Page 26 of Vow of the Shadow King

10

VOR

“See here, Big King? Dese be the worst of dem. And another, here.”

My chief engineer, Ghat, scurries along the wall, alorstcrystal attached to a band around his thick skull. It casts an aura in the darkness as he leads me through the deepest levels of the palace, among the foundation stones. He pauses at one stone through which deep cracks have formed and puts his whole hand down into one of the fissures. His arm disappears all the way to the elbow.

Pale beady eyes glitter up at me in the crystal light. He looks more excited than terrified, as though he’s made a fascinating discovery. Meanwhile, a pit of dread opens in my core.

It’s been a long twolusterlingsand one eternaldimnesssince my people dug me out of the queen’s chamber. I emerged into chaos. I’ve been in motion ever since, meeting with members of my household, soothing fears, receiving reports, putting on a kingly air, issuing commands and official statements, making decisions for both major and minor repairs. No time to rest, no time to eat. Scarcely enough time to breathe.

The initial word from the lower city is encouraging. A handful of deaths, the loss of a few ramshackle dwellings on the outskirts, no major damage. One bridge is potentially compromised and has been barricaded, all traffic diverted. Otherwise, the reported destruction appears to be relatively minor and should be cleared up within a few days.

The city itself seems to be in a state of frozen shock. It’s preternaturally calm, as though the citizenry as a whole have drawn a collective breath and still hold it. Waiting to see what I will do. Waiting to take their lead from me.

I’ve had my chancellor put together an official statement and sent runners into the streets proclaiming the message that I am looking into the cause of the disturbance and encouraging everyone to go about their daily business. A statement of calm, order, and reason.

Then Ghat summoned me to the lower palace. Which is why I find myself here, watching as he shows me the various cracks in our foundations. Some are mere hairline fractures. Others, like the one his arm is now sunk into, are more significant.

He turns his broad, stone-skinned face to me, one corner of his wide mouth tilted severely down. “I been watching dis one for some time now,” he says. “Last time I been down here, it were scarcely big enough to fit me fat thumb. Now . . .”

He doesn’t need to finish. I can see for myself. I run my hand over the wall, gliding my fingers along the edge of the crack. I can’t help feeling it wouldn’t take more than a good grip and a single hard tug to make this break run straight up through the palace and bring the whole thing crashing down upon my head.

Ghat watches me. His hard eyes blink slowly, one after the other. “Is bad, Big King,” he says, in his distinctive low-stone dialect. “I seen cracks like dese in some of t’other big buildings inna city. The temple. The old watch tower at lower east bridge. The base of Urzulhar Circle.”

“Indeed?” The Urzulhar Circle is one of the oldest, most sacred sites in all the Under Realm. I chuckle mirthlessly. “I assumed the Circle would be protected by the gods.”

“’Fraid not, Big King.” Ghat shakes his heavy head. “If dese stirrings go on, the Circle be first to fall.” He sets a secondlorstin a holder so that it casts a pool of light over the floor. Taking up a measuring rod, he begins to draw in the thick dust at my feet. In a few quick strokes, he renders a rough but accurate and recognizable map of the city. Ghat may be crude and stone-hided, but he is a genius in his own right.

“Here and here,” he says indicating points on the map. “Another here. Dese be where big breaks will start when time comes. East city gonna fall first. The rest will crumble soon after. When it goes, it all gonna go.”

I study his drawing. My vision is dull, uncomprehending. I don’t want to comprehend. I want to stomp my foot in the center of those sketches, kick them, smear them, obliterate even the memory of them.

“It were always gonna be,” Ghat says at last, stepping back and surveying his work. “Sometimes I fink the plan for the city’s fall were built into the city itself. No stopping it.”

“How long do we have?”

He shrugs. “If dere be no more stirrings, could be another thousand turns of the cycle. More even. But if the stirrings gonna increase at the rate dey’ve been . . . I wouldn’t give us one more cycle.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. My stomach has dropped, my throat closed up. It’s all I can do to stand there, staring at that map. Staring at those grooves he’s driven through the sketched-out lines of the city I love. “How far will the destruction go?” I ask at last, my voice rough. “Do you mean Mythanar alone?”

“Oh no. When we go, we all gonna go. The Big End will start here—right here.” He points to the Urzulhar Circle. “The city fall in a few hours at most. Once it start, it spread fast. Beforedimness, whole Under Realm be broken into . . .” He pauses, his eyes rolling back in his head as he does a quick calculation . . . “I ‘spect ‘bout four hundred small-bite islands. Maybe seven big‘uns.”

“Will any of the cities be spared?”

“Unlikely. Maybe Vespre? It be closer to the surface, away from any big cracks. But the others . . . no. Dey done for.”

“And what are our options?”

Ghat shrugs, the rough stone of his shoulders mounding. “Prayer?”

I harden my jaw. “Evacuation.”

At this, however, the chief snorts. “And where you fink we gonna go, Big King? Aurelis? Noxaur? Troldefolk don’t belong anywhere but with other troldefolk.”

“Perhaps the human world,” I say slowly, hardly liking to admit the thought out loud. I did not enjoy my brief time spent in that world, but it boasts many high mountain ranges beneath which no humans have dared to delve. Perhaps we could find a place of sanctuary in the caverns and deep places.

Ghat, however, laughs outright. “Good luck making troldefolk follow you. Far fromquinsatraand all dat make good life. No, no.” He wipes a hand down his broad flat face and shrugs again. “When I go, I gonna be buried under rock and rubble as is my home. It not so bad an end. For troll. Some say it the only good end.”

---