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Blurred Weaponry (Saints of the Void, Book 1)

Page 20

by Michael Valdez


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  The water in the Wax Room reached the middle of Dastou’s thighs as he was wrapping three of those forearm-length metal bars together. To keep them bound, he was using some blue-tinted, ridiculously strong adhesive tape he found. The fact that it was still usable was almost as impressive as how well it kept the bars together. Dastou added a piece of rounded metal to one end of the bars, taped it on, and was satisfied with his new club.

  He put the taped-together tool in an impromptu sheath that some would refer to as his belt and took his knife out from the other side of that same magnificent holding device. Dastou slogged his way to the middle of the display wall and pushed the large case to the side, toppling it into the water with a clatter of porcelain and glass breaking or chipping before splashing. He stared at the wall and sought the most rotted away seams in the stone brick construction. He found a spot that looked promisingly dilapidated at about chest level and began to carve away.

  Dastou used the knife to scrape away old mortar and had to switch hands regularly from fatigue. He used long drags to gouge out mortar around several bricks, creating a weakened section for him to target later. The water was rising just fast enough for him to notice it, and it was a little eerie to be perfectly honest; like liquid hands moving up his legs, chilling him on the way up. As he carved, he thought about the complexity of the fire suppression system that Citizen Vaiss activated.

  It was very Saint-like in its use of the surroundings, including whatever underground river supplied the water. The system also hid its components in plain sight, a tendency he shared with many of his kind when they were still alive. Dastou tried to make some kind of connection as he removed grout, trying to figure out if this place was the secret sanctuary of one Saint or another, maybe something more peculiar. Unfortunately, the age of this place would mean that it would have to have been someone who had the same abilities and habits as one of his kind before the first one was ever born, or at least before the first one was reported to have been born. Could there have been more than the known generations in secret, a society that people lost track of?

  He stopped thinking about the past when the water reached three-quarters of the way up his thigh and the mortar around a handful of bricks had been worked down a few millimeters. Dastou’s forearms and wrists burned from how fast he got that much removed. The water was still a ways from reaching the ceiling, but the next phase of his plan would change that dramatically.

  The Saint put the knife away, grabbed the club, and looked at the hole in the ceramic pipe where the spigot used to be. He sighed, shook his head, and started swimming to the other side of the room to reach the opening.

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