by C. M. Hayden
Much to her astonishment, the doors opened and recruits flooded to Taro’s bedside. Each of them was dressed in a full artificer uniform, blue with silver trim, a short over-cloak, and a single silver shoulder pad.
“That was incredible,” Corin said.
“Did you really take down that construct by yourself?” Edrin said.
Ven extended his arms and pushed them back. “Give the man some breathing room. How’re you feeling, Taro?”
“The medicine’s helping.” Taro rolled his shoulder and stretched.
“Ross is furious,” Ven said, with a wide, wicked grin.
“Did we do something wrong?”
“I’d say so. The entire year passed the trial, and we made the magisters look like a bunch of idiots.”
“What do you mean?”
“The goal of the trial was for one of the teams to bring back the artifact. They didn’t plan on both teams returning. You may have broken the artifact, but it working was never a requirement.” Ven pointed to a single line tattooed above his wrist. “We’re all artificers now.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Almost a week,” Suri said.
Taro couldn’t believe it. “A whole week?”
Magister Ross appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat. She was holding a package under her right arm. “Melinda, I wasn’t aware that this many visitors were allowed in the infirmary at one time.”
The nurse dropped what she was doing. “I didn’t see any harm.”
“Disperse,” Ross said. The boys and girls left in a hurry, and Ross strolled to Taro’s bedside and set the package on the foot of his bed. “I thought I’d bring you your uniform, in person.”
“Thank you.”
“Quite a show out there. We were monitoring your progress the entire time, of course. Interesting that you knew exactly the path to take to find the artifact. You didn’t even hesitate.”
Ross stared down at Taro, like he was something she’d scraped off her boot.
“I just had a feeling.”
Ross took a seat and crossed her legs. “What’s particularly interesting is that I had reason to believe someone had been snooping around my workshop.”
Taro stared right back at her. “I imagine your office has enchantments to keep that from happening. Beyond anything a recruit could break.”
“Recruits can be full of surprises.”
“Something tells me that if you had any proof, we wouldn’t be having this pleasant chat.”
“I’m not here for accusations, Mr. Taro. In fact, I commend your tenacity. However, I couldn’t help but notice your handicap.”
Taro peered down at his missing foot. “Your point?”
“So defensive. I merely mean that we can’t have an artificer on crutches. Kyra has been hard at work, constructing you a suitable replacement. When you’re well enough, pay her a visit.” Ross stood. “I hope you enjoy your celebrity status. You can be sure that I’ll be watching you very closely, Mr. Taro.”
With that, Ross left, and the nurse breathed a sigh of relief.
“A gem, that one,” she said.
“Do I have to stay here for long?” Taro asked.
The nurse checked his bandages again and examined what was left of his burns. “The rub’s working well. If you can promise to come back, once a day for the next three days, and to keep your bandages tight, you can go now.”
The nurse brought him a crutch and helped him up.
Ven was waiting, alone, outside the infirmary doors.
“Eavesdropping?” Taro said.
“Me? Never. Although it does sound like Ross has you pegged.”
They walked together toward the Artificium. A dozen yards in, his crutch got caught on one of the gears in the floor. Taro yanked it out. “God, I hate these things.”
“Do you need help?” Ven said cautiously.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I promised Suri I’d meet her at the Librarium, in a few. Are you sure you’re all right on your own?”
Taro waved him away and continued to the Artificium alone. Tucked in one of the work alcoves was the iron-braced chasse of an airship turbine. Around the edges were cabinets and drawers in various stages of clutter. Kyra was hanging from a crane with a pair of goggles on, welding one of the turbine fans with her bare fingers. The raw templar required for such an act made Taro’s head spin. When she noticed him, she lifted her goggles onto her forehead and lowered to the floor.
“Would you look at that, I get a visit from the Magisterium’s newest celebrity.”
“The Imperator said that you had something for me.”
“And so I do.” Kyra wiped the soot off her cheek and hurried to one of her worktables. On it was a metal prosthetic with a deep groove in the top where Taro’s leg would fit in. The base foot and heel were joined by a spherical hinge that allowed full freedom of movement, and could also do something Taro’s old prosthetic had never been able to do: tilt and turn.
“Take a seat,” Kyra said. She cleared a chair of wrenches and bolts, rolled it up to the worktable, and loosened a bolt at the top of the prosthetic.
“It looks heavy,” Taro said.
“It is a bit heavier than your last one, but you’ll get used to it.” Kyra pointed to some small flexible needles in the groove on top. “These pins will tie it directly into your body.” She talked idly while she set the prosthetic up. “Some show out there. We were all watching.”
“How?”
“We had our ways. This trial was more one of circumstance. That construct has guarded that Waystation for a long time. It used to be a peaceful protector. Recently, it was damaged—nobody is sure how. The damage somehow allowed the artifact to affect it.”
“It went crazy.”
“In a manner of speaking.” Kyra finished tightening the bolts on the side, and propped Taro’s leg up onto an ottoman.
“You made this for me?” Taro asked.
“Briggs had a similar version, though I’ve made some significant upgrades. Slip your leg inside.”
Taro did so, and Kyra placed her hand on a lever on the heel.
“You’re going to feel a pinch as the nerves connect. Ready?”
“Ready.”
When she pulled the lever down, Taro felt the pins push through his skin. The pain was sharp, but lasted only a moment. When it was gone, Kyra motioned for him to stand.
Taro could hardly believe how light it felt. He tested it out, tilted it forward, and finally walked.
“How fast can I go with it?”
“As fast as your body can take,” Kyra said.
Taro walked, ran, and jumped around the workshop before finally stopping just in front of Kyra and hugging her so tightly, he lifted her off the floor.
He quickly set her down. “Sorry.”
Kyra laughed. “It’s okay. A lot of people have that reaction.”
“It’s just...I’ve never been able to really jump before.”
“Remember to oil it once a month, and tighten the side pins regularly, as they’ll loosen from normal wear and tear. If you have any problems with it, come back for maintenance. Got it?”
When Taro got to the mess hall, he was bombarded with praise the moment he stepped through the door. He grabbed a tray of steamed vegetables and honey ham and sat beside Yoresh.
“What do we have here?” Yoresh said, and inspected his new prosthetic.
“Kyra made it for me,” Taro said.
Sikes wasn’t far off, and he was doing his best to shuffle a deck of cards; but his hands were bandaged up to his forearms.
Taro moved closer to him, and they sat in silence, for an uncomfortably long moment.
Sikes spoke first. “I guess you expect me to thank you.”
“No.”
“The magisters were furious that you broke the artifact. You could’ve been expelled for it. What would Dr. Halric have done to your family then?”
“You are my family.”
> “Don’t give me that bullshit,” Sikes said.
Taro got up to leave, but Sikes stopped him at the last moment. “Thank you.”
Sleep came easily that night. Easier than it had in months. Nima was safe and sound, his trial was over, his new prosthetic was a dream, and mending things with Sikes no longer seemed impossible.
It wasn’t to last.
Chapter Twenty-five
The Darkened Tower
Magister Briego had Taro and Ven assembling the locking mechanism for an artillery cannon. Kyra was overlooking the project, while the magister snoozed at his desk.
Taro held down the metal plate and reached to grab a hand drill.
“You know better,” Kyra said. She was passing through the workstations, checking on each team. Different students had been given different parts of the cannon, with the promise that they could fire it when it was completed.
Taro huffed. “It’s right there.”
“No hands allowed.”
Taro stared at the hand-crank drill and pointed two fingers at it. It shook and slid at a snail’s pace into his palm.
“You’re getting a lot better,” Kyra said.
Ven lifted one hand and a torque wrench flew from the opposite side of the room, zig-zagged through the workstations and landed in his hand. “So much better,” he said cheekily.
“Yeah, yeah, while you’re showing off, I’ll do the hard part.” Taro used the vice to hold down the metal plate and drilled four holes in the sides.
Just as he was about to drill in the last hole, the lights in the Artificium went dark. In the darkness, every gear in the tower seemed to grind and turn all at once. Through the flicker of light from welding torches, Taro saw the walls flipping and the ceiling lowering.
Kyra quieted everyone down and conjured a tiny ball of light on her fingertips. “Let’s not lose our heads. It’s just a power outage. Stay here with Magister Briego.” Briego, meanwhile, still hadn’t woke up.
The main door was completely sealed, but there was now a gap in the wall, which Kyra slipped through.
“The room’s changing,” Suri squeaked from the darkness.
Taro thought back to what Mathan said, months ago. Was this the distraction he’d mentioned? He didn’t have time to mull it over. He crept away and slipped into the hall. In the distance, he could see Kyra’s light glowing.
Every corridor seemed to have shifted. The main hallways were closed off, an all of the mechanisms in the tower were dormant. Taro navigated three levels down, passing throngs of artificers being ushered into their workrooms.
“We’ll have this outage figured out as soon as we can,” Magister Aiden said. “For your safety, stay inside.”
The magisters, Veldheim and Aiden, sounded much more worried when they thought the artificers couldn’t hear them.
“The whole tower’s locking itself down,” Aiden said. “Haven’t seen anything like it since...”
Veldheim hushed him. “Not here.”
In the distance, barely audible, a low rumbling sound echoed through the halls. Taro dismissed it as just another corridor changing and continued his descent. Navigating the Magisterium was like understanding a large puzzle. Each corridor had at least three different ways it could be set. This seemed to depend on the time of day, and a bit of random chance. Right now, all bets were off. Taro couldn’t make heads or tails of which way he was supposed to go.
He knew he was going down, at least, because every so often he’d pass a window. Outside, crowds gathered around the Midway.
Taro shimmied through a maintenance hatch, and climbed down a grate until he arrived at the ground level, near the Blocks. The entrance was guarded by six warders, setting up magistry lanterns.
Ross and Sullen appeared from the hall.
The warder’s captain saluted. “The Blocks don’t seem to be affected.”
“The Blocks aren’t a part of the original structure,” Ross said. “Nevertheless, stay here. I want magisters in every sensitive area of the tower. I refuse to believe this is random.”
Ross started back toward the Curia, just passing Taro, who was squeezed into an alcove in the wall.
“What about the Arclight?” Sullen called. “Can Antherion handle it alone?”
“Probably, but I’m heading there myself, in case I’m wrong,” Ross said.
Taro couldn’t figure out a way to pass the warders; and even if he did, there were steel bars and, no doubt, a lethal enchantment on the door. The warders, however, seemed able to open and close it at will.
While Taro pondered this, he felt something against his skin. Hot, moist air struck the back of his neck, followed by a terrible smell, like the stench of rotting flesh. He turned his head, and it took a moment for his brain to take in what he was seeing, even though it was familiar: a hulking mass of flesh, tendrils, and eyes. It sniffed him and reared its jagged teeth, but trotted toward Magister Sullen.
The warders clamored to pull it off him, but not before it took a whole chunk out of one of their arms. Sullen grabbed his sword with his mechanical arm and shoved it clean through the creature’s body. It didn’t seem affected and bashed him into a wall hard enough to knock him out.
Taro leapt from his hiding place and grabbed onto the creature’s neck. The beast thrashed and kicked, but despite having easy access to Taro’s limbs, didn’t try to bite him.
It bashed its back into a wall, each time moving closer to the dungeon door. Just a few feet away from it, Taro let go. The apparition struck the door and a tremendous amount of visible energy erupted from the handle. The creature’s eyes popped and oozed, its flesh sizzled, and the smoking mass fell to the ground.
Taro checked Sullen and the warders’ pulses. They were all alive. He grabbed the cell keys, then lifted the lead warder by the shoulder to use his hand to bypass the enchantment. It opened to a winding stone stairwell lined with torches. At the bottom was a long, rectangular-shaped chamber with iron doors on each side and a cell at the end.
Each cell was occupied by a single individual. Eyes peeked out from their dark confinement, but aside from the mice scurrying on the floor, it was dead quiet. When Taro got to the end, he found Vexis. She had four iron clamps that pressed her body against the wall.
“Back again for some more fun, Imperator?” she said.
Taro unlocked her iron mask, and she gave Taro a significant look. “It must be my lucky day. They sent a cute one. I hope you’re not here to question me, I might have to spill.”
“Mathan sent me.” Taro continued to unlock her harness and wrist restraints until Vexis was able to free herself.
“Brilliant.” Vexis stretched and cracked her knuckles. “All right, what’s the escape plan?”
“I don’t really have one.”
There was shouting in the distance, and footsteps raced down the stairwell. Two warders entered with swords drawn. “Get away from her!” one of them shouted.
“I guess we’ll improvise.” She swiped her hand at the warders and the shadows around her lifted from the floor into spikes. They impaled both warders, killing them instantly.
Vexis placed a hand on them and shadows consumed their bodies, like a black puddle. From each, a mass of eyes and dripping fangs spawned. The void apparitions snarled and gnashed their teeth, as Vexis petted them like they were kittens.
“All right, lovelies.” She stroked an oozing tendril. “Cause some death and mayhem for me.”
The creatures barreled up the stairs and smashed down the door. Taro hesitated to follow Vexis up.
“Aren’t you coming?” she said.
“They can’t know I helped you.”
Vexis wrapped her arms around Taro’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Then let’s make this convincing.”
Taro feigned a struggle, and Vexis put her back to the blown-out door. Magister Ross and Kyra had blocked them off.
“Let the kid go,” Ross shouted.
“Move and I’ll paint the walls with the in
sides of his skull.” Vexis then whispered something so quiet, Taro was hardly sure she’d said it. “Hit me.”
Taro grabbed Vexis’ wrists and slammed her against a mound of gears jetting from the wall. He then punched her in the face and blood trickled from her cheek. She grinned deviously, and punched him back. This sent him flying across the floor, like he’d been struck by a cannonball. Vexis made a run for it, and Ross followed.
Kyra helped Taro up. “Are you all right?”
Taro spit blood. “I’ve been worse.”
“You should’ve stayed put.”
As she checked to make sure Taro’s prosthetic hadn’t been damaged, one of the apparitions lunged out of the darkness and sliced Kyra’s shoulder. When it pounced again, Taro stood in its way. At the last moment, it veered away and grunted.
It circled around, looking for a clear area to strike; but Taro matched its movements, until he was within reach of a Sullen’s sword on the ground. When the creature attacked again, Taro summoned every ounce of his templar and slashed at it, chopping off a dozen tendrils. It whined and slinked back into the darkness.
Kyra clutched her bleeding shoulder. “That was incredible.”
Taro tore the sleeve off his shirt and wrapped it around Kyra’s shoulder. “We need to get you to the infirmary.” Taro helped her up by the other shoulder.
“We should go to the Curia instead,” Kyra said.
It took only minutes to get around the circular hallway into the Curia. The chamber was set up to be a makeshift command center.
Taro helped Kyra onto one of the benches, and a medic sliced the cloth off her arm, looked it over, and slathered a mixture onto her cut. Kyra squeezed Taro’s wrist so hard that his hand went numb.
“Will she be okay?” he asked.
“It’s just a flesh wound.” The medic rummaged through his instruments and moved to a patient in a more severe condition.
Magister Ross entered the Curia, sweating like she’d just run a marathon. She grabbed the back of a bench, and her grip sent cracks through the backrest. “I shouldn’t have left her alive.”
“That was a void apparition, wasn’t it?” Taro asked. “Like the ones in the book I showed you.”
Ross nodded. “Vexis must’ve summoned it, somehow.”
