Unknotted

Sparkers and a Craving

Georgie

The enchantress led us back onto the factory floor and down a narrow metal staircase. The temperature bounded higher and higher with each step, the air drier. Sweat was pricking at my scalp beneath the wig and cap by the time we reached the bottom. The woman, protected in her special coat, looked as cool as a Ripple in a pool though.

In the poor lighting of the blinking orange emergency lights, I noted the four cameras positioned at each corner of the room. I made a point of looking directly at each one. My glasses, another of Jik’s inventions, would create a glare so bad it would conceal my identity. In my line of work with the Ebbing Society, these were a lifesaver.

Twelve furnaces, with orangish glows beaming through portholes on their doors, lined the walkway. I allowed the offense of the enchantress’s hybrid-skinned coat go; I couldn’t save the dead after all. The living though… There was still hope for them.

I swallowed hard and stepped up to a porthole. Dozens of lizards the size and shape of iguanas moved lazily inside. Their slimy skins ranged in warm colors from red to yellow.

One drop of Sparker saliva could start a fire that burned hotter and faster than the typical blaze. With wood a rare resource on Tredema, this ability made them an ideal fuel source. Just by drooling, the Sparkers generated enough heat to boil the water above the furnaces into steam that powered the factory.

Sparkers could withstand extreme temperatures unless dehydration prevented their skins from regenerating its protective slime—an effective flame retardant. The skins of these Sparkers were charred black and flaking off in clumps, leaving wounds covered in crusty pus. Eventually, they would crisp up like meat left on the grill too long. Their deaths allowed the Broshots to boast about their eco-friendly factories. At the rapid rates Sparkers reproduced, what did the Broshots care if a few thousand of them suffered and died too young?

They didn’t care.

But I did.

I stepped back from the porthole. “When was the last time you paid the Sparkers?”

Sparkers, like all elementals, had no use for money. They were simpleminded, extremely friendly, and thrived in a variety of environments. For the low price of a bit of sugar and a story, they would happily start, or extinguish, any fire.

“Pay them?” The enchantress scoffed. “I can control a hundred elementals in my sleep.”

I shoved a fist into my pocket. “Except when the tide is out.”

The enchantress lifted her eyes to the Core and stomped up the stairs, tossing a warning over her shoulder. “You have twenty minutes to fix this problem before I throw you out.”

“Good riddance,” Peth mumbled, wiping the back of her hand across her glistening forehead. “Jik, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, jelly donut.”

I smirked at Peth’s eye roll, then crouched as if to open my toolbox. “What’s the status on those cameras?”

“Running the fake footage,” he said, without the sweetness he saved only for Peth.

“Great. Hurry and catch up. We’ll get started.” I tapped the small button on the corner of my glasses. With the faintest click, the tiny camera in the frames took a photo of the furnaces. I walked the room taking several dozen more from different angles, including closeups to show the Sparkers’ emaciated and festering states. Maybe with enough evidence, the Ebbing Society could convince the masses of the horrors happening at the hands of the Broshots.

At the bottom of my toolbox, I found thick cow-hide gloves and a bag that rattled softly as I scooped it up. I opened the first furnace.

The Sparkers stared at me curiously with beady black eyes. I shook a few sugar cubes from the bag into my hand and tossed one. A lizard with a large portion of skin sloughing from its ribs sniffed the cube. A moment later, its tongue flicked around the sugar and sucked it into its mouth. Its head lifted higher and it crept closer. Sensing its pleasure, the other Sparkers crept forward too.

I tossed a few more cubes. “Once upon a time there was a princess.”

The Sparkers hissed excitedly and drew closer, eyes trained on me.

I backed out of the furnace with the Sparkers following. “This princess loved her parents and her people.” I opened the next furnace, tossed in sugar cubes, and moved to the next while Peth did the same for the furnaces on the other side. “The king and queen taught her all they knew. The princess grew strong and powerful until she believed she was invincible. Life was perfect. In her ignorance, she was blissfully happy.”

The Sparkers, moving stiffly from wounds they nursed, hopped after me up the steps that would take us to the generator room. Peth opened the last furnace and doublechecked for stragglers.

“Do we have them all?” I asked.

“All the ones we can save.” Peth, frowning, followed the mess of Sparkers.

I cringed. Our plan only assisted those able to move, to crawl, to climb. We would save a couple hundred tonight, but that didn’t stop the ached for the few dozen too far gone. Tears—tears and rage—for those left behind I would have to save for later.

I opened the generator room and lured the Sparkers inside with handfuls of sugar. They piled in, eyes locked on me, eager to hear the story.

I obliged. “A day came when the king and queen made a demand of the princess, one she could not obey because her heart could not be bought with power or magic. This demand led the princess on a new journey filled with horrible discoveries and fraught with peril. But she was not afraid of the dangers that lay ahead.”

With the Sparkers out of the furnaces that forced them to salivate, the heat dropped. The hiss of the boilers quieted as the water in them cooled. Peth entered, setting our toolboxes down. She turned a wheel to manually lower a piston encased in a large cylindrical chamber. This forced the built-up steam back into the boiler room below and the other already pressurized pistons. The floor quaked from the growing pressure.

As Peth worked, I continued my story for my captivated audience. “This perilous journey took the princess far from the home she loved. Though she longed to be with her family again, she could never return. For they were the villains. To this day, the princess fights for truth, justice, and the survival of all.”

Peth groaned as she locked the piston in its lowest position. “That story again? I hate that one. There’s no romance in it.”

“And there never will be.” I pulled on my headlamp from the toolbox, a new pair of gloves that tightened around my wrists, and special booties that cinched tight about my ankles. I checked that my rope was easily accessible on the back of my belt. “Speaking of romance. It’s time for you to collect your date for the evening.”

Peth groaned, adjusting her cap. “Are you sure I can’t be the one to climb the shaft this time?”

“If you think you can squeeze through the release valve, sure.”

She kicked my toolbox closed, snapped the lock shut, and grumbled something about how being a troll was awful. I hated when Peth complained about what she was but listing off the benefits of being largely immune to magic and the Core’s influence had never seemed to improve her mood.

I opened the maintenance door to the cylindrical chamber of the lowered piston and locked eyes with the Sparkers. Their tails wagged almost like a dog’s. “Time to climb. Up you go.”

They looked at the door, then back to me, revealing their concern.

“I know, seems like a crazy idea, right?” I shook the bag of sugar. “But I promise more once we’re outside.”

That was enough. In a dash, or as much of a dash as a gaggle of burn-ward patients could manage, the Sparkers swarmed through the hole. They latched onto the chamber’s walls and ascended into the darkness beyond.

I handed Peth my toolbox. “Hurry out and if anyone asks you any questions—”

“This isn’t my first jailbreak.”

“Right. Don’t forget Jik,” I called as she reached the door, our toolboxes in hand. The closing door cut off Peth’s groan.

(Chapter continues in part 2...)