Dig

By Susan Lyttek

Daddy closed me in, just as he had my sister last year. She hadn’t returned.

He wiped his tear away. “I’m praying I see you again.”

I tried to hold the door open. “Don’t make me go!”

He half held my shoulder, half pushed me forward. “You know our way, Brianna. The only chance of finding your mate is underground.” He quoted the mantra, “‘One from above, one from below to make the people grow.’ Use the tools in the cave, and remember, I love you.”

I knew that. But I also knew Dad left things unsaid. When he looked at me from the corner of his eye, he was hiding something.

Was it the reason why the village would send the one person who feared the dark beyond reason into the depths to save them?

The door shut, and I heard the clicks of dozens of locks bolt in place. I leaned against the wall to cry.

There was no wall. I fell, sliding through blackness. My screams echoed and called back a ghastly song. I sped downward rocketing from one curve to the next. Sometimes it would level out and I’d catch myself, only to slide again. After what seemed like miles down, I spun out in circles and crashed into a hard wall.

I curled up on the ground, sobbing. How could I go home? How could I go anywhere? I wept until exhaustion overwhelmed me. Upon waking, I still felt empty, but my eyes were spent. Though I couldn’t see a reason to keep trying, you could only cry for so long.

“Daddy, rescue me,” I whispered, even though I knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. No one had come to the surface with a mate since my dad had brought up my mother.

Our people were dying. Without our other half, found in the world below, we couldn’t have children. Abby and I were the only young people left.

In spite of my terror, a wry bark of laughter erupted. Seeking a buried mate in the night labyrinth depended on me.

Think, Brianna. I had gone through all the preparation. Find the tools, dig for the light. I rehearsed the mantra. On hands and knees, I scooted around the space, scrabbling with my hands for anything other than loose dirt. Finally, against the wall farthest from where I landed, I found a small spade.

Tracing its shape and length with one finger, I wondered at the logic of the Maker. Only one tool? It felt sharp enough, but it was only about ten inches from end to end.

“Where do I dig?” The elders said I would know. I didn’t. Daddy said he’d sought forever before finding Mom.

I closed my eyes against the black. “For forever!” I plunged the spade.

Three things happened simultaneously. A clanging sound deafened my ears, the tool reverberated, and my elbow ached from the shock of the blow.

I dropped the spade and clutched my sore arm. The ground below was not soil but rock. What was the point? I could pound until I was broken and never dent it.

Tears threatened, and I wiped my face to fight the urge. When I removed my hand, I could almost see my fingers wiggle. The black had lightened. Not substantially, but enough to give me that all-important commodity: hope.

Using my other arm, I thrust at the stubborn ground once more. Everything repeated. Now that elbow hurt, and the resulting sound made me wish I had some wax to block my ears.

The pain was worth it. The cave lightened.

I didn’t understand why. There was no breach below me. But I could do nothing else. After rubbing both sore elbows, I held the spade with both hands. “Please,” I prayed, driving the blade down.

The floor of the cavern shattered beneath me, and I fell into brightness so intense my blindness returned.

I plunged into ice-cold water.

When I broke through the water’s surface, I still couldn’t see. “Help!”

“Brianna?” Familiar arms pulled me out of the water and into a hug.

“Abby?” I hugged her back, overwhelmed.

A robe swaddled me in warmth. Something rubbed my eyes until my vision returned.

I stared at the wonders surrounding me. A glowing orb hung in the cavernous sky. Ponds glistened like diamonds between golden buildings. This civilization outshone ours.

Where was the pit of huddling slaves, longing for rescue?

“Doesn’t match, does it, Bri?” My sister, well and whole, showed me her world. “It’s not what they led us to believe.”

I shook my head, words still eluding me.

She gripped my hand and gestured around. “Have you ever seen such beauty? Have you ever felt so healthy?”

I took a deep breath. I did, indeed, feel more alive than ever. How could I rescue someone from paradise?

She tugged a chiseled man toward us. “This is Melcar. My mate.”

“Abby, what else has no one told me?”

“We’re not meant for the surface, Bri. That’s the banished colony.”

“What about Dad?”

She shook her head. “He was exiled for kidnapping Mom. He cannot return.”

That may have been true, but loyalty still tugged at my heart. “But they’re all dying!”

Melcar’s deep voice rumbled, “As they should.”

How could I live in a paradise without mercy? “I want to go home.”

“Brianna…”

“No. Everything you said may be true, but Daddy loves us.”

Abby shrugged. “You always were too soft.” She took me to a door. “Enter the darkness and climb.”

She turned away as I tried to hug her one last time.

The door shut. I fumbled around for the ladder; instead I found a hand.

“Who’s there?”

“Zebi,” said a masculine voice.

“Why are you here?”

He squeezed my hand. “I like the dark. May I climb with you?”

Somehow, the dark here felt warmer than the light outside. Thankfully, Zebi couldn’t see me blush. Finally, I took a deep breath and found my voice. “You may.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan A. J. Lyttek, author of four novels, (fifth out June 2019) award-winning writer, blogger, wife and mother to two homeschool graduates currently escapes her employment search by writing random stories. You can find out more about her and her books at her website.

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