The deep, resonant sound of a horn echoed through the tunnels, vibrating off the stone walls and shaking dust loose from the ceilings.
Sonder froze mid-step near the tavern, the skewer of roasted meat slipping from her grasp and forgotten. A hush fell over the bustling market as the mournful blast sounded again.
Merchants and patrons stood still, their conversations cut short. The air felt charged with unspoken tension.
"What's happening?" someone asked aloud, their voice tinged with unease, but no one answered.
Nearby, a vendor muttered something in dwarvish, his face pale and drawn. Sonder caught fragments of his hurried words, but one was unmistakable—collapse.
The horn's mournful tone was a signal everyone understood—it meant disaster underground.
The crowd began to stir, moving with urgency. Dwarves hurried toward the source of the sound or back to the safety of their homes. The atmosphere shifted, a current of collective worry sweeping through the tunnel.
Sonder turned and made her way against the tide, heading back toward the tavern where she knew Vell would be.
As she approached, the tavern door flew open, and Vell stepped out, his expression grim. His eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on her.
"Sonder," he called, his voice sharp and urgent. "Come with me."
"What's going on?" she asked, quickly falling into step beside him.
"One of the lower mines has collapsed," he said, his tone clipped. "It's dangerous—very dangerous." He brushed a hand down his coat, as if steadying himself. "Let's see what we can do."
Her brow furrowed. "Don't mines and tunnels collapse all the time?"
"They do," he admitted, "but when one of the lower mines collapses, the damage doesn't stop there. The tunnels above can collapse too, like a house of cards. If we don't act fast, the entire network could come down." He quickened his pace. "This isn't politics, Sonder. This is survival."
The elevator creaked and groaned as it descended into the lower tunnels. The air grew damper and heavier the farther down they went.
By the time Sonder and Vell arrived, the scene was chaos. Dozens of dwarves scrambled to move rubble with pickaxes and bare hands, their voices overlapping in shouts and hurried commands. The mournful wails of trapped miners seeped through the cracks in the stone.
There was a dwarf foreman on the scene, barking orders with a voice that cut through the noise like steel. His face was streaked with dirt, his hands calloused and bloodied from digging.
"Master Vellichor!" the foreman called as they approached. Relief flickered across his features, but only briefly.
The foreman was one of the dwarves who had attended the meetings to support Lunt Senior's bid for Dwarf Lord. Of course he had recognized the mage.
"There must be something a wizard can do here," the foreman said.
"Maybe. What's the situation?" Vell asked.
"Tunnels seven and eight collapsed during the morning shift," the foreman explained, his words quick and precise. "We've got at least two dozen trapped, maybe more. Air's still moving, but it won't last if we don't clear this rubble fast. And the supports in tunnel nine are groaning—if they go, the entire lower level could come down."
Vell's sharp gaze swept over the scene. The rubble, the strained beams, the dwarves working tirelessly—all of it painted a clear picture of how dire the situation was. "I can stabilize the supports," he said, already moving toward the collapse.
The foreman nodded, his jaw tight. "Do whatever you need to, Master Wizard."
Vell turned to Sonder, his expression serious. "Stay back and keep out of harm's way."
Sonder stiffened, clutching the book she still carried. "Can't I help?"
He opened his mouth to argue, then reconsidered.
With a nod he said, "Yes, of course. What was I thinking? Just follow my instructions exactly—no risks."
Vell moved to the edge of the collapse, his hands glowing faintly. The crumbling supports shuddered, then began to glow with a faint bluish light. The creaking wood and groaning stone quieted, though the tension remained.
"I think this'll hold," Vell said, stepping back to examine his work.
Sonder tilted her head. "What is that?"
"The supports are in stasis now," he explained, gesturing to the faint blue glow. 'They won't budge unless I release them, run out of mana—or, you know, if I die." He offered a grim smile. "That should give us enough time to think of a plan."