“You big fat liar.”
Micah opened his eyes. Charlotte stood over him with a judgmental look. A bright blue sky framed her face.
He gasped and scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly. “What? What’s happening? Where are we?” The glare of the morning sun stung his eyes. He shielded them, desperate to gain some understanding.
Charlotte backed away from him, uncertain about his sudden reaction. “What do you mean? We’re still in the desert. What’s wrong with you?”
He tried to calm down, but it was hard. Time had somehow skipped over twelve hours! Had he fallen unconscious? Or maybe he’d been attacked, but a quick check resulted in no wounds.
He put a hand to his forehead, straining for answers. “I don’t understand…”
“Relax, Micah,” Cal said. They turned to see the Murr still perched on the bureau. “You were sleeping.”
“Well, duh,” Charlotte said.
“Illogical.” Micah shook his head. “That can’t be right.”
“Think it through,” Cal replied.
I fell asleep? I’ve never slept a day in my life. How could that be possible? Unless… He whirled to face Charlotte, who took another step back, wringing her hands.
“I guess that’s my fault, too?” she said, laughing nervously.
“It’s the only rational conclusion,” Cal said. “Whatever you did to Micah seems to have undone everything that came with who he was before you met. You could say he’s becoming a normal human being.”
Micah slumped back to the blankets, needing to sit. “I suppose that makes sense. So that was sleep?” He rubbed his eye, clearing away a blurry haze. “My eyes feel… good, actually. Better than they ever have. My whole body, in fact.”
“So you do have two eyes,” Charlotte said.
“Of course I do.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know? I’ve sure never seen the other one. Can you see through your mask or something?”
He stood again, shakily. “Yes.”
“Good. Then use those two refreshed eyes of yours and help me clean up camp. I’m going to make the assumption you would have had us on the road much earlier than now. We’ve got to keep ahead of our pursuers, right? I can skip breakfast for once, I think.”
He looked at her. A teasing smile accompanied twinkling eyes. He nodded and began to gather up the bedding. This will be an adjustment, but I can manage it, he thought. Still… if something as drastic as this has happened, what else might have changed to my body because of her magic? I need to know more about her eyes. Fast.
On the cusp of that evening, the ruins of Steamtown rose over the barren horizon. A deserted metropolis of pipework, rust red and dilapidated, Steamtown’s once busy streets were now wide sandy strips. Charlotte sat up in the seat as they approached, mouth agape as the towering structures reached higher and higher the closer they came. The first series of shooting pipes rose abruptly from the sands, and Micah stopped the chariot just before passing into the city.
Charlotte craned her neck, straining to find the top. “I’ve heard of this place, but I didn’t know it was so huge,” she said, stepping out. “It’s an entire city made of piping!”
“Indeed,” Micah said. They entered the city, walking down a particularly wide road. “While it was technically just a power plant, the sheer size of Steamtown once allowed thousands of workers to both work and live here, providing water and heat for many who used to dwell in the desert. There are millions of miles of pipes weaving in and out of each other and deep underground, some as narrow as your finger, others large enough to enclose houses. It was a wonder of the world, a true marvel of Carnelian ingenuity. It’s said that steam used to fill every street with pleasant clouds of warm mist, and the pipes were constantly whistling and shrieking.”
“So what happened?”
Micah slowly stepped forward onto another sand-strewn street winding a crooked path to the middle of the city. In lieu of giving her an answer, he peeked his head around a corner and spotted what he was looking for. Charlotte hastened to catch up as he turned the bend and approached a wind-beaten stone sticking out of the middle of the road.
“A gravestone?” she said. Weathered letters below a small, faded etching of a spider read:
Maleficent Stormwater
Beloved Sister
“What’s a gravestone doing in the middle of the street?” she asked.
“You asked what happened to Steamtown. Maleficent Stormwater happened. A wanted criminal, she butchered every single person who lived here seven hundred years ago. Thousands of people dead in a single day. Legend tells us she was an evil villain with an unquenchable thirst for blood, but historians believe her act of genocide had been more calculated, meant to draw out the Drifting Queen in an act of revenge.”
“The Drifting Queen?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “I love stories about her. So what happened?”
“They fought in this place, and this is where the queen defeated Stormwater. See the spider etching? Back then, before she was queen, they called her the—”
“White Widow,” Charlotte finished. She smiled.
He nodded. “That’s her tomb mark. This is the exact spot Stormwater was buried.” He put his hand on his hip and looked around at all the rusted structures. “But Steamtown never recovered. Haunted by the death of so many, no one wanted to come and resume operations. Eventually, the works shut down. Situated in the middle of the desert, it was abandoned altogether.”
“Being in this big city all alone gives me the creeps,” Charlotte said, taking his arm.
“We’re not alone. Eventually, we would cross paths with people above ground, but very few wander the streets. These massive structures tend to fall apart. But the pipes beneath the pipes – that’s our destination. Once inside, you need to stick close to me. All manner of thieves, duo agents, and raw magic makers reside here, usually wanting more than anything not to be found.”
“By who?”
“Anyone. Everyone. So stick close. I have friends here, but enemies as well.”
He took her hand and led her back into the street. For several minutes, they walked the lonely avenues. The silence was only interrupted by the intermittent crashing of a distant pipe as it finally gave way. Micah knew a little-used entrance that would allow them to bypass many of the thugs and bandits who waited for easy targets on more frequently used paths into the Underground. Men who might see Charlotte as susceptible prey. But it would mean taking the Deepwell tracks. He would have to take the chance they were still being maintained.
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An open pipe, obscure and severely rusted with a diameter just bigger than Charlotte was tall, poked out from a certain assemblage of pipes. Micah ducked into it. They both produced Life Stones when the passage drew dark. Holding them up, ample illumination guided their way.
“What about Cal?” Charlotte asked, watching the ceiling of the pipe more than the floor. She shuddered and twitched, looking all around.
“He will be fine. The higher, the better for him. He hates going underground. He’ll know once we come back up. Don’t ask me how he— stop, stop! What are you doing?”
Charlotte’s twitching had become more like short bursts of hysteria. She swiped at her face and hair, jumping and squealing.
“Sorry! I’m worried about spiders. I hate those things.”
“There are no spiders down here.”
“Really?” she said, calming down sudden as a finger snap.
“What you need to watch for are the pasilbugs. They’re much worse.”
“What? What are those?”
“I wouldn’t worry. They’re not usually hungry at this time of night.”
She gasped and clutched his arm tighter. He moved forward again, glad she couldn’t see the smirk on his face. For several minutes, they drove deep into the pipe, noticing how moist the air had become. Omnipresent sounds of running water echoed faintly in their ears. A green tinge against the walls eventually became visible, like the light from glow worms, growing in intensity until they were able to put their crystals away.
The green light soon flooded the pipe, and the circular walls expanded into an elbow turn with a broad dome. The source of the light was a lamp on a metal stand in a corner. The pipe broke off into two different directions. One was boarded off. Beside the other, a man stood casually as if he had expected them. He wore light clothing despite the cool damp, and atop his head sat a red straw hat with a wide brim. His bearded face seemed reptilian against the intense smolder of the lamp.
“Which one are ya?” he asked uncertainly. The island accent of the Vertigas echoed inside the dome.
“Champlain,” Micah answered.
He seemed relieved. “Ah, I thought for a moment you were… well never mind. It’s been a long time. Who’s the pretty lady?”
“Tinn, when was the last time you checked the tracks?”
The man called Tinn gave a short laugh. “Suspicious as always. The tracks are fine. Well, they’re fine for someone who knows how to use ‘em.”
“I didn’t ask if they were fine. I asked the last time you checked them.”
“Oh, a couple days ago I’d wager.” Micah’s single-eyed glower made Tinn shift nervously on his feet. He scratched his beard. “Ya know… a week or so. Maybe two. Look, they’re fine. I just sent someone down not one hour ago.”
“Improbable. But it’s easy to send someone down. The question is whether this person you sent arrived at his destination in one piece.”
“Look, I’ll send the cart down, and you can see for yourself how it comes back just fine.”
He sauntered over to the pipe opening not boarded up, moving in a sideways shift like an old crab. Mounted on the wall was a lever. A mechanical contraption on the floor released a black cable, which was attached to a stand-only cart.
Charlotte toed closer to get a better look. The cart sat on rusted rails and featured only a nicked two-bar handle. The dark tunnel dove underground at a daunting angle.
“Don’t tell me you want us to get on that thing?” she asked.
“Intendidly. It’s the best way to shave four hours. These tunnels are more extensive than you can imagine.” He turned to Tinn. “But first, let’s see it.”
Tinn huffed with a shake of his head. “Sheesh. Always so pushy, ya Black Sons.” He released the lever.
With a grinding screech that made Charlotte jump, the cart shot down the tracks, followed by the cable. Faster and faster the rope churned from the box, grinding with a high-pitched scream. Ten minutes later, there was a bang and the cable snapped taut. Tinn took a wench sticking out from the cable box and began to turn it with laborious grunts. After another wait, the cart returned to its former position.
“There,” Tinn wheezed, hunching over and grabbing his side. “See? Nothing…to worry…about.”
“I suppose,” Micah replied, producing three gold coins and dropping them into Tinn’s hand. He hopped onto the cart, holding the handle and fitting his feet into small grooves on the metal platform. He held out his hand for Charlotte, who looked at the vehicle nervously.
“It’s a serving tray on wheels, Micah,” she said. Tinn harrumphed. She wrung her hands. “Are you sure this is safe?”
She wrings her hands like that frequently, Micah observed. “I’ve done this many times. Do you honestly think I would let any harm come to you?”
She danced in place a few times before finally taking his hand, gripping him tight around the waist. Without word or warning, Tinn gave a short salute and released the lever.
The cart surged with a gravity-releasing plunge into the pipe’s pitch-black bowels. Charlotte screamed as her feet left the cart. Trailing through the air like a waving flag, she stayed aboard only by her desperate grip around his body. Micah brought his arm around, taking hold of her and forcing her back down.
“Hang on to me!” he shouted over the screeching rails.
She tucked her feet between his and clutched to him, burying her face into his shoulder and yelping with every jolt. The cart careened through the pipes at greater speeds. Intermittent lamps sprang into sight in split seconds, flashing images of their harrowing pace before pitting them back into pure darkness. The cart protested every turn, seeming to threaten derailment each time. Other sets of rails crossed several times as pipes converged or broke away. Micah prayed no one was taking the tracks at the same time.
For several minutes, the cart wound its weaving path deep underground. Charlotte peeked her head over his shoulder, still clutching to him so close, Micah knew there would be bruises. Her hair whipped a frenzy around their heads, and he could sense her shivering from the cold and her own panic. Stunned, he realized in that moment how easily he had disregarded her when choosing the Deepwells. Feeling her tremble against him, he regretted his decision – why did he think anyone else would so easily embrace a travel method such as this, especially a female? The logic had escaped him.
He sensed the end of the jaunt, recognizing the particular turns in the pipes. But just when he thought there might be nothing to worry about, there was a bang, as if they struck a rock. The cart jumped, swerving in a wide arc and fanning a sheet of sparks. Charlotte cried out as her feet nearly left the cart again. Micah just managed to keep them on the rails, but not before it cut a turn down a pipe he didn’t recognize. Sludge and algae lined the opening, and a spray of water blasted the cylinder walls as they shot through the pipe. Water nearly covered these tracks – a tunnel with which Micah was wholly unfamiliar.
Not good. Tinn, you bastard.
A light, faint at first but intensifying, opened before their eyes. The cart began to shake, rubbing Micah’s hands raw. His eyes widened in alarm as the rails broke ahead, dropping into an immense cavern. Before he could do anything, the cart shot off the tracks into an abyss too deep to see the bottom. The cable snapped. Micah held on to the cart, but Charlotte lost her grip in the sudden plunge, screaming as she twisted off the cart and plunged.
“MICAH!”
He watched her fall. Wide eyes, flailing arms, fluttering dress. For the second time, she plummeted before his sight. To a terrible end, all because of him. Farther and farther she separated. He would lose her.
Micah grimaced. No more. This is the last time I let her suffer on my account.
He whipped an Element Stone from his belt, snapping his arm out. A jet of water exploded from the tip, catching her leg. The stream instantly froze into a column of ice, ensnaring her in a tight hold. Still holding the cart handle, he swung with all his might, casting her toward another pipe opening in the cavern wall far below. The ice broke with a groaning snap, and she hurled like a meteor.
Micah tugged an earring. Blue fire exploded in a rush of heat, catching the cart in midair to surround him. The horses dove like a hawk after prey, pulling him behind. He caught up to Charlotte and snatched her from the air around the waist, pulling her to him and planting their feet on the railcar. The horses leveled with the opening in the cavern and swooped in a tight arch, whipping the cart through the air like a cannon. The cart slammed onto new rails, spraying a stream of sparks and rattling in booming echoes.
Micah squeezed the handles, gritting his teeth. Wheels groaned, begging for the end.
Charlotte pointed ahead. “Oh no! Micah, look!”
The cart was slowing, but ahead, thick planks sealed the exit. He quickly drew his sword, a weapon with no blade. Charlotte gasped and planted her face into his back, fingers raking his chest. The cart reached the end. He plunged the sword handle through.
Wood exploded with an angry roar, spraying them with splinters as they crashed headlong through the opening. Micah landed on his feet and immediately leaped, abandoning his sword to catch Charlotte before she hit the ground. He rolled with the momentum, letting his body take the brunt of the impact. For several feet they tumbled across level ground until finally coming to a stop. Micah covered her head as dust plumes and shards of wood rained over them. It took several moments until the violent echo of the collision died, leaving them back in the hollow embrace of silence. The faintest of light from a faraway source scattered through the floating dust and debris.
Charlotte’s heart pounded, a caged hummingbird between their chests. She quivered in his arms. It took several minutes for her breathing to slow. Finally, her head lifted to look at him, and he met her gaze.
She smiled feebly. “Weeeee…”
“Are you alright?”
She nodded, laying her forehead back on his chest. “I think I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute.”
“I’m truly sorry, Charlotte.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I put your life in peril because I didn’t weigh the risks. Traveling alone, I never had to worry about such dangers. I knew how to protect myself, but to protect others? I neither considered nor comprehended such a thing. And I asked for friendship! You trusted me, and I failed you. It took only a moment, watching you fall, to realize how much I have yet to learn.”
His voice lowered to a whisper. “If you can forgive me, I promise I will never put you in harm’s way like that again.”
Without hesitation, she nodded once more. “Deal.”