Page 149 of Starside

That theory all but dies when the horses stop.

And I hear voices.

Raker is pulling me up in an instant. “We need to go.” Still half-dazed from sleep, I stumble forward, grabbing my sword.

“Go where?” Heavy metallic steps sound just beyond the cave’s mouth. If we go out there, we’ll run right into them.

Raker isn’t going toward the mouth, though. He’s going in the opposite direction, deeper into the mountain.

It’s early morning. Only the faintest curl of light follows us as we run straight into the darkness.

The ceiling slopes down and loses its glimmer. Raker has to duck, maneuvering around mounds of sharp rocks dripping like teeth. I follow the slight shine of his armor. We run for several minutes without slowing.

The path is wide, but instead of moving forward, he suddenly takes a turn. He rushes toward a dark corner. I’m about to ask what the hell he’s doing when he says, “There’s a hole. Another level, below.”

Without warning, he’s gone. I blink—and can barely see the trace of a circle on the ground. A gap in the rock.

I stand very still.

The light from the mouth of the cave has been all but ripped away. The entrance has been wholly blocked.

Fear roots me in place. Because—because I can’t go down there. I know that.

The memory grips me.

Flames guttering into pure and utter darkness.

Screams melting into silence.

A starless night, like even the galaxy was closing its eyes, like even it didn’t want to see what had happened.

Only my sobs, because everything that I loved, everything that once burned so fiercely, all of that was burned, and it was all my fault.

I’m alone. In the dark. Screaming.

Alone forever.

A metallic step echoes from the other side of the cave. It won’t take them long to get here.

“Aris, you need to jump.” Raker.

His voice barely reaches me. How far is the drop? I blink, but I can’t see anything. Not anymore.

Just like that night.

Clutching ash. Trembling in it. Smeared with it. Gasping—

“Aris.”

“I’m scared,” I say, my voice quivering. My eyes burn as memories from that night blind me. As they echo through my mind just like those metallic steps through this cave, getting closer. Closer.

Then him again. “I know. I know, Aris,” he says, and his voice is devoid of its usual cruelty. He says my name almost like a caress.

“I’m afraid of the dark,” I gasp, and hearing it out loud … how pathetic it is …

“I know,” he repeats. “You told me.”

I did. Beneath the stars, I did, in the same breath that I told him that I could learn to love the night. But this isn’t night. It is a dark, cold place.