They finally reached the exit from Jossop’s tunnels, into one of the main tunnels to the surface. Hilko realized why no one knew about the miner’s secret passage. The shaft came out over a pool of water inside an enormous cavern created from years of rainwater leaching into the area.

As Hilko looked down at the black pool below, he knew he would die that day. He sighed, glancing at the ghosts as they hovered over the water. Their luminous glow and his lantern made the water look even more ominous, like a black pit of tar.

“How did you get your mine shaft started? On a boat?” Hilko looked at Jossop hanging in the air.

“Weren’t no water when I started.” The dead miner pointed to a black hole where water dripped into the pool.

“Used this airshaft which comes off this main tunnel. It was dry then. I just crawled up the shaft and started to work. Me and my traitor partner figured nobody would look inside an airshaft for our tunnel. Once we found a vein of secadem, we knew we were right.” 

“I can’t swim,” Hilko suddenly interrupted the conversation as he stared at the water.

Even though he lived on an island, he could not even remember seeing anyone swim. The ocean was too cold and the tides too strong. He remembered seeing a few bodies floating face down in the sea after pirates threw them overboard while anchored near a desolate beach. The man shivered at the thought of drowning.

“Well, maybe it’s not too deep?” Thoma suggested as he floated down to the edge of the water.

“Then, I can break my neck and end this quickly!” Hilko’s sarcastic reply forced the ghost to grin.

“Well, living one, please do it to get this over with,” the hulking miner told him. He carried no sympathy for the man debating his next impeding move.

“Curse it,” Hilko told himself, letting himself drop.

His loose tunic caught on a sharp rock sticking out from the edge, causing him to fall awkwardly. When he hit the water, he nearly gasped in the water from the shock of the cold. Fortunately, it was not as deep as he thought, and he felt his boots hit bottom. His hands and arms instinctively splashed around him when he reached the surface. Choking and coughing, he floundered around and nearly went under again as he begged the spirits for help. Thoma watched the event while he urged Hilko toward him.

After what seemed like forever, the smuggler finally reached the edge, where he dragged himself out of the water. The young man lay on the hard rock, panting and coughing, feeling like he would have thrown up if any food was in his belly. Then, the uncontrolled shivering started.

“You better get up and start moving around. Freezing to death won’t get us out of this place.” Thoma pointed out to his living battery.

“Sympathy muuussst get tough when yoouuurrr deeaad,” Hilko stuttered out while forcing himself to stand.

He stomped around, occasionally jumping, warming himself, then looked over at the ghosts.

“Come on, let’s go! Thoma, why don’t you go in front and look for any of Regaar’s thugs? I don’t want to run into them accidentally.”

His ghostly friend’s face lit up at the idea.

“Great, I’ll drop a rock on their head.”

“No, that’ll bring more people. We have to get by them somehow,” Hilko’s exasperated tone came through. “How long do you think I’ll last if Regaar finds me?”

“I didn’t think about that.”

Thoma’s blue face turned sour. He came down to the ground, crouching as he went ahead. Hilko decided not to remind the ghost that no one would see him.

“Hey, little man, our deal is done,” Jossop stepped closer. “I’m heading out on my own as soon as I can find another body around here. Thoma told me how he attached to you. I guess the living has some uses.”

“Thanks,” Hilko happily agreed to the proposal.

I guess there’s always someone you can’t ever get along with.

The bluish outline floated down the tunnel ahead of him.

“I still don’t like you! But, at least, you live up to your bargains.”

The trio moved through the main tunnel, reaching a fork where the tunnel split into three shafts. Thoma was waiting, pointing out an intentionally obscure sign which led to the main chamber where Regaar ruled. Hilko stepped back into the shadows as lights came into view. Two thugs working for Regaar passed his position, heading to the outside world. The smuggler watched as Jossop attached himself to one man, gliding along to his escape.

“Too bad it wasn’t Regaar that Jossop hooked into,” Hilko whispered to Thoma. “Maybe he’d give the one-eyed pufta some nightmares.”

The ghost laughed at the thought.

“I doubt it. That doomed one’s spirit is as black as a closed-off mine. I remember this area. We can take that last fork before the wheelhouse to find my mom.”

Hilko hesitated.

“I don’t know. We’ve been wandering around for a long time. Regaar will be around by now.”

Thoma’s blue image changed color, turning blacker.

“Don’t be a pufta. You promised.”

Hilko took in a deep breath.

“You’re right.”

He suppressed the urge to follow Regaar’s thugs out of the mine. Then he looked at his ghost friend.

“Curses, if I get killed, I swear I will make sure I pay you back somehow.”

The odd pair slowly made their way through the tunnel until they found the passage to the area where the Guryos made their homes. The thick sandstone veins remained free of water, allowing the doomed ones to dig out their chambers for living. However, the overwhelming stench struck Hilko as they got close. The warren of dens of latrines, unwashed bodies, and soiled laundry added to the dank atmosphere of crowded people trying to survive. Smoke hung in the air, given off by the cheap candles. Hilko slid the damp wool hood on his cape over his head, hoping no one would get a good look at him.

Even though the living man and the ghost grew up among the rabble, the commotion in the close quarters nearly overwhelmed them. As they worked to reach Thoma’s quarters, the screaming of babies and violent arguments filled every turn. Occasionally, a hand would reach out to offer a small trinket for trade, or the seller suggested time with a man, woman, or child. Few among the dwellers in these tunnels had any regular work. If they didn’t work for Regaar, they became independent thieves around the docks. Desperation among a Guryo family grew anytime an accident or injury happened. Suicides were not uncommon.

Thoma sped up as they drew close to his former home. A tattered curtain hung as a door to where his family dug out their home. At the entrance, Hilko stopped, carefully looking around. Suddenly, the runner realized Thoma’s mom would think he was crazy. Or worse, she might go to Regaar. He jumped in front of the ghost.

“What am I supposed to say?” he whispered impatiently. “She’ll think I’m a lunatic. What if she runs to Regaar about this?”

Thoma stopped, his face growing dark.

“Jenrar won’t run to Regaar. She’ll probably send people after the fat pufta. That’ll make my day.”

“But it’s your mom. How can I convince her?”

“That’s easy; follow me.” The ghost of Thoma went through Hilko and the curtain.

From the start, it was clear the little woman with straggly hair put the memory of her son to rest when he went missing. Revealing a secret that only Thoma and his mother knew, Jenrar accepted Hilko’s word of Thoma’s unrested spirit at face value. But the woman showed no emotion, not even a hint of loss. She stated it was unfortunate for her dead son, but she and the rest of the family must survive. The woman explained another son was already working for Regaar, bringing them enough to survive. If she carried any bitterness against the leader of the thieves, she hid it.

Disgust filled his ghostly face as Thoma left. Hilko remained to ask about Silna.

Jenrar suddenly held out her hand.

“I heard Regaar thinks you are dead. You have anything to keep me from letting him know you’re not?”

The smuggler pulled his last hamar from the small bag around his neck.

“Last one I have.” He held it over her outstretched hand, giving her an icy stare.

“Where’s Silna?”

Hilko re-entered the world of the tunnels of the Guryo as he wondered who felt worse about the death of Thoma, him or Jenrar. He had the information he needed. Hilko went to the first shadowed alcove along the tunnel and stopped. As he pressed his back against the sandstone, Hilko suddenly wished that he could melt into the rock.