L glyph [https://i.imgur.com/2vwU4yB.png]

The polished timber floor of the gymnasium was hard, and after sitting on it for an hour, Lorie’s tail bone ached. She eased her position slightly. Fidgeting was not permitted. Talking was not permitted. She was supposed to sit still with her eyes closed and meditate.

She stilled herself and cleared her mind. Cold air tickled the back of her neck. A draft from the door, she thought. The boy to her right had a blocked nose. He breathed loudly and he smelled weird.

Focus, Lorie. She concentrated on her own breathing: in through the nose, out through the mouth, the swell of her chest, the air moving through her body. Empty the mind, still the mind, think of nothing… like the blank white of fresh snow and the wind sighing over the plain.

That was where her father was now — out there, on the road to Sark. Or perhaps he had reached Sark, and was already walking those familiar streets, already talking to all their old friends and neighbours. What would they say when they saw him? Faces and voices crowded from memory, friends she’d grown up with and would never see again.

She missed them sometimes, and felt so alone, as if she were the only real person in a world of ghosts, all drifting about on their own business. Though that was wrong, she knew, because Nana cared, and Sam — well, Sam probably never thought about her, but he would care if he remembered — and Father at least tried to understand.

At the back of her mind, something stirred, a presence so strong, she almost turned to see who had spoken behind her. But there was no voice and no one there, only the hush of a hundred boys breathing.

She grimaced, realising she’d lost all focus, and instead of meditating, her mind had wandered into daydreams. Why was meditation so hard? She’d never struggled to learn anything before. With over a week of diligent practice, she didn’t feel she’d made any progress, when even the little boys of her class seemed to manage. Why couldn’t she?

A bell chimed, announcing the end of the session. She opened her eyes. Around her, the boys of her class blinked and stretched.

‘On your feet, boys,’ Adept Pertens announced. ‘You’re dismissed.’

Lorie stood and stretched the stiffness from her legs. The boys chattered as they crowded towards the door, happy to have reached the end of another long day. She sighed and joined them.

‘Lorie, hold up.’ Phin pushed through the throng of boys, grinning. ‘I have good news for you. You’re being moved to Master Zakary’s class.’

‘Oh.’ She stopped. ‘Thanks.’

He frowned. ‘I thought you’d be more pleased. I mean, the Second Grammar’s no great excitement, but at least you get away from Sprat and his friends, and Master Gavin. Are you all right?’

‘I…’ Tears pricked her eyes. She lowered her head, blinking furiously. Crying wouldn’t help; she’d only make a fool of herself. ‘Sorry.’

He grabbed her hand. ‘Come with me.’

They followed the flood of boys out of the gymnasium, into the corridor. Phin tugged her round a corner and out of a door into a green space, a small courtyard garden between the gymnasium and library. The flowers had faded with the onset of Athanor’s mild grey winter and only clipped green bushes remained.

Phin sat on a bench with her. He squeezed her hand. ‘Now, tell me what’s the matter.’

‘I’m sorry—‘

‘And please stop apologising.’

She took a breath. His hand holding hers was distracting and a little sweaty, but she thought it would be rude to pull away. ‘I just can’t get the hang of meditation. Every time I try, my mind wanders off. I can’t stop thinking. Maybe the Masters were right. I shouldn’t be here.’

He laughed. ‘Lorie, everyone finds it difficult when they start. I felt the same all through the first year. Man, I was so miserable I wished I could die and get it over with. But then it clicked, and everything got easier. It’s just practice. Honestly, you’ll be fine.’

Her misery receded. He was right, she realised, and she’d been a fool to get so worked up about nothing. After all, it was unreasonable to expect to excel at her first attempts. So what if it was difficult? She just had to work harder until she got the hang of it. She could do that.

She squeezed his hand and smiled, and her heart beat a little faster. ‘Thank you, Phin. I’m glad to have you as a friend.’

Si glyph [https://i.imgur.com/mHhTdaF.png]

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Sark was lifeless. Simon searched until nightfall, going from house to house, shouting himself hoarse — but there was no one and nothing. Food had been left on tables, stoves had burned out unattended. No trembling children hid in root-cellars, no one lay unconscious on a floor, no one called out for help. No people, no dogs, not even a pig remained alive.

There were many bodies. He tried not to see them. He didn’t want to know who had died.

Finally, night came. They camped in an empty house near the gates. Jonas lit the stove, and they sat in a warm kitchen which a family had once called home. Simon couldn’t remember who had lived there.

‘You should eat something,’ Vikki said.

‘I’m not hungry.’

The others ate, talking in subdued voices. ‘So what do we do now?’ Jonas said. ‘Go back to Athanor?’

‘Where is the tomb?’ Holomy asked. ‘Has it been destroyed?’

Simon stirred. ‘I don’t know. The tomb was accessed through the mine, the new workings to the east. It may not be possible to reach it.’

‘Having come so far, I feel we should at least attempt to visit the tomb. After all, that is what we came to do.’

Simon stared at the scriver. ‘Are you blind or mad? The town is destroyed. We don’t know how or why. Hundreds of people are dead, people I knew, and you want to go down into the mine and write down the glyphs on the walls of a tomb? Is that really the most important thing to you?’

Holomy blinked slowly, his pale eyes fish-like. ‘I appreciate your distress, Adept. You have my sympathy. But to me, the tomb is in fact the most important thing. It may be a very significant find. It would be unfortunate if we lost the opportunity to document it.’

‘It’s what Lord Oryche sent us here for,’ Riga said. ‘We must try to reach the tomb.’

‘We don’t know if we can,’ Jonas said. ‘I mean, part of the mine has collapsed, either because it was unstable, or maybe a gas explosion—’

‘This is my mine,’ Simon said. ‘Every inch of it, every rock. Do you think I haven’t been racking my brains all day, trying to understand what caused this. It’s impossible.’

‘What do you mean?’ Vikki said.

Simon rested his aching head on his hands. The metal fingers dug into his brow, cool and hard. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what happened here. I wish I did, but I don’t. The only thing I’m sure of is the mine is dangerous. Too dangerous for us to risk trying for the tomb.’

‘It’s the information from the tomb Lord Oryche wants, and he’s paying us.’ Riga said. ‘Let’s vote.’

Holomy raised his hand.

After a moment, so did Jonas. ‘I think we should try.’

They all looked at Vikki. She shook her head. ‘I abstain. My job is to drive. I’m not going down any mine.’

‘Me neither,’ Simon said. ‘And you can’t find the tomb without me.’

‘Coward.’ Riga sneered. ‘There could be people alive down there, trapped. But you’d rather run back to the city, wouldn’t you?’

I want to live and see my family again. Simon grit his teeth. Riga was right: he was scared to go down into the mine. No shame in that; he had good reason. The others didn’t know, as he did, how easily men died underground.

But she was also right that there might be survivors trapped underground. Unlikely as it seemed, it was possible, and while the possibility remained, Simon had a duty — a last duty to the miners of Sark, his friends and neighbours of years.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll try.’

Next morning, Simon led them through the shattered town to the mine head. The main shaft appeared undamaged, and though the winding tower leaned at an angle, a lift cage stood ready.

‘How do we get down?’ Jonas said.

‘Normally, the winding gear is powered by that big treadmill.’ Simon pointed to the twenty-foot long cylinder of timber, six feet in diameter. Ten men at a time walked the endless uphill climb as punishment for drunkenness, fights, and petty theft. Though all the miners hated it, Afsen had never run short of men to punish.

‘Not much help to us.’

Simon thought. There weren’t enough of them to power the treadmill. Without the lift, they’d have to climb down the shaft — and he doubted Holomy was fit enough for that. They needed another source of power. ‘We need the snowcrawler. And Vikki.’

It took some hours to manoeuvre the snowcrawler through Sark, skirting the places where the ground had collapsed, and into the shed that housed the treadmill.

Vikki was unimpressed. ‘This thing belongs in the Stone Age. People really had to walk round in this all day, just to run the hoist?’

‘It worked,’ Simon said. ‘But can you make it work for us, using the engine?’

‘Of course.’ She shrugged. ’No guarantee as to safety or efficiency, mind. I mean, the engine was never designed for this.’

She set to work. Within the hour, she had the snowcrawler’s engine disconnected from its own drive train and connected to the winding gear. Once the engine had built up sufficient pressure, Vikki — sitting at the snowcrawler’s controls — gradually fed power to the hoist.

‘It’s going,’ Simon shouted over the engine noise. Slowly but surely, the wheel turned. The hoist chains clanked and clicked. ‘Woah!’ He banged on the port-hole to get her attention. ‘Enough, stop.’

Leaving the snowcrawler chuffing quietly, they gathered at the lift cage with their gear. Simon had collected miner’s lamps to supplement their one small cold-lamp.

Riga rattled the door of the cage. ‘Is this thing safe?’

‘You wanted to go down,’ Simon said. ‘This is how we do it.’

‘Rather you than me,’ Vikki said.

‘We need you to stay here and work the engine,’ Simon said. ‘If you lower the lift for about ten minutes, that should get us to the bottom. The other lift cage will come up at the same time. When it appears, cut the power.’

‘How will I know when you want to come up?’

‘No problem,’ Jonas said. ‘I can send a fire-bird. Just don’t wander off too far.’

‘No fear of that.’ Vikki shuddered. ‘This place gives me the heebies.’

Simon opened the door of the lift cage. The others filed in. He closed the door after himself and latched it. ‘Keep your hands and feet inside the cage when it’s moving, if you want to keep them.’

Vikki waved to them through the open hatchway of the snowcrawler. The winding hoist groaned, and the cage jerked, dropping beneath their feet.

‘Shit.’ Jonas groaned. ‘Is it too late to mention my fear of falling?’

‘It’s quite safe,’ Simon said. ‘There’s two hoist chains, and a back-up chain to stop the cage falling if they both break.’

The cage dropped fast and faster, and a warm wind gusted upward to meet them. In the moments the daylight lasted, Simon watched the rock wall of the shaft race past. Then absolute darkness engulfed them and there was only the dizzy sensation of weightlessness, the rushing air, and the hard rattle of the hoist.

Simon took the cold-lamp from his pack and shook the globe to activate it. The faint glow quickly strengthened. ‘The cage will slow before the bottom. You need to be ready to jump out.’

‘Jump?’ Holomy’s face was deathly in the cold-lamp’s pale light.

‘Step, if you prefer. It’s not difficult.’