The metal beneath Kaelen's boots didn't just vibrate; it shrieked. The Vanguard's rear-left leg, a masterpiece of hydraulic brass and steel, was seizing as the Frost-Blight turned its internal lubricants into jagged glass. Outside, the sky over Aethelgard had turned a bruised, electric purple. The Null-Storm was no longer a distant threat; it was a wall of static and ice, cresting the caldera's rim.
Chapter 19: The Hot-Swap
"Kael, the pressure is backing up into the secondary turbine!" Elara screamed. She was pressed against the main manifold, her small hands glowing with a gold so intense it began to singe the wool of her sleeves. "If the manifold blows, it'll take out the docking clamps. We'll fall into the Trench!"
"I'm not letting us fall," Kaelen gritted his teeth.
He swung himself over the railing, dangling twenty feet above the churning gears of the "Piston-Gut." With one hand, he gripped a cooling fin; with the other, he positioned his heavy wrench over the bypass-pin of the primary manifold.
The violet crystals inside the pipe were pulsing, sensing the heat from Elara's hands. They were growing, spider-webbing across the brass.
"Elara! On three, I want a thermal-flare! Direct it into the intake—burn the frost out before I vent the gas!"
"I can't hold that much heat, Kael! It'll burn the seals!"
"Then let them burn! We'll replace them later!"
Kaelen looked up at the saboteur he had pinned earlier. The boy was staring at the violet pulse with a look of religious ecstasy. "The cold is the only truth," he whispered.
"Shut up," Kaelen growled. "One! Two!"
On three, Elara let out a cry of pure exertion. A pillar of golden solar-fire erupted from her palms, channeled through the copper pipes. The sound was like a thunderclap inside a bell. The violet crystals didn't just melt; they shattered, turning into a foul-smelling, grey steam.
CRACK.
Kaelen slammed his wrench into the bypass-pin.
The manifold gave way. A jet of superheated, Blight-tainted steam roared out of the vent, screaming into the open air of the caldera. The recoil was massive, nearly throwing Kaelen into the crushing gears below. He felt the skin on his forearms blister, but he didn't let go of the lever.
"It's purging!" he roared.
The grinding screech of the Vanguard's leg softened into a rhythmic thrum. The city-ship leveled out, the massive brass pistons finding their stride once more. But the victory was short-lived.
A massive, subsonic boom echoed through the hull.
"The Storm," Hrothgar's voice crackled over the ship's brass speaking-tubes. "The first wave just hit the caldera walls! Aethelgard's stationary shields are failing! Kaelen, get your people to the embarkation deck! We're detaching in five minutes, with or without the docking clamps!"
Kaelen scrambled back onto the gantry, grabbing Elara as she collapsed from the effort of the heat-flare. Her hands were raw, the orange glow of her Spark barely a flicker.
"We have to go, El," he whispered, hauling her onto his back.
"The... the crystals," she wheezed. "Kael, there were more. In the other legs. I felt them... a network."
Kaelen looked toward the upper balconies, where Lady Cassia had been watching. The balconies were empty. The Purifiers hadn't just sabotaged one leg; they had seeded the entire ship with Frost-Blight "bombs," timed to go off the moment the Vanguard tried to outrun the Null-Storm.
He looked at his wrench. The iron was glowing a dull red from the heat-flare, the metal tempered by the very fire that should have melted it.
"Valerius!" Kaelen shouted toward the maintenance hatch. "Tell Hrothgar to delay the detachment! If we move now, the vibration will shatter every joint in the ship!"
"He won't stop!" Valerius appeared at the hatch, his face pale. "The Storm is already inside the caldera, Kaelen! The 'Dullards' in the Lower Wards... they're being flash-frozen!"
Kaelen looked through a porthole. The beautiful golden mist he had worked so hard to restore was being turned into a swirling vortex of violet ice. The people he had saved just days ago were running for the Vanguard's boarding ramps, but the ramp-guards were raising their spears.
"They're closing the gates on them," Kaelen whispered, his heart turning to lead. "Cassia is locking the 'Grounders' out."
"Not while I can still turn a bolt," Kaelen growled.