“That is not all,” she said. She took his hand and placed there a cloth pouch with a drawstring. Iliff opened the pouch to find an S-shaped piece of black metal, a shard of white flint, and tinder fungus. “The conditions must be so,” she said, “but upon giving spark, it can illuminate even the darkest places.”
Iliff placed the tinder pouch in his pocket. “I’m sorry I have nothing to give in return.”
Her eyes fell to his bag. The handle of the trowel jutted from the opening. “It served you well once,” she said. “But it is a tool you no longer need.”
“Oh, that.” He felt suddenly protective of the trowel and pushed it deeper into the bag. “Yes, yes, I’ll toss it as soon as I’m out.”
Her green eyes lingered on the bag before rising to meet Iliff’s eyes.
“Your light is dim. It needs air to breathe.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “Remember this.”
“I will,” Iliff said. “And I thank you. For everything.”
Adramina touched her lips to his other cheek and retreated from the room. Her light slipped from the earthen walls. Iliff watched until she was far down the hallway and the darkness had closed behind her. He sighed and lifted Salvatore’s bag over his back. The dim opening awaited him. He nodded to himself once, twice, and then climbed the roots and pulled himself through.
* * *
The passage was large enough for Iliff to stand. Dark forms twisted along its length. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the meager light. But rather than illuminate the passage, the light only seemed to draw enough color from the walls to make the darkness murky rather than absolute. He debated whether to light a candle before deciding to go without one. Hoisting his bag higher on his back, he reached for a root along the wall and took his first careful steps.
The passageway went up at a slight grade. It soon joined another root-lined passage which doubled back but continued upward. Iliff picked up his pace and, before long, came to a place where the passageway opened and divided into three.
Though he could make out roots in the rightmost passage, he stepped inside the others anyway, just to be certain. From their dark, desolate vantages he was glad to see the dim light of his present course. But a queer feeling came over him, as if he should not be in these other passages and yet should be in them. He hastened back to the rightmost passage.
Similar junctions followed, and at every one Iliff held to the way with the roots. Up and up went his course, and it seemed to him that the light was gaining a bit of strength, pushing out more of the gloom.
About midday Iliff arrived at another junction, this one with two passageways forward: one dim with roots, the other opaque and rock-strewn. There was a stone between them, and Iliff thought it a good place to sit and rest. He pulled out the water skin and some of the food Adramina had packed for him. He sat facing the mouth of the dark tunnel and looked into it as he ate. He wondered about all of the tunnels he was bypassing. Did they lead to other worlds as well?
He was just replacing the water skin when from beyond the mouth of the dark tunnel, there came a distinct sound. Iliff stilled his breath. Yes, there it was again! Crack. Crack. Crack. The sound of stones being struck.
Iliff stood and walked a few paces into the passageway. He pulled a candle from his bag and lit it. The tunnel was steep, its walls riddled with black stones. What would someone be doing down here? he wondered. He looked back to the opening, to the stone he had been sitting on.
The cracking sounded again. Sharper this time.
When he spun toward it, the same disquieting feeling came over him as in the other dark tunnels. He considered what Adramina had said about Seekers going astray. Perhaps this was just such a Seeker, he thought suddenly, a lost Seeker signaling for help. He felt compelled to find out. But underlying his sense of duty—indeed, leaping beneath it—was his hope that the excursion would lead him to a fellow Seeker. Then he would not have to journey into the world out there alone.
It was in this spirit that Iliff descended into the black tunnel. He did not believe he would have to go far to discover the source of the sound, for already the cracking was reverberating around him.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
But the acoustics of the tunnels deceived him. Every time he thought the source to be just around the next bend, the cracks would echo from still farther down. The walls became steeper and rockier, the junctions more tangled. Recalling the mistake he had made in the prison, Iliff took special care to drip candle wax every time he changed course.
Eventually he arrived at a steep bend illuminated from beyond by violent red light. When the sound erupted again, it felt to Iliff as if it were right on top of him, hammering the insides of his ears.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Iliff blew out his candle and pressed his body to the floor. He inched forward, peering around the bend. At first he saw only a large torch spewing fire and black smoke against the far wall. But just beyond the light of the torch, there stood something else. A man. Though barely discernible, a shadow among shadows, he was easily the largest person Iliff had ever beheld. He stood taller than the mixer by several heads and was perhaps twice his breadth.
Huffing, the man lifted a large pick-axe and drove it into the wall before him. Sparks leapt. Stones split and tumbled to his feet. The man stooped and pawed through them. He tossed a few into a nearby cart and then hitched his trousers, lifted his axe, and swung it into the crumbling wall again.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Iliff crept closer, but in doing so his pack shifted from his back and scraped against the stone. The tunnel amplified the harsh sound. Iliff stiffened, one hand poised above the floor.
There came a deep rumble then, like a question. The man turned and lumbered toward the torch. He peered past the light, and instantly Iliff saw his mistake. For what the light revealed was not a man, but a creature, a gruesome creature whose face showed as a wide jutting mouth. Iliff searched for its eyes but found none. There was only a pair of depressions beneath a short, punched-out brow and a tangle of black hair. Everything about the creature spoke of crudeness and hunger. It craned its head forward and sniffed the air.
Iliff shrank back. The creature now stood full in the torchlight. Clad in gray trousers, its body showed pale and craggy, its skin pocked with boils. A savage reek assaulted Iliff’s nostrils.
He watched the creature from his crouch, willing it to give up, to go back to its work. The creature sniffed the air again, then grabbed the torch and swung it here and there. Iliff withdrew beyond the whooshing illuminations. At last the creature grunted and ground the torch into the wall. Cinders scattered. The tunnel went black.
Iliff retreated around the bend on all fours. He could hear the creature’s breaths, severe and serrated, but could not tell whether they pursued. He pushed away the stone floor with his hands and knees, wishing with all his might he was already back in the root-lined tunnel. But rather than finding his wish fulfilled, Iliff thudded into a wall. There erupted a horrible “Aha!”
Iliff stood to run, but the sound of pounding footfalls fell upon him. In the next moment the creature seized him and slammed him over its stinking back. Iliff shrieked and kicked, but the creature only clenched him more tightly, its fingers like stone manacles. It turned and broke into a shambling run.
“No!” Iliff screamed. “Let me go!”
Iliff’s panicked thoughts raced round and round before seizing on the trowel in his bag. The metal blade. He managed to jerk an arm free and reach behind. He felt his way inside the bag, the bulk of which was above the creature’s grip, and dug his hand past the bundle of clothes. He pushed aside the skin of water, the food, and at last touched the trowel’s wooden handle.
But before he could work his grip over it, their space broke open into red light. Cracking and clanging sounded all around them. Without warning, the creature dumped Iliff to the ground. The impact forced his hand from the bag and the wind from his lungs.
Iliff struggled
to sit up. He was in the middle of a large junction of tunnels propped by scaffolding. Dozens of creatures labored nearby. With their massive jaws, squat brows, and violent tangles of hair, they were nearly identical to the creature that had carried him here—only larger. They towered inside the tunnels, many of them stooping to avoid the ceiling.
Still struggling for air, Iliff watched helplessly as the creatures nudged one another and turned. The sounds of labor fell away. Several of them dropped their pick-axes and giant hammers as they stumbled toward him. Iliff backpedaled on his hands and feet until he was against the nearest wall. The creatures crammed around him and smothered him with foul, fogging breath.
“I found him sneaking about,” his captor called from behind the others. “Probably a thief.”
The creatures grunted and nodded. One leaned in so close that Iliff could see strings of meat between its jagged teeth. “What have we here?” it rumbled.
The creature shot its hand forward and Iliff squinted and covered his head. In the next instant his bag was wrenched from his back.
Shouts erupted and when Iliff peeked between his forearms, he saw the other creatures leaping and grabbing for the bag. Back and forth it went. Finally, one of them got a hold of it long enough to turn out its contents. The rest of the creatures collapsed over the spoils, and a thundering commotion ensued. Iliff listened to his food and water being devoured. At last, the mass of creatures broke apart, leaving the bag and the rest of its contents scattered over the floor. Iliff exhaled, faint with relief.
“What should I do with him?” his captor shouted at their backs.
Iliff crawled to his things and pushed them back inside the bag. He put the trowel at the top, though its blade appeared puny to him now.
“The Boss,” one of them called. “He’ll know what to do.”
Iliff stood and eased the bag over his shoulder. The rest of the creatures returned to their clamorous work. Only his captor remained, looking at the ground. It pulled at its trousers and scratched its jaw. Iliff backed up a couple of steps, then dashed for the dark end of the tunnel. But the creature snapped to and in four giant steps caught up to Iliff and hoisted him up and over its back.
“Oh, no you don’t,” it said. “We’re not done with you yet.”
The creature began to run with him again. Though the trowel was within Iliff’s reach, he did not go for it. Even if he managed to free himself, he thought, he had no idea where he was, and these creatures seemed to be everywhere besides.
He cursed himself for leaving the path, for failing to heed Adramina’s warning. Suddenly, in the midst of the jouncing, he recalled his appeals: Three times may you call on me. His chest swelled. He opened his mouth to speak Adramina’s name, but exhaled his air instead.
How was he going to explain himself? How was he going to explain his willful departure from the path so soon after starting out? He decided to wait. Perhaps the worst was behind him. Perhaps he could still figure his way out of this.
The creature carried him through tunnels and more dark tunnels. Some of them were commotions of industry and shouting, others still and silent as tombs. After a time the creature began to bound up what felt like a steep staircase. The creature’s back heaved beneath him, its breath hitching every time it inhaled.
“Stop!” called a coarse voice from in front of them.
Iliff’s captor stepped onto a wide torch-lit landing. Iliff could now see the top of the staircase they had come up by. To either side hewn stones fell into deepest darkness.
“What’s your business with the Boss?”
The creature shook Iliff. “Found him sneaking around my work site. The others said I should bring him here. In case he were a thief.”
“A thief, huh?” Hot air snuffed over Iliff. “Wait here, I’ll see if I can get you an audience.”
Iliff heard what sounded like a large stone being scraped across the floor, first one way and then another. He tried peering around his captor, but its back was too broad. After several moments the scraping sounded again.
“Yeah,” the voice said. “The Boss wants to see what you’ve plucked up there. Hurry in, before he changes his mind.”
The creature carried Iliff past a stone door and into a small room. There, a second creature showed them into a much larger room. Light glowed from gold lanterns on either side of the door. Iliff’s captor hesitated, then lurched ahead, its footfalls softening to dull thuds. Iliff watched a gold rug extend behind them, farther and farther back. More lanterns lined the way, but beyond these, the room was dark.
“Ah, so this is the little mouse?” The voice that rose before them was high and clear, almost jovial. “But he didn’t get the cheese he was after, hmm? All right then, all right, let’s have a look.”
The creature set Iliff on his feet and spun him around.
Iliff steadied himself and peered to the far end of the room where, in a large gold chair, sat a little man with a round head and a round body. Plates of food crowded the table before him. Piles of treasure and trophies filled the spaces around him. The man tossed a fat bone to one side and gulped from a jeweled goblet. He wiped his mouth with the lapel of his robe.
“I found him sneaking—”
“I know, I know,” the man said, “I was told. Go now! Leave me alone with him. Wait in the other room until I call for you.”
The creature skulked away. The man turned to Iliff and squinted. He tilted his balding head to one side, then the other. Iliff stood there, an appeal to Adramina on the tip of his tongue.
“Well, what have you to say for yourself?” the man asked finally. “Or can’t the mouse speak?”
“I am not a mouse,” Iliff said indignantly. “Or a thief. I am a traveler who has lost his way—an easy thing to do in these confounding tunnels. I took a wrong turn and ended up here. I’m sorry if I have in any way disturbed you or your work.”
The round man sat up and narrowed his eyes. “What do you know of my work?”
“Nothing, in fact,” Iliff said. He sensed that he would have to tread carefully. “It was only apparent to me that work was being done. I would of course be interested in learning more about what you do—you seem a learned and accomplished man—but I don’t want to disturb you any more than I already have. And anyway, I have to get back to where I was going.”
“And where was that?” The man settled back into the cushions of his throne.
“Outside. To the world out there.”
“Out there?” The round man burst into laughter. “Good heavens! What would ever possess you to want to go out there? It’s uncivilized, a wilderness. Out there?” He waved his hand. “You’d live like a savage.”
Iliff felt his face becoming hot, but said nothing.
“Well,” the man said, “you seem honest enough about what brought you here. But I can’t go on your word entirely. I’ll tell you what, you agree to work for me for thirty days, and I’ll consider your trespass into my mine forgiven. I’ll even reward you for your labor, give you something to start out on. What do you say?”
Iliff was preparing to decline the offer when he caught the man’s eyes flicking to either side of the room. Off to his right, Iliff heard something smack its lips. And then he could see them in his periphery.
“I agree,” Iliff said suddenly. “I will work for you. But I expect to be treated well. And at thirty days I expect to be shown back to the tunnel where I was captured. And not a day later.”
“Yes, yes,” the round man sang. “Splendid!”
He made a subtle gesture with his hand, and the creatures that had crept forward returned to the shadows along the walls. He called for the creature that had captured him and directed it to show Iliff to a guest room. The creature did not hoist him over its back this time. Instead, it turned and grumbled for him to follow.
And in this way Iliff found himself a prisoner once more.
Chapter 8
Iliff’s room was not the dank cell he feared it would be. Nor was it
where the other creatures were barracked, as he had also feared. It was a proper living space, small but comfortable. It held a bed, a lantern, rugs, shelves for his belongings, and a stout wooden door with a bolt on the inside. Given the day’s misfortunes, Iliff felt more than fortunate to be retiring to a bed in a secure room—and to be doing so in one piece.
As he settled beneath the covers, he thought of the root-lined passageways winding on in his absence. He thought of the thirty days to come. He hoped that the labor would not prove too trying or terrible. But more than anything, he hoped the term would pass quickly.
His head swam with weariness. He listened to his deepening breaths. Now his breaths were thick and hitching. No. Not his breaths. They were coming from beyond the door.
Iliff pressed himself up. Now what could that creature still want with him? He had assumed that upon showing him to the room, it had returned to whatever dark place it had come from. But there it remained, out in the passageway. Iliff listened but could not tell that it was doing anything besides standing there. He remained vigilant for a time, but his weariness returned. Before long he was being carried into dreams of dark passages and still darker worlds.
* * *
The following morning Iliff was awakened by knocking. He turned up his lantern in time to see a tray of food being pushed beneath his door. The tray was full of meats, cooked eggs, and thick slices of bread. Iliff finished the meal, though it was heavier than what he was accustomed to. He had nearly finished the coffee when the door shook with more knocking.
Iliff opened the door to see the hewn chest of his captor. The creature stooped and tucked its chin. By its haggard look, Iliff guessed that it had stood sentry by his door all night.
“The Boss wants that I should take you to your work now.”
Escape (The Prisoner and the Sun #1) Page 5
