Shadows of Moth (28 page)

Lari grinned at his
side. "We will show the world what pathetic, sniveling creatures
nightcrawlers are. You are nothing but worms. Stinking, disgusting
worms. Look at you." She made a gagging sound. "You sicken
me."

Lunge
at her,
Madori told herself. Her fists trembled.
Pull
her off her horse. Wring her neck!

Yet how could she?
They wore armor and bore blades, and many soldiers stood around them.
Madori was so weak she could barely stand, and chains hobbled her.

Now
is not the time to fight,
she thought.
I'm
too weak to use magic, and I have no weapons. But in the mine they'll
give me food, and they'll give me a pickaxe.
She gritted her teeth.
And
first chance I get, I'll drive that pickaxe into Lari's head.

"I will be
returning now to the war!" Serin announced, voice ringing across
the camp. "There are many more Elorian cities to destroy, many
more nightcrawlers to kill or enslave. As you work, slaves, think of
them. Think of their agony. And think of how you suffer. Radian is
the true light of the world. You now feel its burn." He turned
his horse back toward the camp gates. "As I conquer and kill,
Princess Lari Serin will remain to command you. Obey her every order,
or I promise you: she has new ways of hurting you that will make you
miss the whip."

With that, the
emperor spurred his horse and rode off, leaving Lari in the
courtyard.

The young princess,
her golden hair cascading in perfect locks, turned toward Gora.

"Toss these
ones in with the others, soldier," she said. "Those worms
have lazed about long enough. Let them all dig together. Let them dig
for the iron that will slay their own miserable kind." She
snorted. "And next ones that die, burn them outside the camp; my
tent still stinks of the last nightcrawlers you burned."

Gora bowed his
head. "Yes, Your Highness." He turned toward the Elorian
prisoners. "All right, worms! Move! It's into the mine with you.
Time to dig or die. Go!"

He cracked his
whip, and the Elorians began to shuffle out of the courtyard. Their
chains jangled, and their brands blazed against their shoulders, raw
and red. Most of the prisoners were too weary to lift their heads.
Madori herself struggled for every breath. How could she possibly dig
in this state? She doubted she could even raise a quill, let alone a
pickaxe.

"If you want
us to dig," she blurted out, "let us eat and drink and rest
first!" She knew she was being a fool, but she couldn't stop the
stream of words. "We're almost dead. We've just walked for
turns. If you want us to be good workers, give us a meal! Give us
water. Give us a turn to sleep."

Gora growled and,
as expected, his whip slammed against Madori's back. She fell to her
knees, gasping for breath.

Hooves pounded as
Lari rode her horse near. The princess laughed icily. "A feisty
one we have here! Beat her to death, Gora. Make it last a while. I
would like to—" Lari froze. Her eyes narrowed. The princess
inhaled sharply, dismounted, and knelt beside Madori. "By the
sunlight . . ."

Madori stared into
Lari's eyes, saying nothing.

Lari's face split
into a huge, toothy grin. She looked like a child who had just been
given the world's largest cake. "I know this one!" Lari
laughed. "The mongrel! It's Madori the mongrel!" She turned
toward Gora. "I changed my mind. This one will live. In fact,
this one will not be a miner." Lari looked back at Madori, and
her smile turned cruel, predatory. "She will be my personal
servant. I'm in need of a handmaiden in this camp. Yes, this mongrel
will suffer a special fate."

Madori cursed
herself. To the song of whips and wails, the Elorians' slavery began.

 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
UNDERGROUND

Neekeya ran through
the tunnel, Tam at her side.

Father
. . .

She panted. Her
eyes stung.

Father,
where are you?

The tunnel walls
raced at her sides, painted with murals of crocodiles, cranes, and
reed boats navigating marshlands. The torch she carried flickered,
the only source of light. The floor sloped steeply, and the tunnel
wound like a corkscrew, moving down the pyramid. They had been
running for what seemed like ages; surely they were beneath ground
level now, plunging deep into the earth, fleeing the threat above.

"We will
live." Tam, who ran at her side, met her eyes. "I promise
you."

Live?
What use was there for life as a coward? She was fleeing battle. She
had left her father to die. She had left her kingdom to burn and all
her people to perish in the Radian fire. She wanted to shout these
things at him, but she only nodded silently.

Yes,
perhaps I must live now, a last promise to my father.
The pain squeezed her chest.
To
bring new life to a fallen dynasty. To live as beggars, exiles,
wandering the world, alone, forgotten . . . carrying a secret light.

"Find the
swamp wench and the boy!" rose a shout above. "Slay them!"

Neekeya growled.
She recognized that voice.

"Prince
Felsar," she muttered.

Last she had seen
him, the Prince of North Daenor, traitor to the kingdom, had been
caged outside the pyramid, imprisoned for joining the Radian Order
and threatening Eetek with destruction. Now destruction had fallen,
and Neekeya felt sick at the thought of the traitor freed.

"You cannot
escape me, Neekeya!" His voice rang above, and his laughter
echoed. "I have seen you flee into the tunnels as a rat. Come
face me, coward, and die salvaging some of your honor."

Neekeya drew her
sword and made to spin around, to charge back up and face him. Tam
grabbed her arm, holding her fast.

"No, Neekeya."
He tugged her. "I promised your father I'd lead you to safety.
Felsar will have many men with him. Now is not our time to fight
him."

She trembled with
rage, but she nodded and kept running further down the tunnel with
Tam. She cursed herself for not slaying the prince when she'd last
faced him.

The tunnel leveled
off and widened into a great hall, large enough for a dragon to fly
through. They had reached the great Eetek Mines, the source of her
family's power and wealth. Many crystals gleamed upon the cavern
walls, and carts full of mined gems gleamed upon tracks. Amethysts,
topaz, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds all shone here. The miners
were gone—whether they had left to fight or seek safety elsewhere
Neekeya did not know. Metal tracks plunged into shadows, leading to
the deeper mines. A crevice split the floor, and peering down,
Neekeya saw a rivulet of lava gurgling in a red river.

"The Mines of
Eetek," she whispered. "A place of wealth, beauty, and
magic." Even in the horror of war, she paused for a heartbeat,
marveling at the beauty of the place.

Shouts rose behind
her.

Tam and Neekeya
spun around, swords raised.

Prince Felsar
emerged from the tunnel into the mine. With him ran a hundred
soldiers or more—Magerians in black steel. Felsar himself wore a
black breastplate now; it sported the Radian sigil.

He pointed his
sword at her—the long, thin sword of a Magerian. "There they
are."

Neekeya sneered.
"Felsar! You are a fool." She spat. "Do you really
think you're one of them? You clad yourself in Magerian armor, but I
still see your dusky skin. You wear the sigil of the eastern empire,
but the blood of a Daenorian still pumps through your veins. You are
a traitor."

The
prince shook his head. "No,
Latani
.
You fail to understand. Daenor can no longer stand alone, an outcast
in the sunlight. The time has come to join the rest of Timandra, to
be equals in a sunlit empire. That is what the Radian Order gives
us—equality. All who serve Serin will find honor. And all who seek
to fight my master will perish. And so will you and the prince pup."
He turned toward the Magerians around him. "Slay them."

The Magerians
raised crossbows. Quarrels whistled.

Neekeya and Tam
dived and ducked behind a metal cart. The bolts slammed into it, and
gemstones cascaded.

Boots thumped as
the enemy ran forward. Growling, Neekeya shoved against the minecart
she hid behind. It tilted over, spilling hundreds of gems across the
floor. Three Magerians, racing forward with swinging swords, tripped
and crashed down, clumsy in their armor. Others knelt and began to
collect the gems.

Neekeya tugged the
emptied cart back onto the track. She jumped inside and gestured to
Tam.

"Well, come
on! You wanted to save me, right?"

He nodded and
leaped into the cart too. More crossbows thrummed. They ducked and
the quarrels flew over their heads. Neekeya grabbed a lever and
tugged, releasing the cart's brakes. With shrieks and a shower of
sparks, the trolley began racing down the metal rails, heading deeper
into the mine.

Wind whipped their
hair. They gripped the sides of the cart, ducking as more quarrels
flew overhead. The tracks plunged down into darkness, and craggy
walls raced at their sides, their gemstones blurred into streaks.
Only several scattered torches provided illumination.

"Idar's
Beard!" Tam cursed. "Is this thing safe?"

Neekeya shook her
head. "Not at this speed. But neither are Radians with
crossbows."

As the minecart
trundled down the track, she glanced behind her and cursed. Several
other carts were racing in pursuit, the enemy within them. Prince
Felsar sat in the lead trolley, and Magerians filled the carts behind
him. All bore crossbows and swords. Another bolt fired and Neekeya
ducked, dodging the projectile.

"Neekeya,
watch out!" Tam shouted.

She winced to see a
sharp turn in the tracks. Desperately, she grabbed the lever and
tugged on the brakes. The cartwheels screamed. Sparks rose in a
fountain. As the cart skidded along the turn, it tilted over, nearly
spilling Tam and Neekeya. Below, she could see the darkness plunging
down to the river of lava. She screamed and leaned the opposite way,
and the cart's wheels slammed back down onto the track. They kept
racing downward.

"Idar's Soggy
Britches," Tam muttered.

An instant later,
Neekeya saw Felsar's cart just barely make the turn; it too tilted
and nearly tumbled down before righting itself. The cart behind
Felsar, however, did not break in time. It began to make the turn,
then veered off the rails and tumbled down. Men screamed inside
before crashing down into the lava.

Neekeya's cart made
another sharp turn, plunging into a dark, narrow tunnel that led
deeper into the earth. Diamonds shone in the walls around her, and
the ribs of ancient reptiles rose like archways above. The enemy
carts pursued. Crossbow quarrels flew, and Neekeya ducked. The
missiles whistled and slammed into the cart. One quarrel slammed into
a wheel, and the cart leaped and nearly overturned. It crashed back
down onto the tracks with shrieking sparks.

"Tam, grab the
lever!" Neekeya shouted.

She sucked in air
and rose above the edge of the cart. A quarrel whistled and she
tilted, dodging it.

Focus.
She inhaled deeply.
Summon
the magic.

She chose the
tracks behind her. She claimed the metal. She changed the material,
lifting the rails like the tusks of a rearing elephant.

The minecart behind
her hit the shattered metal and flew into the air. Behind it, other
carts bolted and tilted, slamming into one another. Felsar screamed,
his cart tilting madly. Trollies crashed down into the lava below.
Smoke and dust obscured the tunnels, blinding Neekeya.

Her cart kept
racing downward.

No enemies pursued.

She breathed out a
shaky breath of relief.

We're
safe.

"By Inagon's
moldy pits!" Tam shouted, laughing. "That was brilliant.
Absolutely brilliant."

The tracks led them
onward, soon leveling off. They slowed down in a towering, craggy
hall the size of a palace. The track here stretched over a chasm, and
the lava roiled and bubbled below. Only the thin, rickety
track—humble rails cobbled together into a bridge—separated the
cart from the inferno below.

The track finally
ended at a stone platform that thrust out from the cavern wall. A
staircase stretched ahead, leading upward into shadows. The minecart
rolled to a stop at the platform. No other carts followed; they all
must have fallen off the broken track.

Legs rubbery,
Neekeya and Tam climbed out of the cart onto the stone ledge. The
platform was only a few feet wide, trapped between the lava and the
staircase.

Growls rose to her
side.

Eyes narrowed,
Neekeya turned toward the sound. A barred door was worked into the
stone wall. Beyond lay a chamber full of furry black creatures the
size of boars. Tipped with claws, their forepaws were massive; they
formed half of each animal's mass. The creatures' tapered heads were
eyeless, their noses were long and pink and whiskered, and sharp
teeth filled their mouths.

"What are
they?" Tam asked, eying them wearily.

"We
call them minemoles," Neekeya answered, "though their true
name in our tongue is
da'altin
.
They are excellent diggers—they dug these mines—though they're also
nasty, hungry creatures who thirst for human blood." She
shuddered. "Several times, miners cut their fingers upon sharp
stones. The minemoles smelled the blood like sharks and . . ."
She shook her head wildly. "Never mind that." She pointed
at the staircase. "Here the mine ends. These stairs will lead us
into the western swamps, hopefully beyond the battle. From there
we'll travel, hidden between the trees, to the sea."

Tam nodded and took
her hands. "We'll find the sea. I promise you. We'll sail to
safety. If my parents still live, we'll find them. We'll survive."
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I'll look
after you always. I'll love you always."