"The glass looks magically reinforced," Jacqueline murmured, her breath fogging the metal of the grate. Her analytical gaze swept across the lab below. "Standard concussive or shattering spells won't even scratch it. It's designed to contain a massive energy release."
"So, smashing is out," Low grunted, cracking her knuckles with a sound that was unnervingly loud in the cramped shaft. "My favorite plan, too."
"But the conduits," Jacqueline continued, pointing with a slender finger. "See how they glow? They aren't shielded the same way. They're channeling raw life force, twisting it. A potent purification agent, something that could neutralize corrupted energy, might disrupt the flow."
Zombiel, who had been staring intently at the floor of the lab, pointed a still finger. "The floor," he said, his voice a flat, resonant hum that vibrated through the metal duct. "The power is there. In the crystals. They hold the orb's magic in place."
Leonotis remained fixed on the orb itself, the dryad's silent agony a constant, painful thrum against his own magic. "And the thorns," he whispered, his voice tight with empathy. "They're alive, but not like a normal plant. They feel… wrong. Twisted. I don't think I can break them, but maybe… maybe I can convince them to let go. Soothe them."
A grim, desperate plan began to form, whispered in the hushed tones of conspirators amidst the dust and shadows.
"Okay," Leonotis took charge, his voice a low, commanding hiss. "So, Low will handle the guards when they inevitably show up. Zombiel you're the one that noticed the Crystalline nodes. Can you take care of them" He glanced at Zombiel, who gave a slow, solemn nod. "Jacqueline, you handle those glowing tubes. And I will talk to my thorny friends. We move fast, we hit hard, and we get out. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Jacqueline and Low whispered in unison.
"We go at sundown," said Leonotis.
Their descent into the laboratory was a carefully orchestrated chaos. Leonotis, nimble and silent as a falling leaf, slipped through the ventilation grate first, landing softly in the deep shadow behind a cluster of bubbling, ominous-looking beakers. Jacqueline followed, her movements as precise and economical as a scholar turning a page. Low dropped with a heavier, more solid thud, her landing a statement of intent. Zombiel seemed to melt out of the shadows beside her, his movements unnervingly quiet and fluid.
The laboratory was momentarily deserted, the scientists likely having retreated to their own quarters after the king's abrupt departure. This gave them precious, fleeting seconds.
Jacqueline moved swiftly towards the orb, her fingers already tracing patterns in the air. "These are drawing her life force, twisting it into something unnatural," she muttered, her eyes narrowed in a mixture of academic fury and disgust. She produced a small, intricately carved crystal vial from her pouch, uncorking it with a soft hiss. A purifying waters swirlled inside. With a flick of her wrist, she splashed the liquid onto the junction where one of the conduits met the orb. It sputtered and hissed violently, like water on a hot forge, and the unnatural light within the tube flickered erratically.
Low positioned herself near the laboratory's main entrance, hefting a heavy metal stool, her muscles tensing for the inevitable confrontation. Zombiel glided towards the crystalline nodes embedded in the floor, his pale fingers hovering inches above them. A faint, ethereal orange energy, the ghost of the salamander's fire, emanated from his touch, causing the nodes to hum with a discordant, vibrating frequency that set Leonotis's teeth on edge.
Leonotis approached the orb, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The dryad remained suspended, her beautiful face a mask of silent, unending agony. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sterile horror of the lab and focusing his inner senses, reaching out with his green magic. The dryad's pain was a palpable presence now, a strangled cry that resonated deep within his own soul. He pictured the thorny vines, not as enemies, but as part of the dryad, extensions of her own suffering, twisted and cruel. He poured his energy into them, not with force, but with a gentle, insistent coaxing, a whispered plea for them to release their hold, to remember the sun and the rain and the earth. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the vines began to twitch. Tiny leaves, which had been withered and brown, crumbled to dust and fell away.
Suddenly, a high-pitched, piercing alarm shrieked through the laboratory, bathing the room in a flashing, disorienting red light. A synthesized, disembodied voice boomed from unseen speakers: "Intrusion Detected in Bio-Containment! Wards Breached!"
"Time's up!" Low growled, shifting into a fighting stance. "Now or never!"
Jacqueline cursed under her breath, a rare and startling sound. "The wards! The water bypassed the outer shell, but it tripped the internal flow sensor! I didn't have enough time!" She redoubled her efforts on the conduits, splashing the remaining water on the other junctions, which sizzled and spat in protest.
Zombiel's ethereal energy intensified, the crystalline nodes now vibrating so violently they began to crack. One by one, they shattered, releasing a burst of stagnant, foul-smelling magical energy that dissipated harmlessly into the air.
With the anchors broken, Leonotis felt a surge of violent resistance from the vines, as if the magic binding them fought back against his influence. He grit his teeth, pouring more of his own life force into the task, his brow slick with sweat. Let her go! he pleaded silently. Finally, with a series of loud, snapping sounds like breaking branches, the thick, black thorns retracted into the vines, and the constricting coils unwound and loosened, falling away from the dryad's body.
The dryad slumped within the viscous fluid, her limbs limp. At the same moment, the sickly green light of the orb flickered and died as Jacqueline severed the last of the conduits with a final, sizzling splash. The thick fluid within began to drain away with a loud gurgle, revealing the dryad's weakened, fragile form. She was smaller than Leonotis had imagined, her bark-like skin now a mottled, sickly grey and her leafy hair dull, brittle, and lifeless.
As the last of the fluid drained away, she slid limply to the bottom of the orb, landing with a soft, heartbreaking thud. Leonotis didn't hesitate. With the conduits and nodes destroyed the orb could be cracked. He took his root-sword and slashed an opening big enough to climb in.
He scrambled into the empty container, gently pulling her free. She was surprisingly light in his arms, her body frail and unresponsive. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing hazy, unfocused green eyes that held no recognition. She blinked slowly, as if struggling to comprehend her sudden freedom. A weak, confused whimper escaped her lips, the first sound Leonotis had heard from her, and it was a sound filled with an eternity of disorientation and pain.
The laboratory doors burst open, and guards in dark, functional cloaks charged in, their energy-batons crackling. "There they are! Subdue the intruders!" one of them shouted.
"We need to go!" Low roared, hefting the metal stool and swinging it in a wide, menacing arc that made the first guards hesitate. "Zombiel, with me! Jacqueline, Leonotis, get her out of here! GO!"
They looked to the air vents, but they were now sealed.
The rescue had been successful. But their escape, burdened with the fragile, broken prize they now had to protect, had only just begun.
The plan, formed in whispers and desperation, exploded into chaotic action. Leonotis tightened his grip on the frail, barely conscious dryad. She was shockingly light. He became the protected package, the heart of their desperate retreat, with his friends forming a fierce, moving shield around him.
Jacqueline moved first, her expression one of cold, focused fury. She cast magically water from her hands across the tiled floor. It sizzled, not dissolving the floor, but transforming it into a sheet of impossibly slick, frictionless ice. The first two guards charged in, their heavy boots finding no purchase. They went down in a flailing, undignified heap of tangled cloaks and curses.
"This way!" Jacqueline yelled, pointing down a sterile, white corridor to their left.
They ran, their footsteps echoing in the metallic hallway. The institute was a maze, every corridor identical to the last, a disorienting labyrinth of white walls and humming, recessed lights. Heavy metal doors slammed shut behind them, triggered by the alarm, attempting to herd them, to trap them.
A group of guards rounded the corner ahead, energy-batons crackling with contained power. Low met them head-on without a shred of fear. She didn't bother with finesse. She was a whirlwind of raw, untamed power, her movements brutally efficient. She ducked under a wide swing, her fist connecting with a guard's jaw with a sickening crunch. She used his falling body as a springboard, launching herself into another guard, her new strength sending them both crashing into the wall. She was a blur of motion, disarming, striking, a force of nature that the guards, accustomed to dealing with cowering scientists, were utterly unprepared for.
"Zombiel, that door!" Leonotis shouted, seeing their path blocked by a magically sealed bulkhead.
Zombiel didn't hesitate. He glided forward, his movements unnervingly smooth. He placed his pale hand on the glowing locking mechanism. A fierce, orange fire flared from his palm. The magical lock sizzled, sputtered, and then shorted out with a shower of sparks. The heavy door hissed open.
"There are too many!" Jacqueline cried out, unleashing a jet of high-pressure water that sent two more guards tumbling down a side corridor. Her sweat beaded on her forehead, and her movements were becoming strained. "We're getting boxed in!"
She was right. Every turn they took seemed to lead to more guards. The sterile, white corridors began to feel like the closing walls of a trap. Leonotis, his arms aching, clutched the dryad tighter. He felt a wave of despair wash over him. They had rescued her, only to be caught like rats in a cage.
Just as a heavy gate slammed down in front of them, sealing their escape route, Low let out a frustrated roar. "Dead end! We're trapped!"
The doors at the far end of the corridor exploded inward with a deafening CRUNCH. Emerging from the wreckage was a figure that made even Low pause. He was taller and broader than the other guards, clad in gleaming black armor that seemed to absorb the emergency light. A long, two-handed energy staff hummed in his hand, its tip glowing with a dangerous violet light. He was a Warden, a top-tier security agent.
"Intruders. You will surrender now," his voice boomed, synthesized and without emotion.
Low met his stare. "Try and make me."
The Warden moved. He didn't run like the others; he glided, impossibly fast. His staff was a blur, aimed directly at Leonotis and the dryad. Low intercepted him, her body a battering ram, but the Warden pivoted with unnatural grace, deflecting her charge with a single, brutal shove from his staff. Low grunted, staggering back.
"Jacqueline, give us an opening!" Leonotis shouted, his arms tightening around the dryad. Suddenly, Leonotis began to feel his ase building in his body.
Jacqueline immediately unleashed a high-pressure jet of water, but the Warden simply raised his other hand. An invisible shield shimmered in the air, deflecting the water with a soft HISS.
"You are not escaping," the Warden said, his voice a cold finality. He stepped toward them, the staff held high.
Zombiel, in a flash of pure instinct, placed his hand on the floor. A wave of orange flame erupted from the ground, but the Warden, unfazed, simply walked through it, the flames parting around his armor like water.
"We have to go!" Leonotis yelled, taking his root-sword in a defensive sword stance.