“Indeed,” Ambrose agreed, scratching Fern on the bony plate between her eyes. “Fear has no brains, young Karune. The dismal witness that it bears and the cowardly counsel that it whispers to us are always unrelated.”

  Karune frowned. “I do not understand your words.”

  “Neither do I,” Flik agreed.

  Ambrose’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Even here, I must suffer the barbs of critics.”

  I tottered to my feet and nodded at Karune. “Can you show me this spot?”

  “Aaron,” Karenk said gently, “you should let me go instead. You need to rest.”

  “No,” I insisted. “I need Kasheena and the rest of our people. I’m fine. Karune and I will scout ahead, and have a look. Then we’ll come back here and make plans.”

  I stowed my gear with the group, taking along only my weapons. Then I followed Karune through the ravine. I struggled at times to keep up with her. As we neared the city, she slowed down, creeping forward. I glimpsed the spires ahead of us, jutting up from the valley. We emerged onto a broad, flat ledge overlooking the city from a height of about twenty feet. There was a gentle slope beneath it, and it would have been easy enough for us to ascend into the city proper, but the slope terminated at an empty expanse, and we would have had to cross one hundred yards of open terrain, with no cover or concealment. Short of marching in with an army, there was no way we could sneak into the city from this point. We hunkered down behind a jumble of boulders and I gazed around the rest of the valley. I spotted a dirt road to the west, between two large hills. Presumably the road led out onto the plain. The rest of the city was bordered on all sides by cliffs and hillsides, rendering it inaccessible except by air.

  “Not good,” I whispered. “The only way in is via that road or this slope beneath us.”

  Karune nodded. “Both seem foolish, given our meager numbers.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “If we choose either, we’re only going to get captured or killed.”

  “If we got captured, then perhaps they would put us with the other prisoners.”

  “Probably, but there’s not much good we’d do them if we were captured, too, Karune.”

  “At least we would all be together.”

  “I know you’re worried about your sister and your child, but I want a better reunion for you than captivity, Karune.”

  I watched as the Anunnaki went about their various tasks. I didn’t get the sense that there was any sort of caste system or different classes among them. They were more akin to a hive of bees—drone workers going about their labors, and doing so with a single-minded purpose. Some of them carried weapons. Others carried tools, or went about empty-handed. All of them were dressed. Many wore the tanned hides of humans and animals. Others wore clothing fashioned from fibers and cloth. What disturbed me most was the silence. They made no sound as they moved throughout the city. Occasionally, various individuals or groups would stop and stare at each other, communicating telepathically, but there were no verbal cues or spoken words. One thing I noticed is how all of them avoided the giant pit in the middle of the courtyard. I got the sense that they did so out of some sort of reverence, rather than fear or apprehension.

  I changed position, moving to another part of the ledge so that I could better view the mud huts. Karune turned her attention to these, as well. We watched for a long time, and saw no movement other than a changing of the guard. Then, just as I was about to tell Karune we should head back and rejoin the others, another snake-man arrived, carrying a wicker basket. He nodded at the guards and went into one of the huts. After a moment, I heard a voice, carrying to me on the wind, easily audible in that oppressive silence. Karune gripped my shoulder, indicating she heard it—and recognized it—as well. Her fingertips brushed against my cuts, but I barely noticed, so intently was I focused on that voice.

  It was the voice of Kasheena, and she was pissed off.

  “You bring us water and food, but you won’t untie us to eat it? Away with you!”

  A pause.

  “I said, go away. I will not be force fed by the likes of—”

  Kasheena’s protest faded, whether because the wind had shifted, or because her captors had somehow silenced her, I didn’t know. My entire body thrummed with rage. I forgot about my injuries and my pain. Gone was my exhaustion. I didn’t think about the rest of the rescue party, waiting for us further back up the ravine. I barely acknowledged Karune, even as her grip grew tighter. My vision narrowed, and my heart pounded. I began to hyperventilate. My arms and legs tingled as if asleep. Brandishing the laser pistol, I stood up, preparing to charge in. Karune grappled with me, trying to pull me back down. I swatted her away, growling.

  “Kasheena is down there!”

  Karune scurried backward, eyes wide with panic. Then, as I turned away from her and back toward the city, she punched me in the testicles. The effect was instantaneous. My breath whooshed out of me and my knees buckled. I fell to the ground, cracking my elbow on the stone. My hand went numb and the laser pistol skidded from my grasp. I tried to yell at her, but could only manage a wheeze. Ropes of saliva dripped from my lips. Curling my legs up to my chest, I lay there squirming, cradling my testicles. The pain set in, starting in my groin, spreading to my stomach, and then radiating throughout my entire body.

  “I am sorry, Aaron.”

  I could barely hear Karune over the pounding in my head.

  “I know you want to save Kasheena,” she continued, “but this is not the way. You have said so yourself. We all have people among those prisoners. My sister and my child—my only child—are down there. I will not see them jeopardized because you rushed in.”

  I croaked a response and tried not to throw up.

  “I respect you, Aaron. I remember when Kasheena first brought you to us. You were strange—as strange as this new man, Bierce, who now travels with us. You were an outsider, but in time, you became one of us. Your respect earned everyone’s respect. You are a leader now. I would follow you anywhere, and I am not the only one. But I will not follow you on a fool’s errand—not when the lives of my loved ones hang in the balance. Now, collect yourself, and let us craft a better plan.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. Karune knelt down next to me, staring at me intently.

  “You will not hit me?”

  I shook my head and whispered, “No. You’re right.”

  She held out her hand. I clasped it and let her pull me to my feet. Then I crouched for a bit, hands on my knees, and waited for the pain to subside. When I’d caught my breath, I stood up, and nodded at her again.

  “Thanks, Karune. You are absolutely right. I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me.”

  “And you are not angry with me?”

  “No. You did what you had to do. And besides, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me on this trip. The pterodactyl was tougher.”

  Grinning, she clapped my shoulder and squeezed. The pain was so intense that my vision blurred. Rather than reminding her that I’d recently been injured, I simply returned the gesture and apologized again. Then we snuck out of the area and made the return trip back through the ravine to rejoin our friends. Karenk was guarding one end of the camp and Marta guarded the other. Everyone else was resting. They stirred when we arrived, looking at us eagerly.

  “Well?” Tolia stood, hands on hips.

  I shrugged. “Our people are there. The Anunnaki have them imprisoned in a series of mud huts on the outskirts of the city.”

  “You know this for sure?” Trut asked.

  “Yes. We heard Kasheena.”

  “We did,” Karune confirmed. “And judging by what she said, at least some of the others are alive, as well.”

  A chorus of relieved sighs and gasps greeted this.

  “What do we do?” Shlak asked. “How do we free them?”

  Kneeling, I drew my combat knife and motioned at them all to gather around me. When they had, I began using the tip of my blade to sketch out the city’s outline in the dirt. “There are two ways in—this ravine and a dirt road. If we use either of them, we’d have to cross an awful lot of open space before we reached the huts. There’s no cover, nothing to hide behind. If just one of the enemy spots us, we’ll be cut down or caught before we ever reach the prisoners.”

  Trut squinted with his one eye. “What about from above?”

  “Not unless we had wings,” Karune answered.

  “So, it is hopeless,” Flik sighed. “All this way for nothing.”

  “Not for nothing,” Marta said. “Our loved ones are near. We will find a way.”

  “I will cause a distraction,” Karenk said. “The rest of you will wait at the mouth of the ravine. I will approach the city from the road. While I battle the snake men, the rest of you can sneak in and free our people.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Ambrose argued.

  Karenk smirked. “You have never seen me fight, old one. I can slay dozens before they kill me. Their numbers shall crash upon me like water on a stone.”

  “If I can gain high ground,” Tolia said, “I can assist Karenk with my bow.”

  They all began to talk at once, arguing with each other. Disturbed by the commotion, Fern whinnied nervously, and pushed tight against Ambrose. I waved for silence, and when I had everyone’s attention, the baby dinosaur relaxed.

  “I can’t let you do that, Karenk, but you are on the right track.”

  He frowned. “Track?”

  “Yes. What we need is a diversion. A distraction.”

  “What we need,” Shlak muttered, “is an army.”

  Tolia cocked her head. “What do you suggest, Aaron?”

  “Well, that depends. Did any of you happen to bring rope along when we left the village?”

  “Aye,” Trut said. “I have coils of rope in my pack.”

  “How much?”

  He shrugged. “Enough to reach the top of yonder cliff, if we had to.”

  “Good,” I replied. “Then I know where we can get a distraction … and an army. Like Karune said, we need wings.”

  And then I told them what I had in mind. They were incredulous at first, but in the end, I was able to convince them. As far as plans go, it wasn’t a good one. Indeed, looking back on it now, the whole thing seems so stupid. Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly. After all, I was exhausted and still recovering from my injuries—but it was the only other option I could come up with that didn’t involve Karenk or another member of our party sacrificing themselves on the slight possibility that it might distract the Anunnaki long enough for us to free the prisoners. At least I was smart enough not to attempt it by myself. I was well aware of just how much punishment my body had undertaken on this journey, and how close to my limits I had come. Ultimately, I chose Flik for his youthful agility, and Karenk for his brute strength. For what I had planned, I would need them both.

  As everyone began to prepare for their roles, Ambrose pulled me aside. I gave him Colonel McKinnon’s journal for safekeeping. I had already given the first aid kit and my blanket-sling to Tolia. Ambrose accepted the journal and promised to take good care of it. Then he fell silent. His expression was troubled.

  “You don’t have to go through with this, you know?” I stared into his eyes. “You don’t owe us anything. You and Fern can still get out of it. No hard feelings.”

  “The only hard feelings I am experiencing are anger and regret with myself.”

  “How so?”

  “I should be making that climb with you.”

  I paused, wanting to choose my words carefully so I wouldn’t offend him. “Ambrose, while I appreciate the gesture, I don’t think—”

  “Spare me the platitudes, Aaron.” He held up his hand. “You’re squirming like a worm on a fishhook. I know I am too old to accompany you. That is what I am angry about. Although, truth be told, I am not sure how much assistance I will be here on the ground, either.”

  “You’re a soldier,” I reminded him. “An officer. If you choose to stay and fight, then my people are going to need your guidance.”

  He glanced back at the tribe. “They’re all better warriors than I ever was. Especially that woman, Tolia. Were I thirty years younger …”

  “So, does that mean you’re staying?”

  “I never thought to do otherwise. I always said that friendship was a ship big enough for two in fair weather, but only one in foul. You and your people have taught me otherwise. For that, I am grateful.”

  Grinning, I shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Bierce.”

  “Thank you, Aaron. It has been a pleasure making your short acquaintance. I hope that we have more time.”

  “Yeah.” I let go of his hand and shrugged.

  His bushy eyebrows furrowed. “You do not believe that we will, do you?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I suspect this is going to go terribly awry … but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I have always endeavored to see things as they are, rather than as they ought to be. In this case, I think we all see how things are. Your options are extremely limited, and yet you are attempting, rather than giving in to despair. Sometimes, that is all you can do, Aaron.”

  I nodded.

  “Well …” He dusted off his sleeves and shook my hand again. “Goodbye, Aaron Pace. It is my sincere hope that we meet again when this is all over with. If not, then as I said, it has been my distinct pleasure. I wish you luck. I will do what I can down here. If these snake men stand me up against that canyon wall and cut me to ribbons, please know that I think that is a pretty good way to depart this life. It certainly beats dying of old age, or disease, or falling down the cellar stairs back home. If I had my way, I would rather fall down yonder cliff. You be careful during your ascent.”

  “It’s not the climb I’m worried about,” I replied. “It’s when we come back down. I just hope it works.”

  “And I as well.”

  “Take care, Ambrose.”

  I wrapped Trut’s rope up in the reflective blanket and made sure my laser pistol and knife were secure. When we had all finished our preparations, Karune led Tolia, Shlak, Trut, Marta, and Ambrose along the ravine, going in the direction they had originally come. Fern trotted along behind them, grunting softly. We had given Ambrose all of the rest of our rations, hoping steady and measured feeding would keep the baby triceratops quiet long enough for my plan to work—or fail. Karune was to lead them to the road we had spotted earlier and find a place to conceal themselves until we returned with the distraction. We watched them go. Then Karenk, Flik, and I began to climb back up the mountain, heading for the tunnel.

  Chapter 11

  The Kidnapping

  I don’t know why, but the ascent seemed easier to me than my descent had been. We made much better time, as well. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to appear weak or unsteady in front of Flik and Karenk. Perhaps it was because I was concerned that Fern would give the location of the others away, and that they would be captured or killed before we could do our part. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had heard Kasheena’s voice and knew for certain that she was alive. Whatever the case, I spurred myself on—winded and tired and in constant pain, but determined nevertheless. Finding the way was easy. I just followed the same trail I’d used before, and tried not to fall off the cliffs or slide down the mountainside.

  When we reached the rocky ledge overlooking the city and gained access to the tunnel opening, I called for a brief rest. Both Karenk and Flik milled about nervously, glancing into the darkness. They whispered to each other, recoiling from the tunnel as if it were a serpent poised to strike. It occurred to me that neither of them were used to such a thing. Both men had been born here in the Lost Level and had lived here all their lives, and as a result, they had never known the true, all-encompassing absence of sunlight.

  “Stick close to me,” I advised. “You will be unable to see, and the floor is uneven, so be careful where you step.”

  Flik stared into the darkness. His entire body was tense. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.

  “Flik,” I said gently. “You going to be okay?”

  “Can it …” He licked his lips nervously. “Can it hurt us?”

  “The darkness? No. It can’t hurt us.”

  “But, what is it?”

  “It’s just the opposite of light, Flik. It can’t hurt you, but it can leave you disoriented. Like I said, when we get in there, just go slow and watch where you step. The tunnel does weird things with sounds. You might hear your own breathing echoing back to you, and think it’s something else, but I’ve been through here already, and there’s nothing else alive in there. It’s safe. Okay?”

  Taking a deep breath, Flik nodded. I turned to Karenk, noticing then that this mountain of a man was trembling.

  “Karenk? Understood?”

  He turned to me, and I saw that all the color had drained from his face.

  “I understand, Aaron,” he whispered, “but I am more frightened right now than at any time in my life.”

  “I know you are.” I smiled, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay, Karenk. I promise, there is nothing inside this tunnel that can hurt you. Just stay with me, and I’ll get us through to the other side.”

  “As you wish, Aaron. Have I … have I ever told you just how much I admire you?”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay, buddy.”

  “No, it is not. When you first came to us, I wished to be with Kasheena. I saw you as a competitor. Do you remember?”

  “I do. But that’s all in the past, Karenk.”

  “Aye. Perhaps it is. But my respect for you is here, in the present. Do you understand?”

  Swallowing, I nodded. “I feel the same way, my friend.”

  I stood slowly and shook his hand, then walked inside the tunnel. Karenk and Flik shuffled along behind me. The shadows deepened. The air grew cooler. Soon, the darkness engulfed us. Both of them gasped, faltering.

  “Stow your weapons,” I said, “and hold hands.”

  Whimpering, they did as I’d said, and we proceeded forward in a human chain. Flik was in the middle, for which I was glad. He squeezed my hand tight enough to be painful. I could only imagine how excruciating Karenk’s grip would have been. I led them deeper into the tunnel, listening to their panicked breathing, and tried to project confidence and assurance. They shuffled unsteadily, tripping a few times. I won’t recount our entire journey through the underground chamber, because it would be repetitive and because I’m running out of space in this accounting ledger. Suffice to say, much like the trip back up the mountainside, we seemed to make much better time than I had on my initial trip—even with Flik and Karenk’s hesitation. I only hoped that our return through this passage would be even quicker.