A Hero's Curse by P. S. Broaddus Page B

brings my thoughts back to the gathering—I hear an answering chirp several yards ahead. And then we are turning and walking down and past two salamanders who sing several times in answer to the chirps from our group. As we emerge from the tunnel into what feels like an enormous cavern, I hear hundreds, no thousands, of chirruping salamanders.
    From my shoulder Tig sucks in his breath. “There are reds and blues and oranges, and greens, and even some bright yellow salamanders bustling and scampering through a cavernous underground city,” he narrates. “It looks like a wild, colorful mess.”
    I let the music wash over me. It isn’t exactly a song but it has a rhythm that is soothing and exciting at the same time. It permeates the ground and shivers in the air. As my escorts walk me down a gently sloping path into the city I feel several small hands tag me. Tig, from his vantage point on my shoulders, tells the story.
    “You’ve got several little miscreant salamanders who are trying to be heroes and tag the blind girl.” His tail flicks around and catches me under the nose. “Ahh, looks like they are getting theirs from some of our guards.”
    “Do the guards have weapons?”
    “Short sticks with pointy ends.”
    “You mean spears,” I correct.
    “No, spears would indicate a long-handled weapon with a dangerous point fashioned of some type of hardened substance, usually a metal alloy. I meant what I said. Little pointy sticks that are probably too small to even pass for arrows.”
    “Oh. Do they look threatening?”
    Tig flicks his tail again. “Ess, if you deliberately attempted to hurt yourself with their pointy sticks, you might get a splinter.”
    The chirrups around us increase in volume and quantity. My sensitive ears are drinking in the music, but it is almost too loud. Tig chuckles.
    “More and more Urodela are noticing the girl in the blue shirt with the handsome and dangerous looking creature balanced on her shoulders.” Tig leans across my shoulders, taking a long look around the city, and I feel the crowds of Urodela pushing in. “There’s a whole gaggle of salamanders pressing in around our guards, trotting along with us. We’re the main attraction. Wish I had taken a little more ‘me’ time. I’ve been too busy playing nursemaid to properly care for the coat.” Tig’s whiskers tickle my ear. “There is a whole city down here. We’re in a huge cavern. The ceiling is far above us with that light-green moss growing on it. The homes are mostly one- to two-story buildings. I can’t tell what they are made of because they’re covered with moss. They’re pretty small compared to anything we’re used to. Not that we’ll be too put out. You might bump your head at the top of the door of some of these places but for the most part it just looks cozy. This whole city looks like one big fuzzy scratching post.”
    That makes me grin. “No sandbox though,” Tig mutters. “We’re moving toward the largest building in the city. This one is several Urodela stories high and is covered in the blue moss. We’re being marched up a long broad street that looks like some kind of main thoroughfare.” 
    With the singing around me, Tig on my shoulders, and the pain gone, I feel calm. I even try to remind myself that I have essentially been captured by creatures I can’t understand—except for the one, I realize I didn’t even get its name—who are leading me . . . somewhere.
    Nevertheless, I can’t reason myself into being afraid. With the moist and springy moss beneath me I relax even more. My poor feet have taken such a beating that the moss feels wonderful. How does moss grow down here? I wonder. “Is all the moss on the floor still blue?” I ask quietly—not that it’s necessary. The chirruping song around us is so loud I doubt any Urodela can hear us.
    “Still that rich blue, and it’s growing over every inch of the floor in the cavern,” Tig says. “Something is glowing on the