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Chapter 2.2 - Spite And Misfortune

  Skye stared in shock. The quicksand tightened around his legs, gritty and cold as a corpse’s grip. He knew that struggle would only hasten his descent, so he forced himself to remain calm.

  “Basalt, this isn’t funny!” he hissed, then turned to the darkness and called, “Gideom! Joshem! Help!”

  “We have yer maps. We could say ya slipped into some pit, and everything ya had was lost.” Basalt shrugged. “We’d make a fortune off yer work. No one will know. Not many will care. Soon, no one will remember ya.”

  This stonemason was insane. Skye cursed, tugging to pull as the sand swallowed his thighs. He could throw himself flat and distribute his weight, but the irritating sand would get everywhere, making the rest of this journey miserable.

  “Void take you, Basalt!” he shouted. “This isn’t funny anymore.”

  Out of faith in Basalt, and out of options, he threw himself forward, belly-down, wiggling his feet to climb. It was a slow, exhausting work, rising an inch at a time. If he’d acted sooner, the vermin would’ve lost their grip already. Now, the process would take ten minutes at the least.

  “Yer at the bottom of the food chain,” Basalt said, voice low. “With everyone from barons to guildmasters, to wardens, constables, and gangs, above ya. The only things beneath ya are cattle and pets, though some folk value those more.”

  Tiny claws tugged at Skye’s boots as he tried to kick them away.

  “Don’t expect mercy from anyone. Rely only on yerself. Don’t trust anyone. Not me, and not even Gideom. He might’ve taken pity when ya were helpless. But when fortune’s involved, greed always trumps sympathy.”

  Skye felt himself sinking. Reaching to the rocky edge, he pushed with his fingertips, keeping himself afloat.

  Basalt droned on, uncaring. “Remember this: the greatest threat you’ll face, in the Deeps, and everywhere else, isn’t beasts, or fantasia, or even monsters. It’s man.”

  Several sandadillos swarmed Skye’s trapped legs, scratching at him with scythe-like claws, eager to submerge their struggling prey. His semi-petrified joints throbbed as he strained, and his hand scraped when he attempted to clutch the edge.

  Finally, Basalt raised a hand, and the sands lifted, floating Skye up like a wrapped babe. He kicked wildly, throwing the last vermin off his boots. Below, yellow-tipped tails squiggled before vanishing beneath the shifting ground.

  Basalt set him down then swept away the sand clinging to his clothes with a casual flick of his fingers. Skye felt a rush of relief, but his anger at Basalt still burned hot. It was about to boil over when—

  Mad screeching echoed through the cave, freezing Skye’s blood in his veins. Joshem and Gideom burst out the darkness, faces contorted with terror.

  “Baaaaaats!” Joshem screamed.

  A surging tide of flapping wings and piercing squeaks followed, red eyes glowing in the dark. Deepbats, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, rushed toward them. They were huge, some the size of grown men, with wingspans wider than horses.

  Basalt yanked Skye by the collar, hard enough to tear his mask off, and hurled him to the ground. Gideom and Joshem piled on top of him as Basalt pulled a thick wave of earth over everyone, forming a rocky tent.

  Skye was crushed under the weight, barely able to breathe. Madly, he swatted as crawlies squirmed across his face, then crushed something that had slithered into his shirt. The fetor stabbed his nose. He reached toward a crack in the shelter to grab his mask, but Basalt caught his arm and sealed the gap shut, leaving him choking.

  The bats took nearly three minutes to pass overhead. When the last wingbeat faded, Basalt peeled away the shelter, and everyone rose. Hurriedly, Skye snatched up his mask, shook out whatever had crawled inside, and finally drew a clean breath.

  “Everyone alright?” Basalt asked, brushing bugs from his arms. Skye grabbed a rock and smacked it against his knee.

  The large man howled in pain, jumping on the other foot, clutching his joint.

  “You coalson!” Skye shouted. He raised the rock again, but Basalt flicked a finger, sending the stone flying to the edge of the cave. Gideom grabbed him before he charged again.

  “What happened?” Joshem asked, confused.

  “You watched me suffer!” Skye shouted.

  “And then I saved yer life,” Basalt replied through gritted teeth, rubbing his knee.

  Skye struggled against Gideom’s hold. “By choking me!”

  “And ya nearly shattered my leg! Are we even now?”

  Skye reached a demanding hand. “Give me my maps.”

  Basalt relented with a grunt. While Skye checked and packed his maps, Joshem turned to his brother.

  “I found the source of the smell,” Joshem said. “It’s a bats’ roost. A gigantic bats’ roost. We should turn around.”

  “We’ll continue,” Basalt said, making Joshem’s jaw drop. “Deepbats love gems as much as flesh. They might have stashed some ahead. And it’ll be a while before they return from their hunt. Now’s our chance.”

  He marched on. Joshem trailed behind, jabbering anxiously about the stink and the danger. Skye wanted to abandon them and return, because to the Void with Basalt, that’s why. But Gideom prodded him forward and wrote: “HE’S STILL TESTING YOU. BE CAREFUL WITH WHAT YOU SAY.”

  Swearing under his breath, Skye followed, trying to drill a hole through Basalt’s skull with his glare. They’d arrived here thanks to his maps; he’d die before letting that ogre get rich using his hard work.

  Basalt slowed to walk beside him. “Boy, what do ya think of what I said back there?”

  Skye glared at him. “If that’s the type of team you are, always worried about being backstabbed, consider me out.”

  Basalt burst into laughter, making Skye flinch. “Hah, ya pass! Had ya said anything less than that, I’d have kicked ya out meself!” He clapped Skye’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Yer right! The most valuable thing in the Deeps ain’t gems or skill. It’s trust.”

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  “Yeah? Well, you pissed all over mine, so don’t expect any,” Skye snapped.

  “Trust goes both ways, kid,” Basalt said, raising his voice. “I need ya to trust I’ll save ya no matter what, and I need to be able to trust ya’d do the same. That’s what I’m givin’ by acceptin’ ya into my team, and what I’m riskin’. Ya want to feel safe with us? So do we. Bein’ alone’s horrible. No one can survive on their own, includin’ a stonemason like meself. Cherish yer team, and we’ll cherish ya.”

  Skye slowed.

  That… made sense. In a messed-up, infuriating way. But Void take Basalt! He wasn’t going to thank him for it.

  “You could’ve just said that,” he said.

  “Maybe. But then it wouldn’t have sunk as deep.”

  “Well, it sunk and drowned.”

  “Good.” Basalt smirked. “Keep it in and keep it close. Ya’ll value it in time.”

  They reached the end of the tunnel at last, and Skye wished they hadn’t.

  In the middle of the giant cavern, in a gaping hole in the ground, and for what might have been hundreds of years in the making, the bats had baked the most enormous, the most revolting, the most stomach-churning pie of guano, urine, and cadavers, all topped with a heaving layer of insects and arachnids, squirming over each other like living frosting.

  Joshem vomited inside his mask. Some of it splattered onto Skye’s face and clothes.

  “BACK!” Gideom wrote, his face a shade of green.

  High along the cavern ceiling, deepbats still clung to the stone. Most were small and asleep. The rest watched the intruders with gleaming red eyes.

  “A moment,” Basalt said, scanning the cavern. He began inspecting the walls for ore while Joshem did his best to clean his mask and face.

  Skye couldn’t take his eyes off the bats. The larger ones were females, nursing their young. They wouldn’t attack unless provoked. Unlike the vicious males who had passed over earlier. Those liked to sink their talons into anything that moved just for sport.

  “Over there,” Basalt said, pointing to a black root protruding from the stone.

  Hastily, the group crept along the edge of the pit to reach the root. Skye poked it with his metal pole, expecting it to crumble to ash like the others. Miraculously, it didn’t.

  It burned.

  A sudden flare of red light burst to life, and the bats above shrieked in alarm, flying away from the flames. The team nearly toppled into the filthy pit as the root ignited.

  “Pyrpphires!” Joshem gasped, grinning under his mask, face still streaked with dried vomit.

  The fire burned hot, painting their faces in vivid crimson. A line of flames crawled up through the crack, then up, and up, till it branched along the ceiling, forming the figure of a burning tree in the wall.

  “It’s a gemcache,” Skye whispered, too awestruck to blink. Pyrpphires were incredibly precious. He tried to calculate the worth of this cache, but his racing mind couldn’t fathom the enormity of the burning vein. Behind, the deepbats erupted into chaos, scattering away from the blaze.

  Basalt rested a heavy hand on Skye’s shoulder, grinning. “It ain’t a gemfarm, kid, but it’s a great start. Ya’ll get yer 25%, plus I’ll buy ya a surface ticket from me share.”

  Skye was about to tear up with joy. Then Gideom pulled him into a massive embrace and spun him around, both laughing. Skye had worked so hard, sacrificed so much to reach this point. The nails he’d broken, the toes he’d stubbed, and the fingers he’d mashed were all vindicated. And all the time he’d spent alone and away from his friends had a purpose at last.

  He’d made a thousand plans for what he’d do when he finally succeeded. But first, he’d buy tickets for the entire Stenser family, plus Lyonel, and invite them to a restaurant on the surface.

  That should be the end of the lectures.

  “We need to dig them out quick,” Basalt said, taking off his pack. Pyrpphire vines consumed their gems to fuel their fires until the predators were gone. “Step back.”

  He took a stance similar to before and began carefully manipulating the rocky shell around the vein, moving it slowly to avoid sparking combustion. Skye watched, the firelight flickering across his face.

  Something strange stirred in his gut. It wasn’t because of revulsion, joy, or even fear. It was something… purer. Like distilled anticipation, itching at his nerves.

  Even after this achievement, his apprehension remained tightly wound, making his stomach queasy.

  A brilliant light flared from the side, as if a sun had descended into the Deeps.

  “It’s a radethysts gemcache!” Joshem cried. Skye couldn’t look directly at him, but the young man’s silhouette danced like a drunkard in the flare. “We’re rich! We're filthy rich!”

  Basalt paused mid-swing, licking his lips. “What did ya want to find, kid?”

  “A gemfarm,” Skye breathed. His jaw trembled. Eyes widened. Gideom hugged him tighter, laughing louder.

  “What do ya call two gemcaches of different types in the same place?” Basalt asked.

  “A gemgarden,” Skye said, stunned.

  “And what does a gemgarden need to become a gemfarm?”

  Skye swallowed hard. “Gemseeds.”

  “Me gut’s tellin’ me we’ll find our gemseeds here,” Basalt said, grinning as he returned to work. “Go look with Gideom. If there are two caches, there might be three. And if there are three…”

  “There might be more,” Skye said, already running.

  He was shaking. Sweating. Grinning. Almost crying. His heart thundered like a race drum, and yet this felt like the moment before one began. They were making history. Discovering the second gemfarm in a century. What would they name it? Where would they stash their treasures?

  The cave trembled.

  “Basalt!” Joshem yelled, backlit by the blinding radethyst. “Careful! Ya’ll bring the whole cave down!”

  Basalt looked up and went still. The pyrpphires embedded in the wall were visible now, big as fists and blazing red. Each was worth a fortune.

  “It ain’t me,” he said, talking slowly. “Be careful. Somethin’s comin’.”

  Skye looked around, holding his breath. The fact that his teammates shared his trepidation agitated him further. A light headache nagged at the back of his brain.

  Another silhouette appeared behind Joshem of wide, furry wings, and eyes red and gleaming. Before anyone could scream a warning, it slashed its talons across Joshem’s back, and flew up screeching, only to be splattered into red goo by a falling boulder a second later.

  “Joshem!” Basalt roared as the cave began to collapse.

  Gideom grabbed Skye’s arm and ran as the Deeps brought all its wrath upon them. They had overstayed their welcome and the option to leave safely was offered no longer. Above the pit, stalactites rained, whooshing through the air, crushing shrieking deepbats mid-flight. Another quake sent fissures through the floor beneath their feet, forcing them to leap. Skye had no clue what to do. No one had taught him how to act during a cave-in. No one ever survived being in the epicenter of one to pass on their wisdom.

  They reached Joshem who lay face down, moaning. A red gash extended diagonally from shoulder to hip, bleeding profusely. His fingers clawed at the dirt, which was swiftly turning crimson. The deepbat’s wing peeked from under a boulder nearby, twitching.

  “Don’t move,” Basalt commanded his brother.

  Gideom uncorked a bottle of purple fluid and poured it on Joshem’s wound who arched, screaming in agony.

  Around them, the remaining deepbats spiraled in panic, a cyclone of wings and shrieks. A massive boulder crashed at the exit, sealing them in.

  Basalt fought to deflect the falling debris, his attempts at creating shelter overhead collapsing with the tunnel. But he was tiring fast. He couldn’t hold the rockfall back forever.

  Darkness crept in as debris blocked the light from both caches.

  Skye couldn’t stop staring at Joshem’s wound. The gash was deep, flesh and muscle torn open, revealing sliced bone underneath. Skye thought of his short ordeal in the quicksand, and how terrible it had been. He couldn’t imagine the anguish Joshem was living.

  A thunderous crash came from behind, sending another shockwave through the cave. The stonemason punched the air again, redirecting a toppling stalagmite into the pit where it shattered. The rocks were falling harder now, faster, and heavier. Raining everywhere.

  Everyone had warned Skye about the Deeps. His intuition had screamed at him that something like this was bound to happen. And he hadn’t listened. Because, deep down, he never thought it’d ever happen to him.

  The whole cave trembled. Joshem screamed in pain as Gideom grunted, trying to keep him in place. Basalt bellowed, dropping to his knees, arms shaking from the strain.

  Skye’s anticipation sharpened, growing louder. He held onto the ribbon tied to his wrist, and his life flashed before his eyes. He laughed with Rierana and Lyonel as they ran through the park, resisted sleep while Dr. Stenser explained the effects of some herb, and fought heatedly against stupid Nakais and his goons.

  Silently, he apologized to everyone he loved for selfishly dying here, and said goodbye to his dream of seeing the sky, watching as the Deeps pulled its stony curtains on his last adventure.

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