Page 128 of Under the Iron Sky

“None,” Aeris said from beside him. “If I’m understanding these diagrams correctly, the banks where the Light that’s keeping the defenses up is stored should be around here.” He pointed to the base of the building drawn on one of the blueprints. “And these lines are what funnels that power through the base, traveling up here to the crest.” He trailed a finger up the sketch. “And here,” he tapped the very peak of the tower, “is where there would have been a Sunflower that powered the facility before.”

Ikarus picked up the page, examining the sketch of what looked like a lily with long sweeping petals fused to the top of the base. “Was the flower still attached when the building fell? If it was, there might be a weak spot there for us to exploit.” Probably not, but anything was worth investigating at this point.

“I’ll ask around,” was all Aeris said.

Across the room, Malakai was lounging in a chair, tossing a plume of blue fire into the air like a ball, catching it, and then throwing it again. “What if we got a big group of golems together and just—” He made a throwing motion with both hands. “They’ve got big thick heads. That should get us in the temple.”

Aeris’s lips thinned. “We’ve already tried throwing all manner of objects into it with no results. Boulders included.”

Malakai swiveled in his chair to face the Ethereal. “Yeah—boulders, not golems. They’re a lot bigger and heavier. Might be worth a try.”

Aeris stared at him like he’d just suggested the Iron Sky was pink. “Why don’t you see if you can round up a few and give it a try?”

Malakai tossed Aeris his middle finger, then went back to throwing his ball of fire, sulking. There was a fresh bruise on his jaw.

Ikarus tossed the blueprint back down.

Aeris clasped his hands on the table. “What are you thinking?”

Ikarus stood and cracked his knuckles. “That we’re wasting a lot of valuable resources trying to break into this temple when in reality, give it a few more days, and they’ll run out of power anyway.”

Aeris seemed surprised at this. “You’re suggesting that we do nothing?”

“Not nothing—wait them out. You’ve seen what it’s like out there; they’re running on fumes. Even with the Towers being restrung a few weeks ago, these shields require copious amounts of Light to keep them up. I say we let them drain themselves to the bone, then tear the thing apart and take what we want.”

Aeris stared at him for a long time. “You look tired. Are you still searching the human’s memories?”

Ikarus pressed his teeth together and stared down at the map, running a finger against the Fresurn Mountains where he’d captured her. “Not as often as I should, given her injury. But Emelda is seeing her this evening to give the all-clear.” Ikarus tried not to think about why that made his stomach lurch.

“And then it’s back to business as usual?”

Something in his tone had Ikarus looking up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forgive me for overstepping, but I can’t help but feel as though you’ve been … distracted lately. You’ve gone to great lengths to secure Ramapheal’s victory since you were a child, but since the human has been around you’ve been—”

Before Aeris could finish his sentence, the wall to the far-left shook, and all three of them had turned toward it just as Golla’s head shot out. “Must come quick,” he screeched, panting.

Malakai pushed up from his chair, the ball of blue flame in his hand winking out. “What’s wrong?”

“Come now, come now! Emelda hurt!”

Please be alive. It was all Ikarus could think as he phased himself and Malakai to their burrow. Please be alive. Please. Please. Please.

They appeared in the hallway. The door was flying open before the thought had even entered Ikarus’s head, as though his magic was just as terrified as he was and acting of its own accord. He charged inside, Malakai and Aeris right behind him.

The room was in total disarray. Roots that’d been torn straight from the wall lay in shredded pieces on the floor. Ikarus’s chair was toppled on its side. The bedcover was missing entirely while the bottom linens were askew and—

Blood.

It was all over the sheets. Thick and red, it saturated the floor and surrounding walls.

The thickest smear of it led to the bathroom.

The three of them hurriedly followed it, only to freeze on the threshold when they saw her. Them. Emelda and the human, together, huddled at the end of the trail of blood, surrounded by a ring of clean water beneath the still running shower.

Emelda was draped across the human’s lap, water trickling down her wings while the human sat upright beneath the spray, back and shoulders resting against the stone.

The human’s eyes were closed, face tilted to the side, arm draped around Emelda’s waist, and although Emelda had presumably long been cleaned beneath the water, speckles of blood still clung to the human’s face and neck, hidden from the shower’s spray.