“What about my sister? Finn? He’s got to be broken knowing that his bloodkin betrayed us. If they’re all in Solanine’s grasp, that means the Fallen will soon have them. That’s the main force of the rebellion.”
“Ruane’s a resourceful one and needle dick has a harder constitution than you give him credit for. They’ll head to the mines.”
“The Arbiter’s bloody axe,” the drakken cursed. They were left with very little options. He looked south. “Then I guess we better find a ride.”
“Lucky for you, I know where one is.”
Lojen probably would’ve raised an eyebrow if he had any, instead the tiny spikes along his eyehole quivered. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised about this?”
“When will you learn that Emre has planned everything to the detail?”
“Everything but Val’s betrayal,” Lojen muttered.
“Come on,” Wick said sullenly, perhaps even thoughtfully, limping away from the crashed airglider.
They found a truck within a garage a few streets down from where they’d crashed.
Per Wick, the place was a safehouse, though the dust that’d covered everything told Lojen it hadn’t been used in some time. Wick had gotten the mining vehicle up and running within minutes, and they were racing through the empty streets of Drenth. Ancantha—who Lojen’d learned was Wick’s mate—stayed behind with the intent to send word to any rebels still alive that the time to head to Kalderim was now, where she would soon head.
The aethecite mining truck bounced along the shoddily paved road through the darkened streets, jostling Lojen within his seat.
A double-lane road broke through the high sand hills like a black river, but the winds that blasted through the desert had long made the once smooth road nothing more than a trail of potholes. There was also a train track that ran parallel, but most of the rails were covered in windswept sand.
It was cold within the desert, and to Lojen, it felt good against his scales—though Wick was constantly shivering, even with his fur. He saw nothing in the distance but the dunes, no trees, no plant life silhouettes. Sand rising high and dipping low into valleys, that was it. The Sea of Mist wasn’t dense, but visibility was hardly more than twenty yards, if that. The Sea rose high above them, the fog blotting out the stars. The moonlight barely pierced through the haze, same with the headlamps on the truck.
It felt as if they were all alone in the world, a dark and dreary world aiming to swallow them whole. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any daemons or wights roaming about out here.
Lojen had never been this far south and seeing the desert dunes up close was something he normally would’ve treasured. But all he could think about was the plan going to piss ‘n dung. Emre and Finn captured. Valeria Dunleith betraying them. Ruane safe yet still doing something stupid no doubt.
“Not far now,” Wick said. His ears flapped in the wind. Lojen hadn’t been able to understand why the lapin had chosen a vehicle with no top, leaving them exposed to the elements. He tried to blink away the grit but found it nearly impossible. “Mines are just ahead.”
“How far out from the city are we?” They’d been driving for a solid two hours now and they hadn’t seen a single light source since leaving Drenth behind.
“Close to fifty miles,” Wick answered, squinting through the Sea, then pointed. “There.”
Lojen saw a solitary light in the distance just beginning to pierce the Sea. A brightness atop a lone pole, beam growing brighter the closer they got.
The dunes went from massive hills to low mounds now, and then to flat. The road grew smoother. Low-profile structures rose from the sands, tiny bulbs of light shone dimly in the hazy Sea. A gate appeared across the road, and Wick hopped out to raise it by hand. Lojen scanned the surrounding structures.
“Empty?”
“Nothin’ here but aethecite and sand,” Wick said as he jumped back into the driver’s seat.
“I heard vvyrms like to burrow out here.” Lojen’d heard that vvyrms might also be the source of aethecite, but if that was true, then the most precious fuel supply in the Mistlands was nothing more than scat, which was comical. He shook the thought away. “I’m surprised there’s no guard here. With how important aethecite is.”
“Ain’t been a vvyrm ‘round these parts in some time. Maybe a half a year. Most are saying the vvyrms are dying out. Sightings been very rare.” The truck rolled past the gate. “There used to be soldiers watching the mines at all times. Workers down deep at all hours.”
If the terrisvvyrms were dying out, then the world was even closer to the realm of Death than they thought. “But no more? The guards, that is.”
“Happened about a year ago. Mines all closed at night. Some of the miners who would stay late swore they heard screams.”
“Screams?”
“Down in the deep you hear some weird things, Lojen. Things that don’t make sense. Some claimed they saw ghosts. Who knows? All I do know is that about this time last year, Lu Har closed the mines at dusk. Guards used to patrol the top level. Fully armed, too. Emre and Tevun wanted intel on the closing. But then about a month ago, everything went dark.”
“A month?” Lojen leaned forward. “These are the mines you humir have been fighting over? Looks like nothing but a bunch of holes in the ground.”
“That’s probably the truest statement I’ve ever heard,” Wick said dryly, making Lojen feel like a dunce for even stating such a comment.
The mines, he saw in the dim light, were scattered about the dunes, trussed entrances leading to darkened tunnels of aethecite. Outbuildings lined paved streets in a mishmash pattern. Trucks and carts with top-open beds slept dormant about the roads, some half-filled with the crystal ore. One of the roads led off further into the desert.
“Where’s that road lead?”
There was a massive rumble in the ground, the entire truck shaking under them. Lojen grabbed the door and looked all around trying to find the source of the quake. When he turned back the way they had come, from Drenth, he saw the lazy moonlight within the Sea go black. Another tremble hit the sands; mounds flying. Even in the dark, Lojen could see the sprays.
“What is that?”
“That, Lojen, is one of your vvyrms. Guess they aren’t all dead yet. Means the Forgemistress may yet still favor us this day’s turn.”
XLIII
Cadrianna
SHAPES MOVED THROUGH the columns inside the compound, hours after the chaos of the party had died down, the last of the guests disembarking the floating fortress.
