Songkeeper by Gillian Bronte Adams

Author:Gillian Bronte Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gilead Publishing
Published: 2016-03-09T21:15:56+00:00

18

After three days of back-breaking work, digging was starting to lose its appeal. Ky pushed his shovel into the dirt, careful not to exert too much pressure on the cracked handle, and swiped the sweat from his brow with his elbow. His damp jacket clung to his back, and the chill was slowly seeping beneath his skin. He worked from the top of the pile with others below clearing away the earth he dislodged. Another heave, another tug, another twinge of sore muscles, and he dumped another shovelful into the waiting wheelbarrow, topping it off, and Syd—Paddy’s assigned little brother—trundled it away.

Right about now, he’d seriously consider trading his right arm for some of Hawkness’s ryree powder. If anything could make clearing this passage a cinch, it was that. Of course, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t also bring the ceiling down on his head.

“Oi, Ky.” Paddy’s shout offered a welcome distraction from the continuous rhythm of bending and lifting. With a grunt, Ky straightened and turned. The red-head stood below, arms crossed over his chest, something bundled under one elbow. He jerked his chin. “Somethin’ for y’ to see.”

It was the first time they’d spoken in three days . . . might even be the first time they’d seen each other since Ky threw himself into digging and Paddy took charge of the street project. Trailing the shovel behind, Ky skidded down the pile past five runners working at various heights with shovels and pick-axes. Three days of careful digging and shoring up behind had cleared another twenty feet of what seemed to be a continuing passage—progress that was both encouraging and disheartening at the same time.

Twenty feet done.

No telling how many left to go.

But the runners had greeted his half-formed plan with astonishing enthusiasm, throwing themselves completely into the work. In a way, it spoke more of their desperation than anything else. Some dug, others carted dirt back through the cavern to reinforce the seals over the other tunnels, while still others slipped into the city above as singles or pairs and paced out the streets between them and the wall.

All things considered, Ky reckoned it a mighty fine operation.

One Cade could have been proud of masterminding.

At the base of the wall, clear of the line of traffic, Paddy squatted and unfolded a scrap of cloth peppered with a tangled mess of gridlines, squiggles, and all manner of scribbles and mathematical equations, the like of which Ky couldn’t hope to interpret. Fingers splayed, he smoothed the edges with a meticulous care that spoke of pride and accomplishment.

“Runners finished pacin’ out the streets today, and I’ve mapped out this quadrant of the city and the tunnel beneath. It’s not perfect, but it’s accurate enough. I don’t think you’ll like what we found though.”

Was that a touch of satisfaction in his voice?

An unspoken I told you so?

Ky crossed his arms. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t bother yourself with the calculations”—this in an offhand way; Paddy knew well enough that Ky had no

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