Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

And they’ll stay up until they fall down. I hope to see what it takes to make them get back up on their own, to kick back. I tell the foreman to punishthem for the slightest infraction. But no matter how unreasonable it is, these men never fight back.”
    He gestured toward a laborer who had bent over, the head of his pickaxe braced against the ice floor as if stopping to catch his breath. A giant of a man in a gray fur hat and coat, the foreman approached him, brandishing a club. Annika expected a warning. But the foreman simply struck, a sharp thwack! across the top of his head. The laborer staggered, but didn’t fall. The other men didn’t stop, didn’t look around.
    The foreman raised his arm again.
    Too shocked to believe what she was seeing, Annika could barely speak. “Stop him.”
    “He’s not even in the steel suit that they use in the mines. With their numbers, they could overpower him. They don’t even try.”
    She balled her fists. Did he want a reaction from her? “Stop him!”
    Lorenzo called out. The foreman looked around. Behind him, the laborer lifted bloody fingers from his head.
    “We’d better get him back into the walker with the others and see that he receives proper attention, yes?”
    Sick with the horror of it, Annika nodded.
    “You’re very kind, Annika Fridasdottor.”
    No. Just human.
    She returned to the troll, never hating anyone so fiercely in her life. It shook through her, swelled through her chest and stung her eyes. Lorenzo climbed the ladder behind her. Could she do anything from here? No. But twenty-five men were inside that chamber. Every single one must have reason to hate him.
    Why didn’t they kill him? Why didn’t they revolt as Källa believed they would? What were they waiting for?
    Whatever Källa had seen in them, Annika couldn’t see it now. Only men who’d been beaten and hurt. Only a monster who’d taken pleasure in hurting them.
    She started the troll again, fighting back tears of rage and sickness.Lorenzo wouldn’t squeeze a single drop from her. She would never give him that satisfaction.
    And yet she must be already. Her breath came short and fast. Her control over the troll was failing, the foreleg sliding, the rhythm off, everything swaying, off balance.
    No. That wasn’t her. This was a quake.
    Sudden terror iced her chest. She dropped the troll into a squat. Violent jolts rocked through them, the lanterns swinging wildly, pure darkness ahead. Sick with fear, Annika gripped the levers, praying that the tunnel didn’t collapse.
    Her stomach felt on the verge of vomiting when the shaking stopped a minute later. Her limbs were heavy, impossible to lift, to start moving again—fearing that with a single step, the ice would shatter around them.
    Behind her, Lorenzo said, “Well. We made it through that.”
    That was enough to get her going again. Smashing down on the stompers, she drove the troll hard through the tunnel, desperate to be out—and away from the monster behind her and the horror she’d seen.
    She almost cried with relief when the faint light appeared through the dark. The sun had risen while they’d been beneath the ice. She didn’t care that it all but blinded her as she emerged onto the glacier path.
    A two-seater balloon was flying toward them, two figures in the cart. With her heart in her throat, she recognized the second man. David.
    “And look at that, now.”
    Lorenzo sounded surprised, but she wasn’t. David would have felt the quake. He’d known she was in the tunnel. Of course he would come.
    Or perhaps he was surprised that David had convinced a guard to take him.
    “You might as well stop, then. A few minutes of sun would dous well. And we can send our bleeding man back in the balloon. It will be faster, and I’m sure Kentewess will not mind riding with us.”
    Annika knew that Lorenzo just wanted to see what happened, wanted to observe them together. She didn’t care. As soon as the balloon landed, she ran to David. His arms closed around her, and the tears she’d been stopping had to come now. She buried her face in his shoulder.
    David didn’t let her hide. Gentle fingers tilted her chin up. Dark concern shadowed his face, deep worry. “Are you all right?”
    Throat blocked by a sob, she nodded.
    “God, Annika.” He clutched her to him. “I was terrified. I could only imagine the glacier falling in on you.”
    She’d been terrified, too. But she wasn’t now. Only relieved, so relieved. She was