Moriah sat on a rock in her nest cavern, her musical voice singing an old song of her father’s. Interestingly enough, once she had finally assimilated the ancestral memories, her own personal memories had opened up to her as well. She smiled whimsically as she remembered family. She cherished every memory, those of peace, those of conflict. And of course, she remembered all the music her very musical family had exposed her to.
She liked the song she currently sung as it was full of those memories, but not nearly as much as her peers did. Those worthies lay stretched out on rocks in front of her, many times bigger than at birth. Back then all three fit into the palm of a single of her tiny hands. Now only one could fit, its tail hanging down her wrist. Additionally, armored skin had tiny crystals starting to grow from them, each dimly glowing this or that color. Their eyes glowed brighter than their bodies though, and were in fact the brightest light sources in the cavern. Moriah’s damaged lamp had stopped working a long time ago.
Moriah watched the armored peers with royal pride. She had been vaguely aware due to the ancestral memories that they were destined to retarded growth because she could not, being a different species, provide the kind of physical stimulus necessary for them to mature. But back on that first fiasco of a bath, when she had sung to help suppress the overwhelming deluge of ancestral memories, she found a rather unexpected workaround.
She remembered she had grinned to herself as she began to sing, thinking she would become the renowned singing warrior-knight. Her thoughts had even turned to making a flute or something stringed. It was, after all, the family rule that any instrument they learned to play, they had to learn the basics of how they were made. Before that fateful night, she had in fact been at least adequate in both the piano and piccolo.
Well, she had never actually made those instruments, but she at least knew the basics of what it might take to create one or the other. And knowing those basics she felt confident she could make something at least okay.
And so she had sung being distracted by inane thoughts and the pressures of the newly acquired memories of so many queens. She remembered the infant peers crouching unmoving on the bank of the pool. She was distracted, so she felt at least a little defensive that she had not realized that they had actually frozen from the first note.
She had been new to the whole ‘queen’ thing too, so who could blame her if she failed to properly pay attention to her connection with them. She was better about that kind of stuff now.
So, anyway, the peers had frozen and were thinking weird thoughts about their queen. In particular they thought, This sound that our queen makes is very, ever so very much intriguing. It had in fact utterly mesmerized them. Never in all their memories had their ancestors experienced anything like it. They found it intoxicating. Moriah sang for several moments, lost in her own memories of happier times, oblivious to the peers’ reaction, but then something invaded her awareness and she focused on them, her eyes blinking rapidly what they saw.
A mesh of colorful energy rushed through and over their small bodies, every color of the rainbow, and some never seen in one. Energy built in and around them until it reached a crescendo and they began their first molting, which normally occurred shortly after the first mating. They shed their soft baby skins and grew adolescent armor.
Moriah’s song faded to silence as memories of something similar happening overlapped her sight. It confused her, but it also informed her.
“First molting,” she whispered, eyes widening, her face flushed with pleasure. She had been worried they would never have a first molting because of her inadequacy. She grinned silly at them, overjoyed they would not be stunted midgets their entire lives.
That had been an eternity ago. She sang to them often now and they always responded by glowing in some manner or another, if only their eyes. She thought they became stronger after each session, though they did not go through another molting. She thought too many molts in a short period of time could harm them, though it never occurred to her to hold fewer concerts.
Finishing her current song, she stood. “Okay boys, it’s time to go hunting.” The dead crystal ferrets had kept indefinitely in the cold caverns protected by their carapaces until she opened their armored corpses. However, that source of food had finally been exhausted a few days ago. The original fenguar colony dropped into the old queen’s nest had also been consumed, but Moriah knew of several other colonies she could harvest.
She would rather eat dirt like the boys than have a daily menu of fenguar mold.
As always on her explorations, Moriah took a couple of long cords of ferret silk, which she crisscrossed from shoulder to hip over her tattered and oft resized coveralls. She used shorter lengths to tie her silvery, shoulder length hair out of her face. The cord weighed next to nothing, which amazed and pleased the child. Still, she always carried heavy ore with her as she did everything with the goal of becoming a warrior-knight. “If I carry lots of weight all the time, I will grow stronger!” She talked to herself a lot too.
Moria chose a number of heavy ore chunks and stuck them into her pockets and then she and her three peers headed out to hunt her some food. They were not gone five minutes before she regretted the ore. Ten minutes and she knew it had been a very bad idea. Fifteen minutes and she discarded the ore altogether, wondering what she had been thinking.
That, of course, reminded her what she had been thinking and she recovered the ore, disgruntled, and continued to trudge. “Always the same sequence. Why can’t I just remember from the beginning,” she muttered. The peers’ laughter echoed in her mind and she smirked at them.
Crawling, walking and climbing with the three ferrets for a long time, Moriah had numerous opportunities to use the silk line she carried. Finally they discovered the recent spore from something she could eat. At least, the peers thought she could eat it. “You guys are so encouraging,” Moriah grumbled under her breath, wondering what kind of creature other than crystal ferrets inhabited tunnels so deep underground. There were a few, of course, since she still had the information crammed into her head. She hoped whatever it was would be safe for her to hunt.
They tracked the what-ever-it-was for a long time, winding through passages and several wormholes, turning this way and that. “It knows we’re hunting it,” Moriah murmured, though she really suspected the peers of having fun at her expense. Some of those passages she had wormed through had been ridiculously narrow and she was not nearly as small as when she first came to the caverns.
Moriah peeked from a small tunnel set high in the wall of a much larger passage with glee. This new passage would allow her to stand upright. About to climb out of the small hole, Radar hissed, warning that something dangerous approached. Moriah froze, listening.
The tunnel to the left brightened and Moriah could hear voices, though not words. A fog of emotion rolled down the tunnel. Moriah felt angry, enraged even, yet the rage lay beside a calm curiosity and excitement. Moriah recognized the sensation as similar to when she experienced the emotions of the peers, but not the same exactly - richer, more complex, but also more muted and distant. She could push the foreign anger away and recognize it as something not her own much easier than with the peers, though her hands trembled with adrenaline reaction.
The brightening haloed one end of the larger tunnel. The voices grew in sharpness. And then the brightened tunnel dimmed and the voices faded even quicker. Moriah swallowed and wet her lips. Those had to be miners, which meant she could go back to the mine. All she had to do was catch up to them.
The three peers caught the gist of her thoughts and crooned, nudging Moriah with their snouts. Realization struck her, “Oh dear,” she whispered, “I don’t know what to do. I had not thought about you guys.” She knew beyond any reasonable doubt the crystal ferrets would not be welcome in the camp. “I think . . . .” She sighed. “I think I should hold off. We should abandon the hunt for today. I will just have to eat another helping of fenguar from one of those colonies.” She almost convinced herself to race after the miners after all. “I just wish that foul stuff tasted better with familiarity.”
Moriah’s world went white and pain lanced straight into her mind through her eyes. Instinctively, she covered her eyes with both hands and cried out in agony. The three peers snarled, swarming past their queen to attack the threat, pushing the pain Moriah projected to them into adrenaline anger. The light turned away and fled down the tunnel to the right.
The pain from the bright light receded, and then the large white spots in her eyes faded as well as her queen’s healing kicked in, undoing the damage to her eyes. She called the peers back to her side, scrambling out of the hole to change directions. The four then returned to Moriah’s nest cavern.
The great wooden doors opened after several hours, the spiders having vanished from the sensor grid. As with all spider scares, all miners left the camp under duress, the threat of the guards’ wrath an overshadowing terror. Shaskie had not seen the spiders, but the rumor ran that these latest ones had been strange, more aggressive than normal.
“Don’t worry so much, Shaskie,” Karen soothed, brushing a stray tuft of blond hair from her pale face. Long faced with a full nose and blue eyes, the priestess of the High Lord moved with feminine grace down the tunnel, the kyt padding between her and Restorm. “Crystal spiders don’t normally attack us. They eat ore and rock.”
“Vut they chased. . .” She growled.
Taking mercy on the young kyt, Restorm provided the words for the protest. “But they chased Bubkam? That’s true, but he claims they gave a great cry as if in pain just before they swarmed out of that tunnel. If he startled them or caused them pain, they would have attacked of course.”
“Vut,” Shaskie complained.
“But nothing. I know it’s scary, but if Bubkam can outrun them, you won’t have any trouble. Spiders are not made for speed, seeing that their natural prey moves very slowly.” They all laughed, Shaskie feeling a little less nervous. “However, even if they moved faster, you would have more chance against them than the guards.” The laughter died away, though the mood still retained a lighter flavor than before.
“Greetings, Priestess Karen, Captain Restorm.” Jenjen’s jolly voice filled the tunnel, Corko walking beside his cousin. “And who be the kytosine at thy feet?”
“Greetings to you Jenjen, Corko,” both Restorm and Karen replied, inclining their heads respectfully. Karen continued, “It’s good to see you two gnarlies again. This small one is Shaskie. She came down to the mines about four months ago. You’ve been staying out of the camp longer and longer since Ker passed.”
“Aye. Good earth. Strong earth. This place could support a clan for many generations,” Jenjen replied. “Many tunnels lay beyond maps of guards. Where be your destination?” Jenjen stared a moment longer at Shaskie and then returned his attention to the two humans.
“Just going out, what with the spider sighting and all. Same ole, same ole,” Restorm answered, waving his hand in dismissal.
“Yes. These new spiders, Corko and I sensed.” Jenjen paused and then harrumphed and looked down at Shaskie again. “Perhaps this one could serve us for a time. We would pay a month of quota.”
Shaskie looked back and forth between the two massive dwarves, confused. “What?”
Jenjen hesitated, unsure what the kytosine had said as the pronunciation was a little off, but then puzzled it out. “Ah. Curious flavor these earth eaters have. Earth as their kind flows, but, hmm, also water and wind, snow and tang. Others too. It is a curio. More information we wish to have.” Jenjen displayed a glowing pink crystal about the size of a pinky nail. “To please find the earth eaters for a brief moment, record their essence for investigation.”
Shaskie crouched, her tail lashing from side to side in agitation. She did not want to hunt spiders at all, however, the thought of bringing in crystal for herself appealed to her. A quiet nagging in the back of her mind made her uncomfortable about not personally bringing in crystal ore for herself. Just discovering deposits did not feel right. “How?”
In short order Shaskie found herself at the site where the spiders had been seen. She recognized the tunnel as one she had explored just that morning. Picking up their scent from the tracks in the larger tunnel, she requested Restorm to once again lift her to the hole high in the passage’s wall. As soon as the captain raised her up, human scent assailed her nose to almost overwhelm the spiders’ scent.
Shaskie turned her head and reported the human scent. “Huvan. I slell huvan.” Curious now, she did not wait for a response but moved into the tunnel. The trail split off after a half hour or so, but Shaskie had no trouble distinguishing the older from the fresher.
Entering a large bubble, Shaskie paused. “Please turn off your light.” Shaskie jumped, her heart skipping two beats, not just one, as it suddenly occupied her mouth instead of her chest. She dropped into a crouch, ready to spring in any direction conceivable to escape the threat. The voice spoke again. “Please, the light is to bright and hurts my eyes. I am not used to it.”
“Vuth I won’t ve avle to see,” Shaskie complained even as three ferret like spiders rose from concealment on the other side of the cavern, large eyes shielded by armored eyelids. “The sfiders will get me,” she added, though stumbled over the difficult word “spider.”
“They will behave, I promise,” Moriah assured the light bearer, unable to even look in the direction of directly lit cavern, let alone see who or what carried it.
Shaskie hesitated, but then warned, “I can hear them if they move, so stay over there.”
“Okay,” Moriah agreed. “Please, just turn off the light.”
The kytosine complied, her ears twitching back and forth searching for any sound of approach. “Who are you?”
Moriah did not answer immediately. Once the light vanished, the peers fully opened their eyes and Moriah used her queen-peer link to see who had entered her domain, her own eyes recovering more slowly to the dim crystal glow. “You first.”
Shaskie’s tail lashed back and forth, but she did not want to anger whoever this person was. She had never heard of anyone living with crystal spiders as anything other than crystalized zombie food. She doubted such creatures could talk or reason.
“My nave’s Shaskie. I scraffle to discover ore and crystal.”
“You’re from the slave camp?” Moriah asked, though even as the words passed her lips it occurred to her that if the cat-like creature was a scrambler, she would be from nowhere else.
“It’s just a nine. We’re not slaves. Er, are you frog there too?” Shaskie’s tail stilled, though not her ears.
A pause. “You’re hard to understand, but yes, though it’s been a while I suppose. I didn’t ever think to find it again, to tell the truth. Are you a kytosine?” Moriah asked, voice intense with curiosity. “I’ve only seen pictures, a long, long time ago - back before I came down here.”
“Yes. This language is difficult. Sorry.”
“Can I come closer?”
“Are you a . . .” Shaskie hesitated. She could not tell who had been speaking, the only ones she could see being the three spiders. “A sfider?”
“I call them crystal ferrets. They don’t look like spiders at all. No, I’m human.” Moriah hesitated, but then decided to use the name Klorachamol had given her. “You can call me Ker.”
Shaskie’s ears flattened against her head. Was this human mocking her?
“Why are you angry, Ms. Shaskie?” The flash of anger blazed against Moriah’s nerves making her cringe. “Did I say something wrong?” Moriah could not think of anything, reviewing the short conversation in her head.
“There was a huvan naved Ker. She died.”
“Oh.” Moriah thought hard, then in a slow voice, “Well, I suppose they might think I had died, now that you say that.” With a few exceptions, memories between her family’s annihilation and waking from the fenguar dream lay as faint shadows in her mind.
“She doesn’t talk,” Shaskie said, her tail lashing the ground in agitation.
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“I, I don’t remember saying anything, I don’t think . . . Not a single word?” Moriah’s voice sounded distant, thoughtful, but then changed, becoming crisp. “But things have changed. I don’t intend to die easily anymore.” She paused a moment. “So, can I come closer? I promise I won’t hurt you, as long as you don’t try to hurt me or the boys.”
Shaskie was not sure at all. “Can I turn on vi light?”
“But it hurts me,” Moriah complained. The silence stretched. Something clicked in Moriah’s mind. “Oh dear.”
“What?” Shaskie tensed.
“I want to return to the camp, but it’s going to have bright lights there too. I’ve been used to crystal glow for so long . . . .” Moriah wondered if she could get used to bright lights again. Shaskie’s light really hurt. This made two difficulties with returning - blinding lights and her peers.
“I’l sure, er, you could get used to it,” Shaskie encouraged. “Do you know Jenjen?”
Moriah nodded, realizing with a jolt how much she enjoyed talking with someone who spoke. The peers communicated, but did not speak. The difference blinded her with its significance and her desire to return to the camp upped several notches. “He’s one of the gnarly, I think?”
“Yes. He asked ve to cov here, er, to investigate. Would you cov out, er, travel to visit with Jenjen and Corko and talk?” Shaskie growled her frustration, trying to find words she could pronounce clearly. Her ears twitched at a scrabbling sound. One of the spiders had shifted.
“What does he want?” Moriah thrilled at the thought of talking to a gnarly man. She didn’t think Jenjen would be like Hank, from what she remembered. A vague recollection of power, earth and fire tickled her memory. She also remembered he had not seemed to like her for some reason. This thought sobered her enthusiasm.
“Uh,” Shaskie wondered how she should answer, but she did not think her mission was secret. “Well, I think he sensed those sfiders and was curious.”
[[note - “Ferrets is” in the next paragraph is deliberate]]
“Call them Ferrets,” Moriah said in a pouty voice. “They don’t look like spiders at all. Ferrets is a much better name for them. I thought I told you that already.” More loudly, “Anyway. I really do want to return to the mine.” Moriah thought hard. “Well, maybe Jenjen and, um, Coko? There was another dwarf with, um, Jenjen, I think . Maybe they can help figure out a solution? I don’t think I can bring the boys, but I don’t feel comfortable just leaving them alone either.” The thought of parting from her three friends disturbed her in ways she could not express. “And, as you say, I might be able to get used to bright light again. Um,” another thought came to her, “do you think I could get some food too? All I have left to eat is fenguar spore.” She grimaced, her words clearly conveying what she thought of that food source.
“I would think so. Restorm claims you’re a legend. That you bring crystal and myth ores out of thin air.”
“Oh.” Moriah blushed in the dark. “Should I? Should I bring some with me now?” Moriah wondered how she could carry it. “I still have a few pockets intact, I suppose. Just a moment.” She rose, her shadowy silhouette revealing her location on the other side of the cavern for the first time, only a few feet from the three crystal ferrets. She took a few steps to the right and vanished. The three ferrets remained watchful of the intruder.
Shaskie’s nerves neared the end of endurance before Moriah returned. Appearing in the dim crystal glow, Moriah nearly gave the young kyt a death stroke. “Shaskie, you still have not said whether I can come closer?” Her voice rose in inquiry.
Gasping for breath and composure, Shaskie answered, “I . . . Yes, it’s okay, I think. The sfide, I mean, ferrets, they will not attack?”
“I already told them not to. They won’t disobey me.” Moriah moved easily over the jagged cavern floor in the dim light, the glowing ferrets flowing at her heels. “I’m ready to go.”
“Then follow ve,” Shaskie replied, backing away from the approaching ferrets. “I have to turn on the light. I will turn down the tunnel first.” She spun around and took a few steps into the passage before turning the light on, the rock walls flashing bright even to her eyes for a moment. Almost coming to where the confining tunnel emptied into the larger one, Shaskie paused without turning her head. “I should give them warning. Crystal ferrets and everything, you know.”
Moriah nodded, her head almost touching the low ceiling while her elbows supported her upper body as she crawled through the small tunnel. “I will wait. I recognize this tunnel and we’re almost to a larger passage I was hunting in earlier. I think,” she hesitated, but then continued, “if they could at least dim their lights, it would be appreciated.”
“I’ll ask.” Shaskie continued on, coming to the opening into the larger passage several minutes later. She sprang to the ground, landing at Corko’s feet.
“Return you have,” Corko declared, squatting. “Is it that you did find the earth eaters so quickly?”
Shaskie mewed and then said, “Yes, vut . . . vut I found another also.” Shaskie walked over to Restorm. “Captain, you told ve the story of Ker. There is one who declares herself Ker living with the ferrets.”
“What?” Restorm said. “I told you Ker died.”
“I told her that too. She disagreed.” Shaskie sat looking up at the tall human. “She’s waiting a short distance down the tunnel, vut she’s sensitive to light and. . . .” Now the kytosine stopped altogether. How could she explain the ferrets?
“What are ferrets to which you refer?” Jenjen asked into the pause.
“Ker calls ferrets. Crystal ferrets, not that other thing.” Shaskie decided to avoid difficult words like “spider.”
“Crystal ferrets? Oh, do you mean spiders?” Karen asked and Shaskie nodded. “Hmm, they do look more like ferrets than spiders, don’t they,” Karen agreed, shuddering. “So, you said this person is living with these ferrets? Are they coming too?”
“Yes, thank you Karen. It is so strange and hard to force the words out.” Shaskie felt vast relief at not having to say it herself.
“It is said, none may tame the earth eaters,” Corko said.
“She told the ferrets not to attack and they didn’t. You should talk to her. She says she wants to return to the vine, er, calf.” Shaskie hung her head and muttered, “I hate Elerate.”
“She wants to return to the mining camp, and Emerite is not that hard. You do well for not being able to form bilabials,” Restorm said. “But she’s been dead for years now. Even assuming she survived the fenguar and the cave in, how has she survived till now? And why did she wait this long to come back?”
“Could not find it,” Shaskie said. “She said she eats fenguar.”
“Bad taste, but nourishing,” Corko commented. “Talking to the one who claims to be Ker, answers to our questions will be discovered more easily.” He smiled down at Shaskie.
“Thank you, Corko.” Shaskie inclined her head. “She requested low lights. She is used to crystal glow.”
“This will be done,” Jenjen said. “I shall retain my light at such a level, the rest shall extinguish theirs.” The tunnel plunged into darkness as everyone responded and their eyes adjusted to the dim light from Jenjen’s shoulder lamps. Restorm lifted Shaskie back to the hole and the kytosine headed into the darkness, keeping her own lamp as dim as she could and still travel safely.
Several minutes later, Shaskie’s dim head lamp appeared in the hole’s entrance, the silvery reflection in her eyes gleaming bright under it. “We are here,” she announced, springing out of the entrance to clear the way. The glow from Radar’s body lit the entrance as he took her place.
Radar did not know if he liked this situation. He understood that his queen intended to go with these strange creatures, but he did not trust them. The other two peers echoed his thoughts, but Moriah firmly commanded them to behave. Snapping his jaws in frustration, he clambered down the side of the tunnel and moved so he stood between the wide creatures and his queen.
At the first appearance of the crystal ferret the four adults stiffened, the humans readying their lesion knives and the dwarves their modified pickaxes. Intent upon watching the ferret, Karen missed Moriah’s appearance, only noticing the event as the girl inched her upper body out of the hole, planting her hands below her and flipping to the ground. As soon as she cleared the tunnel, Jonal and Xian swarmed down the wall to stand to either side of their queen.
Neither the captain nor the two dwarves missed Moriah’s first appearance as her silver hair caught Jenjen’s light like a flare, nor the second and third earth eaters. Jenjen frowned, disturbed by both the human and her companions.
Moriah’s hair had grown almost to her shoulders, but this girl was definitely the Ker. He could not be mistaken, though her immature body had grown somewhat taller and she moved more gracefully than the child of yore. Her coveralls were torn to shreds, the seams ripped out to accommodate growth of body. But the seeming allegiance of the earth eaters disturbed him as much as the reappearance of the black one’s hope.
“It is Ker,” Corko said, recognizing the human as easily as his cousin.
Moriah hesitated for a moment, scared now that she faced the gnarly men. The two humans also surprised her. She could not place who they were, but thought she might should. “Uh, hello?”
Karen gasped and took a step forward, but stopped when Radar hissed at her. “Ker, you can speak.”
Moriah nodded. “I could speak before. There,” she paused, taking a full breath. “There just wasn’t a reason to, is all.”
“How is it that the earth eaters guard you?” Jenjen asked, his pickaxe still at the ready, his voice low and challenging.
Moriah swallowed, the dwarf’s hostility grating her nerves. The three peers hissed as one and Moriah hunched her shoulders under the intense emotions being projected. “Why are you upset? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Restorm touched Jenjen’s shoulder. “Ease, Jenjen. You’re projecting a little too strongly.” Addressing Moriah from over the dwarf’s head, “Ker, you have changed much since last we saw one another. Do you remember me?”
Moriah hesitated for a moment, trying to recall. A shadowy scene cleared just a little. “You were there with that bad gnome, and some others? You made that one go first into the tunnel. I, I don’t remember your name.”
Restorm smiled at her. The emotions he sensed were confused, but one thing he knew for certain - a distinct element of the emotions the three ferrets projected exactly matched that of the girl’s. “My name is Restorm. This lady is Priestess Karen.”
“I’m not a priestess,” Karen objected.
“Let’s not argue,” Restorm waved aside the old debate. Karen denied the title, but performed all the functions thereof, so everyone thought of her as the Priestess. “Do you remember the names of the dwarves?”
“I do. Corko and Jenjen, but I don’t remember which is which. I’m sorry.” She looked away and in a quieter voice, “I did not want to learn people’s names then.”
“I am Corko.”
“I am Jenjen.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” Moriah answered, bowing in formal greeting. The dwarves and humans all bowed in return.
“So, how is it that you’re alive when all thought you dead, and are now accompanied by such interesting friends,” Restorm asked, voice and manner easier than Jenjen’s
Moriah swallowed, still aware of the larger dwarf’s hostility. Still, it never crossed her mind to withhold the information, nor try deception. “It’s kind of complicated, but they consider me their queen. Anyway, that’s the feeling I get when I try to think about it.” She squatted between Jonal and Xian, placing one hand on each. “I killed their mother and the baby queen these guys would have served. They accepted me as a replacement.”
Silence fell for a short time as this information absorbed. Finally Karen spoke. “So, Shaskie says you want to return to the mining camp.”
Moriah cocked her head at the abrupt change in topic. “I would, except I don’t know what to do with these guys. I’m responsible for them. Plus, bright light hurts me now.”
“Adjust to light you will after a short time,” Jenjen said, his manner easing. “The earth eaters will not be welcomed inside the camp.”
“But you will still have to mine,” Karen added. “In fact, you could easily spend most of your time away from the camp.”
“I would suggest it,” Restorm added his affirmation. “The less time spent near the guards, the better it will be for you. They fear the spiders more than anything else.”
“They aren’t spiders,” Moriah said. “That’s just the wrong image. They look like ferrets, so I renamed them crystal ferrets.”
Restorm chuckled. “Shaskie mentioned that, but it is hard to overcome historical precedents. Very well, but whether they‘re called crystal spiders or crystal ferrets, the guards won’t like that you associate with them. I would avoid talking to the guards at all, in fact.”
“How would I do that?” Moriah had a hard time picturing herself refusing to talk to someone who talked to her. That was rude.
“Child, you’ve already set the precedent,” Karen laughed, the others with her, even Jenjen smiled, his hostility notching down a little more. “Do you remember how you acted before?”
Moriah remembered. She raised her hands to her mouth in distress, blushing so hot she felt lightheaded. “I was rude. I’m sorry!” She bowed deep in contrition. The adults laughed harder, Jenjen bellowing one of his ho ho ho’s that echoed down the tunnels.
“Don’t worry about being rude,” Restorm said, recovering first, wiping tears from his eyes. “I would suggest that you treat everyone just like you did before. It will be your greatest protection.”
“She should talk with Klorachamol and Jenna,” Karen said, crossing her arms and daring anyone to argue. “Both of those have missed you greatly, young Ker.” Karen smiled at the child. Moriah’s eyes widened in surprise and she smiled a shy smile. “However, aside from those two and us here, you should not even acknowledge anyone else. If they think you still don’t speak, the topic of the crystal sp, ferrets won’t ever come up. However, if you speak to anyone else, it will get back to the guards.”
Moriah’s head spun with the talk of subterfuge. She could understand the argument, but it seemed dishonest somehow.
Sensing her confusion, Restorm sighed. “Ker, it is what they expect from you now.” He waved his hand at Radar, “Because of your relationship with these ferrets, it would be dangerous for them if people started asking questions. You not only have to choose the battles you want to fight, but how you will fight them. This is one way of fighting this particular battle, and the one most likely to have the least number of casualties - that is, if the guards don’t know about your friends, they won’t kill them.”
This made sense to Moriah and she nodded. Of course each battle would have many ways of fighting them, each with its own set of consequences. “Okay. I think I can do it.” She hesitated, touching a bulging pocket, not certain of what to do next. “I brought some crystal and raw ore with me. Do you think I should turn it in now and then leave again? I would like to get some food because I’ve been eating fenguar for days now.” Moriah’s voice once again conveyed her utter disgust.
“To turn something in now, it is good, but big reaction there will be,” Corko said. “It may be that guards try to question, even knowing silence will answer.” Everyone fell silent.
“I just have to ignore them, right?” Moriah broke the silence. “I can try. I don’t want them hurting my peers.” Moriah stood, addressing Radar, Jonal and Xian through her link. Go back to the nest and wait for me. If you want, you can hunt some of the rich ores for me. I have a use for it now. No, silly, I’m not going to eat it. Go. The three peers hesitated, but then swarmed up the side of the tunnel and vanished from sight in obedience.
Jenjen and Corko watched the deadly creatures vanish and then turned in unison to look at Moriah with duplicate, inscrutable expressions. Jenjen said, “Practice you will. Look forward and do not answer any questions. Allow nothing to startle you.”
Moriah stared at the dwarf and then slumped forward, saying, “How in the world do I do that?”
“This you have done already,” Corko said, encourage her with a smile.
Moriah shook her head slow and deliberate, crossing her arms and compressing her lips before she spoke. “But I . . . I did not care about anything then. I.” She hesitated, tears almost escaping. “I did not see anything or anybody then. Not really. Even now, I just re, remember shadows and wavery images. But I don’t want to die anymore. It’s okay that I live. I,” she choked, “I am okay with living.” Her eyes flashed, “I will honor my family.” She glared a challenge at the dwarf.
“It is good to honor the Clan,” Jenjen said. Something significant had happened to the human child and he felt curious, his hostility all but vanishing. He considered and then spoke gnarly to his cousin, searching for a different way to protect Moriah. Corko shrugged, replying also in gnarly. Jenjen turned back to Moriah, “Ker, we know not another way, but another may. Ask the death master and the Jenna. In conference of these six,” he indicated his cousin, the captain and Karen, “an answer will come. Return to your friends you shall for three days.” The dwarf took a deliberate breath. “It is that you have no light?”
Moriah shook her head.
“Take mine you shall. Brighten by degrees for the time of waiting. Take also this,” he handed a small comm unit, explaining how to turn it on and use the time function. “A data object - computer you may consider it. Return to this place in three days, when timer becomes zero.”
“But.” Moriah threw her hands into the air, “Oh shoot. Does that mean I have to eat Fenguar for three more days? I don’t wanna.” Her shoulders slumped again and she looked down at the ground.
“Take these,” Corko handed her several of the mine ration blocks.
Moriah accepted the rations with trembling hands, a tear streaking her dirty face. Suddenly she threw her arms as far around the rotund man as she could and kissed his bearded cheek. “Thank you so much!” She withdrew, hugging the precious rations to her chest. Corko hemmed and hawed, embarrassed and Jenjen let out a belly laugh at his cousin’s discomfort.
Recovering from his amusement, Jenjen cleared his throat. “Leave now, before others come.”
Moriah looked around, down the different passages and shrugged. “No one’s coming, I don’t think, but okay. Three days.” She sprang easily up to the tunnel and clambered into the narrow hole, worming her way out of sight in a moment.
Several moments passed after the noise from the hole silenced. Jenjen took a deep breath and turned to Shaskie. “You found the Ker. Share details of this occasion.” Shaskie obeyed, explaining the large cavern where the three crystal ferrets (she agreed that the new name fit them better, plus she could actually say the word so used it without thinking) had been waiting with Ker, what had been said and the short disappearance just before they had left to meet the dwarves. Once she finished, they all returned to the camp in silence, each keeping their thoughts to themselves.
The dwarves waited in their small cave for Klorachamol and Jenna for a full day. Klorachamol noted the dwarves before entering the cave, but Jenna gasped upon clearing the entrance.
“Where have you dirt grubbers been?” she demanded, looking down at them with imperious hauteur.
“Exploring. Meet elsewhere we shall,” Corko said without preamble, both dwarves rising to stand in unison. “A matter of interest we wish to discuss.” Turning away still in unison, the two left the cavern. Klorachamol and Jenna exchanged glances and Jenna grinned as they followed. Going deep into the caves, well outside the network of wired sensors the guards used, they rounded a corner to find Restorm, Karen and Shaskie waiting.
“Alright. Spill,” Jenna pounced on Jenjen from behind, glaring at everyone, her curiosity having far outstripped her patience early in the trek. Maintaining her grip on his neck, she lowered her voice and growled, “Be quick or someone gets hurt.”
Corko and Jenjen laughed at her. “Jenna has not the patience of the earth,” Corko chortled.
“I’m not gnarly, dirt breath. I am, however, part fae and I will hurt you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, immediately.” Her eyes brightened with their own internal light.
“Aye,” Jenjen’s smile vanished, from mouth and eyes in an instant. “A serious matter has arisen. The Ker still lives.”
Klorachamol stiffened, his own smile at his mate’s lack of patience vanishing with the same abruptness as Jenjen’s. He waited, his narrowed eyes never wavering from the dwarves.
“What?” Jenna stared stupidly, flummoxed. She let go of Jenjen and sagged back onto her heels, already on her knees to throttle the dwarf.
“Hm, from the beginning is best,” Corko said. “It is that the crystal spiders have made another appearance. This you know?”
“Yes, but what does . . . .” Jenna stopped at Restrom’s upraised hand.
“Let Corko set the stage, dear Jenna,” Restrom said.
“It is that I and Jenjen sensed these earth eaters. A unique flavor of earth and other did make us two intrigued. Thus, requested this kytosine, Shaskie, to investigate.” Corko then explained about their meeting with Moriah.
“The Ker it is, without doubt,” Jenjen added at Klorachamol’s expression. “Meet again in two days we shall. Your own judgment you may render at that time.” Everyone fell silent for a time.
Jenna leaned against Klorachamol, feeling his tenseness. She said, “Well, if it is indeed Ker, then she definitely needs to come back to the camp. No child should live by herself. There is no way the f - ferrets will be permitted into the camp, but if they stay clear the other problem is easily fixed.” Klorachamol turned his head to look at her. “Hypnotism. She already knows how to ignore anything and everything better than anyone I know, and either of us can do it fairly easily since that pattern is already set in her mind. It won’t be too difficult to open the pathways, and if she practices, she should be able to establish the proper mind set on her own.”
“If it is Ker,” Klorachamol growled.
“If the dwarves, Captain and Priestess attest to it, I see no reason not to at least give it a chance.” She squeezed his arm.
“I will wait until I see this person.”
“Good,” Jenna grinned at him and nuzzled his cheek. “We will wait and what will be, will be.”