Chapter 22. MAGES & SLAVES

  After securing the men we’d tied up and gagged, we took the stairs to the valley floor.

  The valley itself was a large half-moon-shaped canyon just below the Broken Mountains, and far above Vale. The Factory stood larger than the other buildings, except of course, the massive stone Castle at northernmost point of the valley. The inner wall of the city connected to the natural wall of the bluff on the eastern side of the valley, and there we spied a set of stairs that led down to the valley floor.

  Very few soldiers patrolled the top of the bluff, or the valley floor near the Factory, so it appeared worth the risk to gather more information. And of those few soldiers we did see patrolling the area, they all seemed quite relaxed and unworried. This place was so far above the city, maybe they’d never faced any sort of threats.

  We left the three soldiers guarding the bluff at the top of the stairs. Briar performed a simple invisibility spell, casting it over all of us, which got us down the stairs unseen. Even marching down the stairs unseen, we couldn’t avoid the two soldiers stationed at the bottom of the stairs.

  Willow flashed quickly casting a binding spell wrapping up the first motorized soldier, locking him up in the warm embrace of a rope that he couldn’t see or touch. Due to Briar’s invisibility spell, he couldn’t see us either, so he fell to the ground with great fear in his eyes, his mouth bound as tightly as his arms and legs.

  Willow giggled seeing the spell’s effect.

  We stowed the man behind the stairs where he should remain in stasis for at an hour, maybe longer. This gave us countdown for how much time we could spend here—that and the fact that the longer we stayed in the valley, the more likely we were to alert whole squad of trigger happy soldiers and thugs. However, an hour should be time enough for us to get inside The Factory, and get out again with intel enough to inform our future plans.

  Ehren spotted the second guard walking toward us, and he tried a simple misdirect spell that sent the guard’s attention away from the stairs with a couple simple thrown sounds. A loud crash sounded from the area of the barracks, across the valley.

  The guard’s head twisted in that direction, and after hearing a second thudding sound, he jogged off toward the north. Greer collected a hybrid weapon from the first thug and watched, waiting for his turn to cast a spell, live and in person.

  The mages and I moved carefully the rest of the way down the stairs, and I saw a gleam in Ehren’s eyes that betrayed both the excitement and fear he was feeling. And he wasn’t the only one. They had all grown up in Vale, steeped in the legends and laws of Uof and Weer, all of which permeated their childhoods and their adult lives. Even though they’d each been a part of the resistance for some time, in the past six weeks they’d also become mages of The Way, embodying the enemies of Vale and openly defying the laws of this land.

  The risk they were all taking wasn’t small. Uof would kill them if they were caught using magic of The Way, or worse.

  Once we all reached the bottom of the stairs, I studied the sprawling building that looked leftover from civilizations of old. Its ancient walls were unnaturally smooth, and stretched at least five men tall, running nearly the length of the east side of the valley. Splotches of an oily substance could be seen here and there on the walls themselves and scattered on the valley floor, making the area glisten and flash colors in the morning sunlight.

  I gave the signal and our ragtag group half-crouched and ran out onto the valley floor, still invisible, heading toward the Factory building.

  The valley smelled more sharply of oil and machinery now, as well as a pungent stench that I knew as the smell of burnt plastics, a strange matter from ancient times. As we neared the building, we heard chugging machinery battering away inside, but we could also see now that it was partially a ruin. Large sections of the walls had been blasted open, perhaps for ventilation in the past, making the sounds louder, and through which, dark, smoky fumes leaked into the sky every few minutes. We approached from the south and saw a number of men moving in and out of the building on the opposite side.

  We needed to find a quieter entrance. We drew to a halt behind an outbuilding sitting near the factory. This small building appeared to be a storage shed storing tools or machinery.

  I looked up at the massive stone castle-like structure we’d seen from above, on the bluff. From the valley floor the castle towered above everything, dark and imposing, a monstrosity?—?this had to be Uof’s Keep. In contrast to the Factory, the castle stood taller with rough walls of natural stone, crafted of hewn rock in the fashion of the four large stone Keeps inside Vale.

  It was hard not to stare at the largest building I’d ever seen.

  Pulling my eyes from the keep, I led us over to the walls of The Factory, seeking cover. Surely more men patrolled the cliff walls above us, meaning the outside of The Factory was too exposed for us to stop and rest. Though it presented potentially even more danger, I led us to a door on the south side of the building?—?near the back and far away from the main entrance. My urgency increased when I saw Briar’s invisibility spell already beginning to show signs of wearing off.

  Opening the door carefully, I peered inside while the others crouched along the wall behind me, slowly growing into full visibility. The immediate area beyond the door was dark and appeared deserted. It was a small room full of supplies of some kind.

  We all moved inside quickly, and I shut the door behind us. We took a moment to take stock of our matter and weapons, and I checked on everyone. We’d entered The Factory unseen, and so far, with very little resistance. I knew our fragile peace wouldn’t last long.

  The small room had another door on the other wall, which I cracked open to see The Factory floor factory stretch out ahead of me. Long, rusted metallic walkways above the floor crowded the space, with metallic stairs leading up and down. Dozens upon dozens of machines worked on the main floor, each burping out gouts of steam and seemingly producing weapons or tools of some kind. I saw a giant blacksmith’s area on the other side of the space with a huge, red-hot kiln, chugging smoke out of its stacks and belching puffs out into the air, some of which leaked through the gaps in the walls of the building.

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  Several men worked around each machine operating the various functions of the machines themselves. Thugs patrolled the walkways above the machines, each carrying their clearly specialized motorized weapons.

  I sensed the heavy use of magic in the air, the atmosphere feeling claustrophobic the moment I opened the inner door. The air felt almost heavy with magic. I was curious as to why?—?here in the heart of Vale—magic use didn’t make sense. The other mages clearly sensed it too, wrinkling their noses as they felt the change in the air.

  I had to get a closer look at the machines.

  “Stay here,” I whispered to the others. “I’m going inside. I need to get a look at those machines and see how they work. Greer, keep an eye on the Factory floor if anyone comes into this room, take them out by whatever means necessary. Willow watch through the back door. Keep it quiet, if possible.”

  “Yes master,” Greer replied, his face serious.

  “Greer, you don’t have to call me that,” I said. “You can just call me Mage.”

  “Yes master,” he repeated with a smirk. I shrugged.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said, moving out the door.

  Once I slipped inside The Factory itself, the noise increased and the smell of burning plastic and oil was noxious and overpowering.

  I moved in a crouch toward one of the metal stairways, keeping an eye on the men patrolling the walkways above the machines themselves. Scaling the stairs and getting up to the walkways would make seeing these machines easier, but the walkways were crawling with soldiers all of whom were heavily armored and carrying large steam-powered weapons. These men looked to be the best of Uof’s army, not part of the rabble I’d met in front of the city some weeks before.

  I crouched beneath one set of metal stairs, hoping my dagger of stealth would cover me somewhat, and looked around for the magic beacons I’d seen placed throughout the city. There were none here.

  Suddenly, I realized, with the amount of magic in the air, there would be no need for beacons?—?someone was working with magic here at such a high level, the beacons would be lit at all times. I could feel the magic used in this place was nearly constant, which made me a shiver.

  Mages must be present.

  There under the stairs, I drained some minerals I’d had in my pockets, and cast a spell I’d created some years ago—a spell simpler to cast than invisibility, requiring less matter. It was easy to cast on myself, but nearly impossible to cast on a group of people.

  I called it my Visual Bounce Spell.

  In essence, the spell covered me in a shield that only enacted when someone saw me. If someone looked at me, the spell would bounce their vision somewhere else immediately, so fast in fact, that effectively they wouldn’t see me at all. The only time this spell became ineffective was at close range. If someone stared straight at me, they would see me, but the confusion in their minds would give me enough time to move, dodge, escape, or attack, if I had no other options.

  Or at least that was my hope.

  Completing the spell, I moved out from under the stairway, walking determinedly toward the machines in the center of The Factory. I angled down a side alley between the main floor and a row of shelving units along the east wall.

  I found a nook between shelving units and came into a crouch before one of the machines that wasn’t currently in operation. Beyond it, I could see several other machines in use.

  Each machine appeared different, totally unique in their construction. No two machines were alike. One of them appeared to be churning out gun barrels of varying sizes. Two men worked the machine itself, assembling parts, while a third man sat in a chair behind them.

  I watched the three of them work for few minutes, and I saw that each gun they machined was given a barrel of a different size—no surprise there, each weapon, like each machine, was unique. We’d always known The Law of Commonality somehow guided the power of the hybrid weapons, which was why they were each so different in construction. This made each weapon more powerful because it was wholly original, but how that happened in practice, we’d never known.

  The key was here, right in front of me somewhere. I narrowed my eyes, shuffling closer to the nearest machine, finding an area behind the unused piece of equipment that offered me a better view of the three men at work.

  One man slowly and methodically fashioned parts for a weapon. The second man received parts made by other machines, and then carefully assembled them with the parts machined by the first man. I couldn’t see anything strange in their methods. I shuffled along a little further until I could see the man sitting at the back of each machine.

  Seeing him, a revelation hit me like a tree branch to the face. I’d been wrong all along.

  This third man was chained to the machine, his face a mask of constant pain and rage. At first, the picture didn’t make sense as I took it in. This third man was dirty, unkempt, and bleeding from numerous cuts and bruises on his body.

  He moved in a rhythmic fashion that looked smooth, practiced, and artful. He was performing spells.

  He was a mage.

  The shock of this hit me hard, as my head swam for a moment. His arms were chained to the floor with enough leeway in the chain to cast spells, and his legs were bound together similarly. His wrists had sores where the chains were cuffed to him.

  He wasn’t just a mage. He was a slave.

  I shook my head and watched his movements, as shock continued to wash over me. Meanwhile, the mageslave launched a series of spells into a large crossbow as it was assembled. Then he did it again on the next weapon, with variations. Some spells changed with each new weapon, triggering something in the devices, while one spell was used on every weapon, every single time.

  This final spell didn’t actually trigger, it was held in abeyance. I guessed that it was the spell that helped make the weapons or tools work. I watched him cast the spell as best I could from my vantage point?—?he didn’t seem to speak any words during the casting?—?but I found it was an entirely foreign spell I’d never seen nor used before. Perhaps it was an ancient spell of some kind?

  Beside him sat a small bucket. I assumed it kept the matter he used to create his series of spells. Every so often, he reached toward the bucket, draining some piece of matter to cast another spell.

  Beyond him, out on the Factory floor, dozens of other mages sat behind machines in the same way, each one chained to other machines just like this man. There were more beyond that. The implications of what I saw did not register fully, and instead of taking the time to process this new information, I simply grew angry and reacted.

  I worked up a spell on instinct, draining matter, tuning into the Well, performing the movements necessary, and finishing the spell.

  When I triggered it, the bonds securing the mage in front of me sprung loose, and though he’d likely been sitting there all day, he was ready. He leaped up like a gazelle, sprinting away?—?as if he’d been waiting for release all this time.

  Before I could even consider what I was doing, I cast the same spell six more times, springing fellow mages free, one after another.

  I didn’t even get a chance to talk with one of them, because a loud explosion lit into the air from the back of The Factory. A bright flash of light accompanied the BANG!

  Something was wrong?—?that was Greer.

  Every guard in The Factory immediately started moving toward the back storage room, heedless of the six free mages now roaming the factory floor. I sprinted toward the little room at the back of The Factory and ran headlong into three soldiers who were moving the same direction.

  I drained a metal bucket on the ground near me, and threw my hands forward to push cast a forceful wind, which knocked over all three of them instantly.

  I didn’t stop to see if they got back up.

  When I got back to the small room, the doorway was a smoking, jagged hole in the wall. Greer was on his feet near the door, draining matter and readying for another attack, while Briar, shook his head, probably trying to get the ringing out of their ears. Dirk’s two soldiers crouched with Willow near the back the small room, guarding the back door.

  I stepped into the doorway of the small room.

  “Here they come,” he grumbled.