Flame's Shadow

by Anna Eluvae

  "Image," said Nemm. "They're projecting a scene." She was looking around the city as well, scanning the tops of the buildings. "Same as any illustrati. But the purpose here is not the accumulation of power, only its retention."

  "To what end though?" asked Dravus.

  "They don't have enough iron," said Lexari. "They're not building more of these monstrosities because they can't. It bodes poorly for the Iron King's health, if that line of reasoning is sound."

  "The succession might already be happening," said Wenaru. "Worse, it might already be over, without any fanfare."

  This was met with a still silence that let sounds of the city be heard. Dravus wondered whether the spies that were surely following them would report this back to their masters. If the Iron King had died some time ago, his death had not been announced to the world. While he was a large and imposing figure in the politics of the world, he rarely left Castle Launtine even before his supposed illness, only taking trips every few weeks to look in on his kingdom. He otherwise invited people to his castle if they had business with him, which kept him somewhat divorced from the city of Parance. Dravus tried to think of all the people who would have to be in on such a deception for it to work — there were courtiers, messengers, ministers, and all manner of men and women who would deal with the Iron King on a daily basis. Some of them could be deflected by the excuse of sickness, but there were limits on how long that could last.

  The bottom floor of the Ministry of Legends was an open, cavernous room, filled with a variety of people gathered together in clusters. A number of them wore red waistcoats with black sashes across them, which Dravus took to be a uniform of some sort.

  "This is where the business of illustrati is conducted in the Iron Kingdom," Nemm said to Dravus in a low voice. "It works less well than they would like you to believe. You can organize the telling of stories, or outlaw tales about certain people, but in large part you're trying to regulate how people think. It's a basic fact of history that people often think in inconvenient ways."

  Genthric had its own laws to similar effect, but there it was widely agreed that no one should take those laws seriously. Genthric was also rife with corruption among the guard, not to mention the senatori, so perhaps this was a matter of more general problems with the city. As Lexari spoke with two men in red behind a large desk, Dravus's eyes wandered the open area. What was the purpose of all these uniformed men? Presumably they each had some role to play, yet Dravus couldn't imagine that this was the most efficient way of creating and maintaining illustrati.

  Dravus followed behind as they were guided to a small room off the side of the open reception area. One of the uniformed men spoke briefly into a horn mounted on the wall, then gestured into the small room. When the four illustrati were in, a metal door was drawn shut, locking them within. Dravus gave a start when the floor beneath him started to move.

  "It's called an ascending room," said Nemm. She was watching him with a smile. "We're being pulled up by a winch."

  "Clever," said Dravus. He felt unsteady. The tenor of the air was changing as they rose, but the walls of the ascending room made it impossible to tell how fast they were moving. "Is it safe?"

  "You're an illustrati," said Lexari. "I survived a fall from above the clouds."

  "With broken bones," said Wenaru. "Bones which are not yet fully mended."

  "So is it safe?" asked Dravus. He had started thickening his armor of shadow and forced himself to stop. No one else seemed concerned with the possibility of the ascending room making a rapid descent.

  "Safe enough," said Nemm. "It's used every day by hundreds if not thousands of people."

  The climb continued for far longer than Dravus felt it should. He couldn't tell whether the sensation of swaying was his imagination, or whether the air had actually gotten thinner. The building that housed the Ministry of Legends didn't reach the height of even a small mountain, but Dravus felt light-headed all the same.

  When the ascending room finally came to a sudden, jerking stop, the door to it opened to reveal another of the ubiquitous uniformed men, standing there waiting for them. He led them down a long hallway, then another much shorter one, to the office of Jacques Fabben, who was waiting for them behind a desk. Dravus was thankful that the room had no windows; he was spared the feeling of looking out over empty air, or being fully aware of their extreme height. He settled into his seat and tried his best to pretend that they were on the ground floor.

  "A small office for one with such a senior position within his Ministry," said Nemm.

  "I apologize for the lack of amenities, your Majesty," said Jacques. "There are renovations being done on the floor above, so for the time being, this is where I must do my business."

  "You have records for us to look through?" asked Lexari.

  "Yes, of course," said Jacques slowly. He fumbled at one of his desk drawers for a moment before pulling out a sheaf of papers.

  "I note that this temporary office has no windows," said Nemm. "Curious that they weren't able to find you a better place, isn't it?"

  "I didn't want to inconvenience anyone," said Jacques. He leaned forward, over his desk. "Now, the illustrati we've lost track of worked primarily in the mills, though there a number of more independent illustrati —"

  Nemm stood up from her seat. She drew her armor up over her as she moved, adding on glass until it was more thick and protective. She moved to the room's single door, inspected the knob for a moment, then tried to open it. When it didn't open, Dravus stood up as well, pulling up more armor and making a sword appear in his hand.

  "I was given to understand we could leave at any time?" Lexari said to Jacques. His tone was even; it almost seemed like he was enjoying himself. "I do find it curious that this small, temporary office would have a lock from the inside."

  Nemm drew back a fist, coated it so throughly in glass that it resembled a sledgehammer, then slammed it into the door. This was met with a resounding clank of metal. Pieces of the door fell away, revealing a thick slab of iron where the wood had been covering it; Nemm's attack hadn't even dented it.

  "I'm sorry," said Jacques. There was sorrow in his voice. "He asked it of me, and I could not resist him."

  "Who?" asked Lexari.

  "We need to get out of here," said Dravus. "We need to break through the walls, or —"

  Nemm whirred around the room, with her daggers trailing behind her. She left marks on the walls, deep enough to cut through layers of paper, plaster, and paneling. When Nemm had cut to the metal on each wall, she began on the floor and ceiling as well, raining plaster down on them.

  "Who?" asked Lexari again. "Who is your master?"

  "The Iron King," said Jacques, in nearly a whisper.

  "We need to get out of here," said Nemm. "Now."

  "How?" asked Dravus. He had his sword of shadow at the ready, for all the good that would do. "How thick are these walls?"

  "Too thick," said Nemm. She spat on the ground and spun her daggers in her hands. "I can punch through steel plating, but solid iron a few feet thick …" she shook her head. "Everyone, hold your breath."

  Dravus barely had time to take a deep gulp of air while Nemm formed a sphere of glass in her hand. The sphere crumbled to a fine dust, which Nemm began to liberally spread into the air. She screwed her eyes closed, allowing the full use of her domain sense.

  "They're sucking the air out of the room," said Nemm. She dashed over to a small bit of paneling and ripped it from the wall, then quickly formed a stopper of glass. "That should buy us some time."

  "Not poison?" asked Dravus.

  "They want our power," said Lexari. He still hadn't budged from his seat. His eyes were firmly on Jacques. "We've come to the heart of the matter. The Minister of Legends has turned against us, which means that we now count the Iron Kingdom as an enemy."

  "That does us no good unless we escape from here," said Nemm. She moved towards Jacques with daggers drawn. "Tell me the plan."

 
"I do not know," said Jacques. "I was told only to bring you to this room and keep you here." He looked between the four of them. "He did not say it was a trap."

  "Yet you knew," said Lexari.

  "A person breathes two gallons of air every minute," said Wenaru. "I am in agreement with Nemm that our situation is dire, especially given that an unknown quantity of breathable air has already been removed."

  Nemm advanced on Jacques again. "Tell me how we escape."

  "There is no escape," said Jacques. "There would not be, for the Iron King to have done something so brazen."

  Nemm's dagger flashed forward and slit the minister's throat.

  "Nemm!" shouted Lexari.

  "He was breathing our air," Nemm replied. "I've given us an extension on life." She turned to survey the room, oblivious to the blood on her dagger or the slight choking sounds as the minister pawed at the wound in his neck. "We need to find a weak point and break through there. If I made a large enough lens for you to focus light through?"

  "We would cook before we began to melt the iron," said Lexari. He stood from his seat and spared only a glance at the minister's body. Dravus recalled what Nemm had said some days before; there were certain things that Lexari needed to have done but — whether for his image or his internal beliefs about himself — could not do himself, or even ask.

  They moved around the room trying to find a way to break out, but the metal was thick enough that it seemed impossible. Each punch or hammer blow brought another loud clang that echoed around the room, destroying more of the dressing that had marked it as an office on first glance. They could make dents in the metal, but there was nothing to grip onto to tear into it, even with implements forged of light and shadow. Nemm briefly removed the stopper she'd placed in the vent, but that did nothing but confirm that someone was sucking air from the room, fast enough that it created a noticeable breeze.

  "If we run and jump," said Nemm. "All at once, towards a single side of the room, we might be able to knock this cage loose from its moorings. The rest of the building will only be a skeleton of iron, not so solid."

  "And then what?" asked Lexari. "We cause this room to tumble hundreds of feet to the ground?" He shook his head. "It won't work."

  "Then we die here," said Nemm. She had the same manic intensity that Dravus had seen on her face when her life was on the line, she held her daggers tight in her hands, even though both of them were useless in the current situation.

  Dravus tried to think of everything at their disposal, some weapon or tool that they'd been overlooking. The construction of the room emphasized the solid, with walls that were at least three thick feet of pure iron. They were all strong, but not quite so strong that they could punch through it. And when it was impossible to break through an obstacle, better to avoid it altogether.

  "Your constructs of light can move through metal," said Dravus. He looked at Lexari. "When you were fighting Zerstor, your spears passed straight through his armor. It's a technique at your disposal."

  "It does no good," said Lexari. "When they pass through, they do no damage."

  "No," said Dravus. His breathing had already become labored. "But you can turn yourself into light. You became this luminous being and his sword passed straight through your midsection." Dravus looked toward the iron door, which was at least as thick as the wall and so far as they could tell, slotted into the plate of iron that made up the floor. "You should be able to run straight through the wall."

  Lexari frowned. For a moment, Dravus thought that he would deny the ability altogether. Instead the illustrati of light replied with a soft voice. "You don't know what you're asking of me."

  "It takes effort, I know that," said Dravus. Nemm was continuing to bang away at the walls, oblivious to the conversation.

  "More than that," said Lexari. "It takes a loss of self. A moment of no longer being human."

  Wenaru stepped forward. "And is that so high a price to pay, in order to save us?"

  Lexari didn't answer. Instead, he squared himself up and turned towards the flat metal of the door. There was no countdown or warning, only a simple sprint from one of the fastest people in the world. At the moment he made contact, he became so bright that Dravus was momentarily blinded, even though he'd known that it was coming. When he blinked away the stars in his eyes, Lexari was gone.

  * * *

  Lexari came out the other side, reconstituted by some alchemy he did not understand. He was riddled with fear, as he had been the three times he'd used the technique before. Was he the same man he'd been before? Were his thoughts his own, or were they now mixed with the imaginings of his domain? He had only a few seconds of heavy breathing and clutching at his heart before the man standing in front of him came out of the daze. The man held a sword up in a defensive position, but it was short work to slide a spear past it. The first opponent fell to the ground just as the others rounded the corner; these were illustrati and would not be so easily dispatched. Lexari welcomed the fight, the better to let his mind move away from squirming, uncomfortable thoughts. He turned his armor bright enough that it would be blinding and moved forward with spear spinning in his hand.

  Both the illustrati were clad in their domains. It was a weakness of the illustrati that they gave such a tactical advantage to their enemies by revealing themselves so; in his early years, Lexari had gone as long as he could before revealing his domain as light, or even revealing that he was an illustrati at all. He had dressed in a simple soldier's uniform, or something that befit a caravan guard. Only when the moment was right would he give up the advantage of anonymity. He had become a hero by leaving those ways behind, by shining forth like a beacon, yet there was still a pang of regret at times, knowing that the way of the hero was difficult.

  The two illustrati he now faced had no clever ideas about hiding their natures. The one on the left wore blue and yellow, with jagged bolts of lightning embroidered into the cloth of his coat. If that were not enough, a circlet of electricity sat upon his head. Lightning was an erratic domain, difficult to control and hard to understand even to those who claimed it as their own. The illustrati of lightning would stay towards the back, trying to throw thick bolts from a distance. Up close, he would channel the lightning directly through his hands. He would be hampered the most by blindness. The one on the right had armor of ice nearly encasing him, which was growing thicker by the moment. A chill had already started to seep into the hallway, along with a few generated flurries that would let the illustrati see even when his eyes failed him.

  Lexari darted forward, aiming for the left. He made a lunge to the right to mimic a feint, but released his spear to the left. It struck the illustrati in the arm, which produced a cry of pain. Lexari met with the illustrati of ice soon after, another spear freshly made in his hands. He was stronger and faster than either of these men could possibly be; these days, as his body had aged, this was how he'd won most of his fights. The illustrati of ice dodged away from the spear thrusts, driving him backwards. When Lexari saw a spot of snow land upon his spear, he dismissed it and summoned a new one; there were still bits of ice on him and a creeping cold in the air, but it was difficult if not impossible to judge the position of a weapon merely by seeing two points on the hand that held it. Lexari kept his armor as bright as possible, though it gave him no true impediments.

  The illustrati of lightning was the first to die. Lexari stabbed him in the stomach with a spear after an errant bolt of lightning slammed against the iron door. As soon as the spear was dismissed, blood began to spurt out in great quantity. It would take some time for the man to die, but he would be in shock soon enough. A second spear through the chest ensured his death. Lexari narrowly dodged to the side as an ax of ice came swinging down, but this put the second illustrati far too close. Lexari slammed his fist forward to catch him on the chin, shattering armor of ice in the process. That put the illustrati off his footing enough that it was easy to sink a spear past his armor and into his heart.

&
nbsp; Lexari was left breathing heavily in the hallway, more from the lack of oxygen inside the prison than any real exertion. He tried to clear his head and think about his goals; he needed to find a way to open the death trap back up. He slipped forward with a spear in either hand, trying his best not to remember how he'd escaped.

  * * *

  "There's no guarantee that he'll find a way to release us," said Nemm. She had given up on attacking the iron walls. Now she was slumped down in one of the chairs, trying to keep her breathing slow and even.

  "We don't even know if he made it through," said Wenaru. "He might have been trapped inside the wall itself."

  "We have no choice but to wait for rescue," said Dravus. "We should try to conserve our air."

  Dravus tried to limit his breaths. It was difficult, because each breath seemed to do less than the one before it. There was a vague sense of panic at the back of his mind. He kept half an eye on Nemm, remembering the way she'd slit the minister's throat even before they'd started to feel the effects of suffocation. He didn't think that she would try to kill them to prolong her own life, but the casual violence had shocked him. Early in the morning they'd talked about her reputation and the truth of the stories that were told about her. She hadn't remarked on all the men she'd killed in her time, but it was clear that this was part of what she'd meant when she said that most of her reputation was earned.