ONYX

“Listen.” Clang “The only way we are gonna get out of here is if we do it ourselves.” Clang. “We need to fight back.” Clang. “Be ready.”

Onyx picked up a chunk of red obsidian and tossed it in a bucket, then moved down the line to the next slave. For the past week, they had been whispering in the ears of the others they were grouped with. More than a few of them were giddy with anticipation. It was the ones who avoided her she worried about. She had seen revolts before and all it took was one slave to tip off a guard to break them up before they even started.

Remembering the names of her fellow slaves was a difficult task, but she did her best. Before, it didn’t matter, but now she wanted them to know they were heard, seen. She wanted to be that person again, to bring hope where none was present.

“Tai, have you–”

The older woman turned away from Onyx, driving her pick ax into the dense rock. The muscles in her back spasmed, and she dropped it. Onyx moved forward to help, but Tai hissed, baring her teeth and moving as far from Onyx as she could in the enclosed space.

Onyx wiped sweat from her forehead and sighed, leaning on her ax. She glanced at Valia on the other side of the tunnel and the young woman shrugged her shoulders. They had been trying to recruit Tai from day one, but she had lived her whole life in these mines and had seen too many escape attempts go wrong to get on board.

A whistle sounded through the tunnels. Shift over, the two friends walked together to the main shaft, axes slung over their shoulders. The sweat on their faces cooled as they neared the surface, chasing away the heat that dogged them all day. Breathing came easier as they left the foul brimstone air behind.

“Do you think we’re ready?” Onyx asked, her voice low.

Valia sighed, glancing around at their fellow slaves as they trundled onward. “I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting until we are ready. Either we do it or we don’t, and what happens, happens.”

“You’re wise for one so young.”

Valia smiled wanly. “Wisdom comes with experience, and I’ve had enough experiences for a lifetime. I say we do it now, the longer we wait, the more likely someone will spill.”

“I agree. Can you get your part done by the morning?”

Valia flipped her hair and struck a pose. “Trust me, these guards will get what they can take, baby bump or no.”

Onyx laid a hand on her shoulder. “Just be careful.”

***

That night as Onyx lay huddled under her blanket, she heard the bed beside her creak and the door open. A weight settled on her chest. If Valia couldn’t get the key to the gate tonight, then their plan would be in shambles. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep while her friend risked her life, and the life of her unborn child, to a slaver.

In the wee hours of the morning, the door cracked open and her friend slipped back inside the dark room. She stopped by Onyx’s bed and a cool piece of metal chilled her palm. The key.

“Good work, Vals,” Onyx whispered.

“Anything for freedom.” Valia flipped back her covers and climbed underneath. Only then was Onyx able to fall into a fitful sleep.

They woke at daybreak to the piercing whistle. Onyx grit her teeth and tossed back the thin blanket. She was looking forward to never hearing it again. The key still nestled in her hand, and as she dressed, she tucked it into the pocket in her boot, along with the piece of obsidian.

“Ready?” Valia asked, standing straight.

Onyx turned to her to agree, but she lost her train of thought and she gasped.

“Vals, what happened?”

The woman’s neck had purple bruises disappearing under the collar of her shirt.

“Like I said, anything for freedom.”

“No going back.” Onyx held out a hand to Valia, and they grasped forearms, faces hard. Liz and Gram joined their hands with them. They were all in.

They filed from their cabin, grabbing the pick axes leaning against the outside wall. The change in shifts was the busiest time above the mines. Slaves filed from the mines while those ready to begin waited at the mouth until it was clear. Today was no different.

As Onyx led the way to the mines, she lifted her ax into the air. The gesture was quick. Nothing too out of the ordinary for the guards to think twice, but it caught the attention of the other slaves. Heads turned toward her, and when the last slave left the mine, no one moved to go in.

Tension filled the air. Onyx could smell it exuding from the pores of the people around her. She lifted the ax once more, and Valia copied her. The guards noticed this time. A woman with her hair tied on top of her head scowled and stepped forward.

“Hey, keep those below head level when you aren’t mining!”

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They didn’t. In moments, others thrust their own axes into the air. Guards were backing up, eyes wide as they reached for swords, axes, and daggers, anything they had on hand.

“For freedom!” Onyx screamed.

“For freedom!” Valia repeated.

“For freedom!” The words echoed throughout the camp, voices high and low, sweet and gravely, all screaming the same words.

Onyx stepped to the side, swung her ax, and buried it in the back of a retreating guard. He collapsed, blood spurting from his mouth. Chaos erupted. Two guards threw themselves at Onyx. She ducked below a thrown fist and blocked the swing of a dagger with the handle of her ax. He growled and wrenched it from her grip. Onyx let it go, causing the tribesman to overbalance and fall into the riot, and kicked the weaponless guard in the side of the knee. There was a pop, and he fell, clutching his leg and howling.

A sharp pain pierced her shoulder. Dagger man was back, and the tip of his blade was red. She glanced down. A thin line of blood showed through the rip in her shirt. Onyx returned her gaze to the tribesman and lunged for the dagger. His eyes widened, and he backpedaled. She caught his wrist and wrapped long fingers around it, locking them tight.

She snarled, squeezing. He hissed in pain and went for the ax at his belt, but he was too slow. She kneed him in the gut and he gasped, sinking to the ground. His grip went slack and she pulled the dagger from his fingers.

“To the gates!” She yelled, pushing her way through the crowd as it heaved like the ocean. Slaves, young and old, plowed through anyone in their way to reach the gates. Onyx scanned the area for Valia and found her struggling against a large man she recognized as the gatekeeper. He had her by the shoulders and was shaking her.

Onyx turned against the crowd and fought her way back to her friend, jumping on the gatekeeper's back and plunging the dagger into his neck. He released Valia, reaching for his neck, and she fell to the ground, rubbing her shoulder.

Sliding the dagger from the man's body, Onyx jumped off his back and used his imbalance to push him under the feet of the rioters. She hauled Valia up before the same feet trampled her.

“Let’s go!” Onyx yelled over the screaming, yelling, and clashing of axes.

They stumbled forward in each other's arms, dodging a slave woman about Valia’s age as she brought an ax down on a woman’s head. It splattered like a melon. Valia gagged and averted her eyes.

“We’re almost there!” The giant wooden gates reared up before them as slaves bashed against the doors, screaming to be let out.

Slowly, a gap opened for Onyx and Valia to rush through, slamming into the heavy wooden beams and grabbing the iron lock. She reached into her boot and fumbled with the key, almost dropping it. It took several tries before she shoved the key into the tiny hole, but once she did, the click of it unlocking brought a roar of approval.

The slaves rushed forward, pushing the door open. Onyx had no choice but to follow suit, or else be crushed underfoot. The first ones out tasted freedom for no more than a moment when cries of joy turned to ash in their mouths.

Wisps of shadow coalesced into beings as the appearance of Ghosts brought the stampede to a complete standstill. Onyx ground her teeth as they stepped forward, withdrawing swords. There were only five of them, and hundreds, if not thousands, of slaves. Many would die, but that was the price of freedom.

“Attack!” she screamed and led the charge. All the Ghosts looked the same. Black clothes, black cloaks, hoods pulled low, and masks covering everything except clear, emotionless eyes. She steered toward the shortest one, who was still a good six inches taller than her.

He knocked away her dagger in one swoop and grabbed her throat. She grabbed at his wrist as his fingers contracted, gasping for air. There was nothing in those cold eyes. This was only a job to him. Blackness danced on the edge of her vision as she wondered how she could have believed in such a terrible plan. There was no way a bunch of untrained slaves could take on warriors of this sort.

Onyx felt something give in her throat and knew the end was near. On the edge of her mind, something wriggled just out of reach, if only she could remember…

Then it hit her. The red obsidian in her boot. Pushing it half off with one foot, she kicked her foot and the boot flipped to her outstretched hand. Her fingers snagged the laces as the Ghost leaned back in surprise. In one swift movement, she dumped the rock into her hand and pressed it to the uncovered skin of the Ghost's hand.

The Ghost hissed, eyebrows coming together. His free hand grasped at his chest, but he didn’t once let go. Whatever the red obsidian did to Ghosts, it didn’t reduce their strength. Her fingers fell limp, the obsidian falling to the ground.

A scream rose above the fading din of the slaughter, and something slammed into the Ghost. Onyx dropped to her side, coughing and spluttering. She looked up in time to see Valia pick up her dagger and drive it into the Ghost's side. He staggered back, snarled, and leapt at Valia.

The young woman had no chance. The Ghost had a knife in his hand before Onyx had time to register what was happening. He slashed it horizontally. Valia stepped back and turned to Onyx, surprise on her face. The wound on her neck gaped and blood cascaded down her chest.

Onyx tried to scream, but no sound left her mouth. Valia’s last thought must have been for her baby, because she touched her stomach gently, and crumpled to the ground. Tears blurred Onyx’s vision as she crawled to Valia, mouthing her name over and over.

A wet gurgling came from her friend’s mouth. Onyx touched her face, brushing the hair from her cheek. Valia’s eyes moved lazily to Onyx and she mouthed two words through blood stained lips.

“For freedom.”

Her eyes glazed over as her soul lifted from her body.

Onyx’s grief boiled over. She had lost her family, and now the only friend she had in seventeen passes. Sobs wracked her body as the slaughter continued around her. Even with only five Ghosts, the slaves were no match. People died at an alarming rate, falling into piles.

“She’s gone! Come with me if you want to live!”

Onyx barely registered the young voice and the tug on her shirt, but she dragged her head up and found herself face to face with a woman even younger than Valia. She had short red hair curling towards her neck and a wooden bead hung from one of the strands.

Her hands were pulling on Onyx’s shirt as another Ghost swept around them. This one didn’t have weapons out, but it was obvious he didn’t need any. Onyx took one last look at Valia, and scrambled in the dirt for the obsidian and her boot before allowing the red haired woman to pull her away. She stumbled to her feet, following after several other slaves and the girl.

How they got away, she wasn’t sure. When she remembered the flight, she could swear a Ghost was letting slaves slip around him and disappear into the incessant wind and snow, but that couldn’t be right. Ghosts were sworn to do their bidding.

She shook her head and kept running, never letting that red hair out of her sight, and eventually they reached the base of the mountains. The young woman stood beside the mouth of a cave barely wide enough for an adult to crawl through. She waved the freed slaves into it. When Onyx reached her, she touched her shoulder.

“Keep crawling. It opens up to a larger cavern. Hide here until it calms down, then keep running.”

Onyx didn’t go in right away, letting the next few slaves in first. She watched the young woman ushering them in, and opened her mouth to thank her, but she still couldn’t force the words out. When the woman straightened, Onyx touched her arm, mouthing, “Thank you.”

“Thank me by living,” she said and pushed on Onyx’s shoulder until she bent over and crawled into the damp hole, cutting out the chaos outside.