Through Stone and Sea - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,18

from what her sages called the Forgotten, a history so long lost that its fragments were bread crumbs scattered across a desert plain. When he had taken all she gained for him, he would feed on her little life, a morsel tasted before a lavish feast.

But first he must learn where she was going and why.

Wynn struggled to lead the way down the tunnel. The throng thinned as people finished their passing barters, but more were coming out than going in. She tried to hug the tunnel’s high wall as she waded against the flow. When the way branched off in a gradual curve, she glanced back, making certain she hadn’t lost Chane. Then Wynn stumbled out into another wide cavern.

It wasn’t nearly as large as the market’s, but she still pulled up short.

In place of columns and crowds, two tunnels the width of three roads took off into the mountain’s depths. One bore nearly southward, its destination likely Chekiuní, “Point-Side.” The other aimed more west by southwest, and that had to be to Sea-Side.

Two wide and long platforms in the cavern were made of stout wood planks and timbers like the docks of a harbor. Each aimed toward one tunnel, and triple sets of twined, steel-lined ruts in the granite floor ran from each platform into a tunnel’s mouth. One of each trio was wider than the others, likely for a cargo-only tram.

At the Point-Side platform, a few dwarves and a single human in gentleman’s attire waited to board.

Shade tried to back up, pulling on Wynn’s grip as her grumble rose into a whine.

“Odsúdýnjè!” Chane cursed in his native Belaskian as he scowled at a string of open-sided cars.

“Would you two rather walk over the mountain?” Wynn returned.

She was getting fed up with their reluctance for dwarven travel, though she was a little doubtful herself. The trams were basically a long string of connected cars constructed of solid wood. Painted in tawny and jade tones, they rode upon steel-and-iron undercarriages, their thick iron wheels shod with steel. Rows of benches faced ahead inside each car, separated by a narrow walkway down the center length. Passengers were protected on the outside by waist-high rail walls. Each car was roofed, but only their fronts contained a full wall and a door, probably to break rushing winds once the tram gained speed.

A wide and paunched dwarf in a plain leather hauberk stood with his feet spread slightly on the platform. He cupped his mouth with gnarled hands, shouting, “Maksag Chekiuní-da!” and then repeated in Numanese—“Leaving for Point-Side!” He then trundled along the platform, shooing scant passengers into the cars.

Wynn didn’t watch him long. No sooner had the last passenger settled when a cloud of steam billowed around the tram’s lead car, making it impossible to see clearly. She barely made out its front, which seemed to end in a point. She saw that much only because it glowed.

Within the steam cloud, its front point burned like one of the massive pylon crystals. But it seemed larger still, more cleanly lined, and it pulsed in a slow rise and fall of light. A sharp explosion of steam belched from the lead car’s undercarriage, and the glow brightened to a steady, hot yellow that hurt Wynn’s eyes.

The tram’s whole chain of cars inched forward with a metallic scrape of wheels along the ruts. In moments, it picked up the speed of a trotting horse. As it bore into the tunnel, the sharp glow at its lead end lit the way, and Wynn heard its wheels’ rhythm building steadily. As it vanished from sight, her mouth went dry.

Chane stood staring after it as well.

“Some arcane engine,” he whispered. “And the pylon lights in the street and cavern. Do dwarves engage in thaumaturgy through artificing?”

Wynn struggled for an answer. “Something like it. Domin Tilswith explained it more in terms of the dwarves’ innate connection to the element of Earth. But he was rather evasive. I don’t think he fully understood it himself.”

Watching after the vanished tram, Wynn felt Shade grow silent in quivering, as if too frightened to even whine. She stroked the dog’s back, suddenly realizing what an ordeal this journey would be for Shade—underground, away from natural day and night, surrounded by masses of people, and traveling in such unnatural ways.

“We need that one,” Wynn said, pointing and heading off toward the other platform. “Shirvêsh Mallet believes High- Tower’s family resides below Sea-Side. If we can find them, we might find his brother .