SHIKOBA WOKE TO ROUGH HANDS hauling her to her feet. Bleary-eyed, she didn’t immediately recognize the broad-shouldered dark outline of the man who dragged her to a stand as though she weighed nothing more than a child. Instinctively, she struck out at the figure, but before she could strike her attacker, her chains tangled and her fisted upper cut intended for his chin bounced harmlessly off his shoulder.
A deep laugh filled the cell and Shikoba blinked. Casper stood in front of her, eyeing her pathetic efforts with a jaundiced eye.
“Flail away, Shikoba. You can’t hurt me.” He leaned in closer, pushing his face into hers, a dark scowl flattening his lips. He stopped with a bare inch separating their noses. “But I can hurt you,” he said in a soft, dangerous voice. Shikoba’s eyes widened. When she remained still, he straightened. “I have been sent to bring you to the emperor. Your service is required.” His eyes took in the moccasins on her feet and then strayed to the mask. He picked it up and handed it to her. “You are to bring this, too.”
Shikoba took the mask from him, then followed Casper out of her cell. He grabbed her elbow and shoved her out ahead of him, allowing her to lead the way along the dark corridor. He grabbed a torch from the bracket by the door. Its flickering light threw his shadow beside hers. It was much larger than her own despite being cast a longer distance. His hollow footsteps behind her caused a shiver to race up her spine. She stiffened, refusing to give in to fear, to show fear.
When they passed the next torch, Shikoba raised her chained hands to grab it from the wall bracket, bringing it around in front of her. Casper’s head swung in her direction at the sound. He chuckled, and her mouth tightened.
“You have not changed at all, Shikoba. I can read your every thought, just like I always did. Still afraid of the dark?” he taunted. “Rail against your fate, all you want. You have no life now but to serve our master. The emperor will accept nothing but your complete subjugation. You belong to him.”
“Pangolin dung,” Shikoba spat, her chin lifting. “I belong to no one. I am my own woman.”
Casper laughed. “Not even to the witches? Do you always lie to yourself, Shikoba? Does that necklace cloud your reality as well as your loyalties? You are of Shadra, of Gaia. Yet you believe the lies of snake charmers.”
“Snake charmers?” She spat over her shoulder. “Are you not bonded to a dragon? Are you not part of a triad merger, Casper? Do you think so little of the bond?”
“Ah, but there is a difference, isn’t there? I am not subservient as you are. I am the one in control. My dragon and my Dragonmerger Djinn are enslaved to my will. They serve me. I am their master, and I answer to my master. He is your master too now. If you have not been made to swear to the emperor yet, you will. You will swear loyalty or die. That is your reality, Shikoba, the only one that matters.”
Shikoba walked in silence, considering his words. “Where are we going?”
“To an area of the mines that few ever visit. My master does not allow random visitors. You are special, indeed, if he felt the need to summon you.” Casper’s voice hardened. “Do not think to usurp my position. I will kill you if you try.”
Shikoba threw back her head and laughed. “Usurp your position? Why would I want to grovel on the ground? Don’t worry. The dirt is all yours.” A blow fisted her in the back. She stumbled to the ground, dropping her torch where it rolled away. A boot came up and caught her in the ribs. She gasped, her breath leaving in a whoosh. Shikoba folded over, wrapping her arms around her middle and clutching her arms against the pain.
“Get up, witch.” Casper reached down and dragged her to her feet by her hair. Shikoba’s eyes watered in agony. “Leave the torch. I don’t know why I allowed you to have it in the first place. Move!” he bellowed giving her another shove.
Shikoba stumbled down the dark hallway, clutching her tender midriff. The lack of light and the uneven floor made tripping a real possibility, so she reached out with her hands to trail them along the wall. A high-pitched tapping sound came from the darkness, growing louder with each step. The tunnel sloped up slightly then rounded a curve. The sound grew louder as the dark tunnel opened onto an enormous cavern. Funnel-shaped and several stories tall, the walls were lit with torches stuck into the walls in concentric rings.
The wide ledges were full of people. Shikoba froze as her mind processed the images before her. She halted in mid-stride, staring at the small, slumped bodies huddled around outcroppings of rock, chained together in sets of three and four. They lifted picks, slamming them against the stone with as much force as their skinny arms could muster, but the picks were heavy and had little effect. Others gripped hammers and chisels. Those who were closest to their position at the top of the room heard the clanking of her chains. Faces turned in her direction, and Shikoba gasped in horror. The slaves below were all children. Misery was etched into their features, haunted with fear and hopelessness. Their hollow-eyed gazes made a solid lump swell in Shikoba’s throat. She tried to swallow past the painful grip, but she could not dislodge the paralysis.
“You disgusting pig.” Shikoba spun on the spot and launched herself at Casper. Her fist connected with a satisfying thud against Casper’s throat. He choked then grabbed her by the front of her tunic and clouted her with the back of his fisted glove. Shikoba’s head snapped back, and she stumbled back a few paces. The mask tumbled out of her grip, clattering on the stone. Her lip gushed blood from a deep split. She spat on the floor, angrier than she had ever been in her life. She lifted both hands to wipe at the blood, smearing it across her cheek. “You filthy animal.” Shikoba spat at Casper. The bloody spittle fell with a splat onto the toe of his boot, sliding off the side in a wet squish. “How could you sink so low?” She pointed with both hands toward the pit. “I will kill you for what you have done to your people. You are a traitor.”
Casper smiled a grim smile. “You think I like this? You think I am happy about this? You would be wrong, Shikoba. But our master decrees it. Neither you nor I have any choice any longer. He needs the children to reach the deepest depths of the mines. Places the adults cannot go. This is the way it is.” His face hardened. “You will do as you are asked and serve him, or he will see to it that your fate is much worse than what you see below. It will make their fate seem a pleasant stroll across the tundra.”
Shikoba spat again. Casper moved his boot. “I will not serve the emperor.”
“You already serve him. The only question now is, will you serve him faithfully in life or mortally in death? The choice is yours, Shikoba.” Casper clamped a steel grip onto her arm and dragged her over to the mask. “Pick it up.”
Shikoba bent down and picked up the mask. Casper’s grip tightened, and he shoved her forward, toward a staircase that descended to the lower levels.
Shikoba stumbled down the staircase in the murky light, trying to feel her way. The light from Casper’s torch cast shadows over the rough staircase, and the going was treacherous. She hugged the wall. There was no railing to grasp if she fell, and a fall over the side would certainly kill her. She hazarded a quick glance over the side. It was a five story drop to the cold stone floor below. She idly wondered if it would be better if she flung herself over the edge and took away the emperor’s prize, but she quickly discarded the thought.
Not now, anyways, she thought. First I need to discover what this is all about. If there is a chance of freeing these children, I need to find it. Maybe if I had Obsidian nearby to enhance my abilities. With that thought, she reached out to the dragon through the bond but could not get through to her. She was closer, she could feel it. T the bond was less fuzzy. Sarcee, can you hear me? Sarcee? A faint buzzing reached her mind, but she couldn’t make out if it was communication or her pounding headache.
At the third level, Casper said, “Take the tunnel to the left.”
Shikoba turned into the dark passageway, glad to leave the pit of children. She took one last look at it, fixing in her mind the horrible doom of their reality.
“Where are you taking me?” she said, without any real interest or expectation of an answer.
“To the antechamber of the ancient Naga-loka,” said Casper in a flat voice.
“To the what?” gasped Shikoba, surprised out of her anger. She had never heard of the Naga-loka, except in legend. “Is this a joke?”
“It is no joke. Surely you remember the legend, Shikoba? Well, the master has found it, the ancient city of Naga-loka.”
Shikoba did remember. Naga-loka was a legendary world associated with the creation myth of the naga. One of the plays performed by the tribal dancers every spring re-enacted the birth of the first naga. The play told the story of the first tribal queen, the Phan-Shamankas, and her capture by the Naganese, an extinct coastal tribe. Legend told that she was desired by their people due to her magical abilities and forced by the Naganese to marry their chieftain.
The outraged Shadrian gathered their fiercest warriors and brought siege and battle to the ancient coastal town. They took the town and slaughtered all who resisted within its walls. But it was too late for the tribal queen. She gave birth to a half-serpent, half-human baby. Afraid that it was a cursed child, she tossed it into the sea, along with the rest of the people of Naga-loka. Not one was left alive in the village. The queen left with the warriors and returned to her home, and a great feast was held. From that moment on, the legend of the naga was born.
“What is it that the emperor thinks he has found?” Shikoba could not deny that she was curious. “What does he hope to accomplish, digging around to unearth myth?”
“The emperor does not share his full plans with me.” Shikoba snorted and a muscle in Casper’s cheek jumped as his face flushed red. His fist tightened. “The emperor has unearthed a weapon of great power. He intends to possess it.”
“A weapon?” Shikoba laughed. Her voice was full of skepticism. “Legend does not speak of any weapon. He is chasing ghosts.”
“If he is chasing ghosts, then the ghosts have bodies. You will see. Move.” He shoved her forward and they started off again. This time the tunnel sloped down and to the right. As they walked, the torches affixed to the walls were smaller and more frequent. The ceiling lowered until the top of the torch carried by Casper trailed across it, the smoke from the pitch billowing into clouds of black. Shikoba coughed as the smoke thickened. Casper grabbed a smaller torch and stowed the one he had been carrying. The darkness shrank in on them, and Shikoba was forced to stay closer to him. His shadow enveloped hers, and she shivered as her aura was swallowed by his.
The tunnel twisted in serpentine swings, right to left to right, with no rhyme or reason. The walls rounded, abandoning the oval shape normally associated with tunnels created by humans. The air was heavy and damp with the salty tang of the sea, mixed with the musty odours of stagnant waters. She wrinkled her nose but said nothing. Water seeped through the rock, staining the walls like sweat and running down to create slick ribbons that tested her footing. She had to slow to keep her feet from sliding out from under her body. Shikoba’s right foot hit a patch, and she stumbled into the rock, scraping her cheek against the curve of the ceiling.
Swearing, she turned back to Casper. “I need a torch or I will split my skull in this passage. I can’t see a cursed thing!”
“Take the next one we pass,” he grunted as Shikoba slipped again.
She grabbed the tiny torch from the bracket as she went by and sighed a small sigh of relief when she could see the immediate space in front of her feet. She didn’t need if for much longer, for a couple of turns later, the tunnel merged into an immense cavern, twice the size of the pit they had just left. She walked up to the railing to take in the sight. Stairs led down to the floor below, and similar-sized tunnels opened onto the space, but it wasn’t the dark recesses that caught her eye. It was the sparkling light cascading off the walls. Everything was made of the jewels. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling were covered in gemstones of every kind. Fat rubies and oval sapphires; chunky emeralds and bulging opals; spikes of amethyst and rivers of turquoise; and a thousand stones she could not identify covered every surface, like a swarm of beetles.
There was but a single flat area paved in gold within the chamber. The road of sorts led to a pair of giant fretworked gates made of a silvery substance with a buffed finish. They rose to touch the cathedral-like ceiling. But none of this splendor attracted Shikoba. It was the thin ribbon of humanity that captured her gaze. In front of the gates huddled a group of ten children. They were guarded by a ring of men. Even from a distance, she could see the terror that gripped their bodies.
“Casper. What does the emperor really want with the children?” she whispered, steeling herself for the answer.
Casper moved up beside her to stand at the railing.
“They are offerings to the naga. The children are taken by the naga in exchange for that which the emperor seeks.”
“And what is that?”
“Magic.”