The Underworld Crown (Series)

Chapter 17

It was impossible to tell what time of day – or night – it was. Slaves worked around the clock, meaning the melancholic clash of metal on rock filled my head even as I slept. The only indicator of how much time I'd spent in the mine was by how many shifts I'd completed. So far, I'd completed ten.

Every day it was the same monotonous schedule. A guard overlooking the cots timed how much sleeping time I had, so would wake me as soon as I'd reached the maximum seven hours. For breakfast, it was watery porridge followed by six hours of mining, stale bread for lunch, another six hours of mining and then a serving of stew for dinner.

This meant I'd been trapped in the mines for a total of five days. For such a small number, it certainly had the power to make me feel drained.

Sleeping time was my only motivation to get through the day, but every night I dreamt of the same woman with long red hair, pleading for my help. And every time, I'd wake up before I could ask her what she needed help with, leaving me with the faint aftertaste of her unspoken pain. It seemed that whether I was awake or asleep, I couldn't escape The Underworld.

As I lay on my makeshift cot, mentally preparing myself for another twelve hours of work, I clutched my bandaged and bruised hands protectively to my chest. My shoulder and arm muscles ached, although I'd been told that this pain was only temporary. The hand injuries, however, lasted much, much longer.

So far, I'd survived by acting on pilot mode. Although I could walk and talk, I mostly stuck to myself, avoiding as much socialisation as possible. While there did seem to be some friendly faces, fights broke out every day among miners during their shifts. Yesterday, someone threw their pickaxe at another slave, hitting them in the head – luckily, they were hit with the wooden end and knocked out, not killed. The perpetrator, however, had been dragged out of the cavern by the guards and hadn't been seen since.

I tried my best to avoid those kinds of people and by doing that, I assumed it was best to try to avoid all people. That was until someone in the first aid area caught my attention.

I sat up straight, so quickly my head spun. My seven hours of sleep weren't yet up, so I wandered closer to the first aid area, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me.

A young boy sat on a waiting stool, unattended by the busy nurses. He was crying silently, tears rolling down his cheeks as he slouched, clutching his right hand. His dark hair hung over his forehead, but there was no mistaking it – this was the boy I'd seen taken from his mother that night on the balcony.

I couldn't handle seeing the tears slide down his face and slowly crouched down next to him. The last thing I wanted was to scare him.

"Hey," I said softly.

He looked up, his deep brown eyes adorable despite being red and puffy. His cheeks were much chubbier than I'd imagined, but in an endearing way they reminded me of a bunny. A litter of freckles crossed his nose and cheeks. I smiled gently and his crying stemmed.

"It's okay," I cooed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Silence, then: "Your eyes are colourful," he said simply. "How do they have colour? People only have dark eyes."

I looked around the room and then leaned forward, as if to tell a secret. "You promise you won't tell anyone if I tell you the secret?"

He nodded enthusiastically; his crying now stopped completely.

"I'm from Earth," I whispered, looking at him meaningfully.

His jaw dropped. "You're an angel?"

I laughed and was about to disagree, but at the look of wonder and happiness on his face, I had to simply go along with it.

I nodded discreetly, then held my index finger to my lips, signalling for him to keep quiet. I wasn't sure if fairy tales were treated with contempt or punishment in the mines, but I wasn't willing to risk him shouting it.

He nodded eagerly as if he'd been given the world's most important task. "I won't tell anyone."

"Great," I said, smiling and leaning back on my feet. "I'm Sarah, an angel from Earth. It's nice to meet you."

He grinned in reply, playing along. "I'm Leo. A five-year-old from Sloth City."

I chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Leo. Do you want me to take a look at your hand?" I asked. "I'm not a nurse, but everyone else is busy."

He held his hand out, and the sight made my blood boil. His palms were completely covered in both popped and fresh blisters. I couldn't imagine how much pain he was in; it certainly didn't help that as a young child he had skin so soft it was incompatible with manual labour. Leo was staring at me with big, glassy eyes so I planted a smile on my face.

"The pain will go away," I coaxed. "I'll just put on some ointment and bandage your hands up for you." I'd learned a thing or two from my own injuries over the past couple of days.

I darted over to the nurse's table, hoping no one would reproach me for taking supplies, and grabbed some bottled water, antibiotic ointment and a roll of gauze. Luckily, the first aid area was so busy no one took any notice.

Leo was still sitting patiently when I returned to him, looking slightly less sad now that he believed an angel was in his presence. He held out his hands for me and I held them gently. First, I poured some water over his blisters to clean the wounds, then applied liberal amounts of antibiotic ointment over the top. As I wrapped his hand loosely in the gauze, Leo looked at it in wonder.

"There we go," I said, tucking in the loose end. "You look like a superhero now."

"Really?" he asked, eyes wide in wonder.

"Of course," I teased with a smile. "With these battle scars, you already are a superhero."

"Awesome!" he exclaimed, throwing his bandaged hands up in the air.

I hushed him, spying a guard approach closer. Leo slammed his mouth shut and curled in on himself, worried he'd been too loud. My heart burst at how adorable he was. But yet, I couldn't help but worry about what his future held for him. In a place such as this, his innocence would extinguish before he could count his age on two hands.

"I have to go," I said, keeping my emotions in check. "You keep on being an undercover superhero, alright?"

Leo nodded, deadly serious. "I will."

"There you go. I'll see you around, Leo."

He performed a salute and I let out a chuckle, for a moment forgetting where we were. That was until a guard placed another axe in my hand, the weight of it dragging me down. I kept my head down, letting my hair fall onto my forehead as I walked towards the excavation area. Keeping my head down was a habit I'd long since acquainted myself with. As Kadyn had said on day one, not all of the guards here were as nice as him, and I wasn't willing to risk a guard seeing the colour in my eyes, even where the mine did provide the protection of gloominess.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up and a fresh wave of anxiety crashed through me. It felt as though danger himself hovered behind me, watching over me like the Grim Reaper. I couldn't help myself and spun around to face what had me so on edge.

The guard that had passed me the axe stood among the bustling the crowd, scrutinising my retreating figure. His lips tightened into a firm line as he narrowed his gaze. I sucked in a quick breath and turned on my feet, forcing my legs to move despite it feeling like I was walking through quicksand. I forced myself to take measured breaths. His gaze weighed down my shoulders, and it was with relief that I turned the corner so that I was out of his line of sight.

There hadn't been anything about his appearance in particular that triggered my alarm bells – it was more so that it felt like he was truly seeing me. All of the interactions I'd had with guards had been incredibly superficial; I was just one of the many slaves, and a pure number in their eyes...

But that man? He'd been watching me, and this distinction put me on edge.