The silence of the Sepulchre had turned into chaotic noise. Lyall and Elara ran through the maintenance tunnels beneath the Order, the faint light of pure nexium escaping through the conduit seams. Behind them, the Veiled Ones of the Power faction were pursuing them, faster than any human.
Lyall heard a sharp hiss just above his head. He was not reading the stone (the Sélithe), but the air pressure deforming around it. A Veiled One was using her stone for levitation, gliding along the copper ceiling with terrifying ease.
"This way!" cried Elara, pulling Lyall toward a service hatch.
Lyall could not afford analysis. He had to read the metal for survival. He pointed his gauntlet toward the conduit ahead: the brass veins of an emergency exhaust line pulsed there. He sought not attack, but the quickest escape route.
Another Veiled One closed in, her arm armed with a Selithe that spewed intense heat. Lyall felt the conduit behind him vibrate violently from the shockwave. He only just managed to duck in time.
Just as the traitors regrouped, a service door ahead of them opened with an unexpected crash. Lyall felt a massive, pure pressure escape from a master purge line. It was the power of raw nexium, but used as a simple jet.
A wall of thick, saturated steam burst forth, flooding the corridor. It was the signature of Mother Atara. She could not openly fight the betrayal, but she had sacrificed an essential conduit to create a diversion, buying them a few precious seconds.
Guilt struck Lyall harder than the physical pain. He had just condemned the Doyenne to face Sister Veridia's wrath for their escape.
"Lyall, quickly!" Elara opened a hatch leading to the foundations.
They exited through a maintenance valve into an obscure district of Aethelburg. Lyall turned, ignoring Elara's worried glances.
He raised his gauntlet toward the exit valve, a heavy wrought-iron plate. He concentrated, not to open it, but to seal it: he manipulated the micro-gears, tightening the metal threads until they seized, making the valve nearly impossible to open from the outside without heavy tools.
"What are you doing?" Elara asked, panting.
"Protecting her," Lyall replied, pointing to the valve. "Veridia will turn on Atara for that diversion. I hope this gives her time to prepare."
Outside, danger was everywhere. Private agent patrols, recognizable by their blackened copper insignias, were sweeping the streets. They were caught in a vice: the Veiled Ones of Power behind, and Vane's bounty hunters ahead.
They found refuge in a small abandoned structure, an old tent-making workshop.
"We have to leave, Lyall," Elara pleaded. "Leave the Empire. Vane will mobilize the army."
Lyall shook his head. "No. To leave is to let Veridia and Vane win. Those Selithes the stones they use they need the same source as the Mother-Pump. Vane gave them the power to fly and burn, but he didn't create it."
He pointed to the crumpled photo he had saved. "If I destroy the Mother-Pump... if I cut the source of the corrupted nexium he uses..."
"...He won't be able to charge his secret weapons," Elara finished, grasping the strategy.
"The only place he won't be actively looking for us," Lyall said, "is the place he believes is destroyed."
Their path was clear: they had to return to the Domain of Cinders.
Elara used the rest of her contacts to secure a small, discreet transport vessel. At dusk, Lyall, the fugitive smith, and Elara, the disgraced Countess, climbed aboard.
As the Aerostat lifted above the city, Lyall looked at Aethelburg's lights. He was heading west, toward the barren lands he had fled. He was no longer running. He was moving toward the only solution that could end the cycle of tracking and corruption.