A pair of arms wrapped around me and warm darkness blocked my view. I heard something hard hit something even harder and a horrible garbled hiss came from my yellow-eyed foe. We hit the ground a second later and some of the air was knocked out of my guardian as a soft ‘whoosh’ blew over my forehead. Something else hit the ground and I heard the snake slither away into the darkness.
A very male groan came from the same direction and I found myself looking up into Tegan’s pained face. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed as I scrambled up onto my arms to inspect my savior.
Tegan released his grip around my waist and fell onto his back. A deep sigh escaped him as he stared up at the roof overhead. “Remind me to send down a rope next time to measure the distance properly.”
“You’re alright, aren’t you?” I pleaded as I looked him over as best I could considering the limited light that covered us from the hole.
He flashed me a smile. “Everything but my pride is just fine. I didn’t sprout enough scales to manage the landing, is all.” He sat up with another groan and rubbed the back of his head. “I could have used a plate behind here before I decided to fall into here.”
I squinted at the darkness that surrounded us. “Where did we fall into?”
“We’ve dropped into the Undergrowth,” Tegan explained as he studied the cavernous area ahead of us. “The tunnels were created by dwarves when they dug for the howlite located in these earths.”
I blinked up at him. “Howlite? Like something similar to werewolves?”
He nodded. “It’s a stone highly prized by their kind and perfectly pure specimens are said to give them the ability to transform even during the day.”
“But we heard their howling earlier, didn’t we?” I reminded him.
“That’s their way of communicating across long distances,” Tegan explained as he eased himself onto his feet. I scrambled onto mine and was just in time to catch him as he swayed. “Damn these stone floors. . .” I heard him mutter.
“Are your wings still out of order?” I asked him as I gaped up at the hole some fifty feet above our heads. That would have been a hell of a crash for a human.
“Very much ‘out of order,’” he told me as he steadied himself. He opened one hand and a bright fire burst out of his palm. “We’ll have to travel on foot and move even faster than on the surface. The dwarves are even less hospitable to intruders than the werewolves.”
My heart skipped a beat at the warning in his voice and we hurried down the huge tunnel. Countless small tunnels branched off from the one in which I’d fallen and I came to realize we must have been in a main passage of sorts. The further we traveled, the more I noticed the walls became less vine-infested.
Tegan stopped after a half hour of trudging and his eyes glowed bright green as he stared into the distance ahead of us. “There’s a way out ahead, but we’re going to have to be discreet about our movements.” He turned his face to mine and studied me. “How long can you hold your breath?”
I blinked at him. “I-I never really tried, but I guess as long as anyone else.”
“You’ll have to hold when we reach the dwarf camp,” he warned me.
I blinked at him. “Why?”
“Dwarves are very sensitive to air motions. They can detect air pockets as small as a person’s breath.”
A little bit of color drained from my face but I steadied myself. “I can hold my breath for as long as I need to.”
A crooked smile slipped onto his lips as he beamed down at me. “Good girl. Now let’s go.”
We now crept very slowly down the tunnel and the way ahead increased in brightness with every step. Eventually, we reached a stack of wooden crates which we ducked behind. We peeked over the top and I beheld a depot of sorts. A half dozen equally large tunnels met at the circular open space but unlike ours, four of those had mine cart tracks that led into their depths. The tracks met at the center of the clearing.
Doorways had been carved into the stone between the tunnels and led into clean living quarters. The houses were furnished with heavy wooden furniture and cast iron pots and pans. Each of the homes also featured several floors that, at the very least, featured windows, and most had wooden balconies that stretched out into the void and overlooked the area.
What really captured my attention was a smaller tunnel to our right. The corridor led at a gentle angle up to the light of day. A complicated system of pulleys and another track followed the incline to fresh air.
A dozen or so short men were crowded around an enclosed furnace. They wore thick pants and shirts of some plain flax but stylized with curved geometric designs that reminded me of a Celtic cross I’d once seen. Heavy boots covered their feet and helmets were laid at their feet. They all had the customarily long beards and mustaches, made from their brown hair. Bulbous noses stuck out of their surprisingly clean faces.
The furnace around which they congregated had an insanely long smoke pipe that stretched two feet above the floor via a convoluted mess of stone and wooden pillars. The pipe disappeared up the lit tunnel and no doubt deposited its contents into the open air.
One of the dwarves doled out grub from a pot atop the stove and onto pewter bowls held by his compatriots. The stuff looked like slop but smelled like ambrosia, and my empty stomach gurgled a little before I set a hand over it to quiet its complaints. The dwarves, each with his prize, took up one of many low stone stools around the furnace and dug into their food.
“You did it again, Mat!” one of the eating dwarves complimented the cook.
“Best saus I ever had!” another chimed in.
The cook wagged his ladle at the company. “You’re just saying that because you want seconds but you won’t be getting any more of this until your shift starts again.”
“That’s cruel of you, Mat,” the first dwarf scolded him as he lowered his spoon long enough to speak his peace. “Getting us to go back to work on a promise of your food.”
“You’ve only got four hours to it,” Mat scolded him as he closed the lid on the pot. “Get some sleep and dream of howlite.”
One of the other dwarves scoffed. “We’ve got plenty of that, Mat, we just need to find the pure stuff those hairballs want.”
“They still pay a good price for what you boms dig up, so stop your complaining and finish your food,” Mat snapped.
The dwarves continued to grumble but they finished their meal and slunk off into their hollowed-out homes. The cook turned down the fire and plopped himself down on one of the stools with his own grub. He had his back turned to us as he munched away on his food.
Tegan caught my attention and pressed a finger against his lips. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he crept forward toward the distracted dwarf. I noticed he held his breath as he did so.
The dwarf lifted his head and scoffed. “You’re not as good as you think you are. I could hear your footsteps a mile away.”
Tegan softened his stalking stance and grinned. “I thought I had done a decent job.”
The dwarf half-turned in his seat and nodded at my hiding spot. “Maybe you had but whoever you’ve got with you breaths loud enough to fill the sails of a ship.”
“She hasn’t the experience I have,” Tegan countered as he beckoned to me.
I reluctantly slipped out from behind the crates and scooted over to Tegan. The dwarf looked me over and lifted an eyebrow at Tegan. “Not your usual style.”
Tegan shook his head. “It wasn’t my usual wooing, either.”
The dwarf took a bite of his stew and looked him over. “Is that why there’s something different about you? You’re shining like a pure piece of howlite.”
A low rumble echoed out of one of the mine cart tunnels. Mat shot to his feet and caught our eyes as he jerked a thumb in the direction of the lit corridor. “Get out of here while you still can and mind you don’t get caught by the men loading the carts up there. They don’t like snoopers.”
Tegan smiled and gave him a lazy salute as he took up my hand. “Thanks for the tips.”
And with that, Tegan led me up the tunnel and toward the light.