The warning bell shattered the dawn silence. Three short rings, one long. Fire in the mines.
Kaelan jolted awake, nearly cracking his head on the low ceiling of his quarters. His first coherent thought was of his father, already four hours into his shift in the deepest tunnels. The second was that he needed to move. Now.
He fumbled for his boots in the gray half-light. The sparse room offered little to pack; he grabbed only his water skin and the small knife his father had given him on his sixteenth naming day. No time for anything else.
Outside, chaos had already taken hold of the settlement. Miners' families poured from their homes, some still in sleeping clothes. The acrid smell of smoke hung in the air, but strangely, Kaelan couldn't see flames coming from the main shaft entrance.
"What level?" he shouted to Berr, the watchman who'd sounded the alarm. The heavyset man was red-faced from exertion, still clutching the bell rope.
"Deepest level," Berr wheezed. "Something went wrong with the new drill. Fire's spreading fast through the support beams."
Kaelan's stomach dropped. The deepest level. Where his father would be.
The mine entrance loomed ahead, a dark maw in the mountainside. Men rushed about, gathering water buckets and picks. A chain had already formed, passing buckets toward the shaft. But Kaelan could see from their grim faces that they knew the truth: by the time water reached the deepest tunnels, it would be too late.
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the shouts telling him to stay back. The heat hit him first as he entered the mine shaft. Then the smoke, thick and choking, making his eyes water instantly.
"Kaelan, stop!" Vora, the mine supervisor, grabbed his arm. Her weathered face was streaked with soot. "No one goes deeper. We've got the lift working to bring up who we can."
"My father's down there," Kaelan said, wrenching free. "I'm going."
Something in his voice must have given her pause. She stared at him for a moment, then pressed her damp kerchief into his hand. "Wrap this around your face. And Kaelan... if the rocks start to shift, you run. Promise me."
He nodded and wrapped the cloth around his nose and mouth. The familiar smell of lavender oil clung to the fabric. Vora used it to keep the mine dust from her lungs. Now it would be his thin shield against the smoke.
The main shaft descended at a steep angle. Kaelan half-ran, half-slid down the rough-hewn steps cut into the stone. The first level was clear of smoke, miners hurrying upward with tools and personal effects. The second level already had wisps of gray curling along the ceiling.
By the third level, the smoke thickened, and the heat pressed against him like a living thing. Most miners had already evacuated this deep, but occasionally he passed men helping injured comrades toward the surface. None of them bore his father's tall frame or distinctive red beard.
"Has anyone seen Torven?" he called out to a group of soot-covered men. "My father, anyone seen him?"
An older miner shook his head. "He was checking the new drill mechanism when it happened. Lower shaft, eastern tunnel."
Kaelan pushed onward, dread pooling in his gut. The fourth level was where the real heat began. Sweat poured down his back, soaking his thin shirt. The air shimmered before his eyes.
The smoke here was thick enough that he had to crouch low, where breathable air still clung to the ground. His knees scraped against sharp stone as he half-crawled toward the next descent. Distant shouts echoed up the shaft, but he couldn't make out the words.
The fifth level was hell.
Orange flames licked along wooden support beams, consuming them with hungry crackles. The heat struck Kaelan like a physical blow. He stumbled, momentarily overcome as sweat stung his eyes.
A crack echoed through the tunnel. Somewhere ahead, timber splintered and stone groaned.
"Help! Anyone!" The voice was faint, barely audible above the fire's roar.
Kaelan pushed forward, staying low. His lungs burned with each breath despite the kerchief. The voice had come from the eastern passage. His father's section.
The tunnel narrowed as he pressed on. Fallen rock partially blocked the way, forcing him to squeeze through gaps. His shirt caught on jagged stone, tearing. A shower of pebbles rained down as something shifted overhead.
He almost missed them in the smoke. Three figures huddled against the far wall, trapped by a fallen support beam that blocked their retreat. Two miners he recognized vaguely, and between them, his father. Even in the dim light, Kaelan could see the dark stain spreading across Torven's pant leg.
"Father!"
Torven's head jerked up. "Kaelan? By the gods, what are you doing here? Get back up!"
"Not without you." Kaelan surveyed the scene. The beam that trapped them was massive, its far end engulfed in flames. The fire was spreading rapidly toward a stack of crates. Mining supplies. Possibly blasting powder.
"The beam shifted when the drill exploded," one of the miners explained through coughs. "Nearly crushed Torven's leg. We can't move him without help."
Kaelan grabbed the beam, then jerked back with a hiss. The wood was scorching hot. He tried again with his sleeves pulled over his hands, straining against the weight. It didn't budge.
"Leave us," his father commanded. "The whole level could collapse any minute."
"No." The word came out as a growl. Kaelan planted his feet and gripped the beam again, ignoring the pain as it burned his palms.
Something strange happened then. The pain in his hands didn't fade, but it... transformed. It sank deeper, past skin and muscle, settling somewhere in his core. And there, it found something waiting. Something that had always been there, dormant until this moment.
Heat answered heat.
Kaelan gasped as sensation flooded his body. His vision sharpened despite the smoke, edges of objects suddenly outlined in pulsing red. The fire's roar became a whisper, almost like words just beyond understanding.
"Your hands!" one of the miners shouted.
Kaelan looked down. Orange light rippled beneath his skin, tracing the path of veins up his arms. Where his fingers gripped the beam, the wood was not burning him. Instead, the flames were drawing away, curling back as if repelled.
Instinct took over. Kaelan didn't understand what was happening, but some deep part of him recognized this power. He inhaled deeply, drawing the fire's essence into himself rather than letting the smoke fill his lungs.
The flames on the nearest support beam flickered and died.
"What in the depths..." his father whispered.
The crate of supplies ignited with a sudden whoosh. They had minutes, maybe less.
"I don't know what's happening," Kaelan said, "but I think I can hold back the fire. Help me move this beam."
The miners exchanged shocked glances but didn't hesitate. Together they strained against the timber while Kaelan focused on the strange energy coursing through him. Wherever his hands touched, flames retreated.
With a final heave, they shifted the beam enough to pull Torven free. His father's face was gray with pain, but his eyes never left Kaelan's glowing arms.
"We need to move," Kaelan said. The control was slipping. Whatever this power was, he couldn't maintain it much longer. Already his vision was blurring at the edges, the strange heat in his veins cooling.
The journey back through the tunnels was a blur. Kaelan led the way, one arm supporting his father, the other extended before them. Fire backed away from his approach, creating a path through the inferno.
"Left here," one of the miners gasped. "Shaft access is closer."
They turned down a side passage. Smoke billowed around them, but Kaelan found he could breathe more easily now. His lungs seemed to filter the worst of it.
A rumble shook the tunnel. Dirt and small stones showered down from the ceiling.
"Move faster," Kaelan urged. The strange power was fading. Each step became harder, the fire more resistant to his will. His head pounded with the effort of maintaining control.
They reached the shaft lift. The wooden platform swayed slightly, the ropes disappearing up into darkness. One of the miners pulled the signal cord. Three sharp tugs. Emergency ascent.
"They might not be manning the top," the other miner said doubtfully.
Kaelan helped ease his father onto the platform. "They're still working the lifts. I passed others coming up."
The platform jerked, then began to rise. Too slowly. The fire was returning now, licking at the edges of Kaelan's awareness. His control was almost gone.
"Kaelan." His father gripped his wrist. "Your eyes."
He didn't need to ask what his father meant. He could feel it, the heat behind his eyes, the strange clarity of vision even in the smoke-filled darkness.
"What's happening to me?"
"Later," Torven said. "Questions later."
The shaft walls slid past. Fourth level. Third. The air grew clearer, the heat less intense. The platform's ascent seemed to take forever, but finally they emerged into the relative cool of the surface level.
Hands reached for them, pulling them from the lift. Voices exclaimed in surprise and relief. Someone threw a wet cloth over Kaelan's shoulders.
"Look at his arms!"
"Did you see that? The fire wouldn't touch him!"
Kaelan swayed on his feet. The power had drained away completely now, leaving exhaustion in its wake. His vision dimmed around the edges.
The last thing he saw before consciousness fled was his father's face, creased with pain yet filled with something else. Pride? Fear? Perhaps both.
Then darkness took him, blessedly cool and quiet.