Measures erased

The refuge was on the edge of a large cave crossed by rusty rails. The rails were lost in a clear stone tunnel, then reappeared on the other side, twisted and broken. Low houses had been built in the old loading rooms. The doors were painted in different colors, and yellow glass lanterns hung above the entrances.

A woman with braided hair was waiting for them near a scale. Her name was Hara Denvin, guardian of the measures. She checked Ysil's plate, then asked the group to put down the long weapons at the entrance.

"The daggers stay on the belts," she added. "We know you have it. Don't pretend otherwise."

Brakka detached his axe and placed it on a rack. The others followed. Zaelyra put her knife back after asking if she could take it back to cut the food.

"Yes. We'll give it back to you at the exit."

"What if I have to take it before?"

"You ask."

There was nothing humiliating about the answer. Zaelyra accepted the rule.

Hara took them through the old weighing room. Stone scales still measured the loads, each marked with a different weight. The inhabitants had transformed the old docks into stalls. Salt, dried mushrooms, pieces of leather, lamps and maps engraved on thin plates were sold there.

"Are you cartographers?" " asked an old merchant when she saw the cases.

"Some," replied Zaelyra.

"So don't draw the rails. They don't lead anywhere anymore."

"We saw them."

"Everyone sees them. That's why they continue to attract people."

Hara led them to a room where the measurements of the old routes were kept on shelves. Several had been scratched. Some had two superimposed numbers, an old distance and a new one. Others had been broken in half.

"Who erased the statements? Zaelyra asked.

"People who thought they were protecting their community," says Hara. "Others have erased the names of the guides so that they cannot be held responsible for mistakes. Then each accused the next one."

"Why keep them like this?" asked Ithryl, who had just joined them after falling behind in helping an injured child.

"So that no one can claim that the measure has always been the same."

Hara showed them a plan of the Western network. He stopped at a gorge called the Tin Trench. Beyond that, the journeys had been copied from several sources without a reliable date.

"We are looking for a way to the Marches de Lune," says Zaelyra.

"Everyone is looking for her, at one time or another."

"Do you know if it exists?"

"Yes."

"Is it practicable?"

"In places."

"Is there an exit to the surface?"

"I've never seen one."

Hara didn't want to sell them a map. She agreed to show them the way to the Trench, provided that they leave a copy of their observations on the watchtower and that no refuge name appeared on the public version.

"Why help us?" asked the merchant.

"Because you brought a returned plaque, not a stolen plaque. Because you wrote what you didn't know. And because we were told that people sold fake passages with the brands of several communities."

"Do you know who made them? Zaelyra asked.

"No. But we received a copy. She wears a spider symbol."

Zaelyra thought about the token found in the post's automaton. She showed it to Hara.

The caretaker did not touch him. "This sign was used by a former road company. They haven't been there for generations."

"By whom?"

"Drows guides, dwarf miners and human merchants. The mark indicated that the load had been weighed and the passage had been inspected. It was not an emblem of the House."

"Why did she disappear?"

"Because a company wanted to own it. The others stopped using it."

"They destroyed their own brand?"

"They preferred to lose a symbol rather than let it become a seal of control."

Zaelyra noted the story with Hara's reserves. She did not write that the company had been linked to Drizzt. The name did not appear anywhere in the shelter documents.

In the evening, Hara showed them the rails. Part of it led to an old depot, where carts were still loaded with empty boxes. The mechanism had stopped working when the gallery had sunded. Residents had kept the wheels to repair doors.

Tazri found a tablet stuck under one of the axles. A list of travelers was engraved on it, with weights and passage marks. The last visible name was Venn.

Senn took the tablet, then put it on the table in front of Hara. "Do you know this name?"

"There were several Venn."

"A copper craftsman, two missing fingers in his left hand."

Hara looked at Zaelyra, as if to ask if the information was verified. She indicated that it was the description given by Senn, not a confirmed fact.

"I knew a Venn who worked the axles," says Hara. His hand was stiff, not amputated. He left the shelter four years ago. I don't know if he returned to the east."

Senn passed his finger over the name, without touching the engraving. "It's the closest I've had."

"Do you want to stay? Zaelyra asked.

"No."

"Do you want to go south?"

"No. I want to see the Tin Trench. If my father went through this, someone might know something."

"What if no one knows?"

Senn shrugged his shoulders. "Then I'll know that."

Hara authorized a copy of the list, provided that the names of the other travelers were removed. Senn accepted. He only kept Venn and the date, without saying that it was his father.

The old rail merchant joined them. "Are you going to the Trench?"

"Yes," says Zaelyra.

"So don't take the carts."

"We don't have one."

"So much the better. Those who wanted to get them back on have awakened a mechanism under the track. The stone is still moving."

Hara confirmed that the Trench was unstable since last season. They could reach it with a guide, but no one would promise them to cross it.

"How long before the road is closed?" asked the merchant.

"I don't know."

This time, the merchant did not sigh. He asked what reserves should be left at the shelter if they had to turn back.

Hara showed them the marks of the previous shipments. They prepared a list of what they would take and what they would return, and then divided the weight between the groups. Travelers who had chosen to leave for the Salines could collect part of the food at the next relay.

Zaelyra copied the rail plan and Venn's list on two separate sheets. She did not yet know if Senn's father had crossed the Trench. But the rails had kept the weight of the loads, even when the names had been erased.