The Magic Mines of Asharim

by Pauline M. Ross

  “You’re going to boil the lake? Now you’re really teasing me!” A flare of exasperation in his mind, although it didn’t show in his face. “Sorry. Go on, I’m listening.”

  He smiled. “It’s quite simple. If your flickers can drill holes through the rock – not all the way to the other side, but part way – then I can freeze the water inside. What do you think? It could work, don’t you agree?”

  I stared at him blankly. All sorts of irritated comments sprang to my mind, but I bit my lip. “I don’t quite understand.”

  “What happens when water freezes?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never seen water freeze.” He stared at me in astonishment. “There are ice rivers in the highest mountains, but I’ve never been there.”

  “Oh.” He looked chagrined. “Of course you haven’t. It was something I practised so much when I was in the Program, it just seems normal to me. Look, I’ll show you.”

  He scampered down the slope to the fringes of the lake, where patches of reeds grew. Pulling out his knife, he cut a stem and trimmed it before racing back to where I sat. He pushed the stem into a patch of mud, then arced water into it.

  “Now, watch this.” His eyes lost focus for a moment as he concentrated, and to my astonishment the water solidified and grew out above the top of the stem. “See?”

  I stretched a finger to the protrusion, snapping away when I realised how cold it was. My finger almost seemed to stick to it. “This is ice?”

  “Yes.” He melted it again, topped up the stem with water, and pushed a small stone into the top to seal it. “Now, watch again.”

  This time, there was no protrusion. Instead, the stem split apart from top to bottom.

  “Do you see?” he said eagerly. “Do you understand? When water freezes it expands. So, if we get your flickers to drill holes in this heap of rubble, allow them to fill with water and then freeze them – do you see what will happen?”

  I struggled to grasp it. “The ice will break the stone?”

  “In a way. With solid stone, it would crack. With a scree slope like this, it would just shift it, move it a little. With luck, it will be enough to start the whole slope moving. It’s worth a try, anyway. What do you say?”

  When you are out of possible options, even the craziest idea is worth trying. It was that or dismantle half a mountain, stone by stone.

  ~~~~~

  The first thing I discovered, when I set my flickers to work, was that I hadn’t needed to train them specially for this at all. They lived in holes in cave walls, so tunnelling into rock was something they all did as naturally as humans breathe or fish swim. It meant I could use all my flickers at once, and progress was rapid. They were so happy to be useful, the excited twittering in my head made it hard to think.

  Sealing the completed tunnels was not a natural function, however, so my trained flickers took charge of that.

  It was not all straightforward. Because the slope wasn’t solid, sometimes rocks shifted, collapsing the bore hole and squashing whichever flicker was tunnelling. They didn’t mind that, in fact they squealed with pleasure, but it took a while to excavate the tunnel again.

  We worked for three days, tunnelling, sealing, tunnelling, sealing. Zak decided where the holes should be placed. My role was only to communicate with the flickers and make sure they all got enough sunshine to replenish their energy levels. I sat like a queen on top of the mound, directing the activity below, while Zak strode about, measuring, calculating, planning. I was cold to my bones, sitting around up there where the sun was barely warm. At least the autumn rains were far off, although we heard thunder growling round the far peaks, and sometimes lightning flickering. Each day the water in the lake reached a little higher up the shore.

  When the light began to fail, we ate fish from the lake or rodents caught in snares, with whatever greens or roots we could find, and fruit or nuts picked from the bushes round our cave. Then we curled up together and kissed and made love with the gentle familiarity of established lovers. Like being married.

  Afterwards, lying in languorous contentment, we shared memories. He showed me his father or Hytharn. Once he showed me some of his life inside the Program. In return, I showed him my own father, and my husband. I even shared the terrible day when I’d killed them. We didn’t talk much, drifting softly into sleep together.

  Sitting beside our little fire each evening, as it flickered and spat from the dripping fat, watching Zak’s smiling face and glistening muscles, I wished we could stay here for ever. For the first time in an age, I was happy. I was with the man I loved with all my heart, and if he couldn’t give me his love, at least he was beside me, sharing his generous spirit with me. At quiet moments, I could look into his mind and see the good humour that welled up constantly, and the excitement as he talked about our progress, bubbling with energy. I could revel in his joy in life, which kept my own spirits high.

  Only when he thought of Hytharn was there sadness about him. Even so, he had nothing but good memories of his lover, and that too shone through. It was something I understood all too well. I’d never returned my husband’s deep love for me, but I’d had an affection for him, and he’d made me happy. Now I was in the opposite position, loving a man who offered only friendship.

  It was enough, for now. Perhaps in time he would come to love me as I loved him, but I could wait. For now, there was nothing in the world but the two of us. There was no past, no future, nothing but this task, this place, this time.

  ~~~~~

  Late on the second day, something pricked at the edges of my awareness.

  “We have company, I think.”

  Zak was alert at once. “Where? Close to us?”

  “No, some distance away. I think the far side of the lake. It may be the initiates.”

  “I daresay they won’t bother us. But perhaps we won’t light a fire this evening.”

  Late that night we saw lights dancing on the far side of the lake, and snatches of male laughter drifted across the water. But no one came near us.

  ~~~~~

  On the third day of work, late in the afternoon, Zak deemed that we had enough water-filled bore-holes to achieve our objective.

  “Shall we try it?” I said. “Will it take long?”

  “I don’t know.” For the first time since I’d known him, there was uncertainty in his mind. Then he glanced at my worried face and laughed. “Can you believe it? I haven’t thought at all about this moment – about the best way to do this.”

  “Oh, is that all? Then let’s go and bathe in the lake, have a leisurely meal and come back to the problem in the morning.”

  He agreed, but even so, he was uncharacteristically solemn all evening. “You do realise,” he said at one point, “that if I’ve got this wrong, I could bring half the mountain crashing down on our heads?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “For myself, no. I like taking risks. This is just a bigger one than usual. But I don’t want anything to happen to you. I have to be close to the water to change it, but I want you to promise me you’ll keep well clear.”

  “Not a chance,” I said cheerfully.

  “Allandra—”

  “No, don’t Allandra me. I won’t be dissuaded. It needed the two of us to attempt this, and whether it succeeds or fails horribly, we’re going to see it through together. Besides, if you’re concentrating on freezing water, I can be keeping watch.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Actually, that is a very good point.” He took my hand, gracing me with his heart-stopping smile. “Together, then.”

  There were more noises that night from across the lake. This time it was shouts and something clashing – spears, perhaps. The initiates were starting their lives as warriors in the Hrandish manner, by fighting.

  ~~~~~

  We were up at dawn the next morning. Neither of us ate much. We both wanted to get this over with, and find out once and for all what, if anything, we had achieved.

  Zak spent
some time walking about on the pile of rubble, working out the best place to start. He could only freeze one tube at a time, and there were hundreds of them, so it was crucial to get the sequence right.

  Eventually, he was ready. We took up our positions as close to safety as possible, but we were still far out on the mound. If it collapsed entirely, we would be swept into the lake. He took several deep breaths, not because his actions required much energy, but rather to steady his nerves.

  “Well. This is it.” Another breath. “I shall start from the point furthest away from us, so that we can gradually move back towards the cave. And I’ll work on the lowest ones first, because it will undermine the foundations of the heap. That seems the best way, to me.” A breath in, a breath out. “Shout the instant you see anything happening.”

  His eyes lost focus. I waited, all my senses stretched to detect any faint signs of movement away on the furthest edge of the slope. There was nothing, no sound, no movement. Of all the outcomes I’d considered, it had never crossed my mind that all our efforts might be a waste of time, producing no change whatsoever.

  Still I waited, holding my breath.

  I felt, rather than saw, the first effects. Deep under my feet the ground trembled. It was the slightest quiver, no more, but I had no doubt that something was happening at last. But where? I could still see no movement. Not a single pebble rolled down the slope.

  The trembling strengthened. I’d chosen a solid rock to stand on, but it began to shake.

  Then the noise began, a deep rumbling as if the very earth were growling in displeasure at us.

  As I watched, the far side of the slope began, with infinite slowness, to move. Not one pebble, not a few, not even a great many of them – the entire slope started to inch downwards towards the lake.

  The rock under my feet wobbled alarmingly.

  I shook Zak’s arm. “Run! Now!”

  He stared at me, bewildered, his mind still far underground. Then sudden understanding. He stared around in horror.

  “Quick! Run!” I yelled.

  We ran. The stones shifted under our feet, so that we slithered down the slope as much as across it. Zak grabbed me by the wrist and we tore along, but as fast as we went, the avalanche moved faster.

  Abruptly, we outran it. The ground solidified beneath us, and in moments we were on the shoreline, splashing through shallow water. We didn’t stop. Behind us a great roar impelled us forwards.

  “Up!” Zak yelled. “Higher up!”

  He was still clasping my wrist tightly, so I had no choice but to turn away from the lake. My legs were as wobbly as an spider, but he dragged me along at a rapid pace.

  Not rapid enough. Something as solid as a wall crashed into my back and knocked me flat. Water, churning all round me, over my head, choking me, drowning me. Pain jolting through me, my arms and legs battered by stones, as the water dragged me along. Then, just as quickly, the wave vanished leaving me gasping for breath, stranded like a starfish.

  As suddenly as it had appeared, the water receded. Footsteps crunched on the pebbles. “Are you all right? Allandra! Answer me, by all the gods!”

  “I’m… fine,” I croaked. I tried to move, but small, stinging things pricked at me. A thorn bush. Trying to disentangle myself, I only succeeded in tightening its fiery grip on me.

  I started to laugh. “By the One, that was… interesting! Word of the Empress, Zak, you don’t do things in a small way.”

  “You’re not hurt?” Gingerly he pried branches away from me until, soaked, scratched and dishevelled, I was free.

  “I’m fine.” I laughed again, exhilarated by our near disaster. “Very much alive, and not much damaged. You?”

  His lips quirked in response. “Less damaged than you. I thought you’d be terrified by all that.”

  “It was exciting! And we did it! We shifted the blockage.”

  “Come and see.” But the disappointment was written on his face.

  For all the fury of the avalanche, the vast slope had hardly moved. The outer parts had slid a little further into the lake, and part of the centre had dropped, to reveal a miniature lake, but the outlet to Mesanthia was still obstructed.

  We had failed.

  ~~~~~

  Our little fire had to be lit to warm us after our soaking. We had few spare clothes, so boots and cloaks were left to dry. I huddled over the flames, shivering, but Zak was soon restless.

  “I’m going to have a look at what we’ve managed to create, to see if anything can be salvaged.”

  “Take care. It will still be settling.”

  He nodded, but being careful wasn’t in his nature. In a way, that was part of why I loved him so much. Even at Brinmar, when he knew nothing of me and suspected me of being a spy, he’d been perfectly happy to join in my crazy plan to get past the Hrandish warriors. He’d gone to fetch the prince, too, when no one else wanted to go. The greater the risk, the better he liked it.

  I’d always been too much the opposite – running and hiding, when I should have stood and faced my enemies long ago. Now that I’d taken a less safe path, I was finding that it was more fun than I’d expected. It was just as well my father couldn’t see me now. He would have been horrified at the sight of his precious daughter marrying a barbarian, and grubbing around in the dirt trying to shift a wall of rock.

  When I’d dried off enough to face the cold mountain air, I tiptoed carefully on bare feet to the base of the slope. Zak was inching his way about, far more tentative than before. Even third or fourth step set off a little patter of stones, or an ominous rumble.

  I didn’t want to add my weight to the unstable mound. Instead, I began to climb the rocks near to our dragon cave. Beyond the fallen shoulder of mountain, the crater’s rim was clear of debris. Although it was steep, it wasn’t hard to climb, the stone worn smooth over many millennia. Even without my boots, I managed perfectly well.

  Below me, stones rattled and clattered as Zak moved about. Then, silence. Alarmed, I turned to look for him, but he was below me, climbing the rim as I was, although slowly, for him.

  I stopped, finding a convenient outcrop of smooth rock for a seat while I waited for him to catch up. When he arrived, he threw himself down on the ground, his face grey with pain.

  “Should have worn my boots,” he whispered. His feet were bloody and torn, ripped apart by the constantly shifting stony slope. “A healing flicker?” he said hopefully.

  It was the work of a moment to heal his injuries. Then I washed the blood and dirt away with water from my flask, and cut strips from my shirt to bind his feet.

  “There, that will get you back to the cave, at least.”

  “Thank you, sweet lady. I should have stayed on solid ground, as you sensibly did.”

  “What do you think, now that you’ve looked it over? Can anything be done?”

  He shook his head, hoisting himself upright and leaning against my legs. “All the bore holes we created have gone without trace, even the ones I didn’t freeze.”

  “Well, we can start again, surely? The flickers are still energetic enough.”

  Another shake. “The whole slope is too unstable. It could collapse at any moment, and take us with it.”

  “But we want it to collapse.”

  He laughed at that, his mood shifting as abruptly as the sun emerging from a cloud. “Indeed, and I am quite prepared to spend my life on that wretched heap of stones if it would guarantee the success of the enterprise. I would happily bounce around over there, if I knew it would be enough to bring the whole edifice down. But look what happened – it just shifted a bit, the outlet is still blocked, the middle is nothing but water, and the whole structure is too fragile to walk on. It’s all too uncertain. If we die yet still fail, everything will be lost. There will never be another chance. So, while we still live, we must look for another way.”

  From our vantage point, the stones looked so benign. Only the churned and muddy lake water, and the earthy smell of stones torn adrif
t, told the true story.

  “We have the flickers,” I said slowly, turning ideas in my mind. “We have fire. We have control over water. We must be able to do something with all that power.”

  He manoeuvred himself round to face me. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps we should just throw everything we have at the problem, and see if anything happens?”

  Zak laughed and shook his head. “Now you sound like my father. He always says there’s no problem so complicated it can’t be solved by hitting things with sticks. At the very least it makes you feel better. Right. Let’s try hitting that rockfall with sticks.”

  We tried. Zak froze as much water as his mind could reach. Sometimes he pulled water from the lake and hurled it at the slope. I threw flicker after flicker at the slope, dissolving one rock after another so they vanished in a puff of dust. Then I shot bolts of flame here and there. We worked until we had not a jot of energy left.

  None of our efforts made the slightest bit of difference. A few pebbles slid here and there, or a patch would settle a handspan lower. But the pile was no lower, and we were no closer to diverting water to Mesanthia.

  Silently we crept back down the slope and into the cave. It was still daylight, but we were too exhausted to do anything but wrap ourselves in our still-damp cloaks and sleep.

  ~~~~~

  I woke in the dark, abruptly alert, heart racing. What had woken me? At first, there was nothing. Then… there it was, flickering lightning outside, followed instantly by a crack of thunder. The rains had reached us at last.

  For a while I lay in the dark, safe and snug, as the wind howled and rain lashed the lake.

  But then… something prickled at the limits of my awareness.

  “Zak! Wake up!”

  “Hmnph? What is it?”

  “There’s someone coming.”

  We scrambled into boots, and disentangled cloaks.

  “How far away?”

  “Close now. Running.”

  Even above the fury of the storm, we could hear the shouting as he approached the cave.

  Zak strode towards the entrance and drew his sword.