Kyankith

Kyankith is a little like my weird uncle, although I'm not related to him by blood. No one in the clan is. He came to us as a solitary, unhatched egg, for which he considers himself very mysterious, and he'll tell anyone who listens that that was what drew him to our other really mysterious clan member, Jast. He moves like the Skydancer, turns his head like him, and has turned scouting into his passion and his obsession, although to a much further extent than Jast has. Kyankith is a cartographer and a spelunker as well as the leader of his own little questing party.

Which is why I'm glad to be stuck down here with him. Kyankith knows caves, and he knows our own network better than any of us, even the Ridgebacks, who built most of it.

"Quiet down, everyone," he's saying, calm even as the cries fill the darkness. "Who's here? Say your name, if you can."

We sound off. Strid. Charisa. Lawen. Campanula. Beta Constant and her sister Grinner Carson. Camphor. I hear movement tracing across the cave and Kyankith mutters to someone who's crying uncontrollably.

"It's Wraith," the crying dragon manages to say. "She - she's here, but..."

I feel like I've just had a chunk removed from my chest. The speaker is Sarval, Wraith's mate.

"What happened?" someone is asking. "What was that?"

Strid's voice. She sounds as calm as Kyankith, even though her mate Sere isn't here, or if he is, he couldn't answer. "It was a landslide," she says. "A big one."

"All that rain," someone groans. "All winter long. It must have softened the ground."

"And that frost," someone says, right next to me. It's Connie. I press myself against her and she leans reassuringly back as she continues. "Remember, right around the shortest days of the year? It must have damaged so many root systems."

"Everyone hush," Kyankith says. "Sarval, are you injured?"

It's a long time before he can get Sarval to answer. Meanwhile, someone is trying to strike a light, and Strid catches them before they have the chance. "A fire will use up oxygen," she says sharply. "Being able to breathe is more important than being able to see."

"Who feels up to explore a little?" Kyankith calls out. "Constant, good, Strid, Charisa, will you three go around to everyone else and see if anyone else is hurt? Feel around for any openings while you're at it. Lawen, love, I think this corner was part of our den. Could you feel around and find my kit, please?"

There's a period of rustling and sniffling while everyone moves around. Campanula has stopped answering. I step towards where she was, and feel the delicate bones and cold skin of someone's wing under me. It's too small to be anything but the wing of a Fae. I recoil in horror and stay where I am while everyone else moves around me.

"Right," Kyankith is saying when I tune back into the conversation. "Everyone, say your names again."

Strid. Charisa. Constant and Carson. An extended, shuddering breath, and then Sarval. Lawen.

"Campanula?" Kyankith asks sharply. "Camphor, can you hear me?" When there's no answer, he turns sharply and asks everyone to find them.

In the ensuing rustle of activity, I reach out hesitantly. The wing is still there. "I think I've found Brambling," I say into the blackness. "Or Gaultheria, but I don't think she sleeps in here."

There's a moment of silence. Then Strid announces that she's found Campanula, and the outlook isn't good. Sarval begins to cry again, in a muffled kind of way, like he's stuffed a wrist into his mouth. It's a minute before Strid says that it's actually Campanula and Camphor, the two twisted in knots around one another as they often were, but more still than any living Spiral would be.

We spend what feels like hours moving the dead to one side. The two Spirals, Brambling, Wraith, and two more Tundras that Connie identifies as Fir and his daughter Rhiain. "We had been playing Higher or Lower together," she tells us. "It must be them."

Next comes exploring the space. Lawen has found Kyankith's satchel, and he patches up a few hurts while we painstakingly feel out the walls. Charisa calls out that she's found an intact tunnel opening, her voice shrill with excitement.

"Good, now let's nobody get in it until we know it's safe," Kyankith says, stopping the initial rush towards the perceived exit. He takes Strid and Connie to explore it, and it isn't long before they come back with nothing but the bodies of more dead.

We huddle together away from the walls. Carson's next to me, and she keeps shrinking away as I try to press my shoulder into her for comfort. Strid, on my other side, doesn't lean into you like a Tundra would, so I guess I have to sit here with no one to lean on.

"We don't know what lies at the end of either tunnel," Kyankith is telling us. "We could attempt to dig our way out, but we would risk causing further instability."

"Won't the others be looking for us?" Connie asks.

"Yes, and the scratching sounds of digging may attract the attention of Wendenbrae or Tuarthanal," Kyankith says, "but if it brings down the roof on all our heads, it won't matter."

"What if we just scuffed our feet on the floor?" Lawen suggests.

"We could do that, but let's wait until we hear the Ridgebacks moving. You know how much noise they make when they're tunneling."

A collective "Mmhmm" goes around the circle. We all know exactly how noisy they can be.

Then, from my side, Carson says, "I don't feel so good."

I'm shouldered aside in the rush. Everyone wants to get close to her and try and help. Kyankith is ordering them all back, and Strid getting in close to pass her delicate palms over Carson, who groans.

"I can't tell what's wrong," I overhear Strid whisper to Kyankith.

He tells us to get some sleep, if we can, and says he's going to fully explore the tunnels. I stay at first, but trying to sleep in a cave full of moans and bodies is like trying to sleep halfway through climbing up a waterfall. When Kyankith comes back next, I rise and go with him.

Some of the tunnels have only partially fallen in. We're feeling along walls that have slid down to the floor, squeezing over chunks of ceiling. I hear a scratching of pen on scroll as Kyankith maps our route in the dark, although I don't know why he bothers. He won't be able to see it even if he manages to get an accurate sketch down.

Around the corner, I'm surprised to realize I can see something, an indistinct shape in the darkness. I shake my head, thinking it's a hallucination, but Kyankith rushes forward, calling, "Pip! Pip!"

The light brightens and I find myself squinting. I can make out the slinking silhouette of Kyankith, illuminated from a point low to the ground in front of him. The light source shivers and plays over the walls as he picks it up, cradling it to his chest.

It's his familiar. The mouse is glowing more brightly than I've ever seen, although that might just be the newness of light to my eyes.

We return to the main cave. Unlike a fire, Pip needs no oxygen to put out light. It's good to be able to see the faces of everyone down there with me, but one glance towards the far wall reminds me of our losses and I turn away. We can see how bad the walls look, too, with great clods of earth and chunks of basalt piled everywhere.

Connie looks up at us with tear streaks making furrows down the fur on her face. "Carson's gone," she says without inflection.

I register this bit of news with a dull sort of shock. Everyone else looks as drained as I feel, except Sarval, who's gritting his teeth.

"I can't stand any more of this!"

"Sarval, calm down," Kyankith says, and Strid moves to restrain him, but he shakes her off.

"I can't stand this! I can't just sit here while we do nothing!"

"There's nothing we can do, at this point," Kyankith says reasonably. "Not until help arrives."

"Help?" Sarval gives a desperate, barking laugh. "For all we know, there'll be no help! Everyone else might be dead, just like Wraith!"

Connie turns away. Charisa is huddled against a massive segment of rock which has fallen from the ceiling.

"I'm going to find a way out of here if it's the last thing I do!" Sarval says, and spits in Kyankith's face. To his credit, Kyankith takes it calmly, and wipes it off as Sarval turns.

"Sarval, if you aren't careful, it may well be the last thing you do," he calls after him, and then turns to Strid as Sarval's tail vanishes into the tunnel. "Come on. We can at least make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

I hurry after them, not knowing how I'll be able to help, but not wanting to just sit there and wait. Pip is going with Kyankith, and I find myself wanting to follow him so I can stay in the light.

"Sarval!" Kyankith's calling when I almost bump into him from behind. "Sarval, stop!"

Gravel and mud are shooting backwards in waves as Sarval shoves them behind himself. He's up against a loose block of earth and rock, hind feet planted in the cave-in as he drags soil toward himself and flings it between his legs. "I'll get us out," he's grunting as he goes. "This is how a Tundra digs! I'll get us out!"

"That wall isn't stable!" Kyankith says, and tries to move forward, but Sarval turns, teeth bared, and swipes at him. We fall back, shocked, and Sarval wraps himself around a boulder, levering it out. "Stop!" Kyankith tries again.

Strid turns to me. "Run," she says, as calmly as if she were telling me the sky were blue.

We race back up the tunnel, Kyankith hard on our heels, as the walls shudder. I burst into the main cave and collide with Charisa. Strid stops herself gracefully, and Kyankith digs one claw into the ground to swing himself and face the tunnel just as a whoosh of displaced air comes from it. Everyone holds still, even Pip the mouse, terrified to move. The groan and whoomph of collapsing earth comes dully from the tunnel we once hoped would be our exit.

When the shaking is over, I stand up and shake the grit from my coat. Our ceiling has held, at least. Pip's light is faint, but still illuminating familiar and, more importantly, living faces.

Kyankith stands up, taking his wings off himself and Lawen. "Now," he says, folding them, "would everyone please consent to staying here until rescue arrives?"

No one argues this time. No one speaks, either, or moves except to shift into a new position. I could cry when I hear the faint sounds of claws on earth, and not just from relief. It's not even an hour since the ceiling fell on Sarval. He could have come out, too, if he had waited just an hour.

It's still night when we come out, which seems unreal. Surely we were down there for longer than that. I look around as everyone comes up, one by one. Last of all is Kyankith, walking slowly with his glowing mouse clinging to the fluff of his hat. He hesitates, and then goes over to where B is waiting, and I know that even though I'm going to have a hard time sleeping underground for a while, he's going to have it worse.