“Ho, who goes there,” boomed the first voice, who’d insisted he’d heard Seraiah’s scream.

She shaded her eyes against the sudden light. It was impossible to make out the person who had spoken behind the bright glow.

“I’m Seraiah,” she said, hoping he might be one of the friendly people Kestrel had said would be willing to help her. “I accidentally fell through the hole and into the lake. Can you help me get out again?”

The lantern lowered, revealing a short man—his head couldn’t have been higher than her hip—with a long salt and pepper beard that reached almost to his knees. He turned to his companion, who had stayed behind him. “See! What did I tell you? It wasn’t an animal.”

“Then what is it?” the other one asked. He hadn’t stepped forward enough for Seraiah to get a good look at him.

The first one turned back to her, walking closer to where she was still crouched by the edge of the lake.

“Looks like a girl,” he announced, holding the lantern up and blinding her further.

“What sort of girl?” the other asked.

“What sort of girl are you?” the first one asked her, peering at her face.

“Human,” she answered reluctantly.

“Did you hear that, Therill? The girl says she is a human.” His voice echoed off the walls.

“Keep it down, Lonan. Do you want to bring the beetles down on us?” Therill hissed.

Seraiah was afraid to ask about the beetles. “Who might you be?” she asked instead.

“We’re gnomes from Metrius,” the one nearest her declared proudly. “I am Lonan, and my companion is Therill.”

Gnomes? Seraiah racked her brain, trying to recall what she knew about them. The only thing she could come up with was that they were distantly related to faeries, but then again, so were the elves.

Therill stepped out of the shadows to inspect her, giving Seraiah her first look at him. He was the same height as Lonan and also had a long beard, only his was a reddish brown. If she had to guess, she would say he was the younger of the two, even though he appeared to be the one in charge.

“Human, you say?” Therill scoffed. “We never get any humans down here. How did you get here?”

It seemed they hadn’t been listening when she’d first introduced herself.

Seraiah pointed to the hole above their heads. “I fell in.”

“I know that,” Therill said peevishly. “I mean, how do you come to be in this world?”

She didn’t want to tell them anything about the elves or the faeries until she knew they could be trusted. “It’s um . . . kind of a long story,” she said, hoping they wouldn’t press her for more.

“Save it for the clan leaders, then. For now, come with us.” Therill motioned for Lonan, who held the lantern, to lead the way.

Seraiah didn’t move. After her dealings with the other leaders in this world, she wasn’t eager to meet any more of them.

“What are you waiting for? Care to greet the cave beetles?” Therill asked.

The mention of beetles had Seraiah reconsidering. Perhaps she’d been mistaken, and she did want to meet their leaders, after all. They couldn’t possibly be worse than whatever these cave beetles were.

She stuffed her wet belongings back into her bag and followed Lonan. Therill brought up the rear.

“What’re we going to do with her?” Lonan asked, as if Seraiah weren’t right behind him.

“That will be for the clan leaders to decide,” Therill answered.

“But we found her.”

“Makes no difference. They will decide what’s to be done. Now, please be quiet. I don’t want to deal with the beetles today. If you heard her scream, then undoubtedly, they did too and will already be on their way. I don’t care to be here when they arrive.”

Seraiah silently agreed with Therill. She had a feeling these beetles would be nothing like the ones she was familiar with.

Lonan remained quiet after that, leading them through several dark tunnels running deep within the mountain Seraiah had previously been climbing. The further they went, the smaller the tunnel grew. The ceiling became low enough that it was no longer possible for her to stand up straight. Therill and Lonan had no such problems with their shorter height.

Eventually, they made it out of the tunnel system and into a large cavern. Seraiah’s eyes widened at the sight before her.

“This is Metrius,” Lonan said, sweeping his hand at the city that lay before them.

Homes carved from the same rock as the walls filled the cavern. There was even a castle.

“Lonan,” Therill said, coming up behind them, “please alert the leaders of our guest. I will take the girl to get some food and dry clothing. Find us when they’re ready.”

Lonan hurried off toward the castle to carry out his mission while Therill led her down a side street to one of the small houses.

She eyed it uncertainly, hoping he wasn’t expecting her to go inside. The front door was about shoulder height. If she hunched like in the tunnels, she could make it work, but it would be uncomfortable.

“You can wait out here,” Therill told her. “I’ll be out in a moment. Don’t go wandering off.”

Seraiah settled herself in Therill’s front yard, wondering if gnome food worked the same way faery food did. She didn’t want to be trapped here, but how did you politely ask something like that? The food in her bag was still good, so maybe she could—

“You what?” a squawk came from inside the house. It sounded female. Moments later, Therill was back, followed by a female gnome. She wore a blue apron dusted with flour over a deep brown dress.

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“See, I told you,” Therill said to her. “She says her name is Seraiah.”

The gnome pushed her dark hair out of her face and eyed Seraiah.

“This is my wife, Pibble,” Therill said.

Seraiah attempted a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You should come inside,” Pibble said. She turned to Therill. “The neighbors are going to have questions.”

Therill rolled his eyes. “Let them talk. They’ll find out soon enough, anyway.”

“I’m fine right here,” Seraiah said before they could bicker anymore. “Besides, I’m still wet from falling in the lake. I wouldn’t want to dirty your home.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Do you not have anything else you might wear?”

Seraiah shook her head. “My spare clothes got wet too.”

“If you give them to me, I can dry them by the fire for you,” Pibble offered. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anything that might fit you here, but perhaps at the castle. . .” She looked at Therill again.

“I already sent Lonan off,” he said.

“You should have gone there straight away.”

Seraiah quickly dug her spare clothes out of her bag and handed them over, stopping their argument.

“I can take your boots as well,” Pibble said, eyeing Seraiah’s feet.

Seraiah wasn’t sure she wanted to give up her only pair of boots, but her feet were uncomfortable, and it wasn’t like she had anywhere to run.

She slipped them off and handed them over.

“Therill, bring the girl some stew and a bit of the fresh bread,” Pibble said, over her shoulder to her husband as she disappeared back inside the house.

Therill immediately jumped to do his wife’s bidding, and Seraiah decided she liked Pibble.

Therill emerged from his home a few moments later with a steaming bowl and a large hunk of bread in his hands, both of which he passed to her before settling in to watch her eat.

“Thank you,” Seraiah said. “This isn’t umm . . . it’s not going to—”

“We are not the fae,” Therill said. “It is safe.”

Seraiah was glad because the stew smelled delicious. She ate slowly, uncomfortably aware of Therill staring at every bite she put in her mouth.

“What kind of stew is this?” she asked, using the bread to soak up the last bit in the bowl.

“Mushroom,” he answered.

“Just mushroom?”

He nodded. “We make use of what will grow here. With little to no light, it is primarily mushrooms.”

Seraiah would have sworn there were pieces of meat in the stew. She had never had a mushroom with such a meat-like texture before.

Therill took the empty bowl back from her and returned to his house. He disappeared for long enough that she wondered if he was coming back.

Then Lonan came running up the street.

“Hello, Seraiah,” he greeted her breathlessly with a little bow, making his beard touch the ground. Then he too, disappeared into the house.

Not long after, all three gnomes reappeared.

“The clan leaders are gathering to hear your story and decide what to do with you,” Therill informed her.

“I told them all about you. They are very interested in meeting you,” Lonan said happily, stroking the end of his beard.

It was the interest that worried her.

Pibble stepped forward and held out Seraiah’s boots and spare clothes. She wasn’t about to change in the middle of the street, so she tucked the clothes away and pulled on her boots. She’d have to settle for being soggy for a little longer.

“Thank you again for the food. It was delicious,” Seraiah said, climbing to her feet and picking up her bag.

“Of course, dear. Do come back and see me again after the gathering if you can.” Pibble waved from her front yard as Therill and Lonan herded Seraiah toward the castle and whatever awaited her at the gathering of the gnome leaders.

----------------------------------------

Sterling spent most of her days alternating between eating and sleeping. She felt so weak after everything that had happened, but day by day as her food went from thin broths to full meals, her strength returned.

One day soon, she might be able to escape this place, but first she needed a plan, and plans required information.

“Do you think I’ll be able to leave the room today?” Sterling asked the woman who brought her breakfast. Even though she’d asked many times, the woman still hadn’t told her a name. The only person’s name she knew so far was Ren, but thankfully, he hadn’t been around.

“Not today. Things are busy. It’s better if you stay put.”

“What’s happening?” Sterling asked, poking at the boiled egg. She’d never cared for eggs before, but it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice here.

“We will have a visitor,” the woman said, gathering Sterling’s dirty linens.

“Oh? Someone important?”

She didn’t expect an answer and was unsurprised when the woman said, “It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

Sterling kept one eye on the woman as she bustled around the room and then left with the laundry.

It was always this way. No one wanted to answer her questions. What Sterling had been able to figure out had been on her own.

From what she could tell, she was underground somewhere. It wasn’t nearly as cold and damp as the prison cell, but it still felt very cave like.

This might have been in part due to the lighting. Besides a candle, and the occasional oil lantern her visitors forgot to take with them, the only light in the room came from a small hole far above her. If Sterling squinted, she imagined she could make out a blue speckle of sky.

Today would be different though, she decided. Today was the day she would leave this room.

Sterling wolfed down her breakfast and set the tray aside. She’d already changed from her sleeping shift into a simple dress. They never left her any shoes to wear and the ones she’d arrived in had disappeared along with her original clothes. She could only guess that they thought if she was barefoot, she wouldn’t be able to run away. The other women who brought stuff to her room always wore heavy soled shoes which meant there must be sharp rocks around.

Here inside her room, the floor was made of smooth gray stone. Sterling crept across it now and pressed an ear to the wooden door. She’d noticed in all their comings and goings that no one seemed to use the lock. Once she was caught sneaking out, however, that would likely change. She would have to make the most of this adventure because it might very well be her last.

It was quiet on the other side of the door, so Sterling reached for the latch, careful not to open it all the way and squeak the hinges.

She found a hallway on the other side. Torches burned in brackets along the wall, lighting up the other doors. As far as she could tell there were no people around.

Sterling slipped out, shutting her door softly behind her. Then she went left.

The floor beneath her feet sloped gently downward. She stopped every couple of steps to listen, but only once did she hear a voice. It sounded like they came from somewhere behind her.

When she paused in one doorway to listen, she considered trying to see what was inside the room behind her. Were they rooms like her own, or would she find something new?

Curiosity got the better of her, but to her disappointment the knob refused to turn. Locked or stuck shut from disuse, she couldn’t tell.

Sterling hurried on.

When the hallway intersected another one, she turned left again.

This one was wider, but more sparsely lit. It seemed to stretch on forever before her. Sterling did not have the energy for forever. She was already tired from her short walk.

But this may be my only chance, she reminded herself. I have to keep going.

She pushed on. The first room she came to was on her right. There was no door blocking her view this time. An arched doorway led to a grouping of wooden tables.

Sterling peered through the gloom. Empty glass bottles littered the surfaces along with various tools like mortars and pestles. Some kind of workroom, she concluded. A bundle of dried flowers resting on the corner of one bench caught her eye. Perhaps no one would notice if she snuck them back to her room.

She checked for anyone coming and then scurried up to the bench, carefully plucking a sprig from the top of the pile. The little flowers reminded her of daisies, but a quick sniff told her these were chamomile blossoms.

Sterling turned to leave the room with her prize and ran smack into someone.

“Stealing flowers, are we?” Ren asked, arching one brow. “You could have asked someone if you fancied a cup of tea.”

Sterling stared at him, not saying anything. If he wanted to believe she was stealing flowers for tea, she was more than happy to let him.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to your room. You’re lucky I was the one who found you wandering.”

“Why?” she asked. There was no point in trying to get away from him. She didn’t have the energy nor the footwear to escape.

“Because I won’t tell anyone you’ve been wandering,” he said.

The walk back to her room was much faster than the journey away. Sterling realized she hadn’t gotten far at all.

“Will you at least tell me where I am or why I’m here?” she asked.

For a moment, Sterling thought he might give her an answer—a real answer. But then he said, “Maybe next time, Silver. I’ve got places to be.”

He patted her on the head like a puppy and left her alone in her room.

When Sterling tried the door again, it was locked.