forced to make weapons that might cut down their own families, Tanner thought. His chest tightened with rage.
Guards in dark armor patrolled the work lines, armed with clubs. When a boy pushing a cart tripped and spilled a pile of black coal, one of the guards beat him until the boy crumpled, whimpering.
âPick it up!â the guard yelled, raising his club over the cowering boy.
âTroublemaker?â said the deep voice Tanner had heard from outside the cave. A soldier stepped into view. He was a head taller than the rest of the guards, and his armor was covered with small red-brown handprints and streaks. Blood, Tanner thought. The man carried a long black whip.
âCaptain Brutus,â the soldier said. âThis brat may be another one for the cages.â
âIs that true?â Captain Brutus said, his face twisted into a cruel grin. To the boy, he shouted, âGet up, you lazy runt! You are here to work, not sleep. On your feet!â
The boy used the side of the cart to try to pull himself up, but it tipped over, spilling coal. With a jerk, Brutus cracked his whip in front of the boyâs face. Tanner felt himself flinch. âNo, please!â the boy begged.
Brutus turned to the nearby boys and guards watching the pitiful scene. âBack to work! All of you. Or the Troiden will be crunching on your bones before nightfall.â
Everyone returned to work. Crack! With an expert flick of his wrist, Captain Brutus lashed out at a boy who hadnât moved fast enough. Blood splattered the cave walls, and then the captain raised his whip at the nearest guard. âYou put this brat in the cages! There should be a fresh supply of snakes in there by now.â He brought his face close to the sobbing boy and imitated a snakeâs hiss. âTheyâll like meeting you.â
Tanner was breathing hard, his hands balled into fists. He dripped with sweat as he eased himself back, away from the boulder. Pressed against the wall and gripping his sword tight, he creeped into the recesses of the caverns.
He reached a fork. Blazing light cast flickering shadows down one tunnel; the other was black as a starless night. Steeling himself, he took the dark passage. He had a sense of Firepos sending him encouragement. Keep going. Stay strong.
Feeling his way with just the fingertips of one hand, Tanner noticed the air cool. I must be heading away from the furnaces and into the mine. Who or what was the Troiden? What lived down here in the darkness of the Hidden Mines? Gradually, his ears picked out the ringing of pickaxes on rock. This must have been another route to the rock faces, deep in the mountain. He made out stairs, cut into the tunnel, and heard water dripping in the gloom. Tanner took a few more steps around a gentle bend and paused. Dim torchlight cast red shadows on the wall opposite a roughly hewn arched door.
ââ they will find it soon,â said a gravelly voice. A voice he had heard before.
Tanner edged closer, feeling his heart knocking in his chest.
âOur enemies draw near,â said another voice, like a whisper of dead leaves. âI feel them.â
âTheyâre only children,â scoffed General Gor impatiently.
Tanner reached the doorway and looked through. Within was a simple chamber. Gor, dressed in his black armor, stood with his back to Tanner, and beside him was Captain Brutus. There was a third person â a man in a cloak. Tanner knew that if the man turned around, he would see a scar snaking across his face and throat. It was Vendrake, whoâd ridden in the chariot. The three of them were addressing a low flame that flickered yellow and green, until it finally settled on blue. There was the face heâd seen before amid flames: Derthsin. Even from this distance, Tanner could see the ugly scars on his face and the glow of evil in his eyes. Where is he? Tanner wondered. Why does he need to send visions of himself? Where is he
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