Taboo Online

Aelira pointed her living blade toward the northern side of the extraction terrace.

A narrow root bridge connected the fifth platform to the ruined district beyond it. Corrupted elves and human operators crowded the far end, forcing the remaining defenders back one step at a time.

"If they break through that bridge, the fifth anchor falls," the Queen said.

Rhea assessed the defenders holding the approach. Only two shield panels floated beside her because the other pair still carried the wounded elves they had rescued from the Forge.

"How long will it take to free the blade?"

"I won’t know until we expose the emergency feed."

"Then tell me what needs to survive until you do."

"Hold the bridge and keep the platform intact. I’ll handle the machine."

Rhea nodded once. "That’s enough."

She indicated the others. "Rhea Calder. Kellan handles anything that needs lightning. Dorian holds ground, and Iris keeps people breathing."

"Aelira."

Rhea glanced at the living weapon formed along the Queen’s arm. "I assumed."

The fifth cutting blade screamed against the Heartroot before Aelira could respond.

"Thornmenders!" she called.

Two elven healers hurried across the terrace as living roots rose behind them. The pale growths curved beneath the wounded defender from the Sanctuary and the barely conscious prisoner beside him, forming shallow cradles beneath both bodies.

Once the elves were supported, Rhea’s two carrier panels slipped free and returned to her. All four shields were already cracked from the fighting below. One of the returning pair had also warped badly, while a split ran through nearly half of the other.

A rootkeeper took the third rescued elf from Iris and helped him toward the inner shelter. Iris immediately knelt beside the wounded defender as one of the Thornmenders pressed a long green spike into the torn flesh beneath his ribs.

"Keep your anchor attached," the healer said. "His heart may stop if you release it before the thorn reaches the damaged tissue."

"I wasn’t going to release it early."

Golden bands continued pulsing around the elf’s chest. Beneath them, the Thornmender’s green mana followed the healthy tissue and slowly worked its way deeper into the wound.

Rhea faced the northern bridge again. "Dorian, take the approach."

At the mouth of the bridge, Dorian shifted the black hook beneath his arm and planted its point against the terrace. A bronze circle spread from beneath his boots until it covered the entire entrance.

"Nothing crosses my line."

Rhea turned toward Kellan. "Can you split a charge from the railing?"

He checked the golden anchor around his injured thigh. "If the targets stay put."

"They will. Keep your weight off that leg."

"I learned that lesson downstairs."

Kellan limped toward the outer railing while electricity gathered around his fingers. He moved deliberately, keeping most of his weight on the good leg and allowing Iris’s anchor to support the damaged muscle rather than forcing it to match his usual speed.

Luke stood nearby with his spear in one hand, its tip hanging low enough to scrape across the terrace. Blood had already soaked through the cloth wrapped around his shoulder.

Rhea looked him over. "What do you still have?"

"A spear and no mana."

"Then stay off the front line."

"I know what their extraction machines were designed to do."

"Enough to shut this one down?"

"Enough to know it needs somewhere to release the power it’s drawing from the Heartroot." Luke pointed toward the fifth platform. "Find the emergency release, and we can stop the blade without destroying the entire machine around the anchor."

"He’s right," Lauren said before Rhea could answer.

She pressed one palm against the living terrace. Green light entered the Heartroot beneath her hand, and the sharpened tip of one ear showed through her long black hair as she concentrated.

"The stolen mana is reaching the blade through three lines. Two run beneath the control rail, and the third enters the locking frame below the cutting arm."

Aelira drove her living blade into the terrace and sent silver roots beneath the machinery. They slipped under the black platform, only to recoil when glowing brands appeared across the metal supports.

"The lines are protected," she said.

Lauren’s fingers tightened against the root beneath her palm. "If we destroy only one, the remaining feeds will force the excess mana into the anchor."

Lauren considered summoning Oracle’s Heartwood. It could stabilize her visions and protect her body, but the skill needed several seconds to grow and would leave her Rootbound to the same platform the Ruinborn were trying to destroy. She kept it in reserve and maintained her direct connection to the Heartroot instead.

Oracle’s Glimpse divided the next few moments into several possible outcomes.

In one, Kellan burned through the nearest cable. The second line brightened immediately, and the blade drove another foot into the silver root.

Another future showed Aelira tearing out the locking frame first. Golden mana surged backward through the machinery and exploded across the platform, taking several rootkeepers with it.

The familiar pressure returned behind Lauren’s blindfold as she rejected another failed sequence. Each new possibility became harder to separate from the others, but she held the connection long enough to identify the common point of failure.

"All three have to go down together."

Kellan traced the two exposed cables toward their housings. "I can take both from the railing."

"At the same time?" Rhea asked.

"If Lauren calls the pulse."

Luke shifted the spear onto his good shoulder. "That leaves the locking frame."

"You have no mana," Lauren reminded him.

"I don’t need mana to pull a release bar."

"You can barely hold the spear."

"The frame is already damaged."

Rhea examined the structure beneath the blade. A narrow manual release extended from one side, but the branded housing had bent around it and trapped it in place.

"Can you reach it?"

Luke traced the maintenance ledge running beneath the platform. "Yes."

"And get back?"

"I will."

Iris glanced over from the wounded elf. "I don’t have a spare anchor if you fall."

Luke looked toward the blade cutting deeper into the fifth anchor. Golden mana continued spilling from the wound.

"Then I won’t fall."

Lauren rose and caught his wrist before he could leave.

"Wait for my signal. Don’t touch the release until I tell you."

"I won’t."

"Promise me."

Luke met her covered gaze. "I promise."

Her grip lingered for another second before she released him.