Beneath the Canyons

by Kyra Halland

  By the heavy sense of cold, dark malice, strong enough that he could feel it even with his power shielded, he knew that the ore Carden sought, and Carden himself, lay farther down the tunnel. At length, a sharp whiff of urine reached his nose and he heard voices ahead. A faint orange glow appeared in the distance. After a few gentle bends in the passage, the light grew brighter, the smell stronger, and the voices louder. He recognized Lainie’s voice; though he couldn’t make out the words, it sounded like she was arguing with Carden. Some of the weight of worry lifted from Silas’s mind; she was still alive, and fighting.

  Silas moved forward silently until a cavern at the end of the tunnel came into view. He got as close as he could without revealing himself and looked in. The cavern was lit by a globe of orange mage light, darkened by the threads of black power twisting through it. Silas counted nine miners chiseling at the black ore that covered every surface of the enormous cave – more men than he had been expecting. Carden was walking a circuit of the cave, inspecting the growing piles of ore. His movements were nervous and jittery, and his increased power seemed to shimmer off of him like summer heat off of bare ground, only in waves of darkness instead of light.

  Lainie sat slumped against the wall to Silas’s left, cradling her right arm against her chest. She looked haggard, tired, filthy, and banged up. Her face was smudged with dark patches that might have been dirt or bruises or both. Anger swelled in Silas’s heart at the thought of Carden hitting her; he repressed the urge to go in right away, and went on observing the situation.

  Carden walked past Lainie towards the tunnel entrance where Silas was lurking, and she shot a look of pure poison at his back. With Carden facing away from her, she seemed to sit up a little straighter, and the expression on her face became more alert. Silas could see her glancing from the miners to Carden to the tunnel entrance, then back again – she was looking for a chance to escape. Neither Carden, nor the miners, nor the dark, heavy, malign power in the cavern had been able to extinguish her spirit, he thought admiringly. She was a long way from giving up.

  Again he was tempted to ditch his plan to take on the miners one or two at a time and just go in, gun and magic blazing, to get her, but he held himself back. It was too likely that she would get hurt in the crossfire. She had held on for this long; she looked like she had it in her to hold on a little longer while he did this right. He sent up silent prayers to the Provider and the Avenger for continued courage and strength for her, then eased his way a short distance back up the tunnel and settled in to wait for his first victim.

  Chapter 13

  LAINIE COULDN’T BEGIN to guess how long they had been underground. It could have been a full day, or even longer. She tried keeping track of how many times she counted to one hundred, but she kept losing count. Carden’s nervous intensity grew as he paced around the cavern, inspecting the growing heaps of ore and peering into the dark passages and chambers that opened off of the cavern. Lainie watched him and the other miners, hoping for one moment of inattention that would let her make a break for it, but it seemed like Gobby or another of Carden’s bootlickers always had an eye on her.

  The Sh’kimech clamored with excitement at this powerful weapon that had come into their possession. Though it was a relief to have most of their attention turned away from her, Lainie felt sick with fear at the thought of what Carden might do in their hands. At least she had been able to exert a little bit of command over them, but Carden refused to even realize that he was no longer in control of himself. “Carden!” she shouted.

  He scowled at her. “What?”

  “You think you’re controlling them, but you’re not. They’re controlling you.”

  Carden laughed. “Controlling me? Even if there is something alive in this ore, I’m taking its power. Seems to me I’m the stronger one.”

  “They’re allowing it. It’s just giving them more power over you. You’re going to be their weapon.”

  “I am no one’s weapon!” he roared in a sudden explosion of rage. “I work for myself and no one else! I’m going to take all this ore and take over a nice big rich chunk of the Wildings, maybe even all of it, and build up a kingdom as powerful as Granadaia. More powerful! I’ll make the blueskins into my own army. And then we’ll see who tells who what to do!”

  “That’s what they want,” she said slowly and loudly, wondering if it was possible to get through to him at all. “They hate everything that lives in the sunlight. They’ll use you and your strength to destroy the blueskins and everyone else.”

  “Bah.” He spat into the dirt next to her feet. “Just because you can’t handle the power in this ore, you think no one else can. Well, Miss Lainie, the difference between you and me is that I’m strong and you’re not.” He turned away and resumed his frantic pacing.

  It was no use trying to talk sense to him. He was far beyond sense and reason. The Sh’kimech had heeded her; could she make them give Carden up? Stop! she ordered.

  He welcomes us, Sister. He does not wish us to stop, he invites us in. Do not fear; we will not let him harm you, for you are ours.

  I don’t want him to hurt anyone else!

  Her plea went unanswered. The Sh’kimech were too delighted with their new weapon, like a dog with a new meat-bone. Desperately, she tried to think of a way to stop what was happening. Was there a limit to how much magical power one person could hold? Maybe if she just let him go on as he was, he might destroy himself with his own greed before he ever got the chance to carry out his plans. Carden stalked past her on his rounds of the cavern. Lainie glared at his back, imagining him exploding from too much power. The image in her mind was satisfyingly gory.

  She would have to keep him from leaving the cavern. Or, if he did make it back up to the surface, were there mage hunters who might be able to stop him? Maybe some of these other mages Mr. Vendine had told her about, who had vowed to protect the Plain settlers? Or the settlers themselves; a few of them would be no match for Carden, but could an army of them beat him? She remembered Mr. Vendine’s story about a hundred enraged settlers chasing three mages back through the Gap. Or maybe an army of blueskins? If she could make it out of the cavern herself, she could spread word of how dangerous he was…

  “Hey, boss?” Mooden said after what might have been another two hours or five. “Shouldn’t those other fellas have come back by now?”

  “Don’t be stupid, it’s a long ways down to the carts,” another miner, a skinny, faded-looking man with a sour face, answered.

  “I know, but we’ve taken two breaks and worked awful long times in between. I think we’ve dug more ore since the boys left than they took out. I’m ready for a turn to get outside for a bit. I’ve still got the cold creeps from bein’ down here.”

  Carden stopped pacing and peered into the tunnel. “You’re right. They’ve been gone too long. Bastards probably made off with my ore. Teebers and Mooden, go on up and look for them.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Carden,” the skinny miner said.

  “What if there’s blueskins out there?” Mooden asked.

  “Shut up,” Teebers said. “Do you want to go or not?”

  “All right. But let’s not wander too far.”

  “If they’re up there lazyin’ about, tell them to get their asses back down here,” Gobby put in. “And you fellas come back with them.”

  “Since when is you the boss?” Teebers grumbled as he and Mooden gathered up some provisions and their water bottles. The two miners disappeared into the tunnel leading up out of the mountain. Lainie watched them go, wishing with all her might she was going with them.

  * * *

  THE SOUND OF footsteps and voices came to Silas from lower down the tunnel. He stood, stiff from crouching in one place for what must have been hours, and pressed himself close against the wall. “Thought the boss was going to keep us down there for the rest of our lives,” a man said.

  “He won’t really keep us down there that long,” a second man whined. “I mean, he
can’t. It ain’t allowed, is it? Besides, how much of that stuff does he need?”

  “You heard him, he wants to get really powerful and start his own kingdom out here in the Wildings. Make the blueskins fight for him. Think he means to start a war with Granadaia?”

  “Against all them wizards? Not even another wizard can be that strong. An’ you heard what the girl said. Those creatures that live in the ore, they want to use him to destroy everyone.”

  “Mooden, you turdbrain, ain’t nothing living in that ore,” the first man said. “People don’t live in rocks. It’s just got lots of magic power in it, that’s all.”

  “He’s been actin’ awful crazy –”

  There was a brief sound of scuffling. “Hey, watch where you’re stepping!” the first man shouted.

  “How can I watch when it’s so dark in here? Wish the boss had let us have one of those wizard lights of his.”

  The footsteps came closer, then the men walked right past Silas. After the long hours in the dark, Silas’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could see the two miners in the very faint traces of orange mage light that made its way this far from the cavern. Silas stepped up behind the men. A quick, silent blow to the smaller, skinnier man’s neck felled him instantly. Silas caught him as he fell and lowered him quietly to the floor of the tunnel, then caught up to the other man.

  “Teebers?” the remaining man, Mooden, said in his high, nervous voice. “You hear something? Teebers?”

  Silas threw his right arm around the miner’s neck, then slapped his left hand across the man’s mouth, smothering a yelp of surprise. Although Mooden was as tall as Silas and broader, Silas was faster, stronger, and more agile, and he quickly subdued the miner’s struggles. “If you’re quiet, you’ll live through this,” he whispered.

  The miner nodded frantically.

  While keeping the chokehold on his captive, Silas drew his gun and jammed the muzzle into the miner’s ribs. “Good. I’d rather not waste a bullet killing you. If you do what I say, I won’t have to. Now, you’re going to pick up that other fellow and come with me. I’ll take you to where the others are. And you’re going to stay there and behave yourself.”

  “Where are they?” the man whispered. “Are they alive?”

  “Most of ’em. Be quiet now. And don’t move or try anything.”

  The miner nodded again. Silas believed him; the fellow seemed too frightened to disobey. He took a couple of lengths of rope and a kerchief from his duster pockets, and bound and gagged Teebers. “Pick him up,” he ordered.

  Mooden hoisted the unconscious man across his broad shoulders, then, prodded by Silas’s gun in his ribs, he silently led the way up the tunnel.

  They emerged from the cave into the bright light of midafternoon. Large thunderheads covered the higher peaks of the mountains. The packs filled with ore that the other miners had brought out still lay scattered on the ground in the gully, but the bodies were gone. “Wh – what happened to the fellas that came up here?” Mooden asked.

  “The ones that are alive are in the custody of a band of blueskins. The ones that died, I suppose the blueskins buried them, or whatever they do with their dead.”

  “I heard they lay ’em out for the vultures an’ buzzards to eat,” the miner whispered, looking decidedly pale. “Listen, mister, I didn’t have nothing to do with taking the girl. I gave her some of my rations, an’ never laid hands on her.”

  “Good,” Silas answered. “That means I’ll tell the blueskins not to kill you and leave you out for the buzzards.”

  The miner turned even paler. Silas couldn’t help but feel a stab of pity for the poor terrified fellow. Then he suppressed it. Pity wasn’t going to get the job done, and pitying the wrong person could turn out to be a fatal mistake. “Come on,” he said. “I have a deal with them. They’ll let you boys go when I bring Carden to them.”

  “How do you know they won’t kill us anyway?” the miner asked as Silas started prodding him up the slope towards the top of the ridge.

  “From what I know, the blueskins value keeping their word. I’d say you’re safer with them than with Carden. As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

  Mooden gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  With Silas’s gun pressed against Mooden’s right kidney, they climbed the ridge, Mooden breathing hard under his burden of the unconscious Teebers. A short distance down the other side, they spotted the A’ayimat camp among the firs and pines. A smell of spices and roasting meat drifted over from the camp. Six or seven miners, most of them sporting bandages, were seated around a campfire, their feet loosely bound.

  Two A’ayimat men came over to meet Silas and his prisoners. “Here’s two more for you,” Silas said. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t kill them, or at least not the big one. Just keep them out of my way for now.”

  One of the men called out in the A’ayimat language, and another man came over and took Teebers from Mooden.

  “Hey, mister,” Mooden asked unhappily. “You sure about this?”

  “It’s okay, Mooden,” one of the other miners called from the campfire. “They ain’t hurt us yet, an’ the food’s good.”

  “See?” Silas said. “Go on.”

  Mooden went with the three A’ayimat to the cluster of other miners, and Silas followed them. The A’ayimat who was carrying Teebers dumped him unceremoniously on the ground. Mooden sat down on a log, looking resigned to the situation as an A’ayimat woman tied his ankles together.

  “You bring us the wizard, and we let them go, too,” said the A’ayimat man Silas had bargained with earlier, jerking his head towards Mooden and Teebers.

  “That’s the deal,” Silas said.

  Dobay was sitting up in the shade of a pine tree, his wounded leg bandaged. Banfrey lay next to him, eyes closed. His chest had been wrapped with long strips of cloth. They were both pale but resting easily, and they looked to be a safe distance away from death. “I got two more of Carden’s men,” Silas told Dobay. “Hey, Mooden, how many more men are still down there?”

  Mooden furrowed his forehead in concentration and moved his lips silently as he counted on his fingers. “Less me and Teebers? Seven, plus Carden.”

  That confirmed Silas’s own count. He figured he should eliminate at least four more miners to bring the odds comfortably within his favor and make the situation less volatile and dangerous for Lainie. With a farewell gesture to the A’ayimat, he headed back over the side of the mountain to the gully, then entered the cave again and made his way back down the tunnel.

  He took up his position several measures from the opening into the cavern. He didn’t have to wait long before three more miners, one right after another, came into the tunnel to relieve themselves. He knocked out each one, tied them up, hauled them out one at a time, and left them in the gully for the A’ayimat to find, or not. That left four miners including Gobby, plus Carden. Silas had a plan for attacking Carden, but he still hoped to reduce Carden’s numbers by at least one more before the renegade realized something was going on.

  When he came back from depositing the last of the three men in the gully, he took another peek into the cavern. Lainie was sitting in the same place where she had been before. She still slumped wearily against the wall of the cavern, but her expression was alert and thoughtful as her glance traveled among the remaining miners. Realization dawned on her face, then was quickly hidden. Damn, Silas thought, pride in her swelling within him. She was still hanging on, still looking for a chance to escape, even after all she must have been through. Hold on a little longer, darlin’, he thought. I’m coming.

  He moved back up the tunnel. With a little luck, he would get the chance to deal with one or two more miners before he lost the advantage of surprise.

  * * *

  TIME DRAGGED ON. Lainie’s hunger and thirst nagged at her. Her body ached from head to toe. The hard, lumpy wall and floor of the cavern made it impossible to find a comfortable position, and the maliciously eager presence of the Sh’ki
mech tore her thoughts to tatters. Still, she finally couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and she gladly let go of consciousness and all its discomforts and gave herself up to sleep.

  It seemed like no sooner had her eyes drifted shut than she jerked awake again. Something was different. She looked around the cavern, trying to figure out what it was. Carden still paced, his movements jerky and feverish. He had discarded his black suitcoat, and his white shirt was wet with large patches of sweat. The Sh’kimech were frantic in their excitement; he was almost entirely under their control, and was nearly ready to begin his – and their – bid for power on the world aboveground.

  The group that Carden had sent out to haul the ore down to the carts still hadn’t returned; neither had Mooden and Teebers. A miner headed into the tunnel, fumbling at the buttons of his pants.

  That was it. There were even fewer miners working than there had been before. Four, she counted, including Gobby. Lainie watched for the miner who had gone to relieve himself to come back. He didn’t.

  Were the miners deserting one or two at a time, along with the entire group that had gone out earlier? Some might have, but most had seemed too greedy, or too afraid of Carden, to run off. Or – was someone preventing them from returning to the cavern? Joy and relief rushed into her; maybe Mr. Vendine, or her father, or both, were out there, eliminating the miners a few at a time before coming in after her. Carefully, she schooled her expression and suppressed the thought so that she wouldn’t alert Carden, Gobby, or the Sh’kimech to the possibility that help might be at hand.

  And, anyway, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. It was just a wild guess, nothing more. Once there were few enough miners left, whatever the reason they were disappearing, maybe she could make a break for it.