That One Time I Went on a Quest

We All Have Lost (2/2)

The refinery is a grey monstrosity of stone wedged against the cliffs. Inside, behind two massive cylindrical crushers that churn with laborious thunder, is the entrance to the mines. A steel cabled winch, worked by two giants, is pulling a train of mine carts filled with glistening ore up the steep decline.

As the carts crest the final rise they pull into a looped track with huge claw-like fixtures at the bottom. At the pull of a great lever only a little giant can reach, the entire loop rises up on steel struts and tilts toward the crushers. The cascade of ore and their subsequent decimation under rows of giant metal teeth is so deafening, it puts dragon roars to shame.

Haylis, who has volunteered to be my guide down here (for reasons I could not possibly fathom), yells with her mouth on my ear. 'We'll take the last cart down! They tell me Oon'Shei is on the third level.'

'Why is he here instead of...anywhere else?!' I yell back.

'The little giants believe that their souls go to the stone after they die. They've dug endless catacombs in the Ranges apparently – in fact, the mining crew dug into one earlier today. They've been celebrating.'

'They built this mine too?'

Haylis shoots me a look that reads what do you think, idiot?

The inside of the mine cart is disgustingly wet and slimy with greyish mud. Although her brows couldn't be more furrowed, Haylis doesn't complain. Now that I think about it, she hasn't complained at all so far, about the work, the dirt, anything.

Neither have I, actually. Somehow, taking a precarious mine cart deep into the bowels of the earth to visit a grieving giant seems natural, like this is what we usually do on a day off.

The carts descend fast enough to beat up a strong gust. There are very few lights down here; torches, all dim and eerily blue-flamed, are sparse and hung up so high they're no brighter than firebugs. The air is breathlessly humid; water is everywhere: dripping out of the rock, running in streams down the decline, puddling at the bends and hidden pits around the corners...

Couldn't see my own hands, even as I hold them up to my face. The carts seem to be going in a clockwise spiral. Every once in a while a gaping hole of a darker shade of black would open up on the left, leading off to horizontal tunnels that are apparently abandoned.

At what feels like the second lap of the spiral, the walls begin to glitter. By their whitish luminescence I could see Haylis pointing ahead. 'This is all magisite,' she shouts above the wind. 'They – I mean we – make dry powder from it.' She giggles as the mine cart runs straight through a big puddle, sending up a putrid splash. 'Ironic, right?'

I couldn't hold back the question any longer. 'How are you enjoying any of this?!'

Her slap on my face might mean to be playful, but her words are dead serious. 'Would you rather be constantly staring into the sky, waiting for the dragons to come?'

Just as my neck begins to hurt from all the twisted turns, the mine carts pull into a sudden stop at what looks like the nexus point of a tunnel network. Down here the rock faces are so thick with luminous dots it feels like strolling through a canvas of stars...if stars were covered in icky slime and made the skin burn.

Suddenly there's a flash of white light in one of the deeper tunnels, followed by a muffled boom. Haylis points to it. 'Let's stay away from the working face. Oon'Shei wouldn't be there; he'd want a quiet spot.'

As we speak, a little giant emerges from the tunnel carrying what looks like a tower shield in one hand and a massive pickaxe in the other. On his back is a basket filled with glittering ore. He looks at us inquisitively, head tilted to one side. After a short performance on the silent bells, courtesy of Haylis, he points to a pitch black tunnel on the left.