Brev shrugged and turned way. “See you soon,” he called back.
Creating a flame, Tyen sent it ahead. The shadows shrank away from it. He climbed onto the sled, gathered magic, and pushed against the walls and ceiling. His buttocks were pressed hard against the seat, the force transferring into the sled through his groin, and suddenly Brev’s warning made sense. Descendants. Right. But the pressure receded once the blades began skimming over the ice.
Bracing his feet, he gathered more magic, and propelled himself into the receding darkness.
CHAPTER 5
A long while later a light appeared ahead, setting the ice walls glittering, Tyen thought he was approaching the end of the tunnel and slowed, but it turned out to be a pair of ordinary oil lamps. Another young sorcerer stepped out of an alcove and warily asked for his name. Once Tyen gave it, the man relaxed and told him to continue on–but not too fast and to watch out for the bridge.
He searched the darkness ahead for any change in the icy walls. A bridge must span something. Would it be an underground river? He listened for sounds beyond the scrape of the sled runners, but heard nothing. Then the walls ahead abruptly turned black.
He slowed and approached cautiously. The tunnel widened; sleds had been left against one wall. The walls beyond were not black, but a dark void extending up, down and to either side. He brightened his flame and sent it out. It illuminated a great crack in the ice sheet the tunnel burrowed through. His light did not penetrate to the bottom of the chasm–or the top–and the crack curved away to either side, so he could not see how far it extended.
A bridge spanned the gap. Its beams were buried deep in the chasm walls on either side, forming two halves of an arch. They extended towards each other but did not meet in the middle. Perhaps they had aligned in the past, perhaps the ice walls had shifted before the bridge was finished, perhaps the builders had been incompetent. It did not matter. The gap had been patched with a new section, set at an angle and creating a kink in the span.
There was no railing. The bridge was too narrow for sleds. If Tyen hadn’t been warned, he would have sped on over the first wooden section and plummeted into the chasm.
Pushing his sled in behind the others, he climbed off and shouldered his bag. He started across the bridge. It was slippery with ice and he drew extra magic in case he had to steady himself, but he made it across without losing his balance. In the far tunnel were more sleds. He chose one and continued on.
The next pair of lamps revealed nothing, but as he pushed past them he heard bells ringing in the distance. Soon after, he saw a light at the end of the passage. A few hundred paces before it, a figure stepped out to block the way, silhouetted against the brightness beyond. Tyen stopped.
“Who are you?” a man asked.
“Tyen Ironsmelter.”
“Ah! Yira’s friend. Well, then, you can enter.”
“My thanks,” Tyen replied as the figure stepped out of the way. Pushing on, Tyen reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into a bright, glistening cavern.
As with the crack, the cavern walls in front and behind curved so that the far corners were out of sight. The roof, if there was one, was hidden in the darkness far above. Tyen wondered if the cave was another, smaller chasm, the lower half filled in to create a floor.
A few hundred people were sitting on makeshift beds, stools and chairs in the centre of the room, the only clear path through them leading to an opening into another cave. Most were women, he noted, and the only males were old men and boys. He searched a few minds and confirmed that they were the relatives of rebels. A few glanced up at him, but none appeared alarmed at his appearance. Nobody seemed inclined to greet him, either. As he let a little air through his barrier it brought the smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, cooking and garbage.
This could not be their base, he decided. It must be some kind of decoy base, and he would have to pass a test to go on to the real one. That didn’t make having the rebels’ families here any less dangerous, but perhaps it was a risk they couldn’t avoid.
Another row of sleds lined the wall he had just emerged from, so he manoeuvred his into place, climbed off, and picked up his bag. By then he’d attracted a small crowd of children. He hid his dismay. He’d expected a wary group of adults, not this.
“Who are you?” a boy asked.
He smiled at the bright, curious faces, earning grins in reply. “Tyen.”
“Are you here to fight?”
“Maybe.”
“We’re g’ta fight the Rrrraen,” the boy replied, growling out the name.” He jabbed his fingers in Tyen’s direction. “We’re g’ta zap zap zap him!”
“Well, then. It looks like I’m not needed here.” He looked around. “But it wouldn’t be polite to leave without saying ‘hello’. Do any of you know where I can find Yira?”