“And you?” Dayne asked.
Crenaxin the Dragon opened his horrible mouth and released a plume of flame. Veranix raised his hand and let the numina pour out of him, shaping it into ice and snow. It met the dragon’s flame over the sister’s head, canceling it in the air.
“I’m going to live up to my name,” Veranix said. “Go.” Dayne ran to the machine.
Sister Myriem shouted, “And so, vile one, you shall begone!”
She slammed the mace into the ground, and it shattered, releasing a blast of pure power that knocked Crenaxin back, high in the air. She flew back to the church doors at the same time. Veranix didn’t have any chance to check if she was all right. He had to act.
Veranix filled his legs with numina and jumped high, whipping out the rope as he went. Drawing everything he could through the rope, the cloak, his body, he landed on the dragon’s back while the rope coiled around the beast’s neck.
It was time to drag this bastard back to his cave.
Asti was trying very hard not to kill these constables, who were not extending him the same courtesy. They were all desperate to get inside the machine, to let themselves be drawn in and be drained of life to feed the horrible power. He would have been happy to let the zealots find their death in the machine, if he wasn’t certain that the end result would be horrible. He kept his eye on the creatures that were being further altered, and if they completed their transformations . . .
This neighborhood would be the first to suffer, but not the last.
He had already tried killing them, but they were surrounded by a nimbus of magic and power that he couldn’t penetrate with a knife.
“Eyes up, agent,” Satrine said, pulling another constable away from the machine. She had grabbed a set of irons off the constable and locked him up with it, pushing him into one of the others. “You’re drifting off mission.”
She talked like Intelligence. “Authorization?”
“Saints, I’ve been dark for fifteen years,” she said, knocking another constable in the teeth. She had pushed herself closer to Asti, so the two of them were nearly shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way into the cages. Minox was in the back of the crowd, wrestling with one constable in particular, while Verci was using his rooflines to tie up others, while sticking more to the ground with his paste shots. He wasn’t sure how long he and Satrine could hold this line, keep these folks out who were far too eager to die.
“Same,” he said. “A little over a year.”
She nodded, while using a pair of handsticks to protect herself from the constables and knocking them back. “We need to shut this down.”
“Don’t disagree. At least get rid of the other beasts that are changing.”
“Well, they are not the True Vessels,” she said. She then looked at him, like she was surprised by what she said.
No more surprised than Asti was by what he said next. “They do not have the Blood.”
“They are not the Infused,” Satrine said.
“And thus the Power will be rejected,” he said, still not sure where in his head the words were coming from. It was like they didn’t exist until she spoke, and then it was like he had always known them.
“It can be taken back,” she said. “For the Unworthy shall never hold on to it.”
“The Nine must be Contained,” he said in unison with her.
“How?” she asked. Then she scowled. “Grieson.”
“That bastard,” Asti said. She knew his old handler in Intelligence, and whatever just happened must have somehow been his doing. But he also understood. “Whatever this is, it isn’t going to hold, but we have to reverse it.”
“How?” she asked.
Dayne suddenly barreled in, shield first, knocking over the crowd of constables like they were eight pins. “We need to shut the machine down.”
“You think?” Satrine asked, her annoyance clear. “How?”
Dayne glanced up to the sky. Asti followed his gaze to the dragon creature flapping its wings while the Thorn rode on its back like it was an unbroken horse. “Sweet Saint Benton,” Asti muttered.
“Thorn had something. He said Verci should shut it down once Minox connects with it again.”
“Shut it down how?” Asti asked.
“The people in the cages are like wood in a firebox!” Verci shouted as he struggled to bind a few constables and zealots together. “Keep them out long enough, no fire, no steam, no power.”
“We’ll keep them out,” Asti said. “You all do what you can. Minox!”
Minox Welling wasn’t listening. His full attention was on keeping one possessed constable from killing him.
“Damn you, Oren!” Minox swore. His brother’s hands were wrapped around his neck, squeezing with all intent to kill him. “I expected you to be stronger-willed than this.”
“The Nine require the fire to be fueled!” Oren said.
There was something of fascinating curiosity to Oren’s desperate act of martyrdom. It wasn’t just that Crenaxin’s dark power had overridden Oren’s will so he wanted to throw himself in the machine, he had a reason to want to, complete with knowledge of the purpose he was serving. Did the command from Crenaxin that turned all these people into his zealots convey additional information beyond the spoken word? Did they intrinsically understand the dogma and rhetoric of the Brotherhood?
Minox wished he had time to explore these questions while keeping his brother from killing either Minox or himself.
Oren’s hands were wrenched off of Minox’s throat, and Rainey was there, throwing irons on Oren. “We need you back in the machine.”
“In the machine?” Minox asked. “To what end?”
Dayne shouted above the throng of would-be martyrs. He and Asti Rynax were guarding the gap between the spinning rings that allowed access to the cages and the machine controls. “Veranix said to do the same thing you did with Hence. Does that make sense?”
It did, even though Minox had been little more than a vessel following Veranix’s lead at that point. “I’m not certain I can achieve that, but if it can stop this, I will endeavor.”
Verci Rynax tossed a wound-up cord to Rainey. “Iron them, tie them up, keep them out.” He tapped Minox on the arm. “Come on, specs. Let’s save the world.”
“That’s a definite exaggeration,” Minox said. “But we should waste no further time.”
On an unspoken cue, Dayne, Asti, and Rainey all grabbed the throng of zealots and constables and pulled them away from the gap. Minox dashed through the gap with Verci, and they were underneath the rings, the cages, and the platform, where both the spikes and statues could be accessed, as well as the gear work.
“I’m guessing the spikes and statues can’t be removed,” Verci said. “But there’s the spike missing.”
“Which is where I fit in,” Minox said. He focused his intentions on his hand and placed it in the niche for the spike, urging it to flow into the space.
Unlike last time, where Senek had taken control over him and his magic, this time Minox was in full command of his faculties as his hand, and to an extent he, became part of the machine. He could feel the magic and other energies flowing and shifting throughout the device, whirlpools of the spikes threatening to pull him in. The statues like floodgates, letting the magic surge out to the changing beasts.
“What do you need?” Verci asked as he took out a tool to pry at one of the metal panels.
“I need to draw it all in,” Minox said. He took a deep breath and tried to pull the magical energy into his hand, into himself. But he couldn’t manage it; it was like pushing against the current. The magic wanted to go through and out, and he wasn’t strong enough to overcome it.
“What’s wrong?” Verci asked.
“The flow is too strong. I can’t get it to come to me.”
“Flow, like water?”
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“An apt description.”
Verci looked over the machine, tracing lines with his fingers.
“So we reverse it,” he said. “You said it’s going out through the statues?”
“Yes.”
Verci pulled a pair of heavy leather gloves out of his pack. “Then get ready. I’m about to do something stupid.”
“Mister Rynax—”
Verci had the gloves on, standing in front of the first statue. “Don’t worry. Stupid’s my specialty.”
He grabbed it and quickly spun it around to face inward. Minox immediately felt a shift in the flow of the magic. Verci winced and shook out his hands.
“Are you injured?”
“No, but it didn’t tickle,” Verci said. “Let’s keep on it, you keep pulling.”
Verci got to work, wasting no time getting the eight small statues turned around. With each one, Minox was able to draw the power away, draw magic out of each monster that was being fed.
“Holy saints, it’s working!” Verci shouted. Minox saw that the beasts were changing: teeth pulling back into their mouths, skin descaling, claws shrinking.
Then there was a massive shift in the flow of energy, from the platform. Minox looked up and saw that Veranix was on the platform, trying to pull down the dragon with his rope. Minox had no idea how the young man was able to handle all the magical energies pouring and swirling up there.
“Keep it going!” Veranix shouted. “We need to reverse it all!”
Even with the statues turned around, it wasn’t enough to pull all the magical energy back into his hand. At most, he could hold it at a standstill.
“It’s not enough!” Minox shouted. “I welcome further ideas.”
“Right,” Verci said. “I think . . . oh, yes, that’s it.”
“What?”
Verci pried open one of the panels to reveal the gear work in the machine and peered inside, then looked up at the rings.
“All right,” Verci said. “Remember in the Parliament where you stopped the whole machine for a few minutes? We need to do that again.”
“If I could, I already would have,” Minox said.
“I don’t mean completely, just for a minute. Just the rings. We get them stopped for a bit, then I can get in there and flip out the control shafts.”
“Which will do what?”
“Reverse the direction the rings are spinning.”
“I can’t do that and pull back the magic,” Minox said.
Verci called up. “Thorn?”
“I’m a little busy!” Veranix shouted. He was holding his cloak over his face to shield himself from the bursts of fire Crenaxin was shooting on him.
“What do you need?” Asti called from the gap.
“The rings stopped.”
“That’s imposs—”
Asti was interrupted by a horrifying wrenching noise, as the rings suddenly jammed in place. Minox felt a sense of immense relief, as the magical energies began to pool and grow inside him. He glanced over to the gap.
Dayne Heldrin had wedged his shield between two of the spinning rings and was holding it still.
“Hurry!” he shouted.
Dayne couldn’t hold the rings in place long. They strained against him, forcing themselves against the shield that he struggled to hold in place.
Verci Rynax crawled into the bowels of the machine. Up on top, Veranix was pulling on his rope, which surged with pulses of green and red energy.
“You lose that and Verci gets torn to shreds,” Asti said.
“I’m aware,” Dayne said.
Crenaxin squawked and screamed as Veranix kept reeling him in to the platform. “Save me, children! Save me from these heretics!”
The words made Dayne’s knees buckle, and for a moment he almost slipped, the rings moving only half an inch before he reaffirmed his hold on them. The zealots and constables, who had all been subdued and bound, strained and struggled as if the command had reinvigorated their desire. Some of them tried to break their own arms or legs to get out. Satrine worked to keep them in their places.
But that wasn’t the problem. There were a handful of the transformed beasts across the square that rose up and galloped toward the machine. From the look of them, they had all been nearly mortally injured, but Crenaxin’s powerful command had been enough to get them back up.
Asti stood in front of Dayne, knives out. “Keep at it. Not one of these bastards is going to touch you.”
The beasts leaped at Dayne, but Asti moved fast and hard, not only striking with savage skill, but taking the blows that would have gone to Dayne. Letting himself take the punishment.
Suddenly there was a shift, and the rings pressed at him from the other direction. It was all he could do to still hold them in place, as the change nearly knocked him off his feet.
But Verci had done it.
“Get out of there!” Dayne shouted.
Satrine dashed through the beasts, Asti, and Dayne to get under the rings, and in a flash her hands were in the panel. She yanked Verci out by the legs. As soon as they were clear, Dayne dropped down flat.
The rings spun with wild abandon in the other direction.
The last beast standing hurled itself at Asti, who ducked and let it crash into the rings, where it was torn apart in an instant.
“Tragic,” Dayne said as Asti pulled him out of the way of the spinning rings.
“I won’t cry over it,” Asti said. “Now?”
Veranix struggled to get Crenaxin onto the platform as the whole machine began to emit a pale white glow, and a high-pitched whine grew louder.
“We have to help him,” Dayne said.
Asti held up one of his knives. “Aim for the wings.”
Dayne understood. He hurled his shield hard at Crenaxin, knocking it in the wing. Crenaxin screamed in pain, though that was more likely from Asti’s knife in its eye.
“You said the wings.”
“I told you the wing.”
But the distraction had thrown Crenaxin off balance in his attempt to fly away, and Veranix was able to pull him onto the platform.
“Now!” he shouted.
The white glow and the whine intensified, and around the machine the eight beasts collapsed to the ground, now eight naked, normal humans.
Up top, the dragon was melting away back into human form, while Veranix wrapped him further in the rope, holding him down.
Minox screamed and collapsed, his hand falling out of the niche in the machine. Despite that, the rings spun faster than ever, the glow so bright it hurt Dayne’s eyes. He could barely see Veranix on the top of the platform, holding down the nearly human Crenaxin.
“Get out of there!” Dayne shouted.
“I need to hold him to it!” Veranix yelled over the whine, which was nearly deafening.
Verci and Satrine dragged Minox’s limp form over to the gap, pushing him out to Dayne and Asti. They crawled out next, as the orbiting rings wobbled and shuddered. Verci ran over and embraced his brother, while Satrine helped Minox to his feet.
The glow became impossibly bright, brighter than the sun, as the rings flew loose from their housing.
Dayne held up his shield standing in front of the constables and Rynaxes.
Then a flash of light, a crack of thunder.
Then nothing.
Dayne lowered his shield.
Where the machine had been, there was just rubble and scraps of metal.
“The Thorn?” Asti asked, still holding a tight grip on his brother. “Crenaxin?”
There was no sign of either one.
Chapter 25
JERINNE STARTLED AWAKE.
Her hand instinctively went to her side. She should be lying in a pool of blood, but there was almost none on the floor. And no pain from the wound.
She looked down—her tunic was shredded, caked with blood, but when she lifted it up: no wound. Barely a scar.
How was that even possible?
She got to her feet, noticing a strange amount of sunlight streaming down on her. The bell was gone from the bell tower, as was half the roof. What the blazes had happened? It was oddly quiet outside.
She opened the door to the narthex. It was strewn with bodies of the beasts. Eight or nine of them.
The cloistress.
Jerinne drew her sword and ventured out the shattered church door. The cloistress was on the ground, holding Jerinne’s shield on her arm, the bald man’s mace—the head now shattered-- in the other hand. She was just lying there, like she was sleeping peacefully.
The square was a smoking ruin, with a pile of rubble in the middle where that machine had been. The bodies of zealots and creatures littered the square, along with the church bell, sitting overturned on the cobblestone. Over near the rubble, she saw Dayne untying a group of constables, while Minox and Satrine were talking to other ones. To the side, the Rynax brothers—they were brothers, right?—were conferring quietly, looking like they wanted to stay out of the way of the constables.
Lockwagons arrived, and Jerinne watched as zealots were ironed and wagonned. An older man in uniform pulled Minox Welling into an embrace, and then did the same for Dayne, and then gave Satrine an awkward shake of his hand.
The fight was definitely over, and she had missed most of it.
“Dayne!” Jerinne called out.
Dayne looked up, and charged over to the church. The Rynax brothers started to walk over—more like limp—while Satrine and Minox took a bit more time finalizing things with the constables.
“Jerinne!” Dayne said as he bounded up the steps. “I . . . I was so worried that you were—well—”
“I think I almost was,” Jerinne said. “I think she—she saved me somehow.” She looked down at the cloistress.
“Why does she have your shield?” Dayne asked.
“I was hurt, and she . . . she wasn’t making any sense, but she touched me and locked me in the bell tower. And now there isn’t a mark on me.”
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