by Aaron Frale
A few elite guards on the platform hoisted the boy up into the air. They walked over to the pit and dangled him over it. The boy cried out, “No, please—no—no!”
They let go, and he plummeted into the depths below. His screams ended abruptly, and a plume of fire erupted from the pit. The crowd went wild with shouts and cheers. The High Priest calmed them down after a while and performed the ritual again for the others that were captured by the cultists. The ones who could move under the intense gravity were spared, and those who could not were tossed into the lava below. Each person who was able to walk across the stage, even if it was just about the only thing they could do, was given praise and told they had been blessed with the warrior’s destiny. The High Priest then carved a single star into their foreheads. It was the same scar Jon had seen on just about every cultist, including the one who had been in hiding in his own universe.
The process made Jon sick to his stomach. His heart sank when he realized that Hailey had no hope and had probably already been tossed into the flames.
Jon turned away, and Patel grabbed his shoulder and pointed towards the stage. The High Priest raised his hands to the crowd. He presented the surviving batch of captured teens. Even though the kids were spared the pit of eternal fire, they still had desperation in their eyes. The cultists below screamed, jeered, and hollered. The fights that broke out got more intense. It was chaos. The High Priest lowered his hands to silence the crowd, and they settled down.
“While many of the blessed chosen will become proud warriors who fight and die for the purification of all universes, we must see if any of today’s brethren have been chosen for the priesthood. We must know if any of today’s holy army will ascend to hear the Eternal Flame. The song of the Flame is eternal. May all be cleansed in its light!”
The audience chanted. “The song of the Flame! The song of the Flame! The song of the Flame!”
A man in a hood who had sockets for eyes, six stars on his head, and a mutilated lip line to reveal his teeth walked out with a tray made from bone. On the shelf was a device that looked almost like a Walkman to Jon. It wasn’t smooth and sleek like the Tuning Forks but clunky and old. It had a pair of headphones on it.
“What’s that?” Jon whispered.
“It’s one of the first Tuning Forks, a TF1, I think,” Meathook responded. “It comes directly from Universe One, and there aren’t any known to have survived, though it’s still in the tech archives back at HQ.”
Patel shushed them, and they continued to watch the ritual.
The High Priest put the headphones on the first surviving candidate. He said to the kid, “Do you hear the song of the Eternal Flame?”
The boy crinkled his face and listened carefully. He looked nervously at the lava pit below and then said, “I—um—hear music—”
“He does not hear the song of the Eternal Flame! He has been chosen to fight and die. Let this be his first day as a warrior. Rodar’s clan will break his will and teach him the ways.”
A small group of men and women went wild in the audience. A man with five star scars on his forehead and even more scars than the others in his group, presumably Rodar, climbed the stairs leading to the stage and dragged his recruit into his clan. The members initiated the boy by kicking him in the chest until he was unable to stand.
The High Priest went down the line asking the captured boys and girls if they heard the “song of the Eternal Flame.” Jon knew that he was checking to see if they could tune. There might yet be hope for Hailey as the ability to tune seemed to be coveted by the cultists.
One by one, the group tried on the headphones, and when they failed to describe the sound of alternate universes, they were divided among the various clans. John noticed right away that each group seemed to have a weapon of choice. Some had gnarled swords. Others had bows with arrows covered in a green substance. Jon even saw the ones with blades that ejected from arms like Jon had first encountered. The arm blade clan was particularly stoic, and when a recruit came into the fold, they installed one of the blades on the spot without any attempt to dull the pain. The clan leaders each had five stars etched into their heads. It looked as if only the priests could go as high as six or seven.
Each clan also seemed to have a different initiation ritual for the new recruits that the High Priest was doling out. Some would burn the new members. Others would pour a foul liquid down their throats. One female leader cut off the pinky finger of the recruit, and from the looks of it, the fingers were made into jewelry for those who earned more scars.
It was a perverse system, and Jon couldn’t watch anymore. He was about to suggest they disappear when the last one, a dainty girl of no more than thirteen who barely made it across the stage, described the noise accurately.
“I hear a static, like a radio tuned to a dead dial.” Her voice trembled. “It’s like white noise, but there are so many different tones and qualities to it. It’s hard to describe.”
The High Priest smiled and said, “What is your name, my child?”
“Magdalena.”
He turned to the audience and declared, “Magdalena has heard the song of the Eternal Flame! She will be a priestess of the Flame! May her light shine through all eternity.”
“All hail Magdalena!” the warriors cried and knelt. “All hail Magdalena!”
The rest of the priesthood lifted her up and paraded her across the stage. They set her back down, and the High Priest cut his own arm and dripped blood on Magdalena’s face. Tears streamed down from her eyes. The High Priest used the blood to draw a wicked rune on her face. Afterward, he cut her arm in the same place and used the blood to draw another rune.
Two priests turned a crank and a chain raised from the pit while the girl was being decorated in blood. At the end of the chain was a rod that was glowing red. The High Priest grabbed the rod when it got to his level, and his hand sizzled. He turned towards the girl and called out, “The Eternal Flame baptizes you in blood and welcomes you with fire. All hail the Flame! All hail the Flame!”
The crowd chanted, “ALL HAIL THE FLAME! ALL HAIL THE FLAME.”
The priest leaned in with the glowing rod, and Jon turned away. The Tuners retreated into the hall. The girl screamed, and the chants rose to a crescendo.
“Do you think Hailey—” Meathook said when they were out of earshot, not that anyone would hear them over the commotion in the room.
“No,” Jon said.
“We all know you and Hailey are a thing, but you have to face the possibility—” Patel said.
“It’s more than that,” Jon said. He never heard it phrased as them being a ‘thing’ before, and it sent butterflies into his stomach. However, he didn’t have time to process his feelings for her. She was a Tuner in trouble. He’d fight just as hard for any of them. “We don’t even know if they put her through that ritual. She’s a Tuner, probably one of a few people who is a real threat to them. I don’t think they would treat her like some kid they abducted from a mall. Tuners don’t leave their friends to die. If there is a chance, even a small chance, we have to find her.”
“I do not disagree with you,” Patel said. “But there was an army in there!”
“We have invisibility cloaks,” Jon said. “Maybe we should find out where they are taking that Magdalena girl. There’s a good chance Hailey may be there too.”
“Ludie said the armor would tear the cloaks if we tried to wear them over it, and wearing them under it will not do any good. You would have known this if you had stayed to learn about the suits,” Patel said.
“Yeah, bro,” Meathook said. “I’d think they’d notice a couple of exoskeletons walking around. Hey, where is Ludie anyway?”
They searched up and down the hallway and called out his name in a whisper-yell. They looked around the spot where they were viewing the ritual.
“There is no sign of a struggle,” Patel said.
“Yeah, bro,” Meathook said. “I could have sworn he was right behind me when we go
t out of that room. Do you think one of the cultists snagged him?”
“It’s possible. He also might have got scared and tuned back to base. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. He is not the warrior type,” Jon said. “Either way, our best bet to find both of them is finding out where they took Magdalena.”
“Yeah, but how are we going to do that?” Just as Meathook spoke, three cultist priests rounded the corner. They had long robes and hoods that covered their face. Meathook pulled out his hammer. “Nevermind; I think I figured it out.”
Patel and John readied their weapons.
30
Jon and the rest of the crew donned the robes of the cultist priests. They left the three incapacitated people in the room with all the mutilation equipment. By the time they were finished changing, the crowd had begun going their separate ways in the ceremonial room down the passage. The Tuners ventured out into the hallway.
The other cultists parted ways for them as they walked through the mass exiting the ceremonial hall. Most of the people leaving were warriors. The conversations of the various clan members fell silent when the Tuners walked by. The cultists bowed their heads and backed up against the wall. Jon sunk further back in his hood enough so the warriors would not noticed the lack of scars on his face.
They got to the room with the fire pit and the stage as the last of the crowd was clearing out. Thankfully, the High Priest was gone. Jon doubted their disguises would have fooled him. They made their way across the room. There were a couple entrances where the priests could have left with the new recruit.
They noticed a lone priest was still up on the stage, packing up after the ceremony. Jon pointed towards the platform, and the others nodded. The man gathered the collars while the Tuners climbed the steps towards him. His head was exposed, and Jon noticed there was only one star, and he wasn’t much older than Jon. By the time they got to the top, the rest of the room was clear.
Jon nodded to Meathook, and before the priest even knew what was happening, the unfortunate soul was being dangled over the lava pit. Patel stood as a lookout. Jon leaned over and said, “Where did they take the girl? Or should I just have my friend here let you go?”
“All new recruits are taken to the Pit of Isolation and Despair,” the priest said.
“The what?”
“They deprive you of food and natural light. It cleans your soul to accept the Flame.”
“Sounds like torture to me.”
“It is a glorious awakening. I did not see the true power of the Flame until I shed my former life.”
“Blah blah blah! What direction is it?”
The priest pointed to a tunnel leading from the room. Jon nodded to Meathook, and they clunked him aside the head. They stuffed him inside the cart he was using to gather the collars. Patel came over and said, “You know, we can save him. He was probably coerced into servitude like the others. There is a clinic in Universe 73d that specializes in cult rehabilitation—”
“Let’s focus on finding our friends before we start saving the world,” Jon said, and they darted off towards the direction where Magdalena was taken.
After a while, they caught up with a priest who was leading the quivering and shaking girl lower and lower into the earth.
Jon stopped the priest and said, “We have orders to take her from here.”
Up close, Jon could see the scarred chin of the person inside the robe. The priest could see Jon’s smooth face in the hood and was skeptical of the request. “Initiates are not allowed to break the will of other initiates. Or do you need another soul cleansing?”
“We were going to take her to—um—the other place—with the—” Jon said. His hand snaked down towards his weapon.
“The unclean?” The priest scoffed. “They are barely worthy of the filth we feed them. I will punish your insolence if you continue this.”
Jon opened his robe and revealed his crossbow underneath it. He pressed the weapon in the priest’s stomach. Patel and Meathook crowded around Jon, so anyone who happened to walk by wouldn’t see it.
“Take me to the unclean—” Jon said.
“The High Priest will flay me,” the cultist protested.
“I’ll kill you. How will you serve the Flame then?” Jon asked and pressed the crossbow harder.
The man didn’t say another word; he turned and led the way.
“You okay?” Jon asked Magdalena.
“I think so,” Magdalena.
“Good,” Jon said. “Come with us and we’ll get you out of here.
The group took a fork in the tunnel and made their way back up. They wove through the corridors of the castle. The various warriors and guards they passed stood at alert. It was to Jon’s advantage that none of them made eye contact with any of the priests. When a group of priests was walking the other direction, Jon pressed his weapon harder into the man’s back to remind him that all he needed to do was pull the trigger. They passed without incident.
The castle seemed to go on forever. It was much bigger than they had initially believed. There were many courtyards and levels. It was like a city that had been made of stone. The only vegetation that they saw were grim trees with black and twisted bark and leaves that were brownish-red. Eventually, they went back down below again into the tunnels underneath.
After what seemed like an endless trek through the corridors and passages, they came to a large wooden door where two guards stood on either side. They looked at the incoming group of priests, and a confused expression curled on their faces.
“Step aside!” the priest barked and opened the door.
Inside, the scene made Patel gasp. Jon felt sick. There were at least fifty teenagers. They were all strapped to tables. Large metal spikes protruded from their ears. They were connected to cables that led to a machine in the center of the room. It looked familiar, like the equipment in the command center at Tuners HQ. The victims squirmed as if they were in constant pain. Their eyes fluttered, and they mumbled and groaned. A black liquid pumped into each victim from at least a dozen long tubes per person that hung from the ceiling and protruded from their arms, legs, and back.
“What are you doing to them?” Jon asked.
The priest scowled. “When their bones are too weak to serve in the priesthood, they can still spread the holy word of the Flame.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jon asked.
“I think he means that any Tuners who cannot function in the gravity of this world are used to power this machine,” Patel said.
“But I thought they threw anyone who couldn’t pass the test in the lava?” Meathook said.
The priest laughed. “Do you think the High Priest would risk anyone who can hear the song of the Flame? They are tested for the gift long before the initiation ceremony. The unclean may be filth, but the song still sings to them, so they serve their purpose.”
“And what is the purpose of this machine?” Jon asked while he inspected the device. After passing a couple, he noticed one of the girls attached to it looked familiar. She resembled Hailey, but it wasn’t her. It dawned on him that she was Hailey’s sister. He remembered her from the photo on Hailey’s TF3. He reached out to pull the spikes from her ears.
“I would not do that! Death will take her!” the priest yelled.
Jon grabbed one of the tubes of the black goop. “At least we can stop filling her with this crap.”
“I would not do that either,” the priest said, “Or you will cleanse her with fire.”
The moaning and whining of the captives intensified. Jon let go, but the commotion continued. All the victims struggled against their bonds and cried out. The machine in the center ramped up. There was a loud hum that got increasingly louder. The people writhed and struggled.
“What’s happening?”
“The warriors are on the move.” The priest grinned. “This is why you cannot stop us. We have armies to spread the word.”
“Dude, bro. You’re really starting to annoy me,” Meathoo
k said and thwacked the cultist with the side of his hammer. The man went out cold.
Patel said, “This must be how the cultists are able to punch through the universe barrier and tune without finding a porous spot. This machine must be an amplifier for the tuning ability. It’s no wonder they were able to push so many people through at the same time.”
“I thought a Tuner could only bring about three people with them at maximum during a tune. You see, I didn’t sleep in every one of your classes,” Jon said, and Meathook laughed.
“They are networked,” Patel said.
“Like a bunch of computers? Does that even work?” Jon asked.
“Presumably,” Patel said. “There is a lot of stuff we don’t know. Universe One was advanced. More advanced than any universe we’ve encountered. Imagine you leave your phone with a solar charging station on a world with a bunch of prehistoric people barely out of the Stone Age. They might figure out how to play music from it. Even how to charge it. But will they ever be able to fix it? Invent new technology from it?”
“Okay, so it’s a big tuning amp. So, where’s Hailey?” Jon asked. “I don’t see her in here. You figure they would have put her in this device by now?”
Magdalena spoke up. “I overheard two of them talking while we were waiting for the ritual. They are trying to boost the power of something else, a prototype, and they found someone special. I don’t know. I just want to go home. Can you take me home?”
“We’ll try,” Jon said softly. “Do you know where that other machine might be?”
“I think so. When they were testing our ability to hear the noise, we were in this room with all sorts of equipment. I saw a chair attached to a machine like the stuff here.”
Jon leaned down to Magdalena and said, “Hey, I know you want to go back to your home, but I need you to be strong for me for just a little while longer. We have a friend of ours we are trying to bring home. Do you think you can take us too that other machine?”
Magdalena said, “I can try.”
“Don’t worry, little sis.” Meathook brandished his weapon. “I’ll keep you safe. No one will get between you and my hammer of cultist pounding.”
