《The Mine》


 Chapter 1 - The Descent

    Clang.  Heads jerked as the latch slammed shut on the elevator doors.  Thirteen new miners clung to each other, glancing around with nervous fear.  Except the child, the smallest.  Moriah stared straight ahead without reaction to the noise, staring through the gate bars into the small ante room from where they had just come.


    The elevator jerked, metal on metal screaming in protest as it began the descent into the blackness visible through the deck grating.  Hewn rock walls flashed past, lit by the elevator¡¯s wane lighting.  A disconcerting sway which no elevator ought have knocked passengers into each other, the miners remaining upright simply because they were packed in shoulder to shoulder.  There simply was not any room to fall.  However, the small Moriah made no attempt to catch herself on the legs of the surrounding adults and sat down hard.   One of the adults attempted to catch her, but missed.  The child showed no sign of noticing nor caring.


    The elevator descended in an ever accelerating plummet into the depths of the planet, upending stomachs.  Some miners squealed, some cried out their fear.  Two men threw up, the wind spaying the stomach gunk to befoul the clothing of all.  The miners terror-screams quieted to murmurs as they continued to descend, each casting terrorized glances at the single guard in his light-powered armor standing in a separate space at the elevator controls.  The whine of cables and chattering of the rickety box dimmed in the face of the wind roaring through the floor¡¯s grating.  Moriah stared blankly at the rushing walls through the bars of the elevator walls, unperturbed and silent.


    They descended at break-neck pace for an eternity, as if Hell itself were their destination.  The twelve adult miners kept glancing at the single guard, but none considered attacking him.  The wicked looking Gauss half-rifle would cut them all in half with its thousand rounds per second discharge rate, but even then the light powered armor simply made the man invulnerable to anything they could have done.  But even if he had been weaponless and in casual clothing, they still would not have attacked because it went against the doctrines of their implanted programming.


    ¡°Girl, take my hand,¡± the woman coaxed the unnamed girl, reaching down to help the child up.  Moriah did not respond, did not even flinch at the first words spoken by anyone since before entering the elevator car.  Unable to bend over to reach the girl, the woman shook her head and gave up.


    ¡°No point,¡± the man she clung to said.


    ¡°I know, but it seems wrong not to try somehow.¡±  The child looked no older than six and the woman had tried to befriend her, to protect her since the child had been brought to the complex a couple months previous.  Protection she had managed, if only a bit.  Befriending not so much.


    During those months of training and conditioning for their new lives as slave-miners, Moriah obeyed every order.  Absorbed the data forced into her mind from every magical knowledge-stone the instructors wanted her to learn from.  Resisted no compulsion being implanted by will or deed.  In all this, the small child never acted on her own, rather merely reacted to outside stimulus, the perfect automaton.  The only indication she acknowledged the existence of anyone or anything had been her docile, blank following of instructions.


    Nearly a minute into the descent, the screech of the elevator¡¯s brakes accompanied the staggering pressure of deceleration, pressing the miners brutally against the floor.  The car lurched and the group of miners as one collapsed, their legs giving out all at the same time.  Only the guard remained standing, having braced himself.  He enjoyed this part of the ride most.


    Once the gangly crew extracted themselves from the tangle of arms and legs, the guard pushed them out into the cool, damp tunnel beyond the open door.  Lights ran along the tunnel, the light sinking into stark hewn rock and dirt walls.  The smell of dank, musty earth permeated all.


    A single guard sat at a table a short distance from the elevator.  She wore the same metal colored light-armor as the elevator guard.  ¡°Line up,¡± the seated guard snapped and glared at the new miners as they stumbled into line in front of the table.  She hated in-processing new cattle, and her foul mood clearly came through the sharpness of her command.


    The elevator guard picked Moriah up and tucked her under his arm as the other miners obeyed the seated guard¡¯s command.  Moving to the table, he set the child down roughly.  Moriah stood where he placed her, staring ahead as if nothing had occurred.  The guard stepped up to the table and handed an envelope to the processor.  ¡°This one comes with special instructions.  No gnomes came available, so its going to be the new scrambler, at least until it out grows the position.  Edicted.¡±


    The processor accepted the envelope and opened it, reading as the guard spoke.  The woman grunted.  ¡°Just as well.  Such a small piece of candy would¡¯ve been eaten in a day, and then thrown to the spiders as an offering.¡±  The intake guard stared at the child - Walking Dead, she thought.  Under edict, if anything happened to her, even an accident, the entire mine would be punished - half-rations and double quota the standard punishments for the miners.  However, far more brutal punishments would descend on them because the guards would also be punished with an extended tour in the mines.  None of the guards wanted to stay downside longer than necessary and the only judges in the mine were those self-same temperamental, easily upset guards.  Trial nor lawyer held any place here and the guards would make the miners¡¯ lives true hell because of the hassle.


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    The seated guard upturned the envelope, dropping an edict badge into her hand.  She handed it to the other guard and let him pin it on the girl.  As he did so, the seated woman looked past him into the girl¡¯s lifeless eyes and wondered what had happened to the child to make her like this.  Then she looked away, dismissing the walking-dead from her mind as utterly worthless tripe.  Cattle was cattle when all was said and done, and what happened to them did not concern her as long as her downside shift ended on time.


    The intake guard logged each miner by name and number, and then marched them from the elevator down the tunnel into a small cave.  Another chair sat on a raised platform in the center of the new cave.  This time a gleaming red lit visor in a jet black light-armor glared at the new miners.  The truth was, without the visor¡¯s sinister gleam, the black armor would have been nigh invisible in the dim lighting.


    ¡°Okay boys and girls.  Listen up carefully.¡±  The man¡¯s voice rumbled through the cave, causing the incoming miners to jump.  ¡°I¡¯m only going to explain this stuff once.  If you break a rule down here, you will be punished.  If you do not learn quickly, you will be killed.  Do not hurt another slave so that they cannot meet quota, or you will be required to meet their quota in addition to your own.  Otherwise we don¡¯t care what you do to yourselves.  Just bring in your quota.


    ¡°Now, there are several quotas you will be expected to meet.  First,¡± he raised a fist, ¡°Daily quota.  If you meet it, you get fed.  If you don¡¯t, you will be punished and get half rations for that day.  Second, weekly quota.¡±  He dropped his hand.  ¡°If you meet it, you get one extra ration.  If you fail to meet it, you will be punished and your daily quota for the month will be increased to cover the shortfall.  Third, monthly quota.  If you meet it, you will receive one extra ration and one chit allowing you to fail a quota without punishment.   If you fail to meet it, you will be punished and you¡¯ll be placed on probation.  If you fail to meet daily quota three times in a week, you will be placed on probation.  If you fail to meet weekly quota twice consecutively, you will be placed on probation.¡±


    ¡°When you are on probation, all penalties are doubled.  Get placed on double probation, and you¡¯re not worth the trouble.  You will be sent into the back tunnels where crystal spiders roam free.  You will not be allowed back to the base until you have enough ore to meet your monthly quota.  No one has ever returned.  Becoming a zombie is not a pleasant way to die, I assure you, so meet your quotas.¡±


    The black guard signaled the female guard that had accompanied the new intakes after she finished the in-processing.  She opened a side door none of the miners had noticed up till then.  Ten rough looking men and women in light-grey coveralls filed in and stood along the wall to the left.  As they entered, the red-visored guard continued, ¡°You will be assigned a mentor.  You will be with that mentor for one week to learn the way of things.  Your mentor will be responsible for you and your safety.  You will obey every demand, every request of your mentor.  You belong to them for the next week.  Everything you produce will be credited to your mentor¡¯s quota.¡±


    ¡°After that week, if you ever manage to double your monthly quota, you will be eligible for excess quota credit.  Under that status, you can bank up credit by producing double your quota or better.  Having a big credit in your bank can save you from lean times, so strive hard to get one.  It¡¯s not easy, but it is possible.¡±


    ¡°One last thing.  The guards are not here for your convenience.  We are your gods.  If you endanger one of us, are disrespectful to one of us, if we decide you are ugly or distasteful, you will be punished. Do not address us unless you are asked to, except for emergencies.  But you better damn well be right about it being an emergency.  We don¡¯t care what happens to you, as long as you meet quota.¡±


    The speaker jabbed his finger at Moriah.  ¡°Klorachamol, that one¡¯s the new scrambler.  Take care of her or I¡¯ll have your head.¡±


    A lanky man in black coveralls, possessing deep mahogany skin and long black hair, detached from the shadows, increasing the number of mentors by one.  The predator¡¯s natural gait stalked with panther grace to the dead-eyed girl and stared down at the top of her head, observing the multi-colored paint on silver-moss.  Moriah stared straight ahead.


    Klorachamol frowned.  He fingered the black collar gracing his neck.  He did not like mentoring - too much work.  If he failed to meet quota even once while in charge of the whelp, he would be on probation.  Of course, there were advantages to mentoring too, but several were not reasonably available with a girl this young.


    ¡°Girl, what¡¯s your name,¡± he demanded.  Moriah stared straight ahead showing no acknowledgment.  Several of the other mentors glanced at the pair, but averted their eyes lest the man notice them.  They glanced at the guards, but averted their eyes from that danger as well.


    The man reached out and grabbed the girl by the chin with painful strength, turning her unresisting face upward.  After looking into her eyes for a long moment, his scowled at the black guard for a moment.  The girl had withdrawn deep inside herself.  He could not touch her psyche, except a superficial edifice which allowed her to interact with the outer world enough to stay alive.  ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered and straightened.  One wrong turn and the whelp would shatter into a billion pieces, half disintegrating to vapor.


    Louder, ¡°Damn.  Very well, your name is now Ker.  Come with me, Ker.¡±  He turned and strode from the room, the girl following, her eyes straight forward without even a single glance of curiosity.  Guards and mentors alike relaxed a notch.  If Klorachamol had killed the girl . . . .

 Chapter 2 - First Scramble Annoyance

    Taking his new ward to the supply distribution area, Klorachamol leaned against a wall with arms crossed and eyes hooded as the usually belligerent supply clerk gave the girl three sets of rugged mining coveralls, a pair of boots, a pair of leather gloves and some bedding.  In addition to these, he gave her the standard issue lesion knife for cutting crystal and ore from stone and a pickax for general digging.  Finally, he issued an anti-grav hand cart, which she would use to bring in whatever crystal and ore she managed to collect.


    Next Klorachamol took his small charge to the depot cavern where she would bring her quota for in-processing.  He introduced her to the two clerks on duty.  ¡°Don¡¯t worry about remembering their names,¡± he told her, feeling the effort worthless as a cart full of dirt.  ¡°The guards choose new clerks on a whim.¡±


    In all this, Moriah made no acknowledgment, never flinched nor reacted even once to any outside stimulus.  Klorachamol sighed, reflecting that the following week promised a sample of eternal punishment, no matter how he looked at it.


    ¡°Come with me, Ker.¡±  He led her out of the depot.  They passed through several larger caverns full of scattered ember pits and bed rolls, some of which contained sleeping bodies.  A few of the pits held men and women hunched over glowing coals for warmth, breath fogging in the subterranean chill.  Black coal lay in heaps to fuel the pits.  Boxes and blankets set up as makeshift curtains broke the cavern into sections of semi-private rooms.


    Leading her out of the general living caverns, the man took Moriah to a much smaller cave.  ¡°You¡¯ll sleep here with me for the next week.  After that, you¡¯re on your own kid.  You¡¯ll have to find your own territory.  But for now, put your bedding over there,¡± he indicated a wall, ¡°and change into one of your jumpers.¡±  He stood watching her obey, his expression unreadable.


    Moriah set her two blankets and pillow where he indicated and began to undress, unaware or uncaring of his observation.  Once she had put the jumper on, Klorachamol led her to a second tunnel mouth opening into his living space.  This one lead into the mine tunnel-complex.  ¡°Ker, this leads to the mine proper.  You don¡¯t need to check in or out of the main base here, but turn your daily quota in before deadline.  Don¡¯t ever be late.¡±  He knew the child listened because she obeyed his directives, but she gave no other physical or verbal indication her mental fires were being tended.  ¡°You can arrange to be out in the mines for an extended period of time and waive the daily quotas, and even the weekly, but you have to get permission beforehand.¡±  He frowned at her dead-eyes.  Damnation, what was I thinking, agreeing to this?  Stupid Commander.  Stupid me.  ¡°Come on.¡±  He led the way into the tunnel, activating the lights on his shoulders and forehead.


    ¡°I found a tunnel too small for me, but you¡¯ll fit through such a wormhole nicely.  Let¡¯s hope there¡¯s something down it to make all this worthwhile.¡±  He talked without turning around, leading the way through dark tunnels for nearly an hour before indicating a small opening.  ¡°In there, Ker.  No.  Wait.¡±  He stopped her before she could climb into the hole.  ¡°Better make sure you know how to extract ore.¡±


    Detaching a grey-metal handle from his side, he held out the lesion knife.  ¡°This will cut rock and ore like a good knife through cardboard, but it¡¯s difficult to use.  It¡¯ll wear you down faster than just using the pickax.  You will mostly use it to dig out visible crystal and ore.  It has a crystalline battery core that will operate at low power for nearly a week before needing to be charged.  You getting this?¡±  He glanced away from the girl.  She would not be old enough to have developed any mental geisthud such as telepathy or energy manipulation, even if she had the potential, thus he decided to forgo any explanations of advanced features.  Besides the information was at least touched on during indoctrination.  Once he finished explaining the basics of lesion knife use and what he wanted her to do in the wormhole, he allowed her to enter the narrow passage.


    Moriah just stared at a single point on the far wall during his explanation, nothing indicating she lived except the movement of her chest.  When the stranger finished talking, she climbed into the hole without hesitation, vanishing from view.


    Klorachamol stared at the hole.  What a miserable predicament, he reflected and snorted.  His current bank credit could carry him through the week, even if he failed quota every day miserably.  While it did not make a big difference to him, he hated using it.  There were times when he liked going beyond the boundary to be by himself and he had to at least present a semblance of blending with the other miners.  Of course, he could not go far because of the infernal collar encircling his neck, but he could go far enough to be alone.  Moving to a section of wall a distance from the opening, he started swinging his own pickax, the echoes of metal on stone echoing down the dark passage.


    ****


    Moriah obeyed the stranger.  It did not matter.  Nothing mattered any longer.  Everything she cared about had been destroyed.  Nothing mattered at all.


    Crawling into the little hole, she wondered if she would die now.  She would not mind that.  She did not like being lonely.  She squirmed deeper into the shaft, and deeper still, getting stuck several times and scraping her arms and knees even through the tough coveralls.  Nothing appeared in her head lamps resembling the images implanted in her mind from the data transferred from the learning-stones.  No crystal ore, which could store and manipulate energy and data, and which integrated well with magical construction.  No myth class minerals, metals which made the integration of magical and mundane energies possible, among other things.  Not even any of the lesser valuables, liked platinum and gold.  So she wiggled deeper, sharp protrusions digging into her sides and stomach.  The weight of the planet pressed down, ignored by her numbed mind.


    Moriah did not know how long she crawled.  She lost awareness of how many times blood rushed to her head as the narrow tunnel turned her upside down, or that she wiggled herself free from twisting corners that bent her at awkward angles.


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    Suddenly her arms met no resistance and her upper body hung over empty space.  Below her spread a vast open bubble of space into which her upper torso hung, the bottom of which lay hidden in distant shadow.  The room itself was near spherical, as if the rock had been melted at one time and then solidified with a gas bubble in it, which was indeed one theory for their creation.


    After several long moments of staring where her head light shown, the presence of crystal formations sank into her consciousness.  That man wants those kinds of stones, she thought.  Still, something tugged her memory.  The bubble formation had been addressed by data from the learning stones.  She frowned slightly, which would have amazed Klorachamol since it was something beyond the blank stare.


    She hung her head, trying to remember.  Oh.  She remembered.  These types of spherical caverns should have many connecting tunnels leading to other similar rooms.  Both crystal ore and several of the myth metals could be found in abundance within such complexes, as the conditions which created them attracted or grew those rare resources.  As such, they also attracted the mineral eating crystal spiders more often than not.  The instructions implanted in her mind admonished that ¡°discovery of a new bubble should be treated with extreme caution.¡±  Moriah thought perhaps she was going to die after all.


    However, no spiders came out even though she waited quite a while for them.  Sighing her disappointment, she wondered how she was going to get to the bottom of the bubble.  Since she could not think of a way, Moriah decided she should just extract what she could reach.


    Unholstering her lesion knife, she wiggled out to the point of strained unease, activated the tool and began working.  At first she could only reach seven amber and red crystal formations, but when she cut those free a few more embedded deeper appeared.


    Klorachamol snarled to himself as his pickax bit into the tunnel wall like the clicking of a slow clock.  The brat had been gone for nearly four hours.  Perhaps he should have started her on something more simple, but he had found this particular hole nearly two years ago and allowed his own curiosity to get the better of him.  If he had to call in one of the other two scramblers to rescue the girl, he would lose the opportunity to exploit its possibilities.


    ¡°Damn.  I wish I knew . . . Damn and damn again.  Next time we tie a rope to her neck or something!¡±  He looked at the debris of stone freed by his pickaxe.  He knew that he would not find any ore from this particular rock formation, which rarely produced anything worth the effort, but he could not just sit still waiting.


    Finally he stuck his head into the hole and shouted, ¡°Ker, GET YOUR TINY POSTERIOR OUT HERE!¡±  No answer.  Not that he had been expecting one.  He knew that he dared not wait much longer.  If injured, she would need help sooner than later.  Still, he did not know how far back this worm hole went or if it ever widened enough to turn around.  If the child had to back all the way out it could take a long time.


    Another hour passed and the Klorachamol¡¯s pickaxed alcove grew into a tunnel of its own.  ¡°I¡¯m going to have to go get help.¡±  He leaned against the wall on the other side of the tunnel from the small opening, staring at it hard.  His eyes narrowed.  Shutting his eyes, he turned his lights off.  After a long moment, he opened his eyes.  He could see the hole outlined by light from within.  The girl must have turned around and was returning.  Next time she gets a time limit, dammit.  He supposed she had gotten stuck or something.  He hoped she would not freeze up the next time she had to enter a hole.  That would go bad for her.


    He turned his light back on, leaned against the wall opposite the hole with arms crossed, and waited.


    With a small grunt, Moriah pushed her overfull bag out of the hole.  It crunched to the ground and she wiggled so her arms and head emerged.  Klorachamol grabbed her under the armpits and wrenched her free.  His glare turned to a grimace in the face of Moriah¡¯s scraped and bruised appearance.  Her coveralls already had bloody rips in them.  An open wound lacerated her cheek.  For all that, her eyes remained unfocused and he could detect no tearing in her eyes.


    ¡°So, what kind of rocks did you get?¡± he demanded.  Setting the girl down, the man knelt to investigate.  He blinked and smiled for the first time as he upended the sack, spilling the jagged crystal formations to the dirt floor.  He already knew that the sack contained enough crystal to meet his quota for the entire week and then some.  He fingered the spiked crystals and then sat back and regarded the girl.  ¡°What did you find in there, Ker?¡±


    Moriah did not respond.  She did not care what he did or what he wanted.  What was the point in it all, anyway?  She dropped to a squatting position and wrapped her arms around her knees, ignoring the man.  She was not even sure she liked him.


    Shaking his head, Klorachamol divided the loot with sure hands.  He took four bags and divided the contents evenly between them.  He then stuffed three of the bags into the hole for later use and dropped the last into Moriah¡¯s cart.  ¡°You did good today, Ker.  Now, stand up and come with me.¡±  He pushed the cart down the tunnel.  Moriah followed, silent as death.


    Klorachamol had to glance behind him once in a while to ensure she did not get lost.  He noted her movements with professional interest.  She walked well and made little noise.  Judging by what he saw, he guessed it an untrained gait.  She might have the potential to be very useful to him, but only time would tell the truth.


    He led Moriah to one of his regular claims and the two of them began digging.  He watched her as he swung his pickax in powerful, even strokes.  At first she swung her smaller pickax in the worst possible way.  However, shortly after starting, she began modifying her strokes, mimicking him.


    Over the next few hours, Moriah had to rest many times, but Klorachamol never stopped swinging even once.  He did not even stop to pick up the stones he dislodged.  The crash of metal on rock took on a steady, uniform rhythm, each strike precise in time, power and target.


    Moriah continued until she could no longer hold the pickax in bloody hands, open blisters and leaden arms overcoming her small ability.  Still the man did not stop.  Deciding she could not stop if he did not, she gathered the piled debris, separating them by categories laid into her mind by her indoctrination.  The man never paused as she worked amidst flying debris.  Several times he might have hit her as she worked, but missed by inches.  She never flinched.


    Silence fell over the tunnel, Klorachamol finally stopping.  Moriah lay asleep a short distance away and the man glowered at her kitten-curled body.  He should contact the commander and tell him no deal.  He had said nothing about this kind of creature.


    Turning from the girl, he inspected the five separate piles Moriah had made.  The largest lay heaped long against the far wall of the tunnel, spread to keep a path open.  Four smaller piles surrounded the cart, each containing some measure of valuable minerals.  Of these four, two contained crystal, one of lighter colors, the other darker.  The remaining two contained metal ores.  The smallest of these contained myth class ores.  He looked again at the girl and allowed himself a brief, very small smile.  She would do after all.

 Chapter 3 - Of Elves, Dwarves & Lovers

    Klorachamol did a quick estimate and determined that he had managed to more than double his own quota for the day just on his own. With the portion of Ker¡¯s take added, he nearly quadrupled it. Not a good thing. Bringing in too much tended to raise one¡¯s quota, no matter the reason, except a Mother Lode of course.


    Dividing his ore in half and reducing Ker¡¯s contribution by half again, he stashed the remaining treasure. He wanted to add to his bank, but avoid any risk of having his quota upped at the end of mentoring the scrambler.


    Picking the child up and setting her on top of the box, he pushed it back to the camp. Just before entering the common area, he woke her and made her push the cart herself. He thought she might be grumpy upon awakening, like any normal child, but was disappointed. She behaved no different than before.


    ¡°Working the little whelp hard on the first day, are you Mr. Klorachamol?¡± the most recent depot lackey, Jordi, joked. He dared not aggravate the deadly man, but the girl¡¯s battered condition could not be ignored. Not that he really cared, he just thought it more risky ignoring the girl¡¯s condition. He did not want the guards taking notice of him.


    ¡°She did good,¡± came the only reply.


    Jordi hesitated, but fear of Klorachamol overrode fear of the guards. ¡°Put your quota on the counter.¡± Several moments passed and then Moriah obeyed, neither averting her eyes or looking at the man. Jordi opened the sack. He glanced upwards at Klorachamol and then back into the sack. ¡°You¡¯re exceeding quota by a lot, Klorachamol,¡± he warned, keeping his voice low. He glanced around, checking for guards. ¡°You better be careful about this in the future. I¡¯ll divide this up and apply half to tomorrow¡¯s quota, but I won¡¯t do it again.¡±


    Klorachamol showed no reaction to the man¡¯s aid, merely nodding and escorting Ker to the mess line. The place was deserted and they secured their rations without trouble or wait. Because he was on mentor status and met double quota, they both received double portions.


    Returning to the smaller sleeping area through the larger one, Moriah might have noticed a number of bodies lying on the ground with blankets pulled over them and several fire pits burning, billowing black smoke. She might have noticed, but she did not look around, her eyes steadfast forward and void of curiosity.


    Coming into his own little domain, the man sighed to himself as he noted the intruders in his space. Still, he did not even pause before passing through the short tunnel separating it from the main living caverns. There were four of them waiting for him.


    ¡°So, is this your ward?¡± a tall man with a harsh face and wide lips said. ¡°Heard rumor it was a child whelp under edict. So, are you going to share?¡±


    The dark man let out another weary sigh. ¡°Roller, you¡¯re in my space. Leave.¡±


    ¡°Or what? You gonna kill me? Maybe break a bone or two?¡± He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re not above the rules, my man.¡±


    ¡°The brat¡¯s under edict. If I kill you because you¡¯re a threat to her, there will be no penalty.¡± Klorachamol¡¯s feral smile grew. ¡°I believe your current actions are a threat.¡±


    Roller¡¯s laughter cut off and he held his hands up, ¡°Whoa there, man. I¡¯m not threatening the girl. You got me all wrong.¡±


    Klorachamol just smiled at him and walked forward. Roller¡¯s associates deserted him, fleeing into the main room. Roller tried to run too, but died before he could complete his first stride, his back broken in three places, head turned looking a little too far over his left shoulder, all happening with a single cracking sound. Klorachamol turned to look at Moriah. A blank stare with no reaction. He snorted.


    ¡°Go spread out your blankets. Lay on top of one and cover with one.¡± The child walked a straight line to her bedding, stepping over Roller¡¯s legs.


    Several minutes later one of the guards appeared in the entrance of the cave. ¡°What happened?¡± he demanded, toeing the dead body.


    ¡°He threatened harm to the Edict. I merely protected her.¡± Klorachamol spoke offhand, as if it did not matter that the guard had come. Which it didn¡¯t. If it came down to it, he could kill the guard too.


    The guard hesitated. His briefing had covered Klorachamol. The short of it, don¡¯t mess with him. Roller had been a good producer, but a decided trouble maker. No one would shed tears over his death on either side of the isle, guards or miners. ¡°Very well.¡± He turned and left. A minute later two miners came into the cave and carried Roller away.


    ¡°Taking full advantage of the situation, I see.¡± The amused voice rolled from the back tunnel, filling the small cave, but not escaping it.


    Klorachamol stiffened. The damned elf. Forcing himself to relax, he shrugged, ¡°I didn¡¯t seek out the confrontation, Klierallan.¡±


    ¡°Of course not. The human is well below your notice. But why become a mentor? You have no need of it.¡± The voice carried smooth. The elf was probing. He too wore one of the special collars.


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    Klorachamol shrugged. ¡°The commander made the request personally. He only has two scramblers right now and it¡¯s affecting his production enough to draw notice.¡± The assassin laughed sardonically. ¡°He made some interesting concessions if I would protect this third runt.¡± Klorachamol was not above lying, but lying to the elf held a level of danger. Since Klierallan could find out the truth and it did not matter if he knew, Klorachamol did not care to press the matter. Still, he had no intention of going into details.


    The elf did not seem to care about the details. ¡°And it has been a profitable day, has it not? Five times quota and you were out such a short time. Amazing.¡± The elf enjoyed this kind of give and take. Few in the mines were worth the effort for conversation, but all those living in Klorachamol¡¯s small oasis held interest of one sort or another.


    ¡°We got lucky.¡± Klorachamol replied, gazing at Klierallan trying to fathom his intent. He considered killing the creature, but doubted his success. He would have to wait a while longer.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Lucky.¡± Klierallan moved into the light of the cavern and approached the sleeping form. The child truly slept, which amused the elf for some unknown reason. Bending down, he touched her cheek and forehead, ignoring the hostility of the assassin. They both knew who would win under the present restraints. ¡°She has been wounded deeply in her mind. She is one with death already. Tell me, my dear assassin Klorachamol, can you protect her from herself?¡±


    The assassin smoothed his expression both in face and body. He did not answer. He hated the black one with a true passion that he did not fully understand himself. He was by no means one who could claim even passing alignment with Light, but he supposed some things were so vile that even evil despises them. ¡°What do you want, Demon-Pact?¡± He spoke softly, ready to attack despite the risk.


    Klierallan stood and waved his hand by way of clearing the tension. ¡°Relax, Shadow. I¡¯m not going to do anything. This one has a great potential. I will not waste her with haste. I have waited a long time for a chance to escape.¡± He turned and looked at the man and smiled. ¡°We must both wait and see which way she jumps before we may act, lest we push her over the edge.¡±


    Klorachamol snarled at the empty space where the black elf had been a moment ago. Not good. While he himself wanted to escape, he had no desire to allow that creature loose on the universe again.


    ¡°Ho,¡± a bellow sounded from the back tunnel and two gnarly dwarves clomped into the cave. ¡°To Klorachamol we send greetings. Back early you are, earlier than we. Did the mentor already slay the ward?¡± Jenjen Granite-White greeted his friend in his boisterous manner. He was rather fond of the assassin, but didn¡¯t really understand the death master.


    Klorachamol jerked his hand at the sleeping form. ¡°Asleep, oh wise basher of pebbles.¡±


    ¡°Ho ho ho!¡± the gnarly man laughed off the insult. ¡°Asleep alive? Asleep dead?¡±


    ¡°Alive. Have you already been to the depot?¡±


    ¡°But of course, Death Master. Quota made double each. They threaten, but back away like a rock mite before the hammer,¡± Jenjen chuckled, walking over to look at the child¡¯s face.


    Klorachamol snorted his amusement. Every time the gnarly dwarves doubled their quota, the depot threatened to bump their quota level. They actually did it once, but the dwarves both had enough credit stored in their banks so they did not need to make quota for a long time. One week into the standoff, the depot had backed down. It seemed between the two of them, the dwarves supplied nearly an eighth the total volume on any given day. With them not contributing, the depot¡¯s own quota did not get met. That had threatened the guards¡¯ rotation out of the mines. No one wanted to risk getting the guards angry, well except his acquaintances.


    ¡°The girl is harmed.¡± The dwarf rumbled, looking down at the child¡¯s bloody face.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be okay. I sent her on a scramble, that¡¯s all. She is a scrambler, after all.¡±


    ¡°The doctor must not see, lest she to the infirmary be sent.¡± Corko, the second dwarf rumbled. Smaller and less boisterous than his cousin, he also had a softer heart.


    ¡°Not a concern. Not even the doctor would dare harm an Edict placed by the Commander. He might lose his little workshop.¡± Klorachamol dismissed the concern from discussion.


    ¡°Klorachamol, you¡¯re back early today.¡± A lithe, black-haired woman flew into the cave from the direction of the main living complex. She had her shirt undone to her belly and pulled back to reveal an ample portion of her breasts. She liked teasing the boys, hoping in forlorn hope that one of them would try to do something stupid so she could hurt them. She moved with the supple movements of a panther. Anyone who knew her would say she had the deadly claws to accompany her movements.


    ¡°Jenna. I see you¡¯ve been picking on the boys again.¡± He accepted her head long flight into his arms and kissed her deep and long. ¡°You¡¯ve been out for several days, woman.¡± He lifted her and they fell to his bed, he on top of her.


    ¡°Just having some fun, lover,¡± she wrapped her legs around him.


    After some time had passed, she glanced at the new blanket. ¡°Your ward? I heard rumors. The Commander must have been desperate to agree to your terms.¡± She laughed. ¡°So, is it a boy or girl?¡±


    ¡°Girl.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Now that¡¯ll be interesting,¡± she purred.


    ¡°Leave her alone. She¡¯s under full Edict and she¡¯s fragile. Even the elf restrained himself.¡±


    Jenna stiffened at mention of the elf. ¡°He was here?¡±


    ¡°Came for a short visit just before the cousins returned.¡±


    ¡°It is that the blackest elf has shown interest in the child?¡± Jenjen said, rising from where he had been sitting, his jovial mask gone.


    ¡°Apparently. He thinks she might help him escape.¡±


    ¡°Die she must,¡± the dwarf declared and pulled out his pickax, advancing on the girl.


    ¡°Hold on, Jenjen! You cannot just murder an Edict! Even you¡¯ll be punished,¡± Jenna said, sitting up naked.


    ¡°The blackest elf must not leave this place,¡± but the gnarly man paused.


    Corko spoke a spat of gnarly, Jenjen replying in an angry voice. The two lovers glanced at each other, concerned. They had never heard either of the dwarves show any serious emotion. Even their joviality was an obvious cloak for depths unfathomed.


    The exchange lasted for several minutes, but finally Jenjen turned away from the girl and stalked from the cave. ¡°He will forebear, for the child is innocent. We would not be what we detest. What this child should be, we will wait and see.¡± Corko moved to his bedding and settled in for the night, unaware he echoed the elf¡¯s conclusion.


    ¡°Okay, that was rather scary,¡± Jenna chuckled running her hand through her hair. ¡°I see that your ward is going to make this place rather interesting if she can get the steadfast cousins riled while she but sleeps.¡± She sighed happily, laying back down next to her lover.

 Chapter 4 - Mother Lode

    Moriah woke to stare up at the shadowed stones of her new home. The musty smell of deep earth filled her mind with brown darkness and the weight of a planet pressed in upon her from all sides. Somewhere, a cacophony of snoring greeted her.


    She had already mined crystal ore. She had a mentor whom she had to obey absolutely, though she did not know if she liked him. She wondered how long until she died. She hoped it would not be much longer.


    Sitting up, her petite, butched head turned this way and that, the unique silver moss of hair covering her head catching the overhead light from the bulb dangling by its power cord. The light from that single source cast long shadows on the ceiling and floor and made deeper shadows of the cave¡¯s edges. A lump lay where she thought her mentor slept. Two other rather large lumps lay under blankets off to her right indicating other inhabitants. She could not tell where the snoring came from exactly, but thought the two larger lumps the culprits. Curiosity slipped from deadened thoughts, but she let it die unfulfilled. She did not care. It did not matter.


    Moriah rose, her blanket falling to the ground, the earthy chill of the cave assaulting her through the sleep-sweat dampened coveralls. She walked toward the tunnel which separated her cave from the main caverns, wondering if the toilet lay in that direction.


    ¡°Stop right there, Ker.¡± Klorachamol commanded from where he lay. Two heads rose from under his blanket, a beautiful woman¡¯s head, hair blazing the color of fire and eyes practically glowing their greenness beside Klorachomol¡¯s jet black hair and eyes. Moriah stopped. ¡°Don¡¯t go anywhere without me present while I¡¯m your mentor. There are too many who would do bad things to you.¡± Moriah turned and looked at him with those same dead, emotionless eyes. After a long pause, the assassin snorted and stood, not bothering to cover himself. Dressing, he took her to the bathroom, which was where he assumed she had been heading. He entered into the stall with her.


    Returning to the cave, Jenna greeted him by flinging herself into his arms, though both she and the dwarves were fully dressed by then. For the briefest of moments, something like life entered the girl¡¯s eyes when she saw the dwarves, but the fire sputtered out before it could ignite and her gaze slid from them as from everything else.


    Corko stepped up to her and greeted her formally, bowing in the dwarven manner, half curtsy, half bow, head lowered, fist to forehead. Moriah just stared through him, not responding. Turning to Klorachamol, Corko asked, ¡°Is she daft?¡±


    Klorachamol shook his head and shrugged, his arms still wrapped around Jenna. His answer held resignation and disgust. ¡°Don¡¯t know. She obeys instructions but she doesn¡¯t react to anything. The elf said she had been wounded in some manner. He wouldn¡¯t, or couldn¡¯t, do anything to her.¡±


    ¡°Is that one capable of speaking the truth?¡± Jenjen demanded from behind crossed arms, his glower directed at the human girl-child. Moriah remained seemingly unaware.


    ¡°If it suites him, but he did hold back from her . . . .¡± Klorachamol said.


    ¡°Would you please stop talking as if she wasn¡¯t here? She can still hear,¡± Jenna growled, her sharp words soft and full of death. She broke from Klorachamol¡¯s arms and approached the child. ¡°So, what¡¯s your name dear?¡± She smiled genuine warmth, which belied her angry words to the men.


    Moriah stared through her as if she did not exist.


    Straightening, she eyed the child with a severe, cold gaze, crossing her arms. ¡°She¡¯s not going to live long. She¡¯s already embraced death.¡±


    ¡°You all keep repeating the elf,¡± Klorachamol grunted. ¡°Well, we shall see what a little work does for her. Would you like to come with?¡± He smiled at his woman. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to do while she¡¯s scrambling.¡± She smiled wide in answer and gathered up their bed rolls.


    ¡°Accompany you, we also shall,¡± Corko said in his soft way. But for all its softness in sound, it made granite sponge, his eyes boring into his cousin.


    ¡°The more the merrier!¡± Jenna laughed.


    They moved toward the back tunnel. Moriah followed, but turned aside at the last moment, picking up a length of rope and putting it into her box.


    ¡°Good thinking Ker. I¡¯m glad you can take some initiative,¡± Klorachamol snorted. ¡°I had forgotten about that.¡± He gathered several other lengths. ¡°I don¡¯t know how far you went yesterday, but these are a thousand feet each, so we should be set.¡± He put the coils into the box and then they all left.


    Silence reigned during the trek to the small hole. Upon arriving, Klorachamol secured a rope to Moriah¡¯s waist. She kept her own length, putting it into her bag. Finally she stood in front of the tiny opening, prepared to enter.


    ¡°Hey, why do you need the extra rope, munchkin?¡± Jenna asked, poking at the bag while squatting next to the child. The girl turned and looked at her for a long time, never saying anything. Eventually Klorachamol shooed her into the hole. Once she was gone, Jenna commented while running a hand through her hair. ¡°That is one strange kid. She gives me the willies.¡±


    ¡°Ho ho ho!¡± Both dwarves roared their amusement and even Klorachamol allowed a smile. ¡°Tis a marvel of creation, the Ker who asserts willies upon Jenna! Ho ho ho!¡± Jenjen bellowed.


    ¡°Tis a truth,¡± commented Corko. Even his laughter was quiet, compared to his cousin. He relaxed at his cousin¡¯s easing tension. If Jenjen had truly decided to kill the child, none of them could have prevented it.


    ¡°Jenna, I did not think anyone could unnerve you,¡± Klorachamol smirked at her.


    ¡°She¡¯s not natural,¡± the woman complained, flipping her red head away from the men. ¡°It¡¯s like having a dead person walking around. Even the elf¡¯s less disturbing. At least I understand his evil, however vile it is.¡±


    ¡°This coming from the dear Jenna. I am perplexed.¡± The silken voice seemed to come from all directions and then a shadow detached itself from the rest of the shadows. The tall elf smiled a charming smile, his white hair framing his white skin. The smile chilled because all four knew what kind of person lay behind the ever so natural seeming expression. ¡°You have sent her into this hole again. You are as cold as they come, Klorachamol.¡± He laughed in amusement, his words perfectly spaced and precise. ¡°And you condemn me?¡±


    ¡°Jenna and Klorachamol, neither seek the bondage-destruction of Kormdon, elf!¡± Jenjen snarled, tensed to attack though he remained still. Without proper weapons, the elf would either defeat him or escape again.


    ¡°So, you would say that there are degrees of this thing you label me - Evil. How interesting.¡± Klierallan laughed out loud, the more condemning because it sounded so true, like real amusement and not ridicule. He cocked his head slightly to the left. ¡°Very well. I can accept that and even understand why you despise me.¡± He shrugged, his hands open and palm up. ¡°It does not matter. Just be aware. I am watching Ker. Always. I will not allow you to harm her as she is the most interesting potential to enter this mine since you yourselves came.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what¡¯s in this tunnel?¡± Jenna asked, her curiosity overriding her caution.


    ¡°I do not,¡± the elf inclined his head. ¡°However, she has survived it once, she should do so again.¡±


    ¡°Why does she want to die?¡± Jenna moved, imposing Klorachamol between herself and the elf even as she asked. Nervous as always around the Black One, her curiosity continued to force the questions from her lips.


    ¡°I do not know. Her mind is closed to me and I will not force the issue, at this time.¡± He smiled his real amusement and delight. ¡°You¡¯re full of questions today, dear Jenna. How delightful.¡± He leaned against a wall of the tunnel.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Klorachamol demanded.


    ¡°I am curious what this Ker will bring out this time. I find it fascinating that her first day in the mines her production is more than our good Klorachamol and on a par with the good dwarves.¡± He smiled at the assassin. Silence fell and was not broken again until Ker returned. A quarter the way through its length, the rope tied to Moriah¡¯s waist stopped spooling.


    Moriah crawled through the tunnel as she had the day before, though the weight of the trailing rope made it more difficult to advance. At a certain point she simply untied it from her waist and left it behind. Coming to the bubble, she looked into it to see if anything had moved in since the previous day. Disappointed, she tied off her rope and climbed to the bottom of the bowl. She began cutting crystal stones free from their stone encasing. When she had the bag almost too heavy to lift, she tied the end of the rope to it, rested and then climbed up the rope. She had climbed ropes like this for over a year before everything ended, training herself in secret lest her mother find out. Once she reached the top, she hauled the bag up and began working her way back through the tunnel.


    They had waited for nearly four hours in tense silence when noise from the tunnel became discernible, first by the dwarves, then the elf and finally the two humans. Twenty minutes later, the bag hove into view. Klorachamol pulled it out and then helped Moriah out more gently than he had the first time.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°There is crystal ore,¡± Jenjen declared, looking at the bag.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± stated Corko, nodding.


    Klorachamol already suspected what the bag contained, but dumped it out to look anyway. Crystals formations of almost every color spilled out. Jenna whistled and even the elf reacted, though only for an instant.


    ¡°The mother has spoken. Ker has heard,¡± intoned Corko, solemn as he fingered through the stones.


    Turning to Moriah to demand what kind of formation she had discovered, Klorachamol faced absence. Ker was gone, along with the other bags they had brought. ¡°Ker! Get back here this instant!¡± Klorachamol stuck his head into the hole and yelled his fury. He glared at the hole and waited. And waited. And let out a curse.


    ¡°Ho ho ho! Ker has gone for more. She hears the song of the Mother, but not the beat of the Father,¡± Jenjen bellowed, thumping his massive belly. ¡°Declaration of Mother Load shall come forth. The bank of Klorachamol shall overflow.¡± The dwarf roared his laughter, the sound echoing against rock walls.


    ¡°It would seem you have been highly compensated even beyond the commander¡¯s concessions,¡± Klierallan agreed, smiling in growing amusement at the dwarves. They did not like that he agreed with them. ¡°However, Ker seeks death. Those things that others fear or avoid, she seeks out. Keeping her safe from herself will be much more difficult in the coming week than protecting her from the idiots that inhabit this place.¡±


    ¡°Explain elf,¡± Jenna demanded, peeking from the far side of Klorachamol like a shy child.


    ¡°It is simple. Whatever has wounded her has made her suicidal. If I am reading her correctly, she will not actually kill herself as that is against her essence. However, she will not flee from that which might kill her, but step up to it boldly. She is consumed by foolishness, not courage, though some confuse the two.¡±


    ¡°You would lecture on courage, Demon-Pact?¡± Jenjen demanded, nostrils flaring and imaginary steam all but visible in reality.


    The elf did not reply, simply looking at the dwarf until the gnarly man turned away red faced. ¡°Gnarly lord, heed yourself, lest you yourself fall. Is there fault with my statement?¡± Klierallan waited, forcing Jenjen to reply.


    ¡°Not.¡±


    ¡°Do not fall prey to judging right and wrong by the messenger, is that not the more noble course?¡± He laughed easily. ¡°Ker is looking for a way to die. The coming time will be touch and go. If she survives, she may turn either way.¡± He smiled at the glares.


    Time passed. Klorachamol picked up his pickaxe and began swinging it against the tunnel wall a distance from the hole Ker had entered. Every swing landed with its exact precision. Every impact contained the exact force he chose to issue. Eventually Jenna joined him. To their surprise, the elf also joined in the exercise. The dwarves remained at the hole, watching with infinite patience.


    Many hours later, the hole issued noise again. An hour later a bag hove into view and Jenjen grabbed it. Pulling it out, a second bag was revealed. Corko grabbed this one. Moriah¡¯s grimy face appeared. Klorachamol grabbed her and yanked her from the hole with disregard to sharp rocks and obstructions.


    Shaking her, he raged in a tight, controlled voice. ¡°Do not disobey me ever again, Ker. When I tell you to come back, you obey immediately! Do you understand?¡±


    The pain from her abrasions stung in the far distance of Moriah¡¯s mind, but she accepted that as her punishment for still living. Moriah looked at her mentor with her dead eyes, not responding. Raising her hand, she pointed at the hole. Another bag lay just visible. Jenjen grasped the rope attached to it and pulled it, two more bags coming out after it. Klorachamol set the child down as the dwarves dumped the bags out and silence settled over the group.


    ¡°What did she find?¡± Jenna asked, awe softening her words, ¡°an abandoned spider nest?¡±


    ¡°This is not so,¡± Corko answered. ¡°The stone speaks not of the gatherers.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± the elf agreed, fingering a milky white stone. ¡°She probably found a bubble.¡± He looked inquiringly at the dwarves, amused at their discomfort.


    ¡°It is probable,¡± Jenjen conceded and the elf¡¯s smile increased marginally at the forced agreement.


    ¡°You should declare Mother Load,¡± the elf advised. ¡°It would be risky to hide this for long, especially since in one week you will not have control over the child.¡±


    ¡°Ker should get credit for it,¡± Klorachamol said firmly, looking away from the elf. ¡°I have no need for this. My quota is superfluous. It does not matter if I meet it or not.¡±


    ¡°Klorachamol, as much as I hate to agree with that one...,¡± Jenna sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re really interested in Ker¡¯s well-being (that¡¯s so sweet, by the way),¡± she grinned at him and leaned onto his arm, batting her eyes playfully. ¡°Still, you won¡¯t be helping her at all by holding back right now. Counterproductive. You found this hole and sent her down it. It¡¯s your claim right now and you¡¯ll get credit for it. Ker will not be penalized. But if she were to start bringing even a few of these stone in every day, she would be marked.¡±


    ¡°This is truth,¡± Corko intoned. He was more comfortable agreeing with Jenna, even if she was agreeing with the elf. ¡°The guards will also protect the site and none shall be able to lay claim.¡±


    Klorachamol nodded reluctant agreement. ¡°Very well.¡± He turned to Ker and found her curled up on the stone floor under the hole, fast asleep. Shaking his head, he began gathering the stones back into the bags. The dwarves and Jenna helped. The elf had disappeared again.


    Once again Klorachamol woke Moriah just before entering the depot and made her push the cart up to the counter. There were others in line this time. Waiting their turn, Moriah¡¯s eyes never twitched to acknowledge anyone, their presence registering only as vague shadows in her mind.


    As they stepped up to the counter for their turn, the clerk frowned at the pair, running a nervous hand over the carpeted counter. They should not have been there, their very presence in danger of attracting the attention of the guards to the clerk and his good deed. ¡°What is it, Klorachamol?¡±


    ¡°I am declaring Mother Load.¡±


    The clerk stared at him as if he had lost his mind, his own thoughts derailed and thrown into confusion. He blurted out, ¡°Are you crazy? Klorachamol, do you have any idea how much you¡¯ll have to produce, total, to meet the requirements?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do. Look, you have to do your spiel, but keep it short,¡± Klorachamol growled. ¡°I found a potential hole some time ago and took advantage of the scrambler to investigate it.¡±


    ¡°I see. Well, just so you¡¯re aware, if I log a Mother Load, you must produce one year¡¯s quota from a single site in two weeks. If you fail, your entire bank will be wiped and you will be punished. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes, hurry up.¡±


    ¡°If you really have a Mother Load, your bank will be credited and you will be allowed to make several purchases from the surface. Do you want to declare Mother Load?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The clerk sighed, shaking his head. They were all fools. Of the last twenty-seven to make the declaration, exactly two had succeeded - the dwarves. Calling over the depot guard, the clerk informed him that Klorachamol wanted to declare Mother Load. The guard glared at the miners. While the take from a successful declaration could shift the guard, usually it did not pan out. It just meant more work for them all, but he had to acknowledge it, so he grunted for them to start.


    ¡°I will make my opening deposit now,¡± Klorachamol sounded bored.


    ¡°Oh very well,¡± the clerk griped. ¡°Show us what trivial you have.¡±


    Klorachamol leaned over the counter. ¡°You¡¯re starting to irritate me.¡± The clerk¡¯s eyes grew wide and he turned several shades paler, a true feat since he had been in the mines for several years already. ¡°You had better evaluate accurately, or there¡¯s going to be another clerk in your spot before next shift.¡±


    The clerk gulped and stammered, ¡°Are you threatening me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am, and right in front of the guard too. What are you going to do about it?¡± Klorachamol pulled away and stood relaxed, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. ¡°My suggestion would be to evaluate very carefully.¡±


    The clerk nodded. ¡°Right.¡± He called the head depot boss. ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡±


    The assassin grabbed the top most bag from the overfull anti-gravity box. Dumping its contents on the counter, he stepped back and crossed his arms again.


    The head clerk let out a soft curse at the wealth heaped before him and the two men began evaluating the crystal ore. The tally began to climb. When they had almost completed the first bag, Klorachamol dumped the second, which contained more in it than the first, and so it went as all the bags were dumped, including the stuff Moriah had brought out the previous day.


    Finished, the head clerk grinned crooked at the pair. ¡°It looks like you¡¯re in official Mother Load status with your initial dropping. You¡¯ve already achieved two and a half years quota. Is this all?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Klorachamol grinned at him. ¡°Ask Ker. She¡¯s the scrambler. I¡¯ve never seen the site myself.¡±


    The head clerk looked at the child, frowning. ¡°Well, Ker, what else is there?¡±


    She stared at the far wall, not turning towards him, not blinking, not answering.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± The man said, suddenly angry.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t talk, but she is under Edict, so tread softly, Jaxson. She hasn¡¯t said a word since I met her two days ago. Just stares off into the distance.¡±


    ¡°Klorachamol, take us to the site,¡± one of the guards demanded, interrupting the scene.


    Klorachamol snorted at having his fun cut short and picked Ker up, setting her in the box where she curled up and fell fast asleep again. Pushing the box out of the depot, he led the way back to the hole. The guards wasted no time cordoning off the tunnel on both sides of the hole.


    ¡°Take these and have Ker carry them to the site to record its location.¡± One of the guards handed Klorachamol two identical recorders. Since scanners and communication devices would not work in the mines due to the richness of crystal and raw myth class ores, one would be left at the site to record progress and one would be returned so they could know exactly what kind of site Moriah had discovered.


    Moriah woke up in her sleeping spot. Rising, she saw that the man and woman were sleeping together again, but the two dwarves were not present. However, a guard in light-armor sat off to one side, a shadow in her mind as everything else. She thought she did not like the guard, but could not remember why. She stared at him for nearly five minutes with her dead eyes before he began to fidget.


    ¡°Ker, stop intimidating the guard,¡± Klorachamol said, revealing bare chest as he sat up in his bed, but flipping the blanket so Jenna remained concealed. ¡°It¡¯s not healthy.¡± Standing, he dressed and ordered her to come with him. Jenna watched from under the covers, only her eyes showing. She did not want to show herself to the guard, as that could cause problems later.


    Taking his charge to get food, Klorachamol watched her eat. It was like watching an automaton and he felt ill at ease. When she finished, he made her go to the bathroom and then took her out to the Mother Lode site.


    She accepted the two recorders without comment and was gone, entering the hole without the slightest hesitation. The two guards stood casually, waiting. Klorachamol glanced at them with a snort - they had no clue at the length of the pending wait. Picking up his pickaxe, he proceeded to swing it none stop for the next few hours, deliberately applying enough force with each blow so the tactical computers in the light-armor sensors would register the fact any one of the blows would be enough to penetrate their feeble protection. It amused him how weak the guards really were, to be so easily intimidated.


    Moriah took eight hours this time since they had let her take a small box, which made it possible for her to carry much more than she had the previous two trips. The box floated out of the hole and the guards quickly checked it. Not only had she filled the box full of crystal, but she had attached several bags and used the box to drag them.


    The guards let out grunts of excitement. They might just be getting out of the mine well before the earliest, most positive predictions.

 Chapter 5 - One Inch too Far

    ¡°Commander.¡± The soldier stepped up to his commanding officer.


    ¡°What is it Corporal?¡± The commander sighed his resignation. He hated being on this planet. He hated being the commander of this foolish illegal mine.


    ¡°One of the miners has declared Mother Load.¡± The Corporal hated his commanding officer. The man was not incompetent, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he simply did not care about anything other than himself and it showed in a number of the standing orders handed down since he had been assigned to the operation.


    ¡°Which one this time?¡±


    ¡°Klorachamol.¡± The Corporal said the name simply, without any special inflection, but it was a timed grenade all the same.


    The Commander paused and for the first time looked fully at the corporal to see if he was joking, but he knew none if his subordinates would dare such a joke. ¡°Please expand.¡±


    ¡°Sir. He and the new scrambler, currently his ward, declared it four days ago when you were gone. Their initial deposit exceeded Klorachamol¡¯s year quota by over double, establishing fulfilled ML status, sir. Subsequently, they have exceeded ten times Mr. Klorachamol¡¯s yearly quota and word is that they have barely scratched the surface. Apparently, they found a large bubble a distance down a worm hole that Mr. Klorachamol had recently discovered. They sent a record chip with the scrambler and preliminary estimates are that the bubble contains enough crystal to meet the Lady¡¯s established annual quota, sir.¡±


    The Commander stood thoughtfully for a long moment. ¡°Very well, Corporal. Provide Klorachamol sufficient leeway to ensure nothing untoward happens, but be a bit circumspect about it. Keep me informed.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    The week passed and there was no end in sight for the Mother Lode claim. Because the mentor relationship ended, Moriah was given a split claim with Klorachamol, but her personal quota was set at the predetermined, and rather low new-miner¡¯s quota. Thus she more than exceeded her yearly quota with the first load entered under her own account. At the end of the second week of the Mother Lode declaration, the claim was opened to all other miners. However, only the other two scramblers could benefit from it, since they were the only ones able to get to the bubble.


    But those two did not waste any time. Gnomes, the smaller version of the gnarly folk, dwarves being the larger, they easily claimed their own mother loads after seeing how much remained in the bubble and the three scramblers worked together without bickering, for the most part. Moriah said nothing when Hank took half of her work every once in a while.


    ¡°Stop that, Hank,¡± Rocklite finally said, fed up with the older gnome¡¯s thievery. ¡°You don¡¯t have to take the child¡¯s stone to make your quota.¡±


    ¡°Stay out of this, Rocky,¡± Hank replied offhand. ¡°She¡¯s not complaining, so don¡¯t stick your nose into it, right? She¡¯s already set for the next couple of years her bank¡¯s so stoked. It¡¯s not like any of us are actually going to leave this place alive anyway.¡±


    ¡°And yours isn¡¯t? And if it doesn¡¯t matter, then why are you doing it?¡± Rocklite demanded. ¡°If you don¡¯t knock it off, I¡¯ll mention it to Klorachamol.¡±


    ¡°If you say a word, I¡¯ll kill you,¡± Hank replied in good humor. ¡°It will be accidental of course.¡±


    Rocklite frowned. Several people who had crossed the gnome had already gone missing, presumed dead. He would not off Rocklite easily, but the older gnome¡¯s grasp of earth lore ought not be taken lightly. ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t mention it, but Ker might wake up one of these days.¡±


    ¡°She can be eliminated too,¡± the gnome snorted. Both gnomes stopped talking abruptly and turned to look into the dead gaze of Ker. She stared at them without pause for a long time, no expression on her face, no light in her eyes. Finally Hank snarled, ¡°Stop looking at me, girl, or you¡¯ll die a miserable death.¡±


    Moriah¡¯s gaze never wavered and eventually both gnomes became so nervous they left the bubble for a break. Moriah watched them go, vaguely confused. He had not killed her. She wondered why. Turning back to the gem she had been cutting free, she resumed her task.


    ¡°I tell you, I want her out of the bubble!¡± Hank yelled at the head depot clerk, overly animated. ¡°I can cut more than she can in half the time!¡±


    The clerk tapped his display. ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you? You¡¯ve only brought out three-quarters her load in the past three days.¡± He gazed steadily at Hank. No one really cared for the small man, small in stature, smaller in character. ¡°Besides, you cannot bar her from her own claim, no matter what. She, however, can bar you if you try to impede her, or if you steal from her.¡±


    ¡°What! Are you accusing me of stealing? I can have you removed from the Depot for that shit!¡±


    ¡°You may file a complaint, Hank. The guard¡¯s right over there.¡± The clerk indicated the depot¡¯s resident guard, unconcerned. While he did not want the attention, he knew Hank didn¡¯t either. ¡°I¡¯ll call him over for you if you like.¡±


    With an unpleasant curse directed at the clerk, the gnome stalked out of the depot. The clerk watched him go, more than a little disturbed. He had not really thought the gnome was stealing from Ker. He looked at the production tabulations again. How was the girl producing this much if the bastard was stealing part of it? She was a child for crying out loud.


    Two months passed and the bubble was well mined, but did not appear to be near exhaustion. Moriah spent her time cutting the crystal ore, eating and sleeping. She had already exceeded all possible expectations and had enough credit in her bank so she would not have to meet her now rather high quota for the next year and a half, but she did not stop.


    Hank still took part of her take, and she still said nothing - to anyone.


    One ¡°day,¡± day being a rather relative term to the miners, Moriah sat alone in the sleeping cave. She had remained in Klorachamol domain on sufferance. He repeatedly told her to go find another place to sleep, she repeatedly ignored him. The dwarves had accepted her presence as a matter of course. Jenna remained unnerved by her, but thought the child¡¯s presence rather erotic, so did not object.


    But right then, Moriah sat alone. Hank stepped into the cave¡¯s entrance, glancing around. Moriah sat staring off into space. Approaching quietly, the gnome stepped into her line of sight suddenly and barked, trying to startle her. She did not flinch, but after a long moment her gaze shifted so that he felt the death present there in it fully.


    ¡°Damn, you¡¯re one creepy kid,¡± he chuckled. Smiling at her in a most winning way, he continued, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m a little curious which of us is the better scrambler, Ker. How about you and I having a little contest?¡± He smiled at her and held up a bracelet set with crystal. ¡°I will give this to you, if you win.¡± Her eyes did not shift to the object, merely staring at him without blinking.


    His smile faltered. ¡°Okay, I¡®ll one up it. If you win, I¡¯ll show you how to make this pretty thing.¡±


    Silence.


    His face turned into a sneer. He hated that she would not talk. He hated everything about this place and he hated everyone in it, but of everything that he hated, this human child now topped the list. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll show you how to make it first. Then we¡¯ll have our little contest. You win, you get this bauble.¡± Now he smiled, ¡°But if you lose, I get you. You will come serve me properly. How does that sound, Ker?¡±


    ¡°It sounds like a terrible deal,¡± Klorachamol said, standing in the cave¡¯s back entrance, an edge of fury in his voice. ¡°Leave this cave now, Hank, before I forget you¡¯re a soft Edict.¡±


    Hank looked up and sneered at the human. ¡°You are deadly, boy, but you¡¯re not the only one who knows how to kill. You best watch who you threaten. I¡¯m not one of those pathetic weaklings that cower in your shadow.¡± He laughed. ¡°And I wasn¡¯t making the bet with you, but with Ker. She has to make her own decisions.¡±


    ¡°Her own decisions?¡± Jenna said coming in from the other entrance. ¡°Just what do you mean by that, Hank? She¡¯s just a child and cannot even talk.¡± Corko stood with her.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Hank frowned at his distant cousin. He was confident he could take the humans, but not if Corko interfered. ¡°Just a friendly bet as to who is the better scrambler, but I see her babysitters are ever so careful of their little baby.¡± He laughed his derision.


    Moriah took a step toward the gnome, looking at him level in the eyes. Hank backed away from those twin globes of the grave. Moriah continued to gaze at him and he took another step backwards. She took a step, following him.


    ¡°What in the twelve pits of hades do you want!¡± he snarled. She just gazed at him, rasping his nerves past endurance.


    ¡°Accepts challenge she has,¡± intoned Corko softly, breaking the tension.


    ¡°What!¡± Jenna and Klorachamol both exploded, but stopped at the raised hand.


    ¡°I speak what is seen. Terms of bet, what be they?¡± Corko stared at Hank hard for a long moment.


    ¡°I would give her this bracelet if she beats me scrambling. If I win, she serves me.¡± He grinned.


    ¡°I believe you also said you would show her how to make the bracelet before the contest, if she accepted,¡± Klorachamol added narrowly. ¡°Or perhaps you forgot about that part?¡±


    Hank glared, clenching fists to the point of drawing blood. Damn the human. ¡°That is hardly ...¡±


    ¡°You stated the terms, gnome,¡± Klorachamol snapped, glaring back with equal hostility. Imaginary bugs fell dead in the tense air. ¡°No one in this mine would believe the idea came from her, even if she had come up with it.¡±


    Hank was about to continue arguing when Jenjen stepped forward from concealment. ¡°Cousin, you dishonor the clan. Honor contract, you will. Violation shall bring abandonment by the Mother!¡± he declared, but not in his boisterous voice. This voice was softer, even softer than Corko¡¯s, but the very stones rippled with its power, pebbles shifting on the ground, small streams of dirt streaming from the ceiling. ¡°Judge, I shall be. Cheating, death shall claim thee through clan disa.¡±


    Hank faltered. Gnarly clans could sever those who passed the boundary of acceptable shame, clan disa. Few of the gnarly blood could survive such severance, those who did inevitably becoming mental vegetables. This had not worked out as he had intended at all. But it did not matter. He could not be blamed if she accepted the challenge of her own free will and he would not lose. ¡°Fine. There¡¯s a hole that Hestes found three cycles ago. We¡¯ll begin with that one. We¡¯ll each go as far as we can, using a crystal marker to track progress. If it dead ends and we both achieve the same distance, we will go to another hole, one of her choosing. If we tie again, then I choose the next, until there¡¯s a winner.¡± He laughed, ¡°But I doubt it will come to that. There¡¯s no way she can beat me.¡±


    ¡°So you say,¡± Jenna said. ¡°I personally think she can.¡±


    The gnome stopped laughing and glared at the human. ¡°Perhaps you would like to bet your services as well?¡±


    ¡°No thank you, but I think I do have something you might want,¡± she smiled at him and pulled out a small, none regulation lesion knife. ¡°I¡¯ll bet this against your little custom pickaxe.¡±


    ¡°What! That¡¯s ridiculous! They¡¯re hardly comparable in value.¡± The gnome snarled his outrage.


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Jenna commented, smiling as she ran a hand through hair in amusement and glanced coyly up at the ceiling. ¡°Then you think Ker¡¯s your equal?¡± The gnome¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°I mean, if we must bet items of equal value, then you must be of equal skill and ability. I was under the impression you believed yourself so far superior ....¡± She shrugged eloquently.


    ¡°Fine! I accept your paltry wager!¡± The gnome fumed.


    Jenna smiled at him sweetly, wondering what had possessed her to make that bet. The gnome would most likely win in the end. He had more experience and he was gnarly, after all. All the gnarly folk, whether they were short and skinny gnomes or short and fat dwarves, had earth affinity. Few trained humans in elemental affinity could match what the gnarly folk possessed by nature. And Hank had trained nature to precision


    ¡°Bet I would make as well,¡± intoned Corko, surprising all present except Ker. ¡°Ker wins, wager the hammer of pebbles against the knowledge of fluid Mother.¡± He stared levelly at his cousin, twelfth removed on his father¡¯s side.


    Hank stared at Corko for a long moment and then burst out into laughter. ¡°Fool! Do you truly believe the human will beat me? I accept thine bet as well, fool.¡± His laughter rang off the stones of the cave.


    ¡°Written down, the knowledge shall be, entrusted to impartial observers the scrolls shall be. Validation of content, before trials,¡± Corko continued.


    ¡°Are you saying you don¡¯t trust me?¡± Hank demanded, flaming red. Corko settled into the ground, becoming one with the surrounding stone against the heat of Hank¡¯s fury. He said nothing in reply. Hank snarl-sneered, ¡°Very well! But who do you suggest be the observer and who the validator?¡±


    ¡°Priestess Karen Fir, the observer to be. Captain Restorm Sterling, the validator to be.¡± Corko rumbled.


    Hank wanted to object, but knew the act pointless. Karen Fir was the resident priestess of the High Lord. While a mere novice upon entrance into the mines, no one contested her devotion and loyalty to her Lord, nor her honesty. She would give the scrolls to whichever was determined the winner, no matter her personal feelings.


    And Captain Restorm Sterling possessed the empathic Gift. While the ability to read emotions took great skill and experience, and could be blocked, rather easily in fact, such blocking could not be hidden nearly as easily and Hank already knew how skilled the ex-Emerite officer was. Captain Sterling was also honest and someone to be feared, though for different reasons than someone like Klorachamol. He would simply ask if they had written what the other expected. If they lied, he would know. If Hank blocked him so that he could not validate, he would know. Infuriating.


    Acquitting to the inevitable, Hank said, ¡°Very well. We will begin in four cycles. That ought to be enough time for you to inscribe the patterns for the Hammer of Pebbles. Meet at the junction of seven.¡±


    ¡°Ten cycles, or can you teach a novice so quickly,¡± Corko countered.


    Hank snorted and waved the matter off. ¡°Ten cycles then.¡± He laughed again as he left the cave, pleased because despite everything, it had turned for the better at the end.


    Silence for a space descended after his voice faded. ¡°What possessed you to accept such a stupid bet, Ker? Do you have any idea what he will do to you if you lose?¡± Klorachamol threw his hands into the air in exasperation, knowing only silence would answer his outrage. Still, he glared at her.


    Moriah stared at him for a brief moment, but then her gaze slid off his shadowy form and she moved to her bed roll and lay down. Klorachamol let loose a strangled growl of frustration.


    The bet became the topic of conversation for the next few cycles. Bets and side bets were made, though few actually wagered on Ker to win. None had any doubt that the gnome had already rigged the outcome in some untraceable way. Klorachamol spent time trying to figure out where the rig lay, but could uncover nothing. The discovery of the new hole was documented and Hank had not been down it yet. Everyone agreed on that, including the two dwarves.


    Finally the time came. Moriah stood with Hank before the hole. He had already given his scroll to Karen and been validated. He grinned at the child, relishing the coming days. ¡°You may go first, Ker,¡± he declared as if conferring an honor. She stared at him until he let out a curse and looked away.


    ¡°We will determine who goes first by chance,¡± Restorm Sterling said, taking charge. He held his lanky hands in front of him as if praying, palm pressed to palm. ¡°I have a scrap of paper in a certain shape, round or triangular. Since Ker does not speak, Hank you will choose. If you are correct, you will go first. If you are wrong, you will go second, Ker going first.¡± He looked at the gnome expectantly.


    Hank glared for a moment, frowning at the human warrior, but then he shrugged and picked triangular. Restorm opened his hands and revealed the small triangle trapped there.


    ¡°You are correct. You will go first.¡± Restorm stepped up to the hole and pulled out two small pink stones. ¡°Each of you will take one of these with you. They will record your progress for review by the judge.¡± He nodded to Jenjen. ¡°They are virgin stones, so any attempt to modify data by either combatant will be noted and he will lose by default.¡±


    Sneering at the human, Hank scrambled into the hole. He was gone for only twenty minutes when he came back out and handed the stone to Jenjen. ¡°There was a fenguar growth in the tunnel. I guess we¡¯ll have to use another hole.¡± He sounded properly disgusted.


    Klorachamol stared at him hard. Could he have known? Hank had an almost sixth sense for danger in the mines, so it was entirely possible, but not something provable.


    Moriah stepped up to Restorm and held out her hand for her chip. The kind man smiled at her. ¡°This route¡¯s no good, Ker. We¡¯ll have to go to another hole.¡± She kept her hand out, staring at him in her unnerving way.


    ¡°To the Ker, stone to give,¡± intoned Jenjen. ¡°If she does not meet the distance of the opponent, lose she will.¡±


    Restorm sighed and handed the stone to her. ¡°Okay. Just go as far as the fenguar though. That stuff¡¯s dangerous. Its spore will cause you to hallucinate as it devours you in slow leisure. You would not feel any pain, but the dreams can be unpleasant sometimes.¡±


    Moriah tucked in her clothing, sealing the arms and legs, gloves and boots and collar secure and raised her hood after she had pulled on a filter mask. Hank watched her with amusement.


    ¡°If you go into the fenguar, that little mask won¡¯t protect you.¡± Moriah continued her preparation, not acknowledging the gnome. He snarled at her finally, ¡°You¡¯ll not ignore me for much longer, Ker.¡± He leered wickedly.


    Moriah straightened, looking down the passage as if the gnome did not exist. After the briefest of moments, she climbed into the hole. As she crawled, she might have marveled at the wonders of this narrow world, she might have been intrigued by this or that formation or bug, but her dead eyes glazed over them, nothing penetrating the shell into which she had withdrawn.


    Crawling to where the first signs of fenguar glowed, its luminescent strands of mold very visible even in her light, she could see where some had been crushed. The gnome had continued in a ways. She did not care if she won, really, but she knew that the dwarf had bet on her and she did not want him to lose, so she continued. Finally she reached where the gnome had stopped. The memory from the learning stones covering fenguar mold surfaced in her mind against her will and she knew that the outer colonies did not actually produce spores and so were relatively safe. Their purpose was to draw an animal into the center, where the main body of the carnivorous plant would incapacitate the victim and slowly devour it.


    She stared at the wavering strands and tried to pull away, but the plant did not let her go. Several strands of the mold had coiled around her wrists and were slowly constricting. She pulled a couple of times, but then stopped. Apparently the gnome had gone in just far enough to activate the main body and then used his gnarly strength to free himself. Moriah was not nearly so strong and was now trapped.

 Chapter 6 - Consequences

    An hour had passed and Klorachamol was becoming restless. He glared at Hank, but the gnome ignored him. The assassin longed to slip into the abundance of shadows in the dank mine, to strike the earth mage from behind, but the accursed collar on his neck prevented it. Even though the elf moved freely in the shadow dimension, there was the distinct possibility that such a move would cut off the signal that kept Klorachamol¡¯s collar from exploding. He dared not risk it.


    A noise came from the hole, catching Jenjen¡¯s attention. ¡°Something happens.¡± He spoke softly, sending a shiver up Klorachamol¡¯s spine. It was never a good thing when Jenjen spoke softly.


    The noise built up until it became identifiable as screaming. No discernable words, but it was steeped in grief and anguish. Eventually it peaked, not getting any louder, it broke for a moment and then resumed. It continued. It seemed not to ever stop.


    ¡°What did you do!¡± Klorachamol growled and launched himself at Hank.


    Hank was ready for this. A pillar of rock dropped from the tunnel ceiling into the assassin¡¯s path, Hank expecting the man to smash into it. However, Klorachamol evaded, and the second and third which came from the right and left. The fourth knocked him sideways, but barely slowed him. Desperate now, the gnome raised a thin globe of stone about himself. When the human slammed into it, it trembled. Smiling victory, the gnome shattered the rock himself, sending shards outwards in all directions, not caring who got hurt.


    Klorachamol realized his danger even as he struck the rock and withdrew, easily evading the jagged shards with only a few jagged cuts on his hands from deflecting a few of the shards. Standing fifteen feet from the gnome, he snarled, ¡°You will die for this! That Ker was under Edict!¡±


    ¡°So am I, remember? And I didn¡¯t force her into the hole. She went of her own free will,¡± Hank replied indifferently, though his breath came somewhat ragged and sweat drenched his dark hair and coveralls. ¡°There¡¯s no reason for her to have gone into the fenguar. She should not have been in danger.¡±


    ¡°He lies,¡± Restorm announced from a distance down the tunnel. Hank spun and stared at the validator, snapping his personal shielding about his mind and heart again, that which he had lowered for the accursed validation.


    Klorachamol also stared at Restorm a moment and then he refocused on the gnome. ¡°I knew it. You set her up somehow, you bastard.¡±


    The gnome looked at the assassin in silence, tense for renewed action.


    At that moment, the scream changed, an unnatural reverb adding to its quality. The walls of the mine shuddered, the very stone shivering in response. Loose dirt and rocks fell from the ceiling dimming the already dim lighting in the tunnel. A stone fell and glanced off Klorachamol¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°The crystal sings in sympathy to the girl¡¯s anguish,¡± Corko declared, his eyes narrowing. ¡°The eaters shall come.¡±


    A pregnant pause evaporated into panic. Desperate to silence the cries, one of the guards injected sleeping gas into the tunnel. The screams continued unabated. However, shortly after the guard discontinued the gas, they did change, becoming more muffled and difficult to hear. The earth shivered a second time.


    The head guard appeared, clearing all miners from the tunnel. Spider movement had been detected by the remote sensors and he wanted the disturbance stopped. ¡°Blow the hole,¡± he ordered his men. ¡°However valuable the girl was, she¡¯s trash now and the whole mine¡¯s in danger.¡± He spun and left, furious at the situation. What had possessed the gnome to challenging the novice child and why had it been allowed? How was he going to explain the loss to the commander?


    Three blasts from one of the guard¡¯s guns sealed the small tunnel, killing the sound from within. Back in the compound, the head guard listened to the scenario. However, without actual proof that Hank had killed the girl intentionally, he was not going to lose two scramblers in a single day.


    Hank smirked.


    Darkness billowed in the cavern, the hanging lights faltering, struggling to shine but losing their battle. ¡°Hank. I am displeased.¡± Klierallan appeared before the gnome. ¡°The child was of interest to me.¡± The elf spoke in a whisper as he squatted before the gnome, running his hand along the small man¡¯s cheek. Hank paled, his eyes growing wide, body frozen and unresponsive. ¡°I think you shall die very miserably, Hank. Planning such a vile crime, the murder of a true innocent. How pathetic.¡±


    Hank stammered, ¡°I did not murder her, you evil bastard. She entered that hole under her own volition.¡±


    The elf stood to his full height, looking down on the gnome. The light returned. The elf gone. Hank looked around frantic, terrified beyond reason. ¡°She entered of her own free will, damn you bastard!¡± he screamed. Silence answered him.


    The head guard swallowed, shaken. He had known about the elf imprisoned in the mines, but he had never dreamed he would be something like that. Spinning on his heels, he left the main cave.


    The rest of the miners pulled away from the gnome, looking at him askance. No one wanted to be close to him lest the elf¡¯s vengeance strike at them by happenstance.


    Hank stood still for a long minute and then shook himself. Nothing had happened. Breathing in relief, he smiled. ¡°Well now. It appears I have won the little contest. While I am disappointed that I lost Ker, I shall still take my other winnings.¡± He took a step toward Karen to retrieve both his scroll and the one Corko had inscribed. ¡°Argghhh!¡± He screamed as his leg snapped, breaking and turning in a weird direction. He fell to the ground, trying to catch his fall with his hands. His wrists and elbows dislocated and he screamed again, even louder. His scream turned into a gurgle as the lining of his throat gave way and he began choking. After several long minutes of bloody convulsing, skin and bones breaking apart as if eaten away by internal acid, the gnome called Hank stilled, dead.


    Karen stared at the mush of an ex-gnome in horror. What a horrible way to die, but she suspected she knew what the elf had done. She had been present for the ordination of a bishop and had sensed a similar spell being used at that time, though the elf had brutalized its purpose. In essence, the spell revealed a person¡¯s inner heart. An honest and upright heart of solid character received strengthening by degrees. All those commissioned bishop or greater underwent the spell, permanently changing to something greater than they had been. However, if a vile and corrupt person underwent the spell, that one would be weakened by degrees in the same manner. Most people fell in the middle and nothing drastic happened to them. Of course, those not strengthened to a noticeable degree were disqualified from any higher Temple offices.


    Hank had been so corrupt in his heart that the spell had made him brittle. When he took a step, his bones had snapped. When he fell, his ligaments had not held. When he screamed, his lining of his throat literally shredded.


    Karen turned away. A horrible way to die, but one brought on wholly by the gnome¡¯s own actions and life. He had condemned himself, for if he had possessed any worthiness of character at all, such a drastic reaction would never have happened. She wondered what would happen to the elf who cast the spell on the gnome, if it were cast on himself.


    The dream began, fangs of terror clamping upon Moriah¡¯s heart and mind. She did not want the dream to come. She forbid its approach. She shook her head in denial, trying to look away, but could not. She did not understand. She had rejected it before and it had gone away. Why was it not going away? She wanted it to go AWAY!


    She began to whimper, struggling feebly as the fenguar spores penetrated her mask¡¯s filters. The coils tightened a little.


    Moriah lay in her bed asleep. Thunder shook the house, waking her. She lay still for several moments, another boom rattling her stuffed animal laden shelves, the sonics tingling her skin. Smiling her thrill, she shivered her delight at the sensation. Still, this was the wrong time of year. Thunderstorms hit heavy right around her birthday, and her ninth still lay two months away. She loved that time of the year most, thunderstorms always being thrilling and energizing for her. However, her sister did not think that way at all. Even though Sillimor was a whole four years older than Moriah, she always got scared.


    Covers flying, Moriah sprang from her bed.


    no


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    Moriah grinned as another boom shook the window panes. Struggling to pull Hermes from under her bed. Hermes was a very special teddy bear slightly larger than its small human mistress, and the best stuffed animal in the whole world. Moriah glanced at the dark windows. She thought about leaving the massive bear, but rejected the idea. He was her protector and Moriah knew he would help protect Sillimor too. Throwing Hermes to her head like a vase, she grunted at his weight. She hated being so small sometimes, much smaller than other children her age. Still, she knew she compensated for it by being stronger. At least she thought so.


    no


    Opening the door to the hallway, the little girl staggered over to her sister¡¯s room. Dropping Hermes to the floor, she knocked and then entered without waiting for a reply. ¡°Sillimor? It¡¯s Moriah and Hermes. We were wondering if we could come sleep in your room?¡± Grabbing Hermes by one arm, she hauled him into a bear hug and began carrying him toward Sillimor.


    The eleven year old hated thunderstorms with an obsessive passion. Sitting up in her bed, blanket held to her pretty chin, long golden hair falling in disarray about her, she stared at Moriah gratefully and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. The almost nine year old hauled the massive bear over to her sister¡¯s bed. Sillimor helped pull the stuffed animal onto the bed, Moriah scrambling up after.


    please stop - go away


    Several more booms shook the windows, confusing Moriah. This did not sound like normal thunder. Sillimor¡¯s door burst open, both girls jumping in fright. Their father appeared in the doorway and Moriah relaxed.


    no - stop - please make it stop


    But then it registered - fear. Her father looked afraid. That could not be right. Her father could not be afraid. Looking at his two daughters, relief washed over his face, but the fear remained. ¡°Girls, get downstairs,¡± he ordered. ¡°Your mother¡¯s waiting.¡± He turned and raced out of sight.


    please, no


    Looking at each other, Moriah and Sillimor grew eyes too large for their faces. Scrambling out of the bed, they raced to the door, down the hall and down the stairs. Their mother stood in the entrance way of their house, a black coat thrown over her green nightgown. The stalwart trio Jeremy and Kord and Jason also had dark overcoats on. Moriah felt even more confused. Her older brothers never looked scared either. Jessica and Rachael came running down the stairs with her father. They looked scared too. Moriah began to get worried, just a little bit.


    tears began leaking from dead eyes


    The family moved to the front door and Moriah realized that both Mommy and Daddy had their big guns, not the ones for hunting, but the other ones. ¡°Stay together everyone. Hold hands and be quiet.¡± Moriah¡¯s father spared a moment to smile at Moriah. She saw the smile so very crystal clear, sparkling with its own light.


    a slow sound rumbled, trying to escape


    Slipping into the night, a flash of light in the distance brightened the sky, but not like lightning. A bomb of some sort Moriah realized. Exciting. She had wanted to be a warrior since just after turning four and knew all sorts of things about weapons and stuff. But she did not understand why there were bombs going off here. They did not live in a war zone, not for several light years. Her confusion rose.


    the sound found a small escape


    Her family ran quickly. They traveled along the street for a short distance, but then turned into the forest. They ran for what seemed like forever to the little girl.


    no! stay with them!


    Moriah ran alone. Stopping, she looked around. Where had everyone gone? Her lower lip quivered, tears forming. Denying fear, she allowed she was perhaps just a little worried.


    find them! hurry! hurry! warn them!


    She ran along the direction she felt sure her family had gone, the direction of the just-in-case place. She knew where to go. Coming to a clearing, she ran along the forest edge, sure that she should not run in the open. A good soldier did not do stupid stuff like that, after all.


    no! the other side! go to the other side! hurry! before!


    She had traveled just over half way to the far side of the cleared area when the little girl spotted her family on the other side of the clearing. She knew better than to run across, but she really wanted to anyway. Still, they were heading the same direction and she could meet them at the far end, just as she had guessed.


    A noise began small, but rapidly increased. Moriah saw her family all duck down, so she did too, but she peeked. A Morkan tank hovered over the trees, moving slowly toward her family. She realized they would be discovered in just moments.


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    <li> please. not again. please. no.</li>


    </ol>


    her head began to shake back and forth


    the cords that held her arms tightened


    She could not let her family be captured, but what could she do? Firming her resolve, she stood up and ran into the clearing in full view of the tank. She would distract it away and give the others time to reach the just-in-case place. She would save her family.


    the escape route became wider, the sound became louder, the world seemed to catch the sound and amplify it


    The next moment happened in slow motion, every detail engraved and highlighted with impossible detail. The tank¡¯s muzzle glowed. Light shot forth. Light streaked in a straight line. Light struck. Exploded. Dirt showered everywhere. Trees shattered. Individual shards of wood flew in visible, minute detail. Light blazed.


    Her family evaporated.


    the sound broke and then resumed in fresh anguish


    moriah thrashed - the restraining cords tightened - the cords broke - the cords grasped


    The world darkened as the little girl spun to the ground as the force of the explosion washed over her. Moriah woke in her bed to the sound of thunder. She was not afraid, but knew that her sister would be.


    The dream started again. Moriah thrashed, breaking free of the fenguar with adrenaline strength, but the plant struggled to resecure its hold, succeeding because Moriah remained unaware, caught within the fenguar spore dream. The nightmare memory repeated again and again, shredding the already wounded soul of the young child, but then a second explosion sounded out of sync with the death of her family.


    Strange, the tormented soul reflected, perplexed out of the nightmare, and the loop broke. The little girl lay on the ground unconscious. The dreamer wondered how she could know what had happened while she remained unconscious. The tank hovered over the trees frozen, unmoving. Across the clearing, in the center of a distorted, massive crater miles across, her family all rose to stand. They turned to look at her with sad eyes.


    Wait. Why were they looking at her, the dreamer? Why were they not looking at the her laying unconscious? Her mother floated towards her. The dreamer¡¯s heart shuddered.


    ¡°Mommy, you¡¯re flying.¡± Tears welled in the dreamer¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Oh, my dear Moriah. You have suffered.¡± Her mother took her daughter into her arms, cradling her as the dreamer wept bitterly for the first time since that night.


    ¡°You died! I tried to save you, but I couldn¡¯t! I failed!¡± She hugged her mother with desperate, fierce strength. She did not care if her mother was a ghost or anything. She just wanted her Mommy! And Daddy!


    He appeared and gathered both his wife and child into his omnipotent arms, comforting both. The others were there too, all her brothers and sisters. Even Hermes.


    Her father¡¯s deep voice spoke. ¡°Now Moriah. How many times have I told you? If you try and do not succeed, you are not a failure. You have not failed. You have merely Delayed Success.¡±


    Moriah said the words in perfect sync with her father. He laughed at her and ruffled her long silver hair, which contained several distinct streaks of rich purple, one of black and several smaller streak of vibrant green. Moriah gulped, feeling a little better. ¡°But Daddy? If you died, how can success be delayed? I cannot bring you back to life, can I?¡±


    Sillimor laughed at her sister and hugged her. ¡°No, Silly. But can you not protect others? You are still alive, are you not?¡± She grinned at her sister.


    ¡°Are there not many in the place you are now who need protection? There are some whom you may even redeem, if you but try, no matter how delayed your success be.¡± Her mother raised Moriah¡¯s chin. ¡°Please. I want to see you live, my dearest Moriah. Be strong.¡±


    ¡°But you do not want me to be a warrior-knight,¡± Moriah whispered, afraid to hurt her mother now that she had her back.


    Mommy looked into her daughter¡¯s eyes with sadness, but pride. ¡°I never wanted you to be in such danger, my youngest and ever so dear child. But it is who you are. Should I deny that for my own comfort? You would suffer more. No. I will not bar you from that path. I will bless you on it, if it is what you choose.¡±


    Moriah looked at her mother wide eyed. ¡°Really? Really? You will? I can be a warrior-knight?¡±


    ¡°Yes my love. Here. Kneel.¡± The little dreamer fell to her knees and her own mother christened her, blessing her with her mother¡¯s love and loyalty. Her father christened her with his father¡¯s love and strength. Each of her siblings christened her in their own special ways. Hermes put both of his great paws on her shoulders.


    ¡°Rise, Sir Moriah,¡± her mother grinned at her, the first to use her daughter¡¯s new title. The dreamer stood, looking down at herself clothed in a suit of armor. It was the old kind, not powered. Except she knew it did have power, somehow, of some kind. She could see the most interesting lines of light making curious patterns. They seemed to have little sparkles racing all over the armor¡¯s surface. Moriah giggled.


    ¡°Moriah.¡± Her father looked at her, his face turning serious. Moriah looked up into that serious face and swallowed. ¡°You shall face many trials. You must fight wisely. Sometimes, the greatest weapon is kindness and understanding. Remember, never use your sword just to destroy. You are the Protector. You must always build up the weak. Help them to become strong in their own times.¡±


    ¡°Yes Father,¡± Moriah gulped.


    ¡°Moriah, you face four great opponents now, each must be defeated by your own strength before you will be allowed upon this path. If you fail, you will die here and now. There will be no second chances.¡±


    ¡°You must face the force that binds you,¡± Sillimor intoned, light shining from her eyes. ¡°She who seeks to detain and bind you to this place forever.¡±


    ¡°You must break the cords that restrain you,¡± Jeremy and Jason said in perfect unison, their voices tickling in their harmony. ¡°They that seek to devour you.¡±


    ¡°You must cleanse the web that bars you,¡± Cord and Jessica declared, again in perfect unison. ¡°It has many guardians, though a single mistress.¡±


    ¡°You must pierce the path that beguiles you,¡± Rachael, her last sister declared. ¡°It will bind you and bar your way, seeking to confuse and turn aside. There are many ways, save the one known.¡±


    ¡°Moriah, you must defeat these four alone, none will come to aid you.¡± Her parents looked at her sadly. ¡°We must leave now. The first trial approaches. We love you and want you to live! Fulfill what is in your heart to do. In that you honor us.¡±


    ¡°Mommy! Daddy! Don¡¯t leave me again!¡± The dreamer wailed in fresh anguish. She held up her hands to grasp them, but her hands passed through their bodies as they faded away.

 Chapter 7 - A Will to Survive

    Moriah looked around, confused. She hovered in the middle of the mining camp, Klierallan squatting before Hank a small distance ahead and below her. Moriah saw a spark of light enter the little gnome as the elf brushed his cheek. She puzzled at the sight as the black coils that held the small man together began to writhe as if in agony.


    But she did not have time for the gnome. There were others much more interesting than that little creature. The elf for one. A light burned deep inside him, but around it coiled cruel black chains dripping acid. The light bled red down the length of those chains. The chains themselves raced away from out of his body, connecting him to something very far away, but whose utter vileness could still be felt like slimy ooze which burned. They were not chains that he bore willingly, she felt certain. He looked so very miserable. But then he moved into the shadows and was not there any longer. She wondered how he did that.


    Others caught her attention briefly. The priestess Karen radiated a beautiful rainbow of wonderful brilliance, cool water and burning fire and refreshing winds laden with wildflower perfume washing over Moriah as she looked. Restorm held a fascinating blend of elegant dignity and roughhewn crystal, wood and fire. Corko towered as solid marble granite, wholly earthen. Jenna¡¯s heart lay enshrouded all in thorny vines, but a timid, gentle light peeked from behind its concealing armor. Klorachamol also had a light shining dimly in the depths of his heart, but shadows ran every which way about his soul in black and crimson flashes. The perfume of fresh turned earth, as of a grave, permeated his essence. Jenjen was the most interesting, beside the elf. His essence radiated more solid even than Corko¡¯s, his earth running deeper into the earth, towering higher into the stratosphere, great white arcing flares of blue and red, white and orange danced about him. Others in the room attracted her attention briefly, but none held it.


    Then she appeared, as if reality blinked. She was an ugly woman. Crossed eyes, one slightly larger than the other, lay staggered on her face. Offset ears did not line up with a short and flat nose , a crease running down between her nostrils. The nose had been twisted a few degrees and did not run straight up and down on her face. She wore a drab, baggy gray gown over a sagging body. Her fingernails stretched nearly three inches long, more talons than fingernails.


    The ugly creature looked up at the dreamer and spoke in a smoothly convincing tone, utterly at odds with her appearance. ¡°Come, join us girl. You know you are not allowed out and about like that. It is your duty to stay in the mine and bring up crystal ore and all that is valuable. You have to fulfill your duty, is this not honorable? If you do not, you cannot possess honor, can you? How can you be what you wish, if you have no honor?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re ugly,¡± Moriah said, fully nine-year old honest.


    The woman smiled at the child, her lips twisting sneer like. ¡°Oh, what a charming child. But that does not matter. You must do your duty.¡± She rose to meet the dreamer and enveloped Moriah in her embrace. ¡°You must do your duty, child. It is all that is important.¡±


    Moriah felt herself being smothered. It was not entirely unpleasant. There was security in allowing someone else to dictate her responsibilities, to tell her what to do. Life would be much easier if she did not have to think on her own.


    ¡°But then I cannot be a warrior-knight,¡± Moriah whispered.


    ¡°Oh? Is that so important?¡± the crone crooned. ¡°No, not really. Just put your trust in me and you will be content. You will always know what is expected and what you must do. There will be no mystery, only safety and security,¡± the hag crooned, petting Moriah¡¯s head.


    Moriah thought carefully for a moment. ¡°No. I will be a warrior-knight.¡±


    ¡°There, there. Let it go. Nothing matters but your duty.¡± The hag tightened her grip.


    Moriah struggled. ¡°No! I will not fail again!¡± Light flashed and her armor returned, encasing her in its embrace and knocking the hag back screaming obscenities.


    The scene changed and Moriah stood somewhere else. Dark surrounded her in all directions broken only by the light coming from her knightly armor. Something bound her arms and legs, wrapping around body and neck. Looking down at herself sent razor pain through her mind and down her back. Chains. Similar to those binding the elf, but different, being far less vile.


    ¡°You are mine already, Ker!¡± The hag cackled gleefully, using the child¡¯s mine-given name. ¡°I have had you bound tight for longer than you¡¯ve been in the mine itself. You will never leave, because I shall never let you go!¡±


    Moriah struggle, but the hag just laughed at the futility.


    Something filled Moriah¡¯s left hand. A weapon. A sword. When she touched a chain with its blade, the chain chattered. She began to shatter all of the chains. She giggled. Fun.


    ¡°No. You will not escape that easily, Ker.¡± The hag leaned toward the shimmering armor and held her hands splayed outward. More chains snaked out of the darkness to take the place of the ones shattered.


    She was not getting anywhere, Moriah realized after some time. The chains were not the real problem. She needed some way to attack the hag directly.


    The sword changed, becoming a gun. Moriah laughed and fired it at the hag, hitting her squarely. The hag screamed and the scene shifted again. Now Moriah stood in a tunnel surrounded by a million weeds on floor, walls, ceiling. Slowly and with meticulous care, she began to uproot those weeds. Small versions of the hag screamed at her to stop, ever trying to restrain her, but they no longer had any real power, only able to hinder, never stop. Every once in a while, Moriah became irritated with the interference and shot several of the pests. They would withdraw for a short time, but then return, but always weaker than before.


    Moriah did not know how long she uprooted the evil weeds, but abruptly there were no more. It surprised her. The tunnel faded and she knelt in yet another place. Aromas of plants and life enlivened Moriah¡¯s mind, though there was nothing really to be seen - just living greenness and a peaceful aura. The dreamer relaxed and submerged into that tranquility.


    Moriah jerked awake, pain lancing up her arms and piercing her shoulders. Glowing strands of fenguar coiled around her outstretched arms in cocooning strands. The walls inched past her as the fungus drew her towards its main body. Moriah jerked back in panic, but had no strength to resist.


    ¡°What am I going to do?¡± she whispered, her heart fluttering on the verge of terror as her voice cracked from long disuse, coupled with recent abuse. Her throat hurt, but her confused mind worked in a surreal field of numb calm. She could not pull back and she thought it would be stupid to push forward. She tried to raise her head as high as she could, to see how far the plant went, but it closed the passage a short distance from her.


    She hesitated. Had the fungus reacted to her light just then? It had looked like the plant had pulled back. Frowning, her confused thoughts churned the false calm. They were at a stalemate at the moment, she not able to move with her arms and body bound tight, but the progress toward the heart of the fenguar colony¡¯s heart halted.


    She decided to try turning her light off, since she did not need her hands to do so. The light responded to will-commands. The light vanished, allowing the glow of the plant colony to fill the tunnel unhindered. After several moments, Moriah noticed that the glow had brightened and the coils were moving up her arms. Even some of the plant she was laying on seemed to be moving under her again, tickling her stomach.


    Before she fully realized anything else had changed, she submerged into the fenguar¡¯s heart, the glowing mold pressed against her face mask. It was only a matter of time before one of the mold fibers found a weakness in her protective garb.


    Desperately, Moriah turned her light on full brightness. She felt a strange stab of pain in her head and the plant shudder, pulling away from the brightness, freeing her head and shoulders. The coils loosened from her arms and she managed to pull one of her hands free.


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    She squirmed in the tight tunnel, contorting her arm from over her head, down her body to where her lesion knife lay holstered. Fumbling with it until it pulled free, she brought her hand back over her head and ahead of her in the tunnel. She activated it and began hacking. The plant thrashed violently, pulling away from her more.


    She glared down the tunnel at her adversary. She cut it, but it did not die and spore spewed into the enclosed space with each incision. She needed a way of killing it all at one time.


    Knowledge flooded her. Things about mining and the life down in this underworld. Things the owners of the mine had forced into her mind in preparation for her job. Things about the lesion knife¡¯s blade, such as its ability to adjust to different needs, though there would be few chances to use anything but the low, rock cutting blade in her work. Now Moriah paused and decided to try some of those other settings.


    After several different non-helpful blade manifestations, she tried a globe like pattern which emitted a great deal of heat. The plant began to burn and curled into a tight defensive ball. The fumes choked Moriah even through her mask, burning her nose and throat. Tears trickled from stinging, fiercely shut eyes. Having enough room in the wide area where the fungus had grown and now abandoned, Moriah turned so she could kick at the burning mass.


    It rolled a few feet down the tunnel. Fully free of its influence, Moriah scrambled back along her route. However, when she had only gone a short distance, the tunnel ended. She stared at the rock wall, stomach clenching. I got turned around? Her thoughts numbed. She had been so sure she had needed to back away in order to escape the fungus and return to the others.


    Scooting on her butt feet first back to the fenguar mass, Moriah kicked it again. It rolled ahead of her as she scooched forward to kick it again and again, sometimes it took several kicks to free it from tight spaces or move it around a corner, but she persevered thinking she could not give up. But something tugged at the corner of her mind. She did not remember these tight places and sharp corners. The small fluttering wings in her stomach and tingling of adrenaline in her arms grew more and more insistent. She did not think she was scared, exactly, just a little worried.


    She had been scooting down the tunnel for she did not know how long, when the fenguar vanished. Startled, Moriah crawled back to a wider area and turned around again. Approaching the spot where it had vanished head first , she found a hole looking down into a huge bubble, similar to the Mother Lode claim.


    But this sphere had occupants, her light revealing a swarming mass of confusion. The creatures were quadrupeds with the long, supple bodies and heads of ferrets, twin oversized hook-like claws on each forepaw and long badger claws on the rear. Crystal ore and metallic spikes jutted out of their metallic bodies in many colored, jagged splendor.


    Their eyes were set wide on their heads and moved independent of each other, but could focus forward like a predator¡¯s when necessary. Powerful jaws containing multiple rows of canines and molars could bite into rock much as Moriah would a steak. Glands hidden under their jaws excreted a strange venom which both softened rock and crystal, but could also crystalize organic matter without killing its victim.


    Some of this information Moriah saw graphically displayed before her. However, much of it surfaced in her mind from her forced knowledge base. She knew that crystal spiders were not arachnids - they were called spiders because they wove a thick cord of silk-soft metal which they strung in large caverns to move freely from side to side and entrance to entrance. However, they did not ¡®spin webs¡¯ nor did they need too as they primarily ate rock, ore and crystal.


    However, they did eat flesh after processing it with their magical venom. Once injected into a victim, it started crystallizing the base cellular structures that made up the victim¡¯s biology. Those unfortunates turned into what were known as crystal zombies. They would hunt and consume anything living, except the spiders themselves. However, they did not usually wander far from their ¡®master,¡¯ following their master around until the spider grew hungry.


    Crystal spiders lived exclusively underground and were able to burrow, passing earth into their bodies and then regurgitating it outside the burrow. Spider tunnels were smooth and all miners avoided them unless they had access to some special, non-metallic armor. Processed metals tended to attract the creatures as fine sources of food.


    Moriah stared into the bubble, frozen. Not good, she thought, her stomach beginning to churn and a wave of cold adrenaline sending shivers into the base of her skull. She let out a startled screech as a pair of hooks snagged the edge of the hole and a ferret-like head hove into view to stare into her lights. Without thinking, Moriah slashed with her lesion knife and the spider fell from its perch with a squeal of pain.


    Moriah held her knife in front of her and hit each spider that tried to come through the hole, sending it crashing back into the bubble below. She had been doing it for several minutes before they stopped coming. Peeking over the side again, she felt certain the mass of monsters had dwindled from when she had first looked, though she could not see any corpses.


    Where did they all go? she wondered, shining her light all around the bubble. About twenty of the dangerous creatures remained, attacking the fenguar ball with great caution. Moriah could see the rear quarters of one spider already half submerged in the plant¡¯s body. Observing the cleanup crew off to one side, a single spider of enormous size crouched , easily ten times the size of the next largest and about the same size as Moriah herself. To either side of that one crouched two other large spiders, a third smaller than the huge one.


    Moriah guessed the large one to be the queen and the two slightly smaller ones her personal guard. The small girl swallowed. Supposedly, if the queen died, the colony perished as well. Moriah rejected the idea forming in her mind. No way now way no way.


    One of the worker spiders attacked the fenguar and the bulb burst, its compressed spores billowing out in a massive, rolling cloud of yellow and black that covered the entire bottom of the bubble. A moment later the workers on the floor of the bubble began staggering this way and that.


    The queen and her guardians sprang into the air, catching a hold of the cords stretched across the cavern and climbing high out of reach of the spore, chittering loudly. Those spiders not already affected by the spores also jumped up and escaped the cloud.


    ¡°Wow. They¡¯re pretty smart,¡± Moriah breathed aloud. It took the spores a full half hour to settle to the floor of the bubble. The spiders descended, careful not to raise spore clouds, and began licking up the spore. One of the first areas cleared was directly under Moriah¡¯s hole and the queen descended to stand there.


    Moriah stared. If she could drop on top of the queen and kill her, the rest of the colony would die and she would be safe for a while. The only problem, aside from attacking a fast, powerful, smart, deadly crystal spider that was as big as she was herself, was that the drop was almost forty feet. The spider wouldn¡¯t need to exert itself at all to kill her.


    ¡°What am I thinking? Stop it,¡± Moriah whispered to herself and bonked herself on the head.


    Noise from the tunnel behind her caught her attention. A moment later more noise from the tunnel ahead of her, on the other side of the hole leading into the bubble. Moriah glanced down her body between her legs, confused. Could something be coming? Had she missed some passage? She was sure she had been paying close enough attention not to have missed one.


    Returning her gaze and light in front of her, she flinched at the spider swarming towards her down the tunnel. Scraping from behind her told her she had been flanked. No time for thought, the small girl panicked and scrambled through the hole, throwing herself downward.


    Falling a short distance, she saw and automatically grabbed one of the spider cords. Dangling for a moment, she swung her body in an attempt to reach the queen, who had moved. Falling again, Moriah arced true, but the queen had turned and raised her snout, jaws open, fangs bared.


    With a squeak of dismay, the child struck out with her lesions knife, wishing it was a lot longer. With a flash, the knife changed it configuration, extending its length to over five feet, and split the queen¡¯s head in half. Her body whipped in reaction, catching the girl and throwing her across the bubble. Slamming against the wall, Moriah slid downward, dazed and numb, leaving a skid trail in the fenguar spore.


    In a strange parody of time and swirling light, made stranger by Moriah¡¯s dazed and warped vision, the crystalline spiders paused, turning as one towards their queen. That great spider thrashed and convulsed, destroying anything within its reach. It continued for a long eternity, each of its subjects watching in frozen immobility.


    As the seconds ticked past, Moriah¡¯s head cleared enough to realize something obscured her vision. She tried to reach up and remove the offending object, but pain shot through her arm and shoulder and she blacked out.


    Chaos and noise greeted her awakening. Confused and irritated by the noise, she forced her eyes open. Bedlam reigned among the spiders, each attacking anything which moved, the skewed scene illuminated by her head lamp lying on a rock a distance from her. Spider devoured spider. Amidst horrified terror, irritation lay forgotten. If any of them decided to attack her, she had no way to defend herself. She had lost the lesion knife when the queen had hit her. Closing her eyes, she waited to die.


    But she did not want to die. She opened her eyes, a determined look crossing her face for none to see. She looked around trying to find the knife in the spore-glow, to no avail. But what she did see was a spider advancing on her.


    With a screech, the spider charged, only to be sideswiped by yet another one. The two bodies rolled over the light, extinguishing it. The clash of metal bodies, liberally smattered with snarling, gnashing, crunching and other assorted sounds of frantic fighting raged around her for the longest time. Rough carapaces scrapped against her too many times to count, tearing clothes and skin alike. But all things end and finally the clashing subsided and then all movement in the bubble ceased.


    Closing her eyes in utter exhaustion, Moriah slept in the light of the dim glowing of crystal stones, surrounded by fenguar spore and dead spiders.

 Chapter 8 - A Bit of Aftermath

    The wooden doors to the mining camp remained closed for over a full day, all quotas waved while crystal spiders raged.  All crystal stored in the depot had been emergency evacuated to the surface, lest the spiders hone in on it and attack the camp itself.


    And then in the middle of the lock down, the spiders began killing themselves.  Less than an hour later, not a single living spider could be detected within the range of the network of wired sensors strung throughout the complex of tunnels.


    The camp doors swung open and the miners were forced out of the camp.  While many avoided the areas where the spiders had been, the braver amongst them had a free for all as they raced to collect spider ore.


    Spider ore was basically the creatures¡¯ bodies.  Any mineral a crystal spider ate was digested and became part of them.  Their skins and internal organs were transformed metal.  Crystal like protrusions covered their bodies.


    But most important, changes occurred in the basic structure of anything spiders digested.  Changes that defied both mundane and mystic science.  It most often simply increased efficiencies by a great degree, such as increasing things like a metal¡¯s ductile strength or conductivity beyond any materials that occurred naturally.  However, a significant portion of the processed substances were altered randomly and completely.  Dense metal might increase its density but float in water like a piece of cork.  Crystals, once shattered into shards, might link across galactic distances with their shards for instant communication or travel via portal construction.  The possibilities were endless.


    Of course, the very real possibility of becoming crystallized zombies destined for consumption was a significant deterrent to mining them, a deterrent that not even embedded compulsions could overcome.  But greed could, so any ore processed by the spiders was worth triple quota and never counted against a quota increase.  It was by far the most valued find by the miners.


    Moriah woke to silence and an aching body.  She half sat, half lay against a wall in a rather awkward position, but the aching of her body turned into intense pain from her shoulder when she thought to move to a more comfortable position.  Still, she forced herself up to a proper sitting position as pain-sweat broke out across her whole body.  Finally she leaned her head on the stone wall behind her and took shaky breathes to regain her composure.


    Once she could focus again, she surveyed what she could see.  The cavern was surprisingly visible, lit up by dimly glowing crystal formation spread across wall and ceiling.  Well, it was not bright enough to even be called dim, but her eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness due to being unconscious so long.


    Pretty, the girl thought.  The crystals glowed in many different colors, reds, greens, amber, purple and so many others.  The strange lighting carpeted the floor with a unique appearance that seemed to ripple gently.


    The girl stared at a rippling ground and smiled with pleasure at the sight.  A chaos of jagged, crystal-like silhouettes jutted out of the floor everywhere she could see, all with the same rippling phenomenon.  They did not glow like the crystals on the walls and ceiling and gave off a slightly sinister vibe to the area.  Only the tinkle of dripping water and Moriah¡¯s breathing disturbed the deep silence in the cavern.


    As she gazed on the scene, she remembered the strange dream.  Unlike most dreams, this one remained more vivid than any waking moment.  It blazed in her mind with infinite power and authority.  She could not, she in fact did not want to deny the truth it revealed.  Her family wanted her to continue living, just like she would have wanted them to live if she had been the one to die.  Her success would be their honor.  Even if it had been a dream, the truth of it struck a permanent chord in her mind.  It gave her back the purpose and hope she had once abandoned.


    After some time passed, the girl tried to move again.  Pain lanced out from her shoulder, once again numbing her body, engulfing her arm.  But she no longer wished to die, so she gritted her teeth and forced herself while whimpering like a kicked puppy.  Gaining her knees, she struggled to stand while cradling her arm.  Taking a moment to ensure her balance, she stepped carefully to where she remembered her light being, praying with her whole might that it had just turned off because she hadn¡¯t been wearing it, which was how it had been designed.


    Bending to pick it up, her head spun and she bruised her knees dropping to the stony ground.  Pain shot through her arm and into her chest as the impact jarred her shoulder.  She bit her lip trying to stop herself from crying.  She whimpered and tears leaked past anyway.


    Several minutes later, she fumbled with the lamp.  Two of the head lamps were broken, but the third blinded her in its brightness.  ¡°Ach!¡± she squealed, squeezing her eyes shut.  Turning the light away from her face and waiting for several long moments, Moriah squinted her eyes open.


    Blinking, she cleared her vision and let out a small curse, blushing at the word.  ¡°Sorry Mom,¡± she muttered.  Still, since the rippling phenomenon was actual a carpet of fenguar growth, she felt somewhat justified for the curse.


    Apparently, the spore she had kicked into the cavern had expanded and covered almost two thirds of the lower quarter of the bubble.  She shuddered and muttered under her breath,  ¡°Now what do I do?¡±


    She could not climb up to the hole she had fallen from, not even if her shoulder was not injured.  She did not know where her lesion knife was.  Crystal spiders were probably going to show up anytime now, or maybe something worse even.  The fenguar was going to want to eat her all too soon.  That stupid gnome was going to be mean to her too, she was certain.  The girl felt tears trickling down her cheeks as her situation began to overwhelm her.


    Moriah raised her good hand to lift her filter mask so she could wipe her eyes clear, but touched her cheek instead.  She disparately ran her hand over her face and head, searching for the missing mask.  There were things even worse than fenguar spore down in the mines it protected from.  Her stomach dropped and she turned to look back where she had lain.  There, laying on a stone as if on formal display lay the mask. The faceplate was shattered and broken, only jagged shards around the edges remaining.


    She stood alone in the cavernous bubble, feeling smaller by the second, finally bursting into wailing tears of fear and frustration.  Stumbling to the broken filter, she tried again and again to get the shattered mask to reseat on her face but could not do it with only one hand.  Hugging it to herself, she continued to sob for several long minutes.


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    Eventually, the mask fell to the ground from her limp hands, raising a puff of spore. Struggling to walk, Moriah avoided the fenguar as best she could and hunted for her lesion knife.  Spider corpses lay all over the cavernous bubble, the crystal ore jutting from their bodies glowing grave markers.


    Gurgle.  Moriah stopped and looked this way and that and then down at her stomach, horrified and feeling betrayed.  How could her stomach make such an awful sound?  Her eyes widened as yet another facet of her situation hit her.  She was lost in the caves without food or water.  She glanced around , her little hands trembling with redoubled fear.  After several moments of fighting the panic, she verbalized her terror, ¡°Am I just going to starve to death now?¡±


    In response to the verbalized question, embedded knowledge kicked into gear, information flooding her mind with essential, lifesaving knowledge.  Right there in the bubble lay a wealth of nutritious food.  Certain parts of crystal spiders were supposed to be delicacies in many parts of the galaxy, as was the fenguar plant.  But she needed her lesion knife to take advantage of either.  She would have to stun the fenguar so she could harvest it, or it would harvest her.  She would have to cut the spiders open in order to access the edible parts, and their carapace like skins were composed of some of the sturdiest materials known.


    With this new flood of knowledge, Moriah lost her desire to find her knife.  She was hungry, but she was not that hungry.  Fenguar spore?  Spider guts?  Gross!  Not that the guts were edible, but she thought it would be better if they were because the edible parts were worse.


    She meandered around the room, looking with little intent to find, which is probably why she found it so quickly.  She was torn between delight and horror that it appeared to be damaged.  On the one hand, she needed the knife to survive the moment, let alone make it back to the camp.  Thus, broke equaled ¡°bad thing.¡±  On the other hand, she did not have to eat fenguar or spider ... stuff.  Thus, beyond any reasonable doubt, broke equaled ¡°good thing.¡±


    Inspecting the damaged knife, Moriah jerked and spun around.  Several trembling moments of peaceful silence passed.  And then the soft scraping noise she had heard before repeated itself.  The child¡¯s mouth turned to cotton and she made a strangled sound of terror.  Switching her light onto its highest setting, she strained to find the source.  It came again.  Moriah dropped to her knees, peeing her pants.  The queen¡¯s corpse had twitched.  More moments ticked past.


    Moriah swallowed and forced herself to stand again.  ¡°I¡¯m a warrior-knight.  I am a warrior knight,¡± the girl chanted under her breath even as she forcefully ignored the cold dampness dribbling down her legs.  She gulped and held the broken knife out in front of her, advancing toward the currently motionless queen.


    A few steps still separated her from her nemesis when the queen jerked.  Moriah froze, unable to move forward.  Unable to flee.  Not even able to fall to her knees again.  Surely it had not come back to life, had it?  Her thoughts raced around in circles, going nowhere.  She did not believe in ghouls.  She would not believe in ghouls!


    Moriah whimpered.


    Suddenly the queen¡¯s tough, crystalline skin split open.  Moriah¡¯s first scream rick-rocketed off the wall of the bubble, followed by no less than ten others.


    Silence descended like an axe.  Moriah stared at the tiniest ferret like creature she had ever seen sitting in the midst of the blossomed body.  The embedded knowledge in her brain once more filled in the gaps and she said, ¡°Oh, you must be the new queen!¡±  Relief washed over her like a cool breeze for a moment as the possibility of a ghoul queen passed.


    But then the new reality facing her shot another shot of adrenaline through her - just because the REALLY bad thing of the old queen becoming a ghoul did not occur, this did not of necessity mean the alternative - a new queen - constituted a good thing.  Forgetting that her lesion knife was broken, she activated it.


    Lesion knives generate their energy fields by the use of three sculpted crystals.  A purple crystal stored massive amounts of energy from which a clear and a pink could draw for their more specialized functions.  The pink crystal generated a pure field of force, much like a traditional force field.  The clear crystal created vibrational energy fields.  The two affects, when combined, could cut almost any material known to exist, both natural and manufactured.


    Patterns of power inscribed inside the handle core controlled these entwined effects.  These glyphs provided direction and focus to the energy so it formed into consistent, useful manifestations.  The glyphs also regulated both the types and quantity of energy released at any given moment.


    The electronic controls built into the handle provided an interface between the glyphs and the user.  They included the on/off switch, basic blade patterns for novice operators, and generic power level controls which were defaulted to the lowest settings to conserve energy.


    The damage to Moriah¡¯s lesion knife lay in its electronic controls, the interface between the user and glyphs.  However, fortunately, or unfortunately depending on one¡¯s point of view, the on/off switch had not been damaged.  Since the interface had been damaged, the glyphs attempted to draw their ¡®instructions¡¯ directly from the operator.  When Moriah activated the knife, she wanted to strike out at the queen.  The knife responded in accordance with that singular focus and the blade shot outwards, covering the yards to the target and bending to strike true.  Because Moriah did not possess knowledge on how any of that worked, she did not try to draw power from the power source.  The glyphs embedded in the lesion knife used the child¡¯s own essence to manipulate and control it.


    The little queen died.


    Moriah stared at the dead queens and then at the knife.  And then back at the queens.


    And then back at the knife.


    And then her world turned black as she collapsed unconscious, all of her energy sucked dry.


    When Moriah woke, it took several long moments for her to remember what had happened and even longer before she could stand, and even then she wobbled.  Hunger now drove her.  She did not think she should use the knife again until she had time to think over what had happened, so she could not harvest the fenguar plant.  That meant she had to eat from the spider.


    Unfortunately, the emergence of the baby queen had opened up that particular food source and Moriah no longer needed the knife.  Trying not to disturb the fenguar as much as possible, the girl looked into the abdomen of the large queen.  Most of its innards were metalized, but she easily identified the edible portions, mostly juices and pulp, from her embedded knowledge provided by those who trainer her to mine.


    ¡°Ugh, so gross!¡± she declared aloud and with great emotion.  She was absolutely starving, her muscled twinging pain as her body consumed them, but was she seriously hungry enough to eat this vile looking concoction?  It glowed a swirling mix of yellow and purple, orange and dark crimson.   She was fair certain there were swirling highlights of black and gold in some of the pulp, and orange and lime green in the juices.


    She shut her eyes tight and wrinkled her nose.  Scooping some of the pulp, she licked it ready to hurl it across the room.  ¡°Oh.  OH.¡±  Her eyes snapped open and she began to grin, ¡°It actually tastes good?¡±


    She leaned against the queen¡¯s body as relieved tension sapped her small strength.  She began eating with more confidence, even trying the juices.  It all tasted way better than it had any right to taste.  Still, she ate either with her eyes shut or averted.  No matter how it tasted, viewing this particular food gave her a strong gage reflex.


    Tick, tick, tack, crack.  Moriah¡¯s snapped her eyes open despite the appearance of the food.  That noise was disturbingly familiar and ever so close.  She found herself staring at three more tiny ferret-like spiders, each about the size of her index finger.  They were sitting within three tiny, broken eggs sequestered deep within the abdomen of the dead queen.  Vaguely she realized that a larger pair of egg-halves in the same area without an occupant.


    She stared at them.  They stared at her.  No one and nothing moved.

 Chapter 9 - When in Doubt, Test It

    The three infant warrior-peers stared at the strange creature before them. Though newborn infants, their ancestral memories declared her an enemy and a source of adequate food if processed properly. However, she acted the Queen. Memory from their mother¡¯s last moments said she had killed the old queen, and now she ate from the queen¡¯s body. These were the actions of a rival queen.


    But something else confused them even more than the disparity of a prey acting as a rival queen. They could not sense their queen-peer at all, but the strange fake queen creature before them felt somehow acceptable. The three warrior-peers conferred one with the other via their telepathic peer-link. Unlike verbal language, complete sets of ideas and emotions transferred in an instant.


    Though newborn, they came to a conclusion. Their queen-peer was not. She had perished as their mother-queen had perished. Further, this pseudo-rival-queen creature seemed to indeed possess the quality of a true-queen. They would test it and see if it was able. Thus they initiated the ritual of bonding as per their ancestral memories, that which would bind them to their queen-peer, or to a conquering rival-queen.


    Warrior-peers only ever made one free will decision in their lives, and that at the beginning of their lives. They chose whether to serve the new queen or not. If they rejected the queen, whether peer or rival, they would attack and attempt to kill. Even if the rejected one managed to defeat them, which rarely happened with a peer and always happened with a rival, it did not matter. This was their choice to make and could not be denied them.


    The ritual of binding awakened a peer-queen. All newborn queens were blind and chained. They could not perceive the world as all of their kind were meant to see. They could not communicate with the warrior-peers nor any of their kind. They could not command nor rule as a queen must.


    The ¡°ritual of bonding¡± used the mystic energies of mind and magic newborn warrior-peers accumulated while dormant in their mother-queen¡¯s body to open the pathways in the mind of the queen. This allowed her to establish her mental link with her peers, binding their minds to her own. She would then convey her commands to her peers, and all of her children, through this link. Ever after, the queen¡¯s brood would be mere extensions of her own self, her rule over her brood absolute. That was why when a queen died, the entire brood collapsed and destroyed itself.


    For rival queens, new pathways could be opened, or old ones strengthened.


    However, unbound warrior -peers would never abide a weak-minded queen Whenever the initial link between peers and queen-candidate initiated, the candidate had to possess a greater will than the combined will of the peers. If she did not, they would reject her even if found to otherwise be acceptable.


    All this the peers knew by instinct. Moriah knew nothing.


    Moriah stared at the three spiders, not sure what to do. She had set the lesion knife down to eat and fear held her motionless, her hands refusing to move toward the discarded weapon. Something inside her skull began itching. She wanted to scratch, but her hands and arms simply refused to move. Her injured arm and shoulder started throbbing. The itching intensified, partially overcoming her immobility, and she managed to raise her good, goo slimed hand, to rub her head. The three infant spiders did not move.


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    The peers grew more confused. The fake-rival-queen¡¯s mind differed from what ought to be. The pathways lay in strange patterns, far different from where their ancestral memories placed them. While deviations happened, these pathways were weird beyond anything ever encountered.


    This pathway should be here. It was not. No, a completely different pathway lay there where it ought not.


    That pathway should not be in such a place, but they recognized its flavor. Though it should be over there, still they recognized it as something to be opened.


    ! Such a pathway as that one no queen had ever possessed. Should it be opened? Should it be kept closed? Should it be given a maturity delay? They did not know. They were confused. They were unsure.


    And still more mysteries assaulted the warrior-peers. Things right. Things wrong. Things weird and new and confusing. It was all so strange and new. They hesitated, unsure what to do. They sought refuge in their ancestral memories. New had been encountered before. If something was new and unknown, never before encountered, test it. Allow it to exist and determine through that queen¡¯s life if it should be allowed or disallowed. The three warrior-peers made their decision in unity. They would test the new. They would open all of the pathways of this fake-rival-queen.


    And so the three tiny creatures each with their uniquely powerful minds acted.


    Moriah¡¯s eyes bugged out and she gasped as the itching intensified by immeasurable degrees. She staggered, her arm slipping into gut juices. No longer caring about the spiders or her injured shoulder, Moriah dropped to her knees and threw her head back, befouled fingers clawing the sides of her head. Tears of salt and blood flowed from her eyes. Bloody snot flowed from her nostrils. Blood and fluid flowed from her ears and spewed from her mouth. She screamed and gurgled and coughed more blood.


    Her world darkened, spiders and glowing spore fading from sight and mind. Only the flashing visions of her dream, of her family and the memory of her promise to live allowed her to struggle against the agony. Scorching pain. Blazing fire and freezing cold. Flames and ice and jagged sandpaper roaring against every nerve and fiber of mind and body. Through it all, she clung with all her tiny might to her promise. To her familial oath to live and become a great warrior-knight, even if that silly title was one of her own childish whimsy.


    She held onto that promise-oath with all her little might, and fought the darkness to the end, never once relenting.


    The warrior-peers shuddered, exhaustion and determination of purpose wracking the tiny bodies and powerful minds. That pathway had not been there a moment ago. Nor had that one. Additional pathways appeared even as both the old and new, unknown ones opened. The peers had made a decision - open all of the fake-rival-queen¡¯s pathways. They forcefully opened the new ones, but it was becoming difficult. It was ever so strange. When they opened certain pathways, it revealed still more pathways. Layer upon layer, it seemed to never end. It seemed as if their task would never end.


    The horrifying strange queen-candidate squealed and wailed and thrashed, clothed in a glowing aura of many colors. The fake-rival-queen creature frothed at the mouth in an undignified display of agony. The minds of the little peers loomed over the creature¡¯s strange mind-scape, enormous and determined. Memories of their ancestors mixed with the strange creature¡¯s own unique past. They all began to lose the ability to reason, yet the little spiders persevered. They clung desperately to their decision, no longer able to think enough to overturn it. They would complete it to the end and see if this false-one was truly suitable. Was she a queen? Was she not a queen? They would know the answer to this mystery.


    Finally the last pathway opened, but a moment later the biggest pathway yet revealed itself. The peers exhausted beyond all memory had made a decision. They would complete that task. Nothing would deny them. Nothing would deny them!


    They struggled and strove with all their queen-mother empowered might to force this enormous pathway open. It opened. The soul that looked back at them lay immense before them, something that was greater than any queen in their ancient memories. Overwhelmed, all three warrior-peers submitted to the will of their beloved queen. All at once a great force slammed into the three tiny warrior-peers, stunning them unconscious as Moriah¡¯s mind adjusted to protect herself.

 Chapter 10 - The Peers are Twits

    Moriah woke. Her eyes fluttered open as her mind engaged and she started remembering. Crystals glowed above her as she lay on her back staring upwards. She remembered the queen almost becoming a zombie, but then opening up to give birth to four new queens.


    No that was not right. A queen and her warrior-peers. The girl felt a mild confusion at the back of her mind as to how she knew that, but ignored it as she pursued her thoughts.


    The warrior peers had attacked her somehow. That had hurt way too much, she decided. No, wait, they did not attack, right? They tested? Yeah, something like they evaluated me. ¡°Huh,¡± she grunted aloud as her thoughts chased each other in her mind. ¡°Well, I¡¯m still alive, so does that mean they were okay with what they found? Really, why do I even know all of this?¡±


    Something on her stomach attracted her attention, but even though she tried to move her head to look down, she just kept staring up at the ceiling without so much as a twitch. She moved her eyes down without moving her head and thought she saw something move. A moment later she felt something prick her jaw and a tiny head popped up. And then a few more pricks and three tiny crystal spiders . . . . Nope, those are totally ferrets. Who the heck started calling them spiders anyway? I am so calling them ferrets from now on. So, three tiny crystal ferrets were now standing on her face.


    She stared into the oversized eyes which took up half their tiny faces. Still half awake and befuddled from everything that had happened to her, she still knew these three: Radar, Jonal, Xian. They were the warrior-peers that had attacked, er evaluated her.


    And as her gaze fully settled upon them, she saw herself reflected in them. The image of herself wavered and abruptly a multitude of different scenes and images flickered in her mind¡¯s eye. Moriah sucked in air as memories of many multiples of broods threatened to overwhelm her through her newly formed link with the three infant peers.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± she groaned. She closed her eyes, but that did not stop the deluge. Eye contact had initiated it, but apparently was not at all necessary for the process. Her hands twitched and she found she could move them, if slowly. She brought her good hand up and rubbed her temples. She wished they would take it slower themselves, that is, she wanted the peers to flood her mind with their information a bit more piecemeal.


    And the deluge changed to a soft, steady stream.


    Moriah let out a sigh of relief and opened her eyes again. She shifted her hand from her temple and gently touched each peer on its head with her index finger. She really did now their names. None of them had protrusions on their bodies, but she could still tell them apart. Radar¡¯s skin was a light blue and a bit transparent. Its cute little snout was a bit shorter than the other two, and its eyes very dimly shone bright red. Jonal¡¯s skin was also blue, but a bit darker and not transparent at all. His ears were larger than the other two, and his left one was slightly flopped forward. His eyes dimly shone a rich green. And finally, Xian¡¯s skin was black and a bit transparent like Radar¡¯s. His eyes dimly shone a brilliant metallic blue. His tiny ears were quite expressive, twitching this way and that as he stared are her with intense excitement.


    Moriah dropped her fingers to touch her cheek and willed the three creatures onto the back of her hand. They transferred without complaint or hesitation. The girl grunted and groaned as she then struggled to sit up. Once sitting with her back supported by a boulder, she placed her peers onto her lap.


    The child¡¯s eyes widened as that hit her like a load of bricks dropped from a cliff. These three had accepted her as their queen. They were her peers. Her warrior-peers. She was their queen.


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    ¡°I¡¯m a queen, huh,¡± she muttered. That was so weird, no matter how you looked at it. ¡°That totally came out of nowhere, right?¡±


    She gently, lovingly scratched each of their heads. ¡°You guys are actually pretty darn cute, aren¡¯t you.¡± She sighed, her scratchy eyes drooping.


    The three hissed at her when she began to slide back into unconsciousness.


    Moriah eyes snapped open and she snapped her first command. ¡°Don¡¯t ever try to bite me, do you understand?¡± The force of the command staggered the immature minds of the small crystal ferrets. Never had such a powerful, concise and overwhelming command been given by a queen, as none of them had ever used a spoken language before. They cowered in submission.


    After several minutes, Moriah struggled to stand again and staggered to the old queen to eat, sharing the bounty with her new guardians. Xian paused in his feasting and looked at his queen. You are wounded, he conveyed. You should heal yourself. As queen, you may do this. He began eating again, having fulfilled his duty in informing his queen of her ability.


    Moriah stared at the little spider, perplexed. She knew that he understood the difference in their race, so why did he think that she had the abilities of a true crystal queen? Frowning, she ate a little more, glancing at Xian narrowly. Finally she sighed. The twirp¡¯s self-assured confidence would not allow her any peace until she tried. He was so absolutely sure she could do it because she was his queen.


    She sat down away from the fenguar and held her arm tight against her body. Closing her eyes, she thought how wonderful it would be if her arm stopped hurting and got all better. She thought this for a long time. Snorting, she opened her eyes. ¡°See, you twirp? It didn¡¯t work.¡± She moved her arm to prove, braced for the pain. She raised it all the way over her head before she realized that it no longer hurt at all. Moving it this way and that, she gasped and stared at Xian. As a queen, she could not apologize for not believing him, but she felt sorry all the same and determined to listen better to her peers next time.


    Standing, she moved back to the dead queen and ate some more. The spider gunk really did taste good. She wondered if the fenguar would be good too. Taking the lesion knife, she gathered up a pile of spore and fried it well done, pleased that the knife obeyed the picture she formed in her mind. While the spore remained inert (not carnivorous) until it germinated, she did not want to take any chances. She did not want to be eaten from the inside out.


    Tasting a bit, Moriah gagged. ¡°Yuck! Awful.¡± It tasted like a cross between desert sage brush and kerosine. She stuck out her tongue and tried to wipe the stuff off with her sleeve. Still, she remembered that it had some really good benefits to eating, so after a moment forced herself to eat a little more. ¡°Not near hungry enough for this,¡± she gagged and wiped her tongue again and then scooped spider gunk to wash the disgusting taste from her mouth. ¡°I need water. W-A-T-E-R.¡± She danced around fanning her mouth, her tongue and lips burning and feeling larger than they ought.


    She scrambled over rocks and out a tunnel, the path to a nearby pool of water appearing in her mind. The peers caught a ride hooked onto her clothes. Glad I can remember this stuff, Moriah thought, though it confused her since it did not feel like she had ever been to the pool. Plus, the perspective of her memory seemed wrong. And other crystal ferrets had been there, larger ones. She did not remember going to the spring before, yet she did, she thought, maybe. Shaking her head to clear the confusion, she stood in the cavern entrance where the pool lay.


    The water glistened just like she remembered, fed by both hot and cold springs of fresh water. Slurping water from the cold spring to quench the fire in her mouth, she tried to think.


    More memories assaulted her sanity, memories of giving birth, of eating crystal, of exploring caverns and tunnels, of fighting other queens and peers, losing and winning, of peers and children and death. Everywhere she looked, every turn of her thoughts overlaps with ever too much information and her consciousness began to fade.


    ¡°No! I am Moriah LauTrebuea.¡± Moriah screamed, clutching the hair at her temples and shook her head back and forth, muttering to herself to retain her identity. ¡°My father and mother are musicians. I love music. I am a warrior. I am a girl. I have human brothers and sisters. Human. I am HUMAN.¡± She dropped to her knees, smashing her hands into the ground. The memories continued to attack her mind and sanity despite the pain from her hands, so she began smacking her forehead against the ground too, until blood ran free and she knocked herself out.

 Chapter 11 - A Legend

    When Moriah woke again, the memories from the previous broods of crystal ferrets still assaulted her, but seemed more manageable, her unconscious mind having categorized the many images and memories swimming behind her eyes.  For instance, she could now recognize that each memory from each queen actually had a bazillion points of view at any given moment, to be precise, one point of view for the queen, for each of her peers and for every single freaking one of her children.  If a queen had five peers and twenty children, then twenty-six points of view for every single memory.  And if two peers and two thousand children were in the brood - yeah, the human mind simply was not designed to parallel process that much simultaneous information and it still confounded her brain.  It plain old hurt her brain.


    The three peers crooned at her face as she worked on not thinking about the memories, clearly worried.  Her voice quivered and she stuttered when she tried to reassure them.  ¡°I, I¡¯m alright, I think.¡±  She strained to keep her thoughts on track.  Just that little bit of disciplined redirection eased the strain on her mind.  ¡°I think. . .  I think I¡¯m remembering the lives of all your former queens.  How can they think like that?¡±  She stared at her peers, who watched her with oversized eyes, their concern blazing obvious to her through her mental connection with them.  She completely understood them, probably better than herself since she like to live in self-denial.  Still, the difference in their way of thinking made her light headed too.  ¡°I¡¯m getting alright now, I think,¡± she repeated herself.  She really did believe that she was starting to recover from the weirdness, even if she still had a long way to go.  ¡°It¡¯s all a little overwhelming is all.¡±


    Since the link worked both ways, the peers were reassured by her unfounded confidence, but also even more worried because of her unfounded confidence.


    Moria sat up, raising bruised and aching hand to blood dried forehead.  Since talking to the peers verbally really had alleviated a lot of the pressure on her mind, she continued even if it meant repeating herself due to her numbed thinking.  ¡°I think I must have access to your memories somehow and you must be able to remember what happened to your ancestors.  Or something like that.¡±  She wrinkled her nose and stood, declaring in a matter-of-fact voice,  ¡°Anyway.  I smell like pee and I can¡¯t take it anymore.  Since I¡¯ve found this nice hot spring, I¡¯m soooo taking a bath and washing my clothes.¡±  And as she began to move with purpose, the onslaught of memories tapered off even more.


    Finding a spot in the pool where the hot and cold water mingled to a good temperature, she waded in without taking her coveralls off.  However, she decided she could not clean them well enough while wearing them, so struggled out of the wet garment.  Scrubbing them with gravel, she rung the coveralls and her undergarments out thoroughly and draped them over a large rock.


    However, In the short time she was out of the water, her teeth began to chatter.  She clutched her arms across her stomach and hurried back into the warm water of the hot spring.  After several moments, her teeth settled and she scrubbed herself with gravel dirt from the bottom of the clear pool.  Once satisfied, she settled to the level of her chin and basked in the hot water.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she muttered under her breath after some minutes of pleasant relaxation, fog billowing just over the steaming pool.  She stared at her wet clothing on the rocks not far distant.  ¡°I think I goofed.¡±  She sank deeper to her the level of her eyes and blew bubbles in the water.  She wondered just how long it would take for them to dry in the chilly subterranean air.


    Finally, with the ever-present threat of the memories eating at the edges of her mind and needing to hold them at bay, she began to sing.


    In the mine proper, the ¡°Ker incident¡± with its final harvest of spider carcasses dwindled into distant memory.  Because of the quantity of high value production during that time, the commander met his own quota, even exceeding it in certain significant ways.  Thus he graciously waved the punishment for Moriah¡¯s death.


    Life in the mines returned to normal.  Production dropped with the spider corpses mined out, but remained higher than pre-Ker levels due to the continued production from the Mother Lode.  Even with both Ker and Hank dead, the single remaining scrambler still produced well.


    Klorachamol¡¯s leash holder pulled him out of the mine occasionally, and the assassin invariably returned in a foul mood.  Jenna tried to console him with only marginal successful.


    Jenna herself found that she missed the strange girl.  Not only because of the added tension and excitement that one¡¯s silent presence had generated, but also because Klorachamol seemed to have attached to her.  He had gentled a little during that time, only to harden even more than before with her death.


    The priestess Karen had kept the two bet-scrolls inscribed by the gnarly men since the winner had died.  Corko did not contest the matter and both dwarves had begun disappearing into the mines for longer and longer periods of time.


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    Klierallan made no appearances, an unseen presence as he had been prior to the strange girl¡¯s appearance.  This both relieved and worried those who knew about the elf, since they knew Ker¡¯s death had upset him greatly.  For some reason, he had valued the small girl.


    Life continued on, and times and seasons passed the same today as yesterday as tomorrow.


    Shaskie sneezed, her small kytosine snout wrinkling into a funny expression.  She was one of a number of scramblers sent down into the mine over the last couple of years.  Currently the scrambling team numbered five, thanks to a small human boy-child recently come down.  While she was still fairly new to scrambling, her small cat-like quadrupedal form was practically custom designed for the job.  She had yet to fully adjust to the damp earthen smells of the mine, having grown up on a plain with wide open skies, but she thought she was doing okay, all things considered.  Her current regret was that she did not have enough food to change into her upright, more human-like form.  Things would be so much easier if she had hands and a mouth that could speak properly.  She so planned to earn enough credit to get more food!


    Her long tail swished behind her in feline agitation.  Both it and the rest of her cat form were covered in short, reddish hair, though it was all dulled by the ever-present dirt of the underground tunnels.  Currently stretched out in one of those tunnels taking a break, the kytosine licked the fur on her forepaw in absent habit.


    I really wish I could adjust my body to stand upright again, she grumbled in her own thoughts.  She let out a disgruntled half-growl, half yowl to verbalize her pique.  Knowing it required more energy than she had to spare in order to change from her four footed felidae form to her upright andrae form just rankled.  It normally did not take near as much as it did down in this place, but with all the magical radiation down here, the transformation was way harder than it otherwise should have been.  Still, she liked her andrae form.


    After a short rest, she rose and prowled further down the tunnel, her headlamp revealing red veins of earth running parallel to glittering silver ones.  Nothing valuable, the silver coloring notwithstanding.  However, a couple of hours later, she found a clumping of several crystal clusters glowing a nice shade of purple.


    Marking the location on her navigation chip, she returned to her starting point, a small hole high in a larger tunnel¡¯s wall.  Springing to the larger tunnel¡¯s floor from the high opening, she growled up at the human waiting for her.


    ¡°Did you find anything this time?¡±  Restorm squatted and scratched the head of the miniature panther like cat, no bigger than a rusty colored tabby.  Shaskie purred in response to the pleasant feeling of the scritches.


    The black-haired human retrieved the navigation chip, inserted it into a stone reader and scanned its content.  ¡°Not bad.  I¡¯ll report this to Rocklite so he can arrange retrieval.¡±  The gnome had become the senior scrambler by default.  Since Ker¡¯s death, the guards had given him a great deal of authority over all the scramblers, making them a distinct team of their own instead of a bunch of individuals.


    Restorm stood.  ¡°Too bad you can¡¯t mine them yourself, but even then, I doubt they would issue you enough food to morph very often.¡±  He knew about her private desire because she had well and clearly publicized it to anyone willing to listen to her.


    Shaskie sneezed again and rubbed her whiskers with both paws.  Lisping in her felidae form, she replied, ¡°I would very vuch like to change, vut I cale to the sale conclusion.¡±


    ¡°You came to the same conclusion?¡± Restorm grinned down at the adolescent.  ¡°If you can discover a rich find, something like what Ker found on her first venture, they would probably provide you as much extra food as heart could desire.¡±  He smiled at the kyt.  ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll let you know now; I¡¯ve been saving my extra ration chits.  Karen and a few others too.  We¡¯ll get there eventually, where you¡¯ll be able to change at least occasionally.  Just be careful of becoming indebted.  That would be bad down here.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Shaskie grimaced, lifting her lips in a small snarl.  She hated talking Emerite in this form because she could not make any bilabial sounds.  Her felidae lips just were not made to compress together like that.  She could make most of the other sounds, but she had to work extra hard to get some of those right too.  Still, her curiosity perked at the mention of the mysterious legend of Ker and she could not quite resist.  ¡°Restrol?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±  The man paused, having started to turn away.


    ¡°Tell le avout this Ker .¡±


    Restorm chuckled and sat down on a convenient rock.  ¡°Ah, the legendary Ker.  I make light reference to her and you have not heard enough stories yet, eh?  Well, I would think it all happened about a year or three ago.¡±  The man paused, glancing up at the ceiling.  ¡°It¡¯s really hard to keep track of time, huh.  Well, somewhere around that long ago, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Restorm then told the kyt about the events that made up the Ker legend, finishing with a warning.  ¡°Be careful when talking about her around the guards.  They¡¯re still quite touchy about it since she became known as the Shift Changer in the short time she was here.  And for heaven¡¯s sake, don¡¯t bring the subject up around Klorachamol.  He¡¯s the mahogany colored man with black hair who bunks with the two dwarves, Jenjen and Corko.  He gets surely and is more likely to kill you as stalk away.¡±


    ¡°Did he like her?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose so.  One does not think of a man such as him having affection for a child, but I almost think he came to care for the girl as a daughter, or something.¡±  Restorm laughed.  ¡°Even more amazing since the girl returned nothing for his affection.¡±


    ¡°Sad.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is a little sad,¡± Restorm agreed.  Standing again, he brushed off his coveralls by habit.  ¡°Well, we should head back.  Reporting this find will meet your discovery quota.¡±  Shaskie meowed in response, tired of speaking the difficult language.

 Chapter 12 - A Meeting of Kyt and Ker

    Moriah sat on a rock in her nest cavern, her musical voice singing an old song of her father¡¯s.  Interestingly enough, once she had finally assimilated the ancestral memories, her own personal memories had opened up to her as well.  She smiled whimsically as she remembered family.  She cherished every memory, those of peace, those of conflict.  And of course, she remembered all the music her very musical family had exposed her to.


    She liked the song she currently sung as it was full of those memories, but not nearly as much as her peers did.  Those worthies lay stretched out on rocks in front of her, many times bigger than at birth.  Back then all three fit into the palm of a single of her tiny hands.  Now only one could fit, its tail hanging down her wrist.  Additionally, armored skin had tiny crystals starting to grow from them, each dimly glowing this or that color.  Their eyes glowed brighter than their bodies though, and were in fact the brightest light sources in the cavern.  Moriah¡¯s damaged lamp had stopped working a long time ago.


    Moriah watched the armored peers with royal pride.  She had been vaguely aware due to the ancestral memories that they were destined to retarded growth because she could not, being a different species, provide the kind of physical stimulus necessary for them to mature.  But back on that first fiasco of a bath, when she had sung to help suppress the overwhelming deluge of ancestral memories, she found a rather unexpected workaround.


    She remembered she had grinned to herself as she began to sing, thinking she would become the renowned singing warrior-knight.  Her thoughts had even turned to making a flute or something stringed.  It was, after all, the family rule that any instrument they learned to play, they had to learn the basics of how they were made.  Before that fateful night, she had in fact been at least adequate in both the piano and piccolo.


    Well, she had never actually made those instruments, but she at least knew the basics of what it might take to create one or the other.  And knowing those basics she felt confident she could make something at least okay.


    And so she had sung being distracted by inane thoughts and the pressures of the newly acquired memories of so many queens.  She remembered the infant peers crouching unmoving on the bank of the pool.  She was distracted, so she felt at least a little defensive that she had not realized that they had actually frozen from the first note.


    She had been new to the whole ¡®queen¡¯ thing too, so who could blame her if she failed to properly pay attention to her connection with them.  She was better about that kind of stuff now.


    So, anyway, the peers had frozen and were thinking weird thoughts about their queen.  In particular they thought, This sound that our queen makes is very, ever so very much intriguing. It had in fact utterly mesmerized them.  Never in all their memories had their ancestors experienced anything like it.  They found it intoxicating.  Moriah sang for several moments, lost in her own memories of happier times, oblivious to the peers¡¯ reaction, but then something invaded her awareness and she focused on them, her eyes blinking rapidly what they saw.


    A mesh of colorful energy rushed through and over their small bodies, every color of the rainbow, and some never seen in one.  Energy built in and around them until it reached a crescendo and they began their first molting, which normally occurred shortly after the first mating.  They shed their soft baby skins and grew adolescent armor.


    Moriah¡¯s song faded to silence as memories of something similar happening overlapped her sight.  It confused her, but it also informed her.


    ¡°First molting,¡± she whispered, eyes widening, her face flushed with pleasure.  She had been worried they would never have a first molting because of her inadequacy.  She grinned silly at them, overjoyed they would not be stunted midgets their entire lives.


    That had been an eternity ago.  She sang to them often now and they always responded by glowing in some manner or another, if only their eyes.  She thought they became stronger after each session, though they did not go through another molting.  She thought too many molts in a short period of time could harm them, though it never occurred to her to hold fewer concerts.


    Finishing her current song, she stood.  ¡°Okay boys, it¡¯s time to go hunting.¡±  The dead crystal ferrets had kept indefinitely in the cold caverns protected by their carapaces until she opened their armored corpses.  However, that source of food had finally been exhausted a few days ago.  The original fenguar colony dropped into the old queen¡¯s nest had also been consumed, but Moriah knew of several other colonies she could harvest.


    She would rather eat dirt like the boys than have a daily menu of fenguar mold.


    As always on her explorations, Moriah took a couple of long cords of ferret silk, which she crisscrossed from shoulder to hip over her tattered and oft resized coveralls.  She used shorter lengths to tie her silvery, shoulder length hair out of her face.  The cord weighed next to nothing, which amazed and pleased the child.  Still, she always carried heavy ore with her as she did everything with the goal of becoming a warrior-knight.  ¡°If I carry lots of weight all the time, I will grow stronger!¡±  She talked to herself a lot too.


    Moria chose a number of heavy ore chunks and stuck them into her pockets and then she and her three peers headed out to hunt her some food.  They were not gone five minutes before she regretted the ore.  Ten minutes and she knew it had been a very bad idea.  Fifteen minutes and she discarded the ore altogether, wondering what she had been thinking.


    That, of course, reminded her what she had been thinking and she recovered the ore, disgruntled, and continued to trudge.  ¡°Always the same sequence.  Why can¡¯t I just remember from the beginning,¡± she muttered.  The peers¡¯ laughter echoed in her mind and she smirked at them.


    Crawling, walking and climbing with the three ferrets for a long time, Moriah had numerous opportunities to use the silk line she carried.  Finally they discovered the recent spore from something she could eat.  At least, the peers thought she could eat it.  ¡°You guys are so encouraging,¡± Moriah grumbled under her breath, wondering what kind of creature other than crystal ferrets inhabited tunnels so deep underground.  There were a few, of course, since she still had the information crammed into her head.  She hoped whatever it was would be safe for her to hunt.


    They tracked the what-ever-it-was for a long time, winding through passages and several wormholes, turning this way and that.  ¡°It knows we¡¯re hunting it,¡± Moriah murmured, though she really suspected the peers of having fun at her expense.  Some of those passages she had wormed through had been ridiculously narrow and she was not nearly as small as when she first came to the caverns.


    Moriah peeked from a small tunnel set high in the wall of a much larger passage with glee.  This new passage would allow her to stand upright.  About to climb out of the small hole, Radar hissed, warning that something dangerous approached.  Moriah froze, listening.


    The tunnel to the left brightened and Moriah could hear voices, though not words.  A fog of emotion rolled down the tunnel.  Moriah felt angry, enraged even, yet the rage lay beside a calm curiosity and excitement.  Moriah recognized the sensation as similar to when she experienced the emotions of the peers, but not the same exactly - richer, more complex, but also more muted and distant.  She could push the foreign anger away and recognize it as something not her own much easier than with the peers, though her hands trembled with adrenaline reaction.


    The brightening haloed one end of the larger tunnel.  The voices grew in sharpness.  And then the brightened tunnel dimmed and the voices faded even quicker.  Moriah swallowed and wet her lips.  Those had to be miners, which meant she could go back to the mine.  All she had to do was catch up to them.


    The three peers caught the gist of her thoughts and crooned, nudging Moriah with their snouts.  Realization struck her, ¡°Oh dear,¡± she whispered, ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.  I had not thought about you guys.¡±  She knew beyond any reasonable doubt the crystal ferrets would not be welcome in the camp.  ¡°I think . . . .¡±  She sighed.  ¡°I think I should hold off.  We should abandon the hunt for today.  I will just have to eat another helping of fenguar from one of those colonies.¡±  She almost convinced herself to race after the miners after all.  ¡°I just wish that foul stuff tasted better with familiarity.¡±


    Moriah¡¯s world went white and pain lanced straight into her mind through her eyes.  Instinctively, she covered her eyes with both hands and cried out in agony.  The three peers snarled, swarming past their queen to attack the threat, pushing the pain Moriah projected to them into adrenaline anger.  The light turned away and fled down the tunnel to the right.


    The pain from the bright light receded, and then the large white spots in her eyes faded as well as her queen¡¯s healing kicked in, undoing the damage to her eyes.  She called the peers back to her side, scrambling out of the hole to change directions.  The four then returned to Moriah¡¯s nest cavern.


    The great wooden doors opened after several hours, the spiders having vanished from the sensor grid.  As with all spider scares, all miners left the camp under duress, the threat of the guards¡¯ wrath an overshadowing terror.  Shaskie had not seen the spiders, but the rumor ran that these latest ones had been strange, more aggressive than normal.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry so much, Shaskie,¡± Karen soothed, brushing a stray tuft of blond hair from her pale face.  Long faced with a full nose and blue eyes, the priestess of the High Lord moved with feminine grace down the tunnel, the kyt padding between her and Restorm.  ¡°Crystal spiders don¡¯t normally attack us.  They eat ore and rock.¡±


    ¡°Vut they chased. . .¡± She growled.


    Taking mercy on the young kyt, Restorm provided the words for the protest.  ¡°But they chased Bubkam?  That¡¯s true, but he claims they gave a great cry as if in pain just before they swarmed out of that tunnel.  If he startled them or caused them pain, they would have attacked of course.¡±


    ¡°Vut,¡± Shaskie complained.


    ¡°But nothing.  I know it¡¯s scary, but if Bubkam can outrun them, you won¡¯t have any trouble.  Spiders are not made for speed, seeing that their natural prey moves very slowly.¡±  They all laughed, Shaskie feeling a little less nervous.  ¡°However, even if they moved faster, you would have more chance against them than the guards.¡±  The laughter died away, though the mood still retained a lighter flavor than before.


    ¡°Greetings, Priestess Karen, Captain Restorm.¡±  Jenjen¡¯s jolly voice filled the tunnel, Corko walking beside his cousin.  ¡°And who be the kytosine at thy feet?¡±


    ¡°Greetings to you Jenjen, Corko,¡± both Restorm and Karen replied, inclining their heads respectfully.  Karen continued, ¡°It¡¯s good to see you two gnarlies again.  This small one is Shaskie.  She came down to the mines about four months ago.  You¡¯ve been staying out of the camp longer and longer since Ker passed.¡±


    ¡°Aye.  Good earth.  Strong earth.  This place could support a clan for many generations,¡± Jenjen replied.  ¡°Many tunnels lay beyond maps of guards.  Where be your destination?¡±  Jenjen stared a moment longer at Shaskie and then returned his attention to the two humans.


    ¡°Just going out, what with the spider sighting and all.  Same ole, same ole,¡± Restorm answered, waving his hand in dismissal.


    ¡°Yes.  These new spiders, Corko and I sensed.¡±  Jenjen paused and then harrumphed and looked down at Shaskie again.  ¡°Perhaps this one could serve us for a time.  We would pay a month of quota.¡±


    Shaskie looked back and forth between the two massive dwarves, confused.  ¡°What?¡±


    Jenjen hesitated, unsure what the kytosine had said as the pronunciation was a little off, but then puzzled it out.  ¡°Ah.  Curious flavor these earth eaters have.  Earth as their kind flows, but, hmm, also water and wind, snow and tang.  Others too.  It is a curio.  More information we wish to have.¡±  Jenjen displayed a glowing pink crystal about the size of a pinky nail.  ¡°To please find the earth eaters for a brief moment, record their essence for investigation.¡±


    Shaskie crouched, her tail lashing from side to side in agitation.  She did not want to hunt spiders at all, however, the thought of bringing in crystal for herself appealed to her.  A quiet nagging in the back of her mind made her uncomfortable about not personally bringing in crystal ore for herself.  Just discovering deposits did not feel right.  ¡°How?¡±


    In short order Shaskie found herself at the site where the spiders had been seen.  She recognized the tunnel as one she had explored just that morning.  Picking up their scent from the tracks in the larger tunnel, she requested Restorm to once again lift her to the hole high in the passage¡¯s wall.  As soon as the captain raised her up, human scent assailed her nose to almost overwhelm the spiders¡¯ scent.


    Shaskie turned her head and reported the human scent.  ¡°Huvan.  I slell huvan.¡±  Curious now, she did not wait for a response but moved into the tunnel.  The trail split off after a half hour or so, but Shaskie had no trouble distinguishing the older from the fresher.


    Entering a large bubble, Shaskie paused.  ¡°Please turn off your light.¡±  Shaskie jumped, her heart skipping two beats, not just one, as it suddenly occupied her mouth instead of her chest.  She dropped into a crouch, ready to spring in any direction conceivable to escape the threat.  The voice spoke again.  ¡°Please, the light is to bright and hurts my eyes.  I am not used to it.¡±


    ¡°Vuth I won¡¯t ve avle to see,¡± Shaskie complained even as three ferret like spiders rose from concealment on the other side of the cavern, large eyes shielded by armored eyelids.  ¡°The sfiders will get me,¡± she added, though stumbled over the difficult word ¡°spider.¡±


    ¡°They will behave, I promise,¡± Moriah assured the light bearer, unable to even look in the direction of directly lit cavern, let alone see who or what carried it.


    Shaskie hesitated, but then warned, ¡°I can hear them if they move, so stay over there.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Moriah agreed.  ¡°Please, just turn off the light.¡±


    The kytosine complied, her ears twitching back and forth searching for any sound of approach.  ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Moriah did not answer immediately.  Once the light vanished, the peers fully opened their eyes and Moriah used her queen-peer link to see who had entered her domain, her own eyes recovering more slowly to the dim crystal glow.  ¡°You first.¡±


    Shaskie¡¯s tail lashed back and forth, but she did not want to anger whoever this person was.  She had never heard of anyone living with crystal spiders as anything other than crystalized zombie food.  She doubted such creatures could talk or reason.


    ¡°My nave¡¯s Shaskie.  I scraffle to discover ore and crystal.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re from the slave camp?¡± Moriah asked, though even as the words passed her lips it occurred to her that if the cat-like creature was a scrambler, she would be from nowhere else.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a nine.  We¡¯re not slaves.  Er, are you frog there too?¡±  Shaskie¡¯s tail stilled, though not her ears.


    A pause.  ¡°You¡¯re hard to understand, but yes, though it¡¯s been a while I suppose.  I didn¡¯t ever think to find it again, to tell the truth.  Are you a kytosine?¡±  Moriah asked, voice intense with curiosity.  ¡°I¡¯ve only seen pictures, a long, long time ago - back before I came down here.¡±


    ¡°Yes.  This language is difficult.  Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Can I come closer?¡±


    ¡°Are you a . . .¡± Shaskie hesitated.  She could not tell who had been speaking, the only ones she could see being the three spiders.  ¡°A sfider?¡±


    ¡°I call them crystal ferrets.  They don¡¯t look like spiders at all.  No, I¡¯m human.¡±  Moriah hesitated, but then decided to use the name Klorachamol had given her.  ¡°You can call me Ker.¡±


    Shaskie¡¯s ears flattened against her head.  Was this human mocking her?


    ¡°Why are you angry, Ms. Shaskie?¡±  The flash of anger blazed against Moriah¡¯s nerves making her cringe.  ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡±  Moriah could not think of anything, reviewing the short conversation in her head.


    ¡°There was a huvan naved Ker.  She died.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±  Moriah thought hard, then in a slow voice, ¡°Well, I suppose they might think I had died, now that you say that.¡±  With a few exceptions, memories between her family¡¯s annihilation and waking from the fenguar dream lay as faint shadows in her mind.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t talk,¡± Shaskie said, her tail lashing the ground in agitation.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°I, I don¡¯t remember saying anything, I don¡¯t think . . . Not a single word?¡±  Moriah¡¯s voice sounded distant, thoughtful, but then changed, becoming crisp. ¡°But things have changed.  I don¡¯t intend to die easily anymore.¡±  She paused a moment.  ¡°So, can I come closer?  I promise I won¡¯t hurt you, as long as you don¡¯t try to hurt me or the boys.¡±


    Shaskie was not sure at all.  ¡°Can I turn on vi light?¡±


    ¡°But it hurts me,¡± Moriah complained.  The silence stretched.  Something clicked in Moriah¡¯s mind.  ¡°Oh dear.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±  Shaskie tensed.


    ¡°I want to return to the camp, but it¡¯s going to have bright lights there too.  I¡¯ve been used to crystal glow for so long . . . .¡±  Moriah wondered if she could get used to bright lights again.  Shaskie¡¯s light really hurt.  This made two difficulties with returning - blinding lights and her peers.


    ¡°I¡¯l sure, er, you could get used to it,¡± Shaskie encouraged.  ¡°Do you know Jenjen?¡±


    Moriah nodded, realizing with a jolt how much she enjoyed talking with someone who spoke.  The peers communicated, but did not speak.  The difference blinded her with its significance and her desire to return to the camp upped several notches.  ¡°He¡¯s one of the gnarly, I think?¡±


    ¡°Yes.  He asked ve to cov here, er, to investigate.  Would you cov out, er, travel to visit with Jenjen and Corko and talk?¡±  Shaskie growled her frustration, trying to find words she could pronounce clearly.  Her ears twitched at a scrabbling sound.  One of the spiders had shifted.


    ¡°What does he want?¡±  Moriah thrilled at the thought of talking to a gnarly man.  She didn¡¯t think Jenjen would be like Hank, from what she remembered.  A vague recollection of power, earth and fire tickled her memory.  She also remembered he had not seemed to like her for some reason.  This thought sobered her enthusiasm.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Shaskie wondered how she should answer, but she did not think her mission was secret.  ¡°Well, I think he sensed those sfiders and was curious.¡±


    [[note - ¡°Ferrets is¡± in the next paragraph is deliberate]]


    ¡°Call them Ferrets,¡± Moriah said in a pouty voice.  ¡°They don¡¯t look like spiders at all.  Ferrets is a much better name for them.  I thought I told you that already.¡±  More loudly, ¡°Anyway.  I really do want to return to the mine.¡±  Moriah thought hard.  ¡°Well, maybe Jenjen and, um, Coko?  There was another dwarf with, um, Jenjen, I think .  Maybe they can help figure out a solution?  I don¡¯t think I can bring the boys, but I don¡¯t feel comfortable just leaving them alone either.¡±  The thought of parting from her three friends disturbed her in ways she could not express.  ¡°And, as you say, I might be able to get used to bright light again.  Um,¡± another thought came to her, ¡°do you think I could get some food too?  All I have left to eat is fenguar spore.¡±  She grimaced, her words clearly conveying what she thought of that food source.


    ¡°I would think so.  Restorm claims you¡¯re a legend.  That you bring crystal and myth ores out of thin air.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±  Moriah blushed in the dark.  ¡°Should I?  Should I bring some with me now?¡±  Moriah wondered how she could carry it.  ¡°I still have a few pockets intact, I suppose.  Just a moment.¡±  She rose, her shadowy silhouette revealing her location on the other side of the cavern for the first time, only a few feet from the three crystal ferrets.  She took a few steps to the right and vanished.  The three ferrets remained watchful of the intruder.


    Shaskie¡¯s nerves neared the end of endurance before Moriah returned.  Appearing in the dim crystal glow, Moriah nearly gave the young kyt a death stroke.  ¡°Shaskie, you still have not said whether I can come closer?¡±  Her voice rose in inquiry.


    Gasping for breath and composure, Shaskie answered, ¡°I . . . Yes, it¡¯s okay, I think.  The sfide, I mean,  ferrets, they will not attack?¡±


    ¡°I already told them not to.  They won¡¯t disobey me.¡±  Moriah moved easily over the jagged cavern floor in the dim light, the glowing ferrets flowing at her heels.  ¡°I¡¯m ready to go.¡±


    ¡°Then follow ve,¡± Shaskie replied, backing away from the approaching ferrets.  ¡°I have to turn on the light.  I will turn down the tunnel first.¡±  She spun around and took a few steps into the passage before turning the light on, the rock walls flashing bright even to her eyes for a moment.  Almost coming to where the confining tunnel emptied into the larger one, Shaskie paused without turning her head.  ¡°I should give them warning.  Crystal ferrets and everything, you know.¡±


    Moriah nodded, her head almost touching the low ceiling while her elbows supported her upper body as she crawled through the small tunnel.  ¡°I will wait.  I recognize this tunnel and we¡¯re almost to a larger passage I was hunting in earlier.  I think,¡± she hesitated, but then continued, ¡°if they could at least dim their lights, it would be appreciated.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask.¡±  Shaskie continued on, coming to the opening into the larger passage several minutes later.  She sprang to the ground, landing at Corko¡¯s feet.


    ¡°Return you have,¡± Corko declared, squatting.  ¡°Is it that you did find the earth eaters so quickly?¡±


    Shaskie mewed and then said, ¡°Yes, vut . . . vut I found another also.¡±  Shaskie walked over to Restorm.  ¡°Captain, you told ve the story of Ker.  There is one who declares herself Ker living with the ferrets.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±  Restorm said.  ¡°I told you Ker died.¡±


    ¡°I told her that too.  She disagreed.¡±  Shaskie sat looking up at the tall human.  ¡°She¡¯s waiting a short distance down the tunnel, vut she¡¯s sensitive to light and. . . .¡±  Now the kytosine stopped altogether.  How could she explain the ferrets?


    ¡°What are ferrets to which you refer?¡±  Jenjen asked into the pause.


    ¡°Ker calls ferrets.  Crystal ferrets, not that other thing.¡±  Shaskie decided to avoid difficult words like ¡°spider.¡±


    ¡°Crystal ferrets?  Oh, do you mean spiders?¡±  Karen asked and Shaskie nodded.  ¡°Hmm, they do look more like ferrets than spiders, don¡¯t they,¡± Karen agreed, shuddering.  ¡°So, you said this person is living with these ferrets?  Are they coming too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you Karen.  It is so strange and hard to force the words out.¡±  Shaskie felt vast relief at not having to say it herself.


    ¡°It is said, none may tame the earth eaters,¡± Corko said.


    ¡°She told the ferrets not to attack and they didn¡¯t.  You should talk to her.  She says she wants to return to the vine, er, calf.¡±  Shaskie hung her head and muttered, ¡°I hate Elerate.¡±


    ¡°She wants to return to the mining camp, and Emerite is not that hard.  You do well for not being able to form bilabials,¡± Restorm said.  ¡°But she¡¯s been dead for years now.  Even assuming she survived the fenguar and the cave in, how has she survived till now?  And why did she wait this long to come back?¡±


    ¡°Could not find it,¡± Shaskie said.  ¡°She said she eats fenguar.¡±


    ¡°Bad taste, but nourishing,¡± Corko commented.  ¡°Talking to the one who claims to be Ker, answers to our questions will be discovered more easily.¡±  He smiled down at Shaskie.


    ¡°Thank you, Corko.¡±  Shaskie inclined her head.  ¡°She requested low lights.  She is used to crystal glow.¡±


    ¡°This will be done,¡± Jenjen said.  ¡°I shall retain my light at such a level, the rest shall extinguish theirs.¡±  The tunnel plunged into darkness as everyone responded and their eyes adjusted to the dim light from Jenjen¡¯s shoulder lamps.  Restorm lifted Shaskie back to the hole and the kytosine headed into the darkness, keeping her own lamp as dim as she could and still travel safely.


    Several minutes later, Shaskie¡¯s dim head lamp appeared in the hole¡¯s entrance, the silvery reflection in her eyes gleaming bright under it.  ¡°We are here,¡± she announced, springing out of the entrance to clear the way.  The glow from Radar¡¯s body lit the entrance as he took her place.


    Radar did not know if he liked this situation.  He understood that his queen intended to go with these strange creatures, but he did not trust them.  The other two peers echoed his thoughts, but Moriah firmly commanded them to behave.  Snapping his jaws in frustration, he clambered down the side of the tunnel and moved so he stood between the wide creatures and his queen.


    At the first appearance of the crystal ferret the four adults stiffened, the humans readying their lesion knives and the dwarves their modified pickaxes.  Intent upon watching the ferret, Karen missed Moriah¡¯s appearance, only noticing the event as the girl inched her upper body out of the hole, planting her hands below her and flipping to the ground.  As soon as she cleared the tunnel, Jonal and Xian swarmed down the wall to stand to either side of their queen.


    Neither the captain nor the two dwarves missed Moriah¡¯s first appearance as her silver hair caught Jenjen¡¯s light like a flare, nor the second and third earth eaters.  Jenjen frowned, disturbed by both the human and her companions.


    Moriah¡¯s hair had grown almost to her shoulders, but this girl was definitely the Ker.  He could not be mistaken, though her immature body had grown somewhat taller and she moved more gracefully than the child of yore.  Her coveralls were torn to shreds, the seams ripped out to accommodate growth of body.  But the seeming allegiance of the earth eaters disturbed him as much as the reappearance of the black one¡¯s hope.


    ¡°It is Ker,¡± Corko said, recognizing the human as easily as his cousin.


    Moriah hesitated for a moment, scared now that she faced the gnarly men.  The two humans also surprised her.  She could not place who they were, but thought she might should.  ¡°Uh, hello?¡±


    Karen gasped and took a step forward, but stopped when Radar hissed at her.  ¡°Ker, you can speak.¡±


    Moriah nodded.  ¡°I could speak before.  There,¡± she paused, taking a full breath.  ¡°There just wasn¡¯t a reason to, is all.¡±


    ¡°How is it that the earth eaters guard you?¡±  Jenjen asked, his pickaxe still at the ready, his voice low and challenging.


    Moriah swallowed, the dwarf¡¯s hostility grating her nerves.  The three peers hissed as one and Moriah hunched her shoulders under the intense emotions being projected.  ¡°Why are you upset?  I didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡±


    Restorm touched Jenjen¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°Ease, Jenjen.  You¡¯re projecting a little too strongly.¡±  Addressing Moriah from over the dwarf¡¯s head, ¡°Ker, you have changed much since last we saw one another.  Do you remember me?¡±


    Moriah hesitated for a moment, trying to recall.  A shadowy scene cleared just a little.  ¡°You were there with that bad gnome, and some others?  You made that one go first into the tunnel.  I, I don¡¯t remember your name.¡±


    Restorm smiled at her.  The emotions he sensed were confused, but one thing he knew for certain - a distinct element of the emotions the three ferrets projected exactly matched that of the girl¡¯s.  ¡°My name is Restorm.  This lady is Priestess Karen.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a priestess,¡± Karen objected.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not argue,¡± Restorm waved aside the old debate.  Karen denied the title, but performed all the functions thereof, so everyone thought of her as the Priestess.  ¡°Do you remember the names of the dwarves?¡±


    ¡°I do.  Corko and Jenjen, but I don¡¯t remember which is which.  I¡¯m sorry.¡±  She looked away and in a quieter voice, ¡°I did not want to learn people¡¯s names then.¡±


    ¡°I am Corko.¡±


    ¡°I am Jenjen.¡±


    ¡°Pleased to meet you all,¡± Moriah answered, bowing in formal greeting.  The dwarves and humans all bowed in return.


    ¡°So, how is it that you¡¯re alive when all thought you dead, and are now accompanied by such interesting friends,¡± Restorm asked, voice and manner easier than Jenjen¡¯s


    Moriah swallowed, still aware of the larger dwarf¡¯s hostility.  Still, it never crossed her mind to withhold the information, nor try deception.  ¡°It¡¯s kind of complicated, but they consider me their queen.  Anyway, that¡¯s the feeling I get when I try to think about it.¡±  She squatted between Jonal and Xian, placing one hand on each.  ¡°I killed their mother and the baby queen these guys would have served.  They accepted me as a replacement.¡±


    Silence fell for a short time as this information absorbed.  Finally Karen spoke.  ¡°So, Shaskie says you want to return to the mining camp.¡±


    Moriah cocked her head at the abrupt change in topic.  ¡°I would, except I don¡¯t know what to do with these guys.  I¡¯m responsible for them.  Plus, bright light hurts me now.¡±


    ¡°Adjust to light you will after a short time,¡± Jenjen said, his manner easing.  ¡°The earth eaters will not be welcomed inside the camp.¡±


    ¡°But you will still have to mine,¡± Karen added.  ¡°In fact, you could easily spend most of your time away from the camp.¡±


    ¡°I would suggest it,¡± Restorm added his affirmation.  ¡°The less time spent near the guards, the better it will be for you.  They fear the spiders more than anything else.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t spiders,¡± Moriah said.  ¡°That¡¯s just the wrong image.  They look like ferrets, so I renamed them crystal ferrets.¡±


    Restorm chuckled.  ¡°Shaskie mentioned that, but it is hard to overcome historical precedents.  Very well, but whether they¡®re called crystal spiders or crystal ferrets, the guards won¡¯t like that you associate with them.  I would avoid talking to the guards at all, in fact.¡±


    ¡°How would I do that?¡±  Moriah had a hard time picturing herself refusing to talk to someone who talked to her.  That was rude.


    ¡°Child, you¡¯ve already set the precedent,¡± Karen laughed, the others with her, even Jenjen smiled, his hostility notching down a little more.  ¡°Do you remember how you acted before?¡±


    Moriah remembered.  She raised her hands to her mouth in distress, blushing so hot she felt lightheaded.  ¡°I was rude.  I¡¯m sorry!¡±  She bowed deep in contrition.  The adults laughed harder, Jenjen bellowing one of his ho ho ho¡¯s that echoed down the tunnels.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about being rude,¡± Restorm said, recovering first, wiping tears from his eyes.  ¡°I would suggest that you treat everyone just like you did before.  It will be your greatest protection.¡±


    ¡°She should talk with Klorachamol and Jenna,¡± Karen said, crossing her arms and daring anyone to argue.  ¡°Both of those have missed you greatly, young Ker.¡±  Karen smiled at the child.  Moriah¡¯s eyes widened in surprise and she smiled a shy smile.  ¡°However, aside from those two and us here, you should not even acknowledge anyone else.  If they think you still don¡¯t speak, the topic of the crystal sp, ferrets won¡¯t ever come up.  However, if you speak to anyone else, it will get back to the guards.¡±


    Moriah¡¯s head spun with the talk of subterfuge.  She could understand the argument, but it seemed dishonest somehow.


    Sensing her confusion, Restorm sighed.  ¡°Ker, it is what they expect from you now.¡±  He waved his hand at Radar, ¡°Because of your relationship with these ferrets, it would be dangerous for them if people started asking questions.  You not only have to choose the battles you want to fight, but how you will fight them.  This is one way of fighting this particular battle, and the one most likely to have the least number of casualties - that is, if the guards don¡¯t know about your friends, they won¡¯t kill them.¡±


    This made sense to Moriah and she nodded.  Of course each battle would have many ways of fighting them, each with its own set of consequences.  ¡°Okay.  I think I can do it.¡±  She hesitated, touching a bulging pocket, not certain of what to do next.  ¡°I brought some crystal and raw ore with me.  Do you think I should turn it in now and then leave again?  I would like to get some food because I¡¯ve been eating fenguar for days now.¡±  Moriah¡¯s voice once again conveyed her utter disgust.


    ¡°To turn something in now, it is good, but big reaction there will be,¡± Corko said.  ¡°It may be that guards try to question, even knowing silence will answer.¡±  Everyone fell silent.


    ¡°I just have to ignore them, right?¡±  Moriah broke the silence.  ¡°I can try.  I don¡¯t want them hurting my peers.¡±  Moriah stood, addressing Radar, Jonal and Xian through her link.  Go back to the nest and wait for me.  If you want, you can hunt some of the rich ores for me.  I have a use for it now.  No, silly, I¡¯m not going to eat it.  Go.  The three peers hesitated, but then swarmed up the side of the tunnel and vanished from sight in obedience.


    Jenjen and Corko watched the deadly creatures vanish and then turned in unison to look at Moriah with duplicate, inscrutable expressions.  Jenjen said, ¡°Practice you will.  Look forward and do not answer any questions.  Allow nothing to startle you.¡±


    Moriah stared at the dwarf and then slumped forward, saying, ¡°How in the world do I do that?¡±


    ¡°This you have done already,¡± Corko said, encourage her with a smile.


    Moriah shook her head slow and deliberate, crossing her arms and compressing her lips before she spoke.  ¡°But I . . . I did not care about anything then.  I.¡±  She hesitated, tears almost escaping.  ¡°I did not see anything or anybody then.  Not really.  Even now, I just re, remember shadows and wavery images.  But I don¡¯t want to die anymore.  It¡¯s okay that I live.  I,¡± she choked, ¡°I am okay with living.¡±  Her eyes flashed, ¡°I will honor my family.¡±  She glared a challenge at the dwarf.


    ¡°It is good to honor the Clan,¡± Jenjen said.  Something significant had happened to the human child and he felt curious, his hostility all but vanishing.  He considered and then spoke gnarly to his cousin, searching for a different way to protect Moriah.  Corko shrugged, replying also in gnarly.  Jenjen turned back to Moriah, ¡°Ker, we know not another way, but another may.  Ask the death master and the Jenna.  In conference of these six,¡± he indicated his cousin, the captain and Karen, ¡°an answer will come.  Return to your friends you shall for three days.¡±  The dwarf took a deliberate breath.  ¡°It is that you have no light?¡±


    Moriah shook her head.


    ¡°Take mine you shall.  Brighten by degrees for the time of waiting.  Take also this,¡± he handed a small comm unit, explaining how to turn it on and use the time function.  ¡°A data object - computer you may consider it.  Return to this place in three days, when timer becomes zero.¡±


    ¡°But.¡±  Moriah threw her hands into the air, ¡°Oh shoot.  Does that mean I have to eat Fenguar for three more days?  I don¡¯t wanna.¡±  Her shoulders slumped again and she looked down at the ground.


    ¡°Take these,¡± Corko handed her several of the mine ration blocks.


    Moriah accepted the rations with trembling hands, a tear streaking her dirty face.  Suddenly she threw her arms as far around the rotund man as she could and kissed his bearded cheek.  ¡°Thank you so much!¡±  She withdrew, hugging the precious rations to her chest.  Corko hemmed and hawed, embarrassed and Jenjen let out a belly laugh at his cousin¡¯s discomfort.


    Recovering from his amusement, Jenjen cleared his throat.  ¡°Leave now, before others come.¡±


    Moriah looked around, down the different passages and shrugged.  ¡°No one¡¯s coming, I don¡¯t think, but okay.  Three days.¡±  She sprang easily up to the tunnel and clambered into the narrow hole, worming her way out of sight in a moment.


    Several moments passed after the noise from the hole silenced.  Jenjen took a deep breath and turned to Shaskie.  ¡°You found the Ker.  Share details of this occasion.¡±  Shaskie obeyed, explaining the large cavern where the three crystal ferrets (she agreed that the new name fit them better, plus she could actually say the word so used it without thinking) had been waiting with Ker, what had been said and the short disappearance just before they had left to meet the dwarves.  Once she finished, they all returned to the camp in silence, each keeping their thoughts to themselves.


    The dwarves waited in their small cave for Klorachamol and Jenna for a full day.  Klorachamol noted the dwarves before entering the cave, but Jenna gasped upon clearing the entrance.


    ¡°Where have you dirt grubbers been?¡± she demanded, looking down at them with imperious hauteur.


    ¡°Exploring.  Meet elsewhere we shall,¡± Corko said without preamble, both dwarves rising to stand in unison.  ¡°A matter of interest we wish to discuss.¡±  Turning away still in unison, the two left the cavern. Klorachamol and Jenna exchanged glances and Jenna grinned as they followed.  Going deep into the caves, well outside the network of wired sensors the guards used, they rounded a corner to find Restorm, Karen and Shaskie waiting.


    ¡°Alright.  Spill,¡± Jenna pounced on Jenjen from behind, glaring at everyone, her curiosity having far outstripped her patience early in the trek.  Maintaining her grip on his neck, she lowered her voice and growled, ¡°Be quick or someone gets hurt.¡±


    Corko and Jenjen laughed at her.  ¡°Jenna has not the patience of the earth,¡± Corko chortled.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gnarly, dirt breath.  I am, however, part fae and I will hurt you if you don¡¯t tell me what¡¯s going on, immediately.¡±  Her eyes brightened with their own internal light.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Jenjen¡¯s smile vanished, from mouth and eyes in an instant.  ¡°A serious matter has arisen.  The Ker still lives.¡±


    Klorachamol stiffened, his own smile at his mate¡¯s lack of patience vanishing with the same abruptness as Jenjen¡¯s.  He waited, his narrowed eyes never wavering from the dwarves.


    ¡°What?¡±  Jenna stared stupidly, flummoxed.  She let go of Jenjen and sagged back onto her heels, already on her knees to throttle the dwarf.


    ¡°Hm, from the beginning is best,¡± Corko said.  ¡°It is that the crystal spiders have made another appearance.  This you know?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but what does . . . .¡±  Jenna stopped at Restrom¡¯s upraised hand.


    ¡°Let Corko set the stage, dear Jenna,¡± Restrom said.


    ¡°It is that I and Jenjen sensed these earth eaters.  A unique flavor of earth and other did make us two intrigued.  Thus, requested this kytosine, Shaskie, to investigate.¡±  Corko then explained about their meeting with Moriah.


    ¡°The Ker it is, without doubt,¡± Jenjen added at Klorachamol¡¯s expression.  ¡°Meet again in two days we shall.  Your own judgment you may render at that time.¡±  Everyone fell silent for a time.


    Jenna leaned against Klorachamol, feeling his tenseness.  She said, ¡°Well, if it is indeed Ker, then she definitely needs to come back to the camp.  No child should live by herself.  There is no way the f - ferrets will be permitted into the camp, but if they stay clear the other problem is easily fixed.¡±  Klorachamol turned his head to look at her.  ¡°Hypnotism.  She already knows how to ignore anything and everything better than anyone I know, and either of us can do it fairly easily since that pattern is already set in her mind.  It won¡¯t be too difficult to open the pathways, and if she practices, she should be able to establish the proper mind set on her own.¡±


    ¡°If it is Ker,¡± Klorachamol growled.


    ¡°If the dwarves, Captain and Priestess attest to it, I see no reason not to at least give it a chance.¡±  She squeezed his arm.


    ¡°I will wait until I see this person.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Jenna grinned at him and nuzzled his cheek.  ¡°We will wait and what will be, will be.¡±

 Chapter 13 - Bang!

    Moriah brooded with a frowmirk on her face, the span of time known as three days having become synonymous with eternity.  However, unlike true eternity, this minor version had finally almost passed and only another hour remained.  She currently waited about a ten minute¡¯s crawl from the meeting place and brooded about meeting the man named Klorachamol.  She could not remember his face at all.  Every time she tried, all she could picture was a dark void of shadow.  On the other hand, she vaguely thought she might not have actually liked the dark man.  But try as she might, she could not remember why, very little social memory coming into focus from that time.  Weirdly, she thought she wanted to like the man though.  Again, she was not sure why.  And thus she brooded with a hesitant expression somewhere between a frown of discord and a smirk of anticipation, a frowmirk.


    On top of those thoughts, she worried about her peers.  Xian currently rested on her stomach, the Radar and Jonal each on squirreled up to her hips.  While fairly small still, they were stupid heavy so she only ever allowed one on her stomach these days.


    Laying on her back she sighed and absently stroked them. The more she thought about parting from them, the more disturbed both she and they became.  During the last eternity called three days, she came to more fully realize that not only could she not separate from them, but she absolutely did not want to.  That meant she could not really return to the mines, at least not the way she had been thinking.


    Unable to quiet her troubled thoughts, she began to sing, the peers responding with glowing eyes which accepted the song while reflected her turmoil.


    The seven miners approached the meeting place a bit before the set time.  As they approached the smaller tunnel opening where Moriah would appear, the dwarves both stopped, raising a hand to stop the others.  Several minutes passed as the two gnarly men stared at the opening still over twenty yards away.


    Corko remained planted where he had stopped, keeping the others from advancing, but eventually Jenjen moved forward.  He placed a hand on the rock below the small hole from which Moriah would appear.  He stood still for a long moment, his senses spreading into the earth there.


    ¡°Come,¡± Jenjen eventually said, his hand and concentration still fully in place.  Corko advanced, followed by the others.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, huh?¡± Jenna asked, hands on hips.  Both her ears and nose twitched in curiosity.


    ¡°Earth be excited, spirit of world trembles,¡± Jenjen replied, his voice gravely and distracted.


    ¡°Huh?  What the heck does that even mean?¡±  Jenna demanded.  ¡°If you¡¯re going to answer a question, answer so I can understand, silly dwarf.¡±


    ¡°As declared - something excites ground, rock, dirt,¡± Jenjen rumbled.  ¡°The spirit of this world answers, though in minor only.¡±


    Corko added, ¡°Essence of being, to a power responds.¡±  Then addressing his cousin, ¡°Harmony with uniqueness of afore time.  As then, so now, Ker.¡±


    Jenjen nodded, his mouth tightening into a line.  ¡°It is so.¡±  He shifted his head, looking at the rock under the hole again where his hand rested.  ¡°Excitement wanes.¡±  He nodded his head once and then backed away from the hole several paces.  ¡°As then, so now, Ker.  The earth eaters and child approach.¡±


    The others glanced at each other, a bit perplexed with the dwarves.  But before they could comment, Radar and Jonal filled the opening, their small snouts side by side.  They glanced around, noting the seven awaiting their queen.  They then swarmed down the wall to place themselves between them and where their queen would be.  Moriah followed them a moment later, once more flipping out of the tunnel to land lightly on the ground.  Xian appeared in the tunnel¡¯s entrance, but rather than coming down as his brethren, he remained in the higher location for better vantage.


    As soon as she appeared, both Jenna and Klorachamol knew her.  ¡°Klorachamol?¡±  Jenna whispered, her voice trembling as she held onto his arm.  She could feel the tension vibrating through him.


    Moriah stood looking at them.  Her head tilted to the side and she said, ¡°Um, hello again?¡±  She hesitated, her eyes taking in the two new additions to the group.  They should be Klorachamol and Jenna.  Still, even now she could not remember how they looked, though maybe the woman?  The woman did seem a bit familiar.  But even now, Klorachamol¡¯s mahogany complexion made it hard to see details, especially since they were still keeping the lighting dim for her.


    Klorachamol forced himself to relax.  He said, ¡°So, you did survive.¡±


    Moriah smiled at him and nodded.  ¡°Yes sir, that¡¯s the rumor I¡¯m starting.  Um, you¡¯re Mr. Klorachamol, right?¡±


    His eyes narrowed slightly.  ¡°I am.¡±


    Moriah felt a strange emotion from him which she could not categorize, maybe affection or anger, possibly even fear.  ¡°I¡¯m sorry that I don¡¯t recognize you clearly.¡±  She lowered her head for a moment and then continued, ¡°I cannot remember much detail from back then.¡±  But then she looked up and stepped forward between Radar and Jonal, firmly telling them to stay where they were, and declared boldly, ¡°But I can now.  I really want to get to know everyone and talk and learn about everything.¡±  Her voice rose with her excitement.  ¡°I want to learn their language,¡± she pointed to the dwarves, ¡° and about kytosine and about you and Jenna.¡±


    Reaching out to grasp Klorachamol¡¯s hand, she gasped ¡°oh!¡± and jerked her hand back, her eyes widening and smile faltering a bit in surprise.  That brief touch had ended up piercing the man¡¯s defenses, revealing way too much.  Way more than she could unpack in the moment, and most of it dark and rather disturbing.  But the most prominent thing had been the hag.  A hag both the same and different to the one she had defeated in her dream so long ago lay clear and prominent within Klorachamol psyche, the creature¡¯s tendrils of control permeating all.


    Klorachamol also jerked away, not used to people being so open with him except Jenna.  If one of the other miners had done it, he would have killed them, irrelevant of their intent.  But this was Ker and he did not want to kill her.  He simply did not know how to handle such a strange situation, so merely took a step back.


    Jenna came to his rescue, stepping into the space he created.  She smiled at the girl, a brilliant smile full of flowers and sunshine.  ¡°Well then, my dear Ker, if that¡¯s the case we will have to help you.  Never mind Klorachamol, he doesn¡¯t do casual social interactions unless its business related.¡±  She bent over and put her hands on her knees to look into Moriah¡¯s eyes.  ¡°But we will be friends from now on, right?¡±


    Moriah¡¯s smile returned and she nodded.  ¡°I would like that very much, Ms. Jenna.¡±


    Jenna blinked, her smile turning to a glare.  ¡°Do not call me Ms.  It makes me feel old.¡±


    ¡°But Momma would get mad at me if I was rude,¡± Moriah objected.


    Her voice hardening to convey her displeasure, Jenna snapped, ¡°I reject being called Ms., Little Miss.  Insisting on doing so is the very definition of being rude.  Now, you will call me Jenna from now on, got it?¡±


    Moriah hesitated but then said in an uncertain voice, ¡°Okay, J, Jenna.¡±


    ¡°Much better,¡± Jenna declared, her smile blossoming again as she tweaked her hair in front of her shoulder so she could fiddle with it.


    Moriah sighed and then smiled more naturally.  Glancing around at everyone, she asked, ¡°So did you guys figure out how I can return to the camp without causing too much trouble?¡±


    Jenna eyes widened in shock, and then she burst into laughter.  Jenjen let out a ho ho ho and the others also snorted or otherwise showed astonishment or amusement to one degree or another.  Jenna answered, wheezing between more chortles as she slapped her knees, ¡°Honey, there is absolutely no way for you not to cause an uproar if you come back into the Camp.  Oh dear, oh dear.¡±


    She held her stomach as she continued to laugh. ¡°Can¡¯t be avoided at all since you¡¯re coming back to life after being dead for years.¡±  She wiped tears from her eyes.  ¡°Sorry, sorry, that was funny.¡±  She patted Moriah on her head.  Moriah flinched away from the contact as yet another hag made an appearance to her senses.


    Jenna continued, either ignoring or not noticing her flinch.  ¡°Anyway, we have in fact come up with a solution that should make your return manageable.¡±  She told the girl about the plan to hypnotize her so she would not respond to outside stimulus, explaining that in the beginning one of them would have to trigger her into or out of the ¡°dead eye¡± state.  However, she asserted that with time and practice Moriah should be able to control it herself well enough.


    Moriah listened without interrupting.  When Jenna finished by telling her that either she or Klorachamol could do the initial hypnotism, she remained silent for a bit longer before replying.  Taking a deep breath, she asked, ¡°What about these guys?¡±  She jerked her thumb towards the peers.  ¡°I cannot be separated from them for long.¡±


    ¡°Outside boundaries must remain,¡± Jenjen said, having moved closer to the crystal ferrets with an eye of curiosity.  ¡°Boundary starts beyond bend,¡± and he pointed in the direction they had come from the camp.


    Moriah turned to the peers and crouched to put her hand on Radar and Jonal, the contact helping give the unwelcome instructions.  She forbid them from ever coming to her in the camp.  They were to hunt for crystal and rich ores (she firmly told them not to gorge themselves) and otherwise wait for her in the nest.  They whined in high pitched distress, but submitted to her will.  Moriah then stood to reach Xian and give him her firm instructions.  After that, the three reluctantly departed down the small tunnel Moriah remained standing in front of the opening until they had disappeared from sight.


    Once the light of their crystalline backs disappeared, Moriah spun around, a smile on her face and a tear in her eye.  ¡°Ready.  If it¡¯s alright, I would like Klorachamol to be the one to hypnotize me.¡±  She really did want to be his friend, no matter what she had sensed with that initial touch, and she thought starting their relationship by trusting him would be the best way.


    Klorachamol finished the process in mere moments and Moriah stood once more staring forward without sign of emotion or awareness.  With that, the group headed back to the camp.  In the darkness a few paces down the tunnel going away from the Camp, Klierallan stood undetected watching their lights fade.  The shadows rippled and the elf vanished as if he never was.


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    Klorachamol entered the depot, followed by a child and the kytosine scrambler.  He always attracted a bit of attention, since being unaware of the killer was detrimental to one¡¯s survival.  But the miners rarely did more than take note of him so they could avoid getting in his way.


    But then in a slow wave, silence descended over the cavern.  This and that miner stood up or stiffened where they sat, their eyes riveted on the child.  That blank, dead-eyed stare gazing without deviation ahead at nothing.  They knew it, the ones with years of experience.  Only one person, only one small girl had ever walked that way, had looked that way.  The Ker.  The ones who recognized her whispered the name.  The epitaph.


    The depot guard¡¯s tactical computer noticed the silence long before the bored guard ever would have, raising a cautionary light to all the guards at the unusual behavior.  The guard stationed at the depot readied his weapon wondering if this was some kind of stupid drill.  He doubted the slaves, er, miners would ever do anything to cause any problems.


    The tactical computer scanned the cavern, immediately identifying Klorachamol and Shaskie, but not Moriah.  The guard also did not recognize the child the computer highlighted as unknown, though he did not care enough to remember individual slaves, er . . . slaves.  He really was tired of correcting his thoughts.  They were what they were, irrelevant of the stupid directives from on high.


    The display on his visor warned him that many of the slaves in the main cavern were becoming excited and moving towards Klorachamol.  The guard cursed under his breath, switching the rifle¡¯s safety off.  If the dark man went off, they might lose all the miners in an instant.  That would delay quota and keep him in this cursed mine indefinitely.  The guard held his gun leveled at the unknown child, but his eyes were on the killer.  If the child was the cause of the unrest, he would just eliminate it first.  Ten seconds passed as they walked across the floor before the computer made a positive identification, ¡°Scrambler Ker - Deceased.¡±  The date of her death flashed.


    ¡°Stad, don¡¯t do anything stupid.  I¡¯m coming.  Do NOT, I repeat, do not harm that girl.¡±  The shift commander¡¯s voice snapped through the guard¡¯s comm, colored by unusual emotion.  ¡°I swear, if you hurt her, I¡¯ll kill you myself.¡±   The guard shifted his gun away from the girl and reactivated the safety.  As he did, Commander Helston appeared, flanked by four other senior guards.  They stopped and stared at Moriah for a moment, but then strode forward.  ¡°Klorachamol.¡±


    Klorachamol glanced at the commander and inclined his head.  ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the good Commander Helston.  Fancy seeing your face here in the depot.¡±  Not that the man was actually showing his face.  Klorachamol snarkily wondered just what the commander¡¯s expression might be behind the armor¡¯s helm at that moment.  ¡°By the way, did you hear that Ker apparently did not die when you ordered that tunnel blown?  Found her and brought her in to make a deposit.¡±  The girl in question ignored the discussion, her eyes never wavering from whatever they saw.


    Helston glared at Klorachamol and then pointed to a vacant counter.  ¡°Fine.  Take her over there and make the deposit.¡±  He pointed to one of the depot clerks.  ¡°You, intake her now.¡±  The indicated clerk tripped over his own feet as he tried to hurry, fear at being the one pointed out by the commander numbing his mind.


    Klorachamol steered Moriah to the indicated counter and told her to turn in her deposit.  Moriah obeyed, emptying her pockets of ore.  The clerk picked up the first chunk and placed it on the scanner.  The scanner¡¯s peripheral lighting darkened, safety circuits cutting out.  Just then the current depot manager appeared at the inexperienced clerk¡¯s side.  He glanced at the mythic class ore resting on the scanner and said, ¡°Commander, this is Adintin.  May I take over in-processing?¡±


    ¡°Do so,¡± Commander Henson commanded.  He tried scanning the ore with his own tactical computer, but it did not register at all.


    ¡°Boy, it¡¯s okay.  Go back to your counter,¡± the manager instructed, giving the distraught clerk a gentle push as he took his place.


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± the young clerk replied, moving as quick as he dared.


    The manager removed the ore from the scanner and reset the safeties.  Once he finished that task, he reset the scanner for the appropriate ore, so it would properly account for its unique, mystical qualities.  Setting the chunk of ore on the scanner again, he waited for it to finish its analysis.


    The scanner beeped, indicating the analysis complete.  After checking the readout, the manager stepped back and said, ¡°Commander?¡± while indicating the screen with a hand.


    The commander stepped forward for a moment and then motioned for the manager to continue processing all of the ore the girl had set on the counter.  As the man obeyed, the commander focused on the girl.  Moriah ignored him.


    A loud bang shattered the quiet that had descended over the depot.  Helston flinched at the noise even with his armor muffling it, but Moriah did not react at all.


    ¡°Finished,¡± the manager announced and moved out of the way again before he got shoved.


    The commander stepped up again and scanned the results before ordering, ¡°Box that up.¡±  He turned to Klorachamol.  ¡°Klorachamol, I leave her in your charge.  Since she had enough banked to cover her absence, there won¡¯t be any punishment for missing quota.¡±  He glanced at the child again.  ¡°Get her new coveralls and another box.  She should be able to bring in more with proper equipment.¡±


    ¡°She needs a light and a new lesion knife,¡± Klorachamol said.


    ¡°Get her fully outfitted.  Whatever it takes.  I want her reintegrated into the camp and out mining immediately.  Where did you find her?¡±


    ¡°About two hours out, past sector forty-three.¡±


    ¡°Make sure nothing stupid happens to her again.¡±  The commander spun around and strode out of the depot along with his companions, adrenaline stinging his fingers.  The shift changer had returned.  While not a large quantity, what the quality of what the girl had merely been carrying in her pockets had probably shortened his stay by almost a whole week.  While the helmet he wore hid the grin on his face, it could not hide the strange swagger his armor displayed as he strode away.


    After the guards left, Shaskie split off from the others to attend to her own duties.  Moriah and Klorachamol returned to his personal cave.  Entering the separate space, the assassin closed the curtain over the entrance and then turned to his woman.


    ¡°Oye, Jenna, that was too freaking loud,¡± Klorachamol griped.


    Jenna threw herself into his arms and kissed him.  ¡°Did it work?¡±


    He snorted as he wrapped his arms around her.  ¡°Yeah, suppose it did.  She didn¡¯t twitch and Helston happened to be looking right at her.  He said I was in charge of her again.¡±  He let out a sigh of resignation.  ¡°Just what I needed.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Jenna agreed affably.  She kept her voice neutral but there was a visible twinkle in her eyes.  Literally, a spark of light was dancing in her pupils.  ¡°The cave¡¯s clear of sensors, by the bye.¡±


    Klorachamol nodded and released Moriah from her trance.


    The girl sank to squat, her eyes closed for several moments.  ¡°Ugh, that was super weird,¡± she complained once she had calmed her peers, who had not liked her hypnotized fog in the slightest.  She did not enjoy it either, being a passenger in her own body.  She resolved to master control of the process as fast as possible so she could limit how much she needed to be influenced by the state.  ¡°The peers did not like it at all either.¡±


    ¡°Well, it worked for now.  Just be careful,¡± Jenna said and hugged her.


    Moriah swallowed her nervousness, forcing back her awareness of Jenna¡¯s hag-companion and returning the hug.  ¡°But is it safe for me to be like this while still in the camp?¡± she asked, wondering if she should remain in the fog whenever inside the camp¡¯s boundaries.  Well, she definitely did not want to, but she really wondered if it was safe to drop it here.


    ¡°Very few will come into this cave without announcing themselves,¡± Jenna reassured her.  ¡°I think it¡¯s perfectly okay to drop the facade here.  Besides, no one sneaks up on Klorachamol.¡±


    And right as she said that, Klorachamol triggered Moriah¡¯s hypnotized state.  A moment later, Rocklite passed through the cave¡¯s door-curtain.


    ¡°Klorachamol, Jenna,¡± the senior scrambler said, nodding to them.  He gazed at Moriah for a long moment without smile or expression, and then focused on the two adults.  ¡°So.  It is as I heard.  Ker lives.¡±  The gnarly gnome let out a loud breath and his expression eased.  ¡°This is good.  In the end, that bastard Hank failed at the very thing that got him killed.  Perhaps there is justice in this world after all.¡±  Rocklite ran his hand through his ragamuffin hair and then dropped the hand to his side.  ¡°I understand Ker has been put under your supervision again.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Klorachamol said, his eyes narrowed.


    Rocklite raised a hand, ¡°I have no reason to contest that, Klorachamol.  She¡¯s already almost too large to be an effective scrambler and she¡¯s a class by herself in any case.  If it¡¯s possible, I would like to coordinate our efforts though.  Is it true that Shaskie had part in finding her?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Klorachamol agreed cautiously.


    ¡°Do they get along?¡±


    The dark man shrugged.  ¡°As much as Ker gets along or doesn¡¯t get along with anyone.  If you¡¯re asking if Shaskie can tag along with Ker, I have no objections.  Might keep the troublesome idiot from getting lost again.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t contest any claims Ker finds . . . .¡±


    ¡°It will be nice to have verbal reports on what she finds,¡± Jenna said, laughing.  ¡°We¡¯ll still need to send a data chip with her wherever those two go, but that¡¯s unavoidable.¡±


    Rocklite relaxed.  He had feared Klorachamol and Jenna would oppose him because of Hank.  ¡°Good.  Then I will assign Shaskie to Ker for the foreseeable future.¡±  The gnarly gnome let out a breath of pent-up worry.  ¡°To tell the truth, I¡¯m trying to head off guard-stupidity.  Now that Ker has returned, they might interfere with her mining, fearing her disappearance again.  That would decrease her effectiveness, which would make the guards angry.  If that happened, they would definitely accuse me of hindering her.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like them.  Cause the problem and blame us for it,¡± Jenna agreed with a chortle.  She sidled up to the gnome, the small man coming to her waist, but otherwise having the proportions of a normal human.  She ruffled his head and purred her next words, ¡°Anyway, my dear Rocklite, is there anything else I might do for you, you hunk of a gnome?¡±


    Batting the offending hand away, Rocklite muttered.  ¡°Stop that Jenna.  It is unbecoming.¡±


    ¡°But Rocklite, I really like your hair,¡± Jenna declared with a cute pout.


    The poor gnome reddened and ducked away from the woman¡¯s teasing.  ¡°I will let Shaskie know.  I will clear it with the depot guard.¡±  The man then beat a hasty retreat through the cave¡¯s curtain.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Jenna smirked at the retreating gnome, but as soon as he disappeared so did the smile and she grumped, ¡°Okay, I was wrong.¡±  She looked at the expressionless Moriah.  ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to stay ¡®dead eye Ker¡¯ while in the camp after all.¡±


    ¡°We should leave.  If her - companions are distressed . . . .¡± Klorachamol shrugged, not completing the thought.  ¡°Since the commander wants her reprovisioned and out mining ¡®immediately,¡¯ no one will think it too strange.¡±


    After getting her new mining supplies from the depot, Moriah left the camp with Klorachamol and Shaskie.  Jenna had already left to meet the dwarves at the agreed upon location.  A half an hour out of the camp, Klorachamol triggered Moriah¡¯s release.  Once again Moriah had to calm Radar, Jonal and Xian through their link.  Once their agitation ebbed enough, Moriah glanced up at Klorachamol, now able to sense his ugly hag-companion even without touching him for some unfathomable reason.  It was a mildly annoying tickle at the edges of her mind that she could not itch at all.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if this is going to work,¡± she said after a brief pause, grunting as she stood.  ¡°The boys are getting really upset.  I understand I need to make deposits and all, but I won¡¯t be able to stay in the camp at all.¡±  She really wanted to stay with her new companions, to talk and have fun, but she knew the peers had been on the verge of disobeying her to come to her rescue this time.


    ¡°We will figure something out,¡± Klorachamol said.


    And they did, shortly after convening with the others and explaining her concerns.  ¡°Simple be solution,¡± Corko declared, smiling huge at Ker.  He spread his arms outwards to encompass all.  ¡°Caverns beyond boundary be for living.  Child appearance to make, for to deposit as gnarly.  To leave once again.  To be beyond sight, beyond awareness, earth eaters may remain.¡±


    Moriah eyes gleamed, excited by the suggestion.  She hugged the large small man and smooched his cheek.  ¡°And you all will come and visit and live with me too?  And we can talk and everything?¡±  Corko harrumphed and crossed his arms, but an ever so slight smile touched his attempt to be surely.


    ¡°Everything?  Matter of awe,¡± Jenjen bellowed, his voice and laughter echoing down the tunnels.  Moriah blushed.  Jenjen held out his hand and a rock flew up from the ground to smack into his palm.  ¡°Earth knows the Ker.  This,¡± he raised the rock to eye level, ¡°acknowledges thy being, as it does to gnarly, as too fae of earthen nature.¡±


    Moriah stared at the rock and then Jenjen, not understanding.


    ¡°Ho ho ho,¡± Jenjen bellowed again at her perplexed expression.  ¡°Compliment, compliment.¡±  Changing the subject abruptly, he said ¡°s?tone.¡±


    Moriah blinked, more confused than ever.  ¡°Um, what?¡±


    ¡°s?tone, naming of stone. Today lessons shall begin in the Gnarly,¡± he answered, his great smile of amusement widening further and further.  Moriah stared, mouth open.  ¡°Speak the name of stone,¡± the powerful dwarf held the stone out to her.


    Moriah stammered a sound having nothing to do with the gnarly word save intent.  Shaskie squealed her delight, pronouncing the word without difficulty, joining the lesson uninvited.  Moriah glared at her and then tried to say the Gnarly word again, continuing until she got it right.

 Chapter 14 - You Cannot Help

    Five weeks after Moriah¡¯s resurrection, Klorachamol¡¯s masters summoned him topside.  Jenna sulked in Moriah¡¯s cavern listening to Corko give one of his language lessons, Jenjen absent somewhere.  Moriah sat with Shaskie and Radar draped over her legs.  Xian and Jonal were not present, but one of the girl¡¯s guardians always escorted her unless she entered the mine sensors.


    Moriah glanced over at Jenna, disturbed by the woman¡¯s depression.  Once Corko wrapped up his current discussion of the three hundred and seventy-one different words for earth used in Gnarly, Moriah moved over to sit next to her.


    ¡°Jenna, is Klorachamol alright?¡±


    Jenna snorted out her nose.  ¡°You¡¯re the observant one.¡±  Deserts would be rainforests in comparison to the dryness of her reply.  Moriah glanced away and waited.  Jenna softened her next words, ¡°He¡¯ll be alright, but I always worry.  They only summon him to eliminate someone their normal assassins can¡¯t handle, so I worry.¡±  She shrugged her helplessness.  ¡°And he always comes back in a foul mood.  He can get rather rough.¡±


    ¡°Eliminate?¡±  Moriah said, cocking her head sideways puzzled by the strange word, at least in context.  ¡°What do you mean, eliminate?¡±


    Corko answered, having come over to the two humans.  ¡°The death master.  Klorachamol be death bringer, for payment.¡±


    Jenna glared at the dwarf.  Corko grunted at the force of the gaze.  ¡°Ease to you Jenna.  The Ker must need understanding of knowledge, companions to be.  Earlier known, easier known, or not.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to be so blunt,¡± Jenna muttered, flipping her hair over one shoulder and playing with its mass.


    Corko dismissed the objection, addressing Moriah again.  ¡°Complex be Klorachamol.  History nor purpose, exile be unknown to we gnarly.  ¡®Tis strange, a fault in the earth.  The death master be of death, yes.  Yet.  Same death master protects the weak and condones not the abuse of power.  According to unique precepts, the Klorachamol acts in harmony and discord of expectations.  Mayhaps conflict with those who control his imprisonment?¡±  Corko shook his head and shrugged.  ¡°It is supposition.¡±


    ¡°Too much supposition, Master Corko,¡± Jenna said, back straight.


    ¡°Klorachamol¡¯s an assassin?¡±  Moriah words overlapped Jenna¡¯s, her eyes wide in surprise.


    Jenna redoubled her glare at the dwarf, but then all expression vanished and she shifted her unwavering gaze to Moriah.  In an emotionless voice, she simply said, ¡°Yes.¡±


    Moriah quirked her mouth to one side in an expression of perplexed thought.  ¡°I did not know that.¡±  Neither Jenna nor Corko made reply, waiting.  And then Moriah¡¯s eyes widened and she blurted out, ¡°Oh no!¡± as she stood up and dumped both Shaskie and Radar to the ground and bolted across the cavern.  Radar recovered in an instant and raced after here in hot pursuit.


    ¡°Ker!¡±  Jenna yelled as the girl and her peer fled.  Before the echoes of her cry faded, Moriah vanished into one of the smaller tunnels, worming out of sight on toe and elbow.  Turning to Shaskie, Jenna snapped, ¡°What are you doing!  Get after her.¡±


    Shaskie, who was standing up from being abruptly dumped to the ground, blinked at the woman.  ¡°Huh?¡±


    Jenna¡¯s hair flared and the after image of wings sparkled behind her for the briefest of moments.  ¡°Go.  After.  Her.  Now.¡±


    Shaskie¡¯s fur stood on end and she bolted as if pursued by a daemon.


    Moriah raced as if her life were on the line, ignoring the ripping of tough fabric and delicate skin alike on rocky protrusions.  Apparently, Xian and Jonal had truly stumbled into serious trouble, the implications of which still bubbled up in Moriah¡¯s memories.  But the implications aside, the one thing her memories declared with complete certainty was that if she delayed reaching them, they would die.  Praying for all she was worth for time, Moriah chose branching passages without hesitation, never slowing for even a heartbeat.


    Approaching a dead end, Moriah pulled out her old lesion knife and blasted the thin wall to the chamber beyond out of her way.  On the other side of the wall a war raged, a war of crystal ferrets.  The boys had in fact stumbled into another queen¡¯s territory and been attacked. The new ferrets had herded her two peers into a corner of their nest and currently held them hostage, attacking in small waves.  While injured, Moriah¡¯s peers still held their own for the moment.  Fortunately, the crystal venom did not affect the ferrets themselves, else they would have become zombies a long time hence.


    With Moriah¡¯s arrival, all fighting ceased.  When queens met, worker and warrior alike stood aside.  Only the queens and peers would contest now.


    Turning in one mass unison, the hostile ferrets stared at this new intruder, of a sudden uncertain and confused.  A foreign queen had entered.  They knew it.  They sensed it.  The flavor of the link of peers lay unmistakable upon it.


    Yet not a queen.  Her personal flavor tasted other upon their senses than memory declared ought to be.  Beyond this strangeness, she looked to be one of the predator-prey who hunted them, whom they hunted in turn.


    The territory¡¯s queen flowed into view, hissing at her strange adversary, arching her back and baring her fangs.  The cavern¡¯s mass of naturally armored ferrets opened up a passage, allowing Moriah¡¯s peers to scurry to her.  The bristling queen moved to within twenty yards, her five peers ranged behind her.  She glowered at the intruders.  Moriah shuddered.  Those five peers were the size of large otters, as compared to her own small-weasel sized peers.


    And they were unscathed, unlike the boys who were oozing from numerous wounds ripped into their tough, crystal hard hides.  Moriah took a deep breath to quell the emptiness she felt in her chest and stomach.  Sweat tickled down her face and drenched her coveralls. She had to calm down and tend her peers, or else she would have no chance of winning the coming conflict.  Extending her hands out slow and careful, she whispered soft words of encouragement, willing health to her peers.  Her silvery length of hair rippled as if water washed over it in streams.  Streaks of color faded and brightened within its strands, the lighting affect bright enough to shimmer amidst the faint light from the crystal saturated cavern.


    The queen ferret and her peers watched unmoving.  Strict protocols existed in ferret society concerning queen conflicts, and to attack while a queen healed her peers did not so much as cross their minds.  The purpose of such conflicts was not one of death, but of sovereignty and territory.  Whichever queen lost would serve the other and the peers of the victorious queen would mate with the loser, thus intermingling the nest memories.


    Moriah did not want to lose.  Aside from the fact that biting was a fair action in the coming battle, and she lacked any natural immunity to their venom, the thought of the other matter scared her no end.  She pulled out her lesion knife, thinking that she was going to have one shot at this.  She had to force the rival queen to submit immediately.


    Something, a shift in pressure, a change of intent, maybe a noise, made her aware of Shaskie behind her, but she dared not turn to look.  That would precipitate the queen¡¯s attack.  Softly she said, ¡°Shaskie, get out of here.¡±


    Shaskie stood outside the sea of glowing ferrets, scared beyond reason.  ¡°I, I cannot leave you.¡±


    ¡°You can only die in this place.  Wait for me at home.¡±


    ¡°Vut . . . .¡±


    ¡°This is my affair and my responsibility.  You cannot interfere.  Please.¡±  Moriah watched the other queen, her gaze never wavering.  Hardening her voice, Moriah said, ¡°Shaskie, I cannot win with you distracting me.  Leave.  Now.¡±


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    ¡° Y, yes.¡±  Shaskie spun around and fled.  If she could get to Corko, maybe he could do something to help her newest friend.


    With Shaskie gone, all Moriah could do was wait.  For an intruding queen to attack first was not allowed.  It just did not happen in ferret culture.


    The queen clicked her jaws and her five peers flowed forward.  Moriah¡¯s three peers responded and battle joined.  Metal bodies clashed, the three weasel sized peers meeting the five otter sized peers in a mighty clash of armored bodies.  Fortunately, the three managed to stop the five dead in their tracks, two flying sideways into two others.  The queen charged her rival, fangs bared.


    Moriah shot a bolt of non-lethal force energy at the queen, non-lethal to a creature of metal and crystal at least.  The queen¡¯s forward charge abruptly reversed and she flew all the way across the bubble to slam into the far wall.  Moriah then shot each of the rival  peers, trying to be careful.  She knew how important peers were and did not want to kill them accidentally.


    Both the queen and her peers recovered quickly, but did not charge again.  The queen  arched her back and began circling, two of her peers moving to flank her protectively.  Moriah advanced.  Leveling the knife again, she staggered her rival and her two guards with rapid bolts of energy.  Praying her opponents had been stunned enough and relying on her own peers to stop the remaining three, the strangest of ferret queens rushed forward, ducking under her opponent¡¯s chin.  She placed her mouth on the queen¡¯s throat in the ritual of submission, holding the lesion knife ready in case the other queen did not submit.  The queen lowered to the ground, rolling over in the position of submission.


    Moriah sighed, relief washing over her and leaving a wave of weakness.  That had gone better than she thought possible.  The peers stopped their fight, separating into separate camps, the two stunned peers staggering to their feet again.  Now Moriah had a choice to make.  This could be a hostile takeover, in which case she would take the full spoils which were her due and enslave the other queen; or it could be a cooperative takeover, the establishment of an alliance of sort.  In that case, Moriah would be the senior of equals.


    Moriah was all for the alliance option.  Enslaved queens often rechallenged and won the second time around, but according to her memories alliances usually held firm over time.  She pulled away from the queen and withdrew to the destroyed section of wall.  The boys came over to her and she crouched to stroke them, much to their pleasure.  They knew they had done well.


    Moriah grinned at them with fond adoration and sent them to do their duty.  They advanced on the prostrate queen.  Moriah thought it was a good thing, but she had forgotten about the link she had with her peers and gasped as she experience the process with them.


    ¡°I¡¯m so mortified,¡± she whispered, burying her face in her hands and trying to force the sensations away.  Once matters were settled according to ferret tradition, Moriah took just enough ore so the subjugated queen would not think her weak and then departed.  Because she only had a single sack with her, she forced all five of the subjugated peers as well as several of the other queen¡¯s children to help her carry her spoils.  However, she did leave Xian with the other queen for the moment.


    Standing in the entrance she had created, she stared at the other queen for a long moment.  ¡°I cannot call you ¡®the other queen.¡¯  That won¡¯t do at all.  I hereby name you Lessi.¡±  The entire cavern stiffened as the naming sank into the queen, her peers and her children, the glow from their bodies brightening a notch.  Moriah gave a decisive nod.  ¡°I think we will get along fine.¡±  Her eyes narrowed and her voice sharpened.  ¡°Don¡¯t ever bite me.¡±


    Shaskie sprang into the cave where Corko and Jenna waited.  ¡°Corko!  Corko, Ker is in trouvle!  Ferrets, lots and lots of ferrets.  Hundreds.  Thousand, no villions ,everywhere.¡±  Shaskie sprang into the dwarf¡¯s arms and planted her paws on his chest.  ¡°Villions of them!¡±


    Jenna grabbed the kytosine by the scruff and yanked her around so they were nose to nose.  ¡°Stop.¡±  The single word dropped like an axe, cutting the tirade off.  Jenna released the young kyt back into Corko¡¯s arms and then said.  ¡°Calmly.  There cannot be millions of them.  Just tell us what¡¯s happened.¡±


    Shaskie took a deep breath.  ¡°When I found her, she was surrounded vy a cave full of ferrets, she and her three.  I did not know what to do.  I couldn¡¯t do anything.¡±  Tears threatened to overwhelm the young kyt.  In a soft voice, ¡°She . . . she ordered ve to leave.  She said I would ve in her way, that I could not helv her at all.¡±  More loudly, ¡°Corko, you have to help her.¡±


    Corko grunted and shook his head.  ¡°Nay.  I cannot fight so many earth eaters within their own nest, nor to arrive before conclusion.¡±


    ¡°Vut we have to helv her,¡± Shaskie wailed.


    Jenna stood looking at the hole where Moriah had gone.  ¡°Are we going to lose her again?¡±  She played with her hair absently while adding in a quiet voice, ¡°At least she did not abandon us though.¡±


    Corko put his hand upon Shaskie¡¯s head.  ¡°Correct decision made, young Shaskie.  Nothing could you have done.  Of all, Ker know the earth eaters best.¡±  He hummed for a moment, then asked, ¡°Speak to her you did.  Not fighting at time?¡±


    ¡°Er, no?  No, they were not fighting,¡± Shaskie said, her eyes glancing back at the hole in the wall.


    ¡°Then hope be allowed,¡± Corko said and settled into a squat.  ¡°We shall wait.¡±


    Shaskie lowered her head dejected.  ¡°Surely Klorachavol could have gotten her free of them.¡±


    ¡°He would not,¡± Jenna said with a sardonic smile.  ¡°She went there of her own will, for some reason or other.  He might have watched the encounter, but he would not have intervened even if she died because of it.¡±  Jenna crossed her arms and pursed her lips.  ¡°Probably.  He might have.  Hard to say with Ker.¡±  She too looked at the small hole in the tunnel wall and then up at the tunnel ceiling.  ¡°Besides, it would only take one bite of those things and Klorachamol would be as dead as you or I.¡±


    ¡°Why did she tell ve to leave?¡±  Shaskie muttered, jumping from the crook of Corko¡¯s arm.


    Jenna sighed and sat on a rock.  ¡°I don¡¯t know.  As Corko said, we can but wait.¡±  She fixed Shaskie with her eyes, ¡°Unless you want to go check on her right now?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Shaskie shivered.  ¡°I don¡¯t want to vecome a zomvie.¡±


    Three hours later, Shaskie¡¯s curiosity trumped her fear.  ¡°Going to check on her,¡± she declared without preamble and sprang into the hole.  ¡°I¡¯ll ve careful,¡± she called over her shoulder in anticipation of Jenna¡¯s opened mouth.  Jenna glowered at the hole for a long moment.  Corko laughed at her.


    Shaskie prowled through the tunnel, pausing every few steps to listen.  Her curiosity had driven her back into the tunnel, but now her fear made her cautious.  Pausing once again, she stiffened at a distant scrabbling.  Shaskie backed up until she could turn around without problem and waited.


    Minutes ticked by as the walls of the tunnel closed in on the kyt.  Shaskie licked her lips and ran her tongue over her sharp teeth.  The noise grew louder and louder until its thunder echoed in the cavern of Shaskie¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Shaskie?¡±  The Kytosine jumped, spun in place and took three steps before the meaning registered.


    ¡°K, Ker?¡±


    ¡°Yep.  Shaskie, everything¡¯s been resolved so you don¡¯t have to be scared anymore,¡± Moriah said.  She had sensed Shaskie¡¯s mixture of fear and curiosity before ever seeing the miner¡¯s light.  ¡°By the way, could you dim that light of yours?  It¡¯s hard to crawl with my eyes shut.¡±  Moriah continued down the tunnel, coming into view of the miniature panther girl.  ¡°I¡¯m heading back to the cave, but could you go and warn Corko and Jenna that there are going to be a few extra ferrets coming into the cave?¡±


    ¡°What havvened?  Er, what occurred?¡±


    ¡°Long story.  If I tell you now, I will have to do it again for Corko and Jenna.  Patience, please.¡±


    ¡°Why do I have to be patient?¡±  Shaskie grumped.  ¡°I came back into the tunnel to find out what occurred and everything.¡±  Despite the complaint, Shaskie scampered down the tunnel to warn the cave.


    Moriah snickered under her breath and continued down the tunnel herself, bumping her head on the ceiling once as she crawled on her belly.  ¡°Wish I could move in these tunnels as easily as Shaskie,¡± she muttered to herself as a rock protrusion once again dug into her side.


    Several minutes later Moriah struggled out of the hole into her home cavern where the others waited.  Lessi¡¯s peers and children swarmed down the wall to the floor and deposited the ore they carried in piles, then stood around the cavern in an ever-growing sea of glowing crystal embedded in metallic bodies.  Moriah sensed their curiosity as they watched Corko, Jenna and Shaskie, but sent Lessi¡¯s ferrets away as soon as the last one deposited its load.  She did not want an accidental nipping this late in the game.  Both Jonal and Radar remained with her.


    Just after the last of the conquered queen¡¯s peers vanished, Jenjen entered the cave.  He spared the piles of ore and crystal lying around the cavern a glance, but then ignored them.  He could feel the stone of the cavern resonate the after image of ferret essence.


    ¡°Greetings cousin,¡± Corko greeted him.


    ¡°Greetings Corko, Jenna, Shaskie, Ker.¡±  Jenjen speared Moriah with his eyes.  ¡°Ker, explain to this one.  Sense earth eaters of different flavor.¡±  He nodded at the two peers.  Corko, Jenna and Shaskie looked at Moriah, nodding their curiosity for a full explanation.


    Moriah sighed, sat down and began explaining what had happened as best she could, finishing with her understanding of her current position.  ¡°So now I¡¯m their over-queen or something.  I can sense Lessi right now, kind of like I sense the peers, but not as strongly.  I even know where her peers are, though not her children at this distance.  I can communicate with the children if I¡¯m close enough, but otherwise it¡¯s more like a hazy impression I receive through my contact with Lessi.¡±


    ¡°So, you have expanded your authority,¡± Jenna said over her still crossed arms, giving the child a critical look.  ¡°You¡¯re turning into an empress instead of a queen.¡±


    ¡°No, not at all.  This is normal,¡± Moriah protested.  ¡°I remember it happening many times in the past.  Sometimes I have been the victor and sometimes the loser.¡±


    ¡°You remember?  Conflict happened afore?¡±  Corko asked.


    Moriah blinked and shook her head vigorously, clearing the images in her mind.  ¡°No, not to me.  To previous queens.  I think . . . I think I remember things that Xian, Radar and Jonal remember sometimes.¡±  Moriah¡¯s laugh shook unsteadily.  ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s hard to remember who I am, which memories are mine and which are theirs.¡±

 Chapter 15 - No Quota

    Several hours later, Moriah and Shaskie entered the camps¡¯ main cavern, Moriah pushing a cart topped with several bulging bags laid over a brimming load of ore and crystal.  As usual, activity ceased as Ker pushed the cart across the main cavern and entered the depot.


    A guard spotted the two scramblers immediately and strode over to them.  ¡°Ker, use the special counter.  In fact, for future reference, no matter what you bring, you are to go there, even if it¡¯s nothing but dirt.¡±  He pointed at an empty counter off to one side.  Moriah did not look at him, merely turning and walking over to it, Shaskie following behind, her tail lashing back and forth under the pressure of the guard¡¯s attention.  Guards were bad and should be avoided at all costs.  She did not like having them spotlighting her friend like this.


    A different head clerk from before stepped to the other side of the counter.  He glanced at the guard but jerked his eyes forward again.  His hands trembled, sweat dribbled down the side of his face and he was breathing harder than a moment ago.  Moriah plopped the three bags onto the counter, her expression as dead eyed vacant as always.


    The clerk took a steadying breath and calmed down.  Dumping the bag¡¯s content onto the processing counter, the man froze for a moment in surprise even though he was somewhat prepared for something unusual.  His eyes narrowed.  He could already tell the ore was of the highest quality, excess rock cut away to leave behind only that of worth.  Swallowing and wiping the sweat from his brow, he forced the presence of the guard from his mind.  He dared not make a mistake.  The head clerk did pause once as he processed the submission to look at Ker, swallowing.  It crossed his mind that the weird anomaly of a human-looking girl might actually have earthen fae blood in ascendence.  That or some equally unlikely phenomenon.  How else could she consistently bring such high value ore?


    After tabulating the deposit, he stepped back and addressed the guard, his eyes lowered.  He truly disliked dealing with the guards, as much as any of the miners did, but the mere presence of Ker brought their attention no matter what and not to acknowledge them would be the riskier path.


    ¡°Sir,¡± he indicated the terminal screen.


    The guard moved casually so he could see, but then he took a step toward the screen and adjusted it so he could see better.  ¡°Sweet mother,¡± he muttered, glancing at the two small miners, but then focusing on Ker.  ¡°Wait here for a moment,¡± he commanded and then he took a step back.  Several long moments of silence passed before the guard stepped forward again and addressed Ker.  ¡°Ker, you are hereby exempt from daily and weekly quota, just keep bringing stuff like this when you do make deposit.¡±


    Moriah stared ahead at nothing, not giving any indication she heard the guard at all.  Shaskie said, ¡°Understood sir.  What about me?¡±


    ¡°You just keep Ker safe.  Keeping her alive and making drops is your quota.¡±


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    ¡°Understood sir,¡± Shaskie said, a bit of trepidation in her heart.  Ker fought deadly wars with crystal ferrets and such like.  She really did not want to be responsible for the crazy girl¡¯s well-being.


    The clerk put Ker¡¯s deposit into a box and the guard took it away personally.  Once he had left the cavern, Ker turned and left with Shaskie walking beside her.  Ker¡¯s eyes never glanced to the side or even twitched.  Crossing the main room, her relief knew no bounds once they made Klorachamol¡¯s cave.


    As soon as she entered, Jenna pounce on her, picking her up and hugging her and kissing her.  ¡°How did it go?  They didn¡¯t give you any trouble, did they?¡±  Shaskie explained what happened in the depot and what the guard said since Moriah still maintained the dead eye persona.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned,¡± Jenna shook her head.  ¡°I didn¡¯t think that kind of thing ever happened.¡±  She grew serious, ¡°But be careful.  The guards do not always play with a full deck.  If you¡¯re too much in their thoughts, they may do something bad.¡±  She shrugged.  ¡°But what can we do?¡±


    When Jenna first hugged her, Moriah once more sensed the fae woman¡¯s hag, even through her dead-eyed state.  Or perhaps it would be better to say, she saw Jenna¡¯s resident hag in a completely different way being without the normal distractions and reactions she normally possessed.  The difference was subtle, but ever so significant .  Jenna¡¯s hag did not try to hide.  Instead, its tentacles openly pervaded the woman to such a degree it threatened Moriah¡¯s equilibrium.  She would have pulled away, but she really did not care, like at all.


    Yep, that hypnotism really was quite effective.


    Two days passed, Moriah and the others staying clear of the camp within the distant caves set up as Moriah¡¯s semi-permanent residence.  Jenna continued to brood over Klorachamol¡¯s absence, and Moriah thoroughly picked up the loneliness from the woman.  Thus, when the man in question returned that day without warning, Moriah threw her arms around him in a spontaneous welcome-hug.


    Moriah almost died for real as the agitated assassin reacted, the blow to her body knocking her back against the far wall hard.  ¡°Urk,¡± the girl-child grunted, coughing up a bit of blood.  She slumped to her knees and held her stomach.  She looked up at the assassin with a confused expression.


    Klorachamol shook his head and sighed, ¡°Girl, don¡¯t ever attack me like that, or you¡¯ll die early.¡±  His eyes found what they were seeking and he strode over to Jenna, who stood from her rock to greet him with a hug and passionate kiss.


    Breaking her lips free from his for a moment, Jenna ordered everyone out of the cavern.  Jenjen immediately marched across the cavern, Shaskie dangling by the scruff of the neck and complaining loudly.  Jenjen grabbed Moriah by the wrist and hauled her behind him as he passed her.


    ¡°But why do we have to leave,¡± Moriah demanded as she stumbled along behind the implacable dwarf.


    ¡°To them be privacy granted,¡± Jenjen answered.


    ¡°They haven¡¯t needed it before,¡± Shaskie countered, dangling loosely as she apparently had given up all struggle.  ¡°You know this is really undignified, don¡¯t you, you vig vully.¡±  Only her mother had ever carried her about by the scruff of the neck, with the occasional exception of Jenna, who sort of counted as a mother anyway.


    ¡°The rules of the Jenna and the Death Master need no logic,¡± Jenjen said.  ¡°But upon the Jenna commands, leave we must.¡±


    When they returned to the cave several hours later, all seemed normal again, both Jenna and Klorachamol in more stable moods.  Not stable, per say, but normal stable for them.  When Moriah gave the assassin a careful and well announced hug, she found even Klorachamol¡¯s hag had returned to its normal strength.

 Chapter 16 - History 909e AcheronLegato

    Several hours later, Moriah and Shaskie entered the camps¡¯ main cavern, Moriah pushing a cart topped with several bulging bags laid over a brimming load of ore and crystal.  As usual, activity ceased as Ker pushed the cart across the main cavern and entered the depot.


    A guard spotted the two scramblers immediately and strode over to them.  ¡°Shaskie, have Ker use the special counter.  In fact, for future reference, no matter what you bring, just go there first, even if it¡¯s nothing but dirt.¡±  He pointed at an empty counter off to one side.  Moriah did not look at him, merely turning and walking over to it, Shaskie following behind, her tail lashing back and forth under the pressure of the guard¡¯s attention.  Guards were bad and should be avoided at all costs.  She did not like having them spotlighting her friend like this every freaking time.


    A different head clerk from before stepped to the other side of the counter.  He glanced at the guard but jerked his eyes forward again.  His hands trembled, sweat dribbled down the side of his face and he was breathing harder than a moment ago.  Moriah plopped the three bags onto the counter, her expression as dead eyed vacant as always.


    The clerk took a steadying breath and calmed down.  Dumping the bag¡¯s content onto the processing counter, the man froze for a moment in surprise even though he was somewhat prepared for something unusual.  His eyes narrowed.  He could already tell the ore was of the highest quality, excess rock cut away to leave behind only that of worth.  Swallowing and wiping the sweat from his brow, he forced the presence of the guard from his mind.  He dared not make a mistake.  The head clerk did pause once as he processed the submission to look at Ker, swallowing.  It crossed his mind that the weird anomaly of a human-looking girl might actually have earthen fae blood in ascendence.  That or some equally unlikely phenomenon.  How else could she consistently bring such high value ore?


    After tabulating the deposit, he stepped back and addressed the guard, his eyes lowered.  He truly disliked dealing with the guards, as much as any of the miners did, but the mere presence of Ker brought their attention no matter what and not to acknowledge them would be the riskier path.


    ¡°Sir,¡± he indicated the terminal screen.


    The guard moved casually so he could see, but then he took a step toward the screen and adjusted it so he could see better.  ¡°Sweet mother,¡± he muttered, glancing at the two small miners, but then focusing on Ker.  ¡°Wait here for a moment,¡± he commanded and then he took a step back.  Several long moments of silence passed before the guard stepped forward again and addressed Shaskie.  ¡°Shaskie, Ker is hereby exempt from daily and weekly quota, just keep bringing stuff like this when she does make deposit.¡±


    Moriah stared ahead at nothing, not giving any indication she heard the guard at all.  Shaskie said, ¡°Understood sir.  What about me?¡±


    ¡°You just keep Ker safe.  Keeping her alive and making drops is your quota.¡±


    ¡°Understood sir,¡± Shaskie said, a bit of trepidation in her heart.  Ker fought deadly wars with crystal ferrets and such like.  She really did not want to be responsible for the crazy girl¡¯s wellbeing.


    The clerk put Ker¡¯s deposit into a box and the guard took it away personally.  Once he had left the cavern, Ker turned and left with Shaskie walking beside her.  Ker¡¯s eyes never glanced to the side or even twitched.  Crossing the main room, her relief knew no bounds once they made Klorachamol¡¯s cave.


    As soon as she entered, Jenna pounce on her, picking her up and hugging her and kissing her.  ¡°How did it go?  They didn¡¯t give you any trouble, did they?¡±  Shaskie explained what happened in the depot and what the guard said since Moriah still maintained the dead eye persona.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned,¡± Jenna shook her head.  ¡°I didn¡¯t think that kind of thing ever happened.¡±  She grew serious, ¡°But be careful.  The guards do not always play with a full deck.  If you¡¯re too much in their thoughts, they may do something bad.¡±  She shrugged.  ¡°But what can we do?¡±


    When Jenna first hugged her, Moriah once more sensed the fae woman¡¯s hag, even through her dead-eyed state.  Or perhaps it would be better to say, she saw Jenna¡¯s resident hag in a completely different way being without the normal distractions and reactions she normally possessed.  The difference was subtle, but ever so significant .  Jenna¡¯s hag did not try to hide like with Shaskie.  Instead, its tentacles openly pervaded the woman to such a degree it threatened Moriah¡¯s equilibrium.  She would have pulled away, but she really did not care, like at all.


    Yep, that hypnotism really was quite effective.


    Two days passed, Moriah and the others staying clear of the camp by taking up residence in some distant caves.  The dwarves set them up as Moriah¡¯s semi-permanent residence a solid three hours hike from the camp proper.  Jenna continued to brood over Klorachamol¡¯s absence, and Moriah¡¯s empathic awareness thoroughly picked up the loneliness from the woman.  Thus, when the man in question returned without warning, Moriah threw her arms around him in a spontaneous welcome-hug. Finally, some relief from the fae woman¡¯s brooding emotions.


    Moriah almost died for real as the agitated assassin reacted, the blow to her body knocking her back against the far wall hard.  ¡°Urk,¡± the girl-child grunted, coughing up a bit of blood.  She slumped to her knees and held her stomach.  She looked up at the assassin with a confused expression.


    Radar interposed himself between his queen and the dark one, hissing his warning.  But he was somewhat confused.  He was sure that his queen cared for the dark man, even after he hit her.  Should he just attack?  Should he just keep the creature away?  What the heck was he supposed to do?


    Klorachamol shook his head and sighed, ¡°Girl, don¡¯t ever attack me like that, or you¡¯ll die early.¡±  He glanced at the hissing ferret, but then his eyes scanned the rest of the room, quickly finding what he sought.  ¡°Jenna, I have returned,¡± he declared as he strode over to the fae, who stood from her rock to greet him with a hug and passionate kiss.


    Breaking her lips free from his for a moment, Jenna ordered everyone out of the cavern.  Jenjen immediately marched across the cavern, Shaskie dangling by the scruff of the neck and complaining loudly.  Jenjen grabbed Moriah by the wrist and hauled her behind him as he passed her.


    ¡°But why do we have to leave,¡± Moriah demanded as she stumbled along behind the implacable dwarf.


    ¡°To them be privacy granted,¡± Jenjen answered.


    ¡°They haven¡¯t needed it before,¡± Shaskie countered, dangling loosely as she apparently had given up all struggle.  ¡°You know this is really undignified, don¡¯t you, you vig vully.¡±  Only her mother had ever carried her about by the scruff of the neck, with the occasional exception of Jenna, who sort of counted as a mother anyway.


    ¡°The rules of the Jenna and the Death Master need no logic,¡± Jenjen said.  ¡°But upon the Jenna¡¯s command, leave we must.¡±


    When they returned to the cave several hours later, all seemed normal again, both Jenna and Klorachamol in more stable moods.  Not stable, per say, but normal stable for them.  When Moriah gave the assassin a careful and well announced hug, she found even Klorachamol¡¯s hag had returned to its normal strength.


    Over the next few weeks, nothing amazing or interesting happened.  Moriah finally felt comfortable enough to approach the assassin.  ¡°Klorachamol?¡±


    The dark man had been aware that his ward had been brooding about something, had in fact watched with some amusement as Ker prowled around him for nearly half a day.   Now that she acted human again, instead of like a zombie, she was as easy to read as anyone else, easier in many ways.  ¡°What do you want girl?¡± he finally said, exasperated by her pacing like a nervous predator.


    She grinned impishly at him.  He was not very much of a conversationalist and her plan to get him to ask first had totally played out in her favor.  ¡°Lots of things!¡± she declared with cheerful smugness.  ¡°I want to be your friend, and that seems to be going okay.  I want to be Jenna¡¯s friend, and I think I am.  And Jenjen¡¯s and Corko¡¯s and Shaskie¡¯s, and I am.  I even want to be Mr.  Elf¡¯s friend, but I am not there yet.  Oh, and Ms.  Karen¡¯s and Mr.  Restorm¡¯s too.  I am going to have to work hard!¡±


    Klorachamol frowned at mention of the elf.  ¡°Why would you want to be that elf¡¯s friend?  Do you know what he is?¡±


    Moriah had noticed that everyone disliked the elf, of course, but no one would explain why.  He did not seem that bad, except those horrible chains she sensed binding him, back during her dream.  To be honest, she had included him in her answer accidentally.  If she had thought it through before so blithely answering, she would have edited him out.  Still, she could not exactly pretend she had not included him at this point, so answered, ¡°No sir, not at all.  All I know is he has a kind heart that is bound by really icky chains.¡±


    Klorachamol¡¯s frown deepened.  ¡°Don¡¯t mess with him, Ker.  He¡¯s bad news in the worse possible way.¡±


    Moriah frowned.  He had said something similar the other times she had mentioned the elf, but refused to tell her why.  She doubted he ever would, which frustrated her.  In response, she decided if he would not explain it, it must not be important.  Dropping the subject, she plowed ahead with her original intention in approaching him.


    ¡°Klorachamol, I want you to teach me how to fight like you fight.¡±


    He sighed.  Not exactly what he had expected, it was still a nuisance.  ¡°I don¡¯t have time.  I have to meet quota.¡±


    ¡°But I have it all figured out,¡± she pleaded.  ¡°I¡¯ll provide your quota for you.  I know it will work out.  Jenjen and Corko are going to teach me too!  They¡¯re already teaching me how to speak gnarly.  It¡¯s lots of fun.  So, when do we start?¡±


    Klorachamol never knew exactly how it happened, but the lessons started that day, Shaskie tagging along.  Being very serious about it, Moriah did everything Klorachamol told her to do and could hardly move the next day.  Still, by some miracle she managed to provide his quota as she had promised, much to his disgust.  He forgot her ¡®connections.¡¯  Of course her ferret minions would be able to produce as much ore as she would ever need.


    Days, measured by quota deadlines rather than the passing of time, passed into equally vague weeks and months.  Moriah¡¯s life fell into a routine.  Formal lessons in gnarly in the morning and evening, practice drills assigned by Klorachamol mid-morning and then general lessons in things any young human ought to know.  These were given by Karen and Restorm since Moriah secretly doubted that either Jenna or Klorachamol acted normal, at least based on her pre-mine memories.


    But more than anything that she was being taught, Moriah wanted to deal with the hags in her friends, for even Karen and Restorm had some form of that monstrosity.  However, she learned quickly that none of them seemed able to discuss the hag for long and never remembered having discussed it before.  She stopped trying to discuss it at all, seeking to find a way to eliminate it in more indirect ways.


    Karen gave lessons in religion, reading and writing, history and several other interesting subjects, even covering some very basic instruction in the workings of magic in general, and runic patterns more specifically.


    Karen also possessed a solid telepathic gift, if somewhat on the weaker side.  She picked up on Moriah¡¯s telepathic link with her peers, as well as the young girl¡¯s more broad empathic sensitivities.  She thus began instructing Ker, and Shaskie when the kyt inserted her into the lessons, mental disciplines and meditation exercises to prepare them for when they started puberty and began going through the ordeal of their mental gift maturing.  The priestess had no doubt that both children would manifest in time.


    An ex-Emerite officer, Colonel Restorm taught her about the militaries of the Emerite Empire and its surrounding neighbors.  His lessons also contained other military based topics such as strategy and tactics in its many iterations.  He especially liked space applications of it, both with large fleets and single craft combat.  The man also supplemented Karen¡¯s lessons on magic with military runic patterns and arrays, and Klorachamol¡¯s lessons on the fighting arts.


    Both Karen and Restorm also included lessons on the different languages they knew, to the girls¡¯ uncertain delight.


    During off hours while Moriah studied her lessons with Shaskie, the two of them watched Klorachamol and Jenna covertly.  Despite being evicted back when Klorachamol had returned from that outside mission, the two adults did not seem to care that they were present during intimate moments.  This inconsistent attitude confused the two youths greatly.


    Time passed.  One day, the two scramblers headed out as usual for one of their forays again.  About forty minutes out from Moriah¡¯s caves, the two girls came around a bend and saw a tall man standing in the middle of the passage.


    ¡°Mr.  Elf!¡±  Moriah cried out.  She had been wondering if she would ever see the elf again since he had not appeared at all since her return.  Without hesitation, she ran up to him as he stood staring at her with a peculiar expression.  She stopped several yards away and said, ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you to show up, sir.  I¡¯m so happy.¡±  Moriah grinned up into his eyes.


    Klierallan gazed down into the child¡¯s bright smile, perplexed.  He had kept his distance and given the others time to explain their understanding of who he was.  To be honest, he somewhat dreaded this moment of confrontation and had been putting it off.  Why he stood there now even he could not explain.


    But what he sensed from the girl was far more perplexing than his own weird actions.  Now that he was this close, he could tell that Ker had changed fare more than he thought possible.  Much of the potential he had sensed, potential which should not have emerged for many, many years yet, lay awakened.  In fact, the girl¡¯s awakened potential far exceeded what he had originally perceived.


    But beyond even all that, he was most perplexed by the open, unguarded welcome Ker greeted him with.  While he could remember that there had been a time when such was given him, he could not actually remember such times or happenings.  He did not know how to react to this strangeness at all.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Finally the elf whispered in a rough voice, ¡°Do you know what I am?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Moriah chirped, her expression turning surly.  ¡°But nobody will actually tell me anything about you, so it must not be very important,¡± Moriah declared.


    ¡°You are wrong, Ker,¡± the elf said, amusement now coloring his tone.  His voice sounded hollow to Moriah¡¯s ears and senses.  ¡°They will not tell you because they do not think it something to be discussed lightly or casually.¡±


    Moriah tilted her head at him for a moment.  She then took one step toward him primly, hands clasped behind her back.  She grinned at him and leaned forward with a rocking motion on her heels.  ¡°Is it about those chains that bind your heart to that really icky thing?¡±  The facade of amusement froze on the elf¡¯s face, except his eyes hardened to flint.  ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±  Moriah wagged a finger at him.  ¡°You have a good heart!¡±  Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed, she darted past him, ¡°Let¡¯s go Shaskie!¡±


    Shaskie skirted around the elf.  Besides all bad things the adults hinted at, Shaskie could feel the very warp and woof of reality complaining.  She really did not understand Moriah at all sometimes.  How could her friend act so blithely around this thing?  Could she not feel how the very fabric of reality warped and twisted at the elf¡¯s very presence?


    Racing to the narrow tunnel the two planned to explore this time, Moriah stopped and turned back to the elf as Shaskie darted into the entrance ahead of her.  The elf still stood watching them. ¡°Hey, Mr.  Elf?  I would like to learn your language.  Would you be willing to teach me the elvan languages?  The others are teaching me a bunch of other languages too, but none of them will teach me elvan.  Think about it if you would.  I like you and want to learn lots of stuff from you too!¡±  With a grin and a nod, the girl spun and dove into the hole after Shaskie without waiting for a response.


    Klierallan stared after the girl, his whole world shaken to its core.  Not since his hundredth birthday over nine-thousand years ago had anyone said they liked him, or wanted to learn from him, or done a single act of kindness towards him.  The universe of sentient life had to a single person rejected him and cursed his very existence.  All because of something he had no choice in.  Something he opposed and tried to prevent.  Something others forced on him against his will.


    But this one had done all those things, seemingly knowing more about his condition than he could credit.  An uncontrollable tear rolled down his cheek.  Spinning around, he vanished into the utter darkness of the passage.


    Shortly after that meeting, Moriah began disappearing from the camp for hours on end.  During those times, she met with Klierallan, learning the Sylvan language in its three dialects, Common, High and Court.  Common Sylvan contained the everyday speech patterns, syntax and words used by all elves.  High Sylvan, on the other hand, contained those used in formal settings and more elegant occasions.  It was considered coarse and unrefined in elvan society to use Common Sylvan in contexts where High was appropriate, but the reverse was not true.  Thus, if in doubt of the appropriate manner of speaking, one should use the high speech patterns.


    Court Sylvan was reserved for royal occasions, most holy ceremonies and other exceptionally significant events.  It was considered arrogance and presumption to use Court Sylvan in any context other than where it was appropriate.  It was better to speak Low Sylvan during all occasions than to incorrectly use the Court dialect, but it was best to take the High road whenever in doubt.


    Moriah really enjoyed learning from Klierallan.  Still, that one held himself always in reserve and the mask of his fake amusement became more and more apparent to the empathically sensitive Moriah.  Moriah did not know exactly where she fell with the elf.  Sometimes she thought he liked her, other times she wondered if he really wanted her around.


    However, one day a couple years after he began teaching her, Klierallan opened up to her and told her his full name, which turned out to be quite the mouthful - Klierallan mes mes Rancill lrem Xianall, AcheronLegato.


    Moriah repeated his name and smiled at him warmly.  ¡°Thank you for telling me, Klierallan.¡±


    ¡°Do you know the significance of it?¡±


    Moriah¡¯s smile turned into a grin.  ¡°Of course!  It¡¯s your wonderful name.¡±


    ¡°Stop that.  You wanted to know why I am so despised at one time.¡±


    Moriah¡¯s grin faltered and she shook her head.  ¡°It does not matter.  You are my friend and I don¡¯t really care what reason others conjure up against you.¡±


    Klierallan ignored her and continued, ¡°AcheronLegato, called the black house in the realms of elves and gnarly both, and nothing so nice by the fae.¡±  Klierallan almost sounded bitter as he spoke, which was unusual.  Normally he hid behind his ever slightly-amused mask.


    Moriah bit her lip, torn.  She did want to know, and yet she didn¡¯t.  Klierallan did not seem to notice her reserve, his eyes looking into a vast distance of time and space.


    ¡°The house of traitors who betrayed all life in exchange for a moment of power.  They discovered the existence of a powerful being in another dimension close to our own, but kept it a secret from the other noble houses.  At first, they did not understand its true nature and conversed with it freely.  At least that¡¯s what they claimed.  During that time it so corrupted them that when they finally did understand its foul nature, they no longer cared - evil incarnate, a being of unfathomable malice and greed, but also of unfathomable power it seemed willing to share for a price.


    ¡°The lords and ladies of the house I was born into, the AcheronLegato, craved the power the demon offered.  The desire for ultimate power, to be the supreme rulers of the universe consumed them.¡±  Raw bitterness saturated the ancient elf¡¯s whole demeanor more and more as he continued to talk.  Moriah felt that she had almost become superfluous to his need to speak.  ¡°They came to despise their position in the courts of the elvan kingdoms, though they were blessed exceedingly in that position, being equal with the greatest.  Being the greater partner of equals.  They hated it.  They had become minor reflections of the demon itself.  In the end, they forged the demon-pact with that vile one in the great endeavor to usurp their rightful power and position.


    ¡°And they truly did gain great power through that demon-pact.  They now had the power of terror, and destruction for all they touched.  War broke out, the houses of the elvan kingdoms, the gnarly realms, the faery glens, and human tribes and kingdoms forged an alliance against the AcheronLegato and the demon-pact.  (That alliance birthed the Emerite Empire, incidentally.)  Even a few of the kobolos clans sided with the alliance, though the majority sided with the demon-pact.¡±


    ¡°The kobolos?¡±  Moriah inquired.  Hearing such ancient history from one who had lived it captured the child¡¯s curious nature.  That he remained patient with her ignorance of things he considered common knowledge helped greatly too.


    Klierallan nodded, the bitterness slipping away as her question brought him out of his past memories.  ¡°You know how the gnomes and dwarves are actually the same race, the gnarly?  ¡®Dwarf,¡¯ ¡®gnome,¡¯ words similar in significance as ¡®red-haired human¡¯ and ¡®black-haired human,¡¯ came about because of an early misunderstanding.  The gnarly people adopted the names because they think the misunderstanding hilarious.¡±


    Moriah nodded, staring at the elf with eager eyes, glad that the bitter edge in his words had lessened.  Her rapt expression actually disconcerted the exile considerably.  No one since before the demon-pact had been forged had looked at him with such an openly honest and adoring expression.


    Clearing his throat, he continued, ¡°Well, the same is true for ogres and goblins, though on a much more dramatic scale.  They are kobolos.  An ogre can have two goblin parents, while a goblin might have two ogre parents.  Goblins and ogres are often siblings, just as dwarves and gnomes.  Again, it was a misunderstanding that started the two designations, but there are significant, and rather consistent personality traits that attach to goblins as opposed to ogres, and vice versa.  Thus, the names stuck, even though it is questionable whether the kobolos, on the whole, wanted it to or not.¡±


    ¡°So goblins and ogres are the same race?¡±  Moriah asked, incredulous.  Goblins were generally the size of young human children while ogres were supposed to be huge, often over ten feet tall and proportionately wider than even the most buff human males.


    ¡°Indeed, but do not make the mistake of dealing with them the same.  They respond as differently to the same situation as any two independent races ever could.¡±  The elf held up one cautionary finger.


    ¡°So, some of the kobolos sided with the alliance.  Are some good then, or did they do it because they recognized the true danger the demon-pact presented?¡±  Moriah asked to bring the conversation back to the history lesson.


    Klierallan stared at her for a moment.  ¡°That is a very astute question, Ker.  One wonders if you are truly as young as you appear.¡±  Moriah grinned at him, pleased by the complement.  Shaking his head, the elf answered, ¡°Some of the kobolos have indeed defied their natural bent toward the darker traits and turned to the Light.  Those are often more dedicated to the Light than those races who claim a leaning toward more civilized behaviors.  However, some have rejected darkness and uncivilized behavior without embrace the ¡°light,¡± as some would put it.  Usually, those fall back to their baser instincts and dispositions - be wary of them.¡±


    ¡°Promise!¡±


    The elf paused, frowning.  He was not sure if she was being impertinent or not.  He had very little social experience in the last nine thousand years, especially with those who did not actively despise and ridicule him.


    ¡°So this alliance of races waged war on the demon-pact and its allies.  The war lasted for over five-hundred years.  In the end, the house AcheronLegato lay defeated, the Demon¡¯s form utterly destroyed, though its essence retained some efficacy.  That happened some eight and a half thousand years ago.  The few surviving members of the black house were executed after fair trial, save myself.  In truth, those of the alliance gave them a fairer hearing than any of them deserved.¡±


    ¡°But they did not execute you,¡± Moriah prompted, leaning forward in her eagerness.


    ¡°I was the only exception.  You see, I was never a willing participant of the demon-pact, the only dissenter.  No, I was the pact seal.  The payment.  When I realized what my family intended, I fought against them, but they used me anyway.  The demon needed a ¡®house¡¯ in this dimension to further its own agenda - me.  He would consume my essence and then have free reign to do as he wanted.  However, because I resisted, he was not able to enter me, though I am bound to him for all eternity.  When I die, he will resurrect this body with his own essence as its sole inhabitant.¡±


    ¡°But I thought he was destroyed!¡±  Moriah cried out, horrified for her friend.


    The elf shook his head, ¡°That is not what I said.  His form was destroyed, but not his essence.  That is, his ability to manifest himself directly in this dimension and universe was utterly destroyed, but what amounts to his spirit still has some presence here.¡±


    ¡°But how can a spirit exist without a means of manifesting itself?¡±  Moriah demanded.


    Klierallan allowed a shallow smile.  ¡°That happens all the time, Ker.  However, in this case, the demonic essence survived because of me.¡±


    Moriah gasped, ¡°Those chains!  That means that icky thing at the other end of those chains is the demon¡¯s essence?¡±


    The elf sighed.  She was forever interrupting him.  Still, this was an opportunity.  ¡°I have been meaning to ask you about these chains to which you keep referring.¡±


    Moriah nodded, ¡°I saw them in a dream, back during the contest with Hank.  I¡¯m pretty sure the fenguar spore caused it, though I don¡¯t really understand.¡±  Moriah shrugged acceptance of her lack.  She had asked lots of questions, but no one else had an explanation either.  ¡°I saw you in the main cavern when you touched Hank and sent those pretty sparks into him.  Too bad his darkness rejected them, huh?¡±  She looked at him until he nodded.  ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s when I saw the chains, but then the hag showed up.¡±


    Klierallan¡¯s smiled at the growing plant that was Moriah, yet to be determined weed or flower, or perhaps something else?  Not all plants fell into such neat categories.  The elf blinked, drawing his thoughts from the analogy back to the moment.  It interested him that she had seen those events and he did not want to lose this opportunity to rambling thoughts.    ¡°Hag?¡±


    Moriah nodded, big eyed as it occurred to her that maybe Klierallan might be the answer to her dilemma.  Moriah described the disfigured old hag and how she had defeated it, ¡°And there were a bazillion weeds!¡±  She threw her hands out with utter abandon and dramatic flair.  ¡°It took me a bazillion years, I¡¯m not exaggerating, I¡¯m telling the truth.¡±


    ¡°You would be dead,¡± the elf said, putting his hand to his brow and rubbing his temples.


    ¡°It was a bazillion dream years, silly elf.  Besides, it was a bazillion years and I¡¯m still alive, so you are patently wrong.¡±  She crossed her arms and dared him to contradict her.  The elf could not help it, he laughed.  Moriah grinned at him.  She liked that laughed, she liked it very, very much.  Not the mask amusement, but the real thing which she had never heard before.


    She dropped her arms and sighed.  ¡°I like it when you laugh like that.  The universe could use more of your good laughter.¡±  She paused as her friend regained control.  ¡°Klierallan?¡±  He nodded to her, so she continued.  ¡°Everyone in the mines has some form of the hag, except the guards, you and me.  Do you know what the hag might be?¡±


    ¡°Yes, child, I do.  It¡¯s a compulsion placed in their minds to keep them from escaping and keep them mining.  So, you can sense it.¡±


    Moriah nodded.  ¡°Yes.  Except . . . I think the dwarves, Klorachamol and Jenna¡¯s are fundamentally different than the others.¡±


    Klierallan nodded.  ¡°That is correct.  Those ones are a different breed from the others in this place.  The simple compulsion laid on the average miner would not be affective at all in minds of their quality.¡±


    ¡°The dwarves¡¯ seem to get weaker every day.  Klorachamol¡¯s too, except it gets stronger again after he has sex with Jenna.  I really notice it whenever he returns from one of those terrible topside missions.  Jenna¡¯s always seems strong.¡±


    Klierallan gazed at Moriah with inscrutable eyes.  ¡°You want to know how to remove the compulsions from your friends?¡±


    Moriah nodded, grinning at him.  ¡°Yes sir!  Do you know how?  Can you do it?  Can you teach me how?  I can¡¯t get anyone else to focus on the subject long enough to get them to teach me,¡± she said, pouting.


    ¡°The compulsion protects itself.  However, to answer your questions, yes, no, yes.¡±


    Moriah paused, dredging her memory for the order of her questions.  ¡°Why can¡¯t you do it if you know how?¡±


    ¡°Because it requires the trust of both parties.  We both know they do not trust me, and truthfully, I have no reason nor inclination to trust them either.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ll teach me how to do it?¡±


    ¡°If you like.¡±


    ¡°I like!¡±  She threw her arms around him in one of her spontaneous hugs.  She leaned back, still keeping her arms around the elf¡¯s waist and looked up into his eyes.  She knew her hugs made him uncomfortable, though he seemed to tolerate them for some reason.  Now that she had learned something of his past, she suspected that he needed them more than anyone else in the universe.  However, something had just connected for her about her ancient friend and those chains of his.  She buried her face in his chest, hugging tighter.  She would just keep that thought a secret for now until she knew more both about him and herself.  ¡°Thank you Klierallan.  So, when do we start?¡±


    Klierallan put his arms around Moriah, hesitantly returning the embrace.  ¡°It is not a simple task you seek.  You have the ability, but not the knowledge or experience.  You must build yourself up.  I will think about it and have a curriculum the next time we meet.¡±


    Moriah grunted and then said, ¡°Just what I need, another lesson in patience.¡±


    ¡°You need the practice and you are the one asking for more lessons.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.  Okay, so the demon lost his form in this universe, but his essence survived for all this time because of those chains, just biding his time until you die so it can reclaim its ability to materialize or whatever.  But it¡¯s not here right now.  The chains stretch out for-ever!¡±


    Klierallan considered following up on those chains again, but decided to drop the subject just then.  He felt exhausted already and needed time to think.  ¡°Yes.  The demon made a last moment gamble.  In a desperate act, when it realized it was going to lose and be destroyed, it hurled its corrupt essence into the Fae realm.  A risky move, of course, as the Fae realms contain power enough to oppose it tit-for-tat, but it had nothing to lose at that point.  I¡¯m sure it felt that even if it had to die, it would do as much damage as it could in the process.  ¡°However, I think the real purpose was to either be able to revive itself through the natural power resident in that place, provided it could convert it to its will, or to survive long enough for me to die.


    The result of that gamble has been catastrophic: over the millennia, the mere presence of his essence has acted upon the Fae realm¡¯s own essence and slowly corrupted it like a cankerous disease.  The daemon are the children of that corruption, the fae who did not flee their home and have become twisted beings with little or no resemblance to what they once were.  Those evil creatures now continue the war for control of the realms of this universe, driven by the last desire of the Demon.


    However, the Fae realms have as yet denied the demon its desired house.¡±  Klierallan shrugged.  ¡°Of course, it may be that the Demon cannot accept any other  house while still bound to me.¡±  He grimaced.  ¡°For now it is just an indistinct, cancerous seed sending out roots of corruption and decay to destroy the beauty of those realms.  Most of the Fae have abandoned their home, hoping to find a cure for that cancer, but many think it may already be too late.  The cancer has done so much damage already.¡±


    ¡°Sad,¡±  Moriah said with heart-felt sincerity.


    Klierallan just nodded his agreement.  He thought it was something very much more than sad.  He had loved the Fae realms and visited them often before the demon-pact and all that had transpired since.  Silence fell over the little alcove they met in.


    Klierallan shook himself.  ¡°Enough history and morbid talk.  Tell me the greetings for all the different classes as you would say them in low, high and court.¡±  Moriah groaned but then grinned.  She knew how to do that already.