Chapter 5: The Heart of the Wreck
The monster roared—a sound that wasn't a voice, but the screech of tectonic plates grinding together. It swung its massive arm toward the Sulfur-Maid, trying to crush the last flickering Spark of Elara's magic.
"Not today," Kaelen hissed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He reached the "shoulder" of the beast, where a cluster of massive copper cooling-fins protruded from the ice. This was the monster's weakness: to maintain its frozen form, it had to vent the heat it stole from the city. Kaelen jammed his wrench into the primary oscillation gear of the venting system.
CRACK.
The gear shattered. The violet light in the creature's arm flared white, then dimmed. The limb went limp, missing the barge by a mere dozen feet. The Sulfur-Maid plunged over the lip of the Trench, disappearing into the swirling mist and gravity-warped dark.
"I'm coming, El," Kaelen whispered.
He pulled the ether canister from his back. It was a "Cold-Bomb," a tool used by pipe-fitters to instantly freeze a leak so it could be patched. But if he reversed the intake valve and struck the primer, it would become a localized supernova.
He began to crawl toward the center of the mass. The gravity here was maddening; one moment he felt light as a feather, the next his bones felt like lead. At the center of the horror, he saw it: a captured Solar-Sphere, a relic of the High Mages that the Blight was using as a battery to power its frozen heart.
The sphere was cracked, leaking a pale, sickly orange light that the violet ice was drinking greedily.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He wedged the ether canister into the crack of the Solar-Sphere.
"Hey! Ice-bucket!" Kaelen yelled, his voice echoing in the hollow ribcage of the beast. "Try digesting this!"
He swung his wrench one last time, striking the primer pin of the canister.
The explosion wasn't loud. It was a muffled thump followed by a blinding flash of blue-white light. The ether ignited the leaking solar essence, creating a chain reaction. The violet ice began to boil. The creature thrusted upward, shuddering in a death-throe that shook the very foundations of the Trench.
Kaelen was tossed into the air as the beast disintegrated. For a heartbeat, he was weightless, staring up at the frozen ceiling of the world. Then, the gravity of the collapsing Core took hold. He fell.
He plummeted into the mist, the wind whipping past his ears until he slammed into something hard and wooden.
"Kael!"
Small, warm hands grabbed his collar. He blinked, coughing up grey ash. He was on the deck of the Sulfur-Maid. They were at the bottom of the Trench, staring at a door that shouldn't exist.
The Solar-Gate was fifty feet tall, a disk of solid Orichalcum embossed with the map of the stars as they looked before the world went dark. It sat at the very edge of the Core-Well, the only thing separating the city from the raw, dying sun.
"We can't open it," Valerius whispered, his face ghastly in the dim light. "The harmonics... the ice has reached the tumblers."
The Gate was covered in a fine web of violet frost. Even as they watched, the frost was thickening, sealing the seams of the great door.
"Elara," Kaelen said, his voice rasping. He stood up, leaning on his sister. "Valerius said you have the frequency. I don't care about the 'Mage's Song.' I want you to scream."
"Kael, I'm empty," she sobbed. "I gave everything to the engine."
"No," Kaelen said, taking her hands and placing them against the freezing metal of the Gate. "You're a Spark. As long as your heart is beating, you have heat. And if you don't have enough..." He looked at Valerius. "The Mage said I was 'invisible' to the Blight because I'm a Dullard. But I'm not empty. I'm just a different kind of fuel."
He placed his hands over Elara's. He didn't have magic, but he had the friction of a life spent working, the heat of a brother's protection.
"On three," Kaelen commanded. "One. Two..."
As he said "three," a surge of pure, kinetic energy—the raw force of his will—seemed to bridge the gap. Elara's eyes flared a brilliant, blinding gold. Not orange. Gold.
The "Aethel-Tone" rang out, a note so pure it shattered every icicle in the Trench. The violet frost on the Gate didn't just melt; it turned to steam and vanished. With a sound like a thousand trumpets, the Solar-Gate began to rotate.
Beyond it lay the Sinking Sun—and it was smaller than they ever imagined.