“Which is why I have four of you working on it,” he answered unsympathetically.
His son was undeterred, “You said you wanted fifteen boxes done by the end of the week, but we won’t finish that many…”
Tyrion gave him a cold stare, “Why?”
Anthony took a deep breath, “It’s the stone. If it were just the enchantment we could probably finish them in time. It takes each of us only half a day to complete the runework on one, but hauling the stone and shaping the boxes takes a lot of time and effort. We need more help, especially for the simple work, like moving the materials from the quarry.”
“Where are the slaves? Ian and Layla should begin bringing them in soon.”
The boy shook his head, “Ryan says the first living quarters won’t be ready for a few weeks. Whatever you have him working on is taking most of his time, but I was thinking, why don’t we leave them in Ellentrea? At least for now. We could bring them in during the day and send them back in the evening…”
“No one who works here is going back there. Who knows what they might see? Tell Layla to bring twenty tomorrow. Half of them can work on the housing, and the others can assist you with the stonework,” ordered Tyrion.
“We have nowhere to keep them!”
“Let them sleep on the ground. It will give them more incentive to finish their work quickly.”
Anthony opened his mouth but closed it again almost immediately. He could sense it would be futile arguing with his father.
Tyrion started to turn away, but then he paused, “Have you seen Ryan?”
“No, he disappears every morning—along with Emma,” noted the young man with a tone of disapproval.
“I have them working on something together.”
Anthony looked concerned, “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Wiser than questioning my decisions,” answered Tyrion with a dangerous smile. “Blake is with them anyway.”
“Blake came back an hour ago,” observed his son.
***
Tyrion found them half an hour later, precisely where they were supposed to be, which of course was a location that none of the others had been told about, aside from Blake and Brigid.
The entrance was less than a quarter mile from Albamarl, in the direction of the foothills that stretched beyond the border of the Illeniel Grove. It was a good location because the ground was too hard there for the elders to put down roots. The doorway was built into one of the first rocky outcrops.
There was no door yet, but that didn’t matter. It would be finished later. Within the darkened archway a cave sloped downward before turning back and dropping yet further. The first chamber was at least a hundred yards and almost directly below the entrance above. It stretched for fifty yards in every direction with small alcoves cut into the walls. But that was not where Emma and Ryan were, they were still farther down, where no magesight could detect them.
He walked across the chamber until he had reached the last alcove. It was not noticeably different from any of the others, but when he put his hand against it and closed his eyes, the stone wall melted away, revealing another tunnel. No one but Tyrion and Emma could open this door, and thus far none of his other children had even been able to sense the tunnel behind it. He had tested it by watching Anthony and Violet’s reactions when they were first shown the chamber and directed them as to where the stasis boxes would be placed when they were finished.
To magesight, the earth presented a feeling of wholeness and solidity. Even Tyrion detected nothing out of the ordinary when he came near it. If he hadn’t known it was there already, he would never have suspected its presence.
But the earth answered his call and opened the way when he spoke to it. The tunnel sealed itself behind him as he descended, protecting the secrets that lay below once more. Aside from Emma and Ryan, only Brigid knew of the existence of the hidden tunnel.
It led him deeper into the bowels of the earth, until he could no longer even sense the surface above, and there he found them.
Ryan cradled his sister beside a stone pool that filled with water from a spring nearby. The water exited the pool to run down a channel along one wall of the large room before passing into another opening. The spring was new, the day before the pool had been dry.
Emma lay quietly, her head resting in Ryan’s lap while he stroked her hair. She appeared to be unconscious.
“Is she alright?” asked Tyrion as he approached them.
Ryan looked up with worried eyes, “I think so, maybe. It was close. I almost lost her this time.”
“The water?”
Ryan nodded.
Tyrion frowned, “Water is chaotic, she shouldn’t have risked it. Far easier to mold the earth and form the channels for it.”
His son’s eyes caught fire. “Then perhaps you should have done it yourself,” he said bitterly.
Tyrion rarely responded well to a challenge, but he calculated his words carefully this time, “You might be right, but I can’t do everything myself. She volunteered for this.”
Ryan looked away, “She had her reasons.”
Any excuse to be alone with you, thought Tyrion, but he knew better than to test his son by saying it. “You’ve made a lot of progress. Once Blake finishes the light stones, and you set the doors in here, it will be almost ready for use.”
“You still haven’t told us what you plan to use it for,” noted Ryan. “Why do you need water in here?”
“You don’t really want to know. You’ve probably figured some of it out already, based on the floorplan,” observed Tyrion.
“You’ll have to tell us. You’re going to need help,” said the younger man.
Tyrion sighed, “I know you’re committed Ryan, but your heart is still too kind for this. When I need assistance, it will be others I ask to get their hands dirty here.”
“I thought it might be a refuge at first,” said Ryan in a low voice. “The water would have made sense then, but the doors for these smaller rooms made it clear. They aren’t living quarters; they’re cells for a prison.”
Tyrion walked across the center area, stopping to examine the smooth walls of one of the cells. “That’s one name for it,” he answered.
“What do you think is going to happen to her?” asked Ryan suddenly, changing the subject.
“Hmm?”
His son was studying Emma’s features, worry on his face, “If she keeps doing this, I mean. Every time is different. When she comes back, she’s different, it’s as if she forgets who she is, or even what she is. She forgets who I am, and yesterday it was several minutes before she could even talk. What do you think it’s doing to her?”
Tyrion walked back to look down on the two of them. They made a beautiful picture together, a picture of young love, if only it weren’t for the disconcerting nature of their kinship. “I don’t know, Ryan, I honestly don’t. It’s like becoming something else, and when it’s over it’s hard to understand yourself. Sometimes it isn’t so bad, if you just go a little way, but the more you want to do, the farther you have to go. It feels as if you could go too far, could actually become what you’re working with, whether it’s the wind or the earth. I think we could be lost if that happens. That’s why I have you looking after her.”
Ryan’s hand left Emma’s face, so that he wouldn’t disturb her as his fist clenched, “But you still think it’s worth risking her?”
“No, I don’t,” said Tyrion, “but I will risk everything for this. She thinks it’s worth risking herself, and I won’t be the one to deny her the choice. All I can say is, that if the two of you survive the coming challenges, I will do the best I can to give you a chance to see the new world that follows this bloody business, but there are no guarantees.”
“Do we deserve that chance?” Ryan’s voice had taken on a tone of regret.
“What does that mean?”
“Because of how we feel,” answered the young man. “I know you must suspect us already. It isn’t natural
. It’s wrong.” Ryan paused, stroking Emma’s hair once more. “I can’t help it, though. I think we’re damned.”
“This whole fucking world is damned, boy, but I don’t think your love is part of that. I wouldn’t recommend having children, but I’m the last person to judge anyone for their sins, real or perceived.”
Ryan looked up, “You really think that?”
“Yeah,” said Tyrion, “and I think Emma already knows that as well. Don’t you, girl?”
She opened her eyes. “I’m not as slow to learn as he is,” she replied, putting her hand over Ryan’s.
Her brother pulled his hand away quickly, as though he had been burned, “How long have you been awake?” Shifting his legs, he eased her off his lap and moved away.
“Almost as long as I’ve been here,” said Tyrion. “You need to pay better attention to her aythar.”
“You should have said something Em’,” Ryan scolded.
Emma smiled, “I was enjoying the moment. You won’t even touch my hand anymore, but you’re terribly sweet when you think I’m asleep.”
Ryan flushed, but no one could see it in the dark. Tyrion only knew by the change in his expression and the jump the boy’s heart had made. “Now that you’re both awake, we need to talk. This is a good start, but we need more.”
“More what exactly?” asked Ryan suspiciously, glad for the distraction.
“More places like this, with more levels, hidden and otherwise,” said their father. “This is just the beginning.”
Emma frowned, “How much more?”
“Ryan will need to help us figure that out,” said Tyrion. “He’s better at those sorts of calculations, but I’m sure it will be many times more than this.”
Tyrion’s son was aghast, “You can’t expect all that of her! You know how dangerous this is!”
Emma held up one hand placatingly, “Ryan, please. It isn’t that bad. Whether it’s a small room or a massive chamber, it’s almost the same. I don’t actually do the work myself, the earth does.”
“Once they start bringing in the slaves you’ll have many more helpers to manage the finishing touches,” reassured Tyrion. “She only needs to do the big things that would take too long using just magic.”
“How many people are you planning to house in these places?” asked Ryan.
Tyrion told him.
Chapter 9
Ailayana Prathion walked softly through the fallen leaves. The ground was damp beneath them and it kept the fallen detritus soft as well, so her light footsteps were muffled, almost too quiet to hear. That was one reason she loved to walk after it had been raining, but she would have done so even if the weather had been dry.
She was grateful that she lived where she did, near the border the Prathion’s shared with the Illeniel Grove, for that meant she was never too far from the edge of the foothills. It was only by emerging from the boundary line that she got to see so much of the sun, and the sun was her favorite thing.
The rain had cleared the day before, so the sky was a scattered masterpiece of clouds across a blue canvas so large it defied imagination. The sun teased her, hiding now and again behind errant clouds only to pop out and dazzle her while she waited for it. It caught in her gold hair and despite the fact that her eyes seemed to share its color she was always forced to squint and shield her eyes with her black skinned hands.
Ailayana was well over two hundred years old, and with the world fully populated by the elders it might be much longer before she was ever given space to put down roots of her own, but she didn’t mind. A quiet life suited her and she longed for nothing more than the warm feel of sunlight on her skin.
It was quite a shock to her when the light disappeared, replaced with an empty void. No, not empty, the lightless space was filled with three others, baratti, two women and a man. One of them must be from Ellentrea for she was creating the invisibility shield that surrounded the area Ailayana had wandered into.
She could see them with her magesight now, though there was no light inside that sphere. The man watched her without moving, while the other woman stepped toward her. Even so, she felt no alarm, only curiosity. “What are you do…”
Ailayana’s world spun as she fell toward the dark earth beneath her. The woman had struck her without warning. She hadn’t even used any aythar, she had merely thrust upward with her palm, snapping Ailayana’s head back before she had realized the attack was coming. A second blow landed in her midsection and the last kick targeted her head. The world vanished.
“How was that?” asked Brigid, addressing her father.
“Better,” he returned, “At least you didn’t kill this one.”
“He surprised me,” groused Brigid.
“Surprised you? You cut him into three pieces before he had even stepped into the bubble! Layla told you he was almost to us. How could you be surprised?”
“I was surprised how much I enjoyed it,” replied the dark haired girl. “It’s harder to restrain myself than I thought it would be.”
“Well learn to do so,” said Tyrion, “or I won’t bring you next time. I brought you as a kindness, but if you keep killing them they’re of no use to me.”
“Then why did you keep his head?” interjected Layla.
“I might learn something from it, but I certainly don’t need any more bodies. Make sure you keep them in one piece from now on, Brigid.” After she had dismembered the first one Tyrion had called on the earth to swallow the rest of the body, but he had saved the She’Har male’s head. Dissecting it might provide some extra information he hoped. “Lift her up, Brigid, you’ll be the one carrying her.”
His daughter balked for a moment, “Why can’t Layla do it?”
“I’d rather she kept her attention on making sure we stay hidden,” he told her patiently. “We have a long walk back.”
“I still don’t understand why you want them alive,” complained Brigid. “Can I play with her later?”
“No,” barked Tyrion. “We aren’t taking them for torture, that would be pointless, although I doubt they’ll thank us for the kindness.” He smiled to himself. What he planned wouldn’t be torture, but he had no doubt it would be extremely unpleasant for his subjects.
“This was so easy,” remarked Brigid. “I don’t see why we can’t just take a few more. We could take as many as you need and I could play with the extra ones.”
“I’m nowhere near ready for that yet. Besides, while the She’Har don’t particularly worry about their children, if more than a few disappear they are bound to start wondering what’s going on,” explained Tyrion. “I can’t afford to make them suspicious at this point.”
Brigid levitated the She’Har woman’s body behind them as they traveled and Tyrion kept a close watch on her mental state. When Ailayana began to rouse he used his power to force her mind into a deep slumber.
Layla navigated, allowing only a tiny aperture for light to pass through into her invisibility shield. Since she was the only one that could see the others followed her closely but even so the size of the shield she was generating was beginning to become a serious drain on her reserves. The female warden didn’t have the seemingly endless quantities of aythar that Tyrion and his children did.
Tyrion had insisted that she cloak their movement before they had even left Albamarl that morning. He hadn’t wanted anyone to observe their coming or going. That had been hours ago. At that time the shield had been smaller as well, since the three of them could walk closely together, but with the addition of their unconscious captive the area around them she had to hide was greater. It wasn’t long before Layla was made well aware of the fact that even a small increase in the diameter of her shield meant a much larger increase in the power required to maintain it.
Though the air was relatively cool she had begun to sweat and it felt as if her heart was fluttering in her chest, but at the rate they were moving it would be hours more before they reached Albamarl.
“Damnitt, Layla! Keep
the shield stable!” spat Tyrion. Ripples had begun to appear in the invisibility bubble and faint waves of light and aythar had started passing through.
“I’m trying,” she answered and renewed her effort. “I don’t think I can cover an area this size much longer.”
“Let that shield drop and I’ll whip you blind!” he threatened.
They continued onward, but Layla knew she couldn’t keep it up much longer. “Tyrion, I can’t keep this up.”
“Godsdamnitt! Are you a child Layla? You should know your limits by now. You said you could manage a shield for at least half a day! It’s only been a few hours.”
“I’ve never made one this large,” she gasped. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. It felt as though she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.
“If there’s no one near we don’t need the shield anyway,” suggested Brigid.
“We are too close to the trees,” countered Tyrion. “They see much farther than you realize.”
“They’re probably asleep,” his daughter replied.
“They don’t sleep and they don’t forget,” said Tyrion. “It might be a week before they do anything. They think slowly, but don’t ever make the mistake of believing they aren’t paying attention.” He put a hand on Layla’s shoulder, her skin was cold and damp. “Stand still. Give me a few minutes more and I’ll let you rest.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Tyrion closed his eyes and opened his mind, casting his attention downward, letting his heart feel the rhythm of the earth. The coolness of dirt and stone enveloped him and his boundaries expanded. The soil beneath their feet shifted and they began to sink into the ground.
It was a disconcerting sensation for both Layla and Brigid, but they kept their silence as they sank downward, dirt and soil flowing around them like a strange fluid that never seemed to truly touch them or get them wet. When it finally stopped they were at least twenty feet beneath the surface in large pocket of air about ten feet across.
“You can release the shield,” Tyrion notified Layla. His voice sounded strange with discordant inflections.
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