The Paths Beneath Usby BlazzingInfernoChaptersOneTwoThreeFourOne“Of course it isn’t safe,” Mica quipped, “it’s a mine. Accidents happen, Ami. They happen all the time.” The hair brush slid through Mica’s brown curls, its quiet shushing the only thing left to fill the silence. Of course accidents happened, and of course Ami knew that. Ami stood in the entryway, her milky white eyes practically glowing in the candlelight, her lips downturned in a pout, and her ears poised for Mica’s imminent apology. At least that’s how Mica imagined the scene behind her. She wouldn’t turn around and look. She wouldn’t do what she normally did: face her twin sister, sigh in defeat, say she didn’t mean it, and promise everything would be fine. That oft-repeated promise died one month and two days ago. Instead her gaze drifted to the wooden dresser in front of her, its drawers open and their contents askew. Everything from their hair band collection to their mother’s prized brooch stared up at her through a thin layer of rock dust. Candlelight danced on the polished wood, the effect almost mirror-like compared to the rough-hewn stone that comprised almost every other surface in sight. She could still remember their mother’s fond whispers about the dresser, about how their father had single-hoofedly mined his weight in diamonds just to buy her a wedding present fit for ‘the jenny of his dreams,’ and about how she’d nearly convinced him to sell it back to the diamond dogs that’d carried it all this way. They couldn’t afford it, she’d said. What would they do with it, she’d said. Mica nudged one of the lower drawers closed with her back hoof. Staring at the remains of their family’s prized possessions, those they hadn’t sold for food, was even worse than apologizing for stating the obvious: from here on out, putting food on the table required hard, dangerous work. That was how their parents had lived. That was how everybody else lived. Still, she had no intention of living in silence. “Do you want a bow for your hair?” Ami’s slight voice drifted over from the other side of their cave, most likely from atop their parents' straw bed. Mica couldn’t fathom why she spent so much time there, and didn’t want to ask. “We’re going to have to wear hard hats anyway.” Mica slid her foreleg along her curls and rolled her eyes. “Yes, but… that’s no excuse for not taking care of yourself. I’m wearing one… and one in my tail, too! A pretty one!” If I get crushed in a cave-in, at least they’ll know it’s me, she thought. “You’re just trying to distract the jacks.” “Am not! And don’t forget we get to carry around big heavy pickaxes and hammers; if some dumb boy can’t keep his eyes on his work, I’ll—” Ami chuckled. “Yes, yes, everybody knows that. If I had a topaz for every time you threatened somebody’s ability to chew solid foods…” Mica closed another drawer, this time much harder. “Then we wouldn’t be stuck putting on hard hats.” Ami’s hooves echoed through the room. A moment later she was by Mica’s side, feeling for and then kneading her shoulder. “When I asked before about it being safe, and about the jacks… I was trying to be funny. I’m sorry.” Mica tensed for a moment, not even wanting her muscles to be pacified. That moment ended when she looked up at her sister’s warm smile and sightless yet affectionate gaze. “Me too.” “Everything’s going to be fine,” Ami whispered. “You can’t know that.” Ami nodded. “True.” Mica sniffed as she looked at their reflections in the dresser’s surface: hers all hard lines like their father, Ami’s soft and glowing like their mother. “Then why say it?” Ami ceased the massage, leaned in, and gave a strand of Mica’s hair a sharp tug with her teeth. “One of these things makes you feel better than the other, don’t you think?” “I’d still rather have a pickaxe and something to swing it at.” “We’d better get going, then.” All the typical sounds of life echoed through the cavern as the morning commute trudged on: jacks and jennys of every age emerging from the honeycomb of caves, most on their way to the mines with hard hats and tools or to the market with a sack full of gems to spend. Mica fell into the second line, albeit with Ami beside her instead of a money pouch. Her hooves scraped against the pathway’s ridged edge, the border between the well-worn path and the cavern’s rougher, expansive nothingness reserved for children at play and adults with somber business. She glared at the circle of knee-height stones in the shadows, the communal meeting spot where they’d gotten the news, where the half-dead souls who’d escaped the cave-in stood solemnly to present their still-breathing, still-breadwinning selves to their families and to allow those who hadn’t been so lucky to be accounted for. “Are we close to the palace?” Ami whispered. “Don’t call it that,” Mica replied. “It’s just a big, stone… thing.” “A big stone thing with arched doorways—” “Yes.” “And fifty steep steps just to reach the front gate.” “Yes.” “And fourteen living chambers—” Mica thrust a leg toward the massive edifice approaching on their right, her hoof barely missing Ami’s nose. “Yes! Yes, fine we’re getting close.” Her eyes traced all the details that Ami only knew by touch: the long line of steps from the cavern floor, the courtyard guarded by pillared arches, the oil lamps burning in every high window, and the time-worn geometric carvings wrapping around every edge from the smallest of steps to the grandest of doorways. Its bright firelight reached the furthest recesses of the cavern and well into Mica and Ami’s own cave. At this time of the morning, the chatter and clatter of the market within the courtyard reached further still. Such was the monster that watched over the cavern, marking day and night with its oil lamps, and holding all commerce in its clutches. “It’s still not a palace,” Mica murmured. “Our ancestors found it way back at the beginning of time, back when donkeys and diamond dogs joined up to work the deep mines. It was just a big empty building then, and that’s what it still is. Maybe it used to be a palace, but now it’s just where you go to buy vegetables and whatever junk the dogs haul in from the surface.” “Who knows, maybe a king and queen lived there ages ago and ruled all the caves we call home.” Mica rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all poetic. You sound like… Mom.” Choking out the last word took some effort. “I’ll stop.” Ami whispered. “No… No, don’t. I’m sorry I’m being so… me. Storytelling sure beats thinking about today.” Ami nudged her again, this time onto the fork in the path leading to the market. “I won’t say there’s nothing to worry about, but we’ll get by if we stick together. Oh, here comes just the dog we need!” Mica turned to look and, a moment later, heard Max’s thumping gait and jingling merchandise. The diamond dog paced alongside the market path with a collection of necklaces held high, his voice ringing with a friendly enthusiasm that his giant form could barely contain. He smiled down at the donkeys he passed, waving hello and presenting the necklaces all at once. “See what I’ve brought you! Sweet-smelling rosewood, cedar, and pine! The finest charms made from the finest of woods, fresh from the surface!” Ami’s hoof went up. “Max! Over here!” Max’s shadow enveloped them in an instant, and an instant after that the scents of oiled wood and unwashed dog assaulted them. “Amicite! Mica! For you the first smell is free.” He leaned down and whispered loudly enough for half the cavern to overhear. “I save the very best for the very prettiest, you know.” Mica sighed as he flicked through the necklace collection, stepping aside so Ami could bear the full brunt of the stench and the ‘prettiest’ title that went along with it. “We’ve got too much jewelry already, Max. We need tools: hard hats, pickaxes, all the usual stuff.” Max’s smile faltered. “Going in the little gem tunnels?” Ami nodded and batted away the necklaces with a friendly smile. “Little for diamond dogs, perhaps. Mica and I… we’ll manage.” “Not you too, Ami. How will you—” Mica stamped her hoof. “We need to work for a living, same as everybody else.” Ami shot her a look, brief but piercing. “We appreciate your concern, but please just sell us the tools, Max.” Seconds passed while Max’s necklaces swayed in his grasp and Mica seethed in spite of her own better judgement. She couldn’t keep doing this, raging at anybody who dared bring up the obvious: parents or no, they needed to eat. Neighborhood charity kept them afloat for a while, as did selling off a few creature comforts and mementos. Now came their first day of adulthood, a few years earlier than planned and all the more crucial. In her nicest voice, which wasn’t that different, she joined Ami’s plea. “We know the usual arrangement: a third of all the gems we mine are yours until our tools are paid off. Please help us earn a living. We’ll even… we’ll even save up and buy a necklace or two.” A couple necklaces would be cheaper than making their start with a less reputable dog with worse loan terms. At last Max nodded. “My pack brother sells tools. Good ones. I’ll just go and… here, these come with the deal.” He dropped two necklaces on the ground and bounded off before they could protest. Mica watched him take the stairs to the market two at a time, sorely tempted to shout after him but unsure of what to say that even bordered on friendly. They didn’t need fancy necklaces, and chances were they’d just get in the way. “Come on, we’d better follow him and return these.” Ami ran each necklace along her cheek and gave it a deep sniff. “Mmm. I suppose we must.” “You can be a jewelry snob when we’re not poor. Come on.” The sounds of the market grew louder as they ascended the stairs, building and building from the cavern’s daily background noise to a near cacophony by the time they entered into the courtyard. Merchandise-laden carpets formed a series of aisles, each one brimming with customers, and each one guarded by a dog or donkey shopkeeper preemptively haggling with anybody who made eye contact. Darkness peeked over shoulder-height walls on three sides of the courtyard, simultaneously setting it apart from the world and adding to the already imposing nature of the gateway on the fourth side: the cavern wall, this section chiseled smooth and covered in triangular patterns, gave way to a rectangular hall that stretched into the distance but not into darkness. Lit torches lined its smooth walls, the brightest sight Mica had ever glimpsed, and also the most garish. Why did the rich ones need all that light? Just because they took home the biggest chunk of all the market’s profits didn’t mean they were too good for darkness. Too good for the mines, perhaps, but not for something so basic as the absence of light. If Ami had to go a lifetime without light, they could stand to douse those expensive fires once in a while. “Come on, Mica. Don’t bother the well-to-dos.” Mica rolled her eyes and followed Ami down one of the less busy aisles. “How’d you know?” Ami swished her tail just enough to tickle Mica’s nose. “The same way I can find my way to Max’s place: familiarity.” “Hey, I’m the one who did the shopping with Dad, how come you know the market so well?” “Who do you think bought the bows you’re wearing? I went with Mom all the time.” “Oh.” “I wasn’t about to sit in our cave all day, while the rest of you had all the—“ A chorus of “Hi Ami” broke through the general din, and Ami waved a foreleg at all present. “Hello.” Mica lowered her head and sped up. “Hmph.” “Indeed.” Merchants drifted by on either side, largely unnoticed by Mica unless they accosted Ami to buy something. They’d left the food sellers behind minutes ago, and with them the market she knew. Now as they passed chairs, knives, jewelry, pots, and everything else non-edible, the only way left to keep her bearings involved sidelong glances at the walls and other visible landmarks. She didn’t like feeling lost. No prospective miner did. “How much further?” Max’s unmistakable voice answered her from the very corner of the market on the left. “Aww, you didn’t have to come all the way up here. I’ve got almost all your stuff ready. I just need… hmm, let’s see.” Mica stepped around Ami and took in the spread of tools laid out on the stone floor. It wasn’t as impressive as Mom and Dad’s old gear, but all the basic necessities to turn back-breaking labor into a few shiny gems seemed to be accounted for. She slid her hoof along a pickaxe’s long handle. “One third of our haul until it’s all paid off, right?” Max turned from his rummaging in a crate and nodded with a big smile. “It’ll all be yours in no time.” “Oh yeah?” a much deeper voice replied. A second, larger dog came out of the shadows, his diamond-encrusted collar glinting in the torchlight. The collar alone put him a far step above Max and the tattered red scarf tied around his neck. At least that’s what Mica knew of about diamond dog social structure, that the first and most important mark of success was a jeweled collar. She’d never thought to ask more. Max scratched at his scarf and slid to the wall, his ears folding back, his tail ducking down, and his smile growing thin. “They’re good for it, Pogo! They’ll work hard!” Pogo leaned down and matched Mica’s stern gaze, nose to nose. “They’re scrawny.” “Like he said,” Mica replied with all the coolness she could muster, “we’ll work hard. Either we bring back gems or we starve.” “Starving’s cheap. Tools ain’t.” Ami cleared her throat. “We are rather small, Mr. Pogo, but that just means we can fit in tighter spaces than most. We can work parts of the mines that others can’t, parts that aren’t as picked over.” Pogo flicked an ear towards Ami, but that was all. “A third of your haul… but you’re only getting one headlamp. That’s all you need anyway.” Ami shouted “Deal,” before Mica could shout something else. TwoPebbles skittered into the darkness beyond the headlamp’s reach. Mica paused as she listened to them vanish into the void, her hooves holding on as best they could to the few footholds the narrow tunnel offered as it dove downward into the unknown. The mine’s main thoroughfare and all its signs of light and life lay hours behind them, and their current prospect still remained far ahead. Supposedly the gem deposits near the end of this tunnel hadn’t been touched in years simply because of how narrow the passage became, narrow enough that only a couple of underaged, undersized jennys could possibly fit. “Be there in no time,” she murmured. “That’d be Dad’s line right about now.” Behind her, Ami fidgeted with her saddlebag and, by the sound of things, took a long pull from her canteen between panting breaths. “That does… sound like… him.” “You’re going to be okay, right? This is the easy part, going downhill. The way back is all up with a load of gems.” Ami sighed. “I’ll manage.” Mica nodded, purely to herself, and trudged on. It wasn’t like the tunnel was wide enough for them to turn around, but keeping that quiet was probably best. The same went for how she was carrying most of the tools; Ami’s stamina left much to be desired. “Just think, tonight we’re eating whatever we want.” “Once we make our first loan payment.” “Yeah, yeah. Worst case we’ll trade Max’s necklaces for a quick meal. Or I guess you could just bat your eyelashes at him.” “That’s not funny.” “Hey, it’s not like I can do it. Unless we want him running away screaming.” “Don’t.” Ami’s words echoed off the walls. “Don’t mock your looks. Or mine.” Mica rolled her eyes. “I’m not mocking you! You’re the pretty one, Ami. Just because—” “I’m blind, not deaf. I’ve overheard plenty about how the both of us look. You’ve got your share of admirers, believe me.” “Oh yeah?” “Of course you do.” A minute passed in silence, save for the muted grind of hooves on stone and Mica’s thundering train of thought. “I, um…” “Do you want to know who—” “No. Well, maybe later when we’ve got time to think about boys.” Ami’s heavy breathing gave way to quiet, mirthless laughter. “Time. We’ve got plenty of… Do you hear that?” Only silence, deep and terrible, reached Mica’s ears. It couldn’t be another cave-in; they hadn’t even gotten their tools out yet, much less used them. The ceiling was low and featureless, so it couldn’t be falling rocks either. “What—” “Ssh! I’m listening.” Do it faster, Mica thought. Was this what Mom and Dad’s final moments were like? Behind her, Ami’s saddlebags scraped against the cave floor as she knelt down. “What’re you doing back there?” “There’s water! I can hear running water off to the left!” Water. For a second the meaning of the word didn’t even register. “Get out a pickaxe! If there’s an underground river there might be a whole other tunnel nobody’s ever touched!” “Right… the tools.” Mica’s saddlebags landed on the ground, and a minute later she had the pickaxe handle between her teeth, ready to take the first swing. She didn’t hear the clang of metal on rock or feel the sharp vibrations traveling through her jaw. That one moment of uncertainty still had her in its clutches, the sensation that they were about to perish just like their parents did, all for the sake of a few shiny rocks. Her neck ached by the tenth swing. How did mom and dad do this all day every day? Was she doing it wrong somehow? Still she swung again and again, chipping away at the wall in hopes that it brought them riches and not ruin. One wrong hit could end it all; she might’ve doomed them both already. Cracks snaked up the walls and, a few strikes later, whole chunks of rock fell away. Darkness and a quiet gurgling sound filled the empty places. “What did we find? What did we find?” Ami’s voice had gained a singsong quality that Mica couldn’t help smiling along with. Maybe things were finally going their way. She spat out the pickaxe and aimed her headlamp into one of the larger holes. The beam of light seemed to melt into the unyielding gloom. “There’s a whole lot of space over there. That’s about all I can—” Something impossible caught the light. In the midst of the opening she’d created was an unnaturally perfect straight line, a step carved into the rock by hoof, paw, or claw. “Ami,” Mica whispered, “you’re not going to believe this.” Breaking open a passage big enough to crawl through went quickly enough, at least by Mica’s reckoning. Her worries faded with each clang of the pickaxe and crumble of loosed rock. Light danced off of the rubble piling up on the ground, the clouds of dust her work released, and of course the polished stone step that practically demanded she work faster. “Don’t know what it is,” she said through a mouthful of pickaxe, “but it’s artificial! We’ve gotta check this out!” Within minutes Mica was on the other side, looking around in open-mouthed wonder. They’d tunneled through the middle of a very long staircase, its upper reaches buried under an ancient cave-in, and whatever lay below still beyond her headlamp’s reach. Faded triangular patterns lined the walls, broken only by regular outcroppings to hold torches. “Just like at the market.” Her own voice felt too loud for this ancient, forgotten place that bore too strong a resemblance to the building she refused to call a palace, save for its being untouched by modern hooves and unspoiled by the rich. Where did the staircase go? What happened to its creators? Pained grunts from her sister broke Mica out of her awestruck trance. She knelt down and helped Ami through the hole. “We’re on a staircase. The way up is buried, but there’s no telling what’s down below.” Ami shook off the rock dust and adjusted her saddle bags. “It’s colder on this side. It smells different, too. It’s… wet.” Mica hadn’t noticed any of this. Her every thought was with what she could see, and what she couldn’t. “Maybe there’s gold, or gems, or some really old thing that’s worth a fortune.” Ami cocked her head towards the stairs leading down. “The water sound is coming from that way.” “Then let’s go! Drinkable water would be a great find; we could have our tools paid off inside of a week! Aren’t you excited? It’s like we’re explorers!” All her childhood imaginings of how fun and exciting working the mine could be came flooding back. She would’ve been giddy if a few tiny diamonds fell out of the tunnel wall, and now she could barely keep herself from running. They’d done it; their first day in the mines came with a discovery so big and unexpected that it just had to have a big prize at its center. “Slow down so I can catch up!” Mica gasped and came to a halt; pure excitement had carried her down tens of steps already. “I-I’m sorry. Just… follow my voice. The steps are all the same height and there aren’t any breaks in them or anything, besides the one we made, anyway.” Ami trotted towards her, cautiously at first, while Mica’s brain caught up with her legs. “Take it easy. The last thing we want is to get lost… or worse.” Those last two words hit Mica square in the chest. She thought of the pile of boulders a few hundred feet up the stairs, and how their mom and dad were probably buried under one just like it. Suddenly she wasn’t excited anymore, not about their discovery, and definitely not about the dangerous road that led them to it. “Let’s just get this over with. All we need is something big enough to haul out.” Soon the staircase opened into a larger chamber, too large for a paltry headlamp to illuminate. All Mica could see were distant glimpses of stone buildings immense, tiny, elaborate, and plain. What she’d taken for a random staircase looked to be the gateway to a lost city, and yet wonder didn’t overtake her again. It was all big and beautiful, but what did it matter? Finding a vein of ruby or topaz would’ve left them better off. “Tell me what you see,” Ami whispered. “Not much… and why? It’s not like I see anything we can sell.” “Is the cavern big?” “Huge.” “Is it rough stone, or is everything carved? Is it one big building like the palace or—” “It doesn’t matter.” “It does to me!” Ami’s shout echoed off the distant walls. “You’re my closest thing to a working pair of eyes ever since…” Mica’s legs turned to ice. Ami drew up beside her, her voice quiet. “Every night Mom and I would… I’d ask her to describe everything. Everything. I can’t see but I love to know, to know her favorite stories, and what she did during the day, and the songs her mom used to sing. That’s all I’ve ever had since I wasn’t any good at the physical stuff you can do. If… if I could make money telling and retelling stories, we’d never have to work again, but I can’t so I guess I just need to s-stop d-dreaming and wake up.” They leaned against each other, momentarily sharing warmth and tears. “Sorry I’m a jerk,” Mica whispered, “and sorry that… that I was always off doing stuff with other kids instead of being a good sister. I should’ve brought you everywhere with me. I should’ve… I don’t even know.” “We’re just different. That shouldn’t be a bad thing.” “We’re still sisters! We’re twins, even! And from now on—” A pebble bounced in the distance, as quiet as a water droplet striking a puddle and yet unmistakable in this noiseless tomb. The sound came again and again as the pebble skittered closer, finally shooting between Ami’s legs on its way down the staircase. Mica didn’t breathe until the pebble came to rest and silence returned. A shiver shot up her spine moments later. “Let’s hurry up and get out of here.” “Sounds good.” Their steps were more careful now, each hoof fall slow and deliberate. Mica swiveled her ears around as best she could, but didn’t dare move her headlamp’s beam from the path ahead. She could see the bottom now, a flat patch of floor that looked perfectly safe and unremarkable. Water trickled somewhere nearby. Once they reached the bottom step she could see it: a small, burbling stream had eroded a jagged channel in the floor, passing through her tiny window of visual perception on its way downhill. Mica followed it with the light, more curious about where the water was going than where it came from. After another minute of walking she held up a foreleg to block Ami from going further. “Stop here. There’s a hole.” Calling it a hole didn’t do the precipice justice. The smooth stone floor simply ended in a black, rough-edged pit lined with loose stones and rock dust, the sort of hazard that belonged in a typical mine shaft and not in this city of precise edges and intricate carvings. Mica leaned over the edge until vertigo threatened to pull her in. The stream spilled over the edge in a tiny waterfall, but no sound of it breaking against something below came up from the depths. The pit seemed to swallow the water just like her headlamp’s light. “I wonder what happened here. The hole doesn’t look planned and sculpted like everything else. A little water is flowing in, but—” Ami gasped and took a step backward. “Get away from it!” She didn’t need to be told twice. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she joined Ami by the staircase. “What do you hear?” “I don’t know. Something… rumbling—” And then Mica could feel as well as hear it, the feeling that the entire world was being dragged across a bed of sand. Mica turned to the stairs, but could barely make any headway with all the shaking. “The stairs! Run for the tunnel!” The rumble became a roar. Wind rushed past them as something enormous and unseen burst from the pit, crying with a voice as mighty as it was alien. Mica wheeled around and thrust a foreleg toward Ami. No sooner did the light meet her sister’s white, terrified eyes than she vanished upward with a scream. White hot anger erased her fear. Nobody messed with her sister: not jacks, not dogs, not even giant monsters. She lunged toward the huge, worm-like form still rocketing out of the pit with little more than threats at her disposal and zero willingness to be the sole surviving member of her family. “Give her back, you—” And then her hooves left the ground amid a rush of air. ThreeSomething smelled awful. Mica’s nose twitched, and her ears soon followed. Moving anything else hurt too much. She took a deep, gasping breath and felt her ribs catch on fire. Even worse than the pain was the smell though, a bitter, biting scent that reminded her of the ’discount’ food vendors’ molding bread and rotting produce. A pale light leaked through her closed eyelids, brighter than a torch and without any of the usual flicker. Where was she? What happened? She remembered being lifted by her saddlebag, rocketing through the darkness, and nothing more. “Am… Ami. Ami!” Talking hurt. She remembered screaming now, screaming for what felt like hours as she flew through the unknown. Did she black out after that? The world was still now, and she’d come to rest on something soft, cool, and damp. Her eyelids felt like marble slabs. Lifting each one took all her focus and concentration, but the view that awaited her did nothing to answer the questions swirling through her mind. A brilliant sliver of white light shone in the distance, like a bonfire condensed into a pinpoint or the world’s most powerful headlamp. Everything else remained a shadow, unseen and still. “Ami!” she called again. A pebble landed on her side, a pebble that buzzed and skittered across her hide on impossibly small legs. She’d never moved so fast. A moment later she was standing, a ragged scream dying in her parched throat as the not-pebble flew away through the dark, clicking and buzzing as it went. The pinpoint of white light swam in her vision while the rotten smell threatened to make her gag. It was only when she reached back to loosen her saddlebags that total panic set in. “The tools! Where are the tools?” Mica shuffled through the soft muck on the ground in the vain hope of finding the saddlebag or at least some of its contents. “We can’t lose the tools! Can’t… afford.” Breathing hurt enough. She’d throw up if she kept trying to talk. She’d throw up if one of those little flying things landed on her again. She’d throw up if she didn’t get away from this fetid smell. She stood knee deep in the muck now, rocking back on forth as she fought to keep her balance. They’d be indebted to Pogo and his dumb pack for the rest of their comfortless lives, if they could make it back home at all. She shut her eyes tight and tried to slow her rapid breathing. “Don’t panic” was a miner’s most important rule. She had to slow down and assess the situation. Ami came first, followed by the tools, and then a way back home. She repeated that list until it became a mantra: Ami, tools, home. Ami, tools, home. If she couldn’t shout, she’d just have to look and listen. Forget the smell; so what if she’d landed in a garbage dump or worse. Now that she was standing still, she could hear more of those buzzing things in the distance, which was hopefully where they’d stay. There was an occasional rush of air too, a gentle air current that eased the stench and brought the hint of something else to her nose, something strong and yet vaguely familiar and inviting. Time to look around again. Slowly she opened her eyes, and slowly she examined the most visible of the shadowy forms around her; staring right into that white light wouldn’t help matters. She needed to be smart, to use the light instead of being blinded by it. The rotting stuff stood in mounds all around her, and further off massive stalagmites as tall as the palace and covered in branching spikes reached up to the unseen ceiling overhead. Searching for that ceiling nearly made Mica fall over. As tall as the stalagmites were, the cavern’s uppermost reaches were further away still, dotted with a million white candles, and glowing a faint blue. Her knees folded of their own accord as the enormity of the cavern struck her, along with the strange feeling that she might fall off the ground into that seemingly infinite expanse of tiny lights, which seemed to be growing stronger as the larger white light faded into the distance, passing behind some obstacle that obscured it from view. In an instant everything clicked: tiny lights up above, an overabundance of plants, random air currents, and odd creatures added up to “the surface.” Every story she’d ever heard about the place tumbled through her mind, most of which she’d considered too fanciful to possibly be true. How could the sky be that big? How could there be creatures the size of a pin-head that fly? But it was. In hours she’d journeyed to the place that took the diamond dogs weeks to reach through tunnels too steep for donkeys. She’d come further from home than any of her ancestors since the founding of the mines. A cold wind swept through her. “How do we get home?” Hours passed before Ami’s voice rang out nearby. Mica had given up searching once she’d found the enormous hole in the earth, its edge dotted with rocks, the smashed headlamp, and the torn remains of her saddlebag. A great pink tatzlwurm scale, another legend she’d dismissed as fantasy, was still lodged in the saddlebag’s thick belt. “Over here, Ami.” Mica ran the her hoof along the scale’s sharp edge, contemplating how close they’d both come to being torn to pieces instead of dragged along. Their tool-filled saddlebags had saved them, or at least delayed the inevitable. There was no chance of getting home now; they were stuck forever in a land of pungent smells, burning bright lights, poisonous insects, and who knew what else. “There you are!” Ami shouted. “We’ve been looking everywhere!” “We?” Mica chanced opening one of her eyes for a split second, just long enough to spot Ami’s companions before the sun’s searing brightness forced her to shut it again. There were two others with her, a much older jenny and some other creature that looked like a donkey dipped in yellow paint. She opened her eye again, drinking in the sight until the pain blinded her. The yellow creature had wings and a pink mane. Was this a pony? “Oh my goodness!” the pony said. “Are you hurt?” Mica shook her head. “Fine. I’m fine. Ami, there’s a big hole here, be careful.” Ami trotted over and pulled her to her hooves. “Come on, let’s get you to a doctor.” “Huh?” “There’s a whole town! Fluttershy the pony found me almost at once! She was looking for that tatzlwurm with some of her friends, and… and… we’re on the surface, Mica! The surface!” Mica took a few tentative, wobbly steps forward. “I noticed.” Fluttershy hovered nearby, judging by the gusts from her wings. “I-I’m Fluttershy. You must be Mica.” “That’s me.” The other jenny cleared her throat. “And I’m Matilda. Pleased to meet you both. When Fluttershy said she’d found a donkey out by the compost heaps who said she was from… well I don’t know what to call the place.” “Home,” Mica grumbled. “I call it home.” The ground under her hooves grew firmer. They’d stepped onto a path. Matilda came closer, her voice hushed. “I always thought the mines were a myth! Cranky and I both heard the legends growing up, of course, about donkeys in caves far below, living on their own without the aid of pony magic or anything else besides their own resourcefulness and determination. I… well, I always found it so inspiring, growing up. And here you are.” Mica sighed. “Here we are.” Things kept happening, whether Mica wanted them to or not. Inside of a day she found herself at a doctor’s office, an impromptu party, and now, mercifully, in a small back room at Matilda’s house. The curtains were pulled shut and a tiny candle on the table beside her provided the only light. Aside from the ever-present smells of dirt, flowers, wood, and a dozen other unknown things, she could almost relax. She ran her hoof along the tatzlwurm scale again, the one thing from the world below she’d refused to part with, and wondered what it was worth. Would this weird, impossibly rare thing pay off their lost mining tools and buy them new ones? Some of the rich dogs and donkeys collected oddities like this, after all. Laughter rang out just beyond the door, and a moment later Ami trotted in. Mica’s tired eyes spotted a flower wreath around her neck and an enormous smile on her face. “How are you feeling? Are the pills the doctor gave you working?” Mica took a small, pain-free breath and rubbed the bandages wrapped around her middle. “Better. My ribs feel fine.” Ami found another chair and joined her at the table. “I’ve been having the most wonderful—” she froze for a moment and her smile lessened “—I mean, every creature I’ve met has been so kind and generous.” “That’s great.” Ami felt her away across the table until she could press Mica’s hoof between hers. “Please don’t just sit in here all alone. Please come out and talk with me and the others.” “It’s too bright. The sunlight hurts my eyes.” “I asked, and the sun set already. It’s dark outside now.” Mica turned away. “Thanks, but… What do we do now? I can’t just sit around drinking tea or something like we’re on vacation. Yesterday we were worried about starving and paying off our new tools.” “I know. And I know you miss home, but—” “And I know home is a lousy place. Our cave is always too cold, and the mine’s dangerous, and we’re poor… but it’s home. It’s where all our stuff is. It’s… it’s where Mom and Dad are buried. And now we can’t ever go back.” Ami remained silent for a minute, and when Mica glanced back she saw her lips were pursed. “The flying ponies say they could take us there, back down the hole we were pulled through. But I’m not going.” Mica nodded, a strange longing stirring inside her for what she herself admitted was a terrible place to live, a place that was barely suitable for donkeys more capable than her and Ami put together. Sure some of the cave-dwellers were better off than others, but all shared the same risks; if the mine collapsed tomorrow, the rich creatures in the palace wouldn’t have anybody to sell things to. “I know you’re not.” “There’s all sorts of helpful things here for blind creatures, but best of all there are other blind creatures. I could have an almost normal life with a nice place to live, and friends, and even a safe job. I’ve been retelling our story to everybody willing to listen all day, and I think I’m actually going to write it all down. Mom’s old stories too, and dad’s, and everything about life underground. I’m going to write it down in a book and see if I can sell it. Fluttershy says she has friends who can help with that part.” That idea got Mica to smile, just for a moment. They’d switched places: she’d become the shut-in, incapable of functioning in the broader world while Ami was free at last. “Sounds like you’ve got everything you ever wanted.” “You could too,” Ami whispered, “I know it. You could do anything here, be anything.” “But what if—“ Mica drew in a sharp breath as her old frustrations joined her on the surface “—what if I want… I hate the mine. I hate how dirty and dangerous it is, and how hard Mom and Dad had to work just to keep us fed, and how it took them away, and I never want to go in there again. But it’s all I have. I’ve been training to work the mines forever.” Ami left her chair, stepped closer, and nuzzled her sister’s neck. “Well what if, and this might sound crazy, we figure out a new plan together and get some help from all our new friends?” “That does sound crazy.” “No crazier than the story that brought us here.” FourMica breathed in the scent of rock dust, the smell of her childhood, and smiled. The cavern that had once been her whole world looked so small now. Even the glowing palace seemed quaint compared to the simple majesty of the night sky. A light gold pony in a pith helmet walked up next to her and cocked her head toward the palace. “That’s the place?” Mica nodded. “Not quite as big as the one with the tatzlwurms, but with a much smaller chance of getting squashed or stuck in a narrow tunnel.” The pony grinned. “Eh, I’ll take it. I paid for history book-busting archeology and you delivered. And don’t worry about the tatzlwurms or tunnels, Fluttershy and her pals have that covered. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mica.” “Same to you, Daring Do.” A sack full of bits landed on the ground as Daring Do sped off. Unpacking her things didn’t take long. In ten minutes her whole shop was set up, just beyond the well-worn path to the mine and in full view of the palace. When somebody lit the torches to officially begin the day, she’d be ready. “Mica? Is that you?” Max bounded up beside her before she could even turn around. “But where’s Ami? What happened? It’s been weeks!” “Three weeks,” Mica murmured, her eyes focused on the tatzlwurm scale she was angling to better catch the torchlight. “Three weeks exactly. We… kind of got lost and found a new home. Ami’s all right, don’t worry. I’m just here on business. Speaking of, this is for you.” She passed him a bag of gems, more than enough to cover the lost tools, and barely a quarter of what she expected to earn today. Max hefted the bag and sniffed its contents. “Thanks, but this is too much. I should—” “Take it. Call it a gift from me and Ami, and don’t tell Pogo.” “Hah, if only. I guess you two figured out how to mine after all.” “Not exactly.” Mica propped up a small wooden sign decorated with vibrant paint listing her one and only service: passage to and from the surface (temporary or permanent) via pegasus chariot. Max gasped. Mica smiled. “It’s all in Ami’s new book. Want to come and visit?”
One“Of course it isn’t safe,” Mica quipped, “it’s a mine. Accidents happen, Ami. They happen all the time.” The hair brush slid through Mica’s brown curls, its quiet shushing the only thing left to fill the silence. Of course accidents happened, and of course Ami knew that. Ami stood in the entryway, her milky white eyes practically glowing in the candlelight, her lips downturned in a pout, and her ears poised for Mica’s imminent apology. At least that’s how Mica imagined the scene behind her. She wouldn’t turn around and look. She wouldn’t do what she normally did: face her twin sister, sigh in defeat, say she didn’t mean it, and promise everything would be fine. That oft-repeated promise died one month and two days ago. Instead her gaze drifted to the wooden dresser in front of her, its drawers open and their contents askew. Everything from their hair band collection to their mother’s prized brooch stared up at her through a thin layer of rock dust. Candlelight danced on the polished wood, the effect almost mirror-like compared to the rough-hewn stone that comprised almost every other surface in sight. She could still remember their mother’s fond whispers about the dresser, about how their father had single-hoofedly mined his weight in diamonds just to buy her a wedding present fit for ‘the jenny of his dreams,’ and about how she’d nearly convinced him to sell it back to the diamond dogs that’d carried it all this way. They couldn’t afford it, she’d said. What would they do with it, she’d said. Mica nudged one of the lower drawers closed with her back hoof. Staring at the remains of their family’s prized possessions, those they hadn’t sold for food, was even worse than apologizing for stating the obvious: from here on out, putting food on the table required hard, dangerous work. That was how their parents had lived. That was how everybody else lived. Still, she had no intention of living in silence. “Do you want a bow for your hair?” Ami’s slight voice drifted over from the other side of their cave, most likely from atop their parents' straw bed. Mica couldn’t fathom why she spent so much time there, and didn’t want to ask. “We’re going to have to wear hard hats anyway.” Mica slid her foreleg along her curls and rolled her eyes. “Yes, but… that’s no excuse for not taking care of yourself. I’m wearing one… and one in my tail, too! A pretty one!” If I get crushed in a cave-in, at least they’ll know it’s me, she thought. “You’re just trying to distract the jacks.” “Am not! And don’t forget we get to carry around big heavy pickaxes and hammers; if some dumb boy can’t keep his eyes on his work, I’ll—” Ami chuckled. “Yes, yes, everybody knows that. If I had a topaz for every time you threatened somebody’s ability to chew solid foods…” Mica closed another drawer, this time much harder. “Then we wouldn’t be stuck putting on hard hats.” Ami’s hooves echoed through the room. A moment later she was by Mica’s side, feeling for and then kneading her shoulder. “When I asked before about it being safe, and about the jacks… I was trying to be funny. I’m sorry.” Mica tensed for a moment, not even wanting her muscles to be pacified. That moment ended when she looked up at her sister’s warm smile and sightless yet affectionate gaze. “Me too.” “Everything’s going to be fine,” Ami whispered. “You can’t know that.” Ami nodded. “True.” Mica sniffed as she looked at their reflections in the dresser’s surface: hers all hard lines like their father, Ami’s soft and glowing like their mother. “Then why say it?” Ami ceased the massage, leaned in, and gave a strand of Mica’s hair a sharp tug with her teeth. “One of these things makes you feel better than the other, don’t you think?” “I’d still rather have a pickaxe and something to swing it at.” “We’d better get going, then.” All the typical sounds of life echoed through the cavern as the morning commute trudged on: jacks and jennys of every age emerging from the honeycomb of caves, most on their way to the mines with hard hats and tools or to the market with a sack full of gems to spend. Mica fell into the second line, albeit with Ami beside her instead of a money pouch. Her hooves scraped against the pathway’s ridged edge, the border between the well-worn path and the cavern’s rougher, expansive nothingness reserved for children at play and adults with somber business. She glared at the circle of knee-height stones in the shadows, the communal meeting spot where they’d gotten the news, where the half-dead souls who’d escaped the cave-in stood solemnly to present their still-breathing, still-breadwinning selves to their families and to allow those who hadn’t been so lucky to be accounted for. “Are we close to the palace?” Ami whispered. “Don’t call it that,” Mica replied. “It’s just a big, stone… thing.” “A big stone thing with arched doorways—” “Yes.” “And fifty steep steps just to reach the front gate.” “Yes.” “And fourteen living chambers—” Mica thrust a leg toward the massive edifice approaching on their right, her hoof barely missing Ami’s nose. “Yes! Yes, fine we’re getting close.” Her eyes traced all the details that Ami only knew by touch: the long line of steps from the cavern floor, the courtyard guarded by pillared arches, the oil lamps burning in every high window, and the time-worn geometric carvings wrapping around every edge from the smallest of steps to the grandest of doorways. Its bright firelight reached the furthest recesses of the cavern and well into Mica and Ami’s own cave. At this time of the morning, the chatter and clatter of the market within the courtyard reached further still. Such was the monster that watched over the cavern, marking day and night with its oil lamps, and holding all commerce in its clutches. “It’s still not a palace,” Mica murmured. “Our ancestors found it way back at the beginning of time, back when donkeys and diamond dogs joined up to work the deep mines. It was just a big empty building then, and that’s what it still is. Maybe it used to be a palace, but now it’s just where you go to buy vegetables and whatever junk the dogs haul in from the surface.” “Who knows, maybe a king and queen lived there ages ago and ruled all the caves we call home.” Mica rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all poetic. You sound like… Mom.” Choking out the last word took some effort. “I’ll stop.” Ami whispered. “No… No, don’t. I’m sorry I’m being so… me. Storytelling sure beats thinking about today.” Ami nudged her again, this time onto the fork in the path leading to the market. “I won’t say there’s nothing to worry about, but we’ll get by if we stick together. Oh, here comes just the dog we need!” Mica turned to look and, a moment later, heard Max’s thumping gait and jingling merchandise. The diamond dog paced alongside the market path with a collection of necklaces held high, his voice ringing with a friendly enthusiasm that his giant form could barely contain. He smiled down at the donkeys he passed, waving hello and presenting the necklaces all at once. “See what I’ve brought you! Sweet-smelling rosewood, cedar, and pine! The finest charms made from the finest of woods, fresh from the surface!” Ami’s hoof went up. “Max! Over here!” Max’s shadow enveloped them in an instant, and an instant after that the scents of oiled wood and unwashed dog assaulted them. “Amicite! Mica! For you the first smell is free.” He leaned down and whispered loudly enough for half the cavern to overhear. “I save the very best for the very prettiest, you know.” Mica sighed as he flicked through the necklace collection, stepping aside so Ami could bear the full brunt of the stench and the ‘prettiest’ title that went along with it. “We’ve got too much jewelry already, Max. We need tools: hard hats, pickaxes, all the usual stuff.” Max’s smile faltered. “Going in the little gem tunnels?” Ami nodded and batted away the necklaces with a friendly smile. “Little for diamond dogs, perhaps. Mica and I… we’ll manage.” “Not you too, Ami. How will you—” Mica stamped her hoof. “We need to work for a living, same as everybody else.” Ami shot her a look, brief but piercing. “We appreciate your concern, but please just sell us the tools, Max.” Seconds passed while Max’s necklaces swayed in his grasp and Mica seethed in spite of her own better judgement. She couldn’t keep doing this, raging at anybody who dared bring up the obvious: parents or no, they needed to eat. Neighborhood charity kept them afloat for a while, as did selling off a few creature comforts and mementos. Now came their first day of adulthood, a few years earlier than planned and all the more crucial. In her nicest voice, which wasn’t that different, she joined Ami’s plea. “We know the usual arrangement: a third of all the gems we mine are yours until our tools are paid off. Please help us earn a living. We’ll even… we’ll even save up and buy a necklace or two.” A couple necklaces would be cheaper than making their start with a less reputable dog with worse loan terms. At last Max nodded. “My pack brother sells tools. Good ones. I’ll just go and… here, these come with the deal.” He dropped two necklaces on the ground and bounded off before they could protest. Mica watched him take the stairs to the market two at a time, sorely tempted to shout after him but unsure of what to say that even bordered on friendly. They didn’t need fancy necklaces, and chances were they’d just get in the way. “Come on, we’d better follow him and return these.” Ami ran each necklace along her cheek and gave it a deep sniff. “Mmm. I suppose we must.” “You can be a jewelry snob when we’re not poor. Come on.” The sounds of the market grew louder as they ascended the stairs, building and building from the cavern’s daily background noise to a near cacophony by the time they entered into the courtyard. Merchandise-laden carpets formed a series of aisles, each one brimming with customers, and each one guarded by a dog or donkey shopkeeper preemptively haggling with anybody who made eye contact. Darkness peeked over shoulder-height walls on three sides of the courtyard, simultaneously setting it apart from the world and adding to the already imposing nature of the gateway on the fourth side: the cavern wall, this section chiseled smooth and covered in triangular patterns, gave way to a rectangular hall that stretched into the distance but not into darkness. Lit torches lined its smooth walls, the brightest sight Mica had ever glimpsed, and also the most garish. Why did the rich ones need all that light? Just because they took home the biggest chunk of all the market’s profits didn’t mean they were too good for darkness. Too good for the mines, perhaps, but not for something so basic as the absence of light. If Ami had to go a lifetime without light, they could stand to douse those expensive fires once in a while. “Come on, Mica. Don’t bother the well-to-dos.” Mica rolled her eyes and followed Ami down one of the less busy aisles. “How’d you know?” Ami swished her tail just enough to tickle Mica’s nose. “The same way I can find my way to Max’s place: familiarity.” “Hey, I’m the one who did the shopping with Dad, how come you know the market so well?” “Who do you think bought the bows you’re wearing? I went with Mom all the time.” “Oh.” “I wasn’t about to sit in our cave all day, while the rest of you had all the—“ A chorus of “Hi Ami” broke through the general din, and Ami waved a foreleg at all present. “Hello.” Mica lowered her head and sped up. “Hmph.” “Indeed.” Merchants drifted by on either side, largely unnoticed by Mica unless they accosted Ami to buy something. They’d left the food sellers behind minutes ago, and with them the market she knew. Now as they passed chairs, knives, jewelry, pots, and everything else non-edible, the only way left to keep her bearings involved sidelong glances at the walls and other visible landmarks. She didn’t like feeling lost. No prospective miner did. “How much further?” Max’s unmistakable voice answered her from the very corner of the market on the left. “Aww, you didn’t have to come all the way up here. I’ve got almost all your stuff ready. I just need… hmm, let’s see.” Mica stepped around Ami and took in the spread of tools laid out on the stone floor. It wasn’t as impressive as Mom and Dad’s old gear, but all the basic necessities to turn back-breaking labor into a few shiny gems seemed to be accounted for. She slid her hoof along a pickaxe’s long handle. “One third of our haul until it’s all paid off, right?” Max turned from his rummaging in a crate and nodded with a big smile. “It’ll all be yours in no time.” “Oh yeah?” a much deeper voice replied. A second, larger dog came out of the shadows, his diamond-encrusted collar glinting in the torchlight. The collar alone put him a far step above Max and the tattered red scarf tied around his neck. At least that’s what Mica knew of about diamond dog social structure, that the first and most important mark of success was a jeweled collar. She’d never thought to ask more. Max scratched at his scarf and slid to the wall, his ears folding back, his tail ducking down, and his smile growing thin. “They’re good for it, Pogo! They’ll work hard!” Pogo leaned down and matched Mica’s stern gaze, nose to nose. “They’re scrawny.” “Like he said,” Mica replied with all the coolness she could muster, “we’ll work hard. Either we bring back gems or we starve.” “Starving’s cheap. Tools ain’t.” Ami cleared her throat. “We are rather small, Mr. Pogo, but that just means we can fit in tighter spaces than most. We can work parts of the mines that others can’t, parts that aren’t as picked over.” Pogo flicked an ear towards Ami, but that was all. “A third of your haul… but you’re only getting one headlamp. That’s all you need anyway.” Ami shouted “Deal,” before Mica could shout something else.
TwoPebbles skittered into the darkness beyond the headlamp’s reach. Mica paused as she listened to them vanish into the void, her hooves holding on as best they could to the few footholds the narrow tunnel offered as it dove downward into the unknown. The mine’s main thoroughfare and all its signs of light and life lay hours behind them, and their current prospect still remained far ahead. Supposedly the gem deposits near the end of this tunnel hadn’t been touched in years simply because of how narrow the passage became, narrow enough that only a couple of underaged, undersized jennys could possibly fit. “Be there in no time,” she murmured. “That’d be Dad’s line right about now.” Behind her, Ami fidgeted with her saddlebag and, by the sound of things, took a long pull from her canteen between panting breaths. “That does… sound like… him.” “You’re going to be okay, right? This is the easy part, going downhill. The way back is all up with a load of gems.” Ami sighed. “I’ll manage.” Mica nodded, purely to herself, and trudged on. It wasn’t like the tunnel was wide enough for them to turn around, but keeping that quiet was probably best. The same went for how she was carrying most of the tools; Ami’s stamina left much to be desired. “Just think, tonight we’re eating whatever we want.” “Once we make our first loan payment.” “Yeah, yeah. Worst case we’ll trade Max’s necklaces for a quick meal. Or I guess you could just bat your eyelashes at him.” “That’s not funny.” “Hey, it’s not like I can do it. Unless we want him running away screaming.” “Don’t.” Ami’s words echoed off the walls. “Don’t mock your looks. Or mine.” Mica rolled her eyes. “I’m not mocking you! You’re the pretty one, Ami. Just because—” “I’m blind, not deaf. I’ve overheard plenty about how the both of us look. You’ve got your share of admirers, believe me.” “Oh yeah?” “Of course you do.” A minute passed in silence, save for the muted grind of hooves on stone and Mica’s thundering train of thought. “I, um…” “Do you want to know who—” “No. Well, maybe later when we’ve got time to think about boys.” Ami’s heavy breathing gave way to quiet, mirthless laughter. “Time. We’ve got plenty of… Do you hear that?” Only silence, deep and terrible, reached Mica’s ears. It couldn’t be another cave-in; they hadn’t even gotten their tools out yet, much less used them. The ceiling was low and featureless, so it couldn’t be falling rocks either. “What—” “Ssh! I’m listening.” Do it faster, Mica thought. Was this what Mom and Dad’s final moments were like? Behind her, Ami’s saddlebags scraped against the cave floor as she knelt down. “What’re you doing back there?” “There’s water! I can hear running water off to the left!” Water. For a second the meaning of the word didn’t even register. “Get out a pickaxe! If there’s an underground river there might be a whole other tunnel nobody’s ever touched!” “Right… the tools.” Mica’s saddlebags landed on the ground, and a minute later she had the pickaxe handle between her teeth, ready to take the first swing. She didn’t hear the clang of metal on rock or feel the sharp vibrations traveling through her jaw. That one moment of uncertainty still had her in its clutches, the sensation that they were about to perish just like their parents did, all for the sake of a few shiny rocks. Her neck ached by the tenth swing. How did mom and dad do this all day every day? Was she doing it wrong somehow? Still she swung again and again, chipping away at the wall in hopes that it brought them riches and not ruin. One wrong hit could end it all; she might’ve doomed them both already. Cracks snaked up the walls and, a few strikes later, whole chunks of rock fell away. Darkness and a quiet gurgling sound filled the empty places. “What did we find? What did we find?” Ami’s voice had gained a singsong quality that Mica couldn’t help smiling along with. Maybe things were finally going their way. She spat out the pickaxe and aimed her headlamp into one of the larger holes. The beam of light seemed to melt into the unyielding gloom. “There’s a whole lot of space over there. That’s about all I can—” Something impossible caught the light. In the midst of the opening she’d created was an unnaturally perfect straight line, a step carved into the rock by hoof, paw, or claw. “Ami,” Mica whispered, “you’re not going to believe this.” Breaking open a passage big enough to crawl through went quickly enough, at least by Mica’s reckoning. Her worries faded with each clang of the pickaxe and crumble of loosed rock. Light danced off of the rubble piling up on the ground, the clouds of dust her work released, and of course the polished stone step that practically demanded she work faster. “Don’t know what it is,” she said through a mouthful of pickaxe, “but it’s artificial! We’ve gotta check this out!” Within minutes Mica was on the other side, looking around in open-mouthed wonder. They’d tunneled through the middle of a very long staircase, its upper reaches buried under an ancient cave-in, and whatever lay below still beyond her headlamp’s reach. Faded triangular patterns lined the walls, broken only by regular outcroppings to hold torches. “Just like at the market.” Her own voice felt too loud for this ancient, forgotten place that bore too strong a resemblance to the building she refused to call a palace, save for its being untouched by modern hooves and unspoiled by the rich. Where did the staircase go? What happened to its creators? Pained grunts from her sister broke Mica out of her awestruck trance. She knelt down and helped Ami through the hole. “We’re on a staircase. The way up is buried, but there’s no telling what’s down below.” Ami shook off the rock dust and adjusted her saddle bags. “It’s colder on this side. It smells different, too. It’s… wet.” Mica hadn’t noticed any of this. Her every thought was with what she could see, and what she couldn’t. “Maybe there’s gold, or gems, or some really old thing that’s worth a fortune.” Ami cocked her head towards the stairs leading down. “The water sound is coming from that way.” “Then let’s go! Drinkable water would be a great find; we could have our tools paid off inside of a week! Aren’t you excited? It’s like we’re explorers!” All her childhood imaginings of how fun and exciting working the mine could be came flooding back. She would’ve been giddy if a few tiny diamonds fell out of the tunnel wall, and now she could barely keep herself from running. They’d done it; their first day in the mines came with a discovery so big and unexpected that it just had to have a big prize at its center. “Slow down so I can catch up!” Mica gasped and came to a halt; pure excitement had carried her down tens of steps already. “I-I’m sorry. Just… follow my voice. The steps are all the same height and there aren’t any breaks in them or anything, besides the one we made, anyway.” Ami trotted towards her, cautiously at first, while Mica’s brain caught up with her legs. “Take it easy. The last thing we want is to get lost… or worse.” Those last two words hit Mica square in the chest. She thought of the pile of boulders a few hundred feet up the stairs, and how their mom and dad were probably buried under one just like it. Suddenly she wasn’t excited anymore, not about their discovery, and definitely not about the dangerous road that led them to it. “Let’s just get this over with. All we need is something big enough to haul out.” Soon the staircase opened into a larger chamber, too large for a paltry headlamp to illuminate. All Mica could see were distant glimpses of stone buildings immense, tiny, elaborate, and plain. What she’d taken for a random staircase looked to be the gateway to a lost city, and yet wonder didn’t overtake her again. It was all big and beautiful, but what did it matter? Finding a vein of ruby or topaz would’ve left them better off. “Tell me what you see,” Ami whispered. “Not much… and why? It’s not like I see anything we can sell.” “Is the cavern big?” “Huge.” “Is it rough stone, or is everything carved? Is it one big building like the palace or—” “It doesn’t matter.” “It does to me!” Ami’s shout echoed off the distant walls. “You’re my closest thing to a working pair of eyes ever since…” Mica’s legs turned to ice. Ami drew up beside her, her voice quiet. “Every night Mom and I would… I’d ask her to describe everything. Everything. I can’t see but I love to know, to know her favorite stories, and what she did during the day, and the songs her mom used to sing. That’s all I’ve ever had since I wasn’t any good at the physical stuff you can do. If… if I could make money telling and retelling stories, we’d never have to work again, but I can’t so I guess I just need to s-stop d-dreaming and wake up.” They leaned against each other, momentarily sharing warmth and tears. “Sorry I’m a jerk,” Mica whispered, “and sorry that… that I was always off doing stuff with other kids instead of being a good sister. I should’ve brought you everywhere with me. I should’ve… I don’t even know.” “We’re just different. That shouldn’t be a bad thing.” “We’re still sisters! We’re twins, even! And from now on—” A pebble bounced in the distance, as quiet as a water droplet striking a puddle and yet unmistakable in this noiseless tomb. The sound came again and again as the pebble skittered closer, finally shooting between Ami’s legs on its way down the staircase. Mica didn’t breathe until the pebble came to rest and silence returned. A shiver shot up her spine moments later. “Let’s hurry up and get out of here.” “Sounds good.” Their steps were more careful now, each hoof fall slow and deliberate. Mica swiveled her ears around as best she could, but didn’t dare move her headlamp’s beam from the path ahead. She could see the bottom now, a flat patch of floor that looked perfectly safe and unremarkable. Water trickled somewhere nearby. Once they reached the bottom step she could see it: a small, burbling stream had eroded a jagged channel in the floor, passing through her tiny window of visual perception on its way downhill. Mica followed it with the light, more curious about where the water was going than where it came from. After another minute of walking she held up a foreleg to block Ami from going further. “Stop here. There’s a hole.” Calling it a hole didn’t do the precipice justice. The smooth stone floor simply ended in a black, rough-edged pit lined with loose stones and rock dust, the sort of hazard that belonged in a typical mine shaft and not in this city of precise edges and intricate carvings. Mica leaned over the edge until vertigo threatened to pull her in. The stream spilled over the edge in a tiny waterfall, but no sound of it breaking against something below came up from the depths. The pit seemed to swallow the water just like her headlamp’s light. “I wonder what happened here. The hole doesn’t look planned and sculpted like everything else. A little water is flowing in, but—” Ami gasped and took a step backward. “Get away from it!” She didn’t need to be told twice. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she joined Ami by the staircase. “What do you hear?” “I don’t know. Something… rumbling—” And then Mica could feel as well as hear it, the feeling that the entire world was being dragged across a bed of sand. Mica turned to the stairs, but could barely make any headway with all the shaking. “The stairs! Run for the tunnel!” The rumble became a roar. Wind rushed past them as something enormous and unseen burst from the pit, crying with a voice as mighty as it was alien. Mica wheeled around and thrust a foreleg toward Ami. No sooner did the light meet her sister’s white, terrified eyes than she vanished upward with a scream. White hot anger erased her fear. Nobody messed with her sister: not jacks, not dogs, not even giant monsters. She lunged toward the huge, worm-like form still rocketing out of the pit with little more than threats at her disposal and zero willingness to be the sole surviving member of her family. “Give her back, you—” And then her hooves left the ground amid a rush of air.
ThreeSomething smelled awful. Mica’s nose twitched, and her ears soon followed. Moving anything else hurt too much. She took a deep, gasping breath and felt her ribs catch on fire. Even worse than the pain was the smell though, a bitter, biting scent that reminded her of the ’discount’ food vendors’ molding bread and rotting produce. A pale light leaked through her closed eyelids, brighter than a torch and without any of the usual flicker. Where was she? What happened? She remembered being lifted by her saddlebag, rocketing through the darkness, and nothing more. “Am… Ami. Ami!” Talking hurt. She remembered screaming now, screaming for what felt like hours as she flew through the unknown. Did she black out after that? The world was still now, and she’d come to rest on something soft, cool, and damp. Her eyelids felt like marble slabs. Lifting each one took all her focus and concentration, but the view that awaited her did nothing to answer the questions swirling through her mind. A brilliant sliver of white light shone in the distance, like a bonfire condensed into a pinpoint or the world’s most powerful headlamp. Everything else remained a shadow, unseen and still. “Ami!” she called again. A pebble landed on her side, a pebble that buzzed and skittered across her hide on impossibly small legs. She’d never moved so fast. A moment later she was standing, a ragged scream dying in her parched throat as the not-pebble flew away through the dark, clicking and buzzing as it went. The pinpoint of white light swam in her vision while the rotten smell threatened to make her gag. It was only when she reached back to loosen her saddlebags that total panic set in. “The tools! Where are the tools?” Mica shuffled through the soft muck on the ground in the vain hope of finding the saddlebag or at least some of its contents. “We can’t lose the tools! Can’t… afford.” Breathing hurt enough. She’d throw up if she kept trying to talk. She’d throw up if one of those little flying things landed on her again. She’d throw up if she didn’t get away from this fetid smell. She stood knee deep in the muck now, rocking back on forth as she fought to keep her balance. They’d be indebted to Pogo and his dumb pack for the rest of their comfortless lives, if they could make it back home at all. She shut her eyes tight and tried to slow her rapid breathing. “Don’t panic” was a miner’s most important rule. She had to slow down and assess the situation. Ami came first, followed by the tools, and then a way back home. She repeated that list until it became a mantra: Ami, tools, home. Ami, tools, home. If she couldn’t shout, she’d just have to look and listen. Forget the smell; so what if she’d landed in a garbage dump or worse. Now that she was standing still, she could hear more of those buzzing things in the distance, which was hopefully where they’d stay. There was an occasional rush of air too, a gentle air current that eased the stench and brought the hint of something else to her nose, something strong and yet vaguely familiar and inviting. Time to look around again. Slowly she opened her eyes, and slowly she examined the most visible of the shadowy forms around her; staring right into that white light wouldn’t help matters. She needed to be smart, to use the light instead of being blinded by it. The rotting stuff stood in mounds all around her, and further off massive stalagmites as tall as the palace and covered in branching spikes reached up to the unseen ceiling overhead. Searching for that ceiling nearly made Mica fall over. As tall as the stalagmites were, the cavern’s uppermost reaches were further away still, dotted with a million white candles, and glowing a faint blue. Her knees folded of their own accord as the enormity of the cavern struck her, along with the strange feeling that she might fall off the ground into that seemingly infinite expanse of tiny lights, which seemed to be growing stronger as the larger white light faded into the distance, passing behind some obstacle that obscured it from view. In an instant everything clicked: tiny lights up above, an overabundance of plants, random air currents, and odd creatures added up to “the surface.” Every story she’d ever heard about the place tumbled through her mind, most of which she’d considered too fanciful to possibly be true. How could the sky be that big? How could there be creatures the size of a pin-head that fly? But it was. In hours she’d journeyed to the place that took the diamond dogs weeks to reach through tunnels too steep for donkeys. She’d come further from home than any of her ancestors since the founding of the mines. A cold wind swept through her. “How do we get home?” Hours passed before Ami’s voice rang out nearby. Mica had given up searching once she’d found the enormous hole in the earth, its edge dotted with rocks, the smashed headlamp, and the torn remains of her saddlebag. A great pink tatzlwurm scale, another legend she’d dismissed as fantasy, was still lodged in the saddlebag’s thick belt. “Over here, Ami.” Mica ran the her hoof along the scale’s sharp edge, contemplating how close they’d both come to being torn to pieces instead of dragged along. Their tool-filled saddlebags had saved them, or at least delayed the inevitable. There was no chance of getting home now; they were stuck forever in a land of pungent smells, burning bright lights, poisonous insects, and who knew what else. “There you are!” Ami shouted. “We’ve been looking everywhere!” “We?” Mica chanced opening one of her eyes for a split second, just long enough to spot Ami’s companions before the sun’s searing brightness forced her to shut it again. There were two others with her, a much older jenny and some other creature that looked like a donkey dipped in yellow paint. She opened her eye again, drinking in the sight until the pain blinded her. The yellow creature had wings and a pink mane. Was this a pony? “Oh my goodness!” the pony said. “Are you hurt?” Mica shook her head. “Fine. I’m fine. Ami, there’s a big hole here, be careful.” Ami trotted over and pulled her to her hooves. “Come on, let’s get you to a doctor.” “Huh?” “There’s a whole town! Fluttershy the pony found me almost at once! She was looking for that tatzlwurm with some of her friends, and… and… we’re on the surface, Mica! The surface!” Mica took a few tentative, wobbly steps forward. “I noticed.” Fluttershy hovered nearby, judging by the gusts from her wings. “I-I’m Fluttershy. You must be Mica.” “That’s me.” The other jenny cleared her throat. “And I’m Matilda. Pleased to meet you both. When Fluttershy said she’d found a donkey out by the compost heaps who said she was from… well I don’t know what to call the place.” “Home,” Mica grumbled. “I call it home.” The ground under her hooves grew firmer. They’d stepped onto a path. Matilda came closer, her voice hushed. “I always thought the mines were a myth! Cranky and I both heard the legends growing up, of course, about donkeys in caves far below, living on their own without the aid of pony magic or anything else besides their own resourcefulness and determination. I… well, I always found it so inspiring, growing up. And here you are.” Mica sighed. “Here we are.” Things kept happening, whether Mica wanted them to or not. Inside of a day she found herself at a doctor’s office, an impromptu party, and now, mercifully, in a small back room at Matilda’s house. The curtains were pulled shut and a tiny candle on the table beside her provided the only light. Aside from the ever-present smells of dirt, flowers, wood, and a dozen other unknown things, she could almost relax. She ran her hoof along the tatzlwurm scale again, the one thing from the world below she’d refused to part with, and wondered what it was worth. Would this weird, impossibly rare thing pay off their lost mining tools and buy them new ones? Some of the rich dogs and donkeys collected oddities like this, after all. Laughter rang out just beyond the door, and a moment later Ami trotted in. Mica’s tired eyes spotted a flower wreath around her neck and an enormous smile on her face. “How are you feeling? Are the pills the doctor gave you working?” Mica took a small, pain-free breath and rubbed the bandages wrapped around her middle. “Better. My ribs feel fine.” Ami found another chair and joined her at the table. “I’ve been having the most wonderful—” she froze for a moment and her smile lessened “—I mean, every creature I’ve met has been so kind and generous.” “That’s great.” Ami felt her away across the table until she could press Mica’s hoof between hers. “Please don’t just sit in here all alone. Please come out and talk with me and the others.” “It’s too bright. The sunlight hurts my eyes.” “I asked, and the sun set already. It’s dark outside now.” Mica turned away. “Thanks, but… What do we do now? I can’t just sit around drinking tea or something like we’re on vacation. Yesterday we were worried about starving and paying off our new tools.” “I know. And I know you miss home, but—” “And I know home is a lousy place. Our cave is always too cold, and the mine’s dangerous, and we’re poor… but it’s home. It’s where all our stuff is. It’s… it’s where Mom and Dad are buried. And now we can’t ever go back.” Ami remained silent for a minute, and when Mica glanced back she saw her lips were pursed. “The flying ponies say they could take us there, back down the hole we were pulled through. But I’m not going.” Mica nodded, a strange longing stirring inside her for what she herself admitted was a terrible place to live, a place that was barely suitable for donkeys more capable than her and Ami put together. Sure some of the cave-dwellers were better off than others, but all shared the same risks; if the mine collapsed tomorrow, the rich creatures in the palace wouldn’t have anybody to sell things to. “I know you’re not.” “There’s all sorts of helpful things here for blind creatures, but best of all there are other blind creatures. I could have an almost normal life with a nice place to live, and friends, and even a safe job. I’ve been retelling our story to everybody willing to listen all day, and I think I’m actually going to write it all down. Mom’s old stories too, and dad’s, and everything about life underground. I’m going to write it down in a book and see if I can sell it. Fluttershy says she has friends who can help with that part.” That idea got Mica to smile, just for a moment. They’d switched places: she’d become the shut-in, incapable of functioning in the broader world while Ami was free at last. “Sounds like you’ve got everything you ever wanted.” “You could too,” Ami whispered, “I know it. You could do anything here, be anything.” “But what if—“ Mica drew in a sharp breath as her old frustrations joined her on the surface “—what if I want… I hate the mine. I hate how dirty and dangerous it is, and how hard Mom and Dad had to work just to keep us fed, and how it took them away, and I never want to go in there again. But it’s all I have. I’ve been training to work the mines forever.” Ami left her chair, stepped closer, and nuzzled her sister’s neck. “Well what if, and this might sound crazy, we figure out a new plan together and get some help from all our new friends?” “That does sound crazy.” “No crazier than the story that brought us here.”
FourMica breathed in the scent of rock dust, the smell of her childhood, and smiled. The cavern that had once been her whole world looked so small now. Even the glowing palace seemed quaint compared to the simple majesty of the night sky. A light gold pony in a pith helmet walked up next to her and cocked her head toward the palace. “That’s the place?” Mica nodded. “Not quite as big as the one with the tatzlwurms, but with a much smaller chance of getting squashed or stuck in a narrow tunnel.” The pony grinned. “Eh, I’ll take it. I paid for history book-busting archeology and you delivered. And don’t worry about the tatzlwurms or tunnels, Fluttershy and her pals have that covered. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mica.” “Same to you, Daring Do.” A sack full of bits landed on the ground as Daring Do sped off. Unpacking her things didn’t take long. In ten minutes her whole shop was set up, just beyond the well-worn path to the mine and in full view of the palace. When somebody lit the torches to officially begin the day, she’d be ready. “Mica? Is that you?” Max bounded up beside her before she could even turn around. “But where’s Ami? What happened? It’s been weeks!” “Three weeks,” Mica murmured, her eyes focused on the tatzlwurm scale she was angling to better catch the torchlight. “Three weeks exactly. We… kind of got lost and found a new home. Ami’s all right, don’t worry. I’m just here on business. Speaking of, this is for you.” She passed him a bag of gems, more than enough to cover the lost tools, and barely a quarter of what she expected to earn today. Max hefted the bag and sniffed its contents. “Thanks, but this is too much. I should—” “Take it. Call it a gift from me and Ami, and don’t tell Pogo.” “Hah, if only. I guess you two figured out how to mine after all.” “Not exactly.” Mica propped up a small wooden sign decorated with vibrant paint listing her one and only service: passage to and from the surface (temporary or permanent) via pegasus chariot. Max gasped. Mica smiled. “It’s all in Ami’s new book. Want to come and visit?”
