The sound of impact echoed through the pit like thunder.
Tarvek's head snapped up from his work, his pickaxe frozen mid-swing. Around him, other slaves did the same, their eyes wide as they tried to locate the source of the noise.
It had come from nearby. Close enough to feel the vibration through the ice beneath their feet.
"What was that?" Mekris whispered, his voice barely audible over the ambient sounds of the pit.
"I don't know," Tarvek replied, his hands tightening on his pickaxe. "But it sounded like something fell."
"Or someone," Velika added quietly.
The three of them exchanged glances, then slowly, carefully, began moving toward where the sound had originated.
Other slaves followed, drawn by curiosity and the universal instinct to witness whatever catastrophe had befallen someone else.
The guards shouted at them to return to work, but even their commands lacked the usual authority.
