The Host(61)

“That went better than I expected,” Jeb muttered as he steered me through the cave. His words surprised me, and I was glad I didn’t know what he’d thought would happen.

The ground sloped downward under my feet. Ahead, a dim light kept me from total blindness.

“Bet you’ve never seen anything like my place here.” Jeb’s voice was louder now, back to the chatty tone he’d used before. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

He paused briefly in case I might respond, and then went on.

“Found this place back in the seventies. Well, it found me. I fell through the roof of the big room—probably shoulda died from the fall, but I’m too tough for my own good. Took me a while to find a way out. I was hungry enough to eat rock by the time I managed it.

“I was the only one left on the ranch by then, so I didn’t have anyone to show it to. I explored every nook and cranny, and I could see the possibilities. I decided this might be a good card to keep up my sleeve, just in case. That’s how we Stryders are—we like to be prepared.”

We passed the dim light—it came from a fist-sized hole in the ceiling, making a small circle of brightness on the floor. When it was behind us, I could see another spot of illumination far ahead.

“You’re probably curious as to how this all got here.” Another pause, shorter than the last. “I know I was. I did a little research. These are lava tubes—can you beat that? This used to be a volcano. Well, still is a volcano, I expect. Not quite dead, as you’ll see in a bit. All these caves and holes are bubbles of air that got caught in the cooling lava. I’ve put quite a bit of work into it over the last few decades. Some of it was easy—connecting the tubes just took a little elbow grease. Other parts took more imagination. Did you see the ceiling in the big room? That took me years to get right.”

I wanted to ask him how, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Silence was safest.

The floor began to slant downward at a steeper angle. The terrain was broken into rough steps, but they seemed secure enough. Jeb led me down them confidently. As we dropped lower and lower into the ground, the heat and humidity increased.

I stiffened when I heard a babble of voices again, this time from ahead. Jeb patted my hand kindly.

“You’ll like this part—it’s always everyone’s favorite,” he promised.

A wide, open arch shimmered with moving light. It was the same color as the light in the big room, pure and white, but it flickered at a strange dancing pace. Like everything else that I couldn’t understand in this cavern, the light frightened me.

“Here we are,” Jeb said enthusiastically, pulling me through the archway. “What do you think?”





CHAPTER 17

Visited

The heat hit me first—like a wall of steam, the moist, thick air rolled over me and dewed on my skin. My mouth opened automatically as I tried to pull a breath from the abruptly denser air. The smell was stronger than before—that same metallic tang that clung in my throat and flavored the water here.

The murmuring babble of bass and soprano voices seemed to issue from every side, echoing off the walls. I squinted anxiously through the swirling cloud of moisture, trying to make out where the voices came from. It was bright here—the ceiling was dazzling, like in the big room but much closer. The light danced off the vapor, creating a shimmering curtain that almost blinded me. My eyes struggled to adjust, and I clutched at Jeb’s hand in panic.

I was surprised that the strangely fluid babble did not respond in any way to our entrance. Perhaps they couldn’t see us yet, either.

“It’s a bit close in here,” Jeb said apologetically, fanning at the steam in front of his face. His voice was relaxed, conversational in tone, and loud enough to make me jump. He spoke as if we were not surrounded. And the babble continued, oblivious to his voice.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he continued. “I’d be dead several times over if this place didn’t exist. The very first time I got stuck in the caves, of course. And now, we’d never be able to hide out here without it. With no hiding place, we’re all dead, right?”

He nudged me with his elbow, a conspiratorial gesture.

“Mighty convenient, how it’s laid out. Couldn’t have planned it much better if I’d sculpted it myself out of play dough.”

His laugh cleared a section of mist, and I saw the room for the first time.

Two rivers flowed through the dank, high-domed space. This was the chatter that filled my ears—the water gushing over and under the purple volcanic rock. Jeb spoke as if we were alone because we were.