by Colt, K. J.
“When you’re better,” I said again.
We rested until I felt like I could carry him again. I wanted to sleep, and my eyelids felt heavy, but I knew we had to get as far away from the humans as possible. Khavi remained awake and alert, if quiet and weak, but that boded well for him.
I checked his wound. It looked better. Perhaps. It was hard to judge.
There was no sign of pursuit yet. This was strange. Khavi had killed more than a few of the humans, including at least one child. If it were my people we would be mobilising. The idea that they had not worried me. What were they planning?
If I allowed myself to be distracted by possibilities, I would never accomplish anything. I merely thanked my good fortune that we were not running from spears at our backs.
I fed Khavi some of Hungry’s meat and that seemed to help. I told him where it came from, and he seemed to find the idea somewhat amusing. I ate some as well, fearing it would spoil soon, then I readied to go.
My body ached and protested as I stood, but I knew we could not stay here. Khavi held tightly to my back as I picked him up. He was easier to carry this way, instead of an inert lump, and I felt cautiously optimistic about how far we could travel.
I started to walk again, always towards the big tooth in the ground. Khavi would point out an occasional thing to me. An animal, a new type of tree, or a potentially defensible location that we could retreat to if we saw pursuers. Valuable and important information.
It was hard to see far with the trees blocking my line of sight, but I did the best I could. I weaved my way between the tall columns that provided cover and shade for my sore eyes. I kept my eyes down as I walked.
That was good because I nearly walked off a cliff and fell miles and miles to my doom.
It was a hole in the ground, a void that dropped off into nothing. I jerked my head up, looking around me.
A colossal opening in the earth, almost a mile across, roughly cut and circular. It went straight down into the ground, slicing through the dirt and stone like it were parchment, a void in the surface of Drathari.
Letting Khavi off my back, I lay down on my belly and wiggled forward, daring to peek over the edge. The drop went forever, a dark chasm that stretched on and on, eventually ending with a faint, red dot at the base of the pit. I was looking into the ruins of Stonehaven, and below that, beyond uncountable tonnes of rock, the ruins of Atikala.
I knew what the red glow was now. The fallen star. The piece of the sky that had destroyed so many lives so quickly. It seemed so far down now. Had we really walked so far? Climbed so high?
Vertigo started to take hold the longer I stared into that nigh-bottomless pit, so I squirmed back to safety.
“What does it look like?” asked Khavi.
I had no clear answer for him. Instead I just extended my claw and let him climb back on my back. “Terrible.”
Making my way around the wide circumference of the pit took more time, but I was glad when the tree line enveloped me once again, and I could no longer see the large hole.
I had not gotten far when the light around me started to increase. I barely noticed it at first, but it became brighter and brighter as we marched on. Just as I had begun to get used to the light in this place, the surface decided to make it difficult and painful for me again.
We couldn’t afford to stop though. My progress was slower, stumbling in the growing light, trying to navigate when I could hardly see.
Khavi saw it first. A glow on the horizon near the top of the tooth. I stopped and looked, expectantly, for the brightness to disappear and for the moon, the lesser light, to illuminate Drathari.
Instead, the edge of a colossal ball of fire broke from the horizon, searing my eyes, the light so intense it heated my scales. It impossibly bright, and I shrieked, clapping my hands over my eyes. I dropped Khavi and thrashed and rolled around on the ground as I tried to shut out the light.
“That’s the sun!” I shrieked, the realisation of the truth terrible. “That’s the sun! It wasn’t the moon! THAT’S THE SUN!”
“Make it stop! Make it stop! It burns!” Khavi accidentally kicked me. “Go away, sun!”
I forced my eyes open. They watered, stinging and burning. “I can’t see!”
We needed to find somewhere to hide. The trees were not providing enough cover. I squinted through the glare. The mountain was near, and with it, the promise of return to the appropriately lit underworld.
“Come on,” I said. “We need to go!”
We set off again, half blind and pained as the sun crept higher and higher into the sky. The tooth was closer than I thought. It was hard walking into the bright light, but Khavi used his hand to shield my eyes, and I looked down at my feet as often as I could.
Soon the ground began to tilt upward and became rockier, with fewer trees. I knew we were approaching the edge of the tooth. The going became slower and harder, especially with me carrying Khavi.
“Let me down,” he said, “I want to walk.”
“You can’t,” I said between puffs of breath, putting aching claw before aching claw as I climbed up the side of the tooth. “You’ll tear your wound.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You hit a fully grown copper dragon in the rump with a nonmagical sword. I don’t think careful is a word you really understand.”
“That was just one time!”
“What about the spider’s web? You touched it and got stuck. What about charging into the human village without finding out if they were evil or not? You’re the most uncareful kobold I’ve ever met!”
“If you don’t let me walk, we won’t make it.”
“If I let you walk,” I said, “you’ll die.”
“Then you should probably leave me here.”
The suggestion sapped the energy from my legs. I stopped, leaning against one of the sparse trees that dotted the side of the tooth, and Khavi hopped off me to give me a break.
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because we’ve been through so much together; we’ve come this far. I can’t. I just can’t. We go on together, or we don’t go on at all.”
He didn’t say anything but dabbed at the wound on his back with a scrap of cloth.
I turned around, shielding my eyes, and tried to see out over the group of trees. What was the name for a group of trees? I liked the word cluster. A cluster of trees. It made sense.
“Can you see that?” I asked, pointing with my casting hand out into the distance. I could see something moving near the edge of the giant hole in the ground, although the light made it difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was.
“I can’t see anything in this glare.”
“There. Over there.” I mashed my cheek to his, my hand outstretched. “Look! By the edge of the pit!”
“I think I see it,” Khavi said, his eyes watering as he squinted.
“What does it look like to you?”
Khavi hesitated before answering not sure of his thoughts.
“Humans riding things.”
Fear overrode the pain, and we set off immediately. I knew we were exposed here on the side of a mountain, but we were lightly coloured, and the rocks were dark. The humans, unlike us, had no problems seeing in the overwhelming bright.
“There!” said Khavi. “To your left! A cave!”
I could see it, a black hole in the white side of the mountain. I made my way towards it as fast as I could, Khavi bouncing on my back as I scurried across the mountainside, half running and half climbing across the hot, bright rocks.
I felt we were too exposed, too visible, the journey taking far too long for my tastes. All that our pursuers had to do was look, and they would see us, unremarkable dots on the white mountainside.
All I had was the hope that our painfully obvious predicament was not so obvious to them.
I nearly fell over as I stumbled through the gap of the cave, my eyes thanking me as they adjust
ed to the reasonable lighting conditions. I kept my gaze turned outward to the humans who hunted us. They drew closer as I watched. From the distance I could hear a faint noise, the sound of a horn being blown.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IT FELT GOOD TO BE back under the ground. We once again had to pass through the lightless barrier between the underworld and the surface. We followed the light of my spell, working our way down and down, away from the brightness of the surface day.
This time I wasn’t afraid. The gap between the surface and the blue crystals held no terrors for me, having endured the searing light of day. To return to the dark was a comfort.
The humans would be after us. I knew enough about hunting to know how it would end, but I felt that this darkness would protect us. If I, who had lived underground for so long, feared the sightless black then they would be terrified of it.
I couldn’t help remembering though, that we had seen humans in the underworld before.
The darkness gave way to the familiar glow of the blue crystal rock, and I dismissed my spell. I spent a moment staring off into tunnels that were both completely unknown to me but somehow strangely familiar.
Ssarsdale was nearby. The end of our journey, and the completion of our duty. All we had to do was get there.
“I want to walk,” said Khavi. This time I didn’t argue. There was no choice. I let him off my back, and he walked alongside me, limping but functional, and together we set off down to the dim blue light.
I saw more of the puddles of water here, and I knew now what their source was. The sky tears seeping in from above. I saw the occasional piece of tree embedded in the soil, and I knew what it was too. The surface had taught me so much about my own world. Despite the hardships and despite Khavi’s wound, I did not regret going. I valued knowledge. Leaders and sorcerers were encouraged to know things.
“Halt,” said Khavi, his hand held to the side, yanking me from my thoughts.
I stopped midstep, my foot hovering over the stone. Years of training and patrol work had conditioned me to obey commands like this without question. “What?”
He leaned down, sniffing curiously, then extended a claw towards nothing. “A wire.”
I couldn’t see anything. “Where?”
“There, right in front of my claw. Don’t you see it?”
I didn’t. I leaned down where he was pointing.
There it was. Thin and devious, glinting in the faint blue light when viewed at the perfect angle. “Kobold manufacture,” I said, giving Khavi a wide smile. “We’re getting close.”
“Close to our deaths,” he grumbled. “I wonder what would happen if we triggered it—”
I reached out and grasped his wrist, holding it tightly so he could not move.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“I remember the spider’s den.”
He laughed, shaking his head. He stepped over the wire, and I did too, then we continued on.
We walked for hours but made good time despite Khavi’s injury. The ground sloped down, a vague spiral, which made the traversal easier. Going down was easier than going up.
Hours passed. I had not slept yet, not properly, and I felt that fatigue gnaw at me. I should have seen that wire. I stifled a yawn, trying to keep my energy up. I had to make it to Ssarsdale. Now that I wasn’t carrying Khavi, and we were walking downhill, things were easier, but the trap we had narrowly avoided told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t relax. Not yet.
The Ssarsdalians would give us quarters, food, and water. I could sleep then. What would life be like living in Ssarsdale? Ideas churned over in my head. I would be given new tasks, for certain. They would value another patrolman, but more than another soldier, they would value another sorcerer.
For their magic and for breeding. My chest tightened. I wanted to know more of what Tyermumtican had said of this strange possession called love. Atikala had been kind in indulging my differences, up to a point, but would Ssarsdale?
Perhaps it would be better if I never went there at all?
I shook away the thought as soon as it started to chatter to me. No. I would face these challenges, and as I had with everything else, overcome them.
“Halt,” said Khavi, once again dragging my tired, distracted mind back to reality.
“What now?”
“Don’t you hear that?”
We both paused to listen. Voices, echoing down the chamber. Kobold voices.
Ssarsdalians? It had to be. We were so close to their city I could smell it. “Let’s go!”
Khavi couldn’t run, but he did his best to pick up the pace; we powered down the corridor, following the sound of voices as they grew louder and louder until we appeared in an open area with a low, flat ceiling.
Almost a score of kobolds were camped here, spread out on the stone or gathered around dim light sources. Two guards stepped towards us, spears in hand, but lowered them when they saw us.
“I am Ren of Atikala,” I said. “This is Khavi, of the same.”
“Jorena of Atikala,” said the leader, “and Cevota, of the same.” She breathed an audible sigh. “We’re glad to see you. Do you have any supplies?”
I surveyed the group. “What we have is yours. All these kobolds are from Atikala?”
“Yes, we were making for Ssarsdale.”
I took out a fair ration for myself from the haversack, handing the bulk of the remainder to Jorena. “As are we.”
Jorena’s nose twitched as she examined the food, but her eyes turned to me. “I smell blood, are you wounded?”
“Khavi is. Do you have a healer?”
“Yes,” she said, gesturing with a claw to an aged and exhausted kobold tending one of her peers. “She is Praxa. But first, we should introduce you to Tzala.”
It took me a second to process what she was telling me. A faint squeal escaped my lips, and my tail spasmed with happiness. “Tzala is here? She survived the collapse?”
Jorena indicated to a robed kobold apart from the others. “She did,” said Jorena, her features falling. “But be kind to her. She has not been the same since the incident.”
“I will,” I said, my concern for my teacher’s wellbeing almost overpowering. “Khavi, see the healer. I’ll be with Tzala if you need me.”
Khavi went to get treated. I scampered over the cramped encampment, hopping from foot to foot to avoid stepping on those slumbering.
“Tzala!” I said. “Tzala, it’s me! Ren!”
The figure looked up, her hood falling back. Suddenly I was staring into Tzala’s surprised face. She was still wearing her amulet. I'd never been so glad to see anyone in my life.
“Ren! By all of the dead Gods, how?”
I laughed, crouching beside her. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’ve come a long, long way, but I’m here now. With you.” I smiled so much it hurt. “I thought you had surely been crushed.”
“I thought you had surely been crushed! You were right outside the gate!” She reached out and touched my cheek. “I thought you were dead.”
I rubbed my cheek against her hand. “And yet I still walk amongst the living. Fate is strange isn’t it?”
Tzala was so pleased and so happy. It was the most sincere and joyful smile I’d ever seen from any kobold. “Most certainly.”
“I’m so glad to see you’re alive.”
She held up her left arm, the long flowing robe drooping off the end, and peeled back the sleeve with her right. Her left arm was just a stump, cut off just above the elbow. “More or less.”
I stared at the bandaged wound. “What happened?”
“My arm was pinned under debris. They cut it off to free me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You can still cast, yes?”
A brief sadness crossed Tzala’s features. She rested her hand in her lap. “Yes,” she said, “I can still cast.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, curling my tail around my ankles. “Did I say something wrong?”
/> “I can still cast,” Tzala said, her tone bitter. “That’s all that matters, isn’t it? That I have value to the community?”
I didn’t think so. Even if Tzala had lost both her claws, it wouldn’t change what I thought about her. It was hard articulating myself, especially with so many others all around me. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
That seemed to mollify her. “I’m glad you think so.”
I didn’t know how to say what I meant to say to her. “Do you want anything? Some water, food? I have some meat from a surface goat.”
“Goat?” Tzala chuckled. “I have not eaten goat in a dragon’s lifetime. I think I would enjoy it. Thank you, Ren.”
I fished out the last of the strips of Hungry and handed them over. Between her and Jorena I didn’t have much left, but I wanted Tzala to have it.
“So you went to the surface, then?” asked Tzala between mouthfuls of the meat.
“I did, to reach this tunnel.” I couldn’t suppress my joy. “And I saw a dragon! I spoke to him and everything!”
She stopped eating, mid chew, her eyes fixating on me. “Did you.”
“Yes, after the collapse we were—” I stopped myself. “Lost. We didn’t know where to go. So Khavi and I made our way to Tyermumtican. He nearly ate us both—and he ate Khavi’s sword—and I asked him about who I was.”
Tzala did not seem to share my enthusiasm. “What did he tell you?” she asked cautiously.
“Nothing.” I grit my teeth in frustration. “I begged him, but he wouldn’t tell me. He knew though. He said he knew, and that he wouldn’t tell me because that wasn’t who I was, or something like that.”
Tzala said nothing.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You’re being awfully quiet.”
“Tell me more about the surface,” Tzala said. “What did you see there?”
I didn’t want to tell her the truth, about Melicandra and the humans, but I had never withheld anything from Tzala. I told her everything I remembered, although I occasionally had to jump back or forward to relay a detail I had skipped or not remembered.
