Chapter 42 - The Phoenix
Keelin looked in wonder at the construct in front of him. The room was filled with interconnecting machinery, and it all intersected here. A chair sat upon a large metal circle on the floor. The cogs and gears were silent now, the thin layer of dust a testament to their long slumber. Keelin could imagine that once they started up again, the noise would be deafening.
Looking down at the small scrap of leather in his hand, Keelin located what he hoped was the fourth interweave lower lever and pulled it upwards. A loud clunk sounded, but he couldn’t locate its source.
The creature that had approached Keelin with information about HwoyonDo and the Observatory had been very specific about the city’s location and the design of the Observatory, and with instructions on using the great machine. He’d also been very specific on the consequences should the instructions not be followed. Keelin imagined what his insides would look like cooked, and it wasn’t a pleasant thought.
Locating the second low-polar lever, Keelin pulled it downwards. A strange humming noise started up, filling the entire room. Keelin felt his stomach turn over, and his hands shook just a little.
“This it?” Elaina said loudly as she leapt up the last two stairs. “What the fuck is that noise?”
“This is it. I think it’s meant to make the noise.”
“You think?”
“Aye. Think and hope. Find anything valuable down there?”
“Not a thing,” Elaina said. “Lots of books and whatnot. Couldn’t understand a damned word though. Bastards could have at least used the common tongue, eh?”
“Mhm,” Keelin agreed, barely listening. He pulled another lever and several machines stirred to life, cogs turning and pistons pumping, and the noise quickly became oppressive. A rapid clicking sounded from somewhere, setting Keelin’s nerves on edge.
“Are you sure about this, Stillwater?” Elaina all but shouted.
Keelin shrugged and moved over to the chair. It was small, metal, with some sort of machinery all around it and not a cushion in sight. Keelin lowered himself onto the uncomfortable seat and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Keelin had been hunting Arbiter Prin for a long time, but all he was really hunting was a name, and he needed more than that. He remembered the Arbiter as hollow-eyed and deep-voiced, but the man’s face eluded him.
He changed tactics and brought back the memory of his sister’s death. There was no way he could forget that; it was etched into his very being.
It was night; the moon was a sliver and the stars were out in force. Derran had gone to bed early, exhausted after his interrogation at the hands of Arbiter Prin. Keelin had been interrogated twice, and each time he’d been left shaken and weary. The pyre had been built up in such a short time. Neither Keelin nor his mother had realised it was happening until Leesa was dragged out of bed by their father.
Keelin followed after them, begging his father not to let it happen, but he was too small and his voice carried no weight. Leesa was crying. Keelin’s little sister was young, but she was smarter than all of them. She knew what was happening and she didn’t go quietly. She screamed and she struggled, but she was so small and so weak, and their father was tall and strong. He carried her to the pyre and let the Arbiter bind her to the stake. Keelin remembered seeing tears in his father’s steel-grey eyes, the first and only time he’d ever seen the man cry.
Keelin tried to run to his sister, to free her from the stake she was tied to. A big guardsman took hold of him and held him tightly in a bear hug, dragging him away, far enough that he couldn’t interfere. Not so far that he wouldn’t see his little sister burn.
Derran burst out of the manor. Keelin’s older brother was still growing and gangly, but he was powerful nonetheless and had their father’s imposing, cold fury. Keelin remembered Derran and their father arguing while Arbiter Prin lit the pyre.
Keelin screamed for his brother to do something, and Derran grabbed hold of their father’s sword and charged towards the Arbiter. Their father picked up a stone and launched it at Derran; the missile struck hard, hitting him on the back of the head, and the boy went down, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Leesa started to scream as the flames reached her, and Keelin remembered that screaming going on for a long time. His mother collapsed, sobbing and broken. His father tended to the unconscious form of his eldest son. All around Keelin, the guards and house staff moved away, unable to watch as the youngest member of the Fowl family was burned alive. Keelin couldn’t turn away. The guard still held him tight, and all he could do was watch and listen to his little sister’s screams.
When Leesa went quiet, they all knew it was over. Arbiter Prin approached Keelin’s father and they talked for a while. Keelin had never seen his father look so deflated before. He’d brought the Arbiter upon them and he was responsible for the death of his own daughter. Keelin knew his father had never forgiven himself for that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the man.
Keelin remembered the Arbiter looking directly at him, and the guard’s grip grew tighter still. Prin walked close. Close enough for Keelin to see every pockmark on the man’s face. Close enough for him to smell the vanilla on his breath…
A machine above Keelin whirred into life. He opened his eyes. Elaina was standing nearby, panic written all over her face.
“What?” Keelin said, afraid to move now that he’d finally got the machine working.
“Is it supposed to do that?”
Keelin ignored her and focused on his memory of Arbiter Prin, fixating on the man’s face, the sound of his voice, the smell of his breath. The noises grew louder and louder, whirring and clunking, clicking and buzzing. The large metal circle on the floor in front of Keelin started to glow a bright gold that grew lighter and lighter until it was white and painful to look at.
Still Keelin kept his mind fixed on Arbiter Prin’s face, voice, and smell.
Elaina opened her mouth and shouted, but he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the machine, and soon the circle of light in front of him became so bright he had to shut his eyes for fear it might blind him.
Keelin focused on his image of Prin, trying desperately to block out everything else. He was shaking. Or perhaps it was the room shaking – he couldn’t tell, only that something was definitely shaking.
A hand grabbed hold of Keelin’s arm, and his eyes shot open just as Elaina pulled him out of the chair and threw him aside, jumping on top of him at the same time. They rolled together, away from the chair and the circle of light.
The floor shook and the sounds started to slow, fading away. Keelin stared into Elaina’s terrified face, and she stared back. She was sweating, wide-eyed, her breath coming short and fast.
“I don’t think it was meant to do that,” Elaina said after the noise had quietened down enough that she could be heard.
The chair Keelin had been sitting on was gone, buried beneath a pile of cogs and metal shards. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have survived the burial.
“Thank you,” he said, looking back at Elaina. Her gaze was fixed on something over Keelin’s shoulder.
The light in the circle had faded to nothing, and lying in the centre of that circle was a pile of scorched bones.
“Is that…” Elaina started. “Was that him?”