distance into the tunnel, and already it felt like summer. The dry air smelled faintly of smoke and oil.
The darkling pulled the door shut behind them. For the moment, Danielle was more worried about the darkling than the Duchess. This one was older than the ones she had fought before, and seemed less.. . wild. So far it had obeyed the Duchess’ commands to protect Danielle and her companions, but that didn’t make her any less uncomfortable with it creeping silently along behind her.
The tunnel opened into a small, square room, reinforced by thick square-cut beams and wooden boards. On the opposite wall, an open doorway led into darkness. Gerta clucked her tongue, and her light scurried closer to one of the beams. She examined a series of simple pictures carved into the wood. “This was used as a supply room. Food, water, new tools.”
“And now it’s the entryway into a damned fairy lair,” said Talia.
A handful of gravel flew out of the darkness. Most struck Talia, though some caught Danielle in the face and shoulder. Talia jumped to the side of the doorway, knife in hand.
“Mind your tongue, human. There’s no cursing here.” A pulsing orange glow approached from beyond the doorway. “Or have humans given up any pretense of civility when entering another’s home?”
“Our apologies,” said Danielle, cutting off Talia’s response. “You understand our language?”
“Aye. Veleris feels it’s important for us to learn the surface tongues.” The glow was getting closer. It reminded Danielle a little of a blacksmith’s forge. “I’ll be taking you to our queens myself. But first, cease that magical light. Are you trying to draw the fairy hunters upon our heads?”
Gerta ended her spell. “I didn’t know-”
“No magic! Nothing that could be detected by the surface.”
“What about your glamour on the doorway?” Gerta demanded.
“Fairy magic is natural. Subtle. Easier to hide. Even so, we use only what’s necessary to survive.”
Danielle’s eyes had adjusted enough for her to make out the outline of their guide and his mount. She stepped back as they emerged into the already cramped room. She reached for her missing sword without thinking. “Is that a dragon?”
“They’re the best thing for riding about the mines.” The dragon was as long as a horse from head to tail, but its body was much lower to the ground. The scales were a dirty red, almost brown. The orange glow Danielle had seen came from the dragon’s mouth, brightening with each breath. The wings were little more than stubs growing behind the forelegs, which made Danielle suspect this was a young dragon.
The rider was a dingy man, no higher than Danielle’s knee. He wore a round helmet and heavy, oft-mended clothes so filthy she couldn’t begin to guess the original color.
“He’s beautiful.” Gerta crouched in front of the dragon, holding out one hand. “What’s his name?”
“Careful.” The man tugged a silver rope which was looped around the dragon’s neck. “I’ve raised Koren here from an egg, but he’ll still take your fingers if you startle him.”
“And who are you?” asked Talia.
He raised a small shovel and rang the blade against his helmet in salute. “You can call me Tommy.”
Danielle tilted her head. “Your name is Tommy?”
“No. I said you can call me Tommy.” He tucked his shovel into an oversized leather sheath he wore over one shoulder. “Even if I trusted you with my name, you humans can never tell us apart anyway. Easier to share a name among ourselves when dealing with the likes of you.”
“He’s a knocker,” said Gerta, rubbing the scales along Koren’s snout. “A mountain fairy, kin to the kobolds.”
“Only handsomer and better behaved,” said Tommy.
Gerta continued to fawn over the dragon. “What does he eat? How often does he shed his skin? Where will he go when he’s full grown?”
“They’ll eat just about anything, though Koren here has a fondness for fish. When he gets too big, he’ll run off into the deeper tunnels to join the rest of his kind.” Tommy leaned down to pound the side of Koren’s neck. The dragon curved his head around, and a tongue the length of an eel slapped Tommy’s face. He laughed and shoved Koren’s face away. “Their breath will curl your beard.”
“You’ll take us to Bellum and Veleris?” Danielle asked.
“Right this way, my lady.” He drew his shovel and knocked it against the ground. The dragon swiveled about, away from the sound. A few more raps guided the dragon back into the tunnel. Thankfully, this tunnel was large enough for Danielle and the others to walk upright.
“Most of the main entrances to the mine are long buried,” he said. “We keep a few of the old vents cleared out, but given the way your people feel about our kind, we don’t encourage visitors down here. Not even those who’ve been vouched for by fairy nobles.”
“The Duchess is no noble,” said Talia. “She’s-”
“She rules over her kingdom, small as it may be,” Tommy interrupted. “That makes her noble to us. Over in Fairytown, they might cling to their old ideas about the noble caste, but when you’ve been driven into the dark, you worry less about blood and more about survival.
“The laws against fairykind were overturned years ago,” said Danielle. “Why do you continue to hide?”
Tommy snorted. “Show me the law that can soften the hate and the fear in people’s hearts, and then we’ll talk.”
It didn’t take long for Danielle to become disoriented as they made their way deeper into the mountain. Tunnels veered off at seemingly random angles. She thought they were sloping downward, but her senses weren’t sharp enough to know for certain.
The fairies kept their home in good repair. Bright planks showed where aging wood had been replaced in the walls and ceiling. She would have expected an abandoned mine to be quiet, but the air moving through the tunnels created a low background hum. She heard the occasional clank of metal against stone in the distance, though she couldn’t have said which direction the sounds came from.
“Here we go,” said Tommy, steering his dragon into a small room with a square-framed pit in the floor. “Mind your step.” He rapped his shovel against the dragon’s flank, and they disappeared into the pit. The dragon didn’t bother with the wooden ladder built into the side; his claws gripped the rock with ease.
When Danielle reached the bottom, she found herself in a larger cavern. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, about thirty feet up at the highest point. The floor had been smoothed flat. Barrels lined the wall to the right. A crude, waist-high barrier of stacked stone blocked a drop-off on the far side.
Four knockers were currently working to shore up that barrier. One tamped a stone into place with his shovel. Another was tapping the blade of his shovel against the wall, listening intently to the sounds.
They turned away from their work and greeted Tommy in a language Danielle didn’t recognize. He laughed and jumped down from Koren. Without warning, he grabbed his shovel in both hands and swung it at the nearest knocker.
The knocker did the same. The clang of the shovels nearly deafened her, but the knockers were all laughing.
“They greet each other by swinging shovels at each other’s heads,” Gerta said.
Danielle smiled wryly. “Sounds like Talia’s kind of people.”
Tommy beckoned them forward. “Welcome to Speas Elan. Gold Haven, in your tongue. Though most of the gold was hauled out long ago.”
“How many of you whackers live down here?” Talia asked.
“ Knockers, thank you very much. It’s well over two hundred at last count.”
The air was even warmer here. Danielle could feel the heat wafting up from the drop-off behind the barrier. She wiped sweat from her face, tucking her hair back behind her ears.
When she had first entered Fairytown in Lorindar, back before Jakob was born, she had been struck by the grandeur of the place. The vivid colors, the larger-than-life flowers and trees, the glow of magic. Speas Elan was the opposite, as if something had leached the color from this underground world. Dirt and dust painted everything in shades of red and brown. Even the flames of the knockers’ lanterns appeared subdued.
Through stairs cut into the left side of the cavern, Tommy brought them down into a second chamber. Here, a group of pixies, goblins, and a troll of some sort sat at a table with what looked like a normal human man.
“Oh, yes,” Tommy said to her unanswered question. “We have a few humans living down here. Fugitives, for the most part. Veleris has a soft heart. So long as they mind their place and earn their keep, they’re allowed to
