Neverwylde (The Rim of the World Book 3) (5 page)

            As he meandered through the narrow corridors, he kept his eyes peeled overhead. Like the maze leading to the gardens, the walls didn’t extend all the way to the vaulted ceiling, which rose hundreds of meters above them. More than once he debated whether he should try to get on top of the walls to try and get an overall view of the landscape, but he had to admit he didn’t have the energy.

            He could smell the heat coming from within his body. His footsteps left moist prints on the ground, and his handprints did the same on the walls he touched. Kyber knew he was sick, and prayed to the four gods it wasn’t from an infection.

            A scuffling noise broke through his prayers.

            He whirled around, a silent snarl lifting his lips to show the long canines. He raised his hands with claws extended and waited.

            A form drifted toward him—dark, out of focus, and foreboding. As it drew closer, a second shape joined it. Kyber could hear something but whatever it was, it sounded like gibberish. Growling, he raised his hands threateningly.

            Another noise alerted him something had snuck up behind him. He whirled around, uttering a deep-throated roar, when he was hit in the back with something that flared through his body with mind-numbing pain.

            He had no recollection of toppling to the ground, face first.

Chapter 7

Prisoner

            Isup stared at the unconscious Seneecian lying on the floor. Kyber’s face was scratched and bloody, his hands and feet securely bound. His waist was wrapped in a blood-stained cloth and he was barefoot. Perspiration soaked the former Por D’har’s fur to the point where moisture puddled beneath his body.

            Giving a snort, Isup walked back over to the fire, taking a seat beside it. Plat dropped another rock into the blaze.

            “Something has made him sick,” Isup noted, speaking in Seneecian.

            “Screw you both! Speak where I can understand!” Dayall angrily demanded.

            “He said Kyber is ill,” Plat repeated in Terranese.

            “Well, hell, anyone can see that just by looking at him.” The ex-commander sniffed. “And he stinks.”

            “It happens when we are sick,” Isup noted.

            “His smell tells us his blood is tainted,” Plat continued.

            “Is he dangerous to us?” Dayall asked.

            “We will have to wait until he awakens,” Plat answered. “If he poses a threat, we will kill him.”

            “Why not kill him now?”

            “He could prove more valuable to us alive. But if he dies…” Isup left the comment hanging.

            “What good is he to us?” Dayall insisted.

            “His life,” Plat told him. “Those who follow him will try to rescue him. We will use him to lure them away.”

            “We will gain information about them,” Isup added.

            A breathy groan came from their prisoner. Plat got to his feet and walked over, taking a stance at Kyber’s head. He watched the Seneecian open his eyes, blinking several times, but it didn’t appear that his former Por D’har was grasping his current situation.

            Kyber turned a dazed expression at him. “What…” An instant later, fury filled the man’s face. Kyber snarled and struggled against his bonds.

            Plat grinned down at him. “Your struggles are in vain.”

            Kyber paused. There was a moment of confusion on his face, then it disappeared as he struggled harder to be free. Droplets of sweat flew from his head as he whipped it from side to side.

            “Vile creatures!”

            Plat stepped back in surprise.

            “Hey, Plat?”

            Kyber snarled, showing his fangs. “I will kill you all!”

            “D’har?”

            Plat turned to Isup.

            “The fever has turned him,” Isup stated.

            Dayall made a rude sound.

            “Vile, despicable creatures!” Kyber roared and continued to fight against his binds. “You will not get the best of me!”

            Plat pointed at their prisoner. “That is not the Kyber Nau I know. I have served with this man too long not to recognize when a man is not in his right mind.”

            “I will kill you all!” Kyber screamed again. His voice broke. He tried to growl, but his throat refused to utter the sound. He coughed but he continued to snarl, his breathing becoming fast and raspy.

            “Is he going to die?” Dayall asked.

            Plat took another step back. “I do not know.”

            Isup got to his feet. “Will he infect us?”

            “I do not know.”

            “Then explain to me again why we don’t just go ahead and kill him?” Dayall demanded, also getting to his feet. “Why are we risking our own health by keeping him alive?”

            He turned and tried to wrest their only weapon from Isup, but the Seneecian managed to keep the gun from the man’s grasp. The two men glared at each other. Isup lifted a lip and growled softly.

            “Enough,” Plat stated.

            Isup dropped the snarl, but his eyes remained on the Terran. “We are still enemies,” he softly reminded Dayall. “As soon as we no longer need you to help us survive, we will kill you.”

            Dayall replied with an oily grin. “You’re assuming you’ll live long enough to do that.”

            “I said
enough!
”

            Isup walked over to stand beside Plat. “I do not think we can get any information from Kyber when he is in this condition. What if his delirium worsens?”

            “Let us hope it worsens.”

            Isup gave him a surprised look. “Why?”

            “Then he will no longer be just our enemy. He will be theirs as well.”

            “How are you going to accomplish that?” Dayall tried to put as much sarcasm into his voice as possible. “The moment you untie him, he’s going to attack us.”

            “He will not attack us if we are not around when he awakens.” Plat smirked. “When he sleeps again, we will take him where the others will find him. And when he comes to…” The Seneecian smiled.

            Isup finished the sentence for him. “When he comes to, he will be deeper into his fever and attack them. He will be our weapon against them.”

            “But what if he dies before all that happens?” Dayall persisted. “So much for your grand scheme of things.”

            Plat straightened. “If he dies, be it from the fever or because of the dangerous creatures that track us, then their tiny society will crumble. He has taken over as D’har. Without him, they will be leaderless. Weak. Vulnerable.” He looked down at the struggling man. “Isup, find out where the others are located. See if they are searching for him. Once Kyber goes to sleep, we will carry him to a location and untie him. Sooner or later, either they will find him, or he will find them. And they will have no option but to kill him if they are to survive.”

            Dayall made another disparaging sound. “I’m willing to bet they’ll truss him up and try to save him.”

            Plat shook his head. “How? There are no medicants available. Besides, Kyber is already too weak to resist. Had he not fought me, he might have been strong enough to vanquish whatever disease is eating at his brain. But it is too late for him. Look at him. He grows weaker by the minute. His mind has lost all sense of reality. His time is limited.”

            Isup showed obeisance and started to leave the tiny cave where they were gathered, when Plat held out a hand to stop him.

            “If you go by the gardens, bring us back more provisions.” Unhooking his water bag from his belt, he handed it the subordinate. “And more fresh water.”

            Dayall eyed Kyber. “Shouldn’t we at least give him some water?”

            “No.” Plat’s answer was flat and brooked no argument. “The fever is dehydrating him and will hasten the illness.”

            Isup bowed again and slipped out of the room.

            “Now what?” Dayall asked as Plat resumed his seat by the fire.

            “Now we wait for Kyber to go to sleep, and for Isup to return with news about where the others are searching.” Motioning at the Terran, he added, “Sit down and keep the fire alive. I am going to meditate and pray to our four gods that our plan is successful.” He glared at Dayall. “I strongly suggest you do the same to whatever deity you follow.”

            Saying no more, the former D’har turned his back on the Terran, faced the wall, and began to chant in a soft voice. After one more glance at the suffering Seneecian lying a few meters away, Dayall shrugged and laid down on his side, facing away from the two Seneecians.

            He quickly fell asleep.

Chapter 8

Council

            Kelen stared over Massapa’s shoulder at the coming twilight streaming through the giant windows. Gaveer, Jules, and Sandow emerged from the forest, with Cooter providing backup protection. All three men had their arms full of blue thumb fruit and pink curly things.

            Mellori glanced at the bounty they carried. “What? No apples?”

            “Not this time,” the physician answered in a near whisper.

            “There is more back there,” Gaveer told them. They kept their voices low, hoping to avoid attracting the creatures that lurked in the trees.

            “Did you get enough water?” Sandow cut in.

            Tojun pointed to the collection of water bags sitting nearby. “They are all full.”

            “Good. Then we’d better get our butts down below before that giant three-headed whatever discovers we’re here. We’re pushing our luck as it is. Fullgrath, you go first, then Kleesod, then Jules. Once you guys are on the other side, we’ll pile everything on the rock for transport. You can unload when it arrives, and we’ll follow afterwards.”

            Fullgrath prepared to stand atop the slab that would take him down to the machinery room, when he stopped and touched Kelen on the shoulder. She sniffed and tried to remain stoic.

            “He’s okay, Kel. I feel it in my gut.”

            His sincere murmur touched her. “I wish I was as certain as you are,” she admitted. When the man turned away, she swiped at the wetness on her face, determined not to break down in front of them.

            Dox walked up and slipped a hand through hers. The normally offish little man gave her a sympathetic look. “You tried. Bet you just kept missing each other.”

            She managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Dox. Yeah, we tried to find him, but he could be anywhere. There’s so much about this place we don’t know about. He could have gotten lost, or…” She trailed off. She was about to say he could have been overtaken by the eye worms and killed, but she steadfastly refused to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. Somehow, in her heart, she trusted she’d know if he was dead, and she wasn’t getting that vibe.

            Jules blinked out of sight, and she grabbed two water bags to place onto the elevator, as they were calling it now. Once everything got loaded, they stood back and waited.

            And waited.

            A good ten seconds went by when Mellori commented. “I wonder if it’s over the weight limit.”

            “Or it could be it only transports living people,” Sandow remarked.

            “If that is the case, how did it send Verin?” Tojun questioned.

            “It’s probably the weight,” Kelen replied and began removing the water bags.

            The physician nodded. “Either way, it’s probably best we each carry as much as we can. Kelen, are you ready?”

            She took one final look at the shadows crossing into the cavern, then stepped onto the slab. The world grayed, went white, and she found herself inside the machinery room.

            “What happened?” Jules helped her off the platform.

            “The thing wouldn’t work with everything piled up on it. We figured it was either because of too much weight, or that there had to be a person on it.”

            Mellori came next, and then Tojun. Once all of them were back, Sandow led them through the tunnel to the nonagon, where they stashed their provisions in one of the empty apartments.

            “All right, everyone. Let’s assemble. We need to discuss a few issues. Grab yourself a bite and we’ll gather in the center.”

            Taking a handful of the blue fruit, Kelen followed, taking a seat next to Kleesod. Dox sat down on her other side. Cooter and Fullgrath took a stance at two of the tunnel entrances, and Gaveer covered the corridor leading to the lake.

            Sandow sat cross-legged in their midst. “All right. We have some major issues to decide upon. Dox will remind me if there’s something I’ve forgotten or have wrong.”

            Kelen saw the man stare intently at her and she knew what his first order of business was about.

            “As of this moment, our top priority is finding Kyber. We don’t know where he is. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

            Kelen opened her mouth to argue, but Sandow held up a hand to stay her protest.

            “We cannot keep searching for him
as a whole,
” he emphasized. “This is my opinion, and you’re welcome to chime in with yours, but I want to make it clear I’m not advocating we abandon the search anytime soon. I’m suggesting we take shifts. Don’t forget, we have three dangerous men roaming around somewhere out there, too, and we need to keep up our guard.”

            “Do you think Kyber may have come across them, which is why we haven’t been able to find him ourselves?” Mellori questioned.

            “If he has, he is dead,” Tojun commented.

            Massapa and Gaveer agreed. “It would have been a fierce battle if Kyber was in full health,” Gaveer remarked. “But he was not recovered. In the end, I do not believe he would win.”

            Kelen pressed her lips together to keep from telling them they were wrong. To keep herself from shouting that Kyber was still alive. It was difficult and her chin trembled. Sandow saw her flushed face.