Chapter 19

MINOX WAS GLAD HE HAD not told his mother not to worry. He said it was his intention to come home, and that had not happened. That was, barring a miracle, unlikely to happen. He would probably not see the sunlit sky again.

She would lose two children in a month. He hoped she would be able to bear it. He hoped that Oren would step up and be what she needed. Jace would be there for her. So would all the aunts and uncles. She had been a constable’s wife, she knew what it meant to go out for the last ride.

Bound with mage shackles, hood over his face, told he was going to be used for an experiment of obscenity, it was clear: this was his.

But if he was to die today, he would do his best to deal a wound to the Brotherhood in the process.

“The time is ripe. Let’s see what he can do.”

Minox was dragged along and then put on his knees before the hood was removed. Ithaniel Senek loomed over him, and behind him: the machine. This horror that was reminiscent of Sholiar’s gearbox devices, but even grander in scope than the one in the Parliament. Of all the frightening details, one jumped out above all the others: seven of the magic-draining spikes Nerrish Plum had used in his mage-killing spree. One of those had catalyzed the process that altered his hand.

“I won’t do anything for you,” Minox said to Senek. “Consider yourself bound by law. Charges will be laid against you. They will include, and not be limited to, kidnap and abduction, in multiple counts, and grave harm and mischief to the body, in multiple counts.”

“That’s quite a mouthful, my friend,” Senek said. He took Minox’s hand and lifted it up. It started to give off a faint blue glow, despite Minox’s current inability to channel any magic through it at the moment. “Fascinating that you achieved Lord Sirath’s dream here. How did you manage?”

“I’ve no idea,” Minox said. “Untrained. Uncircled.”

“Incredible. You have no idea what you have here. It’s as if a blind toddler scribbled wildly and wrote all the plays of Darren Whit.”

“Take off the shackle and I’ll show you what I can do,” Minox said.

“The fact that the shackle stops you at all shows me how unworthy you are.”

“Maybe so,” Minox said. “But this will not end with me. This city will stand up against you.”

“You are a fool,” Senek said. “I wish you knew how easily this city has fallen into our pocket.”

“The corruption may be deep,” Minox said. “But I will fight you to my end. And so will so many others. Whatever your evil, you will not succeed. This I promise you.”

“Very bold, very foolish words.”

“You’re wasting time, Ithaniel,” Crenaxin said. “Mister Welling here does not care one bit about what you think.”

“Fine,” Senek said. “Gurond! Put him in place.”

The giant Gurond picked Minox up and put him in a spot on the machine beneath one of the jade statues, and forced Minox’s hand into the hole designed for the spike.

To Minox’s horror, his hand shifted and flowed, like water, to fit into the hole perfectly. Like he was a key that just unlocked something. The gears of the machine began to move. Magical energy began to pour out of Minox, like he had never experienced before in his life. Flooding and rushing, more than he could ever hope to control.

The power to destroy the city.

It was too much, more than he could bear, and all he could do was look around, hoping to see something that he could use, something he could do, that would sabotage the plans of Ithaniel Senek and the Brotherhood.

The room was full of members of the Brotherhood, both the robed men and the transformed grotesques. Easily a hundred of them, if not more.

“Stop, please!”

Lin Shartien, the mage reporter from The Veracity Press, also in mage shackles. Had she come down with Dayne? Where was he? Had he truly been turned by the dark power of Crenaxin?

And if Crenaxin could do that, and the machine was to give him the power of the Nine . . . what did that mean for Maradaine?

Minox looked up. In the brass cages, several children had been bound, and Maresh Niol, Veracity’s artist, was shackled to a platform.

The magical energy was whirling through the machine, through Minox, out of the children, up onto the platform. Into Maresh. Magic and more, things Minox had no name for.

I still have my mind, Minox thought. I will find a way.

But as the magic curled and coalesced around Maresh Niol, Minox realized he was almost out of time.

Maresh screamed, with a voice that was in no way human.

“Yes!” Senek shouted. “It’s working!”

“The worthy vessel!” Crenaxin said. “It can be done!”

Purple smoke erupted from one side of the room. Then the other. Then a burst of sickly yellow smoke erupted around Gurond.

Minox looked up in time to see a flash of crimson race by, and the crack of wood against bone. The magical energy flooding through Minox suddenly stopped, leaving him breathless and drained.

But still, a smile came.

Veranix Calbert—the Thorn—was standing over Senek, cloak flowing, staff in hand.

“Gentlemen,” he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You’re all out of bed after curfew, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to issue demerits.”

Dayne took Asti out of the encampment, through the side hallways to the cells. Dayne remembered having gone down here before with Crenaxin; he remembered being happy about that. He could still feel that, and it repulsed him.

“Rynax,” he said. “How did you stay free from Crenaxin?”

“Honestly, I’m not, entirely,” Asti said. “I mean, I’m in control of myself, but . . .”

“I don’t understand.”

Asti paused. “I’ve already had my brain shattered by Poasian telepaths, who . . . put something in my head that was designed to serve the Brotherhood.”

“What?” Dayne asked.

“But I’ve got it . . . locked away, kept in place by the other broken part of my brain. I’m shattered. And I’ve . . . I’ve learned how to live with being shattered because . . . what choice do I have?”

“How?” Dayne asked. “How do you do that?”

“Day to day, hour to hour,” Asti said. “It’s still a part of you, isn’t it?”

Dayne wasn’t sure. He remembered being the man that Crenaxin turned him into, wanting to serve the Brotherhood, fulfill their destiny through the tap and becoming grand, worthy vessels of the Nine. He had no desire for those things now, no secret wish to be back to being that man. But still, the memory was there with him.

“There’s going to be anger,” Asti said. “I don’t know if that’ll help, but I use it.”

They came upon a closed gate. When they came before, Crenaxin called to the faithful, who opened it from somewhere else. But there were no controls here. “Maybe I can—” Dayne grabbed hold of the bars, straining to pull it open. The steel bars didn’t budge. “I can’t get through here.”

“Fortunately, I’m much smaller,” Asti said. He climbed up the gate to an opening on the top and squeezed his small frame through it. He pointed down the hallway, to the several sets of doors. “All kids? Any guards?”

“There were faithful . . . zealots in those two rooms,” Dayne whispered, pointing to the first two. “Then the children chained up in the next two.”

Asti nodded. “Like I said, there’s going to be anger. And I use it.”

“Asti,” Dayne didn’t want to yell. “What are you going to do?”

Asti went to the first door, placing his hand on it, and then listened at it for a moment. He stepped back for a moment, and then exploded with a violent kick that knocked the door open, drew out two knives, and jumped into the room.

The door slammed shut.

Sounds of a fight echoed through the hall. Blows and punches and shouts. The door on the other side of the hallway opened up and two men came out, looking confused, and two more in the doorway.

Dayne wanted to cry out, warn Asti, but before he could, the door flew open, one zealot falling out onto the floor. One of the men from the second room came over to him, to be greeted by a chair flying out of the first room, knocking him in the head.

Asti flew out right behind it, landing a punch, followed by a slash of his knife. Without even looking, Asti slammed one foot onto the chest of the man on the ground, and then shoved the man he was engaged with into the one behind him. They both went down, but Asti didn’t even stop. Two slashes of his knife, he put them both down, moaning and bleeding, as he pivoted into the two standing in the doorway.

It was horrifying and beautiful, watching Asti fight. It was the most visceral, violent, ruthless he had ever seen a man be. Animalistic. But at the same time, it had the purity of an animal, a wildcat with its prey.

The other men took their shots, landing blows on Asti, but it was like the man didn’t even care. He accepted their punches, taking the opportunity to land two back, slice open their bellies.

As he made quick work of the last men in the second room, one stumbled out of the first room, blood pouring out of his throat and belly and he fruitlessly tried to hold it in. He made it three steps before he fell.

Then quiet.

Then the sound of a wheel being turned, and the gate opened.

Dayne wasn’t sure if he could take a step forward.

Asti stumbled out, blood on his face and hands, his eyes sparked with madness and joy. Keys in his hand.

He went to other doors and opened them.

“Free, free!” he shouted, dropping to his knees. “All free!”

Then he started laughing. He laughed as Dayne approached, and as he let Dayne take the keys, his laughter turned to tears. Dayne glanced in the cells. Each of them had at least ten children, maybe more, shackled to the walls.

“All free,” Asti said, staring at his hands. “A gift from God.”

“Come on, Rynax,” Dayne said. “Let’s get these children out of here.”

Asti nodded, getting to his feet. In a moment, he had regained his composure. “Right. Job’s not done.”

“Gentlemen,” the Thorn said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You’re all out of bed after curfew, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to issue demerits.”

Jerinne had thought him absurdly cocky, to the point of annoyance, but she had to admit the Thorn knew how to stage a distraction. All the attention was on him, and with the machine chamber half filled with smoke, none of the zealots of the Brotherhood of the Nine were going to be noticing her slipping around the edge of the wall.

The Thorn moved like a rabbit, knocking the zealots with his staff, never still for a second. Even still, she knew he couldn’t hold his own against all of them for long. Time to do her job.

She rushed through the smoke, shield first, toward Lin. Free Lin first—her magic made her an asset in the fight. Then Welling, then up on the platform for Maresh. She charged through, knocking zealots out of her way. Almost to Lin.

The Thorn leaped high, landing in the mouth of one of the high overlook tunnels. From that vantage, he loosed more arrows into the crowd.

“You pest!” Senek shouted. “I will eat your liver!”

“Promises, promises,” Thorn said. “Come have a taste.”

Jerinne pushed through, reaching Lin, clocking her guard with the shield. She grabbed Lin’s shoulder, and at first Lin swung her shackled fists at Jerinne.

“Lin,” she said, grabbing her arm mid-swing. “It’s me.”

“Get Maresh,” Lin said. She held up her shackled hands. “I’m useless.”

“Got to get you out, too.”

“Maresh, please!” Lin cried. “Look!”

Jerinne looked up on the machine, to Maresh on the platform.

“Sweet merciful saints,” she whispered.

Maresh’s body had been twisted. Half his face green and scaled. One arm the size of the rest of his body. His back bent at an impossible angle.

Crenaxin was climbing up the machine to the platform. To Maresh.

“Come on,” Jerinne said, pulling Lin along. She had to get to him, no matter what.

Crenaxin reached the top, and casually yanked Maresh out of his shackles, then pushed him off the platform to fall to the floor.

“Maresh!” Jerinne screamed.

But the Thorn was there. He had flung out his rope, and wrapped it around Maresh midair, pulling him up to the tunnel.

“Enough!” Senek shouted. A blast of magic flew out around him, and the smoke all cleared. The zealots and monsters were all around Jerinne, drawing weapons. Closest of all was Gurond, the towering giant, though he looked dazed and groggy.

“This is the time!” Crenaxin shouted, now standing tall on the top of the platform. “We are ready to tap open our power! Make me your worthy vessel! Bow down before the High Dragon!”

The words slammed through Jerinne’s bones, and it took all her will to stay upright. Everyone else—the zealots, the monsters, Senek, even Lin—dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves toward the machine.

“We are ready for the blessings of the Nine! We are ready to tap into their power. We are ready for a bright new day!”

Jerinne moved toward Minox, forcing herself with every step. Her whole body wanted to obey Crenaxin.

“Begin, Senek! Begin!”

Senek stood and the whole machine began to move again. All the wheels, rings, and gimbals spun, whirling around the outside, faster and faster. Too fast for Jerinne to see. The spinning rings were right over Minox, but there was a narrow path to get to him. None to get to the men in the cages.

Men.

Those were children before, but now they were men, looking Dayne’s age. How was that even possible? What was this machine doing to them? What was it about to do?

Something shifted, and Jerinne could move again. She pushed forward, shield above her head, under the spinning rings that threatened to slice her to oblivion. More than once sparks flew as they scraped the shield.

“Can you move?” she asked Minox.

He nodded. “But I cannot extract myself from this infernal device.”

Jerinne grabbed hold of his waist and tried to pull him. His hand wouldn’t budge from the machine.

“Worthy vessels!” Senek shouted.

“Worthy vessels!”

Blue and purple lightning sparked all over the chamber. Jerinne looked up and saw that it surrounded Crenaxin, surrounded the old men in the cages. The entire room, as the lightning struck all the grotesques as well.

The Thorn appeared behind Jerinne. “I’ve got your friends secured away in the tunnel. We need to move.”

“He can’t!” Jerinne said.

“Leave me,” Minox said. “Maybe I can—”

“Not an option,” the Thorn said. He touched Minox’s wrist and furrowed his brow. “Come on!” Then he yanked his hand away, like he had been burned.

The lightning sparked and popped all around, forming chains of fire between each of the grotesques. All of their bodies began to shift and change. Lightning sparked back to the machine, knocking Jerinne’s shield.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Thorn said. His rope coiled around Jerinne, up to her shield, and back down around Minox. “Hold on.”

“What are you—”

“This might get uncomfortable.”

A green and red nimbus surrounded the three of them, as the purple and blue lightning exploded in fire, but none of it touched them. The light of it all was blinding, and the Thorn and Minox both screamed.

Then in a flash, it stopped.

Jerinne looked to Minox, whose hand was free of the machine. Both he and the Thorn were breathing hard, but the Thorn had a smile on his face. Then he looked past Jerinne and his face fell.

“We need to move quickly.”

Jerinne turned and saw. The grotesques were no longer misshapen abominations. All of them had become beasts similar to Gurond—monstrosities with wide jaws, spiky skin, and clawed hands. All of them looked up and howled.

“Worthy! Worthy! Fuel for the fire!”

Jerinne lowered her shield and raised her sword. She would get these two out of here.

Whatever it took.

“Come on, come on,” Dayne told the kids as they moved through the dark tunnel. “We have to hurry.”

“Where you taking us?” one of the kids whined.

“Why should we go with you?”

Dayne remembered the Thorn’s inspiration to get the young baron to move. “Tomorrow is Terrentin. We need to get you home so Saint Terrence can find you.”

“He never finds me,” one kid said.

“I’ve never gotten a Terrentin present,” said another.

“You’re definitely getting one now,” Asti said. “We’re getting you out of there, getting you safe, and hopefully getting you home.”

“I ain’t got a home,” one of them said.

“We can’t trust these guys,” another said.

“Yeah, we can,” one kid said. “That’s Mister Rynax. He’s a tough bastard, but he’s a good guy.”

“Telly?” Asti asked. “That you?”

That kid stepped forward. “Yeah.”

“Tarvis sent me to find you,” Asti said. “All of you.”

“Tarvis is all right?”

“He’s up at Kimber’s,” Asti said.

“Let’s get you all there,” Dayne said. “Bet she’s got a Terrentin Eve feast planned. You all are hungry, right?”

“Starved,” Telly said.

“Then let’s move,” he said. He could hear echoes of thunder, deep booms of power and magic raging in the distance. He wanted to turn back, help Jerinne and the Thorn, but the kids were his charge right now. Trust in them. Protect the children.

Asti took the point, finding the path he had marked on his way in. He led with quiet confidence, an odd calm, despite the blood on his face and hands. Dayne took the rear, expecting a rush of zealots, or even Gurond, coming to reclaim the stolen children.

“Someone’s ahead,” Asti said. “I’ll take him down.”

“Wait,” Dayne said. He moved a little ahead, calling out, “Drop any weapons you have, you’ll be treated fair.”

“Dayne?” a voice called back in the darkness.

“Hemmit?” Dayne called back.

Hemmit came up to them, looking exhausted and haggard. “Thank every saint you’re all right!” he said.

“Alive and uninjured,” Dayne said.

“And you found Rynax,” Hemmit said. “And the children!”

“Where’s the baron’s son?” Dayne asked.

“Safe at Kimber’s,” Hemmit said. “I got him there, and came back to help you all.”

“We’ve got to get these kids out of these tunnels,” Asti said. “You’re not lost, are you?”

“Not at all,” Hemmit said.

“Good,” Asti said. “Get these kids out, get them to Kimber’s. Tell her I’m on my way.”

“What are you going to do?” Dayne asked.

He tapped his head. “This part of my skull is screaming about going to the Dragon, and I can hear something awful happening back there. I bet the Thorn is in over his head. I’ll go pull him and the others out.”

Dayne nodded. Jerinne was there, and as good as she was, Dayne knew she wasn’t prepared for what was happening down here. She needed help. Maresh and Lin and Minox Welling—especially Minox Welling—needed help.

“Get them out, Hemmit,” Dayne said. “Tell them a story about Terrentin.”

“Got it,” Hemmit said. “Come along, all. We’re going to be free and rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!”

“Let’s go, Dayne,” Asti said. “Time to be a hero.”

Dayne didn’t know about that. He certainly didn’t think he deserved such a title. But people needed help. If what he understood about that machine and Crenaxin’s intentions was correct, and the Brotherhood wasn’t stopped, the whole city would need it as well.