by CM Raymond
Hannah searched him and found a set of large keys, then dragged the body toward the stand of bushes. “I’ve brought some pig shit as a gift for you,” she said as the branches reached out and pulled the body within.
She went back to the fire and kicked dirt over the pool of blood, then turned and crept down the hill.
She had misjudged the height of the hill. When she got to the bottom, she noticed the cave. It couldn’t have been large, but it was sealed shut by a metal gate.
Inside were the prisoners.
It was a small group, made up of all different ages. The luckiest, mostly old women and children, had threadbare blankets. The others shivered in the open with nothing but old cloaks to give them false hope for the possibility of warmth.
Nearly all of them looked strong in frame, though emaciated from poor rations and hard work. Just like Aysa, the majority of the people had long legs and arms. It indicated that they came from the same area as the Baseeki—all of them physically shaped by living for generations in the rocks overlooking the ocean.
A chill spread across Hannah’s spine when she realized that Aysa, the newest member of the Bitch and Bastard Brigade, might have been among the slaves lying in the cave that night if she had not escaped. Looking at these withered bodies, she couldn’t help but think that Aysa had gotten the better end of the deal by only losing an arm.
Just yesterday Unlawful had been flying directly overhead when Hannah read the concern on Aysa’s face. She didn’t need to ask; Hannah knew that they had come across the exact mines Aysa’s relatives and neighbors had been carted off to. Where Aysa had almost ended up.
The roamers took captives from every region they came through and sold them to places like this to serve the needs of some asshole ruler. It was a terrible injustice, one that was worth a brief stop to address.
Aysa hadn’t asked to stop. She was new to the team, after all, and she knew full well that they were on a strict timeline to get to the Oracle. She wasn’t quite sure what it was all about, but saving the world seemed like a pretty important task.
But Hannah wouldn’t have it. She had called down to Gregory and given the command to stop the ship. Looking at Aysa, whose face glowed in delight, she said, “The world isn’t worth saving if people like us fly over injustices like those.”
Not a single member of the team had objected.
A little over twenty-four hours later, their plan was in action. Hannah used the guard’s keys to sneak into the cave. No one even looked up.
There was an empty spot on the ground near several of the older women. Hannah laid down and pulled her cloak over her, already trying to convince her mind to give her a few hours of rest. On the cold hard ground, huddled between an old man and a girl no older than a child, Hannah knew she had made the right choice.
CHAPTER TWO
“All right, ya swine, get yer lazy asses up.”
Two men, tall and thick and wearing roughly sewn furs, stood near the entrance to the small cave. Hannah saw them coming, but pretended to still be sleeping.
One of the men overturned two baskets, one after the other, spilling piles of metal shackles onto the ground. “Time to get your uniforms on!” His eyes flashed over the area as the slave labor woke and gathered their things.
Hannah could tell the guards knew something was off. The night shift had been missing when they arrived. She’d hoped they’d assume he had finished his booze and wandered into the woods to pass out. She cursed, knowing that a suspicious set of enemies could foil the plan.
Keeping one eye on the men with the whips, Hannah mimicked the enslaved people’s actions, gathering her own stuff and shuffling toward the piles of cuffs. While in line she pulled her hood over her head. The morning was chilly, so she hoped none would be the wiser. Being spotted by the guards or one of the captives could be catastrophic.
This morning she could see clearly that not all the prisoners looked like the Baseeki. There were plenty of folks who resembled her. She breathed a little easier. It wouldn’t be so hard to blend in after all.
Stick to the plan, she told herself. Stick to the plan, and you’ll be out of here in no time.
The simple cuffs snapped into place, and Hannah could hardly hold back a smile. A child with just a hint of magical abilities would be out of these faster than they could change their britches, but they were apparently effective on the workers.
She wondered why they had never risen to overthrow their captors, but then she remembered that this had been the state of the Boulevard for so many years. They had been convinced that it was just the way the world was, and for that to change a seismic shift needed to happen. For Arcadia, that shift came in the form of Ezekiel.
For these people, it was up to Hannah.
One of the men inspected the line from a distance. He wasn’t very careful, which was to Hannah’s advantage. Nodding, he said, “Good, now keep yer damn mouths shut and move yer good-fer-nothing asses. If I hear any talking…” His threat hung in the air. Everyone knew the drill. It was the same threat he made every morning—one they had all learned came with teeth.
The other guard cracked a whip overhead, and the people moved. They marched silently on a well-trodden path leading directly to the mouth of the mine. If things had been different, Hannah would have found the landscape beautiful. They weren’t far from the coast, but the surroundings here were different, softer. The rolling hills were lush with an emerald-green carpet of grass, and the trees, the bushes, and even the flowers were starting to bloom. Springtime came earlier in this part of the world. She had never considered that before, always assuming that everywhere was the same as the Arcadian Valley.
But that beauty disappeared as soon as they entered the mouth of the mine.
Hannah was ushered in like all the other workers and given a pickaxe. She gripped the wooden shaft and eyed the guards standing around the entrance. Fifty slaves with pickaxes in their hands against a dozen or so guards. She laughed, realizing the kind of damage a rebellion could do in this place.
For half the morning she swung the axe next to a woman who had to have been three times her age. Although old and worn from years of hard labor, the hunchbacked woman nevertheless did what she could, hammering the steel pick against the solid rock wall.
Without stopping or even looking over, the woman finally said, “First day.” It was a comment, not a question.
Hannah followed suit and kept her pick moving at the same pace. “It’s that obvious?”
“I’ve been here long enough to know what it looks like when someone’s new to the work. Don’t worry, you’ll develop callouses soon enough, although it will take you awhile before you stop cursing the Matriarch.”
Hannah smiled a little as she realized that people everywhere talked about the Queen Bitch, even if they all had slightly different names for her. “None of this is the Matriarch’s fault. You can’t blame her for every douche nugget in Irth.”
The old woman nodded. “Well, at least you’ve got a tough attitude. That will help. Not Baseeki,” she said. “I mean, with those short little arms and legs of yours. Where’d they get you from?”
For a moment, Hannah almost hoped the guard would come and tell them to shut the hell up. She hadn’t thought of a cover story, since she hadn’t expected to need one. “Me? I’m from all over. I was raised in the west, far from Baseek, but lately I’ve just been on the road. Me and…” She let the words drift in the darkness of the cave.
The woman stopped, resting the pick on her shoulder. For the first time, she turned to face Hannah. “You lost someone.”
Hannah also paused and pushed her hand across her cheek, wiping away imaginary tears. “I did.” She placed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes tightly. “I’m sorry. It’s only been a few days. I can hardly believe he’s really gone.”
The woman reached out a hand and placed it on the back of Hannah’s neck. “I lost one too. Years ago. I’m so sorry.”
Hannah nodde
d. Her lie had been effective, even if she felt badly for using it on the kindly old woman. “I’d rather not talk…”
The woman returned to her work. “I know, dear. Take it out on the wall.”
For hours, they worked just like that. The only sound that filled their corridor of the mine was the sound of tapping pickaxes. Once or twice Hannah’s stomach growled so loudly she could swear it had echoed down the hall. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she started picking her spots, little cracks that ran from floor to ceiling. Frustration filled her, and she glanced at the woman on her right, who was lost in her daily task.
Hannah closed her eyes and let the power grow beneath her. Pushing it into the tool, she swung, paying no heed to the cracks in the wall.
The rock exploded and the woman shouted, stepping back. Opening her eyes, Hannah looked down to find rubble covering her feet.
The woman gazed at her, eyes wide in disbelief. “Damn. You working some magic over there?”
Hannah laughed and flipped her hair back over her shoulders. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
She looked back at the wall; she had removed the surface of the rock. In the faint light she saw gems sparkling. Leaning in, she looked at their beautiful purple hue, the insides almost milky white.
“Amphoralds?” Hannah asked.
The old woman furrowed her brow and asked, “What’s an amphorald? Those right there are purple jade, dear.”
“What are they used for?”
The woman gave her another funny look. “Used for? Well, for looking good, I guess. They get turned into jewelry or ornaments. Stuff like that.”
“What?” Hannah said, barely containing her anger. “All of this is so some asshat can show off to his friends?”
Hannah’s partner sighed. “You’re young. You don’t know. That’s just the way of the world.”
Not if I have anything to say about it, Hannah thought. She kept her feelings to herself, though. Soon enough she’d be able to let the anger out.
Hannah choked all the way up on her pickaxe and dug at the purple stones. Six of them, each nearly the size of her fist, fell out of the wall into her left hand. She placed each in a canvas sack she had been given.
“You’ll be treated all right for those,” the woman said.
Hannah held the jade to the lights and tried to see through it, but it was impossible. It was as if she were looking into the milky purple eyes of some magician she hadn’t met yet. “The men, they pay for these?”
The old woman laughed, slapping the side of her hip as her body convulsed. “No, honey. There’s no pay out here for anything, but if you bring in a score, they’ll take care of you for a little bit. Rocks like that on your first day, I imagine you‘ll be eating all right at dinnertime. If the boss is in a good mood, he might just leave you alone tonight.”
Hannah looked at the large stone, then handed it to the older woman. She protested at first, but after Hannah gave a little nod, her partner relented and accepted, gratitude shining in her eyes.
“You should take this for yourself. Start off right.” The woman’s eyes were fastened on the rock in her hands.
Hannah gave her a warm smile. “No, thanks. I’m not going to need them anyway.”
The woman tilted her head to the side as if confused. She clicked her tongue on her teeth three times as if she were drawing the attention of an animal. “Sorry, dear. We all thought that when we first showed up. I held onto that hope for six months, but I’m still here.”
She placed the large stone in her own satchel. “I owe you one…”
“Hannah. The name’s Hannah.”
Pursing her lips, the woman pushed a hand toward Hannah. “A pleasure, Hannah. I’m Polly. Welcome to the Jannas Mines—literally hell in Irth.”
“Oi!” a gruff voice shouted down the corridor. “It’s not break time yet, ya dirty hags. Get back to work before I come down and show you what real pounding looks like.”
Another man joined him for a laugh.
“Dickstick,” Hannah mumbled.
Polly laughed and Hannah thought she turned red, which seemed impossible given their circumstances. They picked up their pickaxes again, and Hannah knew she had to get Polly and the other slaves out of here pretty soon.
Patience, she thought. Gotta wait for the right moment.
****
They worked like that for what felt like a week, but must have only been another few hours. Despite all the battle training Karl had done with her, this kind of work was a bear. Hannah’s shoulders were starting to get tight, and she couldn’t help but wonder how the old woman could do this day in and day out.
She laughed to herself, thinking that maybe it would do Gregory some good to become a slave to these people, at least for a week or two. But if everything went according to the plan, these bastards would all be crispy by the end of the afternoon.
However, she first needed to know more about this operation—their numbers, movements, and fighting capabilities. The Bitch and Bastard Brigade were tough as nails, but Hannah would be damned if she’d let them run in blind. She was new at this whole leadership thing, but she knew that much.
Plus, this was as much a rescue mission as revenge. These slavers had cost Aysa her arm, but they were also creating a living hell daily for people like Polly. Hannah wouldn’t rest until this place was a ruin, but she didn’t want to make it a tomb for the victims of the slavers’ greed.
So while Karl and Parker readied for a fight, Hannah continued to keep her head down on the inside, gathering whatever intel she could. They would attack at dusk.
“Okay, you hags,” the same voice yelled down the hall again. “Gotta feed the cattle if ya want to keep ‘em working.”
Grimacing, the woman nodded at Hannah. “They mean us. Lunchtime, if you can call it that.”
She put her pickaxe down and leaned the handle against the wall, then lifted her leather satchel full of the purple stones.
Hannah followed Polly down the corridor. It took diligence not to trip on the scattered rubble. Polly walked as smoothly as the Baseeki did over their own rocky ground. It always amazed her how people could adapt so quickly to a place.
Momentary blindness hit Hannah as they stepped out of the cave into the open air. Her eyes darted around the landscape, which she’d barely had a chance to investigate that morning. The trees were thick beyond the spot where the prisoners slept. A few ramshackle huts were close by, and a bigger one, a house that looked rather palatial compared to the others, stood by itself. She assumed that was Pislik’s place.
Her eyes lifted to the cobalt sky overhead. The day was completely clear except for one enormous cloud, which hung motionless like a stain against the blue.
“On the line, on the line,” the man who had led them out of the mine said. He was an ugly fellow with a huge waist and a wart the size of an apple on his cheek. “Quit dicking around, or you get nothing.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t eaten it all,” some brave soul said, drawing a snicker from the crowd. Wartface looked around to figure out who’d said it and settled for a young kid who was laughing a little too loudly and standing a little too near.
Hannah heard the kid’s teeth rattle when the guard slugged him.
“Anything else you want to add?”
The kid, who couldn’t have been older than seventeen, rubbed his jaw and shook his head.
“Good.” The broad, brash man turned toward an open spot between the huts and Pislik’s palace. “Set the table,” he yelled. A team of five men dressed just like the one standing before them carried baskets toward the clearing.
They overturned them, spilling bread and cheese and even a few hunks of dried meat onto the grass. Hannah looked down the line of captives; each of them now looked hungry enough to kill. Her stomach turned over, but it wasn’t from hunger. She was on the line, a competitor in a torrid race to see who would go back to work with a full belly.
She stole a glance at Polly, who
stood at the ready. “Is this for real?”
The woman didn’t even look up. Her eyes were glued on the piles of food in the middle of the grassy expanse. “More real than anything I’ve ever known. And it’ll be our only meal today, so I recommend you get your fill if you can.”
Hannah glanced at Wartface. His eyes were wild with glee. These men were beyond bad—they were sadistic.
Keep to the plan, she told herself. You can kill them later.
“Go!” the man shouted.
Almost everyone shot out of their spot and aimed for the piles. A few people, older folks, settled onto the grass. They knew they didn’t stand a chance, so might as well make peace with hunger rather than pay dearly in lumps for trying to grab a scrap of stale sourdough.
Everyone collided at once and body parts flew in every direction. Hannah took an elbow to the jaw, but she wasn’t sure if it was a calculated attack or just a haphazard motion that had found her chin. She clawed through the pile carefully. A few were cursing and fighting hard. Others were more in a wrestling match among friends.
When she got close to the food, she saw her friend Polly crawling out of the heap holding a bloody nose.
“You OK?” Hannah shouted.
Polly forced a smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. She hadn’t gotten a share of the meal. Now Hannah had something worth fighting for.
Hannah pushed her way through the crowd toward the piles of food. The people scrambling around her were, she knew, good folks. Common prisoners driven to fight out of a need to survive. Many of them, like Hannah, were trying to procure a few morsels for family members and friends who weren’t strong enough to fight for themselves.
She pushed and turned people as gently as she could. Polly was her one concern, and she was determined not to go back empty-handed.
Finally making it to the center of the circle, she tucked a loaf of bread under one arm and snatched some fruit. A hand landed on her shoulder; the grip was like a vice. She turned, looking into the gaze of a twenty-something man, also driven by an empty stomach and likely years of slave labor. Deep and steely gray, the eyes looked both cruel and broken. He had been through enough to make him a little less human.
