by M. E. Thorne
There were several active mineshafts, their entrances braced by wooden pylons. Nearby there were rows of smelters, black smoke churning up from their chimneys. To the north, beyond them, were blacksmith forges and workshops, all of the buzzing with activity.
Not far from there was a series of low, clapboard constructed buildings, their windows and doors covered with thick bars, marking them as the cells for prisoners. To the south, on the other side of the camp, were more comfortable-looking buildings, built from wood and with slate roofs, that were likely barracks for the Luminark troops. A series of warehouses ranged in rows along the middle of the camp, acting as a dividing line. There was a single large gate that controlled the flow of traffic in and out of the camp, which was located in the middle of the western wall.
Surprisingly, not far from the gate, rose what I could only describe as a mansion. It was built from white, cut stone, and featured several balconies, patios, and huge, glass windows which gave the occupants either stunning views of the sea or the wretched conditions of the prisoners, depending on which way they decided to face.
Looking away from that building, I studied the people in the camp further.
“How do the Luminark tell that someone is of Duskhaven ancestry?” I asked, looking more closely at the guards. At that distance, they looked just like the people of Gloomglow, I couldn’t distinguish them from my own citizens.
“It’s the eyes,” Vexile hissed. ”Only those born with pure, Luminark blood have golden eyes. Their church says only those with golden eyes are blessed by Alruna. Anyone without them is considered less than human.”
Eye color? The thought boggled the mind. But then again, back on Earth, people were discriminated against based upon skin tone, hair color, or other petty reasons. Why should I be surprised about this?
The prisoners labored under the cruel lash of whips and threats of violence. Some were being marched into the mine, while others were hauling ore out, carrying it to their peers by the smelters.
I saw Vexile’s entire body tense as we watched the poor men, women, and children struggle to move the overloaded mine carts or the pallets of black iron ingots under the scorching sun.
“We’ll save them,” I said, promising myself as much as her.
Carefully, I pulled out a roll of paper and handed it over to her. Vexile began sketching out the layout of the labor camp, particularly where the watch posts were located, the layout and distance between the buildings, and where the Luminark troops were concentrated. Garnet, equipped with a spyglass lent to her by Dougherty, aided our efforts.
We observed that there was a small set of fields, just to the north of the camp, tended to by more prisoners.
“I think they grow crops there, to help stretch the food supply they get shipped in,” Garnet said, before pointing to another, smaller field set within the walls, “Not sure what they grow there though.”
I glanced at the forges, which were a series of open-air stations, where I could see the rise and fall of hammers and I could hear the wheeze of bellows. “How many forges are they running?”
“Four, and they run them all day and all night,” Garnet answered, peering at the prisoners with the telescope. “They run in shifts, each shift assigned to produce certain products, like weapons, household items, whatever the foreman demands.”
I grunted as Vexile continued to take notes, before asking, “How many mines are they currently running?”
Garnet chewed on her lip before answering, “I’d say at least four, but it’s hard to tell how far underground they extend.”
“I can feel the vibrations from their digging, vibrating through the earth,” my queen said, her tail pressed flat against the ground. “They’ve created a warren of tunnels, shafts, and halls underground, digging ever deeper for richer veins.”
I marveled at her, before asking. “Can you help us determine how far out their works go? Even if we don’t have an exact layout of the tunnels, we can at least understand how extensive their works are and check to see if there are any abandoned entrances or shafts we can exploit.”
She nodded, her eyes gleaming savagely. “Yes, follow me.”
We spent the rest of the day crawling through the hills, as we carefully surveyed the area. We did this while also avoiding the Luminark guards. As Garnet had warned, they did patrol the outlying area, but most in a desultory fashion, their routes never straying far from well-worn paths.
We discovered several abandoned shafts and entrances, where either the Luminark extracted everything of value, or their test digs did not bear fruit. Thanks to Vexile’s extraordinary ability to sense vibrations and tremors through the earth, we were quickly able to determine which ones were close to actively mined tunnels and which ones were dead ends.
Vexile paused to take copious notes, filling our spare sheets with her observations. It seemed like the Luminark’s mining operation extended over the entire region, spreading under their camp and up into the hills.
It was late afternoon by the time we took a break, retreating into a narrow grotto by the southern edge of the camp.
“These three entrances were once attached to the mines, but the Luminark sealed them with rocks and debris,” Vexile pointed to the marks she had made on the map. “We might be able to create an opening and sneak inside, given enough time.”
“I wonder if we can do so in such a way that any passing patrols don’t realize what we’ve done?” I thought out loud. “If we can sneak into the mines, it might be possible to make contact with one of the prisoners and learn more about the inner workings of the labor camp.”
Garnet squinted at the map, “Maybe if we --”
A distant blast of trumpets and the shouts of angry troops crested from above.
We crawled to a nearby ravine, peeking over the edge.
In the hills below, we could see a young child, likely no more than six or seven, rounding the southwest corner of the camp. They were running for their life, their arms and legs pumping furiously as they ran away from the labor camp, directly towards us.
Guards, stationed in their towers, were shouting directions to their fellows, who were mounting up by the gate and preparing for pursuit.
Instinctually, I knew we shouldn’t help the child. Anything we did to alert the Luminark about our presence could endanger our mission and the safety of Gloomglow. It would be best to let the guards capture the child and take them back, giving us a better chance of liberating all of the prisoners in the future.
Instead, I found myself turning to Vexile. “Do you see that ditch over there? How fast can you get there?”
“Fast enough,” was her answer.
I nodded, before pulling out my crossbow. “Vexile, head over there and lay low. As soon as the kid passes, grab them with your tail and keep them quiet. Garnet, you and I are going to head back towards the grotto as soon as the kid is out of sight of the guards, and we’re going to make a lot of noise. Hopefully, that’ll distract them enough that they’ll come searching our way.”
“We can ditch them in the canyons,” Garnet nodded, “they won’t be able to push their mounts into that area, the ground is too uneven for them to run quickly.”
“Meet back up at our camp, but only if you’re sure the Luminark can’t follow you,” I warned them. “Don’t let them capture you, no matter what.”
Vexile gave me a quick kiss, then slipped out of sight.
Moving with Garnet, I climbed to the top of the grotto, watching as the child frantically ran, headless of her bare feet against the sharp, stony ground.
Several Luminark troops, mounted on beasts I could only think of as giant dodo birds, emerged from the labor camp. Foot troops, armed with clubs and nets, followed in their wake, streaming towards the hills.
The right thing, at the right place, at the wrong time. The thought kept haunting me, even as I did my best to focus on the task at hand.
“Those birds can run fast,” Garnet warned, as she prepared her weapon, �
�but they’re bad when the ground isn’t even. Stick to the rocky and narrow passages.”
I nodded, appreciating her advice.
The child ran, never looking back. They gave a small, shrill yell of surprise when Vexile’s tail snapped out of the ditch and grabbed them, hauling them into hiding.
I signal Garnet that it was our turn to act.
We rumbled down the grotto’s jagged slope, kicking up loose rocks and slate as we moved. Hitting the grotto’s floor, we made a ruckus as we ran, our footsteps echoing loudly off the stone walls. Garnet waved for me to head to the right, down a steep channel, while she ran through a wider passage to the left.
“Be careful,” I shouted, knowing she was picking the most dangerous route for herself.
She nodded once, then turned and ran as fast as she could.
I heard the squawk of the dodos behind us, their riders shouting and cursing at the birds as they awkwardly made their way down into the grotto.
Running, my shoes slapping loudly against the stones, I made my way deeper into the foothills. The canyons wound endlessly, twisting and curving on one another, creating an impossible maze. Nonetheless, I could hear the Luminark troops still searching, calling to one another and sounding horns as they tried to locate the escaped child.
Each time I heard them, I strained to tell if they were yelling orders, calling battle formations, or crying out in surprise or victory. Each shout of frustration and anger lent me speed and stamina, even as I strained to keep moving.
“This way!”
The voice was close, much closer than I had expected.
I heard the sound of a dodo moving in, only a few meters away. I threw myself down, hiding in a narrow crack between two rocks.
“I swore I heard something.”
Peeking through the opening, I saw the scaly feet of a dodo stumble past. Several Luminark troopers followed in their wake, clubs held low.
I forced myself into the gap further, holding my breath as one of the troopers stopped to look inside. I could have sworn his golden eyes locked onto mine, but just for a moment before he shook his head and kept moving.
“Why are we going this far for one fucking kid?” someone asked angrily. “Even if they escape, there’s nothing out here.”
“Nothing except the dragon,” another said mirthfully.
“Shut it, Keith,” a woman commanded. “If Foreman Sanderson catches you even mentioning the word dragon, you’ll be working Deadman's Duty for a week.”
The trooper grumbled loudly as the search party moved on.
I waited a good five minutes before I carefully peeked out of my hiding spot. Not seeing any additional troops, I quietly began heading back the way I had come. I was hoping to double back and then find the original trail we had taken to the labor camp since I was thoroughly turned around and lost by that point.
“There’s someone back this way!” I heard a man shout.
Cursing, all I could do was run for my life. Behind me, I heard the dodo cry out, followed by the sound of booted feet running in hot pursuit.
I clutched my crossbow to my chest; I had ten bolts but was likely only to get off one or two shots before they were on me. The knife at my belt would have to do.
Stumbling, I ran down a dried-up creek bed, which bit deeply into the earth. The stone walls soared up around me, pinning me in.
“This way!” one of the troopers cried. “The kid must be down here!”
I jumped down a small cliff, which must have once been a waterfall, losing my footing on landing. Before I could get back up, someone grabbed me from behind and hauled me into a small hole at the base of the cliff.
They kept one hand on my shoulder as the other one wrapped around my mouth, smothering me with an armored grasp. I struggled and kicked, but just for a second, as I heard the Luminark troops approach.
“Shut the fuck up and keep quiet,” someone hissed in my ear.
Listening to their words, I stopped moving and curled up, pushing further back into the small hiding spot with them, their body pressed against my back.
The dodo jumped down, almost knocking off their rider. They cursed and kicked the bird, sending it squawking again.
“If this is a wild goose chase, I’m going to kill you,” the woman riding the dodo groused.
“I swear, I saw something,” a trooper insisted, pebbles falling with his descent.
Someone quipped, “Right, like you saw a dragon last week --”
“I said shut the fuck up about the dragon!” the woman yelled. “Do you not have any sense of self-preservation? Seriously, Sanderson has had it up to here with talk of the dragon and he will make your life hell if he catches you.”
“It’s just a joke, Sergeant,” the man insisted.
“Fan out,” the woman ordered. “Head to the end of the creek, then come back. If we don’t find the kid by the time you come back, we’ll return to camp and say they’re gone and likely dead.”
The troops spread out, searching behind rocks and down gullies for their missing prisoner. I could hear them jabbing into shadows and clanging their weapons to scare out their prey, like hunters beating a bush. Someone threw out the butt of a hand-rolled cigarette, which rolled to land by my feet. Our hiding spot quickly filled with stinging smoke, and I had to cover my mouth to keep from coughing.
“Follow me,” the woman who had grabbed me said.
Turning, I trailed after her as she crawled further underground, the hole expanding into a small, naturally carved tunnel. The woman moved slowly, as to make virtually no noise.
The light dimmed, then disappeared as we went further underground. I was grateful when the sound of the soldiers dimmed, then vanished, the earth muffling all noise.
Blinking, I continued to crawl after the woman’s silhouette, she was clearly moving by instinct, having memorized our route. She paused, then disappeared through a side opening in the passage we were following.
I’d barely made my way into the cavernous room before she grabbed me and slammed me against the wall.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she spat into my face.
Chapter 14
“Helping a kid escape,” I answered, trying to add some steel to my words.
“You’re helping almost got me killed,” she shot back. “I was out gathering mushrooms when I heard the camp’s trumpets go off. Then, you lead those bastards right in my direction!”
I could make out her features, even in the absolute darkness of the cave. The colors in the room were washed out, but I could still easily make out her stony demeanor and long, wild hair.
Behind her were a series of boxes, crates, and tarps, all neatly stacked up and sorted against the far cavern wall. I assumed the area was some kind of safehouse or hiding spot she used.
My feet still kicking off the ground, I reached up and wrapped my hands over hers. I was surprised to find she was wearing some kind of metallic gauntlets, which were equipped with a number of braces, springs, and tensile rods.
“Do you mind letting me down,” I said, letting a bit of my magic flow into my words.
Surprised, she let me go, leaving me to slide down the wall.
She stumbled back, eyeing me warily, before she asked, “Who are you?”
I got up, making a show of straightening my clothes and adjusting my circlet.“I am Robert Grailmont, Dark Lord of Duskhaven.”
She gave a dry laugh, “Yeah, and I’m a Luminark cardinal.”
“I am the Dark Lord, whether you believe me or not,” I said, before softening my tone, “but thank you for saving me. I appreciate it.”
She snorted, before walking over to the pile of supplies. “I’m assuming you’re not alone, how many other people are still out there?”
I paused, thinking for a moment, before answering honestly. “My wife, my guide, and the escaped child. My wife was able to grab the escapee, and I doubt the Luminark would be able to catch her. ”I was more worried about Garnet, but there wa
s little I could do for her outside hoping her experience and the training Dougherty had provided would be enough to let her escape.
“We’ll hide here for a while,” the woman took a seat on a box, “once it’s safe, I’ll lead you back outside, then you’re on your own.”
“That’s fair,” I answered, before joining her.“What’s your name?”
She glared at me for a moment, before answering, “Nichessa.”
“It’s nice to meet you, then, Nic,” I replied.
She grabbed a candle out of a box. I blinked, my eyes stinging and watering as she lit it.
“It’s Nichessa,” she stated firmly.
Looking more closely at her, I could see she was wearing patchwork leather armor, not much different than the gear worn by those at the watchtower. Sturdy boots, with cloth wrapped around the ankles, worn trousers, and a thick jerkin, completed her outfit.
Her eyes were dull, gunmetal grey.
Leaning up against a nearby box, I asked. “You live out here?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she sat back and closed her eyes. “We’ll wait a few hours, then go. If you try anything stupid in the meantime, I’ll snap your neck.”
With nothing else to do, I followed suit and rested, hoping to be reunited with Vexile soon.
A few hours later, Nichessa led us through another series of narrow, twisting caverns, before we emerged into the late afternoon sun. We were perched high up on the edge of the plateau, with the foothills spread out below. I could see the gleam of armor and I could hear the cries of search parties combing the hills.
“They’re still looking? I said, worried.
“It’s a good sign,” Nichessa answered, scowling. “It means they haven’t found anything yet, and they’re getting desperate. Sanderson, the foreman of the mines, is a complete bastard. He’ll see one escape, even a child, as an insult to his position as the camp’s leader. ”She sighed, “They’ll likely be searching all night.”