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Skylar was unhooked from the leather cuffs and rested on her knees as the keepers replaced the leather restraints with metal ones. She heard them talking, but it all sounded muffled and incoherent. All she could do was linger on her burned red wrists, at the blisters and the red veins traveling up her arms. Her chest still stung from where the electricity had stabbed her heart, and she felt the aches of every scar that had been inflicted onto her body. The leather strap was still in her mouth when the keepers lifted her up by her arms and dragged her out of the room. She never did see Cross Lutherus move from where he lay.
The corridor stretched out before her as the keepers dragged her away. Skylar lifted her head up, allowing it to roll back so she could stare at the ceiling. It looked like an empty abyss that the stone walls were holding up, Death’s canopy that hung over them all. Skylar blinked, her breaths quickening in the anxiety that was beating where her heart should have been. She moved her gaze to see the profile of one of the keepers, who kept his face forward as he helped drag her, hearing her chain rattling from her cuffed wrists in the background. She heard the screams breaking through from somewhere, demons clawing louder and closer than before. Skylar kept her mind on the keeper, on his focused demeanor.
The men had only dragged her halfway down the corridor when the sharp explosion rocked the tunnel, throwing them forward off their feet and pulling Skylar down with them. Something monstrous groaned from underneath, and suddenly the entire hallway dropped. Skylar felt the air under her, her stomach tingling into her throat as the floor fell faster than she did. Right when she was about to scream through the leather strap, the floor came to an abrupt halt. Her body slammed hard into the stone ground, the chain that bound her wrists slapping her across her face. All she saw was darkness before the coldness brought her back to reality, resurfacing just enough for her eyes to flutter partly open. With stars in her eyes, Skylar saw the fuzzy images of the keepers stumbling to their feet and running away from her. They were soon tiny figures that disappeared at the end of the hallway, all sound lost except for the ringing in her ears.
The next explosion rattled the walls, dust shaking out of the stone cracks. Small rocks fell on her from the ceiling as it shifted and crumbled overhead. Something called to her, not a word but a sound she thought she would never hear again. Skylar could barely raise her head, but it didn’t stop her from trying to open her eyes further. “Harlin?” she moaned through the leather strap, over her cracked and bloody lips.
There were muffled screams, and a bright light flashed at the end of the corridor, smoke from the broken steam pipes billowing in waves across the entrance. Skylar dug her fingers under the leather strap around her face, trying to pull it down despite its hold on her. It fought her, pulling at her skin, her jaw, her hair. With no result, she continued to lie on her chest as she felt the leather all the way to the back of her head. She found the buckle and pulled at the clasp with her blistered fingertips until finally the straps came apart and the leather fell out of her mouth. With gasps, she tossed the leather to the side and rubbed her sore mouth and cheeks, closing her eyes to savor the relief.
Moving herself forward with her elbows, the chain between her wrists scraped against the stone, the sound causing her ears to hurt further. Another shockwave rippled across the corridor, more debris falling around her, but Skylar kept on, pushing against the stone until she was able to crawl. Then as more screams pierced the dampness of the air, she lifted herself up onto her knees and very carefully put her foot out in front of the other, hoisting herself up. She teetered but regained her footing, hunched over and trembling. Raising her torso, she took a cautious step forward, her feet scuffing against the floor as she tried to walk.
A tremor erupted from underneath, causing Skylar to fall into the wall. Breathing hard, she kept moving, using the wall as a crutch while keeping her head down in order to watch for the chunks of ceiling that had fallen in her path. Coming to the end of the hallway, she was met with a blinding light that stopped her dead in her tracks, and she had to shield her eyes by burying her face into the wall. The screeching sounds, the screams, the hysteria, the gunfire—it all bellowed around her like an angry swarm. The quakes ricocheted between it all, spastic pulses in a horrific display of devastation.
Keeping herself upright against the wall, she slowly moved her head towards the light, trying to adjust her eyes to the daylight she hadn’t seen in who knew how long. She stared at the open ceiling that had once been pitch-black, its jagged edges trying to pierce the luminous sight, the glorious storm clouds against the brightly lit sky. But in horror, Skylar lowered her gaze and stared wide-eyed out across the center of the prison, coming face to face with destruction and its aftermath.
The prison was collapsing, splitting apart and free-falling straight down in sections, crushing cells in some parts, other parts taking prisoners down with it. Skylar peered over the platform and railing in front of her, finding that the main floor had been replaced with the rising ocean that was now flooding the lower half. Some of the platforms had broken off, and most of the stairways led to nothing, if they even remained at all. Pipes that had burst shot fierce sprays of steam out into the open, and all around were screams and groans, keepers running and falling and being burned by the sprays of steam.
An explosion convulsed from underneath, flinging Skylar forward onto her stomach. She skidded across the platform and landed almost halfway over the edge. Throwing herself frantically back, Skylar kept one hand on the railing to steady herself as she watched the wall of prison cells across from her break apart. In one single block, the cells slid straight down into the crashing water below, and she didn’t know how many cells disappeared beneath the waves before the structure hit its bottom and came to a deadly halt. The cells that had been broken either caged half-alive prisoners or had crushed the captives entirely.
“Skylar!”
His voice sounded like a distant foghorn against the massive chaos storming around her. She looked over the edge and searched for him, only seeing prisoners who were still alive yelling and stretching out their hands through the bars for help. Then there were the keepers who were being flung over into the water from the tremors. Some rushed the stairs and platforms that were still intact; others paced and screamed while they were trapped on levels with no way out except jumping. One man she noticed had stumbled back too close to the prison bars, and the prisoner had caught him around the neck.
“Skylar!”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself by shutting out the confusion. Taking a deep breath that hurt her chest, she looked back out across the prison and searched for him, terrified that it was a memory and nothing more.
Another platform collapsed from underneath; another shock vibrated up the stone structure, terrifying those trapped inside. Skylar was about to back away entirely until the gun shots were fired. Looking to the right, she saw keepers backing out of a hallway, the last man being shoved straight off the ledge where part of the platform remained. The keeper fell into the dark waters below, and when Skylar lifted her horror-stunned eyes from the sight, she saw Harlin standing where the keeper had been just seconds ago.
Grabbing the railing with both hands, Skylar pulled herself to her feet, never taking her eyes from his form. His black leather appearance; his gun in one hand and short sword in the other; his leather eyepatch he wore to replace his left eye. She felt her heart ache for him, felt remnants of the electric currents under her skin when she saw him looking out across the devastation. Even in the distance, she could see his jaw clenched in frustration, his eye determined and his body prepared for the war around him.
Then he started running in the opposite direction when he didn’t see her.
“HARLIN!” she screamed out until her chest shook and her lungs were out of breath. Her call echoed only once before she saw him skid to a halt and turn to face the direction the voice had come from. When he caught sight of her, she watched in exhilaration as he ran towards her, jumping off the platform and onto the remains of a stairwell. He landed on the steps and ran without breaking stride, coming up to a keeper who raised a gun at him. The keeper fired one shot before the short sword was thrown into his chest. As he fell backwards, Harlin was already running past him, grabbing the handle of the sword and pulling it out of the man.
Something blew up from somewhere deep under the foundation, and a giant burst of water sprung up in the middle of the prison, spraying everywhere as the entire structure shook from whatever explosion had taken place. Skylar gripped the railing tighter, hearing it crack underneath her. She turned just as the ground broke in half, tearing as it dropped from under her. Skylar fell, catching the edge while the rest of the platform and railing plunged downward, crashing into the water. There was only air under her legs as she clung to the broken stone with her arms. She looked frantically to where she last saw Harlin, finding him stretched on his back on a stairwell that didn’t collapse. He was regaining himself as a keeper began to charge towards him from behind.
“Hang on!” voices shouted, and she found that they were coming from the prisoners in the cells in front of her, pressing their faces against the bars. The one whose cell was next to the hallway was ripping his blanket apart, tying the strips into pieces while the other prisoners all clamored together in their pleas for her to not move.
Steadfast in his quest, the prisoner held on to the end of the makeshift rope while tossing the other end to her. Skylar caught the rope, but when she put tension on the blanket in trying to climb, the seams ripped in half. Catching herself, Skylar’s shaking hands let go of the cloth as the prisoner pulled the blanket back to his cell. He quickly tore his shirt apart, using it to replace the part of the blanket that had ripped. Checking the knots, he leaned further into the bars and tossed the rope to her again. But Skylar didn’t move to catch it this time. Her eyes remained focused on the keeper who had appeared from the hallway she had stumbled out of just moments ago.
His armor and attire were dirty and scratched, revealing he had had a hell of a time getting to where he was. He shielded his eyes from the sunlight before dropping them to meet hers. Lowering his hand, he walked towards her, his face showing nothing but malice. When the prisoners saw him, they began to yell, cursing him, which he ignored. The prisoner with the blanket tried to charge at him through the bars, flinging his arm outward to grab a hold of the man but only catching air. The keeper kicked the makeshift rope away with his foot, then stopped right in front of Skylar, gazing down with no emotion in his eyes. Skylar looked up at him, at the man who had been pulling the lever in the electrocution room, as he rested the ball of his foot against her forehead.
“Leave her alone!” they called out, cursing at him and trying to rattle the bars with their hands.
Skylar began to shake with her breathing, the panic beating in her chest as the electrocutioner’s weight slowly forced her to slide backwards. She felt the dirt and dust scrape against her arms, heard the chain clink, saw past his foot the prisoners acting like animals in their cages. Through their rampage, Skylar kept her teeth clenched, the tears falling across her cheeks as she felt her body slip off the edge just a little more. The pressure of his foot was growing heavier, and she tried not to panic despite knowing that she was losing ground to hold onto.
“Mandolyn will fall,” the electrocutioner predicted. “You’re the last one, the only one.”
Skylar saw Harlin two platforms away and one row up, stabbing a keeper to death before rotating around to see her. Even half blind, his body managed to assess the risk that was pressing against Skylar’s skull. When the next keeper came up to him, he pivoted only enough to block the attack. The sword missed his shoulder by just inches before he grabbed the blade and shoved his elbow into the keeper’s face.
“For your sake, you better hope I die,” Skylar finally said seethingly, finding her strength while glaring back up at the electrocutioner.
The man chuckled deep in his throat. Nothing stopped him as he shoved his foot hard against her head, sending Skylar over the platform. But as she was thrown backwards, she snatched his ankle and took him with her. The stern grip and force of her pull flung him onto his back, and the platform rushed out from under him, launching him into the open space after her.
The air seeping past her recharged her adrenaline, and Skylar braced herself as she hit the water, sinking into the darkness that welcomed her back with open, cold arms. The water wrapped around her in the same way the icy pond had, so tight that she almost gasped. Peeking through her eyelids, she saw around her the shadowy underworld in the ocean—the souls of the prisoners who were still trying to hold their breaths, those who had let their breaths out, and others who floated after having long since drowned.
The water moved around her, throbbing into her legs and chilling against her back. Skylar kicked towards the surface, trying to use her bounded wrists as much as possible. As she swam upward, the stone structure around her quaked, and then one side slipped downward, cells collapsing on cells, crushing stone and bodies. The pounding thuds and screeching of steel erupted in her ears while the debris from the aftermath billowed forth like underwater clouds. She looked to the surface for hope as chunks from the broken ceiling hit the surface of the water in huge splashes and sank down around her.
Propelling herself upward, Skylar’s head finally burst through the water in gasps. There was movement off to the side, something dark throwing itself under the waves, but when she looked, all she saw were the collapsed wall of stone and iron bars. Her eyes trailed up into the eye of the devastation around her when she started to swim forward, overtaken by the rolling clouds and bright sky framed around the dark jagged edges of the prison. That was when something suddenly rose up behind her and grabbed her by her hair, pulling her back down under the waves. The chilling water buried her face all over again, and she threw her hands behind her head in order to pry the fingers from their hold. The air in her lungs slipped out of her nostrils while she angrily dug her nails between one of the fingers and snapped it backwards, the bones breaking from the force. There was a muffled cry in the water, and when she was free, Skylar spun around to find the electrocutioner.
Skylar lifted her legs and rammed her feet into his stomach, shoving herself away from him as she tried to swim backwards. An eruption of bubbles floated from his mouth, but pinning his lips shut, the electrocutioner started towards her before a dark void wrapped around his neck. Skylar’s eyes widened when she realized that it was Harlin who was holding the man’s head, his teeth gritted, even underwater. He laid his other hand against the man’s temple and in one swift jolt snapped the man’s neck. Bubbles filled the water with what was left in the electrocutioner’s lungs, and as easily as he had killed him, Harlin glided past the body, moving in a large stroke towards her.
Skylar automatically stretched her bound hands out to him, trying to reach him just to know that he was real. But instead of reaching out to her, Harlin ducked his head under her chain, and when he brought his head back up, his lips instantly found hers while his arms locked around her body, hers already around his neck. The momentum pushed their bodies upwards, and they didn’t break from their kiss even after they had resurfaced and air filled their nostrils. They suffocated each other with their affection, their fervor for the other almost devouring the breath from their lungs.
It was the screams that finally tore them apart, the terrible cracks of the stone and moaning destruction around them as parts of the structure began to fall further into the ocean. With her chained hands still around him, Harlin swam sideways towards a stairwell that was halfway out of the water, pulling Skylar with him, who tried to help swim as much as she could.
Reaching the stone steps, Skylar lifted her cuffed wrists from around his neck, and they both climbed to their feet and ran upward. But when they came to the platform, they were met with three prison keepers running down the attached stairwell towards them. Unsheathing his short sword from his back, Harlin jogged a couple paces forward to keep the fight away from Skylar. The blades crashed into each other just before the first keeper lost his hand and fell to the ground screaming, holding the arm that ended with exposed flesh and bone, spraying blood across the ground. Harlin had already moved onto the next Keeper, a single swing partly decapitating him. The keeper’s body hit the railing, flopping onto the floor before sliding off into the water below. The third keeper was more experienced, as evidenced by the way he held himself back to analyze the fight. He was able to defend himself by blocking Harlin’s attacks, making sure to keep his distance each time the attacking knight tried to strike.
It was by watching the scene that Skylar witnessed the amputated keeper scramble to his feet, his adrenaline overcoming his shock. As he stood up, his one remaining hand reached shakily to his small pistol, and Skylar rushed at him from behind. Throwing the chain of her cuffs over his head, she pulled back immediately, and the keeper choked and gagged. She had only struggled for a moment when something fell to the ground in the distance, and suddenly her chain yanked and the keeper she had choked collapsed forward. It wasn’t until he was lying face down on the ground with blood pooling around his head that she realized her chain was cut. Raising her eyes, she saw Harlin standing before her, his blade dripping and his uniform and face splattered with everyone’s blood but his own.
Harlin extended his hand out to her, and although stunned, Skylar took it. Looking up into his face, she caught him staring at her, noticing the marks on the corners of her mouth and the red indents on her cheeks from the leather strap. His expression was hardening the more he stared, but when the ground shook again, it snapped him back into reality. He squeezed her hand and then turned away and led her across the platform.
Skylar couldn’t help but look back at the keeper she had tried to stop. As brief as it was, she saw the deep cut in his forehead, cutting straight into the skull and down towards his face before the ground masked the rest of it. Gut-wrenched, she pulled herself together while Harlin led her past the other body and up the next flight of stairs. She didn’t dare look at the last keeper Harlin had struck down.
Their feet pounded up the steps until they reached the next platform, and as they set foot on the stone ground, another violent quake shifted underneath, and the platform cracked. Skylar didn’t see the ground was bending forward until after Harlin had thrown her into the prison bars, telling her to hang on. She tightened her grip on the bars as the wall shook, and Harlin flung his arm around her, grabbing the bar underneath her arm. There was a horrible, deafening groan when another part of the prison separated, crashing down with the cries of those that were trapped inside. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to panic, until the platform gave out underneath her feet. The sudden drop still made her stomach lift, and although her hands were white from gripping the bars, her body was caught by Harlin’s hold.
Finding a bar with her foot, Skylar placed her feet on it to secure her position. “Don’t move,” said a voice in her ear, and looking to the side, she found Harlin removing his arm from around her, using it to search the inside of his coat. She watched him work for a moment before looking over her shoulder at the prison walls across the way. They had sunk lower, and in the water she saw a few remaining keepers splashing, begging for help. They tried to climb up the bars but were unable to when the prisoners who were still alive attacked them, panic breathing life into their violence. Quivering against the cold terror, Skylar had to look away, closing her eyes while she pressed her forehead against the iron bars she held on to.
That was when she heard the voice in the dark. A soft, nurturing voice; a mother’s voice. Skylar didn’t open her eyes until she heard the baby.
The air pricked against her damp skin when her eyelids opened, making out the form that was huddled against the back of the cell—a girl barely her age cradling a small infant. Through her own tears, the prisoner was trying to comfort the weeping baby, trying to ease the thoughts of suffering that she knew would come.
Noticing the lock of the gate right next to her, Skylar immediately looked to Harlin, who had just pulled out a different type of gun, shoving a red tube into it. “Do you have your small dagger?” she asked him.
Harlin looked at her quizzically, never stopping his actions to load the gun until he, too, looked into the cell and saw the woman. With his arm wrapped around a bar, he tightened his hold on the gun while lifting his foot up and pulling out the small dagger that was secured inside his boot. He held the dagger out to Skylar, and she took hold of the handle. “Work with the lock; don’t be too firm yet too gentle,” he instructed her.
With a nod, Skylar inched her way towards the lock while Harlin watched her before continuing on with his previous task. Inserting the blade into the hole of the lock, she turned the handle back and forth, trying to work it open just as Harlin fired the gun. A red streak of light shot upwards and out past the jagged and broken ceiling before exploding into a red burst of sparks. Skylar peered up to witness it before turning back to her own task.
She had just felt something click in the lock when there was a groan and screech from underneath the depths of the water. Waves shot up further into the circular prison, and looking right at the mother, Skylar yelled for her just before the structure underneath gave out. Harlin flung his body onto Skylar just as the wall dived straight down, air rushing up past them. Skylar didn’t hear the young mother as the stones and debris from the cell split in half, crushing and burying her with her child.
Through the violent plunge, Skylar’s voice broke into an awful scream. It rose above her, stretching out into the daylight before throwing itself down into the water where she remained screaming, the waves crashing over her head and thousands of tiny bubbles blocking her vision. She thought she felt ice under her fingertips, a dark frost hovering above her that she couldn’t break through. She thought her crimson red dress was holding her down in the icy water until she felt Harlin unhooking her grip from the prison bars. His hand covered her mouth so she wouldn’t lose any more air. With her pressed against his chest, he pushed off the prison bars, leaving his small dagger in the lock as he kicked to the surface until both their heads burst through the cold water in gasps.
From behind her, Harlin pushed Skylar forward, forcing her to swim back towards the wall of bars. But she couldn’t; her hysteria had grabbed her by the throat and was causing her to hyperventilate while she wept.
“Skylar, this is not the time!” he shouted back, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her roughly, the water splashing around them.
“Didn’t you see?” she choked out through her sobs.
There was a pain that marred his face. “I’ve seen worse,” he reasoned. “Now swim.”
She followed him to the other side, half-swimming, half-dragged. They passed a keeper’s body that floated on the surface, and Skylar was grieving too much to react to it. Reaching the wall, Harlin and Skylar each took hold of the prison bars and hoisted themselves up so that only their knees remained in the cold water. Skylar glimpsed inside the cell, finding that half the cell was piled in rocks from when the wall had split in half. Keeping her hysteria at an arm’s length, she waited while Harlin assessed the situation.
“We have to climb,” he told her.
Skylar swallowed whatever rebuttal she had and followed his instructions. She grabbed the higher bar with both of her hands, but when she tried to pull herself up, something in the movement triggered her memory, of when her hands had been tied and the electricity had ripped through her body. The scare caused her hands to shake as she let go of the higher bar and snatched the bar in front of her again, unable to move while pressing her eyes shut. The metal cuffs clinked rapidly against the bars due to her trembling limbs.
“Skylar, we have to,” Harlin’s voice reminded her, but then he stopped.
Skylar kept her eyes shut when she felt his fingers gently touch her wrist, moving the leather handcuff aside to see the burns he had somehow missed. The tears spilled out across her cheeks when she felt his thumb trace down her arm, already knowing he was following the red scars and eventually seeing the burn on her ankle. Then his hand moved her hair off her back, and she learned that the loose stitch keeping her torn dress together had not gone unnoticed. He pulled gently on the top, and she knew he saw the first of the cuts on her back when he abruptly let go.
Opening her eyes, it took her a moment before she could look at his iron-tight jaw and hard gaze. His expression explained that he knew exactly what they had done to her, down to the details, and it enraged a part of him that was almost animalistic. But she also saw that he didn’t feed into his anger, and instead gently took her hand and placed it on the higher bar. Keeping his grip on hers, he explained, “There’s nothing more frightening than giving into fear.”
Looking up at the bar overhead, Skylar saw the only option he gave her when he dropped his hand back down and hers remained alone. She stretched her other hand up and grabbed the higher bar again, and taking a couple breaths, she lifted herself up despite how bad she was shaking. Halfway, Harlin’s arm wrapped around her legs and pushed her upwards. The force helped her get a firmer grip on the side bars above it, and when he let go, she was able to climb up just enough to place her foot on the bar she had recently grabbed. Breathing hard, she looked down and watched as Harlin followed, climbing resiliently after her. They made eye contact only once but made no attempt at words. Skylar repositioned herself, grabbed the top bar, and Harlin gave her a boost, in which she repeated her actions.
On and on they went, slowly climbing up what seemed a never-ending trail of prison bars. Skylar looked into each of the cells they passed, though terrified of what she would find. Her terror met her at the next level when she found a male prisoner still alive, the lower half of him gone while just enough of him still remained to feel the pain and moan for mercy. Her stomach instantly turned when she saw him, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in wanting to flee from the scene.
“Close your eyes,” Harlin whispered, and obediently Skylar closed them. She couldn’t help feeling relieved when Harlin’s gun fired, the sound sharp and amplified in the cell. The silence that remained both disturbed and relaxed her, because it was the same silence that had followed the other prisoners. The sound of death. The sound of peace.
“Sir Brien!” came a sharp yell, and both Skylar and Harlin threw their heads back to look up into the suddenness of the words.
On top, overlooking the cracked edge of the prison’s roof, was a man. The open sky was too bright for Skylar to see who he was. As she tried to stare up at him with hope fluttering in her eyes and the steel clouds rolling softly behind him, she saw two more heads peer over the side.
“I think it’s finally hit its foundation!” the man shouted to them.
“I hope so!” Harlin yelled back. “Do you have a rope for us?”
“Yes, sir! It’s coming down shortly!” The man then disappeared to shout orders.
“Are they keepers?” she whispered to him.
“They’re sailors,” he replied with a slight smile. “You have a very hearty group of them.”
Skylar sighed with relief. She kept her eyes upward, looking at the black, jagged roof edges, the soft blue sky, and massive clouds. She watched as the man reappeared, tossing over a thick rope, the end of it tied in a giant loop.
“Okay!” Harlin called out, to which the men above halted their work when they saw that Harlin had reached out and caught hold of it. He was securing the knot’s strength when Skylar told him, “You can go first.”
“Don’t try me,” he warned, draping the loop over her. “Now sit back on the rope and hang on here,” he directed, placing her hands above the knotted area. Skylar did what she was told, sitting on the rope and allowing her feet to dangle in the air. Her eyes trailed up the rope to where it disappeared up top, and she had just turned back to Harlin when they started to slowly pull her upward.
Hanging on for dear life, her eyes never left his, and she smiled as she teased, “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” he answered, his familiar playfulness peeking out.
They watched each other until finally she reached the edge of the collapsed roof, and the sailors grabbed her hands and pulled her over. Skylar had barely touched the ground with her feet when they pulled the rope from around her, and that was when she saw among the sailors the crumbling ruin of what was left of the prison. With two sailors on either side of her, they helped her cross the path they had made, helping her down the narrow and rather steep trail, around broken towers and across uneven ground. Skylar had tried to look around, but she was too unsteady even with the help. The breeze nipped at her damp dress and hair, causing her to shiver as she picked her way through the rubble, the men never letting go of her.
Once the ground flattened out, the sailors led her to a large stone that rested on the side of the pathway, one of them helping her sit while the other shouted for a physician. She had to look around him in order to see that the other sailors she had passed were throwing the rope back down for Harlin.
“My God,” a sailor nearby murmured, and Skylar knew he had seen the burns on her wrists. She withdrew her eyes from the sailors and looked about her, finding that they had come to rest on the wall where the keepers had once patrolled for any unwanted visitors. Looking over her shoulder, she found only two walls still standing, while the rest had crumbled with the remainder of the prison, piles of broken stone rather than a structure.
Then her gaze left the prison and went out over the water, seeing for the first time what had caused the collapse. The sailors of Correnth had come in full force, floating in the currents, steamships of all sizes surrounding what was left of the prison. They sat waiting on edge in the water, anticipating the next move.
“How did you do all this?” she whispered, unable to take her eyes from the sight.
One of the sailors smiled at her, an old man with a couple of teeth missing. “By repetitive force.”
She looked at him quizzically before the other sailor, a younger man with red hair, explained better. “Sir Brien deserves the credit, Your Highness. He found the rebels who were against the inquisition, had them help him break into the alchemy lab to get materials to make more UPEs. While we built them, Sir Brien was placing explosives by hand at the prison’s foundation. Impressive swimmer, he is. You might have felt them go off occasionally.”
Skylar nodded, thinking of the shudders that had gradated over time, of the late Garen Cowl and the news of the alchemy lab being raided, and that Harlin had been close by all along. “UPEs?” she finally asked, unable to recall what they were.
“Underwater propelled explosives. Our ships are designed for them, to fire underwater for attack or defense purposes.”
“Drawing the advisor in, he was,” the old man cut in, unable to contain his excitement for the rest of the story. “It sped up the plans that advisor had. Felt he was running out of time keeping you locked in a place that was continuously under attack by someone he couldn’t find. Just waited until he arrived, and then BAM! Repetitive force.”
“It also helped that the prison’s physician had a soft spot for you.” The red-haired sailor smiled. “Dr. Laurence was the one who relayed news about you to Sir Brien.”
Skylar smiled, though her attention wandered to the dozens of sailors that had swarmed the path in front of them, coming up from somewhere unknown in order to aid the rescue. They came forward until the red-haired sailor assured them that she was all right and needed air. In respect, they kept their distance. Then she saw movement to the side and saw at the end of the other wall a man directing signals to the ships with two flags—their common code of semaphore—to relay news to the ships on the water. Skylar watched his fluid movements until someone approached. Looking up, she found a bearded sailor taking his jacket off and then draping it over her shoulders. “You need it much more than I do,” he said as he grinned underneath his thick mustache when she tried to decline.
“Thank you,” she whispered, to which he bowed before stepping away.
“News broke that you were here,” the old man commented, and when Skylar looked up at him, he sincerely added, “we all came to help.”
Skylar’s eyes began to glisten with tears, and she looked back out across the sea at the ships. She saw that the broadcast of her rescue had reached them when, one by one, the flags of Correnth were raised to the top, flapping in the breeze in support of the only Mandolyn they had left. Then the news reached the city when the small purple dots of the flags rose on top of the wall. A bright red streak shot straight up into the air, bursting into bright red sparks, the final declaration that Skylar Mandolyn, the abducted royal, had been rescued.
The back of her throat tightened just before she heard the familiar voice calling out past the crowd of sailors.
“Step aside, I need to examine her.”
The relief washed over her face as she stared at the prison physician, Dr. Laurence, as he made his way towards her. With a smile she stood up slowly, feeling the stress that had bruised her body now that the adrenaline was gone. The red-haired sailor immediately came to her aid, and she used him as a crutch when Dr. Laurence approached, only letting go when the physician opened his arms and hugged her like an old friend.
“Good to see you’re still alive,” he chimed, standing back to analyze her face through his gold spectacles.
“Likewise,” she said with a smile.
His hands instantly went from her face to her wrists, moving the leather, which scraped against her burns, making her wince. Trying not to think about it, Skylar stole a glance back over to the sailors on the roof, finding Harlin being helped over and his eye immediately finding hers. Harlin turned his attention back to the sailors to address them, accepting a cloth to wipe the blood from his face, and Skylar drew her attention back to Dr. Laurence, who had been talking.
“It’ll take a little longer, but the thymelock should be able to heal it.”
Skylar nodded in understanding but couldn’t hide her curiosity anymore. “How long was I in there?”
The physician looked at her, a sort of sadness crossing his features as a gust of wind rustled their clothes and made them both shiver. “Three days.”
Three days. The words stood out against the ruins and the ocean waves that broke against the crumbled stones. “That’s all?” Skylar whispered in shock.
“That was long enough,” Harlin’s voice broke in, making his way towards them.
“He’s right,” Dr. Laurence agreed as Harlin approached. As the knight gently took hold of one of Skylar’s cuffs and inserted a key into the lock, the physician continued, “I’m not sure how much more pain you could have endured.”
Skylar nodded in understanding, bringing the collar of the jacket up to keep the cold off her neck while Harlin unhooked her other cuff. A relaxed expression settled into the crevices of his eye when she looked at him.
“Now that you’re queen,” Harlin commented, “what is your first decree?”
Skylar swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling weakened against the aftermath of the attack. Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders, and even with the jacket on, she couldn’t fight off the chill that trembled up her legs and out through her hands. “Look for survivors,” she told him. “Any survivors.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She peered at Harlin and his cunning smile as he turned away to relay her orders, feeling overwhelmed by the appreciation she had for him and the men who had come to his call.
With his hand gently on her arm, Dr. Laurence and the red-haired sailor, with the old man right behind them, helped Skylar walk the rest of the way down the wall. The other sailors standing around had heard the previous exchange, and as Skylar passed by them, each one of them bowed their heads and said, “Long live the Queen.” Blushing, she continued slowly down the path, the stairwell, and the makeshift bridge to the rowboat, her escorts always by her side with the phrase following her as she went.
“I hope they all know how grateful I am,” she murmured as she was helped into the rowboat and seated.
“They do,” Dr. Laurence reassured her as he sat down next to her. The red-haired sailor, along with the old man and two more sailors, took their seats and raised their oars. Pushing away from the wreckage of the stone island, they began to row around it, the water lapping at the wood and making Skylar shudder, causing her muscles to hurt. “The only thought you need to concern yourself with is to get better,” the physician added, trying to comfort her when he saw her wince. “You have a lot of healing to do.”
Healing was not the thought that flooded her mind when she looked out past the open water into the distant horizon that stretched out in the direction of where Bellumortis lay. It was a different thought, a thought that welcomed her with open arms.
And for the first time, Skylar Mandolyn embraced it wholeheartedly.
It was the thought of war.
