Chapter 55: No way Forward, no way Back

Beyond the laboratory, the riverbank grew thinner, leaving only enough space to walk single file. According to the map, the earliest drain suitable to fit them would be in a small bathhouse at the very edge of Senbo. Sylph hoped that a nightly bath was not a common activity in town. The old man’s lab has distracted them enough.

The further they traveled into the damp dark, the louder their own steps echoed back at them. Sylph swerved the pointlight over the walls and water, looking for exits not marked on their map. A small spot up ahead reflected the deep orange light back at her. She jumped into a fighting stance as her dragonheart ignited. It looked like a singular eye staring with the intensity of a predator. Slowly raising the pointlight to give a little more insight, she primed herself to pounce whatever stared at them.

A simple spot of blank metal had reflected the tiny pointlight. “That was not on the map.” The tension in her muscles vanished, but she hurried over the slippery stone until she came to a halt in front of a grate. The cave widened, giving way to a rather spacious hall. A hall barred by bars of digit thick metal. The distance between barely enough to push your pfod through. Refuse had collected in the river where the bars met the water.

Her heart hammed. Nobody had mentioned a grate in their path. It had a door, just as heavy with an equally broad lock. Sylph grabbed the rusty bars and pulled. They did not budge at all, not even a little, not even a hopeful creak. “You did not know about this either, did you?”

Elina and Biscuit shook their heads. The fire inside Sylph’s chest grew hotter as her mind prodded all options. Then it hit her. Fire makes metal softer. “Biscuit, can’t you melt through the bars? You are a Sol.”

Asked to do the impossible, he could only gasp his answer. “That looks like steel! I make a sick crème brûlée, but I can not melt metal. My fire is not hot enough, and the volume would not suffice either.”

Their escape could not end here. She turned to Brandon, who inspected the lock. Some alchemical trick could burst it open. He hmmed several times.

“And? Ideas?”

“With a lab right behind us, I could come up with something, but not in a minute. It will take time.”

Elina froze, and her ears twitched. “I don’t think we have any left.” She grabbed the bars and pulled in desperation. Then Sylph heard it too; Voices. Several voices echoing down the river along with the splashing water.

“What do we do? Can you pick the lock? With a claw?”

Biscuit immediately tried, knowing just as well as Sylph that the attempt was futile. She could make the lock wet, electrocute it, make it feel disgusted about itself. Sylph snatched the lock away from Biscuit and pulled it up to face her. Without a clue how locks worked, she figured that the inner mechanism had to be a lot more fragile and thin than the outside.

Sylph drew a quick breath and grabbed her center of water, digging through her innards for what must be stomach acid. She was not a Metia, but perhaps it would work. Dripping the sharp smelling liquid into the locks’ guts, she expected a miracle, but it simply dripped back out, not reacting with the metal.

A light flashed over the rusty bars from behind them.

“Do we surrender?” Elina asked and took a step backwards, taking shelter behind Sylph. Brandon and Biscuit followed her example and Sylph had very little back left to stand behind, especially with her tail flopping all over the place.

They trusted her to deal with whoever followed them, but all hope of dealing with their pursuers shattered as Sylph spotted the eerie shadow of a large Aer stalking through the river. Nahana’s face remained drenched in darkness, lit only from behind by several pointlights attached to her escort. This time her guards were all full adults, Metia, Sol, and even another Aer, all clad in a complete suit of armor that made them nothing short of a metal wall.

They halted a few tail-lengths away and when the clinking and rustling of metal stopped, Nahana raised her voice. “You made me come all the way down here. I expected you in the other river, little one.” Her voice echoed through the cave, bearing no hint of anger or any emotion. “Little did I realize you’d be stupid enough to pick the one with the grate.” She held up a large key ring. “Too bad you forgot the only key.”

Sylph tensed up, unable to find the words to answer as her dragonheart fired up. Nahana had known about their escape. Who betrayed them? Not Elina or Biscuit. How did Nahana know? On second thought, if she truly knew, she would have stopped them before they ruined her lab.

“Catch.” Nahana called and threw something forward. It landed with a splat in front of Sylph’s pfod.

Elina shrieked out in terror loud enough to have Sylph’s ears close in desperation. “Oh, by the six,” Brandon mouthed and Sylph looked at the oozing object. She froze up. The head of the young Metia guard they spared stared up at her in panic. “You sick monster.” Sylph angled the pointlight at Nahana.

“Your plan had a loose end. Our weapon always leaves a point of entry and exit. But you didn’t know that. You never used it on another dragon before, didn’t you? And they are always so eager to talk when faced with what could have started their future family.” Nahana provocatively licked the blood of her pfod while her gaze never left the group. “He knew the price of betrayal, yet he still sang like a little wyvern, hoping that another betrayal might just leave him with his life.” Her gaze shot daggers, but not at Sylph. Instead, she focused the servants hiding behind her wings. “You should know what happens to traitors.”

“You are not only sick, you are the most degenerate waste of wings I have ever seen.” Sylph puffed up and barred them from her sight by raising her wings. She lowered herself into a fighting stance. “If you want them, you need to go through me.” She had no clue where she drew the confidence from. Facing Nahana alone was too much. Nahana and six fully grown, armored guards? Resisting was madness, but with her back against the wall, her only choice left.

“Seize them.”

Her guards advanced. Four in the river, two on the ledge. Sylph considered her options. Using the paint would buy her a few seconds at most, if they let her apply it without interrupting. Armor meant her weapon was useless, all she could hope for was a lucky hit.

She judged the distance, three tail-lengths, two. Sylph charged ahead, grabbed an outcropping and launched herself by pushing off the wall at the Sol in front. He did not flinch or react as surprised as Sylph had hoped for, instead he head-butted her. The helmet met her skull with a clang and when Sylph opened her eyes; she stared at the floor with blurred vision and a pulsing headache.

“Chain and gag them. There will be no games, only an execution first thing in the morning. I’ll retire,” Nahana said coldly and waded ahead.

The throbbing pain made it hard to think, hard to resist as they stuffed a rag into her mouth and tied her snout shut with a leather strap.