by Amy Braun
Pain stabbed into Deanna’s eyes, quickly replaced by anger. She shot to her feet and towered over me.
“You think I don’t know that?” she shouted. “It’s all I can think about now.”
I got to my feet and stood my ground. “Then do something about it. For once in your life, protect your daughters.”
I expected the slap across the face. It carried more force than I anticipated, though. I wiped blood from the fresh cut on my lower lip, then looked directly at Deanna.
“Claire did the same thing to me when we first met. So I’ll tell you what I told her.” I was taller than Deanna, so I towered over her when I approached. “You had your shot. You only get one.”
If she was intimidated, she didn’t let it show. I was starting to see where Claire had gotten her bravery.
I held up the journal again, never breaking eye contact with Deanna. “Tell me what’s so important that you left Claire to finish a nearly impossible task. What have you been doing for the last ten years?”
She looked at the book like a drowning woman searching for air. She slumped, probably knowing she was out of options.
“I’ve been gathering old Sky Guard forces,” she confessed. “Anyone Beck and I could find. I’ve used every material I could get my hands on to build weapons and equipment for a tactical assault in Hellnore. The only thing I haven’t managed to find is a ship that could make it through the Breach.”
“Claire said you might be able to stop the storm-maker.” I’d already explained to her what it was and what Claire told me it could do. “Do you have a weapon that will work against them?”
She sighed and pulled the goggles off her head. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair. As she pushed it back, I could see silver strands growing around her temples.
“Yes. I’ve been working on a machine to clear the clouds leaking out of the Breach,” she said. “It’s a turbine with electro-static rotor blades that will change air pressure and suck our excess electrical energy, then breaks it down into wind energy that I can send anywhere I want.”
I raised an eyebrow, shocked that she had even been able to come up with such an invention, but Deanna didn’t notice my stunned gaze.
“This design isn’t strong enough to close the Breach,” she went on, “but if a blast is shot directly into that tunnel, it might counteract whatever storm they’re trying to funnel out and grant you safer passage.”
I was allowed a moment of relief before she continued.
“But it’s slow going. It would have more power if I could connect it to a Palisade and increase the amount of retention, but I don’t have the materials to create another Palisade.”
“You wouldn’t need to,” I said, handing her the journal. Deanna took it hesitantly, sliding it from my fingers. “I have the one from the Meridian.”
Her eyes lit up. “How?”
I shrugged. “Lots of pulling and lots of explosives.” My smirk worried her, but I brushed off the concern. “It’s still intact. Parts of it are fried from when Claire used it, but I’m sure you’ll be able to repair it. You created it, after all. Between this new tower of yours, the Palisade, and the Volt that Claire set up, there will be little the Vesper can do to stop us from closing the Breach.”
Deanna lowered her gaze to the book in her hands. Her thumbs stroked the soft leather for comfort. Her face was grim.
“You don’t know the Vesper,” she said.
Chapter 14
Claire
The Vesper allowed me to remain in my room with my workstation, but stripped it of all else. The bed and dresser were gone. Only a chamber pot remained, sitting next to a grate where I could empty it myself. The only clothes I had were the ones I wore. Chains remained on my wrists, seeming heavier than before, since they were only feeding me once a day now. I was given enough water to last the day, but no blanket to keep me warm at night. When exhaustion crippled me, I had to sleep on a patchwork of greasy rags in a sad attempt to soften the cold floor. I woke with kinks in my back and neck, an empty belly, and an aching heart.
The lack of food made it hard to regain my strength. When the Vesper last fed from me, he drained me until I was moments from death. I had felt my life being sucked away, every guzzled ounce pulling me deeper into pain and despair. I don’t remember the journey back to my cell, or anything that happened along the way. My clothes were still on, so Davin hadn’t touched me.
I doubted I would be able to stay away from him for much longer. The Vesper was losing patience with me.
I had to put my plan into action now.
Over the next week, I did my best to remember everything I’d seen in the Dark Spire. I listened to the guards, heard their shift rotations. There was only one per day, since the Hellions didn’t require much by way of sleep. When it happened, my food came with it. I pictured the exterior of the Dark Spire, guessing how many levels down it was to the docking bay where the skiffs were. There were sixteen buttons on the control panel in the elevator. The larger ships were held higher than the smaller ones, the docking bays tucked in an open cave in the middle of the Spire. The skiffs had to be on level nine. It was my safest guess.
As the days passed, I worked on the Palisade, but not as much as the Vesper thought I would. I added a few new materials and tweaked some of the interior design, just enough to make him see it was working. The majority of my time was spent making the remote transmitter for the Volt, which I could only gauge at a hundred feet. I wanted a farther range, but I was pushing my luck as it was. I constructed half a dozen flashbangs and torches in a single day, then went to work on creating a mask from welding goggles and plastic.
I looked at the mask with a grimace. Truth be told, it was hideous. The bottom of the goggles were welded to a molded piece of plastic that covered my nose and cheeks, with only two slits cut for me to breathe through. The mouthpiece had reluctantly been modeled after the respirator the Hellions used. The filters on the front of the mask would allow me to inhale, after moving through the filter so I could breathe safely. The air would taste stuffy, but I wouldn’t poison my lungs with the debris floating in the air.
I stuffed the flashbangs, torches, extra wires, spare tools, a previously charged electron-cell, and the mask into a grey traveling bag. It was the one Gemma gave me months ago, a loan which she never sought to have repaid. I wished I could thank her for it.
Though if I managed to pull this off, I might see her again.
My plan was to slip past my guards, find a way down to the power room, and set off the Volt. The remote had an instant discharge button, which I would use if it were my last and only option. That button was covered by a plastic cap so I couldn’t mistake it for the button I was actually going to press, one that would charge the Volt to full capacity for three minutes by tricking the receiver I installed. Once I activated the transmitter, it would send a radio signal to the receiver and make the Volt think pressure was being applied. The sides would pop open after five minutes and unleash the charge. By then, I intended to be on a Hellion skiff, traveling as fast as I could through the Breach and back to Aon.
Back to home.
The very idea put knots in my stomach. If I succeeded, I would surpass all expectations– eliminate the Hellions and return to the home I was almost sure I wouldn’t see again.
If I failed… Well, hopefully I wouldn’t live long enough to feel the pain of that monumental defeat.
Taking a deep breath, I walked back to the Palisade. I reached inside and fiddled with some wires, tugging them free from their sockets and connecting them into mismatched ones. Satisfied I’d make a “mistake” that wouldn’t get me killed, I stepped back and looked at the machine.
All things considered, I had done a decent job of recreating the Palisade from scratch. I was grateful that I convinced the Vesper the one I used in the Meridian was useless before he brought me here. Once I had the glass tubes, which looked like they were taken from substations or laboratories in Westraven, I was able
to weld them into a pair of metal daises. On top of the glass were a pair of forked connectors and ridged filaments that would channel the electricity from the tubes once the entire machine was charged. Between the filaments were thick wires that hung underneath a larger filament as wide as my bicep. At the base of each tube was a control panel containing a variety of switches, buttons, and the main power levers. Thick charging cords were connected to the back of each dais, drawing energy from the large generator at the back of the room.
I allowed myself a moment of vanity and pride. I created this entirely from memory, the notes in my mother’s diary providing little by way of instruction. I began building the Palisade, and just knew how it worked.
I wondered if my mother felt this way when she built this machine with my father for the first time. I could only imagine their awe at seeing it used the first time.
If my mother were still alive, what would she think of her creation now?
It wasn’t the time to think about it. The journal was weak proof that she was alive and anything could have happened since her last entry, but I trusted Sawyer. Believed in him. If she were alive, he would find her. What they did from there was anyone’s guess.
Slinging the bag across my shoulder and grateful it wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be, I flipped a couple of the switches. The Palisade sparked to life far too sharply. Electricity snapped and burst dangerously inside the tubes. A speedy whump came from inside the machine as it struggled to work through the mismatched wires. I ran past the Palisade to the overloading generator, reaching above it to the circuit breaker. I pulled it open and flipped every switch off, turning my workstation pitch black and shutting everything down. I tried to dismantle the generator the first time I’d been forced to work here, but all I received was a new machine, a beating from Davin, and a bloody feeding from the Vesper.
This time was different. I opened my bag and fumbled around until I found a closed torch. I took the small tube out and pulled on the ends, the gears inside clicking and spinning against a conductor that created a dull yellow light. The room was illuminated enough that I could see where I was walking. I quickly made my way across the room to the front door. I pounded on it with my fist.
“The power’s overloaded,” I yelled through the metal. “I need some help fixing it.”
I stepped back and waited until the door was yanked open. The Hellions from the second shift change glared at me with angry red eyes, baring their pointed fangs at me. I pointed to the Palisade, now void of any life or power. When the generator was overloaded, it too had shut down, both devices sighing mechanically.
“I need to go down to the power room and see if I can jumpstart the circuit breaker from there,” I said, which in a sense was true. If I had meant to come back into this horrid room again to continue my work, that’s exactly what I would have done.
But I had no intention of coming back.
The Hellions grabbed my arm and led me out of the room. I looked straight at the elevator, thinking about the time it would take me to get to the docking bay. I didn’t know how many Hellions would be there, but I had an arsenal of flashbangs. It might be enough to disorient them while I took a skiff and escaped. The Volt’s electric explosion would take care of the rest–
We reached the elevator doors when a Hellion shrieked behind us.
All three of us turned around, spotting one of the Hellions from the Vesper’s guard stalking toward us. It looked even angrier than the two monsters escorting me. It started yelling in their ear-piercing tongue, becoming more reverent with every jarring shriek. Something was wrong.
I glanced at the elevator doors, wondering if I could pry them open and enter while they were arguing.
When I risked a glance at the Hellions again, the Vesper’s guard was pointing at me. My own guards turned to look at me, their gazes suddenly shifting down to my bag.
Oh no.
I turned and grabbed the elevator door with both hands, dragging it open. Sharp hands clamped on my shoulders and pulled me away. I landed on the slick onyx floor, sliding a little on my back. The Hellions surrounded me, shrieking so loud I thought their cries would make my ears blurred. I shoved my hand into my bag and scrambled to find another tube. My fingers brushed against dozens, finally closing around the one I needed. The Hellions lunged down as I drew it out. Rather that unscrew the caps and load the charge, I closed my eyes and slammed the glass tube against the floor.
The flashbang’s effect worked just as well.
Brazen white light erupted around me, visible even through my closed eyelids. The Hellions reared back and screamed, unprepared for the blazing flash. I rolled away and sprang to my feet, using the precious seconds I had to yank open the elevator gate. The cumbersome metal screeched in protest, allowing only enough room for me to slip through. It snapped closed behind me. I staggered forward and pushed the buttons for the ninth level and the basement.
A heavy weight slammed against the elevator gate. I jumped and choked on a scream. One of the Hellion guards was throwing itself against the gate, trying to pry it open. But the elevator was already descending. I pressed my back to the wall as the elevator sailed down all too slowly. My heart raced, blood pounding through my veins. I watched the furious face of the Hellion drift out of sight until it was gone all together.
Relief didn’t come.
Somehow, the Hellion guards found out what I was doing. The Vesper must have used his mental link when he heard the commotion to look through the eyes of my guards and warn other Hellions. All of them would find a way to the basement, thinking I would tamper with something down there. They wouldn’t be wrong. The guards in the basement had no doubt been warned by now. They would catch me and keep me trapped until the Vesper followed their mental link and punished me himself.
I could use the transmitter for the Volt now, but I wouldn’t survive the blast. I would definitely die, assuming everything went as planned. The elevator seemed to move faster than before.
My heart hammered. Faces flashed through my mind. Gentle smiles, smart mouths, blonde curls, tawny eyes. Tears formed in my eyes.
I didn’t want to die.
The elevator jolted to its first stop. The docking bay. A Hellion screamed in the distance. I spotted it charging toward me through the bars of the elevator door. It would be on me in seconds. The transmitter was tucked in my bag, but I didn’t have time to find it. Not with the Hellion’s war cry drawing more allies. The skiffs were being abandoned in the distance.
I needed to get on one and escape if I was going to try this again.
I twisted the caps off the top and bottom of the flashbang. Six Hellions were now approaching me. Gripping the glass tube with one hand, I used the other to pull open the gate of the elevator. I hurled the flashbang at the approaching Hellions. I watched it flip end over end until it reached the floor. The Hellions didn’t try to stop it. They didn’t know what it was.
Just before the flashbang crashed into the ground and exploded into stark white light, I covered my eyes and ran to the left. I didn’t open my eyes until I heard the raspy screams of the Hellions. I raced through the docking bay, filled with crates and messy workstations. I stayed close to the wall, behind the crates, watching the monsters from the corner of my eye. They were still disoriented.
I forced myself to run faster, though fatigue was slipping through the cracks of my strength. If the Vesper hadn’t been draining my blood every chance he had, I would have been faster.
But the skiffs were close. Thirty more feet, and I would be at the one closest to the door.
In the middle of the docking bay, the Hellions continued to scream. The tone shifted, becoming less pained and more aggressive. They would regain their eyesight soon.
I passed a gasoline tank attached to the wall. I paused to unbuckle the straps holding it in place. A Hellion screamed close by. I yanked harder on the tank. Sweat covered my palms and made my grip slippery.
