Chapter Four: Starlight Mines

  Ember left Luriana’s clearing more bewildered than when he had stumbled across the mysterious water creature. But three things were certain. Fern was alive and needed rescuing. Noxan had murdered his mother and needed to die. And to accomplish that, he would likely have to seek out the Gilded Mountain—wherever that was. He shoved the thought aside. First Fern. Then Toby. Determination fuelled his steps, Luriana’s parting words lingering in the air like a spectral guide, leading him forwards.

  As such, by the second day, Ember arrived at the Ruinstead Mine. Very hungry and very tired.

  The sun was dipping beneath the treetops and a golden shimmer leaked through the canopy of trees casting a long shadow across the rocky entrance that loomed ahead. Partially obscured jagged edges caught the fading light highlighting the rugged undergrowth and loose shale that surrounded the opening.

  From his hiding place behind a dense thicket, Ember examined the entrance, his stomach feeling the familiar pang of hunger that was creeping back into his gut. The overwhelming scent of stew floated through the cool air, compounding his cravings, and making his mouth water. Just beyond the fires glow, half a dozen solders sat in a loose circle, their laughter and muffled conversation penetrating the trees that circled the mine’s camp, their words drifting into the forest. The rusty iron kettle over the flames simmered and hissed, its contents promising warmth and relief, teasing his aching gut and numb limbs. The scent, the fire, the promise of food—they pulled at him, tempting him.

  But the soldiers, as relaxed as they seemed, were still armed, and that was more than enough reason to avoid them. He had learned that the hard way.

  He needed to be careful, he realised, these soldiers wouldn’t give him a second chance.

  He swallowed hard suppressing the mix of hunger and anxiety as he grasped the bark of a low branch and pulled it down to observe the camp thoroughly. The camp was in disarray—scattered mining equipment, heaps of loose stone and the remnants of endless excavation efforts lay forgotten on the dusty ground.

  His eyes fell back onto his target, the mouth of the mine. The reason for his journey through the Vyen forest. It used to be a cave, but in reality, it no longer resembled a natural formation. The entrance, a gaping manmade wound in the rock face, had been carved with precision , its sharp edges betraying the hand men.

  Ember had not been out here in years, and he thought back to when the King’s soldiers had invaded Ruinstead over two years ago. Wasting no time, they began the immediate conscription of every able-bodied man and woman to fight in the Narrow Pass, the pinch point of the Southern War.

  Those unfit for battle were forced into hard labour, their days spent carving deeper into the mine’s heart. Three times a day, a roster of men, women and children were marched under armed guard to the cave’s entrance and forced to work.

  Quite often many workers wouldn’t return due to cave in, but Ember had heard horror stories of the deepest tunnels where those who went down didn’t return and those who did emerged as hollow husks. A shadow of their former selves, stumbling through their life like mindless ghouls, their eyes vacant, their lips muttering inaudible nonsense.

  Ember didn’t consider those stories accurate but for years, he had speculated what the King was searching for. He believed it may be gold they were looking for the fund the war, or possible an ancient powerful artifact.

  Was it the same thing Fern and my mother were looking for? He wondered. Were they responsible for al this?

  Two years had passed since Ruinstead had fallen and it was sinking deeper into poverty under the Kings rule with each passing year. Every resource, every hand, every spare effort had been put into finding—searching for whatever lay hidden in this ancient cave.

  Apparently, his destiny lay hidden down there, he mused, mocking the water demon’s cryptic words.

  At that moment, as if the air was beckoned by his inmost thoughts, a light whispering breeze swept across the emptiness of the camp. It lingered brushing lightly against him as it passed like a spectral hand caressing the warmth of his living flesh. A smell both ancient and sweet as if exhaled from a long-sealed tomb carried in the air, the scent of wet stone and old linen unspooled from a corpse.

  Then a sound.

  Not one meant for the ears, but a vibration of notes so faint and distorted. They pulled on his consciousness not on his flesh—calling his name in a strange, twisted speech not meant for mortal throats. Then it was gone, faster than the blink of an eye. Replaced by the distant cracking deep in the forest behind him, reminded him once more of the unusual presence that had followed him since leaving the hollow. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to mean him harm—it seemed curious. Ember thought, feeling somewhat reassured.

  He exhaled turning back to the entrance of the mine that loomed ahead. He would wait, fade into the darkness hidden like the creature at his back, let the night peel him into nothing, brushing the edges of their flickering flames.

  He listened again on the wind but nothing. “It’s the only way,” he told the silence. The silence agreed.

  *  *  *

  Later that night, once the guards had started drinking, Ember slipped out from behind the thicket. Keeping low, he and used the cover of darkness to circle the camp, making sure to stay just inside the tree line. The scent of damp earth, pine and campfire smoke filled his lungs as he crept forward, each step carefully placed on the moss-covered ground muffling his feet. The process was painstakingly slow, his muscles burned with the effort of controlled movements, but he forced himself to remain patient. The last thing he need was six startled, drunken guards scrambling for their weapons because he had clumsily snapped a twig.

  The firelight flickered across the clearing, as a new piece of timber caught light, casting long shadows across the uneven ground. Ember froze, pressing himself against the rough bark of a tree as he watched the group. The soldier’s laughter rose and fell, their voices thick with merry banter, but their weapons remained rested unneeded. He sighed with relief. That was too close, he thought, he would of sworn he saw the brief glow of firelight flash across his pale forearm.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Eventually, he reached a position far enough around the clearing to make his approach without being seen the moment he broke the tree line. He looked out, the entrance to the mine loomed ahead, dark and silent, waiting, filled with answers.

  Getting down onto his knees, he crawled along the floor, the damp earth clinging to his hands and seeping not the fabric of his clothing. Dirt and dust covered his skin as he moved, each shift pressing grit into his raw palms. He stopped behind a pile rock, just a stone’s throw from the guards, his breath rapid as he steadied himself. He was going to have to be very careful, he thought, this would require patience—and no small amount of luck.

  He waited, ears attuning to the drunken hum of conversation. Laughter rippled through the clearing, the sudden outbursts startling him as he crept around the pile, the soft scrape of his clothes muffled by the continuous murmur as he internally praised the benefits of alcohol.

  The rough stone continued to bite into his hands and knees, each jagged edge a fresh reminder of the discomfort against his cold, chafed skin. Sticking to the shadows as best he could, he shimmied closer to the mouth of the mine, using whatever cover he found. At times, he had to dart quickly across open spaces, then freezing in place, pausing, listening as his heart hammered. No cry of warning came and slowly he made painstakingly, made his way forward.

  And then, after what felt like an eternity, he was slipped into the gaping gullet of the mine, swallowed by the eerie gloom that stretched endlessly before him.

  The lingering flicker of distant flames danced within the darkness, their glow faint but enough to cast shifting shadows across the rocky terrain. A soft, eerie luminescence from patches of algae clung to the stone, offering just enough light to reveal the entrance to the mine. A vast, cavernous opening tearing into the earth. The natural chamber was huge, its jagged walls shaped by time and the relentless footsteps of miners carved a smooth path down into the depths.

  Moving with careful steps, he kept off the obvious trail, weaving through the scattered boulders instead. If someone emerged from below, he would rather not be caught in plain sight. The rocks provided cover, their looming shapes blending with the darkness, making him just another shadow in the night.

  Crack.

  The noise echoed through the cave, reverberating against the stone and out into the clearing. He heard the startled shouts and the clatter of swords behind him, and he looked down to see a large brittle pickaxe lying on the floor, shaft broken, his foot separating the two pieces. Two hard years of instinct told him to throw his body to the cold hard floor and he crawled behind a rotten wheelbarrow. He curled up, making himself as small as possible, preying the guards wouldn’t find him.

  His heart throbbed, a bitter taste of vomit forming in his mouth. “Death” that’s what Luriana has said, “This road leads to death.” And now he was going to die, before he got any answers, why didn’t he listen? Forcing himself not to cry he glanced over the top of the wheelbarrow and saw two guards their shadows outlined by a burning lamp as they stood a couple of feet inside the mouth of the cave, their swords drawn. Ember ducked back down quickly listening intently frozen like a cat stalked shrew.

  “They are not due back for a few hours yet are they Drem?” One of guards said aloud with a husky voice.

  Ember heard the rattle of an oil lamp, and the light extended further into the cave, just licking the edges of the wheelbarrow which he cowered behind.

  “Nah,” the other guard replied to his companion, voice much younger.

  “Just a fallin’ piece of rock maybe? I don’t see nuthin”

  “I’m going in to take a look around” The youth’s voice was shaky, and Ember heard the shuffle of unconfident feet. “Umm, I guess your right boss, no need, probably just bats or somthin”

  The older guard bellowed, his laughter echoing through the empty cave, “I don’t blame you lad, their ain’t all the gold in the land that would pay me to go in those caves. Were paid to keep people in, and I’ve seen nobody come out, have you Drem?”

  “Not one boss, no” the youth said clearly relieved.

  “Right then let’s get back to our ale”

  Ember heard the stomping of feet leaving the cave entrance and the clatter of weapons being put in their sheaths and stools being re arranged around the fire. Once the talk and laughter had resumed Ember let out a relieved breath, long and steady.

  Ember crawled out from behind the broken wheelbarrow his whole body shaking with nervous anxiety.

  That was too close, he thought, I must be deranged to listen to that creature. Was Fern really down here?

  Making his way slowly towards the end of the cave he gradually got to his feet and stooped over keeping his form low in the shadows.

  Even if he wanted to go back now, he couldn’t, those guards would be keeping an eye on the entrance for sure.

  “Forwards then.” he said to himself with a faint but determined whisper.

  He navigated his way over shale and angular sharp rocks making sure to avoid disturbing anything that may be loose. It was a slow a tricky process as the floor began to slowly angle down steeper and steeper. His arms and legs burnt with from the meticulous effort, sloth-like in its form.

  Finally, many muscle numbing minutes later he came down to a small chamber at the bottom of the cave. It was a natural formation, with long stalactites that hung down threatening to penetrate the pool of water which shimmered like a mirror in the dim iredesnt light. It gave the chamber the appearance of being much larger that it was, and Ember dropped his feet into the water. The only way across it seemed.

  To his surprise, the water was only a couple inches deep, but it was icy cold, and he did not want to linger. Making his way across the pool towards the only obvious route, a large fissure in the rock.

  As Ember edged his way closer, checking his footing with each step the fissure loomed into clear picture in front of him. What he had thought was a natural, nature made break in the rock was a lightning shaped crack in the rock, dark and blighted. It was if a giant had taken a flaming mallet and hammered at the rock face with explosive force, splitting it open like a gaping wound.

  To his surprise, he could see the faint gilded etchings of an ancient door framing the seared rock, the intricate design traced outline of a forgotten door that existed before this desecration.

  Stepping out of the water he approached the broken doorway and lingered for a moment at the entrance intending to survey what lay beyond. He was just about to break threshold when a warm heat wafted through the through. The rancid smell of stale egg hit him, and a bitter salty taste settled on his tongue, forcing his mouth shut.

  Pushing the smell and taste from his mind he proceeded cautiously.

  The entrance was made from six feet of solid rock and Ember struggled to imagine what could have possibly had the force to break such a door as he slipped through to the other side.

  Once through, what lay before him caught his breath.

  He had arrived the centre of a dimly lit chamber, illuminated by two lanterns set in massive braziers that hung from silver chains in opposite directions. The chamber was a perfect dome with pure white stone walls, streaked with dark waves which ran through the stone glittering as if the nights sky had been pressed into the rock. Embers eyes traced a dominant streak until they fell upon a huge bronze knee. His gaze rose. What initially he took for columns were in fact six giant legs supporting three statues that huddled over bound in an embrace, arms wrapped, as if holding back the weight of the earth.

  The scale and beauty of the work mesmerised him, his head spinning from the magnitude of the project and Ember couldn’t shake the feeling he had stumbled into an ancient part of the world. He looked back over his shoulder and thought about returning, this is just too much, he thought, I could be back in Ruinstead, back looking for Toby.

  “This way. Your so close.” The whispering hung in the air so faint he wasn’t sure if it was real or a manifestation of his own thoughts.

  Maybe I want to hear them? His own mind reassured him, bolstering his confidence. He looked around again to check he was alone and noticed for the first time all the holes dotted around the chamber like a rabbit’s warren, man-made punctures that broke through the immaculate stone. A warm glow of flickering flames emanated from two tunnels on his right, and he cautiously made his way towards one and peered in.

  The warm stench hit him again as if the very earth was exhaling the foul odour. Also carried by the air he could make out the faint, Tink Tink Tink of distant picks striking stone. Excitement swelled in his chest and pushed forwards further into the bowls of the earth.