The Moon Dwellers

We reach the end of the pool, where the water tumbles over the edge. My heart stops and I gasp. Spectacular! is the word that comes to mind when I see the view. We are on the edge of a cliff, looking out upon a moon dweller city. Like most man-made moon dweller cities, thick stone beams rise high above the buildings, from floor to roof, protecting against major cave-ins.

Around the edge of the cliff, numerous waterfalls pour out into a massive reservoir that runs along the edge of the cavern. Each waterfall is different, but equally magnificent. Some are thin, high streams, skimming the edge of the cliff and cascading down in an unpredictable liquid spray, while others are thick, powerful falls, exploding in a thunderous display of power and beauty. And there is everything in between, too.

Our particular waterfall is of average height compared to the others, but still rises at least fifty feet in the air. By peering over the edge we can see that we’re on a rock overhang, which allows the water to pour into the reservoir unobstructed. Although I’m not really afraid of heights, I pull back from the edge, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Damn,” Cole says. “The good news: we’ve made it to the sixteenth subchapter, also known as Waterfall Cave. The bad news: there’s no way down.”

“Except to jump,” I say.

“If you’re crazy.”

I’m not any more keen to launch myself down a waterfall than Cole is, but it does make sense, in a twisted logic sort of way. “We’ve got to get into the sixteenth subchapter, right?” Cole nods, biting back a response. “So, if we find another tu

Cole looks over the edge again, biting on his lip as he considers my proposal.

The dull light is coming from the city’s overhead cavern lights. The brightness is about normal for daytime in the Moon Realm, so it might be anytime between ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. “We’ll wait until it starts to get dark so we won’t be seen. It’s a reservoir, Cole, I’m sure it’s deep enough.”

At that moment Tawni and Elsey splash into the tu

Chapter Sixteen

Tristan

We awake to a piercing shriek that echoes through the caves. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. It is becoming a bit of a bad habit for me.

“What…was…that?” Roc says from beside me.

“I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” I say. I try to sit up but find it is impossible. My arms are tied to my sides, my feet together. It feels like I’m in a straitjacket.

“Oh God,” Roc says. “What now?”

We hear another piercing scream and then a high-pitched frantic cackling. The cackling continues for a bit, sometimes rising in volume and other times lessening. It makes it hard to tell where and how far away it is coming from.

“What do we do?” Roc says.

“Wait,” I say. We don’t have much of a choice. We’re laying in the dark, bound as tight as a caterpillar in a cocoon, with no idea where we are. Waiting seems like the only option. “Do you remember what happened?” I ask.

“All I remember is the ground dropping away and then sliding a bit. Then everything went black.”

“Yeah, me, too.” This is not good. We’ve successfully managed to escape one captor, only to find ourselves at the mercy of another. One that might be much less likely to give us food and water.

“Let us go!” Roc screams suddenly, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Bloody hell, Roc. What was that?”

“Sorry. I’ve been awake for a while, trying to get you to wake up, too. I guess I’m going a little stir crazy.”

“Ya think?”

“Are my delectable delights ready for tasting?” a shaky woman’s voice calls from somewhere. More cackling.

Now I know we are in real trouble. Whoever this lady is, she’s madder than a wingless bat. “Roll,” I hiss, turning over and forcing my body to move toward Roc’s voice. I bang into him before he has a chance to get going. He finally gets the hint. Two revolutions, three. Four, five, six. As I come out of my sixth spin, I’m blinded by a light shining directly in my eyes.

“Hee hee hee! Are my scrumptious scamperers scampering again?” the woman’s voice says from right next to me.

When she shifts the light into Roc’s eyes I get a glimpse of her face. I’m not usually one to judge based on appearance, but this woman is hideous. Her head is mostly bald, with only a few wisps of gray hair protruding from her scalp. She has no eyebrows and a bit of dark stubble on her chin. Her nose is long, overhanging and casting a shadow on her thin white lips. Her blue eyes might be pretty were they not on her face and filled with madness.

“My palettable pretties are awake!” she exclaims, showing off a mouth with only a handful of teeth, perhaps seven or eight total. Her red tongue looks abnormally long, like a serpent’s, glossing over her teeth and lips.

Ignoring us once again, the woman busies herself with something that we can’t see.

“We shouldn’t even be here,” Roc says, a bit of anger entering his voice. It is unexpected. I’d expect him to sound scared, or at least worried, but no, he sounds angry.

“If you have something to say, Roc, just say it,” I say. Now isn’t the time to pick a fight, but I want to know what’s on Roc’s mind.

“We’re chasing after a girl you’ve never even said two words to,” he spits out.

“Wrong, Roc. I’ve said exactly two words to her,” I snap back, my temperature level rising.

“I don’t think Adele! and Run! count as having spoken to her,” Roc says bitterly, imitating my voice, but making it sound nasally and girly.

“I didn’t make you come!” I growl.

He doesn’t have a response to that, so we both lie in silence, which is worse than arguing, because the old woman is talking to herself. In between speaking to us, she is saying things like, “A finger for breakfast, a hand for lunch, an ear for di

That’s when I realize what she is doing: preparing a fire. And above it is a spit, constructed with a pile of rocks on either end and a metal bar across them. It is about the length of a human, I think.

Roc and I realize it at the same time. “She’s going to freakin’ eat us, Tristan!” Roc hisses, temporarily forgetting his beef with me.

We can see the flames from the fire casting shadows on the cave walls, and smell the smoke as it blusters off the growing fire.

Suddenly, anger courses through my veins, pumping fresh blood to my extremities. How dare Roc question my feelings for Adele? How does he know what I am feeling or what it can motivate me to do? And how dare this ca

Pure determination floods my body for the first time in my life. It is out of my control, my actions those of my body, not my mind.

I spin hard, rolling right at the woman, whose back is still to us. I collide hard with her ankles, tripping her backwards over me. I keep rolling…right into the fire. Like I said: it is my body doing the thinking, not my mind. It isn’t a great plan, but it’s all I have.

I feel the heat from the flames licking at my torso, trying to penetrate the thick nest of ropes around me, tear through my clothes, scorch my skin. The fire is a ca

When the heat becomes unbearable and I’m sure the ropes must be on fire, I spin backwards and out of the fire. The old woman has staggered to her feet and I collide with her again, once more knocking her over. This time she falls in a heap on top of me, her face coming to rest right in front of my own. Her breath stinks and I can feel her bony knees and elbows poking into my ribs and legs.