with Grauer. How typical of him to not trust others with copies.
What will we do now? She felt a moment’s apprehension, but it quickly faded. Most of the larger tunnels in the mines led toward the main entrance. It hadn’t been the original miners’ intentions to create a maze, after all. The smaller tunnels, which had followed veins of minerals, and the natural cave systems were less predictable, but so long as the army kept out of them it would eventually find its way out.
One of the team stepped forward. “We should be able to navigate by memory; we all spent considerable time here last year.”
Imenja nodded. “Then concentrate on remembering. I will call a few Servants forward to check for traps.”
Though the Thinkers all nodded graciously, Reivan saw signs of indignation in their manner. They weren’t stupid or proud enough to refuse sorcerous help and she supposed they had also realized the Servants would share the blame if anything worse happened. Even so, the two Servants who stepped forward were ignored.
Hitte volunteered to lead and none of the others contested him. The hole was inspected and found to be a wide crack in the floor, ceiling and walls, but narrow enough to leap over. A litter was brought forward to use as a bridge, its burden strapped to the backs of already overladen slaves. The Thinkers crossed and the army followed.
Reivan guessed she was not the only one to find this slow pace frustrating. They were so close to the end of their journey through the mountains. The mines on the Hanian side were smaller and had brought them up to an otherwise inaccessible valley used by gowt-herders. A longer journey through large natural caves had avoided the necessity of climbing over a steep ridge. From there they had travelled for a day along narrow mountain trails. When passing this section on the way to battle they had travelled at night so the enemy’s flying spies would not discover them.
Now they had only to find their way through these mines on the Sennonian side of the mountains and…
What? Our troubles are over? Reivan sighed. Who knows what awaits us in Sennon. Will the emperor send an army to finish us off? Will he have to? We have few supplies left, and there’s the Sennon desert to cross yet.
She had never felt so far from home.
For a while she lost herself in early memories: of sitting in her father’s forge shop, of helping her brothers build things. Skipping the brief time of hurt and betrayal after being given to the Servants, she remembered the relish with which she had learned to read and write, and how she had read all of the books in the monastery library before she was ten. She had fixed everything from plumbing to robes, invented a machine for scraping leather and a recipe for drimma conserve that earned the Sanctuary more money than all other monastery produce put together.
Reivan’s foot caught on something and she almost lost her balance. She looked up and was surprised to see that the ground ahead was uneven. Hitte had taken them into the natural tunnels. She looked at the new leader of the Thinkers, noting the careful confidence of his movements.
I hope he knows what he’s doing. He seems to know what he’s doing. Oh, for the Voices’ ability to read minds.
She remembered Imenja and felt a flush of guilt. Instead of staying alert and useful she had lapsed into reverie. From now on she would pay attention.
Unlike the tunnels higher up in the mountains, which were straight and wide, these were narrow and twisted. They turned not just left and right, but rose up and down, often sharply. The air was growing ever more moist and heavy. Several times Imenja called for a stop so that Servants had time to draw fresher air down into these depths.
Then, quite abruptly, the walls of the tunnel widened and Imenja’s light illuminated an enormous cavern.
Reivan drew in a quick breath. All around were fantastic pale columns, some as thin as a finger, others wider than the ancient trees of Dekkar. Some had joined to form curtains, others had broken, and mushroom-like tops had formed over their stumps. Everything glistened with moisture.
Looking over her shoulder, Reivan saw that Imenja was smiling. The Second Voice walked past the Thinkers and into the cavern, gazing up at the formations.
“We will rest here for a while,” she announced. Her smile faded and she looked at