From Under the Mountain

by Cait Spivey

  But she had other work to do.

  She slipped away from the square and down one of the side roads, ducking and weaving through the crowd. The old prison tower loomed over the buildings surrounding it, its circular, grey stone form contrasting the rectangular homes with their painted facades. The tower was set back from the street, as if to hide itself. A short path provided access. It was private, intimidating, and long forgotten. The thief queen doubted that Arginine and Alanine’s neighbors even realized they were there, which was so much the better for them; it wasn’t like First Families to suffer outsiders, even if they were witches.

  If you’re arrogant enough, ain’t nothing scares you, Bridget thought. She crouched and ran down the path. The tower had windows only on the first floor, and those were too high and too small to afford much view of the outside. This made it easy to sneak all the way to the door, but she was still wary. One thing she’d learned being a thief: humility could save your life. The moment you overestimated your abilities was the moment you got caught.

  She stopped just short of the tower wall and stood still for a moment. She had not been a good witch, though perhaps starting at such a young age had skewed her understanding of her own power. She’d shown signs of power almost from the womb, and as the magicked child of a witch, she had been kept, reared in Sitosen Castle with high expectations on her. She officially claimed her gender early and started her training at a mere three years old, in a class separate from the nine-year-old human-born witches. But those sparks of magic in baby Bridget had proven to be almost all she’d get. Bridget had lagged behind her classmates from the beginning and felt restricted by the rigorous schedule of the Castle. She ran away at six years old and made her way south, but not alone. Her mother, Tesla, had followed her in secret. Tesla made sure she arrived in the capital safely, saw her to people who would take care of her, and left a few spellbooks for her to use when she was older.

  One of the things Bridget had learned from those books was how to spot a ward—and get past it. She cupped her hands around her eyes to block out the summer sun and peered at the wall. Magic was visible as light, and it was only the extremely talented witch who could hide that light completely. She squinted, and then she saw it: the tell-tale shimmer of a magic alarm line.

  Not many people in Del used such magical alarms, but the ones who did were always the wealthiest and the greediest, the only ones obsessed enough with their gold to brave the witches. There was something familiar about the Maravillas’ ward; they’d likely been providing security services to Dellian citizens since their exile. Lucky for Bridget. It would make getting through much easier.

  She closed her eyes and held her palms just in front of the ward, then chanted softly. The best way to get through a ward was to make yourself part of it, so she duplicated the parameters of the spell and surrounded her body with them. The ward was simpler than she expected, relatively void of the traps typically employed. The Maravillas didn’t expect magical company, it seemed. But the ward was programmed to recognize certain individuals, including none other than Lady Evadine Malise. Bridget raised an eyebrow and filed that away for later exploitation.

  Once her ward-suit was finished, she moved carefully up the front stairs. There were no additional spells on the door, another surprise. There were some lock spells that would expire when the caster died—did that mean the twins were dead? It seemed unlikely. Thiymen would have known, and there would have been no reason to suspect the twins of damaging the curtain between worlds. Once a living thing was dead, it could not come back on its own. It had to be brought . . . or sent. Had something sent the twins back?

  Bridget shook her head. Her job was not to speculate. She was not a witch any longer. She was just helping her old friend Desmond.

  She opened the door and shut it carefully behind her. No explosions; that was a good sign. She kept her ward-suit up, just in case, and surveyed the room—a common area by the look of it, with lounges and tables, a few books scattered about. Stairs going down on the far side of the room, probably down to the kitchen and stores. Stairs immediately to the right of the entranceway, going up. Bridget went up.

  The next floor was a bedroom, lined with bookshelves. Two desks also stood in the center, covered with more books, papers, and magical instruments.

  “Definitely witches living here, then,” Bridget said. She glanced at the books open on one of the desks. It looked more like a journal than a proper book. The lines were uneven, sloping, and the writing varied in size and slant. The pages were yellowed and wrinkled. She couldn’t read the words, though whether that was because it was another language or merely poor penmanship, she couldn’t tell. Probably both.

  A horn blew outside. The sound was muffled by the thick stone walls, but Bridget felt it vibrate in her ears through the ward-suit. That was interesting. It seemed to be a recognized sound, an acceptable one.

  Then someone knocked on the door.

  Bridget cursed and dove under the bed. Thank Lisyne for ornate bed skirts.

  The twins went to their usual clearing in the Orchid Vale and prepared in their usual way; but when they opened the tear to the underworld, something unusual happened.

  “Look at this, Alanine,” Arginine said.

  Her sister got up from the stump where she usually sat and waited. There was a brighter purple light than usual playing over the edges. It jumped back and forth across the opposite sides of the rip, almost as if it was forming some kind of netting over the opening. Arginine stuck her hand through the tear experimentally. She could still pass, but she winced and pulled her hand back.

  “It’s like little jolts of hot energy,” she said. “Fiona’s put some kind of new seal on it.”

  The sisters looked each other in the eye, debating through a series of squints and eyebrow raises whether they should continue their attempt that morning or wait for the seal’s energy to die down. A rumble coming from the other side of the rip distracted them. They leaned down. Through the tear, they could see what appeared to be swirling black smoke. As it moved, they caught glimpses of a half-formed face, winking at them from the blackness.

  “You are the twins,” the thing said. “You are difficult to tell apart, even down to your souls.”

  The sisters exchanged glances again. They could feel the energy the thing put off raising goosebumps on their limbs and setting their hair on end. They would have to be careful in speaking with it.

  “You know us,” Alanine said. “Should we not also know you?”

  “In time,” it said. “I bring you useful tidings.”

  “Oh?” Arginine raised an eyebrow. Alanine frowned at her harsh tone, but the thing in the underworld only made a high rumbling that sounded like laughter.

  “Oh yes,” it trilled. “Would you like to hear my news?”

  The smoke rolled over onto itself. Arginine got the distinct impression of a fat, diabolical cat dangling cheese in front of a mouse.

  “Yes, by all means tell us,” she said.

  “Then I shall. Fiona is dead!” it replied in a deep, satisfied boom.

  Arginine’s eyes widened, and she turned to find Alanine looking at her with the same expression. They knew Fiona was old, but her dying was the last thing they had expected. How did this affect their plans? At first, it seemed like a blessing—but was it really? Arginine wasn’t so sure. Far from removing an obstacle, it was more likely to alert the other Kavanaghs to the problems Fiona had been dealing with; problems caused by the twins. But, on the other hand—

  “The dragons!” Alanine whispered.

  “Yes!” Arginine said.

  The greatest challenge to enlisting the help of a dragon was the tribe’s unswerving loyalty to Fiona. With Fiona gone, their allegiance was ripe for the taking.

  The sisters whirled away from the tear and pulled their sails out of the small bags on their belts. They held the fabric out before them and spoke the incantation of flight. They launched into the air, bursting through the trees,
and pointed their hands toward the east.

  In the clearing below, the tear remained open. Small tendrils of smoke tested the edges.

  Arginine and Alanine blasted through the sky. They lay flat on their stomachs, both hands wrapped around one end of their sail and held out in front of them. The yellow fabric of the silk sails fluttered open beneath them. Flying at such speed was painful and took more energy than usual, but they had to reach the East soon or risk losing the opportunity that had been presented to them. They didn’t speak—it was impossible to be heard while in flight—but each was fairly sure of the other’s thoughts.

  The sun arced away from them as they traveled, and it was high in the sky behind them when they approached the Zaide Mountains. They changed course and headed northeast. The Caves of Purvaja were a gaping black hole in the side of the mountains, wide enough for four fully grown dragons to take off in unison and tall enough for them to stand at their full height.

  The Maravilla twins pointed their hands at the cave opening. Then, something flashed off to their right. They glanced quickly in that direction, but it was gone. There was another flash to the left; one below; one above. They paused in their flight and hovered there, their sails billowing under them. The moment they did, their ears were assaulted by high keening wails and deep bellowing moans. They winced against the sounds echoing off the rock face.

  It was the dragons, they realized. The dragons were out in force, circling and diving at breakneck speeds, hurtling to the ground and then soaring up into the sky again. Some of them were simply flying in shaky circles, hitting rocks and trees jutting up from the mountainside, bursting right through the low clouds. It was as if they weren’t paying attention at all to where they were going.

  “They’re in mourning!” Arginine shouted.

  She frowned and glared down at the dragons, who had not noticed them at all. Their grief was making them absolutely worthless. The dragons were clearly unaware of their surroundings, half of them flying with their eyes closed, bumping into each other and crashing into the landscape. The brutes weren’t in their right minds, and would do Arginine and Alanine absolutely no good.

  The twins felt hot air blown on them from behind. They turned slowly and saw a black dragon of middling size behind them, beating its wings slowly to stay even with them. It had black eyes as well as black scales, and in the sunlight, its whole body appeared to be winking at them. It made a rumbling noise that sounded like familiar laughter.

  “You’re the one from the tear,” Alanine said.

  I am, the dragon said, its voice echoing in their minds.

  Arginine glowered at it. “Your news was worthless to us. The dragons are useless in this state.”

  I never said anything about using the dragons now that Fiona’s dead, the false dragon said.

  Arginine raised an eyebrow, intrigued. She glanced at Alanine. By the expression on her sister’s face, she could tell that the gentler half of their pair was disinclined to trust this . . . thing, whoever or whatever it was. But Alanine had always been more cautious, and it was always Arginine’s plans that got them what they wanted. Well, most of the time.

  “You have something else in mind?” she asked.

  The dragon turned its head to the side to look at them with one black eye, winking in the light. The curve of its jaw almost looked like a smirk.

  Follow me, the dragon said. It turned and dove toward the mountains. Arginine looked at her sister. Alanine mouthed the word no. Arginine shook her head and dove after the dragon-creature. A moment later, Alanine appeared out of the corner of her eye.

  They followed the false dragon to Thiymen Citadel, where a similar scene to the one at the caves was occurring. Everywhere on the battlements, black-clad Thiymen witches ran to and fro, wailing and pulling at their hair and clothes. The grief was palpable. Arginine could see with a glance at Alanine that her sister was moved by it, but to Arginine it represented an opportunity. The dragon looked back at them with its winking eyes, and for a moment, Arginine felt a kindred spirit in it.

  Banished yellow witches do not belong, the false dragon said.

  Understanding its meaning, Arginine and Alanine each waved a free hand from their heads down toward their toes. As they did, their yellow dresses and sails became black, and their fair hair became even whiter. Now they would blend in with the black-dressed, white-haired Thiymen witches, though Arginine wondered if they would have been noticed even in their brightest yellow gowns under the current circumstances.

  They touched down on a balcony, and the dragon changed into a young woman dressed in black, with pale blonde hair like that of the twins. It smirked at them with red lips, lifting a slim white finger to make the signal for silence. The twins nodded; the girl-dragon-creature turned away and set off down the halls of the citadel at an alarming pace. Arginine and Alanine strove not to break out into a full-on run to keep up with the thing they were following.

  After several minutes of winding through passages, deeper and deeper into the mountain, the Maravillas were well and thoroughly lost. How the Thiymen witches knew their way amongst so many identical tunnels was beyond them. They kept pace with their guide at all costs, feeling sure that if they lost it, it would not come back for them. Occasionally, it flipped its hair and giggled in its strange way, the blood-red lips the only color in its face besides its solid black eyes.

  They arrived finally in a massive cavern. At one end was a thick sheet of black rock that seemed to be separate from the rest of the cavern walls. It was blacker than any black the twins had seen before, and it was buckled and rippled as though it had barely survived an earthquake. There were great slashes and hand prints showing through, and the marks of fingernails scratched at its base. Even from thirty feet back, the twins could feel the pull of the underworld coming from the other side. This, they realized, was the gate—the physical seal placed on the world under the mountain.

  The thing in girl’s form scurried right up to the wall and turned to look at them, leaning against the black rock with a manic grin on its face.

  “I’m so glad you’ve come!” it said in a high, fair voice. It sounded like strange, atonal music and echoed through the cavern. A chill ran down Arginine’s spine. Alanine paled beside her.

  “Be not afraid. I have brought you here because we can help each other,” the thing said. “I will tell you the secret of the energy in the underworld, and how you can harness it. I will also help you overthrow these Kavanagh sisters you so despise.”

  “And what must we do for you?” Alanine asked quietly.

  The thing smiled sweetly at her and spread its arms wide.

  “Open the gate,” it said.

  “What?” Arginine asked. They barely knew how to open tears; to open the gate itself was surely beyond them.

  “Oh, it’s not as difficult as all that. Why do you think it’s so closely guarded? Anyone could open it!” the thing trilled. “All you must do is make a tear. Just like the dozens upon dozens you’ve already made.”

  “Just a tear?” Alanine asked.

  “Yes. Only it must be close to the wall. I will take care of the rest,” it said. “Come close, now.”

  Arginine and Alanine looked at each other. Again, Alanine pleaded silently for Arginine to say no, but again Arginine shook her head. Yes, this thing was obviously strange, but it had not yet led them astray. It was offering to help them with their goals, and in their position, Arginine thought it would be foolish to turn down such an offer, especially now that the dragons were of no use to them. Their time had run out, and this was their best option.

  Arginine walked forward, closer to the wall. After a moment, Alanine followed her. It was difficult to approach. The tugging from the other side felt like claws hooking into their skin, making long, dragging scratches that burned. But they persevered, and finally stopped a few feet from where the girl-creature was leaning against the gate.

  It eyed them hungrily. “Good. That’s it. Now, open the tear.�
�

  Arginine raised her left hand, and Alanine her right, and together, they focused their energy on a single spot in front of them, marked by their index fingers. Purplish light crackled at their fingertips and they drew a line in the air toward each other, their fingers meeting between them. Where their fingers passed, the purple light separated and exposed the world under the mountain. The tear expanded rapidly, getting wider than any they’d made before. It seemed to be barely in control of itself, and when they connected each end, and the tear was completely open, Arginine and Alanine jumped away.

  Behind the tear, the girl-thing seemed to have fused into the black rock that made up the gate. It struggled and groaned and pulled against the imprisonment. Its girlish voice descended into the rumbling tone they’d heard from the first meeting as it strained and made all kinds of unearthly noises.

  At the edges of the tear, the purple light flashed; with each flash, there was a corresponding groan in the rock. The creature’s roaring got louder as the flashing increased. Arginine and Alanine inched backward warily. Arginine avoided meeting Alanine’s eyes. She was sure there would be accusation there.

  The purple light cracked like lightning, illuminating the entire cavern. Rock slid on rock with a horrible screeching. The twins blinked furiously through the spots in their eyes. A giant crack split the gate, running diagonally up from where the creature still struggled. It shifted ever so slightly, and larger and larger chunks of rock came falling down from the severance line. They crashed to the floor and shattered, then dissolved into the black smoke that was always visible through the tears.

  There was another blast of purple lightning. A second fracture appeared in the black rock, and the entire gate began to tremble. The creature’s roaring mixed with the wind rushing around and around the cavern. It pulled insistently at the twins’ hair and clothes. They sank to their knees and huddled next to each other as the smoke surrounded them.