Part 2

(Missed Part 1? Read It Here)

The Crownmost level of Duotro where Maleah finds the hidden exit among the twisting tunnels

Maleah had briefly considered the role as a fit for herself. It would make a great excuse to travel through the seldom-visited tunnels. She would set her own hours and her own workload. It seemed like the perfect fit. But the hunters were hardly a well-respected option for the daughter of El Edil. Genii hunters lived near the grand entrance to the city. The paths and taverns that most frequently housed the merchants in their visits. They were hardly a respected class of citizen. Maleah couldn’t imagine the disappointment that would fill her parents face if she made that her career choice. She slipped between two preoccupied workers. She wasn’t certain that they’d be any happier when she left. But at least she wouldn’t have to see that disappointment.

The paths were fairly well filled with workers eager to get home after the chime of the water clocks. Families waited. Maleah fought a sense of disdain as she slipped between traders, laborers, and artisans. They would live their entire lives here under the mountain by the chime of the temple bells and the water clocks. They would be remembered only in the annual celebration of ancestors where their likeness would be drawn out of the darkness and placed on the mantelpiece of the home. Stories of each family member would be told. Eventually, someone would forget the story of some ancestor four or five generations back. Maleah was lucky. Her family descended from Zane. Everyone remembered her ancestors and her family line. But most of the individuals who had filled the time since Zane had already been forgotten. But it gave them a chance to be remembered. And it gave her fire in her veins. The fire of the dragons Zane had chased away.

Mother’s eyes were dark with disapproval as Maleah burst in. She was late. Not by much, but late was late. Especially on this most special of days. Arianna and Matias sat on the far side of the room. Matias’ eyes were kind. Arianna’s were scornful. Big surprise there. Arianna had celebrated her 16th four annum ago. She had chosen to apprentice to Ra Hanah almost ten years ago. She was the youngest apprentice the legendary weaver had ever accepted and Arianna was already expected to be the next master weaver of Duotro. She had little understanding for her younger sister’s lack of desire to apprentice into the arts or even ‘do something meaningful with her life’ as she’d berated Maleah the previous evening.

The young woman dropped her eyes from her sister quickly and sank to a knee before where her father and mother sat on either side of the mantle. Briefly she regretted not entering through her window and trying to tame the mass of dark hair before coming to the ceremony. The anxious trip through down had certainly left it snarled and windswept. It hadn’t seemed out of place in the streets. Here in the perfectly coiffed room, it did.

Mother rose and crossed to rest a hand on Maleah’s head. The pressure felt warm and kind and the young woman lifted guilty eyes, “I’m sorry I’m late.” She mouthed up at the matriarch of the Eventide family and the woman pursed her lips slightly, then set aside the unpleasant emotions with a short nod to focus on the ceremony itself. It was time for Maleah to become a woman.

The room was dark around her, save for the flickering glow of the Firesheart in her coronet. The evening had gone exactly as expected. Arianna had been the first to jab that Maleah wasn’t going to find dragons in the tunnels and that she should give up and get a job. Maleah had ignored it. But it had led to the familiar question of where she planned to go apprentice when the sun rose.

That much was clear, she had till morning to make a decision of what she wanted to spend the rest of her life doing or the decision would be made for her. She wasn’t sure if they would simply apprentice her to the first artisan who would accept her, or if father would bring her to the city courts to apprentice to him instead. He might be the only person who would accept her. She would never run the city like he would, that would be Matias’ job. But she might serve in an advisory capacity eventually. She would have to start with filing and running odd jobs. It was hardly appetizing.

Maleah took the coronet down and held it in her hands. The Firesheart was massive. The light at its heart flickered across the elegant, sweeping lines of silver that rose around the gem and curled to meet around the back of the head. There were no dragons built into the coronet. She could only imagine that her parents had instructed the smith to leave those out, in hopes of dissuading her from becoming further enamored with the great beasts. The room was warm. The city was always pleasantly warm. The stone was heated by its connection to the molten rivers of lava that flowed under the Firestorm mountains. Even when winter began to rage outside, the wind that built speed across the endlessly flat Onam Wilderlands would crash against the mountains and only the outermost corridors and homes would experience any hint of the chill.

It was a warm embrace of the mountain protecting them, giving them a home. Tonight, it felt stuffy and Maleah felt an itch rise in the backs of her eyes. She wondered if the stone was as warm on the outside of the mountain. Somehow, she doubted it. Maleah gently returned the coronet to her forehead, grateful for the warm red glow that it cast before her as she rose to her feet, determined to banish the itch behind her eyes. Rather than reliving the brutal disappointment on her parents faces from dinner, Maleah crossed to the armoire and first withdrew a working dress and changed expediently. Next, she extracted the fur-lined neromph cloak she’d given precious vertex to purchase from the merchants. Neromph leather was prized beyond nearly any other material on the crust. The massive carrion scavengers that haunted the waters of the LornRay plains were supposedly fat and dumpy in a way that belied their speed and savagery in defending their territory. They were as well known for the leather their skin made, waterproof and all-but indestructible, as they were for the water sprites that hung out about their ears to lure unsuspecting animals and humans to their deaths. Hunting them was dangerous. Raising them was impossible. The leather was in short supply and well sought-after. Especially here in the north when paired with a warm fur lining. While Maleah was all but certain that it would be equally warm near the crown of the mountains, she had no intention of freezing to death on the journey there.

Underneath the bed, there was the travel sack she’d sewn herself from an old bedcover. She’d barely gotten away with purchasing the cloak as some fascination with the soft fur of the musks on the interior. The daughter of El Edil purchasing a travel sack would have raised too many eyebrows. Afterall, her family was committed to the city. They did not leave. They did not travel. Maleah withdrew the sack, checking instinctively for the items she’s carefully squirreled away over the past six months. Small packets of spice to keep her diet from becoming too bland. A small pan for cooking. A chunk of reverb crystal that would glow and light her way when whetted. A sparking gem for fires on the journey. A few bags of dried fruits and meats and a small bag of flour. She wasn’t entirely certain what to use the flour for, but it always seemed popular for all kinds of meals so she was certain it would come in handy. Second to last, the packet of tallow that might serve as seasoning or fat as needed. Lastly, the skin for water. It was empty but it wouldn’t be for long. She would try the tunnel again. If she could not find a path by the time the moon passed the windows to begin her descent, Maleah would attempt to climb the outside of the mountain one more time.

Her steps slowed in the living room. Zane’s dagger was in the case over the mantle once again. The damascus blade glinted in the light from her coronet. For a moment, she considered taking both. The Firesheart could provide light in the tunnels, or up the mountain. But she didn't need a target on her head to draw the eyes of the Watchers. Instead, she gently swapped one finely crafted metal for another. Her parents could at least sell the coronet. Perhaps it would erase their disappointment in their youngest daughter. Maleah hesitated only once more at the entryway to fill her water skin and return it to her pack. Then she slipped from the house, carefully lowering the latch to avoid any clicks awaking the family.

The tunnels had always felt so freeing late at night. When most of Duotro found their ways home to relish the time they had with family, Maleah had frequently found her way to the tunnels to escape the oppressive feel of home. The empty halls stretched across the vast spaces of the mountain. Without bodies to fill them, they felt grand and beautiful. Alone in the tunnels, Maleah could almost feel a tug under her breastbone of affinity towards the builders who had carved a home from the unforgiving rock of the soaring pinnacles that composed the Firestorm range.

It took too long to retraverse the path back to the upper tunnels. Too many stops in the shadows at every hint of another human. By the time she got here, Maleah was all but cursing her fellow city-dwellers. It wasn't fair. Anyone out at this hour had reason to be. Night workers or emergencies. At least in this part of the city. Down near the grand entrance, the merchants would be stumbling from their taverns, ripe with Duotro's famous mead as they hollered and sang their way back to their resting quarters near the Guild market. Not here.

A glance out the windows near the front of the mountain told Maleah that, once again, she wouldn't have as long as she'd wanted to solve the puzzle of the crevice. She bit back impatience then, realizing she'd reached the most empty parts of the city, allowed herself to break into the sprint she’d been wanting too since the latch had clicked behind her.

Speed achieved, it didn't take long to reach the crevice. In the moonlight, Maleah was nearly upended to see that it ran all the way up the wall to bump against a whirl in the stone at the top. That made the most sense. The early Duotrans had not intended to make it easy to summit the mountains. They would not have put the access lever where it might be bumped in passing. Maleah glanced around, looking for anything in the empty passage that might give her the height needed to examine the whorl more closely. There was nothing nearby and she considered returning down the passage to retrieve one of the planters she’d seen. A thought flashed across her mind and Maleah hitched the bag tighter where it ran across her shoulder blades and fastened around her waist as she backed up. Her eyes measured the space in strides. Four forward. Left foot to push off the wall. Speed would propel her up, across the tunnel. Right foot to catch in the crevice and push her higher. Right hand on the knob.

The whorl gave under her palm. Just a little. It was all that was needed. The hidden mechanics silently pressed the two pieces of stone far enough apart and Maleah slipped between the two before the levers could close again. The darkness that pressed around her as the crack closed behind her was intense. Maleah froze, hands fumbling in the bag at her bag for the reverb stone. It took a moment to find it and she licked her thumb to whet the stone. The stone responded as it always did, glowing gently as the moisture triggered whatever chemical reaction the stone harbored at its heart. It was enough for her to find her water pouch and drizzle some water on the stone. Water would keep it glowing far longer than her spit. The stone glowed brighter, illuminating a pathway that was not nearly as well kept-up as the one she’d just left. But it led up and Maleah glanced over her shoulder, fighting a thrill of exhilaration and the urge to run once again. The image of returning, mounted on a dragon illuminated brightly before her, and the young woman tightened her bag around her back again and pressed on.