Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Willyn bit her lip and shook her head. How do I rally a weak people with no hope? What do they have to fight for? The reality of Willyn’s mission pushed on her spirit like an anvil. A light mist fell on the mountain city, leaving the forlorn town even more gray and depressing.

  As the old train screeched to a halt, Willyn wrapped a poncho around her shoulders and kicked at Bri’s foot. Bri snorted and sucked in a large puff of air before stretching out his tattooed arms and yawning. He smiled at Willyn. “Ah. Thin mountain air. We’re here. Good sleep.”

  Willyn followed Bri through the dirt streets of Legion’s Teeth, trying not to trip over the broken bricks and stone jutting up from the roads. The train depot sat in a small dip in the rock, surrounded by roughhewn mountain homes and narrow, worn streets. The path carried them even higher into the mountain, to the heart of Legion’s Teeth. As the two climbed the mountainside path, concrete structures protruded from the rocky cliffs. The tallest structure was no more than two stories tall, a massive bunker. A long artillery cannon jutted out from the thin slits at the bunker’s roof line. Unlike Rhuddenhall and its towering gates, the strength of Legion’s Teeth came from the walls Aleph provided, the mountains themselves. From this vantage point, no outside threat could penetrate the city of Legion’s Teeth. The city was hidden deep underneath the craggy mountains.

  The people inhabiting the mountain town outside the city were mostly downtrodden, dirty laborers. Despite this, just being back in the Groganlands bolstered Willyn’s spirit. She regretted that her return must be in secret, as she hid from her own people.

  Bri stopped in front of one of the larger concrete buildings that had a metal roof and large, sliding metal bay doors. “This it. This is mine hub. Ready to work?”

  Willyn pushed past Bri. “More than I think you realize, Bri. Let’s get inside.”

  The main hangar-like area inside the door was filled with a multitude of men and women. The scurrying feet kicked up a hue of red, dry dust that hung in the air like a fog. Most were dressed in black with red bandanas either on their head or wrapped around their upper arm. Their faces were covered with soot and mining dust, but few of them actually looked like miners. Instead of carrying picks or jackhammers, most of the inhabitants were shouldering rifles.

  The Reds. These are my people. The thought quickened Willyn’s heartbeat and brought a warmth that had been missing within her since she learned of Hagan’s death. The internal question pricked her again, “Is he really dead?”

  A whip crack echoed through the chamber, causing Willyn to snap with attention as the Reds turned in unison toward the newcomers.

  A thunderous voice boomed in the chamber. “ALL RIGHT, YOU LOT!”

  Willyn turned her eyes up to see a stout, barrel-chested man walking high on an iron catwalk above. A long, bushy black beard covered his face like a wilderness, and his eyes were wild, wide, and full of anger.

  “I don’t know what they told you down in Zenith,” the man spat on the ground, “but you’ve been hired for something more than mining!”

  Willyn glanced up to read Bri’s face. He shook his head and leaned down to her whispering, “This...this is not the normal.” Willyn stared at the foreman as he roared over them.

  “In Legion’s Teeth we do not serve the ‘High King’ of Candor who sits on his desert throne. Nor do we serve his Surrogator lapdog who whimpers in Rhuddenhall. We,” he slammed his fist on his chest, “remain faithful to the old ways, the Grogan ways. We are the Reds, and we serve the rightful Sar, Willyn Kara!”

  The Reds filling the room held up their fists and chanted, “Kara! Kara! Kara!”

  Willyn’s heart leapt in her chest, and everything within her wanted to announce her return. Bri’s giant hand closed softly over hers. He looked at her and shook his head. His eyes said one thing: Wait.

  Bri knows more than I thought. He knows who I am. The thought both comforted and disturbed her. What else did her companion know?

  The foreman gave another crack of his whip, and the Reds ceased their chant.

  “So, my dear Baggers, you have found yourself in a precarious situation.”

  Willyn held her breath. The faces of the Baggers were full of fear. The young mothers in the crowds gripped their children, their lips muttering silent prayers.

  The foreman continued, “You are our ancient enemies, the displaced Rihtians who fought our countrymen for millennia. By all rights we should work you down into the depths of the mountains and leave you there to die…” The bear-like man paced around the rabble, his eyes soaking in the fear and trembling of the Baggers, enjoying his position as he strolled above them, safe on his catwalk. “But... now is not the time to open old wounds.” His eyes scanned the crowd, his face as stern as the grave. “Let me be clear, we need you. The Reds need your help. On the authority of the Sar and her general here in Legion’s Teeth, Rander, you will be given a choice.”

  Willyn’s mind swelled with questions. Rander? The name was not familiar, but any person who would dare to play this game with her authority was either a fool or a madman. Neither option gave her any comfort.

  “Swear your fealty to Willyn Kara, or leave. We only give this choice to you once. You and your family can leave, traveling down the mountain pass into the wilderness. Those who stay...if you betray us, you’ll hang on the Pass. Do I make myself clear?”

  The Baggers remained silent, shaking in the mining hub.

  “Good. Those who will not serve the rightful Sar of the Groganlands, leave now.”

  No soul made for the door.

  “On your knees, then. Repeat after me!”

  All of the Baggers fell to their knees, the fear and adrenaline of the open threat slowly receding from their minds. The foreman continued and Willyn hid, kneeling amidst the mass.

  “I swear my allegiance to the Reds, and their Lord and Master, Willyn Kara, the Sar of the Groganlands. By Aleph’s name, I make this pledge. Selah!”

  The Baggers repeated what they heard, for no more reason than to survive another day. Willyn did the same, her heart beating in her chest as her lips spoke her own name, and she wondered how many times her name had been invoked over the lives of innocent people just trying to survive. The thought of forcing her name on helpless Baggers twisted like a corkscrew deep in her gut.

  “Stand up!” The foreman’s foul face receded. “We know you have traveled very far. There is much work to do, but you must eat and rest. Tomorrow I will instruct you in your task. I am Viga and I welcome you. Follow your way through the hall to rest and eat now. Tomorrow we work!” With that, Viga left them and the Reds opened a large doorway that emptied out into a gallery of food vendors.

  Bri chuckled and pointed down the large cement corridor. “Food that way. Don’t get lost.”

  Willyn laughed at how quickly Bri adjusted to the circumstance. A realization shot through her mind. They all are like this. The Baggers adjust as they have to so they can survive. She thanked Bri and slipped down the long, wide corridor searching for a nook of privacy. A small hallway broke off from the main thoroughfare with markings for storage. Willyn snuck into the first unlocked door and dug her datalink from her pocket, quickly typing a message.

  :Wael. I am here. The Reds have completely taken over the Teeth. They are swearing that they serve me. Rander, however, is the man in charge. Do you know anything about him?

  A few seconds passed, and Wael’s response flashed on the screen.

  :No. We do not know that name. Proceed with caution. Learn what you can before you make your presence known. Your first task must be to find the mirror. Find it, then secure your place. I will be in touch.

  Willyn typed her response in a flash.

  :Understood.

  Willyn snapped the datalink on her wrist shut. She stepped back down the narrow hallway and merged into the flow of migrant workers, following their noses to their next meal. As she followed the crowd, another large room opened around them. The cement floors gave way to red rock wa
lls that jutted up hundreds of feet into the air, the ceiling held back by nothing more than steel beams shouldering the colossal weight of the mountain overhead. Tables lined the far wall of the marketplace, with smaller rooms cut out to house vendors offering an assortment of food, clothing, and wares.

  The pleasant, smoky smell of Grogan cooking made her mouth water. The aroma of barbecued boar meat and stewed rabbit welcomed Willyn home. She fished in her pockets for a few credits and bought a roasted rabbit leg from one of the food stations. As she gnawed at the delicious, gamey meat, she sat at one of the vacant tables and positioned herself to examine the room.

  After about five minutes, Willyn noticed a middle-aged man with jet-black hair and a long mustache stroll into the room flanked by six bodyguards. The man was no more than five and a half feet tall but looked as thick as he was long. The men around him were holding standard formation as he walked up to one of the vendors. He gazed at the food over his dark glasses before pointing at whatever it was he wanted to eat. Soon, Viga joined him and the formation and started shouting orders at the cook.

  Rander. Willyn could read the formation in an instant. Their formation is blatant. Willyn knew that even if the mustached man was not Rander, it had to be someone important to the Reds, and he could lead her to him.

  As Willyn started to rise from her seat, a rough hand caught her arm. “I see your eyes. Wouldn’t trouble them. Not if you wanna live.”

  Willyn jerked her arm back and spun to face a young, portly Bagger. He flashed her a hollow-toothed grin before warning her again. “You best be careful. People been dying around here lately. Rander don’t take much bothering to get in a fuss.”

  Willyn looked back over her shoulder as Rander and Viga slipped through the crowd.

  “What do you mean?” She searched his expression for information. “Is he killing people? Is Rander murdering migrants?” Willyn cursed under her breath as Rander and his party turned the corner and disappeared.

  The boy took a huge bite out of a roast pheasant, his jowls working furiously on the poor bird. He spoke between swallows. “No. He ain’t killing. But someone is. Started with five bodies getting pulled outta hole deep in the eastern mines a couple days back. They was all shot in the head. Had gone missing a few days when a rescue dog found ‘em. Barely got the dog out alive cause of the fumes. No one should be down in the eastern shafts.” Willyn cocked her head, and the Bagger nodded. “Shafts there are full of poison. A few people went down to fetch the bodies, and they never came back.”

  Willyn raised her eyebrows, her mind whirring through the possibilities. “So someone is murdering the Baggers?”

  “Baggers. Reds. It don’t matter. People keep turning up dead down in the same spot. Don’t know what’s going on and it’s got Rander wound tight.” He leaned in, motioning for her to do the same. She did, meeting his solemn eyes. “I think the place is cursed. No one should be there no ways. It’s been closed for years, ever since the accident.”

  “Accident?”

  “Yeah. Something about a ghost that walks the eastern shafts. Drinking the blood of miners, bunch of crazy stuff like that. The story has been passed around for years, and no one thought anything about it. It was all fine and good until a few of the kids decided to be brave and go exploring.”

  Willyn’s heart throttled in her chest. “What happened?” she said, trying to sound disinterested.

  The boy grabbed a cup of water and swallowed it in one gulp. He spoke matter-of-factly, “Five Bagger kids went in. None of them came back. They got trapped in the back of a shaft and couldn’t find their way out. Strangest thing is the shaft was open. There wasn’t a cave in or anything.”

  Willyn cocked her head. “So–”

  The broad boy looked at her, his eyes distant, weighing the words. “The thing is they were all dead, but that wasn’t the strange part.”

  Willyn leaned in, her ears peaked. “I heard that there wasn’t a drop of blood in them. They were dried out like apples.” He shook his head. “The doctors said it was because of the air, so they closed the shaft for workers ever since. Don’t know if it is all true, but that’s word round here ‘bout it.”

  The mirror! The thought burst through Willyn’s mind like a lightning bolt. They’ve found it.

  Willyn’s stomach turned. She was too late. The mission was a total failure and it had not yet begun. She ground her teeth before asking one more question. “Do you know if they pulled anything else out the eastern tunnels other than those five men?”

  The Bagger scrunched up his face. “What you mean?”

  Willyn looked around the room to make sure no one was listening in on the conversation and whispered, “Did they pull out anything of value? I mean, why were people going down there if they knew the danger? There has to be something down there that makes the risk worth it.”

  The Bagger shook his head. “Dunno. But word is people are still going down to dig even after all that happened. One of my friends said just yesterday some guy asked him to dig down there again tonight. Said they pay him fifty credits for one night’s work. Good pay, but I ain’t crazy. I wouldn’t do it.”

  Willyn’s heart raced. Her face flushed with warmth as she realized that she still had time. She controlled her excitement to a furious whisper. “Show me. I’ll pay you a hundred credits. You just have to show me the way.”

  The Bagger’s eyes flew wide open. “Are you crazy?”

  Willyn grunted and pulled at his arm. “Just show me. Not all the way, just show me how to get to the eastern mine. I will handle the rest. And you tell no one about me going or you will be the next dead body down there. Got it?”

  The Bagger chuckled and took another bite before wiping his cheeks and standing from the table. “Yep. All I heard was one hundred credits.”

  She led the husky Bagger out of the mess hall. Bri watched the whole conversation from a distance, reading their lips as he baptized his bushy mustache in thick beef stew. When Willyn left the room, Bri slurped down his last gulp and stood, trailing his ward in silence.

  Willyn’s face was covered with a large, awkward mask that hummed with mechanical life. She wore a heavy pack that supplied her with fresh air as she worked her way down the narrow path in the dark. Following the tracks in the forgotten mineshaft was easy enough. The dust and debris on the floor showcased the decisions that the now dead miners had made.

  The shaft was a blanket of shadow that was near impossible to navigate, and Willyn was hardly prepared. After running off and leaving Bri and the rest of the Baggers behind, all she had for light was the screen of her datalink.

  “No weapon. No map. Hardly any light. Not your best plan,” Willyn whispered to herself as she pressed further into the mine. “Too far to turn back now. Should have taken something for protection.”

  Eventually the lonely cut of rock dropped into a steep slope. The slanting floor was coated with thick dust and debris. Willyn knew she was in the middle of the new dig site. The hair on Willyn’s arms stood on end as she squeezed down the narrow walls in a steady decline.

  The shaft soon ended and leveled. Willyn could see a large crevice running down the middle of the floor. She stooped down, examining it. The thin crack on the floor grew, appearing to open into a separate cavern below. The glow of her datalink did not provide enough light to examine the area below, but Willyn knew she was close. She could feel it.

  She climbed back up the sloping floor and found a small perpendicular vein cut into the side of the mineshaft that she determined was deep enough to conceal herself. If what the Bagger said was true, there would soon be another set of miners walking into a trap.

  The hours inched by as Willyn sat alone in the inky black depths of Legion’s Teeth. She checked her oxygen tank and cursed as the gauge continued to drop. She dialed back the oxygen mix and slowed the airflow. Willyn fidgeted with the device as she prayed that the men would show soon, before she had to turn back to prevent choking out.

  The time
spent in silence offered the demons of her past a chance to torment her. The most common thought that continued to assault her was the face of Hagan. She kept thinking of his death and questioned what she could have done differently to save him. But Hagan was not alone in her nightmares. He was joined by Luken. Willyn kept replaying his death in her mind. The last she could remember of him was the explosion that sent him to the depths of the Endless Ocean. Two of the only people she had ever opened up to, been herself with, were gone. They were gone, but her nightmares remained. The two people that had once brought her comfort only tormented her quiet, lonely thoughts.

  “Down here, you slugs.” The gruff voice broke Willyn from her terrible daydreams. “One rule. No one drops in until I tell you to. Disobey and you will end up like the rest.”

  The voice was unmistakable. Viga was the one trying to dig out the mirror.

  Willyn peaked around the corner of her hiding spot and watched the backs of four men bob up and down as they stepped down the decline leading to the shaft’s dead end. Two of the men carried jackhammers, another was loaded with chains, and the fourth, Viga, carried nothing but a pistol.

  The sound of jackhammers thundered up the mineshaft and vibrated the walls of Willyn’s small hiding place. The thunderous din vibrated through the small shaft with growing intensity, scrambling Willyn’s thoughts and plans. Think, Willyn, think!

  The noise was terrible, making it almost impossible to cement a plan in her mind. There was no other opportunity to secure the mirror. Willyn slipped to the edge of the sloping floor and looked down into the shadows. The two men working the jackhammers were preoccupied, trying to open the vein in the floor wider, as Viga and the other worker stayed back. A cloud of dust enveloped the men as the rock floor was slowly eaten away.

  Willyn slid down the descent, inching closer to the four silhouettes in the dust-filled dead end. Before the men became indistinguishable shapes in the cloud of debris, Willyn marked Viga and tracked his movements around the floor.