The Moon Dwellers

“Adele,” she says, her violet eyes radiating compassion. “Are you okay?”

I put my arm around her as we walk. What can I say to her? Actually, Elsey, I’m a complete wreck because a guy I have a massive crush on, a guy I’ve never met, a guy whose father abducted our parents, is dead, all because of me.

Instead, I say, “I’m okay now, Elsey, sorry to scare you like that.”

“I wasn’t scared,” she says. The matter-of-fact way in which she says it makes me believe her. Perhaps my sister is made of a tougher substance than I am. Or maybe she is just too young to understand the true horror of what has just happened, is just happy to have her big sister back.

“You’re very brave,” I say.

“What happened back there? Who was the guy that saved us? He knew your name, Adele.”

My face tightens and I try to get control of my emotions—take a deep breath. “It was no one,” I say.

“Tell me,” Elsey says. “I’m not a child anymore.”

There is so much truth in her eyes that I know she is right. Although she’d only been at the orphanage for six months, she’s changed, matured. Ten years might’ve passed in her mind. I can’t always protect her anymore.

I decide on the truth. “This might sound impossible…in fact, I’m not sure I believe it myself…I might’ve been seeing things…I was probably mistaken, but—”

“Adele, please, just tell me,” Elsey says, interrupting my ramblings.

I take another deep breath. Why is this so hard? Just say it. Say it. Say it! “I think it was Tristan Nailin,” I blurt out, feeling dread wash over me, as if by speaking his name I have cemented his fate.

I expect Elsey to giggle, to look at me with knowing eyes, to say Sure it was, Adele, I believe you, using the sarcasm that I taught her. She surprises me by saying, “I thought so.”

“You what?” I say, unable to hide my surprise.

“He looked like Tristan,” she says with a slight nod of her head. “I mean, not as good looking as in the magazines, but…”

“I thought he looked even better,” I say defensively.

Elsey eyes me curiously. “Since when did you think Tristan was handsome?” she says, sounding more grown up than ever.

“Since, since…oh, I don’t know.”

Elsey smirks at me. “You can tell me the whole story later.”

It dawns on me. Why was Elsey so easily convinced that it was Tristan? She doesn’t seem to find it strange at all that he appeared out of nowhere in a remote part of the Moon Realm. “Elsey….why’d you think it was Tristan? Was it just because he looked like him?”

Now she giggles, finally sounding her own age. “Because of the news, of course.”

My heart flutters and I know she is about to tell me something important, so I stop and call to Cole and Tawni, who come jogging back, their eyebrows V’d in concern. “What’s wrong?” Cole says.

I motion to Elsey to speak. “Tell them what you were about to tell me,” I instruct.

Elsey’s eyes widen. “You mean, you don’t know?” she says incredulously.

“We’ve been kind of…busy,” I say.

“Right,” she says, changing her tone to that of a lecturer. “Well, all the kids gathered in the big room to watch the telebox this morning, like we always do. This kid we call Wiz suggested we watch the news, like he always does. He always gets voted down and we watch something else, but this morning he put it on before anyone could say anything. You guys were all on the screen.” She waves her hand across us.

“We saw that,” I say, hoping that isn’t her big news.

She changes course, her voice softening as she says, “I just knew you would come for me, Adele.” Finally, she fully sounds like a little girl again, the little sister I remember, before life’s challenges forced her to grow up before anyone should have to.

I put an arm around her. “I’ll always come for you. Now, what else did you hear on the news?”

Elsey’s eyes light up. “That Tristan ran away from home!” she exclaims.

“What? He…ran away?” I look at Tawni and Cole, who are staring at me.

“Yep. And apparently he was headed for the Moon Realm, subchapter six I think they said.”

“That’s only a single train ride from here,” I say, finally co

“He was coming to find you,” Tawni says.

Cole shakes his head. “C’mon, seriously. These strange feelings and all that rubbish again, really? Coincidence I reckon. If he really was trying to get away for a while, he probably just picked a place where no one would think to look for him.”

Elsey touches my arm. “Why would Tristan have been coming to find you?” she asks.

I tell her everything. Cole stalks off and pretends not to listen, but Tawni stays by me, even holds my hand for part of it.

Elsey is ecstatic when I finish. “He did come for you,” she says positively. Under her breath, she says, “No matter what that other guy says.”

It is then that I realize we haven’t had time for introductions. “Elsey,” I say. “This is Tawni. My friend,” I add.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Elsey,” Tawni says. “Adele’s told us so many nice things about you.”

At that, Elsey beams.

“Cole,” I say, a bit louder to get his attention, “come meet Elsey.”

He saunters over, his dark skin glowing a strange orange color under the illumination of the flashlights. “Hi, Elsey,” he says. “I’m Cole.”

My sis sticks out her hand and shakes Cole’s big paw. “Tristan was looking for my sister,” she says definitively.

“Oh, great. Now it’s three against one,” Cole says, gri

We walk for hours. Time seems to stand still inside the caverns. Cole and Tawni give up on trying to remember which route we’ve taken. I think they realize that we aren’t going to be going out the way we came in anyway.

The caverns are ominous and scary, and yet beautiful at the same time. Around every bend is another stalactite or stalagmite, some impossibly big, some carved by nature into complex patterns, more intricate than a master carver could ever hope to emulate on a museum statue. We pass under giant stone archways, and cross natural rock bridges, some so thin that we have to crawl across on our stomachs, trying not to look down at the never-ending drops into darkness on either side.

Much of the time we are able to walk upright, the jagged ceiling rising well above us. But at other times we are forced to stoop, or even crawl.

I am beat, so I know Elsey must be tired, too. At first she keeps up a constant chatter, talking about anything and everything. She talks about her time in the orphanage, asks a million questions about the Pen, and tries to get us all to agree that we are on a fantastic adventure. Eventually, she ceases talking completely, though, so I know she is getting tired. We need to stop, but none of us seems to want to make the call. I think we all feel that every additional footstep gives us a greater chance of survival.

Cole, who is leading, finally stops and sits on a flat stone rock that looks like someone has put there as a bench. He says, “I think we’ve gone far enough. It must be the middle of the night. Even Rivet will have to stop for sleep.”

We are all too tired to disagree. Or even to eat. Instead, we go straight to bed, four ducks in a row, pressed up close to each other for warmth. Cole and then Tawni and then Elsey and then me.

“He’s not dead, you know,” Elsey whispers.

“Who?” I say, although I know the answer.

“Tristan.”

“Oh.”

“If you’re really meant to be together, then he couldn’t have died. He might be captured, tortured even, but somehow he’ll find you.” I can’t tell if her words are wise beyond her years, or simply the vivid imagination of an i