Page 81 of The Lost Prince
* * *
I was worried my brush with death last week would carry over as we explored new tunnels, but luckily, this wasn’t the case. As we descended into the mine, the passageway opened until it was wide enough for four people to traverse together and twice our height, and sloped downward at a manageable angle. Claustrophobia wouldn’t win today, but we had to pay attention, so we didn’t trip over the slats of the old cart tracks.
Eventually, the tunnel ended into a cavernous space that only gave away its vastness by the amount of cold air blowing towards us.
“This was definitely one of the main mines, if not the main mine,” I said, my voice echoing down the dark corridor. My eyes slid to Shava, the firelight of my torch bathing half her face in a golden glow. Her eyes strained to see anything in the pitch blackness, and I wondered if she realized the significance of her presence here.
Few people knew the true history of the mines, but I did—buried deep in the archives in disintegrating, discarded scrolls stuffed far back into deep recesses and cracks by scribes like me, trying to preserve what they could of history.
I’d found them. I’d taught myself the language. I understood.
The mud people were my people, and there was a reason they lived in squalor in our kingdom.
“Come, let’s explore where our ancestors once toiled.”
Shava rolled her eyes, but took my hand. “This better not be a better dead end.”
I grinned. I had a feeling this would finally be the main tunnel that took us out to the kingdom.
“Only one way to find out.”
Shava sighed. “Can we at least wait until morning? I’m tired.”
Fine. We would wait until morning.
* * *
Morning came, and we strode off to investigate the main mine, only to get lost several times.
“I’m tired. Can we rest?” Shava asked, sitting down on the ground
I was a little sore, but feeling well enough. I didn’t know if I’d done enough rituals yet to be that much stronger, or if years of neglect and starvation made Shava weaker.
Either way, we had been exploring for a long time. Until we broke out of the tunnel, it would be impossible to know. It was always dark in here.
Logically, I knew the kingdom was a distance from our cave in the desert, but riding on the back of a dragon had spoiled me as to exactly how long.
Surely, we’d come up soon, right?
I studied the way ahead while Shava rested. A bright crack of white caught my attention, my adrenaline spiking and flipping my stomach with anticipation.
“Look Shava! There”
I took off, knowing she’d follow.
“Are you serious?” she called after me, her voice echoing off the rock walls.
I ignored her and strode forward, out into the sunlight. My scribe robe was dirty and torn from my time in the desert, so I wasn’t worried about sticking out with my clothing. A smile curled at the corner of my lips as I realized that today would be the first time that my hair color would help me and not hinder me.
Today I was another mud boy among the rest.
“You idiot.” Shava jogged to my side, catching up with me.
“Aren’t you happy to behome?” I joked.
“Hardy har,” she quipped back, nostrils flared with irritation.
I wanted to argue I didn’t need her with me, but it would be foolish to deny help when freely given. The archives hadn’t been helpful in dispensing much knowledge of the people who lived in the mud quarter.
