Chapter 44
S O R E N
I owe Liam after this.
It’s just as he said, they’re so fucking lax on security, the peninsula placing too much weight on Misery’s presence and the power of the fire mages.
Just as the objects created to alter my powers caught me off guard, the mages vastly overappreciate their capabilities.
I’ll gladly fucking remind them that they’re not impervious.
Climbing up the frozen, jagged walls, it’s one hand after another, the stone weathered and slick from the sea spray below. Thankfully, it’s not very high. The building we’re targeting is right on the edge of the small cliff. Windows exist like patches of darkness, unevenly spaced; they don’t even have any glass in them.
I’m honed in on one that feels like the room is empty. I take a grappling hook and toss it up to the window ledge, catching it with a solid clang. I test the line—taut and steady—then swiftly scale the smooth surface of the building, every muscle burning with focus.
It’s empty inside.
The wind whistles past my ears as I climb in. I grip the rope, pulling it into the room so I can use what’s left at my waist to add additional length, knotting it tight. I search the room for a better anchor to handle more than one person at a time—a bed is right next to the window, and I wrap the rope through the framing, tying a knot and then tossing the rope out. Tension is placed on the frame, the bed creaking slightly as someone clearly climbs up. I stand against it to prevent any scratching of the posts on the floor, bracing my legs.
One by one, the room fills with more of our people, until a few sit on the bed to add weight so I can move forward through the old apartment.
Exiting the room and into a hall, I peer out a window that faces the street; a cleaner, sleeker version of Skull’s Row, and much smaller. My whole body stiffens as I see a circular object being held up, flames wrapping around it like it’s alive.
It’s about fifty feet away, but its presence burns in my gut like a warning. This place reeks of fire mage magic.
At least we’re in the right place.
I can’t help but feel like there’s another kind of person present here, the energies all mixing together, but there’s a disparity. Whereas most exude a burning dedication, there are those who are tired, angry, and trapped. Perhaps workers, maybe?
Looking back over my shoulder, it’s so dark it’s hard to see who is near me, until I sense the man I want. As if he can tell, Basilisk looks my way and moves over, his gaze intensely eyeing the stone as if he can read the details of the place. “Do you feel other energy?” I ask.
“I do. I don’t trust their lack of obsession; it’s an abnormality. Let’s get to them first.”
We slip through the hall after taking Donna with us, since she’s knowledgeable of these people. I come to a stop when that heavy sensation is powerful behind a door just to my right, a golden, glowing line below the door to signify light inside. It’s unlocked as I turn the knob; people are chained to the walls, their bodies slumped on cots, faces pale with exhaustion. Their eyes snap to us as we enter.
“Speak a word and we stab you all,” Basilisk says, almost lazily.
The captives remain silent, staring us all down.
“Why are you chained up?” Donna asks, while looking around the room.
They exchange uneasy glances and seem very confused, but also, nothing in them screams loyalty to this place. “Who took you?” I ask one man, my instinct pulling me to him. Looking directly into the skull mask momentarily empties his mind as wide eyes connect with mine, until my words seem to mean something to him. “We’re Cinders. The men, anyway. The women are in the castle.”
“What?” Out of every answer, that was not what I anticipated. “I’m here to find a Cinder myself. A woman.”
The energy changes in an instant, intrigue flashing through them all, and one even motions with his hands for us to speak quieter. “We’ll help you if you get us out.”
“Where is their eternal flame being kept?” Donna asks, as if she has no patience. I don’t disagree with her, so I look around to indicate that I’m waiting for someone to answer.
One seems eager to speak, the same one I first approached. “Five rooms down, there’s an enclave which is guarded by them. That’s where their stupid flame is. It’s behind iron bars.”
“How protected are the mages?” I ask, not liking that some of them are starting to get anxious; the energy is drastically changing in here.
They don’t want to risk it.
“They ignite the floors if anyone gets too close. But it’s usually just one or two at a time,” he replies. “You can send me. I won’t burn. They’ve... tested us.” He speaks as if he’s overly eager, but doesn’t want to convey that too much. “I just want to go home . Please, I’ll help. They’re terrible at combat.”
That’s even more perfect. I turn to face Basilisk. “Let’s weed out the ones who will hesitate. We’ll use the rest to help.”
We move through the group, gauging their resolve in ways only a Sensor could. One man barely reacts, his round face impassive as the two of us pass him by; his heart, on the other hand… it’s conflicted.
I don’t need to know anything more; sliding out Jane’s dagger, gasps echo around the room like a window bursting open during a storm, the man in front of me only flinching as I cut at his garb and gag him, using some of the rope I have left to bind his wrists. He doesn’t fight it, seemingly hating himself for that, and I re-sheathe my blade. “For your own good,” I say.
When I’m about to turn to face another that I know will scream as soon as I make eye contact, I lunge at the man before I even look at him, hand at his throat as he claws at me.“We’re going to gag you, and you’ll shut the fuck about it. Do you understand?”
He nods, blood pooling underneath his skin, his bulging eyes wide as he can’t breathe. Basilisk gets to work before I can even let go, forcing fabric into the man’s mouth as we tie him up. He nearly slumps over when I release him, the color slowly draining from his face.
“Oh, thank the sirens,” one breathes out. “Thought he was going to scream at any moment.” It’s the one from earlier, a man whose features I take in as he becomes relevant: blonde, small beard, dark eyes. He glares at the one we just bound. “I don’t give a rat’s ass, Merle, if you want to be special ?—”
“ Enough .” I glare at the mouthy one, as we don’t have time. “What is your name?”
“Roy.”
I motion for him to stand on his bare feet, and he does so with hesitation, before I face Basilisk. “Stay in here with them. Keep them quiet until it’s time to move.”
A sinister play comes to life in his eyes as he scans the room, one of the Cinders lowering his gaze like he’s petrified of this; he knows of Basilisk.
Go. Opportunity is right here.
I guide Roy out, who is so springy in his steps from pure excitement I wonder how long they’ve all been here for. I motion for Donna to follow, and I hand Roy one of the spare blades at my thigh. “Do you know how their magic works at all?” I ask. “And how to use one of these?”
He nods. “I do, to both. The mages need utter concentration. It can be broken so easily, which is what that statue is for. It’s where they practice it, ceremonially, anyway. As long as you promise to come in behind me, I can get their concentration off, and you can finish them. I used to be a sellsword before they took me. I know what I’m doing.”
I grin under the mask. “Done.”
The effort is quick as he moves forward, the fire lighting up at Roy’s presence. The mages let out a confused scream when they realize what’s happening. When the whipping fires dwindle, I move forward, trusting every bit of this. It’s so fucking hot in here, but I ignore it as I dispose of one, and the other is already stabbed in the chest by Roy. I help him ease the body onto the floor, searching for the keys.
Glancing up once I find them around the waist of a mage, I examine what is more akin to a vault guarded by steel bars. My eyes fall on the chalice, its molten glow of the fire pulsing like a heartbeat.
All I know is what Donna explained to me earlier, that it’s a chalice forged in molten lava, cooled in sacred waters far from here. A mage donates their blood once a week to maintain the flame. To skip this step would be akin to injuring their god, and it’s how they command their power.
Donna comes in behind me. “That’s it. That’s the flame... There’s even the phoenix tears.” She laughs. “Cocky fuckers to leave it right there.”
“Are we sure it’s it?” I ask, starting to unlock the doors. “I don’t know shit about this. Could it be false?”
“Oh, it’s real,” Roy interjects. “It absolutely is. They leave it there in case they ever need to extinguish the flame, so they can restart it. Only if their god permits it, of course. But sometimes he does. Otherwise, they’re a slave to it.” His words sharpen with rage as he speaks, like he’s eager to use it against them.
“We’re going to hand that to you,” I say. “And you will threaten to douse the flames if they don’t cooperate. Do not extinguish unless we say so.”
That seems to bring forth a piece of Roy’s identity, the energy within him starting to even out in its collection of broken pieces. Once we’re through all the gates, I motion for the Cinder. “Take it, in case it burns us.”
He seems to want to question it, only for a moment, but this man is so desperate to get out of here, all concern flees with his common sense. With hesitant hands, he grips it as his body is flooded with apprehension—nothing happens. “It’s hot, but I can hold it,” he says, breathing quickly.
“Then we start rounding up the mages, and you hold those tears near the flame and tell them they choose their god, or Jesper.”
Roy is more than helpful, and the mages are like attracting a moth to flame, so careless in the way they enter this space as if it’s never crossed their minds that they need to be careful. As soon as they witness what Roy carries, they all nearly crumble to their knees and beg for him to be careful, that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Every one of them denies to aid in the razing of this city, which doesn’t matter to me. I just need them to be compliant, or dead. And if we can get at least one to help? It’ll save all our energy for battle.
If not, their bodies can burn in the fires we start.
One by one, they all return to this building to investigate the flashing of defiant flames that periodically occur as they’re snuffed out; some fire even grazes against my armor, but Donna was quick to ensure they didn’t live long.
A woman slowly approaches, her head shaved like the rest. She sees the bodies of her comrades, inhaling deeply as if confirming the most dreadful assumption. “What—I don’t. How did Misery not see this? Please, do not kill me. That would extinguish that flame,” she manages out, her nostrils flaring as her jaw trembles.
Already, I can tell she is more of a fanatic than the rest, some part of her even resembling Cypress in that way. “I’m the only one left. The others are on Darkwater. Please, do not put out that flame. No one will be able to replenish it.”
Darkwater? So they’re all heading to Blackwell’s ship already?
My heart races, my gaze moving to the windows to see the statue is no longer burning. We need to fucking move. “We want you to raze the city,” I tell her. “Either agree, or we’ll make it quick.”
She looks crestfallen. “There are families here.”
“That didn’t stop your kind from ruining mine ,” I say, thinking of Jane and her mother. Of the people she cared about in Coalfell.
Roy seems as if he’s about to pour water onto the heartbeat flame, and I have no intention to stop him. Fuck it. This is the last one relevant to us, and if he’s a sellsword, he can take care of any others we come across.
“ Please !” she shrieks, her palms flat out as she shows up her empty hands. “I’ll burn the castle. I’ll burn the homes, as long as we can warn the families to leave.”
“You will target the stables, the stockhouses, the soldiers, and the entirety of the castle, except for anywhere that might contain a vault or treasure. If anything falls in its way, you do not stop,” I press.
All she gives is a series of nods, the flame of her god reflecting against her eyes?—
Jane .
My attention snaps in the direction of where she has to be, her energy morphing quickly like she’s enduring something she’d rather not.
“Burn everything down to the harbor, then we target the castle,” I command, knowing Jane can move through the flames to reach the ocean—the perfect cover for her. “Let’s move !”