She paused at the thought. Maybe it
was
something Jaxi could cut through. Sardelle had been too distracted by protecting the group to try—and maybe intimidated by the size too—but a soulblade could cut through things a mundane sword couldn’t.
Gripping the weapon in both hands, she was about to lunge forward when the leg she was glowering at stopped moving. Sardelle tilted her head back as far as she could, trying to see the glowing eyes, but the statue towered so near that she couldn’t see past its blocky torso. It had definitely stopped moving, though. Not just the leg, but the rest of the body as well. The arms drooped, and nothing new was fired from them.
The second statue, a dozen meters to the side, had stopped as well.
Someone should have suggested that earlier,
Jaxi thought, her voice small, barely a presence in Sardelle’s mind.
Like when they first started moving. It could have saved… much.
Sorry. I should have thought of that myself.
“Good thinking, Ahn,” she made herself say, though it felt like there was a weight sitting on her chest. Talking hurt. So did everything.
I should have too. I don’t… Sardelle, this isn’t my world anymore. These mechanical things, I don’t… I don’t understand them. I don’t know what to do when they’re a threat.
It was the most uncertainty and remorse Sardelle could remember sensing in Jaxi’s words in a long time. Maybe ever.
I know. I don’t blame you.
Sardelle wasn’t sure she could say the same thing for herself. Ridge couldn’t truly be gone, could he? That quickly? That meaninglessly?
“Are they down there somewhere?” Ahn waved at the trapdoor. “Should we go after them? Sardelle, can you tell? Are they… all right?”
“I can’t sense them at all. It’s possible the fall—that they… didn’t make it.”
Ahn’s mouth formed a silent, “Oh.”
Duck lowered his rifle, apparently realizing the statues were no longer a threat. He stared at the trapdoor for a long moment, then focused on Ahn. “Raptor, you’ve got two months’ seniority on me, on account of your prior service before entering officer training school.”
Sardelle looked back and forth between Duck and Ahn for a moment before she realized what was happening. He was ceding command of the mission to her. Something about that made Ridge’s death seem real, far more real than Sardelle was yet ready to accept.
Ahn was as practical as anyone Sardelle knew, and she almost expected the young lieutenant to snap right into leadership mode, but she stared at the floor in front of the lift instead, blinking rapidly, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. She had lost Tolemek and her commander, the man who had been a big brother to her for a lot longer than Sardelle had known him. Sardelle didn’t know if it would be appreciated, but she walked over and gave Ahn a hug. Maybe she just wanted one herself.
Ahn didn’t push away, but she didn’t return the hug, either. It was understandable. After a moment, Sardelle stepped back. She probably would have dropped into a weepy pile at any greater sharing of solace anyway. Mourning would have to wait.
“What are your orders?” Duck prompted after a moment of silence. “Go out or try to find a way up?” He pointed at the lift, the hole in the side of the door staring into dark emptiness.
“Up,” Ahn whispered, then lifted her chin, her eyes hard. “Up,” she repeated more loudly. “We’re not crawling out of here with nothing. Not after…” She shook her head and repeated, “Up. Sardelle, can you get us over the trapdoor and up the lift?”
Sardelle tried to keep a calm facade in the face of the young expectant gazes that turned in her direction. It might be a relief that she didn’t have to hide her secrets now, but at some point, she would have to explain the limitations of magic, or rather the limitations of the user. The mental strain it put on a person might be minimal after a good night’s rest and with no other stresses on one’s life, but now… She couldn’t keep herself from glancing at that trap door.
I see how it’s triggered. I can keep it from falling when you walk on it. Can you help me figure out the workings of the lift? That would be easier than trying to levitate three people up a shaft. And you’ve got the problem of potentially running into the bottom of the lift. Or having someone order it down while you’re
in
the shaft.
That thought filled Sardelle’s mind with a horrifying image.
“Give me a moment, please,” Sardelle said. “It’s more feasible to bring the lift down.” She hoped.
All right, let’s try this, Jaxi. It should be relatively simple, simpler than the statue machinery.
So you say. You haven’t seen the big steam machine in the room at the top of the shaft.
Sardelle closed her eyes and let her mind’s eye travel up the dark vertical passage waiting behind the hole Tolemek had made. There were four levels above this one. The lift cubicle itself was all the way at the top of the shaft, but she got a sense for the cable system that could raise and lower it. It didn’t appear to be automated—on levels other than this one, there were levers to pull that presumably called the lift down. There were also levers inside the cubicle itself. The machine room Jaxi had mentioned lay above the shaft, but the cables were fed through holes in the floor. It looked complicated, but they should just need to pull the right lever, right? Whichever one that was. This floor must not be used often. Maybe there was another way to access the mountain, and only intruders with lock picks or corrosive goo were invited through the main doors.
There’s a room full of hot air balloons at the very top. I think the peak of the mountain must open up.
That could explain why the outside gravel strip had been so narrow. It had never been meant for landing.
While Sardelle was thoughtfully studying the levers with her mind and trying to trace the various cables up to the machine room, Jaxi started pushing and pulling things randomly.
What are you doing?
The cable system engaged, and the lift started descending.
That
. Jaxi sounded smug. Then the lift stopped on a floor well above theirs.
Huh
. Jaxi pulled another lever.
A few clanks drifted out of the shaft from above. The lieutenants watched the doors, waiting expectantly. Sardelle was glad they couldn’t
see
the lift going up and down the way she could. There might have been numbers or instructions beside the various levers, but Sardelle couldn’t sense things in that great of detail. Jaxi might have been able to—she could allegedly read books in a library while buried under a mountain hundreds of meters below—but she wasn’t having much luck with the system.
There aren’t any labels; I would have noticed that. You probably get a tour when you’re hired. Here, I think it’s coming down now.
Sardelle might have laughed at the randomness of their infiltration strategy—and her lack of qualifications for leading a group of people through this technological miasma—but her soul lacked the capacity for humor at the moment. She felt bleakness rather than triumph when the lift finally stopped on their level.
“Is it safe to cross now?” Ahn pointed at the trapdoor, the outline disguised by the cracks between the tiles.
I think I’ve jammed the mechanism that made the floor drop away, but double-check, please.
Had I realized machines could make you polite, I would have locked you in an engineer’s lab centuries ago.
Sardelle found the gears and pulley system built into the floor beside the trap door. If she hadn’t been busy defending against giant statues, she might have noticed all that down there earlier. Or perhaps not. She wouldn’t have known to look for such things. She vowed to check around every doorway, stair landing, and cupboard for the rest of the time they were in the mountain.
“It’s safe.” Sardelle led the way across the treacherous patch of floor and ducked through the hole Tolemek had made. A lantern burned inside the lift cubicle, which was open on both sides. Nothing but a rock wall was behind them, but she was getting a sense of the installation layout now and knew that some passages opened up in that direction higher up. She supposed they wouldn’t find a map lying around anywhere.
There are some people gathering up on the floor we want to go to,
Jaxi said as soon as everyone was inside.
Maybe we should go to a different floor then.
The highest concentration of dragon blood is up there. In a small storage room, I think.
Sardelle imagined a dragon slumbering in a broom closet with a lot of syringe holes punctured in its hide.
I’d know if there were a dragon here. It would be sentient and have a soul I could sense. Also it wouldn’t fit in a closet.
I know. I was just… never mind. How many people are up there?
About six right now. They’re gathering for something, preparing themselves.
For us?
Maybe. Let me see if I can direct the lift to the right floor.
“There are going to be people waiting for us when we step out,” Sardelle said.
“Good.” Ahn had already reloaded her rifle, but she checked it again.
Duck nodded once, his face grim.
With a clank and a shiver, the lift started rising.
“How many people?” Ahn asked.
“At least six.”
“I’ll step out and go left. Duck, you go right. Sardelle, can you and your sword glow and attract their attention?”
“Yes.”
Keep us alive, Jaxi. We’re the bait.
Getting shot at doesn’t bother
me
.
Maybe I’ll just throw you into the room and let
you
glow then.
We’re almost there.
Are they expecting us?
They’re facing the door, wondering who it is. They were about to come down to make sure the statues had finished us off.
“Be ready,” Sardelle murmured as the lift came to a stop.
The doors didn’t open. Sardelle sighed. Would they have to wait for the guards to let them in?
Ahn pushed a button on the side of the door. The doors slid open.
People in this century are so smart.
Sardelle was too busy creating a shield to answer. She would have to be careful to cover Ahn and Duck as they stepped out but not block them from firing. If one of their bullets bounced back and struck her in the chest… Jaxi wasn’t the healer she was, so that could be a death sentence.
They stepped out, not into an open room or corridor, but into a haze of brown smoke that stung her eyes and throat and limited visibility to a couple of feet. She kept the shield up, and it was a good thing: guns fired and bullets flew out of the smoke.
I guess they figured out who was coming.
Jaxi added a silver flare to Sardelle’s shield, making the boundaries visible to anyone close enough to see through the smoke. At first, Sardelle didn’t know why—it would make her shield visible to their enemies too—but when Duck and Ahn started shooting around the edge while keeping their bodies protected, she understood.
Slowly, she walked forward, in the direction the barrage of bullets was coming from. The six people were split into two groups, kneeling and standing behind columns to shoot. Ahn and Duck wouldn’t be able to see them through the smoke, and Sardelle groped for a way to explain where their enemies were exactly. She could have attacked them, but not without dropping the shield. The acrid smoke was already distracting enough that she struggled to maintain her concentration. It bit at the insides of her nostrils and tears streamed down her eyes.
A cry of pain came from ahead. Someone’s bullet striking a Cofah, even through the smoke.
Sardelle kept walking and was halfway to the closest column when Ahn dove to the side, rolling across the floor and disappearing into the smoke. Though surprised, Sardelle kept going. She wiped her eyes, and the outline of one of the thick columns came into view.
Four rapid shots came from the wall to her left. Even though Ahn had gone in that direction, Sardelle’s first thought was that the Cofah had crept around them and were firing from the side, where her shield wasn’t up to protect them. But no, she sensed the Cofah ahead still, and, yes, that was Ahn over there. Shouts and grunts of pain signaled the bullets finding flesh. Two of the Cofah behind the near column crumpled to the floor; the third turned and ran, clutching at his thigh.
Sardelle shifted toward the other column. Bullets were still pinging off her shield, but the Cofah had figured out the intruders had split up, and they were firing at Ahn now too. Since Sardelle couldn’t extend her shield to protect her, not without blocking her ability to fire, she rushed the column instead. No need to walk when one could run.
Close your eyes
, Jaxi warned.
Sardelle did so, and a flash of light like a sun exploding erupted against her eyelids. The Cofah stumbled back, and the smoke vanished. Taking advantage of their blindness, Sardelle charged in, letting her shield drop and wielding Jaxi like the sword she was. The men knew she was coming and flung out their rifles, swinging them like clubs and trying to keep her at bay, but Jaxi cut through them faster than Tolemek’s goo cut through metal doors. She took one man in the chest at the same time as someone’s bullet slammed into the second’s forehead. Both guards dropped to the floor. Duck leaped into the fray and caught the third one from behind, pressing a knife to his throat. Ahn charged toward a corridor at the back of the room, following a blood trail.
“Be careful,” Sardelle called and almost ran after her, fearing traps under every floor tile.
But Duck’s prisoner was struggling, despite the blade at his throat. He opened his hand, dropping something, and more of the smoke spewed into the air. It must have surprised Duck, because the man was able to get his arms up and push the dagger away. He spun toward Duck, a blade of his own in his hand. Duck backed away, but clipped his shoulder against the column. The guard lunged. Sardelle lifted a hand, intending to throw a shield between the two men. But Jaxi attacked first, flaring, and blasted the Cofah with a stream of fire.