The Iron Empire

It was hopeless.

Tears stung Dak’s eyes as they dragged him over dry grass, dust and dirt, rocks and pebbles, roots and scattered old bones — which he hoped weren’t human. His whole body ached — and his insides felt even worse, watching his friends — by the time they came to a halt at the lip of a giant hole dug into the ground, a roughly rectangular pit in which dozens of people huddled in small groups. Dak saw their terrified eyes, constantly looking up, darting back and forth at the soldiers, probably wondering who’d be the one to finally end their lives.

Dak tried to scream, but it came out as another wimpy muffled moan. He tried to squirm away from the man holding his rope to no avail. He looked at each of his friends — at Sera, at Riq, at Aristotle — hoping that something magical might happen to free them. Desperation and fear boiled in their eyes, as he knew they did in his, too.

The soldiers dragged them to the very edge, then threw them into the pit one by one.

Riq hadn’t cried very often in his life. Not because he was some kind of macho hero dude or anything. He just wasn’t the type.

But something swelled behind his eyeballs, and it sure felt wet. Eventually, to his own surprise, tears trickled down his cheeks. He would’ve wiped them away if his hands had been free, but they were bound tightly with rope. So instead he buried his head into his lap as best he could, and cried a little harder.

He didn’t completely understand why the sorrow racked him so heavily now, of all times. They’d been through plenty of tough days as they’d traveled throughout history, fixing Break after Break. But these soldiers had seemed so harsh. So brutal. So mean. They didn’t discriminate their rough treatment — old man, kids, girl, it didn’t matter to them. Riq was positive that they treated their animals better, especially the horses.

He was so close, yet so far away from winning his war against the SQ. Stuck in a prison pit, ordered to die in the morning, with no way to tell anyone who they were or why they’d come. And even if they did get out of it, what did it matter? Riq had nowhere to go. Dak and Sera would have to leave him behind. Wasn’t he better off dead?

And that was the kicker. That was the truth at the heart of the despair threatening to swallow him up. Sera had been right. He’d preferred the idea of a hero’s death to trying to imagine life without family, friends, and the Hystorians’ mission.

But he wanted to live. He knew that now. He didn’t want to die in this place.

And so, he curled up into a ball as much as possible, and he let himself cry it all out, not caring who saw or heard.

Sera had enough bumps and bruises to last the rest of her life if she had any say in it. But she probably didn’t have much say, and she had a feeling that more would be coming.

Aching and wincing, she’d scooted away from where she’d landed after being tossed into the pit, and finally nestled her back against the wall, finding the most comfortable position possible — considering her wrists were tied behind her back. The cloth stuffed inside her mouth was awful, choking her and making it hard to breathe. Several times she’d had to fight the urge to throw up from a gag reflex. She could only imagine how pleasant that would turn out.

Settling her body, she forced herself to relax. Something would work out, she knew it. They still had the Infinity Ring, a miracle in itself. Maybe the soldiers weren’t planning on searching them for valuables until they came out of the pit. Or maybe they didn’t care, or doubted they had any. Regardless, Sera and her friends had the Ring. And if she could just get her hands free . . .

She struggled a bit but stopped to catch her breath. She took a long look at each of her friends. Riq had curled up into a ball, and she thought his shoulders shook a little. Was he crying? For some reason that hurt worse than the bruises and scrapes. Dak lay on his side, staring at the dirt, breathing slowly and calmly. Aristotle was next to him, sitting up, staring at the edge of the pit as if he expected King Philip or Alexander to appear at any second to rescue them.

She loved these people, her friends, the philosopher . . . She wanted to do whatever it took to get them out, to get them back home. She wanted to win, fix the Prime Break, eliminate the SQ, stop the Cataclysm. She wanted it all so desperately.

And underneath it all, her parents. She could still picture them, as she’d seen them in her Remnants. She knew that whatever power Tilda had over them, they loved her. She just knew it. So if it had been the SQ who had taken her parents from her, then that was all the more reason to keep fighting until the SQ was wiped out of existence.

Dak. Riq. Aristotle. Her parents. Dak’s parents. Her uncle. Brint. Mari. The countless others who would be saved if the mission succeeded.

Riq could cry — he deserved to let it all out. Dak could sit and think — he deserved a rest, a break, some time to himself. Aristotle could stare at the sky and hope as much as he wanted.

The rest was up to Sera.

She could do this.

Would do this.

No matter what.

Step by step, piece by piece.

She got to work.

THE GAG was the first thing to go.

She had to trust her eyes more than ever before in her life. Watching, waiting, watching, looking everywhere — she focused on the soldiers guarding the pit, and forced herself to rely on patience, taking the tiny opportunities when they came. Dak started to sit up when he noticed what she was doing, but she glared at him — they could say more with their eyes and body language than most people could with words — and he went back to lying on the dirty ground.

It took a while — and some serious bending of body parts that she hadn’t bent so much since, well, 1850 or so — but she was finally able to reach her hand high enough to grab the wad of cloth in her mouth and pull it out. Choking and coughing, she spun around to face the wall of the pit so that no one could see her. Thirst raked her throat, and it seemed as if the coughs might never stop coming. But they subsided, and she composed herself once again.

She slowly turned around, puffing her cheeks out a bit so that it would look like she still had the gag. A quick survey of the scene up above showed that no guards suspected anything — in fact, they wandered around the pit as if they couldn’t care less what anyone below did. But Sera couldn’t take any chances.

Riq caught her eye. He’d uncurled from his position and sat staring at her, his face full of questions. That’s when Sera made a huge decision. Escaping the pit would be hard enough for one person — impossible for four. Her friends needed to trust that she could find people who knew Aristotle and come back to get them. She hoped they understood. With careful nods of her head and pointing with her eyes, she tried to tell Riq and Dak that she wanted them to create a diversion.