Paradox (14 page)

This is it!

The second she launches over the side, though, she is jerked back to reality. Whatever her muscles used to be, whatever they are in her head, real life is a little different. The rope hugs her close and she has a strong grip on either side, but—
oh
, her shoulder is on fire. Her body pulses with pain as every bruise and injured muscle from her journey so far flares to life. Feeling fine while walking is apparently not the same as rappelling down a mountain face.

It takes all her effort to keep her breathing level and measured, to keep her hands sliding along the rope and her feet moving down the rock wall.

Still, the rush of the measured drop is glorious. It echoes the thrum of her heart, the pounding in her ears. It’s freefall, it’s the wind tossing her like a plaything, it’s stamp and push
and strain and release and flow. It’s freedom. It’s ninety seconds of pure adrenaline heaven.

And then she’s on the ledge, collapsing in a heap as Todd takes the call part of the anchor from her and wraps it in the end of the rope, sending the release charge traveling up to the other end. The whole thing comes tumbling down around them.

She shuts her eyes for a moment, replaying the experience in her mind, loving just being here. “This is what I am made of,” she whispers to herself. Whatever this is, it’s inside her, whether she’s aware of it or not.

This is me
.

After the mountain’s sheer drop-off from the summit, the rest of the descent seems tame by comparison. Mount Fahr rolls out its smoothest inclines and puts plenty of footholds in their path, as if they’ve passed some test and can now settle into the easy stuff. In less than two hours they are down the slope and crossing the last grassy stretch before they get to the dunes that link the mountains and the sea.

In a strange way it’s hard to move on, and Ana can’t help sneaking a look behind her, reveling in the sense of power and mastery she found on that rocky slope. Another part of herself reclaimed … in spite of the mountain’s nearly unbearable price.

She recoils from that train of thought. The only thing they
can do is keep going—three now instead of four, but still moving forward.

Ahead of them lie the rolling purple-blue sand dunes. Ana’s about to pull up her map to calculate the distance, but Todd has already activated his, lining it up against the horizon.

“There can’t be more than a couple hours to go once we hit the dunes,” he says, and she sees him frown at the circlet.

The plan is to chart a course directly across the sand at its shortest possible point, then head down the coast for a half mile or so to reach the end, the goal, the big red X on the map.

With renewed energy, they set off across the last sloping stretch of land toward the dunes. The ground is scrubby with undergrowth and dotted with rough boulders. Ysa walks hunched over, like she’s carrying a physical weight. She’s hardly spoken a word in the last hour. Every time Ana looks in her direction, Ysa starts to catch Ana’s eye, as if the other girl is wrestling with herself, trying to decide if there’s something she wants to say. But she never quite comes out with it, and Ana can’t bring herself to press her.

As they trudge on, Ana can’t stop thinking about the look on Chen’s face as he fought for his life on the ledge. Even taking into account the horror of the moment and all that came with it, there was something eerie, something significant about his struggle, which Ana can’t quite put her finger on.

Because the bottom line is that Chen didn’t
have
to die. He wasn’t killed by the fall, or the lava, or any kind of accident or twist of fate. At some point, paralyzed by his fear, lost in
whatever twisted vision held him, he
chose
that fate. He was so terrified … and then he wasn’t anymore.
It’s not giving up, just letting go
, he’d said. But why would he do that? What is she missing?

There’s the worm to think about, too. They haven’t seen slime nor scale of it since taking refuge in the caves. Ana can’t really believe it’s gone for good, though the more time passes, the more some part of her starts, tentatively, to hope.

“I wonder if there’s more than one of those worms,” Todd says, as if reading her mind.

“I don’t think so,” Ana says. “And honestly, something about it just doesn’t make sense. There’s no animal life on this planet. What does it eat? How does it survive?”

Todd shakes his head. “Maybe plants? Something in the soil?”

Behind them, Ysa scoffs. “Those rows of teeth weren’t made for eating plants,” she says.

Ana nods. “Exactly. Todd, you said there was evidence that kind of creature existed in prehistoric times. And yet now here it is, back from extinction or something.”

“Or something,” Todd mutters.

“Well, what’s it doing here now?” Ana says. “Plus it wasn’t visible on the planet scans. Those letters we found before we left the rocket. They asked us to keep our eyes peeled for things that are out of the ordinary. The worm is a pretty good candidate, don’t you think?”

“I’ll say,” Ysa hisses, and Ana is shocked at the bitterness in
her voice. “This whole trek pretty much fits the bill for ‘out of the ordinary,’ wouldn’t you say, Todd? Does that make it a success?”

“We just need to ride this out, Ysa,” Todd says levelly. “Don’t forget the countdown—there’s not much time left.”

Ana shivers. Not quite four hours … but that should be plenty, right? The suns are both high in the tangerine sky by now, so much closer together than the last time she looked. And the sand dunes are just ahead—one more gentle slope to go, and then they’re practically there.

“Yeah, because everything else on this trip has gone so smoothly.” Ysa snorts.

Ignoring her, Todd says, “The worm is out of the ordinary in more ways than one.” He circles wide to go around a boulder, then falls back in line next to Ana. “That time in front of the cave, after I fell … I don’t know. I looked up at that monster and suddenly it was like I didn’t even care that I was in danger. I should have been running for my life, but I couldn’t even move. Didn’t want to.”

“It’s like that every time the worm appears, isn’t it?” Ana says. “When it gets close enough or we look directly at it.” Ana thinks back to that moment when she knocked Todd aside—she, too, had been frozen in front of the worm, mesmerized by its blank, bottomless eyes and oddly sweet breath. She must have looked just like the others did when the worm first appeared at the base of the mountain—glazed eyes, mouth hanging open. Empty. Disconnected.

Something drops into place in Ana’s mind.

That trance-like stare, zoning out and being incapable of motion—that’s not just something that happens when the worm is around. That also describes exactly the way Todd nearly got trapped in the Dead Forest, and the way Chen lost his life in the lava pit. The only difference is that their mind screens weren’t blank or empty—they were experiencing some kind of hallucinations, horrible memories or nightmares or something.

“I don’t know,” Ana mutters. “There’s some connection with the worm, but I just can’t figure out what it is.” After all, the worm hadn’t been anywhere nearby in the Dead Forest, or on the summit of Mount Fahr. Still. There’s no way that could be a coincidence.
It’s like peace
, Chen said. That describes the worm’s lure exactly. What does it all mean?

“And here we are,” Ysa suddenly says. “Meet the purple sand dunes. Can you think of any worse terrain to cross?”

The landscape before them is, more than anything else, flat. It stretches out in every direction, sometimes rising gradually into low dunes, and looking for all the world like a dark sandy ocean. The sunslight paints the dunes a deep purple, like liquid twilight, a sharp contrast to the bright sky.

“A few things before we head out,” Todd says, grabbing Ana’s arm. “It’s not exactly quicksand, but …”

“Not exactly?” Ana freezes in place, gazing down at the oddly molten-looking surface. “What does
that
mean?”

“The sands here are unstable,” Todd says. “But it’s not
dangerous. The basin’s no farther down than a foot or two, at its deepest. But it’s the devil to get loose if you start sinking. So you’ve just got to keep your steps light. Like this.”

Todd takes a slow-motion step onto the surface, his foot settling onto the sand in a smooth arc. “Feet down flat, see?” he says. “First one, then the other, one clean movement. No pointed toes, no heels, and make sure your weight is centered. As smooth and even as you can. Keep it like this, and you might as well be walking on solid ground.”

His movements are something between a robot and a tightrope walker, achingly slow and symmetrical. Ana remembers the thrill of ownership she felt when tackling the mountain; this is obviously Todd’s element, as that was hers.

“Just watch out for sudden movements,” Ysa says from up ahead. For all her earlier distaste, she is navigating the terrain like a pro. “I hate sand on principle, but I’ve never had any trouble with this one.”

Ana struggles to keep her face neutral, hoping not to show how creeped out she is. Then again, her whole world seems to be made of quicksand today, wide and vast and unrecognizable, filled with lurking dangers just waiting to tug her under.

No. Not under; not here, anyway.

Truthfully, it doesn’t look too hard, and Ana would rather look idiotic than end up stuck in some kind of sand trap, shallow or not. Flinging her arms out wide, she puts her weight first on one leg, then the other. The sand under her feet is firm
but supple, like walking on a giant water balloon. It takes some concentration at first, but it isn’t long before she gets the hang of it, striding along in robot tightrope walker–fashion next to Todd, with Ysa leading the way between the dunes.

“The weird purple color comes from the volcanic rock, or maybe powdered lava,” Ysa says, slowing her pace to walk alongside Ana and Todd. “No one knows for sure. Some people think there are deposits of precious stones at the bottom that are ground up by the constant movement of the sand. They think that’s where it gets its bluish tinge.”