Chapter 423: Secrets In The Stone

I led the way, Starlight Grace in hand as I traversed the endless depths of a dwarven mine.And then I stopped.

… Journey complete!

Making myself the most efficient princess to have never officially explored a hole in the ground, my delve through the bottomless chasm for which all dwarven mines were famed came to a sudden end. 

Indeed … all it took was slightly less time than for a new hire to make their first dash up my tower.

I looked behind me.

There at the entrance of the mine, Apple was idly chewing on a table. Both his satisfaction and the pouring sunlight invited me back outside. 

Were I a lesser princess, I’d gladly accept.

After all, it was clear why any inspectors would find no issue with the dwarven excavation. 

There was very little to inspect. 

All around me, a wide chamber as poorly hewn as it was unremarkable was being supported by a handful of wooden beams. A far cry from the crystalline palaces dwarves advertised their cherished mines to be.

Instead, the only glimmer came from the racks of mining picks, shovels and hammers. And unlike the tools wielded by the hoodlums outside, these were actually used. 

Piles of stone were bundled into wooden carts waiting to be trundled away … likely once all the other piles of stone still littering the ground had been brushed away by a passing maid.

Apparently, the dwarves were still in the making-a-mess stage of their surveying. 

However, while the lack of tidiness did little to improve their standing, it also suggested they’d told no tales. With such a modest excavation, even the most drunken miner couldn’t possibly cause the ground to shake–despite their best efforts.

Thus … I smiled while I went to work!

“Hm hm hm hm hmm ♫.”

Using Starlight Grace as a light source, I soothed my kingdom’s foundations with a gentle hum while patting the nearest wall for the telltale notches of a hidden door.

Something which would be quicker if Coppelia wasn’t just content to look amused. 

“Wow. I didn’t expect you to be in a good mood.” 

“Hm? Should I not be?”

“I mean, if dwarves are hiding stuff behind the walls, then that means there’s probably a lot of stuff. As in dying of malnutrition in an endless dungeon a lot.”

“Ohohoho … so you would think, except that it’ll actually be the opposite.”

“Eh?”

“Rest assured, my tummy has nothing to fear other than whatever our next inn will be serving. For a dwarven mine so modest, the accompanying hideaway housing all their illicit schemes will also be suitably tiny to match.”

“... Reaaaaaaally?”

Coppelia offered me a quizzical tilt of her head.

Her doubt was clear to see. But that was only understandable. 

She hadn’t read the brochures like I had.

Ohohohohoho!

Indeed, an innocent clockwork doll like herself might think this was the beginning to the Underhalls–and from there, an exit was only as close as the initial entrance.

But to me, it was Versatile Cavern #17A, suitable for use as a hidden lair, a workshop or a prison for housing a single prophesied farmboy before he escaped to begin the revolution.

“The dwarves have erred,” I said, offering a confident smile as I expertly poked the wall. “As expected, their greed has undermined themselves. There’s a reason the Royal Villa so often plays host to a dwarven delegation. It certainly isn’t to offer us an invitation in return. Instead, they wish to sell us the most expensive products they own.” 

“You mean their beard combs?”

“Even more expensive. I refer to the dungeons which directly compete with the Stonemason’s Guild. This means I’m well aware of their designs. What you see now is just a functional shelter which can be dug from a mountain, a basement or the beautiful bergamot orchard that will shortly replace it.”

“Oooh, I get it! That just means we need to find the secret door that comes with it, right?”

“Quite so. Please let me know if you see one.”

Coppelia immediately pointed.

“There’s a small depression in front of a suspiciously smooth part of the wall.”

“Excellent. Please do not step on it. Any hidden mechanism found within 15 seconds is for adventurers. Only fireballs await whoever activates it.”

“Can’t we just avoid the fireballs?” 

“Yes. But there’s no passage beyond. I also don’t want the fireballs to be wasted.”

Coppelia nodded. 

She pointed again almost immediately.

“There’s a lever tucked away in a recession in the wall.”  

“Wonderful. Please do not pull it. The second hidden mechanism is for goblins. It’ll likely drop us into a hole until a smirking dwarf offers us a ladder. That’d be humiliating. I’d rather stay down there.”

Coppelia hummed as she narrowed her eyes, carefully assessing all the darkest bits of the walls.

After a moment, she pointed once more.

“There’s a tiny button hidden in the shadows.”

“Truly?” I clapped my hands in delight as I found it. “My, that’s wonderful! … Please do not push it.”

“Eh? Really?”

“Really. The third hidden mechanism is for professionals. Definitely do not touch that. The dwarves do not permit even the ashes of thieves to remain.” 

Coppelia tilted her head in thought.

“Hmmmmmm … a third hidden trap pretending to be a door feels a bit excessive. Do dwarves really advertise requiring so many when selling these things?” 

“No, it was learned through trial and error. Those we hire to find entry into the Kingdom Under The Mountain are always met with three sets of false promises. Each proves more difficult to find, but results in the same level of regret.”

“Wow. How do they find the fourth one, then?”

“They don’t. Up until now, everyone has failed. The real hidden door and its release contraption is far more elusive.” 

Like a confused owl, Coppelia turned while blinking in every direction.

Her smile soon brightened.

“Okay! I think I know why! … It might not actually exist.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said as I continued my delicate poking. “The dwarves may excel at hiding their doors when all we want is to ransack their riches, but I’ve no doubt that with your excellent eyes and my princess senses, we’ll soon find what everyone else has missed.” 

“Alrighty~!”

Buoyed by my vote of confidence, Coppelia continued her search. As did I.

30 minutes later–

“... W-Why can’t I find the hidden door?!” 

I raised my arms in exasperation … all the while staring at every part of the wall my sword lit up.

Coppelia helped by sitting on the edge of a mining cart, so optimistic in our abilities that she found time to simply swing her legs.

“Are you sure there’s another one?” she asked, failing to hide her amusement. “Maybe one of the hidden mechanisms we already found isn’t actually trapped.” 

“Nonsense. Dwarves are far too uncanny for that. Otherwise they wouldn’t be so good at keeping out intruders.”

“In that case, it needs to be really hidden. Probably in a way only dwarves can see it. If we want to find it, we’re going to have to kidnap a dwarf.”

My mouth widened in horror.

The very suggestion appalled me.

Kidnapping a dwarf was a moral issue. My nose would never forgive me.

No … if I wished to unravel their secrets, I needed to think like a dwarf. 

Clearly a problem. I was a princess. To assume the mind of a dwarf was like asking an adventurer to consider using a napkin. It was simply far too high a hurdle. 

… And that was all the more reason to trust in my senses!

Indeed, I could spot a wayward thread on a cuff from 40 paces away! What could a dwarf discern that I couldn’t? If they saw a blemish, then I’d already wrinkled my nose about it! 

The issue was that everything was a blemish

In a stunning act of subterfuge, these dwarves had been so lazy that they didn’t even bother constructing an actual mine as their public front. Just as any generic lair would demand, everything was a mess.

Everything, that is … except for their tools.

The racks were in pristine order. 

The array of pickaxes, shovels and hammers were each neatly lined up, ready to be retrieved, inspected or scrubbed at a moment’s notice.

Pretend miners or not, all dwarves treated their tools with reverence. 

Even the hoodlums outside had carried theirs while everything else deserved the treatment of tankards rolling on the ground. Dwarven tools were the foundations of their power. It was only natural they were offered respect.

All the more glaring, then, that a single pickaxe had its head angled exactly 2 degrees. A glaring imperfection as unforgivable as a wonky portrait.

I walked over and duly poked it into place.

BruuMmmMm.

A minor rumbling sounded.

I was rewarded a moment later by a section of the wall rising to reveal a hidden passage beyond.

“Ohohohohohohoho!!” I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. “... Behold, Coppelia! The feeble duplicitousness of dwarves! By deliberately drawing our eyes to the contraptions upon their walls, they optimistically hoped that we wouldn’t notice the clumsy attempt at hiding what was in plain sight!”

Coppelia clapped in a way which almost suggested she’d known all along about the pickaxe. 

Almost. 

“Ooooh, I’m so impressed! You found something other humans would only solve after accidentally headbutting it!”

“Why, that’s only natural! My head is far too delicate for practical use! … In fact, I do my best to avoid using it for anything whatsoever!”

I offered a smile brighter than my sword, then made my way towards the newly revealed entrance.

“... Very well! Let us proceed. In this kingdom, barns are not allowed to shake for any reason other than a procession of royal carriages. We must remind our friends below the surface what the pecking order is for public inconveniences.”

“Okie~”

My loyal handmaiden offered an enthusiastic nod. 

She followed as I slipped through the gap to where a corridor awaited … albeit only after several seconds.

Inside, it was clear from the smooth walls and the ornate patterns stolen from my family’s porcelain collection that this was truly where the dwarves were scheming. 

I was delighted, of course. The amount of compensation this gross violation of my kingdom’s sovereignty demanded would be enough to pay for at least enough premium apples for our return to the Royal Villa.

Thus, I swiftly led the way … before coming to a stop as a pair of brightly shining baubles glittered in the shadows ahead.

I reached out with Starlight Grace.

For a moment, I puzzled over why the darkness wasn’t dispersing. And then I realised it was because the thing ahead of me was in fact so dark that it practically absorbed the light.

There, watching us with ease, was the silhouette of a very large creature taking up the entire corridor.

It boasted fur as lustrous as the midnight sky, eyes which shone brighter than any vault and a face which was uncannily similar to that of a beautiful woman’s. 

Except with a few key differences. 

Her expression most of all.

It was so unmoving that she could have been a masterfully chiselled statue.

She wasn’t, of course.

No statue could have fur quite as fine as hers. Nor wings so detailed. Or a headpiece so regal.

They generally didn’t have a peckishness for eating princesses, either.

“Greetings,” said the sphinx. “I regret that you should have chosen the door after this one.”