by Rob J. Hayes
"That's not what I meant," I said. "I've seen you before, staring up a tunnel ceiling. I don't know this part of the Pit well. Is this the same tunnel as before?"
When Tamura lowered his head to look at me I saw an odd smile on his face. It's frustrating, but he stares through you, rather than at you.
"No," he said slowly. "There are many tunnels. This one is not as promising as the last."
"Promising?" I asked.
"Not very at all," he said. "What do you see when you look up?"
I saw rock, mostly dark grey. Shadows playing across it as the flames of the lantern danced. I told Tamura as much and he laughed at me. I had little time for the old man's games and I very nearly left there and then. Something in his dark eyes stopped me. I thought then it was a glint of madness and I wanted to see how deep it went. I know now it was the opposite side of the coin from madness; it was wisdom and it went deeper than the hole in the ground we stood in.
"You see stone because you are trapped," Tamura said. "Locked in by viewing the world as what is instead of what can be. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. Or maybe you just don't feel it yet." His speed surprised me. One moment he was staring up at the ceiling prattling away to himself and the next he had me gripped by the shoulders, pulling me to where he had been standing just a moment before. He's a strong man, even ancient as he is now. It wasn't the brute strength of Hardt, but more a wiry power to his emaciated arms.
He manoeuvred me into position and then stood back, staring at me with an expectant look on his face. "Hmm?" He grunted.
"What should I be feeling?" I asked. At that point I wasn't sure what scared me more; another round of chase the Eska with Prig or being trapped in a dark tunnel with an old crazy Terrelan.
"Stop talking and listen," Tamura said. "You are trapped down here, seeing only what you think is real. You see rock, stone. Solid. I see possibility. I see stars. Gashes in the sky. Holes where the world pours through."
I have said most people think Tamura to be crazy and there is a good reason for it. He speaks in riddles and ideas more metaphysical than most can grasp. The wisdom is there, for those willing to dig into it and decipher whichever puzzle he chooses to use on that day. But for all the love in the world, he is a pain in the arse.
"Stars?" I asked, grasping onto the only part of his madness I could understand. "Are you saying it's night up above? How do you know? Or do you mean the specks in the rock? The way the lantern light glints off the minerals?"
"No. No. No. Stop talking. Stop thinking. Feel."
I raised my head to the ceiling and pondered his words. Actually, I was deciding how easy it would be to push past him and run. The pain in my ribs did a good job of convincing me to procrastinate a little more.
The slap caught me completely unaware and the pain that blossomed on my wounded cheek made me cry out. Tamura did not soften his blow and caught the oozing wound Prig's whip had left.
"Sand-eating sludge-licking fucker!" I cursed and straightened up, intent on fighting my way clear of the mad man.
"Stop thinking." Tamura pointed to his left cheek and then up to the ceiling. "Feeling."
My cheek felt as though it were dipped in fire and I could feel fresh tears welling in my eyes. Despite that pain, the humiliation, and the certainty that Tamura was a mad man trying to make me look a fool– despite it all, I raised my face to the rock above once more and stopped.
There is a technique all first years at the Orran Academy are taught. It's meditation. The act of silencing the mind and listening to the body. Isolating limbs and organs. Biomancers are even able to extend that feeling into another's body, to determine which bits are broken and how they should be put back together. I am not a Biomancer and I have never been good at telling my mind to be silent, but I reached for that meditation then. I listened to my body and it told me it fucking hurt.
I had a cracked rib on the right side of my chest and knew without looking I would be a motley of bruises. It hurt to simply breathe and would for weeks. There is little more painfully annoying than a bruised breast when running is in order, and I had done quite a bit of it. My body informed me it would rather we not attempt any more sprints for a while. I was bruised elsewhere as well, everywhere almost. My muscles were weak from the exertion and exhaustion. My stomach, as always, was an empty pit that never felt full. My bottom lip was swollen and I bled from a hundred tiny cuts and scrapes. My cheek stung like I had recently tried to eat a wasp's nest and it was making my teeth ache too.
But there was something else. Something cool and light brushing across the heat of my cheek. I knew the feeling, though it had been so long since I had felt it last. It was the wind blowing down through the rock, coming out down there in that tunnel right where I was standing. It was so light I would have missed it a thousand times had Tamura not made me try to feel it.
I felt something powerful blossom inside of me. It was something the overseer and Prig had torn away from me bit by bit. Something they had worn down with their beatings and the psychological games. I felt hope again. Not hope of rescue, but hope of a way out, all the same.
Most people would look up at the stone above them and see rock trapping them in. Tamura looked up and saw the stars in the night sky. I looked up and saw something else. I saw escape. Freedom. I saw my way out.
Chapter 13
"You said this one is not as promising as the last?" I was perhaps a little more agitated than I intended, but the barest taste of freedom will do that to a person after six months trapped underground. "There are others?"
Tamura nodded, gently pushing me away and reclaiming his position underneath the breeze. "One hundred and four so far," he said. "Some breeze, some gust. One drips. Drip. Drip. Drip."
"Which one is the most promising?" I gripped hold of Tamura's arm and he twisted away, dislodging my hand and sending me stumbling backwards with a gentle push. Then he went back to staring at the ceiling.
"Fourteenth level from the top. Not bottom. Tunnel twelve near the mouse-bear intersection. Foreman Polega's team used to dig there, but that was… some years ago. I haven't seen Polega since the new king took over."
It took me a moment to decide which question to ask first. I will admit, I had quite a few. Tamura's ramblings have always had a habit of spawning more questions than they answer. "You memorise every tunnel down here with names and numbers?" I asked. The scope of it is baffling. There were hundreds of tunnels down in the Pit, maybe even thousands. Forty-two levels at least, each one with dozens of tunnels and tunnels branching off from tunnels into yet more tunnels. There was no map of the Pit because to even attempt such a thing would be impossible. And yet Tamura had somehow done it, in his head.
"Of course," Tamura said. "How else would I know where I am?"
This was my first real brush with Tamura's insanity and I thought it to be just that. These days I realise it was a unique way to make sense of a jumbled mind. He babbled like a punch-drunk toddler at times, but there was no one down there who knew the maze of tunnels quite like Tamura.
"Where are we now?"
"Tenth level from the top. Not bottom. Tunnel five along the starfish-spider intersection."
I started to wonder if he named each corridor after animals. "Starfish-spider?"
"A starfish has five legs as a star has five points," he said. "A spider has eight legs like the symbol for infinity after a bad fall." He chuckled. "This intersection has six and a half tunnels."
"Half a tunnel?"
"Yes. Listen." Tamura cupped a hand to his ear and frowned. "Hmm. No digging. Maybe the stars aren't out anymore."
I have never been the most patient of women and with a cracked rib and an oozing cheek, what little patience I had was worn away by pain and exhaustion. "So, if we're on level ten and the most promising crack in the rock is on level fourteen, all we need to do is go down four levels?"
Tamura nodded. "Four levels and half the world away," he said. "First, we go up, to go down. Then, back up."<
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"Can you take me there?" I wanted to leave the old man's madness to himself. I wanted to go back to my cavern and curl up with Josef. But I couldn't. Prig wouldn't quit looking for me and the next place he'd go would be our cavern. I needed to find a way out or find a way to protect myself.
"Of course." Without another word Tamura started towards the starfish-spider intersection, leaving me hurrying to catch up. I had no idea at that time whether he was leading me to the most promising crack or heading off to find somewhere to sleep. But I followed along all the same. I didn't see I had any other choice. Tamura had become my best chance of getting out of the Pit before Prig killed me.
I kept Tamura talking as he led me upwards. I asked him how long he'd been in the Pit and he responded by asking how long had I been alive. I quizzed him mostly on the cracks and how he found them. I was trying to decipher the code even then, trying to sort the wisdom from the nonsense. So many years later, I still haven't truly managed. Sometimes I think it's like searching for a gem in a quarry, other times I think it's more like searching for a gem in a fucking treasury full of gems.
He led me up to the fifth level and to the lift there. I hesitated, holding back even as Tamura pulled the rope that would let the operator below know someone was waiting. I cursed myself for being afraid. Prig's friend, the lift operator, was one of those chasing me, but he would not be operating the lift now. Even if he was, I shouldn't have been so scared. I was still a child in many ways, small in stature and weak. With a Source in my stomach I could have brought the Pit down around me, but I didn't have a Source. I had no choice but to rely on others to get me through the situation I had created. I wasn't sure I could rely on Tamura, but I already had a plan forming.
We rode down the lift in silence. I will admit, I kept my distance from Tamura. It would take little effort for him to push me over the edge and I didn't yet trust him. Part of that distrust was because I didn't yet know him, and part of it was because he was clearly as crazy as a bucket of razor eels.
I could hear the general buzz of the main cavern before the lift even touched down. It was feeding time at the Trough and I felt my stomach rumble at the thought. Tamura started forward straight away, angling to the right. His direction would take us past the Hill and towards another lift.
"Up, then down, then up again," I said and earned an emphatic nod from the old man. I touched his arm lightly, not wanting him to pivot and send me crashing to the ground. I'm not sure my body could have taken another beating. I was already limping and cradling my ribs with every step.
"Wait for me," I said as Tamura glanced at me. "Stop here." I took a deep breath. "I need to see Deko before we go on."
The old man shrugged and collapsed onto his arse, crossing his legs beneath him. For as long as I've known Tamura he's always had the patience of a glacier. I'm more like the weather. I work to my own schedule and wait for no one, carving my own path through the world.
I approached the Hill at a steady limp, knowing full well I was being watched all the way. Deko was at the centre and I would have to pass through the mass of foremen and his captains to get to him. There was no way of telling if any were loyal to Prig. It wouldn't take much for any one of them to stop me if they chose to.
"Run away, little scab," said one of the foremen, standing up from his stone stool and blocking my path.
It's fair to say I was in no mood to be turned away by a peon with no authority. "Get out of my fucking way, scum sniffer," I said. "I'm here to see Deko and he's going to want to hear what I have to say."
The foreman was tall and broad, yet he couldn't meet my icy stare. I think he might have been angry at my lack of respect, but I didn't give him a chance to act upon it. I stepped to the side and continued into the heart of the Hill.
I didn't know it at the time, but I was doing something no scab had ever done before. Deko had made sure the Hill was a place of terror for us scabs. It was home to all those who tormented us; those who could kill us for less than no reason at all. No scab had ever willingly walked into the Hill without an escort. No other fucker was crazy enough to try. I'm amazed they let me get as far as I did.
The foremen let me thread my way through the throng, but they didn't leave me alone. I was pushed more than once and sent stumbling into tables. I'm ashamed to say I cried out in pain a couple of times, but I didn't let that stop me. It was like walking into a pit of hungry snap-backs; wild animals on every side and if just one of them decided to take a bite they would tear me to pieces. Luckily for me, the wild animals let me pass mostly unharmed. It wasn't until the ring of captains surrounding Deko that I was stopped.
Horralain, perhaps the only man in the Pit larger than Hardt, rose from a nearby table. The murderous arsehole was faster than I gave him credit for. Or maybe I was slower. A meaty hand wrapped around my neck and suddenly I was choking, lifted from the ground. The pain in my ribs might have made me scream but for the hand gripping my throat. I think I have Horralain to thank for the croak that sometimes creeps into my voice even now; the damage he did to me never fully healed. I also have Horralain to thank for the reputation I earned down there. Thanks to him, the whole Pit was watching my confrontation with Deko. The other scabs might not know what I said to him, but they knew I survived it.
My vision was going dark when Deko's voice cut through the whooping and braying. "Put her down. Let's see what the little scab has to say this time."
Horralain did not put me down. The bastard fucking dropped me. My legs hit the stone and crumpled underneath me. I might have been embarrassed at that, but I was far too busy sucking down air and coughing it back up. If you've ever had a coughing fit with a cracked rib you might understand why there were fresh tears in my eyes when finally, I got back to my feet to face Deko.
The ruler of the Pit was at the same table as before. His little court, surrounded by his most trusted and feared captains. He had a bowl of gruel in one hand, and a loaf of bread fresher than any I'd seen in the past six months in the other.
"Didn't expect you back so soon," Deko said around a mouthful of food, showering me with crumbs. That said a lot. Us scabs wouldn't dare waste food like that. Even crumbs were valuable. "You haven't got another shiv on you, have you?"
My first few words were raspy and painful, like my throat was full of gravel. Being strangled will do that to you. "You... You said... You needed an Impomancer."
Deko laughed and leaned forward as he dipped his bread in the bowl of gruel. "Not right now," he said.
I held his gaze. "Not ever." My throat was raw but I doubted Deko's rotten sycophants were going to offer me a drink. "Not unless you give me something."
That knocked the smile from his face. The crowd reacted to Deko's mood so quickly I almost thought him an Empath, though I knew better than to believe there was an Empamancy Source down in the Pit. The nearby captains fell silent and Deko placed his food on the table behind him. I look back on that moment and feel the trepidation even now. I was betting everything on his need for someone with the knowledge of creatures summoned from the Other World. Walking a razor thin line with death on either side.
"I don't fucking like ultimatums," Deko said. His dark eyes shone and I wondered if they would be the last thing I ever saw. "Or threats. Or requests."
"It's none of them," I croaked. "It's a bloody fact. Either you protect me from Prig, or I won't be around long enough to help you."
"Overseer cut you loose, huh?" Deko let out a loud laugh.
I nodded. "He didn't like what I had to say."
I was shaking as Deko considered the proposal. Fear, adrenaline, exhaustion, pain; all mixed into one, and I was trembling from the effort of keeping upright. I knew all of Deko's people were watching, knew the shaking made me seem weak. I might have been angry at that, but I was feeling numb inside. It had been a long fucking day.
"Willet," Deko said eventually. "Priggy is one of yours. Tell him this little bitch is off limits." He leaned forward again. "You belo
ng to me now, Eskara Helsene."
I smiled, or at least I tried to. I have learned that it is quite hard to smile with a swollen face. "This is the Pit," I said, already starting to turn. "We all belong to you." I hated myself for saying it, despite the fact that it was true.
I left the Hill the same way I entered, limping and trembling with dangerous beasts on all sides of me. It wasn't until I cleared the final group of foremen that I realised all the scabs were watching me. Hundreds of faces turned my way. In all my time down in the Pit I had never seen the Trough so quiet at feeding time. I turned away from their eyes and made my way back to Tamura.
Chapter 14
Kinemancy was the only attunement Josef and I shared. I remember being so happy the day we were tested for it and neither of us rejected the Source. It was something we could learn together, practice together. Another connection to strengthen the bond that had formed between us. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Josef's progress with the school to leave me behind. The tutors considered him a genius, a student the likes of which hadn't been seen since Prince Loran. Maybe they were right. Maybe Josef could have been that great, but he didn't have the temperament.
I remember reading about Prince Loran's studies at the academy. He was brilliant, that much was obvious to all the tutors, but he was also driven. The man the Terrelan's named the Iron Legion got that name because he was always willing to push the boundaries of what his magic could do, even at severe cost to his health. He didn't just want to learn, he wanted to pioneer. Now, I know it was more than that though. Prince Loran didn't just want to discover the unknown, he also wanted to rediscover the lost. It was a drive that almost cost us everything. Josef, on the other hand, wanted a quiet life. He might have been brilliant, but he would have been happy being nobody. Whereas I… I have always had the drive, but not the raw talent.
We were just two years into our studies when Josef first started to outpace me. We were training with Kinemancy in the practice yard. It was a large open square with various items of different shapes and weights to pick up and throw around. The walls were reinforced brick, coated with straw, designed to absorb the force of impacts. It is rarely the act of being thrown by psychokinesis that kills a person, and far more likely the impact of hitting something hard and unyielding. Much like gravity; it isn't the fall that kills, but rather the landing.
