"We need a bigger hole then!" Urt shoved him out of the way and began clawing at the opening. Rock scrapped knotted knuckles and drew greenskin blood. Soon, blood oozed from the widening hole like a slobbering monster.
Urt ripped chunk after chunk until he made an opening just wide enough for them. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on his mottled skin. He wiped his brow and motioned for the opening. "Welcome to the other side, Boil."
Boil swallowed and plucked his torch from the ground. He held the flame to the hole, thrusting the fire into the black. Even then, it did not light whatever waited beyond. Despite the black, he felt the weight of something staring back. There was intelligence in the black. Patient. Strong.
"It's all just empty," he whispered.
"Let's go inspect it. You can't be this close now to get the jitters just because it's a little dark. Step through and I'll follow. We'll do this together."
"I don't know...."
"For Ember, Boil. Do this for her. Or I suppose we can slink back up to the mine masters and beg forgiveness from them? I'm sure Skar will give you a nice big hug and send you on your way with a plate of steaming meat for all your trouble."
Urt was right, annoyingly enough. Boil couldn't return. The black, that was the only option. And so he muscled through the rough opening, wincing as the sharp rocks sliced his arms and legs. After some work, he stumbled through.
Boil smiled, choking down a laugh. He wiped tears from his eyes and held the torch high. "We did it, Ember! We're going to the world beyond the mountain. We're going to see the sun!"
Inside the room, the firelight did a much better job at revealing the mystery around him. Like the room before it, skeletons lined these walls, though shackles chained their arms and legs and their smiles morphed to frowns. On the opposite wall, a massive, gated arch waited, wrapped in rusted chains with links the size of Boil's legs.
But in the room's center, one thing stood out more than any carved skeleton or chained gate. Skulls piled taller than Boil wreathed a massive obsidian sarcophagus, not unlike the kind greenskins carved for their most revered emperors and shamans. But even then, those coffins paled compared to this one.
On its face a human woman was carved. Skin like milk shimmered in the firelight, and hair of polished mother of pearl cascaded over her breasts to her feet. They etched her likeness with arms folded over her chest and studded her knuckles with gemstones. In her brow they set a ruby the size of Boil's head. Around her an intricate halo plated with gold and platinum glittered in the torchlight.
Every greenskin knew stories of the great gems buried deep in the mountain, discovered only once every two or three digger generations. But even the greatest gems of those stories couldn't hold a candle to the jewels on that sarcophagus and that ruby on her brow.
Boil inched past a line of tall candles circling the monument of a coffin. He reached the first bones piled at the sarcophagus and lifted his torch as high as he could, rolling to his tiptoes. Runes carved into the coffin hid well from a distance, but this close he made out the etchings in the stone. He recognized the writing. It was the same as from his treasured book.
"Urt, you've got to come look at this. Bring my book, too. It might have some clues."
He shook his head and lowered his torch. With those gems, he really could start his own clan in the world beyond the mountain.
Boil looked to the chained gate barricading a dark tunnel. Wind gusted from the passage, stronger than any wind Boil ever felt in the under mountain before. The flames on his torch flickered and died, and the darkness descended like a quiet rockslide.
Boil cursed under his breath and turned around. "Urt, get through here! My torch is out and I could use some light."
When he saw the opening, terror twisted his stomach into a cold knot. His friend, his companion, furiously stacked the stones he had refused to swallow into the opening. The torch he held against them lit the wall with a web of glowing cracks.
"What are you doing!" Boil sprinted toward the shrinking exit, knocking over one of the pillar candles in his hurry. He crashed against the wall, but Urt's stones didn't budge. "Urt, what is this? Stop stacking the stones. Stop!"
Only a small hole remained, enough for Boil's eye to peer into the other side. Urt stood there, panting. He held the torch in one hand and Boil's special book in the other. That same maddened gleam shimmered in his wet eyes.
"I'm sorry, Boil. She wants you. She's told me she wants you, but she doesn't want me. I'm a digger, you see, and diggers aren't meant for the world beyond the mountain. The skeletons were right. This room's not meant for us. Maybe if I give her to you, she'll leave us alone."
"Get me out!" He slammed his palms on the rough rock. "Now!"
"I tried to warn you. I tried to tell you about the whispers. You wouldn't listen. No, not even after the girl died, you still had to find your way down here. I actually thought I'd have to go up to the hovels and drag you down myself, but she took care of that for me, didn't she? She'll never leave me alone until she has you. That's all she's ever wanted. Maybe now I can find peace. Yes, even in the darkness, I'll finally have a little quiet."
"Urt, please. Please don't leave me here."
"No, no, no." Urt threw his torch to the ground. "I'm not listening to anybody no more. She comes to me during torch light and you come to me torch fall. No more. It's about Urt now. That's all who matters."
"I saved your life. You're just going to leave me here after all that?"
"Diggers don't help each other, and I'm a damned digger!" The old greenskin spat on the floor. "I'm taking your stupid book to Skar, and then I'm bringing him down here. Let the high clans deal with whatever's in that room and let me dig in peace. Now that I've got my teeth back, I might still be some use to them. Yes, Skar will spare me if I make him famous. I know he will."
"You're insane. You're an evil, stupid insane greenskin and you don't deserve the kindness Ember and I showed you!"
"No, I don't." He chuckled and turned to the tunnel ascending the mountain. "But I didn't go grey because I had a soft heart. Too bad that's a lesson you'll learn too late. Goodbye, Boil, I'll be back soon with your friend. If luck favors you, the mojo in that room will already have taken your sorry life, because I sure wouldn't want to be you when Skar gets through that wall."
With that, Urt turned and trotted down the tunnel. Boil stumbled back from the wall. The torch Urt left on the other side cast an amber spear through the hole in the wall. Trembling, he slid to a seat and tucked his legs against his chest.
The eyes. The eyes weighed upon him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hunger Rising
Grump blinked his eyes open. His temple ached like goblins had driven nails into it with ball peen hammers.
"What? Where am I?" he groaned, gingerly feeling at the bruise on his face.
The world slowly focused. Rusted iron bars trapped him in a swinging cage. Mighty blackwoods choked the skies, and a soupy fog weighed the air with the stench of rot and stagnant water. Mosquitos buzzed around him in an ever-shifting cloud hungry for blood.
He lurched forward, clasping the bars and shaking furiously. His cage swung over the muddy waters, suspended as it was from a cypress struggling to hold the troll beneath it.
Grump recognized this tree. It grew in the middle of his hamlet where all the boardwalks met like the center of some great spider's web. Torches capped by human skulls flickered with flames crackling from their eyes. Bubbles glurped and blurped as they popped onto the bog's filmy surface.
Across the clearing, he spotted Teacher. Irons bound her wrists and ankles. From her wrists, the chains wrapped around the angled branch of a blackened cypress sapling. From her feet, stones secured the chains and held her in place.
Dried blood coated her left temple and matted her silver hair against her sagging face. Her lip swelled with a bruise. Cuts crisscrossed her wrinkled skin. Yet even with her body in such a sad state, her eyes blazed beneath the curtain
of her lids, and never did they stray from him.
"Teacher!" Grump's Hunger roared through his blood. He squeezed the bars and snarled, rattling the cage with all his strength. "I'll get you out. Don't fear. I'll save you. I'll save you!"
Her lips hardened into a line. "Grump, control yourself," she said, slow and measured as if each word was a weight tied onto her tongue. "Do not let the Hunger take you."
"But I need it! I've got to free you—"
"No! Calm your Hunger. If you ever really respected me as your teacher, you will do this for me. Do not be a swamp troll. Be something more. This is your final test; the ultimate lesson I can teach you. Becoming the master of your Hunger is the only way you will ever be more than this world you see around you."
"But they will kill you, Teacher. Trolls don't collect prisoners, they collect bones. Because they hate me, they will make you suffer. I can't ... I can't see that. I'm not strong enough!"
Teacher smiled. Her lip split and dribbled blood down her chin. "Pain lost its meaning for me long before you came into this world, child of the swamp. All things that live must one day die, else no garden wrought will ever grow."
"This has nothing to do with gardens!" Grump pressed his face against the bars, his grip tightening around them. "This is no time for your lessons or your riddles."
"I bear a secret shame, my student. I was afraid. I have never been so afraid in my long life. What I did, I cannot undo. I was a monster. I am a monster. But you? There is no monster in your blood. You are good, Grump. You can be more, more than me, more than everyone else! I have seen it. The stars have sung it. They do not lie."
Grump rattled his cage. "You're speaking gibberish! You're no monster. It makes … makes no sense!"
"Do not let your Hunger become you. Please, calm yourself," she whispered.
So weakly the words poured from her, his stomach twisted. Grump swallowed. He released the bars, then slapped them and turned away. The Hunger coursing through him ebbed as he closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Slowly, his blood cooled. Rage once roaring through him dwindled to the faintest whisper. He could control this. He could be his Hunger's master.
After sucking in a deep breath, he faced Teacher. "I didn't mean to get angry. I just didn't want to leave the canyon—home—and when you started speaking of the West—"
"All is forgiven. All. Is. Forgiven," she said, and even though warmth was in her words they were a knife in his heart.
"You might forgive me, but I don't know if I can forgive myself." He looked her squarely in the eyes and tightened his fist. "I will head west for you, Teacher, if that's what you wish. I'll free us, and we'll make this journey together."
"What did I tell you so long ago when you came to my garden? Yours is a lonely path, my boy." She coughed, and blood spotted her lips. "A teacher cannot have the same student forever. One day, you will need to be a teacher to others. I fear I will not be there to see it. No, I know I won't be."
"No. I will save you. I will."
"It's not me who needs saving. There is another—"
"Well, well, well." Crush's voice filtered into the clearing as he stalked between two torches, his heavy steps squeaking on the raised boardwalk.
Grump's Hunger reignited. Teacher flashed him a steely glare, and he quieted the rage. But only for her.
Welt and Crab trailed Crush, and behind them, Thorn and Grump's other Bulderbag siblings. Trolls appeared from other boardwalks or from behind trunks or through tall reeds. They filled the hamlet's center, glittering eyes focused on the Bulderbag caged before them.
Crush cracked his knuckles and flashed his brows. "Hello, little brother. I guess the fall didn't really do you in. This hag must've caught you, huh?"
"I'm tougher than you think, thirdborn," Grump spat.
His younger brother's eyes darkened. "Yes, I'm thirdborn again now that you're back." He smiled with his eyes and turned toward Teacher. "It looks like you gained your first friend in Farlain. An old forest witch, by the looks of her."
"I bet she's got mojo," Welt said.
Crab nodded eagerly. "Maybe if we drink her blood, we'll get some!"
"No!" Grump rammed against the cage, and it swung wildly on the creaky branch. The trolls around him stepped back while Crush snorted.
"Look at him, Thorn." Crush leaned to Teacher, clasping her tiny chin with his massive fingers. "Our brother makes friends with the enemies of our people. This witch would kill trolls for her spells and potions, but Grump here coddles her like he coddled that goat. What was her name? Bah."
Thorn's nostrils swelled with his exhale. The troll crossed his arms and faced Grump. "This forest witch put a spell on our secondborn brother. We all know Grump's mind is weaker than ours, a little softer. She manipulated him and made him her slave. A Bulderbag would never willingly serve the fair folk."
Crush straightened and turned from Teacher, facing Grump and the other trolls. "I disagree, Brother."
"You are not firstborn," Thorn snapped.
"Not yet."
The crowd gasped. Thorn shook his head, the vein on his neck bulging. "We will release Grump. I will send him to Toad the Shaman. She will work this poison in his mind from him. Then, if we have to, we'll beat the softness from him, make him hard like a true troll."
"You cannot make the secondborn hard. He will always be weak, just like this hag of his."
"Shut your mouth!" Grump roared. "Or I'll rip it from your skull!"
Teacher's hazel eyes shot wide and blazed like gems. "Grump, calm yourself. Do not give in to them."
He clenched his teeth into a wall and balled his fists. The other trolls traded glances with one another. Whispers flitted like gnats from mouth to mouth.
Crush waved at Grump. "Look how she commands him. Grump is her pet. As firstborn, you must—"
"Do not speak to me of my responsibilities." Thorn's jaw tightened, and he cleared his voice. "She has a hold on you. We must break it. Kill the witch."
"What?" Grump's heart leapt into his throat as he slammed against the prison bars. "No! Release her and I'll do whatever you want. Let her go, Thorn. Release her!"
"Kill her," Crush said with a sneer.
"Kill her," Crab repeated, licking her lips.
"Kill her," Welt echoed, and the other trolls joined in the chant.
Soon, the hamlet filled with deep troll voices singing “kill her, kill her” in an endless, terrifying rhythm. Grump beat and slammed against the bars until blood coated his fists and bruises splotched his arms. Teacher said not a word. She watched, swinging from her chains.
Crush plucked a torch from the mud and waved it in figure eights above his head while he danced around Teacher. Crab and Welt clapped.
"Death to the fair folk!" Welt roared.
"We should feast to that!" Crab added.
Crush's eyes widened, and he slapped his knee. "You're right. What's a good dance without a feast? Welt, go grab us a nice meal."
Welt nodded and darted into the swamp. For the moment, the promise of food had stopped the promise of slaughter, and Grump spied his chance.
"Thorn, stop this," he said. "Teacher has done nothing. Please, I am your ally. You must do something."
Thorn snarled, jabbing his finger at Grump. "This is your fault, secondborn. Had you just been more troll and less ... less fair, this never would've happened. But no, you had to be different. You had to care for a stupid goat. You had to deny your Hunger. You had to friend a human! You've got a skull thick as an old cypress, you know that?"
"I will be a better troll. I promise."
"I'm sorry," Thorn sighed. His eyes hardened. "Maybe this hag's death will finally make you into something of a troll."
"Crush is trying to have the Hunger take me. Can't you see that! He's trying to goad me into a fight so he can kill me."
That gave Thorn pause. Crush eyed them as he danced around Teacher. Thorn's lips slowly parted. Then, they slapped shut, and he stepped away from the cage. "
You don't get it, Grump. She doesn't matter. No troll dies for a human. We don't even die for each other. You need to understand that."
Crush howled. Thorn turned his back to Grump and faced Teacher. Crab and Welt appeared with a bucket dripping thick, noxious globs of black over its rim. They danced to Teacher and tipped it over her head, coating her in shimmering tar.
Teacher's eyes opened. Those bright, hazel stars burned against the black coating her form. Grump cried out, thrusting his arm between the bars. "Teacher! No! You never heard my song. I want you to hear it. You need to hear it!"
Teacher smiled through the dripping black. "You must learn to control your Hunger, Grump, or you will never be more than troll. When that day comes, the garden you grow will change the world."
"I—I don't know if I can control it! I hear the Hunger. I feel it in me!"
"Grump, promise me. Be its master, for me! If you ever loved your Teacher, show me your strength, and I swear to you you'll show them a power Oya long ago forgot."
Hot tears streamed down Grump's cheeks. The other trolls noticed and cackled. He gripped the bars and listened to his breathing. What raging Hunger lit his blood cooled. He would make her proud. He would control this. "Teacher, it will not take me. I am strong."
Teacher's shoulders slumped. "Oh thank the—"
"Who's hungry?" Welt roared, bounding through the fog. He carried a spit over his shoulder.
Teacher stiffened as her eyes focused on Welt. She struggled in her binds, flinging tar around her. "No!"
Crush clapped his hands and roared laughter. "Smells delicious, Welt! Gather 'round, swamp trolls, we've got ourselves some good meat tonight!"
A cold, icy vise clamped around Grump's heart. The voices around hum suddenly seemed so distant, like he watched the world from the bottom of a deep well.
Crab whistled and licked her lips, her eyes flashing to Grump. "Nice and roasted, just how I like it." She grabbed the spit and ripped a leg from the carcass, tossing it to Crush.
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