Chapter Twenty-Three

Erika screamed as a crevice opened in the earth and swallowed their tram. Like a crazy ride at a theme park, they careened through a series of underground tunnels seemingly designed for their means of transport.

Cool air blasted her face as they sped along so fast that everything became a blur. After a grinding, twisting, and frenzied ride deep beneath the earth’s surface, their vehicle skidded to a halt. Trembling violently, Erika had trouble loosening her white-knuckled grip on the hand bar.

She sneaked a glance around. They’d arrived at a deserted landing inside a small cavern. Fires burned in braziers set into wall sconces. Wasn’t that dangerous? Couldn’t the flames ignite flammable gasses trapped underground?

As she stepped onto a packed dirt surface, she sniffed a rusty odor. That didn’t tell her much. Carbon monoxide and other substances had no detectable smell.

“Uh, excuse me. Smitty?”

“Yes?” Their guide, busy tethering their tram to a tall post, glanced at her. His dark eyes gleamed in the flickering light. Shadows danced upon the walls around them.

“Couldn’t there be, like, methane gas or something down here? How can you burn fires with potentially explosive compounds in the air?”

A grin split his mouth. “Don’t worry. We have a system of vents. The air is clean.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a relief.”

The dwarf raised his eyebrows as though she heralded from an inferior race that would never understand his people’s ways.

While she and Magnor trundled along in his wake over a wooden boardwalk, she wondered at the evident signs of civilization. This wasn’t a mine shaft like any she’d seen in movies, nor did it resemble the Grote attraction at Jolheim Gardens.

Plants bordered the walkway, while decorative fountains sprouted streams of clear water like on a garden path. Tiny yellow wildflowers poked their heads above the greenery. The walls sparkled from crystalline formations in the rocks while a pleasant tinkling sound brought to mind delicate wind chimes.

The temperature was comfortable, and a light breeze caressed her arms. This far underground, she might have expected it to be colder. However, geology wasn’t her forte. Maybe if you were nearer a source of magma, it got hotter. Surely they hadn’t gone that many miles, but she’d lost all sense of direction.

They crossed caverns with mineral formations that glittered like a fairyland. The beauty of it stole her breath as did the raw gemstones exposed openly as in a natural history display.

When they stopped at a ledge, she gasped at a different sight. Far below spread an entire city constructed of white stone. At the opposite end on a hill stood a magnificent golden palace.

“Great Cosmos, what is this place?” Astonishment claimed her husband’s features.

“It’s our capitol city, where King Tiberius resides.” Smitty gave him a supercilious glance. “You’ll make your appeal directly to him. I must warn you to behave. Our liege doesn’t take kindly to interlopers.”

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“Of course. Watch your step, now.”

Smitty led them down a rocky trail toward the settlement below. Along the way, they passed a contingent of dwarfs wearing leather aprons and carrying sledge hammers. Like Smitty, they sported long beards and pale, lined faces. From their lack of surprise at seeing humans in their domain, Erika guessed that must not be so unusual.

As they reached ground level and proceeded toward the city, she gazed with awe at a bustling marketplace. Short, hunched females haggled over prices while vendors hawked their wares. Where did they get those fresh vegetables? The aroma of vine-ripened tomatoes and green peppers made her mouth water.

Narrow streets merged, defining residential lanes where stone block dwellings dominated the landscape. Flowers grew in planters along the road, their bright colors contrasting to the stark white of the buildings. Mica must have been embedded in the stone, because the exteriors glittered.

A wooden chest with a flat top stood by the curbside at each house.

“What’s that for?” Erika asked, pointing.

“Valet trash service.” Smitty cast a bemused glance her way. “We like our amenities. In case you’re wondering, we have running water, sewers that lie below the city, an air filtration system, and a recycling center. Our power comes from a hydroelectric generator.”

Closer toward the palace, a commercial district was lined with shops, clothing emporiums, and more. Nearly everyone wore colorful loose-fitting tunics over baggy pants while going about their daily routine. Down here, how did anybody know day from night? Erika couldn’t conceive of an entire population living under the earth.

Overhead, wires strung with electric lights supplemented lanterns on posts that provided illumination. A low vibration hummed in the background, likely from the generator. Erika peered into a couple of shop windows, admiring the tablecloths embroidered with gold and silver thread, the gleaming copper pots and pans, and the gardening implements.

“Oh, my, look at those sculptures.” Her mouth dropped open at a display of porcelain designs.

Magnor hustled her along. “We’re on a mission, remember?”

They crossed an arched bridge over a rushing stream and trekked up an incline toward the palace at the opposite end of the city. The palace’s gold surface was so bright that it made her squint. Her heart thudded in her chest and her palms grew sweaty as they neared their destination. How would the king receive them?

They rounded a corner and came upon a chain of humans shoveling sludge from a roadside ditch. The gang was a bedraggled bunch, their clothes ragged and their faces smeared with dirt. On closer examination, Erika noticed shackles around their ankles.

She poked Magnor. “Who are those poor souls?”

“Slaves,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth. He took her elbow and propelled her forward. “Keep moving.”

“Slaves?” Her breath hitched. “How did they get here? Don’t tell me the old fairy tales are true about dwarfs stealing children in the night?”

“Those refer to trolls, and they are true, at least for the Trolleks during their incursions into our dimension. Dwarfs don’t normally keep people captive unless they’ve earned the king’s displeasure.”

“Good to know.” Her wry tone hid her attack of nerves. “What if his majesty denies our request?”

“That’s unacceptable. Just follow my lead.”

She was more than happy to comply as a set of double doors swung wide to receive them. Attendants wearing fancy court dress escorted them forward. At least the dwarfs in the inner guard didn’t bear arms, Erika thought, entwining her hand in Magnor’s.

The likelihood of this being a trap frightened her. What if they’d been sold out? What if Loki had gotten to King Tiberius first? After all, the demon had persuaded King Jorg, the Trollek leader, to believe his lies. Jorg assumed he was acting in his people’s best interests while Loki pulled his strings. The same thing could have happened here.

If Loki had turned the dwarf king against them, would she and Magnor be enslaved like those humans outside or killed outright as spies?

Magnor moved closer as though sensing her doubts. His natural mantle of authority reassured her. How horrible it must have been for him to be dragged before his tribal council as a criminal. The dishonor and shame must have wounded him more than his sister’s treacherous actions. He wouldn’t take well to imprisonment again.

Her knees wobbled but she kept her chin high as they strode through chambers decorated with gold. Silk covered the walls while woven tapestries and painted portraits adorned the rooms. Electric lamps provided subdued lighting in the air-freshened environment. A slight citrus scent pleased her. Clearly the king didn’t lack for luxuries.

A treasury of gold surrounded them, not only in the gilt work but also in the ornamental vases and bowls and statues scattered throughout the place. She wondered if any of those slaves outside had been thieves who’d heard about the treasure below and sought to raid their stores.

Smitty strutted ahead, his chest puffed with pride. Erika tapped him on the shoulder.

“Where did all this gold come from? Do your people mine the ore and process it?”

Smitty laughed. “We have no need to hunt gold in the rock when we can transform metals ourselves.”

“So tales of alchemy are true?”

“To some extent.” He strode onward without elaborating.

Magnor nudged her. “His people are goldsmiths and metal workers. They weave magic into their creations.”

“I see.” She didn’t really, but what did it matter? Still, she wondered what the dwarfs mined if not gold or diamonds.

“What of this elixir we’re supposed to obtain?” Magnor asked, his voice low. “Did Nira say anything more about it?”

Erika nodded. “It’s called the mead of inspiration. The dwarfs made it after a war between the gods.”

“That would be the two factions, the Aesir and the Vanir.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged, not as well versed on mythology as Nira but remembering the story she’d been told. “The gods spat into a cauldron to seal their peace, and out of the pot rose a giant. He was a wise poet who hoped to teach with his gift. Instead, the dwarfs killed him and distilled his blood with magic and honey to produce the mead. Thus the elixir provides wisdom and poetic inspiration to anyone who drinks it.”

Smitty rounded on them, his eyes furious. “Odin wanted it for the gods, and he stole it from us.”

“Yes, after your people murdered the giant. So how did you get the mead back from Odin?”

“We didn’t. That giant wasn’t the only wise creature who existed, so we simply made more.”

Erika fell silent, not wishing to incite him further. Odin couldn’t have pleased the dwarfs by his actions, and supposedly her lineage was derived from him.

Their escort halted just before the throne room. A collection of armaments lined the walls of this antechamber. Swords, axes and shields, wheels made of pistols and cutlasses, maces and other lethal weapons made up the display. Erika supposed they were meant to intimidate visitors.

At a signal from a page, they proceeded forward. Enormous crystal chandeliers lit the great hall, bordered by a series of velvet-upholstered chairs. The courtiers who’d assembled there wore jewels that glittered more brightly than the light fixtures. Accent tables held sparkling silver pieces, while marble busts on pedestals dotted the expanse. Gold gleamed from the lowest baseboards to the highest moldings.

A moss green carpet led to a dais ahead on which sat an ornate throne. The pudgy dwarf who occupied it wore a crown set with faceted gemstones. He addressed a young woman who stood before him with her head bowed and with shackles binding her wrists. Blond hair streamed down her back.

Smitty held out a hand to halt their approach. “Wait here until the king summons us forward.”

Erika cringed at the stares directed at them. Or more precisely, at her. Maybe the dwarfs didn’t get redheaded visitors that often. The villagers had been more polite, averting their gazes after a quick glance. But these nobles had no such manners, or else their sense of superiority entitled them to indulge their curiosity.

The king glowered at his prisoner. “For your serious crime against us, you are sentenced to labor in the coal mines until the breath in your lungs clogs with dust and the blood in your veins turns to sludge. You will learn what it means to take what is ours without asking.”

“I didn’t do it,” the young woman squeaked. “My friend tricked me. Track him on the surface, and you’ll see. He left me to take the fall.”

“You’re a liar as well as a thief. You had the goods when we found you. Consider it fortunate that we don’t chop off your thieving hand. Guards, take her away to the dungeon until the next transport arrives.”

Erika sidled closer to Smitty. “Coal mines? I thought you said a hydroelectric plant provides your power?”

“Not everywhere, lady. Some of our outer settlements use more primitive sources of fuel.”

Feeling compassion toward her fellow human, she couldn’t help her next question. “Doesn’t that girl get a trial? Does the king serve as both jury and judge in your realm?”

“Silence in the court!” the king thundered. His beady eyes inspected them. “Or perhaps you’d like to join this one in the mines?”

Smitty fell to his knees and gestured for her and Magnor to do the same. “No, my liege. Begging your pardon, but my friends are merely curious about our customs.”

The ruler’s mouth turned down. “You may approach.”

They scrambled to their feet and obeyed.

“So, humans, my Chief Courier there claims you need a favor from us? Tell me, why should we give you a single drop of our precious mead?”

Beside her, Magnor squared his shoulders. “Great king, we desperately require your assistance. As you may be aware by the recent seismic disturbances, our world is endangered. Not only the world above, but the entire universe.”

“The demon, Loki, threatens us all,” Erika inserted. She clasped her hands while facing the stern monarch. Her knees quaked and her stomach fluttered. If this went south, they might not see the sky again.

“Your help in this struggle will make a great difference,” Magnor added. “I understand you’ve agreed to be our allies.”

“We will join you in the final battle, but that has nothing to do with your request.”

“Yes, it does.” Magnor’s eyes scrunched as though he could convince the king by sheer willpower alone.

Maybe he could, Erika thought, wondering at the extent of his mental abilities. What if she demonstrated her own?

Bad idea. If she so much as stirred a speck of dust, they’d probably clamp her in irons like that poor girl.

“Hel is daughter to Loki.” Magnor held himself erect, palms outward. She wondered if he’d faced his tribal elders in a similar non-threatening manner. “She holds the key to eradicating the Trolleks. In an ancient text lies a clue to defeating them. She’s stolen this book, and I need an item of value to trade for it. I’m told she would appreciate a flask of your mead.”

The king signaled to an attendant who brought him a bowl of grapes. He popped them one at a time into his mouth as he spoke.

“The Trolleks are being led by Loki, are they not?” King Tiberius said, munching. “Why would Hel go against her father? She has no love for the gods, who forced her to dwell in the underworld.”

Magnor leaned forward. “The Trolleks are trapped on this side of the dimensional gate since we sealed the rifts. Their chief scientist has declared herself Queen. Her research has given her the means to subjugate the human race and turn everyone into Trolleks. Do you truly want those beasts to rule the Earth? You know they won’t stop there.”

The king’s face reddened. “I’ve heard nothing of this preposterous claim.”

“Hel has the only means for us to stop them. Yes, we’ll need your assistance in the battle against Loki, but first help us destroy his minions. Otherwise, we’re all doomed. Loki wants nothing less than the destruction of the multiverse.”

“Hmm.” King Tiberius appeared to mull over his words. “It goes against my grain, but I fear you may be right. It will not be easy to wrestle this book from Hel’s grasp. And then what?”

Magnor’s posture eased. “It depends on what we find in the text. Supposedly, it mentions a hidden weapon.”

A sly look came over the king’s face. “Is that so? Very well, we will assist you in this cause. But what will you give us in return?”

“Excuse me?”

Erika’s spirits fell. The dwarf king wasn’t about to let them go without bartering. She elbowed Magnor.

“Give him a gift,” she suggested in a low tone.

“Oh. I’d be happy to offer you this technological wonder in appreciation of your gracious assistance.” He withdrew the PIP from his pocket, did a few quick calculations, and held it up for inspection.

The king made a dismissive gesture. “Bah, we have no need of such gadgetry. However, your sword will make a fine addition to our collection.”

Magnor jerked upright. “What? No!”

The ruler’s eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned. He stood, his expression menacing. “You would deny us?”

Erika stepped forward, wishing she had something of value to offer. They wouldn’t want her wedding ring, so what else might entice them?

“Perhaps you would like my husband’s cape instead?” she said with a sweeping gesture. “It’s made of a fine fabric that would look magnificent on your shoulders, great leader.”

“That would merely get in my way. His belt buckle shines nicely though. I’ll take that, too. Give it to me.” He pointed to Magnor’s waistline.

Magnor backed away, his hand on his hilt. The guards around the room stiffened. They held no weapons, but somehow Erika knew they could defend their king if necessary.

“An offer is already on the table,” Magnor stated in a firm tone. “I’ll give you my sword.”

Carefully, he pulled the weapon from its sheath. He turned it around and handed it by the grip to the nearest attendant.

The king settled onto his throne with a satisfied smirk. “Bring the mead,” he commanded one of his subjects.

Once Magnor held the sealed vial containing a golden liquid, the ruler dismissed them. “Escort them to the boundary, and see that they leave the premises. Do not trouble me again, humans.”

Magnor gave a deep bow after stowing the precious vial in an inner pocket. “If I may, your majesty? Might we have a tour of the palace before we leave, so I may extol its magnificence to my brethren? Truly they should know what a great contribution your eminence will be making to our cause.”

One of the king’s men whispered in his liege’s ear.

“Very well,” King Tiberius said. “Rok’by, you take them. Make sure you show the Drift Lord and his lady every corner of our home.”

Erika didn’t like the way he emphasized that one word. What did it mean? What had that other fellow said to him?

Suspecting treachery was afoot, she swallowed gamely and followed their designated guide from the chamber.

Magnor strode alongside her, his empty scabbard banging against his hip. A feeling of foreboding crept up her spine at the conniving look on his face.