The Dreaming: Dark Star (Book 5)

11.1. The Return

Imorah walked out of the water and sat on the nearest flat stone. Partly, she felt compelled to hear his story, but also, she really had no other choice—she was cornered in this canyon. And he was offering her an out to this situation; a way to get in his good books again. She had no other choice but to accept.

They sat in silence for a while. The man was looking down at the water in front of him, turned away from Imorah, deep in thought, it seemed.

Finally, without looking at Imorah, he said, "I was told as a young man that I would be a part of something important."

He paused for quite a while, so Imorah prompted, "A part of what?"

Taking a deep breath, he said with intensity, "A part of the rebellion." He turned and looked at her finally. "This might sound strange, but I believe your book is the key. And I believe it is my destiny to help you get to The City."

Imorah's heart began to beat harder, and her belly tingled. He seemed utterly sincere. From what she could sense, he was telling the truth. She gulped, feeling confused. She found that she wanted to believe him. On the other hand, she could all too easily remember the look on his face when he'd hit her. Like a wild animal had taken him over. She'd never seen anything like it, and the thought of it terrified her. She couldn't live with him for a few months.

They remained in silence for a long time. Imorah resolved not to go with the man—to find any way to escape him.

The man continued to look out at the water, watching it fall over the edge into the darkness below.

Imorah also watched the water and wondered if there was anyone living down there, where that water was flowing. What river it formed—a river in the Shelter?

Finally, at last, she decided to come out and say it. She would be honest with him, try her best to reason with him in all honesty. "I believe you," she said.

He turned to look at her, a deep frown on his face.

"I believe you want to help me," she repeated. "But... I can't wait many moons until the rains come. And...."

"And what," the man asked.

"And, I don't want to be with you in... that... way." She couldn't meet his eyes when she spoke.

The man was silent for a long time.

Imorah's stomach lurched, afraid he would be angry.

But then he said, "There is one way that I could take you sooner."

Imorah's eyes widened—this wasn't what she had expected him to say.

He turned to look at her, "It's very dangerous, though."

"I don't care—I'm willing to walk through the desert alone, what can be more dangerous than that?"

"Hmph," he snorted, nodding his head. "Ayah, tis true, tis true."

"What is this way you speak of?" she urged.

He took another deep breath. He was clearly not used to talking about this subject, as he said it hesitantly, "There is a vast underground highway."

Imorah had a flash, an image passed through her mind—of lying on her back, driving in an underground highway. A memory? She shook the thought away and tried to focus on the man.

"I found it when I was sixteen," he said slowly, like he was choosing his words very carefully. "And when I turned eighteen, I travelled on it for many moons. I saw many strange things down there. I travelled to many places."