by Casey Eanes
What happened? I fell. Yes. I fell...down a pit. Willyn’s mind began putting together the loose details of the room, trying to remember what significance they held. The end of the rope dangled at her feet, its end dancing on the cold stone floor. It brushed against a pale hand that lay broken on a heap. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, trying to make sense of the image.
Oh no.
That wasn’t her hand. Her eyes adjusted with the darkness, and she forced her hands down to the floor. It gave way from her, absorbing her body’s force as she pushed herself up. Her flesh recoiled at the sensation. She looked down at the new horrors lying beneath her.
Bodies littered the floor, a ghastly collage of stiff and destroyed human life. The floor was littered with them, the emptied shells of both Red and Bagger laborers, disposed as if they were nothing but trash.
These are the miners that disappeared. The boy had warned her of this. The boy. Legion’s Teeth. Her mind slowly turned over the details when a voice whispered in the darkness.
“Do you know how long it has been since I last feasted on the blood of man?”
Aleph above. She remembered now, everything that had transpired in the Eastern shaft. Her heart froze in her chest as the monster in the mirror continued to mutter. Slowly she turned her head only to be met with horrible green eyes shedding an eerie light over the large chamber. Her chest tightened as she wheezed for breath, her hands clumsily searching for her mask.
“I was very surprised when my benefactor above began dropping me these morsels. I didn’t know what was happening, you see. I can’t hear my siblings very clearly in these depths. Whispers in the dark. The mountain…it shields me. For eons I became ravenous…nearly losing my mind down here. It is so very lonely to be forgotten. Forgotten by the world, forgotten by my kin.”
The Serub’s voice was like a song, and Willyn did her best not to be caught up in it, for something in it wanted to draw her up, as if her soul could be lapped up in just his words. “My surprise was great when I heard the rumblings in the mountain. Once the seal was open and the first few sacrifices dropped in, it was good to know that I had not been forgotten. You have my thanks, child.”
Willyn’s blue eyes locked with the green ones that shone in the dark and she remained silent. The Serub stepped closer to the mirror's edge. “I see that you are not like the others. Your hands are covered in blood, a most useful ally for me and my kin on Candor.”
Willyn’s mind quaked at the words. She stared down at her hands. No blood lay on them. What was the Serub talking about?
The owner of the green eyes laughed, his voice filling the room, his laughter shaking what felt to be the whole mountain. Willyn stepped forward and words left her mouth.
“What is your name, Serub?”
Willyn’s voice sounded like a child's in the darkness, the words weak and impotent in the presence of the divine. He sneered, but relented from some unspoken offense.
His voice rumbled like a hurricane, forcing Willyn to cover her ears as the mountain quaked with power. “I am Bastion, defender of my kin and their claim on Candor.”
As Bastion’s announcement echoed down through the mineshaft, Willyn noticed the rope dangling at her feet. Bastion approached the edge of his glass prison as he, too, gazed upwards to the opening in the ceiling of the chamber.
His head was shaved and he bore a chiseled face, his body decked in an intricate set of ancient armor. Two swords were sheathed by his side, and if Willyn had not known she would have sworn she was looking at some mimicked form of the Mastermonk.
“Well, go on,” the Serub spoke, his deep voice echoing in the dark. “You’ve found me, learned my name, and tended to my needs. Pull me out from this pit. I take it you are the Keeper?”
A memory, like a bird, fluttered in the rafters of her mind. Deceive him. Deceive him and secure the mirror for yourself.
Willyn nodded and stood to meet Bastion’s emerald eyes. “I am only a servant of the Keeper.” She pulled at the rope and glanced up, shaking with fear that the Serub would not buy the ruse. “I will be back. I need to make preparations, but you will soon be released.” The words came and for a moment she feared she would be found out.
Bastion nodded, his eyes radiating with anticipation.
Relief poured over her as she left the chamber, climbing hand over hand up the rope, up toward the jagged opening carved out by the jackhammers. She pulled herself up the height of the secret chamber, her mind racing, full of questions.
Who had dropped the rope? Her mind danced through the crooked hallways of memory until she found something she remembered. Viga. Viga had nearly killed her, and she braced herself for another fight. As she eclipsed the chamber opening, her nose caught the burning smell of gunpowder. Silently she waited, her eyes trying to penetrate through the settling dust that still hung like a thick cloud in the darkness. A black mass lay on the ground five feet away from her.
Viga. His chest was riddled with holes and his eyes were open and hollow. She leaned down, sheathing her dagger in her robes just as the cold muzzle of a pistol was placed directly on her temple.
“Easy. Move away.” The voice was familiar, but Willyn dared not make any sudden movements. “Stand up. Walk slow.”
“Why the Eastern tunnels? Why?” The voice. She knew this voice.
“Your mask? Gone? Strange things, you see now, yes? Eastern shafts of the Teeth, no good for the mind.” The cadence was the singsong, cobbled mishmash of the common tongue.
“Bri,” she whispered, her heart filling with relief. She glanced down and saw the body of Viga riddled with bullet wounds. The four shots. Willyn swallowed. Bri was still holding the pistol against her, and her mind spun hard to make sense of it all. She braced herself for what might be coming.
“You must...be easy now.” To her surprise, Bri did not lower his weapon from her head. The mask that covered his face was fogged, blurring the outline of his dark face and thick braided mustache.
“What are you doing, Bri?” Willyn had so longed for a friendly face, but the darkness of this place was beginning to crumble around her. Why does he have a gun to my head?
“I ask you same question.” An audible click echoed through the shaft as Bri pulled back the hammer of his pistol. “You...you are not doing what Monk said.”
Willyn whispered to him, throwing a wary glance at the opening in the floor that led to the Serub’s pit. “Be quiet. Not here. I can explain.”
“I heard you talk with the demon. You are...how you say... planning things with him?” He shoved the muzzle further, brushing it against her midnight dyed hair. Bri’s eyes were sharp, unyielding, and though he struggled to handle the common language, his resolve did not diminish. “Monk...monk would not bless these things.”
Willyn stared at Bri and whispered the only thing she knew to say. “The Serub…”
Bri cut her off. “Do not speak that name, child. Demon.”
Willyn stammered, “The...the demon is convinced I am his ally. I am nothing of the sort, but we must get the mirror before…”
Marching footsteps echoed down the dark hallways, and Willyn stared into Bri’s eyes. “There is not time for this, Bri. You must trust me. Seam and Hosp are after this mirror and we have to stop them. We have to take this mirror out and hide the demon from them. I am your friend!”
Bri blinked and his pistol lowered for a fraction of a second. “I will...believe story now, but know this. I will talk with monk.”
“And he will tell you that my story is true.”
The footsteps grew louder and Willyn envisioned rows of Dominion forces plunging into the Eastern shafts armed to the teeth. She picked up Viga’s pistol, pushing past Bri, her heart still hammering in her chest. She sprung for Viga’s body and reloaded the weapon with a fresh clip. They were trapped and out of time. It would come down to a fight.
Bri looked at Willyn with pity and rested a giant hand on her shoulder. “Easy. Easy now, little one. These that come ar
e my brothers, and they are set to remove the demon. We hide his glass deeper in... secret tunnels.”
“Secret tunnels? Wait…you knew?” Willyn glanced past Bri toward the sound of the oncoming mob. “You knew why I was here.”
Bri nodded and smiled. “Yes. Monk told me you came to help destroy demon. For that I will help. We hide again.”
“In your tunnels?” Willyn kept her eyes locked on the passage beyond Bri’s broad shoulders.
“Yes. Tunnels hidden from eyes of our Masters.” He cut his sharp eyes toward her. “Like you. The Realm people do not know all of the Bagger…” he paused, weighing his word choice, “tricks. We crafty people. Know how to survive. Know much that Realm people do not.”
“I see.” Willyn held tightly to Viga’s pistol as the sound of footsteps echoed down the tunnels. Soon the bright lights of headlamps turned the corner as ten miners marched, greeting Bri in the Bagger tongue.
“Trey! Yaq me dell, no?” A short Bagger approached Bri, pointing at Willyn, his face painted with concern.
Bri nodded, responded, and turned toward her. “He say you need mask. Has one for you.”
Willyn nodded, loosened her grip on Viga’s pistol, and graciously accepted the mask from a dirty satchel. The miner rallied around her, connecting the hose to a small ventilator. She felt the air rush through her face and she inhaled. In an instant, her head exploded with sharp pain.
“Arghh…what’s happening?” It felt as if her brain had been set on fire, and tears streamed out her eyes, fogging up her mask.
Bri hammered his hand on her back and explained, his words disjointed. “It is air here. Kills, but does slow. Dulls brain and kills you.” He pointed to the ventilator, shaking his head. “Real air—real air does not do this. Shows you how the mine air kills.” He held his hands up to his head, accentuating every detail. “The hurt, it will pass.”
The pain did slowly dull, and Willyn was thankful for her newfound companions. The miners approached the opening in the shaft and looked back at Bri. Their fear was obvious.
The lead miner called out, his voice dulled by the rubber mask. “Ach tey dela-ray mondtru tere?”
Bri nodded and responded, pointing his finger down the opening in the floor. “Frick. Getta don munt. Nere cantak do mir.”
The miner nodded and pointed to a young Bagger near him. He whistled and pointed for him to run back up the shaft. The boy, much younger than any of them, took off like a flash.
Bri glanced down at Willyn and patted her on the back. “You must go. We hide demon now.”
Willyn furrowed her brow and dug in her heels. “I’m not leaving. I have to know where he is so I can report back to Wael.”
Bri laughed and shook his head. “So you no trust me now. Silly. We need trust.”
The giant was difficult to read, but Willyn was happy to no longer have his pistol on her skull. She turned and looked down the shaft leading back to the main complex. “What is the boy doing?”
“Look out. He watch for us good. Fast. He will warn us if we need him.”
Willyn turned as the Baggers dropped themselves into the secret chamber. A chorus of loud curses spilled from the pit below as the Baggers met the demon in the dark. The curses and shouting evaporated, giving over to wild screams as the men climbed over one another to pull themselves back up from dark hole. Bri grunted and barked at one of the men lying on the ground, panting for breath.
“Qet tey do?”
The Bagger, his face as white as a sheet, mumbled an answer. Bri dipped his head and softly answered the man, placing his hand on the miner’s shoulder. Bri looked back at Willyn and nodded toward the pit. “Demon is liar. Has tricks.” He tapped his head with two sausage-sized fingers. “Men’s mind not clear, he lies to them with pictures.”
Bri pulled a thick, black canvas from his bag and jumped into the pit. Bastion’s voice echoed up from the chamber. “Where is the one who fed me? “
Willyn yelled down into the darkness. “I am here. We have to move you discreetly. There are many who wish to harm you. We will make sure you are transported safely. Don’t mind the laborers. They will be dealt with.”
Willyn dared to peer over into the pit. Green eyes pressed up against the mirror’s edge, and Willyn saw for an instant the face of a rabid boar looking up at her. Memories of hunting such creatures flashed in her mind. Memories of Hagan.
“You are trying my patience.”
The voice from the mirror spoke and Willyn sneered. Something within her awakened, something that had fallen asleep ever since she had been alone in the cavern. Her mouth lit with words, “You are trying mine!” She turned her attention to Bri, her face twisted with frustration.
“Let's get the mirror out of here. I am done with this.”
Bri nodded and yelled out, his voice booming through the caverns. He held up a dark piece of glass and put it up to the mask’s faceplate. It covered the faceplate entirely. Willyn watched Bri instruct the men, doing her best to follow. Bri then took large rubber gloves, gloves that Willyn knew were used to deaden electric currents, and put them on. All the men in his crew stood alert and followed his instructions.
Bri turned to Willyn, his face barely visible through the darkened faceplate. “Mask hide our eyes from demon. Demon’s eyes…” His fingers pointed to where his eyes would be behind the mask. “Weapons. Important...not let them see ours. Don’t let them see ours...we okay. The gloves...the gloves keep us safe when we move glass.”
“Interesting.” Willyn was impressed, and she watched the crew plunge back down into the depths to begin their work again. Bastion screamed, his voice booming through the caverns, but this time the Baggers moved with authority. They hoisted the mirror from its cavern and wrapped it with the thick canvas. Willyn was careful to shield her eyes as Bastion paced the width of the mirror like a predator. He was desperate to distract the crew, screaming and roaring, his voice like thunderclaps. Several of the men unstrapped poles that had been on their back and used them to create a gurney to carry the mirror. As soon as they wrapped up the mirror entirely, the din created by the Serub ceased.
Bri walked up to the wrapped mirror, took off his mask and gloves, and motioned to the others to do the same. The crew stood there, their faces somber, their mouths silent. The mirror was placed on the shaft’s floor, and Bri spoke his native tongue, the words lost on Willyn’s ears. He untied a small satchel from his belt and scattered a fine white powder over the covered mirror. Willyn knew what it was in an instant: salt.
Bri closed his eyes and extended his hand. The dirty miners mirrored the giant’s movements, and Willyn felt her heart beat deep in her chest. She had never seen such devotion or reverence on the part of the Baggers and her eyes went wide with anticipation.
Bri’s voice boomed in the hall, “Que tell doray, Que tell doray, Tell Uld Bohs restran, und Kuening Aleph es restran.”
The crew chanted with their leader and dropped to their knees. The shaft was silent.
The Baggers stood and whispered the prayer’s end, “Selah.”
Willyn stood, her mind and heart swirling with a strange feeling. It was as if a warm wind had blown through the chamber, and she felt chills ride up and down her spine. Bri stood and pointed to the crew. Without a word, he began to lead the brigade deeper into the mountain, carrying the mirror with them. Willyn followed as the crew turned down one dark corner of mineshaft that Willyn had failed to notice. Her mind swirled with the implications of Bri’s sudden ceremony with the mirror. What did it mean?
One of the lead miners sent a sharp whistle up the shaft. Like a dog, the young Bagger lookout sprinted back to rejoin the crew. The miners were in much better spirits now, and Willyn noticed it just in the way they walked. It was not long before they began to tell jokes and sing songs.
The crew journeyed for what felt like a long distance, but the mountain halls within Legion’s Teeth were so disorienting that Willyn could not be sure how far they had come. They stopped every coupl
e of turns to inspect the route, Bri leaning down, inspecting when the path would diverge. Everything looked the same to Willyn and she soon surrendered to the fact she could not make her way back on her own.
“Keep your eye on him,” Willyn whispered to herself as she eyed Bri. “Without him we will never get this thing back and protected.”
The team stopped in a small hallway that was carved just wide enough for two men to make it through shoulder to shoulder. Bri examined the walls and nodded.
“This. This will be very good.” He pointed at a crack in the wall with his headlamp. He turned to the Baggers and pointed at the crack. “In.”
The men positioned the mirror and slid it into the mountain wall. Bri gathered the men and his face fell solemn. “Nit don vong. Nit.”
The men all placed their closed fists over their hearts and shouted in unison, “Nit don vong.”
Willyn sat across the table from Bri as he guzzled his third bowl of beef stew and fifth beer. She shook her head as he leaned back and belched before wiping at his thick, wet mustache. The man seemed so content and relaxed, but all Willyn could think of was the mirror. Despite the dizzying hour-long trek into the heart of the mountain, Willyn could not help but worry over the men helping Bri, or that Bri himself might have some ulterior motive.
“Bri.” Willyn’s voice was sharp. “What was that prayer you led back there? What did it mean?”
Bri looked up at her, his light brown eyes distant. Willyn thought that perhaps the food and drink had slowed his mind, but Bri spoke and the world began to fade away.
“There is much you Realm people...you do not know. We Baggers, we have strange beliefs. Strange history. We were Rihtian, long ago. Before war.”
“The Great War?”
Bri nodded. “My people…we were…” His eyes searched for the word in his mind. “Deceive.”
“Deceived,” Willyn corrected. Bri nodded, his long mustache moving up with a slight smile. “We the children of old Rihts. They fell under Aleph followers.”
Willyn cocked her head, entranced in the deep cadence and rolling timbre of the man’s voice, despite his straining grasp of the common tongue. For the first time she realized she had only heard her people’s side of this history.