It calmed Dahn a bit to run her hand along the wall of the dark tunnel. Lit only by personal lights and torches, it looked a bit unreal. Touching the sides brought things back to reality. It also took her mind off the fact that her palms were sweating and her heart was racing. Her mind was still reeling over seeing her mother’s grassy form in the Crossroads, not to mention her decision to lead the people down this dark, empty tunnel. It had felt right at the time, but when it came time to actually commit to this course—not only for herself but for all the survivors of Hylan—she was afraid. Afraid that she was only a young girl without any real-life experience and that her uninformed actions could easily get them all killed. Who was she, anyway? The daughter of a llama rancher in a tiny mining town located so far from the centers of civilization that her father had told her it wasn’t on most maps.

  Then she’d had a vision.

  In truth, Dahn had grown up with visions. When she was little and her mother was still alive, she recalled playing with another girl about her age near the river. When Suhan had asked who she was talking to, young Dahn had just pointed at the girl and said, “Rianha.”

  Her mother had paused suddenly, as if something were wrong. Then smiled, knelt down and asked, “Did you say her name is Rianha?” When Dahn had nodded, Suhan asked another question. “Can you tell me what she looks like?”

  “That’s a silly question, Momma,” her daughter had responded. “She’s standing right there by the river! Her hair is brown, she’s a little taller than me and she’s wearing a yellow dress. She’s all wet, though. She must have fallen in.” But when Dahn had turned to ask her little friend if she had really fallen in the river—the little girl was gone. Dahn looked in every direction, but she couldn’t see her. “She must have run really fast!” young Dahn had exclaimed.

  It was years later before she learned that Rianha had fallen in the river and drowned more than two years prior.

  There were many other incidents as well. Usually, glimpses into the past … but sometimes, views of the future. Today’s vision, though, was by far the strangest she’d ever seen. As the people of the village were telling her they believed in her—powerful words that nearly overwhelmed her—she saw her brother, floating overhead. Xahn was curled up, like a baby. And like a baby, he was also naked. His eyes were tightly closed and his hair was twisting and waving, as if he were floating through the eddies of a stream. A woman’s arms were wrapped around him from behind, but she could not see the woman. The pair had floated above her head, carried off by some unseen current—straight into the dark hole that had turned out to be the tunnel.

  Before she knew it, folk had followed her gaze and assumed that this was where she was leading them. Dahn had asked for lights so she could dispel the notion that this was the way out; instead, the lights had proven a path actually existed. Now, she was at the head of more than 300 villagers heading down the dark passage with demonspawn not far behind—and no promise that this tunnel would lead the people away before those horrid creatures reached them.

  What in Treland am I doing? she asked herself silently. I’m not a leader. I’m not even a good follower! I’ve lived here all my life and have never even been in these mines? What do I know, anyway? A miner should be leading us, not some little know-nothing girl.

  “What is it, Little Mouse?” Jayn asked softly from her side. “Cold feet?”

  Dahn glanced about and whispered so only Jayn could hear, “What if this tunnel leads nowhere? What if the demonspawn come in? If that happens, I’ve led us to our destruction!”

  “That’s true,” Jayn said, nodding, a pensive expression on her face. “You know, Myria just told me that Karl found demonspawn at the rail cars, where we were all planning to go. If you hadn’t spoken up, if you hadn’t redirected us, we’d have been destroyed already.” The tall woman looked kindly down at Dahn and said, “Maybe you should start trusting yourself. It sounds trite, I know, but maybe Navi Jespon was right; maybe you should listen to your heart.”

  “Right now,” Dahn admitted, “my stomach is overcoming my heart. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

  Jayn didn’t say another word. She just put her hand on Dahn’s shoulder and brought her in closer in a comforting gesture. It worked—Dahn started to calm down. She lifted her head and looked around her, at all of the faces that were so familiar.

  The strangeness of the situation hit her hard: people wandering in a dark hole in the ground, dressed in their best clothing, a mix of fear and determination on most of their faces. Wyll Helper saw her looking up and winked at her from his perch atop Jeanna’s shoulders. That made her laugh for a second. She realized she had known most of the folk here her entire life—and had even been at the births of at least three of the younger children who scampered around their parents' feet like they were on a grand adventure. As much as she and Xahn had stood apart from other Hylanders because of their foreign father who didn’t allow them to use crystals, she still felt like all of these people were … well, they were family.

  “Hold up!” said a voice from a few steps ahead. Dahn saw that one of the miners was walking a few feet ahead of the rest of them, holding his very large white crystal on a pole. He turned back toward the crowd, a grim expression on his face. “That’s the end of the path,” he said loudly. “I’m afraid we didn’t dig any further.”

  The group was stunned into silence. There was no weeping, no screaming, no panicking. Like Dahn, it appeared that most of the refugees had figured this might happen. Now, they were only holding their breaths, waiting for the sound of demonspawn coming their way.

  Dahn found to her surprise that she was holding her breath with them.

  Although he did not feel emotions like a human, Valen was concerned. He had dismounted his ird and formed a makeshift command center in the ruins of the Great Hall and was helping himself to the remains of their feast. While he didn’t require food to survive, he could derive sustenance from it when necessary. During battle, more energy was always needed. As he ate the roasted turkey before him—meat, bones, gristle and all—he reviewed the reports coming back from the dozens of minox deployed throughout the mines. The phantom bats were following the escaped Hylanders. He had grinned when the pincer move he’d orchestrated had worked and his ellgru troops had fallen upon the humans at the rail carts. That grin had been short-lived, however, when he discovered that only two of the Hylanders were caught and eaten. And those two had been old and injured. Somehow the villagers had discovered his trap and had not only avoided it, but sacrificed two of their own to lead his soldiers to believe the trap had succeeded. Now, he didn’t know where the Hylanders had gone, and he would need to expend more resources to find them.

  No matter, he thought, his smile returning. There are only two ways out of that mine now, and my troops cover both. They may flee, but those humans are not going anywhere.

  A familiar buzzing sensation in his forehead told him that Nilrem was approaching. Although he did not have the head of M’Randa yet, he knew exactly where she was. His rock trolls would be through the door soon. Like the villagers, the Soul of the Vessel had nowhere left to go.

  Nilrem, he was certain, would be pleased.

  The tunnel wasn’t wide enough for everyone to gather in a group, so Dahn came up with the idea of rotating messengers to the middle and back of the crowd while they were discussing options. The young woman knew she was lacking in tactical knowledge, so she asked her father to come to her at the front of the group, near the dark wall of rock that was the end of the tunnel. She also asked that the mayor, the Healer, and Ekatern’s serving women join her.

  “If we can’t go forward,” Mayor Helper said, thoughtfully, once Karl and the others had arrived, “we need to go back. Maybe this excursion down the tunnel was a great idea … it saved us from the demonspawn waiting to pounce on us when we got to the mine cars. It’s possible that now—since they’ve lost us—they’ve left and we can go back to our original plan.”

  “Not likely,” Karl and Myria said simultaneously. “If they know we thwarted their trap,” Karl continued, “the last thing they’ll do is leave an escape route unguarded. Since there are only two ways out of the mines, now that the entrance to the crystal temple is blocked, they will carefully watch both remaining exits.”

  “I agree,” Myria said, softly. “Going back is probably not an option unless we have some way of shielding or hiding ourselves.”

  “Do the Sisters of the Crystal have a way to make us invisible?” Dahn asked, without much hope.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Tami told them. Jayn shook her head as well.

  “That’s not an entirely bad idea,” Myria said, slowly with a look of concentration.

  “What?” Both of the other sisters said at the same time.

  “Can you make us invisible?” Karl asked, hopefully.

  “What about using purple crystal powder to project a scene from another part of the mines in front of us?” Myria asked her Sisters.

  “I’ve never done anything like that before,” Tami said, her eyes wide.

  “I’ve made purple powder and could maybe pull off something like that,” Jayn said, her eyes narrowing. “But it would take weeks of experimentation and practice. Besides, do any of you have purple powder down here?” Tami shook her head.

  “How much more of this would we need?” Myria asked, holding out a pouch about the size of her palm.

  “To obscure three hundred and twenty people?” Tami retorted, shocked. “About four dozen of those!”

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  “Keep your voices low,” Karl said, quietly. “We want to speak so everyone can hear us, but we definitely don’t want to announce our position.”

  Everyone nodded and became silent as they tried to come up with another option. “Maybe we could,” Tami started. “No, that won’t work,” she said after several seconds. The silence started to grow uncomfortable and Dahn could actually feel the crowd of people becoming more and more despondent.

  “Wait!” said a voice in a harsh whisper from farther down the tunnel. It was K’Van Cmyth, winding his way carefully through the crowd. Dahn’s heart leapt as she saw his face towering over everyone around him.

  “What is it, young man?” the mayor demanded when young Cmyth arrived.

  “There’s an idea from the rear of the crowd,” K’Van said, breathing heavily. He must have sprinted to get here, Dahn thought. “The miners want to dig.”

  “I thought this route didn’t go anywhere,” Karl said with a frown.

  “It wasn’t profitable, they said,” K’Van told them. “But they think we are only ten or fifteen feet below the south side of the witch’s … of Ekatern’s mansion. If we can dig upwards…”

  “We can make an escape route,” Hyacinth breathed, bouncing the baby boy—who was now quite awake—on her hip.

  “That’s what they say,” K’Van agreed.

  “How long will that take?” The mayor asked.

  “They’re not sure, but we have picks here. They told me, if everyone helps…”

  “Go get them!” Karl directed. “Go get them now!”

  “Yes, sir!” K’Van said, turning on his heel with a huge, beautiful grin on his face. Dahn felt a smile spread across her face as well. Before he left, the mayor grabbed the young man and pulled his head down. Dahn could see Mayor Helper’s mouth moving next to K’Van’s ear. The grin fell from his face, and he nodded, moving as quickly as possible to the rear of the group.

  “What did you tell him?” Karl asked, as the mayor returned.

  Daevy Helper looked around and pulled the leaders in closer. “I told him to ready their blasting powder on the far end of the tunnel,” he said softly. “I asked one of them to remain behind and if it looked like the demonspawn were going to come after us …”

  “To collapse the tunnel’s entrance,” Hyacinth finished. “Keep them from getting to us. And maybe keep us from getting out.”

  “We beat this Valen and his goblin army,” Daevy said with conviction, “or we die trying.” Everyone in the group nodded quietly. Dahn felt a heavy lump in her throat.

  Beat them or die trying, Dahn said to herself solemnly. It was something her father—or her mother—might say. And with that, something strange happened to Dahn. She stopped being scared. She became determined.

  There was no announcement, no ceremony, no pomp. The Necromancer simply walked into the Great Hall as if he were out for a stroll. He was dressed all in black armor, as he had been for the last several bodies he’d possessed. Valen could see this body was nearing the end of its usefulness: it was hairless, eyeless, shrunken, shriveled, and dried out, looking like a walking skeleton. Nilrem picked his way carefully but smoothly through the rubble, holding the red orb—his Incarnate—in the body’s gaunt right hand.

  “Good work, Valen,” he announced in his body’s wispy, dry, raspy voice. “Where are the villagers? Where is the Soul?”

  “The villagers are trapped in a tunnel in the mines,” Valen said, as he stood to attention. “All but two entered the tunnel and those two have been eliminated. The others are just now discovering that their escape route is a dead end. Our troops will be upon them in moments.”

  “Good, good,” the Necromancer crowed, putting palms together before him. “And the Soul?”

  “For now, she has escaped the soldiers, but her freedom will be short-lived. She has barricaded herself in a small basement room, not far from here. The ird are removing the barricades as we speak. You will have her head in a few moments.”

  “Excellent.” Nilrem paused. “It is said she cannot be killed. I wonder—will her head continue to live on without her body? The body without the head, perhaps?” The Necromancer laughed, a low, rustling sound, like dry leaves blowing in a storm. “I suppose we shall soon find out.

  “But these things are trivial,” Nilrem continued. “Take me to the body of the Green Crystal Witch.” Valen bowed and walked quickly toward the open doors to the main hallway. The Necromancer followed, taking long, deliberate steps that somehow managed to keep up with Valen’s quick pace.

  The main hallway was a wreck. Stones and bricks lay everywhere, some in piles, but most just randomly scattered about. There was a fine layer of white and gray dust on everything, even the bodies of those who had fallen. Despite piles of rubble and piles of bodies—both human and not—the two Angels and their entourage of demonspawn made good time. Soon, they passed through the tall doors of the World Room. Valen led the Necromancer to a raised dais surrounded by clear crystal pillars where Ekatern the Green Crystal Witch lay upon a low couch of green velvet. Her hands had been placed across her chest, her ancient eyes had been closed, and her white hair carefully combed. She was dressed all in green and wore one of the glowing green crystals on a necklace.

  “Interesting,” Nirlem said slowly as he stared at her with his empty eye sockets. “She’s not entirely dead, is she?”

  “No, my Lord,” Valen told him. “Her mind has left her body. I am told it is imprisoned within the crystalline structure of this world. Without it, her body will eventually die. For the time being, though, her body lives.”

  “Excellent! Let us not waste any time,” Nilrem told his servant. He laid the glowing red orb upon the dead woman’s chest and removed his hand. The instant his fingers stopped touching the red sphere, the body collapsed in a heap of bones and armor. A tiny puff of black dust arose from the pile. As suddenly as the old body fell, the eyes of the Crystal Witch flew open. She took an enormous, noisy gasp of air and sat up straight.

  “Yes!” the Necromancer shouted in Ekatern’s voice. “Yes! This body is Endowed! I can hear your mind, Valen! I can hear the budmother calling to her children!” Leaping from the dais, Nilrem stood up and spun around, running his hands over his head, his face, his arms, his breasts and stomach, laughing in a high, clear tone. “I can feel my connection to the Incarnate! I no longer need to hold it!” The Necromancer threw the red ball into the air—and it stayed there, hovering nearby. “After more than five thousand years of suffering, I am finally where I belong!” he shouted.

  “What are your orders now, my Lord?” Valen asked, bowing to his master’s new form.

  “Destroy this temple. It is useless to us. Kill all the humans and bring me the Soul’s head.”

  “It shall be done, my Lord!” Valen said, hand over his heart. The Necromancer’s servant nodded to the rock trolls that had followed Nilrem and him into the World Room. One of the huge, stone-skinned creatures punched through the side wall, bringing it down. Another struck one of the clear pillars with all its might.

  There was a sound like the ringing of a giant bell. It echoed deafeningly throughout the temple, from wall to wall, from ceiling to floor. All of the crystals embedded in the walls and lying about on tables and on shelves lit up brilliantly. The entire building shook, sending the miasma of dirt and dust into the air, diffusing light from the crystals, filling the World Room with a swirling fog of colors.

  Suddenly, the ird threw back their heads and screamed at the ceiling. The ellgru soldiers in the hallway fell to their knees and threw their lizard hands over their lizard ears. All of them shrieked in pain.

  Pain? Valen thought, staggered at the ringing that continued to reverberate throughout the temple. Demonspawn do not feel pain! Those screams must be the budmother’s!

  The floor of the World Room began to rumble and shake. There was the muffled sound of a nearby explosion. Beginning at the middle of the room, the smooth marble floor tiles began to fall through the ground and into a dark pit below. Valen rushed to safety in the main hallway and found Nilrem was already there. The demonspawn were not so lucky. Paralyzed by the sound, they toppled in the black chasm that opened in the floor. The entire World Room collapsed in upon itself—floor, walls, ceiling, and everything between—until there was nothing left but the door to a large hole in the ground.

  It only took the miners—Jo’l Doughty and Tirna Hollokrik—to get into a rhythm with the villagers: swing a pickaxe, let the loose rocks fall, gather the rocks in baskets, pass the baskets to the back of the crowd, dump the rocks, and return the empty baskets to the front. There was some significant danger involved since the two miners with the picks were held aloft on the tall, strong shoulders of K’Van Cmyth and his uncle Rankin and those gathering the rocks had to get the timing just perfect to avoid being hit by falling debris. But it was working—in a brief time they had cut a hole almost five feet deep and wide enough for two people to enter at once.

  “I’m guessing we’re about halfway through, Mayor,” Jo’l said, pushing back his helmet and looking down from his perch atop K’Van.

  “What do you think, Tirna?” Daevy Helper asked, trying to keep his voice low.

  “Yep. We’re goin’ straight up,” Tirna said, wiping dirt from her face with the back of her hand. “Shouldn’t be much farther.”

  The mayor motioned to Jeanna and said, “Have Wyll pass them up some water.” Jeanna nodded and passed a water jug to Wyll who was still riding her back. Daevy wondered if she had ever put him down since the feast. Wyll reached as high as he could and Tirna grabbed the jug. She passed it to Jeanna’s father first, took a swig and splashed a bit on her face after he was finished, then lowered it to Wyll again.

  “Almost done!” the mayor said to encourage those around him. “Let’s keep going!”

  Jo’l nodded, took a deep breath and swung his pickaxe at the ceiling again. When it hit, the entire roof of the tunnel rumbled. Everyone in the tunnel ducked and rolled toward the walls—Hylanders all knew the dangers of a collapsing tunnel in the mines. And this being an abandoned dig with only a few new timbers reinforcing the ceiling, people were twice as nervous.

  Dahn peeked out from under an outcropping of rock and saw that the roof had remained intact. She scrambled over to where K’Van stood against the wall, holding Jo’l in his arms like he had held Navi Jespon. Other people began to get back on their feet, though a few remained crouched down, just in case.

  “Is everyone all right?” asked a familiar voice. Dahn turned and saw her father racing through the crowd toward her.

  “I think we’re fine. Although, I’m not sure we should continue with this—”

  The roof rumbled again. No one had laid so much as a finger on it. Tiny pebbles dropped down and a few folk scattered for cover again.

  “That wasn’t us,” Jo’l said. “I don’t think it was us the first time.” As if confirming the miner’s assessment, the roof shook once more.

  “RUN!” screamed a voice from far behind them. Everyone turned around and watched as Rusk Talverin, one of the more senior miners, sprinted toward them, waving his hands. “Get back! Get back!” he shouted. “It’s gonna blow!” With that, he dove towards the crowd who had followed his panicked advice and moved clear to the dead end of the tunnel. As he hit the ground, the cavernous tunnel rang like the inside of a bell. It was so loud that Dahn screamed and covered her ears as she dropped to the rocky ground. She felt her father cover her with his own body, protecting her from any blast.

  “That’s not the sound of powder!” Tirna yelled, just before another explosion went off, knocking them all to their feet. A cloud of smoke swept over them, and they were all pelted with small rocks.

  “Now that—that was the sound of powder!” Tirna said, when the dust settled. The ringing had stopped as well. Still, things did not look good at all, Dahn decided.

  “What in Treland happened?” Mayor Helper demanded as he stood and wiped the dirt and dust off of him.

  “Sorry—sorry, sir,” Rusk coughed through the dust and his scraggly gray beard. “Them demons started a-comin’ so fast … they woulda come right in this here tunnel if I hadn’t blown the powder, like you said earlier.”

  The mayor grunted and nodded with a grimace. “But you got it closed in time, right?”

  “No, sir,” the old miner said, shaking his head. “They was a-gonna get in here before the powder could blow. But that ringin’ sound came out the tunnel and they all stopped dead in their tracks, like they’d been hit in the head! Stopped runnin’, stopped growlin’, stopped movin’—started screamin’ instead.”

  “Screaming?” Daevy asked, incredulously. “What in the bloody world makes demonspawn scream?”

  “Quiet!” shouted Karl, his arms still protectively around Dahn, for which she was very grateful. “Hush! All of you and listen.” The tunnel got very, very quiet. Soon, they all heard it.

  Water. Rushing water. Somewhere nearby. Somewhere very close.

  “Oh shit,” Tirna whispered. Then she screamed, “Grab onto something or someone! NOW!”

  Dahn felt her father’s arms tighten around her just before the wall of the tunnel collapsed and they were carried away by a raging flood as fierce as any demonspawn.