The Survivors (21 page)

His foot crunched on sand as he stepped out of the tunnel into an immense cavern. Everywhere he looked, different kinds of mushrooms grew: big ones, small ones, familiar ones, strange ones he’d never dreamed of. They grew clustered around columns of rock, along shelves in the rock, and even on the ceiling. Bradok could see peppertops, honey mushrooms, blackroot, and sagetube. There were tall, fat, red mushrooms and strange orange fungi that seemed to grow upside down from the ceiling. Mixed into the cornucopia were clusters of pale, glowing mushrooms Bradok recognized as the variety his clan called Reorx’s torch. The Reorx’s torch mushrooms were everywhere, filling the space with light.

Off to the left, Bradok could hear the sound of water lapping against an invisible shore. The air bore the pungent smell of water as well, and Bradok breathed in the water gratefully.

“This is more like it,” he said to no one in particular. The bright, colorful cavern reminded him momentarily of Ironroot, and he felt a pang of loss for the home he would never see again.

The smell of water drew him, and he turned toward the sound of the lapping waves. The floor of the cavern sloped down, and Bradok could see a vast, dark lake off to his left. Even as bright as the cavern was, no light shone on the far side of the lake, giving one the impression that it simply fell away into nothingness. The cavern’s floor sloped back down to a round opening with a short stretch of beach where gentle waves rolled in and out with a quiet
whoosh
. Already some of the children had their shoes off and were wading and splashing in the icy water.

“What do you think?” Much said, striding up beside Bradok with his watch in hand. “There’s still half a day left to march.”

“I don’t care what
he
thinks,” Chisul said, walking by toward the water. “This place is a dream. We should stay here for a while.”

“I agree with Chisul,” Bradok said easily. “We can gather food, wash out our clothes—”

“Bathe,” Rose said, pausing beside him and sniffing pointedly.

“That too,” he said, rolling his eyes.

They bathed in shifts with the women and children washing first, while the men stayed on the opposite side of the sloping floor gathering food. Corin and Xurces showed Bradok, Kellik, and Tal how to gather wall root, a fibrous fungus that grew out of the walls like scraggly hair. It didn’t taste particularly good, but its fibrous nature made it laborious to chew, so it was long-lasting nourishment. According to Xurces, a dwarf could survive on it without any other food, if need be. Everyone hoped that would not be necessary.

There were many mushrooms that no one recognized, and they decided to leave those be since the only way to tell if they were edible or poisonous was to eat them. Still, there were plenty of mushrooms they knew to be safe. Bradok quickly filled the cloak he’d tied off as a sack and went looking for
others to help. Kellik’s eldest son, Rijul, seemed to have lost momentum, so Bradok went over to help him.

When he reached the lad, he discovered what had diverted Rijul from the important task of gathering food. Where he stood behind a pillar of rock, the floor dipped down, giving a perfect view of the beach. The lad’s eyes were the size of saucers. As Bradok came up behind him, he, too, could see the beach and the bathing female dwarves. His eyes unconsciously sought out a form, taller than the others, topped with wet red hair. For a moment, he, too, was mesmerized like young Rijul; then he realized what he saw—who he saw—and he turned away, blushing furiously.

“That’s enough, lad,” he said, taking the dazed Rijul by the collar and pulling him away. “Plenty of time for that when you’re older.”

Once the men had gathered enough food, Bradok opened his pack and began laying out his clothes to wash and sort. Beside him, Corin sat and watched. The only clothes he owned were the ones he wore under the spare cloak Bradok had given him.

“You must have been an important dwarf above ground,” Corin said, observing the quality of Bradok’s gear. “Chisul keeps calling you, ‘councilman.’ Is that some kind of leader?”

Bradok nodded. “I was a councilman of the city of Ironroot,” he said, adding, “a representative who voted for laws and public policies.”

Corin seemed impressed but didn’t say more.

As Bradok pulled out one of his two spare shirts, a wrapped bundle dropped from his pack and hit the sandy floor with a thud. The impact freed a delicate strand of gold that clutched a smoky gray pearl.

Corin whistled and picked up the pearl, pulling a necklace free from the bundle. It boasted gold chain-work with pearls, white diamonds, and a single teardrop-shaped ruby that, when worn, would dangle just below the throat. Bradok wanted to
snatch the necklace away, but it was too late to keep it a secret from Corin.

“I’ll say you were a big man indeed,” he said, cradling the necklace and inspecting it with an expert’s eye. “Did you convert your wealth to jewels so you could bring it all with you?”

“I was a jeweler by trade,” Bradok said reluctantly. “That necklace is one of my own designs.”

“It’s exquisite,” Corin said, clearly impressed. “What a pair we could have made,” he said in a wistful voice. “In my time I could have sold this for four times its value,” he said. Then with a little shrug, he handed it back to Bradok. “Not much use to any of us now, I’m afraid,” he said.

“No,” Bradok said with a wistful smile. Taking the necklace, Bradok carefully tucked it into the bundle again and stowed it in his pack. After a second’s thought, he reached back in and moved the smaller bundle to the bottom of the pack, tucking it under a pile.

“You don’t need to worry about those valuables,” Corin said, a chuckle in his voice. “Down here they aren’t worth much. You can’t trade them to anyone, and you sure can’t eat them.”

Bradok smiled at the joke. It was too true. “Force of habit,” he said apologetically.

The sound of tearing cloth attracted both dwarves’ attention. Much had torn strips off his cloak and one of his shirts, and he was tying the strips together.

“What are you doing?” Corin asked, looking at the strange concoction taking shape in Much’s hands.

“I’m making a doll if it’s any of your business,” Much said gruffly. He held up the mass of knotted cloth and it did, indeed, resemble a child’s doll. Corin and Bradok nodded approvingly.

“It’s for Teal,” he said more easily with a smile that couldn’t have been prouder if little Teal had been his own grandchild.

Bradok laughed and reached for his pack. He pulled out his pen and inkwell and motioned for Much to hand him the doll. With a few quick strokes of the pen, he drew eyes, a mouth, and freckles on the doll’s blank face then handed it back.

“Perfect,” Much said, appraising Bradok’s handiwork.

“Yes, perfect,” agreed Corin.

About an hour later, the women came tromping over the rise from the water. Their faces and arms were red from the scrubbing they’d given themselves, and they all seemed in great spirits.

“All right, you smelly lot,” Rose announced in a loud voice. “Your turn. And don’t even think of asking any of us to wash out your socks.”

Bradok smiled and picked up his cloak. He’d tied his clothes into a bundle along with his grooming kit, which contained a cake of lye soap so strong the very smell of it made his eyes water.

At the beach, he disrobed and spent the next ten minutes in the freezing water, scouring his skin and hair thoroughly. He’d never been as fastidious as some dwarves, but he’d also never felt so dusty and dirt-ridden in his entire life. With the others performing similar ablutions around him, the water soon developed a filmy layer of dirt with soap bubbles floating on it.

When he finished, he combed out his hair and beard then started in on his clothes. As he splashed the water to clean out the dirt, he spotted Chisul, still scrubbing his arms, waist deep in the water. The dwarf had broad shoulders and a muscular back from all the work he’d done in his father’s shop. The only blemish on him seemed to be a small gray birthmark on his upper back.

Rose’s warning about Chisul returned briefly to Bradok’s thoughts, but he was in too good a mood and went back to his cleaning. An hour later he flung his damp clothes over a clothesline that Tal had strung between two stalagmites and
sat down heavily in the sand. Chisul and the other dwarves had changed back into their damp clothes, knowing their body heat would dry them fast enough. The human, Perin, however, kept his cloak dry and shivered under it in the perpetual cool of underground.

Bradok watched the children playing in the wet sand of the beach. Little Teal, clutching her new rag doll, ran down to the water, dipped her toes in, then retreated, squealing as the next wave came in. Omer ran with her, dancing and laughing.

Grinning as he watched, Bradok pulled the compass from his pocket and checked it almost absently. The image of the Seer pointed unwaveringly on. Normally when they reached a good spot to stop, she would lower her spear and give them a rest.

He knew without even checking that no one would want to leave the beautiful mushroom garden and sleep in the dreary tunnels again.

Still, he had to tell everybody what the compass indicated. Maybe they should move on. The last time they’d ignored the magical compass, they’d been attacked by the strange mushroom men.

He put on his clothes and turned to go and find Rose and Tal, only to spot them bearing down him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said quickly. “I think there’s a problem—”

“I know,” Bradok said, cutting her off. “Look at this.” He held out the compass.

“I warned you about that happening,” Tal said.

“I’m talking about a different problem,” Rose said.

Rose opened her hand. She held one of the glowstones from their lanterns. It glowed dimly in the bright light, illuminating the cavern. Bradok looked at Rose, not understanding.

“Its light is fading,” she said. “I thought I noticed it yesterday, and I’ve been watching the lights more closely today. The stones are dimmer here now than they were when we started.”

“I thought these things were good for years and years,” Bradok said, searching his memory in vain to recall the last time he’d had to replace the glowstones in his house.

“They are supposed to be,” Rose said, “and Chisul told me these are new.”

“What is happening, then?” Bradok asked, holding up the stone.

“They must be blessed by a priest,” Tal said. “Remember how that fellow from the city council told us that all the priests had disappeared?”

“Jon Bladehook,” Bradok said, wincing at his name.

“What if Reorx took all the priests away for some reason?” Tal said. “What if priestly magic is beginning to vanish?”

The memory stabbed at Bradok: the grizzled dwarf with the red painted sign.
Repent lest the Gods forsake us
.

Was it true, then? Had the gods forsaken them? The prospect sent chills up Bradok’s spine.

“Wait a minute,” he said, pulling out the compass. “What about this? If divine magic is fading, why does this still work?”

“But how long it will keep working?” Tal asked, exchanging a worried look with Rose.

“I think we need to get going as soon as possible,” Rose said.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Chisul said when Rose related the crisis to the rest of the dwarves—the survivors and the Daergar. “The glowstones are dimming, so you want us to panic?”

“It might be safer to sleep in the tunnels,” suggested Bradok.

“Nothing can sneak up on us here,” Chisul countered. “We should rest in this place as long as we can. I propose we put three guards on the beach tonight, just in case.”

He turned to the rest of the group. “What say you, my friends?” Chisul asked. “Do we follow the councilman and sleep in the tunnels tonight, or do we fortify ourselves here?”

“Here!” the crowd shouted as one.

“You see, Councilman. The people have spoken,” Chisul said with a smug smile.

The people cheered, and the beaming Chisul nodded at them as if he’d just been proclaimed their emperor.

“That young man is full of himself,” Corin said from behind Bradok.

“Yeah,” Rose said, agreeing with the Daergar.

“Full of hot air is more like it,” Bradok said lightly but without a trace of humor. “I’m worried about staying here in the open.”

“You think it’s dangerous?” Corin asked.

“I’m sure of it,” Bradok said.

“Then some of us should go into the tunnels,” Rose insisted.

“That isn’t a good idea,” Corin said. “We’d be abandoning our friends. And if something bad did happen, they’d be right to blame us for deserting them when they needed us the most.”

“Corin’s right. We shouldn’t go,” Bradok said finally.

“What do we do, then?” asked Rose.

Bradok took out his hunting knife and passed it to Corin. “We stay armed and alert for trouble,” he said. “It’s all we can do.” He turned to Corin. “Warn Much, Kellik, Tal, Dallon, and some of the others. Tell them to have their knives ready. Make sure at least one of them we can trust is on guard duty all the time.”

Corin nodded and left.

Bradok turned to Rose. “Keep your people close tonight and be ready for anything.”

“All right,” Rose said after a long hesitation. “Tonight I’ll do as you ask, but tomorrow you’re going to do me a favor. There’s something I want to discuss with you.” With that she turned brusquely and walked away.

Bradok wondered only fleetingly what she wanted to talk about. Right then “tomorrow” seemed like a long time away.

He sighed and walked over to where he had spread out his cloak for a bed. There were still several hours before it was time to go to sleep, but he felt so weary, he just had to lie down.