Chapter 8

Ember, the Glorious Unconquered, shatterer of chains and toppler of thrones, stood in the doorway to his own bedroom, with his Ruby and his Amythest wife standing to either side of him, each gaping at the scene before them. Laying on his belly in the middle of the bed was Jerin Kah, the Infused Knight of Wood and loyal servant of the evil Regent. He had been stripped, hogtied, and was currently looking halfway to panicking, while Ceaith, the catgirl that had nearly gotten Ember killed several times now, stood behind him, pouring liberal amounts of lubricant over the purple strapon that she had slipped around her still clothed thighs.

The fact that Ceaith was also Ember’s Lapis, one of the five Lunar wives that he had been magically wed to the instant he had become the eleventh Unconquered, just made the situation more surreal for him.

“How did he get out of the brig?” Ember asked, pointing at Jerin.

“How did she get on this ship?” Chirp asked, glancing at the window that showed the swirling, infinite mass of the Sunder that spread out in every direction around the Starshrike.

“How did she get that strapon?” Xora asked, her eyes focused on the slippery, slick looking sex toy. Ceaith grinned at her and tossed the empty lubricant bottle over her shoulder.

“Will any of you help me?” Jerin Kah asked, whimpering as he craned his head back at the sound of the bottle striking the carpeted floor. “I’m not into this!”

“No,” every single member of the Solar/Lunar sextet said at the same moment, in the same tone of voice.

“To answer the questions in the order in which the were asked,” Ceaith said, smirking insolently at Ember, then slid up behind Jerin Kah. Her strap on bumped against his thigh as she leaned over, growling in his ear. “Why don’t you tell me what I wanna know before I show that pretty infused butt of yours whose boss.”

“Okay! Okay!” Jerin said, nodding hurriedly.

“Good, I-” Ceaith started.

“You didn’t answer any of our questions!” Ember snapped, stepping forward. “And you’re not going to just rape a prisoner. I won’t allow it.”

Ceaith looked at him, then mouthed something slowly at him. Ember’s brow furrowed. “I’m faking it? What do you mean you’re faking it?” He asked.

Ceaith grabbed onto her massive mane of brown hair. “Arrrrgh!”

“Hah!” Jerin seemed to relax instantly. “I knew you didn’t have the nerve, Lunar.”

Ceaith grabbed the strap and yanked it off, then threw it at Ember’s head. Ember ducked and Xora caught it. The strap vanished almost instantly and Ember stood up, glaring at the catgirl. “What the hell!?” he asked.

“What the hell? What the hell? I’m about to get vital fucking information out of this Regency lapdog because he’s scared that if a finger goes up his butt he stops being a man, and you fucking blow it and you ask me why I’m angry?” Ceaith asked, stabbing her thumb against her chest as she walked over Jerin’s back – casually putting her weight on his spine. Jerin made a sound somewhere between a pillow being compressed in a vice and a curse word. She stepped off the bed, getting as into Ember’s face as it was possible for her to get. Which did require her standing on her tip toes – while Ember was more lithe than broad, he did have a few inches on the other girl. Her tail lashed as she continued speaking. “What do you want to do next, give away the ship because a poor widdle godling got sad and pouted at you? Oh, you could try and fight the entire Regency army non-lethally, because kiwwing people is wrong.” She pouted, fluttering her eyes at him in a way that was definitely meant to be insulting.

Ember crossed his arms over his chest. “Jerin Kah has joined our side.”

“Right! Of course! An Infused Knight just switched sides, great job Unconquered,” Ceaith said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ember’s temple twitched as he scowled. “Listen. I’ve got just enough patience for one June, not two.”

“Considering how she’s the only hot one-”

“Hey!” Ember snapped. “Xora is super hot! And Chirp is even hotter! Except they’re the same level of hotness, because I don’t put any of my wives on a pedestal.”

“Wives, right,” Ceaith said, rolling her eyes. She put her palm on Ember’s chest, pushing him against the door frame as she stalked past him. “Tell me how that works out for you.”

Ember gaped after her. “Hey! You’re one of them!”

Ceaith, who had gotten remarkably far down the corridor in the short time it took for Ember to collect himself, stopped. Her hands clenched and uncleaned. The fingerless leather gloves she wore creaked around her knuckles. “What did you say?” she asked.

“You’ve got a lapis soul gem,” Ember said, stepping away from the door. “Ergo-”

Ceaith spun to face him. “I’m never. Ever. Ever going to consent to being your wife,” she said, glaring right at him. “I didn’t ask to be chosen to be the Lapis. I didn’t ask to be told that I’m going to be responsible for fixing up every little fuckup in the Land. I didn’t ask any of the gods for any of this bullshit!” She thrust her finger at him. “So if you think you can stick your dick in me-”

“I don’t!” Ember shouted back, stepping forward.

“What? You don’t want to fuck me?” Ceaith asked, glaring up at him.

“Of course I do!” Ember said, glaring at her, panting as their noses almost bumped.

Ceaith panted back. Energy seemed to crackle between them. Xora and Chirp watched from around the corner of the doorframe. Ceaith’s ears flattened back against her head as she glared up at him. “W-Well ... I don’t,” she said, her voice very definite.

“Then fine!” Ember said, stepping backwards, blushing as he crossed his arms over his chest. His heart was hammering a million miles an hour – maybe faster. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Ceaith asked.

“Fine!” Ember said, nodding. “I ... I’m not going to ... I don’t...” He closed his eyes, trying to think straight. Part of him wanted to keep shouting at Ceaith for how she had acted – both here and in the Goblin Market. But another part of him, the part of him that had spent his entire life watching people treat June like shit, said: Hey, hold on. Look at things from her perspective. She didn’t choose to have this happen to her. She didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this. But we got it. So, don’t be a dick about it. And so, Ember breathed out a slow sigh.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything, Ceaith,” he said, quietly. “But while we didn’t choose to be married, we are. T-Through magic.” He gulped. “And that means trying to make this work.” He held out his hand. “Partners?”

Ceaith opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then, almost more angry now than she had been early: “How fucking dare you be ... fucking reasonable about this!”

“What?” Ember asked, completely non-plussed.

“I ... was getting a good fucking angry all built up and you’ve shot a hole right through it. Dick.” Ceaith crossed her arms over her chest, ducking her head forward. Her hair was bristling outwards, like a cat fluffing up when threatened by a predator or a particularly ominous cloud.

Ember snorted. “You can punch me in the face if-”

Ceaith punched him in the face.

Ember blinked a few times. It hadn’t actually hurt. Her knuckles had glanced off his jaw and left his head tingling from the impact. He rubbed his jaw and noticed that a slight golden glow flickered around his fingertips – a tiny anima spark from where he had toughened himself up. He grinned. “Feel better?”

Ceaith rubbed her knuckles, then smirked. “Can I use my claws?”

“No!”

“Eh, it’ll do,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. She brushed past him, then paused, halfway between him and the door to where Jerin Kah was tied up. “If I can’t interrogate him, can I at least get what he’s told you about Iremire?”

“Iremire...” Ember rubbed his cheek more. “That’s where we’re going, Ceaith. We’re going to find out how the Regency makes Infused Knights.” He smiled. “We’re basically on the same mission.”

Ceaith paused. “Yeah...” She said. But he could almost smell she was holding something back. Ember stepped slightly forward, reaching out – every instinct he had wanted to sweep Ceaith into his embrace. To nuzzle up against that massive mane of brown hair that she had. To pet her. Gods. He wanted to hear her purr more than he wanted to breathe oxygen. But he clenched his hands and clasped his hands behind his back and tried to ignore the way Ceaith unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Why are you actually going?” Xora asked.

Ceaith snorted. “Ah. Right. Ember can’t ask cause he has to earn his Nice Guy points so he gets to fuck my gay ass.” She shook her head. Xora, her blue cheeks darkening, shook her head.

“No, that’s not-”

“My sister,” Ceaith said, quietly. “She was taken to Iremire. I want to find her. Okay?”

“Wait, did you say gay?” Ember asked, blinking.

Ceaith looked at the ceiling. “Yes. Gay. Like your friend June, I like pussy. I like girls. I like women. I like everything you’re not.” She turned around, scowling at him. “Got it?”

“Yeah!” Ember said, nodding. “I mean, sure. Right. Cool.” He coughed, then nodded again, holding out his hand. “I shall comport myself with, uh, respect! Towards your ... feelings. And not ... be...” He trailed off. “Bad?”

Ceaith looked at him. Then down at his hand. Then back at him. Her left ear twitched. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

“Man, you would get along with June,” Ember whispered.

Ceaith grinned. “Who do you think let me on board.” She licked her lips. Very salaciously.

Ember probed at his own feelings, the same way he might have poked at a broken tooth with his tongue. He tensed, half expecting every emotion that he had been taught to feel welling up. Jealousy. Anger. Humiliation. After all, Ceaith had basically just said that his best friend had fucked his wife, before he’d even gotten a chance to kiss her. Or touch her in a non-martial arts battle related fashion. But instead of feeling any of those emotions, the only thing that Ember felt in his breast was a growing sense of...

Pride?

He grinned, then gave her a thumbs up. “Nice!”

Ceaith snorted, her ears flicking up. “Maybe this’ll work after all, dork.”

Chirp and Xora smiled at one another.

“Also, I’m going to be fucking her,” Ceaith said, jerking her thumb at Xora, then to Chirp. “And them, if they bottom.”

“They do!” Ember said – causing Chirp to squeak and duck behind the door.

“Niiiiice...” Ceaith purred.

The Starshrike’s passage through the Sunder was faster and safer than it would have been through the surface world. But it was not so instantaneous that it could be brushed through with a sentence, and yet, so much of it was the tiny mundanity that the great epics do not speak of. They talk of the Unconquered striding the world and smiting his foes. They rarely speak of Ember, laying with his head in Xora’s lap and his legs crooked over Chirp’s legs, speaking animatedly of his youth in the village while Chirp and Xora giggled.

They rarely speak of the training regimes – glossing over them with a single phrase. They don’t speak of the one handed push ups in the cargo hold while Goat stood on his back and smoked a pipe. They didn’t speak of how all three Lunars watched, Chirp waving their hands over their head and shouting encouragement, while Ceaith ate fruits and spat the pits in arcing patterns that landed around Ember’s head.

The epics did not speak of the stilted, tense conversations between a man and wife, married by magic and fate, not by any inclination, as they both tried to maintain a civil attitude with one another.

But as was the way of such things, all journeys came to an end.

Ember, his wives, Goat, June and Jerin Kah all met in the briefing room of the Starshrike, which Ember had initially thought was a very large, very strange kitchen. But with the Shrike’s engines back on, the huge table in the middle had proved its use: It was able to, like June, project glowing images of whatever they wanted. June had figured out how to use it and was using it, currently, to let Jerin Kah give them information about Iremire Cauldron before they arrived. It currently looked like a bowl, but the rim of the bowl were mountains. The base of the bowl was filled with a red liquid that burbled ominously, and from the center of that base rose a sheer, black island, which itself had a sheer black tower built onto it. Large, gull winged ships that had massive balloons underneath each wing floated in the air around the mountains.

“So, two skyships,” June said, frowning. “Dragon class.”

“Is that bad?” Ember asked, leaning forward to examine the skyships. Their prows had large, snarling dragon heads carved in the place where the Starshrike had a tapered point.

“They’re armed with enough mana cannons to glass the entire village of Rataka with a quarter of their broadside,” June said. “And Iremire itself has enough magitech hate to throw into the air to refight the Battle of the Three Legged Dog.”

“What happened to the dog?” Xora asked.

“The battle didn’t involve a dog,” Goat said, cheerfully. “It was called that because the general on one side was a human-dog hybrid, and he had this huge-”

“Anyway,” June said, cutting her sifu off. “Jerin, got any more things to say about the defenses?”

“Well, beyond the fact that it has a compliment of Infused Knights backed up by a whole legion of Legionaries?” Jerin asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Not really.”

“Right, right,” June said.

“Where are we going to emerge?” Chirp asked.

“See this red goop?” June said, pointing down at the basin in the center of the bowl of mountains. “That’s sunderstuff. Iremire pumps it out of the deep chaos using focused induction fields. They then use it for raw material, I think.”

“Can we fit up the pipes?” Ember asked.

“Lets see, they’re roughly the width of your dick and are exposed to high pressured, high speed, sunderstuff that’s cold enough to flash freeze a god at all times. So, yeah, sounds reasonable,” June said.

Ceaith snorted. She was lounging in the back of the room, where she could watch everyone with her blue/green eyes.

Ember rubbed his chin. “I have an idea.”

“Oh boy,” June said.

Ember stated his idea.

Silence filled the room.

“Can Ember, Xora, and Ceaith hold their breath that long?” Goat asked.

“Yes,” Xora said, blushing. “Don’t ask me how I know that.”

“Yup,” Ceaith said. “And it’s cause a goddess sat on my face at least twice as long.”

“Ladies,” Ember said, making finger guns.

Goat grinned. “Sounds good.”

June groaned.

Chirp looked as if they were about to faint out of pure terror.

The afternoon shift on the walls of Iremire was an unpleasant one. For Legionnaire Keth and Legionnaire Suul, it was an unpleasentness they were both still getting too. Keth and Suul had been transferred to Iremire from their postings in the cushy south – where the deserts were huge and mostly uninhabited, the cities were loyal, and the women were beautiful, plentiful, and loved women in uniform. Keth tried to not think of the luminous southern beauties, with their dusky skin, their bright red hair, their golden body paint. Keth tried to not think of the huge, silken sheets of the bed that she had been billeted to in the Imperial Garrison – the Garrison that had been constructed out of solid gold by a grateful southern populace.

But it was so damn hard, especially when she was trudging along the flat, black top of the Iremire’s walls. The sun shone down overhead, with an unmercifully harsh glare, and the sky was completely clear of any clouds. To her left, there was the central keep of Iremire – where the rest of the legion was drilling, and the distant sound of crackling lightning and screaming prisoners could be heard. To her right, there was the sheer drop, almost five hundred feet straight down into bubbling sunderstuff that served as the Iremire’s moat.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping down her nose while her armor clinked and rustled with every step, her spear feeling heavy in her hand. Behind her, Suul trudged forward, her breath soft and panting.

“Remember Hashin?” she asked.

“No ... no, not Hashin,” Keth moaned, her eyes closing. “Don’t remind me of Hashin.”

“Remember that trick she could do with her-”

“Please, Suul, stop,” Keth stopped in her trudging. She turned back to look at the lantern jawed face of her comrade in arms. “I don’t want to remember Hashin.”

“What about Triss?”

“Not Triss,” Keth said. “Nor Linda, nor Berie, nor Xandi, or Candi, nor any of them.”

“ ... what about-”

“What the fuck is that?” Keth asked.

Suul and her stepped over to the side of the wall. Because Iremire wasn’t designed for sieges, the edge of the wall lacked proper crenelations. And because Iremire was designed by madmen, for madmen, it lacked a guide rail at all. This meant both Legionaries gave it a severe berth, craning forward to peek over the edge while still giving themselves plenty of space before getting even slightly close to the straight drop into the mutagenic broth that served as Iremire’s moat. But below them, they could see a small, white shape zipping up towards them. Suul’s brow furrowed, but Keth shook her head slightly.

“It’s just a bat,” she said as the bat finished flapping up – chirping rhythmically, as if it was trying to pace itself out. It was a cute little thing. It looked like a drakhul bat, but someone had taken the normally sleek, predatory frame of one and turned the poofiness up until it was essentially all poof. Keth grinned.

“Look at that cutie,” Suul said.

The bat flapped between them.

Then it transformed into a slender, pale white skinned enby with long pointed ears, sharp fangs, and bright red eyes, who immediately kicked out with both legs, caught both Legionaries on their jaw, and then dropped, all three of them touching down at the same moment. Suul’s helmet rolled away and fell right over the edge of the wall as Chirp focused, their soulgem glowing. Ember shot out, feet first, landing on his back next to the dazed Keth. He drew in a deep, gasping breath. “Holy fuck,” he whispered. “It is really c-”

Xora landed on him.

Then Ceaith on her.

In a shockingly short time, Ember was standing and dressed in a legionaries’ uniform, while his three Lunar wives were all dressed in similar uniforms. As Chirp fastened their helmet on, Xora looked down at the two Legionaries that Ceaith was dragging towards the nearest guardhouse on the wall. Then she looked over at Ceaith and Ember.

“But there-”

“Unconquered,” Ember said, flicking some golden light away from his fingertips.

“But-”

“Unconquered!” Ember said, grinning at her.

Ceaith sauntered back, cracking her knuckles as she glanced around the walls. Two more Legionaries had just emerged from the guardhouse at the far end of the wall and were beginning their patrol. “What are the chances that those two find the two we tied up?” Ember asked. Then his eyes widened. “Jerin!”

“Jerin?” Chirp asked. Then their eyes widened. “Jerin!”

Jerin Kah crashed onto the wall between the four of them, his face slack, eyes staring. Ember dropped to his knee, his armor clacking slightly. “Oh gods, he’s not breathing!” He grabbed onto Jerin Kah’s face.

“Breathe into him!” Chirp squeaked.

“That’s how you fix drowning!” Xora said, nodding. “Draw a breath, then breathe into him!”

Ember nodded. He drew a breath, a tiny gold flicker crackling around his mouth. Then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to Jerin Kah’s, breathing into him. Jerin’s chest swelled and then went slack – and then his tongue swept into Ember’s mouth, his hand reaching up to cradle and cup the back of Ember’s head. The kiss went on for another few moments, Ember kissing back with a resolute, determined intensity. Ceaith, who was watching this with a little grni, said: “You know, the kissing isn’t actually necessary right?”

Ember jerked back, gasping. “Oh!” he said. “I thought-”

Jerin sprang to his feet. “Hah! Guess it took you longer to subdue the noble legionaries than you expected, huh?” He asked, adjusting his uniform.

Chirp and Xora exchanged glances. Then Chirp and Ember exchanged glances.

“S-Sure!” Chirp said, nodding.

The interior of Iremire was just as unpleasant as the exterior. The corridors were all very high and very narrow, with ceiling lights that glowed with a pale red light, washing everything in hues of blood red. The stone that they walked along was smooth and black – and Ember swore that he saw a ghostly face every few feet, pressing against the glassy surface. “What are ... what is this place built out of?” he asked, softly as Jerin Kah led them along.

“Soulcidian,” Jerin said.

Ember stopped dead. Chirp walked straight into him and even Ceaith looked shocked, her normally cool, unflappable air shattering as she hissed: “Excusafuckingwhat?”

Jerin turned back. “What?” he asked.

“You built this place ... out of dead people?” Ember whispered. Chirp hugged him from behind.

“No, no, no,” Jerin said, shaking his head. “Soulcidian isn’t dead people. It’s a magical material that stores dead people.” He placed his hand on Ember’s shoulder. “This entire place is one big spiritual magnet, so that prisoners who kill themselves cannot escape into the cycle of reincarnation.”

Ember gaped at him.

“And you thought this was okay?” Chirp squeaked.

“I mean, they’re bad guys,” Jerin Kah said, nodding.

“Like me?” Ember asked. “Or my villagers?”

Jerin opened his mouth. Closed it. He frowned. Then he turned. “Come on. The laboratories are this way, I think.”

They rounded a bend and came into a large chamber that looked as if it served as the arterial junction between many other parts of Iremire prison. There was a central desk with a bored looking functionary sitting at it, their high cap set with a lapis gemstone, almost as if they were a parody of Ceaith’s status as a Lapis Lunar. Their forehead, though, had the more standard black bead that people in the Regency seemed to have for their gemstone. Several other people were walking past. Some of them were Legionaries in heavy armor. One was a woman with heavy goggles on her face and a thick white robe that made Ember think of a chef or a cook. She was the one who glanced over at them first.

“Jerin? Jerin Kah?” She asked.

“Doctor Craven!” Jerin said, stepping forward, taking her gloved hand and kissing it. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Oh Kah, you’re incorrigible,” she said, giggling.

“That isn’t how you put it last time we met,” Jerin purred.

Doctor Craven giggled again, like a school girl. “You mean the first time we met?”

Ember opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, remembering he was supposed to just be an ordinary legionnaire. Ordinary rank and file types didn’t ask the Infused Knights if they had really gone straight from the infusion process to banging their doctor on the slab. But Jerin, remembering their mission, said: “We’re here looking for a specific prisoner.” He nodded. Ceaith relaxed fractionally behind them and Ember reached back subtly to take her hand, squeezing it.

“Who?” Craven asked.

“One Thalina,” Jerin said. “She was picked up in a rebellion sweep in the north, I believe. High command wants her for more questioning.”

“Ah...” Craven tapped her goggles. They glowed and whirred, spirals appearing on them. “Oh! Oh, she’s part of Batch-2. I’m sorry, she...” She shook her head. “We’ll have her soulgem for you in an hour.”

“I need to talk to her now, in this life,” Jerin said.

Ember saw that Craven’s resolve was firming. “Sorry, Jerin. Only members of the thaumatechs are-”

Ember knew that they couldn’t waste time. Every second was another second that Batch-2 might get ... whatever happened to batches here. He knew it couldn’t be good. And so, he stepped forward, took hold of Craven’s wrist, then leaned in close. He whispered into her ear, trying to sound as deadly serious as he could. “I suggest you take us there right now or else we’re going to have serious trouble.” He managed to impart a crack of command into those words without his anima glowing to life beyond a subtle spark that flew from between his lips and swept into Craven’s ears. Behind her goggles, her eyes widened.

“I suggest you listen to my uncomperable friend here,” Jerin whispered.

“R ... Right,” Craven whispered. She started to walk forward. “C-Come along.”

Ember moved to walk beside Craven, with Jerin to her other side. The lunars followed after, but Ember could feel Ceaith’s urge to sprint ahead, barely kept in check by the needs of stealth. They came to a set of stairs, which led down – the temperature growing from overwhelmingly hot to merely unpleasantly warm to actually rather chilly. At the bottom of the stairs was a large door of brass and wood, with a strange set of glass tubes mounted on a pair of hinged arms. Craven took hold of those, leaned forward, and set them against her eyes. The tubes glowed and the door chirruped, then swung inwards. Here, the walls were made of solid brass, not soulcidian. Stepping out of the cold black corridor should have been a relief, but for some reason, Ember was feeling more and more uneasy by the moments.

Craven’s hands shook as she walked. “I-I’ll have you know, I’m just a thaumatech. I don’t ... I don’t make any of the decisions, I just ... work the machines.”

“That’s not a great way for us to begin our relationship,” Ceaith growled, her claws springing out of her fingertips. “What the fuck are you people doing here?”

Craven ducked her head forward as they came to a set of corridors, each one leading to a different room. Each room had a glass window in it and one of them had another thaumatech standing in it. He glanced back and saw them. “Craven! What the fuck are you- that’s an IK!” He pointed at Jerin – but Ember was already in the room, tugging off his helmet. He used the helmet to whack the thaumatech onto his back, stepping up to the glass. He looked into a room ... and was filled with not horror, but rather, confusion.

The room had about fifty people in it. They were of every kith, clan and breed. He saw men and women and even a few children. They looked terrified and all of them were dressed in a cheap white smock, some of them already frayed and tattered. They were crammed into the room so tight that they could barely move. But he saw Ceaith’s sister almost immediately – she was the other catgirl. Though she looked utterly terrified, unlike Ceaith’s normal expression of confidence.

“What is-” Ember started.

The ceiling glowed.

Pillars extended out of the ceiling, each one tipped with a brass orb. It roiled and crackled with green lightning – which slammed down into the foreheads of each of the people in the room. At the same instant, each person in the room screamed. Their fingers clawed at their heads, their bodies writhing and straining with pain. Muscles strained and veins bulged as their howls reached a pitch so high that it could be heard, if faintly, through the glass as the strobing green lightning pulsed into them again and again. Ember’s eyes widened and he drew his fist back.

He punched the glass.

“What are you doing!?” the man he had knocked over shouted. “That’s solid adamant-”

Ember drew his fist back again.

When he punched again, his whole body exploded with golden radiance. Flames roiled along his arms and shimmering dragons played around his body as his anima flared like a bonfire. His knuckles struck a glancing blow against the adamant window. The window shivered, like a leaf in the breze. Then it shattered. Then the wall around it shattered as well. The roaring sound of the metal tearing itself apart was nearly as loud as the screams from the people in the room. But as the dust cleared and Ember stepped into the room, his anima glowing ... every single strand of green lightning leaped from their initial victims, drawn from them...

To him.

The lightning bolts slammed into Ember’s soulgem and he staggered to one knee. Pain unlike anything he had ever felt before in his life roared through him. His nerves burned and his bones sang like crystal. His skin rippled and his muscles tightened. He couldn’t even scream. His eyes closed as he felt the glowing spark of his own life dimming within him. He gasped – and then a blurring shape shot past him. He opened one eye – and saw Chirp, Ceaith, and Xora. They had drawn the legionarie swords they had taken, and were slashing through the air. One after another, the bronze orbs were sheered in half as they leaped again and again and again, moving like graceful dancers.

With each bolt that was ended, Ember felt the pain lessen, then lessen, then lessen again.

Ceaith landed by her sister, hugging her tightly as the last of the orbs was felled. “Thally!”

Ember grinned. “Hah...” he said. “Got em.”

The thaumatech was beginning to creep slowly to the side of the room, crab walking, as if he was worried standing up would draw more attention to him than standing. Ember was beaten to the punch by Jerin – who picked him up and then slammed him against the wall. “What the fuck is this?” Jerin snarled. “There are children in there – what the fuck are you doing here?”