“The generator runs much of the power for the island. We built it underground to protect it from winter storms,” Delani explained as she led them down a windowless hall.
Some doors to laboratories were propped open, giving them the chance to peer in at the wardens working on alchemy experiments with poison. Some doors were closed, with colored lights over a warning sign indicating an experiment was in progress.
“Tithes taking on a round of poisoning,” Delani said when a high-pitched shout startled them as they passed a room.
“Poisoning?” Honovi asked.
“Yes, how else do you think we become tolerant? It takes years to build up resistance.”
Blaine hadn’t given much thought on how wardens were trained, but the idea of being poisoned for years in order to survive in the poison fields and take on revenants left him feeling ill at ease. “Isn’t most of Maricol cleansed?”
Delani shook her head. “Spores ride the winds and seep into ground water. A land can be cleansed for a generation, and the next will find it tainted again. We are always striving to record the poison levels in every quadrant we are assigned along borders to ensure Maricol’s children do not succumb to the land. There are frontier towns that are here in summer and gone in winter because of poisoned mist and fog. Cleansed doesn’t mean safe.”
No wonder the Poison Accords was the oldest set of treaties on record. Wardens might not have a country, but they were a people still, one everyone else looked to for survival. That skill with poison and alchemy and dealing with the unknown was why they’d brought Nathaniel to them.
Still, it was a shock to see Nathaniel strapped down on a lab table, bared to the waist, putting the vivisection scars on full display. A warden was tending to the burn wounds on his arm and side when they entered the laboratory. Blaine had to grab Caris by the shoulder to hold her back from approaching the lab table, keeping her there by the wall with him and Honovi.
“What are you doing?” she cried out.
“Figuring out a puzzle,” a warden wearing a leather apron said as she approached the lab table. She wasn’t tall, her build wiry, and her features favored a Urovan ancestry even though Blaine knew wardens called no country home. “We aren’t removing the clockwork heart.”
“Yet,” the other warden muttered.
“You won’t be removing it at all,” Caris snapped furiously, pulling against Blaine’s grip.
“Ksenia,” Delani warned.
The leather-apron-wearing warden looked over her shoulder at them, a white curl falling into her eye. She was perhaps close to Honovi’s age, hair dark save for a thick white streak that cut at an angle over her head. Blaine wondered if she’d been born with that absence of color or if it had been acquired in the poison fields.
“Governor,” Ksenia drawled. “If you want answers, we will need to cut.”
“No,” Caris snarled.
The bright burst of light that sparked at her fingertips had every warden in the laboratory shouting out a warning. “No magic!”
Ksenia glared at them, pointing a finger at Caris. “Control yourself, magician. We’re running a lot of delicate experiments down here, none of which I want disrupted because you lack control.”
Caris glared at her, still trying to shrug off Blaine’s grip. “I’m no magician.”
Ksenia shot her a withering look. “That was magic.”
“It wasstarfire. Don’t think I won’t use it to protect him.”
Blaine winced at that threat and how every warden in the laboratory came to attention, gazes snapping their way. Ksenia put down the needle and glass syringe she’d been holding onto a rolling tray table. She shoved her goggles up onto her head, white and black hair sticking out every which way.
“The governor may be in charge above, but down here is my realm, girl. I am the master alchemist, and my word is law. When I say you will control yourself, you will do so, or I will remove you,” Ksenia bit out.
Caris opened her mouth to argue, but Blaine tightened his grip on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. “Calm down. Arguing is not going to get us anywhere.”
“But they’re going to hurt him!” Caris protested, trying to knock his hand aside.
Ksenia snorted. “He’s sedated, and we’re running tests. How else are we supposed to figure out what’s going on?”
“You wanted our help,” Delani reminded them. “We are experts when it comes to alchemy and mixing it with magic. Your friend is the first livingrionetkawe’ve had to observe. If you want us to find a way to possibly undo what was done, we will need to run experiments.”
“I don’t want him hurt,” Caris said.
Delani gave her a pitying look. “He’s already hurt. Now, stay back.”
