Cavelost

by Courtney Privett

  I was newly seventeen when Shan was born, the same age he is now. His father was my employer, an elf Lord named Daelis Goldtree. Not just any Lord, but the heir to the Jade Duchy. Rumor said Daelis was in the habit of seducing his scribes, an indiscretion I knew nothing about until, like the other scribes I'm certain he left in similar predicaments, he tossed me away and paid me to keep quiet about the existence of our child. I left his employment with a swollen belly and enough money to live off until that bastard Rohir ran off with the remainder. Daelis's bribery worked well enough that this is the first time I've revealed his identity as Shan's father anywhere but in my head. Even Shan himself doesn't know. I'll have to change that when I see him. He deserves to know who he is.

  Anyway, Shan is the important one here, not Daelis. Shan's my quiet, half-elven scholar. He's always been fascinated by the inner workings of the world, by ancient artifacts, by the mysteries of the stars. He spoke in sentences before a year and could read by age three. I'm not sure if his intelligence is a common trait to half-elves or if the fire he carries in his soul is his own unique genius. I know he'll be successful, even in a society that disfavors half-bloods. His mind matters far more than his ancestry, so he'll be okay. He may even shine as one of the great thinkers of the land someday.

  The water feels wonderful, but it's sending me to sleep. I can't fall asleep in it or I may tip over and drown. Time to get out, get dressed, and sleep off the remainder of my pain so I can wake to a journey toward fresh, new pain. I already have bruises upon bruises and crosshatched scratches, but I must keep going. Even forcing myself to remain hungry, my food supplies are dwindling. With current rations, I have a week's worth left, maybe two if I really stretch it and supplement with whatever semi-edible yuck I find. I need to get out of here before I starve. Or become food for some other starving being.

  Day 4, part 2

  Damn it. Damn it. All the gods have damned me. Damn it.

  I can't find the outlet stream for this pool. It must be underground, off where the floor drops away into depths my lantern can't reach. My plan to follow the stream has been smashed between the rocks, drowned beneath silent crystal reflections. I'll need to return the way I came and take a different path. I may have to do what I never wanted. I may have to travel downward again in search of a way up.

  My calm is drifting into fury. I can't have that. I'll stay here a little longer. Another soak and another nap. I'll stay and bathe beneath the crystal stars. It's tempting to choose this beautiful chamber as my tomb, but I can't. This is just a detour, not a dead end. I must escape. For Shan, for Tessen, for my sister and parents and myself... I must escape.

  Dear children,

  I love you. I'm sorry.

  Mom.

  Day 5

  I'm dangling my feet off a ledge while eating a handful of dried nuts and fruits. Slowly, one piece at a time, each piece chewed until there is nothing left but residual flavor. I'm trying to trick my body into believing it's getting a leisurely four-course meal. My jaw aches from the effort.

  I backtracked from the crystal pool until I found a split in the path. Not too far back, thankfully. I was afraid I'd have to pass by where I saw the six-eyed creatures to find a different route. I've marked the directions I already tried with silver coins. Didn't have anything else that might catch the light and I won't be needing money if I'm dead. Hopefully I won't circle. That's an extra adventure I don't need.

  It's hard to believe anymore that I used to crave exploration like some people crave sweets.

  I had a bad habit of running away when I was young. My parents are good people and no one ever hurt me, but I had a rebellious spirit and a longing for adventure. After the first two episodes, the Jadeshire city guards knew to watch for me, so I never made it further than the gates. Since I could no longer run through the gates, I learned how to climb.

  That's how I got to know the wall sentinels. Specifically the Captain of the wall, Nina Callan. In relative secret, she taught me how to wield a sword. She drilled me until my skill surpassed her own. I was supposed to become her second in command and eventual replacement, but my life detoured. My father got me a job as one of Lord Daelis Goldtree's scribes, a prestigious position I wasn't allowed to refuse. I no longer had the time to be both what I wanted to be and what I needed to be. My sword training immediately slowed to a few scattered sessions a week instead of every morning before dawn.

  After a year of this, my training abruptly ended when Nina found out I was pregnant. She was the first person aside from Daelis who I told, and I only told her because I trusted her, and because I was afraid I'd get hit in the stomach during our lessons. I was expecting her to be gentle with me, maternal even, but instead she said I was no longer welcome. She dragged me home, revealed the secrets of both my sentinel training and my baby to my parents, and refused all further contact with me.

  Nina's dismissal and Daelis's flippant rejection two months later teamed up to break my heart, but at least my parents were kind. Their disappointment was obvious, but they never spoke harsh words or shamed me. Those actions ended up being reserved for people outside my family. Total strangers whispered whore as I passed them on the streets, especially after my second fatherless child was born a year after my first, but my family's support was unconditional. They loved me and adored my children, even as I continued to lie to them all.

  I needed employment to support my children, but no one in the city wanted to hire a single mother with a poor reputation. My sword skills and longing for adventure ended up working to my advantage when one of the wall sentinels I still considered my friend put me in contact with a mercenary named Mordegan Vale. At the age of nineteen, I became a hired sword. I often left my children with my older sister for weeks at time while I traveled the land—slaying creatures, hunting criminals, and settling debts. I missed my sons intensely, but the money was good and the scenery was even better. I spent six years alternating between imminent peril and the joyful hugs of my little boys. Then, I fell in love with Mordegan's son, Ragan. Alon's father. He was–

  Something is screaming. Close, too close. Screams and echoes, echoes and screams. It sounds more like a person than an animal, but not quite. I need to get up and keep moving. Away from that horrific scream. Put on my rucksack, pick up my lantern, hoist my sword, and into the dripping darkness I go. Quickly, now. Onward and hopefully upward.

  Day 5, part 2

  Here I sit, once again on the edge of a chasm, but I am no longer alone.

  I cornered the beast against a grouping of stalagmites. It was small, no taller than my waist, with moss green hair, stone gray skin, and pale green eyes. Only two eyes. This was something other than the large six-eyed creatures I saw before.

  The beast cowered before my sword. It... no, she... she crouched on the ground and drew her knobby knees under her ragged tunic. She was terrified of me, and her frail, undeveloped body hinted that she was only a child.

  "Who are you? What are you? Why are you following me?" I demanded, my sword still raised.

  She held her hands over her huge eyes and gasped. Her teeth were sharp and uneven. "Scared. Yana is me. I is Uldru people. Not mean. Scared."

  Her voice was quiet and metallic, and most certainly the voice of a child. I lowered my sword. I couldn't bring myself to kill a child, even a potentially dangerous one. "My name is Rin. Do you know the way out of this cave?"

  Yana's eyes filled with tears. "No. No know out. Uldru trapped. Birth to death. Trapped by Varaku. Made to dig, made to find. I run away. They find me and I die."

  I sheathed my sword and sat on the rocks in front of the child. Her upturned nose and large, pointed ears twitched in unison. I was the threat, not her. "Your people are slaves, then? You know this place. Stay with me. I'll try to keep you safe from the Varaku if you help me find a way out of the caves." Whatever the Varaku were. I wondered if they were the six-eyed creatures. Or something worse.

  "Yes. Yes, I help." Yana nodded and a faint smile tou
ched her pouty lips. "Rin and Yana find stars together. Stars is real or story?"

  "Yes, Yana, stars are real. And they're beautiful. We'll find them together."

  Now we sit here together, sharing a large yellow mushroom that Yana insists is okay to eat. It tastes somewhat like meringue, with just a hint of garlic. I've seen these mushrooms frequently, so it looks like I have something other than my dwindling rations to eat.

  Yana seems so young, perhaps no more mature than my Alon was when he died. I couldn't protect him, but I can do my best to protect her. She's almost impossibly thin and pale, but that may be more from cave life than starvation. I'm not sure what's normal for an Uldru. She looks a little like a gnome, a little like a goblin, and a little more like an elf than either of those, but not enough to classify her as any race I've ever seen before. I wonder what other civilizations lurk in the depths of the world.

  No more screams for now, just distant growls and rumbles. I'm going to escape this place, and I'm taking Yana with me.

  Day 5, part 3

  Yana is asleep on my lap, so my penmanship might get a little messy for this entry. I don't mind the hideous handwriting if you don't. I've missed being able to allay the fears of a child.

  She could be older than I originally thought, maybe the equivalent of a six or eight year old. I have no idea how the Uldru age or how large they are at maturity so I have little to compare her to aside from my own children. Yana is little like them physically. Fair, half-elven Shan was always tall for his age, and lithe but never skinny. Fully-human Tessen was a loud and chubby child who is now growing into a polite, strong young adult.

  I don't know what Alon would look like now if he'd lived. He appeared human at first glance, but his half-Faeline father passed some interesting traits down to him. The pupils of Alon's eyes were vertically elongated, his shaggy black hair covered slightly pointed ears, and he kept his plush tail carefully tucked into his clothing. Ragan did the same, but his Faeline features were more pronounced so he couldn't manage complete concealment. He wasn't embarrassed by his kinship with the Cat Fae, but he never wanted to call attention to it since Fae are not viewed as trustworthy by most of Bacra.

  I had met Ragan several times before the Utanc excursion, but I never actually knew him as anything other than my employer's son before we were assigned to a job together. The primary rule of orc jobs is that you never work alone, so Mordegan paired me with Ragan. My attraction to him was forged over two weeks of cold nights on the plains, and I was surprised when he reciprocated. By the time we returned to Jadeshire, we were fully in love and assumed we had a long future together. We conceived Alon a few months later. It was several years before I realized that my attraction to Ragan was purely physical, because his personality and irritating habits often left me disgusted. Jadeshire laws concerning Fae wouldn't allow him to marry me, not that he wanted to anyway.

  I only stayed with him as long as I did because of Alon. Despite his numerous flaws, Ragan was a wonderful and doting father. Alon's death left him first devastated, then completely unhinged. He left me three years ago, supposedly to return to his mother's home in the Faelands, and I haven't heard from him since. I miss who he was as a father and occasionally as a lover, but I don't miss his hygiene issues, unprovoked profanity, or general uselessness around the house. I never understood that last one because he was a capable warrior and a helpful companion while out on a mission. Despite his myriad flaws, he was never anything but gentle with me and the children. I suppose I still love him in some regards. We'd likely still be together, and even have another child or two by now, if Alon's death hadn't turned us into abrasive strangers who couldn't stand to look at each other. I hope Ragan has found something or someone to make him happy. He deserves to be. If you happen to find my body and this journal in time, let him know I still care about him. I never want him back in my bed, but I care nonetheless.

  Yana stirs against my legs. She's a restless sleeper and often whimpers. I'll protect her, and if she can tolerate the light at the surface, maybe I'll even take her home with me. If she wants that. I've always wanted a daughter, so it's probably a fanciful dream to wish this strange-looking creature to become mine. I know nearly nothing about her, her people, or her captors, so why am I so entranced by the idea? Perhaps I'm too maternal for my own good, and my association with Yana will lead to us both being killed by her slavers. I'll fight for her and for myself, but if we die, so be it. We're together now and I'm going to protect her until I can't anymore.

  For now I stay in this moment, and I'll drift into a light and fitful sleep. Yana will probably transition into Alon in my dreams. I was powerless to prevent his death, but there is no reason I can't fight to prevent hers. Hopefully we won't have to worry about that. Hopefully we'll find the surface before the Varaku or anything else finds us.

  Day 6

  All of these tunnels look the same. Have I see this rock formation before? This pit? This protruding chunk of ore? Yana was nearly silent as she urged me onward. I assumed her rush was to make as much distance between us and the Varaku as possible, but the lack of differentiation along the route made me paranoid that we were going in loops. I doubt we were, since the elevation feels different and the air isn't as heavy where we are now, but my mind can't make sense of any of this flight. It's exhausting and I find myself having to rest far more often than I'd like.

  Cave time is even worse than cave space. Without natural light, I can only guess at the passage of time. This feels like the sixth day, but I could be wrong. It could be day three or day twenty and I wouldn't know the difference. The spacing between my rations is based on hunger and not on time. The darkness eats away at the minutes and leaves the hours grasping for a loose root to slow their descent into the abyss.

  We're usually too busy concentrating on our footing to talk to each other, and Yana has said little aside from the occasional inquiry into why I'm here. All I can tell her over and over is, "I don't know. I woke up here and can't find my way out. I just want to go home to my family."

  "What home? What family?" Yana asked once we came to rest near a cluster of cave mushrooms. I wasn't sure if she didn't know the meaning of the words or if she was asking me to give her more details on my home and family. She fell asleep before I could give her any sort of answer.

  Yana is still napping now, but I'm restless. Too many dangers and too many dreams to drift into any more than a fitful doze while my internalized sundial believes it could be daytime.

  I did sleep, briefly. Maybe. I don't remember time passing, but I do remember dreaming. While rumbles shook the distant bedrock, I dreamed of my first two sons. They were new again—Shan a year old and Tessen just a newborn.

  I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by pillows and crying while my babies nursed and the midwife called me a whore. Of course she did. Everyone did. Two babies with two fathers in the span of a year, and I was only eighteen. "Do you even know who their fathers are?" was all the midwife asked. Over and over, between mutters of whore and tramp. “Do you know? Do you?”

  "Of course I do," I replied. I'd only ever been with two men, after all, and both gave me babies. Daelis and Rohir, and neither deserved to be called fathers. Once Rohir ran off with the money Daelis had bribed me with, he didn't deserve to know Tessen. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I said, "I know and so do they. It's none of your concern, so leave me alone about it."

  The roomed darkened and the midwife turned into a gigantic cave mushroom with six glowing eyes and row upon row of jagged teeth. I screamed and held my babies close, but when I looked down at them, they had changed too. They were no longer my sweet, beautiful children. Shan had become a male version of Yana and Tessen had become a snowman. Their mouths were bloody. They were eating me alive.

  I jolted awake and transitioned from one nightmare to another. It's not sixteen years ago. I'm not home in my bed. I'm in a cave, and this nightmare is real. My reality is this clammy darkness and the strange child on my lap.
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br />   Yana stirs now. Her eyes still closed, she whispers, "I think the Jarrah bring you. The Jarrah put others like you in caves. I never seen. Heard stories.”

  "Who is Jarrah?" I ask.

  "Not who. What. The Jarrah. Monster with pretty face."

  "What happened to the others?"

  "I hear stories. Some die fast. Some not. The Jarrah like to play."

  Yana rolls over. Her breaths resume the slow, deep pattern of sleep.

  Is this Jarrah a person, a title, a name bestowed upon a monster by an enslaved people? Is it real at all or does it reside only in the dreams and nightmares of a little lost girl? I've never heard the name before, so if Jarrah is a person, he or she must go by a different name in my world, the surface world. I'll have to ask Yana more about it when she's awake. I'll let her sleep for now.

  Day 6, part 2

  I'm hungry. Famished. I don't think I've ever felt this hollow, this... this cavernous. I suppose my body will get used to the reduced food intake if it's forced to. For now, though, I am in pain. Every time I eat my tiny rations, my guts twist and scream for more. I'm almost certain the mushrooms cause more hunger than they take away. Yana insists that they are "good food", but I'm not so sure.

  The fatigue is the worst side effect of this hunger. I'm weak and unsteady. My arms seem disconnected from my torso as I drag myself through jagged tunnels barely wide enough to contain my body. Spry and tiny Yana has no such problem, and often forgets about my comparatively ridiculous size.