Kael waited between wheelbarrows filled with coal with the two thugs. No miners around. Only the quartermaster, an aged man with grizzled hair and a wizened nose, spoke with Brannick.
A coin flashed in the cold air and vanished into a pouch. Then, Brannick returned. Kael followed his gaze through the steam to the clock tower. It was seven P.M.
"Five hours before night shift. Make every minute count."
Flanked by the two thugs, Kael stepped into the mines. Barely a few steps in darkness robbed him of his sight instantly. But worse was the air. It was heavy with dust outside. Here? He breathed frozen fire about to ignite in his lungs.
He folded on his knees, sweating, trembling. The very place seemed alive, a beast trapping prey in its belly. How did his father work here until this horror took him? How could the other miners... A candle. He needed to see.
As fear squeezed his innards, two green lights pierced the dark.
He snapped his gaze towards the glow. The thugs held their open burlap bags in one hand, a glass tube of fluorescent liquid in the other.
"Let me remind you all: no torches, no fire, no matter what," Brannick said without slowing down. His voice was as unenthusiastic as it had been in the bar, which made his next words all the more horrifying. "Unless you want to lose your arm before you can blow us up. Keep moving."
Kael stumbled after the two gulping thugs, his eyes wide. Gases couldn't just strangle them; they could ignite, and so could the coal dust in the air.
The tubes' light at least let him see enough of the metal planks reinforcing the walls and the treacherous grooves in the floor to follow.
From the broad entrance, he descended a ladder made colder by winter. Several tunnels sprawled in front of them. Brannick took none of them. Instead, he shoved a crate filled with pickaxes aside as if it were empty. Then, he removed a dark piece of cloth hiding a narrow tunnel.
Kael crawled inside, Brannick at the lead, a thug before him, the other behind. Gravel washed his patched shirt, hands, and face in soot. The deeper he went, the more questions he didn't want to think about tore at his determination.
Will the tunnel hold? How is Brannick so strong, and why does his cloak never move? This silence is the worst...
It lasted for an eternity, or perhaps an hour, before he could walk on stable ground again. But it was only after another half an hour of torturous silence that they reached their destination.
Stone gave way to an underground lake that reflected the glass tube lights in a deeper shade of green. No, it wasn't their lights. The water itself was a shade of green so deep, it almost turned purple. And he had to go down there to slip into the mysterious passage Garrick sent him to explore?
Beside him, the muffled sounds of leather on stone drew his gaze. The thugs emptied their bags, while Brannick observed them from beneath his hood. They tied two common swords at their belts and twanged the ties of bows to test them. Bundles of arrows littered the ground, but what made Kael grip the junk flower in his pocket was the leather suit and thick glass helmet.
They were too well prepared and expected a battle. Against what? Will he have to...
The dagger tucked behind his back seared his skin as he broke the silence. "What's in the water?"
Before he could understand what happened, Brannick gripped him by the collar. In a heartbeat, he was wrung off the ground, forced to peer into the darkness of the man's hood.
"Listen, brat. Maybe it's a spawn of The Quiet Hand or worse. Doesn't matter. It'll go after you. Never look at it, not even for a second. Focus on the passage and only the passage." Brannick flung Kael beside the suit. "As long as you lose it, we'll keep it busy until your return. Now put it on and get to work."
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On his butt, Kael remained frozen for a moment. A spawn? Did the creatures used by parents to frighten children truly exist? None believed they did, not him, not the other teenagers. Yet, in this moment, right now, he considered their existence. Not because he trusted Garrick and his men, but because he trusted their desire for what the creature guarded.
It was only when a thug slapped his back that he recovered from his stupor.
"Rah. These slum trashes all lose their balls at the slightest danger. Help me put his damn suit on." The thug handed the leather pants to his colleague while he forced the jacket over Kael's shirt.
"Here. You're protected from the water for around ten minutes. I say it for you, but you'd better hurry. You have no third option. It's do or die."
In less than a minute, Kael was wrapped in leather, dagger in hand, and a glass tube glowing at his belt. A mask-like device covered his mouth and nose, filtering the dust from the air. He watched the thug's lips move through the thick glass helmet, but only heard the promise of Sister Harrow and Garrick echo through his mind.
Not a dangerous job.
Liars. All of them.
Especially Sister Harrow. Now that he thought about it, she surely knew. Her shelter had always been crowded beyond reason, with children almost sleeping on top of each other until they couldn't make out the floor. Yet, since last week, empty spots have become more common, and a couple of young children vanished.
"I found simple jobs for the kids, or their parents finally began to earn enough to rent," she had said with a righteous smile. But... the truth made his stomach churn.
She'd sent them to their deaths. No, worse. She'd offered them to the gods of secrets and shadows, fed them to that spawn. Now it was his turn...
Never! All the clues had been before his eyes. He chose to ignore them for a peaceful future.
I'll survive to embrace it!
His hand tightened on his dagger. A thug's hand inched toward his back, probably to push him. He didn't need it. He plunged into the lake.
Water clung to his suit, both freezing and burning. The leather sizzled, while the glass of his helmet steamed. Ten minutes. A countdown to his death, ticking faster for someone who, like him, didn't know how to swim. But the suit did its job in protecting him, and the mask-like device pumped fresh air into his nose.
He squinted. The passage... He couldn't see it with the small area lit by his glass tube. Chunks of rock larger than him littered the lake bed... along with shattered bones.
No! Focus on the passage. They wouldn't have sent people if they believed it was impossible. The thing that lurks can be anywhere. Don't disturb it. Slow and steady movements. The time limit won't matter if it finds you before you reach the passage.
He gripped a rock, traced it until he reached the edge. Then, with a soft push, he launched himself to the next one.
His dark hair stuck to his forehead when he found no more rocks to progress. Yet, the corners of his lips curled slightly. He hadn't drawn its attention! And now he could see a perfect match to Garrick's description.
The passage didn't look like one, but like a narrow rend in the mine. Around it was all rough stone, but its edges were smooth and wrong, like dark glass that came from somewhere else or from an epoch no one remembers. Circular golden patterns shone softly on its surface. They had to have meanings, Kael believed, but nothing he could understand.
Too delighted to torture his mind with it, he flailed his limbs toward the passage.
RUMBLE
Tremors that chilled Kael's blood ran in concentric waves across the water.
HOOOO
A ghastly howl pierced his ears. Without turning, he knew what it was. He felt it in his bones, in his mind. Thoughts blurred with a single intrusive obsession.
The creature existed. The creature... was coming for him.
He had to turn.
DON'T LOOK
Kael roared in his mind and flailed his limbs faster. The passage was a couple of dozen meters ahead, a matter of a minute or two. Then, he'd be safe.
Just as the thought formed, a blinding pain assaulted his back.
"ARGH!"
His blood melded with the water rushing through the laceration in his suit. It gnawed at his skin and tried to devour the little muscle he had. Had he just been whipped? It didn't matter. Arms burning, heart racing, he scrambled toward the passage.
"Don't leave me alone, son. It's so dark, so cold here..." The tender voice of his mom pleaded.
Kael's mind blared to turn again, to look at his mother one last time. But at the edge of his vision, a shadow broader than three men collapsed towards him.
I'M NOT DYING HERE!
He closed his eyes and swung his dagger behind him.
CRACK
His arm shattered with a sickening crunch. The pain was worse. But it was background noise. Only survival mattered.
Gritting his teeth, he felt himself being wrenched back. He crashed on the smooth stone of the passage. He gasped, the air knocked out of his lungs. His eyes shot wide open, yet he snapped his head toward the passage.
Through the cracks of his glass helmet, he watched the smooth, dark stones. With his good hand, he grabbed them and slipped inside the passage.
He barely fit inside, and the stones scraped his exposed back, but he didn't linger. The creature could reach him. Even if it couldn't, he hated gambling, especially with his life on the line.
Without wasting a second, he slipped further into the passage, oblivious of the tendrils that slammed the stone he had been at ten seconds ago.

