Chapter Fifteen
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Branding
The dungeon was dank and filthy, and its prisoners were restless, until they froze, motionless, as if time had stopped in its tracks. The only one that freely moved was Wynne, strolling down the hallway, taking his own sweet time, gazing into each cell. He examined droplets of water that had spilled from an upturned pail, stilled in place, congealed in mid air. He smiled. “It’s working.”
He opened a random cell and stepped inside, keys jingling. The prisoners in that cell were engaged in a suspended card game. He closed the door again and turned to a slave that was serving another guard in pause. The guard had been scolding the slave for some unknown reason, spit flung from his mouth, floating like the water droplets. Wynne looked at the slave, who looked irritated. His eyes were yellow and hazel, like two different snakes.
“I have to take a chance…” Wynne said. “This could end badly…” he predicted. He reached out to touch the device at the slave’s neck.
He was sick of death. But he had to find a way to help the White Herons’ mission.
He unlatched the device. It opened, and he gingerly tugged the spines out of the base of the slave’s neck, where three deep gauges were left.
Wynne grimaced and clicked the device shut again, careful to hold it on the edges, so to avoid touching the blood and puss that coated the inside. He hid behind a wall. With a snap of his fingers, time started again, the water drops splashed to the metal floor, and he watched the outcome of the slave and the guard.
The dungeon burst to life again, and the guard’s upraised hand dove to slap the slave across the face. The slave turned right back with a snarl. Needle like points came to each of his teeth. Scales rose from his skin, green and reptilian, and razor spines lifted from his back and his bald head. His long forked tongue slid out of his mouth with a menacing hiss.
“It worked!” Wynne whispered excitedly. Then he became serious. He had to intervene when the slave spit toxic venom into the guard’s face with no warning, like a threatened cobra.
Wynne sped to the slave from behind and swiftly slammed the device back onto his neck. Without hesitation, he blew a peculiar white dust from the palm of his hand. The dust was like diamond sand, but it floated onto the slave like snowflakes. Like a sleeping spell, the dust made the slave faint and topple to the floor in involuntary slumber. His fangs, spines, and scales receded and disappeared.
Wynne then tended to the guard, whose stinging eyes were streaming with tears and swelling shut. But instead of worry painting his face, Wynne brandished a triumphant smile.
Now he knew how to help the Enma.
Wynne slipped silently into Cinder’s cell with another trey of food. Cinder noted that there was much more food there than on his last visit.
“I thought this fellow would like to eat.” He explained, motioning to the stockade, where Music Man’s face was still covered.
He kneeled closely in front of Cinder once again, and held out a jingling key ring with an excited smile. “I have keys this time!” He whispered.
Cinder smiled at his enthusiasm.
He reached behind her and unlocked the padlock that bound her arm chains. The chains fell to the floor at her sides, and moaning, she gave her arms a good stretch.
“Wynne. Thank you.” She said, beginning to devour the food on the trey. He nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. She flushed at the affectionate gesture, but continued to eat.
Wynne took a hunk of bread and a glass of water from the trey and stepped over to Music Man. He pulled and let the black tarp flow to the metal floor, and took the bag from his trapped head. At the sight of his face, Wynne’s rosy eyes went wide as saucers. The glass cup broke as it hit the floor, bread crumbs scattering at his feet.
Cinder still couldn’t see Music Man’s face, but Wynne could, and he had never looked so shocked.
“I thought you were dead.” He said, staring at Music Man.
Then, for the first time since Cinder was imprisoned, Music Man spoke without a melody. “Have some faith in me, Wynnie. Did you really think I would die so easily?”
“But I saw! I saw you fall off the tower! In fact, that was exactly before Ardara…”
“Took your memory. I know. I remember.”
Before the reunion could continue, Cinder’s chains came to life, and rebound her, painfully tight around her wrists. And before any of them could wonder what happened, a device was chucked at Wynne, and it latched around his neck. The spikes shot into his skin and he collapsed to the metal, chest heaving.
Ardara emerged in the doorway for the second time. “Dacian was right to be suspicious of you, Wynne.” She said quickly. “I read the memory of the cell guard you helped assault last night. Very clever, using your hourglass gift to safely remove that serpent mutant’s restraint. Your little experiment went according to plan, but nothing else of yours will be so fortunate.” She lifted Wynne telekinetically, and as he hovered in the air, Ardara tore the uniform from his body, including belt and headgear. His hair string snapped, and his long blonde locks fell into his face and across his bare shoulders. She used her mind to disconnect the chains at Cinder’s ankles, and used them to bind Wynne’s hands. She let him plummet again to the floor beside Cinder. “I don’t know how you broke my power over you, Wynne. But you both will be punished.” Nyx and Dacian, now the two remaining favorites, came to her side, ready for any command. “How would you like to teach these miscreants a little lesson before embarking on your ambush mission?” she offered.
“We’d be delighted.” said Dacian, with his signature smug grin.
Cinder and Wynne both had their faces pressed to a wall. They were on their knees, with their backs to the rest of the boiler room, and their hands were tied behind them. Nyx had Cinder firmly held against the rusted, steam-warmed metal, and Dacian restrained Wynne in the same way.
Wynne knew exactly what these viscous Ardarans had in store for them. He’d executed this same punishment on several slaves when he was a guard. And he knew by experience that Ardara dirtying her own hands to do it would make it all the more excruciating.
“Cinder…I’m sorry. So sorry.” Was all he could say. I broke my promise.
Ardara was behind them, her high heels clicking the floor as she paced. “You brought this on yourselves.” She said.
Cinder craned her neck to look at her, Wynne’s apology elevating her anxiety. Ardara held two long iron rods in either hand. Cinder was terrified to realize they were branding irons. Wynne looked away, and clamped his eyes shut.
Ardara tightened her grip on the irons. They were cold to the touch. There were forges behind her where she could heat them, but she decided to display some power. The crown of both irons went scolding red and began to emit sparks.
Cinder saw that the iron in her right hand was a red hot T. The one in her left was shaped like the letter E.
“E for Enemy.” Ardara muttered to Cinder before viciously pressing the E iron to her sister’s shoulder blade. Cinder shouted in agony, her skin smoking where the metal scorched her. Ardara commenced, “And T for Traitor!” she ravenously branded Wynne’s shoulder as well, listening to his pained shouting.
Ardara tossed the irons aside, admiring her handiwork. The letters were burned black onto their skin, still smoking like a roast left too long in the oven.
“Throw them back in their cell.” Ardara ordered. “Now they are forever marked by their mistakes.”
Plenthin was just as Cinder had described. For miles, all that could be seen out the Day Star’s windows were dunes of rolling sand, as far as the eye could see. Only when the radar detected a water source could they find the oasis. It was gargantuan, like a palm tree jungle the size of a city. There were white buildings and runways for airships to land.
Jeremiah flew the Day Star onto a fueling dock, where a team was waiting to assist. “As soon as we’re done here,” he said to Orphenn, “we’ll go full speed back to the wastelands. Then you can save Cinder.”
“Gotcha.” Orphenn replied. He gazed out the pilot’s window at the dock. There were workers below like a racecar pit team, ready to fix any of the airship’s errors. There were food and necessity markets along the edge of the dock. There were other airships too, landing, fueling, resupplying.
“Alright, men.” Jeremiah announced through an intercom that sounded outside the ship to alert the workers. “This squad’s in a hurry. We need three loads’ replenishment while you’re filling the tank. And you. Yeah, you-I see you doing nothing over there. Considering our Supreme Commander is on board, I suggest you haul ass to that gas cap before Lady Celina revokes your fueling license. Yep, there ‘ya go. Tha-ank you!”
The men below got to work immediately and efficiently.
“She wouldn’t really revoke his license…?” Orphenn worried.
“Nah.” Xeila snickered. “Just a motivation technique.” Then, “Gah! Dad! I’m so hungry!” she said for the tenth time.
“You’re tellin’ me!” He countered. “Now my big ones are eatin’ each other!”
Orphenn turned to Celina. “So, this is like a giant gas station?”
“Pretty much.” Celina laughed. She still had Orphenn’s words stuck in her head, making her rethink her ideas of Dacian. What if it wasn’t? What if it’s something bigger than that? Could there have been a hidden reason for his betrayal? She couldn’t stop wondering, acting out scenarios in her head.
But her train of thought was interrupted by the resonant thud in her chest and eardrums, the kind one feels when watching large fireworks. The blast could be heard from inside the ship.
The White Herons rushed outside onto the deck, and saw that the airship at the pump ahead of the Day Star had burst into flames.
Orphenn looked above and saw a massive, dark airship drifting across the sky, closing in on the loading dock. It had a long rope ladder hanging down, and dozens of Ardaran soldiers cascaded down it and onto the dock.
A squad was evacuating the blazing vessel ahead of the Day Star, only to be met with another disaster outside. The Ardarans opened fire on anyone standing on the dock.
Jeremiah was off the deck in a flash of speed. He created a colossal force field around the burning airship and shrank it until every flame was suffocated, the fire snuffed out. As the force field evaporated, Jeremiah sped like lightening into the crowd of Ardaran soldiers, who were attacking innocent passerby. He raised his fist, then sent it smashing into the metal of the dock.
His squadron watched in awe as it sent a wave through the structure, until it was torn apart by the seems, iron bolts flying. It broke apart, leaving an incredible crevice. Many Ardarans fell into it, screaming their last breaths as they plunged toward the forest floor, miles below.
Sven came right behind Jeremiah, wielding a summoned crossbow in one hand and a spear in the other. He fiercely attacked, and his daughters barreled behind him, lunging and slashing with claws and fangs. The other squadron came to their aid, fighting with their gifts just as fiercely.
Orphenn looked at Celina. The two nodded at each other and made synchronized leaps into the air, their wings outspread. Celina soared up with an arsenal of Sven’s summoned weapons at her heels. They sliced through the air and into the bodies of Ardaran soldiers with razor sharp frigidity. Orphenn flew above, firing his silver pistol, after having finally realized his gold one was missing. He swooped down to knock a few soldiers off their feet, and rose up again to shoot them down. Each one of the silver bullets hit their targets without fail.
Cannons began blasting from the Ardaran ship’s hull. Jeremiah was quick to spring into the air. He vaulted with immense strength, at least as high as Orphenn was gliding, and he landed on the wide barrel of one of the cannons. He twisted the cannon off its gears, the metal crinkling beneath his might as if it were aluminum foil. He threw the cannon’s barrel into the Ardaran ship’s windshield with the power and force of a two-ton elephant. He dispatched the second cannon by crushing it inside a constricting force field. Sven took out third cannon with a bigger cannon he had summoned on the spot. Any remaining cannons were dealt with by the other squadron-melted down and torn apart with their powerful gifts.
Jeremiah leapt down from the ship and landed beside Xeila, where he held her taloned hand.
“Damnit!” Dacian yelled. Nyx had nearly been pulverized by the cannon that crashed through the windshield. The two of them had only just escaped a painful death. Then the other cannons were destroyed, obliterated, eliminated, and demolished. Dacian was having a bad day.
“Dacian, we need to retreat! All our men are dead already!” Nyx insisted.
“Hmph.” He defied, scowling as he pulled himself up, shattered glass sprinkling off his shoulders. “They still have me to deal with.”
Orphenn’s feet landed with a clang on the metal dock, when he had shot down the last Ardaran soldier. Celina touched down close beside him, signaling to Sven that he could send his weapons away. Then she stared up at the dark Ardaran vessel, realization struck into her features. She had seen Dacian at the wheel. “He’s about to drop a bomb!” she screamed.
Jeremiah took note of this. He held up his arms, and a diamond barrier surrounded the entire dock, monstrously large and strong, protecting them all.
Dacian fully expected the bomb to break through the barricade, but it was steadfast. The bomb hit and exploded on the crystal surface--dangerously close to the ship, Dacian saw. The blast blew the ship across the sky, and it was engulfed in the orange cloud.
Those beneath Jeremiah’s barrier were untouched, though Celina’s heart grew heavy at the sight of Dacian’s peril. When it was safe, Jeremiah let the barrier evaporate, and watched as the Ardaran airship turned and retreated.
“Your ship is ready, My Lady.” A worker bowed to Celina.
“Good!” Sven shouted immediately. “Now let’s get our asses out of here before something else blows up!”
“Prepare to evacuate if necessary.” Celina advised the worker, and those standing around him. They all nodded, bowed, and rushed inside the building.