The Star Dwellers

My body is dripping sweat from every pore, and the rock particles are clinging to my skin, making it appear gray and dusty. I start to feel faint as the heat feels like it gains another five degrees in an instant. “Mom?” I say.

“Almost there,” she replies, reading my mind.

Two steps, three. Four, five. And then we stumble out of the tu

“The lava flow,” I murmur.

“One of many,” Mom says.

There’s a deep depression, brimming with flowing, churning viscous lava, crackling and popping with energy. The heat is stifling, pretty much unbearable.

I notice Tawni and Trevor stretching out and I follow their lead, touching my toes and twisting from side to side, trying to loosen out the crooks in my back. “Why are we here?” I ask.

Mom answers: “We knew the Sun Realm would never expect a hidden train line this close to the lava flow—nor would they want to come down here. It’s very close to here.”

She gives us a minute to finish stretching and pour delicious water over our lips and tongues, and then we must move on. Breathing is difficult in the oppressive heat as we pass the molten lava flow.

“How would you like to work down here?” Trevor asks.

“No thanks,” Tawni says.

“People can’t really work down here, can they?” I ask.

“They can, and they do,” Trevor says. “My old man was a lava worker, hauling garbage from all across the Tri-Realms down to the flow, dumping it in, watching the flow devour it. He used to tell me stories about the stuff people from the Sun Realm would throw away. Stuff that we would kill for down here. Mountains of uneaten food, soft mattresses, furniture, all kinds of crap. He was under strict presidential orders that everything had to be destroyed, no exceptions. Those who were caught trying to forage through the garbage would have to pay the consequences.”

“That’s crazy,” I say. “What were the consequences?” After my experiences with the Enforcers, I’m almost scared to ask.

“They didn’t say. But this one time my dad gave in to temptation, came home with a beautiful new bed for my brother and me to share. When he gave it to us, he said, ‘To hell with the rules.’” Trevor takes a deep breath. “He seemed so happy to give it to us, and honestly, I was so proud of my dad. He stood up for himself. The next day he didn’t come home from work. We never saw him again.”

My eyelids slowly close and I stumble when I step on a rock that rolls away under my feet. Trevor grabs my arm and steadies me. “Trevor, I’m sorry,” I say, and this time he lets me say it, because I’m not really apologizing for anything, but showing him that I’m saddened by his story.

“It’s okay. We got through it. We always do down here.”

Supreme gratitude fills my chest as I realize how blessed I am that my entire family is still intact, regardless of all the bad stuff that’s happened to us. We are a blessed people. I hear my father’s words ring in my head, from a time long past.

We reach the end of the lava flow, where the reddish glow disappears beneath the rock, leaving us behind. The end of the cavern blocks our path. There’s no tu

Before I can voice my question, she smiles and says, “Now we go up.”

Tilting my head back, I gaze up along the pocked rock wall. Near the very top is a dark space, as if there’s a hidden tu

“How do we get up?” Tawni asks, staring sharply at the thirty-foot wall.

I know the answer. “We climb,” I say.

“Without ropes?” Tawni’s eyes are worrying again. She’s not the most coordinated and I can almost see the vision behind her eyes: her legs tangling as she falls away from the wall into the lava flow below.

I look at my mom, hoping she’s got some brilliant—and safe—method of getting us to the top. “Without ropes,” she confirms. “However, we’ll tie ourselves together, so if one person falls, the others can try to keep them on the wall. Be vigilant with your hand- and footholds at all times and we’ll get through this.”

Tawni doesn’t look convinced, but she seems better knowing she’s not on her own. I put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, and she manages an u

“That’s right,” I lie.

We tie our packs tight around our shoulders until they bite into the skin under our arms. Then we tie our packs to each other’s. It seems like a lame attempt at safety but I think we all feel better by doing it.

“This wall has plenty of good handholds,” Mom says, “so don’t settle for bad ones. Before moving up to the next one, make sure you’re secure. We’ll move up as a team. Ready?”

No one says anything, which she takes as a yes. She gets into position, reaching up for the first hold, a deep depression in the rock. And then she’s up, born only by the strength and positioning of her own hands and feet on the wall.

I send Tawni up next, and despite her concerns, she seems to quickly get the hang of it, using her height to her advantage as she is able to access the best handholds simply by stretching herself out.

I’m third, and although I’m not afraid of heights, I feel a pang of fear thud in my chest. It’s like I’m worried that after all I’ve been through, I might die because of a stupid wall—and it scares me. But I find my first handhold and manage to get up, pushing off with my legs. I don’t see Trevor start climbing behind me, but know he’s there because of the jostle of the ropes that co

We move slowly upwards, like one organism, my mom as the head, Tawni the torso, and Trevor the legs. I guess that makes me the butt. One leg up, push off, reach with my arms, grab a rock, raise the other leg, repeat. Again and again, until I know we’re getting high. My heart continues to hammer in my chest and I fight the urge to look down. My palms are sweaty with exertion—and though I hate to admit it: fear.

I look up and see my mom clamber over the lip at the top, disappearing for a moment. Then her head appears, looking down at those of us still climbing. She offers a hand to Tawni, who takes it, allowing Mom to pull her up the final few feet. Finally, my heart rate slows. It wasn’t so bad, after all. We’re all going to make it.

You know how bad things tend to happen when you least expect them? Like right when a miner discovers a massive gemstone, and he’s gawking at its beauty, that’s when the roof collapses on his head. That’s how it is now. I’m not paying attention and my foot isn’t completely secure when I push off. I feel it slip off the edge and I wave my arms wildly, trying to find something to grab onto. Both hands find holds, but my sweaty fingers won’t grip the slippery stone.

I fall.

I’m very high up and I fall.

I cry out and Trevor does, too. There’s a twitch as the rope co

Despite my better judgment, I look down. Below me is hell, frothing with fire and death. I gasp, let out a high-pitched shriek. Say something like, “Ohmygodohmygod!”

I hear my mom yell from above. “Reach for the wall—both of you!”

I look up and expect to see fear in her eyes, but instead there’s a gritty determination as she hangs on to something I can’t see. Tawni is also dangling precariously, barely clinging to the wall. My mom’s holding all of us up.

I grit my teeth and reach out an uncertain foot to the wall, trying to stop us from swinging. As soon as my foot touches the wall, we start to spin, the rope twisting. It’s disorienting and it takes all of my willpower not to look down again. “Trevor,” I say, “reach for the wall on three.”