The Broken Knife

Something was going on in the city above, and Kyla didn’t even want to know what it was. Mei had stopped foraging for metal and other edibles, and was now hunkered against Kyla’s leg, whiskers quivering every time the tunnel shook around them.

Frankly, it was terrifying. Every kobold knew that tunnels only shook right before they collapsed. If you were fortunate enough to get any warning at all, the best thing to do was run. But Kyla couldn’t. The round passage had finally widened enough for her to stand up. Going back would not only take her closer to whatever was making the terrible booming sounds, but require that she return to the awkward belly-crawl that had seemed to last an eternity.

Reaching down, she carefully caressed Mei’s delicate ears, taking comfort from the touch of her fur and the warmth of her body. That fur might not be as soft as a kobold’s, feeling as much like fine wire as hair, but it was familiar by now, while everything else was so, so strange.

“Why did I come here?” Kyla whimpered softly as Mei’s whiskers tickled her palm. But she knew the answer. She’d thought she was ready. Thought the adults were being overprotective. Thought it would be an adventure. Thought she knew better.

“I should have stayed home,” she whispered, daring to lean down and lift Mei into her arms. Usually the fuergar asked to be picked up by standing on her back legs and setting her front paws on Kyla’s knees. The rodent had made it quite clear that she wanted to be the one to decide how close she got to Kyla and when, but Kyla needed the reassurance of physical contact. Perhaps Mei did too, because she didn’t protest or attempt to wiggle free.

The tunnel shook again, causing dust and pebbles to fall through Kyla’s flame-light. It flickered, but didn’t go out, and she felt a small surge of pride. She was strong, or so Ija said, but she’d never been particularly good at controlling her power. Her flame burned too bright, too hot, or went out when she forgot to think about it.

After spending so much time listening to Lianhua and Kaz talk about ‘ki’ and ‘mana’, however, she thought she was finally getting better. She was fairly certain that the problem was actually that she was too strong, and that made it difficult to learn the fine control that seemed to come naturally to other females. It was, perhaps, also why she was able to use her ancestor’s technique of surrounding herself with heated air in order to disappear, and she would willingly trade that for everything else.

Now Mei did wiggle, and Kyla reluctantly released her. The fuergar darted to the shadowy tunnel ahead before looking back at Kyla and squeaking insistently.

Kyla wrinkled her nose. “I can’t,” she told the rodent. The smell hadn’t been that much worse than the upper city until they reached a junction a little ways ahead. At that point, several tunnels dropped from above, and the aroma of waste had become overwhelming.

It was at that point that Kyla finally realized where she was. This was the waste crevice, or at least part of it. Rather than using natural openings, the humans had created their own, which was honestly quite ingenious. Unfortunately, rather than filtering through the softer stone, it seemed that the tunnels were guiding it all somewhere, and as it collected, it grew more and more noxious.

Mei squeaked again, even louder this time, as another echoing THUD made the small space shake. The fuergar was trembling, her whiskers little more than a blur. She was terrified, and only the fact that Kyla refused to follow her was keeping her there. How much longer would it be before a fuergar’s natural instinct to flee took over, and Kyla lost her forever?

Kyla gritted her teeth. She was a Magmablade. Her mother’s actions might have cost her tribe their place, but no one could take away the honor of that name. Magmablades didn’t run. In fact, for generations, they had been the first to fight when some beast or monster made its way into the Deep. Magmablades were never cowards, and they did what they had to do, no matter how distasteful.

Pulling up the robe Lianhua had given her, Kyla used her sharp claws to tear off a strip, tying it tightly around her nose. She wished she had a storage device, like the humans and her cousin, but she still had her pack, so she dug through it until she found a clump of jejing. Tugging a small piece free, she stuffed it between her nose and the cloth, drawing in a deep breath. It required an uncomfortable amount of effort, but the strong, clean smell of the moss covered most of the stench that lingering in her nostrils.

“All right,” she said, voice oddly muffled by the cloth. She actually gave a little yip of laughter which turned into a squeak of her own when the tunnel shook around her. An artificial stone cracked above her, and the whole tunnel seemed to lean in toward that weakness, as if waiting for the next tremor before it failed.

That was all the impetus she needed to follow Mei.

They passed the noisome tunnels, even Mei clinging to the far side of the larger passage as they passed the stinking openings, and went on for what seemed like hours. The passages grew larger, then narrower again, sometimes going up, and other times going down. It was sometimes impossible to avoid the disgusting results of so many humans living above them, but then there would be a wider tunnel with relatively clean water in it, where she could rinse her paws.

The bricks surrounding them changed. They grew noticeably wider, the tunnels larger, and while the accumulated filth that crusted them was thicker, it also seemed older. Even through the scent of jejing, Kyla could tell that the smell was mustier, less fresh, and sometimes it was clear enough that she wondered if they were even still in the city.

They left the worst of the noises and the shaking behind, though whatever was happening certainly hadn’t stopped. Muffled explosions or hard impacts of some kind still reached her sensitive ears, but the vibrations in the earth were no longer enough to cause more than the occasional shower of something falling from overhead.

Mei paused, as if uncertain. The fuergar had been such a confident guide up to now that Kyla would have believed she’d been here before, if that wasn’t impossible. But now Mei stopped in a juncture of three tunnels, looking left and right. Kyla joined her.

The passage through which they’d been walking was one of the largest yet, but also the emptiest. Only a thin trickle of fluid coated the ground, easy enough to avoid. The tunnel to the left, on the other hand, went down and held a wider stream, while the one to the right sloped gently upward and was relatively clear.

Something dripped from overhead, narrowly missing Kyla’s ear, and she jerked back. Looking up, she realized that there was another opening overhead. The sides of it were coated in slime, which was creating the flow downwards.

“Right it is,” Kyla said, edging around the opening. She most definitely didn’t want whatever that was on her head. It was bad enough that she already had some on her paws. Mei still hesitated, but when Kyla started up the rightmost passage, the fuergar followed.

=+=+=+=

If it weren’t for the noises and the smells, Kyla definitely would have noticed the humans before she stumbled over them. As it was, she literally stepped on an outstretched leg before stumbling back with a loud yelp.

Two voices answered hers, one exclaiming while the other groaned. Kyla’s light flared as her heart thudded in her chest, revealing two bedraggled human females crouching in an alcove ahead and to the left. One of them had long, tangled hair that was almost as pink as Kyla’s fur, while the other had curly hair almost as red as Raff’s. She also held a knife in a grip that said she knew how to use it.

Kyla’s shield snapped up instantly, her training taking over. She’d been holding her light for a long time though, and she was tired, so it only protected her from the front, rather than surrounding her completely.

Mei drew back as well, clinging to the edges of shadow as she set her paws and bared her coppery teeth. The fuergar was ready to fight, at least for a while, and Kyla felt a warm flush as she realized that it would have been far easier for the rodent to turn tail and run.

The red-furred - haired - female’s eyes were wide and wild, taking in everything about Kyla, but lingering especially long on her once-pretty robes. The hand holding the knife was steady, though, and Kyla doubted she would hesitate if she needed to use it.

“What are you?” she demanded. Her voice held as much wonder as fear when she added, “Did you come from the incursion?”

Kyla wasn’t sure what an incursion was, or whether it would be better to lie and say that she had come from one. Instead of answering, she offered her name.

“I’m Kyla,” she told them, and they both started, eyes growing impossibly wider.

“What’s that?” The darker one asked, gesturing toward Mei with the tip of her knife.

Kyla felt her lips peel away from her teeth at the threatening gesture. She edged over until her paw was between the fuergar and the strangers, and felt their eyes fix on the shape of it. No, she was no human, as if there could have been any doubt.

“That’s Mei,” Kyla said, voice holding a challenging growl. “She’s my-” What? Pet? Kyla still didn’t truly understand what that meant. “Friend.”

The paler female whimpered softly, her hand going to her side. There was a knife at her waist, but she made no attempt to pull it from its sheath. Instead, she pressed her palm against her ribs. There was a dark, spreading stain on the fabric there, and Kyla felt her lips lower, covering her teeth, as she realized that the female was injured. Of course, that didn’t make her or her companion any less dangerous, but somehow Kyla didn’t think they wanted to hurt her.

The red-haired female glanced back at the pink one, biting her lower lip. In that moment, she was all but defenseless, and she never would have dodged in time if Kyla had blasted her with a bolt of power. Had she even been trained to fight? Kyla thought yes, but not nearly enough.

“I have jejing,” Kyla offered cautiously, dipping one shoulder to show the strap of her pack. “It would keep the wound from making her sick.”

The first female’s eyes brightened before narrowing again. “I don’t know that medicine. And I don’t know you. Just… go away, and leave us alone, and I won’t,” she swallowed hard, “have to kill you.”

Kyla’s eyes narrowed in turn, and she flicked her wrist, sending a bolt of power - more light than force - scattering against the wall behind the females. Pointing up at her light, she said, “I’m a,” what was the word Raff used? “mage, and I can kill you anytime I want to.”

An exaggeration, especially given how little power she had left after that mostly symbolic warning blow. Kyla knew perfectly well that she should do exactly as the female had told her, and leave without looking back. But she was alone, and for some reason these humans were here, and they hadn’t tried to kill her yet, were instead talking to her, and they had to have some idea how to get out of this place, and-

The pink-haired female held up her red-stained hand, and a steady ball of light formed above it. “I’m a mage, too,” she said, her voice breathy as she tried not to move her ribs, “and I can make a much bigger mana-bolt than that.”

Can, but didn’t. Wouldn’t or couldn’t? Slowly, Kyla slid her paw back, nudging against Mei, who skittered away, though she didn’t quite run. Kyla lowered her shoulder again, allowing her pack to slide down one arm. Both humans stiffened, but neither moved to attack.

Dropping the bag to the ground with a soft thump, Kyla crouched and opened it. She looked away from the two deliberately, showing vulnerability, though she strengthened her shield as she did so. If they were going to go for her, it would be now.

They didn’t. Instead, they watched as Kyla pulled out the packet containing the jejing. Opening it, she pulled another clump out, removed the one she’d tied across her nostrils, and exchanged it for the fresh one. Giving an exaggerated sniff, she then placed a tiny amount in her mouth, grimacing at the flavor. As clean and sharp as the moss smelled, it tasted bitter. It was technically edible, but no one ate it.

Kyla chewed, then swallowed, trying not to gag. She followed the jejing by pouring a stream of stale water from one of the niu bladders from her pack. For once, the flavor of the water was better than what she already had in her mouth. Both females watched with envious eyes.

Holding up the bladder and the moss, Kyla said, “We can clean and care for the wound, or I can go. Which will it be?”

Silence hung between them before the red-haired female lowered her knife with a sigh. She didn’t return it to its sheath, but they all knew that the pink-haired female was at least as dangerous, even without a weapon in her hand. A blade was a worthy weapon, and could be wielded when power was gone, but in the first flush of battle, a female with power was the greater threat. The question was, how much power did the injured human have?

Holding out her empty hand, the first female said, “Give them here. I’ll do it.”

Kyla held onto the jejing, but passed over the water. Both females drank, water trickling from the corners of their mouths, creating furrows in the dirt that darkened their skin. Beneath it, the pink-haired female was nearly as pale as Lianhua, though some of that might have been a result of blood loss. The other female only changed shades of brown, and Kyla tilted her head, remembering what Raff had said about how rare that color was here.

In Kyla’s experience, fur color ran in families. Parents with black fur had puppies with black fur. If a female with black fur took a white-furred mate, their pups could be black, white, or gray. If this female had skin the same color as Raff’s, and that color was rare, what were the odds that they were completely unrelated to each other?

She remembered the tiny picture of Raff’s sister that she’d seen in the cave where Kaz traded his kobold shape for a human one. That had been a poor trade overall, in Kyla’s opinion. The small image of a female who looked like the large, intimidating human male was actually more interesting. Kyla had spent some time using her claws to try sketching pictures of Ija and their father, Rudu. Both pictures looked exactly the same, and nothing at all like their intended subjects.

But this female? She looked exactly like the picture of Raff’s sister. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that the picture looked exactly like her.

“Jinn?” Kyla asked, eyes wide. She looked at the other female. “Reina?”

In an instant, Jinn’s blade was pointed at Kyla’s throat.