The Magic Mines of Asharim

by Pauline M. Ross

  “Any! Pick one and… RUN!”

  16: The Tunnels

  We ran, diving through the nearest fissure and hurtling into the tunnel. I dared not look back, concentrating on following Xando’s disappearing back, but the sound grew and grew behind me, as if I had a dragon on my tail. The noise speared into my head until I couldn’t tell if it was me screaming or something else. And then—

  Silence.

  I stopped, waiting in the dark, gasping for breath. Xando must have got some distance ahead of me, for there was no hint of the lamp, nor could I hear him. I half expected the bloom to flow down the tunnel after me, but there was nothing. Then I wondered if I’d already been consumed by it, and didn’t know it yet. Like a soldier skewered by a sword in battle, who is effectively dead but hasn’t fallen down yet.

  Into the silence, pattering footsteps, someone panting. Then the wavering light of the lamp rounded a corner, with Xando’s ghostly face beside it.

  “You… all right?” he gasped. “What… happened?”

  “I’m fine. I think the bloom happened. But not to us.” I searched for the flickers in my mind. They were agitated, as they always were when we were distressed, but there was no sign of that blissful state, or of the pool pulling them towards itself.

  Xando took a deep gulp of air, exhaled again. “Maybe it only flows into the main cavern?”

  “Maybe. But the flickers aren’t drawn to it any more. It’s as if it just… went away.”

  “Shall we find out?” His grin, as the lamplight flickered across his face, was unreal, demonic. But I laughed at his enthusiasm. He was quite irrepressible.

  We walked back down the tunnel, Xando leading the way again. We hadn’t had time to mark the walls with chalk, but there had been no side tunnels, so there was no possibility of getting lost.

  “Surely we should be near—” I began, when Xando stopped abruptly with an “Oof!” followed by a rattle of words in his own language.

  “What is it?”

  “Dead end.”

  “It can’t be! We can’t have gone wrong, it’s impossible.”

  “We have not gone wrong. Look.”

  He raised the lamp above his head, and I peered round him. There in front of us was the curving outline of the fissure, but there was no opening, only solid wall across it, a wall that had certainly not been there only moments before. I put out a hand gingerly. It was cool to the touch, like glass, but not quite smooth, rippling under my fingers like water, or perhaps like finely textured silk. It may have been my imagination, but I thought it shimmered a little.

  “Magic!” Xando said gleefully. It was hard to argue with him.

  “So now there is no choice. We cannot go back.”

  “We would hardly wish to.”

  “True.” Still, it cut off our line of retreat. Whatever we met in the tunnels, we couldn’t simply turn round and return the way we’d come.

  My years at the Academia still echoed within me, so that part of me wanted to stay, to investigate this strange new phenomenon. Whatever this magic was, did it happen every bloom-time, or was it just for us, to protect us? Would these walls vanish in a day or two, or would it take moons for them to disappear, or were they permanent? So many questions, and no way to answer them.

  We couldn’t stay, of course. We had to be far away before the bloom disappeared enough for the soldiers to follow us. So we turned and made our way at a more sedate pace back down the tunnel.

  ~~~~~

  We walked for hours. We passed no side tunnels, no caves, no branches. The passageway wound on and on, winding about this way and that, rising up an incline here, descending again later. Although we checked the navigation stone from time to time, and marked that we were heading east and then north and then perhaps west before veering back northwards, there was nothing we could do about it. If there had been any choices to make, we could have pointed ourselves more to the east. But there were none, so we walked on, and mostly to the north.

  It seemed to me that we were going downhill more than up. I began to wonder if we were heading into the bowels of the mountain, and perhaps, if we descended far enough, we might be trapped here in the rock forever, and never emerge into clear air. And then my curiosity bubbled up, and I wondered who – or what, perhaps – had built these tunnels, and for what purpose? Dragon tunnels would be much bigger than these. There were other creatures who burrowed in rock, but these symmetrically rounded roofs, with flat floors beneath, were clearly intended for men. Not miners, that was certain. But I could think of no plausible reason for them, and after a while, as I grew more and more weary, I ceased to care.

  My legs were filled with pain, every step a torture to me. Xando struggled onwards, head down, silent, the lamp held limply at knee height now. Eventually, without a word spoken, we stopped, flopping exhausted to the ground, backs against the smooth tunnel wall.

  After a while, Xando rummaged in his pack and produced a flask of water and some dried meat.

  “You want some cheese, too?”

  “No, save it. We don’t know how long this food will have to last us.”

  We drank and ate, and silence descended again.

  I wondered how long we’d been walking, and what was happening back at the mine, and whether they’d begun to implement my plan.

  The lamp guttered momentarily, and I scrabbled in my pack for another candle. Once it was lit and the flame steady, I breathed again. Fear of the dark was irrational, but the thought of being trapped in these endless passages without light was terrifying to me. Outside, the moon filled the world with light, while down here a single candle kept us from the nightmare of total blackness.

  “Can any of your flickers make light?” I asked Xando.

  “No. I wish I had thought of that. Even one who could turn into a glow-worm would have been useful here. But I have never before had such a need.”

  He reached out to take my hand, and his emotions washed over me – his fear, his hope and, burning like a flame, his love. It was such a comfort to be linked to him in that way. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

  “You know, Allandra…” His voice vibrated under my cheek. “Flethyssanya, I should say.”

  I chewed my lip. There was no harm in it, I supposed. “Sanya. I was called Sanya. But I think you had best forget that name.”

  I couldn’t see his face, but his voice told me he was smiling. “Thank you! I have told you my name, and now you have told me yours. In my culture, that is – very special. It means something.”

  “I know,” I whispered. To a Tre’annatha it would be a solemn commitment, but to me – I wasn’t sure. It meant I trusted him, certainly, but beyond that, I couldn’t say.

  “It is all right. I expect nothing from you.” He understood my hesitation, for my mind was completely open to him.

  He squeezed my hand, filled with love which spilled over to me. I couldn’t help but feel exactly what he felt, I had no way to defend myself. In truth, I didn’t want to defend myself against it. Few people had ever loved me in that unreserved way, but I revelled in it. He could love me as much as he wanted, and I would be happy to love him back.

  I tilted up my face and, with my free hand, pulled his head low enough for me to kiss him. For a moment he froze, and surprise was his dominant emotion. Surprise and, oddly, fear. But then he responded, oh so gently. It was not a passionate kiss between lovers, but then he wasn’t capable of that. Rather it was the soft kiss of friendship. Not that different from Rufin, really.

  When we pulled apart, I was giggly and slightly embarrassed, but he carried on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

  “I was about to say that your connection with fire should enable you to light a flame.”

  “Light the candle, you mean? I have tried to create a fire once or twice, but I was always afraid of the flames getting out of control.”

  “No, create a light in your hands. A glowing ball, not really flames. I have seen it done, a long time ago. H
e had a connection with fire, too, so if he could do it, I see no reason why you should not manage it.”

  He showed me how to hold my hands, and I tried, I really tried, but I couldn’t produce so much as a puff of smoke.

  I gave it up in frustration, and we got up and carried on.

  This time, we walked less distance before we gave up. Even Xando’s good humour was exhausted by now. The tunnel was endless, the darkness suffocating and we were now heading northwest, quite the wrong direction.

  We sat facing each other across the tunnel, sharing a little cheese and sips from the flask. The tunnel was cool and mostly level, so our need for water was not great, but we would need to be careful. Already the first flask was more than half empty, and we had only three more.

  My eyelids were drooping, so I lay down with my pack under my head. Within moments I was asleep.

  ~~~~~

  I woke to total blackness. For an instant, I panicked, thinking I was blind. Then memory flooded in and I forced myself to breathe deeply and calm down. The lamp had gone out, that was all. No cause for alarm. All I had to do was find the lamp and a new candle and the spark-stones, and relight it.

  I hauled myself upright, locating the tunnel wall by touch, and sat with my back against it. Another deep breath. Nothing to panic over. No reason to be afraid. Xando was here with me – I could hear his slow, even breathing.

  And the flickers – sitting there in impenetrable darkness, the flickers helped me relax. Their little minds soothed me, and brought me some comfort. Darkness was no bother to them. They felt no fear, just a gentle worry for me. And magic. Their magic fizzed in them, and although they were safely tucked away in my pockets, my mind could see the tiny pinpricks of colour coming and going.

  Magic. I had magic in me, too. They were encouraging me, I could tell that. I suppose the longer I had my flickers, the stronger the connection between us became, or perhaps their magic enhanced mine.

  I held my hand out in front of me, cupped as Xando had described, although I couldn’t see it. Then I imagined the ball of flame, in exactly the way I’d imagined what I’d wanted the flickers to do. There was a little burst of excitement from the flickers, and there it was – the faintest glow in my hand.

  The relief from the terrible darkness made me giddy with joy. Thank the One – I could see again. The glow wavered and dimmed, but I focused on it and brought it back, made it brighter. I was exultant – I could do it! It was easier than I’d thought. Instead of trying to force it out of me, all I had to do was to relax and imagine what I wanted to happen.

  Xando began to stir; I think the flickers’ excitement woke him.

  “Whassat? Oh! You did it!”

  I brightened the glow so that it filled the tunnel, as bright as day. Then I popped it out of existence to tip us into darkness again. Xando gasped, and I brought back a dim light that cast deep shadows behind him. I giggled. Such power was intoxicating.

  “You have got the hang of it. Well done. But be careful not to exhaust yourself.”

  I was exhilarated, nowhere close to exhaustion, but obediently I let him relight the lamp and then released my own light. We shared some bread and dried meat, both of us hungry after our rest.

  “How long did we sleep, do you think?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Who knows? Time has no meaning here.”

  “Will we ever escape from these tunnels?”

  “Of course.”

  I wished I had his confidence. Logically, something must have made these tunnels, but surely not for our purposes, as a way through the mountains. And we had gone downhill a great deal; that worried me.

  But still, we could not have been travelling long. We had left in the middle of the evening, and walked for several hours, at least, then walked for another hour or two. After that, we had slept. It must be the following morning by now, perhaps only twelve hours after we’d left. The sun would be shafting down into the little mining town, the extractors would be at work— But no, the bloom would keep them out.

  “They will have started the plan,” I said excitedly. “Now that the bloom has come, they will have begun.”

  Xando frowned. “I still do not like it. Telling armed men where you have gone is foolish.”

  “The key to any deception is to keep as close to the truth as possible. There is no harm in them knowing, since they can’t follow us for several days. Not safely, anyway. We have a good head start if they pursue us through.”

  “And if they walk around the mountain to wait for us on the other side?”

  I sighed. We had gone over all this. “They cannot get two hundred men, with horses and equipment, over those scree slopes and precipices. A few skilled climbers, perhaps. The rest will have to descend, for two or three days at least, then find their way back up by a different route. Or wait for us at the river. Assuming we make it that far.”

  He grinned. “Of course we will. This tunnel is very directed. It is going somewhere.”

  “Not necessarily outside, though,” I muttered.

  “But even if we are safe,” he went on, “Petreon is still at risk.”

  “Petreon will be safely hidden away in a cellar somewhere. It is Chendria who has to convince the commanders that he acted on his own in letting us escape, and that he is now dead and given to the pool. If they suspect her—”

  “Yes.” He hesitated. “But… we can do nothing to help her, Sanya. We must trust to the Spirit of us All to give her strength.”

  The use of my real name robbed me of the power of speech for a while, so I let the subject drop. Soon after, we moved on again, onwards and downwards.

  ~~~~~

  I was getting used to the tunnels by now, or perhaps my ability to produce light whenever I wanted made it easier to bear, but it seemed to me that we had hardly gone any distance before something changed. A subtle alteration in the air, perhaps. It felt fresher, as if we were approaching an opening to the outside. Eagerly I pressed forwards, taking the lead for the first time, although I said nothing to Xando.

  Then a disappointment. Another tunnel joined ours at a sharp angle. So that was where the air was coming from.We debated turning that way, but it felt like returning the way we had already come. Instead, we marked the way we had come with chalk in case we needed to go back, and carried on.

  Not long after, a second tunnel joined ours, also at a sharp angle. Then a third. Having not seen any branches at all, this sudden meeting of ways was curious. And all routes, it seemed, headed in the same direction.

  After that, we saw no more incoming passages, but the fresher air remained, invigorating us.

  Behind me, Xando stopped.

  I turned. “What is it?”

  “You do not see it? Ahead of us, down the tunnel.”

  I looked carefully, and at first I could make out nothing. Then I realised – it was glowing. Far away down the tunnel was a light.

  “The sun?” I asked eagerly. It was unlikely, for we had descended a great distance, and were still descending, but mountains can have caves and fissures at any level.

  “I think not. The flickers are attracted to it – although not like the blue water,” he added hastily, seeing my face.

  “Some other kind of magic, then?”

  “Possibly. I detect no hostility.”

  I wondered how he could be so sure about that. Who knew what creatures might live down here in the darkness, passing the aeons slithering about the tunnels in blind silence, knowing their way by feel or some sense we could scarcely imagine? How could we possibly understand their minds enough to determine how hostile they were?

  But we walked towards the light, trusting to the One, or Xando’s Spirit, or just blind luck, that nothing evil awaited us.

  It wasn’t evil, but I didn’t know what to make of it, all the same. The tunnel opened into a vast hemispherical cavern, the roof far above us, pulsing softly as it glowed. Beneath our feet, the floor was polished stone, mirror-smooth.

  And in
the centre, heaped erratically to the height of a great tower, many egg-shaped objects.

  “Dragon’s eggs,” Xando murmured in awed tones, walking straight towards them.

  “Wait!” I dashed after him, then dashed back again to mark our tunnel with chalk.

  Common sense reasserted itself. If these egg objects were dangerous, it was foolish for both of us to approach them at once. And there could be any number of traps for the unwary elsewhere in this enormous space. More sensible to survey the terrain, and see what else was to be found.

  I crept around the perimeter, finding four more entrances, symmetrically placed, and a set of metal structures like giant braziers, but nothing else. The whole space was empty, except for the eggs.

  Reassured, I cautiously followed Xando towards the eggs, pale green and glimmering in the soft light. They were as smooth and polished as marble, with symmetrical scales on the wider end. Xando was touching them, almost stroking them, moving from one to another and crooning, as he did for the flickers, his voice low. The flickers were interested, curious, perhaps, but not excited.

  “See?” He turned to me in glee. “We have found a dragon’s nest! Who would have guessed it?”

  17: A Way Out

  A dragon’s nest. Was it possible? Surely not.

  “Xando… Hyi…” He beamed at the use of his true name. “Whatever these are, they are certainly not dragon’s eggs. They are something else entirely.”

  He argued long and hard about it, and I could see why he believed it, but no dragon had ever laid these eggs.

  “But the size and shape!” he protested. “You must have seen one. Many people have them, or the shards. It is exactly like this. Touch one; it feels warm, just how the books describe it.”

  “The shape is too symmetrical. And this pattern on the outside—”

  “The overlapping scales, yes, yes! I have seen dragon’s eggs, I know what they look like.”

  “It is too perfect. Real eggs have a mottled effect, and the scales are all slightly different. And really, no dragon ever squeezed down these narrow tunnels. They choose natural caverns, enlarging or modifying them with their claws. They could never have made this perfectly round chamber.”