The Orphans' Promise by Pierre Grimbert

of a heavy hardwood door. It had no lock and looked a lot like the one in Raji’s farm on the other end of the tunnel.
    “How do we open it?” Grigán asked.
    “We wait for it to disappear, and then we walk through it,” Rey joked, referencing the wonder on the island of Ji.
    The warrior shot him a dark, threatening look. Rey acknowledged that he may have gone too far. He had promised not to reveal the island’s secret, and was determined to respect his promise at all costs. He gave Grigán a subtle apologetic gesture. It was the first time he had ever felt the need to apologize to someone.
    Raji didn’t notice a thing. He was busy repeatedly tugging on a hidden cord that stretched along the ceiling right next to the wall.
    “What’s that?” Grigán asked with a distrustful expression.
    “It rings a bell above,” Raji answered without pause. “To tell my partner to come down and open the door. It’s true, I swear, you have my word!”
    The warrior gauged the little smuggler in silence. A dagger had appeared in Grigán’s hand as if by magic. Rey understood that if this were a trap, Raji would be the first to regret it.
    The actor also prepared himself for the possibility, drawing a dagger. For a moment he thought about using the
hati
, but he pushed the idea away in disgust. His sense of morals, peculiar as it was, didn’t allow him to use a poisoned blade.
    A knot in the door disappeared, allowing a ray of light to pass through. An inquisitive eye appeared for a brief moment.
    “Raji?” yelled a worried voice. “What’s going on? Who are these guys?”
    “Friends,” Grigán responded calmly. “We’re unarmed.”
    The warrior was discreetly holding Raji at knifepoint.
    “How’s it going, Bellec?” the little smuggler asked, cheerfully. As a connoisseur, Reyan admired Raji’s acting performance.
    The eye reappeared in the knothole briefly, quickly examining Rey and Grigán.
    “Do we know each other?” Bellec questioned the strangers.
    “We’ve done business together,” the actor declared. “Through Raji. Do you remember the
centenarian’s
liquor? I’m the one you ran it for.”
    The man behind the door remained silent. Nothing proved that the strangers were telling the truth. They could have extorted that information from Raji.
    “Bellec, please open up,” the little man groaned. “Everything’s fine.”
    There was a renewed silence before Bellec complied and set about unblocking the door. The three men and the donkey quickly passed through the opening, under Bellec’s worried watch.
    He had the typical look of a Lorelien satisfied with his commercial success. Rather small and plump, with a tanned complexion from the sunshine of the southern Upper Kingdoms. His appearance was well kept, as was natural for any innkeeper or civilized trader, and it was obvious that he had never known hardship. But above all, Rey suspected he was nothing but an oafish, unsophisticated, crass man whose only concerns were monetary.
My fellow countryman
, Rey pondered in amusement.
    After some quick introductions orchestrated by Rey, Bellec rushed to close the door, as if some more strangers were about to invade his cellar. It was a considerably smaller cellar than Raji’s storeroom, but just as well organized. The two smugglers wentto work placing the goods on the shelves. Grigán waited for them before continuing on.
    “I hope that you trust your friends, Raji,” Bellec commented. “I myself have never shown our tunnel to anyone.”
    “
My
tunnel,” the little man corrected.
    “That ends in
my
cellar. Try to remember that in the future. And see to it that you spare me this kind of situation again.”
    Raji was about to protest that he hadn’t had a choice, but let it go as soon as the thought struck him. No one ever listened to him anyway.
    Once the stores were on the shelves, everyone moved into the side room, Bellec’s real cellar.
    Bellec concealed the door to his secret storeroom behind a large