by Adam Blade
Tanner’s gaze was caught by the reflection of the furnace flames glinting on a heap of ax heads and breastplates near the forges. A boy raised a conical helmet in the orange firelight. They’re being forced to make weapons that might cut down their own families, Tanner thought. His chest tightened with rage.
Guards in dark armor patrolled the work lines, armed with clubs. When a boy pushing a cart tripped and spilled a pile of black coal, one of the guards beat him until the boy crumpled, whimpering.
“Pick it up!” the guard yelled, raising his club over the cowering boy.
“Troublemaker?” said the deep voice Tanner had heard from outside the cave. A soldier stepped into view. He was a head taller than the rest of the guards, and his armor was covered with small red-brown handprints and streaks. Blood, Tanner thought. The man carried a long black whip.
“Captain Brutus,” the soldier said. “This brat may be another one for the cages.”
“Is that true?” Captain Brutus said, his face twisted into a cruel grin. To the boy, he shouted, “Get up, you lazy runt! You are here to work, not sleep. On your feet!”
The boy used the side of the cart to try to pull himself up, but it tipped over, spilling coal. With a jerk, Brutus cracked his whip in front of the boy’s face. Tanner felt himself flinch. “No, please!” the boy begged.
Brutus turned to the nearby boys and guards watching the pitiful scene. “Back to work! All of you. Or the Troiden will be crunching on your bones before nightfall.”
Everyone returned to work. Crack! With an expert flick of his wrist, Captain Brutus lashed out at a boy who hadn’t moved fast enough. Blood splattered the cave walls, and then the captain raised his whip at the nearest guard. “You put this brat in the cages! There should be a fresh supply of snakes in there by now.” He brought his face close to the sobbing boy and imitated a snake’s hiss. “They’ll like meeting you.”
Tanner was breathing hard, his hands balled into fists. He dripped with sweat as he eased himself back, away from the boulder. Pressed against the wall and gripping his sword tight, he creeped into the recesses of the caverns.
He reached a fork. Blazing light cast flickering shadows down one tunnel; the other was black as a starless night. Steeling himself, he took the dark passage. He had a sense of Firepos sending him encouragement. Keep going. Stay strong.
Feeling his way with just the fingertips of one hand, Tanner noticed the air cool. I must be heading away from the furnaces and into the mine. Who or what was the Troiden? What lived down here in the darkness of the Hidden Mines? Gradually, his ears picked out the ringing of pickaxes on rock. This must have been another route to the rock faces, deep in the mountain. He made out stairs, cut into the tunnel, and heard water dripping in the gloom. Tanner took a few more steps around a gentle bend and paused. Dim torchlight cast red shadows on the wall opposite a roughly hewn arched door.
“— they will find it soon,” said a gravelly voice. A voice he had heard before.
Tanner edged closer, feeling his heart knocking in his chest.
“Our enemies draw near,” said another voice, like a whisper of dead leaves. “I feel them.”
“They’re only children,” scoffed General Gor impatiently.
Tanner reached the doorway and looked through. Within was a simple chamber. Gor, dressed in his black armor, stood with his back to Tanner, and beside him was Captain Brutus. There was a third person — a man in a cloak. Tanner knew that if the man turned around, he would see a scar snaking across his face and throat. It was Vendrake, who’d ridden in the chariot. The three of them were addressing a low flame that flickered yellow and green, until it finally settled on blue. There was the face he’d seen before amid flames: Derthsin. Even from this distance, Tanner could see the ugly scars on his face and the glow of evil in his eyes. Where is he? Tanner wondered. Why does he need to send visions of himself? Where is he hiding?
“They may be only children,” hissed Derthsin, “but they control powerful allies. And now I fear they may have found a third.”
It took Tanner a moment to realize that Derthsin was talking about him and his friends. Children? Gor turned and the firelight captured his cruel profile.
“We have the boy back, at least,” said Gor. “Vendrake forced the truth from him. He has told us where to look.”
“We’re opening up the eastern tunnels,” put in Captain Brutus. “If we concentrate our manpower there, it cannot be long until we have what you seek.”
The piece of the mask! Tanner thought.
“And what shall we do with the boy then?” asked Vendrake.
The image of Derthsin seemed to glow brighter than before. “He is no more use to us. We won’t need to organize any further pre-arranged meetings with him. Feed him to the Troiden.”
Tanner backed away from the doorway. Picking his steps as carefully as possible, he hurried along the passage and toward the light. He emerged, coughing on the filthy air, then hurried outside. Gwen and Castor were waiting, peering from behind a rocky outcrop, their eyes wide. The Beasts were perched on the mountain above them.
“So?” Castor demanded.
Tanner filled his lungs with the clean mountain air. “They’re making weapons,” he reported. “And armor, too. The boys are slaves — they’re working the furnaces and forges. It’s horrible.”
“And Geffen?” Gwen asked quickly.
Tanner hesitated. “He’s told them to look for the mask in the eastern tunnels, but …” He wasn’t sure he could find the words.
“Say it, Tanner,” Gwen hissed. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
“As soon as they find the piece of the mask, they’re going to kill him. I was right — he’d arranged to meet Gor when he sneaked away from our camp. But now, he’s no more use to them.” His words came out in a rush. He told them what he’d seen, about Captain Brutus, Vendrake, and Gor, and the image of Derthsin in the flames. About Troiden.
“What about the boys?” Castor said, interrupting.
Tanner’s voice cracked. “They’re starving. They’re being beaten and overworked and … some of them are in cages with snakes.”
“Snakes?” Gwen repeated.
“Trapped like animals,” Castor said. He paced in a slow circle. “The boys I grew up with … I should be with them….” He punched the mountain rock. Tanner realized Castor was shaking with rage. He hit the rock again and again, until his knuckles were streaked with blood.
My feathers ruffle with a prickle of emotion. Castor is full of secrets and pain. One glance into Nera’s face tells me that. Does Tanner know what secrets lie in his new friend’s heart? I think he suspects.
I close my eyes and listen to whatever the boy’s soul is flooded with. Ah, yes …
Guilt.
I understand. My eyes snap open. Self-loathing infects the boy, like a disease. The tremor in his eyes, the shake of his hands — what is he hiding?
“Castor!” Tanner grabbed him. “Calm down.”
“Those are my people,” Castor shouted. “Let go of me.” He shook Tanner away and drew his sword. Tanner noticed for the first time that it had a cat’s claw embedded in the hilt. “We’re going to free them right now. I’ll go first….”
Tanner grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him away from the cave entrance.
“Listen to me,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “We’ll save them, I promise. But we can’t do it like this. Even if we could beat the guards — and there are a lot of soldiers — if we charge in like this, they may hurt more of the boys before we can stop them. And we may not even get near the piece of the Mask of Death. We have to think of a plan.”
Castor was shaking his head, but he was beginning to calm down. “What, then?”
Tanner thought for a moment. “I don’t just want to save the boys and find the mask. I want to destroy the armory, so those weapons are never used to bring more harm to Avantia. To do that, we need to get close to their leader — Captain Brutus —
and his men. Overpower them. So we need to get in without being noticed.”
“Great,” Castor said. “But how?”
“There must be a way. I don’t know….”
“Disguises,” Gwen said. Tanner turned to her. “We’ll disguise ourselves as captured boys from Castor’s town. We’ll blend in and slip past the soldiers. Then we can get close enough to free the boys and find a way to destroy the armory.”
Castor sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s a good plan,” Tanner said, clapping Gwen on the shoulder. “We will make them pay for what they’ve done.”
Castor nodded and put his sword away.
Tanner looked from him to Gwen. “It’s up to us.”
Tanner tugged on a sleeve of his tunic until it ripped and unraveled. He grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it in brown streaks across his clothes. Castor and Gwen did the same. All three of them tore at their tunics, making them ragged and loose. They crushed sandy rock into their hair and patted it across their faces and skin. When they were finished, their faces were so filthy that their eyes seemed startlingly white.
“How’s that?” Tanner said.
Castor studied him, then raised a fistful of dirt. “You need more on your chin.” He slapped a black streak across Tanner’s face.
Tanner laughed and coughed. “I’m pretty sure you could use some more, too,” he said. When Castor jumped back, grinning, Tanner threw a dirt clod at him.
“What about me?” Gwen said. “How do I look?”
Tanner examined her. Gwen’s tunic was crumpled and jagged at the ends, and her trousers were so dirty that she trailed dust when she moved.
“Looks good to me,” Castor said.
“Except for one thing,” Tanner said. “Your hair.”
Gwen raised a hand to her blond, tangled braids. They were caked in debris and dirt, but they were still too long. If the guards saw her hair, they’d realize right away that she didn’t belong.
“What do we do?” Gwen asked.
“Simple,” Castor said, and he stepped close to grab a lock of her hair. He started to draw his sword.
“No!” Gwen backed away. “You are not cutting it off.”
“It’s too long,” Castor said. “You don’t look anything like a boy.”
“He’s right,” Tanner agreed.
Gwen yanked up the collar of her tunic and tucked her long hair down the back. “There — it’s dark in the cave, isn’t it? No one will notice.”
Castor shook his head. “This is crazy. If they see we’ve got a girl with us —”
“I’m coming with you.” Gwen’s voice was steady and fierce. She stared him down. “They attacked my village. They have my brother. This is my battle, too.”
Before Castor could argue, Tanner said, “Gwen will fight alongside us. She battles harder than any boy I’ve met.”
Castor shrugged.
The Beasts watched as Tanner, Castor, and Gwen approached the cave entrance, and when she saw Castor step toward the passageway, Nera bounded to block the entry. Towering between Castor and the cave, Nera clawed the ground, her golden fur standing up on end as her claws sent out a spray of sparks.
“We’ll be careful,” Castor told her.
But Nera didn’t move, and when he tried to step past her, she reared back and roared. The sudden, deafening noise jolted Tanner backward.
He dodged a shower of mountain rocks cascading down around them, shattering to pieces when they hit the ground. At the edge of the cave entrance, a small rock slide tumbled down, breaking free of the mountain. The rock slide came to a halt, and the air filled with dust from the debris.
“That’s it!” Tanner cried. “Castor, can Nera cause the caves to collapse? Could she bury the entire armory?”
Castor nodded. “I think so.” He climbed onto Nera’s back and leaned close to her face. “Nera, go to the top of the mountain,” he said. “Can you give us time to save the boys?” He waited, anxious, as Nera glanced at the other Beasts, then at Tanner and Gwen. “Please, Nera,” Castor said. “At the top of the mountain, your roar can break the stone. You can bring it all down.” Nera retracted her claws, a fierce intelligence burning in her eyes. “For me,” Castor said, climbing back to the ground. She lowered her head so that he could run his hand behind her ears. “Be careful,” he said, and Nera pounced onto the rock, her fur rippling gold as she climbed faster.
Nera clambered up the mountainside, her claws hooking and scraping the stone. The Beast cast a long shadow as she arched overhead. Tanner watched her race above them, getting smaller as she ran toward the summit of the black mountain. Firepos sat straight, watching the mountain peak, while Gulkien sniffed and clicked his fangs, growling low.
“Do you think Nera can really cause the caves to crumble?” Gwen asked.
“You saw what she did,” Castor said proudly. “And she wasn’t even trying. If she goes to the top and doesn’t hold back …” He grinned. “She’ll bring down the mountain.”
“Burying the armory,” Tanner added. “I think it’s our best chance. Come on.”
Hoping they were doing the right thing, he led the way back underground.
We watch the Chosen Riders disappear into the open jag of darkness in the side of the mountain. My heart goes with them; we can do nothing to protect them now. But I am certain that Fate has brought us here, and I know that Nera will do all she can to help. There is no turning back. I glance up at my fellow Beast and, even from this distance, see her fur rippling with anticipation. Low clouds are rolling in, shutting out the daylight.
The emptiness of death draws near. Gulkien snorts at the air, as if he can smell it. Something terrible is coming — a fight to the death. I can only wait and watch the darkness grow around me. In the dimming light, the world becomes smaller, suffocating. Time passes. Let Fate spare the Chosen Riders; let them know what to do.
Tanner and his companions followed the orange lanterns along the cave passage, their shadows flickering and dancing on the dark walls. The clang and clatter of the armory grew louder, the air more sour with smoke, and Tanner signaled to Castor and Gwen to stop when they reached the broad opening of the cavern. He saw the anger on both of their faces as they heard the boys screaming and men shouting.
“We need to keep low to the ground,” Tanner hissed. They dropped to their stomachs and crawled to the first boulder. When they were close enough to see the armory, Gwen gasped.
“They’re so thin,” she murmured.
Castor’s fists were clenched, his jaw set.
Below, the boys were still working, the guards pacing among them with clubs. One led a prowling varkule on a chain. It snapped its jaws left and right, bringing panicked wails from the workers. Captain Brutus cracked his whip past the head of a dark-haired boy who was pouring molten metal into a mold. The boy flinched as the whip just missed his face.
“Faster!” Brutus shouted. “Finish that ax head before I come back or I’ll cut off one of your ears. Do you hear me?”
“Y-yes,” the boy said.
Captain Brutus stalked away and pointed at a boy working the furnaces. Each time furnace sparks flared, Brutus’s armor glittered a bloody crimson. “Move that ore. Faster!”
The captain’s back was turned — this was their chance. Tanner carefully creeped around the rocks, slowly …
“Now!” Castor said, and he darted down, toward a line of workers hammering at the forge. There was a guard in between Castor and the boys.
“Castor!” Tanner hissed. What was the fool doing?
But it was too late to stop him. Tanner grabbed Gwen’s hand and they ran down, too. Staying low to the ground, they rushed across the open cavern, then stopped as the guard started to turn toward them — Castor froze in plain view.
“Look out!” Tanner hissed. He and Gwen ran directly toward Castor and the guard. The boys saw what was happening. Tanner swiped his hand at them: Stay quiet. He grabbed Castor’s arm and hustled Gwen and Castor
in a quick sidestep around the guard’s back to the forge. The boys stared as Tanner, Castor, and Gwen slipped beside them.
“Now what?” Gwen panted.
Tanner drew his own sword and placed it on the anvil, then grabbed a hammer from a nearby rack. “Pretend to work.”
Gwen found another hammer and they took it in turns to bring them down on the anvil. Castor picked up a shovel and began to hurl coal into the furnace grate.
“They’ll see,” one of the captive boys whispered to his neighbor. “We’ll get in trouble for this….”
Another boy murmured, “What should we do?”
Tanner swung his hammer high and brought it down on the anvil. In between blows he looked around him, trying to spot a pattern to the guards’ and Captain Brutus’s movements. We don’t have much time, he thought. We need to make our move before the guards spot us. He counted two guards by the rear cages and another seven watching the work lines. They were all armed with clubs and dressed in armor. But the captive boys outnumbered the guards at least five to one, and maybe ten to one if he included the ones in the cages.
Gwen was watching Captain Brutus, not paying attention as she pretended to hammer. She bent her head and a coil of golden hair snaked out at her nape, falling down her back.
“Gwen, your hair!” Castor hissed.
She froze, dropped her hammer, and stuffed her braids back down her cloak. The guards were still patrolling, oblivious, but the boys working around them had noticed. They turned to the dark-haired boy Captain Brutus had threatened, as if he was in charge.
“Should we tell the guards?” one boy asked him. “Brutus will whip us if we don’t.”
The dark-haired boy shook his head. He was staring at Castor, and Tanner saw hope in his eyes. “You followed us from Colton,” said the boy in a shaking voice. “You’ve come to rescue us!”
Before Tanner could intervene, the other boys stopped working and stepped around Castor.