Free Resurgent Shadows (Successive Harmony Book 1) by Kevin L. Nielsen

though it is hard to find. In time you’ll come to understand. Just know that I have spoken for you and have taken responsibility for your actions. Amongst the dvergers here that counts for something as long as you’re with me.”
    Caleb bit back the rest of his retort. It was true that humanity as a whole was warlike and self-centered, but to paint everyone with the same brush was an injustice to all those who had died defending their families and friends when the world had turned upside down. It was an insult to their memory. It was an insult to Rachel and Benson, both of whom had been innocent of any crime—and it had been the golgent who had delivered the fateful blow. They were the ones who deserved to die.
    Sigvid stopped in front of a large door at the end of a passage and pulled out a large iron key. He inserted it into the lock, turned it, and the door clicked open.
    “Wait for me here,” he said, standing aside and gesturing for Caleb to enter the room. “These are my rooms, so don’t break anything. I’ll be back soon.”
    Caleb grudgingly complied.
    The door closed behind him and the lock clicked into place. He’d been on edge ever since he’d awoken underground. The thought of all the stone and earth above his head made him uneasy, but at least it was well lit. It seemed like he had spent the last two days almost entirely locked behind closed doors. He had not been confined since before the Charlotte city-fortress had fallen. He was restless and angry, though the anger, at least, was subsiding.
    He glanced around the room. It was easily as large as the communal dining area they had just left, though with markedly fewer tables. A forge rested snugly in one corner of the room, the chimney cut into the stone of the wall and ceiling. He wondered at that. They must have had some way to break up the smoke and smell before it reached the surface, otherwise it would have given them away by now.
    Anvils and hammers of varying sizes were placed neatly around the dormant furnace and a table next to it held dozens of other chisels and tools that Caleb didn’t recognize, arranged according to size. On another table, far from the forge, Caleb was surprised to see a massive array of guns and ammunition piled carelessly about. Several boxes of ammunition had burst open and loose rounds littered the floor and hid under most of the tables.
    Opposite this table were racks of more dverger-appropriate weaponry. Axes, pole arms, and a variety of knives hung on half a dozen racks and stands, ranging in size from finger-length blades to the nearly short sword length that Sigvid had called a langsaxe. Shields, helmets, and other pieces of armor lay alongside these. Sigvid was obviously a blacksmith.
    On the other end of the room, close to where Caleb stood, a few low walls and arches created a private area. Caleb could just make out the end of a rumpled-looking bed in the shadows.
    Caleb wandered across the room to the tables full of weaponry. There were enough assault rifles to equip a small army. His own gun was out of ammo and he’d lost most of his magazines, so he sifted through the various rifles, handguns, and ammunition around the table. He found several spare magazines that fit his gun tucked inside a box of hand grenades. He made a neat pile of 9mm ammo boxes on one of the benches, separating the hollow-point and target rounds into separate piles.
    The work, though menial, calmed his mind and ebbed his frustrations, so he continued to sort, organizing the various weapons into categories and calibers, and arranging them neatly on the tables and benches. It felt good to be busy, to work with his hands and focus his mind away from the pain and the constancy of the hunt. The haunted feeling slipped away and the nagging fear from the dream the night before passed as he placed the last box of shotgun shells onto its pile.
    “You can keep what you want from there,” Sigvid’s voice said from a few steps behind him, “if