by Ashley Capes
“The foreman was making a poor joke, of course. Where we are now there’s enough silver for another half a lifetime. If we don’t escape, we’re dying here,” he said.
Never slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Leave that to me. What else can you tell me?”
“I was estimating the time it takes for a cart to reach the surface,” Luis said. “For when I figured out where Tsolde was.” He shook his head. “It would be tough, but I think no-one would miss us for most of the morning.”
“That long?”
“The tunnel we’re mining is deep and the carts are heavy. It takes a long time for two men to push it back out.”
“Good, that’s something.”
“Where we actually dig, that’s harder. We have weapons – shovels and pick axes, but the Steelhawks down here carry crossbows in addition to the whips. I don’t like our chances with a show of force.”
“Stealth it is, then.”
“The disused tunnels?”
“Not something I want to explore at length, but if we can use them to divert any search parties...”
At the next set of lights there stood a pair of soldiers and once again, the whispers died away to silence, leaving only the echoing tread of their feet
“There’s still everyone above. And Tsolde,” he said once they’d passed out of earshot.
Never nodded. “Let’s see what else we have to face.”
They eventually reached the mining site, where enough lanterns hung from the walls and buttresses to set the silver ore gleaming. Not unlike the Amber Isle, after a fashion. More Steelhawks armed with crossbows waited beside sets of axes and shovels. “You know what to do,” one of them shouted.
Luis joined the queue and Never followed, accepting an axe. Together they found a section of wall away from the nearest prisoner and began. Never swung at the wall, ignoring the shock it sent through his arms. A hunk of rock threaded with silver fell to his feet. He swung again and within moments he was sweating, despite the cold underground.
When the Steelhawks called for the first halt he drank his ration of water greedily.
Then it was back to digging into the bowels of the earth.
Noon came and passed in a blur of hacking – at one point he switched to shovelling the stone into one of the carts, and then it was one more drink before heading toward the surface. His arms were near-to crumbling and new muscles – muscles that had surely not been in his body prior – had begun to ache. It was much worse than digging the latrine, and a perfect way to drain the men’s strength.
After a day in the mine, most prisoners would barely have the strength to eat, let alone plan an escape.
But he was not most prisoners.
Between guards in their pools of light, Never spoke over the grinding of the cart’s wheels. “This will never work. It needs to be at night, which is your cell?”
“Second from the western entry of the barracks.”
“Tonight I am going to release you. We’ll take Tsolde once I have imprisoned the jailor – I think, in the dark, I can impersonate my guard, and fool the jailor.”
“That easy, huh?”
He grinned. “Let’s hope so.”
“Then what?”
“We head for the high ground. The road to the Iron Pass and the old mine lies above us – there’s no other path.”
“This is a bigger gamble than the others. They’ll know we haven’t tried to cross the bridge.”
“I’m betting they will but we’ll be too far ahead by then. The moon is still visible at night, we’ll be able to see well enough to travel.”
“Do we have enough time to reach Marlosi?”
“Let’s hope so. Just be ready after midnight.”
After pushing their cart up the final incline and into the setting sun – more sweating and cursing and now squinting too – Never and Luis were directed back to the barracks, locked up once more. With nothing else to do but rest, Never slumped into his cot, limbs like sticks of lead, and closed his eyes.
Soon enough, he’d make his move, after which he might not sleep for days.
Best to take advantage of the free room while he could.
Chapter 16.
Near midnight Never called for the guard. He’d been practicing with his blood for an hour and was finally ready. If he remained careful, no-one would have to die – or alert the others. Yet he would kill if given no choice.
After his first call there was no answer so he called again, and then raised the pitch of his voice. Other prisoners roared curses at him but he kept on until his guard wrenched the door open, face red with rage.
“What is it? And give the shouting a rest, damn you.”
Never opened his mouth to answer, only to have blood spurt forth – which, with a lot of concentration, was exactly what he wanted. It splashed down the front of his tunic and filled his mouth as he hit the floor, feigning panic. “Help me,” he gurgled. “Take me to... healer.”
The guard gaped, then knelt by his side.
Never whipped Sacha’s knife free – holding it to the man’s throat. “Don’t move now,” he said, blood sliding between his teeth.
The man froze, a look of horror crossing his face.
“You’re going to go to sleep now. If you struggle, I will cut you and drain your blood, do you understand?”
“You’re a vampire?”
Never grinned. The fellow turned pale, then shuddered to the floor. Fainted cold. Never chuckled – that part was easier than he’d hoped. He spat excess blood then raised his voice to mimic the guard, shouting for the jailor, claiming to need help moving a sick prisoner.
Bendlav’s keys jingled to signal his approach. Never propped up the guard and as the heavyset jailor peered inside, Never shoved the guard forward.
The jailor caught his countryman with wide eyes, stumbling.
Never slipped into the corridor and spun around Bendlav, shoving both men into the room. He leapt atop the jailor’s back, where he slipped his arm around the fellow’s throat and squeezed.
The jailor grunted, thrusting himself up – lurching back and slamming Never into the cot. He swore, pain shooting through his head where it thumped against the stone but he did not let go. Bendlav drove his elbow back into Never’s abdomen, each strike causing him to curse again but the blows soon weakened. The man grew limp.
Never held the pressure a little longer, to be sure Bendlav was unconscious, then stood and kicked the jailor. “Bastard.” It might have been too much, the fellow might die, but he didn’t have time nor the inclination to check.
Move.
He snatched the key chain and jogged down to Luis’ cell, wrenching the keys in the lock and sliding the bolt free. When he swung the door open; Luis was already standing.
“Ready?”
Luis flinched. “Are you hurt?”
“Just part of the ploy,” Never said, wiping his mouth. “Quickly.”
He strode across the way to the jailor’s room. While bigger than the cells, it was still small, crammed with furniture; a desk, cot and a series of pegs hung with clothing.
And one important absence.
Tsolde.
“Where is she?” he hissed.
“Try the next cell,” Luis said.
Never leant close to the door. “Tsolde? Are you in there?”
A shaky voice answered – a young woman’s voice. “Never?”
“We’re getting out of here.”
He jammed the key into the lock and turned it as Luis pulled the bolt all the way free, hefting it like a weapon. How the man still had the strength to carry the bar was a wonder but it was a clever idea.
Tsolde tumbled out of the cell, shock covering her face. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”
She wrapped her arms around him. “No,” she said, speaking into his chest. “Bendlav doesn’t like women, Never. He was actually quite kind.”
Never exhaled, relief washing over him. “
No time to talk, but I’m glad. Come on.”
He led them out of the barracks and detoured the pool of light from a torch burning before the other buildings, keeping close to the darker mine. Using the moonlight, he was able to avoid crunching on the gravel and find firm ground, climbing the ladder that led to the quarry – which Luis had told him would soon join the King’s Road and the Iron Mines, still half a day away.
By dawn, no-one would know where they had gone, let alone when. The search would be spread thin, restricted to the immediate area for hiding. Others would waste time in the mine itself, maybe even sending word back to the main camp.
If they could simply pass through the quarry.
Luis caught his arm. “Never, I took a turn here. There are no guards at night but sentries watch the trail leading out.”
“Very well.”
He slowed his pace, checking on Luis and Tsolde once more, and over her shoulder to the still-quiet camp before starting along the path. No sign of trouble. Good, let it stay that way. The trail hugged the edge of the quarry with its silent structures before climbing up toward the King’s Road – a broad path in the moonlight. A pair of huge pines grew beside the road.
The sentries would be near.
A horn blasted in the camp below. Cries followed, new light blooming. Never swore, charging toward the tree trunks. If he could rush the sentries there might be a chance. He skidded around the tree – only to crash into the armoured man rushing toward the sound of alarm.
Never was flung back. His head struck the stone, crippling pain spreading like fire. Sprawled on the unforgiving earth, Never fumbled for his knife as the sentry blew his own horn, answering the call. Then he threw it aside and raised his own weapon.
Luis stepped over Never’s shoulder, lifting his steel pole and catching a sword blow. “Tsolde, run,” he cried.
Never found his knees, waving Tsolde around the struggle. She hesitated after only a few steps. He echoed Luis’ words with a shout as he circled the sentry. The soldier was swinging blow after blow at Luis, who met each strike with his makeshift weapon.
If Never could take out the man’s legs... he crouched, ready to dive, when something struck the man’s breastplate and bounced into the night. A stone! The strike caused the man to hesitate long enough for Luis to land a blow that drove the fellow to the ground. Never snatched the sentry’s sword and set the point to the man’s throat. “Stay.”
Beneath them, lights were converging on the quarry.
“Quickly,” Never shouted.
Luis chased after Tsolde, who still held a stone where she stood up the trail, and Never cracked the soldier across the head before following. He frowned as he ran. In the past, he probably would have killed the sentry to be sure. And probably done the same with the jailors.
What had changed?
Ahead, Luis stopped. He held his iron bar in both hands, facing off with a second figure. Never thundered up the path... and stumbled to a halt.
The advance sentry had obviously headed toward camp, hearing the horn blasts. And now he held Tsolde, a knife to her throat. Blood trickled down her skin, black in the moonlight. “Drop your weapons or she dies, yes?”
Luis didn’t move. How good was his Vadiyem? Though the meaning was clear enough. Never checked on their back-trail – torches were climbing the path, at least a dozen men. Never raised his knife to his wrist.
Tsolde screamed. The sentry growled. “Need me to spell it out? Drop them.”
“Never? What do we do?” Luis asked.
“Leave me,” Tsolde gasped.
“No,” Never said. His knife clattered to the stone. “We’re caught.”
Luis swore but flung his bar into the quarry.
“That’s better,” the sentry said. “Now turn and walk slowly to meet my comrades, keeping your hands in sight.”
Never started down the trail. The first Steelhawk caught his arm, twisted it and drove him to his knees. Never grunted but didn’t fight. There was a chance to talk his way out of it if he could convince them he was acting on Sacha’s orders.
And yet, would that compromise her position?
“Who are they?” someone asked.
“Prisoners escaped from the barracks,” another voice said. “Kill them and leave the bodies at the entrance to the mine, I say. Make an example.”
A third voice joined in. “Jailor’s probably dead – they’re the ones who killed him.”
An angry swell in the muttering.
Never started to speak but his captor cuffed his head. He bit into his tongue, blood filling his mouth again. He spat, the taste of iron strong. Familiar.
And useless.
“Kill them now,” yet another voice demanded. “I remember what Lady Isajan said. They aren’t spies, they’re just travellers. Kill them and be done with it. I’m cold.”
“Let’s not be so hasty.”
Never tilted his head.
This new voice was familiar, softer than the shouting men, yet it remained audible. The muttering of the soldiers transformed into a respectful tone and the Steelhawk holding Never drew in a breath. “Prince Tendov.”
Never tensed.
“Leave these to me. Go now, all of you.”
“But, Your Highness. We must protect you,” one of the hawks said.
“Your concern is... misguided, but I appreciate the sincerity. Go.” A hint of steel had entered his voice. Never was released. Footsteps shuffled away, light receding with it, until only Never, Luis and Tsolde remained. Never stood and turned.
The prince waited before them, a cloak and hood concealing his face.
He raised pale hands and pulled the hood back with a smile.
“Hello, brother.”
Snow.
Chapter 17.
“Snow.”
His brother raised an eyebrow, blue eyes catching the moonlight, seeming to glow as if sending the light back into the sky. “You shouldn’t be surprised, brother. You’re getting obsessed with your search.”
“Snow.” Never had no other words.
Snow was Prince Tendov. Snow was Sacha’s lover. Never swallowed. Was the sense of betrayal greater at that thought – or the knowledge that Snow was part of the invasion that had thrown Marlosi into turmoil and was now seeking to do the same to Hanik. A random, greedy little king was one thing – but his own brother?
Was there no end to the lengths the man would go? Would he topple all kingdoms in his search for Amouni artefacts? Or was it simple conquest? Or not simple at all, perhaps. There was all the ranting about breaking down humanity in order to rebuild it...
“You’re not a prince,” was all Never could say. Stupid.
Snow laughed. “Getting right to the important things, I see. Of course I am not, but King Rachinam was kind enough to adopt me as his own after my parents were most tragically killed during my youth.”
“He adopted you? He has so many sons already.”
“Yes, years ago now, Never. And why not? My Vadiya is flawless and of course there’s my appearance,” he said. “No-one turns an eye in Vadiya. It’s... refreshing.”
“I see there’s no end to your duplicity.”
“Say rather that I encouraged him.”
Never glanced to his side – there were things he wasn’t sure Luis or Tsolde should hear – but both had fallen to the ground. When? Never dashed to Tsolde first, then Luis, but both were in a deep sleep, chests rising and falling evenly.
He looked up to his brother. “What is this?”
“Privacy.”
Never stood, striding up to Snow – close enough to catch the scent of meat on his breath. “What are you doing?”
“That we have already discussed.”
“Humour me.”
Snow threw his hands up. “Use your head, brother. What is the quickest path to my goal? Unity, Empire, Obedience.”
Never clenched his teeth. At least Snow couldn’t simply annihilate humanity with Amouni powers. A small mercy perhaps.
“I will stop you.”
“I’d rather you join me. You’re in the dark, Never. There’s still so much for you to learn. Go to the Altar of Stars as I instructed. Discover the truth about the Amouni. Then we will speak again.”
“What? You’re letting us leave?”
“If you hurry, yes. I told you in the Temple – you are my brother. I would not do this alone, you deserve to know what I have learnt but I am not foolish enough to think you will believe my word. You must hear our ancestors – go, Never. I will handle the Vadiya; they obey me.” He paused, a faint smile playing across his lips. “And I will send your apologies to Sacha, if you wish?”
A stab of jealousy hit him – harder than he expected – and he clenched a fist. Snow only raised an eyebrow, as if curious about the possibility of violence between them.
A groan from Luis stopped him. Never knelt beside the man, helping him sit.
“Never? What happened?”
“It was my brother. He’s letting us go,” Never said. He turned back to the trail, only to find it empty. Not a single trace remained – but a single white feather drifted down to the stone as an owl flew to the pine tree, claws gripping the bark.
“Snow?”
And there it sat, watching him help Tsolde to her feet and watching still as the three of them reached the King’s Road and started up, leaving the silver mine behind.
Chapter 18.
The journey to the old iron mines floated by in a haze of daylight and stars, thinning moons, cold meals, shivering and scattered conversation. Never tried to explain what he knew of Snow to Luis and Tsolde without terrifying them but it was a difficult task.
“What are you saying?” Tsolde asked the first night, after they’d left the camp far enough behind to be reasonably sure there was no pursuit. “If he’s trying to create a single Empire and you might be able to stop him, why let us go?”
