Vol

I got the powder and delivered it to him two days ago, but that damned Elf still hasn’t done anything with it. I haven’t even been able to contact him since I slipped it to him along with the note about where our passage was. I’ve tried to keep an eye on him, but that Elf moves as silently as a shadow, and has started slumping his shoulders and bending his knees as he walks so he won’t stick out as much. A smart move personally, but exceedingly unhelpful when I’m trying to tell who is going outside. That, plus the fact that he is closer to the light outside the door, meaning I’ll only see his silhouette, effectively hides him from me. If I didn’t know better I’d say he specifically was trying to hide from me.

All this to say, I haven’t a clue when he’s going to set it off, if he’s going to set it off at all. He might be waiting to rendezvous with me, but I can’t just assume that, otherwise I’ll be caught off guard.

I twist around on my straw mattress grumpily. Yesterday I stayed up all night from the stress, and yet I still can’t get to sleep. Hang my responsibilities and promise to Bakken! I should have said I’d explode everything myself. That way at least I’d know when it was going to happen and could get some decent sleep beforehand.

But then I wouldn’t be able to appear to be guiding the panicked Dwarves to the surface. I guess there is no good solution for me. I breathe out a tiny sigh, which is probably swallowed by the noise of Derik snoring from above me. I roll over again, shut my eyes, and pull my blanket over my head trying to block out the noise.

But as with any noise I try to block out, it only seems to get louder. I stifle a groan and take my blanket off my head, disappointed that it didn’t work. Then I blink, seeing a familiar face slowly resume creeping past me towards the door. He must have thought I was just rolling over in my sleep. That’s not important though. What’s important is why the heck Golik is out of bed. And why is he trying to be stealthy about it? I watch as he leaves and mentally shrug. Not really my problem, unless of course Faladel chooses this night of all the nights to set off the explosion. Then I might have to kill him if he interferes, as that Elf probably doesn’t have the guts to do it himself. He’d probably invite him to join us.

Faladel is too innocent overall, nobody buys his “I’ve been in jail for twenty-two years” card, but he still sticks to it. It’s like he wants us to believe elves are either immortal, which is ridiculous, or they are sending children to war, which is equally ridiculous. Also, the fact that he actually associates with Golik is testimony to that absurd trusting streak. Golik is obviously suspicious after all. Some of the simplest things that a Dwarf kid learns seem completely surprising to him, so I think he must be an idiot. And then he goes and does something like meeting the separate dealers and tracking down all the murdenblum I traded them and buying it up with little difficulty. One second he’s a socially awkward nincompoop, the next he’s brilliant and super charismatic. What the heck is wrong with him?

But Faladel doesn’t even seem to keep an eye on any of his den mates, much less notice Golik’s suspicious activities. I doubt that Elf will ever make it home, especially if he keeps trusting people like me and Golik. I certainly won’t be helping him get home, I’d get killed in no time. No, I’ll be going my own way after I get out of this madhouse. I’ll be off to a life in the lap of luxury, and never have to spend another second in a cave. I think I’ll do very well in politics, perhaps as a Mayor, or a Lord of some sort, that way I’ll be exempt from the army draft. I slowly begin to drift off, smiling at the thought of everything that I’ll have when I get out of here. That Elf might be ridiculously naive, but he makes very good escape plans; I’ll give him that.

I wake up to complete chaos and groan as the floor beneath me shakes and I hear the rumble of rocks falling in the distance. Of course I don’t sleep one night, just start to sleep the next night, and then everything goes insane.

As I sit up, rub my eyes, and yawn the Dwarves nearby me topple out of bed in a mass of flesh and tangled blankets. They push themselves off the floor, just to be trampled by those who have already regained their feet and are rushing to get outside. Already the noise of people screaming and shouting fills the outside air and the inside of the den.

Damn, this will require a lot of work.

From inside the bag that I use as a pillow I pull out the megaphone that I had bought for this specific occasion.

“Shut up you lot of idiots! No need to trample each other! Have you all suddenly gone mad?”

“But we’re all going to die!” Shrieks one of Wicket's newbies. I never bothered to learn his name as he seemed like an idiot. Apparently my judgment of him was right, and his dire prediction looks like it’s going to only instill more panic in the rest of them.

“No we’re not!” I shout at them, “I’ve been here for five years, and I haven’t died, so you all know it’s possible. Bakken entrusted me with not letting a single one of you die!” Not exactly true, but using his name seems to inspire confidence in them and calms them down. “If you follow my directions to the letter, no one here will die! This quake is just like the last one. Nothing drastic is going to happen. We’re all going above ground for a couple of hours, except now it’s midnight so we’ll all be freezing our buttocks off.” My attempt at humor garners a couple of weak laughs.

“Now everyone get up, and help your neighbor up too.” The Dwarves quickly move under my command and I feel a surge of satisfaction. Seems like I was born to leadership. “Everyone up? Let’s go! Remember, be speedy but don’t run. Don’t fall behind either though, since if you’re last we won’t hear your shouts for us to slow down.”

I herd the less panicked now group of Dwarves out into the mobs flooding towards the Lifts. Of course none of them have our group size, so we are easily able to push and shove other Dwarves out of the way as we head to the Lifts.

Mental calculations of time run through my head, and I come up short. At our current pace, I won’t have the time I need left to get into position. I gesture Bakken’s second in command, Lokard, up to the front with me.

“I lied.” I admit to him, bending close and talking in a hurried, low voice so we won’t be heard. “I’m supposed to be guiding everyone, not just our group. Can you take over?” Lokard nods, and I smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good man.” This will save time and set up my alibi/probable death.

I press up against the wall and watch my group run past, with an unsuspecting Lokard in the lead. A smirk grows on my face as I turn and head back the way we came. I glide around the edges of the flood of Dwarves charging the lifts. I wonder how quickly the tide would turn if they realized that freedom and riches were in the opposite direction.

I take a path that I’ve memorized so well by now that I could probably go through it in the dark. But I’ll need a light when I get to my destination, so I grab one anyways. Past the dens, to a spot near the showers, go to the unmapped turnoff. Left, right, through a passage that’s so skinny I have to suck my belly in, three more lefts, and then a right. Then straight for twelve turnoffs, a left at the fork, and I’m at the Murdenblum cave. Now I need to get to work, there’s not much time before I’m supposed to meet up with Faladel. Time to mine as much of this treasure trove as possible before I need to leave.