From Light to Dark (23 page)

“No,” Caer said. “This is another puzzle.”

“How do you know?” Vul had started wringing her hands.

“Look behind them,” Caer said. “There are carvings in the wall. It’s another message.”

Eref and Vul leaned closer, careful to avoid the vines. At first Eref couldn’t see anything there, but then, like on the metal sheet, words began to appear. But this time, they didn’t spell out anything that made sense.

Autmae mes 7304293401-512457821-2. Puzz 3 fr Exie’s fe-trafe dtis, mh 11868. Thse are ot ind ines
.

“That doesn’t spell anything,” Vul said. “How are we supposed to read it?”

“It’s just like the last set of instructions,” Caer said. “But there are some letters missing.”

Eref blinked. He tried to clear his mind, as the Exile had taught him to do. He could do this. “We need to write down what it’s supposed to say.”

“Write down? Where?” Vul opened her arms as if to show she wasn’t hiding a pad of paper in her dress.

“The ground’s too hard,” Caer said. “We’ll just have to remember the letters.”

“That will make it harder,” he said. “But I guess we have no other choice. Fine. Let’s look at it. What is the first part?”

“I think it’s supposed to say ‘Automated message,’ like the last set of instructions did,” Caer said.

Eref nodded. “Right. The next part probably means ‘Puzzle 3,’ don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Caer said. “Then I think it’s supposed to say ‘for Exile’s life-transfer duties, month….’ It’s all the same as the last set.”

“Fine,” Vul said, “but then there’s the last sentence. It wasn’t on the metal sheet.”

They examined the wall for several minutes. No one said a word.

Then Caer said, “I think it’s about the vines. The last word, ‘ines,’ is probably missing a v.”

“Bind vines!” Vul said. “It says they aren’t Bind Vines!”

Eref looked closer. She was right.
Thse are ot ind ines
had to be either
Those are not Bind Vines
or
These are not Bind Vines
.

“Then we just have one word to figure out,” Eref said.

“Those or These,” Caer said.

Vul let out a long breath. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Eref said. “Let’s see what it all adds up to.”

“What are we supposed to be doing, anyway?” Vul rubbed her head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“The answer should be spelled out in the missing letters, if I’m right,” Eref said.

Caer and Vul turned back to the wall and fell silent again.

Eref concentrated.

“I make the word ‘blue,’” Caer said.

“And there’s ‘green,’” Vul added. “Maybe it’s saying not to choose the blue or green ones.”

“Maybe,” said Eref. “But I can also make the word ‘red.’”

They stared at the clue longer.

“I can see the word ‘not’ twice,” Caer said finally.

“So,” Vul said. “‘Not blue, not green, red….’?”

“That’s good,” he said. “We’re getting somewhere.”

Caer tipped her head to one side in a look of confusion. “But how can we be sure it doesn’t say, ‘not red’?”

“Wait. It can’t say ‘Not blue, not green, red,” he said. “There aren’t enough r’s.”

“I’m not touching any of those vines if we’re not sure,” Vul said.

Eref examined the puzzle, never taking his eyes away. If he made it say
NOT BLUE NOT GREEN
, he was left with
D SA L LIS O O/E V
.

“Losing leaves!” Caer shouted suddenly.

Vul turned to her. “What?”

“I can make it say ‘losing leaves!’”

“How?” Vul leaned in closer and stared at the wall.

“Great!” Eref said. “That means we can’t use the word ‘green.’ Not enough e’s.”

“So, then,” Caer said, “this puzzle says, ‘Not red, not blue. Losing leaves’?”

Eref looked back at the words one more time. She had to be right.

“That’s it,” he said.

Vul fidgeted and twisted her hands.

“Then that means we choose this one,” Caer said, pointing at the middle vine. “Right?”

“Yes,” Eref said. “That’s what it says.”

Vul gulped loudly and took a few huge breaths.

“Let’s go.” Caer stepped toward the vines.

Eref followed.

“Wait,” Vul said, her voice shaking. “What if we’re wrong? What if it says, ‘Not losing leaves’?”

Caer glanced at Eref.

“I don’t think we are wrong,” he said.

“You don’t
think
we are?” Vul looked positively frantic. “We’re about to grab one of those vines and
hope
it doesn’t choke us to death?”

She had a good point. This was a risk. But they couldn’t stand here forever.

“Vul,” Caer said. “I’m sure we’re right. Come on.”

Her eyes wide, she stared at Caer. “You’re
sure
?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Here,” Caer said, reaching out to the vines. “I’ll touch it first.”

“No!” Vul shrieked.

Everyone stopped moving and waited for Vul.

“I mean,” Vul said. “Not you first, Caer.” She took a step forward, her eyes desperate. “Please.”

“Don’t be silly,” Caer said and turned back to the vine.

Something in Vul’s eyes resonated with Eref. What if their interpretation of the riddle was wrong? How could he let Caer be the one to find out?

“Stop,” he said, jumping in front of Caer.

She stumbled backward, and he stuck his hand out and grabbed the middle vine. “Eref, what—”

But she didn’t finish. His hand firmly grasped the stalk of the green vine with falling leaves.

His heart racing, he waited for something to happen. After a second or two, he turned back to Caer and Vul with a smile. “I think we got—”

The stalk moved in his hand.

Vul gasped. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Caer said. “Eref. Let go.”

But he couldn’t let go. His hand gripped the vine as if it were glued there.

He watched in horror as something started to creep up from the blackness below.

“Grab him!” Vul yelled. “Come on! We have to get him off!”

“I don’t understand,” Caer said. “We have to have the right vine.”

“Maybe we were wrong,” Vul cried, now tugging at Eref’s clothes.

“Something’s coming,” Eref said. He jerked his arm again, but there was no letting go. “I can see it moving down there.”

“No,” Caer said. “That can’t be. This is the vine. I’m certain.”

“Well, look at it! It’s taken him prisoner, and now it’s coming up to choke him!” Vul pulled harder at his tunic, but his hand couldn’t release.

“Maybe we’ve overlooked something,” Caer murmured.

“Caer! Help me!” Vul yanked so hard his tunic ripped and fell off his body.

“It’s getting closer,” Eref said, looking terrified into the tunnel. “The end of the vine. It’s moving quickly.”

“I’ve got it!” Caer exclaimed.

“Great! Now help me get him off!”

“Shut up,” Caer said.

“Excuse me?” Vul’s thin arms had now wrapped around his torso, pulling him backward and stretching the muscles in his shoulder.

“Everyone shut up now! Throat Vines can hear you. It’ll kill Eref if we make any noise. We made the right choice. We just have to be silent.”

“I don’t understand,” Vul said, still wrapped around Eref and tugging. “Throat Vines kill you on contact no matter what.”

“There’s a way to tame certain ones,” Caer whispered. “We chose the right vine, but you have to be quiet. Trust me. Don’t make a sound.”

Nobody spoke. Eref watched the vine snake its way toward him, its pointed end like the mouth of a snake searching for its prey. He held his breath.

Vul let go, trembling, and backed away.

Once it reached the top of the tunnel, the vine slid up the side of Eref’s body and neck. It touched his lips.

He wanted to cry out. With his free hand, he held the Moonstone in his pocket and prepared to toss it to Caer and Vul.

The vine pushed its way through his lips and touched his teeth. He clenched his jaw and breathed heavily through his nose.

No one made a sound, though Eref sensed the tension behind him from Caer and Vul looking on. He must have made too much noise already. It was too late.

At least he hadn’t let Caer touch the vine first. After he was dead, they would know how it worked, and they’d be able to make it out safely.

The vine slid across his teeth, his dry lips sticking to the green stalk.

He turned his eyes downward, where the vine brushed through his mouth as if it were examining him. Fear welled up in his chest, and the desire to shout almost overpowered him.

The pounding of his heart and the rapid sound of his breath had to be calling the Throat Vine to him. It would push through his teeth and force its way down his esophagus. He would have no way to breathe.

He had to remember to throw the Moonstone to Caer and Vul before he choked to death. Eref held on tight to the ring.

Suddenly, the vine pulled away. It just dropped out of his mouth as if it had lost interest and fell back downward through the tunnel. Eref’s hand unglued from the stalk, and he wiggled his fingers.

After an enormous sigh of relief, he turned back to Caer and Vul. Both of them wore terrified expressions. He waved them over.

Her arm around Vul, Caer led them both to the vine. Eref climbed down first, followed by Caer, then Vul.

No one even dared to cough along the way.

It was a long climb, sliding silently through a murky tunnel. Eref was careful not to bump the other Throat Vines nearby.

After he touched the ground, Eref stepped back and helped Caer and Vul down. They walked a few paces from the vines and stopped to catch their breath.

“That. Was. In. Sane,” Vul whispered.

Eref wiped his damp palms on his slacks. “You’re telling me.”

Down here, his pocket with the Moonstone in it felt much heavier than usual, as if the ring was trying to bore its way through the cloth. He reached down and patted it.

“What’s this?” Caer had already found something. At the end of the room stood a large, wooden door with nothing painted on it or carved into it at all. It looked very plain, except for a small golden handle.

A little whine came from Vul, who sounded emotionally exhausted. “I can’t take another puzzle. Seriously, guys.”

“What do you think it is?” Caer walked ahead and examined the plain wood.

“Maybe it’s just a door,” Eref said.

She turned back and smiled at him. “That would be nice. Let’s try it.”

“Come on,” Vul moaned. “Can’t we have a few minutes where we just sit still and be glad we’re not dead yet?”

“We’re almost done,” Eref said.

Vul stared back with a skeptical frown. “How do you know?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I can just feel it. The Moonstone’s doing something.”

Both girls looked straight at his pocket, their faces nervous.

“Does that mean—” Vul started.

“The Governors may be in the next room,” Caer whispered.

The ring quivered at the sound of the word “Governors.”

Eref nodded at Vul and Caer. They had to be very close now.

“I’m not ready for this,” Vul said. And then she turned to Caer. “Neither are you,” she said. “Not with your birthday coming, Caer. They’ll take you to that place, too—if they don’t just kill us outright. They’ll put that thing in your head. You can’t go through that. I can’t let you.” The crack of desperation in her voice was reminiscent of her delirious state in the jungle.

“Calm down, Vul,” she said. “You knew we were coming here. Don’t lose your nerve now.”

But Vul shook her head. “You don’t know,” she said. “That room, that horrible room. And those men….”

“That’s not going to happen,” Caer said. “All Eref has to do it protect the Moonstone for twenty minutes, and then there won’t be any Governors or Eighteener Entrance at all.”

Vul looked up at Eref with wide, sad eyes. Caer turned to him as well.

The ring felt heavier than ever.

He had no idea what lay beyond that door, but every instinct in him said it spelled doom. In the chaos of the puzzles, they’d almost managed to forget what was coming. But now, at the last stop….

Eref would walk in there to die.

And if he failed, they would all die.

The look on Vul’s face said she needed some reassurance they would be safe, but he couldn’t give it to her. Could he defeat the Governors and throw over Light and Dark worlds? Something told him it wouldn’t be easy.

He was through making promises he couldn’t keep.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, a lump forming in his throat. “I’ll protect the Moonstone. Just try to hold them off of me for twenty minutes if you can.”

Caer whimpered.

“Eref,” Vul said. “I—”

“You’ve been a great friend, Vul. Thank you for everything.” He extended his hand to shake hers, but she jumped up and hugged him instead.

“I hate this, Eref,” she cried. “You don’t deserve to go through this.”

“Neither do you guys.”

Caer stood just a couple of feet off to their side. She made a soft, pitiful sound. Vul let go, and Eref took a few steps in her direction.

“Caer,” he said.

Tears streamed down her white cheeks. She blinked, then fell into him and cried on his chest.

Her little arms hugged him as tightly as she could, as if she wanted to meld her body with his.

“Don’t do it,” she moaned into his skin. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.”

Eref stroked her head and held her fragile body. “I have to,” he said. “I’m doing it for you.”

“No,” she sobbed. “I don’t want you to. Please. Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me. Stay.”

With every word, she gripped him tighter and pressed her face more into his chest. Her tears slid down his torso like drops of rain.

“Caer,” he whispered. “I’ll never leave you.”

She shook her head and cried harder.

“Listen to me,” he said. “If I don’t do this, you’ll forget us all. They’ll capture you, and they’ll erase Vul and me from your memory forever.”

“They can’t,” she cried. “I wouldn’t forget either of you.”

“Balor forgot me,” he said.

Caer sniffed.

“But something tells me I won’t forget you when I become the Safety,” he said, putting his hand under her chin to bring her head up. Her broken heart was written all over her face. “You’ll live in the Safety with Vul,” he said, “and I’ll watch you all the time. It’ll be like we’re together every day.”