by Jason Letts
“OK,” he said, changing the subject, “did you tell this guy anything about our meeting place?”
“I lied to him, of course, and told him we were meeting by the publisher’s.”
The leader raised his thick arm and put his hand to his chin, frowning.
“I’ve found a new place to meet no one should be able to find. It’s back down in the cavern. There’s a vacant apartment on one of the middle levels directly below the river. You spread the word we’ll meet there on Monday night and I’ll take care of those twerps from Corey Outpost.”
Giddy with delight, Vern had heard all he needed to hear. Without waiting for them to finish up, he backtracked through the changing room and returned to the busy street in front of the healer’s pool. He walked briskly through the streets to Cybil’s wave shop. He found Will helping Cybil wash some dishes. He seemed to be enjoying it.
“Will! I’m so glad I found you. What you did was amazing. It worked perfectly. We know everything now!”
“I know. I know. You don’t have to flatter me. They’re meeting behind the bookstore on Thursday nights. I knew I’d get him to spill it.”
“No,” Vern objected. “That was a lie.”
“No, I think he was telling the truth. I hooked him like a fish.”
Vern scratched his head. He began to have second thoughts about Will’s spectacular plan.
“So you just assumed you’d be able to get him to tell you? Then why did you tell me to keep him in my sights?” Vern asked.
“In case he decided to run. Sometimes I can be intimidating,” Will declared.
Vern rolled his eyes.
“Just listen. Whether it was an accident or not, the boy ran off to the guy running the midnight club. I listened in on them, and they’re going to be meeting on Monday night in an empty room on one of the cavern’s middle levels. Get this, I’m pretty sure the guy pumping them for war information is the spy. I mean, it makes sense. But what doesn’t make sense is how they’ve known him all along.”
“Yeah, I don’t think the spy would wait ten years to finally get to work. The war has barely lasted that long,” Will added.
“I know, but we can’t waste any time figuring it out. He said he’s going to come after us, and I don’t want to find out what he’s got in mind. We’ve got to decide on a way to expose him at this meeting. It’s our only chance,” Vern schemed.
“How could we even get close? They know who we are and what we’re up to. Even that puny liar could probably beat us if he started telling us we had chicken arms, not to mention the big one and the rest of them.”
“I know we could get Aoi, but she wouldn’t be able to infiltrate their group either. Which one of us could possibly get them to let us into their meeting to unmask the spy?” Vern wondered.
Vern and Will shared a look, and the answer suddenly came to them.
“Do you think she could make it here in time?” Will asked.
“More importantly, do you think he will let her come?” Vern added.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Will dashed out of the building alongside Vern. Cybil snorted at all of the dishes that remained. She dropped the one she held back into the basin and ran after them.
Mira, groggy and fatigued, stumbled down the stairs to the ground floor of Widget’s home. Days of rest didn’t erase the somber, worn feeling inside of her. She didn’t know the time or what day it was, just that sunlight trickled in through the window. Hobbling into a small kitchen, she found a plate of bacon and eggs on the table. The food had gone cold.
She ate them anyway and gazed around the bare room. A few of the cupboards had locks on them. The pantry appeared to have been cleaned out. The icebox, however, had meat enough to last a year. It made her ill to think of it. She had eaten so much meat that it no longer looked like food.
The sound of clinking glass came from the laboratory. Mira quickly choked down the rest of her meal so she could investigate. Entering, she saw Flip Widget busily preparing something. In front of the large, broken machine and the metal tablet, at least twenty oddly shaped jars sat on the floor around a stationary bicycle. Coming closer, Widget finally noticed her arrival.
“Good, you’re up. Now we’re way behind schedule. It’s time to get back to work,” he said.
“Really? I still feel so weak. Maybe my training was too hard. All my strength has left me,” she commiserated.
“Nonsense,” Widget quickly replied. “It’s all in your mind. Now I’ve got something here that should really capture your interest. Come take a gander.”
“You mean all of these seltzer bottles?” she asked, taking another step forward. Widget gave Mira a sour grimace and grabbed one of the milk bottles. A nozzle, valve, and a piece of copper wire ran through the top. All of the bottles had an identical design, and all were filled with water.
“This isn’t a seltzer bottle, it’s called a Leyden Jar,” he explained. “It’s a way for us to store electricity and then dispense it very quickly by spraying the water. As you can see, I’ve already started putting the copper we found to good use.”
Mira considered the jars for a moment and started to understand.
“The glass and the water are both conductors of electricity. It can’t be charged now or else it would be dangerous for you to hold in your bare hands.”
“Very perceptive,” Widget evaluated. “And that’s why I need you to charge them with the generator hooked up to this stationary bicycle. Let me show you how to hook the Leyden Jars to the generator. You’ll have to charge them one at a time, but you’ll know when each is full of electricity because the bicycle will give you a shock.”
“Great,” Mira grumbled.
Widget put on a pair of rubber gloves and started to demonstrate how to attach the jar’s copper wire to the generator.
“Now don’t be shy. Go ahead and get started. This’ll be a great way to improve your aerobic fitness and become acquainted with a very useful device,” Widget said, dropping the gloves on the counter and starting to leave.
“Useful for what? What are these for?” she asked, climbing onto the bicycle seat. Widget turned around awkwardly just inside of the door, spitting out his words before exiting.
“A fun experiment we have coming up. Not a big deal. Don’t worry.”
Mira was alone in the laboratory room except for the Leyden Jars and the stationary bicycle. She didn’t know how long it would take to charge all of the jars. She felt she didn’t have the strength for even one. Starting to pedal, she struggled to complete the rotations. A few minutes in, her skin started to itch, and she scratched at her arm near the static charger. The tiny bottle of tears in her pocket from her mother rubbed against her hip. Even the little pebble in her ear felt uncomfortable.
Eventually, the shock from the bicycle jolted her, and she got off to change the jar. She put on the rubber gloves, unwound the copper wire, and set the charged jar on a shelf. Hooking up the next one, she returned to the bicycle. Pedaling felt like it would grind away her soul, but she pushed her legs in circles despite the crushing loss of feeling.
Hanging her head in a moment of exhaustion, Mira’s eyes drifted down to her legs, which were bare below a pair of shorts. To her astonishment, she saw spots on her skin, and she recoiled from them. Blinking hard and rubbing her eyes did nothing to remove them. Painfully accepting they were real, she reached out and touched one of the odd-colored circles on her inner thigh.
“What?” she gasped in horror. Nothing made sense as everything that was happening vanished inside the vacuum of her hazy mind. Her eyes had trouble focusing, and she slumped over.
But the spots would have to be attended to later. Widget would get upset if the jars weren’t charged in a reasonable amount of time. Having him angry at her seemed more than she could possibly take.
Chapter 11: What Lies Beneath
On a starlit night with the wind howling through the open plain, a lone pair of feet kicked along the riverside on the way to Darmen. So
ft firelight and the reflection from the web gave the city a distinct glow, and the sounds of people carried along with the wind. An old fisherman cast a line into the river, hoping for a fish to bite before it dropped over the edge into the bottomless cavern.
The traveler caught sight of three figures in the dark, one thick, one thin, and one well shorter than the other two. They’d been waiting for this arrival. As the distance between them diminished, and they began to make out the traveler’s curly hair and curvy shape, tension stiffened their arms and straightened their spines. They were taking a risk and putting themselves in the face of danger in the hopes of spoiling a malicious plot, one that almost went unnoticed. They clenched their fists and nodded.
“You’re just in time. We don’t have a moment to lose,” Vern said.
“I got here as quickly as I could. Let’s do this,” Roselyn replied.
Aoi gave her a curt nod, and Will conjured a weak smile to greet her. Changing the weight of her small bag to the other shoulder, Roselyn continued forward and urged them to get moving. She seemed very at home in the dark. They passed the old fisherman, who looked on curiously. Following the sound of the running river, they soon came to the massive crater that cut straight into the earth.
Roselyn couldn’t help giving away her astonishment at this wonder. The falling river water caught the moonlight and shimmered spectacularly. Descending along the ramp, made of wooden planks and sandblasted rope, they set off along the top level of the boarded walkways encircling the pit. Without a word, Roselyn let them lead her down until the plunging river dissolved into a heavenly mist.
Another set of steps brought them to the middle level, and the search for the midnight club and the enemy spy began. Sneaking along the corridors and through the tunnels, they looked for suspicious lights and listened for voices. It didn’t take them long to find something. One wooden door blocked a small tunnel, and its glass panes revealed the light of a lantern slipping between bodies at the far end.
The door didn’t have a doorknob, let alone a lock, and Will cupped his ear to the small hole to confirm what they already knew.
“It’s them,” he said.
An electrical shock stung Mira’s hands as she gripped the bare metal handlebars of the stationary bicycle. Sighing forcefully, she climbed down from the seat and went to the generator. It pained her to kneel and set her tender knees on the hard tile floor. Wearing the rubber gloves, she disconnected the Leyden Jar and set it on the counter next to nineteen others.
“There, I’m finished. Can I go to bed now?” she asked Flip Widget, who had been doing nothing but watching her work, a peculiar look on his face.
“Go to bed? But you’ve only been up for a few hours. This strange sleep schedule you’ve gotten into is not healthy,” he said.
“It’s my body. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It keeps…” but the energy to talk left her, and she let her unfocused gaze drift toward the floor. The fluorescent lights above cast a cold, sterile shine over it. She didn’t notice Widget had gotten to his feet until he came closer and lifted her head by the chin.
“This is what it all comes down to, Mira,” he explained. “Do you have the will to keep pushing yourself when things get hard? Remember what I’ve said from the very beginning: you’ve got to believe I know what’s best. It’s not fun now. I know that. We’re so close to finally getting you ready for your true purpose, your destiny even. Can you push just a little bit more?”
“I’ve been trying,” Mira whimpered.
“Think of all you’ve been fighting for. Your darling natural sister, Clara, forced into a lifetime of punishment because she was your sister. Your wonderful, trusting parents, Kevin and Jeana, who couldn’t see anything outside of their bubble of love. They’ll be so proud of you when they find out what you’ve done. When they hear of your commitment to the advancement of knowledge.”
“My sister and my parents. I love them,” she said.
“That’s good. Of course you do. Now we’re almost there. All we need to do is strip the rest of these copper sheets into wires. That should give us enough to make the necessary repairs.”
“OK,” she submitted, moving to the thin orange sheets.
Vern, Will, and Aoi huddled around Roselyn as she stared through the glass pane. They couldn’t tell how many people were inside, but they could see one figure that dwarfed the rest in size. Their nerves began to get to them, and they dreaded their entrance, which had to come next.
“So is that the one you think it is?” Roselyn asked.
“It’s got to be,” Vern answered. “He’s behind all of it and no one else has any idea.”
“Who is he?” she asked.
“That’s a good question. We don’t even know what his power is.”
“Great, so let me get this straight,” Roselyn pondered. “I’ve got to go in there and neutralize everyone in the room, including a volatile enemy spy who could do anything we could possibly imagine. Then I need to expose him in a way convincing enough that they don’t attack us for trying to help.”
“That’s about right,” Vern said.
“Boy, it sounds like I’m our only chance. It’s a good thing I’m me or else we’d be in trouble,” she teased.
“Don’t let it go to your head or anything,” Will prodded.
Roselyn shoved Will out of the way and bent down in front of the doorknob hole. Cupping her hands to her mouth and pressing them against the wood, she let her song flit through the air and into the unsuspecting ears of those in the room at the end of the tunnel. She poured her peace into those notes and let them ring out from her vocal chords into the darkness.
Seamlessly, she slipped her hand into the hole, pulled, and repositioned her mouth near the narrow opening. The creaking door made an eerie accompaniment to her gentle lullaby. Pulling it open, she slipped in, the others following behind. Her voice drifted through the air and filled every corner of the hollow, saturating it without anybody realizing this simple tune was more than a memory of something sweet their mothers had sung.
Roselyn didn’t need to be afraid as she continued through the tunnel. Though someone turned around to look at her, she didn’t hesitate. The face, calm and relaxed, gave her a smile before turning back to the others. All talk had come to an end, and their minds unwound with the musical rhythm.
Leading her friends, Roselyn stepped into the middle of the group of young men and women, the lamplight focused upon her. Placid, blank faces encircled them, including that of their muscle-bound suspect. A pair of sleepy, passive eyes sat in his sharp, rocky face. Roselyn’s voice entranced them all, and even Will, Vern, and Aoi moved about slowly and deliberately.
“What are you doing here?” asked an emotionless voice.
Vern and Will approached the large leader, who did nothing but watch them come closer.
“We think your friend here is actually a spy working for the Sunfighters,” Vern explained to the crowd.
“No, I’m not,” the buff suspect defended.
“We’ve known him forever,” rang a flat voice. “Since before he grew all these muscles as a shadow.”
“It’s got to be somebody,” Will said. “I found an enemy uniform in the river. You’ve been feeding him information.”
While the group watched Will speak, Vern examined their suspect closely. His muscles seemed abnormally large, beyond what anyone could achieve through normal training. His skin stretched over them tightly.
‘Oh, no,’ Roselyn worried, as she began to understand. The leader’s puffy, ghoulish face reminded her of the guard from her training. A power must be responsible for it, and the only explanation was that the spy hid within this young boy. The grotesque idea of being possessed and controlled made Roselyn shut her eyes and wince. They would have to be separated. Fumbling with her song, she paused briefly, taking a deep breath. She began to sing again, though the confidence on her face had been replaced by strain and pressure. Blinking and shaking their heads, some of
those in the packed room started to wake from their stupor.
“Hey!” someone shouted, a distinct flare of anger rising in her voice.
“Roselyn, you’re losing them!” Vern warned. It looked for all the world like her control had disappeared, and the faces around them became more hostile and aggressive. But the bulky suspect developed a smirk, and then a grin, soon laughing outright. Some watched him out of confusion and some stood up to confront the intruders. Vern, Will, and Aoi backed up against Roselyn and prepared for the first attack.
The pressure rose in Roselyn’s head as she focused her notes at the laughing leader. Looking at him more closely, the laughter appeared to pain him greatly. He tried to chuckle through a frown, laughing though his entire face betrayed a deep woe. Roselyn touched her finger to her upper lip to check for blood. The suspect bent over and began shaking violently. His muscles began to bubble and twitch. A few gasps followed the sudden display of disturbing, seizure-like behavior.
He stumbled closer to the entrance, and the others backed away in horror. The muscles in his legs and arms collected under his skin in ugly lumps that began to collect on his back and swell. Roselyn kept singing and the troubling laughter kept coming while the hump metastasized into a human figure. Separating from the body, another body took shape, this one rough and discolored like a lump of clay. Disgusted and dismayed, they watched this new figure stand on top of the host’s body.
Before they could do anything, Roselyn fainted into Will’s arms.
Mira set down the copper sheet and turned to Widget. It made a jarring sound as it clanged against the others. Widget busily prepared a table saw to make the wires. When Mira approached him, he glared at her with visible irritation.
“What is it?” he barked.
His tone and look made his point clear enough. He wanted her to get back to work. Alas, talking about her family made Mira’s mind gravitate to how she would achieve her deeply desired goal of reuniting them.
“I’m sorry, but maybe it’d be a better idea if we started talking about the Rite at Shadow Mountain. It’s coming up soon,” she pleaded.
