4..........

Pima scrambled forward a step and sank to her knees. Her forehead cracked against the floor. She grunted - the pain was there, but it was muted compared to everything else - and turned her head to the side.

Another door appeared on the other side of the stairway. She watched, helpless to turn away, as it opened of its own accord.

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“Avir!” Neeman’s voice landed like a whip crack - the loudest sound they’d heard in hours - and the young man jumped back. Everyone else stopped like they were frozen to the spot, Pima included.

She halted immediately, and then questioned herself why.

When had Neeman gained that power over her? But as her gaze shifted from scanning the horizon to him, she was impressed by his calm features, his proud profile. A born leader, as she was not. She dropped her eyes quickly as he turned to her.

“Do you feel that?”

“What? What is it?” Avir asked, fear lacing his words.

Neeman closed his eyes, and Pima did the same, trying to calm her mind.

“There.”

Pima’s eyes flew open, and she gripped the key that hung around her neck. Neeman nodded at the unasked question. His hand crept up to cup the key that hung around his own neck.

Pima slipped the key from around her neck and offered it to her brother. Akish was standing beside her, lips pressed into a thin, white line to keep from asking his usual thousand questions. He took the key from her, but instead of slipping the string around his neck, he thrust it into his pocket. Pima started to protest, but Neeman stepped forward to address everyone.

“We’ve reached some type of border. From here on out, things are going to get weird. We’re going to have to be fast and stealthy. We’ve been traipsing through the marsh all day. I know you’re all tired, but we cannot become complacent. We don’t know how the Tower will project its guardian.

“Keep an eye on your neighbors. Don’t believe what you see until it’s behind you. And keep your wits about you. Akish, Pima, stay with me. The rest of you spread out. Make a line.”

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Pima found herself sandwiched between Neeman and her brother. She didn’t mind too much. She wanted to keep an eye on them and the keys. But if something attacked them and they had to fight, she hoped they’d give her space and not try to corral her and push her behind them.

Pima was used to “swampland,” as what constituted as such in Pavta. But this area was decidedly different. The further they walked, the harder it became to find solid footing. She was glad for the extra layer of thin metal she wore in the bottom of her boots, protection against the acid that might be mixed into the water and mud here, this close to the baleful spire that towered over this land, and found herself thanking over and over the person who had made them.

Every few seconds, she felt a throbbing in her chest, like sparks from a fire kept landing on her lungs. That’s what she’d felt earlier when she was wearing the key. Could it be the same feeling?

She shuddered at the thought of being connected to the Tower in any way. Then her mind took a darker turn.

Did the Tower know they were coming? And why? Was it truly sentient? How could someone have created such a thing? But perhaps the most demanding question was: What was this guardian that Neeman kept warning them about?

It was the piece of the plan that troubled everyone the most. And for good reason. The Tower was an enemy that hid many secrets. Their goal was to get Akish to the Tower door; he would take the rest from there. But even that wasn’t a secured victory.

They kept trudging on through the muck and mire, careful to keep to solid ground and avoided touching the stagnant water with any part of their skin.

Every so often, someone would cry out, and the company would come to a standstill, no one even daring to ask what had alerted their friend. Twenty heartbeats sounded loud in the silence that echoed across the marshland. Shadows were all they saw. They encountered no physical threats, real or otherwise. Although Pima shouldn’t have expected to meet any threat from man or animal. Nothing could thrive in this no-man’s-land.

Signs of increased pollution were everywhere, and Pima, who had thought she would never be surprised by the diseased nature that she had grown up witnessing, mourned for this place which once might have been beautiful but through no fault of its own was filled with such poison.

She kept up a constant stream of questions in her mind, making sure that her mind was still free. What day is it? What is my mother’s name? What am I doing here? What does poison oak look like? What emotion is on Akish’s face?

She knew the others were doing the same. They must keep their minds alert. She slid between the past and present, but she kept her thoughts steadfastly away from questions that involved the future.

Pima wasn’t sure how he could tell through the fog that clung low to the ground and hid the sky from view, but Neeman called a halt when he said the sun began its descent. Akish, too, kept glancing at the sky, and Pima wondered if it was more of a sense than a knowing when, all at once, a deep gloom descended on the group halfway through setting up camp. If they hadn’t set up the tripods that held the small fires out of the water, she might have thought that she’d gone blind.

They each set up the bed stands and sleeping bags they’d carried on their backs. In the morning, they would leave their beds and most of their supplies here so they could continue on less hindered. If their minds didn’t play tricks on them, sending them in circles, and they were able to keep their bearings straight, they wouldn’t need to spend another night out on the marsh on the way to their destination. Those who would survive to the next night had to hope they were lucky enough to find this camp again.

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Chapters 5-6 coming soon..........