The Toils (Book Two)

IX. Tephra

Last Night

Thatcher closed the door to Tamas' office behind her, skulked down the hallway past the paintings, and entered the glass elevator.
She cranked the handle until she reached the atrium on the ground floor, crossed the room, and exited out the front doors to The Kings Palace.
Once outside, she jogged down the stairs to the main road below.
It was quiet, now, everyone was in their homes sleeping.
The vagrants stayed huddled in the road, sharing their collective warmth and doling out what little food they had between them.
Thatcher felt a slight pang of guilt walking past them, headed south towards where they'd hitched their horses that morning.
She wandered aimlessly, looking down side streets for their horses - but they were nowhere to be seen.
After a minute or two of walking, she found the horses tied up outside a small home constructed out of planks of wood and old bits of tin.
She knocked on the corrugated iron door and waited.
Ratapu answered and, without speaking, stood to a side and allowed Thatcher in.
Small bricks contained a fire on the far side of the room.
Magnus, Rena, Ruataupare and, Arihona ate at some meat on a shared plate between them - all sat on the floor chatting happily.
"How'd it go?", Rena looked up and asked as Ratapu retook his place alongside the others.
"It went good", Thatcher nodded and looked down at them.
"You look a bit... odd - are you alright?", Magnus asked her.
"Yeah - we've drawn up agreements, sliced the land, entered into partnerships... I, uh... I think we need to see this mountain, though", Thatcher announced.
"That's not gonna happen", Arihona gruffed.
"Why not?", Thatcher returned.
"There've been earthquakes, Thatcher, why would you even remotely think that's a good idea?", Magnus asked her annoyedly.
"I think we need to see it - to understand what's happened so we can make a better, more informed decision on how to fix it", Thatcher chipped back.
"It's a volcano, not a broken wrist - you can't fix it", Magnus stood and brushed her hands on her cloak.
"Look, whether or not you lot follow along is up to you, but I'm going", Thatchers' eyes widened.
"Magnus is right - this is idiotic", Ruataupare chimed in.
"Indeed, the thing's wiped out thousands of farmers and you think you're just gonna waltz up there like it's nothing?", Arihona fired up.
"Look, I've made my mind up".
"You're the Head Of State, woman, grow up and get your shit together!", Ruataupare hissed.
"No, she's got a point", Rena defended, "we can't make decisions if we don't know anything, so we dip up, see if it's still smoking - if it is - we know to prepare ourselves, if not - we go back and start planning".
"Are you serious?", Magnus rounded on Rena.
"Yeah, I am. I'm going with Thatcher", Rena hopped to her feet and confronted Magnus, "if you wanna stay back; I understand, but you made it clear to me that you wanted us both to live independently and I agree - I'm not holding you back from living your life and having a family that is truly yours, and I hope that you'll respect my wishes and allow me to do what I want to do".
"You're comparing having a baby with going and putting your life at risk to look at an explosive mountain!", Magnus raised her voice.
"I am, yeah", Rena spoke, half shocking Magnus with her unwillingness to argue the point.
"Well, then... I guess I'll be coming too", Magnus whispered.
"And you?", Thatcher glared at Ruataupare.
"Oh, yeah, but only to tell you I told you so when it inevitably turns to shit".

"I FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS SHIT WOULD GO SOUTH!", Ruataupare screamed at Thatcher- the six of them staring into the depths of an eight-foot deep chasm trapping them in place.
The sounds of dying horses filled the air as the lava engulfed them, the spitting and hissing of their bodily fluids evaporating made Thatcher feel physically sick.
"I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS RIGHT NOW!", Thatcher screamed back.
On a split seconds notice, Rena pulled her cloak from her body and tore it into a long strip. Her bare arms were coated in a thin film of ash stained sweat.
"THAT ROCK!", Rena yelled at Ratapu, pointing at a particularly hefty looking boulder a few feet away.
Together, Ruataupare, Magnus, Thatcher, Arihona, and Ratapu picked the boulder up - their combined effort made it almost weightless.
Rena continued tearing her cloak into a thin rope. Once the rock bearers were close enough, Rena laid her makeshift rope onto the ground where the collective placed the rock atop it, holding it in place.
With very little time to make mistakes, she tied the rope around the rock and ordered Magnus down it first.
"HOW DO WE GET BACK UP?!", Arihona shouted.
"WORRY ABOUT THAT ONCE WE'RE DOWN THERE, JUST MOVE!", she ordered back, watching Magnus vanish from view.
With Magnus safely in the chasm opened in the earth, Ratapu was next.
The lava drew nearer, now less than twelve feet away. While it was moving slowly, the heat was intense enough to make Thatcher feel faint.
Her guts rolled, before the contents of her stomach were expelled over the ground.
"THATCHER MOVE!", Rena ordered her down the rope before Ruataupare stood in her way.
"LIKE FUCK, SHE'S THE REASON WE'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!", Ruataupare furrowed her brow.
"FINE ARIHONA, THEN RUATAUPARE, THEN ME, THEN THATCHER!", Rena shouted, somewhat annoyed at Ruataupare.
Arihona vanished over the side.
Down below, in the chasm, with a push from Ratapu and a slight help from an exposed root, Magnus was the first over the other side of the large gash painted in the desert-scape.
Bending over, Magnus struggled to pull Ratapu up and over.
However, once Arihona reached the bottom of the eight-foot drop, he assisted - crouching, placing his hands under Ratapus' feet, and hoisted him up over the side.
Ruataupare had now reached the bottom.
The lava flow was growing closer, causing Thatchers' body to erupt in itches.
Anxiously, she watched Rena heave herself over the side of the chasm, the lava only four feet away.
Ruataupare was lifted over the side, the smell of sulfur making Thatcher retch.
Rena threw herself from the rope, reaching the bottom of the chasm.
Thatcher began abseiling down the side of the chasm, before dropping with a loud CRACK!
The rope was flaming - lava had eaten it from the rock and sent her flying the eight feet down.
"You okay?", Rena rushed over to her, leaving Ruataupare dangling over the edge with her arm outstretched.
"No, my fucking ribs", Thatcher gasped for air, visibly winded.
"GUYS!", Rena called up, drips of lava pouring over the edge.
With haste, Magnus pulled her sheath from around her waist, casting her sword to the ash-laden ground.
"Can you stand?", Rena asked Thatcher, not wanting to pull her straight up lest she make the problem worse.
"I think so", Thatcher mumbled and stood.
"Alright", Rena nodded, brushing Thatcher off and keeping a keen eye on the ever fastening lava spilling over the edge of the chasm.
It was getting closer to their feet - inconveniently wrapped in fabric - not exactly fireproof.
"COME ON!", Rena called up to Magnus, who bent down and threw the sheath over the edge.
"Alright - we need to move", Rena looked Thatcher in the eyes.
"I'm sorry, this was a dumb idea", Thatcher shook her head and clasped the sheath.
"Apologies later, for now, haul ass", Rena affirmed.
"LIFT", Rena called to Magnus, supporting Thatcher by the hips so as not to stretch her body as she was lifted upwards.
Magnus heaved. Thatcher struggled to get a foothold on the dirt, but with Renas' pushing and Magnus' pulling, she was out within a handful of seconds.
Once Thatcher was safely on the other side, Magnus tossed the sheath back over for Rena, who gripped it and was lifted out.
As if some deity was controlling it; the lava began spilling over the edge uncontrollably, filling like water in a cup.
"I fucking told you", Ruataupare growled, barrelling down on Thatcher.
"There's no time for this now, we need to move", Ratapu spoke warningly.
The volcano was still spewing thousands of tonnes of ash and smoke from its now collapsed cone.
Molten rock still spewed over the edge - the once gray landscape now burned a violent shade of orange. The horses were now nothing more than liquid mingled with the still gloopy lava.
The black sky was going to get worse.