by M. E. Thorne
“They’re sinking new shafts,” Nichessa confirmed, as she shielded her eyes with her hand. “The earthquake must have opened up new veins for the bastards to exploit.”
I thought about the cave system Nichessa had shown me during our flight from the search party, “Do you think the quake also changed the layout of the cavern system? Maybe that opened up a breach we could use to sneak into the mines?”
The blacksmith looked doubtful, but she didn’t say anything. The information she’d been able to provide on the mines’ layout had been limited, we had mostly relied on Jeanie to chart them out. Our maps of the natural caverns though were extensive; Nichessa knew them like the back of her hand.
After several hours, we arrived back at Nichessa’s home. The stones she’d rolled over the entrance were exactly as we’d left them, and the interior was unmolested.
The blacksmith gave a heartful sigh as she surveyed the forge, “I really have missed this place,” she said.
Vexile, seeing it for the first time, marveled as I had at all her crafts.
“These are amazing,” she said, as she looked at an ornate breastplate, its metallic surface inscribed with flowing, filigree swirls.
“Just practice,” Nichessa insisted, “I wanted to try a technique I saw used on the fancy contraband that was meant for noble households.”
“It’s a shame no one gets to see this,” my queen continued.
Nichessa just shrugged. “I don’t do it for praise or admiration, I just do it because I enjoy it.” She walked over and picked up the piece of armor, running a discerning finger along the outer edge. “Sometimes, when I’m working with the metal, I can almost see it flowing into the shape I want, all on its own. Like it knows what it should become, without my intervention.”
I stole a look at Vexile, then steeled my courage.
“Nichessa,” I let just a hint of my power creep into my voice, to add confidence to my words. “We want to make you an offer.”
She put her back to the forge, leaning up against its side, “And what would that be? Are you still trying to talk me into staying in Gloomglow?”
“Not just that,” I said, looking her dead in the eyes. The magic flared along my spine. “We want you to become our Second Queen and one of our ascendants. Will you help us?”
She looked at the two of us, before breaking out into a low, uneasy laugh. “You have got to be kidding, right?”
“No,” Vexile slithered forward, standing at my side. “I can feel it, Revina has chosen you to be the Second Queen of Duskhaven. You must feel it as well when the three of us are together? That surge of energy, that tingle that runs up and down your back, like a ribbon of fire?”
For a moment, something cracked in Nichessa’s demeanor, the truth striking home. Quickly, the blacksmith turned her back to us and went to her workbench. She began to busy herself with her tools. “You’re nuts, both of you.”
She clanged the tools together, her back still to us.
I thought desperately for something to say, to bring her to our side. “Your hands,” I blurted.
Nichessa stopped dead.
“If you become an ascendant, your hands will be healed,” I continued awkwardly.
Vexile nodded, “Before my ascension, I was always sick, always tired, drained by my years in the empire and my flight here. But now, the goddess has blessed me with my ideal body, and the strength to carry out our convictions.”
Nichessa shuddered, her gauntlets snapping, the rods along the back tensed to the point of breaking.
And I realized we had said the absolute worst thing possible.
She was upon me before I could even react. The blacksmith roughly shoved Vexile aside, grabbed me by my robe, and slammed me up against the crates. Swords, pieces of armor, and other goods fell loudly to the floor, but the noise they made was nothing compared to Nichessa’s ragged breathing.
Her entire face was red with rage. Her metallic fingers gouged into my skin as she adjusted her grip on my neck, hefting me off the ground.
“You don’t get to say that,” she spat, “I am not just some broken, discarded thing you can fix!”
I tried to placate her, to take back the stupid, insensitive words I had uttered, but it was no use. Every time I tried to talk, she tightened her grip, her knuckles pressing against my throat.
“Let him go.”
The command was laced with power, making the walls of the room shake. Vexile wrapped a tail around Nichessa’s ankles, and she placed a hand on the larger woman’s shoulder.
“We were wrong,” Vexile said, her words still resounding, “but you have no right to take out your fury on us like this.”
Nichessa suddenly released her hold on me, letting me slip to the floor. She stepped back, out of Vexile’s grip, and stared at us with a mix of anger, resentment, and embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” I coughed, regaining my voice. “What I said was foolish and wrong. But my sentiment remains the same; you are a striking, strong, and intelligent woman, and I would be honored to have you as my queen. You have already helped the people of Gloomglow so much, and though you might deny it, you felt like you had a place there.”
She stormed off, heading outside, leaving us alone next to the cold, empty forge.
Unsure what to do, Vexile and I elected to stay the night. We had warned Garnet we might not return that evening. Nichessa’s home was several hours away from the camp, and we were still wary of moving at night, lest we trip into a Luminark patrol.
Using what we had carried, rather than breaking into Nichessa’s supplies, we spent an uneasy evening sleeping in the forge room. When we awoke the next morning, we heard noises coming from the inner room, indicating that Nichessa had returned during the night.
She came out of her private chamber a few minutes later. She scowled upon seeing us but said nothing else.
I tried to formulate something to say, but I just shook my head.
Nichessa was apparently of the same mindset. “Just save your words. I still intend to help you liberate the camp. But after that’s done, I don’t want to see either of you or anyone from Gloomglow again. Got it?”
I reluctantly nodded, glad that she was still helping us after the night before.
She was wearing a metal cuirass, black with soot and grime. On her back was strapped a massive warhammer, obviously customized for her strength and stature. I imagined she could crush an armored Luminark trooper easily with a single swing of such a weapon.
“Last night,” she said, paused, then continued. “While I was out clearing my head, I saw some lights further to the south. I think the Luminark have opened a new mine, at the very edge of the foothills. Before we return to your camp, we should check it out.”
With nothing left to say, we packed up and headed towards the new mine.
“Move it, you dregs!” shouted the man on the dodo, the bird scratching furrows into the dirt. “We’re heading back to the main camp! Anyone who lags gets left out here to die of thirst!”
We were perched atop of a small cliff, several meters above the heads of the Luminark troops. They were ordering prisoners out of a newly excavated tunnel, which cut steeply into the earth.
There were at least fifteen troopers, with five of them mounted on birds. The others stood as a wary cordon, half facing outward, watching for threats, the others looking inward, menacing the prisoners as they assembled outside. Crawlclaws, their backs laden with equipment, nervously snipped their pincers at the two drivers trying to keep them in line.
“What a fucking waste of two weeks,” one of the mounted troopers grumbled. “The boss promised us a bonus if we brought something good back, but instead we’re coming back with nothing.”
“Less than nothing,” his companion cursed. “We lost two men down in that fucking hole.” More quietly, he said, “It was that damn dragon, I’m telling you. The second we found that opening into the old caves, things started just going wrong.”
“I’m g
lad I’m not going back down there again,” one woman said superstitiously. “I was there when they vanished. One minute, those two were behind me, all of us marching towards the surface, and then swoop, they were gone.”
All of the troopers were on edge, but tellingly, nobody told the man complaining about dragons to shut up. Even the leader, an older woman mounted on the back of a grizzled bird, seemed ill-at-ease.
“Sergeant, what should we do with the tunnel?” one of the guards stationed by the mine entrance called.
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Just leave it. The next earthquake will probably do the work of caving it in for us.”
The troopers formed up around the prisoners, who were a dirt-stained, exhausted-looking group, most of whom appeared to be only a few years younger than me. Their eyes were vacant and without hope.
Each of them carried their own gear; a mix of picks, shovels, buckets, and other mining equipment. Their shoulders were slumped, and they shuddered in fear the second a Luminark guard looked their way. They were malnourished, and I could see scars, burns, and other signs of torture written large across their bodies.
“Move out!” the sergeant called, kicking her mount. “I want to be back at camp before dinnertime. Maybe if you dregs are lucky, you’ll get to eat too!”
Snapping a whip, she got the line moving.
Chapter 18
We silently watched the group depart. Once again, we weren’t able to do anything for the prisoners. But I knew a time was coming, and soon, where we’d be able to do something about their plight.
And we’d be able to punish the cruel bastards who had been keeping watch over them.
Any objections I had about killing people seemed to have evaporated upon seeing such casual cruelty and disdain for fellow human beings. The Luminark guards truly saw their prisoners as less than human, and thus themselves did not qualify for humane treatment when the time came.
Vexile, likely thinking the same thoughts I was, watched them leave, her eyes fixed on the sergeant with unveiled hatred. Nichessa stayed silent, but I could almost feel her anger, like smoldering coals, radiating around her.
“What should we do?” Vexile said once the Luminark were far enough away.
I glanced down at the mine entrance, then unrolled and consulted our maps. “Nichessa, isn’t there a spur of the cavern system around here?”
She looked over my shoulder, then nodded. “Yeah, an old, underground river, long since dried up. I explored it as a possible route when I was looking for an escape route but found it was a dead end.”
“Let’s investigate, then head back,” I said, slowly getting up, making sure that we were truly alone.
Skirting down to the base of the cliff, it was clear that the Luminark had been camped there for a while. There were several sooty pits, the remnants of campfires, and bits of garbage and litter were scattered everywhere.
Nichessa headed over towards a large mound of churned-up earth, which sat near the mine entrance. She dug through a bit, then pulled out a dirt-encrusted object. Dusting it off, she revealed it was a broken pick; the sharp point had snapped off, leaving just the hooked bill on the other side.
“Lazy bastards,” she grumbled. Returning to the pile, she came back with several more broken tools, all of them discarded along with the earth excavated from the mineshaft.
Soon, we had a small bounty of scrap resting at the blacksmith’s feet.
“They don’t repair anything?” I wondered.
The amount of material that Nichessa had casually pulled from the dross heap easily outweighed all the metal tools we had back in Gloomglow.
“No, why would they?” Nichessa replied. “For them, it’s easier just to dump a broken tool or piece of equipment, rather than hauling back to their base, melting it down, and then reforging it.”
Most of the items were made from black iron, but we also found things made from mundane iron, copper, and bronze. All of it went into the salvage pile.
“But this stuff is valuable, right?” I picked up a broken shovel. The shovelhead was fine, only the wooden shaft had broken. “Sanderson is going out of his way to have contraband black iron goods made and sent back to the empire, why just throw this all away?”
Nichessa shrugged. “It’s only valuable if it’s turned into something in demand, like dining room sets, bracelets, or fancy letter openers. The military consumes most of the black iron produced, leaving little for civilian use. That makes it a status item for the rich and powerful.”
It all seemed incredibly wasteful to me, but it was clear that Sanderson was glut with resources. Likely the only limitation on his operation was how much contraband he could ship safely.
Nichessa pulled a tarp out of her bag, along with some rope, and she bundled the scrap together so she could haul it back to her forge. As she did so, I turned towards Vexile.
“Do you sense any movement in the mine?” I asked.
Closing her eyes, her tail muscles relaxed as she concentrated on feeling any vibrations moving through the earth. “No, I’m not sensing anything moving down below. It looks like they really just up and left.”
I pulled a torch from my bag, then lit it with my flint and tinder. From what I knew, Vexile and I didn’t actually need it to see, but Nichessa would.
“Let’s go check it out then. If it really does connect to the cavern system, we might have found our way into the Luminark mines.”
The air grew cold as we moved underground. Lumber, likely harvested from Marshul, had been used to brace up the walls, which had been hewn by hand. Here and there I was surprised to find signs of fire, the air still reeking of smoke.
“Fire-setting,” Nichessa explained when I stopped to puzzle over a large burn mark. “When the miners encounter a rock they can’t break, they set a small fire at its base. When the rock is hot enough, they quench it with water, causing it to become brittle and crack.”
I looked at the low ceiling, which was streaked black. “Sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” she confirmed, “smoke and fire is one of the greatest dangers someone can encounter while underground. Most of the deaths in the mines don’t come from cave-ins or falls, but from suffocation, when a burn runs out of control, or when the bellows that are supposed to circulate air stop working.”
We found the dead body not much further in.
It was an older man, his wispy beard streaked with dirt and grime. Someone had placed him in a small side chamber, resting his hands over his chest and closing his eyes.
“Died while working,” Nichessa said sadly. “I’ve seen it before. The old will suddenly drop dead, their hearts giving out right in the middle of swinging their pick.”
Vexile looked heartbroken, and I shared her pain. The man had likely spent his entire life in bondage, working in these mines or some other Luminark prison. I gently placed my hands over his, noting how cold and waxy his skin felt.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, “we didn’t make it in time to help you, but I swear we will save the others.”
We debated for a moment about moving his body, but we decided to leave him where he lay. Someone had put him to rest there, and it seemed wrong to disturb him. Instead, Nichessa produced another tarp, and we draped it over him.
“Rest well,” I told him, as we headed deeper into the mines.
The earth continued to veer downward, and I could see drops of water and condensation running down the walls.
“Flooding is a major problem in mining, especially this close to the ocean,” Nichessa lectured, “the camp’s main mines are serviced by water pumps that run all day and all night to keep them from flooding.”
“What would happen if the pumps stopped?” I asked.
“A lot of people would drown,” she answered plainly.
Suddenly a gust of frigid, damp air blew up the shaft, almost extinguishing my torch.
Nichessa sniffed the air, “Yeah, they must have accidentally punched their way into
the cave system. Follow me.”
The tunnel split at that point, the miners having ventured out in multiple directions, looking for ore veins. Taking the right split, the blacksmith carefully led us down a narrow tunnel, which abruptly terminated in a gaping hole. The cold air blew up from below.
“This is it.” Nichessa took the torch and carefully lowered it, revealing a smooth, cavern floor only a few meters below.
I peered down with her. “This leads back to the Luminark’s mines?”
“I think so. I’m pretty sure this is the same dried-up underground waterway I explored before. If we follow it, it should connect to the mine.”
“How far?”
She scowled, thinking. “Likely a few hours walking.”
I stood back up. “Let’s get back to our camp and see what Garnet and the others have found. Depending on their results, I might suggest we relocate our base of operations to this location.”
It was approaching dusk when we returned to our camp. We found Garnet and her soldiers clustered around the fire, their expressions dark and haunted.
“Dark Lord!” the young soldier jumped to her feet as we approached. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”
“What happened?” I asked her, feeling uncertain and concerned.
One of the other soldiers shuddered, pulling her blanket closer around her shoulders. The others got even closer to the flames, like the light and warmth were the only things holding them together.
Garnet swallowed nervously, her voice tight. “We were returning here when we spotted a large bonfire in the distance, on top of the tallest hill outside of the camp.”
A sliver of dread stabbed at my heart. “What did you see?”
She couldn’t meet my gaze. “It’s best if I just show you, Dark Lord.”
The four of us crept out of camp. Nichessa and Vexile guarded our rear, watching for any stray patrols, while Garnet guided us towards whatever nightmarish sight had impacted her and her soldiers so badly. In the distance, I could see a huge, savage light glowing from a large, flat hilltop.
We made our way over the rugged ground silently, sticking to the deepest shadows and roughest paths. My skin prickled, like someone was stepping on my grave, and my head swiveled at the slightest sound.