Chapter 22: Tunnels and Trickery

The sound of scraping claws echoed through the narrow, dimly lit tunnel, suffused with the scent of damp soil. Vikka paused, her chest heaving as she leaned against the dirt wall, looking up at the loose soil crumbling over her head. Nearby, Nynka worked with a quiet determination, her tail twitching in agitation as she tried to clear another section.

It was frustrating to realize that as they dug forward, the walls would start crumbling under the strain, undoing all their hard work.

“Wait!” Vikka hissed, holding up a claw. She watched as a fresh section of the tunnel wall collapsed into a messy heap, sending a cloud of dirt into the air.

Nynka froze, her eyes squinting through the haze and darting nervously toward the unstable ceiling. “This isn’t going to work,” she said. “We’re going to get buried alive if we keep at it like this.”

Vikka gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to admit it, but Nynka was right. Digging horizontally was proving far more dangerous than she had anticipated. She crouched, inspecting the soil, her mind racing for a solution.

“We’ll find a way,” she muttered, more to herself than to Nynka. “There has to be something we can use to reinforce the walls.”

“We’ve already tried hay,” Nynka snapped. “It’s too soft. And there’s not enough spare wood around to use without the humans noticing.”

Tesska’s tail flicked impatiently. “Then what else is there?”

Vikka’s claws flexed in frustration. She hated feeling cornered. As the dirt continued to shift dangerously around them, she knew she had no other choice but to call out for help.

The idea of reaching out to Sylven through the bond gnawed at her pride, but she forced herself to close her eyes and focus. As Vikka closed her eyes to reach out to the Shy, the bond carried the faint hum of his thoughts—a comforting tether amid the suffocating uncertainty

Sylven, we’re stuck. The tunnel keeps collapsing. Do you have any ideas?

There was a pause before Sylven’s voice came through, tinged with concern. Are you and the others okay?

We’re fine for now, but if we can’t figure out how to reinforce the walls, this whole plan is dead in the dirt.

I’ll ask the others. Maybe they’ll have an idea.

Vikka exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She hated relying on anyone else, but after everything they had been through together, she trusted Sylven—and she thought if there was one thing the Shy would be good at, it would be digging themselves out of a hole.

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In their cabinet, Sylven explained the kobolds’ predicament to the gathered Shy.

“Loose dirt needs structure,” Mara said. “But we don’t exactly have spare wood lying around or be able to send it over.”

“Something fibrous may help,” Sela suggested. “But adding just hay alone wouldn’t work.”

From the wall he was leaning against while listening, Veyran spoke up. “They’ll need to change the nature of the dirt itself. While using what they already have.”

The room went quiet as everyone turned to the Deepshy.

“What do you mean?” Sylven asked.

“You could harden the soil,” Veyran replied. “The Deepshy have a technique for reinforcing weak clay and mud. It involves adding egg whites. It binds the material together, creating a stronger, more cohesive structure.”

“Egg whites? Sylven repeated incredulously, his eyes widening as he realized what Veyran implied. “You’re saying the kobolds should break their own eggs to bind dirt?”

“It’s their best option,” Veyran admitted, “Let’s face it—those eggs would otherwise be taken by the humans anyway. This way, they’d be used for the kobolds’ own benefit.”

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When Sylven relayed Veyran’s suggestion to Vikka, her immediate reaction was shock.

Mix our eggs with dirt?! She practically shouted through the bond. You’re serious!?

Veyran swears it’ll work. Sylven transmitted emphatically. It’ll turn the dirt into mud that’ll eventually harden. You can also try mixing in some hay for extra strength.”

Vikka’s claws dug into the floorboards as she considered the idea. To the kobolds, eggs were sacred— vessels of life, hope, and legacy. Even unfertilized, they were reserved for purposes necessary for the hive's survival, such as providing light as candles, or to feed weaker hatchlings. The very thought of desecrating them for mud, to use as mere building materials, felt like a blasphemous betrayal. But as she looked around the barn at the other kobolds mindlessly humming under Grilsha’s thrall, a grim realization settled over her.

What are the humans even doing with the eggs? she thought. What purpose are they serving now?

She conferred with her team, explaining just what was at stake. Ragtag they may be, but their odd grouping had somehow coalesced into a functional team.

“The humans are likely doing worse things to the eggs,” Nynka snorted.

“This is better,” Tesska agreed. “A more noble offering. At least their sacrifice goes to helping our kind regain our freedom.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Tibbin, who had been eavesdropping from the corner, let out a strangled laugh. “You’re joking, right? If Grilsha finds out about this, she’ll have our tails. Besides, those eggs are supposed to keep the humans happy.”

“Why should we care about keeping them happy? They don’t really seem to care about us or our eggs.” Vikka shot back. “So what If they get fewer eggs for a time, it won’t matter when we’re gone.”

Tibbin hesitated, looking back at the barn. “I’m not sure how much more I can run interference with Grilsha and the others,” he muttered.

“You’ve been doing just fine for yourself this whole time,” Vikka reassured the male kobold. “If you need a better cover story, then we all better start figuring one out. Because for now, we’re going to need to stretch your persuasive skills, Tibbin. You’re the only one who can get extra eggs from Grilsha’s gang without raising suspicion.”

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The next day, Tibbin was able to scrounge for several eggs, carefully bartered from the other kobolds in exchange for shiny trinkets and vague promises of Grilsha’s favor. It took the tunneling trio—Vikka, Nynka, and Tesska— a bit of effort to overcome their instinctive aversion to breaking fresh eggs. But once they had gotten over it, work proceeded quickly, even gleefully. They smashed and mixed the eggs into the dirt packed loosely around the maw of the bend in the tunnel where they had first begun to dig horizontally.

The reaction wasn’t immediate, but as the mixture began to dry, it congealed into a sticky mud. They then pressed hay into to the mix, compacting it against the walls for extra support. After about an hour, the walls had hardened noticeably, forming a solid, reinforced layer.

“It’s holding,” Nynka said, her voice filled with cautious hope.

Tibbin hovered at the tunnel entrance, his head in his hands. “What have we gotten ourselves into!? There’s no turning back now…” he groaned.

“Only ever forwards, eh?” Vikka grinned back at her team. “Not even the giant humans can stop us!”

With the tunnel’s structure now stabilized, their path to freedom had turned literally more concrete.

Closing her eyes, Vikka reached out through the bond, her thoughts rippling toward her Shy friend.

The connection flared to life. Vikka! Are you alright? How did it go?

Vikka’s tail patted the solid walls with satisfaction. It worked. Your Deepshy knew what he was talking about.

Relief surged through the bond, like a wave crashing against her mind. I’m glad. We were worried about even suggesting it. About what it might mean.

We understand. Vikka made the effort to send back a deep sense of gratitude. You Shy didn’t have to share your knowledge with us, but you did. It’s curious though that we kobolds never thought of the same purpose back in the Caverns.

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The scrape of claws against dirt halted abruptly as Tesska let out a startled yelp.

“Vikka! We’ve hit something!” she hollered, withdrawing from their forward position.

Vikka hurried over, brushing past Nynka to inspect the breach. A swarm of black ants poured from the hole, their legs moving with frantic purpose, a living wave of motion spilling onto the floor.

“Ugh, ants!” Nynka groaned, hopping back to avoid the mass. “They’re everywhere! Good thing they can't bite through our scales.”

Vikka crouched low as she watched the insects scatter. Their movements weren’t random—there was a motivation to all their commotion. The nest seemed intent on one thing: salvaging what had been disturbed. The creatures scurried back and forth, focused on carrying dirt and other materials back to their nest to patch the sections that the kobolds’ tunnel had breached. Her eyes also caught how they swarmed around and transported certain supplies with extra enthusiasm. These included the stray bits of hay and kobold eggs that were the leftovers of their tunneling work.

An idea began to form.

Her gaze shifted to Nynka, who was waiting for her turn to tunnel while Tesska was leading the digging. “See how they’re all over the egg scraps?” Vikka asked, pointing with her snout toward a particularly busy swarm making quick work of a half-shattered egg.

Nynka squinted at the activity and shrugged. “So? It’s just ants doing ant things.”

Vikka’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Exactly. But if you didn’t know better, wouldn’t you think something was wrong with an egg covered with ants?”

“You mean... I'd think it was broken…” Nynka’s brow furrowed as she puzzled out Vikka’s meaning. “…or rotten?”

“Precisely,” Vikka replied. “Tibbin’s sweet-talking isn’t working as well as before. But they’ll heed their own eyes. If they see the ants swarming an egg, they’ll think it’s bad—and they won’t care as much about giving it up.”

Nynka tilted her head, her tail wagging in thought. “But what would Grilsha say?”

“I have a feeling she hasn’t laid an egg in so long she’s forgotten what it’s like,” Vikka disclosed. “I’m sure Tibbin and I can push her to play along, without her figuring out that she’s being played.”

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A group of kobolds gathered around the assortment of eggs that were crawling with ants as they lay loosely in the hay. They tittered worriedly amongst themselves while observing the insects’ making a beeline straight to what otherwise seemed like a perfectly intact cluster.

“What’s happening?” one kobold asked nervously.

“Are they... cracked?” another ventured, her voice tinged with alarm.

“Looks like they may be rotting inside already,” Vikka said matter-of-factly. “You know from back in the Cradle how the ants can tell when eggs are bad, even before the nest mothers could?”

“The humans won’t be happy if we hand over rotten eggs,” Tibbin gasped dramatically. “Queen Grilsha wouldn’t allow it!”

The kobolds clasped their tails together as they exchanged looks of concern. Their instincts screamed at them to protect their eggs, but their fear of incurring Grilsha’s ire, and the eventual human reprisal, was stronger.

“Please, get rid of mine,” one finally said, her voice shaky. “Tibbin, just do… whatever it is you do with them.” She nudged an egg toward Tibbin, who accepted it without hesitation, but with no small amount of surprise on his face.

Well, that’s a first…” he whispered to Vikka as he took the egg down to their tunnel cache.

More kobolds began following suit, each pushing their “tainted” eggs forward.

The commotion eventually drew Grilsha’s attention, and the pretender queen waddled over, a threadbare, but still glittery, boa wrapped around her neck, shedding tinsel in her wake.

What’s this unseemly racket?” Grilsha bellowed as she broke up the gathering.

Tibbin was ready with his spiel. He turned to her and bowed with over-the-top deference. “Queen Grilsha, we found a trail of ants targeting this set off eggs. As Your Massiveness would know in your infinite wisdom as our queen, bearer of all knowledge regarding not just kobolds, but all living creatures… that when ants start swarming an egg, it is likely cracked, contaminated, festering inside, or otherwise unfit for the nest. We’re just trying to make sure the humans won’t get even a slight whiff of them and come to the wrong conclusion!”

“Something’s rotten in the Brood Barn all right,” Vikka stage whispered to Tesska, making sure the bedazzled one caught her aside.

Grilsha’s eyes widened in horror. “Rotten eggs? That won’t do at all! The humans must only see and receive the best of us.” She clapped her hands, addressing the gathered kobolds.

“If you have any questionable eggs, give them up now. We can’t risk disappointing our benefactors. Tibbin… take them and go do… whatever it is you do with them,” she ordered.

“Way ahead of you, Your Immensity,” Tibbin grabbed two eggs with his stubby claws, making a show of sweeping the ants away from their previous nesting spots with his tail.

Grilsha’s authority sealed the deal. The remaining holdouts reluctantly pushed their ant-covered eggs forward, reassured by the dramatic approval of their self-crowned sovereign.

As the kobolds dispersed, Vikka, Nynka and Tesska helped Tibbin relocate their sudden windfall of discarded eggs into the tunnel.

“You two…” Nynka shook her head, her tone a mixture of admiration and disbelief. “Not that long ago, I would never have imagined you working together to dupe Grilsha.”

Vikka smirked. “Sometimes, you have to think like a queen to outsmart one. Even a bad fake one like Her Density.”

“To be honest, I really would just rather be digging dirt and breaking eggs than singing along with those tone-deaf sore-tails,” Tibbin quipped archly as he scrambled together more of their magic mud with gusto. “I have to admit that the days have gotten a LOT less dull recently...”

From her crude throne in the center of the Brood Barn, the not-quite-queen Grilsha carried on preening and humming, oblivious to the role she had just played in undermining her own authority.