The questions spiraled and swirled in his mind, endless and without answers. Thunder in the earth underfoot pulled him back to the path ahead. Simra’s hand, back in his, squeezed. “What is that?”
Alronna pointed to the west where a mountain loomed at least a day’s journey away. “Don’t know, but it’s coming from that direction, and we’re going there anyway.”
“There is something happening in that crack in the earth,” Hilana said. She indicated the dark chasm Lakhoni had noticed earlier when they were being taken by Desa Thora. “My guess is that it is coming from there.”
They followed a faint double track in the ground that curved slowly toward the dark crevice. Four people hauling on a heavy cart passed them, the wheels of their cart rolling smoothly in the track Lakhoni and his family were following. Sweat poured from the men and women pulling the cart. Dust and sweat-covered cloths hung around their necks. Muscles pulsed and twitched in their arms and legs as they leaned into their work, walking steadily forward on the path. The double path was exactly the right width for the wheels of their cart.
As Lakhoni and his family drew slowly closer to the crack, more crews passed them, the wheels of their heavily-laden carts running through grooves that were a hands-width deep. An impressive sight since the ground had no vegetation and no dirt. It was all hard-edged, gray and black stone. But the wheel grooves still cut through the stone. “It’s smooth,” Simra said, awe in her voice as she crouched to run her hand along one of the grooves. “It’s as if every cart over a hundred years has traveled on this exact same path.”
Lakhoni bent and ran his fingers along the lighter stone inside the wheel track. It was almost soft to the touch. He stood and moved away to allow the next crew of workers haul their load past. He tried to get a look at what was in the cart, but every cart so far had been covered in a cracking, worn sheet of leather.
The chasm was far bigger than they’d thought. Their path toward the fissure sloped downward, the space in the crack widening, in a way they hadn’t seen from back near the city. A steady string of workers passed them, headed toward Modigilza, most of them pulling the heavy wood carts. The workers didn’t speak as they passed Lakhoni and his family. They would lift the cloths hanging from their necks and wipe their eyes or mouth and wordlessly drop them. The workers’ eyes would dart from companion to companion, usually landing on Lamorun or Hilana, but they said nothing as the heavy wheels of their carts rolled smoothly along, a low rumble accompanying each cart as it went by. The underground thunder had continued to roll along, growing louder as Lakhoni and his family traveled. This was not the rumble from the cart wheels. It sounded as if something heavy was being regularly dropped onto a rock bed. The sound and sensation of vibrating earth reminded Lakhoni of the massive stone blocks that served as a door to Zyronilxa.
Another cart rumbled by. Whatever was in those carts, it had to be incredibly heavy. There were always four people leaning into the cross bar at the front of the cart, pushing with all of their significant strength. Maybe that was why the people never spoke—they wanted to save all their breath for the task of moving the carts toward the city.
The thunder underfoot had grown louder and stronger with every minute. The stone ground began to slope more sharply downward. Looking around, Lakhoni realized they had been in the fissure for some time already. The walls to either side of them were steadily growing taller and widening as they went down. The stone underfoot here was smooth and worn, with light gray dust covering it and filling the air almost everywhere. The stone they walked on didn’t look natural—almost as if it had been carved into and smoothed by countless feet tramping all over it. A cart slowly passed them, going the other direction. The four people pushing it had their neck cloths over their mouth and nose, clearly to keep the gray dust from their lungs. How they were able to haul the cart up the steep incline, Lakhoni couldn’t guess. Their legs were thick with muscle, but the slope was steep. Lakhoni found himself leaning back a little to keep the pressure off his knees as they descended. He sniffed and shook his head. The sulfur smell again like before. What was happening down here?
As they made their way down, Lakhoni’s mouth dropped. The fissure had widened into a massive chasm with rough walls and hundreds of openings carved into those walls. It was a canyon. But it looked like a man-made canyon, with rough ledges and entrances into what he could only guess was a maze of caves and passages in the rock deep inside the cliffs. This was not water-smoothed rock, like they had encountered after the heavy jungle. This was jagged, rough stone that it appeared hundreds of people were actively cutting more into. How was this possible?
“Creator,” Simra whispered. “Are those people climbing all over the walls?”
“They said this was a mining city,” Hilana said.
A thunderous boom sounded from ahead and far below, the ground underfoot shaking and trembling as they had come to expect.
“What are they mining?” Lakhoni tried to take it all in at once. The lanky workers suspended at a multitude of levels all over the chasm walls. The noise of what had to be hundreds of hammers and other tools breaking stone.
“They had a lot of metal in the city,” Lamorun said. “Iron, is my guess.”
They continued down the slope toward a wide flat area just ahead. Several large groups of people moved with purpose around the flat space, most of them grouped around a structure of some kind. Which sat on the edge of a cliff. Which was where their path ended, not twenty paces ahead.
“What is that?” Alronna asked. She pointed at an enormous contraption fashioned from wood. It stood three men high and had tough-looking rope wound through wheels of all sizes. It was anchored to the stone ground with what looked like hundreds of loops of tough rope wrapped around a massive boulder just next to it.
“How would any of us kno—” Hilana cut her retort off as the people working with the large wood contraption shouted in unison and pushed. They started moving right away, turning a wide, many-toothed wheel that was on its side. As they pushed the wheel, five people to either side of it, all leaning into a long, stout pole to move the wheel, rope began to move. The tall arms of the wood structure bent slightly as rope slid around moving wheels.
“They’re lifting something,” Simra said. “That wheel with the teeth on the outside—it’s moving another one that’s pulling rope up from somewhere below.” She led the way closer to the edge. The smell of sulfur was a little stronger here and the creaks of the wooden structure and rope mixed with shouts and the noise of heavy tools hitting stone. Lakhoni watched the rope, which was incredibly tight, slide around the wheels of varying sizes. What were they pulling up?
Movement to his right caught Lakhoni’s eye. He turned in time to watch a group of three men pull to a stop a few paces away. “Who’re you?” The speaker was at least a head shorter than Lakhoni. He had a rough scar all over his shiny, bald head. His dust cloth was dark red and stained with sweat.
“We are travelers.” Lakhoni indicated the enormous, man-carved chasm and the tall, triangular shaped mountain beyond it. “We need to get there.”
“We’re not trespassers,” Alronna said. “We already talked with Illiana and Mozde. They sent us this way.”
One of the men with the short, bald man had his long hair tied in a tight ball against the back of his head. He spoke now. “Why d’you need to get there?” He lifted his red dust cloth and sopped at his sweaty brow. His mouth worked as if he were chewing on something tough.
The other man, by far the tallest of the three and with hair cut so short it just looked like a frizz of gray and black, stepped forward. He also had a stained dust cloth, but it was dyed blue. “Be on your way. We will not be robbed again.”
“Is there a path around your mine here?” Hilana asked. “Or a way to get through?”
A crack, then a rumble sounded from deep in the mining chasm. The ground shook as the deep noise reverberated against the stone walls. “What is that?” Lamorun asked. “We’v
e heard this sound many times since coming to this valley.”
Lakhoni put out a hand to silence his brother and Hilana. “Wait a moment.” Illiana and Mozde had said that none of the citizens of the city knew about the Rod being stolen. Were they wrong? Had word gotten out? He closed the distance to the tall man with the nearly bald head. “What do you mean, ‘robbed?’”
The man pursed his lips tightly in a sour expression, glaring at Lakhoni as if Lakhoni were the thief. “An entire sonti of our black powder was taken.”
“A sonti?” Lakhoni threw a questioning glance at his companions. They had no answer.
“And what is black powder?” Simra asked.
The tall man extended both hands and stepped backward, rejoining the other two men. “You invoke the names of our high priestess and priest, so we will not detain you. But you will be on your way now.”
Lakhoni fought the urge to grab the tall man and shake just one straight answer out of him. Instead, he turned to the first man who had spoken. The one with the gnarled scar all over his head. “We would like to be on our way as your friend here says. But we are seeking a thief and a murderer. It might be that he was the one who took your sonti.”
Creaks from the tall wooden structure grew louder and higher in pitch as the two groups turned the toothed wheel. It was clear that the thing was a machine that could pull something heavy up the tall cliff face. But what were they lifting?
Scar-head man worked his mouth, then spat on the dirty stone. “It was black powder that was took. The sonti is how much. And it’s an entire batch.”
“Hold yer tongue, Drumo.” The other shorter man grabbed scar-head man and jerked him sideways. “These’re outsiders and hain’t no need to know our business.”
“It’s fine, Fegan.” The tall man’s eyes flicked to each of Lakhoni’s companions. “We will be rid of them quicker if we aid them in their journey.” The man cleared his throat and spat, wiping his brow clean again with his blue cloth. He turned from Lakhoni and raised an eyebrow as he regarded the tall, complicated wood structure. “Hurry the wheelers up, Drumo.”
“Yer wishes, Deso,” the scar-head man, Drumo, said and hurried towards the machine.
Deso? Was that this man’s name or was it a title as with Desa Thora? This man did seem to have some kind of authority over the other two. Lakhoni tried to ask again. “Please. We’re trying to find the man who probably robbed you. Can you tell us what he stole?” The nonstop clamor from the chasm had resolved into more of a rhythmic thrumming by now. The light was growing dimmer as the sun fell farther behind the mountains to the west.
“We already said.” The tall man watched as Drumo shouted orders at the groups of people pushing on the flat wheel, turning it around and around. Wheelers. Of course. “We had a sonti of black powder stolen.”
“But what is black powder?” Alronna broke in.
A loud crack and a rumble rolled over them, the rock underfoot vibrating again.
“That,” the tall man said, pointing at the ground, “is black powder.” A small smile stretched his lips. “With it we are breaking through this cursed mountain faster than ever.”
“I don’t understand.” Lakhoni looked to the ground where the tall man had pointed. It was simply dark stone.
“We pack the black powder into a carved hole in the stone,” the tall man said, “then seal it and light it. When it explodes, the stone is shattered and we find more iron ore than we can handle.”
Lakhoni shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“Hold,” Lamorun said, his expression intent. “You use this black powder to break open the mountain? It shatters stone? Is it some kind of massive hammer?”
“No,” the tall man said. “It is black powder.” He pulled a small pouch off his belt and poured something into one hand. As he did, a handcart, like those they had passed on their way down this way, appeared above the cliff edge, lifted by the wheelers and their machine. It rocked and pitched, but several strong workers caught hold of the cart and pulled hard, getting it set onto the firm ground. “Here, see.” The tall man held out his hand.
It was exactly as described. Small particles of black powder were in a small heap, cupped in the man’s hand. “You can light this on fire?” Lakhoni asked.
“And you use it to break through the stone of the mountain?” Alronna asked.
“Exactly.” The tall man shouted to Drumo. “Attach the platform.” He led the way to the lifting machine. “We will help these travelers to the chasm floor.”
“You’re saying that powder,” Hilana said as they followed the tall man toward the tall wood contraption, “can be lit on fire and it somehow breaks rock?”
“Yes,” the tall man said. “It explodes the stone, sends it flying.”
“How much do you need?” Lakhoni watched as a group of workers connected four ropes to the multiple ropes hanging from the contraption. “To break through the stone, I mean.”
“A single pouch like this is enough to blast a hole as big as a man,” the tall man said. He extended a hand toward the cliff edge and the lifting machine. Four people had already started pulling the cart that had been carried up the cliff face. They got a slow start, but the cart began to move faster as they got going. “Now, please. You can take the platform down. Fegan here will accompany you on your descent. He was going down anyway.”
The man with the long hair tied in a ball dipped his head. “Yer wishes, Deso Lagad.” His gaze flickered to Lakhoni and the others. “Foller me if it please yer.” Fegan stepped onto a sturdy-looking platform of wood. Ropes extended from its corners to a series of ropes that fed into the lifting machine. “Find you a place ter hold onto.”
Hilana made a strangled noise in her throat. “You want us to stand on that and be dangled over the cliff?” She glanced carefully over the edge. “It’s at least a hundred paces down.”
“Yer can sit if you want,” Fegan said. The ropes above him began tightening as the wheelers started walking slowly.
“This will be fun!” Lamorun grabbed Hilana by the arm. “Come. It will be like flying.” He dragged her toward the platform.
She resisted. “We can just walk.” Hilana tried to pull her arm free of Lamorun’s grasp. “There must be another way down.”
“None as fast as this,” Lakhoni said. He tried to project confidence, but the idea of being suspended over the ground by a wood machine he had no reason to trust was making his stomach clench. He and Simra stepped onto the platform. He’d had another question to ask the tall man, Deso Lagad, but the sudden cold fear in his middle had driven all thought away.
Alronna followed them and immediately grabbed one of the tightening ropes. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I would sooner jump than trust my safety to this thing!” Hilana fought to get free from Lamorun’s tight grasp. But his hand was too strong. Her chest rose and fell with quick, panicked breaths.
“Woman, if we wish to catch up to Gadnar, this is the fastest way to do it.” Lamorun took Hilana’s other arm and stared her in the eyes. “You are the woman without fear. This is nothing to you.”
Alronna bumped Lakhoni’s shoulder. “See that? They’re more than friends.”
Lakhoni glanced at his sister, then his brother. Alronna was probably right, but this was not the time. He held his rope as tightly as he could, trying not to think about what they were about to do.
Hilana’s cheeks were bright red. She licked her lips and clenched her fists. “I am not afraid of it, club leg.” She swallowed. “I simply do not trust this thing.” She tossed her head in the direction of the wood structure.
“This man,” Lamorun pointed with his chin, still holding Hilana’s arms, “is coming with us.” He called to Fegan, who looked bored and impatient. “You have done this before?”
Fegan nodded, the ball of hair at the back of his head bouncing. “More’n once a day. Best to just get ‘er over with.”
“You see?” Lamorun turned back to Hilana. “
It’s safe. And you can sit in the middle, where it is safest.” His voice grew soft as he spoke.
Hilana visibly tried to calm her breathing. She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders. She met Lamorun’s gaze and gave him a frustrated look, her eyes hooded. “Fine. But you will not drag me.”
Lamorun nodded and let her arms go. He waited and Hilana took a step toward the platform. Then they got on together. Hilana went right to the middle and sat, her legs crossed.
“Drumo, let’s go,” Fegan said.
The wheelers began walking, pushing their wheel. Lakhoni tried to make out how the wood machine with all the toothed-wheels worked, but the mechanism was complicated. For a few seconds, the platform didn’t move. Then it eased gently off the ground until they were a hand’s width off the stone at the top of the chasm.
“If we die, I will kill you.” Hilana said to Lamorun. She gripped rope handles that had been fashioned into the platform. As Lakhoni looked around, he noticed that Fegan had one foot inside another handle. Lakhoni looked down and found a rope handle just under him. He slid a foot in and felt more secure.
Then the long arm of the structure swiveled and they suddenly dangled over the chasm.
Lakhoni clenched his rope and muscles, the gentle swinging sensation not pleasant.
Drumo’s voice carried as he shouted a steady rhythm. The wheelers kept moving and the platform eased downward. Lakhoni had been expecting a jerky, terrifying ride. But this was smooth and nearly imperceptible, but for the rough cliff face in front of him as they descended.
Nobody spoke during the first part of the descent. Simra’s eyes were wide as they were slowly lowered into the chasm, the platform gently turning. As they reached the halfway point, Simra let out a laugh. “This is incredible!”
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