Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
“I did. But you can prove me wrong.” She points at the pack she’s placed in the center of the table, almost atop poor Kipp. “I assume you all know how to pack your bag for tunneling?”
Everyone pauses. I exchange a worried look with Gwenna and then glance over at Hawk, but he’s not looking at me, thank Asteria.
“We haven’t gotten that far yet. We’ve been working on drills,” Hawk says. “Physical fitness.”
“Spoken like a true Taurian,” Magpie continues, and gives her head a little shake. “Look, I won’t say that you don’t need to be in good shape to hold your own in the tunnels, but as long as you’re smart and know what you’re doing, it’s not that important.”
There’s a smack against wood, and I realize when Hawk stands up that the smack was his agitated tail hitting the nearest chair. He leans forward, his hands braced on the table. “Not important? Do you know how many idiots Taurians have to retrieve out of the tunnels every year because humans deem it ‘not important’ to be competent at their mucking jobs?”
“I’m the teacher here,” Magpie says in a hard voice. “You want me to teach or not?”
Hawk’s nostrils flare so widely that the ring in his nose jumps. He looks furious, his tail lashing back and forth hard. It smacks Mereden in the arm, but her eyes are just as big and worried as mine.
“Fine,” he says after a moment. His voice is flat with distaste. “You teach. Prove me wrong.”
“Good,” Magpie declares. She stands a little straighter, looking more authoritative by the moment. “You’re all going to get a lesson on what to pack, and then we’re going camping.”
“Camping?” Gwenna sputters. “What the muck does that have to do with tunneling?”
The guild master’s eyes gleam. “That’s what I’m about to show you.”
* * *
A few hours later, we’ve all got bags packed, Squeaker has enough dried food for several days (plus I’ve left instructions for the nestmaid to look after her), and we head off. Hawk wants us to march from Magpie’s dorm all the way to a camp somewhere in the distant trees far outside the city, but Magpie insists that we catch a ride instead.
“Won’t do us any good if they’re all too tired to learn,” she tells Hawk. “And like you said, they’re not in great shape.”
She wins this battle, too, and I worry that Hawk’s going to be in a terrible mood by the time the day is over.
We ride out on the back of an empty vegetable wagon leaving the market now that its goods have been dropped off. It’s not the fastest ride, but it’s the right price, apparently. We all climb on and sway along as the mules pull down the cobbled, twisting streets. The pack on my back feels cumbersome, but not as heavy as the ones Hawk has been making us carry. I sit next to Gwenna on one side, Mereden and Lark on the other side of the wagon. Kipp races back and forth, his house a large shield on his back, and doesn’t seem to want to conserve his energy at all. Maybe he doesn’t need to. He seems to have enough enthusiasm for all of us. Master Magpie rides with the driver, talking his ear off, and Hawk sits on the back of the wagon, his heavy legs hanging over the edge, almost as if he doesn’t want to be with us. It makes me a little worried. I glance over at him on the far end of the wagon but he’s not been very talkative today. Is it Magpie? Or is he regretting what we did last night?
As we leave the city behind, the rutted road curves past the “Dig for Artifacts” field, which makes Magpie point and laugh as people shovel away at holes in the midst of the loose dirt. “Look at those fools.”
“Are they fools for wanting to find something?” Mereden’s voice is wistful. We all watch the people in the field digging and sweating, using shovels and buckets to move mountains of dirt aside. “Most people can only dream of finding an artifact. I understand why they’d spend a few pennies for the chance.”
“No one ever finds anything,” Lark admits, shrugging. “It’s just people fleecing the tourists.”
I’m not as jaded as Magpie and Lark. Part of me still wants to go out there and try my own luck. I’d be one of the people out there with a spade and pail, happily digging away. I squint-watch the blobs of people with wistful admiration. They have a dream, and they’re going after it in the best way they can. Nothing wrong with that.
Gwenna nudges me. She’s seated next to me after making both Mereden and Kipp switch places with her. “Everything okay?”