everyone used the same symbol repeatedly, how did he know who had used it and when it was done?”

“That’s where the numbers come in. When he delegated a task he would go to that individual hybrid and tell them a number. They were not to speak it to anyone else, and as soon as they got the assignment, they were to leave on it. No detours. No returning to the barracks for supplies. No interacting with anyone. When they reported to wherever they needed to be to complete their task, they were to carve the symbol and put the number that Ryan had given them. Though he didn’t do it every time, sometimes he would send some of the Valdicians out to the destination without telling them what number they were to look for. When they returned, he would ask for the most recent-looking number. If it was there, he knew that the soldier that he had sent had done what was asked of them, when it was asked of them.”

“And if it wasn’t?”

Severine shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about that any further.

“These are fresh,” she said. “They haven’t been here more than a few days. That means that Ryan, or at least the Valdicians, are still sending soldiers into this area for surveillance even if they haven’t been given orders to attack.”

“So, they definitely know that we are in the compound,” Rilex said.

Severine nodded.

“Of course, they do. It is the most logical place to go. It provides protection, shelter, amenities that would be difficult to come by if we tried to establish a camp for ourselves while on Penthos.”

“Then why haven’t they attacked? It’s not as though there is a gate to lock them out.”

“No, but there is something much worse.”

“What?”

“Ryan. He very strictly instilled in us that we were never to go into the compound. That is a sacred place for him. It is where the Valdicians, under the guidance of Odin, Ryan’s great-grandfather, held the prisoners captive, and how they lured Nyx 23 to the surface of the planet. He doesn’t believe that the hybrids are worth stepping foot through the archway, no matter what.”

“So, he knows that we’re there, but refuses to allow them to enter the compound to get to us because he believes that it would defile the site of something so horrible.”

“Yes,” she said. “He would rather force the army to wait out an eternity of us being within the walls of the compound without the hybrids entering it so that he could proclaim that the site was still protected and pristine than loosen his standards even the slightest bit.”

“But doesn’t he realize that there are already hybrids on the compound? You are there. There are at least four hybrid men who are still healing. Lysander, Ero, and Ty. They are all there.”

“I don’t know if he knows that,” Severine said. “And even if he did, it wouldn’t be enough to justify it. He would say that we forced ourselves into the compound and overtook it, desecrating the land, but that that was different from him giving permission for hybrids to enter the space. Had he done that, it would have seemed unforgivable.”

She felt intensely invested in telling Rilex what she knew about Ryan, feeling as though the more that she talked about him and revealed about the things that he had done, the more she weakened him. He became less mythical, less intimidating with every story that she told about him and it made her hungry to expose only more. With every bit she was getting stronger, freeing herself from him further, and diminishing the monolithic power that he had built up for himself. She was so deep in the conversation that she barely recognized when they had moved beyond the chamber where they had finally cornered the frightened and hurting Meldor and discovered the brutal collar around his neck, and that they were now standing in front of the chamber that held the body.

They hadn’t said anything, but both Severine and Rilex had stopped when they reached the doorway. There was a solemn sense of ritual and respect that caused them to pause and wait for a few seconds before entering as if giving the body the opportunity to know that they were there. When they finally stepped inside, Rilex settled the torch into the holder on the wall so that it would spread light through the chamber and illuminate the skeleton lying on the ground. That gesture made something occur to Severine.

“The torch,” she said.

“What about it?” Rilex asked.

She crossed the room and stood beside the torch, pointing at it.

“Did you move a torch out of the holder?” she asked.

“No,” Rilex said.

“And do you see one anywhere around here?”

“No,” he answered again, sounding both confused and intrigued.

“And there isn’t one anywhere around him.”

“No,” he said. “There wasn’t when we first found him, either.”

“Exactly,” Severine said.

“Exactly what?” Rilex asked.

“How did he get through the tunnels? He didn’t have a torch and there are no signs of lightsticks anywhere around him. So how did he navigate the dark tunnels and chambers, and why did he have a book with him?”

“Maybe he did because he had no other choice,” Rilex said. “He came down here because he had to. Not having a light was something that didn’t occur to him until he was already down here, or he wasn’t able to stop long enough to find one.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s still here,” Severine said. “Without light, he wouldn’t have been able to make it very far through the tunnels safely. He likely got lost and couldn’t find his way out again.”

She rested down on her knees beside the man. The concept of dying in such a miserable, lingering way was horrifying, and she could only hope that he was already weakened and exhausted when he came down so that he would have succumbed more mercifully.

“He was so close to the exit,” Rilex said. “Less than an hour walk. If he had just kept going, he might have been able to find his way. The light coming in from the outside would have been enough to guide him eventually.”

“Maybe that wasn’t the direction he was going,” Severine said. “We assume that he got this far from one of the other entrances and was headed toward that exit, but what if he wasn’t? What if he entered the tunnels through the same place that we just did, and was trying to make his way further?”

“There’s something that I’ve just noticed,” Rilex said.

“What?”

“No symbols,” he said.

“What?” Severine asked.

“There are no symbols in this chamber.” He reached into his bag and pulled out one of the lightsticks. Turning it on, he guided it around the space to illuminate the walls. He focused primarily on the area near the door.

“Nothing,” he said. “Not even a single one of the symbols.”

“What do you think that that means?”

“It means that no one is being sent to check on him. No one is coming out here to make sure that the body is still lying. That means only one of two things. Either Ryan and his Valdicians put such little importance on it being there that they didn’t bother to send anyone specifically to check on it.” She looked down at the body again. “Or they didn’t know that it was here in the first place.”

“We need to get him back to the compound,” Rilex said. “We need to figure out who he was and see if we can somehow find out why he was down here. What we know now is that he wasn’t put down here to die, and Ryan didn’t kill him and then discard his body down here. If either one of those was the case, Ryan would still be checking on him. He has killed and seen to the deaths of countless people, and unless I’m wrong, he hasn’t created any sort of memorial or shrine to them so that he can pay his respects.”

Severine scoffed, shaking her head as she focused on the way that the man’s clothing lay across the sand so that she didn’t have to think about the deaths that she had witnessed.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “Remember, we aren’t truly living beings to Ryan. Death for any of the hybrids is not a matter of a life ending, but of a piece of machinery malfunctioning. There is no ritual or honoring for the hybrid dead, there is only processing of the body and then replacement of the body by completing the first phase of training with another of his creations and drawing the next generation in to begin their preparations. Every time that a hybrid man dies, a hybrid child goes to war.

“Then if he had anything to do with this person being down here, there would be tremendous significance to it. That would have to mean that this person was incredibly important, and if he was important enough to justify the trouble of either being offered up to the tunnels as a slow and torturous death, or to kill and then put him down here as if he was lying in state, Ryan would definitely want to keep an eye on him. Yet there are no symbols. No hybrids have come this way. If we can find out who he is and how he got into the tunnels, we might be able to find out how and why he died.”

“Even more important,” Severine pointed out. “We can find out how and why he lived.”