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But all I say is, “Damn it, Malix,” and wander into the dark.
??
I quickly realize this was more than just a pee break. Malix’s footprints in the sand lead through the atrium, taking a meandering path that seems to investigate numerous walls and pillars before heading toward the back wall of the ruins. A hallway opens up under a decorative arch here, a weird combination of Lyran and Skoropi architecture. I raise the bulb to examine it and find a mix of words, some of which look oddly like Sanskrit.
And there are vines here, crawling along the letters. I can’t read a damn one of them, and it’s giving me major Alien vs. Predator vibes.
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” I mutter to myself.
Fucking Malix. I’m going to slap the shit out of him when I find him.
I walk under the arch, holding the bulb ahead of me like it’ll ward off any of the ancient aliens I’m now certain are hanging out in this crumbling mess. There are no sounds except my own footsteps, and Taraven is far behind me now. I pass a few rooms, ducking my head inside and finding them small and empty.
I’ve only been walking for about twenty minutes when I hear footsteps scuffing on the ground up ahead, and see a gloomy light shining from somewhere beyond an open door. I duck around it, holding out my algae bulb with one hand and my crossbow with the other.
And there he is.
Malix stands in the light of a nearly-extinguished bulb, his hands at his side, his head cocked as he stares at the wall to our left. I can’t make out what he’s looking at for a second, his bulb flickering and discarded. The Lyra have better night vision than we do, so he must see something I don’t.
It spooks the hell out of me.
“Damn it, Malix,” I sigh. “Where the hell were you?”
He doesn’t say anything.
Okay, he’s definitely possessed—right? I hold up my crossbow, even though I don’t have any intention of using it on him. “Malix? Talk to me before I freak out. You’re scaring me.”
He frowns, jerking his head and blinking rapidly. Then he turns to me, his black eyes startling in the darkness.
“I’m…where are we?”
“Are you serious?”
Why am I even asking?I’ve never known him to kid.
“Where is Taraven?” Malix asks, his voice getting heated.
I drop my weapon to my side, gaping at him. “You…really? Malix, you walked away from camp. We’re in the ruins right now; you must have been at least a little self-aware, since you brought a damn flashlight. What were you looking at?”
“What is aflaa-shly—”
“Algae bulb,” I cut him off. “You brought an algae bulb. It’s right behind you.”
He turns and stares down at it in confusion, then bends to pick it up. He’s a few feet away from me, so it sets the room in a whole new light when he shakes it a couple times to stir it up again.
I realize the walls arecoveredin inscriptions.
Not just words, either—there are illustrations here, etched scenes of humanoid figures and objects. I move closer, holding up my own bulb to light up the ruins in awe.
“Whoa,” I say. “Were you…were you reading it?”
He shakes his head like he’s still trying to escape the fog of sleep. “I was…dreaming, I think,” he says. “I dreamt that I was on Jaya and that pink flowers were blooming on the walls. I followed them here, and this…this is what I found, I suppose.”
The hair on my arms stands on end. There’s an energy here—like electricity, magnetic and irresistible. I pick up my hand and reach toward the wall, sensations flickering along my fingertips.
I don’t touch it.
Something tells me I shouldn’t.
