“I’ve managed to figure out the shift schedule for the guards watching the prisoners. If we time this right, I think we can get you in to talk to the prisoners, so listen close and follow my directions…”
An hour later, I was creeping down the dirt road leading from the town to the mineshaft where the Resistance housed their prisoners. I wore the illusion of Private Remis, the soldier Fenris said was due to replace the one on duty, or at least I hoped I was. Fenris had described him in great detail, and I remembered handing him a trencher at both lunch and dinner, but there had been so many faces it was possible I could have made a mistake. To be safe, I was careful to stick to the shadows and remain as inconspicuous as possible.
The moon was over half full, providing plenty of illumination, and after about a ten-minute brisk walk the mine came into view. It was a large, vertical shaft carved into the base of the mountain, accessible only by a wire cage that could be hoisted up and down via a pulley system. Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to be able to use the thing as the mule used to pull the primitive elevator was stabled for the night, but thanks to Fenris I had other options.
As Fenris had assured me, only a single guard was posted outside the mineshaft. He was leaning up against the wall, his stance relaxed and his eyes wandering, but he straightened abruptly at the sight of me.
“Remis! Is it time for shift change already?”
“Not yet,” I admitted in a deep, gruff voice that matched my burly exterior. “I was having trouble sleeping, so I thought I’d come out early and keep you company.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” the soldier said as I approached, relaxing his stance. “Being stuck on night shift has been hell on my sleep schedule –”
I placed a hand on his shoulder, then murmured a Word that Fenris had taught me. Instantly, the man’s eyes fluttered closed and he sank onto his bottom, head thunking against the rock wall as he slipped into a deep sleep. According to Fenris, he would be out until someone woke him up, presumably the very soldier I was impersonating when he arrived for shift change.
Pretty effective, I thought as I stared down at the soldier, who was snoring lightly. And this was just one of the spells Fenris had taught me tonight. I’d tried to get him to tell me how he knew them, but he’d brushed off my questions, telling me he didn’t have time to explain. When we got out of this mess I was going to wring the truth out of him, but with less than half an hour left until shift change I didn’t have time to ponder it.
Assured that the soldier wasn’t going anywhere, I hurried to the edge of the shaft and peered down into the darkness. I could make out a very faint light from one of the tunnels that branched off from the main shaft, far below. I breathed a little sigh of relief – I had good night vision, but even I couldn’t see in pitch darkness. Taking a deep breath, I muttered the Words to the second spell Fenris had taught me, and after a few moments my feet began to lift off the ground. A mixture of excitement and fear bubbled up inside me at the fact that I was flying, but I tamped down on it and focused on controlling my trajectory as I guided my floating body down the shaft. There was enough space around the cage that I was able to squeeze past it, and I floated down through the darkness, heading for the glow. It steadily grew brighter the further I sank, until finally a tunnel opening came into view, lit on both sides by torches bracketed into the rough-hewn walls. I wrinkled my nose as the scents of urine, feces, and unwashed bodies rolled over me, and knew without a doubt that this was where the delegates were being kept.
I floated into the tunnel, then released the levitation spell and touched down softly onto the hard-packed dirt. A wave of exhaustion hit me – the levitation spell used a constant stream of energy – and I pressed my hand against the dirt wall to steady myself. In the murky shadows beyond the torchlight, I could make out several bodies propped upright against the wall with their legs stretched out in front of them, heads hanging in apathy. I frowned as I realized I didn’t see any chains or scent any magical wards holding them here, and wondered why they hadn’t escaped yet. They were all mages with more experience than I – surely they could have magicked their way out of here by now? And why hadn’t any of them noticed me?
Dirt shifted beneath my boots as I moved slowly toward them, and I raised a hand, conjuring a ball of fire for illumination. The sphere hovered inches from my palm, and as I held it high, it cast bluish-green light against the walls. The seven men stirred and moaned at the intrusion of light, and as I cast my gaze over their ornate but dirty robes I confirmed that they were, indeed, the delegates who’d accompanied Iannis on the dirigible. How different they looked now, from the proud officials who rarely gave me the time of day. I wrinkled my nose at the scent of vomit and other bodily excretions hanging in the air, and wished I’d brought something to tie around my face and block the smell.
One of them opened his eyes to stare at me, and I narrowed my own eyes at his blurry gaze and blown pupils that nearly eclipsed his grey-green eyes. “Wh-what do you want now?” he slurred, and my heart sank. No wonder the Resistance wasn’t worried about the mages escaping. They’d been pumped full of drugs.
Crouching down in front of him, I tamped down the flame in my hand so I wouldn’t continue to hurt his eyes. His dark brown hair was scraggly, his triangular jaw covered with a patchwork of stubble that told me growing a beard didn’t come easily to him. “I’m looking for the Chief Mage,” I said enunciating my words slowly and clearly. “Have you seen him?”