We worked by lamp light in the lowest of the Blank Mines, our eyes strained to adjust to the pitch black. My crew numbered just over twenty, but I was closest to Borox. Not that we had anything in common. He was of noble blood, caught beating a servant and sent to prison for a year. Upon release, his father arranged for him to work with the Top Level crew, to develop his character before going back into surface society. The only thing it gave Borox was new victims.
Borox had a nose for finding weakness in others, and exploiting it to his advantage. When a new member was added to the team, Borox would bully them, first verbally then physically, until they fought back. It was how he tested them. He found their breaking point.
Even though I was the lowest of the low, he never attacked me. At the time, I didn't know why. I now think it was because we were assigned together as tent mates while on the Top Level. Borox probably thought it unwise to create strife with the person in which he shared sleeping quarters. Now demoted to Ditch Mongers, sleeping in the open caves, Borox's abstention of abuse towards me continued.
Some members of our crew were captured in the Wanati Desert and sold to the mine as slaves. Two of them, Jeg and Jo, were wrinkled twin brothers, who talked to the walls as they mined the rock. They would apologize to the mountain for the injury they were about to administer. It was all in their Watanese language, and they would translate their favorite sayings to us. The brothers took turns pounding the same chunk of rock while chanting in unison, "Armikrog, Armikrog, Armikrog."
There was another Blank Miner I feared. Though not in the way others feared Borox. This Miner had a thin frame and a nervous smile. His face was caked with black earth. His smile exposed jagged, yellow teeth. To be near him was akin to walking past an open grave at night. His name was Weave.
My first assignment as a Ditch Monger, was to work side by side with Weave in a narrow shaft. The Blanks we cut were stacked on a hoist, which, when fully loaded, was pulled up and out of the shaft, unloaded by others, and then lowered again to us. This was the first time I had worked alongside Weave, and it was unnerving. He would mumble all day long using my name as if we were having a conversation. "Tzurk, you work long? Yes, Tzurk work long." But when I tried to reply, he would argue that he hadn't said anything.
I grew to despise Weave, and began to calculate how I could get Borox to ill-treat him. I was still, you will remember, not much higher than an animal. Though my heart was filled with Meva, my soul was dark. Borox refused to beat Weave. I’m sure he abstained because he did not like the idea of doing so because it was my idea.
After two weeks of working alongside Weave, I was desperate to be rid of him. It was then that I decided to ask The Abominate. Since he worked chained to a steel ball, each member of the crew had to take a turn carrying his lunchtime meal to him. As luck would have it, it was my turn. I approached The Abominate, and set the food down on the ground, just barely within his reach. He did not look at me, or acknowledge my presence. His massive form was seated on the cave floor, turned away from me.
I waited for a moment, my words faltering, for my mind was taking in the mystery of the creature. Finally, I swallowed and whispered, "I need a favor."
"No." His voice was like a deep rumble.
"But you don't even know what..."
"I will not kill for you. Not Weave. Not anyone."
His words disarmed me. I had expected an oaf, an idiot, but he was well spoken. His appearance did not match his speech.
"You have worked for weeks next to that sewer urchin. Anyone forced to do so would soon desire him dead."
But The Abominate was not done. He turned his ugly face towards me. His eyes seemed to drill deep into me.
"I know why your crew is working as Ditch Mongers. It's your fault. It was you whose mind etched Meva's face on the mine walls."
A bolt of horror struck me. My knees felt weak and I nearly collapsed. How could he know? He had been chained to his steel ball in the deepest mines for years! I wanted to lie, but what use would it have been? Even if he were only guessing, the expression on my face had already confessed.
"Your secret will be well kept with me."
"Why?" I stammered.
"Because it is a secret of love."
The Abominate got up, and came over to where I had set the food. Instinctively, I took a step back from the massive form towering over me. Perhaps it was because he promised to keep my secret that I felt that I could ask him a question about himself.
"Is it true...what they say about your wife?" I asked.
Rage exploded across his face. A bellow of anger burst from his lips that sounded like a hundred wild animals. His hands snapped out towards me. Before I could act they had encircled my head, yet they did not touch my skin. There was murder in his eyes.
"Ask me again about my wife, and I will eat your corpse before it cools."
He turned away from me, and I fled.