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

*55

What the hell is Sheln talking about? I thought. There were no bomb-making instructions in Granddad's book. She must have needed something to trump up the charges against us and added a few extra pages. Even if The Ashen Wrath was real, it was likely no "super weapon." Sheln had snared us in a web of lies, exploiting our naivety to return to The Walled City.

"Shocking!" said the High Lord, looking appalled as he flipped through the pages. "These bombs wouldn't had done much damage on their own, but using them in a terrorist act could have inspired a Thrall rebellion. On the dawn of war, we can't spare resources to tamp down some pathetic uprising!" He looked at Sheln. "Who wrote this book?"

"A traitorous Thrall named Sanar Roundtrem—a legacied scavenger and survivor of the Final Lesson," said Sheln. "He was given the Rake after some of his propaganda materials were discovered. The old man died from his injuries. Thankfully, only the people in this room are aware of the book you now hold in your hands."

I bit against my gag, enraged.

The High Lord sat the book on the arm of his throne and stood up. He walked closer to Sheln. "Stand." Sheln did. "You have proven yourself worthy of the Privus. Henceforth, your title is reinstated and your banishment is at an end."

Sheln smiled wide. "Thank you, High Lord."

"I assume you're smart enough to avoid the topic of your execution should any curious parties come calling," added the High Lord. "Be sure to keep such matters far from your lips."

"Of course! I—"

"Do not think you are due for a life of leisure!" interrupted the High Lord. "As a condition of your pardon, you will be expected to begin development of advanced weaponry in preparation for war. You will be provided a proper laboratory and state of the art equipment...I expect results!"

"You will have them," Sheln reassured. "But, if I may be so bold..."

"Yes, what is it?"

"Send me to the Obsidian Tower before I begin work in my new lab. I am confident I can streamline their maintenance protocols and eliminate the surveillance gap. It should only take me a few days."

"Very well. Our drones' batteries are being pushed to their absolute limits. Perhaps you can boost their efficiency." The High Lord glared at me. "Now, what shall be done with these insurgents? The execution of children could spark a rebellion just as easily as a bomb blast."

"High Lord, the young man has shown physical adeptness as well as endurance. He would be a prime candidate for Tower Service."

"An excellent idea," said The High Lord. He directed a lecherous look at Daun. "This girl seems aesthetically pleasing enough. She will be tamed and given to the Duchess of Hortmont. The old crone's been hounding me to assign her an attendant for her next Synaptic Rejuvenation."

"Brilliant, your highness," said Sheln.

"Enough groveling, Sheln. I'll give you a day to acclimate to your new dwelling, then your work shall begin. Welcome back to The Walled City."

Sheln bowed. "Glory to the Privus, Defenders of All Who Remain."

"Glory," replied the High Lord, rolling his eyes.

Tower Service surely wouldn't be pleasant. I struggled against my constraints but it was in vain—the chair wouldn't even tip. I didn't want Daun to see the fear in my eyes. If this was our final time together, I wanted her to think I was brave.

The look Daun returned was determined and unflinching—true courage. I dropped my facade, hoping she'd always remember I loved her. Without warning, the blue cloth wrapped my face again.