Haven 6 (14 page)

Striver turned to Eri. She’d smiled at his joke, and it made him feel so good to make her happy. “But the others were never found, nor was the golden liquid. The village council sent out search parties for months, but none of them was ever seen again.”

Riley chimed in as he slung out his knife, cutting through a curtain of hanging moss. “They say Soren’s ghost still roams this bog looking for the swamp boar he was destined to kill. If you’re not careful, he’ll mistake you for the boar, and one of his arrows will go right through your heart.”

“Enough, Riley.” Striver gave Eri a consolatory smile and shook his head. “That last part is just Riley’s boar droppings.”

Eri waved it off. “That’s fine. You don’t think I’ve heard my fair share of ghost stories aboard the
Heritage
?”

Riley scoffed. “I bet they’re nothing compared to Soren’s Bog.”

Eri glared at him. “Much scarier, actually.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me the scariest one.”

Striver threw up his arms. Here they were, bickering like children, when both tribes had so much to learn about each other. If Eri’s people did colonize Refuge, how would his tribe ever get along with theirs?

Eri glanced over at him and raised one slender eyebrow. He shrugged. “Go ahead. We have all day.” Besides, he was interested in her life on the ship, and telling stories kept their minds off the sludge and kept them walking.

She hopped onto a mossy ledge and walked one foot in front of the other, her arms balancing with the walking stick.

“When someone dies on the ship, we eject their body into space in a small nanofiber coffin. They float for eternity into the unknown, drifting.”

The ledge ended and she jumped back into the swamp muck, splashing Riley’s boots. “A whole generation before mine, there was one family on the
Heritage
who lost their little girl, Lynex, to some rare disease. The computer tries to weed out such genetic deformities, matching the best pairs of people to create durable children who will live long, fruitful lives. But every so often, the calculations go wrong, and someone is born with a genetic weakness.”

“Lifemate pairing. How utterly hideous.” Riley threw a rock and it skimmed across the water.

Striver put up his hand. “Enough, Riley; let her tell the story.”

Eri waited until the waves in the surface stilled, her gaze far off, like she saw it happening in her mind. “This family didn’t want their little girl ejected into deep space. So, before the funeral, they switched the coffins and hid Lynex’s body in their family unit. The authorities ejected an empty coffin into space.”

“That’s not very scary.”

Eri raised her eyebrows tauntingly. “The scary part is coming.”

Riley furrowed his brow and took another swing at the next curtain of moss. “I’ll make sure to strap my boots on tighter.”

She ignored him, kicking away a vine floating in the muck. “They hid her body in her sleep pod and kept the airtight container closed to preserve her. One night, when they checked on her, the pod was empty. When they opened the lid, they saw scratch marks on the inside.”

Eri walked over to Riley and scratched his arm with her nails. To Striver’s surprise, he recoiled.

Laughing, she walked back to Striver’s side. “Anyway, they say her ghost haunts the decks at night, her malformed face scaring even the hardiest of men. They say she can manipulate technology, make your locator turn off like you’re dead, shut off the lights, anything to tease people.”

A shiver jolted up Striver’s spine. Her story chilled and impressed him at the same time. “That’s pretty scary, Eri.”

“That’s not all. One night when my sister and I played hide-and-seek in the abandoned corridors of the ship, I got lost. The lights flickered off, and I heard a scratching noise coming from behind me. At first I thought it could have been mice that had escaped the biodome. Then, as I listened harder, I heard a sniffle, like from some little kid’s nose.”

Striver was hooked. “Did you turn around?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No way. I used an alarm on my locater. I kept thinking she was going to turn it off, and then I’d be stuck, but the device kept wailing. Aquaria found me shaking in an air vent.”

Riley had grown quiet, and he stood by a grove of trees ahead. Striver wondered if Eri’s story had gotten to him. “Riley, you all right?”

“No.”

He gave Eri a questioning look and ran up to join him. “What’s the matter?”

Riley pointed to a broken branch and a place where the muck had been flattened in a large circle with two points at the top. “We’re not alone.”

Weaver watched as Snipe’s eyelids drooped and flickered. He’d sat in a nook in the wall where the golden glow couldn’t reach, and Weaver wondered if Snipe rested better in darkness or if the substance affected him as well. One more minute and the man would fall asleep. Weaver inched over to where Snipe had kicked his bow.

Where was Jolt? Crusty had been gone for several hours. Had the old man gotten lost in the cave?

“Psssst.”

Weaver whirled around. The blond prisoner flicked his head, inviting him over. Weaver paused, considering his offer. He wanted the linguist, but if Snipe caught him associating with the prisoners, he’d be a dead man.

He glanced at Snipe. The bodyguard’s chin rested on his chest, rising and falling with his deep breaths. Snipe rarely slept, and not for long. Weaver had precious seconds at most.

He shuffled over and crouched by the blond man, hiding behind a wide stalagmite almost as tall as he was. White lugworms crawled on the slick rock at the base, and he kicked them away, wondering how the man could suffer being tied. Poor guy must have hundreds of spidermite bites. Weaver whispered so softly, the faintest breeze would cover it. “What do you want?”

“Free us, and we’ll help you overpower him.” His blue gaze sparkled with intensity. This was not a man who’d back down easily.
Jolt has his hands full with this guy.

Weaver rubbed his chin. “What makes you think I’m not on his side?”

“I see the way you look at him, like you want something he has.”

More like the position he’s trying to inherit.
Weaver bit his tongue, remaining silent.

“What’s your name? Weasel?”

“Weaver,” he growled. Snipe’s demeaning nickname always bit him in the butt.

“Weaver, I’m Litus and this is Mars. Untie us and we’ll help you in return.”

Weaver knew exactly what Litus was doing: using names to make him more emotional, more attached.

“What’s to say you won’t just run away and leave me for dead?” One look at the man-woman told him he’d rather she remain tied up. Her eyes reminded him of the vicious mountain vultures that could pick out your eye in one swoop.

“My word.” The blond man’s face was set in stoic lines, making him look like some hero from the tales of Old Earth. He was a good guy; Weaver was sure of it, and the offer tempted him. Weaver’s fingers itched to untie their bindings. It would be so easy. But what he really needed was that linguist, and he doubted once they were untied they’d usher her back to this cave for him. Besides, if he let the prisoners free, none of the pirates would ever trust him again. He had to work around Snipe, not take the man out. Weaver shook his head. “No deal.”

Snipe shifted against the cave wall and Weaver shuffled back to his seat next to the pool of golden swirls. As Snipe turned his head to check on him, Weaver’s finger traced a symbol of three intersecting lines.

Snipe raised an eyebrow, his gaze burning a hole in Weaver’s forehead.

Don’t. Look. Up.
Weaver whispered the words, pretending he was deep in thought. He scribbled something unintelligible into the sand at his feet. The bodyguard sat back, balancing his blade on the tip of his finger and whistled a sour tune.

Too late. I should have moved when I had the chance.

But what would he have done? Even if he overpowered Snipe, he’d have to deal with Jolt and the other pirates. His only chance at power was deciphering the symbols of the golden pool, and he needed the linguist for that.

Weaver rubbed his temples, trying to ignore the swirls of golden liquid congregating around him, urging him to touch the surface and break the patterns with his fingertips. He didn’t need any more of those sentimental dreams making him weak. He turned away, watching the prisoners instead. The glow danced along the cavern walls, revealing reddish swirls in the rock and then falling back to the shadows. Even with his back turned he couldn’t get away from its call.
That
was power. If only he could harness it, turn its dizzying mysteries against his enemies.

Weaver had a fractured plan at best with no way to put together the pieces. If only the linguist would march right into his cave.

…

Eri stood on her tiptoes, gazing over Riley’s shoulder at the broken branch. Her heart raced. Just when she was starting to feel comfortable, Riley had to pull the muck right from under her. “Is it one of the Lawless?”

Riley pulled a tuft of coarse black hair from a kink in the wood and felt it between his fingertips. “This hair belongs to no man.”

Striver took the tuft and put it up to his nose. “It’s boar hair, all right, but it’s too high up for a swamp boar.”

The broken branch was eye level with Striver, a good two heads taller than she was. “Maybe the boar jumped?” Her voice rose up in a high-pitched shriek as she imagined a monstrous hulk of that size.

Striver shook his head. “Boars don’t jump. They’re too heavy.”

Riley reached behind him and pulled out his bow with an arrow. “How old are these tracks?”

Striver crouched near the muck and poked his finger through the surface. When he pulled it up, water filled the hole. “An hour at most.”

“Good. If it’s an hour away, we should just keep going.” Eri’s hand hovered over her laser as she rocked back and forth on her heels in the water.

“It’s not that simple.” Striver put a finger up to the wind. “It’s going in the same direction we are.”

Riley scanned the bog. “Should we circle around?”

“No. It would take too long, and we’d have to navigate deeper waters.”

Eri nodded in agreement with Striver. She didn’t want to delay the rescue any longer, and the thought of deeper waters made fear creep up her throat.

“What are we going to do, ride its tail?” Riley looked at both of them like they were crazy.

Eri put her hands on her hips. “What’s the matter; you scared?”

“No.” Riley scanned the jungle around them as if a massive boar would show up right then and prove them wrong. “I’m not stupid, either.”

Striver shrugged. “The deeper waters may have leechers.”

Riley’s hand tightened on his bow. “Anything’s better than leechers. You’ve got me on that one.” His chest heaved. “Let’s go, straight into its tracks. At least we’ll have the advantage of surprise.”

Striver nodded toward Eri’s leg and brought out his own bow. “You may want to take out your laser. Just in case.”

Oh, that’s reassuring.
She tugged the laser out of the holster and input the code to unlock it. The proton chamber buzzed and warmed underneath her fingers. Lasers used to scare her, but now the tingling warmth comforted her. “Lead on.”

They walked until her feet felt like lead and her muscles ached. The swamp stretched on forever, an endless netherworld of mossy trees under hazy light. Her worry over the boar diminished with the monotony. To keep her mind occupied, she thought of all the questions she wanted to ask Striver, but Riley’s presence kept her from saying anything.

“Why’d they choose you for this exploratory mission, anyway?” Riley asked. He turned his head in her direction and assessed. “I mean, you don’t look like a warrior, or even a scientist.”

“What do I look like, then?” Eri could have reported him for prejudice on the
Heritage. You’re not on deck twenty-seven any more, though.

“I don’t know. Maybe a teacher?”

Striver slashed a path through a mossy overhang with his hand knife. “What
is
your job, Eri?” The genuine interest in his voice made her want to answer.

“I’m a linguist.”

Riley wrinkled his broad nose. “What’s that?”

Eri took a deep breath, knowing they’d probably think it was the most boring job in the whole universe. “I study all of Old Earth’s languages. I can speak and translate Latin, Greek, French, you name it. The commander thought my team would need an interpreter. She had no idea you’d be from Old Earth, and would speak English, no less.”

“English was the primary language on Outpost Omega.” Striver brushed back a long branch. “But all those other languages—I can’t imagine how much discipline it would take to learn them. That’s really impressive.”

“So you’re not even necessary?” Riley’s lips held a hint of a smile.

Eri looked at the muck caked on her boots. Riley had won this round. “Afraid not.” Her voice came out gloomier than she’d expected.

“Hey, I bet you’re more important than you think.” Striver gave her a meaningful glance. “Look at you now, going to rescue your team. You’re probably the most important colonist there is.”

“Only if we succeed.”

“
If
we succeed?” Striver shook his head. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I refuse to fail. We’ll get your team out of there. I promise.”

Before Eri could respond, the leaves rustled behind them and everyone froze. The stench of rot and mold wafted from the jungle. Eri covered her nose, holding back a gag.

“I thought you said it was in front of us,” Riley hissed under his breath.

“It was.” Striver brought up his bow and cocked an arrow. “It must have circled around to catch us off guard.”

“Nonsense. A boar’s brain is as big as a pearl berry.” Riley brought up his own bow.

“Not this one’s.” Striver gestured for Eri to join them in a line. She brought out her laser and aimed it in the direction of the smell.

A snort exploded from the undergrowth, followed by splashing. The ground pounded under her feet, and waves spread in concentric circles around her legs. Eri’s hands shook as she held up the laser.