by Clayton Wood
“Tet, mogo myki ohele!” Kalibar shouted.
Kyle grimaced, moving faster down the hallway toward Goran and the Battle-Weavers, who had created another light further down the hallway. Then Kyle stepped on something hard and uneven, and his ankle rolled. He cried out, dropping Ariana and tumbling to the ground.
“Rendi gomas raytar!” Kalibar shouted, stopping to extend a hand. Kyle grabbed it, pulling himself onto his feet – or rather, his good foot. His left ankle throbbed terribly, and putting even the slightest weight on it was agonizing. He limped forward, gritting his teeth against the pain. Kalibar gestured at Goran, who turned about and grabbed Kyle, wrapping one arm around his waist. Kalibar picked up Ariana, and they moved forward together, Kalibar – his entire body glowing blue – trailing behind. Kyle looked down, realizing he'd tripped on a pile of rocks laying on the floor. In fact, the rocks were scattered all about him. He frowned, then glanced upward, and saw a large hole in the ceiling above.
“Kalibar, look!” Kyle urged, pointing at the hole. Kalibar stared at Kyle in confusion, then followed Kyle's finger; the hole led to a dark chamber above, its features hidden in shadow. Kalibar dropped Ariana to the ground, then stopped the Battle-Weavers coming back up the tunnel toward them with one outstretched hand.
“Safinda waria nib nill,” he ordered. The Battle-Weavers nodded, a large ball of burning punk appearing on the ground some ten feet from where they stood. Seconds later, the magic light above the Weavers' heads winked out, blue light shooting out of their bodies. “Vae sus!” Kalibar shouted, pointing upward. The hole was barely visible in the long shadows cast by the punk.
One of the Weavers ran up to the wall below the hole, bracing himself against the wall. Kalibar handed Ariana to one of the other Weavers, then climbed up the first Weaver’s body, grabbing the ledge above and hauling himself upward with remarkable swiftness. Goran followed, trying to pull himself upward, but he was nowhere near as fit as Kalibar; the Grand Weaver extended a hand from above, pulling Goran upward through the hole. Kalibar gestured for Kyle to come next.
Kyle hobbled up to the Weaver's back, the other Weaver lifting Kyle up by the waist and propping Kyle on the first Weaver's shoulders. Kalibar and Goran grabbed Kyle by the wrists, hauling him up through the hole in the ceiling, then setting him down on the narrow ledge above.
“Thanks,” Kyle mumbled. Then he remembered that his earring was out of magic; no one could understand him. He streamed what little magic he had left to it.
“Get Ariana, lift her up,” Kalibar ordered. The Battle-Weavers lifted Ariana up, propping her against the wall. Kalibar and Goran reached down, gripping her under the armpits and hauling her upward. She flopped like a rag doll on the floor above. Kyle felt fear grip him; her eyes were open, but she was staring blankly off into space.
“Come on,” Kalibar urged, gesturing for the Battle-Weavers to follow. The three men were outlined in blue light, the magic draining from them. One of the Weavers glanced down the hallway, his face paling. Then he turned to Kalibar, saluting crisply, and ran down the hallway anyway. The other Weaver hesitated, then did the same, ignoring Kalibar's order and sprinting away.
“Damn it!” Kalibar cursed.
“What are they doing?” Goran demanded.
“Leading the Void sphere away from us,” Kalibar replied grimly. He stood up then, turning away from the hole. “Come on,” he ordered. “We can't let their sacrifice be in vain.”
Kalibar picked up Ariana then, carrying her on his shoulder and slipping into the darkness ahead. Kyle squinted, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, and realized that there was a faint outline of a rope ladder next to the wall ahead, a single rope with knots tied at regular intervals. Kalibar ran to it, scaling it carefully; within moments, he'd vanished into the perfect darkness above. Goran followed suit, and Kyle limped toward the ladder, waiting for the Councilman to start climbing before gripping the thick rope in his hands and pulling himself upward. He favored his bad ankle, using his arms to haul himself upward one knot at a time. For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt grateful for his slight build; that, and his hobby for climbing trees in his backyard. He'd been rather cruelly made fun of for both in school, but now all the jeers rang hollow.
Upward he went, his biceps burning with the effort. He ignored the pain, grabbing the rope with one hand above the next knot, then the other hand, gripping the rope between his thighs as he went. It wasn't long before he couldn't see anything at all; he climbed the rope blindly, trying to ignore the rising fear within him, the terror of what horrors might lurk in the darkness around him. He focused on the rope, just him and the rope, counting each knot as he ascended.
One, two, three...
He glanced down as he went, and was thankful that all he could see was darkness. Then he saw a flash of blue light below, which vanished as quickly as it had come. Even with the momentary illumination, there was no telling how high up they'd climbed, but he knew it was high enough that one wrong move would be fatal. If the Void sphere activated its gravity fields now, he would never be able to hang on.
...four, five, six...
He felt the rope vibrate once, then again, then felt hands grabbing his wrists and tugging him upward. He held fast to the rope, terrified of letting go, of falling into the void below.
“Let go,” a voice hissed. He realized it was Goran's.
Kyle paused, then released one hand from the rope, feeling himself rising upward. He let go with the other hand, half-expecting to fall, but he did not. He felt his knees scrape against something hard, then felt his belly sliding on cool stone. He rolled over onto his back, sweat pouring from his forehead, stinging his eyes. He blinked against the darkness, then struggled to weave the light pattern. A white light flared up overhead, and dim as it was, he still had to squint until his eyes adjusted. They were in a narrow corridor, a ragged hole in the stone floor marking where they'd come from. The walls were made of gray stones mortared together, the ceiling some ten feet high. Kyle's magical light cast long shadows across the floor.
“Where are we?” Goran asked.
“No idea,” Kalibar answered. “Kyle, I don't have any magic,” he added, turning to Kyle. “Can you send your light forward?” Kyle nodded, casting his light forward, scanning the narrow corridor beyond. The hallway was some twenty feet long, a simple stone staircase at the end. Kalibar strode toward it, Ariana still draped over his shoulder, and gestured for Goran and Kyle to follow. Goran wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist, helping him hobble along behind Kalibar; still, he nearly tripped over a long metal pole laying on the ground, sending it rolling off to the side. They reached the staircase, Kyle hopping on his right leg from step to step. The stairs turned left, then left again, rising upward to meet a large metal door. Kalibar stopped before it, twisting the doorknob, but it didn't budge.
“Locked,” Kalibar murmured. He shook his head in frustration. “I still can't weave any magic,” he added. He turned to Kyle. “What do you have left?”
“Not much,” Kyle admitted. Kalibar grunted, lowering Ariana from his shoulder. He sat her down on the landing before the door, propping her against the wall. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes still open, staring blankly ahead. Kyle frowned, peering closely at her; her forehead was glowing with the faintest of blue lights. He frowned, stepping backward, and realized that subtle rays were shooting from the walls and the floor – even the metal door – and were coalescing at Ariana's forehead.
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Kalibar,” Kyle whispered, pointing at Ariana. “Look!”
Kalibar stared down at Ariana, then gasped, crouching beside her. He put a hand on her cheek, patting it gently but firmly. Ariana's eyes fluttered again, then opened, her pupils slowly converging on Kalibar.
“I think she needs magic,” Kyle guessed.
“What are you talking about?” Goran asked. “What's wrong with her?”
“Kyle's right, she needs magic,” Kalibar answered.
Goran looked ready to ask another question, but Kalibar cut him off. “Go ahead Kyle,” he urged.
Kyle nodded, closing his eyes and pulling magic into the center of his mind's eye. At first nothing happened, what little free magic he had still being streamed to his light. But he pulled harder, sensing the magic slowly building within the bones of his skull, so close yet so difficult to access. A thread appeared, and Kyle pushed it toward Ariana's forehead.
Ariana's eyes widened, and she gasped.
Ariana!” Kyle blurted out, shaking her slender shoulders. She turned her eyes toward him, but not her head. He grasped desperately for more magic, thrusting what little he could toward her. Ariana's leg jerked, then her arms, and she gasped again, turning her head to face Kyle.
“What...” she mumbled. Then she groaned, clenching her fists, then relaxing them. “Where am I?”
“You fell asleep,” Kalibar answered, glancing at Goran, then turning back to Ariana. “We need you to do something for us.” Ariana nodded, rising slowly to her feet. Kyle shoved the last bit of magic he had at her, then rose to stand at her side, putting all of his weight on his good ankle.
“What?” she asked.
“Can you open this door?” Kalibar asked, pointing to the heavy metal door. Ariana turned to it, then shrugged noncommittally.
“I'll try.”
“Are you joking?” Goran asked incredulously. “That thing is made of solid metal,” he added. Kalibar didn't respond, nodding at Ariana, who stepped up to the door, putting her delicate fingers on the metal knob. She pulled, but nothing happened. She glanced at Goran, then at Kalibar.
“It's okay,” Kalibar encouraged. “Go ahead.”
Ariana nodded, turning back to the door, her fingers curling around the knob, the muscles of her forearm tensing. The knob dented inward slightly under her grasp, the metal creaking under the strain. There was a sudden cracking sound, and the knob snapped, falling off the door and striking the stone landing with a loud clang. She ignored this, reaching her hand through the hole the knob had left, then pulling. The door creaked, the metal bending inward toward her. There was a snap, and the door swung inward, Ariana nearly falling backward down the stairs in the process. She managed to hang on, slamming her back into the wall to the side.
Goran stared at her, his jaw slack.
“Come on,” Kalibar prompted, smirking at the Councilman. But instead of opening up into a hallway or room, there was a stone wall behind the door.
“Wait,” Goran exclaimed. “What's a wall doing here?”
“Ariana, can you get us through this?” Kalibar asked. “We don't have any magic.” Ariana stared at the wall skeptically. Then she turned about and ran down the stairs. A moment later, there was a loud clanging noise. Ariana returned shortly thereafter, a long metal pole in her hands. It was, Kyle realized, the metal bar he'd tripped on earlier. Everyone stepped back, giving Ariana plenty of room to work, and she slammed the butt of the pole into the stone, breaking off a small chunk of mortar. She struck again, then again, the ear-splitting racket forcing Kyle to cover his ears with his hands. Dust and pieces of rock flew all around her, forcing everyone else back down the stairwell. After a few minutes, the noise stopped, and Ariana's pale face peeked out from the stairway.
“Come on,” she urged.
Kalibar and Goran ran up the stairs, followed by Kyle. A hole had been made in the wall, revealing a long corridor beyond. Kalibar squeezed through the hole, Goran and Kyle and Ariana following close behind. Kalibar cast his light forward into the hallway ahead; the walls were stone again, but this time they were interrupted at regular intervals by long rows of vertical metal bars some seven feet high. Kalibar walked down the hallway slowly, gesturing for Goran to follow him. Ariana grabbed Kyle's hand, and he leaned on her, favoring his left ankle while following the two men. They passed one of the rows of metal bars, and Kyle peered beyond them, seeing several small, rectangular rooms.
“My god,” Kalibar whispered, lowering his light to get a better look inside one of the rooms.
“What?” Goran asked, visibly tensing. Kalibar shook his head, turning away from the room.
“Of course,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly. “It's so obvious now.”
“What?” Goran pressed. Kalibar turned to Goran, his brown eyes glittering in the dim light coming from above.
“This is how they broke out,” Kalibar answered, gesturing at the barred rooms all around them. “They were right underneath us...literally...all this time!”
“Who?” Goran blurted, clearly exasperated.
“We're in the middle of the city,” Kalibar explained. “...right above the evacuation tunnels, of all things.” He shook his head, a rueful smile twisting his lips. “If we live through this, remind me to strangle our city planner.”
“I'm about to strangle you,” Goran muttered under his breath. But Kalibar ignored the comment, turning back to Kyle and Ariana.
“We need to keep moving,” he stated, walking back to the hole they'd come through and inspecting it carefully. “If that Void sphere doesn't circle back and come for us, the escaped prisoners certainly will. And if they're smart, they'll search for us here.”
“And where is here?” Goran nearly shouted. Kalibar said nothing, but pointed to a series of symbols carved in the stone above hole in the wall. Kyle couldn't read it, of course, but Goran's face immediately paled, his jaw dropping. Kyle frowned, turning to Ariana.
“What does it say?” he whispered.
“Stridon Penitentiary,” she replied.
Chapter 25
The hallways of Stridon Penitentiary were long and somber, the walls and floors a dull gray under the light that Kyle levitated above their heads. According to Kalibar, they were in the sub-basement of the enormous building complex, an abandoned floor once used for now-banned experiments on prisoners waiting for the death penalty. Unlike on Earth, where responsible adults would never delve into the details of such things with children, Kalibar quite enthusiastically recalled the history of horrifying acts committed only a few decades before. The Ancients had not allowed human experimentation without consent, but it had taken a while for the new Empire to abandon its less savory habits. That being said, Kyle still recalled the prisoners who had died while Kalibar had his ring tested; apparently necessity outweighed other considerations when it came to the greater good.
In any case, the door to the abandoned floor had been long ago locked and mortared over, only a nondescript wall left in its place. The prisoners who'd escaped must have taken down the wall, dug a hole right down into the evacuation tunnels, and then made their way up to the Tower...all the while covering their escape route by recreating the wall. An ingenious plan, indeed.
The four of them continued down the hallway, Kyle putting more and more weight on his injured ankle as he went. It still hurt, but he was able to walk without assistance now. Eventually they made it to a dark, dusty staircase at the end of a long series of hallways, one that took them to the basement level. Not much different from the lower floor, this one held row upon row of barred cells stretching into the distance. Curiously, all of the magical lights on the walls and ceiling were out.
“They're all fed by massive magic storage crystals below-ground,” Kalibar explained, leading the others down the hallway. “A network of crystals, actually. If one is drained, others are supposed to take over...the fact that all of the lights are out means that the entire network has been drained.”
“Impossible,” Goran retorted. “There's enough magic in those depots to last a year!”
“And yet...” Kalibar countered, gesturing at the darkness around them.
“Where are all the prisoners?” Kyle asked. Indeed, all of the cells they'd come across had been empty.
“Good question,” Kalibar replied. “Only a few cell blocks were freed during the jailbreak last week...about eighty prisoners in all. This building alone holds six hundred, and the debtor's prison building holds two hundred.”
“We've passed more than a few cell blocks,” Goran observed, glancing about nervously. Kalibar nodded, frowning at one of the cells nearby. The bars had been bent to either side, forming an opening large enough for a man to squeeze through.
“We should be cautious,” he advised. Then he turned to Kyle. “Kyle, lend me your magic, if you would.”
“Wait, how did they bend the bars if all the magic got sucked out?” Kyle asked. He streamed magic toward Kalibar, giving the Grand Weaver what little he had left.
“The prisoners in this building were all Weavers and Runics,” Kalibar explained. “The most dangerous criminals of all. The magic powering the prison's security systems was drained, but that doesn't mean the prisoners were.
“Great,” Goran mumbled.
“Better give me your magic too,” Kalibar told the Councilman. Goran did so; no matter what the man's opinion of Kalibar as Grand Weaver, there was no denying that Kalibar was the best equipped to defend them.
“There's no one alive on this floor,” Ariana stated, walking at Kyle's side. Kalibar turned to her, a frown on his face.
“You can tell?”
“Yes,” she affirmed. “I...uh, have really good hearing.”
“And remarkable strength,” Goran added, turning to Kalibar. “How is that, Kalibar?”
“A gift from the same man who gave me my eyes back,” Kalibar answered, smiling at Ariana. “Impressive, eh?”
“Hardly,” Goran retorted. “This all-powerful being gives you eyes and gives her super-strength, all the while doing nothing while the city burns?”
“I don't pretend to understand him,” Kalibar admitted. Goran rolled his eyes, stalking off down the hallway. Kalibar sighed, walking behind the disgruntled Councilman, mumbling something under his breath. Kyle turned to Ariana, leaning toward her ear.