"Again! Again! Again!"

The islanders continue their chanting for nearly 10 earsplitting minutes, kicking up a small tornado of dust as they spin, until I reach my limit and whistle the most screeching whistle I can muster. The islanders immediately stop and begin to hiss in pain, until the tall one's eyes widen and they walk over to me. I match their gaze and realize they're much more imposing up close; at a distance, they seemed about 6 to 7 feet tall, but now I realize they're nearly twelve feet, with the rest of the islanders closer to 10, and thin yet muscular arms to match. They bend down and get close to my face with a stare of childlike wonder.

"That did not feel good... but how did you do it?"

"Uhhh... whistling?"

"'Whistling?' Very nice! Can you show us?"

"Show us! Show us!" the rest of the crowd begins to chant, and before another whirlwind begins, I concede.

"Fine! I'll show all of you, just please no more running or shouting, for the love of god!"

The islanders look at each other for a moment, a murmur in their native language flowing among them. Once the chittering settles, the giant one, now clear to me the leader, clasps their hands and nods.

"Deal. I am Ato, the leader of Vetin. Who are you?"

"Ozzy. The other chaps over in the corner are my associates."

Connor and Gene raise their hands to wave while the Cardinal clutches his collar for dear life and the two troopers turn pale. Ato smiles and waves for them to walk over. Feeling much less threatened now than with the first Island's inhabitants, Gene and Connor walk over without fear, followed by the far less steely Cardinal and soldiers. Once we're all gathered, Ato shuffles over to the hole they first erupted from and waves for us to follow. Gene distrustfully raises his eyebrow.

"What exactly will we find down there?"

"Fun!" screams Ato as they leap down the hole. The other islanders follow Ato's lead and leap down the other holes that dot the gray, cracked landscape. The Cardinal's face scrunches with disgust.

"Are we really going to heed the word of these... things?!" he bellows. "Look at them! They're horrifying! Creations of the Devil, just like those other beasts you spoke of!"

"You mean the tribe with a highly advanced forest village?" disputes Gene. "I'll admit, these beings have an... acquired taste, but given their very, very sharp claws and impressive speed, I see no reason why they'd wait to kill us if that was their goal."

I'm actually impressed. For a man whose seemingly main purpose on this trip is being the King's lap dog, he's making excellent points.

"I concur. Besides, if they do try to strike, we'll just have the eagle-eye in the back to shoot the walls and distract them again," I say with my eyes fixed on the shooter from earlier, now cowering like a schoolboy who forgot his homework. I groan, realizing just how lenient military academy must have become, and walk over to the hole. I look down, unable to see the bottom, but hear the faint sounds of celebration below.

"Well, I've certainly done weirder for a job. Hell, this doesn't even crack the top 5... okay, maybe exactly 5, but this couldn't possibly be stranger than the goat fiasco..."

"Oh, get on with it!" bellows Gene, who walks over and tries to push me down the entrance. What he does not expect, however, is me already beginning my descent without his help, causing his force to send him tumbling down with me. Actually, it's less a tumble, and more of a gentle yet rapid descent of twists and turns, like a carved slide. After a few seconds of adrenaline-ridden travelling, we reach the end of the tunnel and land on a cushioned pad of fur. I look up, trying to decipher my surroundings, until I realize Gene's back is crushing my neck while his arm obscures my vision.

"Get up," I plead breathlessly. "If I die, who is going to make sure the King doesn't fuck up this mission any more than he already has?"

"Alright, I'm getting up!" he replies. Once I feel his vertebrae unleash my trachea, I stand up and stretch a bit, then slide out of the way as I hear the descent of the rest of our group. The soldiers land first, then Connor, then the Cardinal, who somehow flies straight across the pad and lands in a pile of what I hope is NOT mud a few feet away. When he realizes his landing, he lightning bolts out of the pile and begins wiping himself as fast as possible.

"Filthy little-"

"Apologies. I thought I moved the fuel out of the way," says Ato, standing in a hallway near the entrance. The Cardinal freezes and simply nods.

"Th-that's quite alright... Sir?"

"Eh, I do not particularly care about 'sir' or 'ma'am'. Most people here don't. I am simply 'Ato', however I prefer a lack of 'sir' when people talk to me."

The Cardinal nearly faints at this, religious fury building in his vapid brain, but Connor contains him by entering his 'poker-face mode'.

"Of course, Ato, we understand perfectly. What a lovely system you have designed; how did you make these tunnels, or that luscious padding?"

"It was simple! We dug the tunnels with our claws, and simply use dead leaves from our gardens and fur clippings from our pack animals for the landing pads!"

"Amazing! And what do these pack animals transport?" inquires Connor. "You mentioned this 'fuel' in the corner? What does it power?"

Ato's face brightens when Connor asks about the fuel, and they begin jumping and yipping.

"Come see! It is very exciting!"

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Ato grabs Connor's arm and begins pulling him through the tunnels. Gene, the soldiers, the Cardinal, and I follow as fast as possible through a shifting pattern of midnight black halls and pathways bathed in a blue-purple glow until we reach the core. Just as the island itself is divided into rocky levels, so too is the physical civilization of these beings; carved into the cavernous insides of the land are winding staircases reaching to plateaus lined with shops, housing, mines, and tracks for transport of wares by cart and creatures that look like a mix between a bull and a millipede, with the Vetinite drivers racing each other to the next cavern and children joyously swinging from rock to rock. Our amazement coats our faces, which makes Ato even happier.

"You like it! They said you would like it!"

"They? The adventurers of old visited here too?"

"Oh, yes, we tell the children the story all the time of how the men came and shared their stories and supplies, and we shared ours. It is said the adventurers' descendants will come and show us a way to tend our lands without constantly moving the earth."

"Yes, we were wondering about that," I say. "I thought your people did it for sport."

"Well, it is fun, and can be invigorating work, but we do it to ensure our plants get enough light."

"What keeps you from moving them above ground?" asks Gene.

"The soil. Above is too dry, and when the rains come, they wash away crops too easily, so we keep them here, where the soil is moist and rich so they can grow strong!"

Ato motions to another hallway where vines fill the walls, and the Vetinites use their claws to harvest various fruits and seeds.

"We move the mountains as the sun shifts, and we use motors carved from stone to help move the mountains, and we use the fuel from our Gavari's wastes to power the motors!"

"Oh, Lord, it was that..." mutters the Cardinal.

"Again, very sorry about that," says Ato in an apologetic voice. "But do you want to see the motors? It's very exciting; the rock we use springs out of the ground just like the plants! We almost have too much!"

"Er, I suppose so," says Connor, trying to feign interest. Despite a heavy need for fuel in the kingdom, he's far less intrigued by this island than he was by the Ralacharians. Then we reach the motor beneath one of the mountains, and his interest suddenly returns. As we enter the grandly adorned room, multiple tracks flow into the massive, advanced contraption, where the Gavari unload their carts full of excrement, and a fiery hearth in the middle burns it down, churns it further into the mechanism, and makes the smooth, shiny wheel at the base slowly turn. We begin to hear the creaking of the mountains above, albeit much slower now than earlier.

"Why were you pushing them so fast when we arrived?" I inquire.

"Too many clouds. The sun was very confusing earlier today."

"Yes, yes, very sad, but what is that metal you said you had too much of?" chimes Connor, his interest now growing tenfold. Ato turns to the wheel and taps it with pride.

"I think your people call it silver. It is a very nice material."

"Oh, yes, very nice," says Connor, practically salivating as the mechanism chugs along. Suddenly, my unease returns. I clear my throat and Connor, trying to remain professional, straightens his stance.

"Well, uh, I think we can find a way to help your soil, Ato, but I believe the adventurers had a trade agreement attached to that?"

"Oh, right! I forgot about that! It sounds like fun!"

"Yes, very fun. Now, I can't finalize anything right now, but I will return in a few weeks, and perhaps we can discuss us taking a bit of silver off your hands? We don't have much use for it either, but I'd be happy to help."

"Oooo, yes, yes, yes! Thank you very much!" yelps Ato, who grabs Connor in a deep embrace. The Cardinal smirks happily, but Gene and I stare in confusion. To say we didn't use much silver isn't just an understatement, it's a bald-faced lie; our coins, weapons, anything of high value is made of silver, and we are currently in a very high shortage. Ato's silver and fuel would be the kiss of life for us, just like the Ralacharian's plants. And yet, Connor still delays a definitive deal. I reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of paper and a pen I packed just in case and quickly scribble on the page. Gene once again tries to peek, but I still hide it from him; he's nicer, and he has changed, but I don't think I can trust him fully just yet.

Ato puts Connor down, and he steps back and dusts himself off.

"We shall be leaving now," Connor says with a cordial smile, "but please keep a meeting on the books soon. It was lovely meeting you, Ato."

"You as well. This was-"

"Fun? Yes, I agree."

Connor rejoins the group and we turn to leave, but Ato stops me and taps me on the shoulder.

"Can you... show us how to whistle and make the thing that went bang next time you come?"

"Of course! I won't forget it."

Ato claps happily and we continue to leave. The Cardinal turns back and bows to Ato.

"A pleasure meeting you, Sir Ato," he says snidely. Ato looks confused, and a bit hurt, but does not correct him for fear of offense. For some reason, I feel compelled to dampen the hurt of the Cardinal's error and walk back, putting my fingers to my lips and blowing, creating another whistle.

"Just purse your lips, touch your fingers to your mouth, blow, and you're golden," I explain to Ato. Ato attempts the motion with success and smiles, clapping happily to show thanks. I'm not sure why, but it feels like I'm more diplomatic than the actual diplomats on this trip. I look up to Ato, hand them the note, and wave goodbye, pulling the Cardinal with me and joining the others.

"You can leave through the cavern on the far left to this motor," Ato explains. "It leads straight to the lower levels of the outside. It's lit by red and yellow glowworms, so you can't miss it."

"Thank you," I say, and we make our way to the exit. Once we find the tunnel and are mostly clear of the city, I grab the Cardinal by the collar and pull him close.

"Eek! How dare you grab me?!" he yelps.

"How dare you insult the ruler of these people? It is not their way to use our terms, so don't make them use the terms!"

"Bah! What does it matter, eh? Especially from you; you don't even take your country's faith nor values seriously. We can only prosper if the world understands our ways. This island's culture seems to fly directly in the face of it! When we return, we shall show them our ways."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I growl, my eyes practically piercing a hole in his skull. The Cardinal falls quiet, and Connor rushes over and forces me to unhand him.

"Let him go, you brute! The Cardinal is not at fault."

"But-"

"No buts! If you have another childish outburst while we're conducting business, you can forget your payment and your mother. Understood?"

The image of my mother in chains pangs in my head again, and my lips lock. Connor smiles devilishly and walks away, with the Cardinal under his arm as they begin to whisper to each other again. Gene walks over and lightly grabs my arm, pulling me out of the tunnel and around the rest of the island. He seems short of words again, but as we near the boat, he eventually mutters "I'm sorry" and loads me on the deck. By the time we finish boarding, it is the dead of night, so we decide to remain docked until morning. Natalia is surely fast asleep by now, but it's most likely for the better; I doubt I'm in the right mind to have a romantic chat. As I foist myself into my quarters without supper, too tired and enraged to keep down a meal, I replay the day's events and wonder, despite how 'advanced' and 'cultured' my home country appears, how is it our leaders look down on our newly discovered, highly intellectual and intriguing neighbors so fiercely? How is it we seem the least civilized of them all? The answer escapes me, so I close my eyes and hope to search for one in my slumber...