“Joan, is something wrong?” Varga’s arms closed around her, his voice anxious, and she smiled up at him.
“No, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
He still looked worried, but he nodded. “I’m afraid this is going to be a hard journey.”
He wasn’t lying. Almost as soon as they started walking, she could feel her tired muscles aching. Despite the amount of work she had done for Ukhaan, it had not prepared her for this type of endurance trial. But the memory of her time with Ukhaan also helped to spur her on. Before she grew too tired to look around, she could tell that everyone else was also suffering. Even Saka had abandoned her complaints and just trudged along behind them.
It was too narrow to walk together, so she tucked her hand into the back of Varga’s pants and concentrated on following in his footsteps. Even George began to flag, whining unhappily at her feet. Over Varga’s objection, she tucked the small lizard inside her coverall. George chirped happily, then settled down against her stomach to sleep. At least one of them was comfortable. Her feet felt raw and her mouth was drier than the Sahara. Her back ached from the constant ducking to avoid low sections of the tunnel roof. How much worse it must be for Varga and Issar with their greater heights.
When at last she heard the sound of water, she would have sobbed with delight if there had been any fluid left in her body with which to make tears. Varga led her straight to the basin, and she was too tired to protest. The other females crowded in next to her, and she had to fight back the urge to elbow them a way. As soon as she could make herself, she lifted her head and gestured to Varga.
“Your turn.”
He gave her a quick look but didn’t argue, and that more than anything, made her realize that he must be equally exhausted. When he finished, she lifted George up to the basin. He lapped greedily, and she was about to make a teasing comment when a noise sounded from the tunnel on the other side. She froze and looked up at Varga. He tensed, hand dropping to where the weapon used to be.
He gestured silently, and they all slipped back into the tunnel behind them. He crouched at the entrance, watching as the noise came closer. It was an odd scraping noise, and it reminded her of a horror movie with the victim crouched in silence waiting for the monster to appear. She shivered, and Varga reached back and gently patted her leg, his touch warm and reassuring.
A little of her tension eased. She knew he would do anything he could to protect her.
He crouched lower, then she heard a splashing noise and he sprang forward. A startled cry from the cave was quickly choked into silence. Had something happened to him? She started to rush after him, but Issar blocked the way, peeping around the corner before sighing and waving her ahead.
She rushed into the cave and found Varga holding up a small frog-like male by his throat. An unpleasant odor filled the cave, and Varga looked disgusted.
“He urinated on me.”
“Well you probably scared him. Let him down, Varga. He doesn’t look very dangerous.”
Varga scowled at the small male. “I’m going to put you down. Do not make any noise and do not approach any of the females.”
The male nodded eagerly, his eyes bulging. As soon as his feet reached the ground and Varga removed his hand from around his throat, he started babbling, although fortunately he kept his voice low. “I do apologize. I thought you were one of the guards. But I promise I didn’t urinate on you—my skin omits a liquid when I feel threatened.” Big eyes blinked up at Varga. “You might want to wash it off. It can have an irritating effect.”
Varga swore again and moved over to the basin to rinse off the foul-smelling liquid covering his upper half.
“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.
He nodded. “My skin protects me. It is merely offensive.”
“I’m truly sorry, your honor,” the small male said eagerly. “Please forgive my insignificant self.”
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
“I am Ahona, a humble worker in these great mines. I wished only to seek some refreshment before returning to work.”
“You mean you snuck away and left your fellow workers shorthanded,” Rummel said, glaring at Ahona.
“I’m sure my small contribution will not be missed. I’m afraid my meager efforts make very little difference.” Ahona ducked his head humbly, but Joan suspected that Rummel’s assessment was probably accurate. Still, she couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to take a break in this dreadful heat.
“Where were you supposed to be working?” Varga demanded.
“We are clearing away the rubble blocking the entrance to the new mines,” Ahona said eagerly, then shook his head. “It’s a terrible mess. There’s much rock to be cleared, and the guards are very impatient.”
“How close is where you are working to the end of the tunnel?”
“Just around the corner, although the area where we are putting the discarded rocks is between us. It was when I placed my small load on the pile that I noticed the entrance and remembered that there was a water station in here. I didn’t mean any harm. Truly.”
He sounded sincere enough but something about him bothered Joan. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept darting around, never settling on one thing but noticing everything. Varga didn’t seem
