The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  “Long story. Let’s just say I’m a team player. How are you?”

  “I’ve no idea. Is this truly me?” Misty asked again, looking down at her body, stretched along his. “Is it?” she repeated, but Jace was stuck in staring mode once more. He wanted to reply, but his brain refused to cooperate. She tapped his chest with a finger, then pointed down at his groin. “You clearly appreciate the new look.”

  Jace flushed, and released Misty to roll away. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a kid on a first date. He jumped from the table to grab his folded jeans and slithered into them without looking up. Looking was definitely dangerous. Especially when he hardly knew what he was thinking. She was alive. Really alive and really different. Within minutes of first meeting Mist he’d been forced to lock her away in a mental folder labeled 'Do Not Touch', but now it might be possible to do some serious re-filing. With touching right at the top of list.

  “What are you grinning about?” Misty asked, sliding off the med-field and into his personal space. Jace quickly bent over again, to snatch up his shirt. What was he thinking? He hardly knew. She was alive. Really alive and really... different.

  Jace pulled on a sleeve, while carefully keeping his gaze away from her. She had him so off balance he couldn't even dress himself. His shirt bunched across his back then stuck, refusing to spread over his shoulders. He pulled harder and there was a screech of tearing cloth in his ear. The damn thing had ripped.

  Jace pulled the rag off his arm and his shoulder blade flexed. There was a rustle behind his head and an unexpected weight on one side tipped him over. He took two crab steps sideways, completely unbalanced. Then something snapped open behind him and he actually staggered toward the shiny walls. Leather curves sprang away from his body like spring-loaded sails, to crash into the mirrors on either side.

  The glassy walls cracked and pain shot up Jace's... what? What the heck was hurting? It wasn't his hand as he first thought. He turned further to see what had appeared behind him and it turned as well. He stumbled again and Misty ducked under his arm to support him. Her naked body slithered past his like silk in the wind and everything else was forgotten. She was laughing when she threw her head back against his shoulder to look up. “That's awesome. Open the other one.”

  Jace smiled, then grinned and then laughed too. She was alive. So alive. More vibrant than he'd ever seen her.

  “Ace, unfurl the other one.”

  “Other what?”

  “Wing, dopey. What is with you recently? You're a flight now. Like that yuk Zak.”

  Misty's words finally sank in. He had wings. He closed his eyes, reaching mentally for his shoulder blades and there they were, something alien and exciting sprouting from his back. He concentrated and muscles tightened in his chest, to spread both wings again. They snapped open together and this time the walls were completely smashed. They exploded on either side of him and he ducked to shelter Misty, who was laughing in delight. They straightened together and grinned at their friends, who were gaping at them through one of the holes in the chamber.

  Misty hugged Jace tight and his new parts were briefly forgotten, because her new parts were much more interesting. He took the chance to pull her bare body closer and his wings instantly flipped upward. Their upper claws dug into the ceiling and he flinched, before managing to gouge them free. “Sorry.”

  Jace looked into the next room, but everyone was still staring blankly. Nearly everyone. The Maker scuttled forward, crunching over glassy shards to skitter up to the couple and raise his com. “You're both so lovely. The most beautiful I've made. May I take some images?”

  Jace's hand closed around the gentik's wrist. “No images. Find the lady's clothes. And for the record you didn't make us. Not even close.” He released the Maker, who stepped back with his smile still in place.

  “Yes, indeed, I had no intent to steal credit. I don't plagiarize others' work. I must congratulate you though. Your wing span is impressive and your perseverance was admirable. I've never seen such a perfect transition at such an advanced age. Most amazing considering the damaged state of your partner. Well,” he paused with a chuckle and a glance at Misty, “the deceased state of your partner. I'm amazed you didn't match her in death, rather than the reverse, but of course it was love that made you so reckless. You were surely a sad sight when you thought her gone-”

  The Maker grunted in shock when Misty’s slender hands seized him in an iron grip and slammed him to the floor. His breath exploded from his lungs and he looked to Jace in silent appeal, but he shrugged. She wanted answers and he had no problem with how she asked. Her fists bunched in the Maker’s lab coat to lift his shoulders off the floor and she pulled his face close to hers. “What happened here?”

  “See,” her victim squeaked and a visual of their transformation appeared above his wrist. Misty watched silently as her limp form almost claimed Jace, before they both jerked back to life. He twitched at the sight of their shared pain, but managed to stay quiet too.

  Misty pushed away from the Maker to rise while his com was still playing, then turned to face Jace. She placed her hands on her hips and he tried to pay attention, but it was unusually difficult.

  “Ace! Up here.”

  He slowly lifted his gaze to her face. He expected a glare, perhaps a hint of silver, but her teeth caught her lower lip, while her eyes were a soft gray. She stepped closer, and reached out to lightly touch his chest. “You idiot. You could have died. You nearly did.”

  He shrugged and squirmed inside, but what the hell. “So? I love you.”

  “Oh.” Gold swept over Misty's cheeks, stronger than before, and she absently lifted a hand to it.

  Jace tried not to grin, but couldn’t help it. “Are you blushing?”

  Misty snorted and this time he got a glare. “Doubtful. At risk of stating the obvious, I love you too.”

  Her hands settled more firmly against his bare chest and behind her head she unfolded her wings. Jace watched entranced while they slowly bent forward to circle them both, hiding the rest of the lab. His chest tensed in that odd way, then his wings swept around them too, so that everything turned a soft green, like the bottom of a shallow sea. Her gray eyes became teal and he seemed to be drowning in them. Certainly breathing was unimportant.

  “I love you,” Jace whispered, but she covered his last word with a kiss. The touch sent a shock through him, while she jerked onto tip-toes in his arms. Warmth swept from his mouth to fill his chest and trickle down his spine. Why was everything with Mist so damn good? He didn’t know and didn’t care. His tongue explored further, finding more warmth and thought slipped away.

  A happy monologue from the Maker totally ruined the moment. “Intriguing. There seems to be an energy exchange between your cells. Strange and wonderful. Keep doing that while I get some scans started- guano. Did I not say keep doing that?”

  Misty peeled herself away from Jace and he relaxed his wings. They refurled behind him with a snap that made him wince. He definitely needed to practice that. Misty started to stow her wings too, but stopped and abruptly closed them tight around her naked form.

  “Clothes,” Jace barked and the Maker snapped his fingers at a ceiling compression strip. A silky dress of azure blue floated to the floor in response. Misty snatched it up and smiled when she looked at the vibrant fabric.

  The Maker simpered happily too. “It should suit my dear. The back is low cut, to allow for your wings. Do enjoy the flying. I think you'll have fun with the jet propulsion. It's a capability I'm most proud of. Creating the right series of air bladders, valves and micro-pore channels to make biological jet flight possible was quite the challenge. But even more impressive is my use of chlorophyll and algae. Your wings will photosynthesize for you.”

  “What? Truly?” Amber crunched her way into the shattered room and gripped an edge of Jace's wing. She tugged at it and he obediently unfurled some more. “This is wondrous. It feels like leather, but so soft.”

  �
�It's my patented mix of carbon-based fullerene, the subject's skin and insectile silk. Strong, but supple and highly resistant to tearing when injured. See here...” He tugged at the wing too and Jace sighed but flexed something near his shoulder blade to open it further. “The lower edge is lined with micro-pores which can blast out air and this... this thicker area both pads the front length of the wing and also stores fat. That creates a reserve for periods spent in the dark, without the subject having to add body fat. Minimal weight in the right places is crucial for flight. Plus they won't need to eat anymore. Baby flight still need milk. Their wings are too tiny to fly, or provide all their nourishment, but when they grow their stomachs remain the same size. My experiments show that the optimal adult regimen is sunbathing the wings for half an hour morning and afternoon, with several cups of tea or juice to provide water and nutrients. What do you think?”

  Amber opened her mouth, but the Maker continued without pause. “I've solved the problem with low ceilings too. A joint at shoulder height that can dislocate. See? Here and here.” He bounced over to Misty and tapped each of her wings behind her head. There were two sharp cracks and she jumped back.

  “Hey,” she complained and Jace balled his fists, while the Maker dipped apologetically.

  “The initial dislocation can be uncomfortable. You may need to use a hand to slide the joint free from its locked position, but look...”

  Misty's upper wings sagged forward and then fell to lie draped over her shoulders. The gentik grabbed the smaller claws at the top point of each wing and hooked them together over her breast bone. Her wings had been transformed into a teal cloak that was clasped at the front. They flowed behind her, no longer furled high and she spun in a delighted circle.

  “Remarkable,” Amber breathed and pushed Jace’s wing higher to slip underneath it.

  Her fingers probed beside his spine and he shrugged, making his whole back heave, which was weird. “Watch it. That tickles.”

  Amber ignored him to push deeper. “Only one set of shoulder blades, but jointed and wider? To fit both arms and wings?”

  The Maker hopped delightedly and pushed in to join her under Jace’s wing. He sighed and lifted it higher. “Yeah, why not? Let’s all have a party in my back.”

  “Note the extra musculature,” the Maker gushed. “It extends to the chest and a keel on the breast bone where the flight muscles attach.” His fingers trailed around Jace’s side.

  “Hey!” Jace interrupted. “You try to flex one more thing, Doctor Doom and my glad-to-be-alive mood will be gone. Are you guys even listening to me?”

  “Hmmm?” Amber asked, digging her fingers into another muscle. “Try not to jump around so, Jace, you’re not five.”

  A low growl vibrated through Jace’s chest and both examiners ducked out from under his wings.

  The Maker took his threat seriously enough to stop poking around at all, but Amber kept stroking his wing. “This feels amazing. It is amazing. The genetic achievement of a lifetime. Congratulations.”

  Misty skipped over to seize Amber, making her squeak, before pulling her close.

  The newly dressed girl kissed Amber warmly on the mouth and let her go. “Thank you so much for saving me. And thanks even more for saving the idiot. I owe you. Whatever you want, whenever you need it. Thank you all, but right now Jace and I have to fly.”

  Jace was laughing when she seized him by the hand and, as always, he didn't resist. He pulled back enough to slap his brother's shoulder when they passed each other, but that was all. It was a new day and the sky was calling.

  38

  Changes

  Amber raised a hand to stop Misty and Jace, but she was far too slow. The couple sprinted from the lab, heading for freedom. She stared after them with unexpected longing. She knew the thrill of being reborn, but to return with wings like that... how wonderful. Falkyn limped to join her and gave her an awed smile.

  “They look amazing. Are they truly alright?”

  “They're perfect,” Amber sighed and jumped when Falkyn clutched at her arm.

  “What about me? Could I do that? Survive that?”

  Fear sank its claws in Amber's chest. She looked up into his wide eyes, but didn't hesitate. “No. I mean possibly, yes, but the risks would be huge. You no longer have an entire body to base a rebuild on. I don't know if you could even stand a metamorphosis, much less a completely new form.”

  “So, it's possible?”

  “No. I won't-”

  “Perhaps I can help,” the Maker offered and Amber wanted to strike him.

  “We saw what happened when you helped Misty,” she growled, but Falkyn released her arm and turned to the gentik.

  “Please. I can pay-”

  “Fal! What are you thinking? I won't let you do this.”

  You can't stop me. calm/resolved/determined He found the Maker's hand and drew him back over the shattered med-globe toward the lab.

  Amber followed in their wake, dazed and unsure. She couldn't let Falkyn die. She'd risked so much to save him and he'd come so far... “I'll do it.”

  Falkyn swiveled to face Amber and almost fell. She jumped to steady him and he hugged her close. “Thank you. I'll owe you for all time.”

  “Not if you die.” Amber clung to her patient and he sent reassurance. That was all wrong and backward, but Falkyn's mind was adamant. He was resolved and she had no option but to help him, or leave him to the careless gentik. “Alright, lose the clothes and grab a bed. Let's make some medical history.”

  Amber turned to look for the Maker, who stood behind them with his arms tucked into his long sleeves. He was nodding happily, but stopped when he saw Amber's expression. It must have been as grim as she felt. “Records. Now. I want all the data you have on this process.”

  “Absolutely, dear lady. I've long wished to share my invention of the Flight and my paper on them is nearly ready. You can be the first to see the process.”

  “The Flight?”

  “My name for my new invention. I called them Flight. Most appropriate is it not? A Beserk called Nikareon sponsored my research as a way to modify his children and free them from the Harvesters. I was successful beyond my wildest hopes. I can now change any babe to become Flight. In utero at least. The process is much more traumatic in older bodies. I've never had success with subjects as mature as this before. I have to say I wouldn't recommend the procedure for your damaged friend. He's most unlikely to survive. With his age and injuries, this is definitely contra-indicated.”

  “I know. Show me everything you've done.”

  The Maker gestured to a console against the wall and Amber walked briskly to lean against it. Colors swirled in front of her face and a series of holograms appeared. Her eyes flicked from one to the other, rapidly absorbing the data. Her stomach tightened as she read and her sense of dread grew.

  The statistics were horrific. Numbers kept scrolling past, until they no longer made any sense. Amber could hardly bear to analyze them. The death was beyond carnage. To one side the gentik nodded in time to her distress.

  “Ye, ye. The waste factor was unfortunate-”

  Amber had no plan to move, but abruptly she did. She spun and her arms flashed out. The Maker broke off with a gurgle, while she stared in amazement at her hands around his throat. How? When? What was she doing? She scarcely felt the gentik's fingers trying to pry her hands away.

  “Amber,” Falkyn said softly and that was enough to return her to herself.

  She released the Maker and staggered away from him. “Sorry. I'm sorry. That was... unprofessional.”

  The Maker was coughing and clutching his throat, so Amber stepped back to his side. He flinched when she raised a hand, but she simply plastered a regen pad around his neck. His color improved and he straightened with a scowl.

  “Unprofessional indeed. There's no need for such high and mighties, Lady. Your kres BGP does much the same.”

  “It surely does not.”

  “Are you certain? Not
a single life lost in eons of experiments?”

  Amber was back in the gentik's face again, so close his rapid breathing warmed her cheeks. “Not one. We added more than we should have mayhap and we were never meticulous about seeking permission, but we always took care not to court death.”

  The Maker's eyes were wide and he panted harshly, trying to back away, but Amber's hands were on his shoulders this time. “You don't know what you require, Lady. You can't experiment carefully. Gene manipulation is never moderate-”

  “It can be, you irresponsible fool. A balance can be found in everything.” She turned to look for Falkyn. He couldn't risk his fragile recovery on this blood-soaked scheme. The room was empty. Her heart clenched, but she ignored it. The boy was no fool. He was probably just exploring the complex-

  A pulsating light filled the lab and painted its white walls in red and brown. The colors of blood and dried blood. Amber stood frozen. She knew what she would see when she turned. She doubted she had the strength to look, but the lab tipped slowly around her, so her body must be moving somehow.

  The hole in the wall of the test chamber was filled by a dull globe. A metabolic field covered the test bench again. Someone had activated the genetic re-sequencer. Someone very stupid.

  “Your friend is most determined,” the Maker observed. “It's such a pity that the chamber is still set to a hybrid-flight rewrite. It will kill a kres.”

  Amber tried to understand why Falkyn would take such a risk, but her thought process seemed to be shutting down. Her body took control instead to launch her at the viscous bubble. She bounced right off, but charged again without hesitation. This time she clawed at the yielding surface, scratching, kicking and finally thumping the shield with the side of her fist.