Osana’s abstract dreams unravelled into a sickening feeling that only got worse as she descended deeper into a fiery cavern. A searing flame bubbled below as she fell. Walls of hot magma dripped and swelled. Through watery painful eyes she stared upward. Her only escape. Only to be greeted by blackness.

A deep hiss from the ground roared; yanking her from her dream. She shot up from the rug she was sleeping on, only to hear an explosive blast. Beside her, Rebekah slept quietly; wrapped tightly in her blanket. The noise drew her from her bed and into the street. She glanced at the mines, noting the grey smoke rising into the air.

Despite the chill of the evening, her palms began to sweat. When no one reacted to the sight, her mind raced to the injured men trapped under a collapse. Sam was there; he had told them he worked the night shift. She wasted no time and teleported along the street until she passed the dunes. Reaching the edge of the giant crater.

It was deep, with hundreds of empty wobbly ladders spanning the walls. Everyone seemed focused on the bottom, where great fires surrounded large boulders. The smoke climbed into the sky, and she felt the heat on her toes. The men below were shirtless, full of soot and hammered at the boulders.

Every couple of strikes sent chips of the rock falling to the base. Foremen with whips shouted to the workers who rushed to grab firewood from the various piles scattered among them. The cracks of the whip snapped in the air as the workers tossed more onto the hot fires.

The sight was memorizing. The dance of the flames licking the five tonne stones. The song of the iron hammers smashing the giant into small pieces. She sat on the edge to let her feet dangle. She swayed at the humming that reminded her of Haddak’s great forge. Strength, sweat, and rhythm was all it took to remind her of family.

As the song reached a chorus, another man called out, louder than the other. A Crim commanded a row of men and women with chains around their necks. Dirty rags hung over their bruised bodies. They walked in single file until they flanked a rock with dimming flames.

Another order and they raised their hands in front of their bodies. Their magic fluttered as it swirled to life inside them. Mages, she cocked her head; she didn’t realize they were Mage slaves as well. Two boys, on either side of the line, carried a bucket and at the command of the master, tossed its contents.

Water leaped from the wooden lips; in a quick motion the Mages made their move. Their hands pushed outwards, catching the water mid-air. Every droplet floated in front of them. With a circular motion, the water churned. Doubled, then tripled in size. With a final push they tossed it onto the rocks. An angry hiss erupted, then a deafening crack, as the boulder split. Large chunks fell to the ground as steam dissipated over them.

The entire performance started again, taking place at each boulder. She applauded the mortals. An interesting way to smash rocks with half the effort. With her curiosity quenched, she stood and stretched. Glancing at the full moon hanging above. She wondered if Kelani was, at that moment, looking at the same moon. Did she miss her?

Her memory was cut short as movement to her left caught her attention. Near a donkey drawn wagon was Sam. He looked around, surveying the area while trying to keep his body hidden behind the cart. He didn’t wear his easygoing expression like before. Instead, his lips were pursed, and he clutched his hand into a fist.

She used her magic to conceal herself and stalked closer to her new friend. As she approached a younger boy dressed in rags emerged from the shadows. Their conversation was quiet and short lived. Sam handed something to him and left as quietly as he arrived.

She should’ve gone back to the tent. If Kelani was there; she would have advised her as such. Sneaking around at night, never led to anything lawful or good for the soul. But that was the difference between the two. Kelani was safe in the kingdom tutoring a Mage at her beloved Academy. Osana was stuck in the middle of a predicament neither of them predicted.

And despite the love she had for her sister, she wasn’t always right. She needed to follow her gut. It was always right, like an arrow hitting the target. She followed its lead and shadowed the ragged dressed boy through winding paths between old, patched tents.

The boy darted like a mouse rushing over the prairie. He was small, partially hobbled, and always on the lookout for a threat. As the camp slept, he made his way to a group of tents hidden behind a set of cooking tents. From the road this small squat set of tents are invisible to anyone who isn't looking for them. Crawling behind tall stacks of crates, she followed and saw him pry open a crate with a meal spoon from his pocket.

Surveying the dark one last time, he crawled inside. And so did she. It was a small tunnel of wood disguised as supply crates. It was barely big enough for her, but the boy seemed to be the perfect size. The hard dirt bruised her knees, and tiny pebbles jabbed her palms. She was grateful the tunnel led to a wooded door. He knocked four times.

The seconds dragged on, but it was only a few moments before someone removed the panel revealing a dark lit space. Two sets of hands reached in and pulled the boy inside. She teleported in as they shut the opening behind them. The top of the guard's heads brushed the tent ceiling. All around her was crates and jars, the contents sealed from prying eyes. Like their entrance, their exit was also disguised as a worn crate.

A dusty lantern sat on another box, adding enough light to make out the shapes of the people but concealing most details. The men inspected the boy, tossing his thin hair in greeting. One walked towards the tent wall, only to unpin a section to reveal another exit. From the outside the tents looked like separate living arrangements. But it was a lie, they hid the passages well, camouflaging them in crates or fake tent panels.

The silence settling over them, made her uncomfortable. Suspicion hung in the air and made it hard to breathe. Although she didn't sense they wanted to do her any harm. She felt their hearts, and they were certainly capable of it. She heard muffling sounds in the next section. When the man returned, he motioned for the boy to follow.

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They entered a larger meeting area. A group of five people sat on pillows around a dim lantern. The rugs under her feet were old and worn but it was better than sitting on the ground. The man the boy approached had a long string moustache. Like two worms drooping from his top lip. He wore a box like hat made of limp fabric hanging flat on his head.

He smiled warmly at the boy, hugged him and accepted the item he brought to him. With a small prayer on his behalf the boy left the way he came. The man inspected the object, holding it under the lantern light. It was a polished stone, and the rounded edges made it look like solid liquid. He inspected it, the others leaned towards his hands, as a hush fell over the room. Each man mumbled and nodded, taking turns holding it and studying it with great interest.

Beside her something moved. In the shadows of the candles spread over the floor, she noticed more people lounging on pillows picking food off long wooden plates. She made out the shapes of women and men, their attention turned to the men in the middle. They passed the stone to the people on the side, which brought a new wave of whispers. The leader stood, addressing everyone in a hushed voice.

“Brothers and sisters, our friends have made a move. It’s there clear as day. Naegulich. We must prepare ourselves for three days from now.”

“Tota, let me look at the rune again. I think you’re mistaken, and its Aphoke. Not Naegulich.”

“Don’t be foolish Viteel,” Tota shot back. “You’re a coward of an old man. It's not Aphoke, no matter how much you will it to change, it won’t.”

A whispered argument broke out among the members of the tent. Each debated the symbol and hurled insults at each other. The group remained divided between the followers of Tota and Viteel. Tota had the most support and the more vocal ones. However, Viteel didn’t back down. They went in circles until there was another knock on the tent which silenced them. They glanced at each other, and Tota dismissed the members.

She filed out behind them, more confused than when she entered. Such hatred over a rock and a word she couldn’t read. She thought of waking Rebekah and asking her, but she would chastise her for spying. Free from the threat of getting caught, she revealed her form and wandered through the camp.

As dawn approached, she saw the miners file out of the mines. Tired, dusty, bruised and worn they trudged down the road towards the tents. She looked past the dark circles under their eyes and their slumped shoulders and spies Sam.

He marched in line with the other exhausted men barely registering her presence. Their eyes met, he gave a weak smile and a short nod. All he wanted was a bed, and she wanted nothing more for him to rest. But first she had questions, and he was the only one who can give her answers. If the Tota man was correct, she only had three days. And if Rebekah was in danger, one more minute was too long to waste. She rushed to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

“What does Naegulich mean. Who’s Tota?”

The shift of his face from tired to angry happened in the second it took for lightning to strike. His hand went for her throat while the other covered her mouth. The scent of dust invaded her nose. The wild crazed look in his eyes shocked her into submission. He pushed her from the watchful crowd over the uneven road. Not saying a word until they were out of earshot.

“Where did you learn those words?” He hissed. His grip was stronger than she expected. But he trembled as he removed his hand from her mouth.

“I overheard them last night.”

“Did you follow him?”

“The boy, yes. Who was he, why did you give him that rune? What’s going on here?”

“You need to stay out of it.”

“If you didn’t want people snooping around then maybe you shouldn’t be so obvious. If I saw you, what makes you think others didn’t.” He pursed his lips, but didn’t argue.

“You need to forget what you heard. If not, you’re putting all of us in danger.”

“I’m not leaving without answers. Tell me about the rune.”

“Naegulich, is an old word for attack. Are you happy now.”

“No, nothing about this feels like happiness. The opposite really. What do you mean attack, is someone going to attack us?”

“I’ve said enough. I need to go.” He turned to leave but her body still trembled under the weight of his words. She reached for his arm, but he brushed her off.

“I need to know...”

“You will, in three days' time.” He turned to walk away.

“What about Rebekah, are you going to let her get hurt? You need to tell her.”

“I’m not saying anything to anyone. And neither are you. If you want to keep her alive, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

He left leaving her with an impossible decision. In any other circumstance she would refuse to hide anything from anyone. But the fear of something happening to Rebekah scared her. She had been through so much, had survived so much with so little. She didn’t want Rebekah to suffer any more.

Three days. All she needed to do was wait. She had complained her time in the dish tent was the worst thing that happened to her. But she was wrong, waiting with a burning secret of an unknown threat was worse than a lifetime of dishes. Sam’s absence in their day to day made Rebekah worry. During breaks between meals and dishes, she would seek out friends of his. Although she never got a chance to speak with him, their reassurance that he was fine seemed to be enough. Until the next day when she went out to search for him again.

“Where are you going now?” Osana asked as Rebekah motioned to leave. “He’s fine, everyone says so. And there haven’t been any serious injuries in the mines lately.”

“I dunno, I just feel like something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno, it's a feeling in my gut. Like everything has been okay for too long so something bad is about to happen.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

But as Rebekah slipped from the tent, she heard screams erupt from the streets. Then she remembered when the last time she heard from Sam. Three days ago. She rushed outside as the midday sky darkened with arrows whizzing overhead. The camp slipped into panic. All Osana could do was study the bleached bone tipped arrow that landed in the ground at her feet.