Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (31 page)

Against all odds, the tithe ship reached the outer door. Her captain, fighting off a pair of pirates with his cutlass, flashed a royal seal. Even in the control room, they could see it glisten in the sun.

The crystal before Private Rumir changed color. “Seal is valid,” he reported.

“Open the outer door, run out the cliff guns,” Colonel Jeshrop announced.

There was an audible rush of air throughout the facility as hidden doors all along the mountainside slid open, revealing cannon and mortar emplacements ready to fire.

The pirate ships broke off their pursuit, wheeling about in panic. Their crews realigned the sails and deployed smoke screens, but it was too late. The pirate ships were shredded apart by a merciless gale of lead. A throaty cheer arose from the gunnery crews, ecstatic to have fired their first rounds in years. Following standard protocol, the emergency defenses were activated. A jet of void energy shot up into the sky from the mountaintop, then descended in all directions, forming a dome-shaped void barrier around the entire mountain range. Now, nothing could pass in or out until the reserves arrived from Kirdish.

Inside the command room, Colonel Jeshrop turned his attention to the wall tiles. Like a mirror, each one reflected a view from one of the observers mounted throughout the reserves. Every room and corridor was visible to him from multiple angles.

Inside the holding bay, he watched the enormous outer door close shut, sealing away the sounds of battle and screaming pirates. The stricken tithe ship coasted to a stop up against the dry dock, her crew calling out for help.

Dozens of Heshi’sians rushed aboard to help them.

“I've got at least three more still alive below deck,” Captain Luvrouck announced through his long gray beard, leaning against the mast for support. “They're injured.”

Ensign Holibo was freed from underneath a pair of pirates that had collapsed on top of her. She stood up indignantly and straightened her uniform as best she could.

Several of the crates of gold taries had been spilled open, but the Heshi’sians ignored them. Instead, they went about the pirate bodies, jabbing a small hand pick into the neck of each one to make sure they had passed on. The cold, methodical way in which they administered death clearly disturbed first mate Salalyn as she gripped the scaly green skin on her arm to stop the bleeding from her wounds.

Corporal Snasarlig lept back over to the dry dock and opened up one of the call tubes. “All hostiles neutralized, nine survivors from the tithe ship crew.”

Colonel Jeshrop’s voice came back clear in response. “Place the crew in holding, we're getting scattered reports of Navy patrol ships coming under attack by some kind of pirate fleet. A size we've never seen before. I want everyone on high alert.”

“What about the pirate bodies?”

“Take them all to the pit.”

Corporal Snasarlig snapped his fingers and everyone paid attention. With a few silent hand gestures he divided his men into two teams. One began dragging away the dead pirates, while the other escorted the survivors down a stone hallway.

No aid or mercy was given to the injured sailors by the Heshi’sians. When Ensign Norastar fell out of step from his leg injury, he was brutally kicked from behind and warned to keep up.

The holding cell was little more than a brig. Cold, smooth walls lined with observers. The sailors were shoved inside.

“We've got some serious injuries, here,” Captain Luvrouck protested.

Corporal Snasarlig nodded and a few rolls of gauze and a field medical kit were tossed in along with them.

Doctor Yundreck scooped up the kit and looked it over. “I'll also need a...”

“You know the law,” Corporal Snasarlig said sternly.

“Yes, but given the circumstances, surely exceptions can be made.”

Corporal Snasarlig sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, I'll think about it.”

“Really?” Doctor Yundreck asked, perking up.

“No.”

With a touch of a rune, the void barrier came to life, trapping the sailors within.

Left-tenant Brusuni stood up and ran her fingers through her short brown hair. “Now, wait a minute, I live to serve and all that, but you can’t just ignore League bylaws. What about the Salzburg Convention, the Turin Articles?”

Corporal Snasarlig leaned in close, as if he savored the cruelty. “Your cell is now airtight, try not to waste it all complaining.”

Spinning on his heel, the Stonemasters left the room and walked down the hardened corridor.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I like him,” Doctor Yundreck commented as he bandaged up the first-mate’s arm.

“They're all like that,” First-mate Fitdron said, dabbing a fresh layer of perfume on her neck.

“Why do you lay it on so thick?” Left-tenant Brusuni asked, waving her hand around.

“Because my husband thinks I stink,” she griped.

Everyone glanced at the Captain. “Don’t look at me, my name is Luvrouck,” he defended.

Corporal Darendrat unshouldered his bundled water vase and inspected it. The vase wiggled and gave off a tiny burp and a dart of red fire.

Ensign Doudmuki stood up and craned her head around, as if trying to get a better view of her own backside.

“What are you doing?” First-mate Fitdron asked in irritation.

“Just checking out the landscape,” Ensign Doudmuki said, wiggling her hips back and forth in a sultry fashion.

Captain Luvrouck, Left-tenant Brusuni, and Ensign Norastar sat themselves down in a semi-circle, blocking Doctor Yundreck from the view of the observers mounted in the walls. Inside the semi-circle, the Doctor began emptying his lab coat pockets, creating a pile of surgical and diagnostic tools, along with bits of string, scraps of wrappers, and a handful of dead mice.

“This is amazing,” Ensign Doudmuki giggled as she jumped up and down, making her curves bounce.

“Knock it off, Colenat,” First-mate Fitdron ordered, placing a dab of perfume on her neck.

* * *

Ahhhhh, my leg is cramping!

Inside her square container, Athel did her best to keep her breathing slow and steady. The air was stifling. She could feel beads of sweat running down her shoulders and pooling in a gross little puddle at the small of her back. Slowly she massaged a cramped leg muscle as best she could.

Crap, I really have to go to the bathroom. They always skip over that part in the books.

Carefully, Athel twisted open another breathing tablet and placed it in her mouth, savoring the burst of fresh air it provided. She could hear some of the Heshi’sians talking.

“It’s confirmed, the Navy patrols have all been captured, we're on lockdown until reinforcements arrive.”

Their voices are close, probably here on the deck with me.

“What about this ship? Do we deposit the gold in the vault?”

“No, the Colonel wants to keep the inner door sealed. I want you to check all the crates.”

Oh no.

Athel heard a sharp metallic shriek, a kind of grinding sound.

What is that?

The sound happened again, this time closer. It was more nuanced this time, coins jingling and the piercing of wood by metal.

They're stabbing all of the tithe crates to make sure there’s no one inside.

Again the stabbing sound occurred, this time right next to her.

Athel held her breath, careful to make no noise at all. The Heshi’sian was so close she could hear him breathing.

Athel’s container was roughly moved to one side, and then a blade was thrust straight through the final crate.

Athel’s eyes grew wide.

* * *

The pit was a large shaft that led down into the facility’s rune furnace. One by one, the Heshi’sians dragged the dead pirates up to the edge and unceremoniously tossed them in.

“Is that the last of them?” Corporal Snasarlig asked as he walked up, obviously disappointed at having missed it all. He shoved the man aside and picked up the pirate. As he lifted the body up with his hands, it hung limply.

Corporal Snasarlig’s expression changed. “Something is wrong here.” He looked down at the hallway where the bodies had been dragged. “Why isn’t there any blood?”

The Corporal reached out and grabbed the pirate’s head, it came off with a wooden snap. Suddenly, the pirate’s body seemed to evaporate into a mist. Corporal Snasarlig dropped it to the ground in surprise. What lay on the ground now was a wooden mannequin dressed in pirate’s clothing.

“What is this?” he asked, leaning in close. The chest of the mannequin opened up into a pair of doors, and with a hiss, dark green smoke was shot up into the Corporal’s face, quickly filling the hall.

Corporal Snasarlig coughed. His men covered their mouths, but it was too late. “Signal the colonel...” he gurgled as he collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.

Down in the furnace, the illusion spell sloughed off the rest of the pirate bodies, revealing them all to be mannequins. Their burning wooden chests opened and released more clouds of dark green gas.

Propelled upwards by the heat of the furnace, the gas flooded through the hallways of the facility, forcing its way underneath doors and through ventilation shafts.

* * *

In the command room, all was a panic. Watching the wall tiles, Colonel Jeshrop looked on as his people collapsed at their posts all over the reserve.

“Seal off the contaminated areas,” he ordered in irritation.

“Working on it.”

“The bunkhouse is completely flooded,” Private Rumir reported.

All over the facility, stone hallways become unsolid and pinched themselves tightly closed. Stone doors swung shut without hands and fused with the surrounding material. But it was too little, too late.

Annoyed, Colonel Jeshrop watched as gunnery crews tried to force open the outer doors to escape the fog, only to collapse and hang out the openings like rag dolls. Many of the rooms and hallways were now so polluted he could no longer see into them.

Colonel Jeshrop walked over to the call tubes and opened the one leading to the prism stream room. “Commander Hallaust, I want you to signal...” He was cut short by a blast of green gas that caught him square in the face.

He stepped backwards, fighting to stay on his feet, his hands clutching at his throat. “Seal all the tubes,” he coughed. I want this room secure!”

Private Hoferlum coughed and collapsed in his chair.

* * *

In the holding cell, Captain Luvrouck looked on anxiously as the wall of green gas came in and pressed up against the void barrier.

The guard from the hallway stumbled in, his face slamming against the barrier, then sliding down slowly as he collapsed to the floor.

Doctor Yundreck shook his head as he worked. “Immune to pain and torture, but not sleep spells.”

“Let’s just hope this thing is as airtight as they said it is,” Captain Luvrouck fretted.

“Almost done here,” Doctor Yundreck announced as he assembled the seemingly random pile of items into a strange device. Even the dead mice had a place, stuffed inside a glass beaker and attached to the top of what looked increasingly like some sort of helmet.

Ensign Doudmuki busied herself by trying to find as sultry a pose as possible. She bent forward, placing one hand on her knee, while biting on her fingernail and looking back. “Hey Mina, how come you never pose like this?” she teased.

“Because I am a lady,” First-mate Fitdron retorted.

“No, no, see, you're doing it wrong,” Left-tenant Brusuni corrected. “If you really want the guys to drool, you wanna drop something.”

“Drop something?”

“Yeah, then you can bend over to pick it up. Here, try it.”

Left-tenant Brusuni took off her Navy cap and tossed it on the floor. Ensign Doudmuki shrugged and bent over to scoop it up.

“No, go slower, and bend at the hips, not at the back. The point is to show off your backside. Here, I'll show you.”

Left-tenant Brusuni slowly bent over to pick up the hat, while Ensign Holibo looked on in confusion, tilting her head to one side. “Does that really work on men?”

First-mate Fitdron looked up and realized that none of the men were working. They all had their eyes fixated on Brusuni’s backside. She smacked Doctor Yundreck on the head. “Stop drooling and get back to work.” She then pointed a finger at Captain Luvrouck. “And you are going to pay for this when we get back home.”

Ensign Holibo pulled out a notebook and began writing. “Bend at the hips,
very effective
.”

Ensign Doudmuki tossed down the hat again and tried to recreate the pose herself.

“Ryin, I said knock it off!”

The illusion spell around Doctor Yundreck wore off and evaporated, leaving Dr. Griffin in its place. “All ready,” he announced as he lifted up the strange device.

“Better hurry, lad,” Captain Luvrouck said as he turned back into Captain Evere. “Looks like our disguises just expired.”

Left-tenant Brusuni dissolved into Setsuna as the device was placed on her head. She readied herself and placed a spacer in her mouth to prevent her from biting her own tongue. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dr. Griffin pulled out a long cable from the device and flicked the needle at the end. “You may feel some pressure.”

Setsuna grabbed his arm. “Pressure, what do you mean pressure?”

Dr. Griffin patted her hand reassuringly. “Oh, that’s just what we doctors say when we mean pain.”

Setsuna’s green eyes grew large. “Hold on, pain? We never talked about...”

Dr. Griffin jammed the needle into an observer in the wall. Setsuna’s head was thrown back back sharply and she screamed, green light pouring out of her eyes.

* * *

In the command room, Colonel Jeshrop grabbed onto his command chair, forcing himself to stay upright. Corporal Brousterlum coughed one final time and then slumped over. There was a rush of energy that passed through the room and all of the wall tiles went blank. When the tiles awoke again, they all displayed the same identical image. It was a crudely drawn chalk image of Ishi, the Stonemasters’ god, chained to a table and being paddled on the back of the head by an old bald man with a grey ponytail.