loosening the boards. “What do you think?” he hissed as some-

thing creaked and splintered.

“Careful,” whispered Akitada. “Someone might hear.” He

reached for his own chisel and felt along the edge of the top

board. Haseo had loosened it so that it could be pulled outward.

Other boards were nailed to it. “Can we just shift it enough to

creep through and close it behind us? It would give us time

when they start searching.”

Instead of answering, Haseo bent to loosen the lower

edge while Akitada pulled. Working by touch alone was diffi-

cult. Akitada had forgotten to bring a light, and had had no

opportunity to steal a flint anyway. The thought of creeping

into an unfamiliar tunnel in utter darkness momentarily made

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his stomach heave. He reminded himself that showing a light

would have been too dangerous anyway.

The makeshift doorway eventually gaped far enough to let

them slip through. They pulled it back into place after them,

hoping that their prying chisels had not left noticeable scars.

Starting forward slowly, they felt their way by moving along

one of the walls with one hand stretched out in front to keep

from running into sudden projections. They had progressed for

some distance along the winding tunnel when Haseo stopped.

Akitada heard the sound of a flint, and then the rough tunnel

walls lit up around them.

Taking a deep breath of relief, Akitada said, “Thank heaven

for that. How did you manage both lamp and flint?”

But Haseo was already moving on. “Took them off the

guard, of course. It’ll make it harder for them to get out in

the morning.”

Seeing their surroundings was not reassuring, however.

Cracked timber supports and large chunks of rock fallen from

above marked this as a dangerously unstable section, and when

the tunnel eventually widened and the ceiling rose so that they

could walk upright, they found numerous branch tunnels,

some of which they explored until they ran out. The air

remained fresh and sweet, however. They spoke little, and then

tersely and in low voices about their desperate undertaking.

“There are too many tunnels,” Akitada said after a while.

“We cannot waste time with all of them, and how do we know

we’re in the right one?”

“Don’t know. Have to follow the air current.”

Some tunnels were too small to consider. With the rest they

checked the air flow, but could not always be certain, and in the

end, they chose to stay in the largest tunnel.

“How far have we come?” Haseo asked at one point.

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Akitada had attempted to count steps, short ones since their

chains still hobbled them. He told Haseo, who muttered, “Got

to move faster. Damn these chains,” and took such a large step

forward that he fell flat on his face. The oil lamp flew from his

hand and broke with a small clatter. Instant darkness enveloped

them. Haseo cursed. When Akitada had helped him up, he said,

“Well, we’ll have to feel our way like blind men. But let’s take off these chains.”

“We have no light. It will be time enough when we get out.”

Haseo protested, “But we need to get to the outside while it’s

still dark and then run like demons. I tell you, this place’ll

swarm with guards and soldiers as soon as it’s daylight.”

“What did you do to the guard?” Akitada asked again.

“Hit him with a piece of rock.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Maybe.”

They continued. The tunnel climbed upward, making sev-

eral turns but still promising escape. It was nerve-racking work

in the utter darkness. They groped their way, taking turns at

going first, feet testing the ground, and hands stretched out to

meet obstacles. Their inability to see seemed to magnify sounds,

and small rocks kicked by their feet made them stop to listen,

reminded of the constant danger of rock falls. The darkness

raised vivid images of being crushed or, worse, becoming

walled in alive. Each caught in his own nightmare, they stopped

talking.

And then the tunnel ended.

Akitada had been in front for a while, moving more quickly

in his impatience. He suddenly stubbed his toe, stumbled, and

fell forward onto a pile of rocks.

“What are you doing?” Haseo asked. He came up and felt for

Akitada.

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299

“It’s a rock pile,” muttered Akitada, scrambling up it with

some difficulty, because the rubble kept shifting under his feet

and he kept slipping back down, causing small rock slides.

“Move aside.” Haseo passed him, having better luck.

“How much is there, do you think?” Akitada asked from

below. He jumped aside when a low rumble announced another

rock slide. When it stopped, he said, “Be careful or you’ll bring

the whole mountain down on us.”

Haseo did not answer. Akitada could hear him sliding all the

way down. “It’s the end,” Haseo said tonelessly, stopping beside

him. “It goes all the way to the ceiling. If this tunnel ever led to the outside, the rock fall has filled it. Maybe that’s why they

stopped working it.”

Akitada sat down next to him. He was very tired. “We must

think,” he said.

Haseo gave a bark of bitter laughter. “You’re a fool. I told you

so last night. We’ll die here.”

“We won’t die here. And if you thought it was so foolish,

why did you come?”

Haseo did not answer that. Instead he said, “You’re right.

Let’s think.”

“We could go back and try the other tunnels. One or two

seemed promising.”

But they did not have the heart for it. They had been so

sure. Perhaps an hour passed while they rested, dozed, tried to

gather their strength for the next attempt. Akitada was the first

to stand up.

“Come on. There’s not much time. We must try another way.”

Haseo staggered to his feet. “All right.” He started back, but

Akitada caught his sleeve.

“Wait,” he said. “Do you hear something?”

Haseo listened. “No. Nothing. Just the air.”

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“Yes, the air. The current is still there. And it makes a

whistling sound we did not hear before. Like the sound a flute

makes when you blow it. Do you know what that means?”

“Forget it! You can’t go by air flow. See where it got us.”

“But the sound comes from the rock pile. Somewhere up

there is a narrow opening letting in the air and that is why it

whistles.”

Haseo pondered this. “Surely you don’t plan to move the

whole rock pile?” he finally said.

“We’ve carried rocks before. Why not now when it may

mean our freedom?”

“The whole thing may come loose and crush us.”

“Yes. But perhaps not.”

Haseo grunted and then climbed back up to the top, Akitada

at his heels. He could hear him scrabbling about, and then a

large piece of rock slid his way. He caught it barely before it

would have crushed his fingers, and slid back down with it.

They worked on like this for what seemed like hours,

sweat and stone dust crusting on their skin. Haseo grunted,

cursed, and muttered, “Waste of time,” and “Stupid” under his

breath, but he continued loosening rocks and passing them

down by feel alone. Akitada was tiring. His excitement had

carried him this far, but now his weakened body rebelled. After

each stone he deposited below, it was a little harder to climb

back up the few steps to where Haseo had made a foothold

for himself. He was working much faster than Akitada could

carry the rocks down.