Black Dawn - Chapter 14: Through The Azhakar Mines

Rescued at last, Aldor leads Turim’s allies and the freed captives into the Azhakar Mines to expedite their return home.

Armageddon TM and its characters and story are copyright Terry Tibke. All rights reserved.

Music & SFX

[Drifting Minds] Alexander Nakarada, [Brothers in Arms] Alexander Nakarada, [Warm Light] by David Fesliyan, [Not Much to Say] by David Fesliyan, [Spring] Alexander Nakarada, [Frozen Mountains] Alexander Nakarada, [Buzzkiller] Alexander Nakarada, [Mjolnir] Alexander Nakarada, [Borgar] Alexander Nakarada, [Leaving for Valhalla] Alexander Nakarada, [Various] provided by Audioblocks

Simulated Spike Hammer Blow.wav by VincitVeritasHammering Metal Spikes by visualasylum, Planks Clattering by Fission9, Rockfall in mine.wav by Benboncan, leather creaking 2.wav by unreadpages, medium crowd by nooly, crowd ext medium walking quickly continuous steps good movement.flac by kyles

Jake Utter [Voice Actor] - Voices Turim Gliderlance

Andrew Embers [Voice Actor] - Voices Sand Rocketblade

Demetrius Hazel [Voice Actor] - Voices Lasertooth and Darf Bloodshedder

Kobe Markworth [Voice Actor] - Voices Thunderclap and Gulanis

Sean Valley [Voice Actor] - Voices Strevan Pickaxe and Dithkanir

Hayley Craig [Voice Actress] - Voices Jaffrine Maplebow

Morgana LeFaye [Voice Actress]- Voices Tartara Silverwing

Tallent [Voice Actor] - Voices General Panthis Obsidianfist 

JJtheJetvox [Voice Actor] - Voices Meineken Shadowstar and Aurthil

Brittanie Arwen [Voice Actor] - Voices Sinfa Songbird

The Worlds Okayest DM [Voice Actor] - Voices Pond Grimslug

Ben Habel [Voice Actor] – Voices Lakalith Paledust

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot and Kithria Wraithchasm 

Aaron Anderson [Voice Actor] – Voices Aldor Steelaxe and Dark Elves

Chris Bellinger [Voice Actor] – Voices Dwarf Extras

Transcript

Chapter 14—Through the Azhakar Mines

Turim slowly rolled over to hear a tiny and familiar voice draw closer.

“Turim, get up!” shouted Tartara happily. She shook his shoulder. “The airship is waiting and we have a long way to go!”

“What puts you in such spirits this morning?” Turim asked, sleep still in his voice. He had to admit though, Tartara’s mood was encouraging.

He rolled to his knees, reached for his scabbard, and strapped on his chestplate.

“The sun is shining! I know that’s not all good news,” she piped, her face a mingling of confusing glum and glee. “But it’s still nice to feel warm again—in spite of the coming danger.”

“Your optimism is refreshing,” he moaned as he stood.

Tartara hovered close to his face as her smile turned serious. “Really, are you okay?’

Turim leaned his head forward to touch hers. “Only because of you. I’m so glad you escaped.”

Tartara held her forehead against his a moment, then eased back, looking along the ridge. “That was some scary stuff. But I’m going to finish checking on everyone, and you’d better figure out how you’re going to get them all moving.”

“Thank you.” He looked skyward as Tartara flew off.

Rubbing his shoulder, he breathed in the morning air. He did his best to ignore the obvious bruising beneath, and possibly worse. A pleasant scented mist surrounded the mountaintops and the dawn sun spat down patches of warmth all over the occupants of the ridge. It helped his focus.

He wondered if Sand was still looking for him or had he returned to Grendelock Keep? The days had blurred into one another while they were in captivity, but he was beginning to doubt he’d made the right decision in leaving Ys before Sand came back. Could he and Meineken have survived another week on the island with the dark elf assassins on their heels? He would’ve probably been home by now if they’d been able to. I can’t do much about that now, he thought grimly. What’s done is done.

One by one, free slaves awoke, complaining of sore joints and sickness from riding inside the steel cages in open weather. Their clothes hadn’t dried yet, many were ill, though their high spirits at being free hid much as the people stirred and put together what they could to eat.

He strode down the line of cages along the ridge.

During the night, the rangers, not sleeping until the earliest hours of morning, had apparently scavenged the bodies of the fallen dragonites. Even still, Strevan, Sinfa and Jaffrine continued to wrap pieces of dry bread, some leaves of an unknown smelly cabbage, and a small number of sweetnuts together in bundles for each traveler. There were also hard, leather flasks of water. It wasn’t much—there would be a great deal of sharing and skimping—but it was more than they’d had in a while.

He saw that Meineken had stayed near Lala during the night, and both were now awake. Darf and Aldor sat near the last embers of the fire. They chuckled, but didn’t speak much. It looked like they hadn’t been up long.

Turim wasn’t sure what to say to all of his companions. He felt sick they’d been pulled into this, especially for Sinfa, who’d maybe lost her life’s work. He wanted to apologize to everyone for letting them stay in the forest for so long. The words just weren’t there, and there wasn’t a lot of time for it either.

Dawn had clearly been a bit ambitious, but not more than an hour or two of preparation and they were ready to begin the trek.

Turim inhaled, then climbed up on one of the larger boulders near the cliff face to speak to the free folk along the ridge. Now it was time to let everyone in on what he’d decided to do. He was already sure that at least a few of his companions would not agree with his decision. It gave him apprehension, but it didn’t break his resolve.

“Today we will embark upon a journey to return home!” he began. “My friends and I can accompany you to Dunarg, the dwarven capital city. It’s several leagues to the south, in the Modukaz Forest, and is indeed, home to some of you. The dwarven people there should care for you. It’s clear they’re accepting refuges from other cities right now—and that we are. From there, those of you from Genova and other places can make your way to your own homes.”

Turim then waved his hand toward the miners that Aldor had risked so much to rescue. “These dwarves work in the Azhakar Mines, which lay within these Dindaron Mountains. One of the entrances to the mines is two leagues from here, I’m told. The mines will be the swiftest route to Dunarg, a direct course that doesn’t wind about through the mountain terrain. You may come along through the Azhakar Mines, or you may return along this path the way we’ve come. But my companions and I can’t accompany you if you choose to travel the mountain ridge. We have dire need to return to Grendelock Keep in Genova. These troubles need not be made your own, but we do wish to help you all get back as quickly, and as safely as we can.”

The people listened. The freed slaves’ voices whispered amongst each other, some gruff dwarven tones, and some softer or feminine, while a few had the small crack of a young boy’s voice.

After a moment, one of the larger, human men spoke. “My family will go with you, Commander.”

“I’ll go as well!” shouted another.

“Me too!”

Turim took a moment to let them voice affirmations and debates and then spoke again. “We’ve gathered the rations the dragonites carried for themselves. Little of their food is edible for our kind, and we must make due with what was spared. Jaffrine Maplebow, the dark haired woman to my right, will give each of you some of what’s been gathered.” He paused for a moment, considering the fear filled faces of those before him. “Have heart. We’ll depart in a few short moments, so gather your rations and we’ll be off.” His voice trailed away with a light echo on the walls of the cliff face.

He jumped down from the boulder and walked briskly toward Aldor, who stood with his fellow miners, packed and ready to start out. The miners’ eyes were intent on him. Aldor seemed to be watching too, pulling at the ends of his beard. Behind them stood Darf.

“All right,” said Turim with a gentle prod. “When you’re set, you lead the way, Aldor.”

“That was a right good speech, lad. But let’s hope they shan’t all follow us or ye’ might never make it in time.”

Darf looked over him too, a scowl of distaste on his face. But then he patted Aldor’s shoulder and turned away, walking southwards along the ravine.

Turim didn’t reply but looked out over the crowd of people. Sure, he had need of speed. They were going to slow him down, but he couldn’t leave them up on the mountainside. That’s not what his father would’ve done. That’s not what he was going to do. No, they would—every one of them—make it to Dunarg.

When his heart began to race again, he checked the skies and drove off the thought he might not make it home in time. Then he prayed silently for more rain.

With a snort from his big bulbous nose and a smirk from under his ruddy red beard, Aldor began the first leg of their trip, Darf at his side. His fellow dwarves trailed close behind him, speaking amongst themselves, alternating between the dwarven and common language. Turim walked amidst the last few miners.

Just behind came Jaffrine and Strevan, with Sinfa and Lala close to one another nearby. The three Ysians seemed to have taken-over keeping an eye on her, which Turim smiled at and was thankful for. It let him be at ease for her, and he could keep his mind on other matters.

Turim looked over his shoulder. What was once a train of slaves became a line of travelers. Meineken, he’d spoken to the night before. He’d remain at the very back as a rearguard and keep an eye on anything that might approach behind them, be it beast or otherwise.

Turim put his head forward, feeling the aches of his body again now that they hiked. He heard Aldor from the front, talking with Darf and couldn’t help but listen.

 “So tell me, old friend. When you said you’d be returning ‘later,’ I had no idea you meant thirty years later. I’d long given up on the idea that you’d be coming back when I started working in the mines.”

Darf’s deep rumble rolled over the miners behind them. “I… I think—well, Calarra is filled with all sorts of distractions. I’ve fought without you hundreds of times since we won. I’ve explored cities all across the continent.”

“I did keep an eye out for you, here and there,” grunted Aldor. “I visited the pits a few times over the years. I heard a tale or two of your streak. But, I’ll admit I found plenty of distractions of my own.”

“Aye. I took all sorts of prizes,” continued Darf. “But numí tends to attract thieves.”

“Always putting your foot in it,” sighed Aldor. “So what did they do?”

“Tried to get me to throw matches for pay,” said Darf matter-of-factly. “I evaded ‘em for a while, going on the run. But I lost almost everything again. That put me out of sorts.” Darf pounded his fist into his palm with a smack that startled the others around them.

“How’d you manage to put them off?” said Aldor. “You’re obviously still alive.”

“I met an—acquaintance, who offered me the opportunity to exact my revenge. I paid him every last copper num I had left to eliminate the people who’d wanted me dead.”

Turim surmised that Darf had been involved with some less than savory folk in his time. As much as he’d appreciated his rescue, and owed him his life, he certainly didn’t trust him still.

“Free to roam again, but without money to return to Dunarg. I went back to the pits.”

Aldor raised a hand and shouted out, “Big puddle up here! Hug the cliff!”

“I’ll let them know,” squeaked Tartara as she flew over Turim’s head.

He’d noticed her traversing back and forth along the line for most of their hike so far, watching for obstacles and sending messages. It seemed to keep her occupied.

“I fought for several years after that—I’m not sure how many. But then that summer, the Dragon Army took over the Chromabacks and sacked the entire continent of Daropel. That made me think of you, and I hoped you hadn’t returned home there.”

“I thought about it once or twice,” grunted Aldor. “But by then I’d come into a good deal of my own money—with the mine and all.”

“At any rate, I found passage on a ship set for Xs,” said Darf. “But we were attacked by pirates. Most were killed or taken captive. But when I told them who I was, they recognized me as a hero of the pits. Apparently they’d seen a match er’ two.”

“You were a pirate?” laughed Aldor. “But you can’t even sw—”

Turim saw Darf growl down at Aldor, and the two whisper together for a bit. He smiled to himself, but was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of Darf’s outbursts. The two were clearly close, and Darf appeared to let his guard down with Aldor around—quite different than the half-ogre they’d picked up in Ruma ‘Din.

The gentle breeze picked up, and Turim looked back to Jaffrine and Strevan no more than ten paces or so behind him. Jaffrine’s eyes gazed long southward.

“I miss the woods of Ys too,” said Strevan, wiping his nose of the cold.

Jaffrine smiled to her young companion, seeming to take notice she’d been observed. “You know me well. Being trapped within that cage was… one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in my whole life.”

“I didn’t enjoy it much myself,” mumbled Strevan, touching his scarred forehead.

The wound seemed to have healed quite well, thought Turim. There’s be a scar there for the rest of his days, just under the hair, but he was thankful that’s all the ranger had been left with.

Jaffrine glanced up at Turim briefly, smiling, then looked onward again. She spoke softer, but Turim still heard as he returned his head forward to the dwarves.

Strevan let out a groan. “What I wouldn’t give for my mother’s pancakes right now—golden delicious and topped with a pad of butter the size of a gold num.”

 Turim caught the first scent, breathing deep—the Modukaz Forest far off. Then earthy stone and rain. It had only been a moment, but he heard Jaffrine inhale as well.

“Oh Strevan,” Jaffrine softly laughed. “Here we are, marching to war, as it were, and your thoughts are on pancakes.”

“I do miss my mum and pa,” spoke Strevan longingly. “I’m sure it’s been weeks—” He stopped abruptly. “Oh, sorry. I’m a dolt. I didn’t mean to—”

There was a bit of silence behind Turim. He called over his shoulder, “The forest should come into view in a few short hours, I should think.”

It was late morning before the mist began to evaporate along the ridge. Then, as the miners ahead made a turn around one of the Dindaron peaks, Turim clearly saw the green blanket of firs, pines, and spruces of the Modukaz Forest laid out before them.

Like many of the travelers, Turim, Jaffrine, Strevan, Sinfa and Lala slowed their pace a moment to take in the beautiful view. But their destination was still several leagues south. Descending the mountain pathways would take at least two days, and probably three due to the slow travel of the small and sick ones.

Sinfa looked over to Turim, Lala at her side. “It was a thing of luck for us that the miners were among the cages, and that Aldor came to rescue them.”

Turim nodded. “True. I hope the path is worth it.” He knew she had things she wanted to say too, but she fell quiet after.

After a few small drinks, they kept on. No more than another hour passed when Turim heard Aldor’s “Knight!” shout from the front of the line. The miners came to a halt in front of a bare wall of rock, and the line trudged to another halt.

As Turim saw Aldor approach, he took a few steps to meet him and they walked onward a ways to speak privately.

“Well, Turim, this is where we head underground,” said Aldor, pointing. “The way should remain fairly lit by skylighting, but we’ll carry some torchlight. My miners and I have all sorts of ways to light the darkness of stone hollows. You’ll see.”

Dwarves have earned their reputation for stonecraft, thought Turim, gazing up at the stone face of the mountain. He still could barely see a crack.

With a few steps forward, Turim realized they stood at the base of something, tucked behind a rock, that could almost be considered a stair, though its steps were quite natural. In truth, this hewn staircase bent around right, and then led directly to a fissure behind some stone awnings, then ahead into darkness.

Aldor took Turim a short distance in to show him which way they’d go. Turim blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the mine.

“Great stairways lead from this entrance,” continued Aldor. “They’re quite safe and sturdy—built by dwarves from Dunarg and surrounding cities. But beyond the stair, we’ll reach the tunnels, and that’s where any pitfalls to those unfamiliar with these mines might lie. My crew and I will keep our eyes open for such perils though. And if luck is with us, we should make it through safely before morning. That should cut about two days from your trip.”

“Two full days?” Turim returned, feeling a little of his hope restored. “That’s a good pace indeed.”

His mind turned to the travelers then, thinking of the sick and weary. “These are innocent people, and most likely have little experience traveling far from their own villages. Wherever possible, their safety is of more concern than my own. And still, we have to make haste. The Dragon Army won’t wait long, now that the lightning storms have ceased.”

As they stepped outside again, Turim looked skyward. Then he drew his gaze up and down the line to look at the travelers. “I think we’re all ready, Master Steelaxe. You’re a fine example to both your miners and your kind.”

Aldor raised an eyebrow at the comment, but in a moment, Darf was at his side.

Turim strode forward to the road again, and called out to the line. “It’s time to decide which path to take. For those of you who take the road, best of luck and The God’s speed. Everyone else come along, and follow Aldor’s miners.”

He then waved his hand, and Aldor and Darf entered the opening to the stair of Azhakar.

As Turim watched, folk continued to file past. Every last one of the company of weary travelers followed behind them, none apparently willing to take the mountain path without the comfort given by Turim and his allies.

As Meineken came up last, Turim nodded. “All is well behind us?”

“No one behind,” said Meineken coolly. “I hope you know what you’re doing here. You know my thoughts on this, as I told you last night. Bringing this many through a mine?”

“Aldor said it would cut two days,” protested Turim. “We need every second we can gain. Why are you against this, are you afraid?”

Meineken tilted his head, then began steps towards the shadows of the opening. “You can’t save everyone, Turim.”

“I can, and I will,” Turim called after, gritting his teeth.

The walk through the mines seemed to draw itself out long, and often they had to halt for those who’d grown sick in their wet clothes, chilled further by the lack of sunlight in the depths of the caverns, and the cold autumn air. There were none who weren’t already spent from travel—none who wished anything more than to be home near a crackling fire, sipping a cup of hot plum cider and munching on toasted bread or any other delightful combination; save the dwarven miners of course, who seemed to be quite at home back in their mine.

Turim sometimes thought he heard the rain pattering on the stone ceiling hundreds of feet above him, but he was never sure. When he spoke of it to the dwarves, they told him it was simply rainwater from previous days washing through cracks in the rocks. That didn’t ease him in the least.

The few skylights they came across were far overhead. They were magnificently constructed, as were all of the archways crafted to hold up the tunnels through which they passed. Built of carved granite, they stood strong and powerful like the squat dwarves themselves. The skylights, holes cut skillfully into the stone, cast a dim grey light through the darkness, splashing it onto the floor of the caves with a pale dusky gloom. Whenever Turim came to one of these, he tried to see if the storms had begun again outside, but most were far too high to tell him much.

Many hours had passed since they entered the caverns, and still they continued down the long, straight flight of steps. As Aldor had said, the dwarves were able to provide some light, but beyond the torchlight and scattered skylights, it was fearsomely dark. For long periods, the travelers could see nothing in the vastness beyond either side of the stair; nothing save several small pairs of eyes. They weren’t close, but that didn’t make them any less frightening.

“What are those?” asked Lala. She’d stayed close behind Turim since they’d entered. “I see eyes off there to the right, as well as down there on the left.” She pointed into the pitch darkness.

Turim wasn’t sure himself.

“Cavern spiders,” answered one of the dwarves nearby. And when he said this, the eyes of all the dwarves seemed either frightened or disgusted. Several of them spat in distaste.

“I hate spiders!” groaned Aldor. “Looks like we’ll have to clear them out before work begins again here. It seems we’ve been idle long enough for them to multiply in the darkness.” He shuddered. “Cavern spiders have a sneaky way of creeping up on miners in the dark. And their webs are terribly sticky if a mate stumbles into one. That’s what bothers us the most about spiders—cleaning sticky web out of one’s beard is a terrible task. Most times it can’t be done, and a dwarf with web in his beard might have to cut a good deal—if not all—of it off.”

Turim knew few things were more shameful to a dwarf than having his beard cut.

“Are they dangerous?” asked Lala, hopeful eyed. She clearly wanted the answer to be ‘No’.

“They can be,” replied Aldor. “But I don’t think they’ll approach such a large crowd unless there are a good deal more of them than there are of us.”

Turim watched Lala shiver at that thought. So did the dwarves.

“We also have torches,” continued Aldor. “The spiders stay out of the light if they can. It hurts their eyes.”

They were nearing the end of the long stair, when Jaffrine called out hopefully. “Turim? Do you see it?”

Turim gazed up to one of the skylights. Finally, he saw droplets of water catch on the light as it fell into darkness. “Is that what I think it is, Jaffrine?”

Her palms were outstretched and she peered up into the skylight. “Listen carefully. You can hear the rain again.”  

 A burden lifted from Turim for the moment. Unless they’d instantly attacked, the Dragon Army had to have been held at bay again. “What a miracle,” he said to those around him.

Southern Cornerius remained quite dry most of the year, though in fall and winter a bit of snow fell, and only a little bit of rain. Luck, or something greater than luck, was still on their side.

At last, the company passed the stairs, reaching a wide flat place where the flight came to its end. They rested here for only a brief hour before continuing. For several hours more, the dwarves led them through many tunnels of both narrow and wide girth, but all passages were fairly straight and didn’t wind much. The ground was at a gentle slope for most of the march from the stairs, but several times they passed great holes on either side of their course, which made it seem as though they walked across a bulky, stone bridge. Out further, the dim shafts of light occasionally revealed tracks and inactive carts, and pulleys and ropes for transporting raw metals and rock up and down and out of the mine.

Finally, the weakened travelers could go no further.

Aldor chose a vast warren beneath a great skylight to rest and recover their strength. The ceiling was more than two hundred feet above them, its surface hidden by the darkness. It was late in the day and very little light came through. What did was ghostly and dim. Behind them, the tunnel was shadowed by darkness. Several enormous, stone pillars around them made the area feel like a mighty hall of kings— though there wasn’t anything to sit on save the rock-covered floor. Torches were placed all around the area to keep it well lit in case the cavern spiders returned.

The spiders hadn’t been seen since the last narrow tunnel. That brought Turim more relief than he was willing to admit; the dwarves hadn’t been alone in their discomfort. Soon he almost began to relax.

“Will you look at this?” said Sinfa, pulling Darf over to Jaffrine, who sat. “Why didn’t you get this looked at?” She wagged her finger at the half-ogre.

“Oh, yeah that’s not looking good,” said Strevan from a little ways off. “Did he take an axe? Just let Jaffrine look at it. Do you have anything left, Jaff?”

With a decent amount of grumbling, Darf allowed Jaffrine to create a mixture of herbs from her pouch, “Alright,” said Jaffrine. “Sit here, Darf. This might be a bit cold.”

As she rubbed the herbal mixture into Darf’s wound, Turim thought he heard Sinfa snicker at the wince Darf made.

While they did this, the dwarves built a small fire from mushrooms that grew in that deep place, and many of the travelers lay to take naps around it during the brief lull in traveling. It certainly felt like they’d gone a full day, but it was hard to tell. The mushroom stems were thick like wood, and the caps exuded a pleasant scent in the flames. It was during these naps that Aldor came up to Turim.

“Commander,” he said stiffly, seeming to be trying out the title like a new mead. “There’s been a bit of undermining found in the last few months in the tunnels we’re about to enter. We don’t come to this part of the mines much these days, and rarely travel this way. But we need to hike through it before we’ll hit the south entrance.”

Turim furrowed his brow i n thought a moment, surveying those around him. “Well that’s not safe. I’ll go on ahead with you. If any of us are to be lost, I don’t want it to be those I’ve drug along with me. It’s my own fault they’re here. Also, the other travelers rescued from the dragonites—well they’re just bystanders in all this unpleasantness. They’re undeserving of any peril.”

“I’ll go ahead also,” added Meineken, coming out of the shadows to squat next to Turim. “What’s the danger? Holes in the ground?”

Strevan joined them, kneeling beside Meineken. “Count me in also, Turim,” he said. “I can look after my own feet.”

Turim tilted his head towards them, then nodded. “I have no worries for my companions. Master Shadowstar is nimble and quick,” he sighed, fully aware he couldn’t convince Meineken otherwise. “Strevan, are you sure?”

Strevan looked him in the eye. “We’ve got to watch out for each other if we’re going to make it,” he said.

“We dwarves have a good eye for spotting dangers in the mines,” said Aldor. “I’ll do my best to keep us along a safe path, and we can pray we’ll be well.”

“All will be fine,” stated Meineken simply. “Let’s just get out of this confinement.”

Turim wished he could be as optimistic. He was forced to trust in Aldor’s guidance. The dwarf had lead them well so far, and there weren’t many options no matter how he looked at it.

Turim and several of his friends had decided not to sleep. When the other travelers had rested for several hours and the fire was beginning to die, Turim announced that the line was ready to move again and warned them of the pitfalls. Some grumbled for that, others for the fact that they’d not gotten a full night in.

They crossed a wide gravely causeway with a track that ran perpendicular to it and off into the darkness. The pace was as slow as ever. Turim, Aldor, Meineken and Strevan marched out front with torches and carefully watched the ground for any sign of weak stone or earth. The rest hung back a long ways, still visible but far enough off to give them warning if danger became known.

“The tunnels underneath us are really the source of the pitfalls,” explained Aldor, carefully stepping along. “I’ll have to apologize for the mistakes the miners made when digging out the area. It’s not like a dwarf to make that sort of error in judgment. Rest assured though, it wasn’t my own boys. I can blame that on some of the dwarves who worked it before I inherited it.”

That didn't appease Turim much. He was continuing to grow agitated at the slow pace—and the fact that they could fall through the ground at any moment wasn’t helping.

 “We’re close to the final set of tunnels I’m worried about,” grunted Aldor. “Up there is the final skylight in this area, the one nearest the south gate.”

Turim only knew it was there because Aldor pointed it out. It was dark outside, and not only was there no light coming through now, but the stars were invisible too. Turim didn’t know if the vantage was merely wrong or if the sky remained overcast.

Turim was relieved but still wary.

“How much further?” asked Strevan.

“For the most part,” returned Aldor, “the danger has passed. But there’s still a chance we’ll hit thin earth, so be careful. Still, I think we’ve done rather well. Another day and—”

As they came around a slight turn to the left, Turim realized—whether by weariness or foolishness—he’d been focused on the darkened skylight for too long. Aldor’s torchlight suddenly revealed a hissing cavern spider hanging from the ceiling. He yelped. The spider clearly hadn’t wanted to be there with the bright light suddenly in its many eyes either, and it scurried down the stone wall, trampling through their path and snapping its mandibles at them.

Far back towards the travelers, a scream broke out, and a full blown panic swept across the rest as two more of the spiders’ clustered eyes came out of the darkness, taking their chance at a meal.

As Turim stumbled a step backward, he heard a crack. His breath caught as he fell against the edge of the tunnel. Clawing, grasping, he tried to cling to the rock walls as he slid downward into the darkness.

He strained hard, his muscles burning. He let out a groan of pain. The sprain caused by the dragonites just begun to heal, but now the fire in his shoulder ignited. He tried to pull himself up, but the hole broke and cracked, falling beneath him. His grip slipped further, his shoulder trembling.

Then he was aware of a shout. “Hold on, Turim!” It was Meineken.

Turim felt a sudden jerk as Meineken grabbed hold of his cloak at the shoulders, knocking gravel and sand down into his hair and eyes. Pings of the stone against his shoulder plates echoed below.

There were footsteps above, and then Aldor shouting. “Don’t come any closer! Ya’ might cause more ground to collapse!”

“Hold fast, Turim!” It was Strevan. He sounded as if he crawled on his belly just above.

Turim breathed in deep, straining, struggling. He was going to fall here—die right now. How far down was it? If the others didn’t go on without him, what would happen to Genova?

He was just about to make Meineken promise to go to Grendelock Keep, but then he felt another pair of hands clamp onto his pauldron. Strevan’s strong fingers gripped, and together he and Meineken gained a decent grasp.

Slowly, jerking, they heaved Turim to safety.

The two rescuers lay back, breathing heavily with exertion. Turim rolled over onto his back, rubbing his shoulder. The billow of dust settled.

Amidst the travelers, the brave had subdued and chased off the spiders, Sinfa and Darf among them—Turim could tell. He wondered if anyone had been hurt badly.

“What kind of an elf falls down a hole?” said Aldor. “Nothing lost or gained as far as can be told—that’s good. We lost a few torches to drive the spiders away.” He spit. “But we’d best be careful as we move the travelers past this point, that’s for sure.”

Turim lay there for a moment regaining his breath while Aldor called for ropes from two of his miners. I cannot believe that just happened, he thought. He considered how much worse that could have gone.

While he sat, the dwarves gathered and seemed to be taking stock of how many ropes they had.

“No,” spouted Sinfa. Apparently, she’d decided to offer up suggestions. “What are you going to use as the deck?”

One of the dwarves stopped short and shot Sinfa a glance. “What do you know of it? A simple set of two rope lines out and back should suffice.”

“Should suffice?” scolded Sinfa. “With the amount of weight you’re about to put through this area? I think you’ve got enough rope and pitons there that we can whip together a solid load carrying member. We just need to grab some of the planks we passed back there, and drive these tension lines in here, anchor there, and all along there.”

“Now listen ‘ere, missy!” the dwarf grumbled back at her. 

Aldor folded his arms. “Isn’t that a bit much, lass? Load carrying member?”

Sinfa looked back over her shoulder. “We’ve got what we need. This will be just as fast, and a heck of a lot less risk for all these people.”

She dropped down into a kneel and grabbed a small sharp rock. In maybe a minute, as the miners around her gathered slowly, she’d scratched figures of arithmetic, layout for lines, and plans for a bridge.

Aldor’s skepticism slowly melted away. “Put it together, mates.” He turned, eyeing Turim as he still sat. “Where did you pick this girl up?”

Turim grinned, exchanging glances with Sinfa. “She’s a rare find. You should see what she left out in the woods.”

Sinfa nodded to him, turning up one corner of her smile.

In a short time, the bridge had been laid just atop the stony earth and sand. The dwarves worked fast, clearly understanding what Sinfa had drawn out—a credit to their own skill. It wasn’t long before they began, and eventually each traveler made it across the gap, beyond to safety.

“I’m keeping that in place,” grunted Aldor to Sinfa. “Might come in handy when we get to work on the new vein in a few weeks. Then we can also do it proper.”

Through the rest of the—day or night, Turim wasn’t sure—they kept on. They moved out of tunnels and into much wider warrens with wider paths and occasionally cut stairs.

“There isn’t much further to go now,” said Aldor, stirring Turim out of his fatigue. “You can see the exit across the expanse here if you look carefully.”

“Well, you can see it at least,” said Turim, still favoring his shoulder. “It’s far too dark for my eyes to see. But lead the way. I see the rest of the pathway circles around the edge of this deep area before us. That’s the way?”

“Aye,” returned Aldor. “Let’s keep moving. It’s probably nearing the last few hours of night. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

Turim looked back at everyone. “I think we all are. They’ve kept up better than I expected though.”

The rest of the journey was dark and almost silent. No one spoke. They didn’t have the strength, or mind for it. Then at last, they reached the exit to the cavern and halted. Many of the travelers broke from the entrance of the mine to breathe cool, fresh air. The din of excitement for having reached the end to their journey echoed through the hollow outside, and then fizzled out.

The travelers were beyond ready to sleep, and many of them laid down right there just inside the cavern and soon sank into it deeply without a meal, but with smiles on their faces.

 Turim breathed a sigh of relief as he passed beneath the archway into the open; the rain still trickled down. The darkness was deep blue far off now. Morning wasn’t many hours away, but above them black clouds still hung in the night. The vast expanse of the Modukaz Forest lay in the distance, but as he stood, Turim saw cloudless sky coming for them, lit by the white saucer of the moon. The sight gave him a feeling of serenity as he gazed upon it for those short moments. The air had also gotten colder over past few days. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter.

It was time to set the plan for the next stretch of their journey, though he blinked and his lids fought him to stay closed. Whether he thought he could make it in time before the assault, he had to try.

Silently, Jaffrine appeared at his side, her eyes on the Modukaz as well. “We’re going to take Sinfa,” she said.

Turim’s brow raised in confusion. They’d decided to leave. “I understand.” His heart rose with happiness for them, and sank as a stone.

Jaffrine met his eyes. “…and move on through the night and into the morning. We can move much faster without the other travelers. You, Meineken, Darf and the dwarves can keep the other travelers safe. Get them to one of the dwarven cities while Sinfa makes sure the airship is in condition for flying when you return to it.”

The thought at the loss of them had hit him harder than he expected. They truly had become friends.

“She said she still has repairs to make.”

He’d nearly forgotten. “Of course,” returned Turim. “But please, only if you’re able and willing.”

“We can make up the sleep while we await your return to The Cloudracer. It’s already been discussed while we traveled the mines.”

Turim folded his arms on his chest and stood tall, still trying to ignore his shoulder. “If that’s your will, then I won’t stop you,” he said. “Don’t do this for me though, but for both of our countries and the rest of Caball.”

Jaffrine nodded as she pulled her green hood over her head, casting the darkness onto her face once again. “As it has always been. Take care, Turim Gliderlance,” she stated. Then she turned, walking off with Strevan and Tartara as Sinfa approached with her pack.

Turim took a few steps toward the engineer, who’d danced at the Mint Hippogriff not more than a week before. Guilt stirred again. “I didn’t mean to…” he paused. “I mean that, I apologize… for not keeping us moving in that grove.”

Sinfa’s face, which had seemed apprehensive, softened. “What?” she looked into his eyes. “I was the one. It’s my fault we were captured. My fault we were taken offguard! I’m sorry for all this, Turim. I told you I could make your journey swift… and look at what happened. We shouldn’t have stopped in that clearing.” She looked as if her emotion might get the best of her a moment.

Turim shook his head. “No, don’t do that. As you said, you needed to get used to this. I’m the one who’s charge it is to protect this country. To protect… all of you. I let myself relax. My father never would have, and I did. I failed you.”

Sinfa stiffened her upper lip. “Your father?” She glanced over to the rangers and sighed. “Well, know that I accept my part in this, and I’m glad you don’t blame me for everything.”

“I don’t.”

“I need to get back to her, Turim,” Sinfa went on. “Keep an eye out for anything that might get you back faster, because it’s going to take me quite a bit to get The Cloudracer up and running smooth again—if it’s even there still.”

Turim shook his head, ignoring the fact that she was probably right. “Perhaps though there’s some purpose in these travels that we might not have the foresight to recognize yet. And in the meantime, we have to cling to the hope we have left.”

Sinfa’s eyes met with his and she smiled. “That I will, my friend.”

Turim lifted his head to look at the rangers. “Take care of yourselves. Beware of wyrms and grizziaks and all the other  monsters! You’re far more likely to encounter one of these than friendly travelers in these parts now. The Dragon Army has probably chased every dwarf in Pebak ‘Din beneath the earth at this point. I’d even guess Dragon Army scouts might be roaming. The Dark Knights are nearing us bit by bit. Our pace keeps us ahead of them, but by naught more than a blade’s width.”

And with that, Sinfa strode onward. When she reached the rangers, they waved goodbye and jogged off into the trees of the Modukaz Forest.

“Cling to the hope we have left,” Turim whispered.