Read Sword and Sorceress XXVII for Free Online Page B

still a matter of hours before
the last of them were out of the mine. First it had taken some time for them to
cut lengths of rope from the small carts used to haul ore up to the surface,
and knot them together. More time still for the nimblest of the young men—of
those who still had the strength to be nimble—to climb up to the small opening
where Amina crouched and find a secure place to fasten the end of the rope. The
best they had found was a half buried rock that neither of them trusted, so
they had wound it around themselves as well, and dug their heels in, telling
the lightest of the others to come up first. As more ascended, they added their
hands and weight to the rope and eventually all had climbed, or been carried,
up the rope.
    Then Amina started the long way back,
scrambling backwards down that last steep passage and then counting everyone by
the now feeble light of her lantern to make sure no one got left behind. The
entire journey out was like that: get through a set of passageways and turns,
have a moment of rest for those who could barely walk, and for those carrying
the ones that couldn’t, count faces and start over again.
    When they reached the end of the dirt
passageways and began through those of red rock and air, Amina could see two
passageways. The one she could see with her eyes and her memory, and another,
just like the ones they had already battled their way through. She realized
this was what the others were seeing, and wished they could rejoice in the
beauty and air she could see. But she realized this was what the fey had meant;
this was her home and the others would not be allowed to see it.
    Indeed, Amina realized, if the villagers
knew that these beautiful caves were here, they would flock to them. Folk would
come from other villages to gawk and marvel. And the fey would have no home;
she was right to guard it. Still, it was difficult to see the weary, desperate
miners ducking to squeeze through narrow dank passages that were not there,
peering to keep sight of Amina’s faint lantern glow when light from above
filtered through and turned damp sheens of water on the rock into glimmering
mirrors and bathed the glowing rocks with beauty.
    At last they reached the rooted
stairway, and even that seemed to be difficult for the villagers to see. Amina
wound up climbing the narrow winding way and attaching the rope they had
carried with them to the bole of the tree and once again the miners had to
climb up cautiously, passing the weakest of them up hand-to-hand.
    The final stumbling walk down the hill
was done in silence, amidst the growing dusk of a day already over, not one of
them with the energy to talk until they reached the mine entrance where anxious
relatives still hovered, watching the efforts of those still trying to dig
through from the other side. Then the babble of voices broke out, amidst tears
and hugs, and the blowing of the mine’s whistle.
    Amina stumbled back to her aunt’s house,
knowing she had to return to the cavern, but wanting just one cup of tea and to
wash her face and hands. She remembered answering a few of her aunt’s questions
and took the mug of tea she had pushed into her hands, and woke the morning,
stiff, in the chair in the corner of the room.
    “Oh, no!” she cried, jumping to her feet
and then stumbling forward awkwardly, on feet stiff from sleeping in a chair.
    “What is it?” her aunt cried, alarmed.
    “I have to go back to the cavern—umm, to
the mine!”
    “Why do you have to do that? All the
villagers are out, dear. You did it; you got them out.”
    “Yes, I know, but… there’s something
more I need to do… Keeper work,” she said finally, looking at her aunt firmly
but saying nothing more.
    Her aunt met her gaze and then nodded. “There
often is,” she said, and asked no more. She insisted Amina have something to
eat—‘you didn’t eat a bite last night and barely sipped your tea—you need
something for energy or you’ll collapse