Quinn held her hand to her chest and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Me? Could you be referring to me?” Her hands went to her cheeks and her mocking intensified. “Oh, my. What did I ever do to deserve such a prince?”
Laughing, his hand covered her mouth as he held her close. “Quiet. You can stop, now.”
Her muffled voice came through his palm. “Fine. I’ll stop. But you had better move your hand before I bite it.”
With a yelp, he yanked his hand away. “You wouldn’t.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“Never mind.” He held out his elbow and she took it. “Come on. The sun is nearing the horizon, and we have scouting to do.”
Strolling at an easy pace, he led her toward the gate. Another wagon was approaching, this one fully loaded with a tarp covering whatever was in the back. Brandt noted that the driver was armed with a knife and had a crossbow on the seat beside him.
As the guards drew near the wagon, Brandt called out. “Alarm! He has a knife!”
The guards jerked to a halt and drew their weapons as they surrounded the wagon. Brandt pulled Quinn aside, out of the guards’ view and backed against the tower. The door beside him opened and four Imperial soldiers poured out, their backs to him as they ran toward the wagon.
“Now!” Brandt whispered as he darted into the open door with Quinn on his heels.
Like the tower outside, the room was rectangular. Two tables surrounded by chairs occupied the middle of the room. Chain mail, tabards, and helmets hung on one wall. A set of stairs leading upward stood at the far end of the room.
Brandt grabbed a chain mail cuirass and handed it to Quinn. “Put this on.”
She lifted it, frowning. “It’s lighter than it looks.”
He nodded and pulled it over his head, slipping his arms through. “I noticed. I wonder what they use to make it.”
The chain mail came down to their thighs, as did the white tabards they donned over it. They each then added a black leather belt with an Order rune on the buckle, matching the blue rune marking the tabards. Brandt then gave Quinn a helmet before sliding one over his head. When he turned toward her, he smiled.
“You look like one of them.”
“So do you, but isn’t that the point?”
“Yes.” He waved her to follow as he headed up the stairs.
“Where are we heading?” she asked, her voice coming from behind him.
“The top, of course.”
They climbed two stories, opened a door, and stepped onto the wall. With Quinn following, Brandt walked a couple hundred feet from the guard tower and stopped.
The sun hovered over the western horizon, reflecting off the blue water of the Sea of Fates. The land to the north was wooded with a seaside road heading toward the northwest. Inland about a mile was an area recently cleared of trees. The peaked roofs of buildings could be seen past the wooden palisades surrounding the area. Swirling pillars of smoke arose from inside the walls while guards patrolled the outside. At each corner of the palisades was a square turret standing higher than even the trees. Something was positioned on each turret. From the distance, Brandt couldn’t be sure, but he guessed that something might be a flash cannon.
“What do you think it is?” Quinn asked. “It’s almost the size of the city itself.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yes. That level of effort means it’s important.”
Quinn sighed as she gripped his hand. “I believe our holiday has come to an end.”
6
The Forge
With leather mitts protecting his hands and goggles to shield his eyes, Everson Gulagas gripped the crucible handle and lifted it from the hot coals. The liquid metal in the crucible wobbled as he turned and carefully poured shimmery bronze into eight castings. With the crucible empty, he set it aside, pulled the mitts from his hands, and removed the goggles from his sweat-covered face.
The air cooled as Everson walked away from the forge, a welcome relief after working in the heat for the past hour. He stopped beside a pair of workbenches, each occupied by a person focused on assembling bronze components into a ball-shaped object. Bronze panels, thin flint strips, and vials of dark powder sat on the work surfaces.
Master Benny Hedgewick sat at one table, completely fixated on his work. Over the past few weeks, Everson had grown more comfortable being around the man. Spending many hours a day with Benny had slowly whittled away the legendary inventor status Everson had held toward him. He now acknowledged Benny Hedgewick for who he was – an intelligent man with a good heart. The fact that Benny had invented things such as the Hedgewick Flyer and the original flash bomb still lingered in the back of Everson’s head, but it no longer made their conversations awkward.
Ivy Fluerian sat at the other table, focused on the meticulous assembly before her. She absently tucked her long, dark hair behind an ear and bit her lip, her gaze intense as she poured dark, sparkling powder into the device. After setting the vial of flash powder aside, she secured the last hexagonal piece, one of the eight that included an inlaid piece of flint. The piece snapped into place, completing the bomb. She set the eight-inch diameter ball into the padded basket beside her and sat back with a sigh.
Everson smiled when she turned toward him. “This is nerve-wracking work, isn’t it?”
Ivy nodded and wiped her forehead with her forearm. “The idea that one wrong move could blow us all up continues to cross my mind, again and again. I feel like I’ve aged three years since we began this process.”
“Yet, it’s only been one week.” He grinned.
Her brow furrowed. “Is that all?”
Benny finished the bomb he had been building and set it into a basket before turning toward Everson. “This process brings back memories of when Karl and I built the first flash bombs, almost two decades ago. We were nervous wrecks the entire time and that lasted only a few days.” He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. As often happened, the man’s rectangular spectacles were askew and made his head appear lop-sided. “Based on the flash powder remaining, we could be at this for another week or more. I’m not sure if my heart can handle the anxiety.”
“You don’t have to help, Master Hedgewick,” Everson said. “We can finish this work.”
“Pfft. Nonsense.” He stood and stretched. “If it comes to war, which appears to be the case, then this is the least I can do. It is about time we leaders join this fight. If the Empire wins, we all lose.”
The door to the forge opened, and Everson turned to see Cassilyn Talenz entering. She stopped, her gaze sweeping the massive room until it landed on him. Walking with purposeful strides, she crossed the room. The girl’s brown curls covered the shoulders of her gray dress, her green eyes locked on him.
“Hi, Everson,” Cassie said. “I suspected I would find you here.”
“You determined that all on your own?” he said with a grin. “Perhaps you should become an espion.”
Cassie stopped and frowned at him. “How droll. You sound like my brother with your sarcasm. I expected better from you, Everson.”
He glanced toward Ivy, his smile faltering. “Well, I…”
Cassie touched his arm. “Easy, Ev. I’m just joking.”
An exhale of relief came from Everson’s lips. He had been making an effort to be a bolder version of himself – to be more like his sister, Quinn. Years of shyness, and unusual politeness for someone his age, had derived from his disability. With the thought crossing his mind, Everson looked down at his metal-encased legs. Mechanical constructs made it possible for him to stand – devices powered by Chaos Conduction, his greatest discovery. Inside those contraptions were his scrawny, useless legs. Despite Everson’s brilliance and his impressive inventions, his disability had been a shadow over him most of his life. Harnessing Chaos energy, along with a fair bit of ingenuity, had changed that.
“Ev?” Cassie asked.
He looked up, blinking when he met her eyes. “Yes.”
Cassie smiled, mirth
reflecting in her green eyes. “I thought I lost you, there.”
Ivy laughed. “It’s not you, Cassie. He does the same thing with me. Issal only knows where his mind might take him next.”
Everson did his best to wear a hurt expression. “You do know I’m standing here, right?”
Ivy stood and put her arm around Everson’s waist. “Don’t worry, Ev. We still adore you, despite your wandering attention.”
With her body pressed up against him, he found himself unable to resist a smile. His gaze locked with hers and he saw adoration in her large, brown eyes. He then recalled the childhood crush toward Rena, a misplaced affection that had kept him from noticing Ivy for far too long. Now, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. How could I have been so blind?
“Master Hedgewick, I’m glad you’re here as well,” Cassie said, drawing Everson back to the conversation. “I came to find Everson because my brother and Quinn have finally agreed to provide a full report.”
Benny stood, his glib expression growing serious. “It’s about time. Delvin has been chomping at the bit about their mission.”
“I know,” Cassie replied. “He cornered me earlier and convinced me to press Brandt. When I contacted my brother, he said they would give their report after sunset.”
Benny’s gaze swept the room and he frowned. “I forget there are no windows in here.” He looked at Cassie. “How much time does that leave us?”
“I’d say two hours at most.”
His brow furrowed. “I had better go, then. I need to send word to the others so we are all present.”
The man headed toward the door and Cassie turned toward Everson. “They need me present in order to communicate with Brandt, but I wonder if they will continue to allow you to sit in with us.”
Everson nodded. “I have been wondering the same thing, but I don’t dare broach the subject. I’d hate to be the one who spoils it.”
Cassie moved closer and whispered, “If it comes to that, I’ll relay messages to you. Quinn is your sister, and I’m sure you are as concerned about her as I am about Brandt.”
“Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate it.”
She gave him a warm smile. “I’ll see you in the briefing room after dinner.”
As she walked away, Everson wondered what Quinn and Brandt had been up to since their last report. I’ll find out soon.
A glowlamp on the table and one beside the door lit the briefing room, each with a blue nimbus casting shadows in a different direction from the other. Everson sat in one chair and Cassie sat beside him. The other chairs encircling the table were occupied by ICON’s leaders. The room was quiet, the mood one of impatience as they all waited for Brandt to begin relaying his report through Cassie.
Elias Firellus sat across from Everson, his dark, almost demonic stare targeted at Cassie, who sat beside Everson. The man still made Everson nervous, as if he were something other than human. The master arcanist had a serious, brooding nature that left Everson wondering if he were ever happy.
Beside Firellus sat old Pherran Nindlerod. The small engineering master was the opposite of Firellus in many ways. Quirky, comedic, and loveable, Nindlerod had a knack of making those around him feel at ease.
The stern and impressive Captain Goren, leader of the Torreco Academy of Combat Tactics, sat beside Nindlerod. Since the military academy stood two miles from the Arcane Ward, Goren only joined important meetings. With war approaching, Everson assumed the man’s attendance would become a more common occurrence.
Salina Alridge, master of the arcane arts, sat beside Goren while tapping her long, elegant fingers on the table. With dark hair, mocha-colored skin, and curves that drew men’s attention, she carried a serious intensity that challenged anyone who might step out of line.
Abraham Ackerson sat beside her, rubbing his graying beard, his squinty eyes appearing to contemplate something serious. As headmaster of the Fallbrandt Academy of Magic and Engineering, the man had played a key role in Everson’s life since he arrived at the school. As a leader within ICON, his presence became a constant Everson found comforting.
The man beside Ackerson was rarely serious. Instead, Delvin patted his own chest to a beat, as if listening to music nobody else could hear. With dark hair slicked back and a trimmed goatee, Delvin behaved as if he didn’t have a care in the world. However, Everson knew the man was not what he seemed. Of anyone at the table, Everson suspected that Delvin held the most secrets. As a master espion, the same man who had trained Quinn and Brandt, Delvin heard whispers others wouldn’t hear, went places others did not go, and pulled strings others didn’t know existed. Everson trusted the others around the table, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to trust Delvin Garber.
“Is he ready yet?” Benny said from his seat beside Cassie.
She opened her eyes and turned toward him. “Just a moment, Master Hedgewick. They are moving to a private location.”
“Do you know where they are now?” Delvin asked.
“Brandt says they are in Yarth.”
Delvin’s eyes narrowed. “Yarth. Interesting.”
The comment stirred three conversations at once, involving everyone present other than Delvin, Cassie, and Everson. When Cassie held her hand up, the room fell silent.
“They are ready.” She closed her eyes and then began reciting Brandt’s report. “Once assigned the task of destroying the Imperial weapon facility, Brandt and Quinn concocted a scheme that might make it possible for Quinn to return to Sol Polis as the Archon’s bodyguard. Leveraging her assignment to locate any spies within the palace, Quinn crafted a missive before she and Brandt slipped away. The note was addressed to Varius and implicated Brandt as the spy before outlining Quinn’s plan to follow him in hope of discovering who was behind the assassination attempt on the Archon. To further sell the story, they planted the stolen map in Brandt’s room before they left Sol Polis.”
Delvin nodded. “Good thinking. The position Quinn had as the Archon’s bodyguard holds value and leaving the door open to return might become important.”
With her eyes still closed, Cassie resumed her tale. “Brandt and Quinn then journeyed to Vinata for a brief stay before departing for Corvichi. They arrived to find the castle heavily guarded. Using guile and stealth, they snuck in and found that it, indeed, was where the Empire was making its new weapons.
“Karl Jarlish was there, as were workers who built the weapons. In addition, Brandt and Quinn found the stores of flash powder, including eight barrels filled with the stuff. While preparing to destroy the weapons, they were discovered and surrounded by armed guards.” Cassie gasped. “The situation forced Brandt to test the Speed rune on himself. That desperate act not only enabled them to escape, but they were also able to sabotage the castle in the process. The stored flash powder ignited in a massive explosion, destroying everything, and everyone, within.
“The Speed augmentation made Brandt’s movements quicker than thought, his perception of time altered such that a second felt like minutes to him, but it also expired far faster than other augmentations. Worse, when the effects wore off, Brandt found himself weak and exhausted.
“While Brandt and Quinn escaped the blast, Imperial soldiers at the castle gate attacked, using a new weapon called a…musket. Quinn was shot in the arm as she and Brandt fled. Thankfully, they found a boat and took it downriver, eluding the pursuit.”
The tale had been harrowing, but discovering Quinn had been wounded stirred dread inside Everson. Is she all right? He missed his sister and couldn’t imagine losing her.
“When Brandt woke the next day, Quinn’s condition was dire, her body hot with a fever, and she had lost a lot of blood. He cut a chunk of metal from her arm and…and he healed her using Order.”
Thank Issal, Everson thought.
“The river took them to Yarth, where they now reside, recovering from their mission.”
As Cassie finished, Everson’s gaze swept the table, studying the faces of ICON’s leaders.
Some rubbed their chins in thought; others narrowed their eyes while staring at Cassie. Delvin leaned in and folded his hands on the table.
“Cassie, ask Brandt what they have discovered since their arrival in Yarth.”
Closing her eyes, Cassie, again, began to relay Brandt’s message. “Something big is happening in the area. They have seen squads of armed warriors heading toward a newly constructed compound about a mile outside the city.”
Delvin peered across the table. “What do you think, Goren?”
The military captain crossed his thick arms and grimaced. “It could be a garrison for the army, giving them a place to gather and train as they prepare to launch their campaign.”
Delvin nodded. “My thought as well.”
“Hold on,” Benny said, turning toward Cassie. “I would know more about these muskets. Please ask your brother to share more information. Can he describe them and how are they used?”
With a nod, Cassie closed her eyes. A moment later, she said, “Similar in size to a crossbow, they also use a release trigger. However, rather than firing a bolt, they have metal tubes and a striker that ignites flash powder inside the tube. A chunk of metal then flies from the tube – just like the one Brandt cut from Quinn’s arm.”
Benny whistled and sat back.
Everson leaned forward and shared his theory. “Muskets are like miniature flash cannons. They are using controlled explosions to launch metal balls in both cases.” As he said it, he knew it to be true. “However, muskets are small and light enough to be carried. The energy generated by igniting flash powder could make the range of these muskets four times that of a bow. I just wonder if their aim is reliable.” Something else then occurred to him. “Regardless, healing someone with a chunk of metal in them would be impossible, and removing something like that is far more difficult than pulling an arrow free.”
“I agree, Everson,” Benny said. “Flash bombs, flash cannons, and now these muskets – these creations could greatly alter battle strategy.” An uncharacteristic sadness reflected in the engineering master’s eyes. “What good is a sword against such weapons?”
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