Dayne wanted to cry out, warn Asti, but before he could, the door flew open, one zealot falling out onto the floor. One of the men from the second room came over to him, to be greeted by a chair flying out of the first room, knocking him in the head.
Asti flew out right behind it, landing a punch, followed by a slash of his knife. Without even looking, Asti slammed one foot onto the chest of the man on the ground, and then shoved the man he was engaged with into the one behind him. They both went down, but Asti didn’t even stop. Two slashes of his knife, he put them both down, moaning and bleeding, as he pivoted into the two standing in the doorway.
It was horrifying and beautiful, watching Asti fight. It was the most visceral, violent, ruthless he had ever seen a man be. Animalistic. But at the same time, it had the purity of an animal, a wildcat with its prey.
The other men took their shots, landing blows on Asti, but it was like the man didn’t even care. He accepted their punches, taking the opportunity to land two back, slice open their bellies.
As he made quick work of the last men in the second room, one stumbled out of the first room, blood pouring out of his throat and belly and he fruitlessly tried to hold it in. He made it three steps before he fell.
Then quiet.
Then the sound of a wheel being turned, and the gate opened.
Dayne wasn’t sure if he could take a step forward.
Asti stumbled out, blood on his face and hands, his eyes sparked with madness and joy. Keys in his hand.
He went to other doors and opened them.
“Free, free!” he shouted, dropping to his knees. “All free!”
Then he started laughing. He laughed as Dayne approached, and as he let Dayne take the keys, his laughter turned to tears. Dayne glanced in the cells. Each of them had at least ten children, maybe more, shackled to the walls.
“All free,” Asti said, staring at his hands. “A gift from God.”
“Come on, Rynax,” Dayne said. “Let’s get these children out of here.”
Asti nodded, getting to his feet. In a moment, he had regained his composure. “Right. Job’s not done.”
“Gentlemen,” the Thorn said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You’re all out of bed after curfew, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to issue demerits.”
Jerinne had thought him absurdly cocky, to the point of annoyance, but she had to admit the Thorn knew how to stage a distraction. All the attention was on him, and with the machine chamber half filled with smoke, none of the zealots of the Brotherhood of the Nine were going to be noticing her slipping around the edge of the wall.
The Thorn moved like a rabbit, knocking the zealots with his staff, never still for a second. Even still, she knew he couldn’t hold his own against all of them for long. Time to do her job.
She rushed through the smoke, shield first, toward Lin. Free Lin first—her magic made her an asset in the fight. Then Welling, then up on the platform for Maresh. She charged through, knocking zealots out of her way. Almost to Lin.
The Thorn leaped high, landing in the mouth of one of the high overlook tunnels. From that vantage, he loosed more arrows into the crowd.
“You pest!” Senek shouted. “I will eat your liver!”
“Promises, promises,” Thorn said. “Come have a taste.”
Jerinne pushed through, reaching Lin, clocking her guard with the shield. She grabbed Lin’s shoulder, and at first Lin swung her shackled fists at Jerinne.
“Lin,” she said, grabbing her arm mid-swing. “It’s me.”
“Get Maresh,” Lin said. She held up her shackled hands. “I’m useless.”
“Got to get you out, too.”
“Maresh, please!” Lin cried. “Look!”
Jerinne looked up on the machine, to Maresh on the platform.
“Sweet merciful saints,” she whispered.
Maresh’s body had been twisted. Half his face green and scaled. One arm the size of the rest of his body. His back bent at an impossible angle.
Crenaxin was climbing up the machine to the platform. To Maresh.
“Come on,” Jerinne said, pulling Lin along. She had to get to him, no matter what.
Crenaxin reached the top, and casually yanked Maresh out of his shackles, then pushed him off the platform to fall to the floor.
“Maresh!” Jerinne screamed.
But the Thorn was there. He had flung out his rope, and wrapped it around Maresh midair, pulling him up to the tunnel.
“Enough!” Senek shouted. A blast of magic flew out around him, and the smoke all cleared. The zealots and monsters were all around Jerinne, drawing weapons. Closest of all was Gurond, the towering giant, though he looked dazed and groggy.
“This is the time!” Crenaxin shouted, now standing tall on the top of the platform. “We are ready to tap open our power! Make me your worthy vessel! Bow down before the High Dragon!”
The words slammed through Jerinne’s bones, and it took all her will to stay upright. Everyone else—the zealots, the monsters, Senek, even Lin—dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves toward the machine.
“We are ready for the blessings of the Nine! We are ready to tap into their power. We are ready for a bright new day!”
Jerinne moved toward Minox, forcing herself with every step. Her whole body wanted to obey Crenaxin.
“Begin, Senek! Begin!”
Senek stood and the whole machine began to move again. All the wheels, rings, and gimbals spun, whirling around the outside, faster and faster. Too fast for Jerinne to see. The spinning rings were right over Minox, but there was a narrow path to get to him. None to get to the men in the cages.
Men.
Those were children before, but now they were men, looking Dayne’s age. How was that even possible? What was this machine doing to them? What was it about to do?
Something shifted, and Jerinne could move again. She pushed forward, shield above her head, under the spinning
