10 #3

The twenty-six living miners gathered on the bridge. Teren laid the watchman beside the wounded. Nia held Pella. Sava held the list.

“You entered a regency installation,” Soren said.

“Your installation fell on its workers.”

“You’re under arrest for sabotage, theft, and attacking the Guard.”

Doven raised the blue gear he had cut.

“The machine kept running after the collapse!” he shouted. “The order bore the commission’s mark.”

The neighbors began repeating it.

Soren looked at his soldiers. There were twelve. More than a hundred people surrounded them, some with shovels, others with bowls and bandages. Nydel’s map had gathered before the bridge.

“Stand aside,” he ordered.

No one did.

Isolde felt the vein beneath her feet. She could kindle a barrier. The Guard was waiting for that gesture. Her body barely held any heat. Blankets, lamp oil, and wounded people lay a few steps from the soldiers.

She kept her hands open.

“Tend the wounded,” she told the neighbors. “Copy everyone’s names. Include the watchman.”

Soren kept his sword raised.

“You come with me.”

Kaoran emerged from the drain and stood beside Isolde. Enna raised a pair of blood-covered forceps.

“If anyone fights here, I’ll use their organs as replacements,” she said.

The officer lowered his blade a finger’s width.

A bugle sounded from the road. Reinforcements were coming.

“We’re leaving,” Kaoran said.

Isolde looked at Sava. The miner nodded. The copies would leave before the soldiers. Mella had the names. Doven kept the gear. Each piece of evidence lay in different hands.

Teren opened a route through the crowd. Isolde and Kaoran walked toward the laundry. The neighbors closed the space behind them.

“What’s your name?” Nia shouted.

Isolde turned.

The girl waited beside her mother. Behind her, the drain entrance spewed red water, and Sel’s covered body lay beneath a blanket.

“Today, Iria,” she replied.

“And tomorrow?”

Isolde covered her hair with the gray hood.

“Tomorrow your mother will need help with that arm. Stay with her.”

She left through the channel before the reinforcements reached the bridge.

Kaoran led her to an abandoned shed among the gardens. They waited there while the Guard searched the watercourse. Isolde’s hands were swollen, a cut marked her brow, and mud filled her boots. Her side hurt with every deep breath.

“Twenty-six,” she said.

“Twenty-six alive,” Kaoran replied.

“Sel came out too.”

“Yes.”

Isolde rested her back against the wall. She took the map from its cover and drew one line through Sel’s name. The line remained when she looked away from the paper.

“Sel was on my map,” she said.

Kaoran opened the bandage box.

“The machine kept running after the alarm. Who could have stopped it then?”

Isolde looked at the crossed-out name. She needed to know who had given that order and keep Sel’s name beside it.

Isolde offered her left hand for him to check the fingers. The numbness reached her wrist. Kaoran released the strap, massaged her forearm, and checked the pulse.

“It will come back,” he said. “You kept pressure on it too long.”

“Enna will need help.”

“The Guard controls the laundry.”

“Mella knows another entrance.”

They waited until night. Teren appeared with dry clothes and a flour mark on his forehead. The signal meant the way was clear.

Enna had turned Mella’s barn into an infirmary. The wounded lay on tables, sacks, and doors taken off their hinges. Pella’s arm was immobilized. Emon remained unconscious while Enna prepared to remove the rod. Varek’s watchman lay beside the hearth with his ankle splinted.

Isolde covered her face and entered through the back.

“I need a steady hand,” Enna said.

Kaoran took a place beside Emon. Isolde prepared water, thread, and forceps. The operation lasted an hour. The rod had grazed the intestine and passed through muscle. When Enna removed it, Emon lost so much blood that his pulse disappeared beneath their fingers.

Isolde warmed blankets, kept the lamps steady, and counted breaths. The core could give heat. It had no power to close flesh without human work.

Emon began breathing strongly again.

“If he makes it through the night, he’ll have a chance,” Enna said.

The watchman woke during the stitching. He tried to rise and screamed when he moved his ankle. Teren brought a shovel closer, but Isolde shook her head.

“We got you out of the second level,” she told the man.

He looked around the barn full of miners.

“The machine.”

“It’s still not running.”

“Tyre ordered it kept running.”

Sava approached.

“After the first collapse?”

The watchman closed his eyes.

“The transmission core could have been trapped. It’s worth more than the season’s quota. The officer told us to evacuate the supervisors and keep it turning until the part was out.”

“There were twenty-seven people beneath it,” Teren said.

“I know.”

“And you obeyed.”

“My brother works in the blue gallery. Tyre knows his debt.”

Fear had occupied another hand on the map.

“Do you have the order?” Isolde asked.

The man touched the metal circle at his neck.

“The code is on the back.”

Sava removed the badge. On its inner face were a code and a time. They matched the machine’s log. They proved the equipment had remained active for thirteen minutes after the alarm.

“Will you testify?” Isolde asked.

“If I do, they take my brother.”

“We can copy the code and record that we found you unconscious. The decision can wait until he has a way out.”

“Why are you giving me time?”

“We have to get your brother out before your testimony cuts off his escape routes. You can give us his shift first.”

The watchman looked at the floor.

“I heard something underneath when the beam fell,” he said. “I thought the ceiling was roaring.”

Isolde waited. The man gave her his brother’s name and the hour he entered the blue gallery.

Sava copied the code. She returned the badge before the Guard came looking for the man.