Chapter 31 – Shards and Shadows

While the kobold tunnel team took the day off to recover and maintain appearances at the barn, another crucial player in the escape was preparing for his next move.

Uiska perched on the windowsill of the overseer’s study, his small frame pressed against the glass. His ears twitched, alert for the sounds of the humans going about their movements for the day. Through his bond with Sylven, he sensed the urgency building up below, a tension that made his fur prickle.

The Shy’s voice whispered in his mind. “Uiska, check the charge on your harness shard.”

Uiska nuzzled the small gemstone embedded in the harness across his chest. It thrummed with warm energy. He had been close to the large glowing arclith stone in the overseer’s desk drawer for days. It appeared to have replenished his shard’s energy by now.

Sylven relayed the news to Veyran, who whistled in awe. “If it’s that large, it could be as powerful as a motherlode from the Deep,” the Deepshy suggested. “No wonder it charged his shard so quickly.”

Sylven's mind raced. Magic... they could actually risk using it. He steadied himself, his thoughts a focused beam. “Alright, Uiska,” he sent. “We have a plan. I’ll walk you through it but feel free to improvise.” The pika mentally chirped in assent.

“First, I'm going to cast Knock on the window latch to open it. Focus on that now.”

Uiska crouched low, a furry shadow by the window, eyes closed as he channeled the energy thrumming within his harness shard. Sylven's presence pulsed steady in his mind, a comforting anchor.

“Focus… Knock,” Sylven beamed through the bond.

The shard’s glow intensified, the soft hum building to a pulse. Then—click. The latch sprang open.

Uiska froze, every nerve taut, listening. Footsteps? Voices? His ears and nose were operating at their peak, but his body remained still. He sensed nothing but the distant hum of human activity. Only then did he allow himself a small squeak of triumph.

“Well done,” Sylven said, relief tinged with excitement. “Let’s keep going. You’re doing great. It looks like we can get you in and out, as long as nobody’s watching. Now, about getting you down...”

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The steps for the plan were straightforward in theory. Through the bond, Sylven would guide him step by step and cast a series of cantrips. First, Knock to unfasten the window. Then Blur, cloaking Uiska in shimmering distortion. Then once he leapt, Sylven would cast Feather Fall to slow his descent, ensuring a safe landing.

Wyatt would be ready to break his fall, then they would scout around to find a safe spot from where Uiska could dig toward the tunnel leading to the workshop. With his vantage point, he’d also be able to coordinate through the bond with Sylven in which direction the tunnel should go to safely clear the walls of the compound and lead outside. Once the tunnel route had been determined, then the kobolds, now with help from the Shy, could resume their digging.

After scouting, Wyatt would boost him back up to just below the roof’s edge. Then Sylven would cast Jump, allowing him to spring back inside and relatch the window. Simple.

It all went smoothly at first. The Knock spell worked. Blur shimmered around Uiska, turning him into a fuzzy mirage in the shadows. He leapt from the roof, Sylven’s magic slowing his fall as he drifted toward Wyatt’s waiting hands below.

Then, came the bumps.

Wyatt had positioned himself just under the eaves, hidden in the shadows. Coast was clear—until a door creaked open… just as Uiska descended. A worker trudged out with a bucket of coal, heading towards the nearby coalbin to dump his load.

Wyatt panicked, thinking he had to scramble, or else they’d be seen. This meant Uiska hit the ground harder than expected. Not enough to hurt him, thanks to Feather Fall, but his Blur cloaking began to falter.

The man stopped mid-step, noticing a blinking bit of fuzz out of the corner of his eye. His gaze swept the area, seeking out the strobing dust bunny. “Huh!?” he exclaimed eloquently.

Uiska’s fur bristled. He blurred in and out erratically, the flow of magic disrupted by the sudden impact of his landing.

The worker stepped closer towards where the pika was trying to get back on his feet.

Wyatt reacted instantly. He threw a rock at the bin, sending pieces of coal tumbling to the ground.

The man jerked back toward the coal and swore under his breath. “Blasted wind,” he muttered, before heading over to put the coal on the ground back in the bin.

Wyatt let out a breath he’d been holding. While the worker was busy, he crouched and scooped Uiska up, cradling him close then dashing around the nearest corner.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked the pika. Uiska chittered back in exasperation.

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With a determined wiggle, Uiska burrowed into the soft earth, paws kicking up loose dirt as Wyatt kept a vigilant watch. He dug with frantic speed, guided by Sylven's mental map. The soil was loose, thankfully, but the distance was considerable. By the time he broke through to the tunnel leading to the workshop, dirt clung to his fur and his claws throbbed with exertion.

He bounded through the kobold tunnel—wide by his standards—his nose and the scent of Shy leading him right to the spot just beneath their cabinet. The hole leading up was tantalizingly close, but too steep for him to climb, and much too small for him to squeeze through. Still, it was something. After more than a month of separation, he and Sylven were finally able to see each other physically, their eyes meeting across the narrow divide.

A surge of hope coursed through Uiska. He was no longer a lone pika among the giants. Digging and scurrying through tunnels reminded him of being back in the warren.

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He noticed another Shy beside Sylven, taller and much paler than the others he remembered from the caldera. Sylven explained that the Deepshy wanted to talk to Uiska about what he’d noticed while among the humans, specifically the arclith in the overseer’s room.

“How big was it, more or less?” he asked Uiska, having Sylven relay his queries. “Can you describe it?”

Uiska, still grooming dust from his fur, flicked his ears irritably at having to humor what he thought were tiresome questions. “It was big. As big as a young pika. Bright! With a dark blue, almost violet glow, like the moon over the caldera,” his voice sounded huffy even in Sylven's mind. “I didn’t get to see it up close or sniff it—I was trying not to be caught.”

Veyran went still, staring into the tunnel as if he could visualize the glowing arclith through the dirt. 'If it's as large as he says,” his voice trembled with barely contained excitement. “It could—” He abruptly stopped himself.

Sylven didn’t like the look in the Deepshy’s eyes. “We need to focus on the escape,' he insisted firmly. 'The priority is getting everyone out, not chasing after some magic rock.”

Veyran's face was a mask of conflicting emotions. “It's not just a rock, Sylven,' he countered. “If we let this slip through our fingers, we may never have another chance.”

Veyran’s usual cool composure cracked. "That’s a power source. A motherlode," he stressed.

Sylven nodded grimly. "I don’t doubt you. Uiska wouldn’t know how to exaggerate."

The Deepshy had never shown much personal investment in the escape before. He possessed knowledge and a deep understanding of magic and arclith. But he had always remained cautious, detached. Now, Sylven suspected he was seeing a dangerous obsession taking root.

The pika paced below the cabinet hole. Can I go back now? he pleaded. Wyatt’s waiting to boost me back up to the roof.

Sylven waved farewell to the pika. There were things he needed to discuss with Veyran in private anyway.

"Tell me," Veyran demanded, "what else has Uiska seen among the humans?"

Sylven narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Veyran didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flickered, calculating.

Finally, he sighed. "Because if they really have that much arclith, it could change everything."

Sylven folded his arms. "For us, or for you?"

Unreadable emotions crossed Veyran’s face. But instead of responding, he exhaled and leaned back against the wood of the cabinet.

"We need to know what the humans plan to do with it. If they even know what they can do with it. The fact that they’re just keeping it hidden in a box is… interesting," he admitted.

Sylven wasn’t sure if he liked the way he said that. Something about it set him on edge.

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Uiska retreated back through the tunnel, his mission complete. He shook the dirt off him like a puppy after a bath as he climbed up Wyatt's arm.

The tunnels lead here, and we can break out there. He sent a mental image of the existing tunnels and the proposed route out of the compound to Sylven through the bond. But it’ll take time. Almost the whole night for me to dig through by myself.

“We can help with that,” Sylven assured him. “But we'll need to figure out how to make it large enough for the kobolds.”

He relayed this to the others. But a new problem arose. The Shy, small and agile, could easily navigate the tunnel Uiska would dig. A tunnel that was small enough not to need shoring up. The kobolds, however, were much larger. Would they have to dig out the rest of the way themselves? Or, with the Shy’s help and magic, could there be a better way to get them out?

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Wyatt carefully cradled Uiksa in the crook of his arm, gently brushing the remaining dirt off the pika’s fur. He peeked around the corners of the buildings, his eyes scanning for any sign of danger. Every second felt heavy with the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. If something went wrong... it would be his fault.

A sharp voice cut through across the yard.

“Boy!”

Wyatt flinched, his heart leaping into his throat. He turned, just as a shadow fell over him. Too late to run. Too late to hide.

“What you doing out here, boy?” his minder snapped, the same woman who had tormented both Jerrik and Sylven.

As soon as Wyatt lowered his arm, Uiska quickly darted into the boy’s pocket. He patted Wyatt’s leg through the cloth with his paw, reassuring him that he was hidden.

“No…nothing Miss Ruth…” Wyatt stammered. “It’s my break time…”

“You know better than to linger around the overseer’s house,” she nagged. “It’s good to see you outside for once, but don’t putter around by yourself like some vagrant. Go have your break with the other lads, like a normal boy.”

“Yes, Miss Ruth,” Wyatt mumbled, scrambling away as quickly as he could, his heart pounding. He ducked behind the corner of the house and waited until she was out of sight.

“That was close, Uiska,” he whispered, relief flooding through him. “Let's get you back up now.”

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Later that evening, the Shy kids exhausted themselves on the latest addition to their playground, a set of monkey bars made of sticks and glue. The adult Shy thought it would be best for the young ones to gain more climbing proficiency. Wyatt sat and observed their antics from his usual spot near the cabinet. He also stole glances at Mara as she deftly wove a harness and ropes from sturdy strands of spider silk.

Sylven walked up to Wyatt, then climbed and stood up on his knee. He began updating and drilling the boy on the revised details of their escape plan. “You’ll need to help Uiska get out and start digging again on the night of the actual escape,” he instructed. “We need to know exactly when he’s in position so we can start making our way down the hole.”

Wyatt nodded silently, unable to meet Sylven's gaze. He hadn't told them about his encounter with Miss Ruth.

Ilkin, who had been meticulously sharpening a splinter into an arrow shaft, sensed Wyatt’s reticence. He paused and caught the boy’s gaze. “Something wrong, Wyatt?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

Wyatt hesitated, his hands clenching into fists. “What if...” he began, his voice trembling. “What if I mess up? What if someone catches me?”

Eryl, ever perceptive, looked up from her spot tending to the younger Shy. “You don't let them,” she firmly stated. Wyatt looked at her, surprised by her conviction.

“You know how to be sneaky,' she continued. “Just be quiet and inconspicuous, like a Shy."

Wyatt swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

Sela leaned closer, her expression serious but encouraging. 'You're doing great, Wyatt,' she reassured him, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

It wasn't some empty reassurance. She meant it. A wave of gratitude washed over Wyatt, easing the knot of anxiety in his chest. He couldn't let them down.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

But now he began to wonder. What would he do, what would happen to him, once the Shy were gone?

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They should have known it wouldn’t be this easy.

The next morning began with a shock. The workshop doors opened to Miss Ruth. She strode in and lingered around their workstations, her eyes like a hawk's, flitting between the Shy and Wyatt. Just when they were starting to get used to her presence, she suddenly grabbed Wyatt by the collar as he walked towards the cabinet. She yanked him back with an iron grip, preventing him from taking a single step.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in here,” she purred, her voice deceptively casual. “Getting a bit too friendly with the vermin, are we?”

Wyatt stiffened. He forced his face to stay blank, his gaze fixed on a point on the wall even as he checked on the Shy from the corners of his vision. 'I'm just doing what I'm told, Miss Ruth,” he replied, keeping his voice steady.

The woman’s grip tightened—just enough to make the fabric press into his throat.

“Hmmm.” She studied his face, her eyes boring into him. Then slowly, her gaze slid to the Shy’s cabinet.

Inside, Sylven held his breath as he hid just behind a corner of the mesh doorframe.

The woman's lips twisted into a cruel smile. 'Funny,' she breathed, her voice laced with malice. She released his collar, only to grip his shoulder, her fingers digging into his flesh. 'You never used to look at them like that before.

Wyatt clenched his jaw. “They work better when they’re happy. That’s what I’ve been told. And I… I know now that it’s true.”

Her laugh was harsh, humorless. “They work better when they know their place,' she hissed, her nails digging deeper.

Sylven could see Wyatt’s shoulders tense, his small frame trembling with suppressed fear. And then, just as suddenly, she let him go.

“Get back to work,” she snarled. Wyatt stumbled back, coughing as he rubbed his bruised throat. He didn't dare look back, but he could feel her eyes burning into him.

Miss Ruth finally turned towards the door, a mocking smile curling across her face. “Maybe it's time I reminded you all how we do things here,” she threatened as she exited.