Princess Selene's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The footprints spread from the hatch like the spokes of a wheel. Some led north. Some led south. One set climbed toward the black mountains. Selene knelt in the ash and studied them. If she chose wrong, she would lose the survivor for good. She looked back at the hexweasel. It sat at the edge of the scorched ring and would not step closer. "Which one?" she asked it. The creature only twitched its antennae. This was her choice, not the weasel's. She crouched over each trail. Most tracks were faint, half-filled by wind. But one set toward the mountain was deep and fresh. The stride was long and even. Someone had walked there fast, and not long ago. Selene pressed her palm into the print. The edges still held their shape. She mounted the Sixhorn and turned it toward the mountain. "That way," she said. The hexweasel darted after her, then fell behind and vanished into a burrow. She was alone now. The tracks held all day and into the next. She barely slept. She ate the last of her dried fruit in the saddle. The prints climbed higher, over loose stone, past twisted trees she did not know. Twice she nearly turned back. The trail was thin. Then it would deepen again, and she would press on. As the sun dropped behind the mountain, the footprints ended at a wall of rock. Selene's heart sank. A dead trail. She had chosen wrong. Then the Sixhorn's marks caught a light that was not the sun. Selene looked up. Built into the mountain stood a dome of curved metal and glass. Lamps glowed gold behind round windows. Nothing on Zygori was made like this. It matched the crashed machine. Her marks flared bright at the sight. She climbed down and walked toward the wide steps. A shape moved in the doorway. A man stepped out to meet her. He wore a bright orange suit she had never seen, thick and padded, with white boots and gloves. His black hair curled loose. His eyes were pale blue and fixed on her glowing face. He held up both hands, palms open. "Easy," he said. "You're not one of us. And you're not from this part of the planet either, are you?" He looked past her at the Sixhorn, then back at her marks. He laughed once, short and stunned. Selene did not lower her guard. "I followed your tracks," she said. "You walked out of the fallen machine." "Max," he said, tapping his chest. He glanced behind him into the lit dome, then back at her. His smile faded. "You should come inside." Selene looked at the dark trail behind her, then at the open door. She stepped forward and went in.