by Levi Samuel
Lifting his foot, Tylor began running through the exercises he’d been instructed to perform. The new brace was far superior to the one he’d made from scraps. It buckled around his knee, much the way his leather greaves had. But this provided just the right amount of pressure in exactly the right places. It aided natural movement, while prohibiting all others. While wearing it, the pain was nearly nonexistent. Though Tylor suspected that had something to do with the healer who’d come to see him twice so far.
She’d started with a paste that soaked into his skin. From there, she massaged the area, bringing full movement back to the joint. Tylor had been a bit nervous when she first arrived. These dwarves were nothing if not gruff in appearance. Even their women were broad and heavy built. But she’d had the gentlest hands he’d ever felt.
He was grateful for the comforts provided. The food, lodging, and accessories they’d received over the past week in the underground had all been wonderful. Even the city itself was beautiful. And life here was simple. But simple was another word for boring.
“Still hurting?” Inyalia approached the wall of columns overlooking the city center. Tylor had spent nearly every day since their arrival leaning against one pillar or another, silently watching the dwarves perform the tasks of their daily lives. To a degree, Inyalia could understand why. Being here and seeing it for herself, they all seemed so content. There were farmers and traders, craftsmen and scholars, nobles and peasants. In many ways, social life here was extremely similar to that of her people. Except these people lived underground.
“Not as much as you’d think.” Tylor finished his exercise and returned his foot to the stone floor. He felt a comfort in watching the life of the city. It was something he’d thought about frequently, but never taken time to do. There was always something more important that demanded his attention. But here, all he could do was wait. And in waiting, he discovered he was torn between a desire for action and that of a normal life. Tylor longed for whatever semblance of normal he could find in the outside world. But he was a wild elf. A normal life was something he could never possess.
Inyalia watched her friend and mentor for a long while. She knew he was growing restless. That was what had landed them here in the first place. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his system before they were captured. Even now, while they were no longer prisoners, they were restricted to the magistrate’s villa without an escort. It was grand, and plenty large. But they’d explored every inch of it within their first two days. There was a small forest, closer in size to the park of Camruun City, that had been Inyalia’s favorite place. She was fascinated that they’d been able to successfully grow surface trees in the undermountain. But with the right dirt, and the proper combination of glowcaps, they’d been able to replicate a suitable substitute for sunlight.
Inyalia stepped forward, taking position beside Tylor. Carefully, she bumped into his shoulder, breaking his focus on the distance.
Unprepared, Tylor stumbled, but he managed to catch himself. His gaze shifted to Inyalia, finding peace in her mischievous smirk. “What was that for?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were still mobile. You’ve been standing there most of the day.” Inyalia found the term amusing. She had no idea if it was day or night. Not even the dwarves seemed to know, having trapped themselves underground long before even her father’s birth. But they’d managed to maintain some trace of the surface world they’d left behind so long ago. A few hours after last meal, every public fire was extinguished. It didn’t do much for the glowcaps or the occasional villa using magical lighting, but it created enough darkness to feel like night. “Gailen will be here soon. Do you want to see if we can go for a walk after dinner?”
Tylor nodded, reclaiming his position against the ornate pillar. “That sounds nice.”
A false smile came to Inyalia’s lips. She was just as ready to leave as him. But she couldn’t deny that it had been nice learning about a people so different from her own. Turning away from the overlook, Inyalia made her way through the garden. The grass and manicured shrubs were a comfort she never expected to find in such a place. The dark green leaves blended perfectly with the robes she’d been given as replacement for her tattered clothing. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt clean. Her hair had been brushed free of all tangles and braided down the back. Were it not for the dark ceiling overhead, the undermountain held many qualities of home.
Entering the villa, Inyalia made her way past two of the house servants who were busy cleaning. She’d spoken to them a few times, but they rarely had anything to offer, save for complete agreement on all subjects, or the occasional deferment to their master. Inyalia had questioned their freedom a few times, but they insisted they were paid for their labors. Being unable to find fault, she decided it best not to press the issue.
Turning toward the guest quarters, Inyalia made her way along the wing and quickly found her room. It was a simple thing, housing a single bed, small table and chair. Gailen had had a weapon rack and armor brought in for her gear. He’d explained that having them on hand was a normal thing in dwarven society. It was a show of good faith that she had nothing to fear.
The room offered luxuries she hadn’t had in so long, but it was the balcony that made it something special. Outside the sliding door, she felt like she was flying. The guest rooms faced Mountain Heart, placing each balcony alongside the huge rock suspended at the city’s center. Mountain Heart was the royal district. The emperor, his family, and the royal guard resided within the core of the floating rock. Inyalia had only been inside it once. Gailen had wanted her to meet the emperor, believing he would find joy in knowing their friend yet lived. Unfortunately, the emperor refused to see anyone. But that didn’t stop the rumors from circulating.
Inyalia hadn’t been told anything directly. In fact, most of the dwarves, while polite to her face, seemed to object to her presence in the first place. Aside from Gailen, most hadn’t given her so much as an opinion. But it seemed they were unaware just how keen an elf’s hearing could be.
During her tour, she heard many of the dwarves speak in hushed voices, believing her out of ear shot. It seemed the emperor had taken to locking himself away, refusing to come out for days at a time. Some said he was ill, while others refused to comment. Inyalia suspected those few were the result of her presence. But since the emperor was unavailable, Gailen offered an alternative.
The magistrate took them into the museum, where all the cities riches were held. It took but a moment in the lower levels of the heart to discover what dwarves loved above all else. Mountains of gold, silver, and jewels were piled in the treasure room. Ancient and beautiful armors, weapons, and trinkets were on display for all to see. Boxes of jewelry covered every available surface, each piece labeled with a golden plaque that had been carved in dwarven writing. It seemed every trinket, bobble, and piece of metal within the museum had a story to tell. And Gailen was more than happy to relay them.
It was then that Inyalia realized a major difference between the dwarves and her own kind. Each family was allowed to accumulate their own wealth. And each did. But the wealth of the people as a whole was something to be treasured. That was why everything was on display, and so easily accessible. The riches belonged to everyone, and therefore, the dwarven people took great pride in their achievements.
Inyalia watched the hovering stone for a long moment. Along the sides, there were numerous openings and carved pathways that wrapped the perimeter, though they were difficult to see from a distance. Even now, she could see only the faintest lines where the guardrails protected the royals from carelessly toppling over the side, and she was just on the other side of the chasm.
Taking in the view, it was nothing compared to the void beneath the suspended heart. Far below, beyond the glow of fire, fungus, or spell, Inyalia could see the occasional flicker of light. It wasn’t like the outer ring, which was protected by fire and molten rock. This was far more interesting
. This was an underground river, capable of drowning the entire city.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Stepping through the sliding glass, Inyalia closed it and approached the entrance. Pulling it open, she peered into the hall, seeing Gailen’s wide smile. He always seemed pleased to see her.
“Good afternoon. Am I disturbing ye?”
Inyalia returned his smile. There was something about the old dwarf that brought her peace. “Not at all.”
“Excellent. I wanted ta let ye know, the tunnel has been cleared. Ye’re free ta leave whenever ye wish.” For the briefest moment, a lonely frown appeared beneath his facial hair, though it was gone before anything could be said of it.
“Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” Inyalia placed her hand on his arm, bending her knees just enough to look into his eyes. “It means more than you know.”
Gailen’s cheeks flushed. “It’s been me pleasure, lass. I hope ye have a safe trip. And when ye see that ol’ man, Aeldren. Tell em’ I’ll be seein’ em’ in hell.” A hearty chuckle escaped the old dwarf. He grabbed his plump belly, containing his laughter. Backing away from the door, he turned to leave. “I’ll let ye gather yer things.”
“Thank you, Gailen.” Inyalia repeated and closed the door. She felt for the old dwarf. He’d been so kind since he learned of her heritage. But it was more than that. Gailen once had a wife and daughter. Unfortunately, they’d gotten sick sometime back. That seemed to be the only thing the dwarves didn’t like about sealing themselves away. With no trade to the outside world, many plant species were no longer available. And that meant their medicines were extremely limited. Gailen had lost his family within a few days of each other. Since then he’d spent his time in work. But now that he had company, he’d let his guard down slightly.
Making her way to the armor stand, Inyalia pulled each piece free, fixing it to her with relative ease. She was surprised at how easy it fell into place. The buckles nearly clasped themselves, saving her the effort. Attaching the final piece, she gave a quick series of twists and stretches, ensuring everything was where it belonged. Such comfort shouldn’t have been possible in armor. Yet, had she not applied it herself, she wouldn’t have known it was there.
Inyalia strung her bow, resting it over her shoulder. She didn’t expect having to use it, but she decided to err on the side of caution. The dwarves were friendly, at least the ones she’d met. But some were less than enthusiastic about her presence. What if it was all a ruse, designed to gain her trust? She wasn’t willing to risk it until they were safely out of the mountain.
Lifting her quiver, Inyalia studied the collection of arrows that protruded. She counted six of the training arrows, at least three of which had been spelled by Lorena. Though it was impossible to tell which three now that they’d gotten mixed up. She could see the last white feathered arrow that had saved her from Alona. And there were twelve new ones, dwarven in design, that were made of the blackened metal. Though these didn’t have the crystal fragments she’d seen elsewhere. Strapping it in place, she slung her pack and made for the door.
Inyalia was nearly to the courtyard when a loud commotion erupted beyond the villa. A dull roar echoed within the cavern city. Looking around, it seemed the servants were as concerned as she was. Inyalia followed, searching for any sign of Tylor or Gailen. They had to be around here somewhere.
The servants rushed from the manor, spilling into the street. The dwarves, both civilian and soldier were scattered about, shouting to the others in their native tongue. Panic was clear on their faces. They ran into each other, toppling carts and overturning hastily packed wagons. Something wasn’t right. There was a fear about the city that Inyalia hadn’t noticed before.
“Inyalia!”
She heard Tylor’s voice amidst the sea of frightened screams from the surrounding city. “Over here!” Inyalia raised her arm, waving it overhead.
Tylor was dressed in his armor, his daggers sheathed at his side, and his loaded pack fixed securely to his back. He searched desperately for the woman in his charge. Seeing her near the entrance, he ran toward her. “Inyalia, we have to leave right now!”
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” The worry on his face was bleeding to her.
“We don’t have much time. Gailen went to your room to warn you. We need to find him and flee this place.”
“Tylor, tell me what’s happened!” Inyalia held her ground, refusing to move until he spoke.
“Damn it, Inyalia. We don’t have time!” Shaking his head, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything further until he spoke, he started talking, urging her to follow. “I’ll explain while we run.”
Inyalia accepted his terms and began jogging back into the villa.
“Apparently the emperor went crazy and started killing his guard. A few made it out. He’s on his way to the failsafe room.” Tylor picked up the pace, turning a corner. Leaping up the small staircase, he turned again, entering the guest wing.
“What do you mean, failsafe room? What’s that mean?”
Gailen stepped from one of the rooms. He was wrapped only in his robes, but a large axe hung across his back, supported by a thick leather strap. “It means he’s gonna bury the city, lass.”
Inyalia froze, comprehending the words. “He’s going to bury the city? How?”
Gailen sighed, clearly wanting to make a run for it. “When ye live underground, there be certain dangers not found elsewhere. As a precaution, we dwarves build everythin’ with that thought in mind. If we have ta collapse a tunnel, or level a section ta stop an enemy from reachin’ us, we will. Our entire city was built this way. Gaius is headed fer the failsafe rooms. From there, he can collapse every tunnel, bridge, an’ room we’ve ever used. It’ll kill the city, lass. That’s why we have ta move now. Yer tunnel isn’t far. If we can reach it, just maybe, we’ll get far enough away ta avoid gettin’ smooshed.”
“Like I said, we have to go now.” Tylor reassured her.
A loud rumble echoed through the cavern. Inyalia could feel it in her feet. The walls shook, and the ceilings cracked.
“It’s too late!” Gailen conceded, fear replacing his usual cheerful demeanor.
Running to the nearest window, Inyalia looked out, seeing the chains suspending Mountain Heart release. The huge rock crashed into the void, crushing everything in its path. Homes were decimated in the blink of an eye. The floor broke in many places, large chunks disappearing into the darkness below. They didn’t have long before the oblong stone that made the city’s core would teeter and crush the villa. In the distance, the cavern roof began to collapse, burying everything beneath in a cloud of dust.
Surveying the destruction, Tylor turned to their patron. “You said the tunnel isn’t far. Is there any chance to reach it?”
Gailen shook his head in defeat. “No, lad. Even if we reached it before Mountain Heart fell, we be too close ta avoid the collapse. There’s no hope.”
Finding her resolve, Inyalia stood tall in defiance of her impending doom. Turning to face her companions, blocking out the death occurring at her back, she clung to her desire for life. “There’s always hope! Follow me, I have an idea.”
Chapter XV
Burying the Past
Inyalia ran as fast as she could, though that wasn’t saying much. The ground shook vigorously, knocking her from her feet on many occasions. Reaching the door to her room, she threw it open and rushed inside. Hearing Tylor and Gailen behind her, she ran across the room and onto the balcony, overlooking the devastation. The glass door had shattered, leaving jagged bits on both sides. Searching the distance, she found her query.
The chains that had once held Mountain Heart suspended, were laying slack at the edge of the void. The massive core groaned, partially obstructing the hole it had once straddled. It wouldn’t be long before it toppled over, crushing the very spot they were standing.
Drawing her bow, Inyalia took out her favorite arrow and looped her rope to
the end. This was going to be far different from fishing, but it was the only chance they had. Nocking it, she took aim.
“Inyalia, this is crazy. Regardless of where you shoot, there’s no way it’s going to support any of our weight.” Tylor observed, trying to piece together her plan. Nothing about it made any sense.
“I have ta agree with em, lass. What’s on yer mind?”
“Patience.” Inyaila tossed the bundle of rope over the balcony rail, keeping the loose end in her hand. Adjusting her aim to account for weight and distance, she fired, jerking at the last moment.
Her arrow launched, pulling the rope with it. The tail end kicked, growing wider with each revolution. There was no way it would sink into anything it hit, if such a feat were even possible in a city made of stone.
“Come on. Come on!” Inyalia pleaded, begging her arrow to obey her command. The rope was beginning to raise, telling her she was nearly out of room. If it went taut before it reached its destination, she had no doubt the force would rip it from her grip. Watching the arrow, it flailed about, twisting away from its mark. Just before the shaft smacked the iron mount where the chain had been fixed, it hooped the other way and slipped through the gap.
“Yes!” Inyalia nearly jumped with joy, seeing the arrow connect. Wasting no time, she whipped the rope as hard as she could, spinning it with a twist. The wave traveled down, throwing the wooden shaft over the line. It wrapped around itself a few times, locking into place. It wasn’t as strong as a grappling hook, but it would work for her purposes. Moreover, it would get her close enough for the next stage of her plan.