My nose throbbed and my legs ached as I hurried along the dark tunnel to town. One day this passage would be expanded for busy traffic to the new residence hall we’d been hollowing out. But for the moment it was just a long rectangle of darkness, a rudimentary runic ventilation system sending a chilly breeze through it. Sometimes I’d wondered why the tunnel hadn’t been the first thing we dug out fully, but it was a pointless rumination. We had our instructions, and we carried them out without asking questions. I doubted even Tradfast knew why we did what we did.

The silence of the passage wrapped around me, and I squeezed the sapphire for comfort. Its smooth surface whispered riches to me through my fingers, but at the same time, the gem leaked a cold worry into my heart. The journey between now, and selling it, was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done, and could well end with me shanked and thrown into a lava pit. I gulped and squeezed the gem harder. Perhaps Airon was right, and the sapphire was more trouble than it was worth.

I shook my head. No, I’d rather be shanked and my body incinerated than live as a miner for another second. I continued my walk, the echo of my footsteps the only sound in my ears.

After about half an hour I emerged onto my daily road to work. Crude stone buildings, one or two stories high with few windows, crowded either side. They were hollowed straight out of the rock, a far cry from the pretty timber constructions the rich lived in. Dirty orange lamps hung from doorways and small posts. Like the lamps at the mine, but bigger, they were made of strong glass, with a slow burning pool of oil in the bottom. From four holes in their tops came oily fumes that coated my face in a slimy film as I walked past. The ventilation tubes above were meant to take the smoke out the cavern, but they didn't do it fast enough, and one never risked breathing too deeply. Strangely enough, there wasn’t any sign of earthquake damage. I’d expected a few cracks at least, but it appeared only the mine had been struck. That fact relieved me, not because I had any love for this place, but because I didn't want any trouble getting through.

I continued along the street and took a turn towards the town square. This wasn’t the route I usually took; generally I tried to avoid other dwarves on my way ‘home’. But today I wanted to get out as fast as possible, and the busier parts were generally safer anyhow.

The street widened, and a gang of children raced past me, slashing at each other with sticks. An ugly lizard-dog chased after, snapping its jaws. I took a stride back, unwilling to risk a bite, and scowled. I hated children, had since I was a kid myself, and didn't like lizard-dogs much either.

I made to go forwards again, and nearly tripped over a child chasing the scaly mongrel.

“Oi, watch it!” came a shout. It was from a middle-aged woman, perhaps forty, hanging out some grey sheets. All sheets that got hung out ended up grey here, from the oil smoke that got worked into the fabric over the years. The water they used to wash the sheets wasn’t exactly clean either.

“I’m watching it,” I called back, bitterly. Doubtless more than one of the little savages running around were hers, or perhaps her children’s children.

After a few more turns, the maze of dirty houses opened up into the town square. It was ringed with semi-permanent wooden stalls selling various necessities. Women lined up in front of them, baskets filled with vegetables. Long, wrinkled carrots featured most prominently, alongside giant mushrooms. The little meat on sale was lizard. I ignored the haggling, gossiping crowds and advanced to the miners’ dormitory.

It was an enormous cube that had been hollowed, with little skill, out of solid stone. No one ever bothered to clean the walls, and it dripped with grime from the lantern fumes. Two tall doors stood permanently open with their hinges rusted to lumps; there was no need to close them, because there was nothing worth stealing inside. We kept our pay in wallets and spent it quickly, or some, like Airon, had it written into a company savings paper. Personal effects were kept on the body, in handy reach. No one bothered to keep spare clothes. When one shirt or pair of trousers wore out, the wearer just bought another. The barracks was a place to sleep and eat, it was not a home to anyone.

The only reason I had come was for food. The next town big and rich enough to have a jeweller’s was at least a day’s walk away, and my stomach grumbled. I rubbed it and walked in.

The dingy corridor smelled of sweat and grease. Oval holes on either side led to various small black rooms strewn with mouldy blankets. A phlegmy cough echoed from one, and I hurried past. Disease was the biggest killer down here. Reaching a ripe old age, like the man I’d killed had attained, was a one in a hundred piece of good luck. If you could call living down here for sixty years good luck.

At the end of the corridor was a staircase. I descended, the stench of oil giving way to the stench of slop. As per usual, the food here was of the cheap variety. But at least it was free for any miner to eat.

I opened the kitchen door to be greeted by a cloud of steam. Through the haze I could see the long, narrow kitchen hall, boiling pots of browny-orange gloop covering tables on either side. The half-dozen cooks, without exception hard-faced middle aged women, mashed half-black carrots and slimy mushrooms into paste, which they poured into the ‘soup’ they were ‘cooking’. One approached me,spoon in hand, foul-smelling brown and orange splattered down her apron.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, face sour. I gave her a smile.

“I’m here for some food.”

“Not today.”

“Not today? What do you mean? Do I have to pay now?”

How cheap had the mining company got?

The woman scowled. “You’ll have to buy something at the market. Some army platoon is coming today, our food is going to them.”

I blinked. “What’s coming?”

“Some army platoon.”

“The army?” I nearly fell over in surprise. “What are they doing here?”

She scowled again. “I don’t know, we were only told this morning. We’re to feed them before they set up camp somewhere.”

I understood why she was in such a foul mood. Probably the cooks had stewing carrots all morning. But I needed something to eat. I’d devoured my lunch an hour before the disaster, and had no intention of starving all the way to the nearest half-rich town. And I needed to get on my way now. I had no intention of running into a bunch of soldiers.

“Can’t you spare me some bread or something?” I pleaded. “I’m starving, I forgot to bring my lunch this morning.”

“We don’t have anything.” She brandished the spoon at me. “Go down to the market and buy something.”

I looked around the kitchen behind her, and saw a large loaf to her left. It looked coarse and chewy, and had stringy bits poking out of it. No worse than usual.

“Your pot’s boiling over.” I pointed to the right, and as the hapless cook turned her head, I jumped past her left. With both hands I grabbed the loaf, then spun on my heels, and sprinted back past her.

“Thief!” she shouted, but made no attempt to pursue as I ran up the stairs and through the corridor, for what I earnestly hoped was the last time.

After I made it past the barracks, I slowed to a fast walk, glancing around nervously, clutching the bread to my chest. The buildings here were crowded together more closely than in the rest of town. Many lamps had burned out, their owners too poor to replace them. The sounds of the market drifted from behind, but apart from that and my footsteps, silence reigned in the twisted alleys.

This was the worst part of town, but it was a shortcut to the main road, and I wanted to get out before the army arrived. I had no idea what mess they’d cause when they turned up. There couldn’t be a good reason for them coming to this town. I hurried along, keeping an eye on the alleys.

A shadow shifted between two bent buildings.

“That’s a nice piece of bread you’ve got there,” rasped a voice. My heart skipped a beat, and I jumped back.

“Who’s there?” I said, eyes fixed on the shadow.

A dwarf emerged into the flickering orange glow of a half-dead lamp, and I gasped, empty stomach churning.

His bald head was cracked and blackened, like mud left to dry beside hot lava. Black blood and white pus coated the top half of his face, running past milky eyes. His beard was little more than a few patches of hair. An outsider. The reason most weren’t stupid enough to come here.

“Get away from me!” I shouted, and stumbled back a few steps, holding one palm out as if to stop him. Perhaps he had been a miner once, perhaps even the one Airon had known. But now he was more ghoul than dwarf. It was rumoured that despite the sun protection provided, those who worked outside for too long contracted strange diseases: nightmarish cancers and sweating sicknesses that could be transferred to anyone they touched. I didn't know if it was true. But I wasn’t going to risk it. I took another pace back, and bumped against the building behind.

“Stop!” cried the dwarf, as loud as his dried up voicebox would let him. “We just want a little bread. Just a little scrap each.” A length of steel glinted in his hand.

We? In my periphery more outsiders emerged. Each one held some kind of weapon, a stick, a broken bottle, a big chunk of rock. The biggest one had a bulging growth covering half his face, weeping clear liquid from little red holes.

“Come on,” the first one rasped. “Give us the bread.”

Usually I just gave muggers what they wanted. Nothing in my pockets was worth my life. But not this time. The sapphire was my life, my new life I hoped from the bottom of my heart waited around the corner. I knew if I gave the outsiders bread, they’d demand the rest of what I had too, and my dreams were over.

I shoulder charged the smallest one, the one with the bottle. He gave a shocked wheeze as I smashed him to the ground. I brought my foot down on his nose with a wet crunch, and sprinted away.

“Get him!” cried the first outsider.

The sound of heavy footsteps chased after me as I pounded through the maze of buildings. My would-be muggers were fast; hauling buckets of stone under the burning sun had strengthened their legs, whereas only my upper body was strong. They grew closer and closer, until the ghastly rattle of one’s breathing was right next to me. I felt his fingers poke at my shoulder as he tried to get a grab me and pull me down.

An orange glare hit my eyes, and the claustrophobic buildings on either side disappeared. Lamps hung from the ceiling here at regular intervals, and the path was smoothly tiled. I had reached the road out. But where I had blinked at the light and slowed down for just a moment, the outsider hadn’t hesitated. I felt his bony fingers dig into my upper arm, and he pulled me back.

Then he cried out, and let go to run back into the shadows. I turned to look at what had startled him, and opened my mouth in shock.

Ranks of dwarves in polished steel were marching towards me, footsteps keeping time to a steady beat. Together their spears made a steel forest, their shields steel walls. I’d never seen anything like it, and they frightened me.

Just as the cook had said, an army had come to the mines. Why, I didn't want to find out.