Crucible Lanterns Novels & Stories

“But if she explodes again, I am leaving.” I tried to pull away from Marek. “Where am I? What kingdom is this? Why do your wolves change into men? Why is everything glowing? Why do your fires live inside metal bowls?” “You mean lanterns?” Lucian asked. I squinted at him. “Lanterns. Are they alive?” Lucian blinked. “Alive?” “They glow,” I said. “And the flames are trapped. Why do they not escape? Are they suffering?” Marek’s mouth twitched. “Fire does not think here.”

It was the kind of lantern that campers use. These lanterns did not have a high risk of going out, so the sight of them was very reassuring. She refused to glance down and instead concentrated on the next step at hand, but she soon exhausted her supply of metal stakes, leaving her with nowhere to go and the ground a considerable distance away.

The door swung open, and the suffocating heat of the corridor spiked instantly, carrying the heavy, toxic scent of burning charcoal and liquid silver. Four elite vanguard warriors strode in, their unsheathed swords held flat against their chests. Behind them came the two medical mages, their faces obscured beneath heavy, ash-gray hoods. Between them, they carried a rolling iron crucible, the white-hot coals inside glowing with an intense, blinding fury that illuminated the damp stone walls in shades of violent orange. Resting inside the coals were the extraction irons—long, heavy silver rods tipped with claw-like rings designed to force a wolf's core into a premature, violent eviction.