Tanner creeped into the blackness. The passage went down, and, as it turned, the entrance disappeared around the corner behind him. Tanner paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark. Dim orange lanterns hung from hooks along the ceiling. The walls were lined with wooden support posts, and ahead, the passage opened into a broad cavern. It felt like looking into the black heart of the earth.

The farther Tanner crawled along, the more deafening the crash of metal became. The air stank of sulfur, and acrid smoke stung Tanner’s throat. Carefully, he slipped behind a rock wall. In the darkness, he fingered the scrap of linen tied around his wrist. Past a line of boulders, fires flickered and flashed, and beneath a voice shouting orders, Tanner heard the sound of boys crying out.

“Faster! Move!” the booming voice yelled.

Tanner crouched low and crawled to a boulder overlooking the armory. It was hot, the air thick and hard to breathe. He peered around the side.

Below spread a cavern twice the size of the market square in Tanner’s village of Forton. The ceiling was tall and lined with jagged stalactites. In the middle of the room an assembly of rusted, gaping furnaces had been installed back-to-back, with pipes that shot all the way up into the ceiling. Exhausted boys worked in lines, lugging overloaded wheelbarrows of rocks from carts at one end of the cave to the red-hot furnace fires. Two sets of iron tracks ran into dark holes in the wall, presumably to the rock faces where the iron ore was being quarried. Boys worked the massive bellows, blasting air into the red-hot furnaces, while others poured liquid metal into stone casts. As they cooled, the strongest-looking boys hammered and sweated at long, iron gray forges and anvils. Even they were so thin that Tanner could make out the bulges of their ribs through their burned and ragged clothes. In the flickering light, Tanner saw that the rear wall was lined with wooden cages. Something writhed and glimmered from between their feet. Rows of eyes stared out between the bars.

Tanner’s gaze was caught by the reflection of the furnace flames glinting on a heap of ax heads and breastplates near the forges. A boy raised a conical helmet in the orange firelight. They’re being 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.

“Pick it up!” the guard yelled, raising his club over the cowering boy.

“Troublemaker?” 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.

“Captain Brutus,” the soldier said. “This brat may be another one for the cages.”

“Is that true?” Captain Brutus said, his face twisted into a cruel grin. To the boy, he shouted, “Get up, you lazy runt! You are here to work, not sleep. On your feet!”

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 boy’s face. Tanner felt himself flinch. “No, please!” the boy begged.

Brutus turned to the nearby boys and guards watching the pitiful scene. “Back to work! All of you. Or the Troiden will be crunching on your bones before nightfall.”

Everyone returned to work. Crack! With an expert flick of his wrist, Captain Brutus lashed out at a boy who hadn’t moved fast enough. Blood splattered the cave walls, and then the captain raised his whip at the nearest guard. “You put this brat in the cages! There should be a fresh supply of snakes in there by now.” He brought his face close to the sobbing boy and imitated a snake’s hiss. “They’ll like meeting you.”

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.

“— they will find it soon,” said a gravelly voice. A voice he had heard before.

Tanner edged closer, feeling his heart knocking in his chest.

“Our enemies draw near,” said another voice, like a whisper of dead leaves. “I feel them.”

“They’re only children,” 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 — 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, who’d 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 he’d 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 hiding?

“They may be only children,” hissed Derthsin, “but they control powerful allies. And now I fear they may have found a third.”

It took Tanner a moment to realize that Derthsin was talking about him and his friends. Children? Gor turned and the firelight captured his cruel profile.

“We have the boy back, at least,” said Gor. “Vendrake forced the truth from him. He has told us where to look.”

“We’re opening up the eastern tunnels,” put in Captain Brutus. “If we concentrate our manpower there, it cannot be long until we have what you seek.”

The piece of the mask! Tanner thought.

“And what shall we do with the boy then?” asked Vendrake.

The image of Derthsin seemed to glow brighter than before. “He is no more use to us. We won’t need to organize any further pre-arranged meetings with him. Feed him to the Troiden.”

Tanner backed away from the doorway. Picking his steps as carefully as possible, he hurried along the passage and toward the light. He emerged, coughing on the filthy air, then hurried outside. Gwen and Castor were waiting, peering from behind a rocky outcrop, their eyes wide. The Beasts were perched on the mountain above them.

“So?” Castor demanded.

Tanner filled his lungs with the clean mountain air. “They’re making weapons,” he reported. “And armor, too. The boys are slaves — they’re working the furnaces and forges. It’s horrible.”

“And Geffen?” Gwen asked quickly.

Tanner hesitated. “He’s told them to look for the mask in the eastern tunnels, but …” He wasn’t sure he could find the words.

“Say it, Tanner,” Gwen hissed. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

“As soon as they find the piece of the mask, they’re going to kill him. I was right — he’d arranged to meet Gor when he sneaked away from our camp. But now, he’s no more use to them.” His words came out in a rush. He told them what he’d seen, about Captain Brutus, Vendrake, and Gor, and the image of Derthsin in the flames. About Troiden.

“What about the boys?” Castor said, interrupting.

Tanner’s voice cracked. “They’re starving. They’re being beaten and overworked and … some of them are in cages with snakes.”

“Snakes?” Gwen repeated.

“Trapped like animals,” Castor said. He paced in a slow circle. “The boys I grew up with … I should be with them….” He punched the mountain rock. Tanner realized Castor was shaking with rage. He hit the rock again and again, until his knuckles were streaked with blood.

My feathers ruffle with a prickle of emotion. Castor is full of secrets and pain. One glance into Nera’s face tells me that. Does Tanner know what secrets lie in his new friend’s heart? I think he suspects.

I close my eyes and listen to whatever the boy’s soul is flooded with. Ah, yes …

Guilt.

I understand. My eyes snap open. Self-loathing infects the boy, like a disease. The tremor in his eyes, the shake of his hands — what is he hiding?

“Castor!” Tanner grabbed him. “Calm down.”

“Those are my people,” Castor shouted. “Let go of me.” He shook Tanner away and drew his sword. Tanner noticed for the first time that it had a cat’s claw embedded in the hilt. “We’re going to free them right now. I’ll go first….”

Tanner grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him away from the cave entrance.

“Listen to me,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “We’ll save them, I promise. But we can’t do it like this. Even if we could beat the guards — and there are a lot of soldiers — if we charge in like this, they may hurt more of the boys before we can stop them. And we may not even get near the piece of the Mask of Death. We have to think of a plan.”

Castor was shaking his head, but he was beginning to calm down. “What, then?”

Tanner thought for a moment. “I don’t just want to save the boys and find the mask. I want to destroy the armory, so those weapons are never used to bring more harm to Avantia. To do that, we need to get close to their leader — Captain Brutus — and his men. Overpower them. So we need to get in without being noticed.”

“Great,” Castor said. “But how?”

“There must be a way. I don’t know….”

“Disguises,” Gwen said. Tanner turned to her. “We’ll disguise ourselves as captured boys from Castor’s town. We’ll blend in and slip past the soldiers. Then we can get close enough to free the boys and find a way to destroy the armory.”

Castor sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s a good plan,” Tanner said, clapping Gwen on the shoulder. “We will make them pay for what they’ve done.”

Castor nodded and put his sword away.

Tanner looked from him to Gwen. “It’s up to us.”