Nola felt a little uneasy. What could she say about the loss of his sister? At least he could maintain mental contact with her, unlike Nola with Spirit. Curbie ‘s powers of telepathy must be strong, at least where his sister was concerned. She wished hers were strong enough to reach Spirit. She was terribly worried and would do anything to know how he was being treated. She could readily identify with Curbie. Even though he could still speak with his sister, the things Curbia told him obviously frightened him. She wondered if it wouldn’t be better to be cut off. If she was in contact with Spirit and he was being tortured or something like that, she was sure she would lose control.
She decided to change the subject. “What goes on here?”
“These are the dreamstone mines. Creatures are brought here to dig and to have their spirits broken. That makes us easier to convert, you see?” Curbie stiffened and stared at the door behind Nola, his nose quivering.
The door cracked open and a gnarled hand threw in a metal plate. The plate landed on the floor with a clank and the door was locked once more. The plate contained a sort of slop and a lump of something. When Nola inspected it more closely, she could see the slop looked much like animal entrails. The lump was a big piece of moldy bread.
Curbie approached and took a sniff, his black nose twitching. “It’s exactly as Curbia described it,” he said. “The creatures in her cave fight mercilessly over every scrap of the stuff, you see.”
Nola smiled and drew the plate away. Curbie snarled at her and she covered her mouth in surprise. His fangs were bared. “No, no! You don’t understand!” she protested.
“What’s to understand?” he growled. “You are trying to take all the food for yourself!” His hackles bristled about his shoulders.
“No, you don’t have to eat this stuff, if you don’t like it, because I can—”
“I like it just fine!” He snapped the air in front of her and pawed at the plate, scooping out some of the guts onto the floor in front of him.
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “But I’m not going to eat that slop! Not when I can have a big juicy steak!” A plate appeared in her hand. The smell of the warm meat quickly overwhelmed the stench of the air.
Curbie’s ears perked up and he was drooling, his tongue lolling out. “Illusion?”
Nola looked at him and smiled warmly. “No. See for yourself.” She put the steaming meat in front of him.
He did not touch it, though he continued drooling a torrent of saliva. “You are a Creator!” he whispered with force.
Oops! Nola had forgotten not to use her skills. What if someone saw her doing it? They would know who she was and the Fren would surely dispose of her.
Curbie seemed to notice that she was worried. “Do not worry, Wilma,” he said, winking at her. “You caught me by surprise. You need not fear me! I am on your side. May I eat that delicious-smelling food?”
Nola thought of correcting him on her name, since he knew the truth anyway. She decided to play it safe and let the name stick. “Of course you may,” she said, creating a bowl of fruit for herself.
She conjured luberries and spotted oranges. She wanted to eat the things that she ate on the surface. She felt trapped and alone in the ground, separated from her friends and her love. She felt as if she'd never see the surface or the light of the sun again. The fruit eased a little of that feeling.
Curbie placed his sore paw, gently, on the steak and chewed it as if it were a rare treasure. Nola ate an orange and two fistfuls of the white luberries. When they were finished, Curbie walked around in a tight circle and curled himself on the floor of the cell, his paws tucked neatly under him.
“You had best get some rest. You see, the guard will come soon and take us to the tunnels to dig.” With that he closed his eyes and refused to speak further.
Nola cleared the pebbles away from a flat spot near the wall and leaned back. It was terribly uncomfortable, but she knew better than to conjure a bed or a pillow, lest the guard see it when he came. Before closing her eyes to rest, she gestured with a hand, and the extra plate and bowl disappeared. Then she disbelieved the fragments of rope that had hobbled her. She doubted that the guards would miss them.
Her eyes closed, and she tried to rest with her arms crossed over her chest. Her ankle throbbed and the rough wall pained the sores on her back. She was forced to change positions. She stretched out across the floor on her stomach, but this caused her ankle to twist when she started relaxing. She was forced to hold it straight by holding her shoe upright, and she had to remain alert to do so. Thus she got very little rest before the Fren guard returned.
She had no idea if it was night or day, or how long she had been lying there. The light in the tunnels outside the cell was the same as when she first arrived. Curbie trailing her, she followed the guard through a door and into a new tunnel. The din grew to a roar.
The tunnel was short. It opened into a catacomb of incomplete tunnels and passageways. She strained her eyes in the dim light to make out the shapes she saw.
The walls seemed to be lined with a myriad of creatures, fifty or more. Most of them were four-footed or humanoid. There was a bird close to her. It had very short wings, strong-looking feet and blunt talons that seemed to indicate a life spent in burrows. They were all busy digging and banging with tooth and nail. None of them had shovels, or even sticks. Some of them used fallen stones to help them dig.
There were also several Fren. Nola noticed that one of them with a whip was severely lashing a large rodent that had fallen down. It had collapsed in exhaustion. The Fren did not let up until the creature started feebly to scratch at the floor. “That’s better!” yelled the Fren.
Then the rodent stopped scratching and lay still, its eyes closed. Nola knew it was not dead; she could see its back rise and fall as it breathed. It was simply unconscious, or beyond exertion. The Fren whipped the poor animal again, and when it no longer responded to the lashing, it was dragged across the cave floor, past Nola and Curbie. The creature looked up at her as it was pulled past on the rough stones. She had never seen such a pained expression, nor had she seen such a look of pure hatred.
“He’s off to the room,” the guard said with satisfaction, speaking loudly over the noise of digging. “Which is where you will go if you don’t obey.” He pushed both Curbie and Nola into the short depression made by the rodent.
“Now dig, or else!” shouted the Fren. “I’ll be keeping my eyes on you two. Especially you,” he said, poking Curbie with his jag. “The chief told me you’d be trouble.” He walked away.
Nola looked at Curbie as he started to dig, doggie style. She picked up a stone that looked promising and began to scratch at the soft rock with it. The rock was surprisingly porous, and chipped away slightly with each scrape.
After a moment, she looked around the cave. She noticed that most of the Fren had left and only one or two remained, watching over the throng. It seemed a crazy thing to do, leaving so many oppressed creatures unattended. Any of them could escape. If they all ran at once, there would be no way of getting them all.
“How come the guards left? We can get away now,” Nola whispered.
“Speak for yourself,” Curbie growled. “Don’t you know what we are all looking for?”
Nola hadn’t thought of that. It did seem like a lot of trouble just to dig holes. “No. What is it?”
“The magic dreamstone. The twin of the one Reility took from you, Nola. Besides, even if we could escape this sector, we’d never make it out alive.”
“How did you know my name?” she asked, alarmed.
“Everyone knows you. That is, that you are the Creator. You are to be our salvation. But I now have my doubts that you will escape. You seem to lack the required strength to deal with our problems, no offense intended.”
Nola ignored his doubts, lest they shake her faith. “But I thought there were no more stones like mine.”
“There is one more. They tell us that whoever finds that stone will be
set free to live in peace. I’m going to find that stone. When I do, I will ask that my sister be released.”
“But what’s the big deal about finding the stone? I mean, he already has mine. What good is having another? He can’t even use them. He’s not a Creator.”
Curbie did not answer right away, as he was concentrating on a larger fragment that was resisting his efforts. He did not want to attract the attention of the Fren by progressing too slowly.
Nola noticed that her mud was dry and flaking off. She paused a moment to renew it.
Curbie struck something in the rock and dug vigorously, trying to dislodge it. It turned out to be a large hunk of colorless dreamstone, in crystal form. It looked a lot like quartz. He barked loudly and one of the guards shuffled up and took the dreamstone away. He was safe, for a while: he had produced.
He answered her as he resumed digging, occasionally sifting through large chunks of fallen rock. “Two dreamstones of that type are better than one, you see? When the two are brought together and drenched in the River of Thought, they cause the one who holds them to become fully real. An Earthling, like you. He would be a Creator. He would therefore be able to control your world by giving tormenting dreams to all of Earth, once the Fren of this world have been Forgotten.”
Nola dropped her digging stone and stared, open-mouthed, at Curbie. Her shock and horror were becoming one and the same. This new information was a knife in her heart.
Curbie continued, oblivious to her expression. “That is what all of these creatures are looking for, you see? We all want to be free. We all want to be the one to be freed, you see?”
Nola noticed that a guard was looking in her direction. He had noticed that she was not digging. She immediately turned back to the deepening hole and dug at the wall.
This was awful! If Reility got hold of the other stone, not only would her friends die, but so would Kafka. So would Earth. Just as she had feared all along. They would have no hope at all, no faith, no reason to live. Earth would be full of killers and suicidal people.
What could she do? She knew. She must find the twin stone and recover her cross. She had to stop Reility. Still there was the question: How?
Mich’s arms were numbing from all the digging he had done. His body ached and he longed to lie down on the cave floor and rest. He was not quite sure how long he had been in this dark tunnel, but he was sure that it was at least five hours. He was very hungry and had not gotten anything when the meal was served. The creatures that shared his cave ate every crumb in a matter of seconds.
His new friend, Curbia, was tiring also. She was very determined to find the twin stone and free her brother. She was digging in a tunnel adjacent to his and he could see that she was slowing. He threw a pebble in her direction, jolting her to keep awake. He was afraid that if she fell that she'd be killed, or worse, converted. She yiped when the pebble hit her and she resumed her digging. It seemed cruel, but she had asked him to do it, because the penalty exacted by the Fren would be worse if she faltered. She had approached him when he arrived, and helped him get adjusted. Her help had been invaluable, and now he was repaying her in what little ways he could.
The Fren began calling names and escorting the slave miners back to their cells. Mich continued to dig until his name was called. He was more than happy to stop. He felt like collapsing where he stood. His hands were beginning to blister from the constant friction of the rock wall rubbing against them.
Curbia and Mich were forced back into their cell, along with four others, consisting of a sow, a winged badger, a goat with six horns—one sticking from his chin like a beard—and some sort of creature that seemed to be all teeth, except for a pair of fairylike wings.
Mich leaned his back against the wall, putting his head between his knees. His body was so tired that he was instantly taken by a restful numbness. All except his stomach, which growled continuously.
He was awakened in what seemed like only a moment. Curbia’s red, spotted paw was on his head.
“Mich,” she whispered. “You’ve got to come round! The meal will be delivered soon.”
Mich groaned pitifully and tried, in vain, to brush away her persistent paw.
“Come, you must be aware! You need to eat. You must keep strong for your love. When she comes for you, you must be prepared to help her and you cannot if you are weary and starved, you see?”
Mich knew she was right. He fought the temptation of rest, and rose. He took a position with Curbia near the door to wait, along with the others. He was hungry enough to eat even the slop that would be thrown in to them. Everyone was tensing, ready to scramble, as soon as the plate appeared.
“I wonder where she is now,” he said, watching the door. “I hope she is okay. I wish Kafka wasn’t treating her this way. This used to be such a beautiful place. I wish I knew what went wrong.”
“If it will help you any, I will ask my brother to keep his eyes open,” Curbia said consolingly. “He asked me to help you, because you were processed when he was and he knew you would be confused.”
At that moment, the door unlocked and swung open. The plate was heaved in and there was the normal chaos.
Mich was thrown aside and trampled by the toothy-fairy, then the goat. There were hands reaching and voices screeching. In a flurry of fur and tails, the food was gone and the plate was being licked clean by the goat.
When he finally looked around, he saw Curbia fighting the badger for half a lump of bread. Mich helped her drive the badger off and she happily shared her moldy prize with him. His stomach calmed down a bit now that it had something to work on other than itself.
“What about your other friend, Tina?” Curbia asked after she had finished her bread. “Is she a Creator also?”
“Yes. But for some reason, only my love can use the magic dreamstone to create magic.”
“I see. So she is the only one who can destroy the dam, because it is magic in nature.”
“That is true, but Tina is needed also, as are all Creators. The Volant told us that we must bring all the Creators here to help.”
Curbia placed a paw on his knee and looked at him with dark gray eyes. “I want you to know, Mich, that I am loyal only to Kafka. Most of these creatures are loyal only to their own hides.” She cast an irate glance around the cell. “I promise to help in any way I can, you see? Even give my life.”
Mich did not feel right about getting the poor bitch into this mess, but he could say nothing. He was grateful to her. If she weren’t here, he would most definitely starve. He hoped she would be reunited with her brother before anything happened to him.
“Now we have a few hours to rest before our next shift begins,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Next shift?” Mich asked, chagrined. Curbia did not answer, but simply placed her tail across her muzzle and tucked in her hind legs.
Mich had not expected another shift in the same night (or day, whichever time it was). He shrugged; after all, it was the Fren they were slaving for.
Having taken a spot near the door, he nestled his head into a crook between the door and the wall. His body was ready, and his senses dulled until he was in full repose, which he needed badly.
When it was time for the next shift, Mich still felt he needed rest. His limbs were aching, but the Fren forced him into the mines once again. They were put to work in the same tunnels as before.
He sighed as he picked up a rock. “There must be some way,” he mumbled.
He heard the rock to his left crumbling. He looked closely. The rock seemed to be falling away from the wall. He saw a glistening black nose poke through the wall. It was Curbia.
“Listen,” she whispered. “While we rested, I spoke with Curbie. He has a friend, a human girl. He believes her to be the one you seek. That is why he had me help you; I did not realize before. Is her name Nola?”
Mich’s heart leaped up to his throat. He swallowed hard. “Yes! That’s her! She is with your brother? How is she?”
&
nbsp; “Stay calm,” she whispered. “We do not want to draw unwanted attention. Give me a moment.”
He heard her resume digging. Mich did the same, but kept his ears open for her next words.
“He says she is fine. She is tired, worn out, and her ankle is paining her, but she is doing better now that she knows you are okay. She says not to worry and to tell you she loves you.”
Mich smiled for the first time since coming to the mines. “Tell her I love her and I’ll find some way to get her out of this.”
“I think she knows that already.” She looked around his tunnel. “Dig in that direction,” she said, indicating it with her nose.
“Why?”
“I sniff something interesting. If you find any deep-blue stone, save a piece for me.”
“Anything to please a friend.”
Mich was happy to learn that Curbia’s brother was with Nola and that she still endured. He was worried for her. He hoped he could fulfill his promise to find her a way out. He tried to remain confident that things would work out.
Digging became a little easier now that his attitude had been uplifted. He made great progress and the tunnel began to deepen. Near the end of the next shift, his eyes were straining so much in the darkness that his head ached. He wished he had some healing spice. He suddenly got an idea.
“Curbia, please get a message to Nola,” he spoke through the hole.
Curbia’s nose appeared. “Yes, of course; what is it?”
“Tell her to create some healing spice for her ankle. It’ll take away her aches and pains as well.”
She nodded once and her head disappeared again. Then it reappeared. “Have you found any unusual stone?”