The Ashen Wrath (Watty's SHORTLIST recipient 2018) CHAPTERED VERSION

*6

       

We marched to the massive grey cube on the hill as black smoke began to belch from a pair of towering stacks. I always stared at the ground as we passed under the stilt striders, fearful to meet their gaze.

Binjin hurried beside me as we approached the factory's massive steel doors. The stilt striders' lights extinguished, meaning we were free to talk again. "Hey, you ever wonder how the Privus make their machines move? Not just the drones, but all the stuff in the factory. It's definitely not clock-work or magnets. My dad says they use black magic."

I looked at granddad over my shoulder to make sure he was still in the line. He always refused my help and told me never to wait for his "old legs." Still, I was wary of leaving him too far behind. I smiled when I saw his mop of grey hair bobbing in the distance as he shuffled.

Binjin slapped my shoulder. "I'm talking to you, Danth! Come on, what do you think?"

"He said black magic moves the machines? I don't think it's magic," I said, turning toward Binjin again.

"What else could it be?" said Binjin, kicking a stone off the dirt road. "If they don't get wound-up like our watches, how do they do anything?"

"Granddad says the Privus use something called electricity. It travels through all those narrow tubes strewn throughout the factory. The drones are a little different—they have boxes full of electricity inside of them called batteries that have to be refilled each day."

"He's crazy" said Binjin with a laugh. "What's this elec—whatever—made of?"

"Granddad says electricity is inside the lightning bolts that strike the hills in the late summer. It only takes a little bit of electricity to move metal but getting it to do what you want is really complicated."

"Impossible. I watched a lightning bolt split a 50-meter pine tree in half. No one could catch something like that then make it do their bidding."

"The Privus can," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah, by using black magic," said Binjin, as the plant's doors opened in front of us. It was our signal to go quiet again.