Chapter Thirty-Five
Heron tried not to imagine the knife cutting into her flesh, but her mind saw the possibilities of his work too keenly. She closed her eyes, but that didn't help either.
Then, she turned her head away from Philo, who had changed his mind about his knife and had gone back to rearranging his implements.
Sepharia had woken and stared wide-eyed back at her. If it wasn't bad enough that Philo would cut her apart while she still lived, her niece would be forced to watch too.
Heron clenched her eyes shut, indicating to Sepharia to do the same. Once she had, she cleared her throat, which was harder than she thought, stretched across the metal rack.
"Philo," she said as calmly as she could. "What are your plans for my daughter?"
Philo looked up from his table and glanced over his shoulder at Sepharia on the altar. He'd been opening a leather bound book to a blank page.
"Don't worry. She's the temple's property. It'll be a quick death," he said as if he were offering a favor.
Heron quieted. At least she would be spared the pain and agony Heron was about to experience.
"There," he said, settling comfortably on his stool. "Now where shall we start? Maybe a bit of more knowledge of the knee. I'm curious how the damage appears to the eye."
When the knife bit into her flesh, it was like a hot flame had been set to it. She wished she could have stayed quiet, to spare Sepharia the horror, but she found her voice betraying her in high screams.
Heron blacked out for a moment and came to, with Philo dabbing away blood from the bloody flower that was now her knee.
"Let's see how that looks when we apply pressure," he said, detached.
Philo activated a lever on the steam mechanic, initiating a gear that connected to the manacle on her leg. The chain pulled her leg taut until it felt like her knee would dislocate.
Heron blacked out at least twice more during the investigation of her knee. When she came to the third time, he was sewing up her knee and the chain had been loosened.
Philo gave her a sip of water from a cup that she drank from greedily. Her throat was dry from screaming.
Heron was relieved when Philo hunched over his book and began scribbling notes and sketches. An absurd thought crossed her mind, wondering what Philo would make of her gender once the truth was exposed. At least the insult that he'd been bested by a woman would be worth it.
"Is there anything I could offer that would get you to free my daughter?" she asked, gritting her teeth through the pain.
Philo made an amused grunt. "I told you, she's not mine to give. She's to be sacrificed in a few days."
Heron glanced at Sepharia to see her working on the binding that she'd loosened. They'd used ropes on her, so there was a chance of escape. Heron was glad that Philo's back was to the altar.
"What if I offered a new design that was going to revolutionize the world?" she said. "A design so amazing it makes my steam mechanic a mere toy."
Philo's raised eyebrow betrayed his interest. "Go on."
Heron didn't actually have a new design in mind. She just had to hold his interest.
She wracked her brain for an idea she could confide. A design she read about in the Library sparked an idea. "It's...a machine...that can count."
Philo immediately laughed. "Why that's absurd. You have no such device in mind. You're just stalling."
"No," she said, more confidently this time, the idea gathering speed like a stone rolling down a hill. "You are familiar with the Heavens Mechanism used by the Rhodes Astronomical Society for calculating the positions of the heavens?"
"Of course, don't count me a fool."
"Then, you would know a similar design could, with a series of inputs, relay calculations powered by the steam mechanic in iterations beyond man's capability, allowing us to even greater works," she said, hoping to pique his curiosity.
She wasn't entirely sure how such a device would work, but she knew enough that she could probably work it out given time. She hoped Philo would give that time to her.
"In addition," she said. "I will be as a cooperative a patient as possible. For the enumeration of knowledge."
The last part seemed to seal the deal and Philo clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling with import.
He stood, surveying his meager table and book. "With that design, they would name me the greatest of all inventors." He rubbed his chin. "How large is such a device?"
Heron kept her eyes from glancing at his book. "A meter on two sides and twice as tall."
"Yes," he said. "I would imagine that a device like that would be rather large, dwarfing even the Heavens Mechanism."
He took a few steps away. "Well, I shall have to put our current investigation on hold while I have the acolytes bring down a larger table with the appropriate sketching implements."
Philo smoothed his pristine toga. "The wonders of this day never cease. I'll be back in a bit," he paused with a grin on his face. "Don't go anywhere."
As soon as Philo left the chamber, Sepharia began struggling on the altar. Heron tried to get loose herself but the manacles were inescapable.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually Sepharia got one arm free. Once she had that, she was able to work the other arm free and then the legs.
Sepharia grasped at the iron manacles frustrated. Tears immediately formed in her eyes.
"I can't get you free," she said.
"Don't worry, daughter," Heron offered, feeling closer to Sepharia than she ever had. "I can get loose and then we'll escape together."
"But how?" Sepharia said, wiping a tear with a forearm.
"Go to the rooms up the passage and find a length of rope at least one meter long," said Heron.
Sepharia left immediately. The silence after her niece left, even with the steam mechanic chugging along, was unbearable. She kept expecting Philo to return with a handful of guards and Sepharia held captive. Their deal would be off the table then and he would likely torture the design out of her. He might be planning that anyway for all she knew.
Sepharia returned eventually with a long coil of rope.
"Cut a one meter length, tie the one end to my wrist manacle and the other to the pulling mechanism for my leg," she explained. "And they have to be tight."
While her niece was busy, Heron wondered if she was going to rip her arm and leg off in trying to escape. She had no other choice but to try.
With the rope cutting across her chest, pulling the wrist manacle toward her leg, she said, "Now engage the leg, slowly and be ready to switch it off once the manacle breaks."
She hoped the thin pin holding the iron around her wrist would break before the rope. The rope appeared to be sturdy.
Sepharia engaged the leg puller, which yanked on her wrist manacle. It wasn't budging.
Heron glanced toward the door, worried Philo would return any moment.
"More power," she said.
Sepharia engaged the lever another notch. The rope and manacle were both straining. She willed the pin to break.
"More," she shouted, setting herself for when one or the other broke. If the rope broke, it would yank her leg from its socket. If the manacle broke and Sepharia didn't switch the lever in time, it would pull her arm down and probably break it.
As the mechanic wailed with worry, the manacle finally broke and Sepharia slammed the lever.
"Now the other arm. Use a second rope to make sure the ropes win," she said.
Sepharia tied the two ropes and they broke the manacles in order with minimal damage to Heron's body. Her wrists and ankles were bloody from when the manacle snapped, but it was a wound well worth the cost.
Before they left the room, they each grabbed knives from the table. Heron grabbed Philo's book after a moment of hesitation.
Then Heron realized they would have a difficult time escaping the temple. They couldn't really sh
immy back up the hole in the brazier and all the other entrances were guarded.
Heron looked at the steam mechanic and then the rope and had an idea. She tied the end of the original rope, which was at least a couple hundred feet long, around the pulling mechanism. She also added more oil to the flame, worried it was losing power.
Then she gave the rope to Sepharia and they wound their way to the secret entrance into the cathedral. They still had plenty of slack by the time they reached it.
Heron hoisted Sepharia up through the hole, grimacing from the pain in her flayed knee.
Once above, Sepharia tied the rope around the base of the statue, interweaving it with the scaffolding.
"Tie it around the mid-section," she whispered as loud as she dared. "Get off as soon as it's done. I'm throwing the lever."
Sepharia nodded and began climbing the scaffolding. Heron left the secret entrance to return to the sacrificial chamber.
Limping back into the room using her cane, Heron found Philo standing near the steam mechanic with a knife in his hand ready to cut the rope.
She reacted immediately lunging toward him, but she would reach him too late. Her knee buckled from the strain, tearing the wound open.
Falling to her knee, she threw the cane at him. It spun through the air and struck him in the face. He dropped the knife and Heron scrambled toward him.
She dove onto him as he grabbed his knife, knocking him to the stone and pinning his arm under her leg. Blood ran out her knee over the both of them as they struggled. Neither were real fighters and their efforts were clumsy.
Even though Heron was on top, Philo was the stronger and she had multiple injuries. He eventually maneuvered on top, though she managed to keep his knife away using her hand and a leg.
But as he gained leverage, his hand broke free of hers and he thrust the knife up between her legs, victory apparent on his face.
When the knife blade hit her wooden genitalia instead of soft flesh, his face turned sour. Heron used the moment of confusion to wrestle her other arm free.
She plunged her knife into his belly.
That she was a woman slowly dawned on his face as he died beneath the blade.
Heron clambered to her feet and engaged the lever. The rope pulled out the slack and began straining. The mechanic had been pinned to the floor. The steel whined under the pressure.
Sepharia better be clear of the statue, she thought. Heron grabbed the book and her cane with bloody fingers and stumbled back to the hidden passage.
Suddenly, the rope jerked forward and she heard a horrible crash, shaking the walls and knocking Heron from her feet. She hoped the statue had knocked a hole big enough for them to escape.
After throwing the book and cane up the hole, she climbed the rope. Her hands were slick with blood so she wiped them on her stained tunic before pulling herself up. With Sepharia's help she was able to make it out of the hole.
The statue had broken through the wall and a faint orangish glow peeked through. The walls looked fragile enough so the whole structure might fall soon.
Sepharia ran ahead. Heron reached down to pick up the book which lay next to the knife Sepharia had dropped. Heron had left hers in Philo's belly.
She was about to limp after Sepharia when she was tackled. Ghet had plunged a knife into the book as she'd turned. Heron yelled to get Sepharia's attention but the noise of falling stone covered her shouts. The knife impaled book lay a length away.
Heron kneed him between the legs, doubling him over. He grabbed her with his long fingernails, cutting her arm.
Ghet slammed his forearm across her face. Heron tried to fend off his blows but her arms were weak from blood loss. She glanced around for the knife, but it was out of reach.
Ghet's leg pressed against her knee, sending shoots of pain through her head. Heron flailed around for a weapon.
Then she remembered the pinning nail in her belt. She kicked him again between the legs, and used the moment to pull the nail free.
Heron looped the string from the nail around Ghet's belt while he punched wildly. Then she drove the nail through the taut rope. After another kick to the groin, she wriggled free and dove for the knife.
Ghet grabbed the other knife and started moving to his knees, not realizing what Heron had done.
In one quick motion, Heron sliced the rope, which had been straining between the statue and the steam mechanic.
The rope snapped, and since Ghet was connected to the rope via the pinning nail, it yanked the high priest of Ur from his feet toward the hole. Stretched out on his back, Ghet couldn't fit into the hole and the belt squeezed his middle.
Heron turned away from his screams, grabbing the book and her cane and limped across the cathedral. Halfway there a sickening crunch and gurgle ended the screams.
They scrambled through the stones together, dust blinding them until they made it to the stairs only to hear the tell-tale sound of Roman crossbows clicking into place.