Free Carnifex (Legends of the Nameless Dwarf Book 1) by D.P. Prior

flicking nervous glances over his shoulder at the tunnel. “You might hit someone.”
    “What do you think helms are for, laddie?” Besides, at this time of night, no one who wasn’t a Ravine Guard had any business being out and about, save for the Krypteia, and he couldn’t give a shog about hitting them.
    They sat in silence for a long while, Carnifex lost in dreams of what lay outside Arx Gravis, Kal nervous and unable to settle.
    “We still training when we get off?” Kal finally said.  
    “If you like, but not before breakfast and a snatch of snooze.”
    “No, then,” Kal said. “Last time you said that, you were still snoring when the suns set, and then it was time for work again.”
    “Aye, but it only happened the once, and I put it down to the ale. Some shogger switched my Ballbreakers for Ironbelly’s; turned my guts to rancid mush. Tell you what, I’ll fix us some eggs and ham at my place, a quick snifter of mead, and then we can load up on kaffa before we hit the weights. Dead lifts, this time, and I want to see five-hundred from you.”
    “Five hundred pounds? You’re yanking my beard.”
    “Laddie, I frequently pull five-hundred with just one—”
    A wailing cry rolled down the tunnel behind them, rising in pitch and volume.
    “What the shog?” Kal said, leaping up and drawing his sword.
    Carnifex stood and hefted his axe to his shoulder. “That’s the night warden’s klaxon, laddie. Signal the men, then lead them after me. Make sure a runner wakes the marshal.”
    Thumil would know what to do: he was the one to write the protocols. If the Krypteia in the concealer cloaks hadn’t already dispatched someone, Councilor Grago would be alerted, too, and he’d want his Black Cloaks on the scene. It would be better for everyone if Thumil arrived first and took control.
    “You’re not going—”
    “It’s our job to respond, laddie.”
    With that, Carnifex entered the tunnel and started to run.
    He’d only ever heard the klaxon in training before. No one had expected to hear it for real. It meant there was trouble in the mines. Real trouble. For if anyone sounded the alarm and there wasn’t, there would be hell to pay.
    Kal’s whistle peeped behind him, and already he could hear the stomp of boots tramping across the walkway in response.
    Carnifex’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. In part, it was from the running, but most of it was from the thought he was leaving the ravine for the first time.  
      The tunnel turned a bend and then opened onto a low cavern. A track led off into the distance. It was formed of iron rails and scarolite sleepers. Either side of it, the floor was elevated into platforms. Other tunnels joined the cavern from various points, each linked to a different location in the city. This was the depot Droom had spoken about, where miners going to work would enter the train that ferried them back and forth. Only, there was no train, presumably because it was at the other end, along with the night warden.
    The klaxon’s keening soared to a deafening pitch that echoed along the tunnel walls and spilled out into the ravine. With a quick look behind to confirm Kal was following, Carnifex jumped down onto the track and ran along it. He’d gone barely a hundred yards when the klaxon ebbed away, and a point of silver shimmered up ahead. It was accompanied by a whoosh of air and a rumbling growl as it rapidly swelled in size.  
    The snub nose of a carriage came into view, speeding toward him. Gasping, Carnifex was momentarily frozen with the realization it was the train heading his way. Sparks flew from the tracks, and metal screeched. The train began to slow, but too little, too late. At the last instant, Carnifex sprang for the platform and rolled his legs out of the way. The snaking body of the train juddered and swayed amid a coruscating shower of argent, and slowly, torturously, it petered to a halt.  
    Kal came tearing down the platform with four Red Cloaks in